Back to the Meal Plan

Drive thru, take out, drive thru, take out, dine out, and so on. Are we the only ones who do this?

It’s time to get back to the plan – the meal plan. I don’t think I’ve made a proper meal at home since getting back from our fabulous Hawaiian vacation (five weeks ago, yo). House wife fail.

I’ve started a board on Pinterest called Summer Dinner Planning. Right now there’s tons of yummy salads pinned. I’m still working on adding lighter summer fare there. So, if you have any Pinterest board recommendations – please leave me a link in the comments!

summer-dinner-meal-plan

For this week:

Monday – Grilled fish tacos

Tuesday – Italian Chicken

Wednesday – Pork Chops with chipotle maple barbecue sauce and I think these carrot and zucchini “Fries”

Thursday – no dinner planned at home because my little sister is going to her high school prom and we’re going to see her all dressed up!

Friday – a modified version of these pepperoni rolls

Have a great Monday everyone!  I’ll be back Wednesday to resurrect an old blog series and I’ll also kick off a Shakeology giveaway on my Facebook later this week too.  You won’t want to miss out on that!  YUM!

Tattle Tale – By Keesha from Mom’s New Stage

It’s finally Friday and I’m pleased to introduce you all to Keesha from Mom’s New Stage!  Before her two children re-choreographed her life, Keesha was a professional dancer who performed in the U.S. and in Europe. Today she is a master modern and jazz dance teacher in the Chicago area. She is also the human cyclone behind the popular blog Mom’s New Stage. A multitasker at heart, she shows fierce skills at simultaneously writing, choreographing, checking Facebook and Pinterest updates, playing the role of a mother named Joan “Kumbaya” Crawford, and overcooking food. Her writing has been featured on Mampedia.com and recently in the bestselling anthology I Just Want to Pee Alone. Have a great weekend!  - Wendy

tattletale-guest-post-keesha-beckford

Vehicularly speaking it’s been a bad week.

No, nothing happened to my car.  It’s what happened to me when parking my car was involved.  I became an angry white man with a perm!

Just kidding.

Anyway, anyone who reads this blog knows I’m a bit loopy.  But I am a loving mom to two wonderfully, and perhaps miraculously, well adjusted children. I manage to be the C.O.O. of a cluttered, yet clean, well-stocked home where everyone eats, for the most part, healthful food and enjoys clean clothes.  I have a job where I am respected.  I have many good friends who are themselves accomplished, intelligent, empathetic, rational, loving people.

So why in the past few days have I been behaving like a girl duo featuring Tyler Perry’s Madea and Lucy Ricardo?

And no, it’s not THAT.

First there was the person who parked his bumper literally up on my grille over the weekend.  Ignoring the requests of my husband,  I grabbed a piece of paper from my bag, marched into a fancy boutique to borrow a pen, and as the shopgirls nervously peeked at my paper to see if this mad black woman was going to make it their last day on earth, I penned a VERY nasty note.  Then I flashed the girls a big grin, thanked them, scurried back outside, stuck my angry missive on the offender’s back windshield, and Austin Powersed my car out of the spot.

Then yesterday, after I’d been circling half the South Loop for a free spot for over 30 minutes, I found a space, available except for the fact that a woman was standing there, reserving it.  Standing there!  I noticed a cop in his cruiser further up the street and I asked him if holding a spot on foot was legal.  He said no.  He u-turned in front of me warning me not to pull into him, and reprimanded the driver of the now parked car.  I u-turned as well, having thought the spot might still be free.  I continued on, prepared to give up and put my car in a lot or at a meter.

And then lo and behold, I saw a gorgeous, huge spot, shining like a beacon in the woods.

On the other side of the street.

I don’t know what I was thinking.  Maybe that I had just done it.  Maybe that the cop had just done it.  Maybe I thought he wouldn’t notice, even though he was 50 yards away, facing me.

Wouldn’t notice?  Really?  How out to lunch without a sandwich could I have been?

So I u-turned, and lined up to park.

“Don’t make a u-turn in front of an intersection!” A voice scolded.  It was the cop, who’d pulled up beside me.  I made the best cute-dumb-sorry face I could muster without having taken acting classes.  ”I could write you a huge ticket.  Go ahead and park.”

Thank God he let me go.  J would have killed me; he’s warned me about my u-turn fetish a bajillion times.  And how perfect would that have been – a $200+ dollar ticket as the cost of a free space.

No one likes a tattle tale.  Or a crazy lady who leaves nasty notes on people’s cars.  I consider myself warned.  Karma’s a bit–, ain’t it?

Do we act worse behind our cars the more out of control we feel?  Are there any other folks out there who feel that their driving has become worse, not better, as one would think, since they became a parent?

keesha-beckford-moms-new-stageWant to read more from Keesha?  Here’s a couple of great posts I know you will love!   Oh, by the way… how killer is that photo of her jumping while preggers? 

She gives us 10 Things That Suck for My Partner, A Letter to a Dance Student, and the oh so perfect 10 Movie Remakes for Moms and Dads.  

Find her on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, and Google+.

American Cancer Society: Finishing the Fight (sponsored video)

American_Cancer_Society_Logo2This is a sponsored post written by me on behalf of the American Cancer Society!  I’m thrilled to have this opportunity to share my experience with cancer as a part of the American Cancer Society’s 100th Birthday Celebration!  It’s important that my readers know a “sponsored post” means that I am being compensated for what I have written.  However, all thoughts and opinions are my own and I would never accept an invitation to write sponsored content if it wasn’t a project I truly stood behind.  In fact, I have decided that the compensation I will receive for writing this post will be donated to the American Cancer Society in an effort to finish this fight.

I learned at a young age to be afraid of cancer because my first experience with the disease left me without a best friend.  As a high school freshman, Mindy was diagnosed with a childhood cancer.  She felt a lump in her groin and I remember the day her sister called to tell me that it was indeed malignant.  I didn’t know what that meant exactly, but I knew it wasn’t good and the dictionary confirmed it; Evil and life threatening.  Cancer and its treatment ravaged Mindy’s ballerina body and turned her into a ghost – literally.  Nearly twenty three years later, I still miss her.

Fast forward to 2008.  I lay on a table with my left arm over my head, the doctors talked in whispers while looking at the computer screen.  Hot tears rolled into my ears and dripped onto the paper beneath me.  Two days later I got the call from my doctor who informed me that my own tumor was malignant.  Those words – evil and life threatening – burned into my brain years before were now mine.

I was 33 years old and I had stage II breast cancer.

In a couple of months, I’ll celebrate five years of being NED (no evidence of disease).  It didn’t come easy though as I endured several rounds of chemotherapy and weeks upon weeks of radiation treatment.  I take cancer blocking drugs daily and deal with the psychological aftermath of what this disease brings.  Two out of three people are cancer survivors.  I’m thankful to be one of these people.  I wish I could say the same for my sweet friend Mindy.

It’s been kind of cancer heavy around the blog this week but I’m an advocate at heart and truly believe that change cannot be made when we’re silent.  I’d love for you to take 1 minute and 34 seconds right now to watch this video.  The American Cancer Society will celebrate its 100th birthday on May 22, 2013 and they want to lead the loudest. most aggressive assault on cancer.  I hear their rally cry loud and clear.  Will you?

American Cancer Society has led the way in saving lives over the last century.  Their advancements in cancer research has contributed to a 20% decline in cancer related deaths since the early 1990s.  They have given nearly 1.2 million people more birthdays during that time!  All this thanks to 15 doctors and business leaders who thought it was time to start raising awareness about a topic many didn’t want to even talk about.  Think about the potential we have today to raise even more awareness!  Sharing this blog post or the video above with your friends and family is one simple step to finish this fight!

The goals of ACS include

• Ensuring lifesaving cancer research continues to get funded.

• Enroll 300,000 people in a historic research study known as CPS-3.

• Making sure the people who need assistance are getting it.

• Keep fighting the good fight so that we continue to celebrate more birthdays, have quality health care,  access to lifesaving screenings and more.

Will you join me in finishing this fight? 

All you have to do is share this blog post.  Tweet it.  Facebook it.  Heck, even email it.  Whatever you do, MAKE SOME NOISE!

This post is sponsored by the American Cancer Society

“My Perspective” on being BRCA +

It is downright scary how worlds collide in the blogosphere.  Just days ago, I “met” Mollie West when I bought her BlogHer’13 ticket.  While messaging back and forth over the details, she mentioned that she looked at my blog and called me “amazing” – and then I knew she was cool!  Anyway, Mollie writes several blogs including one called Tata to the Tatas.  Clever name, right?  There she blogs about being BRCA+ and her journey through all of her prophylactic surgeries.  Ring a bell?  Yes, the same surgery Angelina Jolie just wrote about in the New York Times.  While I’ve read a lot of criticism over the last 24 hours about Jolie’s decision to remove her breasts, I applaud her being transparent and using her celebrity to bring awareness to the disease.  But, I also think it’s important for people to know that there are everyday women facing this same decision and that it’s not an easy one to make nor is the surgery a piece of cake.  Help me welcome Mollie as she shares a powerful piece called “My Perspective” on being BRCA positive.

i-want-to-live-not-just-survive

courtesy of Tata to the Tatas

Now that I’ve met with my doctors I feel like there is nothing left to do but wait…wait and read every single blog ever written by women that have undergone prophylactic bilateral mastectomies.  The views inside these women’s lives have surprised me more than any information thus far.  My goal for my blog was strictly information.  After reading so many other blogs I decided that I need to give more background, more of a view from my perspective.

I can’t remember the exact day, but I can pinpoint the day that cancer started affecting my life.  I was in a graveyard with my mom sitting by her mother’s gravestone, asking her to tell me about her mom.  From what I can remember my mom mostly discussed cancer and her mother’s untimely death.  My mom only had a mother until she was 16 and she felt that the most important thing to tell me was about my grandmother’s stoic fight against this disease.

 

I celebrated the 10th anniversary of the passing of my mother this last weekend.  I guess I can consider myself lucky in comparison because I had a mother for 23 years of my life.  I’ll take that extra seven years again and again.  I realized that my recount of my mother’s life is very similar to my mom’s about her mom.  It always starts with the fact that my mom fought cancer for almost 12 years.  That’s right – my mom was in a constant battle with the disease for over half of my life.  My mom is the strongest person that I know and I want the world to hear how she survived much longer than any doctor predicted and kept a positive attitude year after year, treatment after treatment.  It saddens me, though, because I realize how cancer is the focus.  I rarely recount the time that we found out that I am allergic to penicillin because my body was covered internally and externally with hives after prescribed the medication to combat bronchitis and a sinus infection and my mom let me lay on her lap as she continued to rub me to relieve some of the itchy sensation.  Or during my senior year how I didn’t make the cheerleading squad (although I cheered since 8th grade) and how she let me cry as she held me and vowed that she would make it right.  True to her word, I cheered my senior year.  Why do I never begin telling about my mom with her being my mom, not a victim to cancer?  Or even that she wasn’t the most outgoing person, but if anyone who gave her a chance to befriend them was forever touched by her positive, loving, and gentle nature.  Why don’t I lead with her character instead of her situation?

 

One of the greatest gifts my mom passed down was being the first person in our family to get testing for the BRCA mutation.  Cancer was so prevalent with diagnoses as early as 28 years old and no survivors.  That’s right.  No one in my family has been able to celebrate their remission.  I think the entire family didn’t question that we had a mutation, but it was my mom that gave her blood to find out exactly where it was.  She did that shortly before her death.

 

The first tested was my cousin who is three months younger than me.  She is a carrier.  She received the mutation from her father.  Despite our closeness in age, we were at very different points in our lives in 2003 when she underwent testing.  She was newly married, months away from becoming a pharmacist, and ready to start a family.  I was working as a legal secretary (my first office job) with a relatively new boyfriend.  She was ready to find out so that she could plan her life and move on.  I was not.  That’s exactly what she did.  In 2006 she had a daughter followed by a son in 2007.  After a couple of bad gynecological exams she decided that the hysterectomy took precedence.  That happened the summer of 2009 and by fall she had both breasts removed with expanders placed for later implant insertion.  That happened the spring of 2010.  Her surgeries concluded later that year.

 

In 2006 I graduated with my BBA and started on my MBA.  I was still dating that boyfriend that seemed rather new in 2003 and my education was finally falling into place.  I had a pretty good steady job now (with insurance), so early 2007 I decided that it was time.  My older sister (by two years) and younger sister (by four years) had still not been tested, so I would be the first in our immediate family.  I was nervous.  I was anxious.  Honestly I kind of liked being the first because for some reason people associated that with braveness (still think that it’s an odd association, but sure, I’ll be brave).  I think that it was a lot like my cousin and my situation, though – my sisters were at a different stage in their lives.  I was wondering if this was the boy that I was going to marry and have my children with.  If he was the one that knew all of the information before any commitment and would still choose to stay with me through it all.  Neither of my sisters seemed to be contemplating this yet.

 

The testing is quite uneventful.  Take some blood.  Send it off.  Get results.  I know that a lot of information was covered.  I know that I was very emotional.  I remember Dad and me getting lunch and me chugging a dirty martini immediately upon arrival home.  I don’t remember much more than that.  I think that it’s because it was such an emotional process that I felt like I was in a dream through most of it and like a dream it fades as soon as you wake up, or in this case as soon as reality hits you and you need to be present in life.

 

I had one thing that I was counting on – at least one of my sisters had to have this, too, right?  I know it’s a 50/50 chance, but our gene seems to be incredibly aggressive.  My mother has three siblings and we know that three out of the four have the mutation and the fourth hasn’t tested yet.  Sounds like crappier than 50/50 odds, right?  Let me clear something up – I do not want either of sisters to have the mutation.  It’s not something that I would wish on anyone.  What I wanted was a partner through this journey.  I had grown up with these women.  Lived with them for the majority of my life.  I know them.  I love them.  Their understanding and support would mean the world to me.

 

I don’t remember when each of them tested, but it seemed to be forever after me and it seemed to be close together.  I can’t even remember which one tested first, but I think my older sister was first if I were to guess.  As they tested I sat and waited.  Who would be my partner?  My confident?  Who could I form this everlasting, unique bond with?  Would it be the older?  The younger?  BOTH?  I had visions of each of us recovering from surgeries completely understanding the others pain, emotions, vulnerability and caring for each other like no one else could.  As each tested negative I couldn’t help but feel a bit of desperation along with my elation.

 

I didn’t really feel too much of the “why me?” at that point.  All of that came when I tested positive.  I felt alone.  Honestly, I felt abandoned.  They couldn’t help that.  Each of them were so scared to tell me their results that I actually felt guilty.  And so alone.

 

That’s when I started searching within myself.  My real, blood, family sisters can’t be my BRCA sisters.  Now what?  It wasn’t until I talked with my cousin that I realized what I wanted.  It was because it is what she wanted.  We want the exact same thing – to put cancer behind us and never speak of it again.

 

It was at that moment that I started to plan.  I planned my life through the surgeries.  After that, I am a blank canvas.

 

I wanted to get married and have two children.  In 2007 after confirming that I carry the mutation, I pretty much ultimatum-ed that long-term boyfriend.  I told him exactly that – married and two kids and either he was in or he needed to be out as soon as possible.  We were married in 2008.  It looks like those prophylactic mastectomies would have to be put on hold for a while longer.  We tried to enjoy life as we moved on with “the plan”.  After a miscarriage, my first son was born in 2009.  Another miscarriage, but then another blessing, a son in 2011.  I nursed both of them.  Now it’s time to be proactive.

 

My body has cooperated with “the plan” so far.  My mammograms and ultrasounds have been clean.  Besides battling this baby weight, I am healthy.

 

This is what I want.  I want to undergo prophylactic bilateral mastectomies and a preventative hysterectomy.  I want my sons to reminisce about the days that I kissed boo-boos, helped them look stunning for their prom, cheered them on at sports/math league/marching band, and gave them advice long into adulthood.  I do not want them to begin their stories of my brave (hopefully!) face during cancer treatments, or my fight before my defeat.  I want it gone before they can remember.  I want to be the first generation that’s story doesn’t begin with cancer.

 

I was told to join FORCE and Bright Pink.  To walk in Relay for Life and find other women.  This is all excellent advice, if that’s your thing.  It’s not for me.  At least right now.  I am excelling in my career and raising two energetic boys.  I have a husband that I adore and our time is so limited right now (due to this career and these cute babes), why would I abandon that to look for support?  I have all the support right here.

 

I’ve noticed that a lot of women have realized true friendships and have lost friends during their journey.  I feel for these women understanding that it’s such an emotional process anyway.  Fortunately, that’s not at all what it’s about for me.  I have an amazing support group.  Although my sisters can’t be my BRCA sisters, they are still my real, blood, family sisters.  Both are always there.  My cousin is amazing.  We pop in and out of each others lives with many miles separating us and young children occupying us.  I believe that we will both always be there for each other whenever needed.  My family is so close.  Then my friends.  They mean the world to me.  Each being supportive in their own unique way.  Portraying love in every offer of assistance or reassurance that they will, indeed, be there.

 

I read this on another blog and loved it – my boobs have six months to live.  My initial surgery is scheduled for January 17, 2013.  I scheduled it today and later realized that it is six months to the date.

 

That’s my story.  I’m not a warrior against cancer.  I may be some day, though.  Right now I am trying to create an experience that not many women in my family get – to live cancer-free.

 
Read more from Mollie West at Tata to the Tatas. Her blog is powerful, transparent, and informative. As mentioned above, she also writes at Full Plate Momma and Newly Organic. You can also follow her on Twitter and Facebook.

Understanding Why Angelina Jolie Removed Both Breasts

This post has been slightly edited this morning to reflect new information.  I was completely stunned last night when I saw Greta Van Susteren’s tweet last night that read “Angelina Jolie had a double mastectomy.”  I was  stunned further when I read that Jolie had a prophylactic double mastectomy based on the findings that she possesses the BRCA1 gene mutation.   Read her essay here from the New York Times.

So what does that all mean?

First, Angelina Jolie does not have breast cancer.  Her mother, Marcheline Bertrand, passed away in 2007 after years of battling ovarian cancer.  I’m guessing Jolie has known for some time that she carried the BRCA gene mutation.  This diagnosis is determined by a blood test which must be analyzed at a laboratory specializing in genetics.

I wrote extensively about the BRCA gene mutation last year.  Read more to understand how we all have these BRCA genes but not all of us carry the mutation.

Women who test positive for the BRCA gene mutation are presented with several options which can include intense surveillance (mammogram, ultrasound, and MRI), taking Tamoxifen, or prophylactic surgery.

Women who test positive for this gene mutation are presented with several options which include intense surveillance (mammogram, ultrasound, and MRI), the drug Tomaxifen, or prophylactic surgery

Jolie opted to undergo a prophylactic double mastectomy.  This is also commonly called a “preventative” mastectomy or a “risk-reducing” mastectomy.  It means she chose to surgically remove both breasts in an attempt to reduce her risk of developing breast cancer in the future.  Women who are carriers of the BRCA1 gene, on average, have a 65% chance of  developing breast cancer.

I wrote about the difference between a lumpectomy and a mastectomy here.

She explains that after undergoing a procedure known as a “nipple delay” to rule out disease in the milk ducts, leads me to believe she had underwent a nipple sparing mastectomy.  This type of surgery isn’t usually an option for women who have already developed breast cancer.  For Jolie, and other women choosing to have a preventative double mastectomy, this particular surgery involves preserving the breast skin and nipple while all the underlying breast tissue  is removed.

angelina-jolie-removes-breasts

Jolie explains her post mastectomy reconstruction phase included having expanders. A tissue expander is a temporary device that is placed on the chest wall deep to the pectoralis muscle. The purpose of the expander is to create a pocket which will eventually contain the permanent implant. This, I understand, can be a very painful and arduous process.  Over a period of nine weeks, Jolie’s reconstruction process was final when the tissue expanders were removed and replaced with a breast implant.  Breast reconstruction is not as simple as it may seem.  The recovery time is difficult and the breasts may never look and feel like natural breasts.

A couple of important notes from Los Angeles based breast surgeon Dr. Deanna J. Attai:  ”The risk of developing a cancer is not eliminated. There remains a 1-3% risk of developing a breast cancer after prophylactic mastectomy. If the ovaries are removed (due to the increased risk of ovarian cancer), there still is a slight risk of developing ovarian cancer or primary peritoneal cancer, which mimics ovarian cancer in it’s growth and aggressiveness. BRCA mutation carriers are also at increased risk for the development of other cancers, so lifelong surveillance is important.”

Dr. Attai also notes “Some women struggle tremendously with the decision even to be tested; there are implications not only for the patient but for her relatives.”

I applaud Angelina Jolie for sharing her story and starting the conversation again about the BRCA gene mutation.  You’ll remember that Christina Applegate was diagnosed as being BRCA positive after it was discovered she had breast cancer in 2008 at the age of 36.  Sharon Osbourne underwent a preventative double mastectomy in late 2012 for carrying the gene mutation.  And, TV host Giuliana Rancic also underwent a double mastectomy in 2011 but never disclosed if she possessed the BRCA gene mutation.

I tested negative for BRCA 1 and 2 back in 2008 after my own cancer diagnosis.

Genetic testing for the BRCA gene mutation is costly.  Dr. Attai says “Insurance coverage for BRCA testing is not universal, even when the patient meets accepted criteria for testing. Without insurance, BRCA testing is approximately $3000-$4000. In addition, insurance coverage for reconstructive breast surgery varies as does access to skilled plastic and reconstructive surgeons. Many disparities in terms of access to care and quality of care still exist, and these need to be addressed.”

I want to leave you with this from Dr. Attai, who says, “I also feel that it’s somewhat of a shame that in 2013, the best we have to offer patients who are at extremely high risk is prophylactic mastectomy. I hope that I will practice medicine in a time when we have a much less drastic option to offer women and their families.

It’s not a complete win for Angelina Jolie but it’s a whole hell of a lot better than the alternative.

Angelina Jolie: 1  Cancer: 0

Top Spots Not to Miss on Maui: Leoda’s Kitchen and Pie Shop

I can’t believe it’s been nearly five weeks since we got home from Hawaii!  We spent ten lovely days with family and friends celebrating a couple of milestone birthdays.  In the coming weeks, I’m sharing a few of my favorite spots on the island of Maui.  If you’re planning a summer vacay in Lahaina or Wailea, you’ll definitely want to pin these top spots not to miss on Maui.

First up, Leoda’s Kitchen and Pie Shop.  One word for you: ridiculous.

leodas-kitchen-pie-shop

Leoda’s is a deli and bakery located in Lahaina – specifically in the  historical Olowalu Town on the west side of Maui.  I really wanted to stop in on Leoda’s when I saw their ad in a local dining magazine.  It’s executive chef is Sheldon Simeon from last season’s Top Chef. If you don’t already know, I am a HUGE Top Chef fan. So, I was bent on getting to Leoda’s as well as Chef Wonder’s other restaurant while on the island.

Since traffic had been bad because of road work along Honoapi’ilani Highway, we headed out to Leoda’s from Kaanapali a little before lunch.  Blink and you’ll miss the itty-bity row of businesses where Leoda’s Kitchen and Pie Shop is located.  I know from experience! We pulled into the red dirt parking lot and wondered if 10:45am was too early for lunch.  We decided to check out a gaggle of free range chickens that were hanging behind the restaurant until cars started filling up the lot.

Inside was totally cute.  Lots of high tables throughout with my favorite metal bar stools that remind of me of my 11th grade art class.  Reclaimed wood paneled walls and industrial lighting overhead.  Behind the counter, a bustling kitchen churning out sandwiches, burgers, and pie.  Lots of pie.

leodas-collage

What did we order?  For my keiki – a peanut butter and grape jelly sandwich on butter white bread.  For myself, I used a trick I learned from an old Rachel Ray travel show – ask the people who work there what they would recommend.  So, I did.  The sweet girl behind the counter recommended the seared ahi on grilled rye bread with avocado, caramelized onions, and pesto but I don’t like tuna so I went with her second recommendation – the Ham’n.  Holy smokes, it was good.  Duroc ham piled on grilled rye bread with Jarlsberg cheese, local basil pesto, apricot-tomato jam (the star of the sandwich, IMO), and a garlic aioli.  Each sandwich was served on recycled pie tins.  Adorbs.

sandwiches-from-leodas-maui

 Thank goodness we got there early because Leoda’s gets a huge lunch crowd.  Locals and tourists filled the place with a line out the door.  But, we weren’t leaving without pie.

leodas-coconut-cream-pie

We ordered a mini coconut cream pie to enjoy there while taking a mini banana cream pie and a German chocolate brownie back to scarf down at the hotel. It was delicious. DELICIOUS!  Like, maybe the best coconut pie I’ve ever had.

If you’re visiting Maui, I highly recommend stopping in at Leoda’s Kitchen and Pie Shop.
820 Olowalu Village Rd Honoapi’ilani Hwy Lahaina, Hawaii 96761
(808) 662-3600

Before you go, watch one of my very first Vine videos I made while at Leoda’s!  Check out that PB&J.

Have you been to Leoda’s?  Tell me… what did you eat?

I have a couple more Top Spots Not to Miss on Maui so click “Like” on the Facebook box below and you won’t miss my next blog post!  It’s a good one!

This is totally and completely not a sponsored post which means I was NOT compensated to write about my experience at Leoda’s Kitchen and Pie Shop.

7 Reasons My Husband Doesn’t Listen to Me by Kelley Nettles

I’m super excited to have Kelley Nettles from Kelley’s Break Room guest posting today for my Friday Take Over!  She is hands down hilarious but also warm and sweet.  I know you will love her – that is, if you don’t already!  Kelley’s Break Room is a humor blog meant for everyone: mothers, fathers, single women, single men, teenagers, the elderly with good eyesight and highly developed infants.  Enjoy and I’ll see you Monday!  – Wendy
reasons-why-husbands-dont-listen

He REALLY, REALLY listens to me sometimes.  However, more often than not, I will bring up an important subject, like how I saw our neighbor at Target, and I can tell none of my words were deposited into his brain bank.  “DID YOU HEAR ME?  I SAID I SAW OUR NEIGHBOR AT TARGET!!!”, I’ll scream into the stadium-sized loud speaker I bought for my purse.  “Did you say something?”, he’ll ask.  “You didn’t hear ANYTHING I just said?”.  I’ll ask this last question as I help him get snuggled into the human catapult I bought for him on-line. Then, I just kick myself because it is really MY fault he isn’t listening to me. I should know better than to start a conversation when the time isn’t right, such as when…

kelley-s-break-room-guest-post

If my husband fully attends to my story about the sale they were having on Pepto-Bismol, he probably fears he’ll end up like her.

#7: The TV works.

And it doesn’t even have to be sports.  He was watching C-Sp…zzzz….excuse me, C-SPAN last night, and I couldn’t get him to attend to my story about my new fingernail polish.

 

#6: There is anything at all lying around with words on it.

I’m hoping I’ll get his attention after he reads the ingredients in that water bottle…

 

#5: There is anything else to do.

Surely he’ll listen to my story about play group after he finishes reading the phone book.

 

#4: There is food around.

He definitely won’t be concentrating on my critique of my Book Club book if he is eating.

 

#3: It is daylight.

If the sun is out, you can bet he is not listening to me as closely as I’d like.

#2: He is within earshot.

If he can hear me, you can bet he’s not hanging on my every word.

#1: HE’S AWAKE.
*My husband helped me come up with this list.
**It is a joke.
***Not really.

 
kelley-nettles-kelleys-break-roomKelley was previously a Bravo-sponsored blogger, is currently sponsored by MSN, is a writer for NickMom and has contributed to Nickelodeon’s ParentsConnect website. In 1999, she married her college flame and has two sons born in 2004 and 2008 that wrestle, roar and jump from objects every single chance they get. You can find her avoiding all things productive while trying to make people laugh on Facebook and Twitter. A lot.

Want more from Kelley?  You must read The Very Frisky Masseuse: Should I Press Charges? Kidding. Sort of. (the photo in this post kills me!) and 7 Reasons I’d Be A Horrible Contestant On The Bachelor.  

Kelley is also one of the Kick Ass Mom Bloggers who wrote I Just Want to Pee Alone.  Now available at Amazon.com.

Find Kelley on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, and Google+.

The Quickest Way to Feel Confident

My friend Tracy gave me some advice many years ago.  She said “the quickest way to feel confident about yourself is to get a tan and wear a pair of high heels.”  I always thought that was sage advice because these things do make a girl feel better.  Don’t they?

In that same vein, I saw that JD Bailey from Honest Mom (who also happens to have guest blogged here last Friday) had confessed on her Facebook page that she rarely leaves the house without applying makeup.  To my surprise, she received a good amount of negative feedback for it.  I had to jump into the conversation because while it might not look like I’m totally made up, I too, wear make up every single day.  I explained that it makes me feel pretty, put together, and self-assured.  I am guilty though of just throwing on some powder to cover up my broken capillaries and to fill in my dime-size pores but keep my eyes completely naked because I know I won’t be taking off my sunglasses at school drop-off.

confidence-quote-delia-ephron

A few days ago, I opened my mailbox to find a copy of More magazine inside.  And at first, I wondered who thought they were funny enough to subscribe to a “mature” woman’s magazine on my behalf.  Hell, I’m only 38!  Low and behold…I really like the magazine.  The first article I read was the very last one (yes, I usually turn to the last page in every magazine when I sit down to read it).  It was entitled “The Art of Fearlessness” by Delia Ephron – yes, she’s the sister of Nora – and it really spoke to me.  She gave her simple list of what made her feel confident which included a pair of kick ass boots.  It’s sort of similar to the advice my friend Tracy gave me years ago.  But it’s not necessarily the shoes though, is it?  Instead it’s the feeling the shoes give you.  So know this…if you ever see me in a pair of heels, watch out because this girl is beaming with confidence.

Have a great week!  Be sure to come back to get in on a Shakeology giveaway and read what will likely be a hilarious post by Kelley from Kelly’s Break Room!

This is What Depression Looks Like – Guest Post by JD Bailey

I am so honored to have JD Bailey taking over today.  She is an author, blogger, and the creator of Honest Mom, where she writes about raising her young daughters and managing her depression. With real candor and a good dose of humor, JD blogs to connect with other moms and create a space for women to both vent and laugh.  I really connected with JD and her post today as I struggled with depression the year after I was diagnosed with breast cancer.  I wrote extensively about weaning from the anti-depressant Effexor XR and seriously consider somedays if I should still be on medication. Enjoy.  - Wendy  
this-is-what-depression-looks-like-jd-bailey
“I had no idea you deal with depression. You seem like you have it all together. You seem so … normal.”

That is essentially what I hear when I confide in someone that I battle depression. They’re always so surprised. Because on the outside, I look like a regular, suburban, 30-something mom of little kids. I generally look put together. In a decent mood. You know … normal.

When I’m depressed, I don’t look sad, angry, anxious. Like I feel like I’m falling apart. Like I’m ready to scream at my kids for every little thing they do. Like I’m worrying I will blurt something that will make their little faces crumple in sadness or worse – fear.

I also don’t look dirty, frantic, or bizarre. I don’t act erratic or crazy. I look and act like me. Just maybe a little quieter, a little sadder, a little less of myself.

When I am struggling with depression, I look normal on the outside. Because I AM normal. I just have depression, too.

If there is one thing I want people to understand about depression, it’s this: Depression often – usually – looks “normal.” Because “normal” people struggle with depression.

Some people will bristle at a comparison I am about to make – and honestly, I’m not sure why – but I think my depression isn’t different from many other chronic diseases. I have friends, acquaintances, and relatives who deal with lupus, fibromyalgia, Crohn’s, and other awful diseases that flare up and seemingly go away – just as my depression does.

I am not always depressed, nor do I always have to be on medication. My depression comes and goes. When it’s here, I take meds for it. When it’s gone, I don’t.

And yes, I know that many, many people have constant depression and have to take meds and go to therapy all the time. And you know what? I think their depression isn’t any different from any other disease that needs to be constantly monitored and cared for and medicated so the person who has the disease can feel as normal as possible.

(There’s that word again.)

It bothers me that there is such a stigma about depression. I can understand it – anything that messes with our brains is scary – but it still makes me mad.

And it makes me sad that I still worry what people think of me when I tell them about it. I am very open about my depression on my blog, but not in “real life” – because the stigma is there, and I have to be careful about being too open with the wrong people.

But I write about depression and advocate for women who deal with depression, and I won’t ever stop doing so. Because if I can help some of you out there feel less alone in your battles, and if I can help some more of you understand that regular people deal with depression – well, it’s worth taking the risk of putting myself out there.

If you have a friend or family member who confides in you that they struggle with depression, I hope you remember this: They’re just as normal as your friend with diabetes or your cousin with lupus. And they’re still the person you know and love.

I’m walking proof of that.

And if you’re struggling with depression, know this: You are not alone. There are tons of regular women just like you who are dealing with similar stuff. There is no shame in getting help if you haven’t yet, and if you do get help, it will get better.

I’m walking proof of that, too.

honest-mom-guest-post-buttonIn addition to her blog, JD Bailey is a co-author of the humor book, “I Just Want to Pee Alone,” and her writing has been featured on the Huffington Post, Scary Mommy, Bonbon Break, and soon, Postpartum Progress, as part of their Mother’s Day Rally for Moms’ Mental Health.

In addition to her writing, JD is an outspoken advocate for moms who deal with depression. She was interviewed by Katie Couric about the topic and was featured in a recent Parenting Magazine article about parents and depression.

When she’s not writing or mommying, JD can be found spending too much time on Facebook, Twitter, and Pinterest, getting dirty in her gardens, or reading a really funny book.

Read more from JD Bailey here: Goodbye, precious lovey. Hello, first grade, How being a mom is like being on a soap opera, and Here’s why I freak out for a few days every month.

Jumping in Again

I’ve been down this road before.  In fact, last Spring I got this wild idea to host a weight loss challenge simply because I thought the competition would make a difference.  Overall, the challenge was successful for those who really worked their individual weight loss programs.  I gave up somewhere around week 3.  So, I hosted another one.  And eventually quit that one too.  Truth be told, I joined several others throughout the year.  What did I do?  Quit, quit, and quit.

I can’t quite figure out why I give up so easily.  On the whole, I think it’s because I get overwhelmed at my grandiose declarations that I’m only eating a certain way.  Low-carb/No-carb makes for a grouchy girl.  And one you’ll usually find pillaging through the pantry in the late afternoon.

I’m tired.  I know I’m sick.  Maybe fat.  And it’s time for a change.  So, guess who’s jumping into another weight loss challenge?  Yep.  My friend Jessica is hosting this one and it kicks off today.  If all goes as planned – I’d like to be down 17 lbs. at the end of the 8 weeks.

jump-into-summer-challenge

Here’s the other thing… The first 7 days of the challenge I am committing to a Gluten-Free diet.  My lovely friend Anna has a great blog called In The Next 30 Days where she creates monthly challenges to help make her life “brighter, shinier, and happier while making a positive difference.”  She pretty much rocks my world and I want to be her.  Anyway, she’s going GF for the next 30 days.  So, heck…I can do seven right?  I’m actually very curious to see if it will help with my horrible aches and pains.

I started a Gluten Free Pinterest board if you want to get some idea of what I might be eating.

I’d love to hear your experience if you are GF.  Tips, recipes, great Pinterest boards or blogs.  Send ‘em my way.  And let’s hope for my sake that I don’t quit this challenge before it’s over.