tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15771935188456021832024-02-20T16:40:00.771-07:00Diet CakeWe've been best friends for 20+ years, and now we're blogging about two of our favorite things: dieting and cake. Not necessarily in that order.Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13434677425108929775noreply@blogger.comBlogger130125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1577193518845602183.post-35197806349883444502009-03-26T00:38:00.009-06:002009-03-26T01:36:10.835-06:00What's all this?*<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVwYQKL2rsDxxEXkOA8tVnLlXfHKZUgmbxwePMA0cq3CLwz5P1AobZMbUSd48tiTIbBrdQJ-Fko4dav9dxaulTUFbHEjxY5NI-pa7V2SPtD_b7ebGKKod0CbTlN56pdfyToMjwKwry4C0P/s1600-h/SnowMe.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVwYQKL2rsDxxEXkOA8tVnLlXfHKZUgmbxwePMA0cq3CLwz5P1AobZMbUSd48tiTIbBrdQJ-Fko4dav9dxaulTUFbHEjxY5NI-pa7V2SPtD_b7ebGKKod0CbTlN56pdfyToMjwKwry4C0P/s400/SnowMe.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317396363551309810" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">Blog? What blog? I have a blog?</span><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">(Next thing you'll be telling me I have a third child who I've forgotten all about. Yuh-huh--it could happen. I'm just that loopy. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">Once we were at Disneyland with Sara's family and I was in charge of keeping track of two of the kids. Well, eventually that responsibility had to be taken away from me and I was then put in charge of keeping track of zero kids and just making sure </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">I </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">didn't get lost</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">.)</span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>*Please say in a British accent, preferably as if you were a chimney sweep in Mary Poppins. </div><div><br /></div><div>P.S. There's no point to the picture, other than I look like a complete dork and it makes me laugh. Well, maybe it is relevant. I'm 4 years old there, by the way (in case you were thinking it was taken last Tuesday).</div>Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00965748463949619634noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1577193518845602183.post-19780816636950109032009-03-16T21:10:00.007-06:002009-03-17T13:59:50.624-06:00Size: L (L is for Limbo)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7vhYO9H1BuAtpnTq2xeJ7wHuVO8Y9dQ5DSHnRfMTFMfKGHF3js-aHkfkm-MCuR_Yd-AC-rI1ivGn0Yw_GQwOiOXj-1ari86xqm2T6YYcd8wHRueG6QbPM65fl8tENoyBihH-kqcFss3ep/s1600-h/Limbo.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7vhYO9H1BuAtpnTq2xeJ7wHuVO8Y9dQ5DSHnRfMTFMfKGHF3js-aHkfkm-MCuR_Yd-AC-rI1ivGn0Yw_GQwOiOXj-1ari86xqm2T6YYcd8wHRueG6QbPM65fl8tENoyBihH-kqcFss3ep/s320/Limbo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314001215324451666" border="0" /></a><br /><br />When Sara was here way back in January (that seems so long ago), we went to Target. I think we were there mainly so Sara could give it (Target) a big "I miss you" hug, but we also purchased a few items. As it was still freezing cold here way back in January, Sara purchased some tights. I thought I would enjoy owning some tights also, so I picked up a package of Target tights and checked the back to see what size I should buy to fit, well, my size. <div>Here's what I saw:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOWlajVS7ERz2F-jUzU6RbYpxM2-sYcUleFlqYbfxDkgrQsIix7oGIgLW1flaWq2yPNwKTWGP04vOva1JDP6vM1nTNmgS5jvMOdoAL0c2w73m5TT52ALrM8S8Xp4LUUSivx18KRLV_t5YA/s1600-h/Tights.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOWlajVS7ERz2F-jUzU6RbYpxM2-sYcUleFlqYbfxDkgrQsIix7oGIgLW1flaWq2yPNwKTWGP04vOva1JDP6vM1nTNmgS5jvMOdoAL0c2w73m5TT52ALrM8S8Xp4LUUSivx18KRLV_t5YA/s400/Tights.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313998691894892946" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></div><div>For those of you who can't read Blurry, here's a translation (I'm near-fluent in Blurry):<br /><br />4'11"-5'5" 100-130 lbs Small/Med<br /><br />5'5"-5'11" 130-175 lbs Med/Tall<br /><br />5'5"-5'11" 190-240 lbs 1X/2X (I'm not positive it says 240. It's 2something though)<br /><br />Back in January, I weighed about 184 lbs (I'm not sure of the exact number, but I'm too lazy to look it up.)<br /><br />Do you see the problem? The tights skip from 175 pounds to 190 pounds, with no size offered for those weighing between 176 lbs and 189 lbs. Yeah--those who are under 4'11" or over 5'11" and under 100 lbs or over 240 lbs are also tightsless in this situation, but at least there are specialty stores for them (or the girls' department for those under 100 lbs). What am I to do? Where's my neither-here-nor-there store? I haven't done any research since to see if all tights have similar size gaps. Now that spring is here (kinda), I have no use for tights.<br /><br />And now I have a goal for this fall '09 (other than somehow acquiring several millions of dollars [which I will totally share with you--I'll at least buy you some tights]): to fall below 175 pounds so I can get me some of them fancy Target tights.</div><div><br /></div>Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00965748463949619634noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1577193518845602183.post-74824610442810704612009-03-15T13:07:00.004-06:002009-03-16T21:10:06.145-06:00I think Hallmark can see inside my houseA few days ago I got this card in the mail from my friend that I used to go to the gym with when I lived in Southern California. She lives in Japan now, and ergo carries the title of My Only Friend That is Usually Awake at the Same Time That I Am. Because of this, we chat on Skype a few times a week. Every once and awhile we talk about how little we like exercise compared to how much we like to eat. See why we're friends? Food = awesome, exercise = necessary evil.<br /><br />Anyway, I don't really have a point to this, I just really liked the card and wanted to share it with you.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfqHuY8l3O3Rmf-OScAl-lc_uYDsHIRsC4cvanzzSvlkN1RORfyW5VbBgMSJLRMlUwlZbbXOSEcg_wM0Omh-vawJFC2vVpl5rLiBvprSb5nj2PhgrPYdLpoPsBsqRapQ3UrbCkcrD00-TO/s1600-h/sc007b4d24.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 226px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfqHuY8l3O3Rmf-OScAl-lc_uYDsHIRsC4cvanzzSvlkN1RORfyW5VbBgMSJLRMlUwlZbbXOSEcg_wM0Omh-vawJFC2vVpl5rLiBvprSb5nj2PhgrPYdLpoPsBsqRapQ3UrbCkcrD00-TO/s320/sc007b4d24.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313493740253570914" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYToAXDBkxgZEKFcucm_Yz0b5kwaI471Qfr0xhOhYNmZhn-HHqzt87VIrtVpl2K8Ryw1wVYe1kpXdb7-thurTQDY7lEE3-ertaw6mIesDzs6S7ecG3jjrcQmrUzUrYLY4KbU_7q5lesUnP/s1600-h/sc007b6c65.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 78px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYToAXDBkxgZEKFcucm_Yz0b5kwaI471Qfr0xhOhYNmZhn-HHqzt87VIrtVpl2K8Ryw1wVYe1kpXdb7-thurTQDY7lEE3-ertaw6mIesDzs6S7ecG3jjrcQmrUzUrYLY4KbU_7q5lesUnP/s320/sc007b6c65.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313493733331293954" border="0" /></a>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13434677425108929775noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1577193518845602183.post-60105323342451527302009-03-05T21:53:00.004-07:002009-03-05T21:59:52.186-07:00Bad Idea of the Week:Eating 1/2 a box of Trix cereal (dry) in one sitting. (Hey-- Lost makes me anxious...and munchy).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXvwDFWOr4SL1B2GfVX0aa6pBQPppI3LooPK-7X61qKnvE4bl4Kkx49RLLUbzrOKPoM7c0v9Dcz6BPTTP-MFYMEZ3lADeYSWaIvAMhL6SnwCU9_QNMCt-j7538BmkcTr05FXhkecC4502N/s1600-h/TrixCereal.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 226px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXvwDFWOr4SL1B2GfVX0aa6pBQPppI3LooPK-7X61qKnvE4bl4Kkx49RLLUbzrOKPoM7c0v9Dcz6BPTTP-MFYMEZ3lADeYSWaIvAMhL6SnwCU9_QNMCt-j7538BmkcTr05FXhkecC4502N/s320/TrixCereal.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309934208746677810" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Good idea to counteract the bad idea:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq8z5cRmUsyafWlhwMwTFQd9IBpp46vsv44efctuUXH07Aa6gWtDWOSaXOpgz22IkuPP_tvshLOJ0Flv0xjgJbzSICAl72JO5GoMIrGHycXIMCB1f7zcafXFg9cNn4FMQK435LYIowR2xb/s1600-h/Imodium.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 127px; height: 182px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq8z5cRmUsyafWlhwMwTFQd9IBpp46vsv44efctuUXH07Aa6gWtDWOSaXOpgz22IkuPP_tvshLOJ0Flv0xjgJbzSICAl72JO5GoMIrGHycXIMCB1f7zcafXFg9cNn4FMQK435LYIowR2xb/s320/Imodium.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309934638911336898" border="0" /></a><br /><div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00965748463949619634noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1577193518845602183.post-70090738627284031502009-02-24T14:58:00.005-07:002009-02-24T15:55:26.549-07:00Skinny Buns<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFRB46mjRWCheFbF85v-XoF8pDtIcoAk8KXTcaigzGh82OFr3lFIVhYMJ8QdibFmE5DNu9j8kssjdw2vKbtxZVU_5TO3SrZmAcojm9DgdREjBUPl2nVCBR3RKBzQsk-AjGVUKT6KqIkLN_/s1600-h/MeLeia.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 399px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFRB46mjRWCheFbF85v-XoF8pDtIcoAk8KXTcaigzGh82OFr3lFIVhYMJ8QdibFmE5DNu9j8kssjdw2vKbtxZVU_5TO3SrZmAcojm9DgdREjBUPl2nVCBR3RKBzQsk-AjGVUKT6KqIkLN_/s400/MeLeia.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306500406545670434" border="0" /></a><br />Get this. (I read somewhere that the secret of successful bloggers is that they start each post with a forceful command.*) You know Carrie Fisher? The actress/writer/gold bikini-wearer? (Of course you know Carrie Fisher. Who doesn't?) I just heard from her very mouth that she was offered the role of Princess Leia in the Star Wars trilogy with the caveat that she lose 10 pounds. The thing is, at the time she weighed a mere 105 pounds. Sure, she's 5'1" tall, but that's still incredibly skinny. Shame on you, George Lucas and Star Wars casting agents!<div><br /><div>I hate Hollywood. (Except for when they make an enjoyable film--I like that part.)</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">P.S. My source for this information is an NPR podcast of "Wait, Wait...Don't Tell Me" episode, which originally aired on January 31st of this year. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" ><span class="Apple-style-span"><br />*I made that up</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" ><span class="Apple-style-span">. The actual secret of successful bloggers is that they tell outrageous lies.<br /></span></span></div></div>Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00965748463949619634noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1577193518845602183.post-72832745149015936922009-02-22T21:26:00.008-07:002009-02-22T21:45:04.662-07:00Never Give a Half-Baked Answer to a 4-year-old<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIyZkIHxCFMc9yKTUDzpRWvQJHRs0DW-u8JHwFlddONBw7cKQ_edvMkIo5wRFlQhAEF7TCxbQFCzKe4cKZGOXT9_9CYRgxEnlQnA7QDyKKkuVqMIu6P27bP3OUVROCX0X6iLaJb31U_c3K/s1600-h/PeekingLaura2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 350px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIyZkIHxCFMc9yKTUDzpRWvQJHRs0DW-u8JHwFlddONBw7cKQ_edvMkIo5wRFlQhAEF7TCxbQFCzKe4cKZGOXT9_9CYRgxEnlQnA7QDyKKkuVqMIu6P27bP3OUVROCX0X6iLaJb31U_c3K/s400/PeekingLaura2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305845118460224898" border="0" /></a>Conversation with above 4-year-old tonight, just before bed:<div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:130%;">4-year-old (In sweet lispy 4-year-old voice): "Mommy, what does 'fat' mean?"</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:130%;">Me (In an absent-minded, lazy voice): "It means 'big.'"</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:130%;">4-year-old: "Mommy, you are very, very fat!"</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:130%;">Me (In a paying-attention-now voice): "Honey, many people don't like it when you call them fat. It means they are...uh...bigger than they'd like to be."</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:130%;">4-year-old: "Mommy you are bigger than me!" (OK. I can agree with that.)</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br />I suppose I should have told her that "fat" means, "having too much adipose tissue." (see below). That would have cleared things right up.<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHKdHLLpH98r5nBi1Pqs954NR3hStfGAluzG0bdCPN1PTqh-P7G8rt13NTPRbWa-Ag553gUDlE0W9iMUo5C1fKD7CENkh-6cH-kCON2CEwRAFRI37ddO7iu5O1Cz5hLHz8l_Gn-3iazorX/s1600-h/Fat.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 206px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHKdHLLpH98r5nBi1Pqs954NR3hStfGAluzG0bdCPN1PTqh-P7G8rt13NTPRbWa-Ag553gUDlE0W9iMUo5C1fKD7CENkh-6cH-kCON2CEwRAFRI37ddO7iu5O1Cz5hLHz8l_Gn-3iazorX/s400/Fat.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305848219645036418" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">P.S. I really don't have a problem with the word "fat" myself (not that I want people yelling it at me in the street), but I don't want 4-year-old to start telling anyone who is larger than she is that they are "fat." </span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00965748463949619634noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1577193518845602183.post-22019026972327494882009-02-20T22:12:00.004-07:002009-02-20T22:41:34.879-07:00Product Review: Wheat Thins Fiber Selects<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnDIfBiED4rtr3xSKScJureCzVBatGJfinuVn5OChGHELHFepvBTsK9D9BxwBS3Qfc-u5PqnQNElOzt3NZ4ZCwGpkYFBH5WDMIOSiVQaS-s6rgE-LBw2nNtkJgILBzQ8rEJtffLO9LmNXA/s1600-h/Crackers.gif"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 68px; height: 100px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnDIfBiED4rtr3xSKScJureCzVBatGJfinuVn5OChGHELHFepvBTsK9D9BxwBS3Qfc-u5PqnQNElOzt3NZ4ZCwGpkYFBH5WDMIOSiVQaS-s6rgE-LBw2nNtkJgILBzQ8rEJtffLO9LmNXA/s400/Crackers.gif" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305121585493892674" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">I know you value my opinions...about everything. So based on that, I decided to sample a new food product and write about it. You're welcome!<br /></div><div>Have you ever had Wheat Thins? Sure you have. Everyone's had Wheat Thins. </div><div>Do you like Wheat Thins? I don't--not really, anyway. I suppose I would eat them if I were starving, or if I ran out of popcorn and there was something good on TV (is it possible not to eat while watching TV? I really need to find out.)</div><div>Still, they're not my favorite cracker. They're kind of anemic tasting. (Can something taste anemic if it doesn't have blood? What does anemia taste like, anyway? Don't tell me if you know.)</div><div><br /></div><div>Well, in spite of my lackluster feelings about Wheat Thins, I decided to give the new Fiber Selects 5-grain version a try. It helped that I had a good coupon that made them cost $1. </div><div><br /></div><div>Guess what? They're tasty! I really like them. In fact, I will certainly buy them again (no, I am not on the take from Nabisco). They have a nice, nutty crunch. I like the large grains of salt on the surface. (I'm a fan of salt.)</div><div><br /></div><div>What about nutrition, you ask? Be patient! I'm getting to that. </div><div>Here's some of the nutrition info from the box:</div><div>1 serving=13 crackers</div><div>Per serving:</div><div>4.5 grams fat (no saturated fat) </div><div>30% of calories are from fat</div><div>22 g carbohydrates</div><div>5 g fiber</div><div>2 g protein</div><div><br /></div><div>What's exceptional about those numbers is the fiber gram count. 5 grams of fiber is a lot for a serving of crackers. Most crackers have little or no fiber, even those with "wheat" in the title. (Did you know that? Does it annoy you like it annoys me? Are you annoyed that I'm annoyed by stupid things?)</div><div>For example, regular Wheat Thins have 1 gram of fiber per serving. Wheatsworth crackers (made from stone-ground wheat!) also have 1 gram of fiber per serving. Multigrain saltines have NO grams of fiber per serving. Triscuits are better than most, with 3 grams of fiber per serving (and, they are delicious)(also, never try to eat them without a drink at hand--they will <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">always</span> get stuck in your throat).</div><div><br /></div><div>What's so important about fiber? Well, that's a subject for another post. I could go on and on about fiber. I love fiber. What can I say? I'm just a regular girl. </div><div><br /></div>Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00965748463949619634noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1577193518845602183.post-76383733788081391492009-02-18T15:06:00.008-07:002009-02-18T22:39:05.356-07:00Twisty brain, twisty body<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhf1kx3uKyUHJfRLXSBJCeQFmtjqX4nkiU6uMLMmT2Q0qWah-aILeKvPlwBzYF32q5eT6MURbCEJX4pHLvjOxwEHQ-OJxrmo5FzT7Slzbo6T96UXv_Qmxxh1JfoTPkAfGmyvmy-yaTlF2I/s1600-h/Pretzel.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 276px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhf1kx3uKyUHJfRLXSBJCeQFmtjqX4nkiU6uMLMmT2Q0qWah-aILeKvPlwBzYF32q5eT6MURbCEJX4pHLvjOxwEHQ-OJxrmo5FzT7Slzbo6T96UXv_Qmxxh1JfoTPkAfGmyvmy-yaTlF2I/s400/Pretzel.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304355775086831042" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">An artist's rendition of me. Honest.<br /></span></div><br />Does anybody out there love yoga? I keep thinking I <span style="font-style: italic;">should</span> love yoga, and I <span style="font-style: italic;">want</span> to love yoga, I just, well, have never done it consistently enough to find out if I do. Every time I do it, I like it, but since that only happens about twice a year, I can't say for sure if there's a potential love connection or not.<br /><br />I think one of the reasons is that I haven't done a lot of it is that every yoga DVD or tape (Holly gave me some for Christmas once about 100 years ago) I've had has always been, like, a whole <span style="font-style: italic;">hour</span>. For someone with an attention span like mine (see also: gnat), that's a really long time. Here's the thing about my brain--ok, fine--<span style="font-style: italic;">one</span> of the things about brain is that it might have no problem doing something that takes such a long time, and it might even like it, but good luck, my friend, trying to talk it into doing it again. <span style="font-style: italic;">Even if I liked it</span>. My brain sometimes is not my friend.<br /><br />I found something neat today though. <a href="http://www.yogadownload.com/">Yogadownload.com</a>. I have read about their yoga, well, downloads in several places, with the consensus being that they're good, so I decided to go check it out, mainly because I had read that they have 20-minute sessions. My brain likey 20 minutes waaay better than more than 20. And guess what! Turns out the 20-minute sessions are free! At least a whole bunch of them are (I haven't exactly checked out the site extensively). I'm almost as cheap as I am easily bored, so this seems like a good combination for me.<br /><br />I downloaded the three beginner sessions, and I'm going to try one of them tomorrow. I'll let you know how it goes!Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13434677425108929775noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1577193518845602183.post-35445361308059456162009-02-17T21:22:00.005-07:002009-02-17T22:17:26.317-07:00Words to Eat By<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBYMyjcIa9vr29GdVk72Lx17kRpV0fdbRXzEJpaiD_vVxzpReK2wC9n09eJDBBlhKHUm6JKYnDgPTv2TIALBCz7hed0kyDxjoagOpS-3KybOItvp-x5kXrAvaJT0liskvdROTJey2JbTzN/s1600-h/Sampler.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 360px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBYMyjcIa9vr29GdVk72Lx17kRpV0fdbRXzEJpaiD_vVxzpReK2wC9n09eJDBBlhKHUm6JKYnDgPTv2TIALBCz7hed0kyDxjoagOpS-3KybOItvp-x5kXrAvaJT0liskvdROTJey2JbTzN/s400/Sampler.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304001529318346706" border="0" /></a><br />I just love folksy sayings, don't you? There's nothing like some homespun wisdom to inspire and instruct a body. <div>You know what I mean? Stuff like:</div><div><br /></div><div>"Birds of a feather have lots of feathers."</div><div><br /></div><div>and </div><div><br /></div><div>"A penny saved is still just a penny"</div><div><br /></div><div>(Inspired yet? I know I am!)</div><div><br /></div><div>What about this gem?</div><div><br /></div><div>"What's good for the goose is good for the French hens"</div><div><br /></div><div>and let's not forget:</div><div><br /></div><div>"A stitch in time leaves you with a holey clock." (That one has always been a comfort to me.)</div><div><br /></div><div>This past weekend has certainly been governed by another of my favorite proverbs. Let's see if I can get it right. Oh yeah:</div><div><br /></div><div>"You are what you EAT<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirklyWO_aJ-IEWulesGHb0YKFaIOwMjhNM8kxQ5WMn5TGu2wNnm77CV7mB-uqcCfYz2P5kqEBw4JtMLp1kpU8l2scsloe6EdZsfZKknsUaS6VyWKQVG4C4XSoPWmhqwjBoR8Tw_bk9jkJg/s1600-h/YouAre.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 381px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirklyWO_aJ-IEWulesGHb0YKFaIOwMjhNM8kxQ5WMn5TGu2wNnm77CV7mB-uqcCfYz2P5kqEBw4JtMLp1kpU8l2scsloe6EdZsfZKknsUaS6VyWKQVG4C4XSoPWmhqwjBoR8Tw_bk9jkJg/s400/YouAre.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304001823135888290" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00965748463949619634noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1577193518845602183.post-8099420759212799112009-02-15T11:59:00.004-07:002009-02-15T12:30:53.487-07:00This is more interesting than anything I have to saySo I was going to write a "Confess and Assess: Sara Edition" post, but I can't find anywhere the paper where I wrote my measurements down, and heavens knows I am waaay too lazy to just take them again.<br /><br />Instead, while I'm off searching through the random stacks of paper I have on every flat surface, read <a href="http://www.theglobeandmail.com/servlet/story/RTGAM.20090214.wbasket14/BNStory/National/">this</a> article. It's about the boys' basketball team at a high school in a small town in New Brunswick, Canada. One of my very dear friends sent it to me, as that is the town she grew up in and the high school from which she graduated.<br /><br />I kinda disappeared last week, because my mood spiraled into a pile of crap (figurative, thankfully) brought on, best I can tell, by the combination of hormones (ttom doesn't want to stick to any sort of schedule, it would seem) and my husband only being home for 3 days of the last month. Let me just say that there are days I handle his absences better than others. This past week was a few of the others. Reading that article though was a good reminder that maybe my life isn't as difficult as I sometimes seem to want to make myself think it is. Please don't think that, by posting this article, I am telling anyone to "suck it up" because their problems aren't "as bad" as this town's. I am a firm believer that you can't compare suffering (except maybe in extreme cases, i.e. hangnail vs. multiple organ failure--in that instance I <span style="font-style: italic;">might</span> have to call you a whiner).<br /><br />I am grateful whenever I find examples of people who carry on and succeed in the face of great difficulties. The circumstances may not be the same, but I think that we can gain something from stories like this to use to make our own lives better, even if it's just to give our loved ones an extra hug.Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13434677425108929775noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1577193518845602183.post-74559881634961221962009-02-14T00:40:00.004-07:002009-02-14T00:47:55.182-07:00The Simple LifeI've decided I would like my goal list to be the same as my nephew's. I saw it posted on my brother's fridge last night and was struck by its straightforward simplicity. Maybe I'm making life more complicated than it needs to be.<div><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibUqLXtppFEKkQGD6KBm_Ryb8v4S4MfkiRL-WPu1cy6-0j2e0jgFuB_Frjq19iHJa9yunEjt39QnWNzmciOCc6NRJdqLLidIMK1WMqPR9t5Hvc-fskfdfRgL5umfGKZsnMbYKv0c4d9clR/s400/Goals.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302556301081584866" /></div><div><div><br /></div></div>Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00965748463949619634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1577193518845602183.post-58511013037160474222009-02-11T21:42:00.008-07:002009-02-11T22:21:07.560-07:00Confess and Assess: Part 2<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIQwEl1pUakFbir6A-l_n71Bwt6o4wtDl7G8fWNKJrgorsb7MLs6g5tUvW9VsW3lapmd0R2LFGOd10To6PjaOB3q2fkCkdj9WZqkg9dmfy5lqRBl5LUE5YV0ACfuKgumL5r2GSy-8Zrt2H/s1600-h/TapeMeasure.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIQwEl1pUakFbir6A-l_n71Bwt6o4wtDl7G8fWNKJrgorsb7MLs6g5tUvW9VsW3lapmd0R2LFGOd10To6PjaOB3q2fkCkdj9WZqkg9dmfy5lqRBl5LUE5YV0ACfuKgumL5r2GSy-8Zrt2H/s320/TapeMeasure.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301775732540783858" border="0" /></a><br />Waaaay back in November of aught eight, <a style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);" href="http://dietcake.blogspot.com/2008/11/confess-and-assess.html">I posted my measurements</a> and other general information about my health and weight loss efforts. Since three months have passed (wow!), I decided to do it again. I LOVE putting personal information on the internet! (Almost as much as I love sarcasm!)<br /><br />Today's information:<br />*Weight: 182.5<br />*Height: still 5'9"<br />*Exercise regimen: finally working on it<br />*Best thing I eat regularly: oatmeal<br />*Worst thing I eat regularly: chocolate<br />*Husbands who weigh less than I do: Joel<br />*Nights per week I get enough sleep: one or two<br />*Number of aches and pains: three<br />*Water consumed daily: around 64-80 oz.<br />*Measurements:<br />-Upper arm: 14 inches<br />-Neck: 13 3/4 inches<br />-Bust: None of your diggity dang business<br />-True waist (smallest part): 33 3/4 inches<br />-Waist at belly button: 35 inches<br />-High hips (at hipbone): 42 inches<br />-Largest hip measurement: 44 inches<br />-Thigh: 26 inches<br />-Knee (just above kneecap): 17 inches<br />-Calf: 15 inches<br />-Ankle (why not?): 9 inches<br /><br />Compared to last November:<br /><br />-Weight: 3.5 pounds down.<br />-Upper arm: same<br />-Neck: 1/4 inch smaller (be gone, neck fat!)<br />-True waist: 1/4 inch smaller<br />-Waist at belly button: 2 inches smaller<br />-High hips (at hipbone): 1.5 inches smaller<br />-Largest hip measurement: same<br />-Thigh: 1 inch smaller (per thigh)<br />-Knee: same<br />-Calf: 1 inch smaller (per calf)<br />-Ankle: 1/4 inch bigger (why?)<br /><br />Overall progress. My most annoying trouble spots--my hips and arms--haven't budged yet. Considering most of the positive changes I've made over the past 3 months have been food-related, and I've only just started exercising regularly, I'm pleased with the results. Not gaining weight over the holidays was a thrilling development.<br /><br />I think I'll do this monthly from now on. I need the accountability.Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00965748463949619634noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1577193518845602183.post-55010225405949486852009-02-10T12:47:00.007-07:002009-02-10T13:55:12.283-07:00Amy Lawson, Come on Down!Dear Amy,<br /><br />Holly and I are busy putting together the prize packages for the contest that you dropped out of after three weeks. By "Holly and I," I mean "Holly," since I already mailed her my part of it; when it gets to her is up to the post office gods.<br /><br />But back to the quitting. We understand. That's ok. Really it is. We've quit lots of stuff before, too. Mostly crafts. But also lots of weight loss-related things. For instance, weight loss. I think it's safe to say that we've both been lifestyle-changing (that's the PC way to say "dieting" nowadays, right?) most of our adult lives. Honestly, the only reason I didn't quit the contest is because Holly makes my kids really cool cakes on their birthdays and occasionally mails me shoes. If I had quit, the shoe pipeline would have likely dried up. (P.S. Holly, when are you going to give me those black shoes I borrowed in December? And the red ones. I want those, too. The End.)<br /><br />We were pretty excited when so many people joined our contest and even more excited to see how many of them actually stayed with it the whole time. (Did you know that your sister stayed with it the whole time? Yeah, she's really great.) And Holly and I have been grateful the whole time that you gave us a mention/entire post on your blog which is what ultimately sent a large portion of those people to our blog. After that post, our readership increased sizeably, and our hits started coming more from Google Reader and less from people searching for <a href="http://dietcake.blogspot.com/2008/04/lose-10-pounds-in-10-seconds.html">this picture</a>. I am not kidding. For most of this blog's existence, the majority of the people that have looked at it were really looking for Igor. And anytime we see a hit from the UK or northern Europe, we can pretty much guarantee they want Igor, not us. I can't explain it, and I'm not sure I want to, but that's how it was. Until you.<br /><br />So we want to thank you. Since you did quit the contest, we can't technically send you a prize, but I hope no one will mind if we send you a present. It's not much, and there wasn't even close to a dozen dollars spent on it, but it's something I think you'll like. I originally bought for my son, but once I realized the treasure that it truly is, I quickly distracted him and stashed it away for me to keep, only occasionally bringing it out to show people on webcam so they can see the sheer awesomeness of it.<br /><br />Here, I'll give you a hint:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFSqZaAwoSL5zQUn-6s63CaTjxqysixkBuqEeuP9mebCsYy54eMlbeNiKAZt_cLM8Rx-UDEa44uDdOZsToG6lWMYGAO8IcXVzQ2VIySB_suzjfDXXm90bZ3zJRmzLsWX3pWd4gldUovvB6/s1600-h/Photo+117.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFSqZaAwoSL5zQUn-6s63CaTjxqysixkBuqEeuP9mebCsYy54eMlbeNiKAZt_cLM8Rx-UDEa44uDdOZsToG6lWMYGAO8IcXVzQ2VIySB_suzjfDXXm90bZ3zJRmzLsWX3pWd4gldUovvB6/s320/Photo+117.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301266850710192338" border="0" /></a>And some clues:<br /><ul><li>My son is obsessed with the movie <span style="font-style: italic;">Cars</span>.</li><li>I bought him a 10-pack of <span style="font-style: italic;">Cars</span> cars at an Egyptian toy store for 35 LE (Egyptian pounds; that's about $6.29).</li><li>Copyright laws in Egypt means nothing.</li><li>Egyptians frequently manufacture and sell things that are made to look like licensed products but clearly are not.</li><li>Many Egyptians don't speak English.</li><li>Best I can tell, most of these companies that both make these products and don't speak English, have some sort of aversion to hiring native English speakers to, you know, proofread.</li><li>Often, hilarity ensues.</li><li>Best. children's. toy. ever.<br /></li></ul>Why am I telling you all of this, you ask? Because, if you want this really great truck (I promise you; you're going to want to hide it from your child lest he break it, uh--in the interest of full disclosure--more than my son already has)(but he just broke of one of the high-quality ladders on the side; the text is still fully in tact), and I think you do, we need you to please e-mail us your address to myweightisasecret at g-to-the-mizz-ail dot com, and I will send it on its way to live at your house.<br /><br />Why didn't I just e-mail you privately, you ask? Because it's my day to post, and I can't think of anything to write about. Simple as that.<br /><br />Never change except for the better (what? you mean I'm not signing your yearbook?),<br />Sara and Holly<br /><br />P.S. I have a picture of the side, too, but thought I'd let you decide whether or not you want to see it before it arrives at your house. If so, lemme know, and I'll post it. If you want it to be a surprise, I'll wait until you have it before sharing with the class.Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13434677425108929775noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1577193518845602183.post-28686607398713347812009-02-09T21:58:00.016-07:002009-02-10T15:17:37.400-07:00I have a bone to pick with Nordstrom<div style="text-align: center;">A few times a year I get a catalog/big ad booklet in the mail from Nordstrom. I think they'veseen the palace I live in and realize I'm made of money, and they want some of it.<br /></div><div>I shop there once in a while (mostly from the clearance racks), so maybe that got me on the list. </div><div><br /></div><div>This past fall's catalog horrified me, and not just because of the prices or the hideous leopard-print loafers (look at me! I'm sassy and sensible at the same time!).</div><div><br /></div><div>Specifically, I was horrified by the legs on these models:<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCuRJ3VMYxLRSoIM92gmIOXsFT1x05iC70p4opTm2z3CXDgMrGU8AWci3HTv5POlXYTZQ7VPSgCQMAOWOsVaGeDWT-2sBqciGh0kYVp7gAr94dWGJdDQUCfRGB3DYcMYiwqek_cNeTkt1A/s1600-h/Nordstrom1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 233px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCuRJ3VMYxLRSoIM92gmIOXsFT1x05iC70p4opTm2z3CXDgMrGU8AWci3HTv5POlXYTZQ7VPSgCQMAOWOsVaGeDWT-2sBqciGh0kYVp7gAr94dWGJdDQUCfRGB3DYcMYiwqek_cNeTkt1A/s320/Nordstrom1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301040977892529346" border="0" /></a></div><div>And let's not forget this model (I think she's in the top photo as well, but that doesn't really matter):<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0hBjY-_Hxxp4sWr17BvAyQLvF_snUANEMBzO7-84JG3k4qddlNmUnQKXLlTnZEtSdYiWbBQ1IfCiOCErf6P5me_oKMi63xR1fKsDnBsWoYhH8c-joexjqClmcgYpCMQ2yu2LbHDv3m9TX/s1600-h/Nordstrom2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 233px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0hBjY-_Hxxp4sWr17BvAyQLvF_snUANEMBzO7-84JG3k4qddlNmUnQKXLlTnZEtSdYiWbBQ1IfCiOCErf6P5me_oKMi63xR1fKsDnBsWoYhH8c-joexjqClmcgYpCMQ2yu2LbHDv3m9TX/s320/Nordstrom2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301043327514245218" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>First, I want to invite these girls over for hoagies and chocolate milk (the thick kind). They need nourishment. Second, I want to ask Nordstrom why they are using impossibly thin models to sell their clothes.<br /><br /></div><div>I know. I know. They're <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">models. </span><span class="Apple-style-span">If they're not impossibly thin, they're not worthy of the title. I know that, but I don't have to like it. (Don't get me started on the topic of plus size models. Yeah...a size 12 model [who is probably at least 5'10" tall] does </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">not</span><span class="Apple-style-span"> wear plus sized clothing.)<br /><br />And really, I don't even expect or want companies to use average size 12-14 women in their ads for misses' and juniors' clothing. I understand that clothing is displayed to its best advantage on a slender frame. I just want there to be a line between slim and starving. Is that too much to ask?<br /><br />Young women have enough pressure in life without the subtle (and not-at-all-subtle) message coming from the fashion world: "Your body isn't right. You don't meet the ideal." (Raise your hand if you thought you were fat in high school, whether you were or not.)<br /><br />The bodies of the girls in the above photos go beyond thin. There doesn't appear to be any flesh on their limbs, let alone fat. I worry about their health--really I do. I don't blame the models themselves for these ads--they are just doing their job (which is to look pretty and try to stand upright using the energy gleaned from 1/2 a saltine and a baby carrot).<br /><br />What's the solution? I don't know. I don't know if I have the the time to figure it out...not today at least--I have things to scrub and polish.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br />What do you think?</span></div><div><br /></div>Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00965748463949619634noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1577193518845602183.post-21819422065884521822009-02-08T17:39:00.006-07:002009-02-08T18:17:52.521-07:00Food of the Week (Week 2): Clementines<div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTaCVIbONMC9xp4q5yV3-l58fzSFWMrjFiw0D6A0YxUVz7VEtNVAw_A4UoXhoN11BFVkn7lCcceyuEeJ1SqJSzDgO9XC3wvyYtUOtZijPdeFdJzrRuNThJ0uuyApTOLWaMOi909c8UC_Ye/s1600-h/Clementine.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 377px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTaCVIbONMC9xp4q5yV3-l58fzSFWMrjFiw0D6A0YxUVz7VEtNVAw_A4UoXhoN11BFVkn7lCcceyuEeJ1SqJSzDgO9XC3wvyYtUOtZijPdeFdJzrRuNThJ0uuyApTOLWaMOi909c8UC_Ye/s400/Clementine.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300592195425889410" /></a>"Oh my darlin'<div>Oh my darlin'</div><div>Oh my daaaaarlin' Clementine!</div><div>I will peel you</div><div>Then I'll eat you</div><div>Very yummy</div><div>Clementine!"</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Have you had a clementine (a seedless variety of mandarin orange) yet? Why not? They are delicious! They are little! They are cute! </div><div><br /></div><div>Have you, like me, ever not eaten an orange because you didn't have the energy to peel it?</div><div>Well, clementines are the answer to this dreadful dilemma. They are so, so easy to peel. You won't even believe how easy they are to peel. My niece told me her Weight Watchers leader says all you have to do is sneeze and they're peeled. That's pretty close to the truth.</div><div><br /></div><div>This is clementine season--right now. Hurry, because I don't think it lasts much longer. I buy 5 lb boxes at Costco, but you can get them at just about any supermarket. Don't be put off if the clementines seem a little squishy. That is likely because there is often space between the peel and the fruit (hence the ease of peeling). Just watch out for mold or crushed fruit that may have contaminated the whole bag/box. </div><div><br /></div><div>Here's what you get from a delicious clementine (besides deliciousness)-</div><div><br /></div><div>3.5 ozs of fruit (2 very small or 1 very large):</div><div><br /></div><div>50 calories</div><div>1.7 grams fiber</div><div>80% of your RDA of vitamin C</div><div>B vitamins</div><div>juicy goodness</div><div>a delightful citrus fragrance</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Notes:</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">1) Yes, I did create a bonnet for a piece of fruit. You wanna make something of it?</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">2) I also rhymed "you" with "you" in my "song." Sue me.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><br /></span></div><div><br /></div>Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00965748463949619634noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1577193518845602183.post-6929577741324757502009-02-05T13:36:00.009-07:002009-02-05T15:07:28.489-07:00If I don't put them in therapy, I'm not doing my job<div style="text-align: left;">Just now I was regaling Holly over IM with my "I'm Such a Great Mom" story of the day. It involves me lying to my daughter and convincing her that I really did see the entire assembly that her class sang in this morning when really I left as soon as her class was done. In my defense, I had just sat through the whole thing just before that when her sister's class did the <span style="font-style: italic;">exact</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">same</span> thing in the <span style="font-style: italic;">exact</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">same</span> assembly, so I really did see the entire thing, just not at the same time she saw it. (This also made it easier to supply information that <span style="font-style: italic;">only</span> someone who had <span style="font-style: italic;">clearly</span> been at the show could have known.)(Details are important when you're lying.)(But not too many; then you sound desperate.) An hour of watching other people's children perform entirely too long dances all while trying to keep my 2-year old both happy and quiet (you try it; it's worse that trying to both hula hoop and apply eyeliner) was more than enough for me.<br /></div><br />So, to sum up: I rule. Thankfully my mother can give my kids free therapy.<br /><br />I do have some good qualities as a mother though, so I going to share a few of the ways I think I'm succeeding in helping my kids be healthy.<br /><br />Some of my prouder parenting moments:<br /><br />My kids don't know that you can add sugar to cereal. I'm talking Corn Flakes here, people. The kids eat them completely plain and <span style="font-style: italic;">like</span> it. When I was a kid, there was always an at least inch-thick layer of sugar silt at the bottom of the milk.<br /><br />Last year, my oldest daughter came home from a church youth activity where the lesson had been about healthy eating. The woman who taught the class had a picture of Adam and Eve displayed, with a sign that said, "Adam and Eve didn't eat Ding-Dongs." After telling me about it, my daughter asked me, "Mom, what's a 'Ding-Dong?'"<br /><br />My older son has started getting up at 6am completely on his own just so that he'll have time to play Wii Fit for 15 minutes before school and get all his morning stuff done, too. He's done it for almost 3 weeks now without missing a day. This is the boy that usually acts like I sacrificed his favorite animal in front of him whenever I say something like, "Time to wake up."<br /><br />While they really do take after me (and I take after my mom, whose father once told her "You would rather read than run"), they are much more physically active than I ever was as a child--<span style="font-style: italic;">and</span> they actually like it.<br /><br />They have been known to turn down soda pop for water.<br /><br />They stop eating when they're full. And usually don't want more than one serving of dessert. Whenever that happens I have to remind myself that the fact that they are little clones of my husband is proof that yes, they are actually the children I gave birth to, and no, they were not actually switched at the hospital.<br /><br />My older son has become a smoothie-making whiz. He'll whip them up for anyone at the dropof a hat, and he loves to try different fruits and other flavor combinations. (I will neither confirm nor deny that I sometimes only pretend to drink them.)<br /><br />This one isn't health-related, but it makes me laugh, so I'm including it: My kids accept it as completely normal that when someone is drinking too much or too quickly, you say, "Easy on the Pepsi, Fuller;" when you have to clear your throat in order to say something, you follow it up with, "Welcome to the Pit of Despair; don't even think about trying to escape;" and if you're in pain, you adopt a British accent and say, "And that really hurt, Charlie, and it's still hurting."* That's just to name a few.<br /><br />My kids are just cool. Or seriously messed up. Either way works, because the bottom line is that they make me laugh, And as long as I'm entertained, it's all good.<br /><br />What are some of the ways that you help your kids to be healthy? Are they more healthy than you were as a child? Also, tell me something funny they do or say. I love me some funny kid stories.<br /><br />*If you don't know what I'm talking about, go <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_OBlgSz8sSM">here</a>. My 2-year old was quoting it to himself in bed last night--"Chaw-wee eat me!" Hi-larity.Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13434677425108929775noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1577193518845602183.post-27228434803321067692009-02-04T22:59:00.007-07:002009-02-05T09:42:22.966-07:00WonderTread<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcUNa8IOPIuMuq8osbO0_LtpBrTX2knP2tSoXG_7UHNUhPd7EEwtDMsVp52N19zCv_wxM5fbamvQpg2fCrxdVKJTcHy330X-15KXHiE4IykP9IAGPnGedu60-K2rjv-2G3jyDWqterTPFu/s1600-h/WonderTread.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 326px; height: 314px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcUNa8IOPIuMuq8osbO0_LtpBrTX2knP2tSoXG_7UHNUhPd7EEwtDMsVp52N19zCv_wxM5fbamvQpg2fCrxdVKJTcHy330X-15KXHiE4IykP9IAGPnGedu60-K2rjv-2G3jyDWqterTPFu/s400/WonderTread.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299195147098204066" /></a><br />I exercised today. Guilt made me do it...or gratitude--you pick. Last night my niece Annie was here and she was bemoaning (great word, bemoaning) her injured knee and the way it keeps her from her beloved exercise. (Annie lost a boatload of weight in 2007 and has kept it off for a year.)<div>So today, when I was (yet again) contemplating not exercising, I decided in honor of Annie I'd better stop being a whiner and be grateful that I <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">can</span> exercise. Sure, I'm as out-of-shape as a reject loaf at the Wonder Bread factory* (that's my favorite bad analogy EVER!), but at least my body has working joints and muscles. So I did rejoice exceedingly as I treadmilled this morning: hurray for knees! hurray for ankles! huzzah for hips! </div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">*Touring the Wonder Bread Factory was my favorite elementary school field trip of all time. Paper hat with Wonder Bread circles? Check. Tiny load of Wonder Bread for each of us? Check. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">But I don't think I've purchased a load of Wonder Bread in my entire life, so their advertising ploy didn't work. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:10px;"><br /></span></div><div><br /></div>Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00965748463949619634noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1577193518845602183.post-12733612166096281482009-02-03T12:18:00.009-07:002009-02-03T22:24:34.979-07:00And not really one to this one either<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5g8C_swrKXX2CKPGV9LhRIi0EtQEZKw7wDcbiUkn9lpHu-v4SLdCsDsjsFEDo7zSHd7BjT7LUFlkc6MXhh-1PoDPl-VXmnlbd9nCoWSjUeBRkBM4T2OOR6IXg347prSA9BK0csIinp1mQ/s1600-h/PruneJuice.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 224px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5g8C_swrKXX2CKPGV9LhRIi0EtQEZKw7wDcbiUkn9lpHu-v4SLdCsDsjsFEDo7zSHd7BjT7LUFlkc6MXhh-1PoDPl-VXmnlbd9nCoWSjUeBRkBM4T2OOR6IXg347prSA9BK0csIinp1mQ/s400/PruneJuice.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298808805864069458" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Today I think I had a personality-altering blow to the head, because I spent the bulk of the day--get this--doing some of the things that are constantly in my head as Things I Should Be Doing. Weird, huh?<br /></div><br />Anyway, to further go along with this theme of acting completely unlike myself, I'm also going to go to bed soon (it's just after 9pm here; maybe I didn't so much change my personality as age 50 years? Where's my Geritol?).<br /><br />But before I grab my prune juice nightcap and go shake my fist at youngsters and their devil music as I toddle off to bed, I'm going to share with you my new favorite quotation:<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:180%;">"We do not suddenly become<br />what we do not cooperate<br />in becoming."</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">William J. Bennett<br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: left;">'night, you crazy kids. As my grandma used to always tell me on my way out the door, "Don't do anything I can't do on a bicycle!"<br /></div></div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13434677425108929775noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1577193518845602183.post-13788104529897916722009-02-01T13:30:00.007-07:002009-02-01T14:12:10.513-07:00There is no point whatsoever to this post*Consider yourself warned.<br /><br />At 10 o' clock last night I was packing up the veritable mountain of stuff I had to mail off (mailing packages here is such a pain in the kiester that I tend to save it up until there's so much that I just can't put it off anymore)(well, I could, and I usually do, but this time I didn't). One of the boxes was to send to Holly containing the Egyptian part of these nutritious prize packages. It also contains my mom's walking stick. She couldn't fit it in her luggage, so I told her I'd mail it to her, but it didn't fit into any of the boxes I had, so I slipped it into the larger box heading for Holly. So hey, Hol, when the box comes, can you call my mom and have her come get her stick? Thanks. But I digress. Try not to be too shocked.<br /><br />As I was getting ready to tape up the box, I realized I hadn't included the most important thing! The trash! I couldn't exactly promise bona fide Egyptian street pickings and not follow through, now could I? I mean, if you're denying yourself figgy pudding because it might get between you and your own piece of garbage (or, say, because it's figgy pudding, but work with me here), you want your trash, dangit! But you know what I don't like doing? Going out at night by myself. Especially to, you know, pick stuff up off the ground. Lucky for me--and you winners, you--my husband was home this weekend.<br /><br />I gotta say, he looked at me really, uh...bewilderdedly...when I told him what I wanted him to do. I think for a moment or two he thought I was kidding. You may not have guessed this about me, but I kid a lot, so I can get where he might think this. But I was serious. And he is a seriously nice man. Holly is not the only one who goes along with my harebrained schemes. So he took his little flashlight (or, as our 2-year old calls it, "The Ghostlight! Aaaaaaaaaahhh!")(Said 2-year old is a little obsessed with <span style="font-style: italic;">Cars</span>.)(That was a little bit of an understatement.)(So was that.) and went and foraged on the streets around our house. My husband loves me very much.<br /><br />As a(nother) side note, Eminem just came up on my iTunes, and my husband thinks it's really funny that I even have Eminem on my iTunes. What? I don't strike you as someone who would like really crass rap? Have you never met me? Besides, it's just one song. Plus it's the clean version. So there.<br /><br />But rest easy friends, the trash is on its way! Also some stuff that's not trash (I hope)(I have a really hard picking things out for other people). Yay for prizes! And yay for everyone for doing this with us. I'm thinking that if those of you who didn't win want to join us again for a Springtime contest, I might offer a piece of garbage as a participation prize. Mostly because a) they're funny (and really isn't that reason enough?), 2) they're free, and III) I've clearly proven I can get my husband to do some pretty crazy things for me, so why not?<br /><br /><span style="font-size:100%;">P.S. I just noticed that dh's Facebook status update is referencing my Eminem. I can't complain though; I might need him later. That trash ain't pickin' itself up!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">*Told you.</span>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13434677425108929775noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1577193518845602183.post-43303038707812362962009-01-30T22:42:00.010-07:002009-02-01T18:59:07.232-07:00Food of the Week (Week 1): Edamame<div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzaNAMDUKkD7RWJM2NILyu6FQycr_wuTcegcXMHJv12a9eKSIMJnfrLqNrLUY_dbXY7MBUUr1BmP1gvKPgdsjFBGrw1txVmYtcFMZ49Yq35h2sTdiqZaA193slQ2J2Q0IfSjvDtXdMUMBc/s1600-h/Edamame.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="text-decoration: underline;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 319px; height: 208px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzaNAMDUKkD7RWJM2NILyu6FQycr_wuTcegcXMHJv12a9eKSIMJnfrLqNrLUY_dbXY7MBUUr1BmP1gvKPgdsjFBGrw1txVmYtcFMZ49Yq35h2sTdiqZaA193slQ2J2Q0IfSjvDtXdMUMBc/s400/Edamame.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297331600431669186" /></a>I know most of you are sushi-eating urbanites who have been eating edamame from the womb (though I have yet to hear of a pregnant woman who craves edamame specifically, but it could happen). If you are in this group, feel free to skip this post and <div><br /></div><div>I interrupt this post about healthy food to tell you that I just looked down at my left arm to find it covered in brown goo (don't panic--it's not <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">that </span>kind of brown goo). Also covered in brown goo? The left side of my favorite ragged sleeping t-shirt (the one that just says "Dude" on the front). Wha? My confusion lasted only a moment and I was able to use my excellent deductive reasoning skills to deductively reason that several of the chocolate chips I was eating (hey, I'm human) must have fallen between my arm and my shirt and melted there. You'll be relieved to know that <a href="http://dietcake.blogspot.com/2008/04/couch-slug.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">Clifford the Big Red Couch</span></a> was unscathed. </div><div><br /></div><div>Back to talking about soybeans. Edamame=green soybeans. Edamame (pronounced ed-eh-MAH-may...I think) is a much funner word than soybean. Soybean makes me think of tofu. And tofu, while it may be reasonably tasty when prepared with skill, is almost never fun. (Prove me wrong, folks. Prove me wrong.) </div><div><br /></div><div>Here's what you do. You go to the store. You buy some frozen in-the-shell edamame (you'll find it frozen in the freezer section) and you heat it up. You can even do it in your microwave--no fancy edamame steamer or boiler needed. Then you sprinkle it with a generous amount of course salt such as kosher salt. Then you take one of those ugly, hairy pods that looks like something your 6-year-old has in his/her "nature collection" and you use your teeth to remove the delicious little soys inside. Yummy! It really is. (Don't forget the salt.)</div><div><br /></div><div>Here's what you get*:</div><div><br /></div><div>1. 6 grams of fiber (woo! fiber!)</div><div>2. 11 grams of protein</div><div>3. oodles of vitamins and minerals</div><div>4. a mere 120 calories</div><div>5. a pile of discarded hairy pods for your little one's "nature collection"</div><div><br /></div><div>Try it. You'll like it! (If you don't, try some chocolate chips instead.)</div><div><br /></div><div>*<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">in a 1 1/8th cup serving (in shell--1/2 cup shelled)</span></div><div><br /></div><div>Oh!</div><div><br /></div><div>Here's the situation that inspired me to write about green pods:</div><div><br /></div><div>Earlier this week I was getting Joel's food ready for him to take to work (Egg Beater sandwich? Check. 2 cups grapes? check, frozen diet meal for lunch? check.). He requested a bowl of edamame to snack on. I got it for him, and as he was putting it and the other food in his backpack, Laura (age 4) ran up to him and said, </div><div>"Mommy's going to give me a treat!"</div><div>Joel said, "What is it? Edamame?</div><div>Laura, laughing (and without missing a beat), replied:</div><div>"Adaboblo?"</div><div><br /></div><div>Silly Daddy and his made up words!</div>Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00965748463949619634noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1577193518845602183.post-79932714050160039332009-01-29T12:24:00.006-07:002009-01-30T11:47:43.921-07:00Not that quarters are all that heavy, but still...Last week I spent the part of a morning doing 3 things they say you should never do: I colored my own hair, cut my own bangs, and cleaned up a month's worth of eyebrow growth all at one time. Practically the only thing I didn't do was give myself a bikini wax. I'm not really sure what I was thinking. I guess it was kind of like the time (this is a true story; you can't make up stuff like this, folks) when he was a little boy that Holly's husband thought to himself, "Now would be a good time to put this quarter in my mouth," which he did and then promptly choked. Luckily his mother was nearby, picked him up by his ankle, and with a firm upside down shake, dislodged the quarter. Best I can figure, my brain decided that last Wednesday would be a good time to spend an hour or so doing tasks left best to professionals.<br /><br />It turned out fine though, don't ask me how. The color's good (though I haven't worked up the nerve to do the highlights yet, so I'm currently missing being blonde), my bangs turned out better than they should have, and I don't look constantly surprised, so I really can't ask for more.<br /><br />Something else I like to do that the all-knowing "they" say you shouldn't do is weigh yourself more than once a week. Not me. I weigh myself everyday, usually twice, sometimes more than that. For some reason, it helps me stay aware of reality. Or at least <span style="font-style: italic;">more</span> aware, since saying I'm aware of reality is like saying I'm blonde. Two things I don't do, however, are let what the scale says effect my mood, or trust any weight other than the first-thing-in-the-morning-no-clothes-pre-breakfast-post-bathroom-use weight as the real thing. Every other time I weigh during the day, it's more out of curiosity than anything else. In fact, one of the reasons I weigh right before I go to bed is because I like to see the big drop that happens overnight. And then when there isn't a big drop, that's usually a clue that I ate too much sodium the day before or didn't drink enough water or didn't get enough sleep.<br /><br />I think because I get on the scale so much is the reason the number of the day doesn't effect my mood. I've done it so many times that it's made it so the my weight has become just a number, a way to gauge how I'm doing. I will admit, though, that the fact that I spent over a year within 5 pounds of the same weight got pretty darn frustrating at times. But since I know that I wasn't being consistent with my diet or my exercise or (all to frequently) both, I knew that my "plateau" was due to my own actions, not the scale, and therefore I was frustrated with myself, not the scale.<br /><br />Another benefit to my frequent weighing is that I've noticed some patterns in my weight. For instance, I know that after I have a drop into new territory (like last week's final weigh-in where I saw a number I haven't seen in yearsandyears), I tend to go back up 2 or 3 pounds and then work my way back down over the next couple of weeks (if I'm being consistent that is). So this week, I've been trying to be extra careful about what I eat and how hard I workout, because I'd really like to keep up my momentum. I was thrilled last week because I was finally back into the 140s, but I don't consider myself fully into a "decade" until I'm closer to the middle of it. But a big success for me this week has been that I haven't seen the 2-3 pound jump I usually see after the drop. In fact, I'm hovering right around the new weight still.<br /><br />I read an article several years ago that really changed how I felt about getting on the scale called <a href="http://primusweb.com/fitnesspartner/library/weight/scale.htm"><span style="font-style: italic;">Why the Scale Lies</span></a>. This information is probably one of the biggest influences that turned my relationship with the scale into a diagnostic tool and helped remove a lot of the emotional aspect of it.<br /><br />One more thing to remember: this is just my experience. My issues are not your issues (and you should be grateful!) and something that works for me might not work for you. My hope is merely that maybe the way I do something will help you evaluate the way you do something and see if it is truly working for you. If it is, great! If not, at least you know.<br /><br />Also, there's really never a good time to put a quarter in your mouth, no matter what Joel says.Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13434677425108929775noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1577193518845602183.post-44009670686960933652009-01-27T11:51:00.008-07:002009-01-27T19:47:45.457-07:00Dum, dum, dum, DUM! And the winner is...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ4gj2eiN9Lqkr-STJfrx_hyZ0aYbCL3EhUtneEJfRXaPxTbr-5XT5TtQyugmjmmiZB64xoXjh5VOFw64v6FP-AQh6w9CxNVa-8cf6ouD-yu4o5Mr0-UYJz7SlwwhaPMZ3XPvl4JdrZYzE/s1600-h/AwardsFinal.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ4gj2eiN9Lqkr-STJfrx_hyZ0aYbCL3EhUtneEJfRXaPxTbr-5XT5TtQyugmjmmiZB64xoXjh5VOFw64v6FP-AQh6w9CxNVa-8cf6ouD-yu4o5Mr0-UYJz7SlwwhaPMZ3XPvl4JdrZYzE/s400/AwardsFinal.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296064414124681010" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">Sun Productions! </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">(Do you want me to reveal your real name Ms. Sun Productions?)</span><div>She lost a whopping 6.1% of her body weight. </div><div>We're ever-so impressed. And also awestruck. </div><div><br /></div><div>In second place is dcfullest, who lost an amazing 4.23% of her body weight.</div><div><br /></div><div>In third place is Patty, who lost an outstanding 4.07% of her body weight. </div><div><br /></div><div>Will the three of you please send your contact info to myweightisasecret at gmail dot com ? Thanks! The most amazing prizes in all the land are coming your way. Eventually. </div><div><br /></div><div>Kudos to Hannah, Sweet Escape and Katie who all lost more than 3% of their starting weights during the contest. </div><div><br /></div><div>A big old hearty pat on the back to Rachel, Maureen, Rachel R., Heather, Wendi, Marie, Renee, Sara (yes, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">that</span> Sara), Holly (that's me!), Amy Lou Who, Joolee, Tiffany and Gina Lee for persevering and making some positive changes over the past couple of months. I am impressed with how many either lost weight or maintained at a tough (and delicious) time of year. </div><div>A less hearty, but equally sincere pat to Kelly, Katy and Diane, who all weighed in the week before last, but didn't show up at the final weigh in on Friday. All three of them lost significant amounts of weight!</div><div>(If any of you want to know what your final percentage was without having to do actual math, send us an e-mail at myweightisasecret at gmail dot com. </div><div><br /></div><div>Thanks for all your comments, insight and good humor. </div><div><br /></div><div>Thanks to those who kept reading even though the contest got away from them somehow. We'll expect to see you next time. (cue menacing music)</div><div><br /></div><div>And last but not least, a huge lump of thanks goes to <a href="http://granolasdodallas.blogspot.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">Amy Lawson of Amy Lawson Inc.</span></a> for writing about the contest on her mostly-famous blog and bringing many of you to us. She may have thrown her scale down the basement stairs, but she'll always be a winner to me. Also a quitter, but a quitter in the best way possible. Thanks, Amy Lawson!</div><div><br /></div><div>Keep fighting those pounds, folks. It's worth the effort. Honest! And please come back for more Diet Cake anytime. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00965748463949619634noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1577193518845602183.post-1450312162447333072009-01-26T22:43:00.002-07:002009-01-31T00:09:31.449-07:00Coming up...Tomorrow by noon (Pacific Time) I will post the winners for the contest. Woo!<div><br /></div><div>I'd do it now, but I've been doing math (I should have made you figure out your own percentages) and my brain is too fried to write a post more interesting than this one. </div><div><br /></div><div>See you tomorrow!</div>Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00965748463949619634noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1577193518845602183.post-57898671575457273342009-01-25T14:10:00.006-07:002009-01-27T20:07:20.067-07:00Butter Soup<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxH7-EoRTGEKeluW9I2zSgBNI_g2Bve1q-sLH7Nye4U-19v2RtBUnwHzlbTo0oSSdvGuBekZv4tJwCOxoW-xwFPhM2aC-iFunV3aCHmmVEPetE8IIbK8sHwazQw7_uxQXeqEa7Eqi4loKB/s1600-h/ButterSoup.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxH7-EoRTGEKeluW9I2zSgBNI_g2Bve1q-sLH7Nye4U-19v2RtBUnwHzlbTo0oSSdvGuBekZv4tJwCOxoW-xwFPhM2aC-iFunV3aCHmmVEPetE8IIbK8sHwazQw7_uxQXeqEa7Eqi4loKB/s320/ButterSoup.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295374544942413426" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">Not to be confused with Butter Face.</span><br /><br />My mom's been here visiting for the last three weeks (in fact, she just left for the airport, sob), and in an attempt to think of something new to do (three weeks is a long time, and if you can believe it, even pyramids get boring) I signed us up for a Lebanese cooking class.<br /><br />It was a one-day deal, and the teacher showed us how to make six great dishes. I went into the class under the impression that Lebanese was my favorite of all the Middle Eastern cuisines I had tried, and I left the class positive of this fact. Every recipe was just as good as--if not better than--the last, really easy, and very healthy.<br /><br />One of my favorites--which I honestly didn't think I'd like, since I'm not a huge fan of lentils--was her Red Lentil Soup. I swear it tasted like it was butter-covered butter with butter filling, but it wasn't just completely butter-free, it didn't have any other fat, either! So I guess another name for it would be Magic Soup.<br /><br />Red Lentil Soup<br />by Sahar Melhem<br /><br />1 cup red lentils<br />1 tomato, cut in large chunks (seriously, I think she cut it in half and that was it)<br />1 potato, peeled, cut into large chunks (same)<br />1 carrot (take a guess--cut in half, and she didn't even peel it)<br />1/2 c. water<br />1 tsp. cumin<br />salt (to taste)<br />pepper (just a little)<br /><br />1. Wash the lentils until the water runs clear. Put lentils into saucepan and cover with water (about an inch; it's supposed to be a creamy soup, so don't add a lot unless you want it to be more watery)<br />2. Put lentils on the stove over medium-high heat<br />3. Add the vegetables and bring it to a boil, then turn down the heat and simmer until everything is very soft (or how we worded it in class "'til mush"), about a half an hour<br />4. Turn off the heat and let cool slightly<br />5. Put everything in the blender and blend until smooth<br />6. Pour through a strainer (she said this isn't necessary if you peeled your carrot)<br />7. Put back on the stove<br />8. Add water, cumin, salt, and pepper (she used quite a bit of cumin and salt, but this soup can really take a lot of flavor, if that's what you like)<br />9. Heat through<br /><br />Serve with lemon juice squeezed over each bowl (optional; I preferred it without)<br /><br />A couple of other notes: She said you can add an onion, too, if you like, but make sure it is really small, and just cut it in half, like everything else. Also, after step 6, you can freeze the soup to use later. If you do this, thaw it and then proceed with step 7 (you may need a little extra water).Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13434677425108929775noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1577193518845602183.post-17853492869226808222009-01-25T00:52:00.003-07:002009-01-25T01:05:10.710-07:00What now?Bring on the cookies! Yee haw!<div><br /></div><div>Nah. Just kidding. (Kind of.)</div><div><br /></div><div>First of all, if you didn't post your final weight and you should have, please do it! It's not too late. </div><div><br /></div><div>Once we've figured out who is who and what is what, we'll announce the winners of the First Annual Diet Cake Holiday "Ho Ho Ho We're Fat" Weight Loss Contest. Then we'll send those winners some sort of fabulous prize, which will include, but not be limited to, Egyptian trash. </div><div><br /></div><div>All of you, winners or not (oh gosh--you're all winners, but you know what I mean), figure out what's next in your battle to get/stay slim, strong and healthy. </div><div><br /></div><div>We'll keep posting here at Diet Cake. Maybe some of it will be helpful. (It could happen!) I hope you'll keep reading and letting us know about your successes and struggles. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'm thinking another contest is in order...maybe sometime in the spring. Won't that be fun? (Answer: of course it will)</div>Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00965748463949619634noreply@blogger.com2