Old friends

On May 19th one of my dearest friends arrived with her 3 year old to stay with us for a week. It was a much anticipated visit, and one that doesn't happen too often. We've been the best of friends since we were roommates in college, and although that was years ago, it doesn't feel like much has changed since then. Erin's son is 2 weeks older than Madeleine, so we knew the two of them would get along swimmingly. And we were right. Within an hour of arriving, I heard Miles exclaim to Madeleine, "You're my best friend EVER!" If only we could all express our emotions so sincerely. From that moment forward, they were inseparable.

Being able to spend extended time with Erin was such a treat. We both realized what benefits commune living has. The children were thrilled to have another grown-up around who had new ideas and different ways of relating. As a (primarily) stay-at-home mom, I loved having an extra set of hands and a built in babysitter when I did have to work. For the most part, we did the same old things that I usually do with my children, but being able to share that with Erin made everything more enjoyable. We couldn't get over seeing our little ones holding hands walking down the street because it seems like just yesterday that we were the young ones, unattached, uninhibited, and still discovering ourselves. What a difference sixteen years makes! I'm happy to say that I still feel very much like that young person, just with more responsibilities and a greater awareness that comes naturally with age. Although I only see Erin once or twice per year, we have the type of friendship that picks up from exactly where it left off. It's rare and beautiful, and something I don't take for granted.

Of course, I'd be lying if I said the house didn't feel cramped after almost a week. I would never describe myself as a clean-freak, but I found myself mopping and sweeping much more often than I normally do. I'm sure Erin also could have used an hour (or five) to herself in peace and quiet, as I know her solitary time is a daily necessity. My kids don't allow for that, but her son amazingly can play on his own for an hour or more while she decompresses. Not much of that happened here. Overall, we laughed, we played, we reminisced, we cooked; we reinforced a bond that is deeper than I can articulate.

Madeleine has said multiple times per day that she misses her friend, Miles. She's experiencing a feeling that isn't common to her yet, but as adults we're more than used to saying goodbye to people we love. Just because we're accustomed to it doesn't make it easier. I have many cousins and friends spread throughout the states, Canada, and Europe and I wish I could see them all more often. But my friendship with Erin is a great example of how enduring a connection between two people can be. And that's worth suffering through an eternity of goodbyes for.

Dinner is served, and it's: Turkey Lasagna

I could eat pasta most nights of the week, and so could my husband and kids. The trick is coming up with variety and healthier versions of classic recipes. Lasagna is great because it feeds an entire family and usually leaves leftovers. Also, it's possible to create a well-balanced meal by adding vegetables, whole grains, and lean protein. My take on lasagna is a combination of multiple recipes. Here's what you'll need:


Whole Wheat lasagna noodles (approximately 6)
1 container of low-fat ricotta cheese (15 oz)
1/2 cup of Parmesan cheese
1/2 cup 2% mozzarella cheese
1/2 cup part-skim mozzarella cheese
1 egg
1 jar tomato sauce (I like Trader Joe's Roasted Garlic Marinara)
1 lb of Jenny-O Lean seasoned turkey meat
3 8oz cans stewed tomatoes
2 cups baby spinach
1 tbsp dried basil


Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Cook lasagna noodles according to package and then place in cold water (to avoid sticking). Meanwhile, in large sauce pan, cook turkey meat until completely done. Drain excess fat. Add 1 jar of tomato sauce and 1 can of stewed tomatoes to turkey. Stir and leave on simmer.


Lightly whisk egg in medium bowl and stir in ricotta cheese, Parmesan, and dried basil. Set aside. Spray 13x9 inch baking dish with cooking spray and then spread turkey sauce on bottom (about 3/4 cup). Layer 3 noodles over the sauce. Spread remaining sauce over noodles (there should be a lot), and then 2/3 cup ricotta mixture on sauce. Place spinach leaves on ricotta and then top with 1/2 cup of mozzarella cheeses (mix the 2% with the part-skim). Add 3 more noodles, and top with 2 cans of stewed tomatoes (drain some of the juice before pouring on noodles). Spoon rest of ricotta mix on top of tomatoes, and sprinkle remaining mozzarella over ricotta. Spray foil with nonstick spray, cover lasagna, and bake for 45 minutes. Remove foil and bake uncovered for another 10 minutes. Let stand for 10-15 minutes before serving.


As you can see, I don't add many layers to my lasagna. I rather have a meaty middle layer surrounded by cheese and noodles. But that's just my preference -- feel free to change it up. I cut the fat by using reduced-fat cheeses and lean meat, and added fiber with the whole wheat noodles. By throwing in spinach, there's a serving of vegetables without even really tasting it. Serve with a green salad to really balance out the meal.


Enjoy!

No shortcuts

I have a client who is extremely hard-working and determined in most aspects of her life. She's kind and generous in her relationships, and disciplined in her work ethic. But when it comes to losing weight, like many others, she wants a quick fix. She's tried every diet fad imaginable and, as a last and reluctant resort, she came to me. I've been with her for many months now and she not only visibly looks healthier, she also feels better. But she has a goal weight in mind and until she sees that number on the scale, she won't be satisfied. If I've learned anything so far in my life, it's that anything worth succeeded at takes time and effort. There isn't an easy way out. As much as I'd like to cut corners occasionally, I know that when I do skip workouts or eat in a way that makes me feel lethargic and unproductive, I'm the only one who loses. If I want to run a marathon, I have to train for it -- there's no way around that. If someone wants to lose weight, there's work involved, no excuses. Exercise has to be in the equation for anyone that's looking for long-term health benefits. The scale dictates progress, but it doesn't validate the daily efforts that go along with committing to an exercise routine. While shortcuts can occasionally get us to our destinations quicker, a shortcut is also defined as "a method of doing something more directly and often not as thoroughly as by ordinary means". Sometimes life calls for an alternative approach, but when it comes to getting our bodies to their healthiest states, the only real way to achieve success is by continually challenging the body through exercise, and eating a balanced diet. This takes dedication and focus and, without a doubt, plenty of hard work. It isn't easy but the pay off literally equals years added to our lives. And in my opinion, that's worth working for.

Dinner is served, and it's: Spinach and Asparagus Pasta (with bacon!)

This pasta recipe is sure to satisfy most guys, because most guys I know love bacon. The good news is that while bacon does play a role in this meal, it doesn't play a big enough one to make it unhealthy. A little bacon flavor goes a long way! I got this recipe online at myrecipes.com, which is a site I usually access through CookingLight.com (my go-to for healthy cooking). It's easy and tasty. Here's what you need:

1-2 strips bacon
2 garlic cloves
1/2 medium shallot
3/4 cup low-sodium chicken broth
fresh asparagus (approximately 8 spears)
1/2 bag fresh baby spinach
whole wheat penne pasta
1/4 cup shredded Parmesan

Here's what you do:

Boil water and cook pasta according to package. Heat heavy iron saute pan and cook bacon until crisp. Remove bacon from pan and reserve 2 tbsp of bacon drippings. Coarsely chop bacon and set aside. Chop onion and garlic and saute on low heat in bacon drippings for 3 minutes, stirring constantly. Pour chicken broth into pan and bring to a boil. Add asparagus (I cut them into 1 inch pieces). Let broth reduce for about 10 minutes, stirring occasionally. Drain pasta and add to saute pan along with spinach. Turn off heat. Mix pasta, chicken broth sauce, and spinach together thoroughly and stir for 2 minutes, until spinach begins wilting. Divide into 2 dishes and top with fresh Parmesan and crumbled bacon. That's all there is to it!

*Note: Be sure to use low-sodium chicken broth because when the broth reduces, the salt comes out. If you don't use low-sodium broth, the dish can taste too salty.

Also, this dish can be made without bacon altogether, just use olive oil as a replacement.

Bon Appetit!

My Mom

Yesterday I bought a Mother's Day card for my mom. As Sunday approaches, I find myself thinking a lot about my mom and what I've learned from her, and continue to learn from her. When I was growing up, I definitely didn't see her for who she truly is -- I'm not sure if children have the ability to see their mothers as real people. She really never sat down when were were young. She was a nurse for forty years, and in our early school years she worked the night shifts so she could be there to pick us up and spend time with us in the afternoons. There was a home-cooked meal on the table every night, unless she was ill, and I have no memory of my mom ever being sick when I was a kid. She also took great pride in our house -- the kitchen was never left with dishes in the sink, the bathrooms were scrubbed clean, the beds always made first thing in the morning. I remember her packing our lunches each night, folding never-ending piles of laundry, and even doing my older brother's paper-route for him when he wasn't able. I rarely recollect my mother relaxing.

During the teenage years, we battled. Like her, I was headstrong and determined. If I set my mind to do something, I did it (and I didn't always set my mind to do positive things at that age). I didn't realize that she had passed along such a powerful trait until much later in life. We made it through my teens but with a lot of arguing and plenty of standoffs. When I went away to college, I finally had a chance to see my mother in a different light. As I became more independent and more mature, I began to identify more with her. Living out of the house meant living away from the rules and high standards I associated with my mother. I was finally free to make my own decisions and, inevitably, I didn't always make the right ones. As a result, our conversations started to take a turn. I confided in her when I fell in love or was heartbroken. I asked her advice when I had troubles in my friendships. The older I got, the more I respected her opinion and sought her approval.

I believe I only fully saw who my mother really was when I became a mother. I can understand now why she wanted to protect me and guard me from all the evils of the world. The petty arguments, which seemed so monumental at the time, were sparked from fear and worry. I look at my mom today and see how much she has accomplished in sixty-five years and I can't help but be awe-stricken. When she was diagnosed with breast cancer almost two years ago, she didn't slow down or wallow in self-pity. It isn't who she is. I imagine a mastectomy can really take a toll on a woman's self-esteem, but my mom always kept a positive attitude and never let cancer control her outlook. She scheduled chemo for Thursdays so she could get through the worst of it during the weekends and be back at work on Mondays. I never once saw her still lounging in her pajamas at noon. Everyday she took great pride in her appearance, as usual. She put her makeup on, and curled her hair. And when she lost her hair, she took the same pride in styling the wigs she wore. When her clothes became too big, she bought new ones that made her feel confident.

Those who know my mom know that she gives without a thought of receiving; she is the epitome of selfless. She takes care of everyone around her -- almost to a fault -- and gives extra special attention to my father, the love of her life.

On Saturday I will be joining my mother in the Revlon Walk for Women, which raises funds to fight women's cancers. I'm always proud of her, but I'm especially proud at this moment in life because of all she has achieved and all that I know she has left to achieve. I'm lucky to take after her in many ways, especially when it comes to our mutual drive. I hope that I can look back at sixty-five and say that I've used that trait to service others the way my mother has.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom.

Dinner is served, and it's: Shrimp Ceviche Tacos

This recipe is an oldy but goody. I tend to forget about it during the colder months and then put it back in the weekly menu rotation towards summer. These tacos are very healthy and low in calories, so feel free to eat 2 or 3. They're even lighter if you omit the avocado, but who wants to do that? Most ingredients (besides lump crab meat) can be bought at Trader Joe's, or any other local grocer.

Here's what you need:

Corn tortillas
1/2 lb shrimp
1/8 lb lump crab meat
5 limes
1 bunch cilantro
1 red onion
1/2 avocado
1 medium tomato

1 can black beans
1 can sweet corn
1 tsp olive oil
salt and pepper

First we'll make the black bean and corn salad that I like to serve with these tacos. I make this ahead of time because the lime juice really tastes great in this dish once it's had a chance to sit for an hour in the refrigerator. Drain black beans and corn and pour into medium sized bowl. Add 2 tbsp of fresh chopped cilantro, 1/4 cup chopped red onion, the juice of two medium sized limes, and 1 tsp of olive oil. Season with salt and pepper to liking. Toss well and put in the fridge while making tacos.

Rinse shrimp and remove tails (if applicable), cut into small pieces and pour into medium sized bowl. Chop 1/4 cup of cilantro and 1/4 cup red onion and mix with shrimp. Add lump crab meat, 1/2 cubed avocado, and chopped tomato to the bowl. Squeeze remaining two limes over shrimp mix and stir well. Add one more lime if necessary (I personally think the limier the better!). Let ceviche sit in the fridge for 30 minutes (or as long as you can wait).

Before eating, heat corn tortillas according to package in the microwave. Serve 3 heaping spoonfuls of ceviche in tortillas alongside bean salad. Enjoy!

Soccer Star

Madeleine recently started playing soccer for the YMCA, and last weekend we went to her second game (we missed the first one because we were in Napa). I felt like I entered another phase of parenting -- one I didn't realize would be such a milestone. Attending her game was a lot of fun and, I hope, the beginning of many more Saturday morning sporting events. I went for a long run that morning and got home just in time to get Madeleine dressed in her (very large) uniform. Keith and I loaded the kids up in the double stroller and walked a few blocks to the field where the game was scheduled. The kids had a 30 minute practice before the whistle blew, and we watched as Madeleine took turns kicking the soccer ball into the goal. Like everything she does, she was cautious and precise -- no big, animated kicks, just controlled dribbling of the ball, right up to the net and then a gentle, direct kick into the goal. I realized that she'll play sports the way she lives life -- with reserved enthusiasm. I, on the other hand, was not reserved at all and found myself cheering and yelling loudly (in true form). Just when her little legs made it to one end of the field, the ball would inevitably be kicked back to the other end, and at one point she stopped and said, "I'm so sleepy!". Keith and I had to laugh.

The game was a blast. We met other parents, some as enthusiastic as us, and I felt bonded with these people instantly because watching your child's introduction to a team sport is a unique experience. I think I learned a lot of life lessons when I was a kid by playing sports, and I'm amazed that my daughter is already at that age. Her first lesson was a kick in the face. Literally. Towards the end of the game, Madeleine fell and while on the ground she accidentally got a cleat to the face. Almost a rite of passage when playing an aggressive team sport. It was a combination of pain and humiliation that made her cry, and I as held her and comforted her, I told her a story of a time when I got hurt playing soccer; I fell and someone stepped on my hand while running past me. I said that after I cried for a minute, I got back up and continued playing the game. I have to admit, it was a white lie, but I wanted her to understand that she'll probably get hurt occasionally and that shouldn't deter her from ever getting back on her feet.

As we quickly approach this Saturday's game, I look forward to seeing her out there again. I'm aware of the fact that she may decide she doesn't like soccer, and of course that would be fine with me, but in the meantime I'll enjoy this process of watching her uncover her talents.