She Likes Purple

What To Do in Grapevine, TX: Try the Lemon Drop Pancakes at Old West Cafe

I don't really like pancakes. Now, I don't dislike them. Make me a batch and I'll eat them, swear it, but if I'm ordering breakfast, I'm very, very rarely going to choose pancakes over French toast or an omelet or anything else on the menu.

But, it was my dad's last morning in town on Saturday, so we took him to breakfast, and Mike picked a place he had been recently with some family, and I split a dish with my dad and let him pick what it was. We were in a crowded restaurant with lots of kitschy things on the wall and sticky tables. A family joint, you know? Where the food is never bad, but you don't expect your mind to be blown because it's cheap and loud and your kid can throw jelly packets on the floor without too many people glaring.

Except, this place? Kind of blew my mind with the one particular dish my dad picked.

The lemon drop pancakes, which no one would give me the recipe for, of course. I do know they were the size of my head and tasted like a buttery lemon pound cake with sweet syrup drizzled on top. Oh, they were just so good. I imagine this is why people love pancakes! Only took me nearly 30 years to figure that out.

I don't know why you'd ever be in Grapevine, TX (although that is where the DFW airport is located, so maybe on a long layover?), but if you ever are, give me a call first -- don't just come to town without calling! -- but also definitely try these pancakes.

Kyle, Now

He pretends he's not going to kiss me goodbye when I'm nearly out the door to work. "Ok, I guess I'll go then, buds, without any kisses" and then he comes barrelling at me, yelling "kisses and hugs, mommy, kisses and hugs." And he laughs and laughs. He thinks he's nearly fooled me and he finds himself hilarious.

He is so stubborn and so particular and I spend a lot of my Executive Parenting Time choosing my battles and there are many I just won't fight. He sleeps in his shoes, sometimes, because that's what he wants. He wears a shirt two days in a row because that's what he wants. He wears his scooter helmet around the house and at dinner and even to Walmart because that's what he wants. The other night he wouldn't eat his pizza and he wouldn't let me eat it because he was saving it for Molly. Ok, then, buds. Whatever. Give the dog the food your MOTHER wanted. I'll roll with it.

He kisses me when I say ouch, no matter why. The other day he told me he had already given me a hug goodnight, so he didn't need to give me another, so I said, "Ouch, buddy." (As in, OUCH, MY HEART, GOOD GOD CHILD.) He said, without pause, "Kiss it, make it better, mommy?"

At A'Dell's house the other night, baby Charlotte was crying and he said, "It's ok, baby. It's ok."

Molly knocked him flat over the other night, accidentally, and he looked right at me and said, "I fine I fine." Then, to Molly, "Molly, BE CAREFUL."

He has a look that is my sister, through and through, an "oh fuck off" look.

He loves books so much, just like me, but he also has this perfect combination of toughness and sweetness that is so beautifully and heartbreakingly Mike. And Kyle doesn't know to be self-conscious of any part of that personality yet, so he is who he is so unapologetically and it's the most beautiful balance I've ever witnessed. I've only ever seen it in his father, and only when he thinks no one is looking.

He says "open in it" instead of "open it." And "ambulanlance" with the extra syllable that keeps him so close to a baby still. But not.

He's done this thing for a while now, this sweet thing when he's recovering from being in trouble or when he's sleepy or when it's a little too quiet in a room. He looks at me, smiles softly, and says, "Hi, mommy." Sometimes he pats my arm or my back or my head. "Hi, mommy." And that's it. He goes back to whatever he was doing before. It's as if he's just making sure of me, making sure I'm still there, still seeing him, still his mom, and I know he will stop doing it without warning one day because that's just how parenting goes. Stupid, mean parenting.

Like so many days and phases and different versions of Kyle that came before, I wish I could bottle this version and uncork it in a year or two or ten to re-live how incredible two-year-old Kyle is. I wish memories were more reliable. There's a chance I might not remember today or yesterday or the day before at all, and I'll have only photos, fuzzy recollections, and a blog to jog the memories loose.

So, for as long as I can manage, I want to remember that when he looked at me and said, "Hi, Mommy," I looked back and said, "Hi, Buds," and I was never, ever, ever happier than I was then.

Than I am now.

Food Lush on Facebook!

Speaking of food, Food Lush is all grown-up! It has a Facebook page, which officially means it's big time. Or maybe it means we created a Facebook page for it. The former sounds better, so let's go with that.

We'll include links to our posts and other fun, internet, food finds, so if Facebook is your social media drug site of choice, give us a "like" and follow along.

Food Lush on Facebook!

(And a big, huge amount of thanks for your continued support for both Lush sites.)

Summer of Fail

My Vegan Summer is no more. I could list a dozen reasons why this wasn't the right time for an experiment that requires a lot of thought and planning, both of which I don't seem to have or be able to make right now, but, in short, I was eating far crappier than I was a few short months ago. This is because I would get so hungry, I'd just allow myself to overeat, even if I was only eating hummus and chips. I was exhausted, all the time, because I wasn't eating the right foods, and forget about good work-outs. I'd run a mile and want to collapse. I also had these little bruises all over my body, which might not be related, but certainly could be.

Now, I'm not blaming a vegan diet on any of this, not at all, but on my own shortcomings in tackling this diet the right way. This is a really hardcore lifetsyle, and one I respect quite a lot, truly, but it's just not one I can swing right now.

Anyway, maybe one day (maybe one day soon, even) but not right now. This feels like the Summer of Fail, which sucks, I hate quitting things, but I also hate being miserable and feeling like the work isn't worth the reward, so I'm trying to focus on quitting as a good thing (for now).

Weight-loss and health is some tough shit, hate to be a foul-mouthed Master of the Obvious, but as soon as I have a big breakthrough on something, I have a day (or week?) of screw-ups and poor choices. It can certainly feel like a constant dance of two steps foward, two steps back, I'M RIGHT WHERE I STARTED, can't it? I wonder if that ever gets easier or better or less of a struggle?

I've talked ad naseum about all this, both from the frustrated stance of someone stuck in a rut of bad habits to the celebratory stance of someone who's Rocking It, and sometimes I'm both those people in the same week. My archives are just bursting with my thoughts on my thighs, and, trust me, it's just as annoying to write one more post on the subject as it is to read one more post, but that's kind of the point, right? I mean, it IS annoying, but it's also a universal annoyance. One so many of us experience, and so many of us need to let ourselves off the hook for.

We're all losing weight and gaining it, trying to figure out the magic trick that works best for our individual souls and our individiaul asses.

Sometimes we're frustrated and sometimes we Rock It.

Sometimes we quit and sometimes we soar.

If we can't be real about the one, celebrating the other is far less sweet.

What Would We Do?

Wow, thank you to each and every one of you for your comments and emails about my crazy idea. I've been thinking a lot more on this and also talking to a lot of smart people and making Google spreadsheets so, yeah, it's early and this could be a 2013-kind-of event, but I still have a good feeling about it. A scary, what-the-hell, am-I-crazy? good feeling, but a good feeling all the same.

I have added all of you who offered up your help to one of those aforementioned spreadsheets, so you'll likely regret your (too kind) offer soon enough, but I shall make it worth your while with ... gratitude? Cupcakes? Champagne? Something, for sure.

There's a semi-famous question I hear often, that goes, if you knew you couldn't fail, what would you do? I'd do a lot, truth be told, and one thing would be to do this, to figure out and fine-tune this cause and then throw a big, fun event to celerbate that cause. Maybe I'll fail anyway, we'll see, but you don't have to be good at everything right? (Oh man, I hope not.) You just have to be willing to find out, I think.

So, tell me, what would you do? If you knew you could do it?

So, I Have This Idea

Since Kyle turned 8 weeks old and my own clouds lifted, I've felt a need to do something for new moms, especially for those moms who are feeling crazed, anxious, and exhausted with the beautiful (but oh-so overwhelming) responsibility of being a parent. Kyle had colic, and that contributed to those first two months being so hard, and I also had anxiety-induced insomnia, so he screamed during the day and I was awake all night, and I felt like I lost my mind a little bit.

What was harder than all that, though, was the feeling that no one really understood. No one looked at me and said, "I get it, and you're doing great," and when I sum up that time I can think of only one word: lonely. I'd walk around my house, even when it was filled with people, and I'd just feel alone. I'd look at Mike from across the room and ache. I'd scream and cry and break down and instead of feeling cared for, I'd feel judged.

Because of those two, hard months, my advice to any parent would be to find a community, find a group of people you click and connect with and trust and just talk to them, often and honestly. Find a church, a mom's group, a book club filled with other parents, a blog community that you can take offline, anything at all that will let you feel part of a group. And to the women out there whose friends are having babies, take them food, a bottle of wine, a DVD, look them in the eyes and tell them they are rockstars and that if it sucks, you get it, and it won't suck forever.

With all that said, I've still felt this need to do something to help new moms. I feel it's my cause, as kind of cheesy as that sounds, but beyond that feeling, I've been completely at a loss as to what to do.

I wanted to raise money for new moms for my upcoming half-marathon, but how? Who do I decide to give the money to? Do I just take donations and then choose where it goes? That felt shady.

I've thought about organizing a site of resources for friends and family of new moms to more easily provide food and house cleaning and restaurant gift cards for the new moms in their lives, but that felt vague and weird and who do you specifically market to? And it's not brand new information, it'd just be consolidating information already out there, so that's not exactly a new service.

Then, over the weekend, I was reading a running magazine and there was an article on starting your own race. I thought, okay, yeah, this could be awesome. Picking a cause (post-partum depression, single mothers, or something like that), and then trying to organize a race to raise money for that cause.

That sounds like kind of an insane amount of work, yes it does, and I do have a job and a family and a very full DVR queue, but how incredible would it be to pull off? It combines something I've had a longing to do (provide support for new moms) and something I credit with helping me become the mother I am today (running) into one cool event.

Still, this could takes years and years and then not happen anyway. This could be a really stupid undertaking, in hindsight. But, if someone told me today that it would happen one day, I'd start working, so I figure that's a sign to start working anyway.

My dad was a race director for years, so I'll be picking his brain when he comes to town for a visit this week, but you're the smartest people on the internet, so I'd love to know what you think. Do you have any thoughts or advice or resources you could share? People you know who I could talk with? Maybe you could pass this link around to other smart people? I wouldn't ask if I didn't think we could make a really cool thing happen here. So thank you.

I truly believe it takes a village to raise a happy child, but more than that, it takes the right village. I want to organize the right group and the right event for the moms out there who don't yet have that village.

I hope you'll help me.

Grateful

Of all the things I am grateful for in this life, and there are a million-plus things, giving this boy this dad is at the very tip-top of the list.

Words aren't going to ever do you justice, babe, but your son has your stubborn streak, your love of motorcycles and mac-and-cheese, and the same kindness that made me fall in love with you.

A few more things I'm grateful for.

Happy Father's Day, Mike.

Whiplash

He was this...

And then he was this...

I promised myself long ago I'd never be sadder about then than I am happy about now, yet I still can't believe how tricky time can be. Slow-as-molasses days and quick-as-an-eye-blink years.

How does that add up?

Sometimes, when he looks at me, I can feel him growing up right before my eyes and it's both miraculous and scary as hell. No no no, stop stop stop, is my instinct, but my instinct is all wrong when it comes to this.

The brief stabs of pain watching him grow means that things are exactly as they should be. It means that, oh thank god, I'm one of the luckiest ones.

But, damn, wasn't he JUST THIS?

I'm all about embracing things as they are, age, time, life, yada yada, but you should know I'm doing all that embracing while staying slightly unconvinced I'm not being punked. HAHA, you still have a two-month-old, JUST KIDDING ABOUT THAT TODDLER, WE GOT YOU!

I'd totally believe them, too. Totally.

New Places on My "Must Visit" List

1. Philadelphia. I hear it's THE up-and-coming food city and I really like food.

2. Asheville, N.C. Mike would like to move here one day. If he's going to talk me into such craziness, I should see the place, right? 

3. Banff

4. Argentina

5. Nashville

6. Washington, DC. For all that history, sure, but also to meet Caitlin (and other awesome area bloggers).

7. New Orleans. I've been, but I was 15. Not really a New Orleans-appropriate age, right?

8. Thailand

9. Jackson Hole, Wy.*

10. Kansas City, Ks. My mom is from here, and I've never been. We should fix that.

*I'm what you might call an avid domestic traveler. I've been a lot of places but they've mostly been within the U.S. That's okay with me, for now. We have a pretty incredible country, and there's just a ridiculous amount to see and do here, you know?

Anyway, where do you want to go?

To Catch You Up

(In list form, to give you the foolish impression this post is cohesive, when it totally isn't.)

1. So, I caved and flipped on the tv this week. IT WAS GLORIOUS, BY THE WAY. Apparently my breaking point is sacrificing The Bachelorette because going without tv was harder than all the days without meat or cheese or chocolate or booze combined. My whole idea behind doing away with my DVR queue was to read more, to meet that goal of reading 25 books this year, and I realized quickly I just need to turn off the tv more often, instead of never turning it on. Never turning it on is depressing, and no one should voluntarily be depressed.

2. Kyle's officially in a full-size bed. I'd be sobbing over my baby no longer being a baby if it weren't kind of nice to read bedtime stories while laying in a new bed instead of uncomfortably sitting cross-legged on the floor. He'll also occasionally request for Molly to sleep with him, until about a half-hour later when he screams for me to come take her away, she won't stop moving, "GET OFF MOLLY." Oh that poor, poor dog.

3. Hey, speaking of Molly's endless supply of patience, we've given Kyle his first chores around the house, aside from picking up after himself and helping me with the dishes (which he loves, don't feel badly for him). Every day he has to put up his shoes and feed Molly, and he takes a lot of pride in these tasks while also taking his sweet, toddler-loving time with them. So, Molly just sits there, waiting for him to scoop up enough food for her before dropping it into her dish, which could take entire minutes. She just sits there, staring at me like, "HAVE YOU NOT TORTURED ME ENOUGH, WOMAN." I swear, it's shocking that dog doesn't constantly chew my good shoes or pee all over my pillow.

4. I recently found Barnivore, a great site for vegan-friendly booze. You are welcome, if you ever find yourself in a similar Crazy Vegan Situation.

5. The Dallas Mavericks won the NBA Championship, I'm sure you heard. I want to be really thrilled about this because it's exciting! Go Mavs! We were the underdogs and Dirk seems like a really decent (albeit unattractive) man! But. Yeah. I'm just not a basketball fan. I was happy to see them win, sure, although by "see them win" you do realize I mean "realize they won when my Facebook feed erupted in exclamation points"?

6. I re-discovered Kelly Willis the other night, a Texas country artist I used to listen to a lot in high school and college. One of her songs, "Not Forgotten You," was perhaps THE song I got over my first love to, and as I stumbled upon it in a random way, I couldn't believe it had been over ten years since I wore out my CD playing this song on repeat. It took me right back. What break-up/moving-on song is like that for you?

7. My son is cute, let me show you.

8. It is so hot in Texas. I complain my way through every summer (and, admittedly, every winter), and I know it's annoying, but it's also just so miserable. The other day I picked Kyle up from school, and we had to run to the store. As we got out of the car, I said, "Ugh, it's hot," and Kyle said, "GO AWAY SUN! IT'S TOO HOT!" I was proud, I can't lie. 

9. I've signed up for the Rock N Roll Las Vegas half-marathon, this December, so we'll be traveling to Vegas for that. It falls a month before my 30th birthday, so we're combining the two celebration-worthy events and while I'm really excited (I'm one of those people who falls very much into the I Love Vegas camp), I also think it'll be quite the interesting trip. The first two days will be all run, run, run, sleep, sleep, sleep and the last two days will be all I AM GOING TO BE THIRTY HAND ME THAT BOTTLE OF CHAMPAGNE. My body is going to be drastically flip-flopping between "I am so proud of you!" and "YOU ARE FIRED!" But, hey, if you are looking to run a half-marathon down a neon-lit strip at night and then celebrate with lots of bubbles, come join me!

10. Kyle calls umbrellas "kites" and, yes, I did die of the cuteness the first time he did this, if you're wondering.

How's That Vegan Stuff Going?

I miss sour cream.

In all honesty, though, this whole Vegan Summer hasn't been easy so far, and it's not yet been a week. Hold me. Surprisingly, it's not the cravings that are tripping me up or the smell of a juicy burger, it's accidentally screwing up.

I nearly ate guacamole the other day that was made with some chicken additive or broth or something. I ordered tomato soup tonight that clearly had cream in it. I know a sprinkling of cheese has worked its way into my mouth at some point because, turns out, a lot of things are sprinkled with cheese (and scraping it off is sure to leave something behind). I wouldn't be surprised if my veggie burger was on a butter-toasted bun the other day.

I'm trying my very best, and making super tough choices, and I think that's pretty damn good. This isn't easy, but it's also not worth throwing in the towel because of the occassional (and unintentional) screw up.

I'll keep pushing forward, knowing at the end, I'll probably have consumed animal products at least 10% of the time. But that's 90% of the time I'm sticking to a goal. I can live with that.

I went to the store the other day and stocked up on more produce than I had stocked up on in a while, I bought almond milk, and the good hummus and some veggie sushi, too. I'm reading labels like a crazy person, and I am asking real and in-depth questions about my food, and that's a huge bonus to all this. I can't be perfect, but I can try to be. If that makes any sense at all.

Now, it's time to start running. I took off too many weeks between the end of March and now, and my half-marathon is a (short) six months away.

I do hear there's a nice vegan alternative to sour cream. So there's that.

I'll keep you posted, of course, and I'll share some recipes and fun finds at Food Lush (and here too), over the next (gulp) 12 weeks, and when the 12 weeks is over, you're all invited to the cheese and wine party I'm going to throw.

Adam

When my dad left us, nothing made sense even though everything had made sense just the day before. In no time at all, I had a new stepmom, divorced parents, a new home in a new state, and I went from being a kid to a kid with some major baggage. I didn't know if anything could change that.

Until Adam changed that.

Adam changed everything.

He's my little brother, although I think he became taller than me when he was around 13. I was 11 when he was born, and he was the most beautiful baby I'd ever seen. I loved him instantly, and that was another brand-new, didn't-make-sense feeling. How could I love someone so much I didn't know?

I would babysit him when I visited, and I'd watch (or withhold) Barney & Friends from him. I'd dance with him, and take him for walks, and when my dad would lose his temper with him, I'd look him deep in his eyes and tell him I loved him and it would be okay, even if I wasn't sure that was true.

When Adam was 8, we took a trip to Disneyland and he was as adorable and hilarious and as fun as any kid I can ever remember. When I think of 8, I think of Adam wearing funny ears on his head and making faces with me and hugging me tightly before bed, and it's what gets me through all these milestones Kyle is speeding past. We still have 8, I think. We still have 8 ahead of us.

Adam is stubborn and has a temper and reminds me of both my sister and my dad when he gets frustrated except when he talks to me. When he talks to me, he reminds me of my brother, no one else.

I don't know if Adam can really understand how much I love him, how I'd do anything for him, open my doors and my house and my wallet if he really needed, because he's 18 and I don't know if you can really get anything at 18 that seems so obvious at dozens of other ages. It's not super cool to have a much older sister who loves you to pieces, but it's still true. It always will be.

I told Adam when he was two years old that I'd see him graduate high school. He couldn't remember, of course, but I never forgot.

Nothing would have kept me, so that's where I was when I was out of town week before last.

My little brother -- the little guy who used to wave backwards, whose blonde hair from way back when reminds me of my own son's blonde hair now -- is now 18 and a high school graduate.

It seems impossible in some ways, he was just eight, wasn't he? And yet...

Congratulations, Adam. I love you. I always have, and I always, always will.

What to Do in New York City: Eat at Locanda Verde

Last week, I was in New York for work and just like every other trip to every other city, I had to seek out my best blog friends to catch up with. I didn't feel like I had much free time, but I did manage a few really delicious meals after work was done each day and one such meal on one such day was with Metalia and Jen.

Metalia, the local of the group, sent us a couple restaurant choices ahead of time, and I suggested we go to the one she'd never been to, so we could all try something new.

The place was Locanda Verde.

It was incredible.

When you're in New York next, make your way to Tribeca (a 15-minute cab ride from Times Square, where we unfortunately stayed) and then send me a thank-you note in the form of any of the crostini options (the blue crab was my favorite but thoughts of the sheep's milk ricotta will carry me through my Vegan Summer).

I'd also suggest ordering the La Fantasia di Cioccolato for two (even if it's just you; we don't judge), which is just a fancy ice cream sundae that I could not stop eating even though I was well past the point of full.

The menu is kind of sophisticated, true, which is what drove us to our phones to Google half the terms on the menu to figure out what the heck we might be ordering, such as guanciale (turns out: bacon!), but the food wasn't overly sophisticated at all. It was simple and flavorful and ridiculously good.

Although, sure, it also helped that while we waited for our table, Justin Long walked through the restaurant. He totally asked for my number.

(Except that he didn't, at all.)

If I was a good food blogger, I'd now insert my many near-professional photos of everything I tasted.

Spoiler: I am not a good food blogger.

Regardless, it was such a tasty meal with good friends. You should trust me and go as soon as you possibly can. Here's an idea, take me with you when you do!

Back With My Boy(s)

Now that I'm back from my trip way east (NYC) and then way west (Northern California), I can tell you that the Saturday before last, when I dropped my kid off at his Nana's house, I cried the entire drive home and the entire time in Target, picking up last minute travel items, and a little bit on my couch later that night, too.

I just cried and cried.

I knew Kyle was going to be fine. He adores the pants off his dad and grandparents, so it wasn't that I was worried, it was just that I was sad.

I was going to miss him like hell.

And I did.

But if my level of adoration for my boy today is any indication, we should all leave our kids from time to time, even if the crying on one end of the trip is quite a lot of work for one's mascara. I just can't stop kissing him and hugging him and he's so funny! Was he this funny before? And adorable! Was he this adorable before? Who knows, all I know is that OH MY, IT'S GOOD TO BE HOME.

He asked for chocolate milk at 9 pm last night and normally he'd 1) BE ASLEEP BY THEN MY GOD and 2) be totally refused because no child needs chocolate ANYTHING that late at night, but instead I was all OF COURSE BUDDY BOO! Whatever you want! Here, have seconds!

Then, we all piled into his bed (he's now in a twin bed; another post for another day) to read books and in the middle of his second picked-out book, Mike and I got distracted and started talking (because I missed him too, of course), and about a minute into that conversation, Kyle tapped me and said, "Leave mommy. You too, daddy." We looked at him a little puzzled and he said, "I read by myself."

Apparently our reunion was getting in the way of his book on animal babies.

Kittens are serious business.

Tonight, after we got devoured by mosquitoes outside after dinner, I asked if he wanted to color, play cars, yada yada, and he looked at me and said, "I want to go to bed and read books."

Ok then.

Apparently it simply takes me TRAVELING OUT OF STATE to raise the perfect child.

Noted.

(He's ready to go to the Blathering, he says!)

So, I'm home and it's the best place in the world to be, even though it would seem my husband is many, many good things but a house-cleaner-while-his-wife-leaves-town is not one of them, so I'm still trying to figure out exactly where that smell in the kitchen is coming from.

Still, happy! Suspicious smells and all!