Boring Can Be Fun

Oh, hey. Didn't see you there. Because I wasn't here until just now. It's been a minute or two since I've hung out with you here, right? Oh? Five and a half months? I'm just going to awkwardly laugh and pretend that's nothing. Nothing! Sooo, how's your mom 'n' 'em? How are you? Goooood, gooood. Glad to hear it. Oh, me? Let's see, I'm doing pretty well. What's new since last we spoke? Patrick and I have done a good bit of work on our house primarily funded by the sale of his Jeep. We've painted (translation: he's painted), gotten trees cut down and brush cleared, updated light fixtures, and some other small odds and ends. We used some of that Jeep money to buy a replacement car, too. We were highly productive during January and February until... I had another baby in early March. Had I mentioned I was pregnant? Yeah, we flew in to the hospital on two wheels when, as it turns out, I was fully dilated and ready to go, p...

Listen. I'd like to put this delicately. I'd like to sound humble. But I can be real with you, right? Lately? I've been kicking butt at life. Domestic life, anyway. For the past few weeks, I've been SUCH a little Suzy Homemaker. I've been doing things like "cooking meals," "staying on top of the cleaning," and "doing laundry." During the week , even. Normal Life: I DO NOT DO THINGS AFTER WORK EXCEPT COOK (if I must), EAT, AND GO TO BED. Oh, and child care. I do that, too. And TV. But, New Domestic Success and Fun Good Times Life ?: I'M AWE-INSPIRING. Are you not, dear friends and random readers, sitting there at your internet-connected device thinking, "Wow, this blog should be renamed 'Boring is Unbelievable.' Does she mean to say?--does she actually think I believe?!--that she not only cooks food, but also cleans and does laundry? Pish posh!, I say. Pish posh and... and... poppycock!" I hear...

I'm so flipping fancy. That's what I wanted my interweb friends to know when I posted the filtered, instagrammed version this picture: Let's be honest: the only reason I posted this photo is because I was so proud that I made such a divine and impressive looking meal. That's what the internet is for, after all: bragging. In case you can't tell, this is salmon en papillote (the fancy French way of saying salmon in paper) with a maple balsamic sauce, a blended sweet potato soup, and spinach. You can call it a spinach salad if it rings your bell, but it was only raw spinach with dressing on it. I feel there ought to be at least one other ingredient to try to call it a salad. Did I just whip this up with no guidance whatsoever? Not a chance. I totally followed a recipe. But man, can I follow a recipe! With a meal this snooty and fabulous, you cannot just eat it off of your everyday dishes. Non! This is not an everyday meal! This was definitely a wedding...

It's official. We're less than 3 months away from Christmas. Less than 3 months from trimming the tree. Less than 3 months until Charlie Brown Christmas and Rudolph and all the good, old programs come on TV. Less than 3 months until the holiday party season. Less than 3 months to shop for gifts for the ones you love. Less than 3 months to save for those gifts. Less than 3 months to get cocktail dress ready. So what does that all mean? Obviously, we have to start the pre-season diet and exercise plan so that you look perfect in that LBD that you'll never actually wear to a single holiday party. We also need to get a shopping list going so we know what we want to get for whom--then never look at it again or lose it in a pile of junk mail. And we have to start saving all our pennies so we can buy gifts for other people and somehow end up keeping 30% of it for ourselves (I mean, we do have good taste), thus having to go shopping again for the people who no lo...

This one feels a like a bit of a ramble to me. You've been warned. On my birthday last year, I announced that I had a baby in my belly . This year, I'd like to announce that I had a Food Baby in my belly. Yesterday I turned 32 years old. (Don't cry for me, Argentina.) To celebrate, I took the day off work, spent too much money on clothes for my daughter, and ate, ate, ATE! And, it was soooo good. Allow me to describe for you my journey of sugar and delight: My husband, my knight in shining glasses and (sadly) Gator gear, left the house at 6:30 in the morning just to get some Krispy Kreme doughnuts for me. Healthy? HA--not on your life. Delicious? HA--you bet your life. Then for lunch, he took me out to Kool Beanz where I had bay scallops in angel hair pasta and an Orange Blossom beer. If you ever have the distinct pleasure of being in Tallahassee, I highly suggest them for lunch or dinner or, most deliciously, Sunday brunch. Lobster mac 'n' cheese... nom. ...

A week or two ago, I saw an article that was basically a round-up of celebrity breastfeeding pictures. "It's so natural!" "You shouldn't be ashamed!" "It's a part of who I am now!" "Look how beautiful breastfeeding is!" Okay, those aren't direct quotes from the article or the celebs, but if I recall correctly (and I probably don't) that's the basic gist of what some of these lovely, famous, boob-bearing ladies wanted us to know: that breastfeeding is the thing to do. Then, a few days later, I saw a news segment on the local TV station about a woman who put together a flash mob to raise awareness of breastfeeding. I'm not sure what it is about a flash mobs that is supposed to make me think, "You know, the fact that they're suddenly and unexpectedly dancing in public makes me realize: breastfeeding is better than formula," but kudos to them for trying. If I may be serious for a moment (and I may,...

Happy Monday! Now, let's talk about Friday. When my office instituted a "jeans Friday"--the one day of the week denim is now acceptable--I jumped on board wholeheartedly. I'm not sure why it's so exciting to wear jeans to work. My jeans are no more comfortable than my slacks. Perhaps less so. But something about wearing jeans makes you think you are more comfortable than you really are, so I do it because I value thinking I'm comfortable above all else. This past Friday as I sat at my desk working furiously, efficiently, and without wasting any time (maaayyyyybe) , I noticed a white spot on my otherwise dark denim. Ahh... spit up. I forgot to check for that when I pulled these jeans from the bottom of my dirty clothes hamper to put them on that morning. Fancy girl, right here! Well, if you're going to wear dirty spit up jeans to work, you might as well work it, right? I had my cute sweater with the cute scarf and the cute flats to go with my cut...

As you may have noticed (or more likely, haven't noticed) I've been a little M.I.A. lately. Why? Lemme tell you something I don't know if you've ever heard before: getting ready to have your first kid is distracting as h-e-double-hockey-sticks. I mean, nothing super crazy has been going on, but I'm too busy looking up "signs of impending labor," watching birth videos, and doing prenatal yoga to do things like write Boring blog posts and try to be funny or even just a little Fun. I've just realized that I've also been too busy to remember to put on deodorant this morning. Oops. A quick sniff test tells me I won't offend anyone today, so I'm going to say it's all good. Since I've last given you one of those exhilarating glimpses into my life, here's what's been going on. 1) Childbirth classes. With videos. Detailed videos. You also learn about lots of disgusting terms: mucous plug, bloody show, lightening crotch, rin...

There are two things that I am: Boring and a little Fun. There are several things I wish I were: totally cool and healthy and one of those people who are like, "Yum, farro and lentils is my favorite dish ever!" What is farro? According to NPR , it's an "ancient and complicated grain worth figuring out." Obviously, then, it's only for the cool, smart, healthy people who have time to figure out the deep, complicated psychosis of this noble grain. As it turns out, I'm not quite up to "farro-level cool" yet, since I don't have a degree in Psychology with a specialty in Understanding Complicated Grains. But I'm totally down with lentils. That scores some cool points for me, right? (Wrong. I know. Totally wrong.) Why do I tell you this? I'm not sure. I like pointless details. I assume you are totally interested in my feelings on lentils. Or maybe, I guess, because of the following tale of culinary triumph. The Night I Was Not D...

Friends and family, I have a few things that I'm really pleased with myself about, and I'm gonna brag. Why?   Because. I. Can. Saturday: We successfully completed our grocery shopping despite the stupid rain. WIN. Later that afternoon, I made Banana Coffee Cake and did NOT eat obscene quantities of it. WIN. We (and by "we" I mean "Patrick") made a really delicious dinner for 4. It was filling and super tasty. And the whole thing probably cost us $15 in ingredients. Saved money by not eating out. WIN. Sunday: I actually cooked and ate the kale I bought the day before. For breakfast. That's an obvious WIN. I didn't want to work out, but I did anyway. For a full hour. That's the first time that's happened since probably January 2013. WIN. Our friends invited us over for Shepherd's Pie. I did NOT greedily and gluttonously inhale seconds, even though I badly wanted to. Why? Because I wasn't hungry any more and potatoes a...

A new book out called "Grain Brain" says, basically, that carbs are rotting our brains. I read an article about this book on my favorite British website, Daily Mail.  But, of course, any doctor who claims that even oatmeal -- OATMEAL --  is robbing me of my faculties would be from Florida. Naturally. Perry is the center of the world and Florida is the hub of all weirdness. I don't really buy the theory that having the occasional bowl of rice is going to send me into an early decline. However, if this turns out to be true, I'm in trouble. This past weekend I traveled to the Orlando area to visit my college friend, R * , who I never talk to. Neither of us like to make phone calls. We facebook sometimes. And then once in a while we visit and have a blast and talk about the educational system and finances and how fantastic it is to put on PJs as soon as you get home from work. It works for us. Don't judge our relationship. Another thing we do ...

It's been a little while since I've updated you on my precious feline child, Lizzie. Nothing's new. I mean, she's a cat. She doesn't get up to a whole heckuva lot. However, with 6 years of parenting this weird, furry child, I have picked up on some pretty awesome life lessons from her. I think you could benefit from knowing these things, too. How Life Should be Done, According to Lizzie 1)  If you don't work out, be a work out coach. Lizzie knows my dedication to exercise isn't as consistent as it could be. When I manage to start squatting and lunging and planking, she makes it a point to walk right underneath me while I'm attempting these moves. It provides me with some much needed company--a swat at my ankles lets me know I'm loved. It's also extremely helpful in keeping me on my toes. It forces me to perform some spectacularly acrobatic moves to avoid stepping on her while she steadfastly refuses to move! Put it into practice : It...