The final kicker came while watching Jillian Michaels asking someone why they would choose to suck at life.  If awesome is an option, why wasn’t I choosing awesome?

So, I came up with a little test.  Just a simple matrix to determine just how processed my food is.

1. Did I pick it, gather it, milk it, churn it or dig it out of the ground?
2. Can I identify all of the ingredients?
3. Are all of the ingredients known to be food?

If I answer “no” to any of those then I figure that I am eating processed food.

Now, since I don’t have a farm outside of Farmville.  What to do?

Well, the next step would be minimally processed.

If I were in a strange caveman Geico commercial, would the cavemen recognize the food?

Yes, that is minimally processed.  Eggs, once gathered, who knows what happens to them?  They get cleaned, I know that having grown up on a farm.  Farm fresh usually has farm poo on them.  Apples get picked, then apparently waxed, so they are shiny.  Processed. Albeit, minimally.

And so it goes.

Once you get to the point of having a food label, you are getting further along the processed highway.  Although, not all labeled food is highly processed.  Cheese has ingredients.  They should be limited to milk and enzymes.  Once you add “powder” you’ve gone over the edge.

Finally, I should  point out that neither “flavor” nor  “blue”  is a food.  Neither is “red”.  If they are listed in your food, ask yourself WHY?  Why am I eating a color?

Another factor in what I eat has been, “Do I know who prepared this?”  I’m finding I really like to know.  I discovered this after carefully watching gloved fast food workers scratch themselves, rub their noses, you know.  Now, had they not been wearing gloves, would they be more likely to wash their hands after such activities?  Survey says “yes”.  The gloves give them some sort of disconnect, gives them a sense of being protected from germs.  Yes, they won’t get snot on their hands, but the snot is on the outside of the glove.  If you don’t believe me, go watch someone wearing gloves.  You’ll see.

Of course I am not perfect.  I crave nuclear mac & cheese at times.  But the further from my last processed meal, the less I miss them.  Last month, I craved a SALAD.  Tonight I had grilled pineapple on my kosher hot dog.  Best thing ever.  I make the most amazing guac.  I had no idea green enchilada sauce could be so yum.  All of these foods I tried only recently.  And I love them.  The kids love them.  I even sneak sugar snap peas and pineapple to the neighbor boys.

Although in the spirit of full disclosure, I still drink about four cans of Coke a day.

Shut up.   Every time I read the book, the turtle wins.

aka

My birthday party.

I was born in the one spot on the calendar that is nearly as bad as Christmas when it comes to having a birthday party.  It usually falls between the last weekend of summer before school starts, and the actual last weekend of summer, Labor Day.  Every year I’d invite people, and every year they’d RSVP “I have to go camping with the fam.”

So, I’m making up for my lost youth.

Last year I asked Tech Support for a slumber party at a hotel with all my bestest local girl friends, and we had a blast.  This year will be no different, except there will be more people.  Right.

and if hanging with me isn’t incentive enough, there will be Shanda cake.

So, if you live in the City by the Sea, or are close to the City by the Sea or are willing to travel to the City by the Sea the weekend of August 28-29 do come over.  Get someone to sit on your kids and dogs.  There will be food.  There will be laughter.  There will be beverages.  There will be embarrassing pictures posted on Facebook anonymously.  If you might be interested if you only knew where the City by the Sea is, email me.

and

Since not everyone can be here, Rachel, I’m also taking the show on the road.  I’m planning on going to DC in September, and KY via Nashville in October.  So, if you’d like to buy me lunch lmk.

Not to forget, there is the Women of Faith thing in San Antonio in October as well.  If you’d like to join me there, join here first.  I promise that I will not try to save you.  Not my job.  I will not ask you to give up anything, sign anything, convert to MY way of doing things.  It is just an awesome conference where women discuss life.  Where you can hear about how wonderful God is and how He wants you to have a life bigger than you can want for yourself.  Plus, there’s Marcus Buckingham, poor guy probably didn’t know what he was getting himself into.  lol.

Well, I for one am psyched.  Mmmm, Shanda cake.  Friends.  Staying up late.  Sleeping in.

Does anyone have a karaoke machine?

Last night the challenge was to use a breakfast cereal to make a main course for dinner.

I’m sorry, but if all I have is Fruit Loops, an egg, and a pork tenderloin, I’m gonna probly not combine them.  What is wrong with a plain old pork tenderloin the way God intended?  YUM. (also, it’s funny because God didn’t like pigs originally.  You know in the old Testament)

So, during the presentation the snobby chef dude got all judgmental and disguised it as a statement “I couldn’t just give my kid a bowl of cereal, for dinner.”

Well then you aren’t really trying.

And you want to be on my TV.

Apparently he’s better than me, because he can make a tasty meal out of Fruit Loops and meat.

Apparently I am better than me too.

I couldn’t give my kids cereal for dinner either.

It would require shopping.

So, I did the responsible thing and had my 17 year old hand me some thru the drive thru window.  Which can I say, is a little weird.

yes that’s right, tonight was a #foodfail

Other things I’ve learned while watching TV.  Our local news station needs a new person writing copy for them.  Because, if the news report is accurate, “animal control plans to run out of food before the end of the year.”  That’s right, they put their heads together down there at animal control, and DECIDED to run out of food.  That’s the plan.  Maybe they “anticipate” that they will run out of food, or as long as we are doing some quality reporting, throw in the word “probly”  I just wish the mayor would steal another dog.  Now, that was entertaining.

Plus, their new weather slogan is “we worry about the weather so you don’t have to” NO, what you do is not called worry.  My kids worry about the weather.  What you do is annoy us with the weather.

High pressure.

Wind.

Rain.

I know you want to watch the Bachelor, but it’s windy and since you are sitting there on your couch instead of in front of a green screen, you probably don’t know that.  So, we’ll tell you.  Every. Four. Minutes.

It’s windy.

It’s raining.  Don’t drive….stay alive.

Don’t drown, turn aroun.

(I know but it didn’t rhyme)

Alright, I’m declaring an end to my funkiness, and am going to go make a pork tenderloin with a fruit loop coating, dredge it in egg and then undercook it.

BECAUSE I WANT TO BE THE NEXT FOOD NETWORK STAR

on your TV

I don’t have it all together.

Let’s sit with that for a bit.

I, annieology, do not have it all together.

There are signs.

For instance.  Only one of my legs will be shaved at any given time.

It’s like it’s rocket science or something.  For some reason, I just don’t get the concept, or I get distracted or….

I don’t know.

Clearly if I had answers, I would have solved this problem.

Maybe the answer is those fancy lasers that remove all the hair from my legs.  Somebody want to give me three grand?

It’s for an important cause.  The less I have to remember to shave both legs, the more I can work on world peace.

I’m bored.

I have this weird mid-life crisis thing going on where I have decided it’s about time I got it together.  I woke up early.  Giving the kids 90 minutes to get ready for camp.  It was calm and quiet and we enjoyed our morning instead of the usual whining and pleading,  and really, kids shouldn’t have to put up with that from their mother.

The sign behind my desk reads “I’ve had it together for ______ days” like the construction site safety signs.  Yeah and every day I am supposed to erase the number and put the next number in line up, but I don’t because ONE is my record.  So, I’m thinking of getting out the Sharpie…..but I don’t, (because the sign doesn’t exist, but I’m going to make it exist)

Having it together for one half day, I’ve gotten bored.  The kids are at camp.  My normal activities are done.  I even transferred the ice from the tray to the bin, because we’re fancy like that and like to make our ice from scratch, plus FILLED THE TRAYS BACK UP….

I know.  If you make your ice from scratch you know what a chore that is.  Apparently it is, because we never have ice.

Now, I’m blogging, but when that’s done, there will be nothing left to do but clean.

I said “nothing” not “no one”  (did I tell you Tech Support is working from home again? and by working from home I mean doing some computery stuff and sexually harassing me – it’s nice)

I guess what I am saying is that when I’m done writing this post, I’ll have nothing left to do but clean.

So, you might want to fix yourself a drink, we’re gonna be awhile.

It’s OK, we’ll wait for you to return.

See, we didn’t leave without you.  We love you, even if we don’t love each other anymore.

Oh wait, that’s a bad episode of Super Nanny.

Things I found #funny today.

1. Barnes & Noble having “huge kids sale” thank you but I prefer my kids small, and also done with kids.
2. Sly Stallone’s new movie “Expendable’s” bwahahahahahahahahahaha (the title, not the content, like I’d watch a Sly Stallone movie ever again.  You just aren’t going to top “Stop or My Mom Will Shoot”)
3. Gene Simmon’s Family Jewels.  lmao every time.

OK, I’m boring myself here.  I will either go clean or try to convince Tech Support that work will always be there, but these boobs only have a few more years in them.

peace out

Not that weight control was my issue, I just figured eating better would help me lose that baby weight I’ve been carrying around since the twins came.

Sure they are “adopted” but that’s not my point, I still gained 15 pounds.

I was wrong about the weight thing.  I eat so much more now because it is so amazingly good.

Like if you have ever had pineapple in a can, it’s tolerable.

But if you’ve ever had pineapple in Hawaii.  Oh.  My.  Lordy. Praise Jesus that is good!

I have never been a fan of guac.  Historically guac, for me, has come in a pop top from the chip aisle.  Underwhelming at best.  Yesterday I made my own and “hello gluttony”.

Did I tell you I spent ten days in Oregon?  I believe I did.  I have so many places I tell people things I forget to tell people things sometimes.  I do not want to be that person you follow on Twitter, and Facebook and blah blah blah and you get stories about my cat in triplicate.

Not that I have a cat, but ykwim.

Anyway, every 14 feet there is a “Pick Your Own” farm.  The whole state of Oregon, as far as I can tell is a forest with a giant garden.  It is whole food heaven.  Their Farmer’s Markets are bigger than their towns.  There were many local food restaurants.  Like I said, everything I want to be when I grow up.  Although, I now question whether I could pick my own pineapple.  But if I could eat 90% local, I think I’d live.  I would not want to be deemed “extreme”.

Do I use “quotes” too much?

I think I might.

We set up Skype last night for the kids little sister.  It amazes me how much she is like Boog.  The sister and Boog would be pegged for twins before he and the Princess.  But her mannerisms are like his too, although she appears to be a night owl, which is so not Boog.  He’s that child who puts himself to bed at 8:00 – which is nice, unless you miss that window of willingness and move right into overtired pest.  Once we get there, watch out. It’s not pretty.

Which brings me to Marcus Buckingham who is pretty, but whose books I’m listening to on audible.com basically asking me to define what I like about my “job” and what sucks the life out of me in my job.  Bedtime is definitely a soul sucking endeavor around here.  So, I have to ask myself.  Is this soul sucking endeavor something that is necessary in my job?

Hmmmm?

Not technically, I mean I could just let them wander until they fall over.  Call it “unparenting”.  But then again, because I have to send them to gov’ment schools they have to get up in the morning and need sleep so, yes, bedtime is probably a necessary part of my job.

Hopefully, he’ll cover how to make it less soul sucking.  I’ll let you know.

Until then, I will make myself happy by cooking.  And guess what is in the July/August issue of the Food Network Magazine?  A Chik-Fil-A copy cat.  If you were Skyping me right now, you could see my happy dance.  I think I may try it for lunch.

Barefoot running is still happening.  Although the past four days I’ve felt like I’ve been hit by a truck.  Which was only slightly worrisome until someone asked me if I’d gotten bitten by a tick in the forest.  I would know that, right?  I do not want to be debilitated by ninja tick, at least give me the satisfaction of burning it with a magnifying glass.  I have thus far, resisted the urge to Google it.  The Google is not always your friend.

Also, for all y’all Googling “Women of Faith, San Antonio”  I have tickets.  Click that blue button on the sidebar.  You’ll be in the coolest group there.

Well, I’m hungry for Chick-fil-A so I have to go buy something called malted milk powder.  What are the chances that my grocer will have it?

Bwahahahahahahahaha

Hormonal dive bomb if you must.

Apparently my body has once again figured out it is, yet again, not pregnant.

We’ve gone over this body.  Your baby days are over.  Because babies turn in to kids, and kids drive me crazy.

“Yes, I know he’s breathing, it’s required.  If you don’t want him breathing on you get off his face.”

Also, annoyed with my monthly visitor.

CPS

They called this morning saying they were “45 minutes out” – 90 minutes later they still hadn’t arrived.  By the time they did, the orphans were in prime form as I had promised them we’d do something once CPS had come and gone.  It was not ten minutes in when the princess reported that she did not want her mouth washed out with soap.

What?

Apparently, the new CPS worker told Princess she had better watch her mouth or she’d wash it out with soap.

I’ve been cited for less.

Maybe, if I were allowed to do a little more, she would have less of a mouth on her.  But, whatever.  Consider it documented.

No one was in a good mood when they finally left.

I’ve learned a new secret.  After 12 years of marriage I have decided to tell Tech Support when I’m in a bitchy mood.  You know, instead of waiting for him to figure it out after I’ve punched him in the larynx for breathing.

Turns out it works.

And I get ice cream.

Although I had to leave early from that, because the nuns were bothering me.

What were the nuns doing to bother me?

Breathing.

and talking.

You know the place that has 31 flavors?  Also had 31 nuns in it tonight, even though the place was clearly only meant for three.

I have the super power of eaves dropping.

Tech Support is deaf.

As we were leaving we were discussing their presence.  He had been quietly wondering why so many nuns would be gathered in one thirty-one-derful place.

He waited patiently until we were outside instead of asking

“WHAT THE HELL IS UP WITH ALL THE NUNS?”

Because he’s deaf, he usually talks in capital letters, and more loudly than necessary.

It was God’s grace that made him deaf and me blind, because I would have totally asked

“WHAT THE HELL IS UP WITH ALL THE NUNS?”

Had I seen them that is (Thank you Jesus for lasik)

They were graduating from nun school.  Just taken their vows or whatever.  Although, none of them were wearing rings, so I guess they hadn’t married Jesus yet.

Did I not learn that on Oprah?

I think I did.  I think I learned on Oprah that nuns marry Jesus.  I don’t know.  Oprah people remind me.

Anyway, the nuns were breathing and I was feeling bitchy so we left.

Only to arrive at home, ready to watch Burn Notice, to find out that our orphan minder had stopped it recording.

Really?

You can’t, I don’t know, WATCH THE KIDS instead of the tv?  Since I’m paying you an entire day of “reimbursement” for four measly hours of “work”.

Whatever

She has siblings adopted from foster care, so she at least understands that I can’t wash their mouths out with soap,

or tell them to stop breathing.

Well, that’s not exactly true.  Tech Support and I are going in for psychological testing, and results and dealing with the results.  So, that’s what, another year? Well, three sessions, we are awesome after all.

I believe we are going in for Temperament tests.  Because, here’s a shocker.  We’re all different,  and sometimes…..I get on other peoples nerves.  Not that he complains.  I would, however, like to get on his nerves less.

OK, before I forget, You have the right to remain silent.  PLEASE, for the love of God, utilize it.  Let’s just say that somebody who shall remain nameless did not and I wanted to kick that someone in the head.

and that is why I’m in therapy in the first place.

Anyway

Do I get to drink when I say ‘anyway’?

What else is happening?

Tech Support and I celebrated our 12th wedding anniversary while we were on vacation.  We’ve been happily married for 10.2 years, it’s very nice.

We went camping in Oregon.  Yes, camping….and I actually enjoyed it.  Partly because I had a climate controlled RV at my disposal, and partly because my husband didn’t shave for 10 days.  I am a blessed girl.  I think my first book will be “How to be an Awesome traveler” because we do it so well.  Sure we lost a kid in security, but we have extras so no big deal.

People have been asking about the orphans not being orphans for much longer.  I don’t know.  Our caseworker had to call us and ask who had been assigned to do the home study.  Yes, for reals.  Maybe I’m ignorant, but didn’t YOU assign the home study to someone? Or maybe someone MADE A NOTE about it….I don’t know.  So, for now, we are padding our cash reserves with the major scrilla we get from the state.

well, that’s the randomness that is today.  When I wake up tomorrow afternoon, I’ll write something cohesive.  Until then, I’m going to listen to self help books on the iPod while I sleep.  Because the brain never sleeps and I can double my productivity.  Do you people not watch late night infomercials…..

I woke up this morning thinking it was Wednesday.

I was wrong.

I had lost a day.

In the woods.

That’s right people.  I’m camping.  A requirement when they hand you boys.

For the past, unknown number of days, we have been roughing it.  And by roughing it, I  mean living in a 29 foot RV with heat and air conditioning.

There are eight of us in here.  We have a one butt kitchen.  There have been some awkward moments with the father-in-law…just saying.

Princess, as you know is all girl.  Also, a drama queen.  What happens when you mix a princess, with a drama queen, with camping.

OH.  MY.  HAIL.  I’m dirty. I’m sticky. I blah blah blah.  Yes, it’s called camping.  DEAL.

The boys however, are in heaven.  Hea-ven.  The have swirled up a dust cloud that follows them everywhere.  They are playing with fire, and peeing on trees.  Single handedly setting back civilization about 100 years.  You’re welcome.

And, the other roughing it part?  No internet.  I have 3G access on the phone, because ATT covers the forest. It does not cover the ROAD in the forest where I might need it if I have a flat tire and need to call AAA.  But the forest is covered.

Anyway.  I appreciate you all voting for me, despite my absence.  I am going crazy.   I’m a bit of a control freak.  But I love you all and trust you are voting like mad.

When I get back, I will tell you all about how boys like to give you the play by play on everything.  Even pooping.  I’m thinking of calling it “Elvis has left the building” but I haven’t decided for sure.

xoxo

See you if Big Foot doesn’t see me first.

Anyway

We were chatting tonight.  Like a lot of nights.

And

I nearly died.

Now, had I actually died from the incident.  It might not have been the most glamorous exit from mortality.  So, we agreed on my cover story.

I was saving a grandma, who was saving a kid, who was rescuing a kitten from a dog in a car that was on fire.  FIRE.

Seems much more interesting than “forgot how to eat and choked on a sixlet.  A.  Sixlet.”

At least I’m pretty.

and funny.  Did I mention that?

I even crack myself up.

Today, I got myself with a “that’s what she said”.

Then

You know when you go to open the garage door and it doesn’t go up, it goes down because it was opened like an inch.

I made a funny joke from that today.

I don’t think I should tell you.  Because in the context it is normally used in, NOT true.

But, out of context, like in the garage,….no I better not.

I’m in a funk.

I don’t feel like I’ve accomplished a thing this week.

I’m sure I have.  No kids have left the house naked. So, that’s something.  They are all near death from hunger, for some reason they are never hungry until two seconds before bedtime.  It’s very curious because they can find 1001 reasons not to eat at dinner time.

Which is why giraffe eat their young.

If you can tell me that reference, you win a car.  I’ll have to dig one out of the couch cushions, but it’s yours.

Apparently, the Hanta Virus is getting to me.  I had to go into the attic today and retrieve luggage for a future trip.  I think that I saw mouse droppings.   So you know I’m gonna die of the Hanta Virus, soon.

But, stick to the story about the grandma, the kid, the kitten, the dog and the car that was on fire.  And if you want to add “speeding into a school” I’m ok with that.