I know most of you started following this blog of mine back in The Fall when I first "came out" about my surgery that I was planning. It was a nerve-wracking time for me, since I felt like my whole life was going to be changing. And it was! In SO many ways. It felt like the clouds parted, and I could just breathe again. It's felt like SUCH a long process since December 12th 2014, but at the same time… it kinda flew by! I feel so good, and will blog all about my progress this week!
But there's something else I have to talk about too.
It's the ENTIRE reason I was even ABLE to make that huge transition in my life possible.
If you follow me on social media, then you probably hear me talk a lot about coaching, and all of the things I love about it. It's changed everything for my family and me.
But social media is funny. People talk about how "AMAZING" things are all the time, and it CAN be a lot of smoke and mirrors.
I personally like PROOF. EVIDENCE that things are legitimate, and are what someone says they are. So in the name of TRUTH, I'm going to get wayyyy out of my comfort zone.
{The last time I posted anything like this was on my Facebook page, and it was met with incredible support, BUT I still felt weird about it. SO on the blog it will go} :-)
I'm not sure what your reaction to that photo is. I'm not even sure if I know what MY reaction to it is.
THREE years ago, the phone stopped ringing with opportunities for my professional baseball player husband. We had just had our 3rd child in a 3 year span of time a couple months earlier, and had just moved across the country from Florida to Arizona. We had a massive mortgage payment for our home in Florida that wouldn't sell {thank you, recession}, a rent to pay for the condo we were living in, and ZERO income. We started to tap into our life savings, and even our 401k. It was a VERY scary time for us.
TWO years ago, I was just months into this new "coaching thing" that I was still not fully understanding, but saw my friend find some success with it, so I thought… why not? I was making pennies at this point, but something in me was coming alive. I had fallen in love with fitness, was actually ENCOURAGED to grow personally {and DID!}, and was meeting people who actually GOT ME. I never knew friends like these, a community like this, and so… I was hooked.
ONE year ago, I had just become a "6 figure earner" within Beachbody, which is when a coach starts to earn $2,000 WEEKLY {we get paid every Thursday}. My team and I had just wrapped up the year as an ELITE team, which means as a group, we helped A LOT of people get fit and healthy, AND start coaching businesses of their own. Last Summer, we also were able to take our VERY FIRST family vacation together. And after a couple years of COMPLETE rebuilding… that was a treat I'll never forget. Our oldest daughter also started ballet lessons for the first time, I could SHOP again a little bit {lol}, and we were paying down debt, and paying our savings accounts back for all the depletion we can caused.
TODAY, my WEEKLY income is what my MONTHLY income was one year ago. {WHAT?!?!}, we are saving MACHINES, will be buying a HOME within the next couple of months, our son is going to play his first season of t-ball, we'll TRAVEL as a family, and most of all… we'll live FREELY to do whatever it is we feel in our hearts we want to do.
Some people look at money as "material", and that's true, that it buys THINGS. But it can also buy precious experiences and memories, and also {and maybe most importantly} PEACE OF MIND. We no longer have to go to bed stressed, bickering, and tense because of our financial issues. Our children will know what it's like to have a HOME that is theirs, where they can pick the color paint on their walls. They'll have a backyard that's safe to play in, and a neighborhood they can grow up in. Money isn't just material… it's freedom.
Before you jump to the conclusion that this is "too good to be true"… listen to that little whisper in your heart telling you that this would be just as life changing for you as is has been for me.
And if you hear that little whisper too, take my advice and don't wait 8 months to say YES like I did ;-)
You can apply HERE for more information. <3
Sunday, March 15, 2015
Saturday, January 24, 2015
Spiralize All The Things
Have you heard of these interesting little contraptions that allow you stick a vegetable in them, and turn them into VEGETABLE PASTA? I know, I know, who would've ever thought of something so clever. Actually, I think I'm really late to the party on this one. My friends have been talking about "zoodles" forever now, and since I don't do a TON of the cooking anymore (Hubs has taken on most of that since my business really took off), I didn't jump right on board because I figured this was something I'd have to slave the day away to achieve NOODLES MADE OF VEGETABLES.
But thankfully, I stumbled upon one of these Veggetti things at Target the other day, and decided I needed to woman up and give it a shot. I loaded us up on some fresh zucchini, ground turkey, and some organic pasta sauce, and was off to the races.
And here's my findings:
This thing is friggin' genius.
SO SIMPLE, SO FILLING, SO GUILT-FREE, AND ZERO "PASTA BLOAT".
Here's what I did…
- Spiralize 1 large zucchini
- Brown your ground meat (I prefer to use organic ground turkey)
- Heat a couple TBSP olive oil in a separate pan, while meat is browning
- Dump spiralized zucchini (aka "Zoodles". Get it?) into heated olive oil
- I seasoned my zoodles with some ground black pepper, a little pink himalayan salt, and some garlic powder, while they were sautéing
- Once zoodles were cooked through, and took on a "soft" appearance (cook to taste), I pulled them off the burner
- Dump your pasta sauce into your browned ground meat
- Serve yourself up your hot zoodles with some quick and easy meat sauce on top, and even sprinkle with a little parmesan!
I even made you a video!
Sunday, December 21, 2014
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:
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.
Tuesday, December 16, 2014
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:
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.
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
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.
Thursday, December 11, 2014
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:
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
Tuesday, December 2, 2014
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
Monday, November 24, 2014
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.
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.
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