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Showing posts from January, 2016

The Best (and Easiest) Steel Cut Oatmeal

Oatmeal is one of my favorite things. I love it in the winter on a cold day. I love it cold from the fridge on a hot day. Thankfully 3/4 family members agree with me. Although The Husband is a fair weathered supporter, he would select eggs, hash brown potatoes, sausage, and toast every day if he could.


I am trying to eat more steel cut oats instead of the old fashioned variety. Why? Steel cut oats have been processed way less than old fashioned  oatmeal (even more true for instant oatmeal). Less processing means more nutritional value. More nutritional value means better for you. Additional bonus, discount grocery store, Aldi, now carries steel cut oatmeal.

The only down side, steel cut oatmeal takes longer to cook. Which means I can't just make a bowl and run off to work, unless I do some advance preparation. One of the little known facts about myself, the person everyone thinks about being a great planner, is that I actually do very little advanced planning when it comes to mea…

Emotional Eating

This is a very personal post for me. I have been trying to put words to feelings for a few weeks now. Every day I log into this blog I see this post, unfinished just sitting in collection. Some of these things are hard to state much less open myself up to judgement of others. Growth does not always come easy or without bumps and bruises, right. So, here I go. Being as authentic as I can be.

I have found that my personal life often effects my professional life and vise versa. This is one of those times. Understanding trauma and it's effect on people has become a major trend in my line of work. {Probably a long overdue need but that is a whole other rant.} The Adverse Childhood Experience study was a large piece of research that was conducted some years ago. It linked childhood trauma to adverse medical conditions in adults; from obesity to diabetes; from substance abuse to heart disease. I recently took the ACE Study Questionnaire, ten questions each worth one point. My ACE score …

We Survived Hell Week

Some time ago, I told you all that at the beginning of the school year, The Boy decided to pledge a fraternity.   The pledging process has been both a struggle and a blessing this semester. As a mom I have worried for hours concerned about his living situation, grades, partying, hazing, money and a rather large host of other things. From his perspective he has made some good friends and had a lot of support during this transition to college.


After a month home for Christmas break, The Boy returned back to college a week or so early so he could participate in Hell Week with his faternity. Never having been involved in Greek Life when I went to school, I am not sure exactly what Hell Week entails.  As a Mom, it does not sound like a thing you want your children participating in. Before he left I gave him my best Mom speech:  "Son, you know I was a GDI (Gosh Darn Independent) in college and it worked well for me."  "Son, you know you do not have to do anything that makes …

Grandma's Fried Bread

I grew up in  a family with really good cooks; my momma, both of my grandmothers, my aunts, even my daddy. Their food may not have been the healthiest but it was always yummy!   Growing up my Momma made homemade bread every single week. I can still recall her large ceramic crock barely containing the white sticky dough expanding as it rose. I half expected it to explode all over the house like a balloon would do if pushed passed its capacity.  Momma would always cover the dough with a dishtowel and often the bread rose so far that there was a gap between the towel and the top of the crock.


Occasionally as Momma prepared the dough for the oven, she would pinch off small pieces and fry it for us. It was my favorite!  When she called us into the house to present the fried bread, my brother and I knew we were in for a treat! She fried those small pieces of dough in butter and served it with jam or honey. Every single bite  was a mouthful of buttery soft bread that melted in your mouth.


M…

Christmas 2015: Just Not Our Year

Christmas has come and gone. It is now one for the memory books. The question remains, was it a good Christmas or something else?  It strikes me as how some Christmases have just the right chemistry and naturally come together and linger in our memories as great Christmases. Other Christmases fall short of that threshold. They were not necessarily bad but they were not great either. This later category is the Christmas we had this year. It is hard to put your finger on exactly why we categorize it in this matter. I can say  this Christmas had two themes: first, the moment your children grow up and lose their innocence can almost be marked on a calendar; and second: no matter how old your children get, sharing custody is one of the hardest things a parent can do. The holidays only intensifies this.
The Boy arrived home from college on a Friday, one week before Christmas. He left five days later to spend Christmas with his dad. Historically, when he has spent Christmas with his dad, we…