Mary ... It's Me, Not You!

Ok, this blogging is serious stuff.

In my recent post The World's Shortest Fast I told you about this fabulous book I read about a great 7-day juice cleanse by Mary McGuire-Wien.

Only I forgot to tell you the book was fabulous. And I told you how I didn't like the taste of the juice. And I quit after one day because I had a headache. I was whining I think about being hungry.

Fast forward a few days. Mary posted a comment to my blog.

She didn't sound like her feelings were hurt. She was actually very positive (probably from being so cleansed).

Now, I feel terrible that I didn't clarify that I obviously made the juice wrong and it would be delicious if only it were made properly. I also forgot to point out that I am very weak-willed and this 7-day juice fast would be a cinch for anyone else.

Except me.

Sorry, Mary. Your book was a great read (I read it cover to cover) and your juice cleanse sounded amazing on paper.

More on Our Daughters Think We're Old

Ok, my post about how our daughters think we're old has caused a stir. Maybe not an actual stir, but at least I have more to write about.


Additional mothers report about funny comments their daughters have made to them. These little girls of ours are determined to put us in our place.


Jenny: My dear sweet daughter told me I was pretty ... "especially when you wear make-up because it fixes your face."

Alison: My daughter was wondering why I had such big holes in my face (referring to my pores)!

Chris: Mine asked if I was having another baby. Me: "No, why do you ask?" Her: "Because your tummy looks like it did when Cam was in there."

Amy: My daughter's friend told me she really liked my "crack" cause "my mom doesn't have one" ... referring to my cleavage?!?
Jenny (hey, more from Jenny!): Mom, your butt is "loose"! 

To round out the assortment, I'm here to tell you that my son Trey still has on his Mommy-is-beautiful-goggles. Any new shirt or even a new coat of toe-nail polish elicits a response something like, "Nice shirt, Mommy!" or, "I like your bright nail polish Mommy!" God love him.

You're Lucky I Even Try to Cook

I am not a great cook. But I think I am a good cook (operative word: I). An original, inventive, creative cook.

I like to try to mimic things I've tried at restaurants (operative word: try).

I often fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants and cook things without a recipe. Or cook a meal using just the items I happen to have on-hand.

A pomegranate I bought on sale that's about to go bad. Kale. Havarti cheese. Stale corn tortillas. Sesame oil.

Oh, and I use spices liberally. If a little ginger is good, a lot of ginger will probably be great! (Operative word: probably.)

Nothing like a couple of kids under 7 (and a picky eater for a husband) to cut you right down to size.

Trey: Yuck. I can't eat this.

John: It's good. No, I mean it. It's not bad. Seriously. I'm going to eat it. I just had a big lunch is all.

Macy: Mom, I don't want this to hurt your feelings, but I like things better that come from a can, or a jar, or the freezer.

The best is, when you're husband chokes down one of your meals. Then the next morning you see an empty cereal bowl next to the sink from the night before.

The World's Shortest Fast

They say, "When the student is ready to learn, the teacher appears," right?

So when I spotted Mary McGuire Wien's book The 7-Day Total Cleanse I decided the book was my teacher calling me to cleanse and detoxify my body, mind and soul with a healthy week-long juice fast.

A week later, my refrigerator stocked with carrots, ginger root, beets, parsnips, celery, kale, green apples and lemon and a shiny stainless Breville juicer adorning my kitchen counter-top, I was ready to begin my 7-day juice fast.

Oh, the first morning was awesome. The vegetable broth was delicious! (Ok, perhaps not delicious, but drinkable.) My beet/carrot/ginger juice was yummy! (Again, I was able to finish it.)

Ah, but the teacher forgot to give the student the memo; that when one doesn't eat one gets hungry. By 3 pm, I was weak with hunger and had a pounding headache. And the thought of another glass of dreaded juice made me depressed.

I'll dispense with the details, the mental back-and-forth as I disentangled myself from my fasting goals. I made deals like crazy to get myself off the hook, out of this commitment.

"Kari, if I let you go back to eating real food, you (or anyone in your family) can never eat processed lunchmeat again."

"No more Diet Coke for you missy, ever. You hear me?"

"Ok, you can eat. But, can you cut back on the wine from here on out? There's no rule that says you have to have it every night."

"A nutritious smoothie every single morning for the rest of your life, you hear? Do we have a deal?"

Suffice it to say, I significantly shortened the intended duration of my juice fast (by 85%. I fasted for exactly one day out of seven). And, I "learned" that I am not a good faster and should never ever do it again.

See, like I said, when the student is ready the teacher appears.

How Did it Go, Maverick?

Flying to Oregon over the Holidays, I got to sit in the empty seat in the adjacent row on the flight out.

Meaning, John sat in the row with Macy and Trey and I sat in the aisle seat across from them with whatever random passengers chose to sit with me.

Heaven! John entertained the fidgety kids for the 3-hour flight from Tampa to Kansas City while I read all about Tiger and Elin in People. And US. (Yes of course I bought both.)

Abby, my new best friend, sat next to me. Also heading to Portland, we quickly made a deal to sit together on the KC-Portland leg, exchanged email addresses, swapped magazines and friended each other on Facebook.

Fast forward to the second leg of the flight, where I also luxuriously got to sit child-less, with my new friend Abby.

Settling into our seats, trying to ignore the noisy kids in the row across from us, Abby and I hoped the middle seat would stay empty, so we could enjoy our small bottles of Sutter Home Chardonnay with a little extra leg room. But, as it were, the flight was full and a Texas cowboy named Maverick slid into the window seat with a, "Ladies, mind if I sit with ya'll?"

Maverick was a 68-year-old Texan (and fellow blogger, I might add) with a big accent and an even bigger cowboy hat.

After a couple of glasses wine we learned, as it turns out, that Maverick was flying out to Portland on a whim to visit his on-line lady!

Yep, Maverick met her teaching a 2-step class in Galveston back in September and they've kept up relations via email all these months. Things started heating up, and he up and booked a ticket to visit her in her home-town of Portland, Oregon.

Oh, and I almost forgot this. He was surprising her. As in, HE DID NOT TELL HER HE WAS COMING IN ADVANCE. And get this. He sent her 200 yellow roses earlier that day. Just because. That Maverick has the moves.

Just goes to show you, wonderful people are dressed up in all kinds of ways and can be found in all kinds of places.

Abby and Maverick, I hope you are reading this. Abby, congratulations on your engagement and Maverick, I hope your lady friend realizes how lucky she is!

Love, Kari

I am affectionate with family and friends. I throw the love word around a lot.

I type fast (10th grade typing class served me well it turns out).

I am a practicing multi-tasker (not saying I'm good at it, I'm saying I do it).

The result? Emails like this one I sent out today.

Hi Brett,

Thanks for your note. I look forward to meeting you in person at your office on Friday to discuss the Bay Street project in more detail. I am available at 10 am, or after 2:30. Is there any additional information you can provide me to help me prepare for our discussion?

Thanks again for the opportunity.

Love,

Kari