I'm back at Weight Watchers. 'Nuff said, right? When I was in WW before (two times) I did very well. Now I'm not trying to jinx myself or anything, but I lost around fifty pounds both times. Once I quit because money got tight and WW became an extra. The other time I quit because I got pregnant. Know what happened? Each time I started I weighed about the same. What I weighed when I first joined is the same amount I weighed when I re-joined the second time. That's also within ten pounds of what my starting weight is this time. This time I'm ten pounds less than the two previous times so I guess I got sick of my clothes not fitting a little sooner this time. What I'm getting at is this: I am very good at counting points, exercising, and all that stuff...when I am a meeting attending member. When I "count my points on my own" I gain the weight all back. That is not something that works for me. If I take the money I spend each week going out to lunch and add it up I'm more than paying for my weekly meetings. Plus I found out that my insurance company will reimburse me up to $150 a year for my WW meetings. Sweetness.

I'm going to post pictures and recipes of dinners if it's something I think you'd be interested in...plus it's an easy way for me to catalog the dinners I've figured out the points for. So to help out my fellow WW members (and myself) here goes the first one:

Chicken with Cherry Salsa, Sweet Potato Fries, and Asparagus

First, I forgot to take the picture until I had started eating...so picture another piece of chicken on there. I had two (because I actually just took one breast and split it thickness-wise so they'd cook quicker).

The chicken (after I split each breast) was super simple. Each side got salt, pepper, and poultry seasoning. Place in a skillet that's preheated on medium with about 2T. EVOO. They only take about 5 minutes on each side. If you're using a regular sized chicken breast then it's going to take longer...probably about 10-12 minutes on each side. I like to feel like I have a large quantity of food, and two small pieces seems like more than one big piece.

The sweet potato fries are peeled and cut sweet potatoes that I sprayed with cooking spray and sprinkled with cinnamon and nutmeg. No exact measurements or anything...just sprinkle until they look nicely coated and toss them on a cookie sheet. They'll bake at 400 for 20 minutes.

The asparagus gets drizzled with EVOO and three to four cloves of sliced garlic on top. Sprinkle on some salt and pepper and roast in the 400 degree oven for 8-10 minutes.

I saved the cherry salsa for last because it was so freaking delicious and I always save the best for last. I made the salsa earlier today and popped it in the fridge to let it marinate and chill and then put about a tablespoon or so on each piece of chicken. I was a little hesitant to try it because I don't like hot stuff and it called for jalapenos...trust me when I say that this is super awesomely yummy. The original recipe for the salsa said you could dip chips in it, but I can't vouch for whether that's good or not.

Cherry Salsa
2 Cups Bing Cherries, pitted and coarsely chopped
1/4 Cup Cherry Preserves
Juice of a Half a Lime
1/4 of a Red Onion, finely chopped
1/2 of a Jalapeno Pepper, finely chopped

I chopped everything in my mini chopper. I did the cherries by themselves and just pulsed them so they weren't too small. Store in an airtight container.

WW POINTS: 8
Serving: Two small pieces of chicken (3 ounces), 2T. salsa, 1 Cup Potatoes, 8-10 Asparagus Spears.

Posted by Courtney at 6:44 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Because that would be better than the morning I had. Picture it now...enter dream sequence...que the wavy lines and bloop bloop bloop sound effects...

It's 5:45 am. I am sleeping. I am not a morning person. I get up at the. last. possible. moment. I don't enjoy having coffee whilst reading the newspaper, and I sure as hell don't get up for an early morning jog. So there I am, comfortably slumbering when I hear the most annoying, high pitched, WHINE coming from the dog...who is in the kitchen...stuffing her whining nose in the crack of the doorway to our bedroom. Apparently she wants in to sleep on the bed. Wonder who started allowing THAT bad habit while I was in California last month? Any guesses?

I begrudgingly got up to let the stinking ass whiner in the bed.

I snuggled back under the covers, noticed that it was now 5:55, and said a small thank you to God for the hour more sleep I'd get before it was time to get up for the day. To what do my wondering ears do I hear? Nora rustling around in her bed...potentially moments away from waking up. Most likely she heard the damn dog whining, too.

Know who didn't hear the dog? The man that allows the dog to sleep in our bed in the first place. The man who was oblivious to the rustling around of the child. The man who was now snoring in my face. Very loudly.

Fan-Freaking-Tastic.

Now the dog is sprawled out in our bed...pushing me so far to the side that one butt cheek is hanging off. Nora is rustling around on the baby monitor. And my ears are being assaulted by the snores of a thousand snores. Oh yeah, and the cat's in the kitchen bitching because she wants fed...since we're all awake for the day and all.

I forcefully grabbed my blanket and pillow to head to the couch. That did nothing to wake the dog or the husband. I stalked out of the room with one last goodbye to the dog...the one that started it all. It went something like this...

Dog. I'm gonna rip off your head and take a shit down your neck.

Did I mention I'm not a morning person? Yeah. I thought so.

Posted by Courtney at 7:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

At the store today:

Ooooh. That Mildew Cleaner with Bleach is on clearance for $1.99. That stuff is usually four bucks. I should totally buy that for Larry.

Yeah, cause I'm such a thoughtful wife like that. Wait until you see the really cool dish towels I'm gonna get him for his birthday this year!

Posted by Courtney at 2:08 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

You know you're no longer single and therefore have no one to impress, when:

It's Friday night and you're snuggled in a blanket (bra-less, of course) on the couch watching a tivo-ed Dr. Phil episode at 8pm...thankful that the baby is asleep...and that your husband doesn't want to use the TV to watch baseball...knowing full well that you'll both be asleep by 10pm. And you know what? You don't care. In fact, topping it off with a slice of that red velvet cake in the fridge makes it the perfect evening ever.

Posted by Courtney at 8:13 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Note to the Supremo Asshat Sales Manager at ABC Warehouse: I don't appreciate your freaking attitude. I am thankful that the salesman I talked to was of a higher class than yourself...even if he couldn't work the TV I was looking at...which is strange since he told me TVs are his specialty. Something tells me that washers would've been his specialty if I were shopping for one of those...but I digress. After completing my browsing, where I had told said salesman that I was price checking and I'd have to check with my husband, I was headed out the door to the next place on the list. This is the moment that I was slapped in the face by your dumb ass comment of, "What's the matter, ma'am? You have to wait for your husband to pick a TV? Can't you make that decision yourself?" And you know what? You said it in a rather snotty tone...that was borderline bitchy. Gotta tell you, that did nothing for me. In fact, it helped make my decision about purchasing the TV much easier...it eliminated the possibility of buying the TV from your store. It turns out I could make the decision of which TV to buy by myself. I am capable of deciding things. However, a $700+ purchase is not something that our household takes lightly. A $700+ TV is probably not something you'd want your wife picking out (assuming you kept your trap shut long enough to snag someone of the opposite sex), and buying without your input. We actually bought a TV that cost more than yours...at your nearby competitor...because they treated us respectfully. Your smart mouth cost you the sale. So put that in your pipe and smoke it, jerk.

Posted by Courtney at 7:48 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Dear Nora,

Today you went pee in the potty.

It was a major event that was met with much fanfare! You were so excited to hear the tinkle tinkle and had the biggest grin ever. Lately you've been interested in the potty quite a bit, and you really like making the flushing sound on the Dora potty book. This weekend we used some of your birthday money that was left-over from January and bought you a Dora potty seat. The first day we had it you wanted to sit on it a few times...mostly to play with the toilet paper roll. Then today before your nap I said, "let's go get a new diaper." And you said, "potty! potty!" After less than a minute you heard the pee in the potty. You then wave bye bye to the pee while we flush.

Some people (ahem, one of your Uncles who shall remain nameless but his name rhymes with Bee) seem think that you're too young and not ready. I scoff at that. Scoff. You like the potty. You ask to go on the potty. After a day of sitting on the potty only three times you actually went in. the. potty. Pish-posh to him.

It's a bittersweet thing though. While I don't particularly love changing your diapers (especially the poopie ones), beginning potty training you is another reminder that you're growing up. Rather quickly. It's so fun to see you run towards your bathroom yelling potty! potty! I hope you remain this excited about the process. At least you're not big enough to wipe your own butt yet. There's still something left for Mama. Lucky me.

Posted by Courtney at 8:14 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

at the beach in San Francisco:

Posted by Courtney at 7:42 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

How can you tell? Is it the way the flowers are blooming? Is it the way the birds are chirping and happily building nests? No. It's that the ice cream stand is finally open! Nora had her first cone a few days ago. I think she enjoyed it:

Posted by Courtney at 4:18 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

What does one do when the fifteen-month-old refuses to eat her dinner? Why, serve up some cake, of course! At least it's a healthy-ish cake. It's one of those Jello poke cakes. Want the recipe? Simple. Make a white cake (use a mix and follow the directions on the box...trust me it'll save you a ton of time). Once it's cooled, make one package of Jello according to the directions on that box. Any flavor will work...I used black cherry. Poke holes in the cooled cake (kids will love to help with this part). Pour the Jello over the top of the cake. Refrigerate for at least 4 hours. Top with Cool Whip. I made the cake with the low cholesterol directions, used sugar free Jello, and used fat free Cool Whip...that way I'd feel a billion times less guilty when I had two pieces instead of one. And now, without further delay...Nora eating her cake dinner:

Posted by Courtney at 8:08 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

The email I just received from my husband, who is at work right now:

"I just took a poop that would make a landfill rat throw up. HOE-LEE SHIT was it nasty. The hallway smells horrible and I even used the spray (which goes against all of my manly instincts). I wish I could have done this at home so you could have enjoyed it too. Oh well. Maybe next time."

I love you, too, Dear.

Posted by Courtney at 11:06 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I signed up for an indoor cycling class at our local rec center. I've been going to the rec center about four days a week for the past month. Trying to lose that "baby fat", which, let's be honest is really pre-baby fat caused by terrible eating habits. Add to that the fact that I have some jeans from the summer after high school that are super cute (and expensive because I could drop $50 on a pair of jeans back then since I didn't have real bills to pay) that I want to wear again. After worshiping the stair-master for four weeks I felt like I needed something more...shall we say...structured. I prepaid for the classes so I wouldn't go to one class and quit. It's a four week class that meets once a week. I see why it only meets once a week. You will, too, by the time you finish reading this. The first class was canceled because we had a blizzard last Saturday. I must admit I was a little relieved. I was all, "well I was supposed to go to a cycling class but it was canceled...aww shucks..." Really I was thinking, "Thank GOD for that blizzard...one more week of sleeping in on Saturday morning." Did I mention the class is at 8:30. That's 8:30 AM. On Saturdays.

Today was my actual first class. Allow me to clear up a few misconceptions and possibly set the record straight about cycling classes:

1) Even though it looks like the people inside are KILLING themselves, no one dies in cycling class. At least not in the one I was at today.

2) Anyone, no matter their size, shape, or age can take a cycling class. You don't have to be super fit or Lance Armstrong to cycle. You set your own pace. Go as slow (or fast, if you're a crazy bitch) as you like.

3) Don't try and keep up with the crazy bitches that are going super fast. This is not their first class. Some of them (the extra crazy ones) take this class two to three times A WEEK. These are the ones that wear padded bicycle shorts and sit in the front row of bikes.

4) When the instructor says, "your first class is going to be the worst...you'll probably want to quit...you might feel like you're going to die...but you should keep coming...it gets easier." She's telling the truth. At least about the first class being the worst. And that whole you might feel like you're going to die part...she's telling the truth about that, too. I can't say if it gets any easier or not since this was my first one.

5) When the instructor says, "after the first class you're going to be a little saddle sore," what she means is your ASS IS GOING TO HURT. Like two seconds into your 45 minute class you'll be wishing you were giving birth...because THAT didn't hurt your va-jay-jay and ass NEARLY as much as sitting on that bike seat. You'll see why Susie Cylcles-A-Lot, the crazy bitch in the front row that's actually enjoying herself, wears those padded shorts.

6) Standing up on the bike to relieve the pain in your, ahem, nether regions will help. It will also kill your legs. So throughout the class (did I mention that it's 45 minutes long?) you must constantly decide, "Do I want my crotch to hurt or my legs to hurt?" I opted to switch back and forth...giving equal pain opportunity to both my crotch and legs. They appreciated it.

7) Ignore the clock. If you keep checking the time, that 45 minutes is going to seem like 45 HOURS.

8) Your legs will feel wobbly after you get off the bike. That's normal. Perfect excuse to rest your sore butt in one of those nice cushy chairs they offer to change your shoes. If it takes an hour to change your shoes, don't let them kick you out of the stuffed chair. Tell them you like to pace yourself when undoing your laces.

All of that being said, I am returning for next week's class...they already have my money so I may as well. Afterwards the instructor asked how it went. I smiled and said, "well I'm still breathing." She took that to be a good sign. I also told her that I sure as hell won't feel guilty when I eat those cookies I made last night. A few of the crazy bitches even got a kick out of that one.

PS: I totally had McDonald's for breakfast on the way home from class. You can take the girl to the gym...but you can't make her eat healthy all the time. Now...where did I put those cookies?!

Posted by Courtney at 10:35 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Remember when I sarcastically proclaimed that cleaning up dog poop with a bag with a hole in it made my day? I lied. Flat out. Because this certainly tops it:

Now that. That made my freaking week. The shit of it all? The house insurance pays to fix the carport. The car insurance pays to fix the car. Two deductibles. I tried arguing that it's the fault of the house that the car was damaged, therefore the repairs to the car should fall into the jurisdiction of the house insurance. No go. The lady agreed with me that it sucks...but pretty much said that's just tough.

Also, to the people who owned this house before us and likely put up the cheapest option in carports when THIS VERY SAME THING HAPPENED TO YOU WHEN YOU LIVED HERE:

Posted by Courtney at 8:21 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)