Faux Barbecue....Farbecue

I have'nt eaten red meat in about 10 years... I miss it

The smell of steak grilling, a burger with cheese , my Grandmas roast beef and above all barbeque. People ( my husband and brother) pressure me often to eat it but at this point my cow days are over. I do stare longingly at my husband when he does dive into a bbq feast so imagine my glee when I discovered Morningstar farms BBQ riblets at the store last week. I have tried several of their other products- breakfast sausage because I don't eat pork, but that's another post - but just for some reason passed the riblets on by.

They caught my attention so in my cart they went and I prepared some mashed potatoes and corn to go with. I was skeptical of how good they would be but after the first bite I was hooked. My husband ate some too and was turning to me to ask what I thought when he saw me licking my plate. Gone.. just like that. For me, a person who has not eaten bbq "ribs" in years they were probably one of the best things I have ever had. Same texture, taste and smell as the real deal. The only problem...I wanted more.

Check them out even if you do eat meat. They are better for you and packed with loads of protein and soy goodness. A cow will thank you.

~ Karen

Mekka Lekka Hi Mekka Hiney Ho

If you are a fool for the 80's like I am then I know you watched, and loved, Pee Wee's Playhouse. Does it matter that I was a teenager and enjoyed it? Pish posh and hell no. Pee Wee was an icon in my house and watched every Saturday.

Now I understand that Pee Wee fell onto some hard times and had some kind of altercation in a theater- let's keep the details to ourselves. To each his own right Mr. Wee? I never stopped liking him and hoped that one day he would have a triumphant return. Well that day is now!


Click below to get the details on Pee Wee live on Broadway where you can see Pee Wee, Captain Carl, Jambi the Genie, Miss Yvonne, Pterri the Pterodactyl , Chairy and Clocky.
Davina and I watched Pee Wee's Big Adventure so many times that I swear if you asked us to recite it right now we could-word for word.

Long Live Pee Wee


http://www.peewee.com/broadway/

One point tip of the week

Here's another one point tip of the week for everyone. If you are a breakfast lover then this one is for you.

Try Thomas' light , multi grain english muffins. Only 1 point which is less than a weight watchers bagel. Add some peanut butter or an egg white and there's your protein and your ready to roll.

Mama always said breakfast is the most important meal of the day!

September = free yoga month

Did you know that September is National free yoga month? I did'nt either until my girl Mary Ellen ( a BF's future contributing blogger ) told me all about it. So I'll share the news with you.

Go to the link below for more info on how to get a free weeks worth of yoga at a participating studio near you.



http://yogamonth.org/freeyoga/



Check out the side bar for the Namaste light box. Just in case your " I bow to you " was feeling a bit bloated you can keep it on the light tip .


~ Karen

I want surfer girl hair

I want to be a surfer girl.


I want to be tan, tone, carry a board and look hot doing it. Catch a huge wave, slap a fellow surfer high five, avoid a great white shark biting the end of my board, attend a pig roast, marry the big Kahuna.....well perhaps now I am getting carried away.


I can't even swim that well forget surf so the most I can hope to get is surfer girl hair. My hair is at it's best after a dip in the ocean and wind dried after sitting out in the sun. I do'nt brush it or fuss over it and yet it's always when I think it looks best , so I am on the hunt for some surf hair products and will try them all until I find "the " one.










Bumble and Bumble has a surf spray that retails for $22. It can be bought at their website or at CVS online, which of course is out of stock. It claims it is great for " Anyone; excellent for wavy types and surfers with winter blues; adds body to fine hair; a nice texture for silver hair. " Silver hair ? Ok then....not sure what that refers too but it must be a hit with the older silver fox ladies.





I will be trying it..order is on the way










KMS also has a sea salt spray that it describes as follows: " Recreate the look and feel you get from the beach; tousled, sexy, with fullness and a lite matte finish "





Sounds good to me so I will be on the hunt for this one as well. It is rumored to be available at Target but I didn't see it anywhere. Amazon has it for about $12- 15 depending on the vendor. This may be an ebay purchase for me.





I realize there are other assorted surf "pastes" and gels available- my husband uses the Garnier surf paste for his hair-but I want a spray. My hair is long and the paste just does'nt cut it for me.


Have a product you like and it's not here? Let us know. If you've used any of the products i've mentioned , comment below which and review them for us. My reviews will be up as soon as I get my surf goddess goods.




~ Karen

The eleven year blues

This coming up weekend is my eleven year wedding anniversary. Now now, I don't expect any congratulations or cards in the mail because quite honestly, the eleven year marker feels like a bit of a let down.

In previous years there was a marker for every year passed all leading up to the big 10 year extravaganza. Year one was a romantic getaway and leftover , frozen cake -not that yummy. Five was a fancy pants dinner that made my husband uncomfortable, with a diamond anniversary band . Last years 10 year blowout was a trip to the Bahamas, which I will never forget. No kids, just us and some great friends and copious amounts of rum and sun . What do I have coming up this year? Dinner on a Friday night because I could'nt get a babysitter for Saturday. What this translates too is a tired husband from working all day who is going to want to come home right after dinner and probably watch a DVR'd show.

No Bahamas, no diamonds, no rum drinks, no nuthin!

Yes I do realize that every succesful year of a marriage is reason to celebrate and I should just keep my mouth shut and be happy with what I've got. I am happy with what I've got , but I'm a celebrater and a party gal by nature and above all else I LOVE to plan things. I guess at this point I'll suck it up, eat my Friday dinner with a few cocktails and immedietly afterwards start planning my 20 year anniversary celebration.

I see Hawaii in my future...9 years away future.

~ Karen

Summer you are a fat, gin loving girl

Well I have just returned home from a week at the beach. My hair is a bit lighter, my skin a bit frecklier and my shorts a bit tighter. Does everyone gain 5 pounds over the course of a week? If your diet consists of ice cream, chips and gin and tonics then I can answer for you and say yes. What is it about a week with no commitments besides putting your feet in the sand and a drink in your hand that turns a semi healthy gal into an alcoholic slob ?

At least when I go places like Disney World I can justify a Mickey ice cream bar by saying that all the walking I'm doing will help. I can't afford to drink like a fish at Disney so therefore, liquor consumption does'nt really count. At the beach it flows in and out like the tides and when you run out, there's always a chore boy to send out to the liquor store. This is my downfall...well this plus almond joy ice cream.

So this morning I am back to reality doing laundry, eating egg whites and looking hesitantly at my gym clothes. I'm sure the second I walk in to Planet Fatass..I mean Fitness, they will all notice the extra around the middle that I have accumulated and be sure to whisper how I was only gone a week. To this I say a week at the beach with my family is like a month to the average person. I have the liquor store receipts to prove it.

~ Karen

Crabby Pattys that won't bust your gut

I am the first to admit that I am afraid to cook seafood. I actually think I am afraid to even purchase it. The grocery store selection frightens me, what if it's bad, what type of fish, how is it supposed to smell...blah blah blah.

I do however love to eat seafood and was craving crab cakes not too long ago. Most crab cakes can be pretty high in fat and calories or can sometimes taste greasy or heavy. I happened to be looking through the pages of Cooking Light when I stumbled upon a recipe makeover for lighter crab cakes. My craving intensified so I sucked up my seafood fear, went to the local fish market ( not grocery store ) and bought the supplies. My husband looked shocked when he saw me at work in the kitchen, but he quietly walked away and kept his thoughts to himself.

To both of our surprise they came out delicious and were indeed lighter, tasty, and fresh. Paired with a crisp salad it was the perfect Summer meal. According to Cooking Light the calories are more than cut in half- 292 versus 734, fat reduced from 8.6 grams of fat to 1.6 grams and the sodium went from 1,285 milligrams to 571 milligrams. Great for my husband who watches his sodium intake. Try the yourself and see.

Ingredients

Crab cakes:
2 tablespoons finely chopped fresh chives
1 tablespoon chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
1 1/2 tablespoons canola-based mayonnaise (such as Spectrum brand)
1/2 teaspoon grated lemon rind
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/8 teaspoon ground red pepper
1 large egg
1/3 cup panko (Japanese breadcrumbs)
1 pound lump crabmeat, drained and shell pieces removed
1 tablespoon olive oil, divided

Rémoulade:
1/4 cup canola-based mayonnaise
1 tablespoon chopped shallots
1 1/2 tablespoons capers, drained and chopped * I did not have capers so made without*
2 teaspoons Creole mustard
1 teaspoon fresh lemon juice
1/4 teaspoon ground red pepper
1/8 teaspoon kosher salt

Preparation
1. To prepare crab cakes, combine first 8 ingredients. Add panko and crab, tossing gently to combine. Cover and refrigerate 30 minutes.
2. Fill a 1/3-cup dry measuring cup with crab mixture. Invert onto work surface; gently pat into a 3/4-inch-thick patty. Repeat procedure with remaining crab mixture, forming 8 cakes.
3. Heat 1 1/2 teaspoons oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add 4 crab cakes to pan; cook 4 minutes or until bottoms are golden. Carefully turn cakes; cook 4 minutes or until bottoms are golden and crab cakes are thoroughly heated. Remove cakes from pan; keep warm. Wipe pan dry with paper towels. Heat remaining 1 1/2 teaspoons oil in pan. Repeat procedure with remaining 4 crab cakes.
4. To prepare rémoulade, combine 1/4 cup mayonnaise and remaining ingredients in a small bowl; stir with a whisk. Serve with crab cakes.

~ Karen

Tan like Snookie...without the bitch slapping side effects

Honestly I don't really want you all to get as tan as Snookie- excessively brown, sassy Jersey Shore girl for all of those who dont watch- but I do have to admit a tan person just looks better than a ghostly one. Me...I tend to be ghostly. I don't go to the tanning beds and when I do go outside I lather on the SPF. By July my freckles merge into a semi tan and I've gotten a baby glow about me. Olive skinned I am not, but I wish I were.

Self tanners are good but I am still on the hunt for the perfect one. Recently while reading Allure though I stumbled upon an article about the top sunless tanners by city and went straight for the Boston one. Indeed they did have a top for Boston and it's called Envy Mobile Tan by Kelly Conway. I called Kelly to get some info and found out the best thing ever...she comes to your house and spray tans you there and ( it gets even better here) she does spray tanning parties. Oooooohh! You supply the appetizers and cocktails, Kelly supplies the tan.

She comes equipped with a pop up tent that fully encloses you during your tan. While the other party guests are waiting is when the cocktails and food comes in. Fabulous right? The cost for each girl is only $25 dollars which is a steal for city prices, especially for a good and reputable place.

Now my big problem is that I am outside her travel area. Southie and Dorchester however are not for my girls who live there and would love to host....you know who you are. Before you say no, the hostess of the party gets a free tan .

http://www.envymobiletan.com/location.php

~ Karen

Who wears short shorts?...the answer is not me

I'm not quite sure what the majority of sane women are thinking lately but the new summer trend of super short shorts is so not working for me. The trend appears to be "hey, my shorts are so short you can see my ass cheeks". I don't like to look at my own cheeks forget someone elses. Unless you are a size 2 , underfed waif, the shorts just arent going to work for you. So I suppose for the majority of Hollywood the look is ok.

Now add to the ever diminishing shorts glitter...yeah thats right GLITTER.. and you've got Richard Simmons dream come true. I'll stick to my Bermudas thank you.

~ Karen

A Preemie Story - Part 4: Back Where it All Began

(Continued from: A Preemie Story - Part 3)

The strangest thing about being back at the hospital was having to repeat all the steps as if I had not just been there a day and a half earlier.

Step 1: register with OB check-in
Step 2: head to triage
Step 3: wait and wait some more
Step 4: answer all the doctor's questions as if I had not just answered the same questions 48 hours earlier

I was contracting-- of that I was sure, but for some reason the monitor could not pick it up. Each time I would feel my abdomen contract I watched the numbers on the monitor barely move.

"I know you can't tell but I swear this hurts a lot!" I told the nurse. She nodded sympathetically and adjusted the belly band. Still nothing.

The doctor came to see me and decided that it was time for an internal exam. Everyone else had stayed away from this option as they did not want to make an irritated cervix even more so. For whatever reason, my husband and I found this amusing.

"Irritated cervix," I chuckled. "Why is my cervix so sensitive? Did someone say something to make it mad?"

The mood in the triage room was light and calm as we bantered a bit with the night shift. The doctor prepared for the internal and said he was going to perform a fetal fibronectin test to determine if I was in labor. Turns out, we didn't need to know. After completing the internal there was blood - a large amount of blood - and the mood turned serious.

For a brief second the doctor and the nurse glanced at each other. It was in that glance I had everything I needed to know about the severity of the situation. Without a warning the doctor threw a sheet over my waist and the nurse pushed the side rails of the bed up and started rolling me down the hall.

"I can walk," I said.
"No. We want you as stationary as possible."

My husband followed the medical parade with my pocketbook in hand looking dazed. I watched the blood stain on the sheet covering me get bigger.  I instinctively put my hands on my belly and willed the baby to kick so I would know he was ok. He remained quiet.

Back to the labor and delivery room they carefully slid me over to a hospital bed where we, for the final time, tried not to have a baby.

...to be continued

~Davina

A Preemie Story - Part 3: The Shortest Longest Bedrest

(Continued from A Preemie Story - Part 2) 

I arrived home from the hospital on a Friday. My orders were to do nothing. Do not move. Do not climb stairs. Do not pass go. I walked in the door, up two flights of stairs (already breaking rules) to my bed and tried to remain still.

Bed rest sounds like a treat (who wouldn't want to be told you had to remain in bed?) but it's actually a nightmare. My mother made me tea and sat at the end of the bed trying not to look worried. My husband bought a Play Station 3 (I believe this is the guy version of retail therapy) and moved a mini fridge into our bedroom. He could not stop moving while I sat as still as stone. The anxiety in the house was so palpable and my stress from my stay in the hospital so clear, my two year old son took one look at me and started crying "NOOOOOOOOOOO. No Mama. No Mama".

I wanted to jump up out of bed, hug him, and tell him everything was going to be fine. But I really didn't know if that was the case. I made his squirmy body snuggle with me all the while trying to keep my belly out of harms way. I tickled him and he finally laughed. To him I had snuck out of the house 4 days earlier in the middle of the night. I didn't blame him for holding a grudge.

The day came to a close and my husband and I sat close together on the bed.

"How are we going to do this for 8 weeks?" I asked.
"We will manage," he replied.

One half day of bed rest had past.

The next day, Saturday, was much of the same. We had to all get used to the new world order where I did not do anything but everyone had to do everything for me. The minutes and hours ticked by painfully. Even my mother couldn't help but state the obvious as she made yet another cup of tea.

"How are you going to do this for 8 more weeks?"
"I don't know," I sighed.

My mother left our house around 5PM. My husband headed downstairs to give our son Grayson his dinner. Sitting alone for the first time in days, I took stock of how I felt. I did not miss the hospital but there was a part of me that took comfort hearing the baby's heartbeat and knowing he was ok. The magnesium had all but worked it's way out of my system and the sluggish feeling that followed me around had faded.

The entire day was such a whirlwind of adjusting to the new routine, I barely had time to register that I felt cramps. Now that I sat quiet and alone I felt a slight tightening in my abdomen.

At 7:30 my husband came upstairs after putting Grayson to bed. I told him about the tightening. I didn't yet want to commit to calling it "contractions" or "cramps". I just felt "off". I put a pillow between my knees and rolled to my side. The tightening lessened. A few minutes later it started again.

It was becoming clear that it was time to call the doctor again.  What started as an 8 week bed rest was about to turn into only a day and a half.

Next up: A Preemie Story - Part 4: Back Where it all Began

~Davina

A Preemie Story - Part 2: "Try Not to Have the Baby"

(Continued from A Preemie Story - Part 1) 

How do you stop a run-away train? Well, the truth is, you can't. Once the chain of events are set into motion, the best case scenario is to delay the inevitable crash.

So that's what we did, we delayed the birth of my son. At 31 weeks he was in the danger zone for a host of problems. None of which were a guarantee, but all of which were a concern. Breathing issues, low birth weight, organ failure. His body needed time to develop and time was the one thing on short supply.

And so began the drugs. An IV drip for magnesium sulfate to slow down the labor and boost his brain development. A round of steroid injections to improve his lungs. An antibiotic drip for group B strep. The machine supplying the drugs became a companion, my hope, my baby's protector (yes this is an actual photo of my IV drip).

One after another I heard babies being born down the hall let out their first cry. "Am I the only one on this floor trying to NOT have a baby?" I asked the doctor. "No," he responded, "There are more like you".

As Wednesday and Thursday passed the mood in my room became a bit more optimistic. The drugs were having some impact and my body began to slow down the labor progression. The question was, when they stopped the magnesium drip, would nature take over again? Somewhere in my heart I knew the answer was yes, but the doctors felt they had a handle on the situation so I tried to be positive along with them.

On Friday-- three days after being admitted to the hospital-- a doctor came into my room.

"So, how are we today?"
"Well, no bleeding," I responded.
"Cramping?"
"Some, but mild," I answered.

The doctor looked disappointed but informed me that they were thinking of sending me home. Having done as much as they could, it made more sense for me to be at home with my family. I could see the logic, but the nagging thought that this ride was not over would not leave me. I thought of the night it all began. The relief I felt getting to the hospital and having medical professionals watch over me. At home was different. I would be on strict bed rest. For 8 weeks. With a two year old. That's like trying to run a marathon without sneakers-- it probably could be done, but far from ideal.

Friday afternoon I was discharged. The doctor came in and read us the rules of strict bed rest:

1. No stairs (I live in a three story house)
2. A shower is fine but be quick about it
3. No picking up laundry, your son, or anything heavier than a feather
4. Nothing in your vagina

My husband and I giggled at the last one. Sex was the last thing on our minds and of course I would never think to use a tampon.

"Damn," I said to my husband. "Where are we going to store that coin collection?"
"We'll just have to find a new place to keep all those old books," he responded with a smile. 

And off we went. The nurses all waved goodbye. One even gave me her phone number if I needed anything. "Hope not to see you soon," they said. I smiled and thanked them all for taking such good care of me. At that moment, I loved each and every one of them.

I left the labor and delivery ward as pregnant as when I arrived.

Next Up: A Preemie Story - Part 3: The Longest Shortest Bed Rest
~Davina

A Preemie Story - Part I: Ready or Not...

Part 1: Ready or Not...

On March 7, 2010 my son Quentin was born 8 weeks early. The experience was sudden, unexpected, terrifying, surreal, and confusing.

A week before he was born, my husband and I watched television and went to bed per our normal routine. That night I tossed and turned. Back and forth, up and down to the bathroom. I had to pee, but nothing was really coming out. I felt nauseous.

Around 2:30 AM I made one final trip to the bathroom. I looked down and there, as gross as it sounds, was blood and a lot of it. I had been bleeding the whole pregnancy. The doctors really didn't think much of it (bleeding can happen for no real reason) but had one eye on me for good measure. I had seen blood before in the middle of the night, but this was different. I felt different. I remember feeling dread-- I knew this was not good but I was not scared, yet.

I shook my husband awake.

"We have a problem."

He was groggy at first and just to show him I wasn't being an alarmist, I made him look into the toilet bowl. The sight of so much blood snapped him out of the haze.

"We are calling the doctor, right now." he informed me.

Because all emergencies happen in the middle of the night (of course this would not happen at noon on a Tuesday) we were put through to Brigham and Women's hospital. Still somewhat calm, I told the attending my issues. This was not my first time calling after hours, but this was the first time I knew I needed to be seen. The pit of dread started spreading from my belly out to my fingers and toes. I began to feel anxious.

We called my mom. With as much calm as I could muster, I explained the situation and she scrambled out the door to watch our two year old son.


What to Expect When You're Expecting does not cover middle of the night hospital runs when your two year old is sleeping and you are only 31 weeks. This was where our story diverged from the books and the uncertainty was terrifying. On the drive to the hospital the streets were empty. A cop car pulled out behind us and despite his desire to blow all red lights, Brian was compelled to slow down.

We discussed the "what-ifs".

"What if this baby is born now?" Brian asked.
"It's not good." I replied.
We sat in silence.

Even in a major city like Boston, the hospital is quiet at night. I checked in with the OB office where an office worker took all my info.

"Are you in labor?" she asked.
"I hope not." I replied.

We were escorted up to triage where Brian and I sat, held hands, and waited. Waited for our names to be called and waited for someone to tell us that this was all going to be ok.  Minutes ticked by and the relief that we felt for making to the hospital was replaced with an anxious impatience. Why hadn't anyone seen us yet? We sat. And sat some more. Finally we were called.

The doctors had more questions than answers. How long have you been bleeding? What is your pain on a scale of 1-10? How much blood? How often do you bleed? At 4AM we were sent for an ultra-sound where another doctor sat silently studying the images. I wanted him to say something, anything, but his silence scared me. It was clear that idle chit-chat was not appropriate or encouraged. It didn't matter, I didn't know what to say anyway.

The baby was fine but my cervix was shortened. Things were moving. Maybe it was the start of labor but it was possible that it could be slowed down. I was informed that 31 weeks is not good-- 32 is much better. If we could get me to stay pregnant for 4 more days, that would be a help. Though he tried to hide it, there was concern on the doctor's face. I began to cry and the triage nurse hugged me.

At 4:30 Wednesday morning I was admitted and  officially became a labor and delivery patient trying not to have a baby.

Next Up: A Preemie Story - Part 2: "Try Not to Have the Baby"

~Davina