Cooking -- Diet Recipes that Maybe Don't Suck

I'm convinced the people that work at the gym are mocking me.

I workout pretty regularly at the LA Fitness by my house. You'll usually find me there on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays on that damn elliptical machine next to the scary sweaty man who looks like a bloated Russell Brand. Or I'm next the petite, pretty lady who smells like a truck full of hogs. 

Well each time I pick up Lincoln from the child care, the seemingly nice childcare lady  says, "See you in a couple days!" 

But, lately, I see something in her eyes. It's the ever-so-subtle hint of amusement. What's that about? You laughing at me, bitch! I will cut you!!! Is something in my teeth?

Then it hit me. She and her coworkers are probably wondering aloud each time after I leave, "How the hell can that chick workout so much and still be so friggin' chubby?!?!?"

I wonder that very question myself, ladies. Thanks for rubbing it in. Even if it's only through the power of your subconscious mind. I'm practically clairvoyant when it comes to judgement. 

But, let me tell you ladies, the answer is simple. This bitch loves to eat! 

(Duh, right? Who else would name their blog after salty, fatty treats?)

I guess I should be proud of myself for working out even though my food intake is not so...clean. And I do attempt the healthy eating route every now and again. It's torture and the thought of eating chicken and salad always brings tears to my eyes.

So I am assembling an arsenal of recipes that are healthy and I'd love your help. I know all about Skinnytaste and Hungry Girl and Spark People...but what I really want are the recipes you've actually tried AND loved. I only want five star reviews here.

Here's a few that I've found to be my go-tos when I have to eat lean...

Hungry Girl's Exploding Chicken Taquitos

My friend's mom actually made these for us at our annual garage sale last weekend. They were good! Salsa is a huge staple in my diet regimen. I usually don't care for fat-free cheese but I'll take what I can get when in the trenches.

Oven-Roasted Cauliflower

I do not care for steamed vegetables. There. I said it. They kinda make me want to gag.

BUT, I do appreciate a yummy roasted veggie. Cauliflower is my favorite and I can eat a whole pan of them as if they were french fries. Seriously. You may not want to be Larry come 2 am, however.

Honey-Lime Chicken

We eat chicken ALL the time around here so I'm always looking for ways to jazz that bird up. This is my favorite marinade. If I'm doing the low carb thing, I'll eat it over lettuce instead of as a sandwich. Or it's also good on some cilantro white rice. 

Skinny Tzatziki

 

I heart Greek food. This sauce on some simple roasted chicken with lettuce in a pita bread. Perfection. 

Slow Cooker Korean Beef Tacos 

I have saved the best for last. It's savory and sweet and comforting and healthy, all at the same time. Tacos are my life. And, as soon as Larry goes away on another business trip, I'm making these bad boys. 

So, again, I'm imploring you to share some good eats with me! Let's minimize the suffering together!

PS. At this time tomorrow, there will be 100 boxes of Girl Scout cookies in my house. 

Fuck me.

SCREWED.

Confession -- First Grade Casanova...I'm Watching You.

Let me just say, the transition back to school after winter break has not gone as joyously as I had envisioned. 

We had three weeks of fun and festivities but I was ready to get back into a routine. I was actually looking forward to becoming a mega-diet-bitch again so that I can resume some progress on the road to "not-really-hot-mama-but-not-harmful-to-the-eyes-cast-upon-me."

And, it was my birthday week, so things were looking pretty darn good. 

It was actually a pretty darn good week. Just shy of the mark. 

First off, Lincoln fell off this brand new bike. 

As a protege of Evil Knievel, Linc tried using his "turbo boosters" to go full speed down a steep, curvy hill. I didn't actually see it happen because those turbo boosters are really powerful and he got way ahead of me on a walking trail. Next thing I know, I hear my dramatic daughter yelling "There's blood EVERYWHERE!" As I run toward the scene, I'm imagining every sort of Quentin Tarantino movie carnage and at least one limb five feet away from the rest of his body.

Luckily, it was not so gruesome. He had only scratched up his face enough to get looks of pity (for him) and suspicion (for me) from strangers passing by. And as fetching as a crooked Hitler mustache of blood looks on my three year old, I didn't exactly look forward to him going to school like that. 

So that happened with Linc. Oh, and now, all of a sudden, after loving school for half a year, he no longer wants to go to "that place." I blame the gratuitous vacation mommy-time, the new puppy and the stupid Kindle he got for Chanukah. Why would he ever want to leave his house?

But the worst part of my week started with a series of text messages from Iowa. 

Hi.

How are you?

What are you doing?

They were followed by the link for Textnow.com. I just assumed it was some new sort of spam so I ignored them. Then Maya came home from school and told me that her friend Vincent also had a Kindle and that apparently you can download some app to text people on it.

I half-listened to her because there have been lots of stories of the Vincent variety since kindergarten. He's a cute boy and a smart boy so, while I have never encouraged her, I realized she could do worse. After all, this was the girl who, in preschool, announced, "I like boys who have fast cars and are a little bit naughty." I know what I'm up against, people. The apple doesn't fall far from the Catholic schoolgirl tree.

 Then, the next day I found someone's digits written on a piece of paper in her backpack along with the words Textnow.com. 

Wait a minute....

"Maya?" I asked. "Did you give Vincent my phone number?"

"YES!" she screamed. "I told you. We want to text each other."

Oh no. As the mystery texts flashed back into my mind, I started getting new ones on my phone. 

Are you there?

Me: Who is this?

Is this Maya? This is Vincent.

I instruct Maya to text him back that he is sending messages to my phone. But the texts don't end.

What are you doing?
 
Are you home from Daisy's?

Are you playing on your Kindle?

How are you?

Do you want to have a picnic in the park or go to the movies this weekend?

SAY WHAT?!?!?!?

 I ask Maya what this 6 year old Don Juan is talking about and she just shrugs and says, "He really wants to hang out with me."

Am I crazy? Or does this sound like my baby girl is being asked out on an fucking date???

At. Six. Years. Old.

I told Larry about the exchange and he was none too pleased. But I reminded him, they were little kids that they were ...innocent?

Larry's having none of it. He thinks our daughter now has a lecherous stalker. Well, he may have the stalker part right.

I get texts multiple times a day from little Vincent. And, since Maya only replies around 5% of the time, I'm not quite sure this kid is so bright. He is essentially talking to himself. 

I told her there would be no movie playdates unless his mom called her mom. But he continues to send movie times for Monsters, Inc. and Rise of the Guardians. 

Oh, and he asked her to send her picture so he could show his friends.

This is not cool.

So what do I do? Larry has turned into an NRA advocate overnight. (Not really. Don't get your panties in a bunch.)

But I really don't know how to react to this. So far, I'm just trying to be a good listener that also reminds Maya of what is appropriate and not appropriate in first grade, boy-girl friendships. She says she gets it but, in the back of my mind, I'm wondering if I have anything at all valuable enough to sell in order to raise boarding school tuition. All-girls boarding school. On a secluded island. With no Kindles. 

So Happy Birthday to me. Not only am I now in my mid-thirties, I'm also one more year closer to becoming a grandmother. And not the good GILF-kind. Or, as Nene Leakes would say, a GLAMmother. 

I am so screwed. Let me go chew on a carrot and bark at Larry. 

Pray for me.

Obession - To Consume or Not to Consume?

Is there really a question?

Now we all know I love me some shopping. Online, in the mall, in the Trader Joes...whatever. I love buying me some stuff.

I wrote awhile back about my children's swimsuit obsession. Well, we're going on a Disney cruise this summer. So the fever has begun early. This one is already hiding in my garage along with its matching hat and coverup.

Isn't it perfect????
 





Perfectly normal behavior for an Orange County H housewife.

But as the year begins anew, my mind starts thinking about the bigger spending picture. My dream home....

I don't even need to ask. But isn't it fucking perfect? (I would totally stop saying fuck if I lived there. You wouldn't need to. It would never even enter your mind!)

Unfortunately, we are victims of that fucking real-estate-bubble-bursting-shit. So we bought our modest townhome 7 years ago for the price of an I.E. McMansion now. But, eventually, I'd like to "move on up" as they say.

I don't need much. An extra bedroom or two or three. A yard, say.....one or two acres. That's it! Why you laugh?

But, in order to get said estate, Larry-the-buzzkill says we need to tighten the belts that I would use if my muffin top didn't already do the job just fine. 

(Even as I type this post, I am getting sidetracked by an ad for Modcloth. I'm now perusing dresses that are adorable but I'll never wear in a million years. But, maybe, if I buy one a size smaller that will motivate me...NOO!!!! I cannot do that AGAIN! I have a closet full of cute-but-never-actually-worn-clothes-with-tags-that-mock-me-each-morning-before-I-choose-the-boring-striped-t-shirt-yet-again. I must break the cycle!)

 How perfect is this for a fancy soiree that I shall host one day?

 What was I saying? Ah yes. A house. So I ask Larry for how long we'd need to save. He replies, "Oh. Two or three years."

YEARS???

I didn't ask but I'm still hoping he meant months. And as long as I don't ask for clarification, I can live in my delusional happy place where we have a new Cape Cod manor by Easter. Yay!!! Perfect for entertaining!!

I don't know about years, though. I'm a carpe diem kinda gal. And once I'm moved by something, I gotta have it. Hence, my daughter is enrolled in fifty after school classes because they all sound so fun and TOTALLY necessary to her academic enrichment.

Hence, I'll probably buy these curtains because, even though I will need to get them altered to fit our doors, I simply want them. And they'd fit perfectly in Cape Cod so really I'm saving money by not buying curtains twice. Take that, Suze fucking Orman.

Aren't they perfect??? And they totally match the dress above!

But we really need a house with a yard ASAP. And it's Larry's fault. (I love how, in my last post, someone commented ANONYMOUSLY that I should stop blaming Larry for everything. I immediately told Larry that if he had something to say to me he should say it to my face and not comment anonymously on my blog post. He denied any involvement and I believed him because it's too hard to comment on an iPhone. So whoever you are...I will do my best not to blame him for things that are not his fault. When and if that day comes.)

But this is clearly his work. 

Meet Max Bialystock. He's a rescued schnoodle (half schnauzer, half poodle) and the best friend that Larry has wished for all his life. I actually thought I fit that bill until Max came along. Guess Larry likes his best friends to be furrier. I tried.

I did not want a dog. I always told Larry that we'd get one after Lincoln was potty trained and we got a new house. I was hoping, at the very least, it would speed those events along. Still waiting. On both accounts. 

Max is very well behaved and about as house broken as Lincoln. Which I guess is as much as you can ask from two boys. 

But Max ain't cheap! He requires food and grooming and cute accessories. How am I going to save when I have something new to shop for?

Well, I guess I should be thankful that I've been blessed with another child. Even if all they do is eat up your dreams. I'm just buying those curtains now. 

Should I? Are they too much???