Uh Oh, The Moment of Truth

Cameron came over after work last night. He often stops at Arby’s after work, and, when he does, sometimes he brings something home for Chelsea, maybe a roast beef sandwich or an order of curly fries.

I was just getting ready to slide under the covers when I heard Cameron’s keys hit the dining room table. “The boy’s home,” I said to Chuck, using Chelsea’s terminology. She often refers to her brother as “the boy.” We’ll be watching a movie in the living room sometimes and she’ll see him drive by the picture window in his convertible and say, “There goes the boy.”

As I announced Cameron’s arrival to Chuck, we both scrambled out of bed and headed down the hallway to meet him, as he was carrying Chelsea’s roast beef sandwich to her room.

Chuck and I both had weighty matters to discuss, in our own estimation, and spoke at the same time. Chuck was excited about the Royals game and had important plays and outcomes to discuss. I was more interested in feeding my son.

After initial greetings, I said, “Do you want some pizza thingies?”

“Sure!” Cameron said, happily.

Good! Now I could find out what he thought of my new Eggplant Pizzas that we had for dinner! The tricky part was getting him to taste them despite the rather obvious visual difference to most pizza. I remembered how he had balked at trying my dressing-less salad earlier in the day.

I had six pizza “burgers” left on the plate in the fridge. I selected one of the smaller ones and put it on a styrofoam saucer and put it in the microwave for twenty seconds, and then ten more when I wasn’t sure it was heated enough.

He curiously eyed the dark purple edging on the pizza, saying, “What’s that?” as he settled into his chair at the dining table.

“Pizza,” I said, simply, as he was taking his first bite.

“Mm,” he said, and then he added, “No, I mean what’s underneath here?” as he lifted it up and peered at the bottom. I had known exactly what he meant. I saw this question coming from a mile away. Uh oh. The moment of truth. I was afraid to hesitate, even for a moment, though, lest he see through any–even imaginary–veiled attempt to pull something over on him.

“Eggplant,” I replied brightly, but I didn’t want to leave it at that because I realized how “foreign” it sounded, even to me, so I rushed on. “Until today I had never tried eggplant before in my whole life, but I liked it! Isn’t it good?”

“Mm, I like eggplant,” Cameron responded, as he continued to take more bites, “but how come you only gave me a small one?”

“I wanted to make sure you liked it first,” I said. “Do you want another one?”

“Yes,” he said, “only give me a big one this time.”

“I made the pizza sauce myself,” I rambled as I got another one off the platter and took his saucer from him to put back in the microwave. “Chelsea and Dad thought it was a little spicy, but I didn’t think it was.”

I was tickled. My son loved my Eggplant Pizzas! I’ll be making these again. Chuck was a little down-in-the-mouth about them in the beginning, saying they would be better on a bun or crust.

“But they wouldn’t be better for you,” I insisted. “These won’t hurt your blood sugar.”

Despite his grumbling, he ate five of them. He took his blood sugar after dinner, and it was 113, much better than his blood sugars the last couple of nights after his corn on the cob.

I followed the recipe as closely as I could, but I used two full cans of diced tomatoes in the sauce, as opposed to the two cups that it called for. I’m glad I did because it helped dilute the 1/4 teaspoon of crushed red pepper, and it gave me enough sauce to easily cover all sixteen or seventeen slices of eggplant.

Cameron is the only one in our family who likes pepperoni and he hardly ever eats with us, so instead of the pepperoni I used ground beef–which I thoroughly rinsed with very hot water and drained–mushrooms, onions and green, red, and yellow peppers.

After I cooked the sauce, as directed, I let it cool and then blended it in my Nutribullet. The recipe was easy to follow, and it turned out splendidly.I will be fixing this one again. Next time, for Chuck and Chelsea’s sake, I may cut down a little on the crushed red pepper.

Yesterday was a Trim Healthy Mama day to the core, from breakfast all the way through dinner, and I couldn’t be happier–or healthier!


Today?  So far, so good. My breakfast is under my belt, and I am 25% on-plan for this Thursday! Now to get my treadmill out of the way.

Stats for 7/30/15:
Weight: N/A
Exercise: 1.5 miles on the treadmill
Blood sugar:
Breakfast (8:30) E: Ezekiel toast and Blueberry Cheesecake ShDSCF3633ake
Lunch (12:00) FP:  salad with lean turkey strips, lettuce, homegrown grape tomatoes, celery, onions, and cucumber
Afternoon snack (3:30) E: Gala apple and either a shake or a Triple Zero Greek yogurt
Dinner (7:45) off-plan: leftover spare ribs with KC Masterpiece, salad and steamed broccoli

And now for the ugly:  Barely into my afternoon I started getting a headache. I was reading a highly entertaining book (author Leslie Johnson, Facebook friend), but began to get drowsy so headed off to take a nap.  I succumbed to four buttermints on my bedside table. I may have slept at some point in the hour I was hybernated away in my arctic bedroom, but I kept thinking Chelsea would be home sometime soon and I didn’t want her to worry that I wasn’t somewhere in the rest of the house so I got up. I wanted to get back to my book, but not before I took a tour through Candyland, the “candy buffet” we have set up on a table in the craft/hospital supply room. Foolishly thinking a Ring Pop would be enough to satisfy my sweet tooth and maybe get rid of my headache, I started with that. I don’t know if it was loneliness from being home by myself or depression or boredom, but soon I was back in the candy room, getting me half a cup of Reese’s Pieces and M&Ms. That didn’t make me feel better. Of course. I’m going to have to find a way to get free from binge eating. Granted, it rarely happens these days, but, when it does, man. Crap.

So it’s part of the journey. Life isn’t always going to be roses and puppies. I have many, many truly great days (yesterday was one of them), but I should expect to have some bad ones thrown in, too. I just don’t want any more of them for a while.

“Oh, Ye of Little Faith”

To say I was skeptical at first is an understatement. When Haley, my nurse practitioner, told me that a friend of hers used Cookies Seasoning on her salads and it was002 so good that she didn’t even need dressing, my first thought was “Yeah, right.”  I told Chuck about this “wonder seasoning” sold at Hy-Vee, though, because Haley said it was excellent on steaks, and we were always on the lookout for ways to perfect our methods for preparing steak–so we picked some up that very day when we went to Kindred to visit Chelsea.

Haley was right: it is excellent on steaks. A word to the wise, though: there are two sizes of holes under the flip-top lid. Use the smaller holes to sprinkle because it packs quite a punch and this is definitely an example of how “less is more.” Remember, be conservative.  A little Cookies Seasoning goes a long way.

After my morning routine, I headed out to the junction today to Nature’s Cellar Antiquities to pick up some fresh homegrown tomatoes for sandwiches and salads and a couple of cucumbers, too.  While I was there the owner gave me an eggplant. The closest I had come to an eggplant, prior to this, was purchasing an eggplant cookie jar for my cookie-jar-collecting mom, author Ermagene Westfall, at a flea market in Chanute, Kansas once while visiting Chuck’s grandpa.

Cookie jar book 2 cookie jar book







I had no information at all about eggplants, either what they tasted like or even why they were called “eggplants,” so today I’m researching ways to fix this oddly named vegetable for dinner. After posting about it on the THM Beggplanteginners page, I’m leaning toward Eggplant Pizza. I was originally contemplating eggplant parmesan, but the recipes I’ve seen call for two eggplants and I only picked up one. [Post edit: Someone on the THM Beginners page gave me a little history lesson on eggplant.  It seems that “European explorers saw eggplant growing in India. They were the white variety and look at first like small eggs on the vine as they grew.”  So, now we know!]

Several excellent ideas are flooding in on my post, so I may change my mind, yet, again! Someone said the eggplant lasagna recipe in the Trim Healthy Mama book (page 349) is a family favorite.

Phyllis Stockwell, also has an interesting suggestion about cutting them up in chunks, putting them in a baking dish with diced tomatoes, covering with mozzarella cheese and seasoning of choice (hey, what about Cookies Seasoning!) and bake.

I had fully intended to try Hungry Girl’s “fork trick” with my salad at lunch today. The episode I watched yesterday while on the treadmill was all about salads: the “shiny” salads to avoid on the salad bar and salad recipes that she shared on the show. One of her tips was to have your salad dressing on the side and coat your fork in salad dressing before getting a bite of salad. That way you can get a taste of the dressing without drenching your salad with fat and calories.

I had tried dipping a couple of times while dining out. There is a difference between dipping and dunking. I decided if I dipped just the edge of my lettuce into the dressing I would be fine, whereas, if I dunked the whole bite in the dressing I may as well have poured it on top of the salad.

My husband noticed, and he was intrigued. “What are you doing? You’re not going to pour your dressing on your salad? You’re eating it without dressing?”

“No, but I’m trying not to eat as much dressing by dipping, rather than pouring.”  Neat trick. Now that I’m thinking about it, the “fork trick” would probably be even more effective.

As I was making my salad today I was wondering if I had any tiny containers in which to pour my dressing. That’s when that old thought that I had tucked away came back to surface. “Hey!  What if I try the Cookies Seasoning on my salad today instead of dressing?! I wonder if it would be good!”

“Oh, ye of little faith . . .” Let DSCF4229me just cut right to the chase. It was good. It was way beyond just “good.” It was fabulous!

I was careful to flip the correct side of the lid up to expose the smaller sprinkling holes. “Lightly, lightly,” I coaxed myself.  Then I sprinkled just a tiny bit more for good measure. I put the seasoning back into the cabinet and began massaging the seasoning throughout my salad with my hands.

Cameron had stopped over before going to work and he was seated in the living room.  I brought in my salad and sat in the adjacent recliner.

He looked at my bowl and said, “Aren’t you going to have dressing on that?”

“Nope,” I said. “I’m trying something new: Cookies Seasoning. My doctor said it was great on salads, so I’m giving it a shot.”

I think my eyes must have rolled back in my head as I took that first bite! I could not believe my taste buds!

“Oh, Cam!” I cried. “You have to taste this!  Oh, oh, oh, it is so good!”  

He made a face and said, “Nah, that’s a’ight.”

“I’m not kidding,” I insisted. “You would like this!” But I couldn’t change his mind.

As I sit here typing this, I still can’t believe how good it was!  Do you know what I just did?  I turned my S lunch into a FP! A delicious fuel-pull!

Another happy dance to my day:  The phone rang at 1:10 a.m. this morning. Chuck groggily answered the phone and then handed it to me. It was Chelsea. “I am so sorry to bother you,” she said sweetly, “but my wound vac is beeping.”

I hadn’t been asleep for very long and I wasn’t too disoriented or “stumbling-around” tired. The first thing I did was check the screen, hoping for an easy fix, like “low battery” or “full canister.” No such luck. It was a “leak alarm.” I got it patched up in ten or fifteen minutes. It was still making some noise, but once Chelsea got re-situated, the vac was immediately silent. I piled four folded towels and a big pillow on top of it, just in case it decided to get louder during the night. Chelsea had requested that I try to do something to lessen the noise of the wound vac because it was keeping her awake at night. The towels and pillow worked, and, not only did it help with noise reduction, she was still able to pick out the faint beeping sound under the pile of sound buffers.

The nurse is supposed to visit in the late afternoon. Chelsea decided to go in to work today and get her hair washed while she was there. She took out in her power chair, but wasn’t gone five minutes until she was back at the deck door.

“What’s the matter, are you beeping?” I asked.

“Yes,” she sighed.

“Oh, well,” I replied. “Maybe it’s just a full canister.  Let’s have a look.”

Sure enough, it was a full canister. I can’t even put into words what that meant to me. A full canister is a sign of victory and success. That means that we have been successful at keeping a good seal for two days since the nurse has been here. That means the wound vac has been doing its job, but, in order for that to happen, it means that I’ve been doing mine. Thank the good Lord above!

I remember a time when I figuratively threw my hands up in the air in despair, fully convinced that the wound vac was something I’d never be able to master. “Oh, ye of little faith.” See how good God is to me? What would I do without Him?

Stats for 7/29/15:
Weight: N/A
Exercise: 1.5 miles on the treadmill
Blood sugar:
Breakfast (8:00) E: Ezekiel toast and mocha cheesecake FSF
Lunch (12:30) FP:  salad with lettuce, grape tomatoes, deli turkey strips, onion, celery, cucumber and Cookie’s Seasoning
Afternoon snack (4:00) E: Gala apple and Blueberry Cheesecake Shake (be sure to check this one out: it is really good!  For an E, make sure you keep your Neufchatel cheese to just a tablespoon or so and your 1% cottage cheese to 1/4 cup)
Dinner (7:45) S: something with cheese and eggplant, probably pizza.  I made the pizza, and it was wonderful!  I’ll share the photo again tomorrow with more thoughts.DSCF4230




Be Gentle with Yourself

This whole weight-loss thing, actually, life itself, really is a learning curve, and I don’t think I’ll ever get to the point where I have “arrived”–either mentally or physically–whether battling food addiction or wrangling the “don’t-want-to” monster who makes it increasingly difficult to get off my behind (and Facebook or Word Press) and join the world of the living (and moving).

Again today I got my twenty minutes on the treadmill over with first thing in the morning, right after breakfast.  Because I thought to add a hill at the end of my routine and wanted to add more minutes for a “cool-down” period and because “Hungry Girl” was still sharing her last recipe of the week, I decided to go ahead and do an extra five minutes.

I had almost forgotten about that extra five minutes until I stepped onto the treadmill for the second time just a few minutes ago.  I was five minutes in when I remembered I had already walked a mile and a quarter today.  “Good!” I thought. “Even if I stop here I’ll still have a mile and a half in today.”  Five more minutes is nothing, though, so I kept going.

Maybe it was last night that I had this thought or, who knows, maybe yesterday, but it’s a good one. When I do my treadmill I usually get pretty militant about it and stay with it until I’ve done a mile. The trouble with that is, I’ve been rebelling. “I don’t want to do another mile,” I whine to myself. So I haven’t been. My revelation was just to do five minutes. I mean, I’ll do my initial twenty to start off my day, but then do just five more later on. If I happen to talk myself into another five or ten once I get on there, that’s all the better, but why be harsh and demanding with myself–especially when it isn’t working?  If I’ve learned anything about myself over the years it’s that I’m a rebel. I think that’s what gets most of us in trouble. I was fairly compliant as a child and teenager, unlike people like Cynthia Tobias, author and speaker, who once spoke on “Focus on the Family” about the strong-willed child.  She said if one of her parents had told her to do something or else. She would set her jaw defiantly and choose “‘else.’ Just ‘else.'”

Just because we’re “good” children (either that or we choose not to test the patience of our parents) doesn’t mean that rebellion won’t leak out somewhere else in our lives, either in our relationships with other people, with God or with ourselves.

The child me has lately been testing the adult me in the area of treadmill. “I don’t want to. What are you going to do about it?” The adult me has been doling out sympathy, admitting that it is indeed pretty hot, especially later in the day, and granting myself some grace. Just like “sorry don’t feed the bulldog” (one of my husband’s favorite sayings), letting myself make excuses doesn’t do much, either.

Two days in a row I did three miles. Then, on the day of my aunt’s funeral, I don’t think I did any treadmill at all. It was a hot day, and, after sitting in bumper-to-bumper traffic for an extra-long time on I-70 in Grain Valley, once I got home I wasn’t much in the mood to do anything.

So I’ve decided to do just five minutes a few times a day.  That all adds up and counts as exercise and calories burned. If I can push myself to do five more once I get started, great!  Ten more, even better!  Okay, hold on.  I feel myself getting militant, again, or is it obsessive-compulsive?

If you’re having trouble getting moving, just do a little.  Be happy with a little.  A little is better than nothing. The verse says “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me,” but being all “gung ho” and subsequently getting burned out will not get the job done.

For the next few weeks, especially during this hot spell, my new motto will be “five is fine.” I will not feel guilty about not doing two or three miles a day. I will do my first mile and then be gentle with myself regarding how much more I do.

Stats for 7/28/15:
Weight: 251.4 (yes, still stalling out and hanging out around 250)
Exercise: 2.25 miles on the treadmill
Blood sugar: 112 (6:29, an hour after dinner)
Breakfast (8:30) E: Ezekiel toast and mocha cheesecake FSF
Lunch (12:45) S: lettuce salad with turkey strips, grape tomatoes, cucumbers, celery and ranch.
Dinner (5:00) off-plan again because of the BBQ sauce: leftover spare ribs, big salad with Italian salad dressing, and steamed broccoli (no corn this time, though)
Evening snack (8:00) S: chocolate peanut butter shake

Healthy Funky Mama


My daughter keeps finding old pictures of me and saying, “Here, Mom, use this one for a ‘before’ photo.”  So, just for fun, here’s another one.  I have a lot of fun with picmonkey.com.  It’s great to see your photos side by side and chart your progress!

Feeling Skinny–Oh, What a Feeling!

I derailed a bit yesterday, not only with a few food stumbles, but also by nearly neglecting to do my mile.  It was after 8:00 p.m. last night when I finally couldn’t take my internal nagging anymore and stepped up on the treadmill.  It was hot, too, by that time of night. I was lethargic (probably due to lack of exercise) and lazy (also probably due to lack of exercise), and my feet were stiff and uncooperative (also probably due to lack of exercise). Am I beginning to see a pattern?

Today I got my treadmill out of the way early, before it got too hot, and had a 100% on-plan breakfast and lunch.  Immediately I felt skinnier. Healthful habits like eating right and exercising do wonders in jump-starting one’s metabolism.

Chuck and I stopped by Piggly Wiggly and got some spare ribs for the crock pot to have for dinner, and that’s where things went off-kilter.  I’m a drive-thru Sue through and through (or I used to be), and I’m also a grab-n-go Jo (I know, that one’s not in the book!  LOL)  I grabbed our old favorite BBQ sauce from the shelf, without checking out the nutritional info on the back, and was mortified as I read the label, after I had poured half a bottle full into our ribs.  Two tablespoons of Original KC Masterpiece is chockfull of carbs and sugar.  To be specific, there are fifteen grams of carbs and eleven or twelve grams of sugar in just two tablespoons of KC Masterpiece!   Had it not been for that, this meal would have been a crossover.  The ear of corn made it a crossover.  Corn, according to the book, is not allowed in an S setting.

Having said that, this was only my first or second ear of corn of the season. I honestly can’t remember if I had had one before tonight.  I do know that I have fixed corn on the cob numerous times. I buy them in packages of two or three.  If Chelsea has one, Chuck has two. If Chelsea is eating something else, I normally just buy a package of two.  Tonight Chuck is the one who picked up the corn, and there were three in the package.  Chelsea had us pick her up a taco salad from the Mexican restaurant, and that last ear of corn was just too tempting to resist.

To make this meal a healthful crossover, using an on-plan BBQ sauce, like this one from Mrs. Criddle’s Kitchen, is a necessity. To make this meal an S, use an on-plan BBQ sauce and nix the corn. If you want corn, have an E meal, but, remember: if you do have corn with an E meal you can’t (no way, no how) smother it with butter.

I will say one thing: Chuckers loved his dinner.  I heard him say, “Mm” three times. He’s no Ladd Drummond: you won’t hear him say, “This is really good, honey”–probably ever–but he does groan audibly and smack his lips appreciatively.  I guess that’s at least something. Chuck is convinced that all the hubbub the Drummonds make over Mom’s cooking is solely for the sake of television. I disagree, but it is what it is. We were just raised in different households.

I have a friend at work who always says I get excited about dirt. To prove the point, one Christmas she gave me a little plastic cup of dirt cake with gummy worms in it. She gave me two Home Interior Santa ornaments afterward, but, first, she wanted to show everyone that I got excited about “dirt.”

It is true that it doesn’t take much to get me excited. Today was one of those days. I was doing a happy dance almost when I got my Google Adsense PIN in the mail! That means I am on my way to making actual money from my blog (and not just from my Trim Healthy Mama affiliate link–which has been great, too, by the way! Thanks to those of you who have supported my blog by ordering your Trim Healthy Mama products through my link to the THM store!)

When people click on the ads on my blog I make a few cents per click. Awesome! I kept requesting another PIN because mine had never reached me. Every time I go to my Adsense account it tells me I need to verify my address by entering the PIN they sent me.  The problem with that was, I never received a PIN. The last time I requested a new PIN, I was notified that I was using my last request and another PIN would not be sent until I contacted them first. But today, today I got my PIN!

Stats for 7/27/15
Weight: N/A
Exercise: a mile on the treadmill
Blood sugar:  114 (7:37) two hours after dinner.  Chuck’s was 141, but he had two ears of corn and no broccoli (and not as much salad–and a different dressing on the salad).
Breakfast (9:15) E: Ezekiel toast and mocha cheesecake FSF
Lunch (1:00) E:  turkey sandwich with Ezekiel bread, Laughing Cow cheese, mustard, slivered onions, lettuce, and a slice of a Jerusalem homegrown tomato. I had four or five radishes and about a cup of Bing cherries.
Dinner (5:00) off-plan:  explanation above and picture below.
Evening snack (8:00): popcorn




Mojo, Mojo, Wherefore Art Thou, My Mojo?

I seem to have lost my gumption, happy thoughts, resolve, vision, acuity.  Before I get it back, first I have to know exactly what it is that I’ve lost, and I can’t even find a word for it.

I don’t know what time I fell asleep last night, but I am tired. If Chelsea hadn’t called me on the intercom with a beeping wound vac I would have stayed in bed longer. I had already awakened, but just couldn’t prompt myself to get out of bed. In the end, this is what summer vacation does to me. I am lazy, lazy, lazy. I don’t want to go anywhere, do anything or see anyone. If that isn’t a funk, I don’t know what is.

I knew that I should get up and fix breakfast and climb onto the treadmill, but I didn’t have the desire to do either.

Something new I’ve learned is that I should never set the grade incline above a 7% on my treadmill. The other night I did a 10% for a couple of minutes, but the The Sugar Solution says anything above a 7 is too much stress on the back, hips and ankles (page 198, The Sugar Solution). You don’t have to tell me twice. I didn’t seem to suffer any adverse affects from it, but it wasn’t fun.

Another thing I’ve learned from The Sugar Solution is that Dove dark chocolate is actually good for you. I read this part aloud to Chuck while we were on vacation (or on the way to the hospital with Chelsea; I don’t remember which).  “Just 1 ounce of one brand of chocolate has more than twice the heart-healthy antioxidant punch of red wine or other dark chocolate. Dove Dark, made by Mars, contains Cocoapro cocoa, a proprietary, specially processed cocoa that contains super-high levels of antioxidant flavonoids called flavanols–so high that Dove Dark is used in medical research. Studies have shown that people with high blood levels of flavonoids have lower risk of type 2 diabetes and heart disease.” When tested, Cocoapro showed to reduce blood clotting and that it may also “stabilize arterial plaque, making it less likely to travel and cause a stroke or heart attack.”  You don’t need to tell Chuck twice.  That gives him more of a reason to indulge. I think the book had an ounce or so in mind, though, and not half a bag.

The book says that the chocolates with the highest cocoa content also have the highest flavanol content.  Two chocolates with superior flavanol levels are:
*El Rey Gran Saman Dark Chocolate, 1.4 ounces, 70 percent cocoa, 190 calories, 15 grams fat.
*Scharffen Berger Bittersweet, 1-ounce bar, 70 percent cocoa, 170 calories, 11 grams of fat. (The Sugar Solution, page 137)

CamMe and Cam before Corder Paradeeron was asked to drive his convertible in the Corder Parade today. He’ll have a couple of little queen pageant girls in it. It will give him a chance to show off his new car and possibly get his picture in the paper (or at least his car’s picture!).

Yesterday was Aunt Wanda’s funeral. I got to see both my brothers and sister, some cousins and a couple of aunts. My mom only has one sister living now, and only one brother. It seems foreign to hear the words in the obituary “proceeded in death is one sister, Ermagene Westfall.” It has been fourteen years, but I still don’t like the sound of those words.

My mom and my aunt loved to play Yahtzee. There have been casual comments about reuniting in heaven for a Yahtzee game, just as there have been comments made about fishing and card games in heaven. Something feels off about thoughts like that. Those are worldly trivial pursuits. I don’t think anything will trump or even accompany the glory of God in heaven. I don’t look for there to be fishing. Or Yahtzee. Or card games. I think being in the very presence of God would strip away any artificial joy or fulfillment in those pastimes that stole away our time while on earth. I don’t look for there to be laptops in heaven, either. No Candy Crush. No Facebook. No Word Press. No big screen TVs. No Royals games. No Family Feud. No Waltons. No fill-in-the-blank. All, all, all are junk in the light of God’s glory. Because we live in the flesh and have piddly earthly passions: swimming, crocheting, basketball, reading, whatever it may be, we can’t even fathom what heaven will be like, so we try to ascribe to heaven those worthless and useless “happy” things that make up our lives on earth. They won’t be needed in heaven. Jesus will be enough.

Several years ago I heard Richard Swenson on “Focus on the Family” and wanted to buy his book Margin. I never got around to it. Today I think I’ll call the library and see if they can track me down a copy.

Even with yesterday’s funeral I was able to stay on track with Trim Healthy Mama. My cousin hosted a lunch in her beautiful home and had trays full of meat, cheese, fruit and veggies, along with bread and chips. When I first caught glimpse of the trays my mind automatically kicked in to Trim Healthy Mama mode, and I immediately thought, “Do I want meat and cheese for an S or do I want meat and fruit for an E?” I chose the meat and fruit. No bread, no chips. I had one slice of lean turkey, one slice of lean deli ham and one slice of lean deli roast beef. To that I added two slices of cucumbers (should have had more), a couple of chunks of cantaloupe, a chunk of watermelon (and a couple more later on) and a chunk of pineapple (and a couple more later on). What I should have done was add some grape tomatoes on my plate, too, and maybe a celery stick or two.

It was my first watermelon of the season, and it was delicious. I look at it every time I go into Piggly Wiggly, but I can get by without it. Since I can’t eat watermelon the way I used to eat watermelon (by the plateful), I think it would spoil before I got the whole thing eaten, and, since I’m almost the only one in the house who eats it, that’s a waste of money.

Stats for 7/25/15:
Weight: N/A (but Chelsea’s home health nurse mentioned that it looks like I’m still losing)
Treadmill: a mile on the treadmillDSCF4138
Blood sugar:
Breakfast (8:15) S: chocolate peanut butter cheesecake shake and coconut crack bar
Lunch (12:00) E:  deli turkey on Ezekiel with lettuce, onions, tomatoes, Laughing Cow cheese and mustard, cucumbers, radishes and more tomatoes!
Afternoon snack (4:00) S: chocolate peanut butter cheesecake shake and two coconut crack bars.
Dinner (7:30) S: Sirloin burger with sautéed mushrooms and onions, Swiss cheese, on a bed of lettuce with a big slice of a homegrown Jerusalem tomato, and steamed broccoli.

I took more parade pics, but it was a small parade and the pictures were taking too long to load.







When Push Comes to Shove

Chelsea had her follow-up appointment with Dr. James today. He said the wound is looking a little better.  Good!  I would hate to think the past week of the wound vac’s being on and secure 24/7 was all for naught.

While she was at her appointment she asked Dr. James if he could give her something for anxiety. He said, “Sure, I can.  What do you want?  I can give you some Ativan.”

I asked her on the way home if it was the lift on the wheelchair van that was making her nervous. I mean, I know it is, but I wondered if that’s why she asked for the pills.

She hesitated, as if she almost hadn’t thought of that, and then she said, “Well . . . yeah, but also Cameron! I couldn’t sleep last night after he called!”

Pfff.  Seriously. Her and her dad, I’m not kidding . .  . They lose way too much sleep over things over which they have absolutely no control.

Rarely do I lie awake worrying about my son. He’s twenty-seven years old. We tried to raise him right. He doesn’t drink, doesn’t do drugs or even smoke. I don’t know about all the things he does do, and probably I’m better off not knowing everything that goes on in his life.  (This parenthetical is a rabbit trail that has nothing to do with my story:  There’s only so many times during a single day that I can tell him to leave his phone alone while he’s driving.  Five times may be excessive, but I don’t care. Every time I can squeeze “don’t text and drive” into a kiss and hug goodbye I’m going to do it and I’ll even squeeze it into the three or four minutes leading up to the kiss and hug. I tell you the truth: if anyone ever sees my son texting and driving I hope they turn him in to the police. They’re not doing me [or my son] any favors if they don’t.)

Back to my story. Eventually a person just has to let go and trust God. For every single circumstance in life, trust God. I’m not saying it’s always easy, but, if we want to keep our sanity and keep from aging before our time, it’s necessary.

The Bible says, “Which of you by taking thought can add one cubit unto his stature?” (Matthew 6:27) That was a rhetorical question.  No one can. And no one can add a single hour to his life, either.

Psalm 37:1  Fret not thyself because of evildoers, neither be thou envious against the workers of iniquity. For they shall soon be cut down like the grass, and wither as the green herb. Trust in the Lord, and do good; so shalt thou dwell in the land, and verily thou shalt be fed.

Cameron called last night and said he “got into it” with someone at work. We didn’t get the whole story, though, as is common with Cameron, and it turned out that it wasn’t what happened at all. Good thing I didn’t stay awake worrying about it–since that’s not actually what happened. (What actually transpired is that he told a third person he couldn’t “stand that guy,” and to my disappointment as a Christian and a mother there was an expletive used, too. That’s not how we talk in this family. I don’t talk like that, and his dad doesn’t talk like that.)

Chuck and Chelsea, on the other hand, were worried that Cameron had flown off the handle and, who knows, maybe used that expletive to the guy’s face and maybe could be in danger of losing his job (wouldn’t that be wonderful . . . after he had just bought his new car?). Cameron had posted something on Facebook about his not getting mad very often, but “when someone keeps talking down to you, you finally just have had enough.”

Anyone with a clear head knows that the work place typically has a zero tolerance for violence, fighting, profanity, fill-in-the-blank. It doesn’t matter how “jerky” a person is to you, retaliation is not a wise choice, and the Bible does not advocate such a response.

Romans 12:19:  Dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves, but rather give place unto wrath: for it is written, Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord.

Jesus Himself did not return evil for evil.  “Turn the other cheek” does not mean “retaliate” or “stand up for yourself.”

Romans 12:21 Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good.

Isaiah 53:7  He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth: he is brought as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so he openeth not his mouth.

In this life, people are not going to like us. They don’t even need a reason not to like us. They may not like the way we dress, the sound of our voice, the way we fix our hair, the things we do or even the things we don’t do.

Even if we could go through our whole life completely sin-free (which we can’t and don’t), people are going to talk about us behind our backs and they may even get as many people as they can to turn against us. Even if you haven’t done anything wrong and try to live morally, people may still call you “goody two-shoes.” If you’re a Christian, they may call you “Jesus freak.” The Bible says it will happen.  The Bible says they will speak “all manner of evil against you,” but the Bible never, ever says to blast them back.

Because of our flesh and because we are sinners, sometimes we do, anyway. Sometimes we send a zinger or an unkind word back in their direction. Maybe we’re tired or have a headache or had a bad commute to work or fill-in-the-blank. Sometimes–Lord help us and forgive us–we do respond in a negative way.

What that does is taint our character. If we get caught up in a back-and-forth, someone who walks into the room in the middle of it may have trouble discerning who is the “good guy” and who is the “bad guy.” When two people are operating in the flesh and on the same level, they’re both “bad guys” and not Christ-like at all.

Getting caught up in a war of words or pushes or shoves is a way for things to escalate in a big hurry.  I like how Chuck’s best friend in high school used to put it. He didn’t want any part of fighting because “someone could get hupeacemakersrt . . . and it might be me!”

God’s children are called to be peacemakers, not brawlers.

The wise person fills his heart with the peace of God and his mind and spirit with the Word of God. We will not always respond the right way when people treat us harshly, but the more time we spend in the Word the better our chances are that we will.

Party Hair

Stats for 7/23/15:
Weight: N/A
Exercise: haven’t done my mile, yet, but I did walk around the block when we got home (oh, and around Sam’s Club, too). Finally got my mile on the treadmill in!
Blood sugar: I’m not checking it as often because strips are expensive.
Breakfast (8:00) E: Ezekiel toast and mocha cheesecake FSF
Lunch (11:00) S: Chic Fil-A Cobb salad with grilled chicken instead of crispy (I have to say that I love those charred tomato crispy red bell peppers to sprinkle on the top; I hope they’re on plan!)
Afternoon snack (3:30) E: Gala apple and Triple Zero Greek yogurt
Dinner (7:30) S: pork ribs, leftover Dreamfields alfredo, and steamed broccoli


(Yesterday’s Entry) Back on Track!

Today has been totally Trim Healthy Mama. At last, at last, back on track!

What’s more, I went down to Fairground Park before I went to the store and walked a mile on the walking track!  That’s two miles for today so far, and, not only that, I’m about to walk uptown with Chelsea. That will be three miles today.  ‘Bet I’m thirsty when I get back!

(Later:I was thirsty!  I drank two Good Girl Moonshines when I arrived home.)

There was something special about being out with Chelsea at twilight, walking along the sidewalk on 19th Street and listening to the sounds of the cricket-filled woods on a summer evening.  It took me immediately back to my childhood when my grandpa and grandma were alive, reminding me of summers at their farmhouse out in the middle of nowhere in a small town with a population of under five hundred where everyone knew everyone else, and all the wonder of the sounds of God’s creation that came from that special and specific time and place in the universe: bullfrogs, croaking their nightly greetings from the pond; of course, the rhythmic, mournful crickets; and the June bugs that swarmed the light pole in the backyard and fell on their backs on the porch, clawing the air with their scratchy legs, trying to get turned back over. Lightning bugs dotted the front yard with millions of flickering glimmers of light, and I felt like I would be young forever.

Life doesn’t feel like that too much, anymore, with its closed-in houses, central air and big screen televisions. People don’t sit out in their backyards in fold-out lawn chairs, gazing up at the stars and pointing out the Big Dipper to their kids.  Well, not generally. Chelsea and I spent a night doing exactly that a couple of weeks ago when I decided to take advantage of Chuck’s new hammock that he got for Father’s Day. Chels has a nifty APP on her phone that shows where all the planets and constellations are, even the ones on the other side of the earth. You just point the phone at the sky (or the ground, as the case may be) and it tells you exactly what you’re looking at!

My afternoon jaunt around the walking track was not nearly as difficult as I remembered it from twelve or thirteen years ago. I didn’t have to try too hard to talk myself into a second lap. I tell you what, though, if you do it right, walking that track on a humid day will make you breathe hard!  Having said that, I wasn’t holding my side, I didn’t break into a sweat, and I didn’t feel like I was going to die.  Truth be told, I probably could have and should have done three or four laps, and I would have been none the worse for wear.

Mentally I’m feeling better than I did yesterday. I think it’s because I got my resolve back. I don’t know what else it could be.

Stats for 7/21/15:
Weight: N/ADSCF4127
Exercise:  three miles (at least, one on treadmill, one at walking track, and one uptown)
Blood sugar: 105 (an hour after dinner)
Breakfast (8:30) E: Ezekiel toast and mocha cheesecake FSF
Lunch (12:30) E: Turkey on Ezekiel bread with Blueberry Fizz
Afternoon snack (4:00) E: Gala apple with Blueberry Fizz
Dinner (7:45) S: omelet with Swiss cheese, ham, sautéed mushrooms, onions, green, red and yellow peppers.



Chelsea’s Party

DSCF4136Chelsea’s Totally 80s 30th Birthday Bash was a success, I’d say.  We expected more people, but we had enough to fill up all four of the tables we had allotted for the event and even had to pull out a fifth one.

Chelsea and I were a little concerned when it was nearly two o’clock and the first people to arrive were her friend from Oklahoma and his parents. What made it even more uncomfortable or embarrassing and a little unnerving was when her friend’s dad looked around the huge, vacant, decorated fellowship hall and then glanced down at his watch.

Honestly, I had hoped for more of our church family to attend, and three of them had planned to attend, but one of them was visiting her daughter in the hospital and helping her to get moved into a nursing home, one of them was sick, and one of them’s daughter was rushed by ambulance for an emergency appendectomy.

People started shuffling in at 2:00, though, and I had everyone grab a cup of Kool-Aid or water and have a seat.  The pastor still hadn’t arrived and he was supposed to kick us off with a devotion and a prayer.  (Saturday happened to be our pastor’s wife’s birthday.)

We had reserved one table for the snacks and barely had enough room.  At Chelsea’s request, I brought meatballs, and my sister brought Oreo balls and her famous (to Cameron and, no doubt, many others) nacho dip.  There were many other great snacks there, including my sister-in-law’s pumpernickel bread with the center hollowed out and ranch dip placed there for dipping.

We had no idea how many to expect, and Chelsea over-planned with the cake and cupcake situation.  She ordered a big double cake, half-white and half-chocolate, and fifty cupcakes.  After she insisted that some of the party guests take some home with them, we still had a couple of dozen to leave for Sunday school the next day.

We had a bunch of cake left, too, and it has taken up residence on our dining room table.  Needless to say we have all eaten too much cake since Saturday.  My resolve has dissolved.  Yes, someone left my resolve out in the rain.  I don’t think that I can take it ’cause it took so long to wake it, and I’ll never have that recipe again.  What am I talking about?  Of course I’ll have that recipe again.  It’s called three hours later and getting back on track and dragging my book out again if I must. All pity parties stop here. I have to be stronger than the cake.

After I did my mile on the treadmill last night, I was certain I would be able to wake up and start fresh with my normal Ezekiel toast and fat-stripping frappa. Only, when I woke up, I walked past Chelsea’s room and asked her if she wanted me to bring her a piece of cake.   “Sure!” she called out.  Sigh.  I couldn’t do it.  I couldn’t pass up a getting a piece for myself, too.

I told her today that the sooner it is gone, the better.  No one makes icing like Barbara Wilson, our church cake lady. I could eat it by the vat-full.  Remember me, the sugar addict?  (We have lots of candy left over from the candy bar, but I’m not even tempted. I can do without M&Ms and Reese’s Pieces and Skittles. Every once in a while I will have a Ring Pop.  Those are off-plan, I know, but Hungry Girl said once that suckers are good to take to the movies because they are low in calories and take a long time to eat. Do you know how many handfuls of M&Ms and Reese’s Pieces you can go through in amazingly little time? Mindless, mindless eating, especially when you’re engrossed in a movie and are hardly aware of what you’re doing.)

The games had been fun to put together, but I wonder if all of them may have been a little too hard.  The 80s Trivia game may have been the easiest, and it’s the one that I had just gotten off the Internet.  The 1985 game I put together myself–from information I had gotten off the Internet.  All the candy and decorations–even my earrings–were also gotten off the Internet.  Even her friend, Brian, from Oklahoma, she had met on the Internet–or through a friend she had met on the Internet, which may be about the same thing.  I guess you could say that Chelsea’s party was courtesy of the Internet.

I was sad that one of Chelsea’s nurse friends couldn’t make it and a couple of other friends had things come up and couldn’t make it, either, but, as I said, all our tables were full, so it was a nice gathering.

I didn’t get my treadmill in that day, but I came home pooped just the same.  My back and feet hurt from being on my feet all day and carrying box after box after box out to the car and van afterward.  I don’t even know how long it would have taken me or how I would have survived had a few friends not stayed to help take decorations down, wipe down tables, wash dishes, etc.

I had only taken a very small sampling of food on my snack plate at the party. I made sure to get one of my sister’s Oreo balls and a tablespoon of her nacho dip with about three tortilla chips. An older couple from our church brought in some interesting wafer cookies that looked just like waffle cones, so I got one of those, too.  I tried one or two of my meatballs and got a small slice of Gouda cheese.  I’m not sure I’d ever had it before.  It was good-uh.  See what I did there?

My sweet hubby worked hard afterward, too, sweeping and mopping the kitchen and fellowship hall.

I hate to say it, but I was dreading the party. I knew it would be fun, but I was nervous about it, too, hoping it would all fall in place and knowing how much work would be involved getting the fellowship hall back into shape when it was over and everything carried back to the car. Thankfully I’m in the best shape of my life, and it was not as physically demanding as it would have been at any other time of my life.

As happens sometimes after a holiday or at least during the summer (for me) kind of a mild depression has settled in. I felt it yesterday, not wanting to get on my treadmill, eating too much cake, etc., but more acutely today with Chuck at work.

I did do my treadmill before taking an afternoon nap, but I haven’t wanted to do anything else, other than a load of dishes, and eat more cake–which is part of my depression, I just know it!  I want to get back to my “normal” THM way of eating. I didn’t work this hard to be where I am to be derailed by cake. I can either continue to be disappointed in myself and depressed or I can do something about it.

Even though I blew my breakfast and my afternoon snack, I did have my usual healthful salad for lunch.  Tonight will be a heavy S meal with chicken alfredo and steamed broccoli. At this point, I can’t even think about tomorrow. Hopefully, Cameron will come back by a couple more times for cake, and, of course, Chuck and Chelsea will eat more.  Cake, be gone!

Another part of my depression is probably just the summertime blues. I get them every year. As summer school comes to a close, or, really, even in May, I start getting excited about school’s being out and being able to sleep in every day if I want. Then when the opportunity gets here, it’s “Blah, another day of sleeping in, not getting dressed until two, nowhere to go, no one to see, nothing to do.”

Unfortunately Chuck has to work again tomorrow, but he’ll be home on Wednesday and Thursday and I’ll probably feel better then. Maybe we can even go somewhere. Oh, that’s right, I almost forgot: Chelsea has a followup with Dr. James on Thursday, so I guess Thursday is our day to shop if we want to at Costco or Sam’s Club or wherever.  Basically it will be a day to get out of the house and spend in the bustling city.

Chelsea didn’t wear her wound vac to her party.  The nurse was coming the next day, and the vac wouldn’t have stayed anyway.  For the better part of two whole days not an ounce of urine was caught in her Foley bag. That meant she was sitting in constant wetness. We went through bedding like crazy. There is positively no way the wound vac will withstand such an environment. The nurse had said there was nothing she could do about it.  Chelsea wasn’t due for a bag change for another couple of weeks, and Medicaid doesn’t like to pay for procedures or services in between their scheduled times.

When Susan arrived early Sunday morning, Chelsea greeted her at the door with, “We have decided we are not going to have the wound vac put back on until I get a new catheter because it is pointless.”

Susan responded, “Well, I brought a new kit with me.”  Yay, great news!

Since the nurse had brought a new catheter, Chelsea had planned to go to church yesterday, but, after she got out of bed and into her chair, the wound vac started rumbling more than usual.  She thought that would be an embarrassing distraction in church and was having second thoughts. Then a solitary beep sounded. I hadn’t heard it because I was in the bathroom, applying my lip liner. Chelsea came into the hallway and said, “I don’t know what that was all about, but I just heard a single beep.”

I lifted the velcro flap of the wound vac pouch and looked at the screen.  “Low pressure” it said.  The reading was at zero, and it was supposed to be at 150.

Back to Chelsea’s bedroom we went. She got back in bed and rolled to her side. For the life of me, I couldn’t find a leak anywhere. Over at the edge of the draping, it had rolled up a little, but, as far as I could tell, certainly not enough to create a leak. For the most part, everything was completely flush and secure.

We didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t go to church with the vac not working, but the nurse had just been there an hour and a half ago!  I didn’t want to unpack the wound and take the vac off so soon!  And what in the world did “low pressure” mean? We had gotten many alerts: “low battery,” “canister full,” “leak alarm,” but “low pressure”?  How does one get low pressure without a leak?

We had no other recall than to call Susan. Susan started asking her to check this and that and then said, “Well, you know what?  I’m only ten minutes away. I’ll be right there.” After checking the wound, as I had done, and not being able to find a leak anywhere, she took the wound vac out of the bag and discovered that the canister was almost full.  Okay, then why didn’t it say “canister full”? Next time we’ll know what “low pressure” means. Susan snapped on a new canister and instantly we were back up to 150.  Chelsea had already transferred a couple of times, though, and didn’t want to scoot on her dressing again and risk its coming undone. Plus, by then, we had no time to spare: it was time for Chuck and I to leave for church, so she stayed in bed all day yesterday and didn’t venture out to church.

Today has been a repeat of yesterday.  Her bedding has stayed dry all through yesterday, last night and today–hallelujah–and the wound vac is still chugging away, nice and strong, but she has not chanced getting out of bed. Tomorrow a different wound nurse will be here, and then on Thursday she has her wound clinic appointment.  Staying in bed gets old fast, I know.  I can’t even imagine it.

I know I prDSCF4100omised you party pictures, but I was so busy at the party that the only pictures I even thought to take were in the salon before and the cake and cupcakes and candy bar before the party.  I didn’t even think to start the Rubik cube challenge or randomly select judges for the best costume (because no one was showing up on time), so this is all I got.  Chelsea did get some with her camera phone, but some were blurry.  This first one is of Chelsea at her desk at the salon where she answers the phone and keeps the appointment book (and apparently pre-pays her mom’s hair appointment!  I started to get out my checkbook and April said, “It has already been paid.”  What a sweet daughter I have!).

For whatever reason, God sent us exactly the people we were supposed to have for our party. I was happy Chelsea’s friend from Oklahoma was able to drive all that way to be with her, and I was happy to see one of my brothers, my sister-in-law, my sister, her kids and her boyfriend, one of Chuck’s sisters, and our niece (and neighbor and Chelsea’s favorite cousin) from across the street.

I’m sorry to have fallen down on blog updates, but, as always, I appreciate your support–and every single note you leave!  No stats to report today.  Just surviving and existing, hoping to jump back on plan soon.  Take care, my friends!

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Our party hair!  Chelsea had the Big Hair of the 80s, and I had the pop rock hair, spiky on top with some temporary pink and blue highlights.


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Notice the bowl full of slap bracelets! Those were big in the 80s, too! We put them there so everyone could go pick one out to match their outfits.

Chelsea snapped a photo of me in the church kitchen, preparing for the party. I will post some of the pictures she took with her phone following this one.




Chelsea's party 1 Chelsea's party 2 Chelsea's party 3 Chelsea's party 4 Chelsea's party 5 Chelsea's party 6 Chelsea's party 7 Chelsea's party 8 Chelsea's party 9 Chelsea's party 10 Chelsea's party 11 Chelsea's party


Conquering the W̶o̶r̶l̶d̶ Wound Vac

Last night, as I was helping Chelsea get ready for bed, I noticed the seal had pulled away from her wound and would need to be redone.

The alarm was not sounding and the screen still read “150 continuous,” but obviously something was not right.  The end of the foam bridge was gunked up with Duo Derm and sticky adhesive, and I think that is why the vac didn’t detect a leak.  The bridge was sealed up tight with gummy substance and was no longer sucking the wound material.

I have to say that I had more fun last night patching that wound vac than I’ve had to date.  It’s a challenge now, not a daunting task.  (Of course, I may feel a little differently at three a.m., but that’s another set of circumstances.)

One of the greatest feelings in the world is when I turn the wound vac back on and see the draping immediately collapse down against the skin and sponge and hear nothing.  Silence truly is golden when it comes to the wound vac.  No slight rumbling or gurgling or whatever noise that is that it makes.  In my mind’s eye, I could see myself standing on top of the globe with my arms raised up in the air!  I am a victor!

I am thankful to the Lord for bringing me to this point.  He has brought me from feeling powerless and overwhelmed to confident and competent.   Thankful, too, am I for the sweet prayers of His saints.  Oh, you guys.  I can’t tell you how much I appreciate all your kind prayers!  Chelsea and I both appreciate it!

I’m starting the day on track with my usual breakfast, and then at noon I’ll be in the dentist’s office.  My lunch will be just a tad late, but the fat-stripping frappa fills me up so much I won’t mind.  (Note to self:  order more Piping Rock today!  I’ll order five to get free shipping.  I don’t even know if I could do Trim Healthy Mama without my whey protein isolate.  Shakes, smoothies, sodas, Orange Juliuses, mocha cheesecake frappas, etc. are my favorite things in the world almost, and I would feel deprived if I couldn’t have my “ice cream” treats!)

I’m looking forward to this afternoon.  I’m meeting with the “party committee” at the church to organize for Chelsea’s 30th birthday party!  I can’t wait!  I have to remember to bring my camera!

I took my camera and almost forgot to take pictures.  Everything was already done by then!  Tomorrow is the big day!  I’ll have Chelsea take some more tomorrow!

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Weight:  N/A (I’ll not make that mistake again for a while!)
Blood sugar:
Breakfast (8:30) E:  two slices of Ezekiel toast and a mocha cheesecake FSF
Lunch (1:00?) S: salad
Afternoon snack (4:00) E: Gala apple and Triple Zero Greek yogurt
Dinner (7:45) S: Sirloin burger with lettuce, tomatoes, sautéed mushrooms and onions and steamed broccoli and Blueberry Fizz

Talk about a typo!  That’s cutting myself some slack.  It was either a typo or really, really horrible math!  Chuck and I celebrated our anniversary yesterday, but it wasn’t our thirty-seventh!  We got married in 1983, so yesterday would have been thirty-two years since our wedding day, not thirty-seven years.


Blueberry Fizz!

“Summertime, summertime, sum, sum, summertime!”

The days are sweltering, the nights are steamy, but I have found a way to beat the summertime heat, baby!  A few days ago I introduced Choco Pop.  Then came my Strawberry Soda.

Now it’s time to welcome the new kid on the block: Blueberry Fizz!   Just like the previous two drinks, this treat is a whiz to make, and it is cold, zippy and refreshing! Keep your club soda in the fridge to make it extra cold!

Keep your blueberries to under half a cup and you may have this in any setting: S, E, or FP.  Don’t forget to top it with a dollop of fat-free Redi Whip and a decorative frozen blueberry or two!


If you don’t have Pinterest, here’s the recipe for the Nutribullet 32-ounce cup (yep, it’s a biggie!):
*1/4 cup unsweetened vanilla almond milk
*3/4 cup cold club soda
*a scant 1/2 cup of frozen blueberries
*4 TBL of your favorite unsweetened or vanilla whey protein isolate (I use Piping Rock because it’s cheap and delicious; I buy five at a time for free shipping–because I love my smoothies!)
*10 packets of Truvia (or to your taste; I like it sweet)
*a good squirt of vanilla extract
*three or four grinds of salt
*Fill the rest of your cup with crushed ice from your fridge dispenser and give it a whir!

I don’t think I need to mention that blueberries are a superfood, do I?  Drink up!

If THM is your whey protein of choice, I would appreciate your considering buying through my Trim Healthy Mama affiliate link.  Thank you for supporting my blog!