Lay Off, I'm Starving!

I am no Victoria Secret model, but if you were to look at me, I don't think your first thought would be, "That chick likes her food." However, if you were to say that, you would be right. I have always been a big fan of eating. I've never really been a picky eater (though I do have some texture issues - that's for another blog.) My mom tells me that when my sister and I were younger, if we were misbehaving, all she would have to do was threaten to send us to bed without any dinner. We (and by that I mean, mostly me) would dramatically beg for her to reconsider! Go to bed without dinner?! How cruel!! She never did do that, probably because her trick worked and we straighten up our act. 

As I have gotten older and more aware of what I consume, I am conscience of my eating habits. And since having Zachary I have had a few realizations on these eating habits, and friends, they are not pretty.

1. Drop the fry and nobody gets hurt. I like to share. In my mind, if you share then you really get twice the fun. I liked sharing my toys when I was a kid because then my sister Laura and I had twice the playthings. I like sharing meals with Troy because then we get twice as many foods to taste. I liked sharing clothes with roommates because my wardrobe was twice as big. There is one thing I have a really hard time sharing....french fries. French fries are one of my favorite foods. I know they are terrible for you, but I don't care. I love them. The worst is when you go out to eat with someone and you sit down and look at your glorious spread of golden fried potatoes and your meal-mate says, "I didn't order any fries because I thought I could have some of yours." In my head, I hear the buzzer from a basketball game and think about how I can politely tell that person to get his/her grubby hands away from my pile of fried goodness. I usually can't think of a good way to say it, so I turn into a prison inmate, hunched over my meal, consuming the best part (the fries) first. I'm not proud of this, but it's true. Look, if you want to preserve the meal and our relationship, order your own fries.

2. Get it while it's hot! I used to eat like a lady. I would cut my food in small bits, using the right utensils and sitting up straight. My main focus of meal time was to be graceful and enjoy the food. Now my main focus is getting something in my belly. Eating hot meals, while being the mama of a baby don't happen often. I am convinced that babies know when you are comfortable, hungry or have to go to the bathroom and that is the time they pitch a fit. So, when I can squeeze these things in, I do so and I do it in a hurry. I realized after having Zachary, I scarf down food like I am in a zombie apocalypse. We hosted Troy's family for Thanksgiving and we went out to dinner the Friday after. Zachary was doing great - until the food came. Troy's sister, Tricia snuggled with him so I could eat, but he was still crabby. I tried to eat quickly so that I could take him. I didn't notice how fast I was eating until I made eye contact with my mother-in-law who looked at me with big eyes and told me to slow down. I think she had started prepping herself to perform the Heimlich Maneuver on me. I realized I must look like I was challenging myself to a game of Chubby Bunny. (For those of you who don't know the game Chubby Bunny, you have to keep putting large marshmallows in your mouth and still be able to say the words "chubby bunny." If any marshmallows come out, you can't say the phrase, or you puke, you lose. Sweet game, huh?) Even when I am not with Zachary, and I am eating, I realize I eat like I am in a hot dog competition. I have to remind myself to slow down. So, if we go out to eat, I am truly sorry that you have to watch me. I am hoping that some day, graceful Pam comes back. Until then, I should probably not go out in public.

3. Vacancies Available. During the last few months of my pregnancy, I was hungry all the time because I could only eat small meals. My stomach was all squished thanks to Baby Carlson so not much could fit in there at once. Since Zachary's birth, because I am nursing, I am hungry 24/7 and normal sized meals feel like a snack. I think since he was born (on May 30), I have only felt full maybe three or four times. I feel like Mrs. Pac Man, but there are never enough dots to eat. What's a girl gotta do to get a bunch of bananas whilst running from the colored ghosts?! I have been drinking a lot of water and chewing a lot of gum to fool my stomach, but I don't think it's working. You know what would work? A large fry. Mmmm fries.

I could write another clever paragraph to wrap things up but I think this video would be the best closure for this post. I really don't need to write another word.

The Minnesota State Fair

It's the time of year again. When folks from all over the state, flock to our capital city and gorge themselves on all things that are deep fried and served on a stick. It is known as the Great Minnesota Get Together. About 1.7 million people attend each season. It is . . . The Minnesota State Fair. You can ask almost any Minnesotan what their plans are from late August until Labor Day and they will undoubtedly tell you when they are going to the fair. It is a part of our culture. Personally, I love the fair and all the weird quirkiness that goes with it.

The food is obviously a huge draw. Our general plan of attack is to share everything so that we can eat more junk. This year we had cheese curds, a papa Pronto Pup, an ear of corn, fried Snickers bar on a stick (my personal favorite), fried apple pie, 2 lemonades, a few of Sweet Martha's cookies - and then we decided to get something we never had before - hot dish on a stick. Being from the Chicago-land area, I did not grow up eating "hotdish" and had never had it before. I thought since we were at the Great Minnesota Get Together, getting it fried and on a stick would be appropriate. I was wrong. It was gross. Maybe it is an acquired taste. Regardless, I will not be making Tater Tot Hotdish for my family nor will I eat it again.

After the selection of food, people watching is one of my favorite activities. Where else can you see such a diverse group of people? Troy and I are big fans of people watching. It is a great activity while you are resting your feet and nursing an overpriced glass of lemonade. I have found that a majority of the people at the fair can classified into one of the following categories:

1. Farm Folks. These are the kids who are involved in 4H and have driven miles from the outskirts of the Metro. They walk around in their Wranglers and dirty boots, awed by the amount of people and the fact that they finally get to come to "the city." (I am sure you can pick up on the fact that I ooze city slicker from my pours.) They sit in their camping chairs next to their sows, goats, and cows and look at us city folks like we are fools for not knowing how to truly live off the land like Daniel Boone . . . and they would be right, but I also don't need to pick hay out of my hair at night.

2. White Trash. This is a given. Any event that boasts food that will clog your arteries - on a stick - will for sure bring a surplus of these folks. They walk around in dirty flip flops or slippers (yes, I saw slippers as outdoor foot wear) with their overweight, loud children in tow, talking with their mouth full of fried food. Toothless, husbands lighting up a cigarette and blowing in the faces of everyone around them. I saw two women who apparently forgot to put their shirts on in the morning . . . that or a bobcat attacked their tops on the way to the fair. One of the two.

3. Pure Minnesotans. This is a category I have recently made up. This group contains people who love the outdoors and dress as such. They are the ones wearing Tevas or Chacos (some with socks . . .don't even get me started), cargo shorts and polo t-shirts. They may or may not have a sweatshirt tied around their waist or shoulders. They are pushing Bob strollers (these are made for runners) and eating the healthiest (I use this term loosely) options the Fair has to offer or munching on apple slices that they brought with them. Many of the people in this group are also donning fanny packs . . . which I cannot even talk about here, and should be the topic for another blog.

4. Prom Queens. I don't know why there is a large group of people in this category, but every time we go to the Fair, I see women who apparently thought they were going clubbing instead of coming to the Fair. They are wearing high heels, skinny jeans and enough make up to cover the entire cast of Gossip Girls. Often these women are holding a plastic cup of beer. Very classy. I have no idea how they teeter all over the fair grounds dressed like that. They must have corns the size of volleyballs.

If you could not identify yourself in one of these groups, congratulations! You're normal. If you did classify yourself in one of these groups, own it. While you may be a strange sub culture, everyone is accepted at the Fair. So, that is it. With tomorrow being Labor Day, it is also the last day of the fair. We will have to wait a whole year before we can see the butter sculptures, get free St. Thomas bags from the education building, and visit Minnesota's Largest Boar. That's okay though, it will take me that long to burn the calories I consumed in our visit.

Summer Foods Haiku

You know what's awesome about summer? The food. Yeah, that's right . . . the food. I know that summer contains a plethora of fantabulous things, but the food (fruits and veggies to be specific) is really spectacular.

I realized this while I was cutting up some delicious watermelon for dinner one night. The color of the fruit was so beautiful, I had to take a picture of it. As I was cutting it, I looked over and thought to myself, "Pam, that looks like summer, " hence, the subsequent photo opportunity.

I never get tired of the corn on the cob, berries and melon. Last week, I inhaled a bag of cherries almost all by myself. Troy was able to sneak a few without having any limbs severed . . . but just barely. We had pancakes this week with fresh blueberries. I can't be sure, but I may have chewed with my eyes closed to savor every bite. This morning, I had cantelope that melted in my mouth. I think I am having a relationship with produce.

Therefore, in honor of the delicious treats the good Lord gives us during the summer months, I have written a haiku.

(Ahem)

Cherries, Blueberries,
Melon, Tomatoes, or Corn,
Just can't get Enough

Super Bowl Sunday

Here we are. This is the day I have looked forward to ever since preseason began. Today is the last day of football - until the beginning of September. Today is the day that the heavens open up and the angels sing a chorus of hallelujahs because this is the last Sunday that will revolve around football for many months. This is the day that football relinquishes its firm grip on my husband and our friends and lets wives enjoy Sundays with their spouses again. Today is Super Bowl Sunday.

I actually like Super Bowl Sunday for the reasons mentioned above and because it is a day that usually involves friends and food. I love both of these things. The guys generally are more concerned about the game and the food, but us ladies like to get together to gossip and talk about the commercials, cute new shoes, and probably tampons or some other female issue will make an appearance in the conversation. I also love how our dinner is basically composed of appetizers. I love appetizer dinners. It feels so wrong, and yet so right.

This year I have surprised myself and actually want a specific team to win. I usually don't care and chose the team that has the nicest team colors/mascot or the cutest quarterback, but this year is different. This year the Packers are playing. I am not a hard core Bears fan, but I am a big enough Bears fan to want the Packers to go back to Green Bay with their tail between their legs and so I am jumping on the Steelers' bandwagon, wallowing in the fact that if Jay Cutler wasn't such a Nancy, the Bears could be playing today . . . but that is another blog.

The Super Bowl really is an American institution. My parents even watch it and they hate football. There is something congruent about the Super Bowl and togetherness. It's nice to know that most Americans will be tuning into tonight's game. My friends in California and Massachusetts will probably be watching. My cousins in Colorado will tune in. My parents and in-laws will be cheering. It's nice to know that even though we all live far away from each other, today we will be united . . . over a bunch of guys humping a pig skin.

If that isn't American, I don't know what is.