influential weightloss plan

It was the early ’90s at my very first job out of college. I’d been lucky enough to find a friend and mentor in the newsroom who not only understood what it was like to want to prove yourself, but what it was like to prove yourself as a young woman among grizzled old men. OK, so they were only in their late 30s and mid-40s, but when you’re 22 that IS old! My pal had been around sports departments for a long time, in an age when women just weren’t found there, and she was a great help to me.

She also was a bit of the social nerve center of the place. Working for a weekly magazine, we had bankers hours four out of five days a week, pretty sweet deal in the journalism world. So lunch plans usually filtered through her desk and we would all gather there before we left to go eat … until the day she proudly announced she was starting Weight Watchers. (This was the old days, folks. There were no points, no eating out. You weighed it. You ate it. It counted. Period.) For the rest of us that suddenly meant no K.C. Masterpiece. No Steak N Shake. No Tippins. Oh No! But we were friends and we wanted to be supportive and, while sometimes takeout crept onto the lunchroom table, her efforts to lose weight made all of us healthier as we started bringing our lunches. We even discovered a very nice picnic table on a patio in a courtyard behind our office.

So sometimes we ate out. Sometimes we ate in. We almost always ate together. And one person’s healthier habits rubbed off on the rest of us. The same is true at the family table. When you’re talking about school, sports, friends or vacation plans you’re not thinking about what you’re eating. (Translation: When Capt. Kindergarten is listening to us talk about his aunt and uncle’s house in Oklahoma he accidentally takes in vegetables without thinking to pitch a fit! LOL) So healthier habits are formed … more on him in particular next post.

Sitting down together with colleagues allows friendships to be born, networks to be formed, information to be exchanged and sometimes sales to be made. Sitting down together at home allows parents to have regular conversations with their kids, to monitor their behaviors and moods and to put structure and stability into their lives. Plus this perk for those of you with daughters: Research shows that adolescent and teen-aged girls who frequently shared mealtime with their families were less likely to fall into unhealthy habits and possible eating disorders. They also were less likely to show signs of depression or other psychological disorders.

A side-order of good mental health never hurt anybody. The sun’s poking through the clouds today … maybe Capt. Kindergarten and I will eat outside before he goes to school … unless he orders grilled cheese!

Lunchbox tricks my kids love:

Just say no to the sandwich: I offer a wrap or cubed cheeses and rolled deli meat with carrot sticks, cherry tomatoes, sliced raw mushrooms, ranch dip, assorted crackers and a big thermos of chocolate milk. (usually there’s something junky, too, such as a HoHo).

Just say no to the sandwich II: Assorted crackers and breadsticks, peanut butter, apple slices, yogurt, a big thermos of milk and something junky such as Fruit Gushers.

Warm me up, Scotty! Campbell’s hearty soups, Spaghettios or leftovers work well in the Thermos cups. Toss in a “butter sandwich,” as the second-grader calls them, a thermos of milk and something sweet such as a pudding pack or fruit cup and it’s a meal.

Brunch, Baby! I learned this one from a friend and it’s a fun change. A container of cereal, the thermos of milk, a piece of fruit and a cup of yogurt. When they eat what I call a farmer’s breakfast in the morning (eggs, toast, juice, milk, etc.) why not have a surprise in the lunch box?

And for hubby when he brings? Roast beef on multi-grain bread with pepper-jack cheese. Turkey and Swiss on a jalepeno bagel. PB and J on a wheat bagel. Leftovers don’t transport well in a backpack on a motorcycle. We keep his lunches compact and dry. LOL

february for friends and family

They say February is for lovers. Ha. As I set myself to copy the dry-erase board info into the paper calendar I’ll hold onto I’m amazed at the gatherings we shared this month.

Dinner with a friend who just loves when my kids invade her house … mostly because her dog sleeps in the next day, worn out from six smallish feet in constant motion. When Hershey sleeps in, my friend gets to, too. Hooraay! The adults spend time catching up on each others’ families, work and the other tidbits that make life interesting. Ingredients move through a process, but none of us is really thinking about it.

Dinner with my husband’s buddy and his family is always fun because the kids get along so well. We fed them first while my friend and I talked and the guys worked on a “garage project” under the welcoming warmth of some extra lights. When the guys were cleaned up the adults sat down to a second wave of the same meal while the kids curled up in front of the warm glow of a DVD on TV. Ingredients move through a process, but none of us is really thinking about it.

The church potluck gave us a chance to learn more about people we pass every week as they drop their kids off for class. Crock-Pots and Rubbermaid are lined up, emptied, cleaned up, carried, but none of us is really thinking about it.

A family birthday celebration, catching up on the news and laughing again at stories we know well. The spread rivaled any Christmas feast you could imagine, but the conversation across generations was really cooking!

Bunco night with the neighborhood moms left ears ringing with laughter after the fun. Dips and dippers, sweets and treats traveled to paper plates and High-Low tables. We all enjoyed this potluck, too, but none of us was really thinking about it. We were rolling the dice!

A scrapbooking day with friends always requires some snacks and beverages, maybe something a bit more hardy, too. But what we take away from the day is what we learn watching each other work … the pictures of a Disney Trip or of a wedding … the baby pictures belonging to a child I’ve only known since she was 10 … family history as it unfolds in a black-and-white album. Working like this opens up conversations that might not happen otherwise … so what if you’ve got a Twinkie in your mouth!

Sure Hubby and I took some quiet time to celebrate this month, but February isn’t just for lovers. Any kind of gathering can happen any time. I think a lot about gatherings this time of year. At our house it’s what we call “Birthday Season.” All of our kids will be another year older in the next few weeks. But I’ve got one thought left to share on these “non-traditional” family meals.

Who did you eat with this weekend?

title tradition starts at table

You don’t have to be related to sit down together for a regular meal. Just look at the championship traditions that fuel the Driscoll Catholic Highlanders of Addison, Ill. This suburban Chicago high school football team has won a record six consecutive state championships. I don’t think the whole secret is in Mike Burzawa’s game plan. I think part of the secret is in the power of tradition.

At a cost of about $500 a week during the football season a team of football moms gets together to prepare a weekly dinner, as well as a breakfast on game day.

“We serve pasta, chicken, bread, salad, and our super special secret cake that one mom has made every week for about 10 years,” a proud Highlander mom wrote me. “It’s awesome!

“Sometimes the dinners are held at a player's house, sometimes at school. It doesn’t matter where. They are all very warmly appreciated.”

On game day after morning prayer, the team lines up for the breakfast buffet. Just as Coach Burzawa guards the secrets of the game plan, none of these moms is going to give up the secrets of the menu that has fueled so many title runs.

“Can’t tell anyone what we serve for breakfast along with bagels, muffins, cereal, breads etc. ...,” the Highlander mom wrote. “Each year varies just a little bit, but we always make sure that the boys get what they want.

“One year, Justin would only eat Lucky Charms before a game, so someone was in charge of making sure that there was always a box of Lucky Charms for him. Last year I was in charge of making sure Dave always had extra cream cheese. One year, we were not allowed to serve purple Gatorade!

“We serve them … wait on them, even dote on them. And yes, it is worth every single minute,” she continued. These gatherings are as important to the players as they are to the parents who support them. It is a special time together that has become an important thread in an amazing football tapestry. And this mom found an added bonus.

“When my son became a teenager, I thought for sure that he wouldn't even acknowledge my presence in public," she wrote. "Let alone give me a hug or a kiss. But our boys don't mind. They stand in line to give the moms a hug and to say thank you. No one cares that it isn't 'cool' to show affection to us. It's really a beautiful thing.”

com·mun·ion: n · an act or instance of sharing; a Christian sacrament; an intimate fellowship or rapport

“It turned out really good!” said the coordinator of our second-grade potluck luncheon. She was thanking everyone for doing their part and we were thanking her for pulling it all together. As moms we had taken our places behind the buffet, making certain no one under 48 inches tried to reach into the hot Crock-Pots at the back of the table, their cords straining to reach the wall outlets. Regardless of whose child it was, we worked together as they went down the line. “Why don’t you eat that and you can always come back for more,” one mom said to another’s kid as he tried to top an overloaded bowl of mac-and-cheese. “Try a little bit of this,” another mom said to a fourth mom’s child. “If you don’t like it, just leave it at the side of your plate.”

Aaah. Teamwork.

Our pastor got everyone to quiet down for a prayer before we ate, and I did the obligatory sneak-a-peek when my head was supposed to be bowed and my eyes were supposed to be closed. It’s just amazing what can happen when we come together for a meal.

Plates filled and portions monitored, moms moved from behind the buffet table to fill up for ourselves, then we found a place to sit. The kids were all around one table, laughing and eating and enjoying a kind of time together they don’t get in Sunday classes. Several groups of parents had scattered around the room, but some put down their forks and grabbed their cups so we could fill in at one table. We talked about how close we are to the kids celebrating their First Communion, about purchasing suits and white dresses and planning parties for family and friends who will share the day with our children.

There’s so much you can learn over the course of a meal together. It’s a fact of life. We gather to eat. And when we do, the eating is secondary … though recipes were swapped, as they are at any potluck. We all know we’re not supposed to talk with our mouths full, but we didn’t care. This was a chance to learn about each other and we wanted to take advantage of that.

This weekend in that same room more than 50 Crock-Pots will be plugged into every imaginable outlet. Some volunteers won’t even bring food. They'll bring labeled extension cords and power strips all in the hopes of keeping the food hot for their guests. Other volunteers will bring clothing donations, or sweets to follow up the soups and stews that are served. More than 300 disadvantaged men and women are expected to gather in that church hall for food and conversation provided by parishioners.

For food AND conversation. Normally I wouldn't bring religion into this space, but I was especially intrigued when I found the primary definition of the word communion at Webster.com. So often this word is associated with Christianity and with ... well ... eating. But above all else, the word means to share ... and what you're sharing isn't specified in the definition. Thinking about last Saturday, and knowing what's to come this Saturday, sharing ourselves, and accepting what others offer us, is what mealtime can really be about. It’s amazing what we have in common when we take the time to look for it. Who will you eat with this week?

it's good to be hip again

Dear friend, how long you sat at the back of my cabinet, undervalued, underutilized, full of promise. Your predecessor, not up for the task of cooking for five, went the way of the garage sale after a few go-rounds with some chili or with some spaghetti sauce. But you, dear friend, like a soldier you not only answer the call but you rise to the occasion each time you are asked to serve. Out from behind the vegetable steamer you come forth to make my days easier and my family’s stomachs full.

There was a time when you and your kind were regarded as relics, leftovers from a bygone era of one-car families and stay-at-home moms. Your ancestors brought forth countless sauces and soups only to be cursed at the sink as they soaked. Unlike you and the rest of your generation, they were not so completely built for ease of use. Three cheers for the designer who saw fit to bring us the removable liner!

And so I say thank you, dear Crock-Pot. For, in these busy Arctic evenings and amid rising grocery prices, you provide a way to consistently feed my family good food. Last night some sliced pork tenderloin, a bottle of K.C. Masterpiece and thee was all it took to make them smile. (OK, so there were sandwich rolls and green beans, too, but they’d have been nothing without your magic!) Tomorrow you’ll perch yourself proudly at a church potluck, bearing forth the forgiving surprise of beans and weenies to a gathering of relieved children. “At last, in this spread of other mothers’ recipes, something we recognize.” They won’t say it, but they’ll think it. And while I’ll come home satisfied by the delicious treats prepared by others, you, my dear, likely will come home empty … testimony to the power of simplicity.

I dream of filling you with elegant ingredients so as to bear them forth in a wealth of amazing soups. And yet, like me, you face the routine of favorite dishes that land on the weekly menu. Together we’ll march on, though your power dial might crack and your handles might be stained. Onward, onward dear Crock-Pot, until this winter finally decides to end and I can eat salad again.

Easy-peasy dinner
2-3 lbs. pork tenderloin, trimmed and sliced super thin
1 large bottle K.C. Masterpiece Original BBQ Sauce
Hard rolls or hamburger buns
Grated cheddar cheese*

Chips or Ore-Ida fries
Canned veggie or salad or veggies and dip

Place pork in Crock-Pot and cover with sauce. Cook on low about 3 hours. Serve on rolls with grated cheddar cheese.

*(Thanks to Billy’s on the Square … one of my favorite lunch spots when I lived in Tulsa, Okla. Ever since, I simply must have cheddar cheese with my hickory BBQ sauced products. Yum! Somehow, it’s become Tulsa week here at TIS. First Mary’s, now this. Hmmm … anybody know the secret to Bill and Ruth’s sauce?)

tick tock tick tock time

There are lots and lots of ways to measure time. AM, PM, AD, BC … BCE as they call it now. I prefer BK and SK … before kids and since kids. They do change everything. When we were BK we didn’t eat together as often as those I always referred to as “normal people.” We had opposite hours, long commutes, overtime. We had meals together when somebody had a day off. He would wait up and we would have dinner delivered at 12:30 a.m. some Saturdays. Needless to say, we’re older now and can’t eat that late anymore. But, really and truly, I think our favorite meal in the BK years was Sunday breakfast. Actually, it was brunch, but not the fancy kind. Diner food. Yummm. Chili and a burger at the bar near our house. Yummm. Then in good weather he would walk me to work and that was the end of our weekend together.

Cooking for two was always hard. Usually I made food that reheated easily because I would take some to work and he would eat his when he got home. Sauteed vegetables were a big treat. It meant we had time to cook together and eat together all in the same day. Now, in the heart of the SK years, these are the only kinds of meals we share just the two of us. We go out to eat, just the two of us, only a few times a year. So we started to make dinner for two happen at home on days like today, Valentine’s Day, by sharing a special dinner after the kids are in bed. It’s a simple recipe we tend to prepare, but it seems like such indulgence. Some steamed broccoli or asparagus on the side. Yummm.

After all, two, no matter who, is a gathering too.

Champagne Chicken
Mary’s Trattoria, 1313 E. 15^th St., Tulsa, Okla.

2 6-oz. boneless, skinless chicken breasts
¼ cup flour, sprinkled with garlic, salt & pepper
2 Tbsps. butter
2 Tbsps. olive oil
½ cup sliced mushrooms
4 oz. champagne
4 oz. heavy cream
cooked fettucine

Place chicken breasts between two layers of plastic wrap and flatten to ¼-inch thickness. Dredge chicken in seasoned flour and shake off excess. Place oil and butter in sauté pan and bring to medium heat. Place chicken, smooth side down, in heated oil. Sauté 2 minutes. Turn chicken, add mushrooms and champagne and sauté 2 minutes. Add heavy cream and simmer 8-10 minutes Arrange over cooked fettucine and sprinkle with chopped parsley.

savoring smooth sailing

Well this, too, has passed. The candidate left my front porch under the weight of a couple thousand stuffed envelopes. This task is behind us, but it’s an April election so the next six weeks could be full of last minute tasks for women known to be willing to volunteer.

The housework was moved under the volunteer heading on my to-do list because, well, I really didn’t want some of the women helping me seeing how I aCtuAllY live! But it was just overdue dusting, etc., and so it came and went quickly once I settled into doing it. We even found most of the carpeting in the boys’ rooms, Mr. 7 did the work himself :)

The third-grade book report will be turned in right on time today, along with Valentines and the obligatory decorated box. I sure hope Capt. Kindergarten and I get to “play karate” today. I woke up a bit stiff and grumpy so the movement would serve me well.

The Sudafed Pez Dispenser has slowed to about four squeezes a day. Everyone is on the tail end of the cold now, just in time for another hit of winter weather, which puts a question mark over the classroom parties set for tomorrow, but we room moms are ready. Now we’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?

But what’s been so nice about the past few days is the empowerment that comes from doing something with someone else. Sure, we could have split up the materials, stuffed the envelopes individually at home and returned them to the candidate. And we might not have stuffed them any faster as a group, but the time went by faster as we talked about transitioning to middle school, the price of groceries, planning summer trips, etc. The cleaning, too, went by quickly because each kid straitened up a bedroom while hubby and I worked on ours. The work that went into dinner with friends both Saturday and Sunday nights seemed to fly by, as did the meals, because of the conversations that zipped over the kids’ heads as they moved through the kitchen.

And this is part of the joy in the family meal. The food, as I’ve said before, is secondary. It’s the gathering that we look forward to. That is why I was so touched when my old roommate stopped by this space and shared her memories of those Thursday nights in the early ’90s. Sometimes you just have to stop, take a deep breath, and celebrate what you have. No books, no boyfriends, no resume mailing. Nothing but us, the food we could scrounge up and NBC TV. Good times. And with all the emphasis on romantic connections this week, maybe we should take a deep breath and savor the many other connections in our lives … the lunches with friends, the date-night rendezvous that leaves the kids at home, the girlfriends toasting each other at happy hour, the guys still reveling in that Colts victory, the kid-friendly Valentine’s Day dinner for four. The list could go on forever. Help me out. Who will you eat with this week?

message in a bottle

Awash in volunteer activities.

Stuffing envelopes for friend’s mayoral campaign.

Helping Capt. Kindergarten practice karate.

Fishing for junk food for classroom parties.

Working on third-grade book report.

Drowning under wave of housework.

Seeking carpeting in boys’ messy rooms.

Passing out (and taking!) lots and lots of Sudafed.

Back as soon as possible.

Eat well. Eat together. Eat happy!

celebrate having each other

Sometimes when I talk to people about eating as a family they become defensive. I think too often as moms or as women we have a tendency to listen to others talk about their family habits and measure ourselves against that standard. Other times I think we often measure ourselves against terms such as “the conventional family” or “traditional roles” you know … the political yibber yabber that tries to turn how we live day-to-day into a hot-button campaign issue. Eating together is nothing more than the celebration of having each other. It’s not complicated. And it doesn’t require any specific person in your life. A family meal is newlyweds sitting down together. A family meal is everybody home from college. Good grief, a family meal for me when I was IN college was each of the four of us making something off of “our own shelf” and sitting together in front of Cheers and L.A. Law on a Thursday night.

So, while I was going to celebrate the fact that two can be family, too, this month, I think there’s enough emphasis on pairing off this time of year. Instead, I think I’m going to look at “non-traditional families.” No. No. No. Not the political yibber yabber kind. The kind that’s the same gang of guys gathering annually for the Super Bowl. The kind that’s the high school cheer squad at Starbucks every day from 2:30 to 3:15. The kind that’s cooking just for two. The kind that’s a Lion’s Club frying fish.

We come together to eat. We don’t even think twice about it. Let’s celebrate!