tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35754843871538208102024-03-13T05:03:49.707-05:00Miss HealthypantsTechnically wine is healthy, right?Miss Healthypantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02388211920649065327noreply@blogger.comBlogger355125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575484387153820810.post-32076491191616191412012-06-14T17:45:00.001-05:002012-06-14T17:51:44.587-05:00A Tale of Two KittiesIwanski and I have two cats, Autumn and Hattie. <br />
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They are both old-ass 15-year-old cats. And recently, they have both decided to be more annoying than EVER.<br />
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Lately, Hattie has taken to crying/whining/meowing every night, a few times a night – usually after she eats her dinner and also sometimes when we’re sleeping at night. She starts her series of little pitiful meows, and then we call to her, and she comes running to us, wanting to be petted. We pet her for a minute, she runs away, and sometimes she even starts crying again a few minutes later. But when we call to her and pet her, she always shuts up. What is UP with that?! <br />
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But she’s cute. So we cut her a break.<br />
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At bedtime, her usual routine is to wait for Iwanski to get into bed, and then she’ll jump up and curl up next to him, under the blanket. I have to admit that it’s pretty cute – she loves Iwanski.<br />
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And then there’s Autumn – our little troublemaker. Autumn only wants one thing every night – to lie next to me on the couch and get a continuous belly rub from me all night long before I go to bed. <br />
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So to accomplish this, she does the following: <br />
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1. She perches on the coffee table in the dining room – which is often cluttered with books, magazines, etc. (We’re slobs, what can I say?) <br />
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2. She then proceeds to walk all over the table and swipes at objects on the table, knocking each one down and staring at me every time she does so. <br />
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3. She repeats, repeats, and repeats this process until the annoyance gets to be too much, and I invite her to lie down with me on the couch. <br />
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I cannot TELL you how annoying that behavior it is. And yes, it’s freakin’ funny. Damn cat, she’s got me trained well. :) <br />
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Oh, and if I pet her for only just a little while – not enough to her satisfaction – then she starts the whole annoyance routine over again. <br />
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Oh my gosh, these cats are crazy!!<br />
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So anyway… <br />
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I just sent Iwanski the picture below and said “Here's a picture of you and me at night.” <br />
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His response? "Where's Hattie?"<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik7YXdm5F6MWNDtvWun_1IQDf2Du6y0YuTYhVcKJI0XMCl8zoanv62rNB6M5pklVsIp3AjysaC_f0hF8kWieH6_P5hl1FhmuGUj1TriKIowWhyphenhyphenPKK8qBuTMQkpf4KBYoRSqS5eMr9N9Ije/s1600/rillas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik7YXdm5F6MWNDtvWun_1IQDf2Du6y0YuTYhVcKJI0XMCl8zoanv62rNB6M5pklVsIp3AjysaC_f0hF8kWieH6_P5hl1FhmuGUj1TriKIowWhyphenhyphenPKK8qBuTMQkpf4KBYoRSqS5eMr9N9Ije/s400/rillas.jpg" width="400" /></a>Miss Healthypantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02388211920649065327noreply@blogger.com140tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575484387153820810.post-32749805631180473202011-11-26T18:26:00.001-06:002011-11-26T18:28:30.504-06:00Treats and SplurgesWow, I haven’t written on this blog in quite a while. Oh well, there’s no time like the present!<br /><br />I just wanted to make an observation about Thanksgiving dinner – and eating, in general.<br /><br />Before my husband’s heart surgery last year, both he and I used to eat pretty much whatever unhealthy food we wanted (except that I would make myself eat veggies every day, at least). Fried chicken with the skin on it? Sure, why not. A big, juicy, bacon cheeseburger? Hell, yes!<br /><br />But then, of course, we had the BIG WAKE-UP CALL last December. <br /><br />And we both got healthy. A quadruple bypass can be quite convincing.<br /><br />Now, we eat very healthy – and particularly heart-healthy – diets. <br /><br />Except for on splurge days. I LOVE splurge days!<br /><br />You see, every two weeks, we have a full-on splurge day where we eat anything we want – cheeseburgers, barbecue ribs, chicken wings – you name it, we’ll eat it! And of course, we’ll have a splurgey dessert, too – candy bars and ice cream have definitely been consumed on splurge days. <br /><br />As Iwanski’s doctor said, “It’s not what you do on occasion that matters, it’s what you do on a daily basis.” <br /><br />So we invented the concept of splurge days. The rules of the splurge are as follows: 1) Splurge days can only happen every two weeks OR on holidays and birthdays, and 2) Whatever you eat, you are not allowed to feel guilty afterwards. Because splurge days actually keep us eating healthy for the rest of the time. Whenever we’re craving something unhealthy, we just think…I can eat that in ___ days…and before you know it, it’s that magical time again! And we’re eating pizza and chocolate chip cookies and enjoying the hell out of ‘em.<br /><br />But of course, because splurge days are only every two weeks and on holidays, we have to carefully evaluate what we’d like to eat on the next splurge day. So during the pre-splurge two weeks, we have a lot of discussions about what would be the next good thing to eat. Pizza has been a favorite splurge of ours, as have cheeseburgers, and bacon & eggs.<br /><br />So this whole “splurge” concept has really changed the way I view food, in the sense that I would never want to WASTE a splurge day on something I don’t really love to eat. And for that matter, why should I ever eat something that I don’t really care for? <br /><br />And yet, I realized that during my lifetime, I have certainly done that. <br /><br />Back then, before the BIG WAKE-UP CALL, my thinking would go something like this…<br /><br />A coworker makes a veggie dip that I find rather repulsive? Well, I would still finish the portion that I took. I don’t want to hurt her feelings – plus I should clean my plate – after all, there are starving people in Africa right? (Childhood thinking sometimes takes a while to get rid of.) Or I am at a restaurant and just paid $15 for an asparagus salad that I’m really not enjoying? Well, I still better eat it – gotta get my money’s worth!<br /><br />And then there is the traditional Thanksgiving food that everyone else seems to love – turkey, stuffing, and mashed potatoes. Every year in the past, I would take a small portion of those items and force-feed them to myself. After all, that’s what you eat on Thanksgiving – it didn’t matter if you really like it or not.<br /><br />But you know what? I really <strong><em><em>don’t</em></em></strong> like turkey, or stuffing, or mashed potatoes. (Gag!)<br /><br />I’d rather eat ham, and veggies, and of course, pumpkin pie!<br /><br />So this year, during our Thanksgiving “splurge meal” – and without even really thinking about it – I skipped right past the turkey, stuffing, and mashed potatoes and went right for the honey-baked ham. (Yum!) And continued to fill my plate with things I loved – like my sister’s cheesy hashbrowns, cranberries from a can (much better than the real thing, you know!), and pumpkin pie – not to mention my new favorite – a heavenly, decadent pumpkin pudding pecan concoction that another one of my sisters graced us with this year.<br /><br />And OH MY GOSH, that was the best splurge ever!! I didn’t miss the turkey, stuffing, or mashed potatoes one bit. And I was full – but very PLEASANTLY full. I felt like I had just treated myself to my favorite Thanksgiving dinner ever. <br /><br />Later, as I reflected upon the meal and the day and our lives, in general, I thought, “Shouldn’t that be the way we always treat ourselves? – with kindness?” <br /><br />To me, eating healthy is being kind to myself – but so is having treats on occasion. And if I’m going to treat myself, then I’m really going to treat myself. <br /><br />And the same is true of life. I will continue to work hard at my job, exercise, and do some chores around the house…but when I take time off from all of that, I will enjoy the hell out of my time off – no guilt or worrying allowed. <br /><br />After all, we only have one life to live – and while we should try to preserve it as much as possible, we also should really try to ENJOY it.Miss Healthypantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02388211920649065327noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575484387153820810.post-79005884963486344742011-08-22T23:15:00.001-05:002011-08-22T23:17:19.581-05:00Real Housedogs of SuburbiaA long walk to North Avenue Beach tonight, amongst the shimmering lights of Chitown, reminded me once again how happy I am to be home in my city.
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<br />Recently, Iwanski and I spent some time in the Southwest suburbs. We were full-fledged suburbanites. We drove everywhere and spent lots of time hanging out in the backyard, watching two big puppies duke it out on a daily basis in their playful puppy way that sometimes seemed a bit violent to me. Just for the record, we were housesitting and dogsitting at my sister-in-law’s house whilst she and her family whiled away the hours in southern Califor-ni-ay.
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<br />And it wasn’t so bad. For one thing, there was a pool in the yard. And it was like 80 degrees and sunny pretty much every day. And there were forest preserves close at hand – well, at least close at car. We enjoyed many a hike in the forest and prairie, and even got lucky enough to see a coyote, three garter snakes, and a pair of fluttering bluebirds.
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<br />But Lordy, oh Lordy did I miss my city. And I missed my cats. Yes, I missed the little pukesters – no, I did not miss their twice-weekly bouts of vomiting, but I did miss them and their quiet, unassuming ways.
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<br />For I realized once again just how different cats are than dogs – and just how much easier it is to take care of cats than dogs.
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<br />While we were on suburban dogwatch, it became a daily ritual to be awoken at 7 AM by pacing, collarbell ringing wide-awake big-ass puppies. Here’s a fun fact for your doggy facts repertoire: an English Setter and a Labradoodle are definitely NOT your garden-variety little yippy dogs. They are freakin’ huge.
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<br />Anyway, once the 7 AM pacing and collarbell ringing took place – one time, accompanied by a huge-ass Labradoodle jumping up on the bed next to the snoozing Iwanski – either I or Iwanski would drag our sleepy butts down the stairs to let the puppies out in the yard for their morning constitutional. If I were lucky enough to be on morning puppy pee pee duty that day, then my stumble down the stairs also consisted of having a Labradoodle’s nose nuzzled against my butt, trying to sniff me in a most unpleasant way, while I shoo’ed her away. Nothing like having a puppy’s nose shoved up your ass first thing in the morning! I cringe just thinking about it.
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<br />And then of course there was the morning that I was having quite a lovely sleep-in, with Iwanski on morning puppy patrol, when I heard Iwanski yelling “No, Ginger! No!” downstairs…and came down the stairs to find out that Ginger (the big ole’ Labradoodle puppy once again – poor pup) had chewed through a bottle of Pepcid that she had stolen off the kitchen counter. Luckily, she had not actually eaten any of the pills – but she had definitely chewed through the bottle.
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<br />And maybe it’s just me, but puppies sure do play rough. I don’t know if I could ever really get used to the biting, clawing, pinning down, and mounting behaviors that happen during puppy play.
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<br />I can’t imagine our cats ever sniffing our butts, or eating a medicine bottle, or violently playing—well, okay, the cats are a little violent when they play, but they are much smaller and definitely quieter.
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<br />Clearly, dogs are more of a challenge to deal with than cats.
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<br />But the dogs weren’t the only challenge for my “urban elitist” self. Although Iwanski and I tried to keep as active as possible during our suburban housewatch, we pretty much had to drive every where that we went. Relaxing? You betcha. Healthy? Not so much.
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<br />So when we took the el train back to downtown after our suburban stint, and we arrived home to find our tiny quiet housecats giving us a little “meow” and weaving a little tail-rub around our legs, I just took a deep breath and felt so very grateful to be home.
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<br />And when we walked 8 miles in the city the next day, and 7 miles the day after that, and we spent a lovely Friday night on a 50th floor Marina City balcony with our good friend <a href="http://jbw53191.blogspot.com/">Jonathan</a> and his fun Texan cousin, I felt even more grateful.
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<br />And tonight, as we gazed at the twinkling lights of the city from the shores of shimmering Lake Michigan, I don’t think I’ve ever felt more grateful to live here.
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<br />I am home. And I love my city.
<br />Miss Healthypantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02388211920649065327noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575484387153820810.post-44399733228300875912011-04-20T21:38:00.000-05:002011-04-20T21:39:17.309-05:00Out of PlaceAt my job, I am very organized and efficient. If a task needs to get done quickly and accurately, I am often called upon to complete said task…and if asked, I am usually able to find needed documents or files at a moment’s notice. <br /><br />Not so much at home.<br /><br />Home is where I cut loose, where I walk in and casually throw my coat on the couch and my purse on the living room floor…and then throw my work clothes in a crumpled heap on the bedroom floor whilst I change into my comfy play clothes (which were also previously lying in a crumpled heap on the bedroom floor). <br /><br />I just don’t really care too much about being neat and organized at home. <br /><br />Now mind you, I’ve tried to change these bad habits. I’ve bought and read several books on organization and have followed some of the advice—but it always comes back to one simple principle: I just don’t care enough about staying neat and organized at home. At home I just want to RELAX. And somehow hanging up my coat and putting my clothes in their proper places just doesn’t seem like relaxation to me. <br /><br />And in particular, one of my really bad habits is that I love to put stuff on the floor. Books, magazines, purses, water bottles…you name it, I’ll put it on the floor. I think that somehow my brain looks at the floor and thinks “There’s a big, open, clear space to put my stuff!” It’s that simple. And it really drives Iwanski crazy.<br /><br />Anyway, one of the problems with being so—I like to call it “carefree”— at home (besides driving my husband nuts) is that when I have something that I really need to do—like send an e-mail to someone or sew a button on my shirt or put chicken in the refrigerator to defrost—I really need to set up a strong reminder for myself to remember to do that task…because otherwise I will totally forget.<br /><br />Often, I remember these “things to do” when I happen to be working late at my office. So I’ll call home and leave myself a message on our answering machine. Or even better—if Iwanski is home, I’ll ask him to “put something out of place” to remind me to do that task. For example, if he puts our model Blues Brothers car on top of our stove, that helps me to remember that there is something that I need to do. I know, it seems pretty weird—but to me, it’s easier and quicker (not to mention more fun) than writing a note (as if writing a note is that challenging!—whatever)…it works for me. <br /><br />In the past, Iwanski has put many things out of place for me—like the time that I came home and found his guitar tuner sitting on the back of the toilet. (“What is the guitar tuner doing in the bathroom? Oh yeah…I have to e-mail my Mom.”)<br /><br />It’s a pretty good system, don’t you think?<br /><br />So today, while working late, I called Iwanski and asked him to “put something out of place” to remind myself to send a postcard to my Grandma (I send my 95-year-old Grandma a Chicago postcard about once a week or so). Then I promptly forgot about it.<br /><br />Later tonight, while exercising, I thought about it again and asked Iwanski, “Hey, what did you put out of place for me?” <br /><br />“Oh, I put that bird identification book on the floor, on your yoga mat,” he replied. <br /><br />“Oh,” I said. “I didn’t even realize it. It didn’t seem out of place to me.”<br /><br />“Of course it didn’t!” He laughed. “I forgot, you put everything on the floor!” <br /><br />We both laughed, and then he continued, “I think that for you, I’d have to put something REALLY big on the floor. I think you’d have to walk in the house and see an Alpaca standing there.”<br /><br />I laughed harder. <br /><br />He continued “…And there would need to be a sign around the Alpaca’s neck that says ‘I am out of place.’”<br /><br />Have I mentioned lately how much I love that man? He is the funniest person I know, and I’m so grateful to have him in my life.Miss Healthypantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02388211920649065327noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575484387153820810.post-83999224299093128372011-04-13T20:25:00.002-05:002011-04-13T20:26:35.343-05:00Dukin' It OutI know, I know, I haven’t blogged in so very long…and you know what? The longer I’ve been away from it, the harder it is to start up again. It’s like I feel like I have to write something really profound or something. But no. I am about to write about some absolutely meaningless crap. I hope you enjoy it!<br /><br />Lately, just for silliness’s sake, Iwanski and I have been watching episodes of the Dukes of Hazzard. I’m telling you, if you grew up in the early 80’s, there is nothing like watching the Dukes of Hazzard to make you feel like a kid again. Every time we turn it on, I am immediately transported to a Friday night back in 1982, watching Rosco P. Coltrane and Boss Hogg battling it out with the Duke boys. Too freakin’ funny. It was a fun show to grow up with. <br /><br />I may have written about this before, but when I was a kid, my two good neighborhood friends and I would play the Dukes of Hazzard as we raced around on our bikes. Since there were only three of us – one boy and two girls – we had a very limited cast of characters. The boy, Jeff Flanders, was blonde-haired, so of course he had to be Bo Duke. And then there were us two girls, my best friend Cari and I…and both of us wanted to be Daisy Duke. What to do, what to do? Well, a very simple solution came from our very simple eight-year-old minds – we would be…Daisy One and Daisy Two! I still laugh when I think about that. <br /><br />Anyway, I’ve realized that even as an adult, the Dukes of Hazzard is still entertaining…especially since Iwanski and I spend half the episodes pausing our Tivo and making fun of the show. We laugh at the fact that in every single freakin’ episode, the Duke boys are always somehow held at gunpoint, and always by just some random evil strangers who just happen to be traveling through good ole’ Hazzard County. And at least once in every episode, Bo and Luke have to dodge barrels or rocks or some kind of huge boulders rolling down a hill right at their car. Oh, and the police just generally look the other way at the fact that the Duke boys act as vigilante crime-solvers and always end up catching the bad guys. In fact, Boss Hogg and his police brigade (Rosco P. Coltrane and Enos—later replaced by Cletus) generally welcome the Duke Boys’ assistance in solving crimes. It’s just assumed that the Duke Boys will catch the bad guys in whatever way they can; no questions asked. <br /><br />And by the way, the guy who played Boss Hogg (Sorrell Booke) was freakin’ brilliantly funny. I don’t know why I never realized that when I was a kid—I was just too busy hating that character. Now, I think he’s an absolutely amazing actor—completely committed to the part. <br /><br />I guess the thing that I like best about the show is that even though the good guys always end up in sticky or dangerous situations, through all of it, there’s always this sense of community with the main characters. You know that no matter what, when it really comes down to it, any one of them would do anything to keep the others safe. Yup, the Dukes of Hazzard really shows the love. <br /><br />And now I’ve written an entire blog post about the Dukes of Hazzard. <br /><br />Aren’t you just so glad that I’m back to blogging again?Miss Healthypantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02388211920649065327noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575484387153820810.post-60086129276148542992011-03-14T19:04:00.004-05:002011-03-14T19:07:38.819-05:00Inspiration (or Lack Thereof)I am officially Miss Healthypants. <br /><br />I’m down 15 pounds, and after a recent Treadmill Stress Test and blood test, I can confirm that I am indeed healthy. <br /><br />Healthy heart? Check. Good cholesterol levels? Check. Good calcium levels, iron levels, and all other associated “levels”? Check. <br /><br />And Iwanski? Oh yeah, he’s healthy, too. He’s down almost 40 pounds, and doing just fantastic. We’re just a couple of healthypantses.<br /><br />Now the question is…what’s next for me? <br /><br />I feel like lately, I’ve been asking myself the same question over and over and over again:<br /><br />What do I want to be when I grow up?<br /><br />I like my job as Customer Service Manager…but is this what I want to be forever?<br /><br />I like to write…but I’ve barely written two non-work-related sentences lately. <br /><br />I like to be “counselor” to my close friends when they are having difficulties in life…especially when I feel like I can really help them. So do I want to somehow pursue a psychology-related career?<br /><br />And then there’s the old acting bug. Some days, I do feel like I’d like to try acting again. I know, I know, the acting field is fraught with disappointment and rejection—it’s just the nature of the beast—but I just feel like somehow, I need to express myself.<br /><br />But what do I really even want to say? What is there about me that even wants to be expressed?<br /><br />And then I think, what if somehow I could be a motivational speaker or something cool like that? Wouldn’t that be fun? <br /><br />But how exactly does one become a motivational speaker? And what would I talk about? <br /><br />And how can I motivate others when it seems that sometimes I have a hard time motivating myself?<br /><br />Oh sure, I can motivate myself to exercise and lose weight. But the real motivation for that came from Iwanski’s experience. I want to have a strong and healthy heart. Period. <br /><br />But what motivates me? What inspires me? Sometimes I feel lacking in inspiration.<br /><br />Perhaps it’s this endless wintery-type weather that’s driving me a little nuts. Surely I can’t be the only one feeling this way. As a matter of fact, I know I’m not. I’ve seen countless postings of “I’m sick of winter” peppered throughout my Facebook friends’ pages. <br /><br />But it’s more than that. I want to feel inspired. I want to find the “thing”—the catch that sparks my imagination and creativity. I want to be creative—but even more so, I want to FEEL creative. <br /><br />But how? Where do I start?<br /><br />And then I think that it’s merely my ego talking. My ego is never satisfied with how things are—it always wants more, more, more! <br /><br />And then I am reminded of a Buddhist saying that I once read, “Strive to be ordinary.”<br /><br />Strive to be ordinary. What does that mean? Does that mean that none of us should hope to be more than what we are today? Or does it just mean that we should not become attached to the idea of ourselves “standing out” somehow; that we should be content with being?—just being? <br /><br />All I know is, this spiritual hunger won’t go away. I crave creativity, I crave inspiration…and somehow I need to find exactly what it is that inspires me. <br /><br />Yes, I know that I certainly feel inspired and moved by basic human emotions—like love, and empathy, and pure joy…and I love animals, in all their lack of ego…and I feel inspired by the words and the images that others share on a daily basis.<br /><br />But how can I translate that feeling, that appreciation for all of these things, into an expression of my own creativity?<br /><br />Or am I wrong for wanting that? Should I just be satisfied with who I am, with living an ordinary life? <br /><br />I will meditate on this…and I will meditate on all that I have to be grateful for…because somewhere, in that list of a million and one things that I am so very grateful for, has to be my inspiration. I will find it and do what I need to do.<br /><br />Whether I write a poem or sing a song or paint a picture…I will express what’s inside of me.<br /><br />And perhaps...I've already started.Miss Healthypantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02388211920649065327noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575484387153820810.post-90814423603195248202011-02-19T15:52:00.024-06:002011-02-19T17:20:26.342-06:00Learn, Baby, Learn...Sometimes in life, I get this feeling like I get it--I mean, I really get it--I'm happy and solid and have learned all I really need to learn in life. I know what I'm doing, and I'm in control. <br /><br />And then a two-by-four smacks me over the head and forces me to learn much more than I ever thought I needed to know. <br /><br />That two-by-four was my husband's sudden unexpected heart surgery on Christmas Eve. It was almost two months ago now, and sometimes it seems unreal that it ever even happened. I mean, my 36-year-old husband, who takes three or four hour walks with me every weekend day--him? He had to have open heart surgery? Unbelievable!<br /><br />And yet it happened, and certainly every day I'm ever so grateful that he's doing so well. During this time, I've definitely learned the importance of family and good friends...but I feel like I've learned so much more...some little things and some bigger things. But most of all, I've realized that I probably won't ever have it all figured out--and I suppose most of us won't. I believe that a big part of our purpose as human beings is to learn, and unfortunately, sometimes the learning comes from a really crappy situation. <br /><br />So without further adieu, here are some things I've learned (some of them a little silly, but I've learned them all the same!) over the past two months:<br /><br />1. The American media/culture is very concerned about making sure we lose weight and look skinny, but they couldn't give a crap about how healthy are bodies are. I mean, for evidence, look at all the diet pills that are out there--and how many of them turn out to be bad for your heart--or at the very least, give you very explosive diarrhea. But that doesn't matter to those who are manufacturing those pills. It's only important that we be skinny--even if you're skinny and your hair is falling out. That's okay--just as long as you can fit into your size 2 jeans. <br /><br />2. The number of fat grams in food doesn't matter as much as the kind of fat in the food. I used to just look at how much total fat a food had...but saturated fat is absolutely the worst kind of fat. Some kinds of fats are actually good for you. Saturated fat is absolutely not. And I never used to look at the cholesterol content in foods, either. Now I've learned that saturated fat and cholesterol directly contribute to heart disease--both in men and in women. Oh yeah, and just in case you're wondering, heart disease is the number one killer among WOMEN. Yeah, I had never even considered that; I always thought that it was more of a man's disease. I was certainly more concerned about breast cancer or something like that. Heart disease? But I ate healthy! (Or so I thought.) <br /><br />3. I've learned how to spell cholesterol. (I don't know why, I've always struggled with the spelling of that word.) <br /><br />4. Most of the food that is sold in restaurants--both fast food and sit-down restaurants--is really bad for you. I know, this is probably a duh! thing for many of you...but for me, I really sincerely thought that if I was eating a simple Chicken Caesar salad for many of my non-homecooked meals, then I was eating really healthy.<br /><br />But surprise! Most Chicken Caesar salads are just loaded with fat and cholesterol. And you know why? Well, of course chicken has some fat and cholesterol...but the dressing is usually really really full of that nasty stuff...and the cheese! My God, the cheese! Cheese is the absolute worst culprit when it comes to saturated fat and cholesterol content. And I grew up in Wisconsin--I grew up on cheese! When I was younger, I never gave it a second thought. But Lord above, now I avoid cheese as much as possible. And don't get me wrong--I love the stuff. But I love the idea of having a long life even more. <br /><br />5. It's very, very important to give yourself time to process and grieve over a scary or sad event in your life--even if everything turned out okay and you think you're fine and you think you can handle everything with no problem at all. <br /><br />I was learning to cook, I was helping take care of Iwanski, I was doing a lot of the housework, and I was working full-time. No problem, I could handle this! In fact, I even mentioned to a good friend of mine that I was really proud of myself for how I was handling this whole thing. (Note to self: Pride cometh before the fall.)<br /><br />And then I started getting chest pains. And then back pains. And then both. <br /><br />And I was scared. So I went to see two different doctors, and the diagnosis came back the same from both of them: It wasn't my heart, it was just stress. I had an EKG. It was normal. I had my cholesterol checked. Perfectly normal. <br /><br />Just stress?! But I was getting chest pains like 4 or 5 times a day, and they certainly didn't feel like just stress! I was feeling panicky, and silently thanking my previous doctor for giving me 10 extra Xanax pills last time I saw her. <br /><br />And then one day, as I sat in a nearby train station, eating my lunch, I suddenly felt like I just couldn't take it any more. I felt like the weight of the world was on my shoulders, and I just broke down and cried. Right there in front of men in business suits and the tourists with their children, who were scarfing down their Panda Express and Taco Bell...I just started sobbing. <br /><br />And the worst part was, I kept thinking, "Why can't I handle this? What's wrong with me? I'm stronger than this. I'm usually a positive person. Why am I feeling so damn negative?"<br /><br />So I did what many girls would do in my situation. I called up my best girlfriend--and even though I was pretty sure she'd be at work, she actually answered. And for the next half hour, as I cried and cried and just let everything out--all my fears, all my stress, all my sadness, she just listened. I will be forever grateful to her for that. <br /><br />And later that night, I cried even more still, this time to my beloved Iwanski. And he sat and listened and then cried a little himself. <br /><br />We both needed to grieve a little. This was quite a traumatic event in our lives, and we had to grieve the fact that we weren't going to be going to the Chinese buffet every weekend any more, or drinking beer as often...and we now have to be more vigilent about our health (especially him)...it was a big lifestyle change for both of us, and it certainly didn't come without some stress. But at least we're in it together, and changes are much easier to handle when you're going through them with the one you love.<br /><br />That night, as Iwanski and I grieved together, we grew even closer, and he assured me that I didn't have to do everything on my own. He was getting better every day, and I needed to stop trying to do it all and let him help me, too. <br /><br />And the next day, I had no more chest pain. And none the next day. Or the day after that. <br /><br />As my best girlfriend said, "You just needed a release." Indeed, I did.<br /><br />6. When you're tired, it's important to rest. Even if--and I would say ESPECIALLY if--you feel like you shouldn't be tired. <br /><br />One day a few weeks ago, after a workout on our exercise bike, a three-mile walk with Iwanski, a trip to the grocery store, and doing the laundry, I put a low-fat, homemade pizza in the oven, and then bent down to put some dishes in the dishwasher. <br /><br />And suddenly, a wave of tiredness washed over me...and then came the chest pain. <br /><br />"Push through it!" I thought to myself, as I continued to put spoons and knives and plates into the dishwasher. <br /><br />But suddenly, the chest pain got worse, and I knew I couldn't push through it. I walked over to the living room and laid right down on the carpet and stretched out my arms and legs, taking some deep breaths. <br /><br />At first, I admonished myself for not being able to keep cleaning. But then I finally gave up and gave myself a break, and just rested. By the time the pizza was done, I was feeling much better and had no more chest pain. <br /><br />So I've learned: When you're tired, don't have a debate with yourself--just rest. <br /><br />7. I've also learned that I enjoy some foods that I never thought I would--like <a href="http://allrecipes.com//Recipe/baked-kale-chips/Detail.aspx">baked kale chips</a> (they're light and crispy and similar to potato chips--yummy!) and this <a href="http://www.eatingwell.com/recipes/black_bean_soup.html">awesome black bean soup</a> that's incredibly easy to make. Quick, healthy, and yummy--whoo hoo! <br /><br />But most of all, I've learned that I still have much more to learn. No, I don't have it all figured out, and I'm not perfect. And I know that some days I will struggle, but at least I now know that with each struggle, I will learn something new and valuable...and then happiness will follow again soon after.Miss Healthypantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02388211920649065327noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575484387153820810.post-60356569134375769912011-02-01T17:38:00.010-06:002011-02-01T17:55:48.820-06:00Groundhog DumpOK, I have a secret.<br /><br />As much as I complain about how I hate the cold and snowy winter here in Chi-town...<br /><br />I love a good snow day!!!! This blizzard stuff is actually pretty cool if you don't have to go out in it, and if you don't know anyone else who has to go out in it. <br /><br />My office closed early today and will most likely be closed tomorrow. Yay! Of course, we are all "encouraged" to work from home tomorrow, but sitting on the couch working in your PJ's sure beats showering, donning dress clothes, fixing your hair, putting on makeup, and trudging 5 blocks in the heavy snow to work. Who cares if I get a little stinky from not showering tomorrow? Iwanski will just have to deal with it. <br /><br />I think I'll make a big pot of soup tonight and just embrace the gift of solitude that Mother Nature has given us today. <br /><br />And I'm not gonna even think about how annoying it's gonna be to trudge through the snow in single-degree temperatures on Thursday morning. <br /><br />Not even gonna think about it!Miss Healthypantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02388211920649065327noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575484387153820810.post-77065415182936295052011-01-18T20:56:00.008-06:002011-01-18T21:19:20.676-06:00Whew!Whew! I feel like my life has been such a whirlwind lately! But all is well, and Iwanski is doing well, so I couldn't be happier.<br /><br />I've been busy working, exercising like a mad woman (gotta keep my heart healthy, too!), and researching and cooking healthy, yummy recipes. <br /><br />It's been busy, but honestly, I'm having fun with the whole healthy eating and exercising thing. I love our new exercise bike that Iwanski's family were so very kind to buy for us, and best of all, I've discovered that I really do like cooking! <br /><br />I have to marvel at the magic of the universe sometimes. It really was a natural progression for me, to learn to cook and enjoy cooking.<br /><br />It all started a couple of Christmases ago, when we did a "homemade gifts" Christmas with Iwanski's family. I decided to bake cookies for Iwanski's sister, and I discovered that I like baking. So over the next year or two, I started to bake more and more often--but I still didn't really like cooking. I think that most of it was just that I was afraid to try it and fail.<br /><br />Then, my good friend <a href="http://jbw53191.blogspot.com/">Jonathan</a> started to have me over for "Julia Child night" every Tuesday, during which he showed me many useful and relatively simple cooking techniques, like how to chop an onion, or how to peel & devein shrimp. I started to realize that cooking wasn't quite as crazy-difficult or as scary as I had previously thought. I began to develop "cooking confidence" and made a couple of tasty dishes that Iwanski and I really enjoyed.<br /><br />Then, this whole thing with Iwanski's surgery happened. It was completely unexpected--something I couldn't have prepared for--but I do feel in a way that the Universe was at least preparing me for one part of Iwanski's recovery--how to cook healthy meals for him...and for me! I've got a good 30 pounds to lose, too. <br /><br />But guess what? I've already lost 5 pounds! Whoo hoo! This healthy eating and exercising thing really does work, folks. The challenge is to make sure that we stick to it. But I'll tell you, there's nothing more motivating than open-heart surgery!<br /><br />Now I'm eagerly doing things like sprouting my own bean sprouts, researching healthy seafood recipes, and looking up recipes for various types of hummus...I just found one for sweet potato hummus that sounds divine! <br /><br />So I guess life handed us a bit of a lemon recently...and I'm making a giant jar of lemonade!<br /><br />Oh, and for all of my wonderful blog buddies who have been busy posting and haven't seen a single comment from me, I want to assure you that I will be back soon to read blog posts and leave a comment or two. Believe me, I do miss reading your funny, interesting, and even sometimes silly blog posts. I've just been a wee bit busy as of late.<br /><br />But as former California governor Ahhhhnold said in The Terminator... "I'll be back!"Miss Healthypantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02388211920649065327noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575484387153820810.post-86783865034058608992011-01-08T17:19:00.017-06:002011-01-08T18:26:10.653-06:00I'm Back!Well, it's been two weeks since Iwanski had quadruple bypass surgery...and first and foremost, I want to say that he's doing well. He's recuperating very well and even though he thinks he should be running marathons by now, I tell him that a six-block walk only two short weeks after open-heart surgery is wonderful! I am very proud of him and his progress.<br /><br />This whole thing took me--and all of our family and friends--by total surprise. We were all shocked when we learned that Iwanski had to have bypass surgery. <br /><br />But here we are, two weeks later, and Iwanski is alive and well and recuperating at a normal rate. And I am so very grateful for that.<br /><br />It was a scary time, and at first very overwhelming for me. Somehow, by the grace of God, I held it all together. Sure, I've cried a good many tears, but so many of them have also been tears of gratefulness to God for saving my beloved, and to our wonderful family and friends, who have been so kind and generous during this trying time. <br /><br />That has really been the most surprising and wonderful thing about this time...how much many of our loved ones reached out with support and offers to help, and as I remarked to my best girlfriend Diane, how many reached out with their own little "nuggets of healing."<br /><br />Like Iwanski's good friends...from Andy, who flew in all the way from Ocala, Florida with his wife and his one-month-old baby in tow, to visit Iwanski in the hospital three times and to give us love, support, and a generous Whole Foods gift card...to Dan, who visited Iwanski in the hospital twice--once with his lovely wife Karen and adorable red-headed little girl--and gave us a bagful of heart-healthy foods, as well as his own brand of hilarious humor...to Mike, who brought Iwanski a book of baseball trivia while he was in the hospital, and quizzed him on baseball facts, which he thoroughly enjoyed...<br /><br />And like our friend Jonathan, who was so supportive and kind to me, before and after the surgery--sticking by me in those first trying days and even staying with me the first two nights that Iwanski was in the hospital--and who delivered three yummy heart-healthy meals to us just one day after Iwanski got home...<br /><br />And like my lovely sister and brother-in-law, Sheri and Rick, who were so supportive and kept the whole family informed via Facebook and phone calls on Iwanski's progress...<br /><br />And all my sisters and brothers and my lovely Mom and Dad, who called and left messages of support--both by phone and by Facebook...and my sister-in-law Lynn, who shipped a case of Fiji water to us (which she says is the purest, best water to drink)...<br /><br />And then there's Iwanski's family...and in particular, my wonderful mother-in-law, who has lived through many a loved one's heart surgery in her life...my sister-in-law Anna, who is a cardiac nurse (how convenient was that?!--you have no idea!)...and my sister-in-law Donna, who works in medical records and has also been an amazing source of medical information to me...I'm telling you, these people are some of the most wonderful people you can ever meet. And they have been so generous!<br /><br />Anna, for starters, has truly been a Godsend to Iwanski and me. She has helped us SO much with her support and medical advice. I don't think I could have gotten through this whole thing without her. Even now, when Iwanski experiences a little dizziness or other strange symptoms, I know that I can call her up, and she'll be able to calm me with her advice and wisdom. I am so grateful for her. Also, she not only got together some of her family members to buy Iwanski and me an exercise bike (I told you they're wonderful people!), but she also came over to help put the bike together AND brought us some healthy groceries to eat...how very nice of her! She's also sent me a bunch of heart-healthy recipes and taught me how to sprout some seeds (sprouts are apparently very good for you)...I'm telling you, she's just a very kind and generous person.<br /><br />And then there's my lovely mother-in-law, Mary Kay, who flooded (and I mean flooded!) our house with groceries when Iwanski came home from the hospital. Anna had told me to send them a grocery list before Iwanski came home, but I had no idea that my mother-in-law would buy everything we needed in bulk! (She loves Costco; I don't know why I was so surprised!) Anyway, it was definitely a welcome surprise...and believe me, just knowing that I now have enough paper towels and chicken breasts to last me through the next Presidential election is very comforting to me. And she's also been a tremendous source of emotional comfort, as well. For starters, she has been through several surgeries with her late husband--including three open-heart surgeries...but believe it or not, her fiance just had open-heart surgery, too (valve replacement surgery), and he was released from the hospital on the same day Iwanski was! I mean, really, who better can understand what Iwanski and I are going through right now? It is so comforting to be able to call her up and say stuff like, "Iwanski gets tired a lot these days," and she says to me, "Yeah, that's normal...he'll be like that for a while." I'm so grateful for her. <br /><br />And last but certainly not least is my sister-in-law Donna. During Iwanski's surgery, Donna helped me stay busy and distracted by letting me play countless games of solitaire on her little electronic hand-held game system (no idea what it's called...but I can tell you that I didn't win one game of solitaire that day--I wasn't exactly at the top of my game!). And since we had to change doctors and hospitals as of January 1st (yes, our insurance changed in the middle of all of this--isn't that wonderful?!), Donna was so generous with her time and spent hours and hours researching doctors and finding the right doctors for Iwanski and me. I am so grateful to her for that! She has also been there for me with little nuggets of wisdom--medical and otherwise--that have been a relief to hear. On the day that I had to go pick up Iwanski's medical records from our old hospital, she was able to tell me exactly which of his medical records that I needed to get, so that I could get them for free (rather than getting every single page, which would have cost me something outrageous like 60 cents a page). I'm telling you, it's certainly helpful to have a sister-in-law who works in medical records! And when Anna came over to help us put together our new exercise bike, Donna had sent along a Brita water filter pitcher that she had bought for us. Talk about generous...I'm so grateful for Donna. <br /><br />And to my best girlfriend Diane, and to all of my wonderful Facebook and blog buddies, who have sent countless messages of support and offers to help, I am so grateful for all of you. <br /><br />I've always thought of myself as a lucky person, but I don't think I ever realized how lucky and blessed I am until now. <br /><br />Especially since I still have my beloved...my loving, kind, funny, creative, wonderful husband, whom I love more and more every day. I know I'm so lucky to have him.<br /><br />And judging by the fact that he just did a little walk/dance around the house for the past 30 minutes, I think he'll be here with me for a really, really long time.Miss Healthypantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02388211920649065327noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575484387153820810.post-11218685604996898762010-12-30T17:26:00.003-06:002010-12-30T17:27:32.775-06:00Iwanski Is Home!--Hooray!And now the healing process begins...thank you all for your prayers and positive thoughts!!<br /><br />I will post more as soon as I am feeling a little more energetic.<br /><br />Happy New Year to all! :)Miss Healthypantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02388211920649065327noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575484387153820810.post-38437550282845127972010-12-24T23:30:00.004-06:002010-12-24T23:37:20.787-06:00Quick Update to My Blog BuddiesMy husband, my beloved Iwanski had a "mild" heart attack and ended up having a quadruple bypass surgery this morning.<br /><br />It's been rough. It's been tiring. It's been scary.<br /><br />But he's doing really well! They took out the breathing tube tonight (yay! You could tell Iwanski HATED that), and he is now resting comfortably in the ICU. <br /><br />I am drained, exhausted, still a little freaked out, and deliriously happy. I thank God, all the prayers from my wonderful family and friends, and the talented and amazing surgeons, technicians, doctors, and nurses at Rush Hospital here in Chicago. <br /><br />I am one lucky woman. God has blessed me by keeping my beloved here with me. It's the best Christmas present I could ever have hoped for. <br /><br />And if ya'll are the praying type, please continue to send more prayers our way. I'm sure it's not a super-easy recovery, but he's on the mend, and the prayers and positive vibes can only help.<br /><br />Merry Christmas to all!!Miss Healthypantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02388211920649065327noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575484387153820810.post-10631970332240093772010-12-19T22:12:00.011-06:002010-12-19T22:40:25.362-06:00Wine, Stuffing, and Christmas CarolsOn Friday night, Iwanski and I got together with our good friend Jonathan to sing Christmas carols and drink some wine/beer. (The al-keehol helps us sing better!) As usual, we had a great time and laughed a lot. <br /><br />Before Jonathan came over, I told him that I had bought him a bottle of Riesling (one of his favorite kinds of wine). What he didn't know was that the bottle of Riesling was...<br /><br />A huge bottle! (I found this at Walgreen's, my favorite store. It's the equivalent of two bottles of wine, in one. Jonathan liked it a lot, as you can see!)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGy9RV11ExBpoww_tjNcB0_PflelU2pwcLyJfMouXcKcuLDZMyC5TSjkkAt4BV6rutuGelsiOcwZD2iIclvr4ohbKVeqCwV-kmC_EPj2Z6d2fyuNHxJ6mLKe7WqVHqE0ptGCZhVskpx6fa/s1600/big+bottle+wine.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGy9RV11ExBpoww_tjNcB0_PflelU2pwcLyJfMouXcKcuLDZMyC5TSjkkAt4BV6rutuGelsiOcwZD2iIclvr4ohbKVeqCwV-kmC_EPj2Z6d2fyuNHxJ6mLKe7WqVHqE0ptGCZhVskpx6fa/s400/big+bottle+wine.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552619067595231298" /></a><br /><br />Later, Jonathan gave me a case of Trader Joe's 2-Buck Chuck wine for Christmas--in assorted flavors. Boy, are we wine-o's, or what? But I do loves me some 2-Buck Chuck!<br /><br />And since he has been cooking delectable Julia Child meals for me so often this past year, I gave him a new Julia Child'ish book called "As Always, Julia: The Letters of Julia Child and Avis DeVoto." He was sooo excited.<br /><br />And then, I said to him, "Since you've been cooking for me all year...I baked for you!" And I came in from the kitchen with some of his favorites: White chocolate macadamia nut cookies, and two types of candy containing white chocolate. (He loves white chocolate--obviously!) He seemed tickled pink with all the yummies. Yay! <br /><br />Oh, and how could I forget? Jonathan also brought Iwanski and me a HUGE pan of his "famous" corn bread/sausage/jalapeno stuffing, which he calls "<a href="http://channelingjulia.blogspot.com/2010/11/dixie-dressing.html">Dixie Dressing</a>." YUM! Immediately, Iwanski and I scooped generous portions into bowls and ate to our heart's content. Now, mind you, I am not generally a fan of stuffing--but this stuff is just sooo good! (And of course, incredibly healthy. Anything cooked with two pounds of sausage and lots of butter has to be healthy, right?) <br /><br />Later, post-stuffing (and after some tasty spirits), we sang several of the traditional Christmas carols, and did our best to sing in three-part harmony. <br /><br />Happy sigh...good times with loved ones...it's what the holidays are all about.Miss Healthypantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02388211920649065327noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575484387153820810.post-66481011866126424372010-12-10T16:31:00.002-06:002010-12-10T16:38:51.997-06:00Miss CheddarpantsIt's official. I can't escape it. I was born a Cheesehead, and a part of me will always be a Cheesehead. <br /><br />Now my sister and brother-in-law have reinforced that fact by sending me, for Christmas...<br /><br />CHEESE! <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs68l97x2OgYCLqDVyD9Z8r1kD08NAJJfugFwbhx01_F7HsT7HUlgd6FAQqOVha8w5D_R_LA2dSGJItDQiKnhA6lr0cnjaOM7h41YR5-9t66n0kbjORdYs0hKu56KrgKyYFjghJnShsyNZ/s1600/CHEESE+BASKET.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs68l97x2OgYCLqDVyD9Z8r1kD08NAJJfugFwbhx01_F7HsT7HUlgd6FAQqOVha8w5D_R_LA2dSGJItDQiKnhA6lr0cnjaOM7h41YR5-9t66n0kbjORdYs0hKu56KrgKyYFjghJnShsyNZ/s400/CHEESE+BASKET.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5549186573628061554" /></a><br /><br />Of course, I am tickled pink. As I have previously-mentioned, instead of a sweet tooth, I have a cheese tooth. And now my cheese tooth will be satisifed. <br /><br />So far, Iwanski and I have sampled the string cheese and chocolate cheese fudge...both were met with glowing reviews. <br /><br />Hooray for cheese!Miss Healthypantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02388211920649065327noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575484387153820810.post-53384710754873199872010-12-05T20:08:00.006-06:002010-12-05T20:10:53.413-06:00Forgetful St. NickCrap! It’s St. Nick’s Day tomorrow! <br /><br />I’m really falling behind in my Miss Santapants duties this year. <br /><br />Here I thought Iwanski and I had had a very productive, Christmasey type of weekend. This weekend, we put up the Christmas tree (sans ornaments), watched the 1938 version of a Christmas Carol, perused a book of historic Chicago Christmas photos together, walked through the Christkindelmart in Chicago’s Daley Plaza, and bought 15 Christmas presents! I thought we had done pretty well.<br /><br />And then my niece posted on Facebook that it’s St. Nick’s Day tomorrow.<br /><br />Crap. <br /><br />Every year at this time, even though we haven’t been blessed with children yet, I like to continue the St. Nick’s tradition from my childhood (of course, nowadays I play St. Nick, rather than being visited by him), and I make a special trip to the store to load up on various candies and beef jerkys (Iwanski’s favorite). Then, in the middle of the night on the 6th, I sneak into the living room and fill Iwanski’s and my stockings with M & M’s and Butterfingers and Milky Ways and jerkys…and then excitedly wait for Iwanski to notice the stockings bulging with their loot in the morning. <br /><br />And of course, he never notices, and then I have to point it out to him in some very obvious way, like saying “Hey, what’s that in your stocking?” And then watch him laugh as he looks over at it. <br /><br />“You’re so nice,” he usually says. “I always forget about St. Nick’s Day.” <br /><br />But now he’s seen it on Facebook, so he remembers. And I totally forgot about it. I did not buy M & M’s or Butterfingers or Milky Ways or beef jerkys. <br /><br />Damn. Some St. Nick I turned out to be!<br /><br />And then, as I was starting to write this blog post, Iwanski reminded me for like the 5th time this weekend, “We still have to put the ornaments on the tree.”<br /><br />Crap! That, too? <br /><br />Well, I’m comforted—if only slightly—by the fact that we do have two stuffed “animals” currently sitting in the tree, that I had placed there a couple of days ago when I was in a silly mood: Curious George and Mr. Hankey the Christmas Poo. That’s right, all that’s on our tree right now is a monkey and a turd. Awesome.<br /><br />And as far as St. Nick’s goes, Iwanski is on a super healthy eating kick lately, so all that candy would be too tempting for him, anyway. Even if he didn’t eat it, I would then be forced to eat it, and well, you know that old song about “Christmas is coming, the goose is getting fat?” Well, I would then effectively become “the goose.” I certainly don’t want that.<br /><br />I suppose I could stuff his stocking with other more healthy treats, but no one wants a stocking full of apples, carrots, and cooked cabbage. <br /><br />Instead, maybe I will make some brownies tonight. I mean, one brownie now and then won’t hurt anyone, right? <br /><br />The trick is not to eat all of the brownies in one sitting. I guess I could only give him one brownie at a time, and hide the others somewhere else in the house.<br /><br />After all, nothing says Christmas like hiding food from your loved ones.Miss Healthypantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02388211920649065327noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575484387153820810.post-21692794122452313812010-12-01T22:05:00.009-06:002010-12-01T22:13:42.248-06:00Tuning Up for the HolidaysEvery year around this time, Iwanski and I talk about how we would like to find a group that goes Christmas caroling around the city. And yet, somehow, every year, the holidays slip away without us ever achieving our dream of singing to perfect strangers while they stand there politely, thinking “How long do I have to stand here smiling while these people sing this damn song?”<br /><br />But we do have one Christmas music tradition that we will be honoring once again this year: the annual Christmas music singalong with our good friend Jonathan. We always have fun, laugh a lot, and sometimes sound really good (sometimes not!), during our various attempts to do three-part harmony to Silent Night, Away in A Manger, and Angels We Have Heard on High.<br /><br />This year, I think I’m gonna try to convince Iwanski & Jonathan to try to harmonize with me to the song “I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas.” Nah, Iwanski would never do that. He HATES that song, for some reason. (So when it comes on the radio, I usually turn it up extra loud and sing along at the top of my lungs. Muhahahhahaha…)<br /><br />I, on the other hand, like pretty much every Christmas song—except for maybe that stupid “Santa Baby” song. Ugh! They overplay that song like crazy during the holidays—and I find it annoying as hell. “Come and trim my Christmas tree with some decorations bought at Tiffany's”?? Gimme a break!<br /><br />But other than that, I love Christmas music of all kinds. I grew up in a very musical family, and for many years when I was growing up, we would all gather around the piano and sing Christmas songs together. It was very Norman Rockwell’ish.<br /><br />When I was little, some of those songs would make me laugh and giggle and squeal with delight. Other songs would make me cry. Like Silent Night. When I was really little, I could hardly ever listen to Silent Night without bawling my eyes out. Sometimes I still get a little teary-eyed when I hear that song.<br /><br />But the song that I loved the most as a little one was always Jingle Bells. Only I didn’t call it Jingle Bells. According to my older siblings (even though I don’t remember this), I would always call it “Gingha-ho Funny!”<br /><br />Why Gingha-ho Funny? I have absolutely no idea. But it makes me laugh to think of my wee little self calling it that.<br /><br />A couple of days ago on Facebook, my sister Sheri’s status told about my little 3-year-old niecey Nora Lu’s favorite Christmas song. Sheri wrote:<br /><br /><em>Nora's favorite song EVER! We've been playing/singing/dancing to "Jingle Bells" nearly every day for over a year. Last summer, her daycare teachers laughed over her continual request that they play the song during "music time."<br /></em><br />Now, Nora Lu loves her Aunt Healthypants, but she’s extremely fond of my husband. Whenever we are coming to visit, she’s always more excited to see—as she calls him—“Jahhhhhhn”—than to see her Auntie. Iwanski and Nora Lu just have a special connection (which I have to admit, is adorable).<br /><br />So anyway, I was tickled pink to hear that little Nora Lu shares at least something with her Auntie Carla, in that she loves “Ginga-ho Funny,” too.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDfqyb7gi9_noHSJbZFpmyPiuf_T7FdEj0HazK_BgcCbIQyAFfbDMT13UyvJW5JFk6-l9iC2uTBmhXmVUTvxNYr1eAJoKJBzf8-M0PKERQgxcgfXbFI1EI3DuhRjR29x8-_KT1M0l2ki55/s1600/nora+lu.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545931397322101234" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDfqyb7gi9_noHSJbZFpmyPiuf_T7FdEj0HazK_BgcCbIQyAFfbDMT13UyvJW5JFk6-l9iC2uTBmhXmVUTvxNYr1eAJoKJBzf8-M0PKERQgxcgfXbFI1EI3DuhRjR29x8-_KT1M0l2ki55/s400/nora+lu.JPG" /></a> <em>Nora Lu striking a pose</em>Miss Healthypantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02388211920649065327noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575484387153820810.post-64880766356155693722010-11-26T21:52:00.008-06:002010-11-26T22:00:41.007-06:00Thanksgiving SurprisesI shouldn’t be surprised, really. Thanksgiving dinner with my family never fails to disappoint, neither in deliciousness nor in laughter. <br /><br />I love that I come from a family that laughs easily and often…not to mention that knows how to cook! <br /><br />On the menu were many tasty eats, including turkey, ham, stuffing, mashed potatoes, cranberries, corn, green bean casserole, cornbread stuffing, cheesy hash-brown potatoes, and other delicious items…including five pies! My sister Mary got a little carried away when baking and ended up making pumpkin pie, pumpkin cheesecake pie, chocolate turtle pie, apple pie, and apple pie with crumb topping. YUMMY! <br /><br />The plethora of pies soon led my sister Sheri to declare the holiday “Cinco de Pie-o!” We all had a good laugh over that one. (Here are pictures of the pies, doing their pie thing—I didn’t think to take the picture until after my family had already enjoyed several pieces!)<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4tDWV_-B3Ry_rdDrosfZW2LNmqRrvHhnW1wLtvmwxbuGXRFedJELvNRzjy4ywofvS9f35D45DQIwO7gzuQfM8ytdSB2LAQchMV_Q0dcEsf_YCUehtLBjNtmFgnDJ0XgOO-eTk0788O3RR/s1600/pies.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4tDWV_-B3Ry_rdDrosfZW2LNmqRrvHhnW1wLtvmwxbuGXRFedJELvNRzjy4ywofvS9f35D45DQIwO7gzuQfM8ytdSB2LAQchMV_Q0dcEsf_YCUehtLBjNtmFgnDJ0XgOO-eTk0788O3RR/s400/pies.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544072763454862066" /></a><br /><br />But before we got to the pie, there were several other Thanksgiving tasties to partake of. And since there were something like 28 of us present at the dinner, my parents had set up a buffet station where we soon lined up to get our fill of Thanksgiving tasties. As Iwanski and I were standing and waiting in line for our turn, I said, “I feel like I’m in line for communion at church.”* <br /><br />Then Iwanski said, “Body of turkey…”<br /><br />To which I replied “Yum yum” (in the same tone as the Amen given when receiving Communion at church).<br /><br />My sister Bonnie had a good laugh over that one. <br /><br />Then, as I started piling my plate with the Turkey Day goodies, I made a split-second decision. For the first time in SEVERAL years, I was going to try the mashed potatoes.<br /><br />Now mind you, this is a big deal for me. It’s a widely-known fact in my family that I have hated mashed potatoes, ever since my Dad forced me to try them when I was a baby. I’ve been told that I said to my Dad, “If you make me eat them, I’ll throw up”—and then after he fed them to me, I actually threw up right there at the dinner table—but I don’t remember that part. All I know is, both the texture and the “blah” taste of mashed potatoes have always triggered my gag reflex. <br /><br />So what prompted me to try them this time? Well, my Mom had shared with me the recipe for this year’s mashed potatoes, which included my favorite food of all time—cream cheese. <br /><br />I have a really hard time resisting anything with cream cheese—or any kind of cheese—in it. In fact, I told Iwanski this weekend that instead of a sweet tooth, I have a “cheese tooth.” (To which he replied, “You have a whole mouth full of cheese teeth.”) And you know what?—he’s so right. <br /><br />So I tried the mashed potatoes…and whatta you know, I didn’t throw up! On the contrary, I really liked them…which prompted me to declare loudly:<br /><br />“I like these mashed potatoes!”<br /><br />Immediately, one of my sisters called for everyone’s attention. As everyone suddenly became silent, she announced, “Did everyone hear that? Carla actually said she likes mashed potatoes!” <br /><br />Several people cheered and laughed. I guess there’s a first time for everything. <br /><br />In addition to the potatoes and all the other goodies previously mentioned, my Mom also made these little “turkey cupcakes,” which I thought were really cute. <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSmbdj1PaYhJ4Oeday7ROZnuJ-6UjJT51toJaiFkwecni4Q7O_0DTZlZnhucL8UJK0fLy9tfdQhaqHcxZDWuCCm-G9eN2P4nz6QGK9-rQh0ubpz6U9UAzVtLLAq8hYIkieAteIg_H0fMoA/s1600/turkey+cupcakes.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSmbdj1PaYhJ4Oeday7ROZnuJ-6UjJT51toJaiFkwecni4Q7O_0DTZlZnhucL8UJK0fLy9tfdQhaqHcxZDWuCCm-G9eN2P4nz6QGK9-rQh0ubpz6U9UAzVtLLAq8hYIkieAteIg_H0fMoA/s400/turkey+cupcakes.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544073287377615986" /></a><br /><br />I especially like the way they’re “looking up at the camera” in this picture. To me, they look a little confused.<br /><br />Unfortunately, many of their candy corn “body parts” were falling off of them, so Iwanski started calling them “leprosy turkeys.”<br /><br />My brother-in-law Rick said that they were “molting.” <br /><br />The whole thing just made me laugh. <br /><br />Later, I got a silly idea in my head. Some of you may remember last year, when I <a href="http://misshealthypants.blogspot.com/2009/12/santa-hat-silliness.html">decided to take a picture of each of my family members wearing a tiny Santa hat</a>. Well, a couple of months ago, my sister Cindy broke her right leg and ankle (and sprained her other ankle—poor girl!). So she’s got a cast on her right leg and foot. And so suddenly I decided that I needed to take a picture of her foot with the little Santa hat on it. So that’s exactly what I did.<br /><br />Here’s Cindy with the Santa hat on her foot.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguejCEIDoq-fv_Auaaan-uycR9ytiz7AZWSUrsE7kxTgC2bte_ZpSSLFG-k6rm1bxHP5SS4XZwv838b4R7Fcegvho-DWaqooilw4ZkMwTBndcfhk9M4iAysLs7L34eAktTO9GhML-BDmn6/s1600/cindy+toe+santa+hat.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 387px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguejCEIDoq-fv_Auaaan-uycR9ytiz7AZWSUrsE7kxTgC2bte_ZpSSLFG-k6rm1bxHP5SS4XZwv838b4R7Fcegvho-DWaqooilw4ZkMwTBndcfhk9M4iAysLs7L34eAktTO9GhML-BDmn6/s400/cindy+toe+santa+hat.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544073809666279506" /></a><br /><br />And here’s a close-up of her “Santa foot.” <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyQiv9W4x6N0Git069oZi4WXl3Ow-TsDrLLEqu8j7khdAol2dy0Hf7zH4JM6hVEjC6V6nxUw2Hq5i4-MdXsQBoEg_7ZHrXNJzJ2Bgla4LK3T6MJacnjH4cTkbQSZx64vxKhbY1BuehsbqD/s1600/toe+santa+hat+close-up.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyQiv9W4x6N0Git069oZi4WXl3Ow-TsDrLLEqu8j7khdAol2dy0Hf7zH4JM6hVEjC6V6nxUw2Hq5i4-MdXsQBoEg_7ZHrXNJzJ2Bgla4LK3T6MJacnjH4cTkbQSZx64vxKhbY1BuehsbqD/s400/toe+santa+hat+close-up.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544074056380108482" /></a><br /><br />We all got a good laugh out of that one. <br /><br />I’m so grateful and happy that I’m from a family that shares my same silly sense of humor. <br /><br /><br /><br /><em>*If you don’t understand this joke, ask a Catholic to explain it to you. :)</em>Miss Healthypantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02388211920649065327noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575484387153820810.post-47948985102201529422010-11-22T20:28:00.002-06:002010-11-22T22:48:13.233-06:00Hilarity with the IwanskisI am a very happy camper right now. <br /><br />This past weekend was just wonderful, and I’m excited about the upcoming holiday, as well. We’re traveling up to ‘Scansin for Turkey Day with my family, and I’m looking forward to seeing everyone and soaking up the loud craziness that is a Fochs family holiday. <br /><br />This past Saturday, I woke up early and went to a free yoga class at the local Lululemon store (a crazy-expensive athletic clothing store that can certainly afford to offer a free weekly yoga class). The instructor this week was from the Chicago School of Hot Yoga, and it was fantabulous. Halfway through the class, my heart was pounding, and I felt sweat dripping from my forehead onto my yoga mat. Now that’s what I call a good class! <br /><br />After class, I high-tailed it home (with a quick stop for some Healthypants items at the grocery store), jumped in the shower, and then hopped on a train bound for Oak Lawn (the Southwest suburb where Iwanski grew up). We arrived at my mother-in-law’s house at around 2 PM or so and joined Iwanski’s family for a yum-tastic birthday celebration and dinner, commemorating the November birthdays of Iwanski, his sister Anna, and his brother-in-law Tony. There were lots of Miss Healthypants favorites at the dinner, including sweet potatoes, creamed spinach, and 7-layer salad (mmmm…7-layer salad…). And then there was pie…mmmm…pie…. Iwanski’s family really knows how to do dessert, and there were four different desserts to choose from: Pumpkin pie, some kind-of chocolatey turtle pie, blueberry pie, and chocolate cake. (I myself opted for a slice of the turtle pie and a slice of warm blueberry pie with vanilla ice cream…oh my Lord, I think that is my favorite dessert ever!) <br /><br />But the absolute best part of the evening was when we were all sitting around after the birthday gift opening, and Iwanski’s 10-year-old nephew Jarun started talking about possible nicknames for himself. <br /><br />“Some of the kids at school call me Jare-Bear,” he remarked. “I’m not sure if that’s good or not. How about Care Bear?”<br /><br />“No, trust me Jarun, you do not want people to call you Care Bear,” Iwanski replied. <br /><br />“How about Jayr-onimo?” He asked. We all giggled. <br /><br />“Or how about just Jayr, like Cher?” He was on a roll now. <br /><br />This went on for a good 15 minutes before he said, “How about just Jarun Seinfeld?” <br /><br />His 16-year-old brother T.J. snorted. “Geez, Jarun, then you might as well be Jarlie Sheen. Or Jadonna. Or Jraiser Crane. Or…..Jon Cryer.” <br /><br />We all cracked up. “Or……Jon Cryer.” T.J. delivered that line so well; it was hilarious. <br /><br />Then Jarun came up with his best/worst one of the night. “How about Jarun Lube (like Jiffy Lube)?” <br /><br />We were all laughing our asses off. “No, no, no…” T.J. laughed. “You don’t want people to call you Jarun Lube!” <br /><br />“I think we’re done with this now,” his Mom added. <br /><br />I was laughing so hard that tears were rolling down my cheeks. It was one of those simply hilarious moments. <br /><br />Everyone in Iwanski’s family has a great sense of humor, and I’m so grateful for that. They are also all kind and generous people. I’m telling you, when it comes to in-laws, I really hit the jackpot. <br /><br />Now, very soon, Iwanski and I will be off to see my crazy, fun family. I’m sure I’ll come back to Chi-town with many more funny family memories.Miss Healthypantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02388211920649065327noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575484387153820810.post-74663758996764151982010-11-17T20:48:00.007-06:002010-11-17T20:53:15.349-06:00A Marble Rye and Cinnamon Babka, But How About Brownies?Iwanski and I have just spent the past twenty minutes naming food and drink items that are mentioned in the show “Seinfeld.” <br /><br />Why are we doing this, you ask?<br /><br />Because it’s fun. <br /><br />At least to us it is. <br /><br />It all started tonight after we watched the Seinfeld episode entitled “The Pez Dispenser,” a hilarious episode where Jerry puts a Tweety Bird Pez dispenser on Elaine’s leg during George’s girlfriend’s serious piano recital. Well, of course, Elaine starts laughing her ass off in the middle of the recital, which brings about many fun plot twists. And all because of Pez.<br /><br />After watching it, Iwanski remarked, “Food really plays a big role in Seinfeld episodes.” I agreed, and then pondered aloud, “I wonder if they ever mention brownies on Seinfeld?” <br /><br />So just for fun, we started naming all the food items we could think of that are in Seinfeld episodes…which was a surprising number of them—probably like a hundred or more. <br /><br />But still no brownies.<br /><br />Then Iwanski had a thought, “Wait, what about the episode where Elaine makes something in that Easy Bake Oven? Didn’t she make brownies?” <br /><br />Immediately, I jumped on the interwebs and Googled it. But alas, it was not to be. Elaine made cupcakes in the Easy Bake Oven (from batter that "is like, 30 years old"), not brownies. Damn. <br /><br />But apparently (according to many links on Google), Jerry Seinfeld’s wife has this amazing brownie recipe that has—get this—spinach and carrots in it. Who knew? Sounds strange, but I saw lots of positive reviews of the recipe online.<br /><br />So now I might have to make the brownies. Since we can’t figure out a Seinfeld episode with brownies in it, Mrs. Seinfeld’s brownies will have to be our consolation prize.Miss Healthypantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02388211920649065327noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575484387153820810.post-64888057678149591542010-11-14T21:23:00.005-06:002010-11-14T21:28:32.741-06:00Flying and StumblingRecently, I was tagged in a meme on Facebook called “15 Scribblers.” <br /><br />Here were the rules:<br /><br />Don't take too long to think about it. List fifteen authors (poets included) who've influenced you and that will always stick with you. List the first fifteen you can recall in no more than fifteen minutes. <br /><br />Well, I thought, what the heck, I can do that. <br /><br />But after listing like six authors, I thought, “What the hell do I read besides blogs these days?” It turns out, not much. <br /><br />Actually, it’s not that I don’t read books—it’s just that I rarely read the same author twice (with only a few exceptions). So to name my “favorite authors” seems like a bit of a stretch when I’ve only read one book by most of my “favorite” authors. It would probably be easier to just name my favorite books. <br /><br />So then I started wondering…what was my favorite book was when I was a kid? And what has my favorite book been as an adult (so far)? And what do my “favorites” reveal about who I am? <br /><br />My childhood choice for favorite book was surprisingly easy to think of. To be sure, I had many favorites—the Little House books and the Anne of Green Gables books, to name just a few. But my absolute favorite book as a kid—and one that I still own and even still re-read on occasion—is a book called “No Flying in the House” by Betty Brock. (I think it’s one of my sister Sheri’s favorite childhood books, too.) <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Gv0sTiIVi9fLPVHlC0ZvH6D6MPttMfHYkVGcQ6ttEhrbhTsnhA7ZoDRu9ktlluc8qMLdFY7hkcC-k9SdGaLbgQ8wvsvnAvYiYqVKXBYbAQFGN7brZs0LlBt9vnrn-O7EQXEMLTwxvelD/s1600/no+flying.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Gv0sTiIVi9fLPVHlC0ZvH6D6MPttMfHYkVGcQ6ttEhrbhTsnhA7ZoDRu9ktlluc8qMLdFY7hkcC-k9SdGaLbgQ8wvsvnAvYiYqVKXBYbAQFGN7brZs0LlBt9vnrn-O7EQXEMLTwxvelD/s400/no+flying.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539612369370880626" /></a><br /><br />Why was it my favorite? Well, first of all, what a great title, right? “No Flying in the House.” Doesn’t that title just get your childhood imagination going? <br /><br />And then you have a sweet blonde-haired little girl named Annabel as your main character, a tiny, intelligent talking dog named Gloria that accompanies her wherever she goes and takes care of her, a kindly old woman who lives by herself and allows Annabel and Gloria to stay with her, and a miniature gold cat toy with emerald eyes who comes to life on occasion and tells Annabel that she’s really a fairy and can fly…and you have all the ingredients for a magical story. <br /><br />When I was eight years old, I was enthralled with this book. Heck, I still am! The mystery of Annabel and where she came from and why she has a talking dog and why a mean-spirited toy cat keeps coming to life and telling her she’s a fairy…well, it’s just such a fun, magical story. And when I was little, I couldn’t imagine anything more exciting than being able to fly around the house. What fun! <br /><br />So I guess what my childhood favorite book reveals about me is that I love a great story—especially one involving mystery and magic. Even now, I love to hear stories about amazing “coincidences”—which I like to think of as life’s little miracles. I still like to believe that magic exists and that magical moments can happen in everyday life. <br /><br />As for my favorite book as an adult, I think it has to be the book “Stumbling Toward Enlightenment” by Geri Larkin. I love this book and have read it at least a half a dozen times. In this book, the author tells the delightful story of her growth from a stressed out, harried, unhappy businesswoman with an extremely annoying eye twitch that won’t go away…to a calm, happy, kind Buddhist meditator…but not without many “stumbles” along the way. What I love about her story is that she’s certainly not perfect—and she struggles with the exact same emotions and ego that we all do—but she persists, in spite of her very human imperfections, to try to be a kinder, calmer, happier person. And I very much admire that. <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3RhO0Z4JPmaOwJwKrpiVw6FGYWX9O16qxh-RXyOlaVZ7tt0IHkJDnXab2wDFFEaXAkt8hzuTtJ5w8HkEse06kNdlJ6p1J2sOBN3RGogEZgnE6rhnVsEolDyI6vwVCxsxySsEHPyxRSSud/s1600/stumbling.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3RhO0Z4JPmaOwJwKrpiVw6FGYWX9O16qxh-RXyOlaVZ7tt0IHkJDnXab2wDFFEaXAkt8hzuTtJ5w8HkEse06kNdlJ6p1J2sOBN3RGogEZgnE6rhnVsEolDyI6vwVCxsxySsEHPyxRSSud/s400/stumbling.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539612639740654002" /></a><br /><br />I also love her story because it’s so very funny at times—so funny that I’ve laughed aloud at several points in the book. My favorite story that she tells is about a time when she is invited on a cross-country ski weekend with some friends in Ann Arbor, Michigan. When she is packing for the trip, she thinks to herself that since she doesn’t know these people very well, she probably should steer clear of any topic involving Buddhism or religion or meditation. What she doesn’t think of is packing her swimsuit. (Who thinks about packing a swimsuit when you’re heading for a ski trip?) <br /><br />So later that night, her friends ask her to join them in the hot tub of the hotel they’re staying at. Instead of just admitting that she forgot to bring her swimsuit, she goes to the front desk of the hotel to ask if they have any for sale. Well, all they have are these plastic-coated paper bathing suits—so she thinks what the heck, I’ll try one. OK…you might be starting to get the picture. First of all, with the paper swimsuit on, she says she looks like “a Chinese lantern in human form.” Then, once she sits down in the hot tub and starts gossiping with her friends, wouldn’t you know it? The suit starts deteriorating. So when she stands up later to get up out of the hot tub, one friend pulls her down and whispers “Your butt’s gone.” Sure enough, she has no more backside to her swimsuit. It’s completely gone. So she makes everyone look away from her while she backs out of the hot tub and runs back to her hotel room. <br /><br />The lesson of this hilarious experience? She could have asked one of her friends for help instead of trying to figure it out on her own, but her ego and her desire to be liked by her friends gave her a very embarrassing moment instead. Of course, it also gave her a very funny story to tell, but the point is, sometimes our ego gets in the way of our better judgment. <br /><br />So I guess my choice for my favorite book as an adult also reveals that I love a good story—especially one told with lots of humor—and especially one where someone becomes a better person—albeit with some struggles along the way. This is the same reason that I love the shows “Supernanny” and “The Dog Whisperer”—because no matter how much the parents (or dog owners) struggle along the way, there is always a happy ending…or should I say “a happy work in progress”? <br /><br />That is essentially my view of life—it’s a happy work in progress, and even though we sometimes struggle, there are still so many beautiful—and magical—moments of life that keep us going.Miss Healthypantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02388211920649065327noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575484387153820810.post-46895730605839639432010-11-12T00:00:00.000-06:002010-11-12T00:00:02.872-06:00Happy Birthday to My Favorite!!Happy Birthday to my very favorite…the best husband a girl could ever ask for…the one who makes me laugh every single day…<br /><br />The guy that I affectionately refer to as “Iwanski.” <br /><br />I love you so much, honey! I hope that you have the happiest birthday ever. <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-fg-MDh1fxyWXigSKDZK6K4ayLV1UDM3XEP1XMKl45CpBypiuS7CVMDajYyjGM_dJsbQUNBwfh5IoPHFGlucN4WoiiFtDQ8eYZJxTyq3PGmUqeoLd6lyIQbqZrVHH9EjDAJwWCt5HZkhe/s1600/john+silly.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-fg-MDh1fxyWXigSKDZK6K4ayLV1UDM3XEP1XMKl45CpBypiuS7CVMDajYyjGM_dJsbQUNBwfh5IoPHFGlucN4WoiiFtDQ8eYZJxTyq3PGmUqeoLd6lyIQbqZrVHH9EjDAJwWCt5HZkhe/s400/john+silly.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538439981453181554" /></a>Miss Healthypantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02388211920649065327noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575484387153820810.post-32202533201891069682010-11-08T21:12:00.013-06:002010-11-08T21:29:11.236-06:00They’ve Stuck With MeThe other day I was looking around my living room, and I started wondering…<br /><br />What is the one object in my home (besides a photo album) that I have owned for longer than any other possession?<br /><br />After thinking about it for a few minutes, I realized that for me, it’s my grade-school sticker album! <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-R0vvywZoj9S3NsqbrtP1Q3DqBwWO7J7nKbutaJzF14Mv8EGgV9j6SMln7IqOieMkyXBq5ccGUuH5EiGYEWn_M443ZC0oPt_655Eje03S3n2i4S5TT7kz9gwSEDAbUmrSZe7Jmw099_qo/s1600/stickers1.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-R0vvywZoj9S3NsqbrtP1Q3DqBwWO7J7nKbutaJzF14Mv8EGgV9j6SMln7IqOieMkyXBq5ccGUuH5EiGYEWn_M443ZC0oPt_655Eje03S3n2i4S5TT7kz9gwSEDAbUmrSZe7Jmw099_qo/s400/stickers1.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537383570856504658" /></a><br /><br />Sometimes I can’t believe that I’ve kept this thing. Like so many of my fellow female classmates, I was REALLY into stickers for a while. It was one of the big fads of the early 80’s. I actually had two sticker albums, both of which I dug out of an old box. And sitting here tonight, looking them over with Iwanski, was a fun trip down memory lane…<br /><br />These “Wacky Packages” stickers in the middle of this page were some of my favorite stickers. I still laugh at the description on the bottle of “Drowny”—“Makes enough suds to flood the Empire State Building…You’ll never concentrate again.” Tee hee!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq4REdh_hY35vBBl6yboOokiUdaAf8D3LlWOsd_yPvmtg-eyjxNpM_cytg58Lb_C7PKM7Pz5mCmT38W-Becs8EUnfzoV4gzEYhr0PhbMTBvs5gH7LRMZFcYeZK5qTpviOIvwKy85r4GyKY/s1600/stickers2.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq4REdh_hY35vBBl6yboOokiUdaAf8D3LlWOsd_yPvmtg-eyjxNpM_cytg58Lb_C7PKM7Pz5mCmT38W-Becs8EUnfzoV4gzEYhr0PhbMTBvs5gH7LRMZFcYeZK5qTpviOIvwKy85r4GyKY/s400/stickers2.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537383841286143922" /></a><br /><br />I really got into the “scratch & sniff” stickers for a while. And surprisingly, I tried scratching some of them tonight, and some of them still have a smell! My favorite “smelly stickers” were always banana and watermelon. (Can you tell? They look a little worse for the wear.) <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRYGda9mSResYJ5bI5quU9tqviXfX0ouz7KKXzdRm0p5DnBQQM_HL64z8UeXvjA38BgzYbRgE5kMmIVhh527mWyImkkUYbJnjaPIV75qEsWDoWj2fI3pBSepmu4D3Ku33Grsf70gHFTUHj/s1600/stickers3.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRYGda9mSResYJ5bI5quU9tqviXfX0ouz7KKXzdRm0p5DnBQQM_HL64z8UeXvjA38BgzYbRgE5kMmIVhh527mWyImkkUYbJnjaPIV75qEsWDoWj2fI3pBSepmu4D3Ku33Grsf70gHFTUHj/s400/stickers3.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537384113502758130" /></a><br /><br />I was not really that into the Cubs or Mr. T, but Iwanski said that I had these stickers because somehow, I knew I’d meet him someday. (Iwanski pities the fool who don’t like the Cubs or Mr. T.) <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8DHLJhEfYMa4qd6gqNOS477SMc5BBdAYBmHQDkK9CMPMEu0JmbuRGuZAm888nesmETDCVtvOOVIrRt90Qcbefr-06GByOkRRL5SddJfzCtCSfBTKYWEccpbVSFy4Y_AyOHwcE2DBx_N4d/s1600/stickers4.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 294px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8DHLJhEfYMa4qd6gqNOS477SMc5BBdAYBmHQDkK9CMPMEu0JmbuRGuZAm888nesmETDCVtvOOVIrRt90Qcbefr-06GByOkRRL5SddJfzCtCSfBTKYWEccpbVSFy4Y_AyOHwcE2DBx_N4d/s400/stickers4.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537384436526621602" /></a><br /><br />My sister Holly went to Germany when she was in high school (as a foreign exchange student), and she brought me back these stickers. I remember being SO excited to have German stickers. (By the way, the literal translation of “Wir fahren wieder Rad” is “We drive again wheel.” German is a funny language!) <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1DmTTIU70XvDyqqs2NNwjFSlP7t3UGH2pwpjRD3MT5Pay4u7OHWvwmeGdUOrEwTDBlTK9LGMz3UCj9cSGim7KMbZxzb4jQ3nSqQOfE0wW2Pli_nZnjemDNur-McNdhzE_h87SfWHKCirM/s1600/stickers5.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1DmTTIU70XvDyqqs2NNwjFSlP7t3UGH2pwpjRD3MT5Pay4u7OHWvwmeGdUOrEwTDBlTK9LGMz3UCj9cSGim7KMbZxzb4jQ3nSqQOfE0wW2Pli_nZnjemDNur-McNdhzE_h87SfWHKCirM/s400/stickers5.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537384735381292738" /></a><br /><br />And then there was my unicorn phase…for some reason, I was really into unicorns for a while. I had a huge collection of them…I wonder whatever happened to all those unicorns? Well, I know what happened to the stickers at least!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjcbm60uT3XdNFN6k6H_OfTXG2maob4CDIyj9TTBXtEwNkfkoZEdW8lg-p7aJp_fdcUVRs26Ij4uXOyUiA4HwdENeCRD-58hTMt_k5vTpQLQbNSIoKCwEZsg2rmS64S79QdAtDDVqEebKy/s1600/stickers6.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjcbm60uT3XdNFN6k6H_OfTXG2maob4CDIyj9TTBXtEwNkfkoZEdW8lg-p7aJp_fdcUVRs26Ij4uXOyUiA4HwdENeCRD-58hTMt_k5vTpQLQbNSIoKCwEZsg2rmS64S79QdAtDDVqEebKy/s400/stickers6.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537385136098544690" /></a><br /><br />So there you go…a glimpse into Miss Healthypants’ younger years. <br /><br />So how about you? What is the one object in your home (besides a photo album) that you’ve owned for longer than any other possession?Miss Healthypantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02388211920649065327noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575484387153820810.post-90116085416204171072010-11-06T21:45:00.004-05:002010-11-06T21:51:38.721-05:00Wooo! Friday!<p><strong>FRIDAY</strong></p><p>5:00 PM – Shut down my work computer and practically clicked my heels as I exited the building.<br /><br />5:30 PM - Met some coworkers/friends in the bar at a Chinese restaurant and ordered a beer.<br /><br />6:00 PM – Tried sake for the first time. Decided that I like sake, but not enough to drink it very often.<br /><br />6:30 PM – Ordered another beer.<br /><br />7:00 PM – Was presented with a menu full of very delicious-sounding Chinese food.<br /><br />7:05 PM – Was asked if I like “Dynamite Shrimp.” Replied, “Yes.” (Even though I had no idea what Dynamite Shrimp was.)<br /><br />7:20 PM – Enjoyed Chinese Chicken Lettuce Wraps, Salt and Pepper Prawns, Vegetarian Fried Rice, and of course, Dynamite Shrimp. (It was pretty good, but not quite as dynamite as I had hoped it would be.)<br /><br />7:45 PM – Ordered another beer, enjoyed another glass of sake.<br /><br />8:00 PM – Began preaching about the benefits of yoga to a female coworker with back problems.<br /><br />8:15 PM - Apologized to my coworker about being a yoga missionary.<br /><br />9:00 PM – Ordered another beer.<br /><br />10:30 PM – Feeling pretty drunk. Was surprised and a little saddened to see several coworkers/friends leave to go home. Was also surprised to see that it was already 10:30 PM.<br /><br />11:00 PM – Walked to a nearby karaoke bar with the two friends that were still up for partying.<br /><br />11:15 PM – Ordered another beer.<br /><br />11:30 PM - Ate sub-par nachos. Wondered how they had the nerve to call them nachos when the cheese wasn’t even melted.<br /><br />12:00 AM – Enjoyed my friend Jonathan singing “I Think I Love You” to a lively crowd.<br /><br />12:15 AM –Had fun singing “I Love This Bar” to the still-lively crowd. Thought I sounded pretty good.<br /><br />12:30 AM – Joined the crowd in crooning “It Must Have Been Love” along with another karaoke singer.<br /><br />1:00 AM – Left the bar, said goodbye to one friend, and stopped at 7-Eleven with Jonathan.<br /><br />1:10 AM - Left the 7-Eleven with peanut butter cookies and a big can of Bud Light for myself, and a giant beef stick for Iwanski.<br /><br />1:15 AM – Hung out at Jonathan’s apartment and enjoyed fun conversation – as well as popcorn, peanut butter cookies, and Bud Light.<br /><br />1:45 AM – Suddenly realized that I was extremely tired.<br /><br />2:00 AM – Arrived home and instantly fell asleep.<br /><br /><br /><strong>SATURDAY</strong><br /><br />8:00 AM – Woke up with a splitting headache. Took some ibuprofen and went back to bed.<br /><br />11:00 AM – Woke up again and realized that my head still hurt. Decided to get up and make smoothies for Iwanski and me. Hoped that a smoothie would make me feel better.<br /><br />11:30 AM – Watched the video of me singing karaoke the night before (that Jonathan had e-mailed to me), and realized that I hadn’t sounded nearly as good as I thought I did. Laughed about it with Iwanski.<br /><br />12:00 PM – Took a hot bath. Started to feel more like a human being again.</p>Miss Healthypantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02388211920649065327noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575484387153820810.post-57780000195339094962010-11-01T21:09:00.007-05:002010-11-01T21:13:01.393-05:00Still Going WildWhen I was in seventh grade, I entered a short story contest and wrote a children’s story called “The Night the Bubble Machine Went Wild.” <br /><br />It was a story about three kids who are very excited to find out about a bubble machine that made all shapes of bubbles—even square and triangular bubbles! (Hey, I didn’t say it was a realistic story.) Anyway, even though they’ve been warned not to touch the machine without adult supervision, the kids sneak into the bubble machine “laboratory” late at night and start playing with the contraption. A short time later, the machine—as you might expect—goes wild!—and starts producing mass amounts of bubbles. Luckily, the kids get rescued before they drown in bubbles…and so, of course, they learn a valuable lesson about listening to their parents and about not touching powerful machines without adult supervision. <br /><br />Hmm, as I write about it here, it seems pretty silly.<br /><br />But what the hell, I still won the contest! And I was sooo excited. I had a local newspaper reporter come to interview me, and he wrote a story about me…I even got my picture in the paper! (This was a huge deal to a very nerdy, awkward teenage girl in the little bitty town of Hilbert, Wisconsin.) <br /><br />So are you wondering if I actually won anything—money or some other kind of prize? I think I won a trophy of some sort, but that’s about it. <br /><br />However, that’s when my 7th grade Social Studies teacher (who made up nicknames for every person in my class) started calling me “Million Dollar Carla” (pronounced like “Million Dollah Cahlah”)…and I was thrilled to be given the extra attention. He declared in front of the whole class that someday I would make a million dollars…oh, if only!!<br /><br />Anyway, so the other day, Iwanski and I were walking on Clark Street on Chicago’s north side, and suddenly, right in front of us, I saw it! A real bubble machine! <br /><br />Iwanski took out his camera to take a picture of the bubbles, and I jumped right in front to get my picture taken with it. I just couldn’t resist. <br /><br />It seemed to me that the bubble machine was going wild, and I wanted to hang out right next to it. And totally without any adult supervision. <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjty4nvnBDB6SqFc02J8pwejbUqd5t9oiQzvjS98A7O29wEsFbTK-bANK-dg3LM0P2CSZY4Rlr3kLFj0k7JQdTgDzjojr1vm2sMpr7_kNwaIhPUi9EJVUqd7QEhn5ZhDQt3sO2XcFfjADpv/s1600/BUBBLE+MACHINE+MHP.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjty4nvnBDB6SqFc02J8pwejbUqd5t9oiQzvjS98A7O29wEsFbTK-bANK-dg3LM0P2CSZY4Rlr3kLFj0k7JQdTgDzjojr1vm2sMpr7_kNwaIhPUi9EJVUqd7QEhn5ZhDQt3sO2XcFfjADpv/s400/BUBBLE+MACHINE+MHP.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534769008039179202" /></a>Miss Healthypantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02388211920649065327noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3575484387153820810.post-61477169413302311622010-10-29T18:54:00.001-05:002010-10-29T18:56:16.631-05:00It's Friday...Put on your party hat!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggW2863fRXmse8Vyr7pSlqMMn7NOvar9D8wWKSYxzuP_5dz97dPP3qx8cFSF06Oozttxi5C24BH3ajuLoMxEhs4ERmX_tXmaCjSYG7QBp-_4jTnJdQSREakER_oUBaMfQsvIyE7EY3zMMe/s1600/cat+hat.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 373px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggW2863fRXmse8Vyr7pSlqMMn7NOvar9D8wWKSYxzuP_5dz97dPP3qx8cFSF06Oozttxi5C24BH3ajuLoMxEhs4ERmX_tXmaCjSYG7QBp-_4jTnJdQSREakER_oUBaMfQsvIyE7EY3zMMe/s400/cat+hat.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533621046402030898" /></a>Miss Healthypantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02388211920649065327noreply@blogger.com3