Caribbean Steak Tacos that make you want HOLLA

I was inspired while at Jimmy Buffet's Cheeseburger In Paradise eating their shrimp tacos that tacos can be made a lil' bit different and still deliver a WOW factor. So I came home craving a new trial and this is what I came up with tonight(a must try I might add):

Flank Steak

2 limes

soy sauce

honey

hot pepper flakes

1 clove of garlic

rice vinegar

a bag of shredded red cabbage

1 small can Dole chunk pineapple

cilantro

tortillas

1. at LEAST 2 hours a head of time make marinade: Juice of 1 lime, 3 TB of honey, 1/2 cup Soy Sauce, 1/4 tsp of red pepper flakes, 1 clove of garlic chopped, 1/2 tsp of rice vinegar. Whisk and place in a zip-lock bag with the flank steak. Lay flat in the fridge until it is time to grill it.

2. Toss 3/4 of bagged cabbage with 1/2 cup chopped cilantro, juice of 1 lime, 1/3 cup pineapple juice out of can, and chopped pineapple cut into smaller chunks.

3. Grill steak as desired and slice thin when it is done

4. make a pile of steak and cabbage/pineapple slaw onto of tortilla. Roll it up, and ENJOY!

Ode To Rylan As He Turns 5

5 Years

My past life seems so long ago and vague. There are moments that glimmer and shine, and many that seem so lonely and unfulfilled. Often I think about my freedom I once had. The ability to do as I want when I want. It sounds so refreshing. I think about less often what I was missing then, and what I have now.

I read books in preparation. I marked the months going by with photos, and daily blurbs that told me if it was a size of a bean or a cantaloupe. I felt ready, I felt I knew it all, and then it happened. Five years ago I gave birth to my first child, and I realized I knew nothing.

I had no idea how I could love so much. The depths of emotion a tiny little person could bring out of a grown adult. I immediately thought, "Why didn't anyone tell me", but quickly learned there are some things in life that are unexplainable. The blessing of a child for the first time isn't something you can prepare for, and this is why it is the miracle of life.

On my worst, pull my hair out, send them back where they came from (ouch) day, I still wouldn't trade it for the world. There isn't a thing in the whole entire world that can compete with my love for my kids. Not even my own personal freedom to come and go as I please.

Watching my five year old today at Sesame Place declaring this being his "best birthday ever" makes every moment worth it. He braved new rides that once scared him and my heart sat in my throat until he was done. I watched him encourage his sister, and get her excited about Elmo. He surprised us with lessons about stranger danger, and how we don't get undressed in public. He declared himself a Kindergartner today.

I am unsure where the time has went. However, my life before him seems ages ago, and almost as if it was an entirely different person that lived it (in many ways it was). I owe it to my sweet boy who showed me that there is such a thing called unconditional love. I owe it to him for bringing out the best of who I am (and loving me while I learn from the moments during my worst). He started my life at 29 years old, and I love him for it.

Life wouldn't be the same without you in it Rylan. We love you.

Adele's Youngest Fan

The Joy Of Cooking

I love to cook. It is by far one of my favorite all time hobbies other then... well... blogging obviously.

I remember as an early pre-teen making oodles of noodles and trying to fancy them up. I went to college knowing how to make a handful of things that included fancy oodles of noodles and grilled cheese. I recall in grad school I had a wee bit more experience and often whipped up things in my head that didn't turn out half bad. In my early twenties I perfected the art of making a great meal with a serving of 1.

Cooking food to me soon turned into friendship. It was the center of so many meaningful times with friends and loved ones. It was made out of scratch and from love. Little is more fulfilling then the moment you surprise yourself and make something out of this world.

I don't like math so much so I am not much of a baker. I use recipes as a mere guideline not an end all be all. I like to try different types of ways to make one thing, and I eyeball stuff A LOT. It is true that my meatballs have never tasted the same in 10 years because each time I am doing it out of texture and eyeballing, trying one day to perfect my tries into "the perfect ball". For now Trader Joe's Turkey Meatballs totally has me beat.

We always go to the comfort foods we remember growing up with. I didn't spend time in the kitchen with my Mom growing up learning these things. Looking back of course, I wish I had and stepped away from playing school teacher and following my sister around like a stalker. If I learned early on how much cooking makes me delighted, maybe just maybe my life would be slightly different (like I probably would have a food blog instead).

It is no surprise that one of my favorite parts of the American History Smithsonian was Julia Child's kitchen. I could watch the Food Network all day everyday. I am a "foodie" and live for a good meal. I am in constant search of "the best of". I have more food magazine subscriptions then any other.

The best part of it is I am always a student. I am constantly learning, and could live to be a student well into my elder years. I love hobby's that do this. They stay constant but change over time (much like this lil'ol blog).

Needing WOW

Do you ever feel like your life is on cruise control and you are just coasting? Your days are predictable, rigid, and never feel like you have enough time. Nothing really stands out to make the day a perfect day, except for a sale on peanut butter that you just ran out of, or gas prices coming down 2 cents. You wake up longing to go to bed, and go to bed longing to sleep in.

Sadly, I have felt this way since my return from London/Paris months ago. Certainly nothing can have the WOW factor like that trip, nor are we on "vacation" in everyday life, but predictable is not exactly what I predicted to end up living. When a trip to Dunkin Donuts is the highlight of your day, and they f*ck up your order and you have a nervous breakdown over it--somethings got to give.

I have zero motivation. Zero. Not that I am a lazy women, as I am caring for two little active kids that want go outside and play every 2 seconds, and be fed every 10 minutes. Naturally as a Mother life is busy--but is it or should it be to busy for ME?

Answer is: HELL NO but recently it has been a hell yes.

I have been feeling like big hunks of dog terds because I have been forgetting Aimee. I have neglected to do the things I love such as:

-Blog

-Spend quality time with friends (in person or on the phone)

-Instead of going to bed at 8pm, spending time to watch a movie with my husband or talking about things going on

-Being mindful of my consumption

-eating at the dinner table with my family

-making time for exercise

-making plans to try new things (I have been wanting to take Indian cooking lessons and meditation for years now--why don't I JUST DO IT--heck if I never tried Zumba that first time where would I be?)

-the worst I have neglected is prayer. The most clarity comes when I am silent, still, and talking to the big man. I need to focus, and do more of this.

I had thought my down in the dumps first had to do with snow. Which it did, and I am still not forgetting about that HORRIBLE--please God have mercy on me next Winter--season, but it certainly wasn't the only reason. I also thought it was synthetic hormone related--which it was--getting off the pill changed me COMPLETELY. However, I think the sluggish--I never get enough sleep--grumpy feeling, that I continue to feel is related to that a-hole I am addicted to: SUGAR.

I love sugar. Sugar is in everything I love.

I remember reading this post a dear friend of mine wrote months ago and thinking God I wish I could do this. Both she and my sister who both at one time sat in my sugar loving shoes, managed to get to the other side of living a life without it. This seems so foreign to me, but oh so necessary. So, as I stood on the scale the other day and sobbed, I decided it was time to give it a whirl. After all, these to wonderful women did it. Why can't I? So for two days I have done what my sister suggested and cut it in half--starting with my daily staple--my Dunken' ice coffee. I am going to get the coffee down to NO sugar in the next few weeks. Baby steps, and prayers will hopefully get me there.

I am not going to beat myself up about that horrible number I saw on the scale the other night. I don't want to go in full out diet mode, and not live life. I don't want to beat myself up every time I look in the mirror because things aren't happening fast enough. I DO, however, want to feel better. I want to stop cruising, and taking the wheel. I want to drive off onto new horizons and fill my life with WOW even when I am NOT on vacation. And so this breaking up with sugar thing has less to do about weight, and more to do about WOW.

Help me by sharing how you make time for you. Do you find yourself in predictable mode or do you make use of your time with new experiences and people? I need a little motivation and inspiration. Inspire me. PLEASE.

Black

While putting on the "go to" black dress I began to wonder why people pick black to honor death. Is there a color people wear when babies are born and life begins? It just doesn't make sense, not when you have seen what I've seen.

Death should be celebrated. I know that is a hard statement to swallow, especially when it involves someone we can't imagine living without. The thing is, if you could imagine the worlds best vacation, times it by a million, you might be able to capture where all of our loved ones go. Although they will be missed here, isn't true love wanting the very best for another? The very best is living a life well intentioned and meant, and moving on to where we all came from.

(jump off soap box--feeling to preachy--I don't like the preaching --I like the knowing)

So I am here to tell you, my loyal friends and readers, that I declare NO BLACK attire when I die. No somber music. No wake so that people can mingle and whisper around my vacant body saying how sad it is I am gone. When actually I've been gone for years, and I am actually returning home.

I sort of want what Oprah had for her final days of giving up the show. Obviously not on such a grand scale, since heck I am not Oprah. However, I would love for people to share funny stories (or hey possibly a funny blog writing or two), memories that are fitting to who I am, and stories of how I helped man kind (because after all this is what matters. It is the meat of our journey). I want people to be happy for me. I want to hear Dave Matthews songs not sad church music. I want Sangria and laughter. I want to see vibrant colors that reflect LIFE. I want people to remember me ALIVE not dead.

I am convinced this is how all of the world should celebrate an ending of life. It should be thought of in the same context of the start of one. I want to burn my black dress and wear bright pink, not out of disrespect but for respect. Respect that someone lived there life as full as they were meant to, and that they get to go home, the place I long for always.

And She Is 2

I remember her all bundled up like a baby burrito sleeping with her hospital hat on and thinking what a miracle she was. Even though I had done it before, bringing new life to this world still floored me. Sure I knew it meant nights of bottle feedings and little sleep, but it also meant a lifetime of her.

She had no name for quite a few hours on this day in 2009. We went in so sure she was going to be a Madeline. When she came out in the operating room, I got a glimpse and thought, "WOW she looks like Rylan" followed by, "the name just doesn't fit". We practiced names on her for a few hours, and suddenly Pete and I came to a final decision. It fit her just right.

Fast forward two years later and it still fits right. However, I am convinced her name should mean the "firery one". She knows what she wants and whens he wants it. She is thick headed (can't imagine how she inherited this trait). She is dramatic, talkative, loud, funny, and loving. She still loves the song "You are my sunshine". She refuses to go to sleep at night without the family singing her goodnight song. She asks daily if she is a "pretty princess" after getting dressed. She could take anyone down in a pancake eating contest. She loves her brother, although sibling fights are on the rise. Her most loved and adored items are her "night nights" and her "baby go go" dolls. She bursts with happiness when she pushes Pete and I's faces together and we kiss. Her joy is infectious.

She is a miracle. We love her so. Our world just wouldn't be the same without her.

Addison.

We love you.

Happy 2nd Birthday.

Ode To Addie As She Turns 2

Here is Addie's video for this year as we approach her birthday weekend! She turns 2 6/12/11!

Hairy Legs: A Mothers Time Line & Frame Of Mind

I just realized you can tell what kind of week I am having by the length of the hair on my legs. This week I look like I am competing on Survivor. Nuff said.

You know when you are dreaming and it feels like real life but you can't wake up? I was dreaming this morning that I was going to miss the kids 9:30am doctors visit and in the midst of my dream I was trying to locate my kids to dress them and get them out the door. Well that must have been my body preparing me because I didn't wake up until.... drum roll please... 8:30!!!!! Rylan was sleeping soundly beside me and had been since 5 pm the day before!!! I had to WAKE him in order to get him ready for a 9:30 appointment. This would be understandable if homeboy was still sick, but he is no longer feverish, coughing, or runny. The kicker was Addison was sitting up in her crib talking to her babies about breakfast: "Baby Go Go you want yum yum. Addie hungry too. I eat blueberries and pan-cake-ahe". Clearly someone had to feed this child soon.

Rushing into my 5 minute shower, I realized I had a 10 minute window of time after feeding, dressing, and readying the kids, to get myself together. A quick glance and a "ahh shit" at my legs, verified it would be yet another day I would be wearing a dress in 100 degree weather feeling like a prickly cat. It could have been worse though. I could have actually shaved my legs, be late to the doctors, not have been seen, and then had yet another day with the almost 5 year old home and had gotten nothing done.

So for now, I am sporting, and totally digging the hairy leg look. It is so worth a moment of peace with a kid at school, and the other sleeping. Can I get an Amen to that?

Florida

Oh Florida how we have a love-hate relationship. For some reason every single time we are there someone is sick. This time it started out with Addison who left on a jet plane with an 102 fever. She continued to struggle with feeling like crap for days until we brought her into our home away from home, urgent care in FL. She graduated with a double ear infection, and luckily started feeling better soon. Just as we thought we were in the clear, Rylan started getting a fever and not feeling well. Poor kid not only had it the rest of the vacation, but continues to have high fever, sinus infection, double ear infections, and pre-pneumonia.

We sadly didn't get a lot of beach time. A. because most of the time someone was to sick to go and B. because Addison absolutely LOATHES IT. I mean, stick her on a beach and she thinks it is torture. She refuses to let her feet touch sand. She hates getting dirty. She hates wind and when there is a breeze FORGET about it. Plus she doesn't like to go into the water, nor does she like the waves. This is a killer for the rest of us who LIVE for the beach! We are praying she grows out of this real fast. (like in the next month since we have our annual beach house vacation in Rhode Island coming up). She also wasn't a fan of the pool until the very last few days when she realized it could actually be fun! (and that there were no waves, no sand, and no breeze that day!).

Here are some pics from our FL days:

Me & my boy:

Pete & Ry taking a walk on the dock:
Checking out the local airport:
What is better then seeing real planes!
Addison finally loving the water:
Rylan learning to swim with his vest on:
Silly kids!
happy @ the ocean:
Next year when it is Florida time, I am starting the kids on heavy vitamins in preparation.

DC

Our visit to DC was compact. We had flown to Florida days before and then found ourselves back on a plane to DC for the show. Two days later we were on a plane back to Florida to finish out a few days of vacation before returning home. Needless to say it felt as if we spent most of our vacation either preparing for a flight, waiting for a flight, or on a flight. However, it was well worth it.

The night we got to the city we decided to be low key since shooting the show was early the next morning. We grabbed dinner and watched a movie (HangOver 2) since we were without kids and called it a night.

The next day after the big shoot we had a lot on our list. It was our only full day in DC and we tried to make the best of it. The heat was abnormally insane and walking more then 15-20 minutes at a time was not an option. Luckily we had a rental car with ac that worked well, unluckily parking is horrendous there. We had a full deck of historical wishes but only got to one Smithsonian exhibit, a drive by of the monuments, and a look at the White House. Not so bad for the small amount of time we were working with (and the weather), but still not exactly what we had hoped for either. We saw some really cool stuff, but nothing that seemed incredibly old after going to London and Paris. Still, seeing as it is a part of our history, it was pretty amazing.

We also go to meet up with a dear, and old friend of mine that works for the government and is always in some remote area in some cool place. She just came back from Cuba and is in DC before leaving for Greece. Luckily our paths crossed and I got to hug her. Sadly I didn't gain a picture as I was to entrenched in our conversation to thing of such a thing. It was a great reminder why great friends stick through the years. She knows me better then I know myself sometimes.

We ended our mini getaway with an early flight that we barely made thanks to bad GPS directions. Thankfully we got back to Florida just in time for an afternoon swim in the pool. Florida was actually cooler then DC was!

Here are some pics from our trip. Sadly I forgot to take pics on the set which I meant to do, but got all caught up in the moment (much like my talk with my girlfriend), that I lost the moment on film (thankfully it will air next Winter for ALL to see!).

Pete pretending to be president:

No Cigars in this office:
The White House--which we had to ask for directions too because it was oddly hidden:
Us sweaty and icky outside saying what up to the prez:
Julia Childs Diploma:
Julia Childs actual pans and peg board which she outlines all the pans on!:
The Flag that flew at Lincoln's funeral:
The hat Lincoln was assassinated in: (Pretty AWESOME to see!)
Archie Bunker's chair:
First Lady Obama's dress (and HUGE shoes):
Jackie O's dress:
Martha Washington's Dress:
And so much more that I didn't get to film because 23,987 students were on field trips there. If you go to DC you must check out the American History Smithsonian (and it's FREE!).

I'll keep you all posted on the developments of the show!

Plastic Heels and Pony's: A Day In The Life Of Addie

This month is the month of birthday's. Besides my own June bugs--we have a lot of friends that are also June bugs. Both kids were excited to attend one of their friends birthday parties that featured a petting zoo. Sadly Rylan had to miss out today due to having pre- pneumonia and in rough shape. Addison, on the other hand, loved seeing friends, having her first pony ride, squeezing the animals, and of course cup cake consuming. It is a great way to start off the week that will end with her own birthday!

Addie petting the goat. Her saying "Hi Goat. I pet you goat.":
Peek a boo in the play house:
A snack with her pal:
Petting the bunny with her friend that she refers to as "My Tori" while pointing to herself:
Addie's first pony ride! Not scared but very serious. The pony's name was Sparkle and she liked to call her "parkle":
Poor boy. So sick but still asked to get his picture taken:
Sporten her plastic heels, she wanted to wear them to the party. I negated this, and thought there are only particular girls that wear plastic heels in public and she can't be one of them. Or else I would have to borrow the pony's name and call her "Sparkle pony" or something of the sorts.
"See my pretty princess shoes" she says:

Meant

It isn't often I am in a moment and I feel as if it is exactly where I am supposed to be. A moment that feels life defining, freeing, and God sent. This particular moment for me just so happened while sitting in a studio in DC under bright lights.

The night before I had waited and anticipated my "norm" which means overly anxious, nervous, and unable to eat. It never came.

The morning of the shoot I woke up after a sound sleep astonished. I can't sleep soundly when I am substitute teaching at a new school never mind a tv interview that is souly based on a personal experience I had never shared in it's entirety in my life. It didn't make sense to me.

In the car on the way to the studio I waited for the need to ask Pete for the "you can do it" pep talk. Guess what? It never came.

I sat in a room filled with people that believed in my story. An experience I had purposely kept secret in fear of being judged or thought of as a liar. Now I was in a room of nothing less of supportive believers.

They asked me to sit in a chair that sat amongst dark back drops. They fooled around with lighting, powdered my nose, and made some sound checks. For this completely unnatural environment to me, I felt so purposely placed. I was not nervous. I was meant.

The question of the meaning of life is never ending. Our constant quest to find out what our purpose or intention on living this life is one we all spend our entire lives in search of. In this very moment I honestly felt this was part of my big picture. Part of the words God spoke to me when I was only 8 years old that said I was meant to change lives. These big words of wisdom could mean a million different things I have already done in my life. Helped people get clean off drugs, taught kids how to read, helped friends/family through hard times-but none of which felt related to what the big man meant. I have exhausted myself on this quest of meaning. Even in my high school year book you can find under my 1995 ambition was to make a dramatic difference in someones life. It is who I am and what I am meant to do.

While telling my story on camera I felt for the first time this is what he meant. Somehow my experience, and this amazing show is going to change lives. I even boldly said so to the producer on the way out. I thanked her for letting me be part of the show, that it was an honor and a blessing, and that it is going to help a lot of people out there. I just know it.

Here is the thing I know for sure: it isn't about what religion you are, or how many times you have been church. It is the person you choose to live purposely as. What you have done for mankind. I keep thinking of this when I get worried about this airing next Winter. I get all caught up in what people will think or how I looked on tv, and then I get myself centered. I remind myself that this was not actually about me, but how my experience will be able to help others.

It was surreal. The entire thing took my breath away while feeling so insanely right. The only moment feeling slightly odd was standing on the side of a street for a photo shoot and watching all of the people staring at me. They probably walked away thinking how I didn't look familiar and that I wasn't important. The truth is we all are. The truth is, we all have a story that could help somebody.

I set myself free, while doing exactly what I was meant to. Tv or no tv, that is a blessing.