Where to find happiness

Blogilates

Recently, a friend texted me saying I had to download this great fitness app called Blogilates. This friend introduces me to all sorts of cool apps, from baby apps to photo printing apps. They're all great, so I trusted Blogilates would be just as great. Immediately, I downloaded the app and like a kid in a candy store, I smiled at all the clean eating recipes and at-home workout videos.

As I mentioned in a previous post, I fell off the health wagon for a little bit and I wanted to try the shortest workout video available. I chose the 6 minute arm workout. This arm workout was different from any arm exercises I've done before and I could do it in the comfort of my living room while watching Christopher play.

Cassey Ho creates workouts into bite-sized pieces, which I love. The thought of working out for an hour can be exhausting alone. Her videos are all pretty short, so I feel like I have no excuse. Today is day 3 of following her workouts. Let's do this!

Raspberry Coconut Smoothie

I kind of fell off the wagon this past week with eating clean. I blame it on the winter blues. I've been suffering from it. Bleh. I am trying lots of little things to help boost my mood - got my hair trimmed, painted my toes bright pink, worked out and looked at videos of cute kids and puppies. I guess I feel better today because I woke up craving something healthy.

Smoothies are the easiest breakfast, in my humble opinion. Throw a bunch of things in a blender and press a button. Doesn't get easier than that.

This smoothie is different from all the other ones I've made so far because of coconut milk. It's a welcomed change and best of all, it was baby approved.

Raspberry Coconut Smoothie

Recipe from The Gracious Pantry

Ingredients:

• 1 (15 ounce) can light coconut milk
• 1/2 cup frozen raspberries (no sugar added) or 3/4 cup fresh raspberries.
• 2 tablespoons water (optional)
• 1/4-1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
• 2 tablespoons honey or maple syrup

Instructions:

Add all ingredients into a blender and blend!

Women aren't supposed to make coffee...

Mommy Porn: Fifty Shades of Reality

I came across this hilarious parody of EL James' Fifty Shades of Grey. It's written by a refreshingly funny blogger. I'm happy I accidentally came across his blog: The Accidental Missionary

Note: The following story must be read aloud in your most sultry, sexy voice.

Fifty Shades of Reality 

by Scott Dannemiller

The look on her face was utter shock, but the sensation in her soul was pure bliss.  He was doing things she had never before dreamed.  This was virgin territory.

“Is this how you like it?” He asked, a grin growing across his cheeks.

“That’s right.  Just like that.”  She answered, still trying to hide her surprise.  “That’s how I like it.”

He gingerly grasped her panties between his thumb and forefinger.  She leaned back and relaxed, breathing a heavy sigh.  As she settled into the couch, he brought the delicates to his chin.

Tucked them underneath.

Folded them in half.

And placed them into the laundry basket.

A rush went through her body, climbing her spine and erupting out the crown of her head.  As he grabbed her socks, it didn’t take long for her to realize he had done this before.  He didn’t just ball them up like other guys.  No.  He took his time.  Laying one sock on top of the other, and lightly folding them over.

“So precise!” she marveled at his technique.

“I learned this from an older woman,” he confessed.

“My aunt Edna.  She says it keeps the elastic from stretching.  Don’t worry.  I’ve got this.  I can go all night.”

Her core filled with ecstasy.  She watched as the neatly folded stacks of laundry rose higher and higher.  Socks.  Underwear.  Shirts.  Shorts.  Reaching their peak.  And just as she thought they might topple over, he moved each of them to the basket, arranging them by family member so to efficiently distribute them to their final resting place.

“I’m going to leave you alone for a moment.  I need to go put these things away.”

As he walked down the hallway toward the bedroom, she watched his tight buttocks sway back and forth, disguised by his baggy gym shorts.  Her eyes were distracted by something on the right hind pocket?  What could it be?  And then she remembered…

>>>

Just this morning, she awoke to a sun-drenched room.  There were squeals of delight coming from the kitchen.  Yes, her prince had risen before her and whisked the children off to the breakfast table.  There, he had lovingly prepared a meal.  Toast.  Milk.  Fruit salad.  And yes, oatmeal.  Oh, the oatmeal.  And not the kind from the paper pouch.  No.  He was too much man for that.

These were McCann’s Steel Cut Oats.  Steel. Cut. The kind that required warm water, heated to boiling.  Heat.  Hot heat.  Then turned down to a simmer to bubble and roll.  Full of fiber and tasteless.  Nutritious.  And he had somehow encouraged the kids to eat them.  To eat them all.  All except the blob that his daughter had dropped in his chair.  The blob that now adorned his rounded haunches.  Rugged and beautiful.  Like the freshly cleaned kitchen cabinet doors he had left gleaming, scented with Clorox wipes and Endust.

As she paced through the living room and into the dining area, bleary-eyed and foggy from a good night’s sleep, his voice cut through the clutter.

“It’s just how you like it. Hot. And sweet.”

She grabbed her cup of coffee and took a sip. He had lightened it with a heavy dose of Pumpkin Spice non-dairy creamer.


A real man remembers a woman’s lactose intolerance, she thought.

She glanced up at him to see his strong hands wrapped firmly around the shaft.  The shaft of the mop.  Sweat covered his brow.  He was moving gracefully.  Back       and       forth.  Back        and  
    forth.  To the rhythm of beautiful music.  Like Norah Jones singing the theme song to a LifeTime movie starring Meredith Baxter-Birney as a woman scorned, then finding love again after fifty.

As she watched, his graceful movements increased to a quickened tempo.  Back     and     forth.  Back   and    forth.  Back  and  forth.  Back and forth. Back n forth.  Backnforth.  Bcknfrth.  The music now more Beyonce than Norah.  His movements strong, yet controlled.   The sweat dripping off the end of his nose.

It was a stubborn stain.

Grape juice?  Spaghetti sauce?  A smashed pea?  No one could be sure.  But what was certain is that he was dominating this kitchen floor.  Unleashing his power.  And she surrendered to it.  Submissive.

>>>
 

She felt a warm breath on her ear lobe, waking her from her flashback of the morning.  The clouds parted ever so slightly.

“Lift your legs,” said the deep baritone.

It was almost a whisper, hardly registering in her sleepy haze.  She hesitated.  What was he asking?

“Just for a moment,” said the voice.  “Then you can relax.  Please.  Lift your legs.”

She had fallen asleep in the afterglow of the laundry.  Fading into the couch like toddler spit up.  So much had happened since the folding.  But she did as the voice commanded.

As she contracted her abdominals, finely honed by Zumba and Ben and Jerry, her feet broke free from the carpet.

It was like an orchestra.  As she moved, so did he.  Finely tuned movements.  Sliding the great machine under her heels.  The sight made the hair on her arm stand on end, like the nap of the carpet each time he withdrew the vacuum.  The pattern he left on the rug was pure perfection.  Abstract art with a purpose.  With each pass, eons of pet hair and foot falls disappeared in an instant as the high traffic area in front of the sofa was tamed.  Her muscles were burning, but it hurt so good.

“Please don’t stop.  Don’t stop!  Don’t stop!” she wailed.  “That looks so good!"

“I have to.”  He replied.

“No! But why?” she asked.  “You were almost finished.”

“Oh, I promise I’ll be back.  But I have to go.”

Anticipating, almost as if he was channeling  Radar O’Reilly in a scene from M.A.S.H., he moved toward the hall bath.   A tiny voice cried out, “Mommy!  Wipe my bottom!”  It was in that moment that she knew why he couldn’t finish.

He bounded to the bathroom, still sporting the smashed oatmeal brooch on his behind, prepared for something dirty.  Very dirty.  She knew it well.

She scanned the house to find herself firmly ensconced in Camelot.  Every room had been scoured.  The wood floors were shining.  The dust had all been wiped away.  There was a crock pot simmering on the kitchen island.  What could it be?  Pot roast?  Gumbo?  Chicken and dumplings?  It could be dishwater seasoned with floor sweepings for all she cared.  She hadn’t lifted a finger all day, and it was nearly dinnertime.

The rest of the evening was a blur of activity.  She was like the queen bee, with everyone buzzing around.  Food was eaten without complaint.  Dishes were washed and children bathed.  Bedtime stories were read while she watched HGTV in the other room.  She sat alone in her happy home, marveling at the man who made it all possible.  Her heart swelled like the giant blister that now covered her husband’s mop-pushing hand.

“You coming to bed?” he inquired.  “I’ve got something planned just for you.”

Her spine tingled.  She looked in his direction.  He had showered, shaved, and smelled like Irish Spring.  Not the old fashioned scent, but one of the new, fancy smelling-kind.  Somewhere between Old Spice and Axe body spray.

“Oh yes.” She delighted.  “I’ll be right there.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

She changed into a tank top and slipped on her favorite sweat pants that she’s worn since her days as a Kappa Delta.  She turned toward the bed and saw him.  Ready.  Waiting.  Willing.
She slipped between the sheets and turned away, unable to look into his piercing hazel eyes.  She felt a hand on her back.  It moved slowly southward, then northward again, with a subtle pressure.  A squeeze of the shoulder, a tease of the neck.  Fingers through the hair.  For fifteen minutes his hands moved all over her, from waistline to necklace, relieving the tension brought about by the everyday.  She let herself go.  Free to enjoy the backrub.

A backrub without a future.

He slowly slid over and kissed her shoulder.

“I have a headache,” he whispered.  “I love you.  Goodnight.”

“I love you, too.’ She echoed.  And, along with her gorgeous, hunk of a man, she drifted off to sleep.

Smiling.

Spooning.

Satisfied.

Friday the 13th

Friday the 13th has new meaning now. No longer is it a superstitious day where I cross my fingers and hope nothing bad happens. No longer will I think of Freddy Kreuger and Nightmare on Elm Street. Nope. Going forward, Friday the 13th will mean a day filled with LOVE.

CJ's cousin, Frank, and his beautiful bride, Jowanka, had a lovely, intimate courthouse wedding. CJ was a witness at the ceremony and had to go straight to work, but Christopher and I represented our family of three at the reception. The reception was one of my most favorite wedding receptions.

It was held in a private room at Pairings Bistro. Pairings is a gem of a restaurant in Bel Air. With extensive offerings of wine and beer, this restaurant does not disappoint. The food pairs perfectly too! (no pun intended). What made this reception stand out above all others was the wonderful simplicity and sincerity of it all. Sitting at a long rectangle table were 13 guests. Thirteen guests on Friday the 13th.

It was a scene from the Sex and the City movie where Carrie and Big get married at a courthouse and have a reception at a local diner where they fully enjoyed themselves. No need to greet hundreds of guests, no need to smile the same smile with different people, no dog and pony show. It was purely about Frank, Jowanka and their son, Kai.

Everyone got to talk to one another, catch up, and watch the kids as they were in their own little worlds. Glasses were filled with wine, conversations were meaningful, and memories were to be had. As cliche as it sounds, I really could smell the love in the air. 

The little details added the perfect touches and showed me that you do not have to spend a fortune for a wedding to be memorable. They say they will have a more formal ceremony and reception, but I don't know how this will be topped. This day, Friday the 13th, will forever be etched into my memory as a day of love and happiness.

Cheers to you both, Frank and Jowanka. I am truly, genuinely so happy for you. May God bless you with joy, laughter, fun and of course, babies.

#Jofrankai #congratulations #weloveyou

Coconut Lime Chia Pudding

I have a few ways of eating chia seeds. Chia pudding is definitely an easy and delicious way to eat 'em. It's so easy to make, you have no excuse not to! I've got my eye on a chocolate chia pudding recipe. Yum!

With the lime and coconut flakes, this pudding is refreshing and very easy to eat. After finishing the bowl, I wanted more!

Coconut and Lime Chia Pudding

Recipe adapted from Some Day I'll Learn

Ingredients:

• 2 Tablespoons of Chia Seeds
• 1 Cup of Almond Milk
• Zest of one Lime
• Shaved Coconut Strips

Instructions: 

1. Whisk chia seeds, milk and half of the lime zest together in a bowl. Wait 5 minutes and whisk again. Cover and refrigerate for at least 2 hours.
2. Top with shaved coconut strips and remaining lime zest.

 

Avocado and Egg Toast

I love toast. I love avocados. I love eggs. This is a combination of all three. What's not to love?

Avocado and Egg Toast

 

Ingredients:

1 avocado
2 eggs
1 piece of toast

Instructions:

1. Mash an avocado with a fork.
2. Scramble eggs in a pan.
3. Toast a slice of bread.
4. Top the toast with avocado, then eggs.
5. Sprinkle some salt and pepper.