My Old Foe, the Pump

I've been nursing my baby for over five months now. This is a big deal for me considering we almost didn't make it five days.

It comes as a relief that pretty soon he's going to be eating solids regularly. We have started him on a few foods occasionally, and most recently a little oatmeal almost every day. I still nurse him before any foods so he can get the "good stuff" first. But in a few short weeks, these foods will give him additional vitamins and nutrients in addition to my milk. I feel like I'm off the hook a little.

You see, the amount of breast milk I've pumped has always been a "thing". It's a source of constant anxiety for me, made even worse because our daycare provider kept asking for more. I was afraid of getting to a point where I couldn't pump enough to keep up with him. And what's the worse that could happen -- formula makes up the amount I can't provide? That's not a big deal (to a normal, non-crazy person).

I talked before about where I pump at work. I had several people comment that it was so unfair I had to pump in a closet while sitting on the floor. I completely disagree. Knowing the state of breast feeding, I'm extremely lucky to have an out of the way place that's not a bathroom. It was my choice to sit on the floor because in all honesty, the room was kind of cramped and it was sort of awkward to have a chair and not have a table where I could set my pump.

The other day, our secretary cleaned out the closet and when I went in later, she'd rolled in a chair, a table and a radio for me. She made a new "Do Not Disturb" sign for the door and put all my magazines in a cute wicker basket. It really moved me that she took the time to do it, knowing how much breast feeding means to me.

My new digs.

Here's where I spill my deep, dark secret, a secret I'm sure I share with any mother who either works or is exclusively pumping: I hate my pump.

I mean, I sort of dig it. It's the Caddy of pumps. I was excited when I got it because I thought, "hooray! No more worries about milk!"

Until his bottles started increasing. Until I realized it's pretty difficult to pump at work every 3 hours. Until I saw that piddly 3 oz bottle after 15 minutes of pumping and that little voice in my head said, "You can't keep up."

I'm getting resentful of that pump. I hate that I have to be connected to it so much. I hate all the cords to plug in, the parts I have to wash. I hate that after my baby goes to bed, I have to drag out that beast and pump instead of doing things I enjoy doing. I hate having to carry it in every day, or remembering to stick the cord in the bag, or making sure the bottle cooler has frozen.

On the other hand, when I make the bottles at night with milk I've pumped, I feel very proud of myself for keeping it up.

I'm not planning on giving it up. My goal is one year and then I'll probably have to since I think I'm only legally entitled to all those breaks for one year. I'm OK with that, too. The pump is a necessary evil in my life, and I'll keep doing battle with my old foe until he's weaned.

It's a labor of love, but I won't be sad to see that pump go back into the closet.

What's your labor of love? What do you resent, but love at the same time?

Oh, hey, by the way, I did a review of a nursing cover called Baby Bond over at my friend Laurie's blog (Steals & Deals for Kids). She's giving away a cover! check it out!

See ID

Hubby and I went out on a lunch date yesterday to Fridays.

Remember back in the day when Fridays had super peppy servers with all the flair? Our server was a throwback to the golden days of Fridays flair. Flair = fun, right? That's what we learned from Office Space. What he lacked in actual flair (because Fridays is far to upscale for flair these days) he made up for in enthusiasm. Flair aura, if you will.

"Hey guys, I'm Todd, I'll be takin' care of ya today. Can I start you off with somethin' to drink? Perhaps one of our famous lemonade slushes [editors note: famous in what circles?]."

"Water for me." "Sweet tea, please."

"Good good! I'll be right out with those beverages, guys!" *knocks on the table with his fingertips*

You know. One of those guys. And if he was legally able to buy an adult beverage, I'd be shocked, is how young he looked. Clearly he took his Fridays training very seriously. He probably took notes. He probably keeps a training crib sheet tucked safely inside his notebook he uses to write down people's orders.

Anyway, we order, he brings our food, we eat, it's good and all. He checks on us 14 million times and refills our drink and does everything right, even if he's sort of driving me crazy with all the fake enthusiasm for the state of our lunch.

He brings the check and my hubby pulls out the Discover (card that pays you back).

This is where I need to tell you a critical piece of information about my husband. He has a name that has become popular as a girls name in the recent past. Often, if you do a search for his name, several young teenage girls will also show up in the results. He's used to it by now, but I still get real pissy about it the same way I do when someone calls me Allison or Amber instead of Amanda.

Todd the server comes back with the card and stands next to me while looking at my husband and says the following:

"So, does [insert my husband's name here] know she is paying for your lunch today?"

Silence.

Crickets.

You could hear a pin drop.

We weren't sure what to say. Was he suggesting we stole the credit card? Was he trying to be funny because my husband handed him the card with what he thought had my name?

Hubby said slowly, "well. That....is...me...."

The kid turned about 18 shades of red and asked to see my husband's ID, since the credit card does say "See ID" on the back. I'm not sure why he didn't just see ID to start out with. Maybe he was just trying to be personable. Maybe he knew I was getting the afternoon sleepies and I needed something to get my blood boiling. He definitely failed at the first and succeeded at the second.

Here is how I felt about it:

The take-away here? Use your context clues. If a man pulls a credit card with a basketball design on it out of his wallet, it's probably his. Sometimes men have girlie sounding names and always see ID first, just in case.

Rural Florida is not much different than all of West Virginia

This is a Wordless Wednesday post.

FOOLED YOU! I knew if I put Wordless Wednesday in the title, 50% of you would move on along down your Google reader list and call it a day. You'd be like me at Sams club with the free samples: "Oh, I couldn't! Well, maybe I'll just try it. Delicious! I think I might think about thinking about buying one." And I have absolutely no intention of buying the product.

But if you skip this one, you would have missed out on three things in this particular post: CUTE BABY PICTURES; lots of actual words; and my comparison of Rural Florida and West Virginia.

I was born and raised in West Virginia. Some of my very favorite people in the world were also born and raised in West Virginia. But come on, let's be honest, it's not the most sophisticated of places, which is OK because I'm not a sophisticated person.

I moved to Florida and I'm all, HOT DIGGITY DOG, no more hillbillies! Hoooooray! And sure enough, there are no hillbillies.

Because there are no hills.

Instead, we have rednecks.

Therein lies the first difference. Secondly, there are palm trees in Florida. Thirdly, the produce stands sell much more delicious fruit AND accept food stamps as payments, so that's different.

Other than that? Pretty similar, which just goes to show that a festival is a festival no matter in what state the organizers set up the [insert questionable meat product here] on-a-stick stands and shaky rides held together by duct tape, luck and a prayer.

Now, on to the pictures!

So many strawberries you turn INTO a strawberry!

Chilling in a great big strawberry.

Delicious.

Candy, foam hats and jazz hands. This is my idea of fun these days.

Very grumpy baby in a very cute hat.

Apparently this is a "thing".

Maybe next year, my love.

This baby is ruining my whole fall

The past two years, Hubby and I have imbibed in wines and delicious foods from around the world at the Epcot International Food and Wine Festival. It has all of our favorite things:

• Food
• Wine
• Disney World

This year we opted out of renewing our seasonal passes to Disney World. The renewal date was in May and the seasonal passes are blacked-out for the whole summer and we wouldn't have been able to go back until August. And I can't think of much worse at 7 months pregnant than walking around a crowded theme park in the August heat. And  the September heat. And the October heat.

Besides, how could we spend weekends at Disney World, enjoying delicious food and wine, when we've invested a small fortune in the NFL, NBA and college football packages on DirecTV? Blasphemy.

When I started seeing commercials for the Food & Wine Festival, I got a little case of the sads. We always went for the booze and stayed for the delightfully lame entertainment: Enrique Inglesias. Taylor Hicks. Air Supply.

So, no booze. No tasty, international dishes. No Jon Secada or Hanson.

But I'm having a baby, so that totally makes up for it.

But then I saw a Tweet that rocked my world:

 

Um.

Excuse me?

Boyz II Men.

Boyz. Two Capital "i"s. MEN?

ONLY my favorite R&B quartet in 1995. ONLY giving a FREE concert at Epcot.

Kaching! and Jackpot! If only......................................................

Baby Blogworthy, you have really put me in a pickle now, what with your sitting on my bladder so I have to pee every three seconds, and your big, hard head all but stopping the circulation in my legs, giving me a wicked cankle, and your little toes kicking my bronchial tubes so I sound like an asthmatic old man. And now making me MISS OUT on this concert.

I wont' soon let you forget the year you were happily baking away while I had to miss  Boyz II Men's big theme park comeback, and don't you EVEN think I won't bring it up.

Baby Blogworthy: Mom, I don't want to clean my room because I want to go play with my friends instead.

Me: Well I didn't want to miss the Boyz II Men concert in November 2010, but I did because I was giving life to you.

And so forth. I'm all about the passive aggressive behavior.

Have you ever missed an amazing event because of some other amazing event? Isn't this a sad, sad story? Did you rock out to Boyz II Men back in the day?

Hey HEY hey, word nerd!

I'm in love with a grocery store AKA my best friend is back

I think my love of Publix supermarkets has been well documented in this blog.

Basically, it's the best grocery store ever. You walk into a Publix and just feel happy. It's bright and cheery and clean. All the employees greet you with a smile. The produce is fresh and so is the meat. Prices can be high, but they have Buy-on-get-one-free specials every week on really good stuff, and their coupon policy is amazing -- like they will literally take any old coupon you scrape off the sidewalk, even if it's for a lesser grocery store like Piggly Wiggly or Winn-Dixie. Yes, I live in the South.

For instance, let's say there is BOGO on Cheetos, and you have two coupons for 50 cents off one bag of Cheetos. You get to use BOTH coupons. And then Winn-Dixie put out a coupon for $1 off your next salty snack purchase. And Cheetos are $3 per bag. So then you walk your happy butt up to the register and say, "I'd like these Cheetos, good sir, and here are my coupons." You proudly hand them over and watch the savings.

Cheetos	$3
Cheetos	$3
- Promotion: Cheetos BOGO	- $3
Vendor Coupon	- .50
Vendor Coupon	- .50
Competitor Coupon	- $1
Total
	$1

Who doesn't want a receipt  that looks like that? A crazy person with more money than sense, that's who.

And the very best part about Publix? It's the Publix Promise, which means if it rings up wrong, well my friend, you get that bad boy for free. AND it applies to BOGOs -- if they ring up wrong, you get them BOTH free.

Publix is basically the most magical place on earth.

So you can see why we'd be devastated when our local Publix, not a half-mile from our house, closed for renovations. It was like our best friend told us they were going to Europe for 9 months. We were bummed, but knew it was the best. For personal growth. I mean, we had other friends...friends located not even 2 miles from our house that were perfectly nice, clean and friendly, but we know our BEST friend like the back of our hand. This metaphor is quickly getting *wonky*. THIS IS WHAT PUBLIX MAKES ME DO.

Last Thursday was the grand opening for our Publix and it lived up to every expectation I had. Except that there was a line to get in. People were greeting each other, getting teary, definitely smiling a lot.

My coworkers and I showed up bright and early at 8 am - they all live close-by and it's "their" Publix, too - and it was life changing. Spectacular. You walk in and there is a whole display of apples and colorful fruit; a full-service bakery with delights such as freshly filled cannoli and pizza dough; a deli where you can buy subs and meat and cheese; a sushi stand, I mean it goes on and on.

This is what it looks like..magnificent , huh?

We had a feast that morning fit for a king: cinnamon roll samples, donuts, orange juice, steak, pumpkin ice cream. And I don't think I need to tell you that I had some major heartburn for the rest of the day. WORTH IT.

And then I got my picture taken with the Publix mascot. His name is Plato....THE PUBLIXSAURS. Guys, I can't even make that up.

Um, excuse my double chin and HUGE belly, it's my baby's fault.

I had such a great time that I went with Hubby that evening and it was almost a beautiful disaster. Brand new grocery store + fully stocked shelves X two hungry people with no list = bad news

Do you have a Publix nearby? Does the name of this store make you slightly uncomfortable? Where do you shop? Have you ever had a shopping experience quite like this one?

Getting my word on! Check it out and play along!

It's been awhile -- wanna hear some work stories?

My team has access to the production studio at work, which is much less impressive than it sounds, although the most wonderful, cool, dark and quiet room you'll ever see in your life. Don't think I haven't thought long and hard about napping there on occasion. Anyway, we do some video editing and podcasting there. Our studio is located within a suite that holds our call center, an impressive 5 employees strong. That's right -- we're so awesome we only need 5 people in our call center. 

I was editing some video yesterday and when I walked out one of our call center employees whispers to me to come over to her desk. She's a really nice lady, a little older, always so happy and positive. We work in the same department but not really with one another, but I knew OF her. So I head over to her desk and have the following conversation:

Her: Let me ask you something. Don't you get mad at me, now. [places her hand on my belly] Are you pregnant?

Me: Yes!

Her: I knew it. You're having a girl, aren't you? [as she continues to rub my belly]

Me: Actually no, a boy. We just found out last week.

Her: That's just so wonderful! [tone change to angry] Did that big tall girl have her baby yet?????

Me: [taken aback] um, well, I don't know. Maybe? 

Two things: my belly is not that big, so touching it at this point is still a little more in my personal space than I care for an almost stranger to be. I mean when the baby gets bigger, maybe. But right now, I'll take my belly untouched, please. Also? I don't know what girl she's talking about. Like no clue whatsoever. It was a strange transaction.

_________________________________________

Our little intern, bless his heart, he's 21 years old. It's just precious. I love 21 year olds because they are still filled with goodness and wonder and positivity. They still think liberal arts is a good, strong choice. They like things such as napping and doing projects and going out to bars. They have time for all that stuff.

I gave him a project to help me with this summer -- taking photos of some nurses for our website. He came in with the photos and he's all, look how they all posed and stuff for me. They were really friendly. Another coworker teased him about giving the girls his number and he said, "naw, they were older." Older. Guess what's older to a 21 year old? TWENTY-FIVE. Yeah, the ripe old age of 25. Over the hill, certainly. I mean after the metabolism starts to slow it's all over. 

We all enjoy our intern.

__________________________________________

Not really work related, but since this blog is turning out pretty random anyway, here goes. In the past two weeks, we've had one almost fatal lightening strike in the area and one not really close to be fatal but still scary anyway alligator attack.

The alligator attack was on a researcher who was snorkeling in a river about 30 minutes south of where I live. The alligator was all, Oh, my food delivery is here NOM. And the guy was apparently big and strong and wrassled him off. The guy got a bite on his neck and some cuts and bruises but was OK and would make a full recovery. The alligator was murdered by the Fish and Wildlife people. Let's be clear here -- if you were in your living room and a some terriyaki chicken wings just sauntered in like they owned the placed, kicked up their drummettes and sat a spell, you'd bite them...right? Same with this gator. Dude was swimming in his house! And I'm sure he smelled delicious.  So whatever, I'm over it now but there was a hot second where I was sitting here with tears in my eyes after I found out the alligator was shot.


These two things together make Florida seem like the most terrifying place on the planet.

How many inches is your personal space bubble? How much do you enjoy interns and/or 21 year olds? Are you scared of Florida?

Wonder what would happen if I ate nothing but cheese fries forever

Awhile ago at work, my coworker threw out this question: What would you choose as your last meal?

 EASY. Anything that's on an appetizer menu at a bar.

But I wanted to get more specific today and share my favorite foods and favorite places to get these delectable  items.

Cheese Fries

This is probably hands down my favorite guilty pleasure. I really enjoy me some cheese fries, y'all. My old stomping ground back in WV had these on the menu and it was a tradition to order them with our beer. The ones I like best are a little fat, lightly salted and covered with cheddar cheese. I'm talking so much cheese that it gets all melty down in the mound of fries, and when you pull a fry out of the pile, a big string of cheese attaches itself to the fry.

I've seen them with a variety of add-ons: jalepenos, bacon, chives. (no thank you, ok in small amounts, YES PLEASE). Hubby is a bacon fan, but I can take it or leave it on my cheese fries. And if you don't give me a mess of ranch dressing to dip my fries in, you're dead to me.

Now the best and worst cheese fry locations:

BEST - Fat Patty's (Huntington, WV) and Chili's (tie)- Fat Patty's is a place none of you know about because it's in West Virginia and it's not like it's a hub of excitement and intrigue. I know Jennifer has, so maybe she can add her two cents. Fat Patty's fries are "beer battered", which means they have a crispy outer shell that gives an extra flavor profile to the fries. Heaven.  Almost heaven, if you will. The cheese is always plentiful and melted just the right amount and they add chives (bonus).

Chilli's was the upset here, narrowly beating out the Honorable Mention. It's a recent find for me. Chilli's has a new special where you can get an appetizer and a meal for $10 per person. We tried their fancy-pants cheese fries as one of our apps and it was AMAZING. Points were deducted because it includes jalepenos, but all was forgiven because I took a bite of what I thought was a fat fry and it was actually cheese. Amazing.




HONORABLE MENTION - Texas Roadhouse -They do have some pretty tasty cheese fries, but they aren't consistently good. One trip you hit the cheese jackpot, the next it's like, "is there any cheese on this?" Tragic. Oh, and once we found a hair in our cheese fries there, but we did get a coupon for a free appetizer next time we visited.

WORST - Beef-O-Brady's (Gainesville, FL and other FL locations) Com'on, Beefs, and your pathetic attempt at cheese fries. I mean I drop more cheese on the kitchen floor while grating than you even put on your fries. And, cheese is extra! So it's really not cheese fries so much as it is fries with cheese on them. There's a difference, people. AND ranch dressing is extra. Fail to you, Beefs. Big time fail.

Pizza

Every time I eat pizza I tell my husband that I could eat pizza every single day of my life and be satisfied. Of course, it has to be the right pizza. What does it for me? Crust that's not to thick, not too thin; plenty of sauce and cheese -- glorious, beautiful tasty cheese. It's good and good for you. The string test applies to this one, too: cut a slice, pull it up and if the cheese strings out, you're golden.

BEST - Giovonni's Pizza (Huntington, WV) - This is another local yokel favorite of mine and I've been thinking about it ever since Tracie mentioned she'd eaten there recently on a trip back to the boonies. This pizza makes my heart sing beautiful songs of love and harmony and my saliva flow like a babbling brook. It's just so good. The crust is thin and soggy from all the grease, which speaking of grease, get your napkins ready because you'll be dabbing grease of this bad boy way before you can take a bite -- just how I like it. And they have my favorite kind of sausage -- crumbly sausage. Just enough sausage to tide me over (that's what she said).

HONORABLE MENTION - Gino's Pizza (Huntington, WV) Same type of crust, but the cheese isn't quite as consistently gooey. It's hit or miss sometimes depending on the time and location.

BEST IN NORTHERN KENTUCKY - Snappy Tomato - This is a new one for me. Sarah ordered it for me while we were visiting them. She ordered it from a gas station (true story). But man, was it good. The cheese factor was phenomenal. And I love the name. How can you not be happy chowing down on a Snappy Tomato?

BEST IN GAINESVILLE - I {Heart} NY Pizza - I know what y'all are thinking, the name of this place is so ridiculously original, it must be run by some authentic Italian American former New Yorkers. And thats' where you'd be wrong because it's actually run by a family of Middle Eastern dudes. And they are super nice and make delicious, Giovonni's style pizza, so good that Hubby and I will drive 20 minutes out of our way to get it. That's pizza dedication, my friends.

WORST PIZZA - No such thing.

Ice Cream

I'm not typically a big ice cream eater, but when I get a hankerin' there isn't a thing better in this world than chocolate ice cream with peanut butter. I hope when I die, I die while eating this delicious treat.

BEST ICE CREAM - Cold Stone Peanut Butter Perfection - More calories than a person needs in a day, but worth getting fat for. Chocolate? Check. Peanut butter? Check. PEANUT BUTTER CUPS? Ch-heck. Chocolate fudge? Check.

WORST ICE CREAM - Publix Peanut Butter Cup - While "bad" ice cream is better than good vegetables any day of the week, this really didn't live up to my expectations. It's heavy on the chocolate (talk to me...) light on the peanut butter (and stop talking.)

So there you go, all my favorite foods that aren't good for me. What are your guilty pleasures?

fries image via | pizza image via

Country roads are taking me somewhere, but not really home

Have you missed me posting all over your blogs the past few days? Hubby and I have been in West Virginia, the place of our births the place of my birth because Hubby will never let you forget that he was born in Kentucky even though he was raised for most of his life in WV and..AND...eastern Kentucky pretty much is the same as WV, how is that even better? Anyway. That's where we were. And boy, oh boy did I get behind on my blogging.

It was great for one reason only -- sister time. Sister time is my favorite time ever. It's filled with just pure awesomeness topped with icing from the most delicious cake place called Servatiis.

This is what I imagine Sister time looks like:

 We totally demolished that cake.

We had the best time just sitting around and talking and eating and then a not so great time watching UK lose to my mortal enemies, WVU. Then we reverted back to best times by making her cats dance.

Before the trip to sister's house, Hubby and I visited my Mom and Dad, who are getting ready to sell our childhood home. Mom finds all sorts of treasures, and by treasures I mean things that she doesn't have the heart to throw away, so she gives them to us to "do with them what we will."

One of these treasures was a big, plastic Big Boy bank. Do y'all have Shoneys? Well long ago and far away, Shoney's used to be Shoney's Big Boy. I guess there are still Big Boy restaurants around, but here is the logo:

via

So I'm laughing thinking, where on God's green earth did this come from? Mom proceeds to tell me how when my sister and I were little, she wanted this Big Boy bank more than anything and Mom wouldn't buy it for her. Big sister stepped in and bought it for her as a gift. Now I know, you're wondering, how did a young child get money to buy something like this? And to that I don't' have an answer and neither did Mom. It's so appropriate, though, because my Sister has always been awesome with money and is now an accountant, so I like to think I was building her dreams even at a very young age. I'm selfless and amazing like that. You're welcome, Sissy.

I decided it would be super funny to take the Big Boy to her for it to live in it's rightful home. Hub and I brought it in and wrapped it in paper we found in Sarah's dining room, then handed it to her. She was all, "Oh! A present!" and then laughed her face off when she saw it:

Please note the Snuggie she has on. And look how the Big Boy is staring longingly at her. Her husband better watch his back, is all I'm saying.

And also during this trip, our husbands went shopping together which we both agree will NEVER happen again. Go to her blog to read about that story and to see some male modeling.

Oh! And we are both known for saying some random things because that's just how our brain spits them out. Sarah was showing me her scrapbook calendar and one page has a pic of our two cats who passed away and Sarah's new kitties. Sarah said, "These are my two dead cats and these are my two alive cats" and also "He [one of the new cats] has a skunk eye in this one because he has the herp." And those are both reasons why she's the best.

Then on the way back, Hubby and I were simultaneously bored out of our skulls and terrified for our lives. If you don't know that feeling, drive I75 through Tennessee.

We're really into huge mugs lately, like the ones that hold 72 oz of water or whatever, because we both need to drink a ton more water than we already do. So I borrowed one from Sarah and then he randomly found one at a gas station. He found another use for it when we stopped at Arby's:

I am unbelievably proud.

Teens say the darndest things. Also, some recipes.

Some kids stopped by Sunday night to watch the Kentucky game. That was their cover, but their real MO was to play Hubby's Play Station 3. Here are some gems from the evening:

"I want to tell Ke$ha what to do and she does it."
"Coach, today my sister slept till 1. She's lazy!" (this was said with no context)
"Hey Coach, what kind of tattoo should I get?"
"The other day our friends stayed over and we talked about who all we wanted to punch in the face."
"I'm going to put that I'm dating Ke$ha on my Facebook. It'll be Facebook official."
"Let's drink some victory Mountain Dew!"
"Are there any brownies left?"

There was also an inordinate amount of screaming at the last second shots thrown up ON A VIDEO GAME. I still don't understand boys.

A few people asked about the recipes I fixed for my little party on Friday. The first is just a link because I dont' feel like typing it out. This is from Rachael Ray (feel how you will about her, but she makes a mean cheese infused dip. I found the recipe while watching 30 Minute Meals right before New Years Eve. That's the first time I made it and it was a huge hit. It's so super easy. I leave out the artichokes because I really can take em or leave em. The spinach gives it plenty of flavor and consistency:

Spinach Artichoke Dip recipe

The next two are from Cook This, Not That .

Spicy Potato Skins

You'll need:

• 4 small russet potatoes
• olive oil
• salt and black pepper to taste
• 1 cup 2% milk (I used skim and it turned out fine)
• 2 tbsp butter
• 1/2 cup shredded sharp cheddar cheese, plus more for garnish
• 4 scallions, chopped, plus more for garnish
• 1/2 tbsp minced chipotle pepper
• 1/4 cup sour cream (I used low-fat)
• 6 strips bacon, cooked and crumbled (I used turkey bacon)

Preheat your oven to 400 degrees F.  Rub the potatoes with a bit of olive oil and lightly salt the skins. Bake for 35 to 40 minutes until tender. When they have cooled slightly (enough that you don't burn your hands), scoop out the insides of the potato. Leavea  thin layer of potato intact around the skin to keep it from tearing. Add the milk, butter, cheese and scallions to the scooped out potatos and stir until smooth. Season with salt and pepper.

Preheat the broiler. Scoop the potato mixture into the hollowed-out potato skin halves. Top with a little extra cheese and place under the broiler until the tops are brown and crispy (about 3 to 5 minutes.)

Mix the chipotle with the sour cream and place a dab on top of the cooked potato. Finish with a bit of crumbled bacon. (I actually didn't use the chipotle seasoning in my sour cream because I'm not a big fan of spicy stuff. I served it with extra sour cream for dipping -- low fat, of course).

Makes 4 servings (so you get two skins in one serving) and it's 310 calories, 11g fat.

Chicken Fingers with Chipotle-Honey

You'll need:

• 1 lb boneless, skinless chicken tenders
• Salt and black pepper to taste
• 3 egg whites, lightly beaten 
• 2 cups panko bread crumbs
• 2 tbsp dijon mustard
• 1 tsp chiptle pepper puree
• 1 tbsp honey

 Preheat your oven to 450 degrees F. Season the chicken with salt and pepper. Place the egg whites in a bowl, and place the bread crumbs in another bowl or plate (season these with salt/pepper or really anything else in my own opinion -- I usually put a little bit of garlic powder on it because I loves me some garlic.) Dip the chicken tenders into the egg, then toss in the crumbs (make sure you coat them fully.)

Spray some non-stick cooking spray on a baking sheet (I use canola oil -- obvi -- heart health central over here) and place chicken on the sheet. Bake for 10 to 12 minutes. The crumbs should be brown and the chicken should be firm. (I kept them in for closer to 14 minutes, but I think it was just because of my oven. They weren't done at 12.)

Combine the mustard, chipotle and honey in a large bowl. Toss the cooked chicken tenders in the mixture so they are all coated with the sauce (again, I left out the chipotle, but did put a dash of the Cajun seasoning that we love. I'm sure chili powder would work too.)

Makes 4 servings. 250 calories per serving, 1.5g fat (0g saturated fat).

I didn't use a whole pound of chicken and I cut them into nugget form so there would be more, but smaller. I was really surprised how good these were. The sauce was exceptionally good.

Do you guys have any go-to recipes for pot lucks or impromptu parties?

It's a par-tay at my house, y'all, a basketball par-tay

I'm still recovering from this really wild party. And by wild, I mean a booze-free party with lots of teenage boys. Wait. That sounds bad. The teenage boys were here for my husband. Wait. I mean, they are his students and members of his basketball team.

I'll back up just a tad. Remember how I told you guys that my husband Loves with a capital L basketball season. And if there was an emotion stronger than love, that's how he'd feel about the three weeks of March Madness. In fact, once we had a conversation in which I asked him, "if I were preg and in labor and there was a UK tournament game on, would you be with me or at the game?" and he said the game. That's his commitment to UK basketball.

For the past four years, this has been my view during the tournament:

I didn't think that you get the full breadth of this so I took a video of it for you guys:







I took that half day from work yesterday. When I got home, Hubby said to me, "Honey, some people might be coming over." And me being a complete and total control freak, I wanted to know exactly how many people and exactly what the plans were. Would there be eating during or before? Are people going to be bringing food, or are we providing it? What time would they be there? How long would they stay? I mean, a girl needs to have her plans in place, people.

I LOVE to entertain and stuff people to the brim with good food and don't get to do it often enough, so I came up with a big plan to cook bad-for-you-bar-food-without-the-bar for all the peeps coming over (the headcount was 10). We just checked out the book Cook This Not That from our local public library. This book is fab and I recommend it for anyone who loves to eat out and wants to watch their girly figure.

Aside: I hope someone realizes one of these days how much I love shilling stuff that I like and gives me gobs of money for it, but for now I'll just write about it for free.

The menu was:

• Chicken tenders with spicy honey mustard sauce
• potato skins
• sliders, half were bacon and cheddar and half were swiss, onions and mushrooms
• cheesy spinich dip
• cheese fries
• Taquitos
• brownies

Of course, of all that stuff I cooked from scratch -- the Gorgonzola cheese I melted into the spinach, the burgers I cut out myself, the chicken tenders I lovingly breaded -- the biggest hit of the whole party was -- you guessed it -- TAQUITOS. Mystery meat central. And also? The brownies.

"Mrs. Austin," a couple guys said, "these brownies are amazing! thank you!"

You're welcome, but they are from a box. SADS.

I got to participate in some fun girly chat at the dining room table with a friend who stopped by with her hubby while 10 teenagers and three adults screamed and carried on using words like "that's sick!" "Nasty!"and "Body up!" and "he ooped it!" As the clock moved toward 10:30, the screaming grew louder. I popped my head in to see what was going on and I discover they are playing NCAA 2010 on PS3. Lovely.

As I mentioned before, it was peticoat rule at my house so male culture really fascinates me. It's like watching a pack of gorillas. My home was a zoo yesterday.

So, question is, who wants to come over to my house for a party?

Pantry, you're dead to me

Listen, pantry, we need to have a heart-to-heart.

There's a big problem right now in my home, and, well, it's not me, it's you.

 

Evil.

You just hang out in the kitchen all day with your delicious food. Mocking my and my desire to just lose a couple pounds. OK, cookie mix, I hear you. I know it's your goal in life to make me some cookies. You just want to provide a little extra cushion and I get that. "But you love sweets," you say. "And look, I only need to be mixed with one stick of butter and an egg and you have BOTH of those! It's not like you're going to use that stick of butter for anything else, anyway."

Well, cookie mix, I'm sure there are lots more HEALTHY things I can make with that stick of butter, so just screw off, ok?

The same goes for you, too, box of sugary chocolate cereal. Don't you dare hide  back behind the healthy cereal; I know this game far too well. You're trying to get me to forget about you until I'm having a late night moment of weakness, aren't you? Well guess what, I AIN'T FALLING FOR IT.

"Come on, I'm only 100 calories per serving! I'm basically a 100-calorie pack!" But your serving is 3/4 a cup. Know who can be satisfied with 3/4 cup of cereal? PEOPLE WITH WILLPOWER. That's not me, OBVIOUSLY. I pour out 3/4 a cup and next thing you know, BAM a half box of cereal is gone. I will throw you out before you can say "I'm Coocoo for Cocoa puffs!" and don't think I won't.

Who am I kidding, I will not throw anything out.

No, instead I'll fall for your old tricks, brownie mix. "Oh man, I'm almost expired! You might have to throw me away even though you bought me on Publix BOGO a year ago! You probably need to go ahead and bake me so as to not waste food, because that's a punishable offense in this house!" Although logically I realize that it's powdered food. How does powdered food spoil? Who is going to punish me?

You know what will expire? This peach. And it will expire quickly while I'm busy eating my weight in Ritz Peanut Butter Crackers and the fruit flies will get to it. GREAT. Not only have I wasted a perfectly good peach, I also have fruit flies. CURSES ON YOU, RITZ CRACKERS!

Oh, potato chips, you know just when I'm craving something salty. "Woops! Sorry, must have lost my balance from this precarious position stacked on top of all these boxes of dumpling and gravy mixes. I didn't mean to fall right into your hands. But since I'm here...." Since you're here, WHAT, potato chips? Huh? Tell me. Just test my patience because I have had nothing but salads for lunch for weeks and I'm in no mood.

And you can shut your whore mouth, Chips Deluxe Cookies, over there in the cabinet. You might not live in the pantry but this applies as much to you as it does that Warm Delights cake on the second shelf.

And peanut butter, I think you might be the worst. You and your delicious creamy taste and 170 calories for 2 tablespoons. You're ridiculous and I don't have to take this. I will punch you in the throat, peanut butter.

Why is there so much delicious food in the world?

Wednesday night dinner, you're now my favorite meal

I thought all day about what I should say regarding our new Wednesday night dinner routine. I mean, I walk the fine line between informing y'all and bragging about the awesome things that happen to me. So, please don't' be too jealous when you read about our amazing evening Wednesday.

We live about a half-mile from a place called Beef O' Bradys. Is that just a Florida place, or what? Cause they are all over Florida. Anyway, they have good wings and other "bar food", you know the stuff that you just look at the appetizers and your face breaks out and your heart just throws up the white flag of surrender. And what I mean by all that is, the good stuff. By the way, my last meal would consist of motz sticks, stuffed mushrooms, potato skins and cheese fries with bacon.

Wednesday nights are a very special and magical night at Beefs because it's not only half-priced appetizer night, but also 99 cent draft beer AND 59 cent wing night.

But the best part about it is Magic Mike is on hand to entertain the young and young-at-heart (like my Hubby). Magic Mike is this awesome dude who is a magician, juggler, balloon artist and riddle teller. He makes what could be a pretty quick, cheap and greasy meal into a evening of fun and mystery! The best part is his scrolling, digital Magic Mike! name tag. It really completes the ensemble and makes him legit.

Two weeks ago we went to Beefs and Hubby was all, is that guy supposed to be here, or is he just a local that shows up on his own and hangs out and makes balloon animals? Cause if so -- creepy. That day he came to our table and was like, would you like to see a card trick? Which was awesome. And then he gave us a little puzzle using matchsticks to take home and ponder over until next Wednesday. So at this point, we realize that he's someone who Beef's pays to entertain each Wednesday.

I mean, party over at Beef's, y'all!

This week Hubby was totally eager to eat at Beefs and I'm pretty sure it was because of Magic Mike.  We walked in and Hubby saw him and said, "Oh, Magic Mike is here!" and we sat down and then he literally could not stop trying to get Magic Mike's attention. We're sitting there and the conversation goes a little something like this:

Me: Did you bring us here just so you can see Magic Mike?
Hubby: um, of course.
Me: Why?
Hubby: Because he has cool balloon animals and puzzles and card tricks. And because he's awesome.

Then he quietly starts chanting, "Magic Mike! Magic Mike!" and says he really wants a balloon animal.

Then he screams "Hey! Magic Mike!" across the restaurant. Magic Mike comes over and says hi, and Hubby says, "Mike, we were here last week! You gave us a puzzle! We'd like another puzzle today!" And Mike says he'll give us a new puzzle after we order our food.

So the time comes and Mike stops back by and hands my husband a cubed box puzzle for him to figure out while we ate. The next hour consisted of Hubby simultaneously eating our appetizers and wings and figuring out this puzzle. Meanwhile, I'm doing everything possible to get his attention by reading headlines off of a muted Pardon the Interruption.

Me: You know what? I really think Colorado will upset Kansas tonight.
Hubby: [eyes on the puzzle] No way. Not gonna happen.
Me: I really think so...wait, is the Colorado logo a buffalo with a CU on it?
Hubby: Yeah, and they aren't going to upset Kansas. Now, I know that this piece will fit in the middle, but what goes on top? [eats chicken wing]

I mean without missing a beat with his wooden puzzle!

Me: I'm just going to say it. I think LeBron James might be a better defender than Michael Jackson. I mean Michael Jordan.
Hubby: [Extreme puzzle concentration] Nobody is better than Michael Jordan; you're crazy.
Me: Well think about it. LeBron James is just such a good defender.
Hubby: I think these puzzle pieces to on top...

Later on Magic Mike came back over and helped Hubby with one last puzzle piece, then created the most beautiful pink balloon poodle. It was pretty much the best dinner ever.

Can anybody top the awesomeness of Beef 'O Bradys on Wednesday?

Papa Johns has good pizza, but odd workers

What is it with me and weird interactions with restaurant workers?

Living in a college town is always a treat because you have a wide variety of young, awkward students trying to make a couple bucks in the middle of their busy schedules of going to class, drinking and taking naps. They are experts at only one thing: uncomfortable conversations.

University of Kentucky is playing today and we decided to get pizza at Papa Johns. I went to pick up the pizza in my UK shirt and hat and the following conversation occurred with the young fella behind the counter:

Me: Hi, I'm picking up a pizza for Austin?
Worker: Ok, that'll be $10.67. So, is Kentucky playing today?
Me: Yes, they are.
Worker: Who are they playing?
Me: Auburn.
Worker: Cool. I'm looking forward to the Vikings game tomorrow.
Me: Oh yeah. I guess we might watch that, too. [which is of course, me making conversation]
Worker: Oh, you watch sports? Some girls don't like to watch sports. I mean women. I mean females. I mean ladies.
Me: Yeah, well I usually read  while my husband is watching.
Worker: Like what?
Me: ....!?
Worker *blink*
Me: You mean, what do I read?
Worker: Yeah...
Me: Magazines, usually. US Weekly. You know, gossip magazines.
Worker: So, like, you get to find out what Angelina Jolie is up to.
Me: [laughing] Right, who got married, who broke up, who's on drugs, who lost weight.
Worker: [laughing] Who died!
Me: Um, yeah?
Worker: Ok, have a great day! Go Auburn!

Was he trying to hit on me, or just doesn't know how to have a normal interaction with another human?

Taco Bell is run by drunk people, maybe?

Last night, after working around the house for several hours, Hubby and I decided to go to Taco Bell for dinner. Before you judge us too much for the fat content in food we eat, it was 10:30 and not much else was open.

So anyway, we're in the drive through, trying to decide on our dinner among all the amazingly delicious culinary delights on the Taco Bell menu. A female voice asked us if we were ready to order and Hubby said we needed a second. Then, a second male voice came through the speaker.

"If you need help deciding, we have highly trained taco specialists available. Let me know if you're interested. I highly recommend the steak and cheese quesadilla," he said.

I looked at Hubby and he looked at me and we immediately broke into uncontrolled quiet laughter.

I honestly don't know if the kid was just having some fun or he seriously believed that he was a highly-trained taco specialist. However, I do know that Taco Bell is either run by or caters exclusively to drunk people.

Pumpkin Cream Cakes: A great excuse to eat cake and pretend it's a breakfast food

I love the holidays because of all the seasonal treats with cinnamon and spice. I'm a sucker for cinnamon in any way, shape or form. I wanted to buy one of those brooms that smell like cinnamon, but Hubby told me you have to burn them somehow, not just sweep your house with cinnamon flavor, so I passed.

A Mom at Hubby's school made these muffins for him for his birthday and they were delicious! This is a perfect treat for Thanksgiving morning or if you have company. This makes a ton of muffins (I got 24 muffins out of the recipe. Enjoy!

1 pkg. Spice Cake Mix
1 pkg. (3.4 oz.) Jello Vanilla Instant Pudding
1 cup canned pumpkin
1 pkg. (8 oz.) Philly cream cheese, softened
1/4 cup sugar
1 egg

Heat oven to 350 degrees. Prepare cake batter as directed on package. Add dry pudding mix and pumpkin; mix well. Spoon into 24 paper-lined muffin cups. Beat cream cheese with mixer until creamy. Blend in sugar and egg; spoon over batter. Swirl gently with small spoon. Bake 21 to 25 minutes or until toothpick inserted in centers comes out clean. Cool 5 min.; remove to wire racks. Cool completely.

This is what's wrong with America

Did you know they have a new blizzard at Dairy Queen that is both Oreos AND cookie dough? And hot fudge? And all that blended with ice cream that is already high in sugar, fat and calories. Of course Kelsey and I had to get one last night to try it (the coupon was a nice incentive, too).Admittedly, it was tasty, but is it necessary?

It's like the other day at Steak and Shake when we were introduced to the Wisconsin Butter Burger, a "dream come true for butter and burger lovers". I mean it is literally a hamburger grilled with a monstrous amount of butter. And onions grilled in butter. And cheese, probably also grilled in butter. And a buttery bun. And then you can top it off with bacon cheese fries and a Red Bull vanilla milkshake. Make sure you get it To-Go so you can drink it on the way to your quadruple bypass surgery that is a result of that horrendously unhealthy meal.