Green Egg Scramble

I do so like green eggs and ham!
Thank you! Thank you,
Sam-I-am!

                                                           -Dr. Seuss

 

Now that Valentines Day has become a memory, my mind is now rushing to March and the promise of spring, and St. Patrick's Day. Of all of the holiday's, my two very most favorite are Valentines Day and St. Patrick's day because there are no grand preconceived ideas about what should and shouldn't happen. It is a blank canvas and every year and I have the opportunity to create what I want to with the time and energy that I have.

 

St. Patrick's Day usually involves a green breakfast thanks to our naughty little leprechaun, a large spread of Irish delights (for dinner last year we had Stout Braised Short Ribs, Irish Colcannon and Irish Soda Bread) and discovering the mischief that our leprechaun has gotten into as we were sleeping. Our leprechaun has been known to toilet paper the living room, leave footprints in our hall and on the toilet seat, draw with gel food coloring on our counter and last but not least turn our toilet water and milk green. Our green milk then turns our eggs or cereal green. 

 

With recent news regarding the safety of synthetic food coloring I have been thinking forward to the mischief of our friend from the emerald isle and have decided that it is time to do things a little differently. I have also been thinking about how I nourish my family. I feel like I feed them decently well, but if I really took a step back I have a long ways to go to be able to say that I actually nourish them.

 

All of this was on my mind this morning while I prepared breakfast. I had just gotten home with my Bountiful Basket and my mind was already swirling with ideas of how I would use my basket in the coming week. My sister-in-law had mentioned a while back that she sneaks spinach into her kids scrambled eggs on a fairly regular basis by just blending the two together. Brilliant!

 

When my kids were really little we did an "at home" preschool co-op with some other families in our neighborhood. We followed the "Joy School" curriculum which was a fun adventure for our whole family. My kids have always been adventurous eaters, but I love the encouragement from "Joy School" to help our kiddo's be risk takers and to try things that they wouldn't normally try.

 

Inevitably I got to teach one of the food lessons where the kids would try new foods. I usually opened with "Green Eggs and Ham" by Dr. Suess and we highlighted the fact that the character in the book made his mind up about green eggs and ham before he ever had a chance to taste it. Once he tasted it, albeit reluctantly, he loved it.

 

Parents can go a long way in either encouraging or discouraging an adventurous palate just in the way they present a meal. If you start out telling your child it is weird or that they probably won't like it, you will probably be right. Don't sabotage the experience with your own biases. Present the meal with excitement and maybe a little magic. You could prepare these eggs on St. Patrick's day morning and the thought that a leprechaun had something to do with the reason that they are green may help even your pickiest eater to give it a little try.    

 

 

Green Egg Scramble

 

6 eggs

1/2 bunch spinach, rinsed and trimmed

1 Tbsp butter

1 leek diced and rinsed (can substitute 1/2 onion as well)

2 small or 1 medium zucchini chopped

1 c salsa divided

1 large avocado diced and divided

 

In blender combine eggs and spinach. Blend until frothy green.

 

In a medium deep skillet melt butter and saute leek until it is somewhat translucent and fragrant (about 2 minutes).

 

Add zucchini and stir fry for an additional 2 minutes.

 

Add eggs and cook until they are cooked through.

 

Top with salsa and avocado.  

Nutella Syrup

Forget love ... I'd rather fall in chocolate!

 

We are just a hop, skip and a jump away from my FAVORITE holiday! I love the simplicity of Valentines day. It can be as elaborate or as simple as you decide. There are no expectations of some mystical creature that will magically appear and grant your child's wishes. No hiding gifts or eggs or dollar bills. No need to be sneaky or secretive or aloof.

 

I get to just be me.

 

I get to tell my loves what they mean to me and why I am so grateful that they are a part of my life, in my own way, at my own pace, and with the effort that I am able to pull together at this time of year. 

 

It is all mine!

 

We have very few real "traditions" when it comes to Valentines day. The only constant that runs through the years as a thread that holds them all together is that I cook special meals.

 

Breakfasts are usually heart shaped and decadent while dinners revolve around things that my hubby loves, namely steak and seafood with a big glorious homemade cheesecake for dessert.

 

After several years of trying to go out for Valentines day, arranging baby sitters, finding a restaurant that actually accepts reservations and then waiting around for a sub par dining experience, we decided that eating at home for the actual holiday is the way to go and then we go on our Valentines date a week or two later. Eating at home also allows us to celebrate with our kiddo's. It's a win-win for everyone.

 

So with Valentines on my mind I decided to experiment this morning with a new breakfast syrup concept and we all loved the results. Imagine pairing this with the coconut crusted French toast that I posted just over a week ago for a little Mounds candy bar flavor burst or maybe creating peanut butter pancakes and then drizzling them with this syrup and you've got your morning Reese's. Let your taste buds be your guide and create a fun, delicious and special breakfast for your loves this Valentines morning.

 

Nutella Syrup

 

1/2 C Nutella

2 Tbsp butter
1/2 C milk 

1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp vanilla extract

Combine first 3 ingredients in a medium sauce pan. (The syrup will more than double in size when you add the baking soda, so a medium sauce pan is necessary.)

Bring just to a boil over medium heat.

Remove from heat and whisk in remaining ingredients until syrup is light and fluffy.   

 



Pan Seared Brussels Sprouts with Bacon and Feta

We kids feared many things in those days

- werewolves, dentists, North Koreans, Sunday School

- but they all paled in comparison

with Brussels sprouts

                                                                          -Dave Barry

 

Forget everything you know, or think you know about Brussels sprouts. One bite of these delectable little beauties will have you singing a new tune.  

 

I have always loved Brussels sprouts, except for a short time when my older brother Mike told me that since Cabbage Patch Kids came from cabbages and Brussels sprouts are essential mini cabbages then Cabbage Patch Kids Preemies must come from Brussels sprouts. It only took one tear filled dinner to quickly dispel that myth. 

 

Brussels sprouts to me are, just as Mike said, mini cabbages. Being mini, they contain all of the flavor of a cabbage in a much smaller package which makes the flavor much more intense. The bitter flavor is one of the reasons Brussels sprouts get such a bad rap, that and if they aren't cooked properly they can turn into a slimy ball of wilted sadness that no one wants to eat.

 

That is the beauty of this dish. You aren't boiling the Brussels sprouts so they don't soak up excess liquid. The salty taste of the bacon and the sweetness of the cranberries help draw out the bitter flavor in the Brussels sprouts leaving you with a very mild "baby cabbage" giving you the opportunity to enjoy all of the health benefits of these tiny powerhouses.

 

I added asparagus to this dish during our Thanksgiving feast, throwing in a full bunch cut into 1 inch sections when the Brussels sprouts were almost half cooked and I loved the results. Asparagus and Brussels sprouts go really well together. If you wanted a vegetarian version of this dish you could omit the bacon and substitute a drizzle of balsamic vinegar and serve it over a bed of brown rice or barley. This is something that I will be experimenting with in the near future and will post here as soon as soon as I have perfected the recipe. But for now, I hope you will give Brussels sprouts another chance with this quick and easy recipe that even you pickiest eater will enjoy. (p.s. my kiddo's aren't fans of feta, so I always serve theirs first and sprinkle mine with feta once it is on my plate)

 

 

 

Pan Seared Brussels Sprouts with Bacon and Feta

 

1 pound of Brussels sprouts washed, trimmed and halved

1/2 pound of bacon, crispy cooked (reserve 2 tsp of drippings)

1 C dried cranberries

1 C toasted nuts of your choice (I have used hazelnuts and macadamia nuts)

1/2 C feta cheese crumbles

 



In large skillet, that has a lid, cook bacon until it is crispy.

Remove bacon and clean out drippings, reserving 2 tsp of drippings to saute the Brussels sprouts.

In the same skillet, warm 2 tsp of bacon drippings over medium heat.

Add Brussels sprouts and stir fry for about 5 minutes, covering with lid after each stir.

Add cranberries and continue to stir fry for another 5 minutes, covering with lid to allow the Brussels sprouts time to steam and soak up the flavor of the cranberries.

Add cooked bacon and nuts and stir fry for 2-3 minutes more until Brussels sprouts have cooked through to desired doneness but stir frequently so as to keep the bacon from burning.

Remove from heat and sprinkle with desired amount of feta just before serving.

Coconut Crusted French Toast

The waves of the sea

help me get back to me.

                                          -Unknown

 

This is usually a particularly hard time of the year for me. Christmas is over as well as the celebration for the New Year. My "resolutions" are beginning to fade and I am starting to feel like a failure. It is bitter cold and the thought of spring feels like a fantasy at the moment.

 

But, this year is different.

 

With all of the little changes that I have been making and my good friend, the "happy light", I might ACTUALLY make it through this winter in one piece! I have a couple of little trips planned and our big family vacation for the year is mostly paid for, I'm just waiting to actually make the purchase.

 

When winters are hard though, I have found that if I trick my mind into believing that I am somewhere tropical I can usually take off the top layer of sadness, even if it is only for a couple of moments. This usually involves listening to my Israel Kamakawiwo’ole station on Pandora and making something yummy to eat that reminds me of the islands. 

 

Nothing says Aloha to me in a more beautiful way than Coconut Crusted French Toast with Coconut Syrup. The warm toasted coconut is nestled nicely in a bed of thick sliced French bread that has been dredged through a mixture of eggs and coconut milk which enhances the flavor and gives a lighter feel to the whole meal.  

 

So turn up the music, warm up your griddle and blast the furnace. We are going to make it through this winter, one delicious bite at a time!

 

 

Coconut Crusted French Toast

 

1 loaf French bread cut into 1 inch slices

6 eggs lightly beaten

1/2 of a 13.5 can of coconut milk

1 tsp coconut extract

2 1/2-3 C coconut flakes

 

Warm griddle to medium heat and prepare with cooking spray or melted butter.

 

Mix eggs, coconut milk and coconut extract until well combined.

 

Dredge sliced French bread through egg mixture and then through coconut flakes.

 

Place on griddle and cook, flipping several times to ensure that it cooks evenly, until egg coating is cooked through and coconut begins to toast. 

 

Coconut Syrup

 

1 stick butter
1 C sugar
1/2 C milk 

1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp coconut extract

Combine first 3 ingredients in a medium sauce pan. (The syrup will more than double in size when you add the baking soda, so a medium sauce pan is necessary.)

Bring just to a boil over medium heat.

Remove from heat and whisk in remaining ingredients until syrup is light and fluffy.   



Status Report

Nothing ever goes away

until it teaches us what we need to know.

                                                              -Pema Chadron

 

 

The first few weeks of the New Year have gone by in a flash. I have been really busy with work and trying to squeeze in some last minute fun with the fam before my kiddos headed back to school. But now that they are back in school I am ready to spend more time with you and this crazy journey.

 

First up, I just want to tell you all how much I have been enjoying my "A Year Without Scales" challenge. I know that I am getting smaller, not because the number on the scale is changing (I haven't been on the scale since the end of December), but because my clothes are looser! Pants that used to give me a lovely "muffin top" now rest nicely on my hips. My shirts are baggier and I have so much more energy. 

 

It has been hard not to climb on the scale after noticing those small changes, but I have resisted so far. I don't think I have lost enough that anyone will really notice yet, but I'm still truckin' and so hopefully soon. 

 

I have been reading a wonderful book by Deepak Chopra called "What are you hungry for?". The whole premise of the book is to ask yourself what you are truly hungry for. If you are filling a hole in your heart with food there is no way that you will ever be satisfied. If you are eating because you are bored, again you will not find the satisfaction that you need in the food you are eating. So now, before I eat I scan my body to make sure that I am really eating for fuel instead of eating just to eat and I'm also stopping before I become too full.

 

I have also been making small changes that will lead me to my ultimate goal. But with these changes I am also giving myself some wiggle room. A friend posted a FABULOUS article that has really stuck with me. It was all about how resolutions set us up for failure from the very beginning. The author talks about his own goals and he states that had they been resolutions he would have pushed himself past the breaking point and ultimately would have failed. With resolutions we either "do" or we "don't" and as soon as we "don't" we throw our hands up in the air and give up. By having an ultimate goal in mind and working towards that goal every day it isn't so black and white. 

 

I've broken my changes down to small weekly tweeks in my routine. During the first week of the New Year I gave up caffeinated soda (cold turkey). Last week I was more mindful of my eating. This week I am getting back into a good yoga routine. With all of the craziness that has been going on at work, it has been hard to squeeze it in, but now that I'm not drinking caffeinated soda I am waking up on my own around 5 or 6 every morning which gives me more than enough time to squeeze in some yoga. 

 

With these tweeks I know that at any time I may not be perfect with them, but just because I am not perfect today doesn't mean I won't be perfect tomorrow, and with the big picture in mind, one non-perfect day doesn't need to derail my progress. 

 

Lastly, I have a clear picture in my mind of who I will be at the end of 2014. I heard an interesting piece on NPR not too long ago that spoke to how our brains receive messages. One of the hardest things to remember is that our brain speaks a foreign language. The person who was interviewed described being stranded in a foreign land and needing to find a restroom. If you don't speak the language you could ask someone over and over where the bathroom was and you may never find what you are looking for, but sketch a quick picture of a toilet and you would quickly be pointed in the right direction. So instead of saying words to your brain about how you want to change your life get a clear picture of how you look, act and feel in that new life and you brain can be your biggest ally.   





A year without scales...

You have been criticizing yourself for years, and it hasn't worked. Try approving of yourself and see what happens.
Read more at http://www.quoteswave.com/picture-quotes/342530#eoma1OFIgAmmyiWV.99

You have been criticizing yourself for years,

and it hasn't worked.

Try approving of yourself and see what happens. 

                                                                                                 -Louise L. Hay

 

 

It happened just over a month ago. My youngest daughter was sick and I was fairly certain that she had Strep. So I bundled her up and drove out to an after hours clinic. When her name was called, we stepped back behind the doors and were quickly whisked away for vital signs and weight. As she stood there looking at the "torture device" she asked me in the softest little voice, "Mom, should I take my shoes off".

 

Luckily, this is a practice that I gave up years ago. So I quickly retorted, "No honey, it doesn't change anything". But the sting was still there.

 

My hope is that she was just asking if there was a proper way to step on the scale. But my fear has gotten the better of me and I have been examining and reexamining that scene to sniff out anything that I may have missed. My fear, and the fear of so many Mom's out there, is that my perfect little lovie believes that her value is somehow tied to the number that appears on the scale and by removing her shoes she will get a better number.

 

I grew up in the age of eating disorders. My parents and my friends parents were trying to balance the media "ideal" with the plethora of fast food options that were now available all the while helping us create a healthy body image, something that prior to this time apparently just happened. We were surrounded by models that claimed the way to happiness was a size 2 and ads that claimed that happiness came from a red box with a smile on the front of it. Most of us emerged slightly shell shocked on the other side of adolescence.

 

I fell into the majority that, at least for a time, tried to purge. (Just writing that word, I'm surprised at how neat and tidy it seems compared to the harsh reality.) Luckily for me, I was blessed with an iron clad stomach and was never successful, so I never became part of the group. Something I desperately wanted, but of course looking back I am grateful for that blessing in disguise. 

 

A lot of attention has been placed on the media lately as people begin to realize that so much of what we have thought to be real (because pictures don't lie) is in fact fake. Those little rolls that appear with natural movement are photo shopped or airbrushed out. Wrinkles are removed, natural skin tones are softened to the point of a cartoonesque quality.

 

I am so glad that I am raising my girls now instead of back when my parents were. I have tried to use words that build them up and make them feel powerful instead of words that make them examine themselves in a harsh light. And now I have proof of what is real and what isn't. When we flip through a magazine we point out where things look fake or phony and I hope it is helping, but I think there is more that I need to do.

 

My girls, and my boys, need to see me loving all of me. To be honest, the only time I have felt completely comfortable in my own skin (except, of course, for those years when I didn't realize that I shouldn't, we will say from birth to 5) was when I was pregnant. I loved the sweet roundness that moved under my skin. My hips and thighs dissolved under a blanket of expectations and no longer held my focus. It was bliss.

 

It has been a long time coming, but I am finally there again. I love all of me! My yoga practice has probably done the most to help me appreciate everything about me. I love the way my toes splay and shift as I stand in tree pose. I love the strength of my thighs as I slide into side angle pose. I even love the way my skin touches as I arch back into warrior one, because that is reality, because I'm not airbrushed.

 

I think it is time though, to take one more GIANT step forward and step off the scale for a bit. Even though I love me, I have been giving too much power to the little black box that merely announces the relationship between the gravitational pull of the earth and my mass. It has the power to take a good day and shade it with self doubt and belittlement.

 

So, as the only New Years resolution you will hear from me for the year (there are others, but I'm choosing to keep them to myself), I resolve to put the scale away for a full year and see if approving of myself day in and day out does more for me than the constant echo of a number has for all of these years.   

Because I am not that number on the scale. I am so much more and so much less.  

Gingerbread Waffles with Buttered Rum Syrup

Christmas waves a magic wand over this world,

and behold, everything is softer and more beautiful.        

 

                                                                  -Norman Vincent Peale

Oh Norman, though I love this quote, I chuckled a little thinking, "man, he must have a REALLY good wife". Yes Christmas is beautiful and soft, but unfortunately it doesn't come with a wave of a wand. It comes from the painstaking, list writing, hand wringing, stress inducing insanity of that lovely woman beside you. I don't think a Christmas has passed since I have "grown-up" that I haven't longed to be a kid again and just "show up" to the magic of Christmas.

 

I always intend to simplify things, but back when I was creating our Christmas traditions I didn't really have an idea of what reality would look like with 4 kids, a hubby, a dog, a big-ole house that I still haven't figured out how to keep clean and a part time job that becomes increasingly busy around this time of year. I always plan to cut back on the "unnecessary" things until the kids ask about those things and they suddenly become necessary, and honestly, I wouldn't have it any other way. Our traditions create a warm and safe place for our families when the world around them can feel so harsh and uninviting. 

 

So, I suck it up and let other things go during the holidays. I may indulge in an afternoon of candy making with my kids and then bring home take out to help balance the mess in the kitchen. Looking back, I think the thing I let go the most are dinners. I am so grateful that other people are willing to cook for me during the holidays! 

 

This morning I wanted to fill my families bellies with a new memory that will now become a tradition. I also knew that I was short on time, so I took what I had on hand and Gingerbread Waffles were born. 

 

Confession time. I will never be the mom who makes pancakes or waffles from scratch. I may find a recipe that I will try from time to time, but on REAL days that include schedules and deadlines you will see me reaching for my Krusteaz mix every time.

 

So with that in mind, here is a yummy treat to serve your family this Christmas morning that is quick and easy so that you can get back to celebrating with those you love most.

    

 

 Gingerbread Waffles

 

Waffle batter of your choice. Enough to make 6-8 waffles.

1/4 tsp cloves

1 tsp ginger

1 tsp cinnamon

1/8 C molasses

 

Prepare waffle batter and stir in remaining ingredients. Pour into prepared waffle iron, the molasses will make the batter a little more sticky, so use the back of a spoon to spread the batter around to the edges. Cook and enjoy.

 

Buttered Rum Syrup

 

1 stick butter
1 C sugar
1/2 C milk 

1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp rum extract

Combine first 3 ingredients in a medium sauce pan. (The syrup will more than double in size when you add the baking soda, so a medium sauce pan is necessary.)

Bring just to a boil over medium heat.

Remove from heat and whisk in remaining ingredients until syrup is light and fluffy.



Why a "cry day" is actually a GOOD idea...

The sorrow which has no vent in tears

may make other organs weep. 

                                                                 -Henry Maudsley 

I remember the day that I started to hate crying. I had been warned by another co-worker that I was being blamed for a "call gone bad". But instead of handling the matter privately, giving me the opportunity to defend myself and let the truth be known, the owner of the company decided that he wanted to make an example out of me because I had been talking to my husband on the other line when things went wrong. He did this by playing the call to my fellow dispatchers and explaining that I was the reason that things had gone terribly, horribly wrong. What he failed to examine was the long standing feud between dispatch and the paramedics which created an environment where neither felt they could properly do their job. Without the feud the paramedics would have repeated the address on their pagers to my partner, something that was expected of the lowly EMT's but not of the paramedics, and they would have gone to the correct Instacare, picked up the RIGHT patient and none of this would have ever happened. Instead my partner simply told them to go to the Instacare, assuming that they had the address on their pagers, and gave them the details of the patient that they were supposed to transport. Long story short they went to the wrong Instacare and because I "took the call" I was being blamed, even though I had entered the correct address and had dispatched the correct paramedic team.

 

As I walked into the meeting I could feel everyones eyes on me. Apparently the word had gotten out that I was the topic of conversation for the day. I had planned what I was going to say, I knew that the truth of the matter needed to be exposed for what it was. I didn't deserve to be the scape goat.

 

But as the call started, all courage, and anger and defiance drained out of my body and all I was left with were tears. I told them to stop the tape, laid down my badge and left the room.

 

The owner followed after me. Again, all I could do was cry. I don't remember our conversation, but I remember feeling how weak and insignificant I was. I couldn't make a single coherent sentence to help in my defense.  I wanted to roar like a lion, but I was running away, scared like a lamb. My tail between my legs, defeated.

 

Crying was now a sign of weakness, it was there to let those around me know that I was an easy target.

 

I have always been sensitive. I cried when a little boy told me that I had chubby legs on my first day of Kindergarten. I cried when my brother was being picked on for being nice to "less popular" kids. I cried when the chimpanzees in the movie "Project-X" were exposed to radiation and died. I cried when I was happy and I cried when I was sad.  

 

I had always just let it all hang out.

 

But now, crying was dirty. Instead of cleaning out built up emotions, I pushed them down and held them in.

 

I still cried, occasionally, but never when I was weak or defeated.

 

Years later I was a NICU nurse. I cried at every delivery I ever attended. My favorite deliveries were those where I could wrap up a healthy baby and hand it over to an excited but scared mom. When the baby needed some more attention from the NICU team the tears were short lived and I quickly got to work doing the things that the baby needed to survive. I could justify these tears, because they were happy tears, but they did become a bit of an inconvenience. Soon I was pushing down the happy tears. 

 

When I first started to connect the dots surrounding my depression anything that even remotely resembled sadness was pushed down to the deepest, darkest parts of my soul. I was on survival mode. If anything stirred up that pot of tears I removed myself from the situation and pushed the sadness down further. Tears were now associated with this dark place in me that stole my zest for life, that left me failing as a wife and mother. If they weren't a part of the equation I felt just a little bit better.

 

What I had forgotten is that those tears are there for a reason. It's as if they hold that emotion and release it into the world. An emotion that is pushed down and held in has a way of festering inside of you, making you uneasy and brittle. 

 

Several months ago I heard a conversation on the radio where the host was talking about her "cry days". The co-host thought she was nuts, he was a guy btw, and asked anyone else out there to call in if they too had "cry days". The reaction was AMAZING and something that I was so grateful to be a witness to. There were other sensitive souls out there, like me, who needed that release of emotions and if they weren't getting it from their daily lives, they would induce that release in the privacy of their own homes. 

 

I had never tried a "cry day" before but thought it might not hurt. I was still a little scared that crying would make me spiral even deeper into a pit of despair, but at the moment I was pretty down and was hoping for a little glimmer of hope.

 

So, I pulled out the iPad and started searching for anything that would help me with some happy tears. I found videos of soldiers reuniting with their unsuspecting families, sappy proposals and videos of people walking for the first time following horrible accidents. It was kind of funny in the beginning. I was acting like I was crying, but nothing was coming out. Maybe my pipes were clogged from all of the years of non-use. By about ten minutes in it happened. I was sobbing like a baby. Not a cute baby mind you. I was crying like a booger filled gorilla making horrible gasping sounds following each new wave of tears. It was really ugly folks, but it was also so incredibly beautiful.

 

I was allowing myself to feel again. The whole time I was afraid of the repercussions of these emotions, but I was also so relieved that the tiniest bit of these emotions were now being released out into the world instead of being bottled up inside of me.

 

Guess what happened next?

Nothing.

I didn't feel weak or insignificant or that I had failed. If anything I felt like I was a little bit more whole. That by letting go of my emotions something else could now take it's place. Something that was light and airy instead of dark and heavy.           

I haven't looked to see if there is any "scientific" backing for my findings, but I do know that it helps me feel better. So I will continue to have my "cry days" and will slowly find my way back to happy.

Eggnog Syrup

Gifts of time and love

are surely the basic ingredients

of a truly merry Christmas. 

                                                                  -Peg Bracken
 

When I think of Christmas, I am immediately transported to the flavors that make up the season. Those treats that are special and unique to this time of year. Growing up that meant: pfeffernusse, a German Christmas cookie that was a sweet gingerbread ball rolled in powdered sugar, it was crunchy on the outside and chewy in the middle; stollen, a German Christmas bread that hallmarked the candied fruit made famous in fruit cake, something I still haven't acquired the taste for; and everything pepperminty or eggnoggy.

 

Since breakfast is probably my very most favorite meal to prepare, I knew this holiday season wouldn't be complete without mixing up a new syrup recipe that incorporated some of these flavors. I have long been a sucker for eggnog. It is just one of those treats that I can't pass up this time of year.

 

This syrup recipe has been adapted several times to meet the season and my current craving. It started out as a simple buttermilk syrup recipe with a splash of vanilla and a dash of cinnamon. My friend Holly shared it with me almost 10 years ago, and my life hasn't been the same since. I have used the basic recipe to make coconut syrup, rum syrup, lemon syrup (which is delicious over ginger pancakes) and so many others. If I have a breakfast craving, I know how to satisfy it!

 

This is a great way to share a gift of time and love with your family. Serve up this delicious, quick and easy syrup drizzled over hot, crunchy waffles and breathe in all that the season has to offer.

 

 

 

Eggnog Syrup

1 stick butter
1 C sugar
1/2 C eggnog
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp vanilla 
Dash of nutmeg and cloves

Combine first 3 ingredients in a medium sauce pan. (The syrup will more than double in size when you add the baking soda, so a medium sauce pan is necessary.)

Bring just to a boil over medium heat.

Remove from heat and whisk in remaining ingredients until syrup is light and fluffy.

 



and so I saw a shrink....

Don't believe everything you think.

                                

In the beginning it made sense to believe my thoughts. My thoughts, I argued, were me and why would I lie to myself. Out of the billions of people in the world, the one person I should be able to trust is me.

 

In the beginning my thoughts were there to cheer me on when I didn't have the confidence to stand in front of my class to give an oral report. My thoughts were there to help me find my loveable parts. They were there to support my intuition as a grew into motherhood.

 

But slowly, those words of support and praise melted into a thick sticky pot of doubt and belittlement. I knew that I shouldn't trust the thoughts that contained words like "always" and "never", I could quickly see through the lies of these statements. I knew that I wasn't "always a failure" or that I "never got anything right", but when those voices started personalizing their insults they were much easier to accept. 

 

When I started to compare my life and my house and my family to those around me, it was easy to think that they all lived in a fairytale, especially with the advent of social media. People would post pictures of their perfect family in their perfect house or on their perfect vacations. I didn't just envy the things they had, I started to think that they knew the recipe for the magic potion that kept everything in order. Instead of trying to learn from what they were doing, not realizing that most people only post pictures or leave status updates when everything is peachy, I quit trying.

 

After I gave up, the voices settled in and really had a hay day. They turned my feelings into facts. They made it easier to blame others for what was happening around me. They filled my mind with "should's, must's and ought's".

 

At one of my first counseling sessions my therapist gave me a workbook that probably did more to help turn around my funk than any other thing I have tried since. The things I do now are supportive and help me maintain a happy mood, but without the workbook none of the supportive measures would have done a thing.

 

It starts out with a "Daily Thought Record" in which you monitor your feelings throughout the day. When you feel bad or unpleasant you describe the Event surrounding those feelings. For me, the first time I used the DTR, I came upstairs from working a particularly challenging shift at work (thank you Super Storm Sandy) and discovered that our house was a mess. In the interest of "keeping it real" and because I love you, here are a couple pics I took the morning after that blasted day.

 

 

(seeing them again...I do feel a little justified in my emotions, but I'm also grateful that something as silly as a messy house doesn't have the same power to drag me down as it used to) 

 

The next section asks you to describe the emotions surrounding the event or the Impact of the Event. I felt frustrated and sad because now I had to either clean it up myself or I would have to sit on my kids until they did it. Talking them through every step, refereeing arguments, keeping them motivated, knowing that I could clean it up by myself in about an hour or two, but asking 8 little hands to clean up their own mess meant a whole day ordeal that would most likely end in tears (theirs and mine).

It then asks you to Rate the Intensity of the emotion on a scale of 1-10. I was at a 7. Probably not my worst day, I wasn't ready to wake everyone up at that very moment and insist that they pick up their things before they could go back to bed (something that though I have been tempted to do on several occasions, I have had the wherewithal to resist) but I wasn't ready to let the emotions roll off my back either.

Next you are asked to analyze your thoughts. Within your Initial Responses, describe the automatic thoughts or self-talk. Then rate how believable it is from 1-10. My initial response was,  "I am the only one who ever cleans. If my family really loved me they would clean up after themselves and I wouldn't have to sit on them until they did. I must not be teaching them correctly." Luckily, even at this stage I knew that my thoughts were nowhere close to the truth. 

Here comes the fun part. There are several different ways in which we lie to ourselves on a daily basis that contribute to depression or a feeling of low self-esteem. They are called thought distortions. 

During this experience the thought distortions that I was experiencing were Assuming (I assumed I knew the motivations of the people who created the mess), Fairytale Fantasy (I believed that everyone else lived in perfectly maintained castles that were constantly and immaculately clean), Overgeneralizing (even though I knew better, the "never" and "always" beasties crept up on me), Dwelling on the Negative (instead of coming up from my shift and recognizing that a messy house meant that my family LIVED in my house and were busy making memories instead of being little maids, I decided to focus on the negative), Catastrophizing (it was a messy house, I wasn't a failure and neither were they), Personalizing (instead of allowing others to take the "blame" for the mess, I blamed my parenting) and Blaming (I blamed my family for my bad mood). Phew...that is a whole lot of crazy talk if you take a step back from it. But these were the battles that were raging in my mind EVERY day. 

After you take a step back and categorize you thoughts, it is now time to create a Reasonable Response. "Change the distortions to more reasonable thoughts. Rate how much you believe each from 1-10". A much more reasonable response to a messy house is, "When properly motivated and supervised my children are fabulous cleaners. They show me that they love me not only in the little acts of service that they do for me, but also with their gratitude, smiles and hugs. I do my best to teach them, lovingly, how to care for themselves, their things and others.". This reaction is much more accurate and believable. I rated it a 9. 

Finally you analyze the Results. "Based upon your Thought Analysis, rerate how much you believe your initial responses. Then rerate the intensity of your emotions". My initial response was a distortion of the facts.

After you have analyzed your thoughts and dissected them to this level it is much easier to have a handle on the emotions associated with your thoughts. That doesn't mean that I don't still get upset by a messy room or when things don't go according to plan, it just means that when I do get upset I don't spiral into a pit of despair. I don't believe everything that I think.

I was so grateful to realize that not everything that I think is fact. There are some "facts" running around in there that I would love to be true, but these hurtful distorted thoughts no longer (or at least most of the time) don't have power over me.

And because I'm not really ready to let the whole world in on my imperfections, this is what it looked like after I got a few hours off of work and really kicked it into high gear. (The kiddo's were a great help, and the tears were kept to a minimum) 

 

ps...I will try to find out more about the workbook my therapist gave me. She just gave me copies that she made from her book. I think they are excerpts from a book called, "The Self-Esteem Workbook", but on the info that I have it doesn't indicate an author (and I would love to give credit to those involved in this work of perfection). So I will look into it and get back to you :) 

Strawberry Honey Butter

October’s poplars are flaming torches

lighting the way to winter.
-Nova S. Bair

I don’t know what it is about fall, but it brings me in. It holds me tightly with memories of trick or treating as a kid, the hot smell of the candle flickering inside my beautifully carved pumpkin cooking the flesh just enough to add its aroma to the already perfect evening. It reminds me of crisp autumn nights as I unpacked my belongings into a sturdy, warm dorm room that sat at the mouth of Logan canyon, the wind whipping around its edges creating mini snow or leaf filled tornado's. It reminds me of riding the shuttle over to the student center for a hot slice of bread with apple butter or raspberry honey butter. I had a car, but I would usually trade in the solidarity of a morning ride by myself in Crunchie the Love Cockroach (my pet name for my little Toyota Corolla because it made a lovely crunching sound anytime I cornered to the right) for the warmth and camaraderie of the shuttle.

Last week, as that autumn chill brought back those memories, I just couldn’t shake the craving that I was having for a little slice of my past. I considered driving 3 hours round trip, not including time to revel in my wanderlust, but as I scanned our calendar I knew that a quick trip would be a selfish indulgence that I just couldn’t justify for the day. So I set out to create a happy little pause button that would keep the cravings at bay until I had time for the trip.

This recipe could easily be adapted to any fruit you have on hand. After I finished up the pictures my mind started racing with ideas of different “butters” that I could try. The possibilities are endless. Since Thanksgiving is just around the corner my mind leaped to ideas that incorporated my favorite fall flavors. What about a pumpkin honey butter or an orange cranberry honey butter. I think both of those will have to be a part of our Thanksgiving feast, spread generously across a warm home made roll.

If the flavors you want to try aren’t in season, frozen fruits can easily be substituted. I made strawberry honey butter and a tropical honey butter with mangoes, pineapple and strawberries. They have both been gobbled up by my family. My kiddo’s have loved spreading them over their toast, crepes and waffles. I feel good that they are getting a little extra fruit into their days. The best part, it stores well in the refrigerator for up to a week in a sealed container or up to 6 months in the freezer. So you can take a few minutes today and enjoy it for several months to come!

 

 

Strawberry Honey Butter

 

1 c strawberries hulled and sliced

2 Tbsp honey

1 c butter softened, at room temperature

 

In small saucepan, over medium heat combine strawberries and honey. Heat until boiling, stirring constantly. Cool to room temperature, stirring occasionally to speed up the process. In blender or food processor blend strawberry mixture until smooth and then fold in butter until it is well blended.





just a little bit broken....and that's okay!

I have come to realize

that caring for myself

is not self indulgent.

Caring for myself

is an act of survival.

                                  -Audre Lorde

 

 

Hello friends! I have missed you so much and am so glad to be back. Our computer died a couple of weeks ago and it has taken a while to get the new one up and running. I am grateful for those few weeks, as they gave me some time to be a little more introspective. I learned so much about myself that I am so excited to share. So let's jump right in.

 

While I was away I read a great article posted in the Elephant Journal that really hit home. It is about a Hindu goddess named Akhilandeshvari. Her name roughly translated means "the never, not broken goddess". Upon first inspection the idea of being constantly broken is scary, but Akhilandeshvari derives her power from this constant flux of falling apart and picking the pieces back up again. Never getting stuck in toxic routines because she is never together long enough to stay there.

 

The author points out that one of the scariest parts of our lives are in those moments where we are lying broken, on our bedroom floors after a major shift in our lives. Whither it is a breakup, the loss of a job or the loss of a loved one. The hardest part to overcome is rewriting our future plans for ourselves. At the beginning of any relationship or job or circumstance we all create a manuscript of how we think things will play out. When things don't go according to plan that manuscript is shredded before our eyes and we are left to pick up the pieces and try to make sense of the new path all the while using what bits and pieces we can gather from the old manuscript to construct a new one. Losing that vision of our future is terrifying.

 

"But look, Akhilanda says, now you get to make a choice. In pieces, in a pile on your floor, with no idea how to go forward, your expectations of the future are meaningless. Your stories about the past do not apply. You are in flux, you are changing, you are flowing in a new way, and this is an incredibly powerful opportunity to become new again: to choose how you want to pull yourself back together. Confusion can be an incredible teacher - how could you ever learn if you already had it all figured out?" -Julie Peters

 

For the longest time my ultimate goal was to heal myself of my depression. I thought that if it crept up again, and I found myself in a pile on my floor that I had ultimately failed...again. So when those feelings do make their appearance, in any form whither it is a sad thought or actually breaking down and crying, I feel like a failure. Not only am I sad that I am experiencing these down in the dump feelings, I am sad that once again I wasn't strong enough to keep the feelings at bay.

 

But, if I know that depression is a part of me and that I will never be "not broken" the insult added to my injury will cease to have power over me. I can allow the sadness in, discover what it is trying to teach me and move on instead of sinking deeper because I have failed.

 

If you have a piece of china that has a crack in it, let's say it is a mug that's handle is being held to the body with a fine line of glue. You treat that mug differently. You don't pick it up with the gusto you would a mug that didn't have an "imperfection". You treat it gently and gingerly. You focus on the "imperfection" so as to prevent further damage.

 

Knowing my "imperfections" and knowing that there will always be the threat of some pretty dark days looming, I know that I have to treat myself gently. I need to be prepared to pick myself up off the floor over and over and over again. Which is exhausting and wildly exciting all in the same breath. I also need to focus on that part of me that is broken and create a plan to keep it from breaking even more. So here is my list.

 

In the coming weeks I will explain each one of these a little more, giving some of the "science" behind my decisions and I will link back to this post for easy referencing.

 

1) Eat healthy delicious food that nourishes my body and gives it what it needs.

 

2) Practice Yoga and meditation daily.

 

3) Use my "Happy Light" to help ward off seasonal affective disorder.

 

4) Get additional nutrients through supplements, the sun and soaking my feet.

 

5) Have a "cry day".
http://nomastoday.blogspot.com/2013/12/why-cry-day-is-actually-good-idea.html

 

6) Build my net.

 

7) Limit social media.

8) Weed through distorted thoughts and discover the truth. http://nomastoday.blogspot.com/2013/11/and-so-i-saw-shrink.html

 

These are the things that I know I have to do to keep the glue in place, and when the day comes again (which it ultimately will) that the glue just can't keep me together any longer I will get the opportunity to pull my pieces together in a new way, creating new routines and new experiences.



Roasted Tomato Soup

"A world without tomatoes is like a string quartet

without violins."

-Laurie Colwin, "Home Cooking"

 

Growing up I hated two things that were good for me, fish and tomatoes. When I took a health class in high school I realized the importance and benefits of incorporating these two beauties into my diet. It took years to change my opinion and palate, but I am slowly coming around. I started by ordering hamburgers and leaving the tomatoes in place instead of discarding them the instant they arrived on my plate. I'm still working on fish. I have trained myself to like lobster, crab and shrimp, but learning to like fish will take a little more time. Whenever I am near an ocean however I feel like it would be an insult if I didn't give it another try. I ate Mahi Mahi for the first time in Hawaii when I was 11 and really enjoyed it. This past March I had some of the most amazing salmon I have ever tasted while at an awards dinner, for work, in Orlando. It takes baby steps. If I had this tomato soup as a kid, I have a feeling my thoughts about tomatoes would have changed ages ago. It is a far cry from the preservative packed can variety and is almost as easy to prepare.

15-20 large ripe tomatoes, cut into 1 inch cubes
1 leek, chopped and rinsed thoroughly, white end only
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 Tbsp olive oil
1 tsp salt
1/2 tsp pepper
1/2 tsp thyme
2 c chicken broth
1 pint heavy cream
 
Preheat oven to 400.
Place tomatoes, leek and garlic on cookie sheet.
Drizzle with olive oil.
Roast for 30-40 minutes, turning every 10-15 minutes to prevent burning.
Remove from oven and puree in blender or food processor.
For a smoother texture, strain through a sieve into a sauce pan.
Over medium high heat, combine tomato mixture with salt, pepper, chicken broth, thyme and heavy cream, stirring constantly.
Continue cooking until soup has thickened to desired consistency.