May 2010 Archives

Oh, you're darn right it's a recipe!

When I started on my quest for Clean Eating, I had a couple of things I had to give up. One being my remarkable coke habit. Okay, I live in the Midwest now, so perhaps I should clarify when I say coke, I mean soda. I don't have a cocaine habit. But if I did, that would be Clean, right? Pure, unrefined? So anyway, back to my Diet Coke habit. I have a great love and admiration for carbonated beverages.

About the same time I replaced my sugar with Sucanat, my Splenda with Agave, and my white flour with whole wheat flour, I came to the bitter and sad realization that I was doing all of this work and still eating a hole in my stomach with the acid, carbonation and not one single clean item in my cokes. Damn. I've attempted to replace the cokes in the past with orange flavored drink that's similar to Tang. But that's not clean either. What to do? What to do?

The thing is, I don't like water. Water, in my opinion, is way overrated. I need flavor.
I remembered that my coach served us up water at her place with cucumbers in it. Some fancy restaurants do that. So, I tried it. The first sip was refreshing. The rest of the sips, uh, not so much.

Someone told me that if you do a slice of lemon and a slice of lime, it's good. Something balances out and the lime takes the edge off the acidity of the lemon. So, I tried that. Nope, doesn't work for me.

And then I thought about oranges. Fortified with vitamin C, not too acidic. I love oranges. I'll try it. BINGO! WINNER! WOOHOO! I've been drinking water with orange slices in it for well over a month now. I'm sold on it. It's delicious, not overwhelming. Just the right amount of yummy flavor. And it's clean. I'm drinking more water than ever before. I've kicked my coke habit - well, the diet one anyways. I still snag a diet coke every now and then, but I'm down to one a week. If that. I heart my water with oranges in it. I workout with it, I take it grocery shopping, everywhere.

It's a lovely conversation piece too. Everywhere I go, people say, "Oranges in water, I should try that!" Yes. You should. So, here's my tip on oranges in your water. First of all, wash your orange before you sliced it up and put it in your water. Then, I slice an orange in half. Put one half in the fridge for later. Slice the ends off the other half, and then slice that half into about 4 slices. Add water, y'all. Voila. I tote mine around in a water bottle all day. You can just keep refilling water over the same orange slices all day.

I prefer this lovely "recipe" in a water bottle. That way, the oranges don't obstruct your water when chugging. But I also don't like a traditional water bottle. I found this really cool water bottle with a pop off top. That way it doesn't suck your lip off everytime you go to take a drink. However, I ran over that water bottle the other day. So, I'll be purchasing a new one soon.

I recently discovered that you don't want your water to get hot. Ick. That gives it that sour orange taste. Also, when selecting your oranges, find the thick-skinned oranges that are a bear to peel. They hold up in your water better. I've tested all kinds of oranges. These work the best. And yes, if you can find them, organic oranges are even yummier, sweeter, and hold up longer.

I realize this recipe is orange slices and water. But you'll be surprised at how much you talk about it - just like a recipe. I hope you try it for a summer refresher! Let me know how you like it.

That's how I roll.
Song of the Day: Coming Back to Life by Pink Floyd

This is my new favorite wardrobe. It's like a full body girdle. And it makes you buoyant and keeps you from a little bout of hypothermia. Functional AND fashionable!

Julzholla! and I did another triathlon! This time, we challenged ourselves with cool new things like open water swims which necessitates a cool new accessory: a wetsuit. It turns out, putting your face in a pool is slightly different than putting your face in a lake to swim. I suppose there's no line to guide you in your lane. If there is a line painted on the bottom of a lake, you can't see it. You can't see 2" in front of you. That, and they didn't turn the heater on in the lake. It was 60 degrees. I know you people think that the air temp of 60 sounds lovely. And to you I say, "Shut it." And then go take a bath for 10 minutes in 60 degree water. Let me know how that goes for you.

We were so nervous about the swim, we really didn't care much about the rest of the race. Just getting on the wetsuits in front of 800 other athletes was a victory for us.

But we did it! I was nervous about getting crawled over. Thankfully, we only swam over people, we didn't get swam over. Sometimes you're the windshield, sometimes you're the bug, y'all. Staying on course was a bit nerve racking and I didn't put my head in the water for the first 50 meters. Swimming freestyle with your head out of the water is like driving with the brakes on. So, eventually, I put my head in the water and kicked it in. I was shocked when I got out of the water to see I'd done 500 meters swim in 9:14!

And then to my least favorite: the dreaded bike. I don't know why. And I'm not okay with just accepting that I just suck at it. But still, haven't trained hard enough or found any joy in biking. I'm still working on it. The course was straight out 8 miles and straight back. Shouldn't be too bad. At mile one, I went to get a swig of water, and when I put the water bottle back in its cage, I dropped the bottle. Woops. Oh, and then ran over it! It was a big bump and I was so thankful that I didn't crash from running over my water bottle. Because with me, that's more than possible. It's plausible. Based on my little bike computer, I was rocking out some serious speed. Maybe I'd finally conquered the bike after all! I was going 25 mph with slack in my pedal on flat land. This is awesome! Yay me! My first clue should have been that even though I was going super fast, I was passing no one. Interesting. I didn't catch on until I got to the turn around at 8 miles. And that's when it hit me. Literally. The wind hit me. Wow. This was different than gusts. This was incessant wind. Uh-Oh. It took me 20 minutes to go 8 miles out. It took me 45 minutes to come back the same 8 miles.

The problem I have with triathlons is nature. I'm not really a fan of nature and all of her elements like heat, cold, wind, and rain.

I guess the ride was rough, because I started to see things. I mean, this time, I really tried to just focus on straight ahead and not stop to admire the scenery so much. It turns out that "Hey, look, isn't that pretty!" doesn't really jive in the world of triathlons. But I was moving so slow, I couldn't help it. And at some point, I thought I saw a hedgehog perched on a tree stump. But it turns out it was just a tree stump cut at an angle, and what I thought was the hedgehog was actually the center of the tree.
And I swear to you, an angel in the voice of 2pac himself said to me: "Mmmmmm HMMMMM. Girl, when the wind is at your back, you best recognize!" Absolutely, 2pac. Hey, did you see that hedgehog back there?

How true is that? I really thought I was something special, going 25 mph and all. It was the wind. When you're going downhill, or getting pushed by 25mph winds, take advantage. Seize that moment.

So, I made it back. And the kids were packing up the car to come search for me. Kidding! Those little suckers were there and ran with me from the transition to the run course. And when they stopped, and I kept going only to start a large uphill climb, I heard Lucy shout "YOU CAN DO THIS MOM!" Ahhhh, and theres the wind at my back again. I best recognize. And then I finished, upright again.

That's how I roll.
Song of the day: Hold On Be Strong by 2Pac

Remember when we weren't going to do sports anymore? Yeah, well, I've found something that will keep them busy and wear their butts out for the summer. Track & Field, y'all. If this is a competition on smartest Mommy move ever - I win.

Even better, the track club we found has a try before you buy program. You can attend as many practices as you want. So, Max and Lucy went to 5 practices before I ever had to write a check. And for each practice, I asked the kids if they liked it and wanted to join the track club. And both kids responded with a resounding "YES! WE LOVE IT!" all five times.

Then I wrote a check, and filled out all that painful paperwork. They are official track club members and card carriers for the USTFA (United States Track and Field Association). And lo, Lucy decided she doesn't want to run track. She went on to explain that she's not fast enough.

Well, considering she runs like Phoebe from Friends (titled "The one when Phoebe runs" 1999) and although she's never seen me run, still is the exact replica of me running: talking while jogging. And just like me, she starts running, and looks around and tries to engage with other runners as if to say, "Hey there! You're running and I'm running too! Isn't this fun!? Wanna talk about your feelings!?"

I've solved my running/talking problem with listening to rap music in my own little magic land of ipodness. I run with angst, and I don't bother anyone else. I don't really think that's the solution for Lucy. Yet. What age is appropriate to make your kid a sweet playlist of rap? I don't know.

I gave Lucy the "I paid for it already. You had your chance to bail. You're in this for the rest of the season" lecture. She pouted and then got over it.

After the next practice, she gave minimal griping. But then I remembered we needed to get their uniforms. Because Max kept reminding me:
"Mom, when do we get our outfits?"
"Outfits? For what?"
"For track club. Don't we get outfits or something?"
"Oh, uniforms. They are uniforms, not outfits."
"Well, fine. When do we get our UNIFORMS?"

Good idea, Max. The uniforms will motivate Lucy. This is what's going to sell her on track. They get uniforms. I'm thinking a tank and shorts maybe. But no, even better. They get little windbreaker jackets and pants too. We went to pick up the uniforms, and they got little track bags too. Too cute!

Lucy decides to wear her jacket, because it's May in Omaha, and it's 40 degrees, after all. So, she tries it on. And I'm thinking this will be the big sell, that she'll like track and learn to focus and strive to run faster. I'm driving home from the uniform pick up, with glee and daydreaming of her winning her first race with determination in her eyes. Standing on her podium, giving me the thumbs up and saying, "Thanks Mom for encouraging me to stick to it and...."

"Hey Mom! It's got pockets! Cool I can put some of my Pet Shop toys in here!"

And exit daydream. Enter reality.

We get home and Max can't wait to try on his outfit uniform which includes a true track and field tank top style. I guess he got it on and then off quickly. And instead of seeing it for myself - in an effort to be less of a control freak -I simply asked him how it fit.

"Good. Except the shirt (the tank top) kinda shows my boobs."

Without batting an eye, "Max, you don't have boobs. You have a chest."

Bet you don't get the opportunity to explain life lessons like this in soccer. I'm just sayin.

That's how I roll.
Song of the Day: Ya Gotta Have Pep by John Lithgow

It's amazing that this tree and I even survived this winter.

This is one of my all-time favorite recipes. I haven't made this in a while, but now that it's grillin weather, the avocadoes and romain lettuce halves shall flow abundantly here! We love this one at our house! I make it too often. But I've given Max and Lucy the "YOU WILL EAT WHAT HAS BEEN GIVEN TO YOU" speech so much, they just go with it. Still, we all still like it.

I've even taken it to a cookout at JulzHOLLA's! "You want me to GRILL lettuce?" Yes. I. Do.

And seriously, y'all, Rachael Ray is the greatest food idea engineer ever. This is her recipe. I do love me some Rachael Ray, but am NOT jive with anchovy paste. Fish paste? Ew. Still, there's very little deviation from this recipe. So, instead of rewriting it, I'll make my notes as we go.

Rachael Ray's Grilled Romaine with Caesar-Cado Dressing
Taken from The Rachael Ray Show which aired Sept. 3, 2009
Ingredients

* 1 small avocado, pitted Yeah, I can't use just one. I use 2 or three.
* Juice of 2 lemons
* 2 teaspoons anchovy paste Uh, no way. I just don't even consider it.
* 2 cloves garlic, finely chopped or grated
* 1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
* 1/4 cup grated Pecorino Romano cheese Or just Romano or Parmesan will work too
* Salt and ground black pepper
* 1/4 cup EVOO - Extra Virgin Olive Oil, divided
* 2 large romaine hearts, split in half through the core
* Nonstick cooking spray
In the bowl of a food processor, combine the avocado, lemon juice, anchovy paste (looking away), garlic, Worcestershire, cheese, salt and lots of pepper. Pulse the machine to chop everything up then leave it on and stream about 1/4 cup EVOO into the mixture until a thick dressing forms. Reserve. I usually thin it out a bit more with extra lemon juice or EVOO
Step 2 This is the crazy fun part. Watch the look on your man's face when you send a plate of lettuce out for him to grill.
Pat the romaine hearts dry, spray the cut sides and grill, cut side-down, until marked, about 2 minutes. Serve the grilled romaine topped with the Caesar-cado dressing.

You will wow your masses with this gig. Give it a try and let me know how you and your family liked it!

That's how I roll.
Song of the Day: We Will Walk by Matisyahu

The other day, Ricardo and I were up at the school. Maybe I AM up there ALL THE TIME. We were waiting to watch the kids' program. Parents were filing in. It was first thing in the morning, so we had to listen to the announcements, and then stand up and say the Pledge of Allegiance. I can't remember the last time I said the Pledge. But in typical "I don't wanna go to the principal's office" I stood up, hand on heart and totally nailed the Pledge perfectly! It's the little things folks.

So, we're sitting down after this fun and beautiful moment of citing the Pledge of Allegiance. And he's apparently seen a parent come in, I guess, leans over and whispers, "The only thing I request from you is that you don't dress like an off-duty stripper when you come to school."

"I never really considered strippers being off-duty. Is there a union for that?"

"I don't know. I'll Google it."

"And it wasn't in the vows that I not dress like that, but I suppose I can add that amendment to our marital constitution, pending this is your only request."

"Fair enough."

Then the show started.

Y'all don't be jealous. You too can have this relationship.
That's how I roll.
Song of the Day: Hiphopopotamus vs. Rhymenoceros [feat. Rhymenocerous and the Hiphopopotamus] - Flight of the Conchords

Okay, it's already Wednesday? Whew! Ever have a day, week, month - fine, a year - that flies by? Well, it's just this week for me right. But still, here's a great mix tape. I'll call this my favorite belt-it-out-in-the-car-but-only-if-alone-and-all-windows-rolled-up playlist.
When the Stars Go Blue - Ryan Adams
Brass in Pocket - The Pretenders
The Difficult Kind - Sheryl Crow and Sarah McLachlan
Lucky One - Allison Krauss and Union Station
Nobody Noticed It - Lisa Marie Presley
Tell Me Bout It - Joss Stone
I Run To You - Lady Antebellum
Turn Me On - Norah Jones
Silver Thunderbird - Marc Cohn
Where is the Love? - Black Eyed Peas
If I Had a Boat - Lyle Lovett
Pirate Looks at Forty - Jimmy Buffet
Bad Romance - Lady Gaga

This sounds so fun, I think I'm just going to drive around in the car today.
That's how I roll.

Meet the culprit. She's the one in the group who's a head taller. Just like me. I always wanted a horse named Taco. So, given my odds of owning a horse in the near future, I named my bike Taco. Sometimes we call her the Blue Taco for genius effect like that.

We have another triathlon coming up. If y'all are in Boone, Iowa next weekend, swing by and give us a shout out. You know it's ridiculous weather when the local hard-core triathletes cancel the group swims because it's too cold. I wanted to go and try out my wetsuit. I mean, really, that's not something you want to figure out in the middle of transition one. It'd be my luck to finally get the thing off and then realize I'm commando underneath. Then I'd get disqualified, and probably arrested. So, JulzHOLLA! and I are eager to try out our wetsuits. We're also nervous about swimming 500 yards in a lake.

Up to this point, all of our swims have been in pools where you can see the ick at the bottom, like bandaids. In a lake, you don't have the luxury of seeing anything. We need to get in open water and practice our panic before the triathlon. But the weather is having nothing of it. So,I 've been trying to work on my weakest leg of the triathlon: the tortuous bike.

I even treated myself to a new bike seat with a hole in it. It's a seat for a hybrid, but I don't care about adding weight to my road race bike. I'm pretty sure it's not going to add time to my race. And if it does, it'll be the most comfortable time, and totally worth it. So, after a lenghthy discussion with a chick at the bike store, who by the way, FINALLY a cyclist with a personality - she even laughed at all my lady bit bike seat jokes, she assured me that no one would point and laugh at me. Atleast not because of the bike seat. The seat is more cushion, adding more height, inevitably allowing full extension of my pedal stroke. Whatever that means. I'll skip the details, but the seat with the hole in it has accomplished it's purpose.

JulzHOLLA! and I went for a quick ride yesterday. Mostly because I need to and I have this weird feeling that I shouldn't bike alone. I now know why.

On my way to get JulzHOLLA! I was going down hill and approaching an intersection that - well, I'm just guessing - I should stop at. To stop you have to clip your shoes out. Because you're attached to your bike. It's not a practice I'm good with, nor find necessary, but you have to do it. It's called clipping out. Or if you're getting your shoes clipped in to the pedals, that's called clipping in. Stay with me, these terms will come in handy in just a second.

I went to clip out, and nothing happened. And I thought, "Hmm, I should probably practice clipping out before I'm going down hill about to barrell through an intersection." And then I clipped out and all was fine. I picked up JulzHOLLA! And as soon as we got to the bike path it started spitting rain at us. But we're so tough we thought we'd go just one lap and then come back. We do, and it was a good ride. Good hills. We go to exit the park, and it's a fairly busy street to cross. We have to stop and wait for the coast to be clear.

I clip the right foot out thinking I just need one foot to put down to stop. And you do. However, I leaned to the left instead of the right. And TIMBERRRRRR! Kerplop. If y'all thought there was an earthquake in the Midwest region of the United States, nope, that was just my ass hitting the pavement. In front of all traffic in West Omaha to see. If you saw it, that was me. I'm fine.

JulzHOLLA! is so sweet, she made sure I was okay and didn't even laugh. Something similar happened to her, and I'm pretty sure I laughed. But she's too nice and ridiculously mature. That, and she knows that this falling while clipped in business is some rite of passage in the Tri world. So, she knew Karma would come nip me in my butt....the left side. And it did.

We made it home, and I told the kids and Ricardo about my little spill and how I got back up, but I'd probably have a pretty cool bruise.

So, that night, I was reading in my office - the bathtub, when Lucy came in. Lucy likes to talk to me while I'm in the bathtub. Perhaps it's because I'm her captive listener there. I don't know. But I remember doing the same thing with my sister. We always had our best childhood chats while one of us was taking a bath. Is that weird? I dunno. Still, Lucy came in to chat. I was almost done, and stood up to get out of the bathtub and saw my bruise.

"Hey! Check out my bruise!" I say. She checks it out but isn't impressed. It's not a giant blob bruise. It's this weird line. Kind of like a fault line on Google Earth. Still, she's not impressed. Maybe she's a little shocked at the location. So I lighten up the shock and eye blinding with, "It's on my BUTTCHEEK!" Because they love the word buttcheek right now.

Then I panic and remind her, "But at school you don't say buttcheek, right? You could say lower hip, or rump, or tush. Right?"

And Lucy says, "I'd call it the hill on the mountain."

Nice. I don't know if she meant that to be cruel, interpretive of my already lumpy butt, or a simply reality. Either way, we both laughed hysterically.

My hill on the mountain is healing just fine now. I'm pretty proud of it now.
That's how I roll.
Song of the day: Moneymaker - Ludacris

It's fun Friday at our house today. So, here's our breakfast. I know....we're OVERFUN, right?

Tonight, we're having what we refer to as Spaghetti Sammiches. "WHAT!?" You say, "You were all high and mighty with your clean eating and we've all been waiting, hoping for you to grace us with another clean recipe. And you're sandwiching a carb with a carb!?"

And to you, I say, "Yes. I. Am."

Consider this a flexible falling off the clean eating wagon. Although, I've cleaned this recipe up as much as I can and the kids and Ricardo have no idea.

Have you ever wondered why they serve bread at most Italian restaurants when you're getting pasta? No? Just me? Well, we've added function to form. Should we ever open a restaurant, this will be our signature dish.

Since I'm a total amateur. And since this blog is how I roll, you're getting this recipe Leslie-fied. This is how I'd tell my friends (Y'all) how to do it. I don't mess with a list of ingredients because that's a waste of white space, and really, you should always read a recipe all the way through before you start. So, here you go:

Friday Night Spaghetti Sammiches at Momontherocks House:

This recipe is fairly simple, so go with measurements as you deem fit. If you're feeding 4 or 14, I dunno. Just effn go with it.

Boil 100% Whole Wheat Spaghetti per the directions on the back of the box. Brown up some ground turkey breast -We use it in an effort to fight them cholesterol bastards. And really, the kids have no clue. Do yourself and your butt and your cholesterol a favor and try it. And yes, it's more expensive, but consider your co-pay and your potential prescription for Zetia. Just try it, for Pete's sake. Okay, so brown up your ground turkey breast, and throw in a dash of cumin for that smokey meat taste. Just a little bit. Like a 1/2 teaspoon per pound of ground turkey meat. Grab a jar of spaghetti sauce and pour it in a large sauce pan. And yes, we use the organic, no sugar added, as-clean-as-we-can-get-it jar of spaghetti sauce. As clean as we can without actually having to make it ourselves. It's Friday and I have very important entertaining to do. I don't have time to make it homemade tonight. Drain your ground turkey breast and mix it into the sauce. After your spaghetti is finished cooking, drain it and throw it in a big ol serving bowl. Keep your sauce on warm til you're ready to serve it up.

Here's the sammich part. It's going to blow your mind. It's so technical. Get some 100% whole wheat bread. Or if you're feeling super clean, some Ezekiel bread. We usually do a piece of bread per person. Ahem, sometimes two pieces for the grown ups, because uh...we're bigger...and all. Throw the bread slices on a cooking sheet. And slab each piece with some butter. Sprinkle garlic salt over that. And then...y'all ready? Get your colby-jack bag of grated greatness out and throw down a layer on the bread. Throw that goodness in the oven about 400 degrees till the cheese melts.

"That's cheesy garlic bread, Leslie, what's the big woop?"

Well, fancy pants, the big woop happens on the plate you nay-sayer.

So, throw the spaghetti sauce over the spaghetti in the bowl. Get your cheesy garlic bread on a plate. Yell at your kids to turn the damned tv off and wash their hands that dinner's ready and they better appreciate it, dangit.

Okay, if you haven't figured this very technical plan out yet, here you go. Hold a piece of the cheesy garlic bread like a taco shell, serve spaghetti in to the garlic bread. Eat quickly. It's a big mess. Max and Lucy suggest that the messier, the better.

I usually make my kids eat serve green beans and a salad with it.

That's how I roll.
Song of the day: The Nearness of You - Norah Jones

I try to make my pals a good mix tape for their kids. Usually the criteria is fun, cool, not Disney or Barney, inspiring and/or silly. So, here's my pick for today. These are some of my and the kids favorites:
My Favorite Things - Nathan on the For the Kids Too! Album
Wild Child - Enya
Reggatta de Blanc - The Police
Only You - John Lennon
Blackbird - Sarah McLachlan
Once Upon A Time...Storybook Love - Princess Bride Soundtrack
Unwritten - Natasha Beddingfield
Jai Ho - A.R. Rahman
The Lion Sleeps Tonight (Wimoweh) - The Tokens
C is for Conifers - They Might Be Giants
A Thousand Miles - Vanessa Carlton
Put Your Records On - Corrine Bailey Rae
The Middle - Jimmy Eat World
Where is The Love? - Black Eyed Peas
What a Wonderful World - Louis Armstrong

There's more. Lots more. But that's how we roll today.

This is my happy relaxing place. There's no stones. No ponds. And my eyeballs are right where they need to be. I'm just sayin.

Remember when you got a sub in school? Everyone usually enjoyed the break in the monotony of class. Well, I was at the gym the other day, and I'm on a complete schedule. I even have JulzHOLLA! going in on my demands.

Monday: Run and Yoga
Tuesday: Really cool swim class and then swim laps
Wednesday: Spin Class
Thursday: Run & Lift
Friday: Swim
Weekends: Free for all with whatever fits in our family's schedules.

It's a good schedule allowing for atleast one day off with our crazy schedules. But the one day I try not to miss is Run and Yoga day. I like the yoga instructor. She's real, helpful, and makes yoga a complete weight-bearing workout. She's not all crazy granola-chick with her shakras and all that. She is the perfect yoga class. I heart her. I rely on her class and her greatness.

So it's Monday and JulzHOLLA! and I finish our run, and head to yoga. What? Where is our instructor? A SUBSTITUTE! Dang. Who? Oh God. It's the woman who wants to save me. I resist, and consider bailing on this half of the workout, or maybe Zumba , or swimming with sharks instead of an hour with this class.

I give JulzHOLLA! the look, like, "I really don't want to be here. Please don't make me do this." And I'm just about to start stomping my feet and shouting, "I DON'T WANNA! I DON'T WANNA! YOU CAN'T MAKE ME!" But I'm trying to be a good workout partner and we need to do yoga, or something. When one of the voices in my head suggests that I shouldn't make such harsh judgments and maybe I should keep an open mind and try it.

So, I give in and we go in and set up our yoga mats. I'm feeling all better about myself and my willingness to not hold a grudge. And then the aforementioned sub walked in and started talking. And all that good feeling got really weird.

I'll never listen to THAT voice in my head again. I mean, I was trying to be less of an asshole. But I think it's only affirmed my original judgments. In the middle of a downward dog, I get JulzHOLLA'S attention and mouth, "I hate you." Not nice, but I think effective. She won't persuade me on this one again. She's very influential on me. But I think I'm right on this one. Don't believe me? Well, I wrote down some of the stuff she said. I would also like to suggest what I'm about to say is what my momma says is the pot calling the kettle black. But the sub did not stop talking the entire time. Weird coming from me, I know. But also weird since she lectured me in a previous class for talking to much. And yes, I realize she's the instructor. But I got 55 minutes of yoga and phrases like, "Pubic Synthesis" or something about a position of a sacrum and then, "Yes! Yes! Yes, That's it!" I'm not even making this up. And then, "Don't assume I'm crazy. Teach your muscles to talk to each other."

My personal favorite was at the end of my RELAXATION yo. I'm in my favorite pose: corpse pose. And I get incessant talking that is supposed to lead me into some peace or something. A meditative and contemplative state, right? I'm not even making this up: "Imagine your eyeballs are soft polished stones that you drop into the back of your head and they fall into a shallow pond." What? "And the drop into the back of your skull, see the rings of water they create." I blocked out the rest of it by screaming expletives to the voice in my head that told me to come to this class.

I realize I have very specific preferences for the classes I choose to attend and the instructors. And I'm sure, some people prefer yoga with over zealous references to their sacrums. It's just not for me.

I should have stuck with my assholeness and judgments. Lesson learned.

That's how I roll.

Song of the day: Mahna Mahna by Cake

Today, I stand in unity, committed to laundry. Clean laundry AND no wrinkles. It is a bold and noble task, lo, I am willing to kick some laundry tail.Today I will fold laundry as it dries. I will not wait until all the clothes are piled up, clean, and wrinkled. I will hang up the hang up clothes with great speed and veracity. I will separate into darks, reds, lights, whites and bleach loads. I will make a proactive stand to bring down hangers so that I don't make a giant pile of hanging clothes that starts laid out but inevitably wrinkles from the sheer weight of that many effn hanging clothes. I will move the ironing board so as not to hip check it everytime and then wager if the wobbling will spill the iron. I will put them up so to make a clear path through the laundry room. I will give thanks for having a laundry room to do such noble deeds I will clean out the lent catcher each load. I will do 48 flights of stairs with great ease.I stand before you today, with great dreams. Dreams of getting the laundry washed, dried, folded, hung (I hate that word), and put away. I am committed to a clean tv room with no laundry baskets and clothes lingering in gigantic piles. Dude, I've totally got this. Carry on my good people. Carry on.

That's how I roll.
Y'all know what's coming right?
Song of the day: wait for it...wait for it... Dirty Laundry by Don Henley
As if you didn't see that one coming from a mile away.

I call this one Flowers From Lucy. Did you know that if you stick a white carnation in a glass of water with food coloring, they'll change colors? I didn't. These kids teach me crazy fun every day.

Ofcourse, being a mom is what sparked this brilliant blog to begin with. So, here's year one, two, three, four, five, and six happy mother's day posts. And here's what I have to say about being a mom this year:

Being a mom is horrifying. It is gross, condescending, empowering, and inspiring. It's mind-boggling, exhausting, it's fattening and intriguing. And that's just a typical Monday at my house. Nothing makes you accountable more than a kid. It's eye opening experience of the shallow asshole you are and a big can of woopass that you better buck up to be the better person you must work to become. Mother's Day, to me, is a celebration of all that my kids hold me accountable to be. Which is pretty fabulous! I'm just sayin.

I'm throwing this out quickly, because I have lots of very important Mom things to do. Well, not really. I have some fun family stuff planned. Today's agenda involves writing, a three-mile run, shower, pick up kids early, go to graduation for my sister-in-law, kids to sitter, night out with my man. Tomorrow we are going to Gramma's Birthday. Happy Birthday Gramma! Then Sunday, JulzHOLLA! and I have a test swim in the wetsuits and in open water. And what was that other thing? Oh yes! MOTHER'S DAY! I'll be needing to celebrate that, because I don't know if you've heard, but I'm a mother. So it must be my day. Right?

This year I had a list for Ricardo of Mother's Day gifts. Shopping for me is not difficult. I have an ongoing list of very important things I need right away. This very moment's list is:
A new fancy bike seat with a big hole in it.
Body glide. Sounds kinky, I know, but it's for the wetsuit. Still, maybe that should be a gift from Ricardo for our anniversary and not so much Mother's Day.
A new mixer. Now, I know appliances are not a good Mother's Day gift. However, pending a direct request from said mother, it's totally okay. I have a glass bowl on my inexpensive mixer. And I like to slam the mixing spoon thingies on the bowl to get all the batter off before I lick them. So, I might have chipped the glass a few times. That can't be good. And glass in brownies would be a travesty. I'd chew through the glass to continue the flow chocolate, but I'm sure I'd regret it later. Clearly, Mama needs a new mixer.
A facial at a fancy spa here in town. That one's just for fun. I thought I'd sneak it in there.

Then I picked up the kids from school each day this week, and every day they mentioned these super secret projects they were working on for Mother's Day. It has been very difficult for them to keep whatever it is a secret. They've slipped a couple of times, but I play like I'm not listening. It's not difficult to pass over on them. I'm just sayin. Still, they were working so hard on these gifts. I didn't want all their hard work overshadowed by my luxury gifts I'd requested.

So, I pulled all reigns on gift purchasing this year. It's going to be the best Mother's Day ever.

Song of the Day: (You Make me Feel Like) A Natural Woman - Aretha Franklin

By Clean, I mean, clean by my kids' standards of a clean room: there was an attempt, but still a few things to clean up.

Max requested Mac-N-Cheese. I'm certain he was looking forward to that boxed crap I finally tossed from our pantry. So, I eagerly promised the kid I would make him wholesome goodness from scratch. He winced and considered retracting his request, but I think he was curious if I was going to flub this one up.

I looked up several clean recipes, and then cranked up my ipod on my spiffy new kitchen stereo - a kitchen appliance requirement - I've decided, and I went to work with my own recipe. So, I think it's pretty clean. If not, it's healthier than the crap in the box. Right?

Mac-N-Cheese on the Rocks
2 cups 100% whole wheat elbow macaroni
1 cup plus a little extra skim milk
1/4 c. whole wheat flour
a little grind of nutmeg (a little bit goes a long way here, y'all)
1 8oz bag of grated sharp cheddar (that's the less than clean part)
A handful or two of whole wheat panko crumbs

That's all. I opted out of butter. I was apprehensive to do so. But still, it rocked. So here's what you do:
Boil your macaroni per the directions on the back of the box. Drain it. Throw your flour in a bole & grab a whisk and whisk in about 1/3 of the milk. Get it all mixed up - no lumps. Then keep on whisking the rest of the milk in. Grate some nutmeg and add salt and pepper and whisk all that up, then pour the mixtrue into a medium pot and heat on medium while continiuing to whisk constantly. Once the milk gig is warm, start stiring inthe cheese in intervals of handfuls. A handful - then whisk while it melts. Then after it melts, throw in another handful.

Aw, yeah! Do you see the great cheeseness in the pan in front of you!? Wholesome Goodness, I say! Okay, now back to work.

Off the heat and throw in your cooked & drained macaroni. Stir all that up and then put it in a greased (with olive oil or Pam spray) casserole dish. How big you say? Big enough to hold all that macaroni...doi.

Then in a small bowl, get a couple of handfuls of the panko and a handful of grated cheese. What? You used all the cheese I told you to already? I know. Just grab some of whatever you have. I used all my sharp cheddar too, so I grabbed whatever was in the fridge which turned out to be colby jack. A harder cheese like Parmesan or Romano would be good too. It's not rocket science, folks, which is why I'm able to do it. Mix that up and sprinkle a yummy layer over the macaroni & cheese already in that casserole dish.

Admire your work. Then bake it in a 375 degree-preheated oven for 20 minutes. After that, I broiled it to get that toasty brown gig on top. However, be warned - you throw anything on broil - stick around and keep an eye on it. Or you'll be eating burnt cheese. And why would you ever destroy all that cheese goodness you just worked so hard for?

This tastes nothing like any boxed version. So, your kids won't be too sure of it. But they'll be wowed and intrigued. And again, if you're like me, they'll eat it. Because you cooked it. It's what's for dinner, dammit.

After I made this, I remembered a tip I meant to try. I read it somewhere. So, I'll share: you can bake the Mac-N-Cheese in muffin tins. Then do the sprinkle of panko and cheese in each muffin tin. The kids would love their own little serving like that. So, we'll try that next time.

I served this up with some steamed broccoli. I asked the kids if they wanted me to throw the broccoli in to the Mac-N-Cheese. They said no. Well, really they exclaimed, "NO!" But they appreciated me giving them a choice. I hit a bite of Mac-N-Cheese with the broccoli, and it was a great fork combo.

Another idea - I have an Ina Garten recipe book and she puts tomato slices on top. It's a great combo of flavors.

Lucy gave this recipe a thumbs up.

Max gave it an "Ehhhh. It's okay." Which is better than gagging, suggesting he's allergic to it, or throwing it at me, I guess. And then the next day, he asked if he could have the leftovers. I win!

So, try it. Let me know if you liked it and if your kids ate it.

That's how I roll.

Song of the Day: Recipe for Love - Harry Connick, Jr.

I still make mix tapes for my friends. Y'all don't do that? Well, I make cds now because the guy at the 80's appliance refurbishing store told me to give up on tapes - that even if I had my own tape player, if I made tapes, no one else could listen to them. Good point. So, I thought for Wednesdays, I'd make y'all a Mix Tape. It's a playlist of what I've been listening to this week. Let's start with my workout playlist. Right now, here's a sample of what I'm running to. If you need a little kick in your run or workout, feel free to check this out:
We Will Walk - Matisyahu
Good Mornin - Kanye West
Paper Planes - MIA
Imma Be - Black Eyed Peas
Lets see how far we've come - Matchbox 20
My Chick Bad - Ludacris
Shake It - Metro Station
Shake - Ying Yang Twins
Live Your Life - T.I.
Empire State of Mind - Jay Z
Superstar - Lupe Fiasco
Tell Me 'Bout It - Joss Stone
Hey, Soul Sister - Train
I Run To You - Lady Antebellum
Love Game - Lady Gaga
Independent Women Part II - Destiny's Child
Work it (Remix) - Missy Elliot
Champion - Queen Latifah
Stu's Song - Ed Helms

I think Stu's Song wraps it all up for me. Next week we'll go with my Minivan American Idol tape mix. Happy Wednesday.
That's how I roll.

This was on the door at the ballet pictures. The sign is great. That it's necessary to create and order and have it printed in bulk is a bit alarming, don't ya think?

I went to get tickets for Lucy's ballet recital while she was in ballet class, and noticed that on the bulletin board was a memo I'd had emailed to me but half-ass read. And there it was: Ballet 1A hair instructions. I knew that part. That's the half of the ass part I'd already read. Underneath that, however, was something I'd embedded in my brain that was optional. It turns out it was not:
Makeup instructions: pink blush (Okay that's doable), pink eyeshadow (a little much but I can swing it) with brown in the crease (Okay, they are seven right? And I can't do the brown in the crease for my own face.), black or brown mascara (WHAT!?), bright red lipstick. (Sorry - no.) The song Send in the Clowns blares through my head.

I polled the moms.

I explained to Lucy and told her that she didn't have to wear the make-up if she didn't want to. I explained how pretty she was in her own perfect porcelain skin. She wanted to wear the make-up, and what was mascara? She wasn't sure about it. I told her we'd do a test run and see.

If she was to continue dance, I'd probably balk at all this setting a consistent tone for "Mommy all the other girls are doing it" arguments. But just knowing her attitude about it all - "We're doing this ONCE, y'all. We're gonna kick it's ass!" I can handle it. The make up argument isn't worth the fight.

So we thought we'd let her have this make up experience once. Okay, twice: once for the pictures, once for the recital.

I decided to get her own mascara. And then, per the instructions, of course I didn't have the required eye shadow. And I was going to have to find a nice rose lipstick, because my Mary Kay Downtown Brown was not going to work. And I was not going to put on the assigned red lipstick either. I'd just have to find a good shade for her.

The other problem is, well, I barely know how to put on make up on my own face. And I'm guessing the pros out there would agree - make-up is not my forte. "Step away from the child, we'll handle this." No one came in and said that - wait - there WAS a professional make-up application you could pay someone to put her make-up on her. But if I'm paying for a make over, it's for ME. So Lucy, bless her heart, just let me put her make up on.

It wasn't too bad until we did the eye shadow. Why did I need to put brown eye shadow in her crease again? Too much. Even Lucy said so. And then I used my blush, which looks very pink and cute on me. However, she has lighter skin. And she's SEVEN. And with the mascara, the 30 year-old eye make-up scheme, and the rose-ish lipstick, well, she looked a little bit like one of those Toddlers In Tiara's commercials I roll my eyes at and think, "What were their mom's thinking?" Oh God, that's me. Dangit.

By the time we'd gotten all the make-up done, there was no time to erase and start over, and we headed to the pictures. We opted to not use the brown and suffer potential chastising and consequences. I had her tone down the lipstick by blotting most of it off and putting a light pink shimmering gloss on. It seemed to help a bit. No one said a word about no brown in the creases. So that's good.

The picture day was a mad house of mini adult supermodels running around in their tutus. Some of the kids didn't wear make up. What!? That was an option!? None of those moms mentioned that when I polled them!

I was really concerned Lucy was going to love this make-up thing. She frolicked and acclimated into the mirror check and fixing the lipstick and then playing tag gig with the other girls.

They got their picture taken, we got in the car and she sighed heavily and then said, "Mom, can I have the wipies? I want this make-up off NOW."

Turns out she hated it. And little Miss Lesson in Self-Confidence says, "This stuff does NOT make me feel pretty." And then, "When is our next track practice, Mom?"

I know Lucy needed to do the make-up to fit in and to fill the void of curiosity. And she to learned this one on her own. She taught me a few things about beauty too.

That's how I roll.
Song of the day: Melody of You - by Sixpence None The Richer

This weekend, JulzHOLLA! and I did our first triathlon of the season. That's right. We are now bonafide, card carrying members of USAT and we have "seasons" now. As you can see, we're upright and smiling at the finish line. So, I've ruined the end of this story for you.

Our registration packets didn't have a lot of swag in them. What is swag you say? I know, I wondered too. Swag is all the fun stuff - tshirts, gadgets, lip balm, and whatever this stuff is. I just liked the catch phrase on it up top: "The Ultimate Skin Lubricant and Chamois Cream" If you're a real athlete, I guess you don't immaturely point out the humor in such a marketing technique. But I did! We also got these cool dri-fit tshirts with the Supermanish logo on them. It was the Siouxperman Triathlon, so the supermanish emblem and theme song was fun.

We rode up with a new friend - Anne, and our pal - Kathy. Kathy is an elite triathlete, an eliter kind and generous person. She's given us some lessons on swimming. I'd call her our triathlon coach, but that would insinuate that we do what she tells us to do. She makes some great suggestions. But then one of our kids gets sick or we have to volunteer at the school or something, and we don't quite ever make that adjustment to our workouts. That we make it to a workout is really a success story. Anyways, Kathy was helping us air up our tires on our bikes. She might have been appalled that I didn't remember the last time Ricardo had aired up my tires. So, like a mom tying our shoes for us, she took time out of her preparations to help us air up our tires. My bike first, then JulzHOLLA!'s. That's when we heard what I thought was the gunshot to start the race. Which would have been weird because the race didn't start for another hour and twenty minutes. The gunshot was a tire popping.

It was kinda like when you're in high school and someone drops their lunch tray - it was inevitable that it would happen, but everyone was looking to see who to point and laugh at. This was a little more supportive, but sounded like 300 participants mumbling, "DOH!" Including me. I think I probably even said out loud, "Aw, poor guy, how embarrassing." Like, someone doesn't have an elite triathlete helping them with THEIR tires! And then the guy next to me pointed out that it was my tire that had popped. What?

Thankfully, there was a bike guy there. His name was Dave. And he was happy to help me and cooperate fully in my Triathlon photo essay. It turned out I had a pinched tube. That sounds gross, I know. I made a joke about it. Dave laughed. And then he fixed my tire for $5.

When we got there an checked in, we checked our swim times. They'd done a flipparoo, having the slower times go first, then the fastest times would go last. Kathy was not too pleased about this. But really, it makes sense - and all that Algebra really kicks in: Leslie leaves at 11:56. Elite athlete, Kathy leaves at 12:47. Kathy runs a one-hour triathlon. Leslie runs a two-hour triathlon. Who finishes first? Well, I did, but Kathy finished less than a minute after me. As a matter of fact my bike split-time was 3 minutes faster than Kathy's entire race!

It makes sense to do it this way, most people finish roughly at the same time. Whereas, I take off AFTER all the elite athletes, there's an hour gap in finish time, and the car picking up the cones to clean up the race is following me. The winners have already accepted their awards and there's no more burgers at the "participants" all-you-can eat post-race luncheon. But the way they were doing it today was great for me!

Still, we had 3 hours until we started our race. And so JulzHOLLA! and I deduced that we'd need to eat again before our race. I also realized that I'd only had one cup of coffee. I wasn't too sure a caffeine headache would be a good thing in the middle of my run, so I grabbed another cup-o-joe and this delicious overgrown oatmeal cookie. It has sea salt sprinkled on top of it. Different and fantastic.

This is JulzHOLLA! and her nervous look. We were starting to feel a little anxious when it was time to head to the pool. Kind of a "Why do we do this again?" type of irrational thinking. I was nervous too, or maybe it was that last cup of coffee I'd just downed. And then, before you know it, you're in line to jump in, and then you're doing it!

When I was swimming, I was thinking, "I should workout in the pool more."

I made my transition to the bike fairly easily. I was nervous about my new bike, being clipped in, and now my tires. But I was just dumb enough to go 8 miles out on farm roads anyways. The ride out seemed like the wind was pretty harsh. I thought I'd heard people talking about the ride being easier on the way out, and then harsh on the way back in. But this was pretty hard. And my windbreaker jacket was ballooned out. So, I stopped at one of the turns and asked a couple to take my jacket.

"I don't need it back. But it's like a parachute in this wind. I don't want to throw it on the side of the road, will you take it? PLEASE!" They took it for me and must have checked my number, because it was back on the transition rack when I got back.

I turned the corner and the wind hit me. Hard. I'm still on the way out. And it's a head wind. So, surely the it'll be a tailwind on the way back in. The bike is much easier with my new road race bike. Still, I'm getting passed. Dammit. And then I got to the turnaround, aptly displayed with a sign and an ambulance with the lights on. "Oh good, you're here for me!" The turnaround is exactly halfway, and it's at the bottom of a hill. I had to clip out to turn - I have no sharp turn skillz and wasn't really in the mood to wreck another participant. So, I clipped out and turning around was tough. Oh, there's the wind they were talking about. The wind gusts were up to 36 mph, I checked when I got home. In between the gusts, I guess it was a constant and measly 20 mph gig. I couldn't get a drink of water for fear that one-handed, I'd blow over. I almost blew over twice with two hands on the bars.

You know it didn't seem like I was going down hill on the way out. However, on the way back in, it's nothing but uphill, with the wind almost stopping me. I did manage to pass a guy on a mountain bike who was pedaling so hard and not moving, it almost looked like his chain had come off his bike. But it was just that hard. And as much as I wanted to stop and make sure the guy didn't need help, I was super happy to actually pass someone. I was so sick of getting passed. The elite athletes who started an hour after I did were now starting to catch up. Oh God, if Kathy catches up to me and passes me, I'll be humiliated. And will she be mad at me? I dunno.

I was almost there. One more little hill. I looked down, a gust of wind, 6.5 mph. That's how fast I was going. This is almost as embarrassing as that whole tire pop gig. By this point, I'm cussing myself out. "MOVE THE EFFN BIKE, LESLIE! JUST MOVE THE BIKE!" I finally made it back.

Now I have to run 3.1 miles. Never in the history of me, have I ever been so happy to run in my life. I'm a solid 10-minute miler. But after that bike, my legs were shot. Still, I did it in 30:12! So, I was proud of that.

I crossed the finish line, grabbed a sports drink, and turned around in time to watch Kathy come across the finish line. She never caught up to me, but she was dang close! JulzHOLLA! came across the finish line, and when she finishes, I feel like I do too. It's our gig together. It's a big celebration when we can hug, each so proud of ourselves and each other. We did it! We effn DID IT, y'all!

Kathy ended up winning, uh, the WHOLE thing. Then she loaded up all of our stuff and drove us home. I'm in awe that the woman can win something like that, and then humbly play chauffeur to the two chicks in the back giggling over accessories and rather than discussing racing techniques, we're discussing the lunch we got to enjoy this time.

So, here's our road tripping team! JulzHOLLA!, Me, Kathy, the winner/chauffeur and Anne. Anne finished this race after an eleventh-hour clearance from the doctor for a PUNCTURED LUNG and blood clot! WHAT? WHAT!? I know, right? I'm out for a month if I get a bruise, and this lady is running a triathlon. It was a fun experience. But something wasn't quite right. And then I realized that I missed my kids being there.

I know I do these races for me. But deep down, I do it for the kids too. I think it's good for them to see their mom setting a goal and they get to see me accomplish that goal. They selflessly wait and play, and wait, and wait, and wait for mommy to come rolling by on her bike, then run and they cheer me on.

On the way home, Kathy mentions that we have our next triathlon in three weeks. I want to throw up. I need about a day to recover and get excited to do this all over again. Kathy only needs a slice of pizza to recover. I like her style, but I still needed to sleep on it. so, now my legs are jello, my hope renewed. Three weeks til our next triathlon, our first open swim. Get ready y'all - we have wetsuits! I'm looking forward to Ricardo and the kids being there to cheer us on.

That's how I roll
song of the day: My Chick Bad - Ludacris (EARMUFF YOUR KIDS)