I know that having a menu planned out can save a ton of time, energy, and money, but I still rarely do it. I regret this, because without the plan made out ahead of time, I tend to let things in the fridge pass their expiration date and have to throw things out. Such a waste, and I really hate waste. So since I have a few things that are going to expire soon, I'm writing out a list of dinners for the rest of the week.
Thursday (10/18) - Southern style biscuits and gravy (to use up the buttermilk)
Friday (10/19) - Mexican lasagna (we have about three dozen tortillas that need to be used up)
Saturday (10/20) - Chicken and White Bean Chili in homemade bread bowls (to use up salsa)
Sunday (10/21) - Homemade pizza (half a jar of pizza sauce needs to be used)
I'll try to post an upcoming menu plan every Sunday for the upcoming week, as well as listing any snacky-type foods I'm making to go with packed lunches and after-school snacks. For example, tonight I'm whipping up a quick batch of rice crispy bars. I substitute the butter called for in the recipe with peanut butter, and it's a great hit with the kiddos.
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
Saturday, October 6, 2012
Supporting Sesame Street
At this point we've all heard the debate between Obama and Romney. I was hoping that there would be some fantastic talking points bandied around the internet in the days after the debate, and in truth there were several sites that did that. But more than any other statement, this quote from Romney has gotten the biggest response.
“I’m sorry Jim, I’m gonna stop the subsidy to PBS,” Romney told debate moderator Jim Lehrer, who is executive editor for PBS NewsHour. “I like PBS. I love Big Bird. I actually like you, too. But I’m not gonna keep on spending money on things to borrow money from China to pay for it.”
Within an hour of that statement, Big Bird memes started popping up on my facebook news feed (and I agree that several of them are hilarious, and I'll share some at the end of my post). At first it seemed weird to me that this is the biggest talking point of the debate. But once I actually looked into the figures for Sesame Street, as well as the socio-economical impact, I started to understand why this has become the most talked-about quote:
http://www.pbs.org/about/support-our-mission/
“I’m sorry Jim, I’m gonna stop the subsidy to PBS,” Romney told debate moderator Jim Lehrer, who is executive editor for PBS NewsHour. “I like PBS. I love Big Bird. I actually like you, too. But I’m not gonna keep on spending money on things to borrow money from China to pay for it.”
Within an hour of that statement, Big Bird memes started popping up on my facebook news feed (and I agree that several of them are hilarious, and I'll share some at the end of my post). At first it seemed weird to me that this is the biggest talking point of the debate. But once I actually looked into the figures for Sesame Street, as well as the socio-economical impact, I started to understand why this has become the most talked-about quote:
- Our government does indeed pay a subsidy to support PBS, it is a very tiny amount - 0.00014% of the federal budget. This works out to about 12% of PBS's revenue. Ending the subsidy to PBS is not going to save our government any huge amount of income, and will not make much of an impact on the national debt.
- Ironically, that subsidy to PBS doesn't fund Sesame Street itself - Sesame Workshop, the nonprofit that produces the show "Sesame Street," is a separate organization from PBS with its own revenue streams.
- 33% of students arriving at kindergarten without basic skills. Trying to shut down preschool shows that teach learning as a fun activity seems almost criminal when held against our nation's falling academic standing in the world-wide scene.
- A huge percentage of our nation's families are living at or below poverty level (including my own family). Many of those parents cannot afford basic cable, and PBS is the only channel with children's programing that is still accessible without cable. Our lower-income students are already at a huge disadvantage academically, I don't see any other reason to make it worse!
- A 2011 poll found that 69% of voters are opposed to defunding PBS.
- Sesame Street is a job creator! Sesame Workshop made $46.9 million in revenue from licensing Big Bird, Elmo, the Cookie Monster and other characters in 2011, according to financial statements. This money helped pay the salaries of 1,320 employees...not to mention the salaries of those toy companies, DVD producers, and other countless companies that make the Sesame Street products!
http://www.pbs.org/about/support-our-mission/
Thursday, September 20, 2012
Health issues
Since my back injury earlier this year, it seems that my body just can't find it's equilibrium. My sleep patterns are whacky and I seem to catch every little bug that's floating around. On top of that, I've been fighting a pretty serious case of anemia as well as depression and anxiety.
Trying to lose weight during this has been extremely difficult. One of the meds I was on caused me to balloon another 30 pounds to my heaviest yet. I went off that medication five days ago and now my scales says I've lost 27.6 pounds in that time period, so...yeah...pretty sure my scale is broken! (oh, though - how I wish it was accurate!). My stability ball was my lifeline during the first few months of my recovery, and I sincerely miss it - and I'm pissed at whichever pet thought it would be fun to poke holes in.
I have, however, discovered Zumba, thanks to a friend on the internet who got into it. Regular Zumba is still too hard on my back, but I can handle Zumba Gold (which is designed for older people and disabled people). I've only been doing it for about a week but I can already feel an energy difference.
In other good news, the kids have really settled down into the rhythm of things, school-wise and home-wise. We made some changes this year in our routine and it really seems to work! The first thing we did is we made video games on school nights an absolute no-no. Last year the boys had known that if they finished their homework they could play video games, and this lead to a lot of hiding homework so that they could play faster. And then, of course, the homework never got done! Now they know that there are no video games at all, so they finish their homework pronto - and so far, all their teachers have confirmed that they have no missing work. Every Friday the teachers send home a progress sheet, and if the sheet shows no homework missing, the boys get a couple hours of video games each on Saturday and Sunday. If they do fantastically well on the progress sheet, they get video games on Friday night as well. So far only one of the boys has missed a Friday game night, and he was so disgusted with himself that it hasn't happened again.
Second thing we did is to establish an allowance system. Each boy can earn up to ten dollars in a two-week period (since Sean gets paid bi-weekly this seemed the best way to go about it). If we have to yell at them about homework, chores, or fighting among themselves, they lose a dollar. Since none of the boys wants to lose money, they've all been pretty keen to keep the peace and stay caught up with their chores. It's amazing how much smoother the household runs with this little system!
That's all I can think of to update for today - I know I've been kinda slacking off on this blog. It's mainly because I don't want it to become fully of whining about how awful and helpless I feel about my health. You know, the whole "If you can't say anything nice..." thing. But I am trying to be more positive and hope to be updating with more regularity. Thanks for sticking around!
Trying to lose weight during this has been extremely difficult. One of the meds I was on caused me to balloon another 30 pounds to my heaviest yet. I went off that medication five days ago and now my scales says I've lost 27.6 pounds in that time period, so...yeah...pretty sure my scale is broken! (oh, though - how I wish it was accurate!). My stability ball was my lifeline during the first few months of my recovery, and I sincerely miss it - and I'm pissed at whichever pet thought it would be fun to poke holes in.
I have, however, discovered Zumba, thanks to a friend on the internet who got into it. Regular Zumba is still too hard on my back, but I can handle Zumba Gold (which is designed for older people and disabled people). I've only been doing it for about a week but I can already feel an energy difference.
In other good news, the kids have really settled down into the rhythm of things, school-wise and home-wise. We made some changes this year in our routine and it really seems to work! The first thing we did is we made video games on school nights an absolute no-no. Last year the boys had known that if they finished their homework they could play video games, and this lead to a lot of hiding homework so that they could play faster. And then, of course, the homework never got done! Now they know that there are no video games at all, so they finish their homework pronto - and so far, all their teachers have confirmed that they have no missing work. Every Friday the teachers send home a progress sheet, and if the sheet shows no homework missing, the boys get a couple hours of video games each on Saturday and Sunday. If they do fantastically well on the progress sheet, they get video games on Friday night as well. So far only one of the boys has missed a Friday game night, and he was so disgusted with himself that it hasn't happened again.
Second thing we did is to establish an allowance system. Each boy can earn up to ten dollars in a two-week period (since Sean gets paid bi-weekly this seemed the best way to go about it). If we have to yell at them about homework, chores, or fighting among themselves, they lose a dollar. Since none of the boys wants to lose money, they've all been pretty keen to keep the peace and stay caught up with their chores. It's amazing how much smoother the household runs with this little system!
That's all I can think of to update for today - I know I've been kinda slacking off on this blog. It's mainly because I don't want it to become fully of whining about how awful and helpless I feel about my health. You know, the whole "If you can't say anything nice..." thing. But I am trying to be more positive and hope to be updating with more regularity. Thanks for sticking around!
Sunday, July 29, 2012
Depression
I've struggled all my life with depression. Thinking back, the first time I realized I was depressed (and I mean clinically depressed, not just "it's a rainy day and I'm bored" depressed) was when I was about nine years old. Puberty - and the insane events in my life that coincided with puberty - increased the depression and introduced anxiety.
When I was in my young twenties, I was put on anti-depressants and they made such a wonderful impact in my life. I was a single parent working part-time and attending college full-time, plus a regular attender at church. I felt in control of my life and was genuinely chipper. In my mid-twenties I got pregnant twice - back-to-back pregnancies - and for the sake of the babies, went off my meds. And was so rushed and stressed that it took me three years after my youngest was born to realize I hadn't bothered to go back on the anti-depressants.
"Well," I thought to myself. "If I've been able to handle all these years without them, even with young children, I must not need them anymore." And so I didn't bother asking my doctor for them. And even in later years, when my doctor stressed the idea, I resisted out of a false sense of pride and - yes, I admit it - superiority.
Which, looking back on it, made me a stuck-up b*tch. And during those years, I didn't realize that I was self-medicating with things like junk food, caffeine, and escapism into books.
(now, don't think I'm saying reading is bad. It's a wonderful activity that I still indulge in regularly...but just like anything, it can become an unhealthy addiction if you are using it as a crutch.)
When I realized I was slipping into a dangerous area of OCD, I resisted by intentionally keeping small parts of my home cluttered - which of course added to my anxiety and thus added to depression. And then I would get too down to even clean the intentional clutter and grow even more depressed and anxious...a vicious cycle that swung up and down with my moods.
Injuring my back earlier this year - and the resultant loss of mobility - triggered a tsunami of out-of-control mood swings that sent me down lower than I've been before. And of course, every time I swung low I'd binge eat to feel better. Then I saw the scale and realized I'd developed a new all-time weight high.
This past week, I came to my senses and cried "Enough!!!!" And went to the doctor to talk about anti-depressants and other medical treatments. I'm starting on the new medications today, and such things rarely go smoothly. Dosages will need to be adjusted and some meds will need to be changed, so it's going to be rough going for a while here - but at least it's in the right direction.
Another thing that came to light during my visit is that my iron levels are frighteningly low at ten (if I recall correctly, normal is somewhere around 40-55). Low iron leads to exhaustion and breathing problems, and can contribute to depression as well, so I'm on a prescription-strength iron pill that I am supposed to take three times a day. Iron pills can...um...how do I say this delicately? Gum up the works? Because of that, I have been prescribed a fruit heavy diet with lots and lots of water. So breakfast this morning is going to be almost all fruit, and lunch will include fruit. Snack will be nothing but fruit, and dessert after dinner? Yup, you guessed it - fruit.
Good thing I live close enough to a wonderful store with a huge produce section at low prices, because none of the things I've planted that are fruit-bearing are actually bearing large amounts of fruit. And Sean was wonderful and bought all sorts of frozen fruits to make smoothies with on days when I run out of the fresh stuff.
No one likes to discuss their imperfections, and my struggle with depression, diet, anxiety, and OCD are difficult to admit to. It's hard. It's painful. And it's freeing to be able to say "I need help"...even when that help comes from a prescription bottle.
When I was in my young twenties, I was put on anti-depressants and they made such a wonderful impact in my life. I was a single parent working part-time and attending college full-time, plus a regular attender at church. I felt in control of my life and was genuinely chipper. In my mid-twenties I got pregnant twice - back-to-back pregnancies - and for the sake of the babies, went off my meds. And was so rushed and stressed that it took me three years after my youngest was born to realize I hadn't bothered to go back on the anti-depressants.
"Well," I thought to myself. "If I've been able to handle all these years without them, even with young children, I must not need them anymore." And so I didn't bother asking my doctor for them. And even in later years, when my doctor stressed the idea, I resisted out of a false sense of pride and - yes, I admit it - superiority.
Which, looking back on it, made me a stuck-up b*tch. And during those years, I didn't realize that I was self-medicating with things like junk food, caffeine, and escapism into books.
(now, don't think I'm saying reading is bad. It's a wonderful activity that I still indulge in regularly...but just like anything, it can become an unhealthy addiction if you are using it as a crutch.)
When I realized I was slipping into a dangerous area of OCD, I resisted by intentionally keeping small parts of my home cluttered - which of course added to my anxiety and thus added to depression. And then I would get too down to even clean the intentional clutter and grow even more depressed and anxious...a vicious cycle that swung up and down with my moods.
Injuring my back earlier this year - and the resultant loss of mobility - triggered a tsunami of out-of-control mood swings that sent me down lower than I've been before. And of course, every time I swung low I'd binge eat to feel better. Then I saw the scale and realized I'd developed a new all-time weight high.
This past week, I came to my senses and cried "Enough!!!!" And went to the doctor to talk about anti-depressants and other medical treatments. I'm starting on the new medications today, and such things rarely go smoothly. Dosages will need to be adjusted and some meds will need to be changed, so it's going to be rough going for a while here - but at least it's in the right direction.
Another thing that came to light during my visit is that my iron levels are frighteningly low at ten (if I recall correctly, normal is somewhere around 40-55). Low iron leads to exhaustion and breathing problems, and can contribute to depression as well, so I'm on a prescription-strength iron pill that I am supposed to take three times a day. Iron pills can...um...how do I say this delicately? Gum up the works? Because of that, I have been prescribed a fruit heavy diet with lots and lots of water. So breakfast this morning is going to be almost all fruit, and lunch will include fruit. Snack will be nothing but fruit, and dessert after dinner? Yup, you guessed it - fruit.
Good thing I live close enough to a wonderful store with a huge produce section at low prices, because none of the things I've planted that are fruit-bearing are actually bearing large amounts of fruit. And Sean was wonderful and bought all sorts of frozen fruits to make smoothies with on days when I run out of the fresh stuff.
No one likes to discuss their imperfections, and my struggle with depression, diet, anxiety, and OCD are difficult to admit to. It's hard. It's painful. And it's freeing to be able to say "I need help"...even when that help comes from a prescription bottle.
Friday, June 22, 2012
Thrift store find...
Like most women, I enjoy having nice things. Lately, I've noticed that a lot of my style over the last decade has been quiet, sedate, and DULL. I wanted to spice things up a bit, but finances still are a major factor.
Which is why I'm so very thrilled at what I found tonight. Walking through the thrift store, a bright red leather bag caught my eye. It was beautiful, gorgeous - and behind the counter, which in thrift store language means "major label" and "out-of-your-league-Tricia". I sighed, thinking to myself that it just wasn't going to happen.
I tend to not even ask the price on things stored behind the counter. It's just not worth having the dream crushed. I could see the price tags on some other purses back there - all uglier than the red one - and the lowest price I saw was $70. "Oh well," I thought. "Some woman is going to get very lucky."
When we made it up to the register, Sean asked the lady how much it was. She wandered over and I saw her hand caress the leather, and I just KNEW it was one of those buttery leather products that make you want to sigh in sheer bliss. And then she told us the price. And I thought my ears were deceiving me.
"It's $19.99."
No. That couldn't be right. I must have misheard her. And before I could ask for clarification, my husband said "Let's see it."
It was as buttery as I had imagined, and such a bright red...my heart started to beat hard at the thought of owning something that was so boldly and outrageously feminine. And then I saw the brand on the front and my heart skipped a beat.
PRADA. As in "the devil wears it". As in "a brand Tricia will never ever own in her entire life". I sighed and opened my mouth to tell the woman to put it back, but my husband spoke first.
"Add it to our pile, we're ready to check out."
I'm still in shock. Complete, utter shock. And that shock is starting to be tempered by purely female desire to gloat. I own a prada purse. Me. I wonder if I can convince Sean to let me sleep with it tonight?
Which is why I'm so very thrilled at what I found tonight. Walking through the thrift store, a bright red leather bag caught my eye. It was beautiful, gorgeous - and behind the counter, which in thrift store language means "major label" and "out-of-your-league-Tricia". I sighed, thinking to myself that it just wasn't going to happen.
I tend to not even ask the price on things stored behind the counter. It's just not worth having the dream crushed. I could see the price tags on some other purses back there - all uglier than the red one - and the lowest price I saw was $70. "Oh well," I thought. "Some woman is going to get very lucky."
When we made it up to the register, Sean asked the lady how much it was. She wandered over and I saw her hand caress the leather, and I just KNEW it was one of those buttery leather products that make you want to sigh in sheer bliss. And then she told us the price. And I thought my ears were deceiving me.
"It's $19.99."
No. That couldn't be right. I must have misheard her. And before I could ask for clarification, my husband said "Let's see it."
It was as buttery as I had imagined, and such a bright red...my heart started to beat hard at the thought of owning something that was so boldly and outrageously feminine. And then I saw the brand on the front and my heart skipped a beat.
PRADA. As in "the devil wears it". As in "a brand Tricia will never ever own in her entire life". I sighed and opened my mouth to tell the woman to put it back, but my husband spoke first.
"Add it to our pile, we're ready to check out."
I'm still in shock. Complete, utter shock. And that shock is starting to be tempered by purely female desire to gloat. I own a prada purse. Me. I wonder if I can convince Sean to let me sleep with it tonight?
The season picks up pace...
I'm still pretty much incapable of doing any major gardening (stupid back injury, ugh). But I am managing to get some things done. The entire front patch has been weeded, a second set of seedlings are starting to sprout, and foot by painful square foot, my garden is being extended.
(why foot by painful foot? Digging the new garden with a typical long-handled shovel makes my back light on fire before going numb - every time, without fail. So the only way to clear out my garden is to sit down with the hand shovel and till the earth that way. It's a long process - I could get the same amount cleared in two minutes with a big shovel, but with the small shovel it takes twenty minutes...and it still hurts. But not as badly.)
Photos to come as soon as things are looking more neat.
(why foot by painful foot? Digging the new garden with a typical long-handled shovel makes my back light on fire before going numb - every time, without fail. So the only way to clear out my garden is to sit down with the hand shovel and till the earth that way. It's a long process - I could get the same amount cleared in two minutes with a big shovel, but with the small shovel it takes twenty minutes...and it still hurts. But not as badly.)
Photos to come as soon as things are looking more neat.
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
Ethical reporting - where do we draw the line?
The news hit the world like a slap in the face over Memorial Day weekend - a man in Miami stripped naked and attacked another man, chewing his face off. The attack lasted for eighteen minutes and the attacker was only subdued by a hailstorm of bullets.
All this is fact. All of this is good, factual, non-speculative reporting.
Then came the follow-up reports. The attacker, Rudy Eugene, was on drugs. He was taking bath salts. He was taking PCP. He was cursed by a voodoo priest. Theories abounded, each one a little crazier than the last. His family and friends have protested, saying he was a good-natured young man who carried his bible around, attended church, and never took anything stronger than the occasional joint. This contrast only added fuel to the fire.
Then, today, I found out the worst aspect of all (other than, of course, a man LOSING HIS FACE) - graphic crime scene photos were released to news organizations, including close-ups of the victim's face. ~sarcasm~ How sensational! How electrifying!
Screw that. It's unethical. It's criminal. And it's completely irreversible. Once a photo is out on the 'net, it's there to stay. And this pisses me off.
Perhaps I'm just oversensitive to this situation because I myself have been homeless. I've known others who are very much like the victim, Ronald Poppo - those who are chronically homeless. I feel like many of the big media outlets are treating Poppo like a second-class citizen at best, a non-entity at worse. No one asked Poppo for permission to release such graphic photos of his own injuries. I doubt such permission was even considered, for most feel that the homeless don't have any rights to anything, including their own image.
I don't know if this blog post is making a lot of sense, as I am so angry I can barely type straight. But I do know that I am sorely missing the days of straight-shooting reporting, just the facts, where the victim's rights were considered sacred and the news was delivered without the opinions, fear-mongering, and speculation that fills today's news shows.
I miss Walter Cronkite.
I miss Edward R. Murrow.
I miss reporters who will make the delineation between actual fact, opinion, and speculation clear-cut and concise. I miss journalist ethics and integrity.
I miss the little girl I used to be who wanted to grow up to be the next Barbara Walters or Connie Chung.
And as long as the public spends their time and money on news programs that are as sensationalized as soap operas, I know the modern news will not change.
All this is fact. All of this is good, factual, non-speculative reporting.
Then came the follow-up reports. The attacker, Rudy Eugene, was on drugs. He was taking bath salts. He was taking PCP. He was cursed by a voodoo priest. Theories abounded, each one a little crazier than the last. His family and friends have protested, saying he was a good-natured young man who carried his bible around, attended church, and never took anything stronger than the occasional joint. This contrast only added fuel to the fire.
Then, today, I found out the worst aspect of all (other than, of course, a man LOSING HIS FACE) - graphic crime scene photos were released to news organizations, including close-ups of the victim's face. ~sarcasm~ How sensational! How electrifying!
Screw that. It's unethical. It's criminal. And it's completely irreversible. Once a photo is out on the 'net, it's there to stay. And this pisses me off.
Perhaps I'm just oversensitive to this situation because I myself have been homeless. I've known others who are very much like the victim, Ronald Poppo - those who are chronically homeless. I feel like many of the big media outlets are treating Poppo like a second-class citizen at best, a non-entity at worse. No one asked Poppo for permission to release such graphic photos of his own injuries. I doubt such permission was even considered, for most feel that the homeless don't have any rights to anything, including their own image.
I don't know if this blog post is making a lot of sense, as I am so angry I can barely type straight. But I do know that I am sorely missing the days of straight-shooting reporting, just the facts, where the victim's rights were considered sacred and the news was delivered without the opinions, fear-mongering, and speculation that fills today's news shows.
I miss Walter Cronkite.
I miss Edward R. Murrow.
I miss reporters who will make the delineation between actual fact, opinion, and speculation clear-cut and concise. I miss journalist ethics and integrity.
I miss the little girl I used to be who wanted to grow up to be the next Barbara Walters or Connie Chung.
And as long as the public spends their time and money on news programs that are as sensationalized as soap operas, I know the modern news will not change.
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