'We'll Eat Like Kings!' Shredded Pork

As our vegetarian daughter will lament, “My family’s a bunch of carnivores.” It’s true. We love ourselves some meat. When I was telling Alex and his friend Luke the plans for this meal, Alex said with mock bravado, “We’ll eat like Kings!” A little too much Game of Thrones for that one.

I’ve made this before but I made two mistakes. First, I used a crock pot. For some reason unbeknownst to me – and probably completely obvious to any one of you – the meat never gets to a point where it shreds like it does when you cook it in the oven. Maybe it does and I just haven’t cooked it in the crock pot for an entire day. Second, I left out the chipotle pepper in adobo sauce. 

It’s because I’m historically wimpy. Ask anyone. It’s true. It’s especially true for spicy food, pull-ups (not the big kid diapers), and anything that moves when I’m not the one driving it (motion sickness). But, enough about me…

I made this almost exactly like the recipe on Pioneer Woman’s site Pioneer Woman's Spicy Dr. Pepper Shredded Pork except that I had two pork shoulders – both about 2.5 lbs. I use root beer rather than Dr. Pepper because I like it better. I cooked them in two separate pots, one with the chipotle peppers and one without. I roasted them at 300 degrees for about 4 hours and they were perfect.

In the picture below, you can see that the spicy shredded pork was used for a soft-taco – with tons of sour cream to offset the burn-your-face-off spiciness. It wasn't really that spicy, I just like to say that. It was delicious. I will definitely make it again…and again.

The non-spicy shredded pork was served on buns. If I was Pioneer Woman, I would have toasted those buns in butter on a griddle and served them warm and crunchy. The family can dream, can’t they?

If you love pulled pork – you will love this recipe. You will also love how your whole day is free while it's cooking. The spicy variety can be used to make so many different things – tacos, nachos, burritos. The non-spicy version can be served with all kinds of side dishes – a picnic with salads or a sit-down dinner with any kind of potatoes. You can make small roasts like I did or a big one. Assure that you make enough to have left-overs. I did and I bet it’s going to be even better tomorrow! Enjoy!

Everybody, Somebody, Anybody & Nobody

In healthcare, where I work, we revere IHI – The Institute for Healthcare Improvement. My boss sent me this slide from an IHI webinar she attended today:

Reliability Occurs by Design Not by Accident

This is a story about 4 people named Everybody, Somebody, Anybody and Nobody.  There was an important job to be done and Everybody was asked to do it.  Everybody was sure Somebody would do it.  Anybody could have done it but Nobody did it.  Somebody got angry about that because it was Everybody’s job.  Everybody thought Anybody could do it, but Nobody realized that Everybody wouldn’t do it.  It ends up that Everybody blames Somebody when Nobody did what Anybody could have done.

This is so true. It can be true at work but it’s SO true of what’s been happening with me over the last few weeks. The everybody, somebody, anybody and nobody within me are all slackin’. They know what needs to be done. They all know what it feels like to do it right. They’ve got their fingers pointed every which direction – who can we blame for this? Whose fault is it that we’re backsliding? Can we pinpoint exactly when this started? It probably has nothing to do with ME – it’s everything else – co-workers, family, bills…the endless to-do list.

The bottom line is, just like it is with bosses, who cares? What bosses want to hear is: I apologize. I take accountability for what happened but it’s fixed and it won’t happen again. Period. The less explanation the better; the less headache for them.

I’ve tried a course correction for the slacking issue – and written about it a few times. It hasn’t stuck. I really need it to stick. It’s time for a concrete plan of action. It’s time to quit making excuses and decide to stick to the plan I’ve set before me – to let them work for me instead of pushing them away.

In order to get it right, I have to start small – sleep well, plan exercise, plan food, and write everything down. I need to rest if it’s required. Stop, take note and breathe, when I get overwhelmed. And focus on putting me first. I’ve done this poorly for a lot of years. It’s going to take a little time to get it right. I live in the confidence that I will get it right – so will everybody, somebody, anybody and nobody. 

A gift from my friend Sheri, on my bathroom sink to look at daily...

Taco Bar Sunday

We have Taco Bar around here at least once a month. You'd think in the time I've been writing Mending Wendy, I'd have been able to get a good picture of it. I haven't. It's because, while easy, Taco Bar causes a little frenzy when you're getting it on the table - what with the stirring and the can opening and the warming. It's quite a spread - here's what's included in ours:

• Pulled Chicken taco meat
• Ground Beef taco meat
• Refried Beans
• Lettuce
• Shredded Cheese
• Soft taco shells
• Hard taco shells
• Black Olives
• Scoops Chips
• Salsa
• Sour Cream

All of that is just piled on the table - however you can get it to fit. Everyone builds their own taco, burrito, chalupa, taco salad, or nachos from those fixin's. We love it! One of the great things about this is calories are easy because you measure everything separately. Today, I didn't have enough calories left for the full tablespoon of sour cream on my nachos, so I had half of a tablespoon. It's easy to finagle the pieces you want to fit the calories you have left. If you want an easy dinner with plenty of left-overs to pack in lunches (or to have the next day like we did back in January - pictured below) - give this a try!

Grave Injustices

“Be the change that you wish to see in the world.” ~ Mahatma Gandhi

In the days following 9/11, I only left the television to sleep and go to work. The stories of the terrorists – the insidious way they entered the country and took flying lessons enraged me. Their actions on that day paralyzed me. I’d never known unspeakable fear. I’d never been terrorized.

Then came the memorials and the stories of heroism, the real faces of all of those victims and their devastated families. It was all too much. It felt disrespectful to quit watching and listening…to go on with our lives.

Not long after that – in April of the next year, my favorite newsman of all time – David Bloom – died of a pulmonary embolism while covering the war in Iraq. This was back when I regularly watched the news. They played the song “Could We Start Again, Please” from the Broadway Show Jesus Christ Superstar at his memorial. I downloaded that song and played it again and again…it made me sob. I was really feeling this as if he was my husband or father – or at the very least a close friend. I was merely a fan of his work.

What I have learned in the years since and through the tragedies since is that our brains and bodies respond to those things we watch and hear as if they are actually happening to us…if we let them. That’s a lot to put a mind and body through again and again. Empathy and compassion are good things, but back in 2001 and 2002 – when I was dealing with these tragedies as well as my own personal crisis in Rich’s brain surgery – I started to feel too fragile to exist in this world.

When the unthinkable happens, like the Sandy Hook school shooting or the Boston Marathon Bombing, I’m still enraged, hurt and scared. But I’m not paralyzed. I don’t sit and watch news coverage. I take small bits as I can – usually in print. I try to focus on what I wished the world looked like. I’m not talking Polly Anna or rose-colored glasses – I’m just talking about a world in which we’re not terrorized. These horrifying acts occurred because of hatred. I want nothing to do with hatred so I don’t let the rage go too far. I choose to trust in the justice system. I want to be part of the solution – not part of the problem. Anyone spewing hate in conversation: online, in person or on television - must be conscious of his or her audience and be willing to take responsibility for their message. Who will be called to violent action by the words of that conversation?

Terror for me means feeling afraid to gather in large groups because someone who hates Americans or hates the government feels they need to make a “statement” by taking the lives of innocent people. Terror for me means sending our sons and daughters in the military to fight and die in one country when al qaeda is everywhere.  It means experiencing fear sending my child to school because some lunatic might be lurking…planning…attacking. Raising a child in a world where there are armed teachers or schools with armed guards is a form of terrorism for me, too. It makes me cringe.

Instead of giving in to the rage, hatred and terror, I volunteer for the Medical Reserve Corp in our community, to give what help I can here and to be that change I wish to see in the world. I pray – over and over again. I hold those dear to me just a bit closer. I try to show simple human kindness to my fellow man. All of this won’t stop those grave injustices from happening, but if we all went a little bit further, if we all rejected hate – our world just might become a better place in which to exist. 

Be the change that stops the cycle of violence...

The Gift of Forever Friends

“What do we live for, if it is not to make life less difficult for each other?” – George Elliot

I hope you have people like these five wonderful women in your life. We were together last night – all of us – for the first time in seven years. There have been two or three of us together many times a year for a girl’s night out or a girl’s trip to Vegas. It’s hard to get us all in one space, though, when two of us now live out-of-state.

Thirteen years ago, we were all working at the same hospital, having frequent outings, sharing in one another’s daily lives. Thanks to Facebook, email, and texting, we still have a lot of contact. It’s just not the same as being enveloped in the loving energy the presence of these forever-friends provides. Our hugs are much longer now than when we saw each other more often, as if we have to make up for lost time.  

Even though it has been too long since we’ve all been together, we don’t miss a beat, conversations take off, words spill out so fast we sometimes stumble over one another and Sherry has to call things to order with “Circle Time!” This way we each get a turn. We laugh so hard that tears flow – at old stories and new ones.

Tears flow for other reasons, too. Life has thrown a lot at each of us. We’re raising children, having grandchildren, helping aging parents and learning how to say goodbye to them, building houses, moving across the country, working hard, and trying to etch out some time in between for ourselves. Sometimes just seeing empathy and compassion in the eyes of someone who loves us dearly makes it impossible to hold it together anymore. As it should be…

I’m still smiling – on my face and in my heart today, thinking about how it felt to be with them all again. They make life less difficult for me not only because of the comic relief they provide but also because I see myself in each of them. Because of them, I have an overwhelming sense that everything is going to be okay but even if it’s not, they’ll be with me…forever. What a priceless gift…

Cathy, Ann, Me, Heather, Mary Kay and Sherry.

April 2013

Sow Seeds of Gratitude

I had my daughter later in life. I was categorized, in the words used by maternity folks, as being of “advanced maternal age” at the age of thirty-seven. Aging, or at least thinking of it as threatening or scary, had never really hit me until then. So many changes have taken place in the years since Allison’s arrival. All of those changes aren’t because of her but many of them are closely related.

Mothers of daughters are dedicated to showing them a better way. Mothers of sons are dedicated too – it’s just different. What is accepted in our sons isn't necessarily accepted in our daughters. Our society would have our daughters sit nicely, remain quiet, mind their manners. The images in their tween and teen magazines tell them how they should look and feel and create all sorts of anxiety if they don’t fit into the mold. The adventuresome spirit they’re born with is stifled by concern with how they will look kayaking, skiing, running, jumping or doing most anything. They don’t understand that doing just exactly what they choose will create their best life. They don’t understand how fulfilling and amazing their life will be because they made their own choice and then tenaciously plowed forward, undeterred.

I am fortunate that my daughter was born with not only that adventuresome spirit, but also a steadfast will, an old soul and a kind heart. Before I knew all of this about her – that’s what I wanted for her. If I was to be not only her mother but also her mentor – her example, some things in me had to change. I needed to be much closer to the person I wanted her to become. I needed to wrestle with my own fears and anxieties – have a staring contest with them and win. I have to show her that, no matter how you’re feeling on the inside, you throw those shoulders back and lift your head and look the world square in the face as if to say, “bring it.”

A side benefit (and there are so many others) has been that I’m not worried much about aging. I think aging is more difficult for people who did fit in the mold. As for me, I’m in better shape than I’ve been in over twenty years. I will continue to be strong. I will continue to show her how, just as it is for men, age is just a number. Sure, age comes with its challenges but they don’t have to be as limiting as we allow them to be and we don’t have to be critical of our bodies because of it. We have to learn to work with those changes – alter our perspective and continue to do those things we choose to do, undeterred.

Part of providing an example for her has been teaching her how to be grateful for what she has – her family, her friends, her pets, her room, her toys, and the beauty of nature. She has mentioned before (already) that her legs are bigger than a couple of her friends’ legs. We talked about being grateful that she was given strong, muscular legs. My hope is that she can carry this gratitude for the body she was gifted through those horrible-body-image years and beyond.

Even if you don’t have a daughter – it will help you to practice gratitude for the body and mind you were given too. Look how far they’ve brought you! Age in the body and mind you were gifted with grace and gratitude rather than cynicism and loathing. You will find that it will make you happier, kinder, more optimistic, and more willing to say "yes" to any experience you choose!

She fills my heart with gratitude. April 2013.

...Starring You as The Greatest Gift

What better gift can you give your spouse than the gift of your time and undivided, kid-free attention? I started doing this a few years ago for birthday and Christmas, and even sometimes a “just-because” for Rich. He requires very little and those things he does want/need have very clear specifications. He usually purchases those without waiting for any holiday. Besides, I have an aversion to buying a “gift” for him that he’s written the specs down for – not much surprise/romance there!

So, I started buying gifts of two event tickets for him. Luckily (for him), he’s chosen to take me to these events as his date! They’ve typically been concerts – Fleetwood Mac, Matchbox Twenty, Bob Dylan. Last year, for his 50^th birthday we trekked to Kansas City to see one of our favorite bands - O.A.R. We made an overnight stay of it at the Crown Center Marriott. It was wonderful! They’re going to be in Kansas City again in June and so will we! Last night was Rich’s Christmas present – the comedian Lewis Black at the beautiful Holland Center downtown.

There were many years Rich didn’t feel well enough to go out. Then there were the years we were reluctant to get a babysitter because we’re generally overprotective of our little Peanut. Now, we have young adult children who gladly watch their sister. Allison is old enough to listen to reason and knows what the expectations are when Mom & Dad are gone. We can leave her with her siblings without thinking twice.

I make a point to get made-up and dressed-up for these outings. I silence my phone and check it infrequently (just in case the kids need something). I shake off whatever worry might be weighing on me – who wants to go on a date with a worrywart? Me neither. I try to be the date I’d want to have – no nagging (not that I EVER do this anyway), no worrying, no conversation about kids. I focus on being happy, forgetting about work and the harried world we live in, looking into his eyes and making him feel like the center of the universe.

These have been, by far, the best gifts I’ve ever given. As it turns out, they’ve been one of the greatest gifts I’ve received as well. They have been the most fun and life-renewing. They’ve created lasting memories and moments of connection that have strengthened our marriage.

If you haven’t gifted like this before, it might be worth a try. You have to go all-in though with your focus on being a fun date – even if you don’t feel it at first. Discuss the rules for the date ahead of time. Relax and enjoy. Who knew YOU would be the greatest gift of all? 

Us. April 2013

Hodge Podge Dinner

Who wishes they didn’t have to think of what to make for dinner every night? Me too. I started doing the Fresh 20 program I wrote about a couple of weeks ago. This is a program where you buy 20 ingredients and with their recipes you make five meals. It’s been nice – when I have the organization to get it done. Life gets in the way sometimes – this week in particular.

It’s nice to know your family is getting a good, well-rounded nutritious meal. But sometimes, you just have wing it. You investigate what’s in the fridge and the pantry and throw caution to the wind – everyone eats what they want. It’s probably not ideal but it beats fast food any day of the week. I call it hodge podge dinner.

I love hodge podge dinner. Tonight, Rich had the Hawaiian Chicken I made last night – I just made him some new rice and veggies to go with it. Alex had a cheese burger with left-over chili cheese dip and chips. Allison had (her favorite) orange soup – which is not tomato soup (according to her) because it’s not red and she doesn’t like tomatoes. I had a cheeseburger and some of Rich’s rice.

The great thing about hodge podge dinner is everyone goes away happy. Everyone gets to have what they want to eat and I get to put dinner on the table in 20 minutes or less. Win-win.

As you can see in the picture below, hodge podge dinner is a little messy but I can live with that one night a week or so. What would be included in your hodge podge dinner?

From Cruelty to Clarity

You wouldn’t believe the cruel things I’ve been told throughout the years – by regular people AND professionals. Maybe you would. From another human: “You’re an unfit mother because you’re a food addict.” From a doctor in Florida whom I was asking for help: “You just need to push yourself away from the table.” Thank you both… These are just a couple of examples – there are so many more comments and insults that are being extricated in the Spring Cleaning of the Mind I wrote about last.

The reason I’m so focused on all of this lately is that I have lost and then regained the same 10 pounds three times in the last five months. Something has me stuck here. I’m not sure what it is but I have to get to the bottom of it in order to get past this place. So, I’m researching the reasons people overeat…trying to wrap my head around what’s completely baffled me for years.

As I wrote in February of this year, after the F.A.S.T. Conference:

We came away from this conference inspired! We were not told that

we got the way we are because of some outside influence we should

blame. We were told that this is the way we are – this is the hand we

were dealt. We are eaters – the lot of us. There’s no quick fix. We were

told that we deserve everything we want in life IF we take personal

responsibility and work really hard. What a concept!

I believe all of this to be true. I have taken personal responsibility. I have worked REALLY hard. Yet, my analytical mind wants to know the “why?” – how did this happen and why can’t I continue to make forward progress? Is it a wiring problem in my brain? Is it a neurotransmitter or hormone imbalance? Do I have overactive opioid receptors that make me respond to food as a drug addict would to cocaine? Is my psyche nearly irreparably damaged? These are all cited as reasons people overeat – these and our culture – an overabundance of food in conjunction with constant commercials, signs, and pop-ups on our computer encouraging us to eat more.

I won’t know about my hormones, neurotransmitters or opioid receptors unless I volunteer for some medical study or another. I probably won’t. The research I’ve done says an awareness of these imbalances and how they affect your brain and body may be enough. You’ll be able to curb eating by checking in with yourself – is this real hunger? Or is this something else? Awareness, apparently, can go a long way.

As far as my psyche goes, it’s mostly fine. There is one, not-so-tiny caveat - the last time I weighed what I weigh now was twenty-two years ago. I have to take into account that I was in an unhealthy relationship at that time and some memory of those stressed and unhappy years may be weaseling in and working against me. Like muscle memory, could there be ‘size memory?’ That just means more Spring Cleaning…more countering of the inner critic who’s been wreaking havoc for years using someone else’s voice…not my own.

In so many ways, this journey has been about finding my voice: asking for what I need, putting myself first, sticking up for what I believe in. Next, I need to allow my own voice to be the loudest one in my head while filtering out all the noise from other sources unconcerned with my well-being. I’m convinced that finding this clarity is the answer. 

Photo Courtesy of: www.care2.com

Spring Cleaning the Mind

Many of you already know that I’m spring cleaning – I love it! A cleaning service came to help with the actual cleaning part today. It’s fantastic and I highly recommend it to anyone! I still have to get through the decluttering and reorganizing (cupboards, closets, storage room), treat all of our wood with oil, and do touch-up painting. That’s all before we get started with outside. I’m sure you have a to-do list that's similar. Part of the decluttering includes getting a dozen or so magazines read and thrown away.

In doing so, I read an article by Martha Beck that hit me like a ton of bricks. This particular part is what got me: “Many people think that self-hatred is a catalyst for positive change. Au contraire. Reject anything about yourself – your bad habits, your appearance, your impulse to laugh uncontrollably at funerals – and you’ll get brief, white-knuckle attempts at self-improvement that consistently end in relapse.” I know. My jaw hit the floor, too, especially in light of the difficulty I’ve been having lately. I had to take mental inventory of whether I’d actually ever MET Martha Beck. It was one of those she’s-talking-about-me-and-everyone-is-staring moments.

I don’t know where this self-hatred comes from in us. Scientists say we tend to focus more on the negative and that we’re more likely to remember a negative situation than a positive one. We’re a fun group. Why would this be ingrained? Is it some sort of survival mechanism? Are we just automatically playing back, in our mind, every negative thing that was ever said to or about us? Why can’t we let it all go?

Part of the problem in this day-and-age is probably the to-do list I mentioned earlier. We’ve got so much on our lists – at home and at work. We rarely, if ever, get it all done. We always see ourselves as deficient. It’s more than that, though – our bodies aren’t perfect, we’re not as smart as the next guy, we don’t make as much money as the Jones’, we’re not as successful as our friend. The list goes on.

What can we do to combat the self-flagellation with every alleged misstep? It takes a lot of practice, I think – a lot of talking back to the inner critic. In addition, we need to purposefully take the time to speak to ourselves in a gentle manner. To start this, I’m going to try to take 10 minutes or so a day to sit with my eyes closed (without falling asleep) and list the things I’m grateful for – including some things about myself. I know it sounds like just another thing to put on that to-do list but bear with me.

To do this right, there are a couple things we have to forget about: the first is what everyone else can do to make us feel better about ourselves (they can’t – this is a one-man show) and the second is what we need to have happen (more money, bigger house, weight loss) in order to feel better about ourselves. We are who we were intended to be…and, even if we’ve been sort of a downer (to ourselves) in the past, we’re over that! Let’s start living like we love ourselves and like we believe in our innate goodness. We really do have that choice and it sounds so much better to me than the alternative. 

Photo courtesy of: universal-mindpower.com

Elvis and Grandma

Yesterday at our church’s Easter Services we had a guest vocalist sing “How Great Thou Art” and as a congregation we sang, “In the Garden (and he walks with me and he talks with me).” These songs were both on my Grandma Erickson’s Elvis Presley Gospel Album (released in 1967) titled “How Great Thou Art.” I remember playing that album and singing these songs at her house (and at church) throughout the years.

The Easter Celebration combined with these songs was very emotional for me and it spurred a discussion between Allison and me about my very stoic, German Grandmother. She lived across the yard from us on the farm all the while I was growing up. It saddens me that I’ve finally come to a much better understanding of her thirteen years after her death.

I eulogized her then. I wish I could do it over again. I would include the fact that she was a widowed farm-wife in rural South Dakota with five children in the early 1960’s when she was in her early-fifties. This, after the death of my Grandfather from pancreatic cancer, which must have been even more horrible to witness than it is in this day-and-age. This was not an easy life. She never remarried. She spent her life working hard and practicing faith in God. She had few close friends but her sisters, one son and one daughter lived nearby. She was proud of all of her family. Unfortunately, I think a lot of us misinterpreted her concern for us as criticism which closed off communication rather than stimulating it.

She was a proud woman trying to prevent us from the judgment of others by preemptively thinking of those things that might hurt us and pointing them out – which had us running for cover – because we didn’t ‘sit like ladies’ or we ‘looked a little chunky’ in that outfit or ‘we didn’t keep our rooms clean’ like we should. All of those things were true. They just weren’t delivered in the warm-fuzzy manner we would have preferred. She was never taught to value ‘warm and fuzzy.’ There was work to be done. Honesty was the best policy.

My appreciation for all of her idiosyncrasies comes from maturity, I suppose, but also a better understanding of truth and the impressions left on us by the path on which life takes us. Like all of us, Grandma was doing the best she could with what she had – with the experiences she had growing up, with the hand she was dealt as an adult. She had a life filled with loss, loneliness and struggle.

Through it all, she loved her family dearly. She worked hard. She did her best and wanted the best for us. When it comes down to it, that’s all we can expect of anyone, including ourselves. If you love and appreciate someone (especially those with some idiosyncrasies of their own), tell them just that while they are still here with us. 

The cemetary behind this church is where my Grandparents are buried.