It's All About Me...

Need to update!

2011-11-30T11:24:00.000-06:00

Seriously, y'all...that picture of me is from 2007 or 2008, I'm not quite sure. It was taken on the patio of the (now closed) Belmont, during SXSW, right before I met the Italian Guy who tried to romance me although I'm fairly certain he was married. Obviously, this was prior to me falling fast & hard for Jaime. Although it would make for a much more interesting story had it happened while I was dating Jaime, no?

Fictional drama aside, my life has been supercalifragilisticBUSYexpialidocious. Work has been cray cray. My law firm had been circling the drain, and crashed and burned in late February. I was lucky enough to be taken in by a splinter group of attorneys that I'd worked with, to their new office. Now I'm part of the Austin office of a large national firm, based in California. We've been doing a lot more work with a third less people, but hey, it's job stability.

I promise to update with some pictures, soon, both of the family and food and fun.

Gluten-Free pizza review: Mangieri's at Circle C

2011-02-17T21:58:00.001-06:00

I don't eat Gluten-Free because I have celiac disease. I'm lucky in that I have no wheat sensitivity. But lately I've been experimenting with GF products and dishes because I have friends who suffer from the disease. I'm curious to see how things have changed from the early days of crumbly, icky textured, second rate goods. I'm relieved to say that G-F has gotten yum-my. In the recent past I've been blown away entirely by the deliciousness that is Blackbird Bakery. Karen turns out amazingly lucious desserts with nary a speck of gluten in them. Her crepes! Oh how I love those delicate, airy crepes! (The Maker's Mark in the apple pie filling doesn't hurt, either).

I've had a burger at Hopdoddy on a GF bun and I simply couldn't tell it was wheat free. And this week in honor of Chef Jess at ATX Gluten-Free, I tried a pizza from Mangieri's for ATX Gluten-Free Pizza Fest.

I chose Bella's pizza, a specialty pie, with the GF crust. Making your pizza with a GF crust will cost you a bit extra, but for those who couldn't eat it any other way, it's worth the few dollars. Bella's pizza is topped with grilled chicken, baby spinach, roma tomatoes, oregano, sesame seeds, EVOO, mozzarella and feta cheese. Umm, hells yeah!

The crust was crispy on the edge, which was wonderful while warm but be warned, as it cooled it went from slightly toothsome to a little on the chewy side. The taste was spot on, even a bit buttery. As a thin crust, this one is definitely a winner. I would order it again, without a celiac sensitivity to blame it on. The toppings are fresh, well-seasoned and paired nicely with each other. There was no one ingredient that stood out too much or too little. On a scale of 1 to 5 stars, I give this a 3.75, and that would've been higher if the crust hadn't turned tough.

ATX Gluten-Free Pizza Fest Take Two...

2011-02-17T21:39:00.000-06:00

Another winner from guest blogger Carrie Wood! Carries is my GF friend who gives me her opinion of GF products available in area grocery stores. I can count on her to either give two thumbs up or a resounding "no!" to GF goods. Carries writes this post as part of ATX Gluten-Free's Pizza Fest.

This time I tried a gluten-free, yeast-free crust mix by Chebe.

I made it according to the directions on the back - the one with the parmesan cheese added to the crust mix.

I topped it exactly like I topped the Almond Flour Pizza crust.

Pic. 3 - just out of the oven (sorry, it's a little out of focus, but I think I swooned!)

Pic. 4 is what was left (hubs ate half) and the empty Chebe package.

This crust is quite simple, and shapes easily. I forgot to sprinkle cornmeal on the stone, so it stuck just a teensy, but loosened easily with a spatula. It makes a thin crust, but it's not chewy or tough. Hubs doesn't like crispy crust so I bake a little less than crispy crust would require. This crust held up well and didn't get soggy in the middle and the slices could be picked up and eaten by hand just like pizzeria slices.

Our vote between the 2 we tested is the Chebe, because it mostly closely approximates a yeasty pizza dough and because we both agree we'd eat it again!

Gluten-Free Pizza Fest Take One...

2011-02-17T21:31:00.000-06:00

Welcome guest blogger Carrie Wood to my blog site today. Carrie is a Gluten-Free friend of mine and she'll be reviewing a few GF pizzas in honor of ATX Gluten-Free's Pizza Fest.

Since going wheat and yeast-free over 2.5 yrs. ago, pizza has not been part of my life. Oh, sure I could eat the toppings, but pizza isn't pizza without the crust. Carrie, of GingerLemon Girl fame, posted a gluten-free, yeast-free recipe last year and the Pizza Fest gave me a reason to coerce my husband into trying 2 different gluten-free, yeast-free pizza crusts.

1st Contestant: Gluten Free Almond Flour Pizza Crust (courtesy of GingerLemonGirl)

Dry Ingredients:

2 c. almond flour

1/2 tsp. salt

1/4 tsp. baking soda

1 tsp. oregano

1 tsp. garlic powder

1 tsp. basil

Wet Ingredients:

3/4 c. mashed white beans (I used cannelinni beans)

3 eggs (Egg sub. would work, too)

3 T. olive oil

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Line 12-14" pizza pan with parchment paper.

2. In a large metal bowl mix all dry ingredients together.

3. Make a well in the center of the dry ingredients and all all the wet ingredients.

4. Mix them thoroughly. The dough will be quite wet.

5. If you're making 2 med. pizzas, split the dough in half.

6. Spread the dough in a circle on the parchment paper with a spatula. It may help to wet the spatula or spritz it with non-stick cooking spray to keep the dough from sticking to the spatula. (I like the feel of dough in my hands. I opted to plop it out on the parchment paper on my pizza stone. And using wet hands, I smeared and shaped the dough - rewetting hand as necessary).

Pre bake the dough in the preheated oven for 10-132 min. until golden brown.

Add toppings (I used 1 c. Delallo Tomatoes with Basil pureed, topped with slices of low-fat, thinly sliced provolone, then turkey peppperoni, and topped with grated low-fat mozzarella).

Bake topped pizza for 10-15 min. until toppings are cooked to your satisfaction.

Cool for about 5 min. and then serve.

This crust is a bit mealy, of course, due to the almond flour. It's easy to make & shape, sets up nicely and has a good flavor. The verdict: Good, but not good enough to make again.

The rule at our house is that we all have to like it . . . since hubs is compromising and eating wheat-free goodies to accommodate my sensitivity, and my goal is to make delicious food that so closely approximates it's wheaten counterparts that no one misses the wheat!

Green Monster!

2011-01-14T11:03:00.001-06:00

I've been trying out different things in my quest for healthier eating habits. A fit friend of mine has turned me on to the Green Monster Movement. Michelle kept talking and posting about her Green Monsters until I was dying of curiosity. I've now had two Green Monster breakfasts in one week and I'm hooked! The picture above is today's GM in a Beer Town Austin 'stache glass and the recipe is below.

1 Tb milled flax seed
2 cups raw spinach
1 1/4 cups vanilla coconut milk (or any milk of your choosing)
1 Tb organic creamy peanut butter
1 banana
2/3 cup frozen broccoli florets

Blend, blend until all is smooth. Enjoy!

Crockpot barbacoa...easy & delicious

2011-01-04T13:40:00.001-06:00

I love barbacoa. It reminds me of when we'd go see my Grandpa in San Antonio. On weekends, he'd buy a pound of barbacoa and corn tortillas for us to eat after church. The rich meat with its distinctive mouthfeel was always delicious. What distinctive mouthfeel? I hate that overused word "unctuous" but saying "fatty and sticky" doesn't sound appealing to most people. But this beef is fatty and slightly sticky, from the slow roasting process that melts down the meat, connective tissue and tendons into a pile of wonderfully slick, sumptously flavorful goodness.

It all starts with beef cheek...or at least mine does, as the traditional process involves an entire cow head. I don't know about your house, but mine does not have a refrigerator large enough for that business. Please ignore that beef cheek meat is not your pretty, clean cut of meat like you normally use. It is positively primal in appearance, with all manner of fatty bits and stuff. I clean off most of the fat but leave the other stuff, unless it is an obvious vein, which grosses me out, so I'll practice my knife skills on that. In other words, remove it without losing a finger.

I cook my barbacoa in the crockpot, using a little seasoning, orange juice, apple cider vinegar and water. You want the liquid to cover the meat, so chop it in large sections if necessary. I had a half of an onion and some garlic cloves that needed to be used before they ended up in my compost bin, so I rough chopped them and threw them in, too. After long and low cooking, you'll end up with what almost looks like pot roast, only it shreds easily with two forks. I found myself unable to resist eating barbacoa tacos immediately after the meat was done. I doubt you could resist it, either. Somewhere in heaven, my Grandpa is smiling, pointing down to me and saying "¡Esa es mi nieta!".

Crockpot Barbacoa

1-2 cups water
juice from half a regular sized orange
2 Tb. apple cider vinegar
3-4lbs beef cheek meat
salt
pepper
garlic powder
onion powder
fresh, roughly chopped onion & garlic if you have it on hand

Combine water, juice and apple cider vinegar and pour into bottom of crockpot. Liberally season meat, add to crockpot along with fresh veggies, if using any. Cook on low heat for 12 hours. Remove from liquid, shred with forks. Serve with warm tortillas and any condiment or toppings desired, such as salsa, chopped cilantro, diced onion.

Wheel of Fortune is teaching my son his alphabet

2010-12-22T14:51:00.000-06:00

Ryder has taken to pointing to letters and calling out their name, although mainly he says "E" and "D" for everything. I thought at first that maybe Elmo isn't such a squeaky voiced tool of a monster and he was to thank for helping Ryder learn his letters, but I was mistaken. The Wheel of Fortune is teaching my son his alphabet.

At dinnertime each night that Ryder is with his Welito y Welita, they push his highchair up to the table and eat while watching quick witted contestants solve the puzzle. It makes complete sense when you think that you hear a contestant ask for a particular letter, then see it on the screen, hear it again as Pat repeats the letter, and see it light up when Vanna turns it (or not), well, you get the repetition. And repetition means retention, therefore enabling Wheel of Fortune to be a viable education source for toddlers. At least for mine, that is.

December rolled me like an ocean wave

2010-12-22T14:30:00.003-06:00

December has been a great surge of activity for me, where you fight to keep your head above water and you end up exhausted and slightly disoriented. I didn't take any time off after the excitement of our wedding ceremony, which was lovelier than anything I'd imagined, and the cold yet fun reception. No honeymoon, as we are still on one income and I didn't really want to think of leaving Ryder behind. His first solo overnight stay with Welita y Welito was on our wedding night. He was fine. I was so tired that it didn't really register, until I woke up the next morning. I missed him almost immediately, but was grateful to have been able to sleep in for a change. None of us knew that a little more than a week later I'd spend many nights away from my sweet son. We were thrilled to have had our big day and ready to relax into the holidays.

We'd been burning the candle at both ends during the wedding week, getting ready for our celebration. Ryder had been having some trouble sleeping, too, so none of us were well-rested. We've had a few strange things going on in our house, too. I joked that we need to call the TAPS team. I'd been waking up, swearing that someone was tugging on the sheet or comforter, a few of Ryder's toys had been turning themselves on, random weirdness of all kinds...up until the morning of our wedding. I was the first up and was pulling clothes together for Ryder's diaper bag, standing at his dresser. Right behind me, in his room, a little girl's voice called out "maaaahhhmeeee", slowly and plaintively. I don't get scared often by paranormal things, but this frightened me. I rushed back to our room, where the boys were still sleeping. I knew it wasn't Ryder's voice that I heard, but I woke Jaime up to ask if Ryder had been calling for me. No, of course not. This brush with the other side kept me uneasy for a week. I still get creeped out, if I think about it too much.

The first Sunday of December was intended to be my rest and recovery day, a day in which I would do nothing but prepare meals and watch mindless T.V. or a movie. And I was doing just that, up until shortly before lunch. The phone rings and your life changes, isn't that always how it works? One of the attorneys I work for called from Puerto Rico, where we had a trial starting the next day. Our trial team paralegal had a death in the family, could I make the 3:30pm flight from Austin to San Juan? Amazingly, I did. The next 8 days were a blur of travel, intensive trial work, my first courtroom experience outside of being a juror and a teeny, tiny taste of Puerto Rico.

Mid-month, back in Austin, it took about 5 days to feel normal again. I arrived home sleep deprived and jittery from the full on adrenaline rush of total immersion into trial work. I'd wallowed blissfully in a super comfy hotel bed, with a down featherbed, all by my lonesome in San Juan...but in Austin I was back to fighting for covers with Jaime and, more often than not, Ryder, who demonstrated his new ability to sleep sideways in bed. I felt so disconnected from home that if someone had suggested I'd actually been gone a month, I'd have readily agreed. It was odd to turn on the television and not have it auto-programmed to the WAPA channel. (And I'd really love to be able to walk to a breakfast buffet every morning, prepared by trained chefs who do not get called "MomMom" or "Kay").

I learned a lot in Puerto Rico, at trial. I also tried my best to get a little down time in where I could, but that proved next to impossible. The morning I left I managed to put my feet in the ocean and also to lay in a hammock for a while. I'd love to go back when I can enjoy the delights of the island. I missed my boys badly, though, and was grateful to return home to them. I flew back on a Monday and was in my office on Tuesday, no time off. I was brain dead and drained by the weekend.

Ryder suffered not only the temporary loss of his MomMom but also of his grandmother. My Mom was in Mexico for a week, having dental work done while I was gone. As a result, Ryder's been a clingy little spidermonkey right around the time I need to leave for work in the morning. It's the residual effects of my "solo honeymoon" in Puerto Rico and not having his Welita to comfort him, I'm sure.

In keeping with the ebb and flow of my emotions and energy level this month, this week was the first total lunar eclipse of the winter solstice moon in hundreds of years. I wished on that gorgeous moon, awed by its vivid whiteness in the dark sky. I wished for the ill wind to blow away, taking with it our money troubles and for the moon to pull in prosperity for us. For Jaime, to find not only a job that pays well but also one he will be passionate about, and for myself, to continue to learn and grow in my current job while I tend lovingly to my Twitter amour. Bless us, luna.

Honeymoon Without My Honey

2010-12-05T23:54:00.000-06:00

It's hard to believe that it's only been 9 days since my wedding. The last week was a blur of family returning home post-nuptials, playing catch up at work, a lovely media dinner at Soleil (must visit their raw bar!) and the Bleetup, with the First Annual Austin Blogger Awards. I was honored to be nominated for ATXFoodnews in the Twitter category. Yesterday I ended the week by working at the Austin Sports Expo. In short, it's been hectic.

In a shocking-not-shocking, this is my life move, I got a call on Sunday a little before lunch saying that a co-worker had a family emergency and was flying back to Austin from our trial site in San Juan, Puerta Rico. Four and a half hours later, I'm on a flight to Puerto Rico.

Ahem. I repeat, I am on a flight to San Juan freakin' Puerto Rico! I don't know what to expect, as I've never been to trial (or Puerto Rico) before. I'd like to think of this as my honeymoon sans Jaime but I know I'll be working my bum off. I hope to have a little time to enjoy the food & city, but I'm not expecting much.

I am having some anxiety leaving my guys. Ryder waved bye bye and blew me a kiss at curbside check in. I resisted the urge to make out with Jaime like a high school girl who's just been grounded from seeing her boyfriend for a week (probably for sneaking out her bedroom window, scraping her legs on the holly bushes and waking up the dog with her squeal of pain...not that I'd know). If I hadn't indulged in half a Xanax, I may well have dissolved into tears. I'm convinced that Ryder will have grown so much while I'm gone that a Norelco shaver embossed with "A sharp gift from Puerto Rico" is in order.

Drama queen theatrics aside, I'm looking forward to the next few days. My company obviously believes I'm capable and dependable and I'll be working my tail off to prove them correct. Wish me luck.

Matrimonial Bliss...or, "honey, we did it!"

2010-12-05T23:47:00.002-06:00

This should say everything.

Wedding bells & dieter hell

2010-11-21T12:16:00.000-06:00

The wedding is Friday. Five days to go and I'm so freakin' hungry! My crazy gorgeous wedding dress fits, mind you, it's not like I can't get into it. But it fits snugly, like a glove, but not like a sausage skin -- that would be bad. I want a teensy bit of breathing room in it as I plan to boogie the night away to wonderful wedded bliss tunes like "Baby Got Back" and "White Wedding". So...I've been low cal, low carb, low everything except a lettuce leaf and a thin slice of avocado. Okay, maybe not that deprived, but there has been no barbacoa, no steak & fried egg tacos from One Taco, no cheeseburger in paradise, noEgg Nog (with bourbon) ice cream at Amy's Ice Cream and certainly no beer. Well, save the one glass of Jester King Commercial Suicide I had this week, in one of Beertown Austin's fabulous moustache glasses. I know I shouldn't have, but it was whisky! barrel! aged!! And it was supremely delicious.

All my hard work is paying off, though. I'm about 3lbs under what I was when I first tried on my dress, so I'm calling this a success. After all, it's Thanksgiving soon and we'll be making our traditional cornbread dressing, oven roasted turkey with a bacon blanket over the breast, pumpkin and pecan pies, broccoli, cheese & rice casserole...yeah, I'll be eating the toddler sized portions on Thursday, so that the very next day I can step into my gown and not pass out if I try to inhale too deeply. For the record, my seamstress refused to let out the side seams, telling me quite firmly that the dress fits perfectly.

I'll be picking up my sister and niece on Tuesday morning and guess where they want to head to immediately after arrival? Yeah, uh huh, Juan in a Million.

Everybody's workin' for the weekend..

2010-10-22T15:15:00.001-05:00

It doesn't get any easier, as we age, to make it through a rough work week. Just like Loverboy went from wearing tight red leather pants to this, my life is such that Monday morning starts with me feeling energized and ready and ends Friday afternoon on life support. TGIF, yeah, yeah, can you get me another cup of coffee?

Saturdays should be for sleeping in, but since we have an active toddler, no one sleeps late anymore. Instead, you can find me training with Austin Fit for the February half marathon. If I can't sleep, I might as well work out. And, oh man...it is so hard to get moving on Saturday morning. I know I need to exercise. I know I need to dump some more pounds. This isn't rocket science. But maybe rocket fuel would be the perfect assist in getting me out of bed and on the road. (Note to self: invest in Espresso Love Gu).

It's ironic that the two days when I have time to relax are the same two days that Jaime is rarin' to go, get out of the house, go somewhere, do something. I'm thinking about a bottle of wine, the couch and a dvd and he's gazing outdoors with a rapturous look on his face. Of course, I'm not the adult in the family who's main source of Vitamin D comes from the sunny side of the playground, either.

We've compromised this weekend. After my 6.5 miler in the morning (carrying my iPhone in case I need to call a taxi) we will indulge in some R&R before spending the afternoon outside. Specifically, we'll be helping to celebrate The Draught House's 42nd birthday. Delicious craft beer is the one thing guaranteed to get me off the sofa. The fine men of BeerTownAustin have a delicious list of the brews to be had at Draught House's celebration.

I am excited to see my standby favorite (512) Brewing's Double Pecan Porter, but I'm super thrilled to try Jester King's Commercial Suicide and Southern Star's Pro-Am Smoked Porter "primed with agave syrup with chipotles in the cask". What what?? Oh, those cheeky Conroe brewers! Four 6.5oz pours are your's, with a glass, for $12 (if only it was BeerTownAustin's moustache glass). Happy weekend, indeed.

A healthy glow

2010-10-19T14:28:00.001-05:00

Those of you who know me well are familiar with my milky white skin, a hue so light if I was any paler I might actually go transparent. Thank you, Dad, for the great genes that make me look younger than I am, but could you have at least let Mom give me her Mexican-American olive tones that instantly brown in the smallest amount of sunlight? Seriously, I tell people I'm Latina and they probably think I meant to say "I'm studying Latin". If you'd dust me in ultra-fine glitter I'd sparkle like one of the Twilight vamps. Well, no more, folks! I've found the answer to the problem, the solution to me blinding Jaime when I pull my shirt off and it is awesome!

Yes, the picture above says it all, airbrush is in, tanning beds are out. Super friendly Laurie, the owner of Healthy Glow Mobile Airbrush Tanning Service stopped by my house one recent Saturday afternoon and worked a small miracle. Carefully airbrushing me, Laurie turned this anemic-toned chica into a lightly bronzed woman. The effect was natural and flattering. In fact, it was so natural looking that when I visited with a friend later that day she remarked that my half marathon training was leaving me looking sun-kissed. Little did she know, it was a faux tan.

Laurie's set up is a simple one, fitting into one medium sized case. Handy, because she will come to your home with her equipment. Even better, you can claim the hostess with the mostest title and throw an airbrush tan party. You supply the friends and beverages and she'll come in, pop open the airbrush tent and get to work.

Please, no comments about the cardboard in the background. It's hard to indulge in picking out window treatments when you are on a fixed income. Besides, that window overlooks a brick wall, so unless you are a really, really good Peeping Tom, we're not worried about drapes. Ahem, back to the subject. Most women will wear their bathing suit, but I wanted more of an all over tan. Laurie was okay with me going au naturel, but I opted to wear small undies and a strapless bra. The spray will show up on light fabric, but washes out easily.

Laurie had me stand in the tent while she explained the process, starting off with blowing air on me so I could feel how cool it was (colder than I expected). Then she began airbrushing me, methodically and smoothly. I leaned this way and that, held my arms up then down, inclined my head to each side...you get the picture. When she was done, Laurie explained that the bronzer would darken slightly over the next hours but asked me to make sure I was happy with the color. I could've asked to go darker but the shade she chose for me was perfect. Laurie blended my farmer's tan from my running shirts so that I was one even shade from the top of my shoulders down to my hands. The entire process took less than twenty minutes.

I'm so satisfied with my tan that I've already asked Laurie to airbrush me before my wedding next month. I followed her instructions on body care pre-tan: exfoliate paying close attention to problem areas like elbows, knees and feet, shave the day of or before and moisturize well in the days prior to the airbrush session. You want as smooth a canvas as possible. You can't wear deoderant or makeup for your session or have freshly lotioned skin. After-care is easy, too. You want to wait about 8 hours before bathing (plan ahead!), moisturize, moisturize, moisturize, take warm, not hot baths and avoid shaving your legs as long as possible. The tan lasts between 7-10 days, dependant upon how much your skin naturally exfoliates.

I'm thrilled with my Healthy Glow airbrush tan, and want you to experience it, too. If you book an airbrush tan party with Laurie and three friends get tanned, your's is free. Laurie charges only $35 (remember, she's coming to you, that's a steal!) for a full body tan. If you live outside of Austin, she charges a nominal $10 fee for mileage. You can contact Laurie through her Facebook site for Healthy Glow or call her at (512) 573-1106. Now go get your own healthy glow!

In keeping with FTC regulations, I am disclosing that Laurie was generous enough to tan me for free, something that was greatly appreciated and resulted in this happy blog post. Satisfied, Big Brother?

Beer...sleep

2010-10-05T12:48:00.003-05:00

What I really want to talk about today is beer. Beer in all its beautiful, beery goodness, like 512 Brewing Pecan Porter pictured above (apologies for the dismal quality photo), Oaktoberfest from Live Oak Brewing, and Oktoberfest from Shiner. All of these are recently quaffed, greatly enjoyed beers. I love this time of year because it means a good number of seasonals from local breweries. I tend to be somewhat ADD in my beverage choices, zinging back and forth between lighter flavors and deeper ones. October is a beer month that completely plays into my drinking style. I have a list of more beers to sample, but if you have a "must drink" local brew, please let me know in comments so that I, too, may partake of its deliciousness.

Alas, I am too exhausted to write about beer. I need sleep. I need sleep like an armadillo needs to be spray painted glow-in-the-dark neon colors. What? Obviously, this will give the armadillo a competitive edge when crossing a dark Texas highway. I believe it may also reduce drunk driving, since if I left happy hour and saw a neon green armadillo streak across Hwy. 71, I would damn sure pull over and call a sober friend to pick me up.

Sunday night I had action dreams all night long. I enjoy a rambunctious movie as much as the next woman, but dreaming of running around in the dark with my task force of fellow vampire killers (with ultra cool automatic weapons equipped with UV bullets) meant waking up worn out. I dragged through my very busy work day and ended up with the caffeine shakes in the late afternoon. I was determined to go to bed early Monday night.

My hope of getting a solid night's sleep died a little after midnight, when Ryder woke up with a tummy ache. At least we think it was a tummy ache...can't quite tell when you're dealing with a child who's most advanced word is "door". He tossed and turned and cried out and grunted and, after a dose of Mylicon, made a few other loud noises, all of which were repeated at 3am and 5am. At the barest crack of dawn, Ryder decided he was up for the day, smiling and happy. Of course. Meanwhile, I'm trying to find out where I can buy a case of 5 Hour Energy and dashing off an e-mail to Uncle Billy's telling them that the breakfast crowd would love their Insomniac Coffee Stout.

Tempting Tastings

2010-09-23T15:03:00.000-05:00

Over the last week I've managed to taste a fair number of delicious dishes. Let me stop right here, before I write another sentence and implore you to do one thing, and to do it very, very soon. Go to Urban, located in the Westin at The Domain, and order anything you want, as long as it includes the sweet corn bisque and finishes (or starts!) with the avocado tres leches cake. Yes, I said avocado. Tres leches is always a favorite but the addition of avocado gave it a little special "oomph". If I'd had to taste this blindfolded and guess the mystery ingredient, there is no way I would've come up with avocado. It is more of a deepening of flavors, of richness and buttery goodness than "hey, I just ate a mouthful of cakey guacamole".

The sweet corn bisque is equally rich and enticing, served with a roasted corn pico de gallo on top. The first spoonful is sweet, silky goodness with a surprising rush of heat from the spices. This is no demure damsel of a bisque! I could happily eat it until I pass out.

Because I am a low/highbrow foodie (thanks for coining that phrase Tolly!), I have to include my favorite lunch last week. Behold, I give you the newest creation on Hat Creek's menu, their Turkey Burger, a juicy, peppered patty, grilled to perfection. It rocked my noontime. It could rock my eveningtime, if Hat Creek would please open a restaurant in South Austin. My picture doesn't do justice to this burger, as I didn't get a great angle of a shot, to showcase the patty, but I was just too eager to eat it and didn't stop to snap more photos.

Lift Cafe has a sweet little patio where you can sip a bevie (alcoholic or caffeinated or both) and relax. The day I stopped in, a friend and I ordered this pretty cheese plate. Divine.

And in celebration of stinky cheese (not that we had a stinky one on our cheese plate), I give you a different kind of treat. A "trick or treat, smell my feet, give me something good to eat". Well, if you're a toddler who thinks feet are good to eat, that is.

So Not Photogenic

2010-09-15T11:43:00.003-05:00

You know, I always tell people I'm not photogenic. I end up looking drunk, each and every time. I can't help my rosacea, folks! It's not that I'm a red nosed drunk (okay, it's not that I'm always a red nosed drunk). After years of pictures that I swear do not look like me, or at least, not a sober me, I'm starting to wonder...maybe the pictures are true to life. Maybe I spend 100% of real life looking like I'm under the influence. I don't know the answer to that burning question (and quite possibly don't want to know, either) but I do know one thing: I made a cute baby.

So, to counteract the effect of having to look at the above picture of me, taken this week, here is another recent picture of my offspring. My very adorable, extremely photogenic offspring. Notice that Ryder is starting to lose the baby look and advance into kid-hood (cue mama tears).

Singin' the Monday blues

2010-09-13T15:18:00.004-05:00

You ever have one of those days? The kind of morning when you wake up feeling more tired than when you went to bed? Those days always make me wish I had the freedom to stay in bed, pull the covers up and not put a toe on the carpet until I damn well feel like it. The kind of day where you want to eat leftover cold fried chicken for breakfast, chocolate ice cream for lunch and quite possibly an entire bag of Funyuns for dinner, but only if they are Wasabi Funyuns (sadly, discontinued).

I'm having one of those days. Yes, singin' the Monday blues. The cause of it is the sad state of our finances. With my sweet partner-in-crime laid off, our checking account is anorexic to the point of Karen Carpenter-hood. Our wedding is in November and we've knocked our budget down to the bare bones. And by bare I mean that if our budget was a dress, Tila Tequila would want to wear it.

I'm okay with a casual reception at an ultra casual location because I'm more of a casual girl than anything else. I'm very much okay with everyone getting to wear comfy, tempurature-friendly clothing to our celebration. I'm okay with the idea that we can't afford a caterer, so we'll spend the day prior to our wedding (Thanksgiving) cooking for the reception. I'm okay with hauling Jaime's sound equipment so that we don't have to hire a DJ, only hook up a laptop & run music. I'm okay with not having loads of fresh flowers everywhere you turn.

I'm so sad at only one thing, a trivial detail considering that I'm bagging a great catch of a husband. I can't afford a wedding cake. A beautiful and unique cake is the only part of a traditional wedding that I truly adore but...gorgeous cakes cost a serious amount of bank. We are rich in many ways but not in terms of ink & paper with pictures of various dead presidents on them.

And that, dear reader, is what is bringing me down today. Usually I can work myself up into a seriously good rant and rave about all kinds of issues but today it's simply a selfish whine about a cake. I feel ridiculously shallow, but at the same time tears sting my eyes. It's a freakin' cake, for cryin' out loud! But giving up this one desire is difficult and sad.

Hah, just when I really get into feeling bad for myself, writing this post, my insurance company calls...they have a "Well Aware" program that I got hooked into when I was in a car accident a few months ago. When I told the nurse my back was feeling fine he ominously said "We'll keep you in the program. You never know, your back could be fine one minute and in the next half hour you're in major pain". Nice. Just what I needed to hear today, to boost my spirits. Can't help but laugh!

BlogathonATX

2010-08-28T13:01:00.002-05:00

One thing I've learned from the last year of Tweeting is that you just never know what kind of fun thing you can stumble upon, just from reading a quick post. When Ilene Haddad questioned if anyone wanted to get together on a Saturday and exchange blogging ideas, advice and tips, it quickly escalated into a full blown workshopping event. BlogathonATX is underway, with blogging, content & tech experts on hand.

The jokes started flying when I mentioned to friends that I was attending a blogging workshop. "Are you wearing your Star Trek uniform?". No, of course not. I'm rockin' the Princess Leia gold bikini from Star Wars, you dork! I admit that a blogging workshop sounds like a bunch of socially inept people heads down over laptops, ignoring the people sitting around the same large table but trust me, it's far from the truth.

It's probably a good thing that only one room was designated the "Talking Room" because you can hear the laughter all the way to the back of the building. Conjunctured, a co-working space in E. Austin, donated the use of their sweet offices for this event. It's an old house and I'm probably blogging from the master bedroom. How cool is that?

With conversations ranging from all-about-blogging to raw foods diets and every topic in between, it's been a heckuva good time. I even did an interview for Q, telling her in 10 words or less why I blog. Y'all know I couldn't manage it in 10 words...I used 11 and then kept talking.

Ryder Learned to Feed Himself

2010-06-28T17:40:00.003-05:00

A happy boy with his pureed prunes! Gotta love it that he's eating but man, what a mess. I should've taken pics after he finished off his strawberry applesauce dessert. He had his entire face covered in food, from forehead to chin.

Mama's New Hair & Cute Baby Pics

2010-06-16T22:33:00.002-05:00

Ryder likes my new look, too. The proof is in the pics! Notice how shiny & healthy my hair looks--I owe it all to the Brazilian Blowout at Sirens Salon.

Hair She Goes!

2010-06-16T22:07:00.010-05:00

I've always had curly hair. My hair is fine, not very thick and it gets really, really frizzy. It can't help it. That's just the way it is. When I dry my hair with a blowdryer OR let it air dry, with expensive products or with cheap ones, it comes out the same way: curly/wavy going every which way and not so much trying to conform to a style. The pics I'm posting prove it.

When Emma at Sirens Salon said she could give me a hair treatment that would leave my hair as shiny, silky and smooth as a baby's I simply did not believe her. Did.Not.Believe. But after my relaxing visit with the lovely staff at Sirens (and a glass of wine or two) I started to believe. And after Emma and Callie had worked some magic with touching up my color and giving me a Brazilian Blowout, I became a religious zealot believer. I'll never doubt Emma again.

Here are some after shots of my hair when we were done. My friends will think I look just like I'd stepped out of Sirens after having my hair flat ironed but this is a simple rough dry with a blow dryer, something that would normally leave me crimpy curled. I've never had hair that looked this smooth, sleek and ultra-well cared for until now, with the Brazilian Blowout treatment. On the plus side, the treatment doesn't smell funny (or strong) and there's no fear of chemical burns on your scalp, either. With a color touch up, the Brazilian Blowout and a quick cut I was in the shop for almost 3 hours, so plan accordingly. Take it from me, every minute is worth it!

I love it! My hair has never looked better. And when I wash it, I don't have to worry about it reverting to messy tresses...this is going to last for up to 3 months. Absofreakinglutely amazing!

The Art of Relaxation

2010-05-26T17:57:00.002-05:00

I must've managed to learn the art of relaxation. Despite being sick every day of my vacation last week, I'm back to work feeling refreshed. I didn't realize how difficult it would be to be the only parent on vacation -- even with help from my sister and her family, Ryder was a handful. I never fully relaxed from parenting (two words: separation anxiety) but I did some serious R&R from my 9-5 job. I came home even sicker, stayed out of work yesterday but today I hit the ground running. Its nice to feel calm & centered at work again.

Ryder had a blast, being center of attention. He had his first trip to the zoo and freaked out in the penguin & puffin exhibit. To his credit, the penguins were within touching distance and they did splash us a few times, which had Ryder clawing to get away from me and to Maggie, who was standing the farthest away. Poor babes then discovered there was another exhibit directly behind him. The stuff of nightmares, I'm sure. Aggressive, angry, I'm-gonna-get-you flightless birds. LOL He was very much relieved that the rest of the animals were behind fences and sometimes netting. Every animal he saw he'd point to and say "woof woof". Gazelle? "Woof woof". Giraffe? "Woof woof". Snow leopard? You get the idea.

My sweet picky eater also discovered the crack that is McDonald's Chicken McNuggets. Ryder, who won't eat much, devoured three nuggets. Unbelievable! I would've disowned him had he not happily munched down on a pile of Vietnamese charbroiled pork from my com dac biet plate at my favorite St. Louis restaurant later in the week. There's hope for him yet.

I'll post pics soon, probably the ones of Ryder playing the piano. He is his father's son.

April 19th, 1995 at 9:02am

2010-04-19T08:38:00.004-05:00

Fifteen years ago an American terrorist blew apart the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Government Building. I watched the breaking news stories with shock, disgust and horror. I'd lived in Oklahoma City for a very brief period of time while my father was teaching at the FAA Academy affiliated with OU. I thought about my friends who live there as I watched coverage of the tragedy, and was thankful that no one I knew worked in that building...or so I thought. Later that evening I'd find out that the baby in the image above was Baylee, the niece of a family friend. Baylee had turned one year old the day before she was murdered.

Today, as we remember the victims of the bombing I ask one thing only: strive for kindness. Be nicer to people. Say "please" and "thank you". Treat your fellow citizens with all the respect and nicety that you would be pleasantly surprised to have received. It is my ferverent hope that in being kinder to each other we will find the way to peace both in our nation, which clearly has factions of unrest (plane flown into an an IRS building comes to mind) and in the world.

Please consider a donation to the Oklahoma City National Memorial, built by those who promised not to ever forget the loss of loved ones. The memorial educates those about the events surrounding the bombing and works toward healing the pain caused by it. At the website, you can find stories of triumph over injuries alongside a list of those who perished.

A note about this picture and potential copyright infringement: I have no idea if this is the picture snapped by Lester LaRue or Charles Porter. I'm certain this photo will be used without permission many times today. I hope that whomever owns the copyright, if it is copyrighted, will forgive my use of the photo of Baylee Almon.

Bottle of wine, fruit of the vine

2010-04-16T17:04:00.002-05:00

There's some old folk song that goes "bottle of wine, fruit of the vine, when ya gonna let me get sober? Let me alone, let me go home, I wanna go back and start over". Well, with the work week I've had I will strive to be singing that song later tonight.

Carry on.

Bluebonnet Love

2010-04-12T10:33:00.004-05:00

Our photographer friend, Burnett, rocks! She made sure we documented Ryder's first contact with wildflowers. It was a little windy, so his hair is wild but jeez, does it matter when he is this cute?

Mama: When Will My Child Say It?

2010-04-07T14:59:00.002-05:00

Ryder still hasn't said "mama". His repertoire of words is getting bigger. He can say Dada, hey, cat, clock, yeah, baba (our word for bottle) and bubbles. He has said "Welita" at least once in the past month or so...which pleased my mother terribly. He shortens their nicknames now to "Ita" and "Ito".

Last night he called out "Dada!" to get Jaime's attention before he threw a ball across the living room, chortling to himself in delight. He points at the clocks in our house and others and gleefully says "clock! clock!". He whispers softly through the window to the kitties outside "cat...cat". But "mama"? Nope.

He might've said it last night when he was overly tired and suffering from teething pains but his face was pressed into my thigh and whatever word he uttered was muffled, hard to hear through his sobbing. Since it sounded quite a bit like "mama" Jaime and I shot a look and a raised eyebrow at each other. For now I'm still waiting to hear him call me Mama. Or Kay. Or anything, really, as long as it's clear he means me. I swear he's holding back on purpose.

If You Feed Him, He Will Grow

2010-03-30T09:26:00.003-05:00

My two boys.
La familia.

Ryder really wanted to climb on the fence but its a bit difficult when you aren't even walking yet.

Cheeky monkey!

No birthday party for Ryder's 1st

2010-02-11T10:34:00.003-06:00

Yeah, I said it. I'm not having a birthday party for Ryder. I know this is the first birthday but it's also the last birthday that I can get away with not throwing a shindig...and I can selfishly have my sweet baby all to myself. Jaime isn't up for planning something so I'm exercising my right as mama and decreeing that There Will Be No Party.

There will be a little cake for him, and presents. We will commemorate the fact that his father and I have successfully kept him alive for the entire first year -- a feat that tells us we can now accomplish many more years of the same. His grandparents won't let the day go by without celebrating, too. It's not like he won't have a special day, it simply will be on a smaller scale than most babies have for their first birthday.

February 16th is the special day. Ryder is my late Valentine's gift. He's love, personified. And I intend to hold him as closely to my heart as possible, for ever and ever, amen.

Get Yourself Down to Odd Duck Farm to Trailer!

2010-02-01T11:32:00.007-06:00

Can I just say this food trailer that espouses the idea of using locally sourced foods, the whole animal AND has a seasonal menu is tasty? T-A-S-T-Y! As in, I want to eat there every day tasty.

Check Odd Duck's website for the daily menu but expect that it may be slightly different when you arrive, based on sales that week. When something's sold out, it's out. The week I went the trailer was featuring dishes made from a Richardson Farms pastured pig. Delicious.

The pictures at the top of my post spell it out for you. The top pic is a creamy polenta that had a scoop of Shiner braised lamb and veggies on top. So rich, with the deep flavors of the lamb and the cheesy smoothness of the polenta. Mmm! I want some, now. The bottom photo is a grilled romaine salad with goat ricotta cheese and a poached egg. There was also a slice of grilled ciabatta bread topped with some parmesan shavings. The wood grill gave the greens a subtle smokiness that was delightful.

I strongly suggest a soup or salad along with your entree from Odd Duck. Portion-wise, you'll thank me. As it is, if you haven't been yet and this post compels you to visit the trailer, you'll be thanking me anyway. Seriously great food coming out of their tiny kitchen. The chef, Bryce Gilmore, is no stranger to divine dishes. He practically grew up next to the stove. I'm thrilled that his newest venture is already a success.

Odd Duck's open for dinner only Tues-Thurs from 5-10pm and Saturdays 5p-midnight. While you're there, grab a coffee from Austin Brevita (only open nights on Fri/Sat) or dessert from Gourdough's. Hell yeah!

Goodbye, boobies

2010-01-18T14:14:00.004-06:00

No, I don't have breast cancer or anything awful. What I do have is a scarcity of oxytocin. While I do have several ways I get my "feel good hormone" the one method that I've depended upon for almost a year has ended. I've weaned Ryder. Those of you reading who are men or who haven't breastfed a child or didn't have a positive nursing experience may not be able to relate to this blog post.

I didn't have much of a choice but to wean my baby. I've had hypertension for more than a decade, from way back when I was a skinnyminny in my early 30's. While pregnant, my blood pressure was well controlled up until the last month when I went from pre-eclamptic to "we're booking an OR for your c-section". Not like a c-sec wasn't planned anyway since I also had placenta previa. Anyway, the only medication known to be safe while pregnant/nursing wasn't working so well for me even after Ryder arrived. I ended up in the ER twice in the last months of 2009. My doctor impressed upon me the seriousness of the situation and we agreed I'd wean my son in order to change to more effective drugs.

It wasn't easy to breastfeed in the beginning. It wasn't comfortable, Ryder had difficulties learning to latch on, I had flat nipples (who knew?) and wore two types of odd thingys for a while to convince my nips to pop out...it was a lot of hard work to nurse my child. It took a few months for it to become easy but once it did, wow, was it nice.

We'd settle down, get comfortable and Ryder would squirm in, snuggle up to eat. I'd watch his sweet face as he nursed, usually with eyes closed but sometimes open and watching me back. As he grew older he'd play games while feeding, reach up and touch my nose, my mouth, poke at my ear. He still hasn't outgrown his love affair with my hair. Sometimes I'd make a funny face and he'd chortle around me, his laugh tickling me as he drank. As I breastfed, the oxytocin flowed and acted both to relax us and to stimulate feelings of comfort, security, nurturing and contentment. I never ceased to be amazed at my body's ability to feed my son, even when I didn't produce enough and had to supplement. And since most evening nursing sessions ended with Ryder sleeping in my arms, breastfeeding allowed me quiet time to contemplate my happiness, even though our financial situation was stressful at the time.

To wean him meant that I had to give up these precious moments. It was harder on me emotionally than it was on Ryder at all. He'd been eating regular food and getting formula supplements, after all. I like to think that he knows that formula isn't as tasty as mama-milk, though. He won't remember to be able to deny it so I'm holding to that thought. I started off slowly, skipping one nursing session a week until we were down to only the bedtime feeding. Because I wasn't a milk cow like some mothers can be, it wasn't very worrisome up to that point. But oh, how things change.

Did you ever wonder what it would feel like to fill your boobs with concrete? I can tell you. It feels as if they will either burst through the skin or give in and fall off. And falling off would've been preferable. I bound them under skin tight jogging bras. I thought about, but didn't go for the folk remedy of stuffing cabbage leaves in your bra. I did cry in the shower and massage them once, when I couldn't take the pain anymore. Slowly, they deflated naturally. I'm told it takes a month for milk to completely dry up.

As my boobs flattened, so did my spirit. I'll never share that innocent intimacy again with Ryder. Given my age and our current birth control, I most likely will not share that intimacy with any other baby. It is bittersweet in that I'm happy Ryder is content with table foods and formula but sad that I'm not nourishing him from my body anymore. I'm glad I could breastfeed him for 10.5 months.

Ryder's goodbye to the boobies was fairly easy for him. Aside from rubbing his face in my chest when he's upset (nursing is comforting), only once has he dived in when I was shirtless. He gave lefty a quick mouthing and crawled off, heading toward a toy on the bed. I like to think of it as his goodbye kiss. Meanwhile, my boobs continue to shrink, which is a bit alarming since they weren't large to start out. I hope to remain a B cup but we'll see. Goodbye, boobies.

Goodbye 2009, Hello 2010

2010-01-08T13:41:00.002-06:00

Dear 2009:

You had one momentus event that I thank you for but all in all, I'm very happy you are finished.

Love,
Kay

Things I learned in 2009:

I had no idea what it felt like to be unequivocally & unconditionally in love with someone until Ryder was born. Romantic love is a partnership with conditions, after all. You expect your life partner to love you back, to respect you, to care for you. My first glance at Ryder carried none of those expectations. Instead, I experienced a fierce & primal urge, a sensation so wild in nature and untamed that it was frightening. I'd made this thing, this skinny, pink creature and it needed me and I, him. He didn't love me yet. Ryder only knew that I was his and he was mine and sustenance came from both me and Daddy. It would be some time before Ryder ever actually gave back any emotion other than the base needs of comfort. Now his smile is like oxygen to me.
It is entirely possible to last a week on only 20 hours of sleep but you'll have a hard time remembering much of it.
Jaime loves me more than I deserve.
I'm still horrible with money but I found a way to stay on budget: when Jaime says "you can't spend money" it means I can't spend money. Not on a coffee at Austin Brevita. Or a sweet muffin at Taste No Evil Muffins. Or even a haircut, mani or pedi, for that matter. Those who've seen me recently know of what I speak.
And because Jaime's great with budgeting I learned that you can support a family of three, a mortgage, 2 car notes, credit card bills and utilities on my salary. It wasn't pretty but we made it through with help from my parents.
Heart Hospital of Austin, my old employer, still has the fastest & most efficient emergency room in town. I "visited" twice last year and already hit them up once this year. They know their stuff and I get to see old friends. Socializing is always good for the ol' blood pressure, I say.
Acupuncture is amazing.
Weaning a nursing baby is a huge, emotional big deal. And probably a whole 'nother blog post.
I have some of the best friends in the world. You know who you are. A huge thank you to all you've done for me this year, the support in everything has been incredible!
Transitioning from being a couple to becoming a family means that you spend more time with just the people who live in your house. Unless you're into communal living this means that once a baby arrives you suddenly do not see your friends again without a lot of planning. And even with planning there are many times when you're just too tired to have fun. (There are still friends that I've been trying to get together with since February).
Twitter is the perfect antidote to my need for immediate satisfaction. 140 character updates, Re-Tweeting, @ mentions and Direct Messages are totally up my alley. Find me @ATXfoodnews.
I did legally change my name but I'm still planning the wedding, damn it. Yes, we made sure that we all had the same last name when Ryder was born (technically, they're similar last names) but we have yet to have a wedding. I'm hoping & planning for sometime this fall/winter.
Could I do a half marathon nine months after giving birth? Done and done. My time wasn't the fastest but I kicked asphault at the San Antonio Rock & Roll Half Marathon with the super cool Stephanie Delk as my partner.
And the last tidbit of what I learned in 2009 is that we generate a large amount of recyclable waste, as compared to true garbage. With that, I thank the City of Austin for giving us a ginormous recycle can in a pretty blue color.

Bah Hambug! Who put the X in XMAS?

2009-12-04T17:54:00.002-06:00

I'm just not feeling it. I'm not in a festive mood. I'm not eagerly unpacking my cd's of Christmas carols or anticipating how pretty the tree will look when we decorate. I know it's because of our money crunch. I can't afford to window shop these days. I love buying presents for friends and family but there's just no extra money for much. I know we'll buy Ryder one or two small things, since it's his first Christmas. And we'll get my parents a little something. Jaime and I have agreed on a joint Christmas gift that's practical, useful and needed (and not pricey). With these restrictions, it's just not that easy to get into the spirit of the season. Not the whole "what am I scoring for gifts" part, but the giving. I love the giving part.

I have to figure out a way to retool my thinking. I can't do much but I could buy a few cans of tuna and a jar of peanut butter for the food bank. And I'm still delivering Meals on Wheels. If I use my social media outlets to promote the charitable events going on around town then it's giving, in a different way. Maybe then I won't feel so glum about the season.

And I need to remember that the catalyst for the celebration is the birth of Jesus. As far as I know he didn't have much in the way of physical things to give away. Of course there was that whole nifty water-to-wine trick and the loaves & fishes buffet. But 90% of what JC was all about couldn't be seen or heard or touched. It could be felt, though. I need to focus on the purpose of Christmas and maybe then I'll have the courage to untangle the Christmas lights.

A foodie vacation in Panama

2009-11-13T15:22:00.003-06:00

Fall in Central Texas is in full swing, bringing with it chilly morning fog and afternoon breezes with a snap to them, a reminder that colder days are ahead. When the weather turns cooler, my favorite activity is to plan a vacation. With our trees scattering brown leaves on the yard my thoughts turn toward visiting a land of vibrant flowers, lush green fauna and, of course, delicious food. I want to visit Panama.

Panama has it all: mountains, beaches, rainforests and bustling urban living. Forbes Magazine recently named Panama as one of its top retirement havens. Paradise, it seems, comes in the form of a country framed on one side by the Pacific Ocean and on the opposite by the Caribbean Sea. The long, narrow country is home to teeming wildlife, is extremely popular with birders, offers a multitude of activities from surfing, diving and hiking to eco-retreats and cooking tours.

The cuisine of Panama is as diverse, as the population is mainly Mestizo, a mix of European and Amerindian people. Throughout the years the food of Panama became a mix of African, Spanish and Native American cooking. Immigration over the years has left a mark on Panama. It’s simple enough to find Italian, Greek, Chinese, French and American restaurants in Panama City. But when I think of vacation I think of cooking tours. Others may relax by rappelling down a Cliffside; I relax by learning how to make a new dish or utilize an unusual spice.

Chef Charlie Collins has opened his home to foodies like me who wish to spend their days chopping, stirring, learning and eating. His Panamonte Culinary School is most prestigious, offering a chance to sample native foods like yuca and plantains and other tropical fruits, vegetables and ingredients from organic hydroponic farms and local markets. Guests take a “hands on” approach from selecting ingredients to cooking them, under Chef Collins instruction. The day ends with a tasting dinner of the dishes made in the chef’s professionally equipped and designed kitchen. Chef Collins’ masterful cooking has led to many awards including Life Time Achievement Award from the Bon Appetit Gourmet Club. He’s cooked for presidents of many countries at some of the most important events in recent Panamanian history. In short, if you are a food loving person in search of an unforgettable vacation, look no further.

Panamonte Culinary School is in the highland town of Boquete, in an area of Panama well-known for its coffee production. With verdant green mountains and a cooler climate, it’s a highly desirable tourist area. Chef Collins has both cooking school guests and those who wish to simply enjoy his Panamonte Inn & Spa. The boutique hotel has much to offer, from its gourmet restaurant and highly rated spa to arranging canopy rides and river rafting trips. And so, with the turn of the seasons here, I dream of a charming inn, of deeply flavored coffee, empanadas, patacones, meals of comfort foods like sancocho and ropa vieja. I dream of Panama.

In Austin, those wishing to book a trip to Panama with ease can do so by contacting Panama Boutique. The staff of Panama Boutique are experts in travel to and from the country. Their first-hand knowledge of Panama means a trip can be tailored to fit your desire, from cooking tours to lazy beachfront resorts.

My Belated Veteran's Day Thank You

2009-11-12T13:12:00.003-06:00

Thank you, American military personnel, both active & retired, for your service. Thank you for surrendering your opinions so that I can have one. Thank you for sacrificing your time in the states with family and friends in order to serve in a foreign land. Thank you for every time you ate a substandard meal so that I can have the freedom to choose from a bazillian fast food options or indulge in fine dining. Thank you for those deployed in the Middle East who place as high of a value on lip balm & months old magazines from home as we do on getting a new iPod or iPhone. Thank you for not complaining so that I have the luxury of bemoaning all day long. Thank you for your time, your sweat, your hard work. Thank you for serving so that our country stands strong and we at home are able to enjoy our families. My son thanks you, too, in his own babbling baby way, drool & all.

Ryder digs Tyler Florence's Sprout Foods

2009-10-20T17:23:00.004-05:00

Not that my kiddo is a picky eater at all but he does have a discriminating palate already. Ryder dislikes the flavor of most baby food brands we've tried so far. I don't blame him--I taste tested and thought they were nasty, too. The one brand we both think tastes good and is a great value for the money is Tyler Florence's line, Sprout. I'm not fond of the pouch/envelope packaging but Sprout has a page dedicated to why they chose the container. It's okay, it's just a little messy when you spoon out some food, then reuse by zipping it shut. Once Ryder eats more at one sitting it won't be a problem. Right now, though, he can easily get 3 meals out of one pouch.

The difference in taste is definite. The fruits taste fresher and there's no strange aftertaste or chemical zing. The way I see it, if I'd eat it, he'll eat it. And I know that other brands, not that I'm naming names, don't taste good to me. But oh, my he loves his Healthy Times maple teething biscuits!

Pissed About Balloon Boy

2009-10-15T17:18:00.003-05:00

I'm pissed about the whole Colorado balloon boy saga. All afternoon, I was glued to the internet watching the live video feed of the helium balloon floating over Colorado. Stressed out and worried about this child that I didn't know, I couldn't tear away from the news. As a parent, it hits home hard when a child is endangered. All I could think of was how terrified the boy had to be, how desperate his parents were to have him back safe and unharmed. When the balloon did land and he wasn't inside my imagination churned up the fear that he'd fallen out shortly after takeoff. Who could I call to suggest searching the rooftops in his subdivision?

Imagine my emotions when the reports come in that he is alive and hiding in a box in the family's attic. Angry. I'm angry that I allowed a drama unfolding in a different state to hijack my day. I'm irritated that my emotions are so easily ruffled. And I'm unhappy that I'm such a media junkie that I couldn't let go, back away from the monitor and chill out. No, I had to hang on every snippet of news tweeted, Facebooked, emailed and posted to websites of all kinds, network news sources included. And I'm sad that it made me agonize over future what if's of my own. What if Ryder is too adventurous and fearless for his own good? What if I can't keep my child safe?

Hopefully Falcon Heene is getting hugged and punished. Hugged because he is loved by his family and punished because there are consequences for your actions. And his family may very well get a honkin' big bill from the state of Colorado for all the resources used to track the balloon and prepare for emergency medical treatment. I'm thankful they spared no expense but now the Heene family needs to foot the bill.

Busy, busy, busy

2009-09-30T11:53:00.002-05:00

Haven't updated in a while simply because I'm busy. In the last month I've:

Attended the Austin Cocktail Throwdown (loved the winning libation).
Took a week long vacation to visit my twin in the St. Louis metro area where I got to eat the most delicious Vietnamese cuisine, ever.
Managed to go see my man mate's band play a gig (first time in forever that I've done that).
Sadly neglected my Examiner page but a concerted effort on my Twitter site has paid off in followers.
Completed a 9 mile walk/run followed the next week by a 10 miler, then a 9.5 miler and soon, another 10 miler for my San Antonio Rock & Roll Half Marathon training.
Missed sweet baby Ryder saying "Mama" for the first time (and two more times after that) because I was away from home. Perhaps he only says it when I'm not around. If a baby says "Mama" in the forest, does it still mean I have to change his diaper?
Had my last chiropractic appointment for my shoulder problem. Thanks, Chris!
Unpacked exactly one box from the huge stash in our garage...leftover from moving the contents of our storage room to our house a few months ago. It'll get done. Sometime.

And there's more, most of which is too dull to post. What've you been up to?

Six Months Old & Sleeping Through the Night

2009-09-10T10:51:00.004-05:00

Technically Ryder's 6.75 months old but hey, that's alright. What's important is that he went down to sleep at 10pm and didn't wake up until 6:30am. And he really didn't wake up much. The milk faucets were dripping and I, as Dairy Overseer, made the executive decision to gently remove my child from his crib and hold him to my chest. He didn't even open his eyes but immediately latched on for breakfast. That's my kid, not gonna miss a meal.

I think he would've slept an hour or more longer had I not woken him. Perhaps tomorrow morning I'll pump if he's still asleep when my boobs demand relief. Please, God, let there be a repeat of last night's good sleeping. Yes, I've gone from bargaining with God to let me live through this hangover (always uttered while worshipping at the porcelain throne) to pleading with Him for sleep. That's life, always begging our deities for something. Don't think I'm not appreciative. Once I bolted awake (wet sheets + ceiling fan = cold) and rushed to the nursery I was thanking God that Ryder was okay. I automatically assumed something must be hideously wrong since my sweet babe let me sleep for so long of a stretch. One for the baby books!

Another one for the baby book is Ryder's first diss. His first insult was dished out by his cousin Michael, oh so wordly at the ripe old age of ten. We were visiting Kim in St. Louis and riding in the car on an errand. Ryder was playing with Michael's favorite toy as an infant, a stuffed purple rhino. The rhino's horn is a bit worn from when Michael used to gnaw on it. My baby must've trying to mouth it's bum because Michael suddenly exclaimed "Wrong end, Baby Einstein!". It was said affectionately but with a hint of sarcasm. We exploded into laughter. Okay, so maybe not as amusing in the retelling but at the time it was quite funny.

At Least I'm Not Octomom

2009-08-21T09:16:00.000-05:00

Every day I feel like I'm the best mom in the world. And every day I feel like I'm the worst. Yesterday evening when I got in from work my sweet Ryder was happily playing on the floor while watching "How It's Made" on tv. What? He likes the colors. Don't judge. You know your kids are parked in front of the boob tube watching Elmo or Spongebob or :::shudder::: The Wiggles. Creepy. But my baby was excited to see me, babbling and smiling and drooling hello. Couldn't wait for me to pick him up so he attempted crawling to me. He can hump up on all fours and stick his butt in the air, scoot forward a little bit on his knees but other than that, no decent amount of forward motion. When he couldn't get to me, he bawled. Even though he was upset, it made me feel like a celebrity. Rock star mom!

Fast forward to bedtime. Ryder is tuckered out, has nursed to contentment and is snoring softly on my shoulder. Until I put him in his crib. Then the wailing begins. Loud wailing. So loud I wonder if the neighbors can hear it, and if so, will they be calling CPS? After an eternity of heartrending sobs (two minutes) I put my hand on Ryder's chest, patting and shushing him. He gives me a look that says "How could you, Mom? Why did you rip me away from the warmth of your body and the comfort of hearing your heartbeat?". I cave, pick him up. We repeat this scenario several more times until Ryder's exhausted from crying and passes out. I'm almost too exhausted to pour a Maker's Mark & water. Worst mother in the world.

In all seriousness, each day I soar between feeling ultra-confident in my parenting abilities and being despondent at how little I can do right. Every time I rejoice in some developmental goal met by Ryder there is a list in a baby book telling me all the things he should be able to do at his age, but isn't. Self doubt will kick in before I reach the end of the paragraph. Should I be doing more? What about baby signing? Reading to him? Speaking in Spanish as well as English and sign language?

And nursing goes hand in hand with my highs and lows. One day I'm making a decent amount of milk, the next day Ryder's getting a formula supplement. It's taken six months for me to finally be (almost) guilt free. I wish my body could support my baby's total dietary needs but it just doesn't make enough all the time. I'm satisfied that on most days I can produce just enough. It's happy, happy me when I come home with 11oz for Ryder's next day meals. No extra, but enough. We don't have bags of frozen milk in our freezer but my baby has had mainly breastmilk for six months. I'm good.

Another Austin mom who empathizes with my special brand of crazy when it comes to motherhood put it into perspective for me. "At least we aren't Octomom", said Chelsea. My worries come to a screeching halt when I compare myself to that trainwreck of a mother. Yup. Could be a whole lot worse.

Being a working mother

2009-08-11T17:16:00.003-05:00

My Austin Mamas group had a discussion going on in email about being a working mother. Someone wrote a post with bullet points that really got me thinking. It's hard to be a working mother. Not to ignore that working fathers would love to have more one-on-one time with their children, but I don't have a man's point of view, so this is all me, all my perspective.

I get up, nurse Ryder and get ready for work. I spend 10 hours away, including commute time, excluding any additional errands that suck up more time. Upon arriving back at home, I nurse Ryder, talk to Jaime unless he's off to band practice or a gig, play with Ryder, eat dinner (rarely do I make dinner on weekdays anymore), possibly maybe throw a load of laundry in or fold clean clothes & put them away, play with Ryder, get him ready for bed, nurse him, put him down and then I might have a half hour of free time. I'd kill to have time to decompress/de-stress after work but the only down time between the paying job and the Mama job is my commute.

On Saturday mornings I make time for my half marathon training group. After that it's all about Ryder, somewhat about Jaime and a little bit about our house (making meals, mostly). I don't have much time just for me other than my training. I can't remember the last book I read at home. I know I was still pregnant. This is a HUGE departure from norm for me. I spent the last oh probably 35 years before Ryder as a daily reader.

I don't feel like life is in balance or that it is the way it should be. I feel guilty. Guilty at the time spent away from my child. Guilty for the the many meals that I don't cook. Guilty that Jaime and I don't have much in the way of quality time for each other. I'd love to go on a date with him. Soon. And I feel guilty in wishing he had a job that paid well enough for me to stay home with our son. Add a big ole heaping spoonfull of me feeling guilty that I didn't stay in school, get a degree and have a job that pays me better than my current salary and you've got a steaming tureen of guilt. Guilt, guilt, guilt.

It's hard to be a working mother. I'm sure stay-at-home-moms have their fare share of troubles, too. Sorry, I don't share your perspective, either. So this post is a me me me guilt trip.

What makes it all worthwhile is that in between my dragging ass in the mornings trying to get ready for work and succumbing to exhaustion at night, two very special things will happen. Both are magical and beautiful. It is when, in the midst of my craziness, my baby will look at me and smile, an amazing whole face smile and that is my moment, my shining moment of balance...and it's all worth it. I'll lose myself in that smile, with all its promise and love and sweetness. And the second thing is that I'll then turn to look at Jaime, the man who gave me this marvelous creature. It's then that I'm certain I, too, am smiling with my whole face while I thank him for our son.

Trapped intelligence: the baby package

2009-08-07T13:53:00.001-05:00

I've discovered that my idea of a baby as a blank slate waiting to be filled is wrong. My role of a parent as teacher and holder of the keys to the universe is only partially right. Damned if I know how, but babies are intelligent all on their own. They're trapped intelligence, wrapped up in a baby package with few skills to communicate with us. But don't think their lack of speech means they aren't sentient. Oh no, this is like being an English-only American in a country that speaks zero English. We know we're smart but the guy behind the counter at the little store doesn't understand our hand gestures to mean "where do you stock the feminine hygeine products?".

My son and I communicate in several ways. Of course there's the usual crying, which is actually multiple types of cries meaning different things. The hungry cry. The look-at-me-look-at-me cry. The bored cry. The fussy cry. And there's different categories of laughter, too, depending on the situation. Daddy gets more belly laughs than I do because he can make funnier noises. My baby uses his hands and his feet now, to get his point across. Don't want to be held closely? He'll push with arms and legs away from me. Want to be closer? He leans in, grabs a fistful of hair and rubs his face into my shoulder or chest.

But the communication that strikes me the deepest isn't verbal. It's the times when my baby is quiet, nursing or not, and he'll stare deeply into my eyes. I look back into the depths of his and marvel at how gorgeous he is, how pure and innocent. We'll gaze, unblinking, savoring the moment and the bond and then he'll smile. And oh, what a smile! That smile will bloom on his face like a swiftly opening morning glory flower, lighting up his features as if they were sun-kissed, with eyes sparkling. It shocks me, the swiftness of the smile, and I feel as if there is an electrical current running from my heart outside my body to this amazing little creature. The unbridaled, unconditional love he has for me shines through that smile in a way that I can only hope will never be lost. And that years later during expected less fun parts of parenthood, I know these smiles will sustain me.

My explanation of these magical moments is feeble, at best. It's hard to put it into words. But the intelligence and love I see in my son's eyes at that moment when he moves from seriousness to joy tells me that beyond a shadow of a doubt there is an intelligent being inside that tiny little body. There is a sharp mind locked behind a temporary communication barrier. I have to wonder, is it all about teaching a child about the world or is it the child teaching us about himself that's important?

My weekend: Miles walking, cupcakes & no sleep

2009-08-03T15:36:00.004-05:00

Here's my weekend in one sentence: I got next to no sleep but I did walk 5 miles before emcee'ing the Cupcake Smackdown. To break it down, I'll address each part with the most important one first.

How the hell do I get Ryder to go to sleep? This kid is either a developing superhero who's power is never needing sleep or else he's been put on earth to be a torture device. Seriously, have a Guantanamo POW babysit for a weekend and in no time we'll not only know where to find Bin Laden, we'll have his cell phone number AND we'll know who killed JFK. Ryder's ability to stay awake has resulted in severe sleep deprivation for both Mommy & Daddy. Sanity must be saved. We tried the "cry it out" method. He'll scream until he's hoarse, pause for a moment and resume screaming. He is a happy boy unless you try to put him down for a nap. Then my sweet, playful babe turns into a hellspawn demonseed. He's perfectly content to live on a total of 6 hours of sleep per night while we are struggling to survive. Oh, but he'll nap if you're holding him. Only if you're holding him. The moment his back hits the bed, the couch, the quilt on the floor he's wide eyed and good to go. If he wants to continue sleeping, he'll cry voraciously until you pick him up again. Then he'll sleep 5 more minutes. Arrgggh!!! I want to burn my copy of On Becoming Babywise because it's been no help at all.

A much nicer part of my weekend was spent emceeing the Cupcake Smackdown 1.0. I was slated to be a judge but got pressed into emcee duties instead. My waistline thanks the organizer of the Smackdown for that good decision. I did eat one cupcake, a french toast one. It was frosted with either maple syrup flavored buttercream or perhaps a light cream cheese frosting and topped with candied bacon. Bacon!! I'm totally making these at home once we finish moving my kitchen stuff from storage. Need my blender for the frosting. The Smackdown was a huge success with approximately 1,000 folks attending. Exhausting and fun. You can see me, in a red shirt, standing on the stage in front of the windows in the very full bar in a pic on the blog Foodie is the New Forty. There's also a pic of the french toast cupcake.

I'm still training for the Rock & Roll Half Marathon in San Antonio. Not sure how I'll come up with the money for the entry fee. It's $90 until the end of the month when it goes up to $95. I just don't have an extra almost hundred bucks in the budget. At any rate, I did 5 miles with my more-faithful-than-me workout partner Stephanie Delk. Stephanie rocks, in more ways than one (follow the link to her website). She keeps me going when I'd like to lay down on the sidewalk or catch a cab. Or a bus. Or commandeer a private car by pretending my water bottle is a large grenade, anything so that I don't have to finish our route. It was humid and hot on Saturday morning and I was ticked that my heart rate monitor stopped working. Or at least we think it did, since it kept giving me a reading of 238 yet I was still upright, mobile and conscious.

Next weekend I have no plans. I'm going to try to keep it that way, too.

It's a Cupcake Smackdown!

2009-07-31T15:04:00.003-05:00

And I'm a judge. Woohoo! Come out to Cupcake Smackdown 1.0 on Saturday at the One2One Bar (kid & dog friendly) from 4-7pm. Free admission unless ya wanna enter the cupcake eating contest ($10). Proceeds benefit the Wine & Food Foundation of Texas.

Just Keeps Getting Cuter

2009-07-30T16:26:00.003-05:00

I don't know why his hair always looks red in pictures. I promise when you see him IRL it's brown. But here, like in other pics, he looks like a ginger kid. This picture is of Ryder in his fav spot in the house: on the floor underneath his playgym.

Flavor Tripping, Part Deux

2009-07-30T16:22:00.002-05:00

The flavor tripping party at The Belmont was so much fun and such a success that the organizers have scheduled another for tomorrow evening. Read about it here and don't forget to buy tickets through the link I provide in the article--my readers get a $10 discount.

Chicken Feet!

2009-07-23T20:17:00.002-05:00

I tried chicken feet today. Yup. Trick or treat, smell my feet, give me something good to eat. How was it? For the full review, go here. I can honestly say that I probably won't order it again. Definitely an unusual "treat".

An Etouffee Recipe for the Microwave? Say what??

2009-07-22T11:08:00.003-05:00

Yes, it's true. I made this over and over during my time at LSU. It was a roommate's mother who puttered around with an etouffee recipe, tweaking it until she had an easy one that utilized the microwave. The ingredient list calls for canned soup, something you don't normally find in an authentic recipe but the result is a very authentic tasting etouffee. And the addition of green onion as well as regular onion is not a typo. Just do it. The green tops add a slightly different flavor and color.

Nowadays I'll add more Tabasco than the recipe calls for and sometimes more garlic & tomato, too. Just depends on my mood. I've subbed crawfish tail meat for the shrimp, too. I cook it on the stovetop, not the microwave but heck, if pressed for time I won't hesitate to throw it in and nuke it.

Microwave Shrimp Etouffee
1/4 c margarine or butter
1/2 c chopped onion
1/2 c chopped green onion
1/2 c chopped bell pepper
4 cloves minced garlic
1/2 c diced celery
1/2 c chopped fresh parsley
3 T tomato paste
1 can (10.75 oz) cream of chicken soup
1lb cleaned, shelled raw shrimp
1/4 t salt
1/4 t pepper
1/4 t hot pepper sauce
1/4 t cayenne pepper

In a 2qt microwave safe bowl combine first six ingredients. Microwave on high for 8-9 minutes until veggies are soft. (May break it up into 3 minute segments, stir). Stir in parsley, tomato paste, soup and spices and heat for another 2-5 minutes until mixture thickens. You want a gravy-like consistency. Add shrimp and heat until opaque and "c" shaped, about 1-2 minutes. Serve over cooked white rice.

Years ago I added this to the allrecipes database. There are some reviews where folks share how they changed the recipe to suit them. Check it out here.

First Time Swimming

2009-07-16T17:02:00.006-05:00

Ryder wasn't certain he liked the water. He isn't crazy about baths. After a short while in the warm water, he decided it wasn't so bad after all.

We most assuredly enjoyed our time lounging in and around the rooftop pool at our friends' condo. The luxury condos had a doorman in the lobby, where you stop to sign in. He called upstairs to announce us and, I'm sure, find out if we were welcome. After getting the greenlight, he walked us to the elevator and unlocked it with a swipe of a key card. Swanky. Jaime kept humming the theme to The Jeffersons.

They don't make swim diapers for babies under 16lbs so Ryder wore a regular diaper. Talk about super absorbency! Poor guy weighed 80lbs when we took him out. Had to refill the pool.

It was wonderful to catch up with friends, to laugh and talk, eat great food and drink a few beers. The babies (Ryder has a new girlfriend, just a few weeks younger than him) were held and kissed and showered with attention. Can't ask for a much better time with good people.

20 Things Every Woman Should Do Before Marriage

2009-07-16T11:10:00.002-05:00

I lifted this from Sara's Blog.

Live by herself for at least a year. Done!
Live with someone else for at least a year. Yep
Recover from a broken heart. Done, done and done.
Have a vacation fling. Oh, yeah. BTDT
Take a road trip with a group of girlfriends. There was the trip to Mexico which resulted in me being held at the border for no ID. I'd left it in the hotel in the good ol' US of A.
Relish sleeping in a queen sized bed by yourself. I still relish that, when I can get a nap alone. Otherwise I'm all for snuggle bunnying.
Get her finances in order. Hmm. Did this with help. Thanks, Jaime!
Learn to love her body. Finally do, jiggly bits and all.
Have sex with at least one person she'd never want to marry (or introduce to mom). I plead the fifth.
Find reliable birth control. Yeah, I have a surprise son.
Pay off as much credit card debt and student loans as possible. Do you know how long it's been since I was in school?
Spend way too much on something frivolous. I've done this way too many times.
Exorcise all past relationship demons. It took a bushel of sage for smudging and several gallons of holy water but I've finally purged the ghosts of relationships past.
Travel somewhere exotic. Does Cancun & Cozumel count? Or Yellowstone?
Establish a strong circle of friends. My friends ROCK!!!
Forgive her parents for not being perfect. Yes, I did.
Have at least one night she can't quite remember. Just one?
Experience some really bad first dates. Jaime+quesadillas=sour cream in moustache doesn't quite top the "warm from my balls" guy*.
Find hobbies that fulfill her. Finding the time for my hobbies is the new quest.
Celebrate her 25th birthday. Do they make you wait until 26 to get married now? I've done that and celebrated 30, 35 and 40...will be celebrating 42 on Sunday.

*Worst bad date ever involved a man who, while going into the movie theater, offered me a handful of starlight mints. I declined, and as he was stuffing them into his pockets he said "I know, you want one later, when they're warm from my balls." After throwing up a bit in my mouth, I politely replied "I didn't want to know you had balls." Never went out with him again.

Dear Past Lovers: You Totally Screwed Up

2009-07-13T13:01:00.006-05:00

I had a moment this weekend when I stopped the whirling stream-of-consciousness that is my thought process and concentrated on the moment, thankful of how amazing my life has become. I'm grateful that I have an incredible life partner who's a wonderful father. And I'm happy with the way I turned out, too. Dear Past Lovers: You totally screwed up when you dumped me. I'm a catch that's been caught.

The pianist Arthur Rubinstein said "Love life and it will love you back." I firmly believe his words although there were years when I felt like I was pouring my love out and not getting much in return. Now, with my family, I understand what life was saving up for me. It's like being a child and expecting to get a small piece of candy as a treat but instead you're served an enormous ice cream sundae. I love life and life's loving me back, all the chocolate fudge and whipped cream covered minutes of it.

Not Latina Enough

2009-07-06T16:52:00.004-05:00

I've always been proud of my Mexican American heritage. Very proud. I'm much closer to the Mexican American side of the family than I am to my Anglo relatives; therefore I identify as Latina. But I'm never Latina enough, it seems. I know this is an insecurity within myself that has been nurtured over the years by the many times that people see only my pale skin, not the fiery Mexicana-americana underneath. And it's a nerve that I hit myself, when I clumsily converse in Spanish.

Although it was my first language, I have never been fluent. Nunca. I want more than ever to become fluent now, with a son to teach to speak. I want his first words to be bilingual, like mine were. Yet for him I want more. I want him to grow up speaking both languages. And for myself, quiero ser bilingüe. It's important to me to help my three-fourths Anglo son learn about his culture, his familia, his roots. And that involves me learning to speak better Spanish.

We're on a severely limited budget, so I'm doing what I can by checking out bilingual books from the library and reading. I've found that when I read Spanish it touches some distant memory inside me, sparking a moment of recognition, as if my brain already contains the knowledge but needs me to learn the pathway to fluency.

I wince when I speak aloud, though. I hear my terrible accent and feel like a sham, not Latina enough. But I find myself whispering to my son in Spanish without thinking about it. "Shhh, mi hijo. No llores." I sing to him the few songs I know in Spanish, a lullaby and La Cucaracha.

There's many, many versions of the last verse of La Cucaracha. I think most people have heard of the one that ends "marijuana por fumar". Interestingly enough, one version pokes fun at American Anglos who can't deal with the rising tide of bilingual culture:
El tonto Anglo, el tonto Anglo
ya no puede platicar,
porque no tiene, porque le falta,
español que hablar.
I feel like that song was written about me. The silly white girl who can't make conversation because I don't have any Spanish to speak.

I can at least take comfort in knowing that mi hijo will grow up eating tortillas, caldos, enchiladas, menudo and other home-cooked ethnic comfort foods. Por la gracia de Dios I will feed him like a Latina mamí.

Ryder's Not Sure About His Bumbo Chair

2009-07-06T16:41:00.001-05:00

Diaper Bag is My New Purse

2009-07-06T16:31:00.003-05:00

It was bound to happen. There's too much to carry when you have a baby. You have to start jettisoning belongings and paring down what to schlep around. My diaper bag has replaced my handbag.

And for my babydaddy, he's gained a bag. I have my chocolate brown & light blue diaper bag; he has his plain black daddy bag. I keep a camera, mascara, ID, credit card, lip gloss and cell phone in the extra pocket of my bag. I think he usually carries a camera as well.

We both have the usual assortment of baby-related items: diapers, extra change of clothes, clean burp cloths, blanket, Mylicon (that stuff is gold, I tell ya), Boudreaux's Butt Paste, wipes and gallon sized Ziploc bags. The Ziplocs are perfect for sealing off baby clothes in the event of a nuclear reactor melt down and ginormous blow out poo. Ryder's odd microwave buttered popcorn poo stench can be safely contained.

I feel like the mama-hood equivalent of a "What's in your wallet" commercial.

The Lush Life: My Alcoholic Fantasy World

2009-06-23T10:39:00.005-05:00

Life is great. I can't complain but I will. Those statements are quickly becoming my Summer 2009 mantra. What am I whining about today? I want drinks. I want happy hour. I want to get kacheery. I want the Lush Life that I've enjoyed in the past. Hah! I realize that life is long gone. It was a crazy carnival ride while it lasted, my misspent youth. And by "youth" I mean all the years between 15 and 41. It was a helluva time.

I drink one beer a day, normally a dark one, as a lactation aid. It's somewhat controversial on whether a single beer a day can help a nursing mom produce more milk but hell, I enjoy it and my baby isn't being harmed. Yes, I could simply take brewer's yeast but what's the fun in that? My lone beer is a gift from Bacchus for being a working mother.

But I'd really love to throw caution to the wind and breastmilk down the drain guilt free and go out on the town for multiple drinks. I'd love to fork over my hard earned dollars and do a shot of Jack, Coke back while waiting for my col'beer to arrive. And repeat that scenario an hour later, preferably in one of my favorite gay bars being served by one of my favorite gay bartenders, the ones who really know the meaning of "cocktail" (nothing dirty, just a beautifully poured drink).

I think back fondly on the days when relaxing after work meant pouring a glass of wine and arranging a plate of cheese and bread or crackers to nibble on while cooking dinner. I'd have a big red or maybe a prosecco with whatever cheese I fancied at the store that week. Nowadays my one beer is usually warm by the time I finish it between nursing Ryder and eating my own dinner.

I've become a beer snob, too. If you can have only one drink you'd make sure it's a good one, no? My favs this summer so far are Breckinridge Vanilla Porter and Shiner Smokehaus, the delightful "smokin' sommer bier" from the folks at the little brewery that could. I go back and forth between the dark & deep porter with the hint of vanilla and the refreshingly bright Helles-style Shiner with the little bit of smokiness.

I want to drink copious amounts of margaritas with my girlfriends on some sunny patio somewhere. Only with our current heat wave make that a sunny yet air conditioned enclosed patio somewhere. And top shelf ritas, please. I'm not wasting my time on cheap tequila. Republic will do me fine and I'll be keeping it local. Patron for shots, of course.

Alas, the Lush Life is no more. Long live the Lush Life! I can't afford to waste my baby's meals by polluting it with alcohol to the point that it's garbage. But I can still dream of the day, 8 months or so ahead in time, when I can call all my friends and squeal "happy hour after work!". I'm sure by then I'll be the cheapest drunk you can find, kinda like junior high was for me. Life is cyclical, right?

And por favor, no e-mails or comments listing the nearest AA meeting. I'm not an alcoholic. I'm just a reformed bar girl who's finding out that forbidden fruit is the sweetest.

Plibbbibbt!!

2009-06-23T10:37:00.002-05:00

SuperCrash & Sound Wars

2009-06-12T10:55:00.003-05:00

Jaime's band is vying for the headlining gig at the Austin Chronicle's Hot Sauce Festival later this year. The Chronicle is choosing the band through an online battle of the band contest dubbed Sound Wars. You can vote once a day...and I'd surely appreciate you voting for SuperCrash. Each band has an mp3 up of an original song so you can listen before voting. SuperCrash posted "Another Lover" the sweet sweet song about love...and murder. A singer songwriter in the contest has posted what I think is the best song title ever: "I Knew I Knew I'd Hit Rock Bottom (When I Woke Up On Top of You). John Ford gets props for that.

So go vote for S'Crash....mama likes hot sauce.

3 Month Old Baby Toes

2009-06-05T11:10:00.005-05:00

This little piggy went to market.
This little piggy stayed at home.
This little piggy had roast beef,
This little piggy had none.
And this little piggy cried "Wee! Wee! Wee!" all the way home.

An updated picture to the one of my hands and Ryder's month old toes. This one has Daddy's hands, my ring and in the background, my hand on Ryder's chest.

Austin Restaurant Examiner

2009-06-04T21:16:00.002-05:00

I'm venturing into freelance writing these days. I'm still finding my feet (and my voice) but I think it's a good gig. I'm covering Austin restaurants for a website called the Examiner. "Examiners" are writers who have expertise in their area. There's all kinds of examiners such as the Austin Budget Travel Examiner, Austin Gay Parenting Examiner and me, the Austin Restaurant Examiner. Check it out sometime.

Sweet sleeping babe

2009-06-04T21:08:00.002-05:00

We had Ryder's three month birthday pictures taken. In my opinion he's breathtakingly beautiful. Thank you, Burnett, for such a great photo session!

Sleep Resentment

2009-05-28T20:31:00.004-05:00

Ryder's getting better at sleeping. He's even managing one long stretch of about 5 hours each night. Unfortunately, he still prefers to stay up late and sleep in, much like his father. My sweet partner-in-crime is a SAHD. He's also a night person. Mornings, according to him, shouldn't arrive before noon.

The way Ryder's schedule is set up at this point, he doesn't fall asleep for the night until midnight, sometimes later. He wakes me up sometime between 4-6am. He'll nurse and then I shake Daddy awake and hand Ryder off for burping and a diaper change before going back to sleep. If the baby wakes up in the earlier part of the morning, he's sure to want to eat again before I go to work. I'll kiss both my men goodbye and hit the road while they hit the sack, sleeping in until noon or even later.

Is it wrong to be resentful of my wonderful babydaddy's extra sleep? Probably. But with my limited amount of rest I can't summon up the strength to be magnanimous. Nope, what I want instead is the freedom to go to bed at 8pm a few nights a week. Unfortunately this isn't realistic. But a girl can dream, can't she?

I can't complain (but I will) since I'm well taken care of at home. Jaime cooks dinner most every night in addition to doing laundry. My mister is one damn fine househubby. If only there was some magic potion I could quaff that would leave me feeling refreshed, relaxed and rejuvenated! Instead I'm waking up tired, crabby and with what may be permanent bags under my eyes.

Then I look at my beautiful child and I smile through the exhaustion. He is gorgeous, pure and innocent. His sleepy smiles in the wee hours capture my heart. And so I pour a cup of coffee, just one. I am nursing, after all. Babies grow fast. I can do this. In a month it'll be better. In three more months it will be much better (I hope). One day I'll look back and remember how tired I was but that thought will quickly be replaced by memories of how small Ryder was at 2 months and 3 months old. I'll smile at the memory of how in the early morning he'd be so sleepy and pliable, his tiny, warm body molding to my curves as he nursed. These thoughts sustain me, keep me optimistic and hopeful. Sleep will come, in time.

Our First Austin Fire Department Event

2009-05-05T12:28:00.003-05:00

Over the weekend, our little family had its first Austin Fire Department event. No, Jaime wasn't burning his resume in a "screw The Man" fit of rebellion. Nope, Ryder hasn't started walking yet so the knobs on our gas stove are still safely off when we're not actively using the burners. And nuh uh, I did not succumb to a fit of hysterics and barricade myself into the bathroom screaming "I won't come out until someone promises me I can have 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep!". Although I admit to thinking about that one.

No, we did the ultimate of awesome parenting: we locked the keys and our sleeping son in the car while at a gas station. Yup. Locked our baby in the car. In Texas. In summer. Technically it's not summer yet but when temps are hitting the high 80's/low 90's it's close enough to call it summer. And so we had Ryder, asleep in his car seat, and the keys dangling from the ignition.

I learned that when you call Pop-a-Lock they will dispatch the nearest technician, who will drop whatever they're doing and come to your location. They also call the fire department. Whomever gets there first opens the car.

As we waited, listening for sirens, I circled the car several times, fighting the urge to break a window. I knew Ryder wasn't in danger. He was asleep, not crying. The car was parked in the shade and it was early, so the temperature was mild. These rational thoughts were swirling through my head just as quickly as the irrational emotion was churning up inside me. The best way I can describe it is a burning, raw lava flow inside me. It pulsed hotly in time with the thoughts "you have to get to him" and "you can't get in there". It was most definitely primal and if Jaime hadn't been there to calm me I probably would've given in and smashed a window.

A very nice locksmith happened to pull into the gas station just as AFD arrived. He offered to open the car for free. AFD deferred to "the professional" and watched him use two inflatable car door wedges and then reached in with a long tool and hit the power locks button. They compared notes, since AFD uses a blood pressure cuff (now they'll use two). Pop-a-Lock came and went, seeing as we had plenty of people surrounding our car.

Ryder was still sleeping when I yanked open the back door and leaned in, kissing him and checking his body temp. He was fine, of course. A firefighter checked the indoor temp and asked if I wanted her to give Ryder a once over. I declined, he was fine. We'd been joking with the firefighters about my blood pressure and feeling hysterical so they kindly offered to check me out as well. I declined but thanked them. Once the door was unlocked my agitation subsided.

Nominate us for Parents of the Year but know this, we won't be locking our keys in the car again. Lesson learned. Keys go in pockets or palm as soon as you turn off the engine.

Breastfeeding Lies I've Been Told

2009-05-05T09:02:00.003-05:00

I've always been a strong proponent of breastfeeding. Heck, for over 9 years I've been a member of a group of women who's sole purpose in forming was to offer breastfeeding advice and support to each other---and I was the only one who'd never lactated. That's a story in itself but here we are, close to 10 years later and I've finally fulfilled our nickname of "lactating loopies". For the record, the Loopies have never steered me wrong, never uttered untruths about breastfeeding and never painted a rosy picture over a landscape that should include lots of browns, greys and black. Here are a few of breastfeeding myths and lies that others have told me:

Breastfeeding is the easiest way to feed your baby.

Uhh, no it isn't. There isn't anything easy about it in the beginning, when you're trying to squish something the consistency of an ultrathick milkshake out of your nipples. And there's nothing easy about helping your baby learn to latch on correctly. When you have a newborn screaming the "I'M STARVING" cry and you're having to pop him off the boob and back on again there is simply nothing easy about it. And you can't leave him latched on wrong or the pain hits...oh yeah, the pain. Think of what it would feel like if someone froze your nipple, then pinched it as hard as possible. When your nip is compressed completely into an unnatural shape, they let go and the painful sensation turns from frostbite ouchie into needle stabbing sharpness.

So...let's just be honest and say it is much easier to feed your child from a bottle, be it breastmilk or formula. And I'll follow that by saying that although it is harder than bottle feeding I believe that the skin-to-skin contact elevates the mother-baby bond to a much higher level. If you can't or won't breastfeed I suggest taking off your top and the baby's onesie and feeding with bare skin. Call me crazy, but there's something very comforting for both mom and child when you utilize skin-to-skin contact. Just try it, if you haven't already.

Breastfeeding is more convenient.

I've been told that breastfeeding is more convenient because I don't have to worry about carting around bottles and expressed breastmilk or formula. There's plenty of inconveniences such as when you're out running errands and the baby wants to nurse but you aren't anywhere close to home. If you don't have some nifty nursing shirt or wrap that allows you to modestly feed your baby then you have to deal with the pervy stares and outright glares of uptight people. I've already fed Ryder in several parking lots...I use a receiving blanket to cover us but he doesn't like having a meal under the covers. When we're over at a friend's house it isn't every friend who's comfortable with me whipping out a boob nor is it convenient to ask to use a private room to feed Ryder.

Breastfeeding will help you lose weight.

Breastfeeding burns about 500 calories a day, that's true, but helping you to lose weight? No. What happens if you were to engage in an activity that would burn an equivalent amount of calories, say running? You get hungry. Uh huh. You want to eat. This is not conducive to weight loss. Breastfeeding makes me hungry. All the breastfeeding books tell you that you need to concentrate on good nutrition. Seriously, you finally get away from feeling like a ground walking whale but can't diet. Exercise, yes. Dieting, no. Healthful eating yes. Restricting calories below 2600/day, no. And whaddya know, the number one change that has happened in my body since I started nursing is craving carbs. Crave 'em! I want them with an intensity on par with a junkie needing a fix. I salivate over the thought of sweetly yeasty buttered dinner rolls, sinfully dark and moist chocolate cake with rich, thick fudge icing, a pile of mashed potatoes with a little flecks of potato skin here and there, topped with peppered country-style white gravy....I could go on and on revealing my carb porn dreams.

Now you know the truth, that there are some myths being bandied about by well meaning folks. Or maybe I have it all wrong and there are women to whom breastfeeding is easy peasy and they never have a moment's trouble. I'm still advocating for breastfeeding if at all possible. I'm happy that Ryder prefers me to a bottle even when he's indulged in cluster feeding and has drained me dry but is still insistent on more, more, more. And I'm not opposed to formula. Ryder started off being supplemented with formula and still is, albeit a very small amount compared to breastmilk. So please, La Leche Leaguers, no hate mail or nasty comments. I know breast is best.

Nothing More Adorable

2009-05-01T13:50:00.002-05:00

Absolutely nothing is more adorable than baby feet. These are Ryder's one month old toes. I kiss them often.

House of Night

2009-05-01T13:27:00.003-05:00

I've been indulging in guilty pleasure reading again, this time with a teen vamp series. The House of Night books tell the story of Zoey, an average high school student until she's "marked" as a fledgling vampire and sent off to a vamp finishing school. The story lines have been interesting but there's a few things that annoy me:

I solve the mystery before the end of the book. That means I'm reading along wondering when the imaginary characters are going to catch up with what I already know. I hope this is simply immature plot development and that the writers, a mother/daughter duo, will become more skilled as time goes by. I'm only on the third book in the series so I'm hopeful this is the case. I had the same opinion of my favorite pleasure-read author, Laurell K. Hamilton, who has grown light years as a writer from her earliest books.
I loathe the use of the term "brown pop" for a dark colored soda. The authors, P. C. & Kristin Cast don't hesitate to use brand names such as Doritos or Starbucks but they can't seem to make themselves write "Coke", "Pepsi" or "Barq's". Seriously ladies, cut it the hell out. It sounds stupid. I googled, to make sure I wasn't hating on some regional colloquialism but no, "brown pop" isn't one.
U-we-tsi-a-ge-ya. The Cherokee word for daughter. After the first time you explain that "u-we-tsi-a-ge-ya" is the Cherokee word for daughter, there isn't a need to keep explaining. Each time Zoey's grandmother visits or is on the phone you use the term AND the explanation at least twice. Trust me, we've got it by now. Define it once per book and be done with it. I realize you're writing for teens but even they have a memory.

To be fair, here's a few things I love:

The mark. What a nifty idea! When a teen who carries the vamp gene enters into the period of time where he develops into a vamp (or dies, read the books, you'll understand), he is marked by a crescent shaped tattoo. When a fledgling finishes vampire puberty and enters adulthood, that tattoo is filled in and more decoration is added, such as Celtic symbols or other intricate designs. This is so much more exciting than just being an extraordinarily beautiful vampire.
Teens being teens. The authors don't sugarcoat teenagers. They portray them as they are: nice, bitchy, thoughtful, catty, scatterbrained, horny, shopaholics and more.
Diversity. There's gay fledglings. Can you imagine coming out to your parents as a gay vampire?

Don't take my word for Gospel, go out and pick up a copy of the first book, Marked, and read it. Let me know what you think. If nothing else, it's better than watching mediocre television.

Singing the Parenthood Blues

2009-03-27T01:05:00.004-05:00

All I'd like is to be able to sleep for as many hours at a time as my body would like. And that is something that apparently won't happen ever.again.in.my.life. Or at least not until after I stop nursing and/or Ryder goes to college. This morning I was so exhausted after the 3am feeding and the 7am marathon nursing session that I slept through the next demand for food--an hour later. Jaime says I mumbled "Mama called it" when he brought our crying son to me. He asked "what?", wondering what I called. I replied "the green box". Of course. Makes perfect sense. Uh huh. I don't even recall hearing Ryder crying much less the talking in my sleep part. It's a good thing my boy had already hoovered the boobs dry or else they'd have possibly exploded. I did get a little extra sleep, though.

But the good news is that he laughed today. My sweet papoose actually laughed. Why did he laugh, you ask? Because he'd just finished peeing. On his daddy. Oh yeah, we are in for a wild ride with this child.

A Month Old

2009-03-20T19:46:00.003-05:00

Already! Ryder's already over a month old, really. One month and 4 days old. Growing like crazy, sleeping (except when we want him to), eating, pooting, pooping and peeing. Oh, and puking. We've entered the spit up phase of newborn life. I don't have a scale but I think he weighs in the 7lb range...maybe 7.5lbs or close to 8lbs even. He's still in newborn clothes but has outgrown his preemie outfits.

Just when the sleep deprivation was at it's worst, Ryder's aunt came to town. Tía Kim was a miracle worker with a gassy baby boy. She left after five days during which I don't recall doing much other than sleeping. Oh, and visiting The Salt Lick for lunch. Here's my boy with his first BBQ dinner. Too bad he chose breastmilk with a Similac chaser instead of that delicious pork rib.

This week we've had milestones. Ryder slept for more than two hours in a row overnight! He's also mastered the art of belching like a trucker. And one day, in the Newborn Trifecta, he managed to pee, puke and poop on me all in the space of a few short hours. The poo part was most amusing to Jaime but not so much to me, considering I was changing Ryder's diaper at the time and will now need to have my comforter dry cleaned. I'm washable, so it's all good.

And Baby Makes Three...

2009-03-10T16:03:00.005-05:00

Ryder Joseph in his first family photo. He weighed in at 5lbs, 14oz. None too happy to leave his warm & cozy womb, he loudly protested his entry. Trust me when I say he has rock & roll lungs. He might've practiced his pedal kicks in utero but this little drummer is destined to be a lead singer.

Ryder's original due date was March 15, 2009. My c-section was scheduled for February 18th. My body decided that waiting was no longer an option and jacked up my blood pressure, resulting in a birthdate of February 16, 2009. The emergency c-section was interesting and slightly scary but all's well that ends well. I didn't get to hold my son until 26 hours after he was born but I'm making up for that now, snuggling him as much as I want.

Ryder was born on his grandfather's birthday, a quirk of fate since we'd discussed my grandpa's name during the name-choosing-negotiations. My grandfather is Lonjino S. Contreras. We'd chosen Joseph for his middle name, just like Jaime's. It's a Dilworth family name and I wanted a family name of my own for our baby's first name. However, everyone agreed that Lonjino would become Lonnie and that a Lonjino Joseph in Texas would surely be called Lonnie Joe. And a guy named Lonnie Joe sounds like he's headed straight for the penitentiary. Definitely for a life of crime. Can't you hear it? "Lonnie Joe, where you headed with that rifle?". Or "Damnit, Lonnie Joe! I told you I'd help rob the gas station but I don't wanna cart off the ATM. It's so heavy it'll ruin my truck winch." Luckily I had the fateful dream that would bring the name Ryder into play.

I'm happy with my name change. I whisper to Ryder over and over that Mommy loves him. Daddy loves him, too. Life is good.

A Day in the Life

2009-02-15T10:13:00.005-06:00

Randomness about me today...

I'm sitting at home being a good, good girl on bedrest and thinking ahead. If all goes well, then on Wednesday we'll get to meet Ryder. I'm excited and nervous. As usual when I think too much, my brain starts working in weird ways and I came up with Ryder's personal ad:

Strong but sweet HWPD&DF male looking to find MF couple for mutual love, affection and life adventures. Anticipating much cuddle time, great meals and learning about this crazy but gorgeous world together. Likes: naps followed by tons of activity. Dislikes: sudden loud noises, green chile.

Jaime's out this morning, playing at mile 25.2 for the Austin Marathon. This is the first time I've missed being at the marathon in years. I was ultra-disappointed to stay home but my blood pressure was elevated this morning. I have to do what's best for my baby & my body right now. So...I caught a little on the news instead. The weather is awesome, possibly a little too warm for the runners. I wish I could be out in the sunshine, cheering them on. Umm...okay, I'll stop whining now.

I'm always proud of my runner friends when they tackle something like a 13.1 mile run or a full 26.2 mile marathon! I think it's incredible what your body can do even when your mind says "you think you're gonna do what??". For several years I've coached a walking group for the Cap 10K. Some of my walkers had never gone more than a mile before starting our training. It felt wonderful to know that on the day of the Cap 10K they walked 6.2 miles to a fantastic finish.

Yesterday was a great Valentine's Day. Jaime surprised me with a beautiful flowering cyclamen and a wonderful meal. The man who can't cook whipped up a surf & turf meal of steak, Jonah crab claws, pasta carbonara and garlic bread. It was delicious! Here's a picture of the feast:

Yummy! And in return, I gave Jaime his engagement ring. He'd told me on many occasions that it's unfair that women get a sweet piece of jewelry to show they're taken and men have to wait and wait until finally they get a band. And sometimes that band isn't much, other than plain gold. I made sure Jaime's ring is what he wanted, a tungsten carbide (translation: indestructible) ring with an intricate engraved design. The pictures I took don't do it justice, so here's one I ripped off from the manufacturer:

I hope everyone's having a great weekend. My plan now is to move to the couch and watch some silly & terrific chick flick.

I <3 Taste No Evil Muffin Company

2009-02-10T10:21:00.003-06:00

In a city fast falling in love with food-from-a-trailer, I've started to become somewhat jaded when a new one opens up off a busy street. And then I was introduced to Taste No Evil Muffins, a colorful trolley in front of Maria's Taco Xpress on S. Lamar.

Last week, a friend asked me to run over from downtown to the trolley at lunchtime, specifically because he'd gotten a tweet that the Blueberry Buttermilk Bliss muffins had been involved with a scandal that morning: an extra cup of blueberries had sneaked into the mix. Extra berries or not, that muffin rocked! Slightly crispy top, moist interior and full on packed with flavor.

Because I like to ensure my food recommendations are spot on, I went back again yesterday only to realize that the trolley's closed on Mondays. No worries, TNE is on my commute to work. Today's muffin was well worth the wait. I purchased a Chocolate Sinsations for myself and Stuffed Cream Cheese Coffee Cake one for my friend. These are the two most evil muffins on the menu, healthwise. Mine was loaded with divinely rich dark chocolate chips that were just on the edge of melt-y and perfectly complimented the dark chocolate sweet bread. Ultra-chocolatey without being overly sweet, it was nothing but seduction in a paper muffin cup.

The coffee cake muffin looked and smelled fabulous but the only description I can give you on flavor is the mumbled "deelishus" I heard my friend mutter as he wandered away with his treat.

Try it for yourselves. I guarantee you'll enjoy these muffins. And for you gluten free folks, there's even one for you, the Chocolate Almond GF muff. There's a lower fat Strawberry Citrus Sunrise Muffin heading the top of my "Must Try" list. TNE uses organic ingredients as much as possible, which I appreciate. And if you really want decadent, try a Muffin Top Ice Cream Sandwich, a dark chocolate muffin top sliced in two, gently embracing your choice of the following Amy's Ice Creams flavors: sweet cream, dark chocolate or coffee. I've died and gone to muffin heaven and it's name is Taste No Evil.

Butt Rot & Other Joys of Modified Bed Rest

2009-02-08T14:08:00.002-06:00

I'm still practicing modified bedrest when I'm not working. That means I spend all evenings and weekends on my couch or in bed. Now this may sound delightful to many, but after a while it grates on my last nerve. Or at least on my butt nerves. Yes, you can get butt rot, that numb & uncomfortable feeling you get on road trips just from the couch or bed. I think it comes on sooner than the normal 5 hour mark, though. It might have something to do with positioning, since my feet are supposed to be higher than my heart (not easy when you're pregnant with what must be a baby wildebeast). I've given up all dreams of being comfortable.

Sleep is elusive, something other people do. I wake up often to pee. Very often. Like every 1.5 hours or so. The days I can sleep for 3 hours in a row are wonderful, although then I wake up and realize that my body is cramped up like the Hunchback of Notre Dame because I didn't move a centimeter while unconscious. Which is really okay because...

It takes a LOT to roll over. Clutch the belly with one hand, wriggle away, push or pull with the free hand and finally, with a lot less finesse than Shamu coming out of the water and sliding across the loading dock thingy at a Sea World show, I've rolled over. Then I have to re-position the body pillow under my belly and between my knees, flip my pillow to the cool side, move my hair out from under my neck so I won't be trapped in a funny (funnier?) position and then try to go back to sleep. At this point I will realize that a) I haven't peed yet or b) I'm starving, c) I'm thirsty or d) all of the above. And that's not counting the times when I find myself completely wide awake. Awake enough to get up, do three loads of laundry and cook a meatloaf, if I was only cleared to do so.

Cooking. I love my babydaddy. He's learning to cook while I'm on bedrest. But I completely miss being able to stroll into the kitchen and whip up whatever I want to eat. I also dislike it that he's transitioned from lovah to butler. Seriously, I feel ridiculous asking him to refill my water. I must have never been super rich in a former life...I'm pretty sure I was a servant, not the one being served. And I want to be in the kitchen, creating delicious meals. His meals are yummy but I love, love, love to cook.

No matter how many cable channels you have, after a set amount of days watching television you will find that nothing holds your attention. New netflix movies can't get here fast enough. There's only so many times I can watch "Paranormal State" reruns.

Okay, bitch over. I am THRILLED that Ryder will be here in 10 days. I'm ready for the next step in my adventure, the land of sweet baby smell and soft, soft skin...of puke & poopy diapers and even the anticipated ultra sore nips from breastfeeding. I still look down and think "holy smokes, there's a baby in there!". It's amazing and humbling. But don't think that at some point in time when he's being a little stinker I'm not going to trot out stories of butt rot and insomnia, because I will. After all, I'm having a scheduled c-section a month early so it's not like I'll get to use the "I endured intensely painful labor for 34 hours to have you and here you are treating me this way?!!" line.

Things I See On My Way to Work

2009-02-06T12:28:00.005-06:00

You know, I see some normal stuff and then some weird things. I see good stuff & bad. I see a lot. I see dead people, too, but that's off topic for this post. Here are things I've seen on my commute in the past week. And let me just say I love Austin and all it's freak flag flying ways.

1. A goth-guy dressed all in black and sportin' a ginormous cherry red mohawk (seriously, at least 7" out from his skull) waiting for the bus. I see him often since he lives near my 'hood. I always admire his hair and then wonder when goth kids starting wearing emo skinny jeans?

2. A rock sculpture in the front yard of a house I pass every M-F. The sculpture is one that looks like a strong puff of air would blow it over but it stays upright anyway. One day I'll stop and take a picture of it. It's oddly asymmetrical with smaller rocks positioned under larger ones. Kind of like this one, but not so pretty:

3. A man peeing on the side of a music rental store. He was kind enough to turn mostly away from traffic. It was cold out, so I imagine his penis was teeny & shrunken.

4. Not one but two people dressed up like Uncle Sam in red, white & blue tuxedos with top hats trying to wave the morning rush hour traffic into the parking lot of a tax preparation business. Because having your employees dress up in what appears to be a desecrated American flag guarantees you'll get my business.

5. The Taste No Evil muffin trolley. Well, at least a side view from the street when I pass by. My gay ex-husband turned me on to these delicious treats this week, introducing me to the owner, Karisa. I have since spent each day this week resisting the urge to turn into the lot and get a muffin or a dozen. These are tastylicious and tantalizing must-have muffs. We went on a day when the Blueberry Buttermilk Bliss muffins "accidentally" had an extra load of blueberries added to the mix. I think it was all an unaccidental plot to coerce me into muffin love...and it worked. I've had no cupcake cravings since tasting Karisa's muffins. Here, ripped off from my ex's blog are pics of the trolley and a muffin. You have got to go by and have one or seven. My next choice will be Chocolate Sinsation...a dark chocolate delight that is rumored to be better than Democrats in the White House, sex on any given occasion and having someone else clean your home for a year.

And...don't be fooled by the pic, these are NOT small muffins. The angle doesn't show off the muffin very much but my pics I took with my crappy camera phone didn't come out at all, so this is what you get, peeps. Just remember I rarely ever steer anyone wrong with my food rec's...so hightail it over to TNE and savor the flavors.

8.5 Months Pregnant

2009-02-03T20:43:00.002-06:00

A few thoughts...

If another person tells me that my not sleeping more than 1.5 hours at a stretch is "preparation for when the baby wakes you up to eat" I may just lose my mind. (No offense to my friends who've said it). I realize it's true but hey, I just want to sleep longer. Last night I got in a 3 hour nap from midnight to 3am and thought it was the best thing since Bud Light was invented.
Speaking of adult bevies, the reason I slept for 3 hours last night was ultimately because of the 2 fingers of white wine Jaime gave me to drink at bedtime. My first cocktail since my Tom Jones Girls Gone Wild Gambling Adventure at the end of June 2008.
My baby boy has begun developing quite the personality in utero. So far he has made it clear that he does not tolerate hard sleeping surfaces at all. If my body pillow somehow un-wedges from beneath my belly while I'm asleep, he will kick continually at the bed until I wake up and replace it. Then it's back to sleep for him while I have to get up, pee, get back in bed and get comfortable before maybe falling asleep.
Trust me when I say that getting up & back into bed isn't easy when you're this pregnant. Turning over is a feat in itself.
I feel much like a thanksgiving day parade float, lumbering down the street no matter if I'm actually on a sidewalk or going down the office hallway. The good thing is, most people like parade floats. People in general are so much nicer to pregnant women than to anyone else.

Let's Change that Due Date, Okay?

2009-01-09T17:47:00.003-06:00

We only thought we were having a March baby. Due to my body's freakish ways with growing a baby, we anticipate a February baby. No, Ryder isn't oversized, but thanks for asking. I realize I am now the size of a small house. I prefer the term "cottage-proportioned". I really haven't gained much weight, a total of 15lbs so far. Sorry, back to the topic at hand.

With my placenta previa not wandering about like we'd hoped, the docs have decided it just isn't in the best interest of my health to allow me to enter my last month of pregnancy. There were vivid discussions of what could happen should I naturally enter labor and they all made it sound as if the prom scene in the movie Carrie was simply a small accident involving a sippy cup of cherry Kool-Aid. Hence the lovely photo with this posting.

Ryder is doing well, chilling out in utero and practicing his soccer kicks or grand jeté or bass drum pedal kicks (he likes variety). He's about 3.5lbs right now and has also learned to simultaenously elbow check me while kicking the opposite foot out. Talented, my boy.

My Spawn is an Early Morning Baby

2009-01-02T12:11:00.003-06:00

And he's also a late night baby. He doesn't seem much interested in mid-day. I was hoping he'd sync to my schedule but he appears to be truly both his mother & his father's child. Of course he's still in utero so who knows what he'll be like once he makes his appearance? Apparently he will know how to wake me up, as he did at 7am, kicking against the pillow wedged under my side. He doesn't care much (read: hates) anything confining or binding, such as my pants waistline or my seatbelt. I've tossed the notion of a sweet, swaddled papoose baby and am hoping to at least keep clothes on him.

I'm a little freaked out that I have only 10 weeks until I'm due. Ten. Two months and 2 weeks. Smoke 'em if ya got 'em cause I sure can't. Babydaddy is hoping for a great report next week at the January OB/gyn and high risk prenatalist appointments. We'll find out if my placenta wandered off anymore. I went from a fully centered over the cervix placenta previa to a 50% previa. For those of you reading this that are scratching your head and saying "huh?", here is a simple explanation: Previa is a fancy word for "the exit is blocked by the placenta, who apparently wants to keep you pregnant forever, but the doctors have this great surgical thing called a c-section that ensures you will not look like Mama Cass forever AND they get the scratch they need to book their next trip to the Azores".

But I digress. Jaime is excited about the impending birth but is, in reality, pulling for a c-section. He is completely freaked out by the idea of a regular, shoot 'em out the nether regions process. In fact, when he reads this blog post he will most likely turn a medium shade of puce and feel light headed. I'm not certain I'm thrilled with either method, but if I can have a regular birth I will, if only to discover the limits of my pain threshold. Yup, I want the option of an epidural & good drugs but only after I stubbornly hold out to see if I can do it all naturally and such. (The latter part of that sentence was typed in a redneck accent). If we find out that my previa has moved enough to even consider the possibility of a regular birth then I'm going to enroll in a birthing class that will teach me the stages of labor, breathing & relaxation techniques. I am Woman, Hear Me Roar. C'mon, sing it with me.

The Month of December, in Bullet Points

2008-12-29T12:59:00.004-06:00

It's been one busy month. Here is my synopsis, in bullet points:

Show Us Your Goods 2nd Annual December Shopstravaganza was a rousing success. Thank you, Brad Womack, for hosting us at Molotov Lounge. We raised cash & took in a sizeable amount of clothing donations for our local Dress For Success affiliate.
The baby is getting bigger. At my monthly weigh in, I found I've gained 14lbs over all. Ryder is a little over 2lbs of that. If his movements are any indication, we'll be raising either the next Baryshnikov or Neil Peart.
I didn't finish my Christmas shopping until the 24th. Ehh, what's new?
We were able to move into our new house, although not all the renovations are complete. Our friend & contractor, Keith, rocks! He is my 2nd favorite man in South ATX.
I missed yet another Red Dress Pub Run. I have a great excuse with Ryder but I was planning on being at one or two bars to snap pics. Kim was flying in that day but her plane was delayed due to weather so instead of gathering blackmail material I was at a late dinner with the family. I really wanted Kim to see the crazy Austin Duathletes decked out in their holiday hooker red. Next year!
We had a "future in-laws meet & greet" with Jaime's family and mine. Everyone had a great time and ignored the unpacked boxes, bags and partial flooring. We were gifted with black metal hoop firewood racks, a set of wooden tv trays and a family photo album with the family tree and copies of very old pictures of Jaime's relatives dating back to the late 1800's. Nifty!!
My sister scrubbed the nasty guest bathroom before the in-law soiree. To give you an idea of how dirty it was (including construction dust & grime), the next day she had sore abs, arms & glutes. I cheered her on and retired to the kitchen, barefoot & pregnant, to make several pans of enchiladas. Danny & Kela had dropped in so they were pressed into kitchen duty as well. Thanks!
The San Antonio familia threw a surprise baby shower for me. I was completely unaware that planning had been going on for months. It was awesome! And Jaime got to meet a little more of my family.
Santa brought Jaime a big, flat screen HDTV. I gave him a Wii. He's a happy boy, err, man. I scored huge with shiny & sharp knives for the kitchen, a new comforter set and front loading washer & dryer. Jaime also has a new Craftsman three tiered tool storage cabinet. On wheels. How cool is that? There's much more giftwise, but these were the large prezzies. We were spoiled this year, big time.
Jaime went hunting with my father today. I was worried this would be a "two go out but only one comes back" scenario but luckily my Dad likes Jaime a lot. Sadly, no bambi was killed today. They'll try again Friday morning to fill our freezer with future meals.

And now you're up to date. What's going on in your busy lives?

Editorial note: For whatever reason, the bullet points don't show up. Oh well. It's December in paragraphs instead.

Rush Right Out & Buy These Christmas CD's!

2008-12-03T15:16:00.003-06:00

Here's a list of Christmas music that is guaranteed to be much more interesting than the Muzak stylings so often heard during the holiday season. Better yet, I've linked them to their Amazon site for easy purchasing.

"Codependent Christmas" by Austin's own Therapy Sisters. Sweetly irreverent.
"Monster Ballads XMAS" is a perfect blend of Queensryche, Dokken, Twisted Sister and much more, an 80's hair band extravaganza of carols.
"Christmas Island" is Jimmy Buffett's take on holiday sound. Make a pitcher of margaritas and listen to this as you trim the tree.
Or if martinis, not ritas are your thing, give a listen to "Christmas With the Rat Pack".
"Christmas A Go Go" is on my 'must buy' list. This disc has Keith Richards singing "Run Rudolph Run"...that alone makes me want it. With artists from Brian Setzer to Soupy Sales and even the Ramones, you can't find a better mix.
"The Christmas Album" by Air Supply. Shut up, you know you love them.
"Ho Ho Ho" by Rupaul. His version of "All I Want For Christmas" is hysterical.
Cyndi Lauper's "Merry Christmas...Have a Nice Life!" is sheer genius. Buy it.
"Mr. Hankey's Christmas Classics". Degenerate but for South Park fans, it's a no brainer for what to play as background music while you're wrapping presents.
"Christmas Gumbo" will satisfy you with what you're craving, if what you're craving is a bluesy, zydeco and jazzed up Christmas. Among others, it has Art & Aaron Neville and Beausoleil...need I say more?

The Alphabet Meme

2008-11-25T14:42:00.004-06:00

All I have to do is pick my favorite film for each letter of the alphabet. Sounds easy enough!

Here are the rules according to Blog Cabins:

(Oh, real quick, rule 3 seems a bit tricky, but once you figure out not to use any films from the Star Wars, LOTR, Indiana Jones, or the Narnia series, you’ll be fine).

The Rules
1. Pick one film to represent each letter of the alphabet.

2. The letter “A” and the word “The” do not count as the beginning of a film’s title, unless the film is simply titled A or The, and I don’t know of any films with those titles.

3. Return of the Jedi belongs under “R,” not “S” as in Star Wars Episode IV: Return of the Jedi. This rule applies to all films in the original Star Wars trilogy; all that followed start with “S.” Similarly, Raiders of the Lost Ark belongs under “R,” not “I” as in Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark. Conversely, all films in the LOTR series belong under “L” and all films in the Chronicles of Narnia series belong under “C,” as that’s what those filmmakers called their films from the start. In other words, movies are stuck with the titles their owners gave them at the time of their theatrical release. Use your better judgement to apply the above rule to any series/films not mentioned.

4. Films that start with a number are filed under the first letter of their number’s word. 12 Monkeys would be filed under “T.”

5. Link back to Blog Cabins in your post so that I can eventually type “alphabet meme” into Google and come up #1, then make a post where I declare that I am the King of Google.

6. If you’re selected, you have to then select 5 more people.

Okay, let's see if I can make a list of 26 movies that I heart...
Amadeus
Breakfast Club, The
Color Purple, The
De-Lovely
Empire Strikes Back, The is a tie with Exorcist, The
Footloose
Gone With the Wind
Home at the End of the World, A
If Lucy Fell
Jesus Christ Superstar
King Kong (1976)
Lady & the Tramp, The
Maria Full of Grace
Nine to Five
Omen, The (original one, not the tatty 2006 remake)
Princess Bride, The
Quinceañera
Raiders of the Lost Ark
Star Wars ties with Silence of the Lambs, The
Ten Commandments, The (because God has to look just like Charlton Heston)
Under the Tuscan Sun
V for Vendetta
Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory
xXx
Young Frankenstein
Zodiac (with Jake Gyllenhaal)

Wow! Not all of those are exactly my utmost favorite. I just couldn't think of another movie name starting with a "V" or an "X". But I have to say, they're all movies I'll watch again and again.

I'm tagging everyone. Hah!

Questionable Christmas Decoration

2008-11-18T16:00:00.004-06:00

The American Family Association has an interesting Christmas decoration up for sale at their site. The AFA is a Tupelo, Mississippi based non-profit conservative Christian organization that fights against immorality in entertainment (they say Disney has pro-homosexual images in their animated movies) and against gay rights, among other things. Their website's store has much of their propaganda up for sale including this interesting outdoor decoration. Hmmmm. Looks more like a purchase you'd make from the KKK's website. Burning cross, anyone? For the love of Liberace, what were they thinking??!

Baby's Moving, Moving, Moving

2008-11-07T12:59:00.004-06:00

Little no-first-name-yet Baby (Something) Joseph Dilworth is moving around a lot these days. It's really odd, feeling this movement inside me where normally stuff wouldn't be making motion.

In the beginning it was light, delicate movements. I never felt the "bubbles" that some women describe or the "butterflies". The first few times I felt him move it was more of a quick, sudden sensation. I imagine it like this: you're gazing into a creek or shallow pond watching minnows. Suddenly, a minnow darts an inch one way, then the other, then stops. That "darting" is what I thought of when I felt my baby move. Uh huh. I did just compare my baby to a fish.

Now that I'm farther along (5 1/2 months) he is more like a large, involuntary muscle spasm. You know how it feels when your calf or thigh or some other muscle suddenly twitches? That's what it feels like a lot of the time. Only I'm having these muscle twitch feelings in a place where you don't have muscle. He's also perfected his total body roll, which, for a split second makes me feel motion sick. I encourage the tumbling action since he won't have room for that soon. The boy is growing!

I've learned that orange juice really pushes him into action. Totally hyperactive in utero. He better enjoy that o.j. now because this mama has learned her lesson. He won't be drinking any until he's a teenager. I'll utilize fresh squeezed juice as my version of a Red Bull. Anything to get him to cut the lawn. Daddy & I will be too old and infirm by then to navigate our property with dangerous equipment. ;-) That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Brain Candy...Escape Reality with My Top 5

2008-11-04T12:53:00.003-06:00

One of my favorite activities is reading. It's how I escape from reality. So yeah, I'm not really into non-fiction. Here are my top 5 books or series for fleeing from the weights of the world like bills, more bills and the never-ending Presidential vote discussions. What? You really think that it's over after today's vote? Hah. Keep reading. And then go find one of my top 5 and sink into a very different reality.

The Anita Blake series by Laurell K. Hamilton
The Sookie Stackhouse/Southern Vampires series by Charlaine Harris (currently shown on HBO as the series "True Blood".
The Harry Potter series. I really don't care that it's marketed toward children.
Kim Harrison's The Hollows series. Yes, there is a theme in my escapism. LOL
Wasted by Marya Hornbacher. It's an eating disorder memoir. What can I say except it helps me to see that my life has never been as screwed up as it could've become?

Got one for me? Post a comment.

After the Ultrasound News

2008-10-22T09:26:00.002-05:00

We'll be welcoming a baby boy to our household!

Pink or Blue??

2008-10-21T08:31:00.003-05:00

Today's the day! We find out if we're having a boy or a girl. I think girl. Jaime says boy. What do y'all think? I'm opening up comments to all guesses.

p.s. Do those bears look depressed or what?

Training Envy

2008-10-16T11:20:00.003-05:00

I'm working at a mini-expo at Austin Fit this weekend for their Rock 'n Roll & AT&T marathon training groups. I love to be around my runner & walker friends. The energy is amazing. I'm also heading up a water stop next week for the R&R training group's long run (21 miler!). I've been reading a training blog of a fellow Austinite who's getting prepped and psyched up for the Komen 60 miles in 3 days race. Exciting!!

And it's making me envious that I'm not training for something. Well, something other than cooking up a healthy baby. Realistically, I'm way too tired after working an 8 hour day to day anything but a few tasks around the house (laundry, dinner) and then head for bed. I wonder if twentysomething mama's to be are as tired as I am or if this is a byproduct of being "advanced maternal age"?

I rubbed elbows with runners, duathletes, triathletes (even some Ironman triathletes) and bootcampers last night at Bettysport's anniversary happy hour. I really love the Austin athletic community. They're so...nice. As a girl who's fought the chub all her fricken life I'll admit that my opinion of healthy, athletic types wasn't always a good one. When you're the last one chosen for a team in P.E. class throughout your formative 12 years of schoolin' you just don't feel all warm & fuzzy about athletes. Lucky me, when I started my late-in-life quest to join the ranks of runners and such I was profoundly grateful to find that the experienced athletic community in Austin is supportive and friendly and warm to beginners. (Besides, we make y'all look even better when we run slow and all ungraceful-like.)

But all this exposure to the fit & happy crowd has really started me thinking about my post-baby goals. You know, the ones aside from breastfeeding, healthy baby checkups, learning how to use cloth diapers if I choose and all that fun OMG we're really parents stuff. I know that I'll be itching to get back to my neverending goal of shaping up. I need to look at fun races in the fall and then set up a training schedule that won't leave me feeling overwhelmed. After all, I will be a new mom.

Do Not Insult The Pregnant Chick

2008-10-09T13:28:00.004-05:00

I have now had the "are you sure you aren't carrying twins" insult topped by something even more offensive. It's when someone who sees you every flippin' business day tells you "I can't even tell you're pregnant".

Thanks for that. I needed to hear that when I'm not carrying a child I still look like a pregnant woman. My belly always sticks out and up. I always wanted to know that even though I've graduated to elastic topped pants with waistbands that come up to your belly button and sometimes higher I really don't look any differently than I always do.

:::sigh:::

The L Word

2008-10-09T12:49:00.004-05:00

No, not that one. Although y'all know I do love me some lesbian high drama television. I'm talking about love. Yeah, that L word. I was driving to my office this morning after dropping my life partner off at work and thinking about our relationship. Just yesterday I was telling someone I hadn't seen in a few months that yes, I'm engaged and no, it's not that I've been training for competitive doughnut eating, I am in fact pregnant. Yes, I work fast. It wasn't that long ago that my friends were lending a sympathetic ear to me crying in my beer. (Or as sympathetic as possible and then when they were over it they'd say "What about Jaime? Why won't you go out with him?". Yeah, you know who you are.)

I used to long for the kind of romance where a guy composes a love song about how infinitely wonderful you are and releases it publicly, like that Tal Bachman song. Or maybe I'd land a man who would at least sing that song to me. Well I found a singer who writes his own material but so far there's been no love song to me, about me, for me. Although friends will remember my vivid dream (nightmare?) that Jaime proposed to me in the middle of a gig and then jumped back up onstage and sang "Wang Dang Sweet Poontang" to me. A song about a teenage hooker. Thank goodness in real life there was no Nugent before, during or after the proposal.

After much introspection I have come to the realization that it isn't about someone writing a song that shows the world how they feel about me. I don't need the news broadcast to the universe. I've found that it is personal (as I write this in a public blog, how ironic!). It's about being valued and appreciated, being told and shown that I am loved. And I get that, every day. I don't take it for granted, either. I reciprocate equally, so that Jaime knows that he is loved. There is no shortage of sweet words in our home. Even on days when neither of us are feeling particularly loving we still confirm it verbally to the other...and it makes almost everything all right. What it doesn't make right it at least makes tolerable. That, my friends, is what makes the world go 'round.

"Wang dang, what a sweet poontang / a shakin' my thang as a rang-a-dang-dang in the bell"

~Ted Nugent~

My Babydaddy's A Rockstar

2008-10-08T13:27:00.006-05:00

Not only do I think he's supremely talented but so do music industry folks. Jaime's band SuperCrash is slated to be one of the openers for Great White at this week's Gonzalez Thunder Rally. It's bound to be a fun weekend with great rock & roll, food and fun. Bret Michaels will be there on Saturday as part of his Rock of Love Tour.

It won't be all music all the time. Saturday has biker games including a "race" where the slowest to finish wins. Must be pretty hard to ride slowly on a bike and not lay it down. There's a comptetitive bike build off and even a shopping area with vendors selling everything from jewelry to handmade leather goods. My friend Leigh of Leighelena will be there with her wonderful enamel jewelry selection. I'll be coming home with some new pretty gift for me, guaranteed.

Come out and have fun with me this weekend at the rally. Tickets are available through Ticketmaster and are inexpensive considering you've got some huge acts along with many more great Central Texas rock & roll bands. There's even VIP packages available that include backstage passes, private restroom facilities and food. What's not to love?

Fun Times in Knocked Up Land

2008-10-02T20:14:00.003-05:00

Let's make this quick. Here's what I've learned lately and what those damn baby books don't really address:

1. You pretty much can't take any meds other than your prenatals, Benadryl and Tylenol. So when Austin allergies bash you upside down and back again, you are left with a throbbing 10lb head full of snot and no functional method of symptom relief. A date with my neti pot helps, but only for about an hour.

2. Hormones. I've never been bitchy. Really. My friends will back me on this. I've always had a laid back attitude and unless seriously provoked, I'm not a hostile woman. Until now. I am soooo full of love and tenderness and joy at the budding life within that if you cut me off on the interstate and then slow down so that I have to slam on my brakes just know that it's only because of the sweet little spawn inside me that I don't DRIVE MY FRICKEN SUV OVER YOUR UNINSURED ASS. Granted, it's a very small SUV but I guarantee that it will snap you out of your hip hop induced coma and make you at least throw the bud you're smoking out before the cops arrive. Because oh yes, there will be cops. And that, my friends, is the hormones just for driving. There's also the raging hormones for stupid people at the grocery store, the asshats at ACL who kept bumping into my baby belly (yeah, I'm showin') and the dizzybizzys who have the nerve to ask me "Are you sure you're not having twins?" No, you dumbass, I am not and have never been a skinny chick. When a big girl gets knocked up we are going to look bigger faster than you anorexic little stickgirls. Thanks for asking. I feel like the Goodyear blimp and I've just entered my 2nd trimester. Wait a few months and I'll completely eclipse your teeny tiny bobble head atop your bulimia-ravaged body. Oh wait, I need a toothpick...perhaps you could be so kind as to lend me your arm?

3. Your uterus and growing placenta is in close proximity to your bladder. Very close. So close that when you have severe allergies and you cough hard, you pee. And if you sneeze, you pee more. It is just plain wrong that I am pregnant and still utilizing feminine hygeine products, even more so that I'm using them like a flippin' diaper. It's embarrassing but it's happened so often this week that I'm beyond my initial self-disgust and sharing this with God and everyone.

4. Saving the worst for last...most of you know I love to cook. I adore cooking shows. I love to plan out and create gourmet meals. Well, during pregnancy some odd things can happen. My morning sickness went away and I was happy because I couldn't face cooking odors for several months without yakking. Now it's worse. I have a complete revulsion for raw beef, pork, fish and fowl. I can barely look at it in the grocery store without getting all over grossed out. I tried to make pork stir fry and was so revolted when I was slices up the raw meat that I just couldn't eat dinner. It's irrational and I don't like it but I don't have any control over it. I can certainly eat if it's placed in front of me, already cooked. I just can't deal with the raw stuff. I'm hoping this goes away in time. I'm sick of eating out, tired of frozen meals and completely over fast food. I want homecooked goodness. And I want it without feeling as if I'm going to puke.

5. Beer aromatherapy works. I can't drink it but a good sniff is deeply satisfying.

Addicted to Project Runway

2008-08-28T15:49:00.005-05:00

It's true. I'm addicted to Project Runway. Which is amusing because I'm a fashion mess. However poorly dressed I may be, at least I'm fairly easy to get along with and play nicely with others. And that's a trait that many of the designers don't possess.

Spoiler Alert!! If you haven't watched your Tivo'd or DVR'd episode for this week, do not read any further. You will find out who won and who lost and you'll be angry at me. So please, stop reading, go back to work or doing whatever it is that you may otherwise be doing. Thank you!

In this week's episode we had all the Type A designers in total twisted panty mode, flipping out over trying to make an outfit out of things used to make Saturn cars. It actually turned out quite well for most of them. A few were downright spectacular, including the winning dress and a fabulous 60's style coat dress. What do you think of Leanne's winning black car seat leather dress with the neckline edged in fringed seatbelt? I think it rocks!

Anyway, each week I'm glued to the television, laughing over the drama and eye rolling the horrible designs. As if I could do better. I'm just happy that Suede finally stopped referring to himself in the third person (it's true! Last night he said "I"). And I'm waiting for the day when Kenley's true colors are revealed to all. She's the cutie pie all American retro girl next door who looks sweet as gumdrops and Southern tea. Hah! I predict she's the most cut throat of them all, who will laugh happily at any signs of backstabbing.

I was happy that Keith went home this week. He has not shown much diversity (a key word this season) although he did at least have more imagination than Daniel (kicked off last week). Next up is Stella, although she may surprise me and outlast Blayne. Stella strikes me as more hungry for this than tanorexic Blayne, so she may pull off something magnificent next week. Of course that would be after she spends the weekend with a few bottles of Jack, chainsmoking and talking to her boyfriend on the phone. Her boyfriend who's nicknamed "Ratbone". I love this show.

1st Trimester Schoolin': The Cliff Notes

2008-08-26T09:04:00.003-05:00

I've learned a few things in my first trimester and I thought I'd pass them on to other mom-wanna-be's and those women who've just found out they're with child. Here's my Cliff Notes version of a first trimester handbook.

No matter what, someone will automatically volunteer to throw you a baby shower upon hearing your news. Do not, I repeat, do not allow them to buy a cake shaped like a pregnant woman's tummy. The idea of cutting into your placenta, uterus and baby may be cutesy to them but trust me when I say it's disgusting.
Morning sickness is most unusual. You will be completely queasy and starving at the same time. Seconds after puking, the idea of eating mac 'n cheese sounds marvelous. Think of it as renting your food.
You will start to show well before the baby books say you will. When you read "at this point in your pregnancy, your waistlines may start to feel tight and you might feel bloated or a fullness in your abdomen" it really means "you're pooching out, all your pants are too tight so go ahead and buy those comfy maternity clothes".
You will feel fat. So why not buy maternity clothes so that you can be fat in the only way it's celebrated in the U.S.A.? Seriously, this is the only time someone will coo at you "oh, your face is getting fuller" and think that it's beautiful. Enjoy it.
As your uterus grows, it presses on your bladder. You'll read about how in the third trimester you've gotta pee all the time. Nonsense! It starts immediately. And, if you have bad allergies, think about wearing a panty liner. Yes, sneezing=sudden increased pressure on bladder. Uh huh. Trust me on this one. Be prepared. I wake up at midnight and 3 am for bathroom breaks. If you have a messy bedroom, clear a path for those half asleep stumblings from bed to toliet.
Food is a whole 'nother piece of business. Foods you love will suddenly revolt you. Foods you avoided will entice you. I haven't been able to cook because raw foods send me running for the bathroom. Cooking smells are guaranteed to induce vomiting. And odd cravings pop up. Suddenly, fish sticks sound fabulous for dinner, despite the fact you haven't eaten them since you were a teen.
Libido. You may or may not have one. If you had one prior to pregnancy, it might disappear. If you didn't have one you may be shocked to discover your latent nymphomania.
Hormones are hell on your face and emotions. Not only will you look like a 9th grader who needs to visit the dermatologist, you will feel like one. All those swirling emotions are lurking just under the surface, ready to erupt into tears or bitchiness or sudden co-dependent clinginess (or see above, nymphomania).

That's all I've got for now. I'm sure I'll have many more revelations to share as the months go by.

Beware the Ides of March

2008-08-11T15:27:00.002-05:00

Because apparently somewhere around March 15th, 2009 is when I'm going to start buying diapers and selling a kidney on the black market in trade for a lifetime supply of Valium for Jaime. Yes, it's true. I found out a week before I turned 41 that we're expecting.

Expecting. "Expecting" is such a nice term. It doesn't quite describe the feelings I've had in the last weeks. It's more like I'm wandering around, in partial disbelief that there is something! happening! inside me! and I'm half asleep all day with a chest so sore I'd swear someone had torn my boobs off and the slightest whiff of a strong odor has me gagging. Goodbye, coffee. Vodka, I know you'll be there in time. Thanks for waiting.

After a few minor freak outs and some tears (mine, not Jaime's) we are both pretty darn excited about this crazy turn of events. We've gone over baby names, totally prematurely, since we have no clue yet if it's a boy or a girl. We do know there is only one. Jaime made sure my doctor checked at the first visit and again at the second visit, just in case. If he comes to the third visit, he'll probably ask again in the unlikely event that a miracle has occurred and we made another somehow.

So...baby name choices are being tossed around. At the same time, we're house hunting. Life just doesn't slow down and let you catch up. You gotta jump on the carousel while it's still moving so you can get the best seat, right?

My Summer Vacation In Pictures

2008-06-26T17:06:00.008-05:00

Let's see if I can just give you the pictorial:

Colter Bay Village Marina, Grand Teton N.P.

Elk on roadside in Yellowstone N.P.

One of the rivers in Yellowstone...maybe the Snake River? Can't recall.

Jaime fighting a bear. Don't know why this picture is tiny.

Beautiful trees in GTNP

Shelby, Adam, Jaime, me & Mike at thermal area, probably Biscuit Basin. Kim was taking the picture. Spectacular colors in thermal pool. Jaime & I at Old Faithful Inn, where it snowed like crazy.

Our favorite restaurant was the Leek's Marina pizza place in GTNP. Fantastic thin crust pizza and cold, cold beer on tap.

They also had some kickin' Grand Teton Garlic Bread...so good. It has melted mozzarella inside it.

In addition to the otters, marmot, fox, moose baby and various other animals we also saw a grizzly. We were leaving in the middle of a snowstorm to come back home. He was on the side of the road...the tiny road...the only road into and out of Colter Bay Village. Believe it or not, incredibly stupid (or suicidal) tourists were out of their cars and within a few yards of this bear, snapping away. I was hoping that the picture after this one could be of a mauling but alas, the bear, who did get angry, simply wandered off. I guess he doesn't like the taste of idiots.

And saving the very best for last, here is what happens when you put me and Jaime on a snowy balcony overlooking Old Faithful. We were in a thundersnow waiting for OF to erupt, hoping to be able to see it through the rapidly falling snowflakes when...

Yes, he did. And yes, I said yes. Nope, we don't know when. But yes, we'll let you know.

It was an amazing vacation!

Am I Crazy? Really?? Certifiable?

2008-05-29T23:11:00.002-05:00

The question you've all asked yourself over the years has been answered. Yes, I am crazy. I rode a whopping 7 miles on my still new road bike last weekend...and then signed up for the MS150 Bike to the Beach in October.

Holy crap. I've got a lot of training to do. I'm excited and terrified. I'm doing this as a challenge to myself, to give my lazy butt something to work toward. I'm also doing this because Multiple Sclerosis is a disease that should have more research funding, more educational awareness and above all, should be held up as an example of a long term illness that affects so many in our nation.

And I'm going to do my part by biking from San Antonio to Corpus Christi. It scares me to even write it down. It's real and now I have to get ready. Look out, Corpus, here I come!

Becoming a Rocker Girl

2008-05-20T11:28:00.004-05:00

I never thought I'd be a rock & roll girl. I guess I always thought I was too much of a bookworm or had more of an appreciation for refined atmosphere. But as my life with Jaime progresses I'm finding out that there was a hard rockin' chica inside me all along.

Although some nights I'd rather be with my girlfriends sipping prosecco in a wine bar somewhere (preferably one that sells slivers of fancy cheese and smoked almonds and such) I often find myself in a grubby bar watching SuperCrash set up for a show. It's almost always some place that has Lone Star tallboys in a can and a shot special involving gelatin but sometimes it's a bar with a decent variety of beers on tap and the specials involve whisky shooters served neat.

Such was the case on Saturday night, when the S'Crash boys rocked out at Hanover's in Pflugerville. It was my second weekend in a row at Hangover's, err, Hanover's. I'd gone to a Humiliator's gig the week prior. I like that the bar has ample parking and a large stage. The sound is good and loud enough to please metal bands, as evidenced by my need to buy earplugs.

It was at this week's show, however that I realized I had become a rocker girl and didn't even know it. Sure, I recognize band members and their significant others when we run into each other at Spec's (hi, Ken!) and I've gone to backyard BBQ's only to realize half the Red River world was also attending but I hadn't really felt like I was a genuine member of the scene.

That all changed on Saturday night during the Humi's show when I spied a flyer taped to a speaker. The flyer was a photo of me and the Humi's bassist from the week before and well, what can I say except a picture tells a thousand words.

Many thanks to Rachel for the photo--you RAWK! And Jeff, much love, much love. And if I ever need to take a rest on a picnic table bench you have my permission to snap silly pictures of me.

Moving, Moving, Moving

2008-05-11T10:51:00.003-05:00

Yeah, so I moved last week. It was unexpected. I found out during the last week of April that we needed to be out of our house by the end of May. Then on the first Saturday of May I found out that we had to be out of the house in 4 days. I'm not even going to try to explain why.

So...with nothing packed at all, Jaime and I moved my entire world of possessions in a day and a half. I've stuffed full his storage room, formerly large enough to house a third world country family including both sets of grandparents. I'm now at my new digs in Tom & Jaime's house.

What did I learn? I am a firm believer that if you have the money to pay a company to come and pack you up and move your stuff you should totally do it. I have now come to understand that packing under the influence of alcohol is to be avoided. (If anyone finds my dirty laundry please let me know.) You may have the world's best relationship but packing and moving will test it. Especially when one has had adult beverages and the other has not. And lastly, that whole idea that you can reward your friends with a pizza and a 12 pack just doesn't apply to late 30's, early 40's adults. Buy a keg and make it several pizzas. Side note to friends: there will be a moving and keg party sometime this year.

Yes, my current digs are temporary. Jaime and I are planning to move into our own home later this year. Can you believe it? This wonderful man is the same one all of you had to nag at me to date and here I am planning to make things way permanent. Hindsight is 20/20....one of y'all should've bashed me in the head with a skillet and told me to wake up. I could've been 18 months into a great relationship instead of just at a year.

But I digress. Anyway, the move is done for now. I'm getting settled in to life with two new male houesemates. Goodbye Darren & David, hello Tom & Jaime! I've traded the Pug o'Love for a chocolate lab. One snorts and the other slobbers. They're both insanely adorable.

Annie Oakley Has Nothin' on Me

2008-04-10T14:49:00.003-05:00

I did some target practice this weekend, out on my family's land near Burnet. My father bought a nifty iron contraption that has three targets hanging from it. When your bullet hits the target, it spins it around the bar. Fun, huh? But what happens when you hit it at the spot where it's welded and then hit it a few more times at the bottom? This:

Ahh, fun times. It's nice to know my little .22 Ruger pistol is capable. And now I need to kill the remaining two targets so we can get a new one!

I Love Quiche

2008-04-10T14:39:00.006-05:00

It's true. I think it started when I used to sing along with the B-52's to their Quiche Lorraine song. "Quiche Lapoodle is her name!" I would sing the "quiche, quiche lorraine" part and while I knew quiche was a type of food I wasn't certain what it really was. Years later, I tasted quiche and fell in love. Now on each Friday at work a group of my co-workers and I participate in a “breakfast club”, taking turns bringing food for our group. After a few months, it’s easy to tire of the usual bagels, doughnuts and breakfast tacos. Last week was my turn and I decided to make quiche. I mulled it over and decided upon a spinach, tomato and mozzarella quiche for a vegetarian option. I’d been wanting to make a caramelized onion, bacon and gruyere quiche, so that settled it.

Thursday night after work I stopped by my neighborhood grocery store for supplies. Unfortunately for me, my grocery store is a smaller version of one of the two predominant chain stores in town. While they do carry a nice selection of ethnic foods such as fresh nopales and pandulce, they don’t have much else that is anything other than basic foods. I can get queso fresco and panela but other than a bag of shredded Swiss there was no gruyere to be found. While regular American Swiss is an okay substitute, it’s just that, okay. Gruyere gives this quiche a much more intense depth of flavor, so buy it if you have the choice.

Caramelizing onions takes patience. First I heated two tablespoons of olive oil in a deep, wide pan over medium heat. Next, I layered thinly sliced Texas 1015 sweet onions into the pan. Leaving the temp at medium, I used a spatula to turn the onions as the bottom layer began to soften. After 5 minutes, I lowered the heat to low-medium. During the next 40 minutes I turned the onions about every 10 minutes or so, just to ensure even cooking. They will slowly turn golden as their flavor becomes smoky sweet. Some people add sugar or balsamic vinegar to the onions at the end of their cooking time. I’ve never found the need to do so with Texas 1015 onions or any variety of sweet onions such as Vidalia or Walla Walla.

While the onions caramelized, I prepared my other ingredients, thick slices of tomato, thawing out frozen spinach and squeezing as much moisture out as possible, frying bacon and of course, whipping up the egg mixture. When it comes to quiche, I don’t try to use lower fat substitutes. I’m not planning to eat an entire quiche, just a slice, so I don’t use anything but heavy cream and whole milk in my egg mix. You can play around with the amounts but the richness in flavor is worth it to me.

I baked the spinach quiche first, layering the ingredients as evenly as possible before pouring the egg mixture. I usually pour slowly and rotate my pan as I go so that the liquid fills in evenly as well.

I did not make my own pastry crust, but I can now vouch for Mrs. Smith’s frozen deep dish pie crust. I followed the directions on the label and did not pre-bake it. I did keep it frozen up to the point when I was filling it. As an afterthought I probably will line the edges with a foil ring to keep it from over-browning but even though it was dark brown it did not taste burnt.
After the onions were golden, glistening and oh so deliciously done, I filled the second pie crust.

Smoky thick cut bacon goes well with the onions but so does diced ham and cubed cooked chicken. I use what I have on hand when I make quiche. Consequently, I’ve had some unusual yet tasty combinations over the years. And despite the “real men don’t eat quiche” yarn, once I pulled the onion and bacon creation out of the oven, my boyfriend was hovering with a plate and a fork.
I’m including the recipe for the onion and bacon quiche. If you’d like the spinach and tomato recipe, feel free to e-mail me.

Caramelized Onion & Bacon Quiche
6 eggs
2/3 cup heavy cream
1 cup whole milk
¼ tsp. ground nutmeg, plus more for sprinkling
¼ tsp. salt
Several grinds of pepper, between ¼ to ½ tsp.
¼ tsp. garlic powder
8 oz. shredded gruyere or other swiss-type cheese
2 Texas 1015 onions, sliced thinly and rings separated
2 tb. olive oil
4 slices cooked thick cut bacon, crumbled
1 deep dish pie crust

In a deep, wide heavy pan, slowly caramelize onions in the olive oil until golden brown. Preheat oven to 425º. In a medium sized mixing bowl, whisk together the eggs, cream and milk. Once blended, add spices and whisk to distribute. Place frozen pie crust on a baking sheet. Layer cheese, bacon and onions evenly in crust. Carefully pour egg mixture into pie pan, until mixture is a ¼” from top of crust. You may have leftover egg mix (great for making mini crust-less quiches in buttered ramekins). Lightly sprinkle the top of the quiche with nutmeg, swirling with a fingertip any large spots of spice. Bake until golden brown and completely set. You may want to insert a sharp thin knife or cake tester into the middle to ensure it is done. If it comes out clean, remove and cool for 5 minutes before serving. When reheating later in a microwave, less than a minute at full power will heat a serving. Makes 8 servings.

Spicy Black Bean Burger Addiction

2008-03-26T20:32:00.002-05:00

I admit it, I love Morningstar Farm's Spicy Black Bean Veggie Burgers. That said, I'm now wondering if I can make a better tasting black bean burger at home. I did find a recipe that sounds good, on about.com in a section that listed their top veggie burger recipes. I'll have to actually make them to find out if they are tasty, but for now, here is the recipe along with a link to where I found it. This recipe isn't spicy but you know me, I'm going to tweak it to my taste.

Black Bean Burgers

INGREDIENTS:
1/2 onion, diced
1 can black beans
1/2 cup flour
2 slices bread, crumbled
1 tsp garlic powder
1 tsp onion powder
1/2 tsp seasoned salt
salt and pepper to taste
oil for frying

PREPARATION:
Sautee the onions till soft, about 3-5 minutes.
In a large bowl, mash the beans until almost smooth. Add sauteed onions and the rest of the ingredients, except the oil, adding the flour a few tablespoons at a time to combine well.

Mixture will be thick. Form bean mixture into patties, approximately ½ inch thick and fry patties in a small amount of oil until slightly firm. Make veggie burgers and enjoy!

Nutrition Information:
Servings: 6
Calories per serving: 294
Calories from Fat: 11
Total Fat: 1.2g
Cholesterol: 0mg
Sodium: 25mg
Total Carbohydrates: 55.3g
Dietary Fiber:11.3g, 45% RDA
Protein: 16.8g
Vitamin A 0%, Vitamin C 1%, Calcium 10%, Iron 23%, based on a 2000 calorie diet

OKC Teen's Letter to Sally Kern

2008-03-14T22:56:00.004-05:00

I am still all worked up about Sally Kerns. In the vernacular of the state I grew up in, I'm not only "all het up" I also have "a case of the mean reds". But no matter how angry I am that Sally Kern is a bigot who lives with her fears by pointing the finger of hate toward the groups she's scared of, I can't be half as eloquent in expressing myself as a teenager named Tucker.

I happened by chance upon Tucker's letter to Kern. Tucker is a teenager who was robbed of his mother by the Murrah bombing in Oklahoma City. Some of you may know that my mother's best friend, Vera, had a niece who died in the bombing. Baylee was one year and one day old on the morning of the bombing. She was a beautiful girl but the only way I remember her now is in that infamous picture where she is cradled in a firefighter's arms. The photographer, Charles Porter, snapped the picture of firefighter Chris Fields as he carried Baylee, dying, out of the rubble.

It's hard to believe that there are some in America who think that terrorists can only be Muslim and that homosexuals are a larger threat than terrorists. Such skewed beliefs are more of a threat to society's downfall than any perceived morality issue. Sally Kern, the Republican representative from Oklahoma City, has attested to these beliefs.

Tucker, whose mother was killed in the same bombing as Baylee, wrote an incredible letter and tried to deliver it to Kern. He was unable to give it to her. The Oklahoma highway patrol intervened and stopped him from delivering it. Here is a link to Tucker's letter, as reported in not THAT different, with citations from the News9.com story about Kern.

Tucker's letter is amazing, such insight into pain and such empathy for the pain of others. I'm grateful and appreciative that there are Tuckers in this world, who can look beyond the easy blame and find the root of the problem.

I urge you to check out Jami's blog at not THAT different. But if you're not wanting to navigate away just yet, here is Tucker's letter. Thank you Jami, for blogging about Tucker and his letter, or I'd have never known.

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From comment page 112 of the News9 story, here is the letter. At the time of this posting, there are 136 pages of comments to the story.

Rep Kern:

On April 19, 1995, in Oklahoma City a terrorist detonated a bomb that killed my mother and 167 others. 19 children died that day. Had I not had the chicken pox that day, the body count would've likely have included one more. Over 800 other Oklahomans were injured that day and many of those still suffer through their permanent wounds.

That terrorist was neither a homosexual or was he involved in Islam. He was an extremist Christian forcing his views through a body count. He held his beliefs and made those who didn't live up to them pay with their lives.

As you were not a resident of Oklahoma on that day, it could be explained why you so carelessly chose words saying that the homosexual agenda is worst than terrorism. I can most certainly tell you through my own experience that is not true. I am sure there are many people in your voting district that laid a loved one to death after the terrorist attack on Oklahoma City. I kind of doubt you'll find one of them that will agree with you.

I was five years old when my mother died. I remember what a beautiful, wise, and remarkable woman she was. I miss her. Your harsh words and misguided beliefs brought me to tears, because you told me that my mother's killer was a better person than a group of people that are seeking safety and tolerance for themselves. As someone left motherless and victimized by terrorists, I say to you very clearly you are absolutely wrong.

You represent a district in Oklahoma City and you very coldly express a lack of love, sympathy or understanding for what they've been through. Can I ask if you might have chosen wiser words were you a real Oklahoman that was here to share the suffering with Oklahoma City? Might your heart be a bit less cold had you been around to see the small bodies of children being pulled out of rubble and carried away by weeping firemen?

I've spent 12 years in Oklahoma public schools and never once have I had anyone try to force a gay agenda on me. I have seen, however, many gay students beat up and there's never a day in school that has went by when I haven't heard the word **** slung at someone. I've been called gay slurs many times and they hurt and I am not even gay so I can just imagine how a real gay person feels. You were a school teacher and you have seen those things too. How could you care so little about the suffering of some of your students?

Let me tell you the result of your words in my school. Every openly gay and suspected gay in the school were having to walk together Monday for protection. They looked scared. They've already experienced enough hate and now your words gave other students even more motivation to sneer at them and call them names. Afterall, you are a teacher and a lawmaker, many young people have taken your words to heart. That happens when you assume a role of responsibility in your community. I seriously think before this week ends that some kids here will be going home bruised and bloody because of what you said.

I have not had a mother for nearly 13 years now and wonder if there were fewer people like you around, people with more love and tolerance in their hearts instead of strife, if my mom would be here to watch me graduate from high school this spring. Now she won't be there. So I'll be packing my things and leaving Oklahoma to go to college elsewhere and one day be a writer and I have no intentions to ever return here. I have no doubt that people like you will incite crazy people to build more bombs and kill more people again. I don't want to be here for that. I just can't go through that again.

You may just see me as a kid, but let me try to teach you something. The old saying is sticks and stones will break your bones, but words will never hurt you. Well, your words hurt me. Your words disrespected the memory of my mom. Your words can cause others to pick up sticks and stones and hurt others.

Homophobe Sally Kern Owes Gays an Apology

2008-03-13T10:44:00.002-05:00

Remember when your parents taught you the saying "Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me"? And remember when you found out that it isn't quite true, that words do hurt and sometimes they cut deeply?

The homosexual population in the nation is still reeling from Oklahoma Representative Sally Kern's remarks last week. She called homosexuals "worse than terrorists" and claimed that 'Mo's are targeting two year olds in schools. For what? Improper Garanimal-izing of their outfit that day?

The woman believes that as a nation we have less to fear from religious zealot terrorists than we do from homosexuals. Apparently our nation is headed for destruction because Sally says that historically, societies that embrace homosexuality only last for a few decades. Correct me if I'm wrong, but the first steps toward becoming an embraced part of American society started in 1969. We now have gay celebs, lauded homo musicians, even *gasp* political leaders with same sex partners. Get to the bomb shelter, Bessie, the world is a'ending! I mean, really, Sally Kern is a fine upstanding church going woman, she wouldn't spout out lies and encourage fear and hatred, would she? After all, she is a Baptist!

I would be okay with Kern if she had just said "I don't believe it is morally right for two people of the same sex to have a physical, romantic relationship". We are all entitled to our own opinion. But she didn't do that. She just blasted away with untruths passed off as gospel.

I can't help but take Kern's words personally. It was in her hometown of Oklahoma City that I experienced gaybashing. If you've never run from a pickup truck full of drunk rednecks screaming "Ahm gonna git you, faggot!" then you've obviously never patronized gay bars in OKC. The gay community treated it as if it were a game, you know, how many times can you outrun the homophobes in a single weekend? But honestly, there were nights I thought they'd catch us and those baseball bats and swinging chains were mighty scary.

I emailed a letter to Sally Kern but have had no response. I sent it to her office, where I'm certain an aide is in control of sifting through her email. I heard she's had death threats, which is ridiculous. She doesn't need to die. She needs to learn. To grow. To move beyond her baseless hatred and beyond the lies she is clinging to as truth. Oh, yes, she did respond to the negative press and stated that she never said anything untrue. Because homos target 2 year olds and are a larger threat than Al Qaeda. She is embracing her own destructive reality, one that encourages others to believe that gays are second class citizens and evil creatures. She's sending a message to those rednecks I ran from that says loud and clear they are doing the right thing, crushing the homosexual threat.

If you'd like to email Sally Kern, her office address is sallykern@okhouse.gov.

My Recent Life, The Cliff Notes Version

2008-02-26T20:56:00.003-06:00

What've I been doing with my time since fall? Here's a little glimpse into my life, the Cliff Notes version.

Show Us Your Goods event at The Marq. Shopping and cocktails! It was our inaugural show & fundraiser at the start of the Christmas shopping season. Who are we? Next bullet point!

3 Dames Productions. I've teamed up with my friends Chel and Leigh and we've been busy promoting locally owned businesses with our shows. Mixing, mingling and shopping is always fun!

Helping support my boyfriend's band. SuperCrash was recently named one of Austin's favorite rock bands.

Lost 8.5" with the help of Austin Adventure Bootcamp, the best fitness program in town. I am losing weight, gaining muscle and increasing my endurance, thanks to my great instructor and my camp friends. Yes, I really have lost eight and a half inches overall...in less than a month. I'm on my second camp now and will hopefully show even more progress. (Wow, this was a long bullet point).

Coaching a walking group in Austin Fit's Cap 10K training program. So far we're up to 4 miles.

Cooking. New Year's Eve had me grilling ribeyes and lobster tails while the potatoes au gratin cooked. And I made a fabulous crawfish etouffee for Valentine's Day dinner. Here's some pictures for you foodies out there. Until next time, enjoy!