So this happened.

I was innocently driving to work, when I saw a spider on the inside of my windshield. This is what filled my brain next:

OMG OMG OMG there is a spider in my car! Where's that tissue I had... there. Oh no, the spider is gone. Where did it go?? It was crawling toward the crack between the windshield and the car, maybe it's in the dark area. Oh no, stay in this lane. Don't need to have an accident on the interstate. Imagine explaining that? "There was a spider in my car, officer! No, not a huge one, quite small actually. But STILL!" Yeah, don't see that going over well. I still can't find it. OMG. OMG. Ok, you're okay. Deep breaths. Deep breaths and the shudders and goosebumps should go away. Maybe. OMG my leg itches! What if it fell down and crawled up the side of my boot and now is in my pants?! Or in my boot?? OMG it itches!! There's a spider in my boot. What am I going to do? It has to get out! Calm down, it's highly unlikely the spider crawled up your boot and down into it that quickly, and you would have felt it going down your leg, not just a sudden spot. Probably. Ok, traffic light. Time to examine that crack where the window meets the car and find that spider and squish it. Where is it? OMG it's not there. It IS in my boot after all! Oh it itches! It's going to bite me!! Deep breaths, you can do this. Almost to work. Do NOT pull over and run out of the car screaming. Do not. It's not that bad. Deep breaths.

****

Finally I made it to work. I went straight to the restroom and took off my pants, socks, and boots to check for spiders. Nothing.

For the record, I'm not that much of a crazy person! I was bitten by a spider, too quickly to see what kind other than it's small size, and discovered I'm allergic to spiders. And crawling across your windshield right in front of your face is NO picnic, either.

I hope it's gone by the end of the work day.
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To understand me

Today's post is from a writing prompt blog.
"What is something about you people do not seem to understand no matter how many times you try to explain?"

I thought about this one a while, and had nothing. But for some reason, it stuck with me. Then on my way home tonight it hit me.

What most people don't seem to understand is that behind the public "me," behind any confidence or bravado I show the world, is an insecure, shy little girl. A girl who doesn't think anything she does is good enough. A girl who needs reassurance that yes, people really like her. A girl who hates that she needs reassurance. A girl who rarely phones her friends because she convinces herself that they don't want to hear from her or truly like her but are just humoring her and trying to figure out how to get off the line. A girl who second-guesses everything she does or says.

I don't like that little girl much, and try to silence her, but she's always there, waiting just under the surface. She slips out when I'm tired, when I'm in a new situation or around new people. She whispers in my ear, pointing out all my flaws and insecurities. She points and laughs at me, mocking me.

I want to make her go away but I don't know how.

Date night!

After Christmas, my husband and I were given restaurant gift cards to use for a night out, just the two of us. We finally took time for that last night, and went to Longhorn Steakhouse. I'm not a steak fan, but I wasn't in a pasta mood (shocking, right?) so I quickly pulled up the menu on my phone as he was driving and liked the choices.

Interestingly, the picture I found is exactly what I had - Grilled Chicken & Stuffed Portabella. From the menu description: "Tender grilled chicken breast topped with mushroom sauce and a cheese stuffed portabella mushroom." The meal came with a salad and a side, and I chose the mixed greens salad and baked sweet potato.



Photo courtesey Longhorn Steakhouse website



The salad itself was pretty good, but the dressing (raspberry vinaigrette) was not. It was very light on raspberry and heavy on the vinegar! I just couldn't finish the salad.



The food came fairly quickly. The mushroom sauce wasn't exactly what I had expected; it was more like a brown gravy with mushrooms but was okay. The chicken itself was very good, but the sauce could have been left off easily. However, the portabella was perfection. Seriously, I would have happily ate a plate of nothing but stuffed portabellas and been satisfied. (Just a suggestion, if anyone at Longhorn happens to read this - you really should offer a stuffed portabella entree! I'm not kidding - that would be fantastic!) I was also satisfied with the baked sweet potato - it came with both brown sugar and cinnamon along with butter, and was baked to a soft perfection. 

As tempting as the desserts looked, we were just too full.

We had a good time. It's nice to get out just the two of us, even though it doesn't happen as often as we'd like. I'm very thankful, though, that after fifteen years we still enjoy each other's company and still find things to talk about.



- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

I made cinnamon rolls! (Dye-free)

We like cinnamon rolls on weekends. However, last month it dawned on me to check the labels of the canned ones we usually make, and every single brand has artificial dyes. (Good thing Miss Sophie doesn't eat much.) I suspect it's the icing, but didn't want to take the chance. So, we've been without.

This morning I woke up thinking about cinnamon rolls, and had an idea. I made regular biscuit dough, and made the roll with that. With some melted butter and homemade icing, we had an ooey gooey breakfast.

Recipe:
2 1/2 c Bisquick
2/3 c milk
1/2 stick butter, melted
1/8 c brown sugar
1 tsp (estimated) cinnamon

Make biscuit dough with the Bisquick and milk. Knead and roll out into a rectangle approximately 1 cm thick. Brush with some of the melted butter. Combine brown sugar & cinnamon in a small bowl, and cover the rectangle. Roll the dough into a log, and slice into 1/2 inch thick slices.

Pour most of the remaining melted butter into the bottom of a round pan. Arrange the cinnamon rolls in the pan and brush with any remaining leftover butter. Bake at 350 for 15 minutes.

For the icing, I poured about 1/4 c half and half into a small bowl and added around 1 tsp vanilla. I stirred in approximately 1 c powdered sugar, 1/4 c at a time, until it was thick enough to glaze the rolls. (I didn't actually measure anything in the icing, I just mixed & added until it looked right.) when the cinnamon rolls were finished baking, I poured the glaze over them. It didn't sit on top like thicker icings, but soaked in the rolls.

They were delicious!

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Self-love

In my inbox today was the latest email from Kind Over Matter. I love that site and her positive message. A post today was about self love. Not *that* kind of self love, but loving who you are and showing it. I've been down lately which leads to beating myself up over everything, so I think I need to try a little loving instead.

And I'm struggling. I left this open for an hour and still nothing. Everything I can think of I then talk myself out of. I'm organized at work (but my house makes me stabby). I mostly cook good food (but am in such a rut lately and totally messed up the pomegranate balsamic marinade earlier in the week). I used to like my hair, but even it's become nondescript. People can't even correctly tell what color it is when standing in front of me! And how can I look like both a blond and a brunette when I have red hair? When E was little I heard "Oh she looks just like you!" and now I get "Where do your girls get their red hair?" Really?

Anyway, it seems like my self-love muscle needs a bit of a workout. Maybe I need some homework.

Stay tuned.

Dye-free birthday party

If you want to read about how we managed a completely artificial dye-free birthday party, check out my other blog, Adventures in Babyfooding!

Pictures included :)

Three!

Today, Miss Sophie turned three.

Three!

She's growing so quickly, and looks more like little girl now than toddler. She is so funny and imaginative, and a bit scrappy, I've noticed. I don't know if it's just her personality, or a defense mechanism from being the littlest in the family. Either way, it's hilarious.

Current favorites (in no particular order):

Curious George
Hello Kitty
Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood
bedtime stories
blocks
baby dolls
stickers
crayons and coloring
spinning in circles
quacking (must be a little kid thing...)
chocolate milk
ice
spaghetti
pancakes
bacon
chicken nuggets
dinosaur anything
red
trains
airplanes
cows and horses
visiting the zoo
her pink boots
gymnastics
her friends
her family
our dogs
Bunny
singing and dancing

It's a matter of perspective

A small business owner, a pastry chef, was taking a selection of pies to an event to sell & promote his business. A random guy on the street approached, and wanted free samples from the chef. The chef informed the man he could gladly have a pie, if he paid for it. He couldn't afford to give away his product!

***************

An impoverished, hungry man was on the street & spotted a man with a huge load of pies. He was embarrassed at his situation, but his empty stomach gave him courage. He approached the man and asked for a taste of a pie, such a simple pleasure that had been denied to him. The man with the pies was very offended and refused to give up any portion without payment.

*********

Simple Simon met a pieman going to the fair
Said Simple Simon to the pieman, "Let me taste your wares."
Said the pieman to Simple Simon, "Show me first your penny."
Said Simple Simon to the pieman, "Indeed I have not any."




- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Organized?

Maybe it's just because January is the month of resolutions, and many people want to get more organized. Maybe it's a sign from the universe.
Maybe it's just coincidence...
But first I read a post from a friend on Facebook that she's power-organizing her house today and I commented that I would love to have a chance to do that. Seriously, I wish I could take a few days off from work, take Sophie to daycare, and clean like crazy. I hate my house right now.
Then, I chose today's date in this app and the prompt is "Do you think of yourself as an organized person? What do you do to organize your life?"

Umm...
I PLAN on organizing my life. I WANT to organize my life. I'd love to have it all together, to know where everything is and have a place for everything. I even have a board on Pinterest dedicated to that very thing. But three things are missing from my plan: time, energy, and cooperation. I need everyone on board with this plan, and so far while I get agreement on the idea of a clean, organized house, the actual participation is lacking.
So, to answer the question, I do like to think of myself as an organized person, although one living in a state of chaos. Maybe someday soon I'll actually use the ideas I've collected to accomplish something.

I have no title for this.

I've mentioned my high school best friend before. He died two years ago.
Yesterday I learned that his grandmother is in a nursing home. He lived with her when we were friends, until he found his birth father and moved to Alabama to try living with him and his wife and other children (my friend had a complicated childhood). I found this out because his grandmother's roomate is her sister-in-law, a wonderful lady who was like a grandmother to me growing up. I always claimed three sets of grandparents because of this woman and her husband.

I haven't seen his grandmother in many years, even though my friend and I had kept in touch sporadically over the years. I didn't see her at his funeral, but it had been so many years since I'd seen his family that the only people I recognized were his mother and his wife. For some reason, knowing his grandmother is in a nursing home makes me miss him more. It would be so nice to be able to call or, more realistically, Facebook message or text him to talk about this. Maybe even visit.

I don't even know where I'm going with these thoughts, or why I'm writing them here. But this has been on my mind since yesterday. Even though we weren't close any more, I still felt better knowing he was around. I learned a long time ago that I couldn't save him - believe me I tried when we were younger- and that ultimitely he had to save himself. But why didn't I put more effort into our friendship when he moved back here? I had his phone number, I knew where he worked. I have no idea. We couldn't have gone back to the same kind of friendship, but a new kind with our families and get-togethers and who knows what.

Or maybe not. Years had passed, and we were different people. But I'll never know. I still wish I could talk to him, though. It's a strange feeling to remember that he's not out there somewhere living his life.

New on my playlist

I am really loving this. A duet by my favorite rock couple, singing my favorite Bush song. Both very talented people, and they sing well together. And their sweet smiles and kiss at the end makes me smiley.

Doubt

I'm being too hard on myself today. As I told friends yesterday, my inner critic is a bitch and I hate her. Yesterday, she was silent. The words flowed from my brain to my keyboard like magic. Everything was wonderful. I was excited.

Today, she's back. She asks me what I think I'm trying to do, why anyone would want to read anything I write. I'm second-guessing like crazy - the big idea that inspired my story to continue and just might be the big plot line that drives the whole thing now seems like an exercise in futility.

I keep telling myself that the first draft is just that - first draft. I don't and can't produce perfection the first try. I compare the words on my screen to books I'm reading and cringe at the comparison. My logical side knows that all the published books I read had many drafts and revisions, but my inner self-doubt tells me I'll never good enough.

I hate my inner critic. But I have no idea how to make her go away.

Does everyone who writes feel like this? What does it take to be confident? How does one silence the inner doubt?

Boheme, interrupted

Rent is one of my favorite movies ever. I have the soundtrack and listen to it almost every day on my way home from work. I love it. My favorite song from the movie, like many others, is La Vie Boheme (click for the video). Since I have a longish commute, I tend to ponder different things. For instance, what draws me to this song so strongly?

Finally, it hit me. In another life, if I was braver and more free, that could have been me. I would have loved living in New York City, using my creativity, surrounding myself with friends who are also creative. I could have fit right in with the arty world. Sure, in the movie they don't make lots of money, but the freedom they enjoy is incredible. Freedom to create what they want, perform how they want, love who they want, make friends with who they want. No judgements, just love and acceptance.

Not that I don't love my life now - but a different version of me... That could have been my dream.

Something new

On my way to work this morning, I had an idea for a blog post. Then I thought about making a series of posts. Then I realized I had enough for an entirely seperate blog like this.

And so, Letters to my Daughters was born.

This is not a blog to replace Inspired Life, but a sister blog. It is my hope that my oldest will read this regularly, and when my youngest is old enough that she will read the letters also. Some will be for one or the other, some will be for both. It's a place for me to say to them the things that are hard to say in person.

Conflicted

I'm conflicted about something. I seem to have a contradiction in my brain and can't figure it out.

Lately, I've been reading some silly, cheesy romance novels.  Hello, free Kindle books! But, they're fun, easy reads, take my mind of the stress of the past few months, and I can generally knock one out on my lunch break.  On the other hand, I hate romantic movies. We watched a Hallmark movie today and I couldn't stop rolling my eyes at the ridiculousness of it - not to mention the formulaic predictability. But how is that different than the books I've been reading? It's not, I suppose. Although if the ending of the books I read is too over the top cheesy, I get mad and hate the entire book. Like there was one I read, I can't even remember which one by name, where the heroine had just gotten out of a 3 year relationship/engagement. Something major had happened to make her lose trust in men; the ex cheated or something like that. Doesn't matter - she was weeks out of this. She meets the male lead, they go out on a couple dates, are consumed with passion for each other like two hormonal teenagers whose parents are away, and within weeks are engaged to be married.

Seriously? What sane woman would jump into an engagement with that much baggage? What sane man would want her to? Every time the books end with an engagement after mere weeks I get irritated.

But then I feel like a giant hypocrite. Because my husband and I were engaged within weeks, and married four months after we met. But, I'm not a romantical person, so I'm conflicted still.

Then, I think "Forget it." In the end, it's all brain candy.