Attitude is Everything

     “Attitude is everything.” How often do we hear and say these words?  I find myself thinking and saying this when something doesn’t go quite as I had planned and a little disappointment sets in.  As much as this is a cliché, it is true but how many times have we thought that our lives are just so unfair and we become pessimistic?  C’mon, admit it.  You have at some point.  The past several weeks I have been working exclusively as a clinical dietitian the Army hospital.  It has actually been a nice change of pace and even more so, an eye opener and reminder that “Attitude is everything.”

     I have had the blessing to meet and provide medical nutrition therapy for many Wounded Warriors who have been transported to Brooke Army Medical Center from the war zone so that their injuries and rehabilitation can be managed.  Some of the men have been 19 and 20 years old with double and triple amputations along with a huge laundry list of other injuries.   I have to fight back tears every time.  Each soldier is someone’s baby and often times, someone’s husband and someone’s father.  The amount of growing up these men have had to do in such a short time and the thought of their long journeys ahead leave me speechless. In spite of their injuries, most of them remain positive about their future.  Their positive attitudes should be an example for the rest of us.

     Last year I became involved in a military cycling organization called Team 4Mil through a friend and fellow AF dietitian.  Some of you may recall me talking about it and how their mission is to compete in the Race Across America and support the Wounded Warrior Project.  One of the ways that Team 4mil does that is by helping them rehabilitate with the use of adaptive cycles.  This mission is amazing to me!  It couples the exhilaration of a competitive sport and the joy that comes from helping others.  If you'd like to learn more or support Team 4Mil financially, you can visit http://www.team4mil.org/.

     This past weekend, I had the absolute pleasure of meeting a retired solider and wounded warrior named Nieves Rodriguez.  This year it is Team 4Mil’s plan to add a second relay team made up of wounded warrior cyclists and Nieves is on the team.  He was in Iraq during his second deployment when the truck he was driving in flipped over.  The impact left his right arm nearly severed to the point of traumatic amputation.  If it were not for an Air Force surgeon who argued that his arm could be saved, his life would be much different than it is today.  He had a long recovery and could have given up many times along the way but his attitude prevailed.  Today Nieves has full use of his arm and is an excellent cyclist. 

     Long story short, Nieves and my paths crossed when he was asked to represent Team 4Mil at Lance Armstrong’s Ride for the Roses event in Austin which draws support for the Livestrong Foundation and fight against cancer.  I was lucky enough to be Nieves’s guest at the VIP events which included a tour of the Foundation, an amazing dinner party at Lance Armstrong’s house, and a one of a kind bike race which for us equaled 90 miles!  This was a weekend that I will never forget!

     I haven’t been riding for that long- 3 months actually but it’s been long enough for me to know in my heart that I’ll be riding for a long time to come.  And the nice thing is, Kurt has adopted this past-time as well so it’s something we look forward to doing together.  This race was definitely a challenge- the distance, the hills, and of course the nuances of riding with a big group- it's different than marathons but those of you who know me, know when I set my mind on something, you might as well consider it done.  

Phil 4:13 “I can do anything through Christ who strengthens me”

     This verse has gotten through each of my endurance events and a lot of life’s obstacles in between.  I think when you have this attitude, the sky is the limit.

Post race giddiness

Mile 50

    

My first race.  I did it!! I finished!!

Disappointment, Acceptance & Gratitude

     Behind every closed door is a window waiting to be opened.   I really see this as being true but I also can say from personal experience that sometimes when doors slam shut we can be left feeling hopeless, discouraged, and locked out forever.  This is how I felt a couple days last week.   I hesitate to put these feelings into words and post them because the feeling are still raw and the wound, still fresh.  But I have decided that if my blog is going to be “real” and a true representation of me, it has to include those things I feel happy about as well as my life’s letdowns.  So here goes…

     Ever since I decided that I would make the Air Force a 20 year career, I had certain visions of what those 20 years would entail.  When you’re in the Air Force, it does no good to be too much of a planner because let’s face it, when it comes down to it, what is more important is “what is in the best interest of the Air Force.”  However, something that most of us will probably agree on for any profession is that if you do your best at your job and show dedication and commitment, chances are you will be effective and over time this effectiveness will be recognized. 

    The years have flown by and sometimes I have to stop and really ask myself  “Can I actually be approaching the big 4-0?” This September I hit 15 years in the Air Force as a dietitian and the time for my promotion board to Lieutenant Colonel.  When I think back to my days as a butter bar Second Lieutenant, silver bar First Lieutenant, railroad track Captain, and now bronze oak leaf Major, I realize that I have come a long way with the support of many family, friends, and co-workers.  My next goal was to be a Lieutenant Colonel and it’s by no means my intent to sound arrogant, but I felt I had a pretty great chance of reaching that goal.  Then “SLAP”-  life happened and reminded me once again that I am not in control.

     My selection board was this last June.  Matters as important as this are not handled quickly in the Air Force.  In fact, they seem to take an eternity!  The results were released last week which had me waiting over four months and as you probably could already guess, my name was not on the Lieutenant Colonel list.  It had been on the forefront of my mind that each rank is more difficult and competitive to reach and in today’s force where cut-backs of all sorts are a main focus, there was a chance I wouldn’t make the cut.  Believe me, this was on my mind but regardless, the news was a big shock and to me and seemed so unfair.  My dream slipped away just like sand through my fingers.

     I have to say in response to what is most peoples’ attempt to make light out of the situation, that there is most likely not going to be a “next time.”  If the truth is told, my chance of being selected next time for Lieutenant Colonel is 1%.  Literally.  Not impossible but as close as it gets.  My point in writing this is not to defend myself in an argument as to why I was not wrongfully selected but to hopefully give a little encouragement to others who at some point in their lives have or will experience rejection that leaves them feeling “not good enough.”

     Unfortunately, we live in a society where others seem to dictate our self-worth.  The media, our higher ups, even our friends seem to determine for us how we feel about ourselves.  And often times, it’s a cruel world in that these groups leave us feeling more torn down than built up.  Self confidence is a powerful thing and can determine the course of our lives.  As the saying goes, “Our thoughts dictate our feelings and our feelings determine our actions.” Or something like that.  It’s true.

     After a day or so of letting the news sink in, feeling terribly rejected, somewhat embarrassed, and not at all taken care of by an Air Force I believed I had put my heart into my entire career, I came to a conclusion.  I could either feel sorry for myself and reminded every day I was unchosen or I could move on.  I have chosen to do the latter. I decided that my rank, any rank, does not define me.  Not being promoted does not take away my God given talents or my desire to do right and take care of the Airmen under me or my ability to make a difference in peoples’ lives in positive ways.  Essentially, I am unchanged.

     I have always found it to be perplexing how some people seem to be more fortunate and have the luck of the draw compared to others.  Are these people more “worthy” or “blessed?” Not according to the Bible which says that God loves us all the same- the homeless man on the street to the rich man in a mansion- we are all equal in value in His eyes.  So at this time in my life, a time which really is a milestone of its own, I am choosing to listen to the inner voice which is quiet but powerful and saying “You are exactly who you are meant to be. You may never get another promotion. You may never fit in  a smaller size jeans.  You may never have what it is you think you want that others have but you have exactly what you need.  Not too little and not too much. Just enough.”

     I can only imagine what it would be like to live a life where this confidence served as a compass that allowed no deviation from the straight and narrow path that is followed when you always recognize where your value comes from- God.  There is still a small place in my heart that is tender when I think of the goal unmet, the rank unattained, but there is a bigger spot that is filled with the satisfaction of feeling content that this fact is perfectly ok.  I am me.

“Don’t wait for someone to tell you are awesome.  Feel it in your heart.  Then… thank God for making you this way” – Risa Riepma

    

    

Taking the Time

     The past few weeks have flown by and I've had a running list of things in my head of things to blog about but just haven't made the time. With that being said, I actually don't feel guilty because I have been trying to make more time "being in the moment" which has left less time to write about them.  It's not a bad thing but I did want to get my thoughts out in an organized way because they are symbolic of what my life is about these days.  There have been several significant happenings in the past month and I've noticed that each have had a common theme- that of TIME and making the most of every day we have been given.  One thing is certain and that is, time eventually runs out.

     You'll have to bear with me on this one...keep reading though because I think you will see the common thread at the end.  If not, that's ok...leave me a comment which reminds me...I'd love your comments whether they be on the blog if you are a follower on Google or just a short email.

Here goes...

     I added up the months recently that I have been at Wilford Hall and I couldn't believe it- over 2 1/2 years.  I've had a few unique opportunities to be a part of some special milestones there, most recently this past month, the closure of the hospital's foodservice which had been in operation over 50 years!  Unless you've worked there, it's difficult to truly appreciate the complexity of Wilford Hall Medical Center and what it contributes to AF medicine and the dietetics career field.  Let me just say that the many changes the hospital has experienced over the past few years that have been mandated by Congress and Base Realignment and Closure (BRAC) law have been quite revolutionary.  Our small piece of the changes in the dietetics world means no more inpatient care and foodservice, just outpatients. It's a big change.

     About a year ago I was placed in the Food Production Flight Commander position which was a bit unnerving at the time.  In my 15 years of being a dietitian, I've had the least experience in Food Production but I was going to be responsible for overseeing the draw down of food services at the "flagship" hospital which is something that had never been done before.  To be perfectly honest, I was not the least bit thrilled about the job but if there's one thing I've learned, it's not the actual job but the people you work with that make it what it is.  I had the blessing of working with some wonderful people, both military and civilian who knew their jobs well enough that it kept me out of trouble as their Flight Commander (most of the time).

     By this time I can bet you're starting to ask "how does this relate to TIME?" which I stated was my overarching theme. Well...the fact that there was no longer a need for military run foodservice operations meant peoples' job were going to change or go away completely. For our military, it meant moving to the Army hospital across town (no biggie) but for our civilians, many of which had been there over 2 decades, it meant they were losing their jobs.  Their "time" at Wilford Hall had run out.  As it turned out, God's hand was over each and every one of them. Those that were retirement eligible, retired and the remainder were found jobs at the Army hospital but this was not an easy task. 

     As we approached the 1 year from closure point, an idea came to me.  Our civilian workers did not ask to leave, they were forced.  I have to admit that up to that point, I did not know much about them, these 50 or so people, even though I passed them in the kitchen and facility each and every day.  I realized that unless someone went to the effort to recognize these people who carried out often thankless jobs, they would soon disappear not fully knowing the impact they had on thousands of peoples' lives.  So with that thought, I decided we needed to have an unprecedented ceremony (there aren't too many of these in an organization whose culture is based on tradition) to commemorate the 52 years of good departmental service and recognize those civilian workers leaving with gifts on stage that were based on the number of years they worked at the facility.

     I had gathered some helpful Airmen to work on the committee and the months came and went, the clock seemed to tick faster and faster.  There was not an individual in our departent that did not have a tender heart and become a little sentimental when the upcoming closure was brought up. While the backgrounds, ages, and ethnic groups differed widely across our diverse squadron, none of that seemed to matter in the end.  All of a sudden, it occurred to me that the job I had been forced into, was not so bad after all...In fact, it was pretty rewarding and it was bittersweet that it was coming to an end.

     Instead of being too busy to stop, make eye contact, and strike up a conversation with our civilian staff each day, I began to do just that.  I realized that I had "wasted" a lot of time and before I knew it, time together was something all of us did not have much of.  I was pleasantly surprised to learn that many of their interests, families, trials and tribulations, and values were not much different than my own. I learned about Ms. Janie who is a Hispanic woman who had worked for our dining facility for 22 years and was my mom's age. Had I not taken the time to connect with her I would have never known how her inspiration in life is her 12 year old grandson who has been blind since birth. And how the mission of her family is to raise enough money to fly him to China to receive a stem cell procedure that should allow him to see for the first time.  I learned about Mr Countess who was one of our staff with a disability.  His sister had dropped him off and picked him up at work each day for him to carry out his duties for about 15 years. Unless he found a way to get to the Army hospital which was farther from his home and too far for his sister to drive him, he would be without any income.  God has a way of showing up when it matters most and a way was found for dedicated Mr Countess to catch the bus at Wilford Hall and ride to Brook Army Medical Center and back on each of his work days.  And this was after an appropriate position miraculously became available for him there. 

     The desire to understand, relate and make a difference in others' lives was not something that found a place in just my heart but everyone throughout our department.  It was like we knew our time together had run out.  As it turned out, the "Closing Ceremony" was a big success.  The Airman in charge of the invitations did a beautiful job; the reception immediately following was exactly what you would expect from food and hospitality experts.  The beautiful plaques had a lithograph of Wilford Hall and San Antonio that was very stunning.  Our hospital commander, a 2 star General presided over the ceremony and we had good attendance from people throughout the hospital.  Most importantly, our civilian workers and their families, many of which came up on stage to accompany their loved one, felt valued and as if their efforts and sacrifices truly made a difference. It was one of those days we talk about in the Air Force when you are "re-blued" and reminded of the real reasons we do what we do.  On this day I became very grateful to have had the wake up call to stop and smell the flowers.  They've been blooming all along.

After our more formal photo, this is what we came up with for our "fun" one.

The change from an inpatient and outpatient facility to just outpatients brought a name change from Wilford Hall Medical Center to Wilford Hall Ambulatory Surgical Center.

Me and Ms. Janie.

Some of our staff.  Ms. Josie (in purple) made pretty aprons and literally wore a different apron to work every day!

This SSgt was my right hand in making sure the many details of the ceremony and reception were covered.  The great news is she will also be my right hand on my deployment.  She is tasked to go too.

     Briefly, I will say that about 10 days ago Kurt and I told the kids about my upcoming deployment.  We had decided to wait to minimize their anxiety about the situation.  Hunter immediately became quiet and when I asked what it was he was feeling, he said he was worried that I'd never come back.  Bella was more inquisitive and asked a bunch of questions like "why so long?" and "who will say my bedtime prayer and"  make my lunch?"  Ethan's response was "where is that?"  My beautiful flowers are each so different in their personalities even though they have come from the same garden.

     The thought of our impending separation is always in the back of my mind.  I know to a certain degree how much time I have left before I leave and each day, it's 24 hours less.  I am trying to balance my many responsibilities and I wish I could stop the hands of time for just a little bit.  The great news is, I am slowing down and for those of you who know me well know I can have an overflowing plate and not even know it.  The kids, Kurt and I have been enjoying our time together, playing games, riding our bikes (which I have LOVED), painting pumpkins, blowing out Hunter's birthday candle, going wine tasting, watching movies, enjoying family dinners, giving thanks to God, and even wrestling on the floor tickling tummies.  If you ask me, it has been the perfect use of our time. 

     Have you ever asked yourself what is the perfect use of your time?

The Red, White, and Chocolate

Today we needed a pick me up.  I have been explaining the significance of September 11, 2001 to the kids this weekend in ways that I thought their developing minds could understand.  It has made all of us teary eyed.  It actually surprised me when I realized they did not know what happened on that day, about 3 weeks before Hunter was born.  Hunter's first question was "why would someone want to do that to America?" He later asked if we could pray for the families who lost their loved ones.  His innocence was written all over his face.  I want them to understand the impact it has on all of us, not just the families of those lost but all Americans, especially the military.  I have been planting the seed when the opportunities arise to tell the kids about the role of the miltary in protecting our freedoms. I want them to know that not just their mom but our whole family is part of something bigger.

So....today Bella and I decided to make whoopie pies.  It's the third time we've whipped up these scrumptious beauties.  This was our first time making Red Velvet ones.  Each time they have been worth every effort, calorie, and fat gram. Today was no exception.  But unfortunately for me, she wasn't the exceptional helper and her assistance went only as far as measuring out the flour and salt.  She was actually more interested in playing with her little brother (which is a rare happening) so I wasn't going to argue with that. Two hours later the kitchen was back to its original state and we have goodies to share with our friends.  I won't delay any longer. You are going to want to jot this recipe down for the next Valentine's Day or any day.  These whoopie pies are to die for!

Red Velvet Whoopie Pies:

2 1/4 cups all purpose flour

1/4 cup Dutch-processed cocoa powder (can use regular unsweetened)

1/2 tsp baking powder

1/2 tsp baking soda

1/4 tsp salt

3/4 cup unsalted butter, room temperature

1 cup granulated white sugar 

1 large egg, room temperature

1 tsp pure vanilla extract

3/4 cup buttermilk

1 Tbsp liquid red food coloring

Cream Cheese Filling:

1/2 cup unsalted butter, room temperature

1 - 8 ounce reduced fat cream cheese, room temperature

3 cups confectioners' (powdered or icing) sugar, sifted

1 tsp pure vanilla extract

Directions:

Preheat oven to 375 degrees and place oven rack in the center of the oven. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper.

In a large bowl sift together the flour, cocoa powder, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.

In the bowl of your electric mixer, fitted with the paddle attachment (can also use a hand mixer), beat the butter and sugar until light and fluffy.  Add the egg beating well.  Beat in the vanilla extract. In a small measuring cup, mix the buttermilk and red food coloring. With the mixer on low speed, alternately add the flour mixture and buttermilk mixture, in three additions, beginning and ending with the flour. Drop heaping tablespoons (I used a small ice cream scoop) of the batter onto the prepared baking sheets, spacing about 2 inches apart.  With the back of a spoon, (I sprayed a little bit of Pam baking spray) smooth the tops of the cookies.

Bake for about 9-10 minutes or until the tops of the cookies, when lightly pressed, spring back (or a toothpick inserted into the center of a cookie comes out clean). Remove from oven and transfer to a wire rack to cool completely.

Cream Cheese Filling: Beat the butter until smooth and creamy. Add the cream cheese and beat until smooth. Beat in the vanilla extract. With the mixer on low speed, gradually beat in the confectioners' sugar, and continue to beat until smooth and creamy.

To Assemble: Take one cookie and spread a heaping tablespoon of the filling on the flat side of the cookie. Top with another cookie. If desired, take a little of the filling and thin it out, to piping consistency, with a little milk or cream. Place in a small piping bag or plastic bag and pipe lines back and forth over the tops of the Whoopie Pies. The assembled cookies can be stored, covered, in the refrigerator for several days.

Makes about 17 sandwich cookies.

Wha-la! You are going to want to get a few more minutes of cardio in after you eat one of these monsters!

Blessings in Disguise

It was six years yesterday that Hurricane Katrina hit the Gulf Coast as a category three hurricane.  Never in my wildest dreams did I think my family and I would be involved in such a physical and emotional disaster.  I'm a California girl, remember?  We have earthquakes in California but never hurricanes.  If you ask those closest to me, they will tell you my memory is pretty bad. I attribute it to "Mama Overload" but when it comes to the days leading up to Katrina and the many days that followed, my recollections are crystal clear.

We had just moved to Mississippi 5 months earlier for me to start a new job at Keesler Medical Center.  It was our second choice for an assignment out of two choices but the job was supposed to be better for my career progression so it became our first choice.  At that time my parents had made their third of four moves to follow Kurt and me to our various AF assignments.  They always made it known that it was for the kids not us. And that was ok with us. We were still blessed to have them. We had settled in nicely and gotten used to the small community of Ocean Springs and Biloxi even if the mall seemed to be the size of a Target store.  I had the wallpaper on the walls and Kurt and Hunter enjoyed riding the riding lawn mower in the mean humidity.

We went through the motions a couple times earlier that summer with hurricane warnings but before we realized it, Hurricane Katrina had even the locals concerned.  Even so, we weren't too terribly worried.  We had signed up for flood, wind, and hail insurance despite the fact the builders in the area assured us we were not in a flood zone. We had just learned we would be expecting our third child a few weeks before.  When Katrina hit, I was 12 weeks pregnant.  I remember hurrying to finish packing before we were to evacuate so I could get in one last jog around the block.  Kurt mowed the lawn so he wouldn't have to do it after we returned.  Boy, we had NO clue!

The aftermath of Katrina was nothing we could of imagined in our wildest deams.  Our cars and homes were deemed totaled due to 6 feet of salt water that they were submerged in and the mold that quickly filled them.  Most of our belongings were ruined. 

This photo was taken by one of our neighbors who chose not to evacuate and sheltered in the attic with their children.  They took this photo when the water started to recede.

We were excited about our new house.  If you look closely near the hanging picture you can see the water line in the kitchen.

The damage was unbelieveable.  My parents' piano had been moved across the house where it was blocking the front door.

 

The photo below was taken with some good friends of ours, the Pittards, who were also an AF family and lived across the street.  Darren was an OB-GYN resident and their house suffered similar damage.  Surprisingly, they were relocated to Lackland AFB as well and found a home in the same neighborhood once again.  This photo is so telling and filled with emotion.

These group of men were from Palm Valley Church where we had visited when we lived in Phoenix, Arizona.  They got word of our situation from some friends.  They drove out and helped Kurt with the house after the kids and I left.  We were one of several families that they provided assistance to in the Gulf Coast area.  It was a real blessing for Kurt to see their familiar faces and have them pray for us.

We quickly were reminded what is truly important in life and it's wasn't any THING.  To make a long story short, I was evacuated to California to stay with Kurt's parents while the AF decided what job to send me next.  It was a stressful time with my parents staying in MS, Kurt following us a few weeks later, and the kids staying with me in a house that was not at all kid proof.  The battle with the insuance companies was a daily thing but we dared not complain.  We were among the few with insurance who could someday expect a check AND we had an outpour of love and support from family and friends.  They were more than gracious with helping us get back on our feet.  It turned out, we were sent back to San Antonio, Texas where I chose to take a job in AF Recruiting Service.  Things started to fall into place and before we knew it Ethan was born and we were moving into a new home with my parents two doors down.  And the rest is history... 

So many of us know that God works in mysterious ways but in the midst of our turmoil we can't see anything good every coming of the situation.  I have to admit, I had my doubts.  Six years later, I see the experience as a true blessing in the way it has shaped our lives.  Let me explain... The first time we lived in Texas we had some great friends, the Wiggams, who invited us to visit their church called Oak Hills.  We didn't go but once and it was shortly before our move to Arizona but it left an impression on us- so much that we decided to go back when we moved back.  The Wiggams have moved away but we have found a wonderful group of friends we call family and the lessons and pastors have touched our lives when it mattered most.  Perhaps the biggest blessing is our Ethan.  While we never knew what his sex or name would be before he was born, God knew. And He knew so much more.  He knew Ethan would have struggles in his life with Autism and he would need help brought to him by intense therapy.  Therapies that are not found in small cities like Ocean Springs and Biloxi Mississippi.  God guided our path straight to San Antonio where Ethan would have the best chance at a bright future.  And a bright future he now has.  Another valuable lesson we have learned is that we are entitled to anything- not our clothes, our homes, or any of our possessions.  It's a gift that any time can be taken away.

Each year at Katrina's anniversary I feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude but I also feel a sense of unworthiness compared to the thousands of good people who were not as fortunate to have the means to pick up the pieces to their homes and lives and move on as easily.  Do they view Hurricane Katrina as the blessing that we do? 

un cycliste

The past 10 months I have switched gears and set aside my competitive side.  I say competitive, but my love for running and races is really a competition I have with myself.  Ever since last year's marathon, I haven't been running much and I haven't trained for any races.  Am I being lazy, you might ask?  I guess that is a small part of the reason but the main reason was that I have been trying to find balance.

 Training, fundraising, and racing with Team in Training to benefit the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society was amazing and I loved every every moment of it.  I was able to complete 3 full marathons with the group. But...it required a lot of my time, attention, and energy.  Last Novemeber I promised Kurt I would give him a break and focus on our family and it has been exactly what all of us needed.  There hasn't been a day that I haven't missed it...the discipline in commiting to a physically challenging endeavor, the comraderie and teamwork, and the joy that comes from helping others. 


Kurt and I have talked about how nice it would be to find a recreational activity that we both enjoyed that we could do together.  I took up golf this Valentine's Day or should I say, took up hitting balls at the driving range and that has been fun.  But I have to be honest, as much as golf requires talent, it doesn't bring on a calorie burn and endorphin surge and once you're used to that, it's hard to go without.  A new sport that we have taken up is cycling.  Although it has been in the back of my mind for a long time, buying bikes was Kurt's idea.  I actually have few friends who are avid cyclists, some of which could probably be considered pros.  I met them through an organization I became involved in this year called Team4Mil whose mission is to raise awareness and funds for Wounded Warriors while training for and completing the Race Across America.  Check out their website at http://www.team4mil.org/.  They are an amazing group and have been an inspiration to me.


So...with a little help...actually a lot of help and with a good deal, the two of us bought our own bikes.  Contrary to the sport of running which does not require too many accessories, cycling can be quite complicated.  The helmet is only the beginning.  You have to have padded shorts, a reflective light, water bottle cage, an air pump, an extra tube and CO2 cartridge in case of a flat, and if you jump in with both feet like us, special cleated shoes to go with the fancy pedals.  Bella is still trying to convince me that a bell would make things complete. We have no choice now but to take this seriously. 

When it comes to exercise, I do better with a partner.  The plan is for Kurt and I to go together but there's only 3 little roadblocks who I affectionately refer to as Huntie, Bella Boo, and Eth Monster.  Sure they have bikes but bless Ethan's heart because his training wheels can only go around so fast.  It's just gonna take some coordination. After a quick comment on facebook, I was able to connect with an old friend who has been looking for a new cycling partner.  See Kurt...something good can actually come from Facebook.  Within a day, Brandi and I had planned to meet bright and early for a bike ride together.  What a nice surprise!  I have a new partner and she rides faster than me too.

After 2 rides, (yesterday's was about 20 miles), I can say that I am hooked.  I've mastered clipping into my right cleat and have only fallen once, but it was the most graceful fall you have ever seen.  Riding a bike with these pedals actually takes concentration.  If you're going to fall, you better snap out of your pedals.  After about 15 years riding nothing but a stationary cycling bike, I don't think I am doing too shabby.  I am a quick learner and don't give up easily.  Lance Armstrong watch out!  I have a new project!!

Darn Good Chocolate Cake

Today Bella and I decided to make a cake to celebrate our great summer and the beginning of a new school year.  She picked out this cake from my Cake Doctor cookbook.  These recipes aren't new but are totally fool proof and taste superb.  The book is loaded with pictures and each recipe calls for a cake mix in addition to other special ingredients.  SOOOO easy!  Not really low fat but sure to please.  As I always say...all foods can be consumed in moderation and all foods can fit (even if it means more exercise the next day).  The cake was a big hit!

Ingredients:
1 pkg plain devil's good or dark chocolate fudge cake mix
1 pkg chocolate instant pudding mix
4 large eggs
1 cup sour cream (I used fat free)
1/2 cup warm water
1/2 cup veg oil (applesauce may be a suitable substitute)
1 1/2 cups semisweet choc chips (I used miniature)

Spray your bundt pan and dust with flour. Shake out the excess flour.  Set the pan aside. Place a rack in the center of the oven and preheat the oven to 350. 

Place the cake mix, pudding mix, eggs, sour cream, warm water, and oil in a large mixing bowl.  Bledn with an electric mixer on low speed for 1 minute.  Stop the machine and scrape down the sides of the bowl with a rubber spatula. increase the mixer speed to medium and beat 2 to 3 minutes more, scraping the sides down again if needed. The batter should look thick and well combined. Fold in the chocolate chips making sure they are well distributed throughout the batter.  Pour the batter into the prepared pan, smoothing it out with the rubber spatula.  Place the pan in the oven.

Bake the cake until it springs back when lightly pressed with your finger and just starts to pull away from the sides of the pan.  45 to 50 minutes.  Remove the pan from the oven and place it on a wire rack to cool for 20 minutes.  Run a long sharp knife around the edge of the cake and invert it onto the rack to cool completely, 20 minutes more.  Or invert it onto a serving platter to slide and serve while still warm.

The only thing I would have done differently was make sure that the flour was more evenly spread on the bottom of the pan.  It clumped a little bit on the cooking spray.

This is Miss Sweet Tooth.  She is definitely her mother's daughter.

Don't mind the piece of cake stuck in her tooth.  Isn't she adorable?

The sour cream and pudding are the key to the moistness.

We Grow Together

More often lately I have found myself stopping and taking a closer look at my life...I've been thinking of the people I thought were my good friends but when the going got tough, they were nowhere to be found.  I've reflected on my career path and how although it was not my exact choice, each job I've had has brought about professional and personal growth that I would not trade.  I've thanked God for the family and friends I have and how each one has touched me in different ways and made me who I am today.  My wish is that somehow I have touched their lives too. 


Today I had the chance to spend some time with my oldest son Hunter.  Ever since I learned that I would be deploying for 6 months, it has sharpened my perspective on how short life truly is and how I've been given a finite number of opportunities to leave lasting impressions on those I love.  I am sure that sounds rather dismal, given the reality of the situation and where I will be going, but the truth of the matter is, for the first time ever, I am not afraid of deploying.  This is not to say that it is not on my mind constantly.  There's not a day that goes by that I don't think of what I need to do and say today to prepare my family for later.  What do I want them to remember about me and life's lessons when I am gone for six months?


So back to Hunter...the short of it is that I have come to realize more and more that he is truly his mother's son.  He is sensitive, creative, strong-willed, determined, and bright (but this is more a result of determination than a natural gift).  One of the not-so-good traits that Hunter has inherited from me is his tendency to worry and be anxious. It came to light over time. One thing Hunter differs from me in is that he is more to himself with his feelings compared to his mom who is an open book and wears her heart on her sleeve.  Yep, that's me.  Stopping to examine Hunter's thought processes and worries and where they stem from has allowed me to understand my own more clearly.  Who says that we don't learn valuable lessons from our small kids?  At 37, maybe there is still hope for me yet.


Hunter's second appointment with the child psychologist went well.  He was conversant but careful in choosing his words.  His explanation of what types of situations make him anxious such as talking in front of groups, taking tests, flying in an airplane, and meeting new people resemble my anxieties to a "t".  Genetics is truly a powerful thing.  Not once have I shared my feelings with him on these things.  During the appointment, the three of us developed coping strategies for Hunter that were tailored to his personality that can help him overcome his negative feelings and thoughts when they arise.  Is this rocket science? Of course not but nonetheless, I think it can be powerful in how it can transform his outlook from one of "helplessness" to "capable."


Not long ago, Hunter and I used to disagree on most everything.  It was only when I stopped and realized that this was more a result of us being "more alike" than "more different" that I realized there was opportunity for us both to grow closer, depending on how I reacted to his behavior.  Don't get me wrong...I don't dismiss his bad behavior or pretend not to see his poor choices.  I don't accept his strong will and give into his demands.  I know what happens when discipline is absent.  I love my kids too much not to invest the time and effort in teaching them right from wrong and holding them accountable for their actions.  But...something new that I have tried is consciously acknowledging and respecting his feelings by looking him straight in the eye and talking about them.  Sometimes they are as simple as not wanting to clean up his room and other times, he's shared with me his fear of being a failure.  Respecting Hunter as his own person, who's entitled to his feelings, whether they are helpful or destructive, has built trust and a stronger bond between us.  It's helped him to understand we'll always be there to listen no matter what the topic or concern is.  Isn't that what each of us want in life anyway?  Whether we are 10 or 70, we want to be listened to, understood, and valued by others. We want to feel loved.


Today I felt honored when Hunter shared with me that he really enjoyed our time together at the psychologist and over frozen yogurt and how we will always love me.  I feel so blessed to be Hunter's mom. 

Here's my little guy on his 2nd birthday. It was with him that I experienced many of my "firsts."  Where have the last 8 years gone?????

Here is Hunter today at 10 years old.  He's exactly who he's meant to be as God's "work in progress."  Someday he's going to change the world.  He's already changed mine...

Lessons from Las Vegas

The past couple weeks our family has been on wonderful vacations to two very different places.  A few weeks ago my parents offered to take the kids to their new home in Phoenix for two weeks while Kurt and I continued to get the new house set up as well as go to a conference for my work.  I had been to this particular diabetes conference a few times and this year's conference just happened to be in Las Vegas.  What a great spot for a getaway!






The first couple days were odd not having the kids around but we knew they were going to have a blast at Grammie and Papa's.  After we got Kherby the dog situated in the Bunk N Biscuit (http://www.mybunknbiscuit.com/), it was our turn to pack up and head out for Vegas for 6 days.  The last time we visited was for my surprise birthday present to Kurt for his 30th (nearly 7 years ago).  Attending the American Association of Diabetes Educators (AADE) annual conference is inspiring.  It truly is among the best for diabetes professionals and while it was difficult leaving Kurt to have his own fun during the day, I found the sessions, exhibits, and poster sessions to be well worth it.   The main reason I chose a career in dietetics was to help people improve the quality of their lives through good nutrition.  At times I tend to lose sight of that goal.  Being in more administrative and management positions have left me feeling more like a firefighter than a counselor on most days.  This week was a good reminder of the satisfaction I feel from helping others improve their health and more specifically, their diabetes.

90% of the sessions I attended contibuted to professional and personal growth.  There were two speakers in particular that I will especially remember from the conference.  The first was Dr Nat Strand.  She is an anesthesiologist in southern California and was on the first all female team to win the Amazing Race reality show (with her friend Kat, also an anesthesiologist). The most inspiring part of Nat's story was that she overcame the many challenges of the race that covered over 25 countries in 22 days as a Type 1 diabetic. Her talk was from the patient's perspective and she gave a wonderful analogy of how living with diabetes is somewhat like the Amazing Race where you are faced with roadblocks and challenges each day. 

The second speaker was a Washington Post columnist named Jeffrey Zaslow who was the co-author with Dr. Randy Pausch of the Last Lecture.  It's a beautiful testimony of a Carnegie Mellon University professor who spent the last few months of his life after being diagnosed with pancreatic cancer capturing what he believed to be the most important life lessons for his three young children in a "last lecture" and book. Opposed to most individuals who would struggle with a "why me?" mentality, Randy embraced the short time he had left before he died with a philosophy of "We cannot change the cards we are dealt, just how we play the hand."  If you haven't read the Last Lecture, you most definitely have to pick it up. 

After the talk, Jeffrey Zaslow was avaialable for book signing.  Even though I had already read the book, it was worth standing in a line with almost 250 other sentimental folks (mostly women) for my personally signed copy. 

The first day we must have walked over 8 miles up and down the strip. 

The strip.  We noticed that there was less gambling in the casinos and the cost of food had gone up since our last visit.  A sign of the times.

Kurt's cousin Laura drove from S. Cal to visit with us for 2 days.  This picture was taken on the first night before we went downtown for dinner and drinks.

The weather was hot but the dry heat didn't feel as hot as Texas.  Here we are on our last full day sneaking in some more sight seeing and a lunch at In N Out Burger. Now that is something you just don't get in Texas.

The entire trip was a blessing from start to finish and ended with a stop through Phoenix to pick up the kids before heading back to good 'ol San Antonio.

What will we pass on?

     This summer has been filled with several “firsts” including a first trip to camp for my oldest, Hunter.   I learned about the 6 day camp titled “Learning to Lead” at Abilene Christian University (ACU) from my good friend Amy.  Amy attended ACU and her son Anson, who is on of Hunter's best friends, was going.  Hunter and Anson are very entertaining to watch. Laughter and silliness abounds whenever they are together.  Aside from over-night sleep-overs at my parents’ and a few friends’ houses, Hunter had not experienced being away from home for more than a couple days.  We talked it up all summer and he didn’t know quite what to expect but he was all for it.

    This Christian camp came at a great time for Hunter.  Over the past few months we have noticed that he has been more curious about God and his understanding of our faith has been maturing.  It has warmed my heart especially to know that he is finding comfort in knowing that he is part of God’s bigger plan and is special just as he is.

On the spicy side salsa

Ingredients
10 large Roma tomatoes
1 large chopped white onion
4 jalepeno peppers, seeded, finely chopped
1 long green chili, seeded, chopped
2 tomatillo peppers, seeded, chopped
1 clove garlic, finely chopped
1- 12oz can tomato paste
1/2 cup bottled or fresh lemon juice
1 1/2 tsp salt
1 1/2 tsp sugar
1 tsp ground cumin
1 Tbsp oregano leaves
1/2 tsp black pepper

Directions:
Wash and boil tomatoes until skins began to separate.  Let cool.  Peel and remove core and seeds.  Place in a pot.  Using a chopper or food processor, chop onion and peppers. Combine remaining ingredients in the pot. Simmer over medium heat and stir frequently. 

She's being silly. This little munchkin couldn't stand to be in the kitchen when I chopped the peppers. 

Once you have homemade, you won't want to go back to store bought salsa. The best part of today's salsa was that Ethan (my kid who won't eat a single vegetable) loved it with his  tortilla chips. 

Check out: http://www.chile-pepper-sauces.com/canning-salsa.html for great tips on canning salsa.  I've given this as teacher gifts and it was a big hit!