"i'll have a booze, booze christmas."

my family has been known to enjoy our booze from time to time. there have been entire vermont family reunions that are lost to my memory all because of my aunt's vodka slush. it starts with a large plastic bucket (because we like to keep it classy) into which you toss some frozen lemonade, some coco lopez, some pineapple juice, and then as much vodka as you can fit into the container. plop this into your freezer and once it's frozen and slushy, scoop some into a glass and top it off with sprite or 7up… you know, to "cut the sweetness". nothing is better on a hot summer day than burying your face in frosty glass of vodka slush.


christmas bit me in the ass.

The pressure that is put upon us during the holiday season is stunning. I used to love Christmas. I would host a cocktail party or two, and then attend a cocktail party (or four). I would savor my shopping experiences by strolling leisurely through any number of malls while sipping a peppermint mocha, purchasing only the most heart-felt of presents which I would take my sweet, delicate time wrapping in the prettiest of papers and curviest of bows. Come Christmas day, my only worries were what I would drink before noon as I noshed and sloshed my way through the holiday. I would then get to sit down to a fabulous meal crafted by my mother, my only concerns being if the red wine I picked out would complement the meal, and if my Parker House Rolls had properly risen.

But now that I’m a mom? I’m expected to bake at least four or five different varieties of sweet Christmas goodies and cookies; decorate my house; pick out and then trim a tree; buy and wrap presents; take the kids to a tree farm, to a Christmas parade, to the mall to see Santa… all the while keeping a holiday-spirit-has-snuck-up-and-bit-me-in-the-ass-and-I’m-LOVIN’-it smile on my face (shortened henceforth as Christmas Bit Me in the Ass, or CBMA) to set a good example for my children and make lasting happy memories for them, proving that the generous and merry spirit that is in the air at Christmastime is what makes it all possible.


always wear your underpants (or, viral meningitis part II)

my apologies that it has taken me over a month to compose myself enough to write part two. (if you would like to hear all about part one of my meningitis saga, please click here. thank you, kindly.)
now, where were we? oh yes. i had been medically discharged from work by the onsite doctor at headquarters, and told to go to the emergency room with the words “i think you may have meningitis…”. upon hearing those words, i imagined myself touching the face of god Herself (i.e., dying) and decided that if this was the last time i’d be at my desk, i should probably tidy up a bit. i threw away a 2-day old yogurt cup sitting on my desk, and crossed off at least half of the items on my “to do” list.


viral meningitis, part I

it was monday, october 31st. amongst the chaos of getting my twin toddlers ready for trick 'o treating, i was battling what i will refer to as an epic headache. i had been sick with what i thought was the flu the week prior, but over the weekend had rallied and was feeling pretty good. i was even able to go out for a little 3 mile run on sunday and although my body felt weak, i felt amazing for just getting over a 102.5 temp on wednesday, thursday and friday. but by monday night, the epic headache had descended upon me with a vengeance.


breaking the rules.

when in the midst of sleep training twin toddlers and wanting to do it right, it's good to sometimes forget the rules...

try to forget that the american academy of pediatrics says to let your baby (or babies) "cry it out", and go to your crying 22 month old daughter, who, for whatever reason on this particular night, does not want to go "night night". and when she calls out "mama! mama!", f*ck the rules and go to her.


my nomination for mother of the year.

no. i'm serious. zeke is going to nominate me. he told me tonight when we got back from our run.


sunday morning pancakes

everyone has their own saturday or sunday morning traditions, be it coffee in your pj's, cartoons with the kids, getting your long run done, or sleeping off the mishaps from the night before. our sunday morning tradition is to sit down, as a family, to a breakfast table full of pancakes. lots of chewy, yummy pancakes. don't worry, we try to incorporate smoothies or fresh fruit into the whole ordeal as well, you know, just to balance things out.


pumpkin black bean soup.

the fall of 2007 was a pretty lonely and dark time for me. but the glimmer of hope and light that seemed to shine constant was created by two things - my affinity for cooking and the support of family.

on days when i could barely pry myself off of my kitchen floor from exhaustion and/or depression, my family would pick me up... rather, pull me up... with their words of support, frequent visits and time spent just sitting with me. and on the rare occasion when they weren't there for me, i often found myself lost, completely engrossed, in some latest cookbook or foodie blog, making comforting meals for myself as i nourished my body back to health... it's funny how when you start caring for your body, your heart and soul often follow.


becoming a runner

so, remember this post? the one where i told all ya'll that i had a tibia stress fracture and would be out of the running game for four-to-six weeks?

well, i got back at it after five weeks off. once i was able to pass the "hop test" with flying colors, i decided to start running again, but very conservatively (my runs mostly consisted of long walks with occasional running thrown in for giggles). but within one week of resuming my training, the exact same pain came back... only this time, in the other leg.


monday, a summary in less than 1000 words

while i was at work today, a suspected break-in happened at the house. the nanny had taken the kids to the park, and when she returned, she found the door standing open. we have had a rash of these in our neck of the woods lately. apparently, with school not yet being in session, the youngin's of the neighborhood have run out of things to do. the nanny went to a neighbor's house, who helped her with the kids and checked the house for missing items and/or a crazy psychopath lurking in a dark closet somewhere. nothing missing, and no psychopath found. crisis #1 averted.


sort of vegan pesto.

i wouldn't say i'm a vegan. no, i wouldn't say that. i can safely say i'm a 90% vegetarian at this point, save for the occasional grass-fed local beef. but i wouldn't say i'm a vegan. no, i definitely wouldn't say that. and here's the reason why i am not a vegan:



a boozy basil cocktail.

in my life B.T. (before twins), entertaining and having people over was something i really loved doing. for starters, if you have people coming over to your house regularly, it’s a great excuse to keep things neat ‘n tidy. it’s also a great excuse to try new cocktails and recipes. but now that i have toddler twins, my sanity is not the only thing that has gone the way of the days of yore. having people over for dinner is something i rarely do anymore, and i really miss it. my hope is that as nash and zeke get a bit older and more self-sufficient that i can resume some of my hospitality strengths and be a better friend to the people who have been amazing friends to me.


yet another injured runner.

let's start tonight's post with a question: what are the top three most unfortunate things a doctor could say to you upon looking at an x-ray of one of your body parts?

for me, the top three are "uh-oh..."; "i don't know how to break this to you..."; and, "wow...".


tummy from hell

in my blog stalking reading, i have been looking and looking for a fellow twin mama who is a runner and has gotten back into shape, without surgery, after having twins. maybe i haven’t looked hard enough, but i haven’t found a soul. i know that comparing myself to others isn’t wise for my “self esteem project: day f’cking 1”, but sometimes it’s absolutely necessary to feel a sense of camaraderie, even if it’s with someone you will never meet.


allow me to introduce the badger

one year ago today, i met The Badger for the first time at the aster cafe. i was more than just a little nervous. i had changed outfits approximately six times before heading out the door ten minutes late. i texted him that i was running a little behind, and i'm sure he wondered more than a few times if i was actually going to show up. i do believe that i blamed my tardiness on the two four-month-olds that i left at home for the night. but really, it was all the wardrobe malfunctions.


ambitious yard work

last night was much like any other night.

after our typical routine of playing with, feeding, and putting the twins to bed, the badger and i began to tackle our somewhat lengthy list of home improvement tasks.

most of the items on that list are centered around the exterior of our home.  in the three months since we have lived here, the ground has pretty much been covered in snow, which has allowed us to envision a yard much like eden itself  - overflowing with lush grasses, filled with fragrant blooms and speckled with trees as grand as the lord of hosts Herself. however, as the snow has now finally melted,  we have discovered the somewhat overwhelming clean-up project that lay before us, thus deducing that, quite frankly, the previous owners of our home simply did not give a sh*t. in fact, i think they took it upon themselves as a personal mission to make the yard as ghetto as possible.


chocolate chip cookies and my first 5k

i ran a 5k today. that's right. a 5k (more specifically, the get in gear). that's 3.1 miles. i finished in 29: 27 14. that's a big deal for me. i would like to thank the color pink and my sporty knee-high socks for my triumphant 5k. next up will be a half-marathon at the end of august, with a few more 5k's and 10k's thrown in for good measure between now and then.


pancakes that won't make you cry

i'm not sure what it is, but pancakes have always somewhat alluded me. they are so delicious, yet so devastatingly difficult to get right (an award goes out to the person who counts the number of d’s i use in this blog post. what is my deal today?! there’s another one!). the first time i made pancakes, much like the first time i made pie dough, i wound up in tears. they burned to a crisp and resembled mini-frisbees. then when i turned down the heat, they wouldn’t cook and slipped all over the skillet into bizarre shapes that didn't even come close to resembling pancakes.
but pancakes? you allude me no more.


soup, soup, i love soup!

i have only recently discovered how to make soup. yes, i am being serious. dead. serious. about. soup.

i used to scour the internet for soup, stew, even "stoup" recipes... i studied and studied, because i didn't want bland soup, overly-salted soup, soup with mushy, depressed vegetables, etc. my list of soup pet-peeves is really quite long (and strange).

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