Dear Wade,
Please put the Pam Cooking Spray back on the correct shelf when you are done using it. It has always gone on the bottom shelf. With the other cooking-type oils and such. Always. It has never gone on the top shelf. With the popcorn popper. Never.
I realize the shelves are fairly close together. And if you squeeze it into the right front corner of the top shelf, letting it precariously hang over the edge, ready to fall on me as I prepare to make my morning eggs, it does fit there. But on the bottom shelf, where it belongs, there is plenty of room for it to stand, uncrowded, and amongst it's friends Extra Virgin Olive Oil and Red Wine Vinegar.
I think we'd all be a little bit happier if the Pam Cooking Spray was put back on the correct shelf when you are done using it.
Your loving wife,
Sara
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Friday, July 1, 2011
Bird Dog
Yesterday my dog killed a bird. I know some dogs are hunters, but my dog isn't. She's more of a barker. Or a lie-arounder. But, for some reason, yesterday she found her killer instinct.
It's finally gotten nice outside. Summer finally feels like summer. And, as such, I make the dog stay out all day. The rest of the year, as I sweep the kitchen floor or vacuum the family room, she follows behind me, shedding. Negating the work that I'm doing as I'm doing it. But when I clean in the summer I get a full 2 minutes to enjoy the clean-ness before my kids undo it all. However, this summer, until this week, at least, it's been rainy and muddy and I haven't been able to leave my dog outside for hours at a time.
But this week the dog has been able to spend her days lounging under the patio set. We have a bit of a bird sanctuary in our backyard and this surprises me since we also have a 50 lb. black lab. But the kids made birdhouses for Father's Day and I bought a bird bath earlier this spring. We've had a bird feeder out back for years, but this summer I can't seem to keep enough bird seed in it (and it's not squirrels...they have never been able to get into the feeder we have). So, ten feet from where the dog is half passed out in the shade, birds are flying. Everywhere. Robins and cardinals. Sparrows and mourning doves. Little black and white birds. Chubby browns ones.
So yesterday, as the kids were playing, the birds were flitting, and the dog was lounging, I heard a scuffle and the the kids started yelling. They yell a lot, so this wasn't anything that grabbed my attention right away, but then I realized they were yelling "Bad dog! You're a bad dog! Stop it, bad dog!" Either the dog was quick enough or the bird was slow enough (my guess is the latter), but somehow there was a bird in Sadie's mouth. My yelling children were able to get Sadie to drop the bird by the time I got to them, but the poor little thing was scared to death and hopped into a bush. I put the dog in the house and we kept an eye on it for a while, and eventually I swear I saw it fly out. I really thought it had recovered from it's paralyzing fear and flown away. We checked underneath the bush and didn't see it anywhere. I let the dog back out.
Sadie ran over to the bush and sniffed around a bit and then walked away. I turned to the kids and said "See, the little birdie wasn't hurt after all. It was just scared and now it's gone." The second that I finished my little pep talk there was another scuffle. And a dead bird on the patio. I looked at the kids and said, "I'll get the shovel."
It's finally gotten nice outside. Summer finally feels like summer. And, as such, I make the dog stay out all day. The rest of the year, as I sweep the kitchen floor or vacuum the family room, she follows behind me, shedding. Negating the work that I'm doing as I'm doing it. But when I clean in the summer I get a full 2 minutes to enjoy the clean-ness before my kids undo it all. However, this summer, until this week, at least, it's been rainy and muddy and I haven't been able to leave my dog outside for hours at a time.
So yesterday, as the kids were playing, the birds were flitting, and the dog was lounging, I heard a scuffle and the the kids started yelling. They yell a lot, so this wasn't anything that grabbed my attention right away, but then I realized they were yelling "Bad dog! You're a bad dog! Stop it, bad dog!" Either the dog was quick enough or the bird was slow enough (my guess is the latter), but somehow there was a bird in Sadie's mouth. My yelling children were able to get Sadie to drop the bird by the time I got to them, but the poor little thing was scared to death and hopped into a bush. I put the dog in the house and we kept an eye on it for a while, and eventually I swear I saw it fly out. I really thought it had recovered from it's paralyzing fear and flown away. We checked underneath the bush and didn't see it anywhere. I let the dog back out.
Sadie ran over to the bush and sniffed around a bit and then walked away. I turned to the kids and said "See, the little birdie wasn't hurt after all. It was just scared and now it's gone." The second that I finished my little pep talk there was another scuffle. And a dead bird on the patio. I looked at the kids and said, "I'll get the shovel."
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Challenge
I'm challenging myself to write something every day. For a month. I'm nervous. And excited. And now, seeing it written out like that, a bit overwhelmed.
Maybe you've noticed that, once again, I haven't been writing. Or maybe you haven't, and that's okay, too. What's important is that I've noticed that I haven't been writing. I think about writing. And I want to be writing. And it's not that I don't have the time. I have been able to make the time in the past, so there's really no reason that I can't make the time now. Nothing has changed. Except that I don't write anymore. I've been thinking about it quite a bit lately and I think I've figured out what's been keeping me from my blog.
It's you.
Well, more accurately, it's me worrying about you. Worrying about what you're going to think. About me. About what I write. If you'll like what I'm writing. How I'm writing it. If you'll think my ideas are dumb. Boring. Wrong. Not funny. Too serious. I got too wrapped up in the image I was portraying. And when I ran out of ways to portray myself the way I thought other people, you, wanted me to be, I stopped writing.
But the thing is that I started this blog for me. I invited you to join me on my journey. But somewhere along the way I let go of the wheel. I started thinking too hard about where you wanted to go. And I let the pressure get to me. I let it get into my head. It became about being "good enough." I was trying too hard to entertain you rather than just write. For me. For fun.
I want it to be fun again.
So, I'm going to write every day for a month. Well, every day for a while. It might not always be good. It might not always be entertaining. It might not always be pretty. I'm guessing many will be short. Some will probably be fairly boring for people who don't live in my head. And for that I apologize. Actually, I take that back. I'm done apologizing for what I write.
Maybe you've noticed that, once again, I haven't been writing. Or maybe you haven't, and that's okay, too. What's important is that I've noticed that I haven't been writing. I think about writing. And I want to be writing. And it's not that I don't have the time. I have been able to make the time in the past, so there's really no reason that I can't make the time now. Nothing has changed. Except that I don't write anymore. I've been thinking about it quite a bit lately and I think I've figured out what's been keeping me from my blog.
It's you.
Well, more accurately, it's me worrying about you. Worrying about what you're going to think. About me. About what I write. If you'll like what I'm writing. How I'm writing it. If you'll think my ideas are dumb. Boring. Wrong. Not funny. Too serious. I got too wrapped up in the image I was portraying. And when I ran out of ways to portray myself the way I thought other people, you, wanted me to be, I stopped writing.
But the thing is that I started this blog for me. I invited you to join me on my journey. But somewhere along the way I let go of the wheel. I started thinking too hard about where you wanted to go. And I let the pressure get to me. I let it get into my head. It became about being "good enough." I was trying too hard to entertain you rather than just write. For me. For fun.
I want it to be fun again.
So, I'm going to write every day for a month. Well, every day for a while. It might not always be good. It might not always be entertaining. It might not always be pretty. I'm guessing many will be short. Some will probably be fairly boring for people who don't live in my head. And for that I apologize. Actually, I take that back. I'm done apologizing for what I write.
Monday, May 2, 2011
Conflicted
Last night, as we were getting into bed, my husband looked at his blackberry and gasped. "Bin Laden is dead," he said. We came downstairs and turned on the television, waiting for President Obama to officially make the announcement. The moment he did, fireworks went off in our neighborhood and Facebook exploded with jubulation and cheers. This morning's headlines declared "We Got Him" and "Rot in Hell."
But I'm having a hard time being happy.
Don't get me wrong, I feel immense relief that the United States is a huge step closer to bringing home our troops and the world is a safer place because of Bin Laden's death. I do not disagree with the decision our president made in sending those Navy Seals in to that Pakistani compound. I am grateful everyday for the troops who put their lives in danger to save mine. There is no other good way this could have ended. This is for the best. His death was necessary to our nation's freedom and the world's safety.
After we got into bed for the second time last night, I laid there wondering why I wasn't feeling that elation. All morning, as I listened to more reports and saw more Facebook statuses rejoicing, I struggled with my conflicting emotions. And then I saw my brother's status.
I realize that what sounds like celebrating a death is really a celebration for the relief that particular death has brought the world over. And I realize that our country uniting is a good thing. I have not forgotten what Osama Bin Laden and Al Qaeda did to us. Sitting in my classroom, watching a room full of 8th graders as they watched the World Trade Center come crashing down is forever burned into my memory. I tear up every time I hear the Darryl Worely song Have You Forgotten. I am proud to be an American. But I'm foremost a Christian. And as such, my heart breaks that it ever needed to come to this in the first place.
But I'm having a hard time being happy.
Don't get me wrong, I feel immense relief that the United States is a huge step closer to bringing home our troops and the world is a safer place because of Bin Laden's death. I do not disagree with the decision our president made in sending those Navy Seals in to that Pakistani compound. I am grateful everyday for the troops who put their lives in danger to save mine. There is no other good way this could have ended. This is for the best. His death was necessary to our nation's freedom and the world's safety.
After we got into bed for the second time last night, I laid there wondering why I wasn't feeling that elation. All morning, as I listened to more reports and saw more Facebook statuses rejoicing, I struggled with my conflicting emotions. And then I saw my brother's status.
This Bible verse says exactly what my heart is feeling. While I do rejoice in the step towards ending terrorism and the victory for our country, I feel sadness that the only positive outcome was in taking a life. I believe, truly believe, that Osama Bin Laden was evil. I believe that capturing him alive would not have stopped him from spreading that evil to others and that his death was the only way to end it. But I also believe that his was a life created by God, and I believe that Jesus would not be shooting off fireworks or shouting for joy at the loss of Bin Laden's soul.
I realize that what sounds like celebrating a death is really a celebration for the relief that particular death has brought the world over. And I realize that our country uniting is a good thing. I have not forgotten what Osama Bin Laden and Al Qaeda did to us. Sitting in my classroom, watching a room full of 8th graders as they watched the World Trade Center come crashing down is forever burned into my memory. I tear up every time I hear the Darryl Worely song Have You Forgotten. I am proud to be an American. But I'm foremost a Christian. And as such, my heart breaks that it ever needed to come to this in the first place.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Shut the Front Door
This morning, as I'm cruising down the highway, I was surrounded by semis that kept me from seeing the signs directing me to the lane I needed until a split second before I realized I was in the wrong one. I zoomed across two lanes and saw a shiny BMW coming up in the lane I needed to be in. It was clear that I was about to drive off the road (which I briefly did) into the V between two major freeways, and that I needed to get in ahead of him, yet he screamed past me without even pretending he might slow down. Frustrated, as I maneuvered the wheel to keep my new car, not to mention my children, from being sucked into the ditch, I apparently allowed a series of expletives to escape my mouth. With the car back on the highway, my nerves calming, I hear Max, my five year old in the back seat, ask, "Mom? What's a f--k-wad?"
Up to this point my favorite "child saying swearwords" story happened when Sophie, now seven, was about two and a half. We were driving up to a Bible study I was in and she was excited about hanging out with her friends in the church nursery. She asked how long it would take and I responded, "Not long if this stupid truck would get out of my way." Sophie, who, like most kids, was prone to mispronouncing words, said "Stupid f--k?" For the rest of that car ride, and weeks to come, she would point to any truck we saw on the road and ask, "Is that a stupid f--k?" Eventually she stopped asking, and soon after that was able to correctly pronounce the word truck. I love this story because it's funny, and it's not my fault.
But this morning it's all on me. I explained to Max that it's a very mean word and that it's not okay for anyone, kids, teenagers or grownups, to say. I said I was sorry and that I never should have said it. I almost added in front of you, but I didn't. I said that if I ever hear him saying that word I will take away his Wii minutes for the day. But I could not stop laughing. I'm not sure how much of my do-as-I-say message was portrayed before he broke into giggles, too.
I don't know why I couldn't stop laughing. I should have been appalled. I should have been panicked that my innocent child is now going to become a foul-mouthed heathen. But it struck me as hilarious. Maybe it was his little voice saying those words. Or the fact that when he asked what it meant he had no idea it was such a terrible thing to say. Whatever the case, I laugh out loud every time I think about it.
It remains to be seen if Max will use his new vocabulary word in polite conversation. I half expect to get a phone call from his preschool teacher, Miss Connie. And I fully expect that Max will say it while talking to my father, who will look at me in horror. And when this happens, I will, as threatened, take away all of Max's Wii minutes for the entire f-ing day.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Lessons in Less
First, a confession. I took a couple of days off the flush to enjoy a weekend up north with my girlfriends. And yes, I had coffee. Glorious, beautiful, mind-numbingly good coffee. But, as of Monday morning, I have been back on the flush.
I've learned a few things over these last few days, so I thought I would share them with you.
It works!
It worked before, so I'm not too surprised that it's working this time. Five years ago when I did the flush, I did it to the letter. No cheating. Since then I have attempted to do it a few different times, but always on my terms. I could still have creamer-laden coffee and popcorn. Or I would only follow the plan the first part of the day. Dinner was whatever I wanted. Surprisingly, I didn't get the results that I wanted. So this time I promised myself that if I was going to do it, I was going to really do it. I haven't cheated once since Monday morning. When I woke up today I felt different. When I got ready to take my shower I looked different. Of course, I stood looking at myself long enough to dwell on all of my flaws, but initially I could see just a hint of change in the right direction. I decided not to weigh myself throughout this process. The scale and I have become mortal enemies and I decided that rather than torturing myself, I am just going to do what's healthy and focus on that. But who am I kidding...after all of this, I had better lose some weight!
It's empowering!
Wade sent me an article about the pressure put upon us to eat a certain way based on where were are or who we are with. Family expects us to eat what they serve and are disappointed if we don't. Friends out to dinner scoff when someone at the table is too picky about what they order. It's looked down upon to have opinions about what we eat. I used to be picky. I used to be so careful about what I put into my body. But I let my guard down, and slowly I started eating what was put in front of me without much thought to where it came from or what it would do to my body. The flush is getting me back to my old ways and it feels good. It feels really good to be so aware of my choices. To know that what I'm putting in my body is purely good for it. And I'm starting to remember how good it feels to not eat something, even if others are offended.
Food is Fuel
Food is yummy. Food is fun. Food is company. But more than anything else, food is fuel. My daughter actually made a great analogy the other day. We were talking about eating healthy and I was explaining that what we eat has a direct effect on how we feel, or how smoothly our body works. Sophie said, "It sounds like a car. It needs gasoline to run the right way. But it wouldn't work right if you put in something else." Bingo! Just because something is tasty, or cheap, or both, does not make it okay to eat. The flush has reminded me that eating is purely about energy. And as nervous as I was about giving up all the fake stuff, it turns out I really like the way real food tastes.
I don't miss what I'm not eating
I have not had a carb in three days (other than fruit, I was just informed by Wade). I haven't eaten a crust off of a kid's plate. I haven't even licked my finger after making peanut butter and jelly. After doing the flush for the first time, I was able to stay away, for the most part, from chips and other unhealthy carbohydrates. I'm not saying I never had a carb, but they were something I was often able to pass up. But when I was pregnant with Lily I craved Doritos. They were my downfall. Once I spent nine months giving in to my temptations, it was too easy to give in to my carb cravings on a regular basis. But now that I haven't had even a single one, I am reminded once more that my body works better when I'm not loaded with potato chips.
Be mindful of mindless eating
Lastly, I have realized how often I would reach for food without thinking. Now that I have to think about everything that I eat, and am so limited in what it is I can eat, it's clear that I was mindlessly eating often throughout the day. I have caught myself, on several occasions, reaching in for a handful of animal crackers. Or opening the cupboard looking for who-knows-what, even though I'm not hungry at all. Today, however, I didn't do that at all. Something has clicked, and I think my body is running more smoothly now that it's had a few days off, um, fake food.
Today, day three (I'm not counting the days last week, since I cheated, knowing I was going to take the weekend off) has been the easiest day so far. I hope that trend continues.
However, I really can't wait to have a cup of coffee.
I've learned a few things over these last few days, so I thought I would share them with you.
It works!
It worked before, so I'm not too surprised that it's working this time. Five years ago when I did the flush, I did it to the letter. No cheating. Since then I have attempted to do it a few different times, but always on my terms. I could still have creamer-laden coffee and popcorn. Or I would only follow the plan the first part of the day. Dinner was whatever I wanted. Surprisingly, I didn't get the results that I wanted. So this time I promised myself that if I was going to do it, I was going to really do it. I haven't cheated once since Monday morning. When I woke up today I felt different. When I got ready to take my shower I looked different. Of course, I stood looking at myself long enough to dwell on all of my flaws, but initially I could see just a hint of change in the right direction. I decided not to weigh myself throughout this process. The scale and I have become mortal enemies and I decided that rather than torturing myself, I am just going to do what's healthy and focus on that. But who am I kidding...after all of this, I had better lose some weight!
It's empowering!
Wade sent me an article about the pressure put upon us to eat a certain way based on where were are or who we are with. Family expects us to eat what they serve and are disappointed if we don't. Friends out to dinner scoff when someone at the table is too picky about what they order. It's looked down upon to have opinions about what we eat. I used to be picky. I used to be so careful about what I put into my body. But I let my guard down, and slowly I started eating what was put in front of me without much thought to where it came from or what it would do to my body. The flush is getting me back to my old ways and it feels good. It feels really good to be so aware of my choices. To know that what I'm putting in my body is purely good for it. And I'm starting to remember how good it feels to not eat something, even if others are offended.
Food is Fuel
Food is yummy. Food is fun. Food is company. But more than anything else, food is fuel. My daughter actually made a great analogy the other day. We were talking about eating healthy and I was explaining that what we eat has a direct effect on how we feel, or how smoothly our body works. Sophie said, "It sounds like a car. It needs gasoline to run the right way. But it wouldn't work right if you put in something else." Bingo! Just because something is tasty, or cheap, or both, does not make it okay to eat. The flush has reminded me that eating is purely about energy. And as nervous as I was about giving up all the fake stuff, it turns out I really like the way real food tastes.
I don't miss what I'm not eating
I have not had a carb in three days (other than fruit, I was just informed by Wade). I haven't eaten a crust off of a kid's plate. I haven't even licked my finger after making peanut butter and jelly. After doing the flush for the first time, I was able to stay away, for the most part, from chips and other unhealthy carbohydrates. I'm not saying I never had a carb, but they were something I was often able to pass up. But when I was pregnant with Lily I craved Doritos. They were my downfall. Once I spent nine months giving in to my temptations, it was too easy to give in to my carb cravings on a regular basis. But now that I haven't had even a single one, I am reminded once more that my body works better when I'm not loaded with potato chips.
Be mindful of mindless eating
Lastly, I have realized how often I would reach for food without thinking. Now that I have to think about everything that I eat, and am so limited in what it is I can eat, it's clear that I was mindlessly eating often throughout the day. I have caught myself, on several occasions, reaching in for a handful of animal crackers. Or opening the cupboard looking for who-knows-what, even though I'm not hungry at all. Today, however, I didn't do that at all. Something has clicked, and I think my body is running more smoothly now that it's had a few days off, um, fake food.
Today, day three (I'm not counting the days last week, since I cheated, knowing I was going to take the weekend off) has been the easiest day so far. I hope that trend continues.
However, I really can't wait to have a cup of coffee.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
My Life WITHOUT Coffee
For the next few weeks, should you choose to accept, you are going with me on a terrifying adventure. It will be fraught with hard work, exhilarating highs, deep cavernous lows and probably quite a bit of whining (on my part, but quite possibly yours as well). I'm starting a new plan today. I'm getting back to my true, organic self (and hopefully losing some weight along the way). I'm going to follow the Fat Flush Plan, which focuses on eating vegetables, lean protein, and fruit. But no caffeine.
That means no coffee.
While following this plan (and I'll get to why I want to do this in a bit) I will have to cut out many things. For a while. I will have to cut out the handfuls of animal crackers I eat throughout the day. And the chocolate-covered blueberries. I will have to stop eating the peanut butter and jelly crusts off of Max's plate. I will have to not eat my left over fried rice from Chang Mai Thai that has been taunting me every time I open my refrigerator. But, by far, the biggest sacrifice will be giving up my coffee.
I gave Weight Watchers a try for six weeks. I lost no weight. None. Zero pounds. Pants are still tight. Wasted six weeks of the nine leading up to my Arizona trip. I think the new Weight Watchers points system is a crock and I don't recommend it at all. According to my points, I could have eaten pretty much anything I wanted and stayed within my range. Well, eating whatever you want doesn't usually lead to weight loss, so I guess I'm not too surprised that I didn't see any results.
Five years ago, after Max was born, I did the Fat Flush Plan. I didn't lose a ton of weight, not right away, but I lost some. I'm not gonna lie, I am doing this plan so that I lose weight. But when I did it before, something unexpected happened. I started thinking about what I ate. I started paying attention to ingredients, thinking about exactly what I was putting into my body. I realized that I like vegetables. I learned to try new foods! In other words, and I hate to sound overly dramatic here, it changed my life. It really did. I'm hoping that's what happens this time, too.
I blame Lily for my tumble off the healthy wagon. I was able to maintain a healthy weight for three and a half years. Then I got pregnant and (I've written about this many times before, I know) decided that I was going to have one last fling with food. For the last 18 months I have been meaning to get back to eating healthy. It's been on my "to do" list to only buy foods that I believe are made from real ingredients and not preservatives and fillers, but I get to the grocery store and it's easier, cheaper, to just grab what I need off the shelf and be on my way.
Last week I thought about starting the flush, but once I decided that I was going to do it, I got angry. I was mad that it had even come to that. I didn't want to make the changes I know I need (and actually want) to make. But over the past week something in me shifted. I feel ready. And in telling you that, I feel held accountable.
I wasn't planning to tell you about this process. I thought that it would bore you (and it probably will). But then I remembered that this is my blog. And I started thinking that it will be good for me to write about it, good for me to share how I'm feeling, good for me to hear any feedback you may want to share with me. Don't worry. I'm not doing anything crazy. This is about health. Weight-loss, too. But mainly about getting back to healthy. It's not some crazy diet, it's me working towards making the changes in my life that I believe are necessary.
So, along with pb&j crusts and handfuls of animal crackers, I will be giving up coffee for the next two and a half weeks. After this one last cup, flavored with hazelnut creamer and tears.
That means no coffee.
While following this plan (and I'll get to why I want to do this in a bit) I will have to cut out many things. For a while. I will have to cut out the handfuls of animal crackers I eat throughout the day. And the chocolate-covered blueberries. I will have to stop eating the peanut butter and jelly crusts off of Max's plate. I will have to not eat my left over fried rice from Chang Mai Thai that has been taunting me every time I open my refrigerator. But, by far, the biggest sacrifice will be giving up my coffee.
I gave Weight Watchers a try for six weeks. I lost no weight. None. Zero pounds. Pants are still tight. Wasted six weeks of the nine leading up to my Arizona trip. I think the new Weight Watchers points system is a crock and I don't recommend it at all. According to my points, I could have eaten pretty much anything I wanted and stayed within my range. Well, eating whatever you want doesn't usually lead to weight loss, so I guess I'm not too surprised that I didn't see any results.
Five years ago, after Max was born, I did the Fat Flush Plan. I didn't lose a ton of weight, not right away, but I lost some. I'm not gonna lie, I am doing this plan so that I lose weight. But when I did it before, something unexpected happened. I started thinking about what I ate. I started paying attention to ingredients, thinking about exactly what I was putting into my body. I realized that I like vegetables. I learned to try new foods! In other words, and I hate to sound overly dramatic here, it changed my life. It really did. I'm hoping that's what happens this time, too.
I blame Lily for my tumble off the healthy wagon. I was able to maintain a healthy weight for three and a half years. Then I got pregnant and (I've written about this many times before, I know) decided that I was going to have one last fling with food. For the last 18 months I have been meaning to get back to eating healthy. It's been on my "to do" list to only buy foods that I believe are made from real ingredients and not preservatives and fillers, but I get to the grocery store and it's easier, cheaper, to just grab what I need off the shelf and be on my way.
Last week I thought about starting the flush, but once I decided that I was going to do it, I got angry. I was mad that it had even come to that. I didn't want to make the changes I know I need (and actually want) to make. But over the past week something in me shifted. I feel ready. And in telling you that, I feel held accountable.
I wasn't planning to tell you about this process. I thought that it would bore you (and it probably will). But then I remembered that this is my blog. And I started thinking that it will be good for me to write about it, good for me to share how I'm feeling, good for me to hear any feedback you may want to share with me. Don't worry. I'm not doing anything crazy. This is about health. Weight-loss, too. But mainly about getting back to healthy. It's not some crazy diet, it's me working towards making the changes in my life that I believe are necessary.
So, along with pb&j crusts and handfuls of animal crackers, I will be giving up coffee for the next two and a half weeks. After this one last cup, flavored with hazelnut creamer and tears.
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