Embracing The Process

I know I just blogged a few days ago, but can barely remember that time. It seems like a lifetime ago because SO much healing has happened in such a short amount of time.

I'm 9 days post-op now. I remember reading other blogs, and following women on Instagram who had has my same surgery who were 9 days post-op, and I remember wishing I could fast forward to that time. They looked pain-free, and so happy. I wanted to be there. Little did I know that that first full week would fly by in the blink of an eye. I can't BELIEVE it's been more than a week, and I'm just praising the Lord, and thanking the Universe that I am here. I'm healthy, I'm happy, my body is strong, and every day gets better and better.

It's actually been a really emotional week. I'm sure part of it comes from how hard my body is working to heal, so I'm more tired than usual, and also maybe a little mix of pain meds and hormones, lol. But also, I just can't stop being so grateful for this. I look in the mirror and can't even believe what I see. Yes, there is still SO much swelling, some pain, a lot of bruising, and I am still not standing fully upright (that's the hardest part right now, and causes some intense back pain), but mostly, I see a new me. When I think about it I cry. I cry a lot really.

I related all of this the other day, in my head, to my personal fitness journey. I remember reaching that goal weight after fighting SO HARD during my weight loss for that goal, and then getting there, and just basking. It feels like that. And so I'm just basking. I'm basking in what my body has been capable of, beyond what I SEE, it's what I FEEL.

I became a wife on 1/5/08, and began living my life for my husband. I became a mother on 10/20/08, and pledged my life to caring for my children and family. And then on 12/12/14, I regained a part of ME again that has been lost a little bit along the way.

It's hard to explain because I know not everyone can relate. Not everyone carries around scars that remind them of what they CAN'T be/do. But when you finally just don't have to carry it around anymore, it's like you're free.

I'm already getting a little squirmy about not being able to workout for quite some time. But there's still just so much healing that has to happen before that can begin again. In the meantime, I'm really excited to start following the nutrition plan that came with my husband's BRAND NEW workout program called Insanity Max: 30. I know that that is still something I have control of, and I am so looking forward to going through that with him!

It's funny because I've been asked so many times how I ever found the courage to share my post-baby body so openly on social media. Like I've mentioned before, it's not like it was ever really my intention. To me, it was something I wanted to hide, and always planned on doing that. But I found these waves of bravery here and there, and so there it was. My wrinkly tummy for the whole world to see. And now here I am with this tiny, flat tummy (albeit still with countless "wounds" that need to heal) that I'm TERRIFIED to share with you all!? How does that even make sense. But this blog is to document, and will one day be something that I come back to for memory, so I will drum up one of those bravery waves, and just go for it…

My first couple days were so sketchy that I literally barely got off the couch, other than having to use the restroom. Days 2&3, the pain was its worst, and I found myself near tears a few times just from the helplessness of not being able to escape the pain. But I powered through (Percocet helped ;-) )

After a few days, I was wanting to get more curious about what everything looked like, especially as I sponge bathed myself (since an actual shower couldn't happen until my drains came out at 7 days post-op). And here is some of my progress:

Bruising going down day by day. Drains still in on day 4, and were removed on day 7. Stitches in my belly button will be removed on Tuesday 12/23, which will take away from the dark appearance of my belly button :-) And yes, my incision hides perfectly under my low cut panties, and demonstrating the position of the incision is the ONLY reason you are seeing my panties! ;-)

EVERYTHING is swollen. My sides, my boobs, my lower belly, just everything. I wear a girdle-type thing that helps me to feel a little more "held in", but I will not miss it when I don't need to wear it anymore. Today was the first day I wasn't feeling actual PAIN, but I kept telling Matt I felt like I got beat up, or like kicked in the ribs or something. And lo and behold:

So much bruising! You can also tell how my posture has improved just slightly in the past couple of days, but that I'm still pretty hunched. AND that swelling, man. But I keep imagining how great it's all going to look when the swelling is gone, if it's already looking so awesome!

Dr. S said my surgery "kicked his ass", haha. We ended up being in there for about 6 hours, and he had the hardest time with my breasts. Because I've been such an active person for such a long while now, my pectoral muscle had basically forced the original implants I had, to fall SO far down, that they were just hanging by my thin skin. There was no "pocket" left for them, which explains my intense back, neck, and shoulder pain for all those years. He kept telling me ahead of time that he wasn't sure if I would have very much excess skin to remove from my breasts, and I kept telling him that I had a feeling he'd be surprised. And sure enough, there was A LOT. He had A LOT of corrective work to do, and did a brilliant job. 

 Here I am at my 7 days post-op appointment, with my 7 days dirty hair hiding under a beanie, lol.

Leaving that appointment without my drains and my "fannie pack" (aka pain pump that runs out after only 3 days, that I hated SO much) was the biggest weight lifted, aside from the surgery itself. I would do it all again next week if I had to. There is still SO much recovering to do, and yes, I would do it all over again in a heartbeat knowing how amazing I feel right now. I've cried to Matt a number of times this week just because of how happy I feel. I can't believe this is all real. I can't believe it.

This New Chapter

The build up was so much. Such an emotional process just thinking of all of the what-ifs, and imagining how everything would go.

And then the day came faster than I could blink.

The night before my surgery, I had so many things I wanted to take care of. I wanted to make our bedroom a clean and organized little sanctuary, as that is where I imagined my recovery taking place. Cuddled up in my cozy bed, and with all of my necessities right next to me on my night stand, just steps away from my nice open bathroom. But after a great chat with my mother in law that evening, she quickly changed my mind about my decision because of the fact that my bedroom is approximately 22 steps UP to the second story of our house. Oh yeah. That probably wasn't gonna happen. Plus, the thought of being completely isolated from my family for DAYS sounded awfully depressing. So Matt and I quickly chose a couch on our main level that would be my cozy little resting nest during recovery, where I could still be near the activity of my little ones, but still rest as much as possible, and be steps away from our half bathroom (since a shower wouldn't be necessary for an entire week. I know. I'll get to that).

After we laid the kids down to bed on Thursday night, I explained to them that I wouldn't see them in morning, as I held back my tears. Quinn is still young enough that she didn't fully grasp what I was explaining, but Sydnie and Parker had a few questions. First, without going into any detail after they asked why I wouldn't be there, I told them that I'd be going to the doctor where he would be helping Mommy fix her tummy, since she had some "boo boos" leftover from when they were inside of my tummy. (I didn't, and still haven't, used the word "surgery" because I just don't think it's something their little minds need to wonder about). Sydnie was mostly concerned with the fact that, since Matt would be taking me to "the doctor" early in the morning, that they would be left alone. But I assured her that Grammy would be there in the morning before they were even awake, and before the sun was even up, and that Daddy would be back right in time to get them dressed, ready, and off to school just like normal.

Once they slept, I showered, washed my hair, shaved my entire body (since I knew it'd be a solid week until the next I could), blew my hair dry, and gave myself a pretty legit beachy wave hairdo. Hey, gotta go into the next chapter of your life with bangin' hair, am I right, or am I right?
And I packed my bag for the recovery center, which included:

• Zipper front sports bra
• Underwire bra (doctor prefers underwire for breast lifts)
• Juicy velour track suit that I haven't worn in at least 4 years, lol
• Toothbrush/ toothpaste
• Hairbrush
• Face wash/ moisturizer
• Converse shoes
• Neck Pillow
• Phone Charger and cell phone  

(And I think I ended up using 4 of those things, haha!)
I fell asleep around midnight that night with the help of an anti-anxiety pill my doctor prescribed to me for the night before, so I could rest peacefully. And I would have taken it sooner, but I couldn't drink ANY water after midnight OR in the morning when I woke up, so I chugged water that night for as long as I could, haha!

The morning of came quicker than I thought it would. I woke up at about 5am to my alarm, and was calm. I washed my face and brushed my teeth, got some last minute things tidied up before my mother-in-law arrived at 5:45 (just to stay at the house with the kids while they slept), so Matt and I could get to the surgery center up in Scottsdale by 6:30.

The center is beautiful, and Matt and I felt super comfortable right away (my doctor's office was just next door, but we hadn't seen the actual surgery/recovery center until that morning). We were greeted warmly, and were taken into a small room by my nurse to fill out some paperwork. We met with the anesthesiologist first, and went over the details and what to expect. And then my amazing doctor came in for the fun part. THE MARKINGS! One of the biggest reasons I fell in love with Dr. S was the fact that he's a perfectionist. He HATES visible scars, and makes sure to tuck away any incisions he can under the undergarments YOU wear. He wants his patients feeling confident, and still able to live their lives, by the pool, on the beach, in fitness competitions, whatever the case may be. So he told me in advance to bring the tiniest bikini bottom or pair of panties I own, so that he can put the incision mark underneath them. LOVE LOVE LOVE. So I brought the tiny "PINK" brand thong style that I always wear, and sure enough, he marked me up right underneath the top of the panty line. My breasts were also marked up quite a bit. We chatted about what to expect, and that he would take good care of me, and I trusted him fully.

From then, it went pretty quickly. My sweet nurse walked Matt and me down the hall to the operation room, and that's where I hugged and kissed my sweet man. The emotions started to set in as he went toward the exit, and I headed toward the bright lights in the room right ahead of me. The operating bed was nice and warm, and they got me very comfortable with some small talk right away. When my nurse put my IV in, and chatted me up about where I'm originally from, and how many little ones I have, I knew she could see my eyes filling with tears. It was just the fear of "This is it now" that hit me. The last thing I can remember is telling my anesthesiologist that I used to live in Central Florida. And that was it. It was time.
________________________________________

What I remember about that first day and night after surgery is not very much. I was in a beautiful recovery room, with the sweetest nurses ever. I was thirsty, but had very little appetite, which I'm sure was to be expected. I was fed shaved ice pieces and freezing cold water, and was on some of the most incredible pain medication, haha! Once I did feel a little like eating closer toward the evening, I had crackers, tea, and jello. Matt was able to come back between 4pm and 7pm, and I hardly remember him being there, as I was so incredibly tired and groggy from the anesthesia. But knowing he was there was comforting. He gave me sips of water when I needed it, and just sat with me.

By about 2am, after being very in and out of sleep from having my blood pressure, temperature, pain levels, and leg pumper things (inflatable wraps that help to prevent blood clots in the legs) checked, my catheter (sorry if that's TMI friends!) was taken out, and I was told I'd need to get up to use that bathroom. That first time moving was AWFUL. Excruciating even. It took me and two nurses to hoist me into a seated position. I walked fairly well to the toilet, and peed! HOORAY! lol.

Dr. S came to see me at 7am the morning after surgery, and opened up all of my bandages.

I could NOT believe I was looking at what is now my body. I held a mirror as he showed me all of the details, and what he did here, and what he did there, and I just kept saying, "Thank you." I still don't know if he knew how much those moments with him meant to me.

There is still so much swelling, and of course I will have these wires from my pain pump that looks like a freaking fanny pack, and these drains (oh, these fucking drains. I hate them) until Friday. And the swelling will take weeks and months to fully disappear. But what I already see is just beyond my wildest imagination.

I still have a bit of pain, but it does get better with each passing day. And I miss sleeping in my big cozy bed, but until then, I can't complain too much about my little nest here in the living room!

I've been blown away and tearful constantly by all of the love and support. Trust me, I am WELL AWARE that this was an ELECTIVE surgery. Yes, there was an element of medical necessity with the hernia and awful muscle damage. But there are just SO many more things going on in this world that deserve prayers and attention than me and my current condition. And yet, you still offer them freely. And for that, I cannot thank you enough. Your love and energy is what gets me through.

It's Tomorrow.

When I started planning for this whole thing, it felt a little bit like it would never come. And yet, here I am, really just HOURS from go time.

This week has been a little bit of a roller coaster. Lots of major excitement, because I've waited SO LONG for this, but also lots of nerves and fear that's crept in too, and SO much gratitude that we're actually able to make this come true. I try not to allow those fearful feelings to stick around for too long, and have really thrown myself into work and my family, and prepping for Christmas (I've NEVER been this ready so far in advance! Yay me!), and organizing my little nest so that I can feel completely at peace in my space while I recover.

I know there are risks. The risks are what kept me from sleep for a few nights there. But my faith is stronger, and I am pretty strong too. If I can make it through natural, unmedicated childbirth… I can make it through this. I've also been a little stressed about not being able to workout for multiple weeks. That's going to make things tough for me, but I want to make sure my body has ALL the time it needs to recover. And hey, maybe when it's time to get moving again, I'll be able to rock just a sports bra like I've always fantasized about ;-)

I made a video the other day, and kept it to myself for a couple days, but I think it's the right time to allow it to be "out". Take a peek if you feel like it:

Matt thinks we should take some official "before" pictures tonight, just to have them. Although I feel like I have taken a milling pictures already, and my doctor's office has as well. Here's one that I sent to my BFF labeled "#byfelicia" (LOL):

I can't believe how much skin there really is there! (It completely covers my undies when I pull- wow) How's that for TMI for you? #byefelicia for REAL. See you never.

If you're awake at 7:30am mountain time tomorrow, and you've got a prayer/happy vibe/positive thought to spare, I'd love you forever if you sent it my way <3

Steph's FAVE 'Skinny' Crockpot Taco Soup

First of all, I h.a.t.e. the word "skinny".

I guess a better word to use would be "healthier", or "light", or something like that. But "skinny" is usually the popular choice, so I just used it.

Ok, good. Now that that's off my chest, we can move on. PHEW.

So, I first discovered this recipe YEARS ago, right when we had moved to Arizona. I had just had our third baby, and I was ALL about the crockpot. It's easy, you throw it all in the thing and it cooks for you while you go about your business, AND usually you eat for a couple days from one batch of whatever you threw in that magical little cauldron. I was breastfeeding at the time, and the original recipe called for a lot of onion. And my baby HATED when I ate onions. So, once I figured that out, I customized the recipe to my little nugget's liking as fast as I could, so we could all sleep at night ;-)

Since then, this has become a STAPLE in our house. And it's even BETTER as leftovers. OMG.

Here's what you'll need:

• 1- 1.5 lbs lean ground turkey
• Half of a medium onion, chopped (like I mentioned above, I got away without the onion, and it was still SO yummy)
• 10 oz can Rotel tomatoes with green chilies
• 1 15oz can Red Kidney Beans
• 1 15oz can Black Beans
• 1 15oz can Pinto Beans
• 1 15oz can Yellow or White Corn (optional, in case of allergies)
• 1 packet of your favorite taco seasoning OR you can use my homemade CLEAN taco seasoning recipe***
• 1 cup water OR low sodium chicken broth

Here's what you do:

In a large skillet, brown your turkey meat the same way you'd prep for tacos! Once meat is brown, follow directions on packet (OR if you're using my homemade seasoning, use that to taste, and add water) let your meat simmer to soak up all the seasoning goodness. Usually while the turkey is browning, I load everything else into the crockpot. I don't drain any of my cans- just dump them right on in there! If you want to drain your cans, that's totally fine, but you'll probably want to add a little extra broth or water to your mixture. Once all of your cans are emptied, add your turkey meat to the crockpot too, and cook in the pot on HIGH for 2-4 hours OR on LOW for 4-6 hours. You really can't go wrong on cook times, but the longer those flavors have to meld together, the better ;-)

Serve with some organic corn chips, a little dollop of plain Greek yogurt (or sour cream if you'd prefer- tastes the same to me), and a sprinkle of some shredded cheese (ALL of these are optional), and you're ready to dive in! ENJOY!


***Homemade Taco Seasoning Ingredients

• 1 part chili powder
• 1 part ground cumin
• 1 part garlic powder
• 1 part onion powder
• 1/4 – 1/2 part crushed red pepper

Pre Ops And Panic

Ok, well that title might be slimly dramatic.
But nevertheless, this is really getting real.

I imagined my first mammogram happening at a much riper age than the one I am currently at. I didn't picture it being for anything other than routine, but just pictured myself, you know… older. But there I was, topless with a stranger, and a large machine clenched around each breast. I felt so funny in the waiting room, before I went in for my exam. I looked around at the other ladies in the waiting room with me, all of us with our little robes on together, and I imagined their stories and why they might be there too. I hoped they were there for just routine exams, but realized also that that might not be the case. And I started to feel sad. And a little selfish. That on this day that was SUCH a non event for me, and technically classified as "just cosmetic", those ladies might be facing such a hard battle.

It's hard not to shake those feelings. To think that what I'm doing is just in vain. Because part of it is. That's the truth of the matter.

And then the guilt. But I feel that way pretty often as a mom and a wife, and I do think that's a normal part of those roles. That guilt sort of follows us women around, and creeps its way in at the most inopportune times. We question whether we should be spending money on those new jeans when the kids could use an extra pair of shoes instead. And we stop ourselves from taking the first bite of anything before anyone else has. Are we spending enough time with our spouse? Maybe I could have stayed up just a little later to get that last load of laundry done? Creepy guilt. Forking over those cashier's checks today, just a month before Christmas, there was that guilt [but also an immense amount of THANKS that we're now in a position to DO this, thanks to Beachbody].

And so these past few weeks of all of this preparation and planning for an event that's going to have me laid out for a solid week, probably longer, and no lifting my kids, or bending down to pick things up for them, or bathing them… I could go on and on. It's been a roller coaster. My to do list to make sure I'm ready for this thing is a mile long, and keeps me up at night. When I was 22 and had my original breast augmentation, I was newly engaged, but didn't have to worry. I wasn't responsible FOR anyone. I signed those disclosure papers with maybe a tiny twinge of the reality of the situation, but nothing even close to what these past few weeks have been like.

But yet, I'm EXCITED. I know what's on the other side of the pain I know I'll experience. And I WANT that. I'm not really imagining what I'll physically look like [although I can only imagine it's going to be a hell of a lot better than the pre-op photos my nurse took of me today in those hideous white surgical panties]. But more than that, I see myself visiting family in California next Summer, and actually taking my tank top OFF. Wearing a bikini in public for the first time in 6 years, and being able to run around with my kids on the sand without worrying about something "showing". I imagine myself living without back pain because my abdominals will be "back together" where they belong. That's what I imagine.

So between now and that time, I will continue to prep, and know that my support system is BIG. The loving words I received when I "came out" to you all last week was like therapy for my heart. I'll probably be done with my Christmas shopping earlier than I've ever been, the house will be completely decorated, and I'll actually have Christmas cards sent out this year AND on time, lol, just so I know it's ALL DONE before my surgery date [which is December 12th, for those of you who've asked]. It's been a rush to know this actually happening. And even though there's an incredible mix of emotions, I am manifesting ONLY the positive. I know that my body is fit and healthy and strong, and I am capable of having a flawless recovery. I am focusing on the good, and clearing out any thoughts that don't give me strength.

It's Time

Let me start by saying that there isn't really a good place to start, actually. That no matter what, someone in this life will disapprove or share a different opinion. And that's why it wasn't easy. To get to this point. It was actually a two year mental roller coaster. There was an internal battle that would be hard to explain in its entirety. But at the end of the day, I'm doing this because I care deeply about my happiness. I cannot preach self love as a health and fitness coach if I do not hold myself to the same standard.

A lot of you reading may know that I have three children. They were born in October of 2008, December of 2009, and October of 2011. My oldest child was still 2 years old when my third was born. So if you're doing the math, that's three pregnancies and births in 36 months. I'm what my girlfriends would say is "teeny", and it's hard for people to believe that 3 close-to-8-pound babies (and one 8.6 lbs) came from my body. I was the definition of "all baby", and in addition my stomach stretching beyond what seemed humanly possible, I gained 60, 50, and 40 pounds with each pregnancy. So my little frame had been through the RINGER in those three years.

I fought (and fight) hard for my fitness. After my last babe was born, I was ALL IN with my new lifestyle. I saw all of those extra pounds melt off thanks to the fight, and then I watched fun new muscles pop up! I had NEVER seen muscle definition before, so I was thrilled! But there were things that didn't change, despite my hard work. I promised myself that I would do ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING I could do to "fix" what I could fix myself, and after all the creams, wraps, oils, and scrubs I could try, I knew that genetics had won the battle.

I wanted to be one of those other women so bad.

The ones who had babies and bounced back immediately with little to no work required. They carried no trace or mark or any giveaway that they had ever even been pregnant. I imagined that's how I would be because that's how it was for all of my friends. They just had babies, and then were right back in their bikinis that following Summer. But I wasn't one of them.

Or one of the ones who, despite their obvious marks from pregnancy, they were happy. Confident even. They "wore their stripes proudly", and even LOVED their stretch marks and wrinkly, stretchy skin.

But neither of those types were me.
I kicked my own ass for my fitness, and grew to LOVE how I felt being in the best shape of my life. But there was that skin.

Oh that extra skin. How it taunted me. Just hung there over all of my hard work, made clothes fit so strangely, and found itself getting pinched in the fly of jeans. I'd pull at it, try to move it out of the way and imagine what I'd look like without it there. I'd cry over it, curse it, and find myself binging from the emotion of it all, which started a complicated relationship with food. To work SO HARD for something, never to see the result you know you deserve. It's a mind game. It made its way into my relationship with my husband, and crushed the confidence I should have had as the wife of a man who ADORED me just the way I was. It found my way into my business, which is centered around fitness and my love for it, and stole my joy, brought on ugly comparisons to others, and took the fun out of "the journey". That extra skin got in the way of EVERYTHING. Literally.

And here I was, teaching others to love their bodies. To "never give up", and not have excuses. But this cross to bear started to be too much to carry.

I listened to people discuss their marks from pregnancy, and say they were sweet reminders of when their babies grew inside of them. I LOVED that sentiment. I wanted so badly to adopt that way of thinking myself, but no matter how hard I tried to let myself embrace my wrinkly, raisin, "old" skin... I just couldn't. I wanted to hide from it, and keep it covered. The way I look at it is that my children here on this earth, walking around in front of me are my reminders. When I look at them, I remember their tiny bodies in my arms, and their sweet, soft, warm skin right after I birthed them. I remember their little (and big) kicks from inside of me, and how overjoyed I was when I met each of them. I remember everything. I do not need to look in the mirror 6 years after I became a mom to be "reminded" of my journey of motherhood. My children are walking blessings, that I thank The Lord for every day. That my body was strong enough to house each of them for 9 months, and give them life, and then produce nourishment for each of them. But I wanted my body back. I wanted to feel my age, which in my book still counts as "young"

Beyond the vanity of the situation, the trauma of those back to back pregnancies had taken its toll. I have diastasis recti (muscle separation of the abdominal), with an opening big enough to fit 3 fingers into. And a hernia that needs to be repaired before it leads to complications later on down the road. I feel pain in that area often. And so, my husband and I finally decided that it's time to fix those issues before they turn into bigger issues.

Beyond that, and while I'm just getting it all out there… In my past life (you know, when I was 22 and didn't know any better), and when fitness + this active lifestyle WASN'T a priority to me, I opted for a breast augmentation surgery that gave me breasts I feel that NOW are uncomfortably large for my body. I want to run and jump without pain in my back and shoulders, and not have to modify my workouts because of that pain, I've decided on a "redo", to become a size that I feel suits my frame better, and will allow be to comfortably live the active lifestyle I love. YUP, smaller, not bigger.

Like I mentioned earlier, this wasn't an easy decision. So many connections were made with so many incredible people because of this wrinkly tummy of mine. And a part of me battled with how this decision might let people down in a way. But my fear in this journey is that my transparency has been mistaken for confidence, and that to me feels dishonest. If I was put here on earth to help and inspire others, I have to be real. Real with you, and real with me. And my hope is that opening up about this new chapter of my story will show that we can be OKAY with our flaws, but also be okay with wanting to fix them. We can start fresh, and start over whenever we decide to.

You're Here! {Eeek!}

I used to blog. Pretty often even. But that seems like a previous life now.

I blogged about my babies' first steps, pregnancy, baking pies, baseball games, and so many other things that made up that picture perfect little life I led. But so many things are different now. Not different in a bad way. Actually, things are different now in a way that I never thought they could be, and I kinda sorta like life even better now.

If you haven't read my story yet, or you don't follow me on Facebook, you can check it out to get a better feel for what I'm talking about. But to recap in a sentence or two… I WAS a Major League Baseball wife, but then my husband's career ended, we lost our house, went into debt, lost our way, and then were able to turn it all around as a family. After that fall from grace, as I sometimes call it, it has taken us a couple HARD years of rebuilding. But it's funny how things work out sometimes. Perspective changes are necessary, and I'm forever grateful for ours.

It took me a long time to be ready to blog again. I knew that when I DID start blogging again, it would be raw, and I'd have to be pretty honest and open about some things that aren't the most comfy to talk about. But that's life, and if there's one thing I've learned, it's that the uncomfy things are often what promotes the most growth and connects us together in our journeys.

So, thank you for being here, and keep your eyes peeled for some big {scary + wonderful} things coming soon!

Caprese {Cauliflower Crust} Pizza

If you’re anything like me, PIZZA is the go-to treat meal of the week.
Every Friday, my family and I LOVE to indulge in pizza from our favorite delivery place. I am a firm believer in the fact that having one solid, amazing treat meal per week is good for you. Helps you to get that out of your system each week, so you’re less likely to stray from the plan during the rest of the week.

And while I appreciate a couple slices of cheesy pizza heaven… it has a tendency to make me feel a little bit… well, gross afterward. That grease, and that gluten in the crust gets me every time. So, I’ve heard tons about this cauliflower crust craze, and thought it was time to give it a shot. Actually, I should admit that I’ve made a cauliflower crust pizza before, but it was less than perfect. My crust came out super soggy, and wouldn’t hold together. Tasted great, but wasn’t much like pizza at all, lol! THIS TIME though… this time, I discovered THE SECRET to perfect cauliflower crust!

Here’s what you’re going to need:
1 full head of cauliflower {about 4 cups of cauliflower florets}
Your favorite salt-free seasoning mix {I used Mrs. Dash, but if you’re following the 21 Day Fix meal plan, you can use those seasoning mixes} I also added some Himalayan Salt and ground black pepper. 1/3 cup of shredded mozzarella
1 egg, beaten
Parchment paper
Then for your toppings, it’s really up to you.

To create a Caprese Pizza like I made, you’ll need:
Fresh mozzarella {I found a “round” from Trader Joe’s that was pre-sliced}
Fresh basil leaves
Fresh tomatoes, sliced

I wish I had taken pictures of the entire process, but I’m going to explain it all as best I can!
First, preheat your oven to 400 degrees. While your oven is preheating, you can prep your crust! The head of cauliflower I used produced almost exactly 4 cups of florets.

Place all of your florets into a blender or food processor, and pulse until you’ve achieved a rice-like consistency. Then, in a medium pot, bring about 1 inch of water to a boil. Then put your cauliflower rice into the pot and boil for about 5 minutes. Drain your cauliflower rice in a colander and let it cool!

Now here comes the SECRET! Once your cauliflower rice has cooled, lay a thin dish towel out on your counter, and dump the rice onto the towel You’re going to twist it up like cheese cloth, and SQUEEEEEEEEZE! You will be surprised how much water those littler suckers hold in! Squeeze until you don’t get much liquid anymore, and then dump all of your drained rice into a large bowl!

You’ll then add your beaten egg, your 1/3 cup of shredded cheese, and your seasonings {I just seasoned to taste, to offset the sweetness of the cooked cauliflower taste}. Once you’ve mixed that up really well, you’ll dump your mixture out onto a parchment paper-lined baking sheet. Then you’ll get your hands a little dirty by molding your “dough” into whatever shape you prefer! I have a rectangular baking sheet, so I made my crust into a rectangle, and kept it about 1/3 of an inch thick. Once you’ve got a good shape, stick it in the oven, and bake at 400 for 30-35 minutes, depending on how hot your oven gets!

Once you’ve got a delicious looking crust, now you can place all of your toppings on however you’d like! Get creative, and have fun! Once you’ve got your toppings loaded, put it right back in the oven for 5-10 minutes depending on what toppings you’ve got {if you’re using only veggies, you won’t need to go a full 10 minutes, but if you’re using some pre-cooked meat, I’d go a little longer}. ENJOY, friends!