an apple a day…


… or two, or three… may just keep the sanity away in some cases!

Let me explain…

Last year, I got a chance to pick a whole slew of apples

(well, okay, I loaded up the kids and we ALL picked a whole slew of apples!)

Then had visions of a years worth of applesauce running through my head…

It was all a very beautiful plan, really, as all plans begin.

We picked, washed, cut, boiled,

Sauced, bottled, and canned.

and after a HARD days work,

I had a whole slew (we’re talking 30+) quarts of good, ole fashioned, homemade applesauce.

I could see it now,

The praises, the admiration,

the mother-of-the-year-award…

So I opened the first bottle (in hindsight, something I kinda, maybe shoulda done right after the first batch!)

and lovingly dished it up for my kids (who LOVE applesauce, BTW!)

and after the first spoonfull,

as if on cue,

they all made that scrunchy-what-is-this-vile-thing-that-has-dared-to-cross-my-lips face

and asked, “Where is the normal applesauce??!”

(scratch the ‘hail to the chief’ intro to the mother-of-the-year award… )

And so, as apple season has come upon us once more,

and I sit here a year later,

and a year wiser,

I still loaded up the kiddos,

still picked a whole slew of apples,

still sliced and diced them,








but this time, I poured ooey, gooey sauce over them

and turned them into:

Apple Pie Filling!








… lots and lots…

of apple pie filling.


So c’mon over, sit a spell –

I’ll whip up a hot apple pie just for you!

… and even offer it with a side of applesauce

(because we also have a years supply of that, after all!)


What’s RIGHT with this picture??

I mean, really, there is plenty to discuss over what is wrong with this picture…
like the lack of pants…
Or the yet-to-be-wiped-off chocolate on her mouth…
Or the fact that she is so enthralled with the TV that she won’t look at the camera…
Or even the fact that she is eating in the family room…

But wait… lets just get over the eating in the family room, and hone in on what she is eating in the family room…

Yes, it is upside down,
But did you get that??

She is eating…
No added sugars, no candies hidden inside.
Just pure, unadulterated Fiber.
Of her own accord,
Straight from the pouch
(that she opened herself)

So, on this momentous day, where there were oh-so-many things wrong…
Let’s take just a tiny moment and witness a little miracle:

yes, there is something very RIGHT with this picture after all!

Nutrition Nerds Unite!

Once a year
I get to board one of these

Say Goodbye to these:

Meet up with some of these:

And eat lots of these:

Oh yea, and attend lots of these:

Yep, once a year I get to spend 4 days with my fellow nutrition nerds
and learn the latest and greatest
in all that is food and nutrition

I always feel so re-energized
and remember why it is
that I love this field so much.
And am re-solved to spread the word
and the love

of all things FOOD!!

No one asks your shoe size…

I’m sitting here
writing this post
with numb feet.
Because I tried to tell myself that I still wear the same size of shoes that I have for the past decade.
And I ordered a super cute pair of black workout shoes (that I found on a killer sale!).
But after an hour of wearing them,
The sad truth
Is that I am just not the same size
that I was 10 years ago.
… which really bothers me
because I was never one with dainty feet to begin with.
(can you say size 10??! In 10th grade??! Yup… that’s me, miss amazon ape over here!)

But to make matters worse,
I ran across these beauties a few months ago
(In the clearance isle, of course!)

And looked at the size.
Which was not a 10…
it said the dreaded “11”
Which I know is just one size up…
but there is something about the size “11” section
that loses all cuteness
and any sense of style or fashion
… It’s as if the companies said, “whoa, if you are a size 11 you have a whole slew of issues to deal with, so we’ll make the shoe selection easy: flat slip on in brown or black. Take your pick.”

… So when I saw these red babies, I sat
and deliberated
I mean, although my feet have been killing in my ‘normal’ size shoes,
I hadn’t yet openly admitted that I was actually the beyond ginormous king-kong footed person my shoes where telling me I was.
But when the price is $6 (yes, that is $6.00!), I couldn’t resist.
I took them home and didn’t wear them for a while (have you ever done that, buy something, but give it some time, just in case you want to take them back??! strange quirk, I know!)
But finally broke them out.
And guess what, my feet rejoiced! I actually wore them the whole day (Without numbness!)
and not one person walked up to me and asked,
“Say, what size are those shoes??!”
In fact, it was just the opposite…
I started a lecture series to a group of youth, and the person introducing me said (she had never met me before, mind you), “Let’s get started, because we have a really fun speaker today!… she’s wearing red shoes, and anyone who wears red shoes is going to be a fun speaker!”
You can believe I strutted those shoes like a peacock showing their feathers!
I felt so great about it in fact, that I ran out and bought:

… yes, those are incredibly high heels (6 inches to be exact)
which, when paired with my 5’11” body length, amounts to what could be godzilla walking down the street.
But they are Blue! and size…
(and yes, on another clearance sale!)

And ya know what?
Not one time has anyone asked what size they were.

So, why do you care about this at all??

Well, I find it ironic
that in the ‘diet crazed’ world in which we live…
we live and die by the numbers we see here:

When, in reality, not one person is going to walk up to you on the street
and casually say, “Hey, how are you doing? How much do you weigh?”

I have had so many clients put themselves into a tail spin
because they stepped on the scale,
possibly after they drank one extra glass of water…
and saw a .5 pound increase (I’m not kidding about that number, either!).
Many-a-bag of oreos have been consumed in the aftermath of the dreaded

Does the scale help in weight loss?
and no

What really helps in weight loss
Is knowing yourself.
If you know that the numbers on that scale send you into a bad place.
Throw your scale away. (I’m not kidding about that, either!)
(if it doesn’t send you to the double dipped chocolates, then by all means, keep it in place!)
There are SO MANY more indicators of health and and in-shape body –
Why do we put the ‘scale’ numbers on some sort of shrine??!
Wouldn’t you much rather take note by the way your clothes fit?
Case in point:
If you start a weight lifting program,
You are going to build muscle (a good thing!)…
which weighs more than fat.
… in other words, you could have the exact same weight on the scale, but if you are building more muscle and losing more fat, the body size is going to shrink (even if the numbers don’t!)
… I use models in class of a 5 pound glob of fat (pretty big) and a 5 pound slab of muscle (much smaller).
So if you are on a body-changing plan (notice I didn’t way weight loss plan!)…
pick up the weights
and (if it sends you to a bad place) throw away the scale 🙂

… then go buy some new shoes!
… from the clearance isle…
… in the right size!

It’s my party…

and I’ll eat cake how I want to!








… as I have been reading about mindfulness, one of the points that really caught my attention is that to be mindful is not to be perfect.  It’s about coming to a space where you see where you are, and fully accept where you are, how you are, and who you are.

… and one of the areas that I have fully come to accept about myself is this:  I am a topping girl.  Let me explain…

I love THIS much frosting with about this much cake. (Many years ago, a friend gave me a tub of frosting for my birthday.  Best.present.ever.)

Love the chocolate chips… could take or leave the cookie

Love pie guts… can’t stand the crust

I’d love to split an oreo with you… I’ll slurp out the cream and you can have the cookie part

creme filled donuts… love em… minus the donut

I’ll lick the topping right off the donut… then throw away the rest (a trait, which incidentally two of my kids have picked up… and makes me laugh every time I see it in action)


I know this is not exactly ‘kosher’ behavior, so I try to act like the rest of you ‘normal’ people when eating, and pretend that I like it all the same.

But on my Birthday, when my hubby brings home a double dose chocolate cake from the best bakery in town…

I have absolutely no qualms about turning this:



into this:












Yes, I even funneled out the mouse-like layer divider… and didn’t bat an eye…

ya know… because I’m mindful like that ;).