Safer of just plain lazier?

I was perusing Facebook this morning, which I will admit I do quite frequently, when I came across a status having to do with the apparent redesigning of the hot dog.

That's right, the hot dog, around in some form since the fifteenth century, may be getting a new look due to it's status as a common choking hazard. Now don't get me wrong I know that hot dogs can be dangerous. The only person I have ever seen choking was in fact choking on a hot dog. My brother's toddler lips turned blue before my mom successful unlodged the hot dog from his throat and it's a scene that has always remained in the forefront of my mind when preparing them (the vegetarian version anyways) for my own children. But really this proposed redesign has me thinking only one thing: Will this change make our kids safer or just us parents lazier?

Will selling hot dogs in the shape of dinosaurs or smiley faces make them safer for our children? Perhaps, but what is so wrong with the slice and dice method that parents have been using for ages? And besides there will still be foods that pose choking hazards, which truly can be any food, but what about grapes, nuts and popcorn? Is it only because hot dogs can be altered that the suggestion is being made? And while you're at it APA, why not try suggesting they be made a tad bit healthier? I mean nitrates? The childhood cancer link?

Overall, my biggest problem lies in the fact that a lot of these suggestions made by the American Association of Pediatrics wouldn't even need to be made if parents were more on the ball with their children. I know the American Association of Pediatrics is only trying to inform parents in the hopes of keeping them safe. It seems to me that parents, myself included, are the ones who need to be making changes, not Oscar Meyer.

But alas, if made some people will buy the sliced and diced hot dogs, Oscar Meyer will make more money (because they're bound to charge more for that convenience) and some children, unfortunately, will continue to choke on hot dogs.

Damn that glass looks half empty.

Snack time

Snowy days and Wednesdays

I am just so done with all of this snow, ice, sleet and slush.  Done.  Do you hear me Mother Nature?  D-o-n-e.

I understand that we live in a part of the country that gets four definite seasons.  I am generally good with this, I like to watch the seasons change and it’s nice to have a few cooler months following the warm and humid summer months.  But this winter has just been ridiculous.  I don’t recall seeing any giant acorns lying about but so far this winter we have seen more accumulation in these parts then in any previous winter in my lifetime. 

The weathermen used to cry wolf, threatening us weekly with flurries that never came to fruition.  Now they are always right.  They call for snow and we get it.  Lots of it.  We have had snow covering the ground since December.  December.  That never happens. 

Today’s forecast?  Flurries.  And we’ll probably see some.  And then they’re calling for more snow next week.  In the past I loved getting a good snow once or twice a year.  But then it would warm up a little and melt.  It’s been a record breaking cold winter and the snow is hanging around.  Having everything around us covered in snow, a lot of it grey and black tinged, it’s effect has worn off.  I’m just plain sick of it all.

And if I could get my hands on that little punk Punxsutawney Phil, I’d tell him what I thought of six more weeks of this stuff.  I mean come on, get over your shadow already.

http://bit.ly/iamabitcrazyyaknow

I am having a hard time making it downstairs to the treadmill.  It’s not the distance in feet or the stairs that are making it difficult to get to the treadmill either.  I still handle stairs alright at this age, it’s everything else.  Like the cute little bugger to the side there and his little siblings. 

Today Adobe Photoshop Lightroom arrived in the mail and I am just itching to tear into it.  I had Lightroom before I lost it in the fire when the old Toshiba died last summer but this version was shipped to me directly from Adobe if you catch my drift.  Just another thing to keep me off target and away from the basement.

My hair is still falling out but I’m feeling a little better about it.  First, I talked to a girlfriend who had a baby three weeks after me and she said that her hair is falling out in fistfuls too.  Secondly, I went in for some blood work two weeks ago to have some things checked like my blood count, testosterone and thyroid.  My doctor called me today to tell me that everything looks ‘quite good’ and I appear to be quite healthy.  Even my PCOS seems to be in remission.  I’ve heard having a baby or babies can do that to you.  And lastly, my dear old husband is going bald and I still love him so I’m hoping that if I am indeed going bald he will at least still love me and perhaps even hold  my hand and kiss  me gently when we go wig shopping.

That is if he doesn’t run away with Twittergirl anytime soon. 

Do you ever have those dreams where your significant other runs off with a nameless faceless beauty? I was lucky enough to have one of those dreams just the other day.  I can’t recall much of the dream but boy did I wake up angry.  Unfortunately, Todd was still home and I was feeling like I had slept on a board and my mood was perhaps showing that when I told him about his ruthlessness in my dream.  He just looked at me and smiled, “You’re angry with me aren’t you?”

Well, wouldn’t you be if your husband brought Twittergirl home to live with you?  Twittergirl, the nerve of some people and their usernames.  Imagine if I called myself Blogspotgirl or Flirkrgirl.  Wouldn’t that just annoy you?  Especially if I moved in with you and your mate.  You are feeling me on this one, right?

I’m thinking that perhaps I watch too much Big Love.

Or that I’ve been spending was too much time lately trying to be witty and catching in 140 characters or less.

Either way I haven’t been finding my way to the treadmill, that’s for sure.

Giving up is too decisive for me.

Last week was a good week.  Despite a lot of snow that we in these parts are just not accustomed to, I actually ran over 17 miles.  That’s right, first week all year to actually reach my goal of 15 miles.  I felt so good about it that this week I’ve run two miles.  I’m sort of like a roller coaster, I know. 

Despite my pathetic totals for the week I did go ahead and register for my first real race of the season.  A 5k trail race held by Liberty University next Saturday morning.  We even have a babysitter lined up ahead of time.  Of course, we still have snow everywhere and they are already calling for more so the race will probably get cancelled but I am going to hold on hope for just a little longer.  The true beginning of the race season, which begins full force the beginning of March, does have me excited.  I knew the winter would be hard but we haven’t had snow like this…well not since before I was born, and this winter and all the snow has been constantly testing everything I worked so hard for last fall.  But I think despite all the draw backs I’m getting better.  I did only two  miles last night but they were sprint intervals at which I was running about 8% faster than my 5k pace on the treadmill which should amount to even more on the actually road because I always find that I run faster on the actual road than on the treadmill. 

I have been baking a lot.  I just love it, you could even say I’ve become addicted to it.  I make the kids something from scratch almost every morning nowadays.  They had cereal for the first time in over ten days this morning and that’s because we were running behind, because I have Buttermilk Pancake batter just sitting in the fridge ready to go.  I have also been submitting my work to a trendy food site.  And being constantly rejected.  It is really bruising my ego.  And has made me start to really criticize my food photography and realize a lot of my photos are crap.  I also wish I still had Adobe Lightroom, it was so awesome. So I’ve been researching technique and  new recipes.  This weekend I am going to try my first scones ever and perhaps some Beignets.  I am also going to attempt a Valentine Cake for my sweeties. And of course take four hundred photos.  And resubmit to snobby but very trendy food site. And then, because they’re bound to reject me, resubmit again.  I. Must. Get. Accepted. 

Ten Years.

This year I celebrate ten years since I graduated from high school.  As things go, that means that it is time to celebrate with our first class reunion.  When I was still close with a few friends from high school I figured it was a done deal, I would definitely be going to the reunion.  However a few things have changed in the last year and lately I haven’t been so sure.

Despite being friends with 50 or so people I went to high school with via Facebook, I am not really in contact with anyone from that time in my life anymore.  It’s somewhat sad but I seem to have lost contact with all of my friends from high school.  Sure we occasionally say hello to one another on a social network or chat in passing at Target but it’s more like acquaintances than friends nowadays.  I am now surrounded with friends whose children are the same age as my own.  I think that’s pretty typical, but I wonder what will happen to those bonds when our children get old enough to make their own friends.

So I wasn’t so sure I was even going to be attending any reunion when I got invited, via Facebook of course, to join a Facebook group entirely dedicated to my graduating class’ reunion.  A week or so later I even got a personal message on Facebook asking whether or not I was planning on attending whatever event is chosen.  The note moved me, that someone actually gave a hoot whether or not I would be attending the reunion kind of made my cold heart soften, just a tad of course.  Then yesterday I noticed that I had been tagged in a picture on the group wall.  The picture is from Ring Dance, junior year.  I’m wearing that cheap velour dress I bought from Value City.  My mother’s friend had tried for over half an hour to do something with my dense coarse hair (ah, when I had a full head of hair, those were the days).  My girlfriend and I went to the dance together.  She didn’t have a date and I was hopelessly in love with a guy who had moved across the country to live with his family, so I didn’t have a date either.  We rode to the dance in my little ‘89 Pontiac Sunbird with the ewok, Wicket, hanging from the rearview mirror and probably Dramarama playing on the cassette player.  That picture really seems to have shaken something in me.

It’s not that I have decided to attend the reunion, they have after all, joked about having it at Putt-Putt.  And it isn’t even that I am nostalgic for old times or old friends, even though there are honestly a few I do miss or would like to see.  Honestly, it just made me feel old.  And not ten years older.  Like twenty, maybe even twenty five.  I honestly don’t even recognize the girl in the picture.  I went and looked in the mirror afterwards just to see if it was me. 

My face is clearer, that’s for sure.  My hair which is still falling out, is shorter with lots of gray.  My eyebrows were….oh let’s just say my mom used to affectionately tell me I looked like  Brooke Shields, but only in the eyebrows and only Brook Shields in the “Blue Lagoon” movie.  My sense of fashion in no keener.  But it isn’t just in the appearance that I look so different to myself, it’s the fact that I can almost feel the ten years difference when I look in that picture. 

They’ve picked a date for the reunion.  I don’t have a run or adventure race so far that weekend.  But babysitter’s aren’t always easy to come by and I’m pretty sure the only way they’re going to want your children to come are as 2x3 wallets.  It’s in October, so I have time to think about it. 

But it didn’t hit me, until I saw that picture, just how long ten years feels.

My little taste testers

This week I decided to make seven muffin recipes to try out over on my baking blog.  By the end of the week some of us won’t care if we ever see a muffin again.  But I have been ‘testing’ my recipes out to see whether or not they’re kid friendly.  The other day we were snowed in and I made two different muffins; Cinnamon Sugar muffins and Maple Muffins.  When they were all done I let Cooper do a little taste testing.  He had quite the time with it. 

He was thrilled to be chosen as number one taste tester.

 

He sampled the Cinnamon Sugar ones first.

He decided pretty quickly that he liked the Cinnamon Sugar ones over the maple ones.  I wasn’t a bit surprised.

Here he’s saying “Anytime, Mom.  Anytime.”

The next day I made Zucchini Chocolate Chip Muffins.  Bailey got to be number one taste tester that day (Cooper was still down for his nap).

She loved them.

 

She couldn’t stop singing their praises.

Take two.

Last week I ran a total of two miles.  That’s right.  Two.  My weekly goal of 15 miles is turning out to be a lot harder than I imagined.  Of course, I have a lot of excuses.  Last night I even wrote a long post about all of my excuses, you know, instead of running.  Then my computer froze up and I had to shut it down and my post, which had taken me the time to run perhaps three miles, was gone.

Today was the first of February (if by some chance you failed to notice) and I decided, after writing my winey little post last night, that I have to be more committed to training if I’m ever going to run 10k’s, half marathons and yes, eventually full marathons and ultras.  I just wish it were warmer outside and that I could hit the roads and trails more often.  It’s no secret by now, I just can’t seem to completely overcome my dislike for the treadmill.

The thing is I really love to run.  I love the action, I love how strong I feel during it and after it, I love the way my body looks from doing it, I love the pride and sense of accomplishment it gives me.  I love sprinting and pulling ahead.  I love running with others.  I love trail running.  I love my running shoes.  I love logging into runner’s world and entering in my most recent run.

Like tonight.  Over 5 and a half miles.  That’s a record for me running on the treadmill.  I figure it’s a new month and a new chance to reach those 15 mile a week goals.