Cooking Light

There was a point in time that I had just ten more pounds to lose to get to my pre-second-baby weight.  That point in time lasted about six months and then all of the sudden it became fifteen.  I won't go into all of my why me? I try so hard whining before drowning my sorrows in a box of Oreos. 

I seems I have been waiting to think about dinner until Tony gets home and start expecting him shortly after 4, but haven't seen him before 5:30 in weeks. Mid week I run out of dinner ideas and before we know it we are hungry enough to give into fast food runs.

I decided this week would be different.  I went to the grocery store on one of my many health food kicks, but this time with meals planned out, mostly straight from my new Cooking Light subscription.  I thought this Toasted Chickpea and Apricot Salad looked pretty and was excited about the impressive nutrition stats of chickpeas.

I was very proud of my pretty salad and the chickpeas that I bought and cooked myself, versus the canned ones...until we dug in.  Hmm.  Not so great.  Tony was convinced the chickpeas were supposed to be softer while I thought they should have been crunchier.  My no-fruit-in-my-salads rule was reinforced after this.  Fruit with salt/pepper on it = still gross.

That was Monday.  Last night, I tried a second attempt with this Shaved Summer Squash Salad with Prosciutto Crisps.  Because I forgot to pick up prosciutto (and we happen to have an abundance of pre-cooked Black Label on hand) I substituted crispy bacon.  I am a little embarrassed to admit Tony and I decided the mint and lemon flavors distracted from our favorite parts...the cheese and the bacon. 

Tonight we are having chicken fajitas.  No surprises there.  Then I will have to go on a three mile run.

Clara is on her third day in a row of feeling sick and today we took her into the doctor.  The doctor commented on mine and Lucy's matching hair cuts and nail polish color...as if that's weird?  (Kidding, I know it's weird)  Naturally, we had to take a little shopping trip.  The girl at BabyGap knows all three of us by name, and I used to think it was cute. 

I would write more, but I have to go watch the Oprah Finale and cry by myself