The 5 Senses

We have five main sense.  In case you didn't know.  It's been so long since I learned about them, I had to clarify what they were Tuesday night at community group.  They are, in case you can't remember: Taste, Smell, Touch, Sight, Hearing.  We always have an ice breaker question each week and this week the question was "If you had to lose one of your senses, which would it be?"

Initially it seemed like an easy question to answer.  But as we delved in, suddenly, it turned into a 20 minute conversation about why each sense was necessary and what you would miss out on if you were deprived of one.

Here is how it broke down for me (and about half of the rest of the group):

Sight - NO WAY.  I think that it would be incredibly difficult to be blind.  So many things you couldn't do.  Like drive.  Or watch Psych.  Or Big Bang Theory.  Or New Girl.  Or Raising Hope.  As well as other important things, like seeing the looks on people's faces, the glimpse of a newborn baby, a baptism, a sunset or sunrise, etc...

Hearing - Music is way too much a part of my life for me to give up my hearing without a fight.  While there are some days I wish I couldn't hear my kids fight, there are other things that I NEED to hear.  Like Christmas music.  Or my favorite songs in general.  Or the laughter of a child.  It would exclude me from having to talk on the phone, which would be excellent, but there are too many other down sides.

Touch - At first, I thought this would be my choice.  I started thinking about all the times I am annoyed by my kids rubbing against my arm or tugging on my hand or just in general touching me and annoying me.  Or other people sitting next to me, too close.  Or hugging.  In that regard, it would be awesome to lose my sense of touch.  HOWEVER...I would miss the touch of a baby's skin.  I'd miss the feeling of my children's little arms wrapped tightly around my neck, or their kisses on my cheek.  I'd become a danger to myself and likely cut my fingers off while I was cooking, or bump into everything and fall down steps or have trouble driving because I can't feel my foot to push down on the accelerator, or worse, the brakes!  And while we'll keep this family friendly still, I'll say too that I would miss the "other" kind of touching.  The kind I DO like.  The kind that makes babies.  Adults, are you with me here?  I don't think that I could give that up.  Maybe in another 20 years...maybe.  But not right now.

Now it comes down to taste or smell.  These were the hardest to decide between.  On the one hand, if you can't smell the food but can still taste it, you can still enjoy all the foods you love.  On the other hand, I can't imagine never smelling bacon again.  In some ways, I think that might be worse than not TASTING bacon again.  Additionally, if you lose your sense of taste, but can still smell, wouldn't it stand to reason that your cravings for foods would lessen?  Your tongue wouldn't salivate like it does when you think of your favorite foods.  Ultimately, it would be the perfect weight loss program.  You can keep your sense of smell, enjoy the scents, but not be tempted to eat those things that are so bad for you, because you can't taste them anyway.

So ultimately, once we talked it all through, for me, I'd have to choose my sense of taste.  #1.  I need to lose weight.  #2.  I'd rather smell the foods that I love so much than eat them, because without being able to taste them, I wouldn't be as drawn to them as I am.  Things like bacon, chocolate chip cookies, anything sweet, biscuits and gravy, steak, pork chops, etc...

And not related to food, I would totally miss smelling my Autumn Walk and Holiday Wreath candles.  I might die if I couldn't smell them again!  I'm the kind of person that will open up a candle, or garlic-infused canola oil or spices/seasonings, just to smell them.  It does eventually all come back to food for me, doesn't it?

So what about you?  What sense would you choose to give up if you were forced to?

16 lbs is not less than 10 lbs

You know, it's really hard to think about how much something weighs.  Specifically when you have a restriction put on you, regarding how much you can lift.  For the next 3 weeks, I can't lift anything over 10 lbs.  I found out why yesterday.  I went to the grocery store for the first time since the big "H" surgery.  I had no problem when I was getting groceries.  It was when I went out to the van to load them that it didn't occur to me that lifting two gallons of milk (one in each hand) was a BAD idea.  If one gallon of milk weighs 8 lbs, that means that I actually lifted 16 lbs.  And let me just tell you, I felt it immediately.  You know how people who have lost a limb have phantom pain?  I'm pretty sure I experienced pain in my missing uterus.  No joke.  Lesson learned.  But it's really hard to determine how much something weighs...now I'm measuring everything based off of how a full gallon of milk feels.  I'll be glad when that part is over.  Also, laughing causes these phantom pains as well.  Beyond that, I'm feeling pretty good.

How many of you get out of making Thanksgiving dinner this year?  I've been making Thanksgiving dinner every year for quite a while now.  My mother-in-law, her husband, and my brother-in-law will be joining us, as they do every year.  Sadly my sister, who usually joins us, is unable to make it in, so I'll be left all alone on Black Friday and will most likely spend my time AWAY from the crowds, shopping online.  Or sleeping.  Or both. We usually go to the casino together too, so maybe I'll have to take my $ and what she would have taken and go alone there too.  ;-)

I'm staying pretty low key with the food this year.  Originally (as of two days ago) I was going to make three new recipes, in addition to the usual.  As I was at the grocery store, I immediately chucked all three recipes from my list and picked up boxed mashed potatoes (the horror!) and went back to desserts I was familiar with (pecan pie, Paula Dean's Pumpkin Gooey Butter Cake, and Kraft's Double Layer Pumpkin Pie).  So, beyond that...green bean casserole, my favorite homemade mac 'n cheese EVER (recipe below), turkey (duh!), boxed stuffing, boxed mashed potatoes, and of course, corn for Abbey.  See below-I can't NOT make it.

That girls loves corn!

Oh and homemade bread from my bread machine.

So, if you want to wow the family this year, if you're doing the cooking, do everyone a favor and make this version of mac 'n cheese:

1 cup macaroni (cooked and drained)
1 cup sour cream
1 cup cottage cheese
1 cup Velveeta (cut into pieces)
1 cup shredded cheddar cheese
2 eggs

If you are not doubling this recipe, use a square baker.  If you are doubling, like I ALWAYS do, use a 13x9 pan.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.  Butter your pan (or spray with cooking spray).  In the pan, "whisk" the eggs together. Basically, just mix up the yolk and the whites just enough so it's all...well, mixed up.  Add the sour cream, cottage cheese, cheeses and cooked macaroni and mix until combined.  Bake at 350 for 30 minutes, or until cheese is slightly browned and bubbly.

Best. Ever.

They took my uterus!

So many things have happened in the last couple of weeks.  Let's see, after the needle through the finger debacle, I had out patient surgery to remove a sebaceous cyst from my chest.  It was basically a large mass of oil build up that had become infected.  Nothing cancerous or anything.  I will say that it HURT after for almost a week and it was in a most inconvenient place.  My friends on Facebook didn't really like that I chose to post a picture of it, so I won't torture you with it now.  Fortunately for them, I spared them the picture of my uterus, which was my next surgery.

Last Tuesday, I had a hysterectomy.  Just the uterus and cervix were removed...so I still have my ovaries (which I swear hurt)...so NO, I am not on hormone replacement therapy.  I'll still go through the horrors that are PMS each month, until my body naturally decides to go through menopause, at which point I am praying they have some faux estrogen filled medication I can take that doesn't cause blood clots,  Because otherwise, I may have to seclude myself during the entire menopausal phase of my life.  For the protection of everyone around me.

So, I'm taking it easy.  Can't lift anything over 10 lbs for four weeks.  Kris isn't too happy I moved my empty bread machine the other day.  He seems to think that it weighs more than 10 lbs, but it didn't FEEL too heavy to me when I moved it.  My ob/gyn told me that a gallon of milk weighs 8 lbs.  Can you believe that?  One of his patients told him that, and he didn't believe them, so he went home and weighed a gallon of milk.  Sure enough, 8 lbs.  I made 4 qts of koolaid today and moved that to the fridge.  When I told Kris it seemed heavier than a gallon of milk, he frowned at me and seems to think that it weighed OVER ten lbs. I'm having him weigh it now...

And the answer is...

10.4 lbs.

Well...it seems that it wasn't TOO much over.  Though Kris still contends that .4 lbs is still TOO much over 10 lbs.  Whatever...

Just a few more weeks and my stitches should be all healed up and I can start lifting whatever I want without thought.  I will say, I catch myself starting to pick something up and then think "Wait...there's no way that's less than 10 lbs."  Laundry baskets, for instance.  Thank goodness I don't do laundry anyway!  It's great to have kids old and strong enough to switch loads!  And fold and hang their own clothes. That is pretty awesome!  One of the benefits of them growing up.

I can drive whenever I want, which is nice...so long as I am not on any narcotics.  Fortunately, the pain isn't bad enough for me to need the prescribed narcotics so those are being saved for special occasions.  Like Thanksgiving day after I've done all the cooking and my back is killing me.

Don't touch my cup!

We went to a Thanksgiving dinner at our old church tonight, and at the end, I was fully engaged in conversation with my friend Tara.  I mean...we're talking, completely absorbed.  She's actually quite delightful and we were discussing the wonderful joys of being perfect mothers, with perfect children, which we both have and are.  It was very intense.

So as we are talking, out of the blue, Tara inexplicably reaches for my 52 oz refill cup from QuikTrip.  And you could say that I "kind of" FREAKED OUT.

You know that expression "A picture is worth a thousand words?"  I can guarantee that if Tara could have taken my picture in that moment when I THOUGHT she was stealing my cup as she gathered up TRASH to throw away, it would have been quite the sight.  She could likely make good money off of that picture!  From my point of view, she was trying to pick up last remnants of trash from the table to throw it away.  Never mind that the other object she picked up was a game one of my kids had left at the table.

All I knew is that she was trying to take my cup.  No one takes my refill cup.  That's mine.  For refills.

The reality is that someone was trying to remove the tablecloth and Tara was merely trying to PICK UP my items and then was planning to put them back down once the tablecloth was removed (or so she would have me believe).

She described the look on my face as a "look of horror" as she reached for my QT cup.  Honestly...I WAS freaking out a bit.  Why on earth was she taking my QT cup to the trash???  It only took moments for all of this to occur and once we both realized what had transpired...it became extremely hilarious.  I'll admit...my response was a *little* extreme.  I take my tea very seriously.  Or rather, my refill cups.  Nobody touches my refill cups.  Apparently.  I had no idea I was as attached to that empty cup as I was.  I think I might have a problem...

Tara, feel free to explain the scenario from your point of view!

Jobless and still not writing

I really thought that once I wasn't working, I'd blog every day.  I mean...I am SO interesting.  Who wouldn't want to read this EVERY day??

Almost 3 months later, and I seem to be blogging LESS.  The only thing I have consistently done is cook dinner.  Sure, we've had a couple cereal or Eggo waffle nights, but I've done some serious cooking and baking over the last 2 1/2 months...and because I'm also not eating out all the time, I've been losing weight too, a little at a time.

So much is going on...little things and big things.  Doctor appointments about. Now, I have to find an orthopedic surgeon to take Abbey to because, for the second time in her life, she has a broken collarbone.  Same side, same place.

Poor girl!  I wish I could find the picture of her in her Snoopy sling from when she was just a toddler with  a broken collarbone.  It was pathetic and cute at the same time.  

Halloween has come and gone.  Kaleb has found his new passion - film making.  A friend of ours has been helping him, and after our participation in the National Film Challenge a couple of weeks ago, Kaleb has really taken an interest.  I still don't know if I can give out the link for you to see the film we were a part of, but as soon as I have permission, I'll put a link on here for "Dinner Time".  I'm in it, along with Katherine and Kaleb.  Now Kaleb is almost done "filming" scenes to begin editing for his own first movie, called "Halloween Wishes", which I also had to be in.  At least the roles I get cast for are true to who I am...a mean, sarcastic mother.

Kris and I will be attending the "Weekend to Remember" marriage conference in STL this weekend.  I'm sure it will be good for us.  Things like this make me nervous though.  Conference, retreat...those words evoke panic in me...because I envision large crowds of people I don't know, sitting way too close to me.