May 17, 2008

Why Sure, I’ll Embarrass Me for a Wii

I’ve been coveting a Nintendo Wii for months. Many long months. Playing my outdated PS1 is like driving an old jalopy. When I read that City Mama is giving away a Wii & Wii Fit, I began to jump around my living room. And then I quickly stopped jumping when it sunk in that I’d have to reveal my most embarrassing moment at the gym.

I’ve never blogged about this moment because it’s far too mortifying. The things we do in the name of a free Wii!

Two years ago in January, I decided to join a new women-only gym called Fit Zone. I was excited about working out every day, using the combination of weight circuit and exercise machines, and an added bonus was that men were not allowed to be members and gawk at all the ladies trying to get their MILF on. It was a perfect set-up. I could sweat like a pig in the company of women like me, and never worry about being self-conscious about it.

I worked out religiously 6 days a week for three months. I had bought new sneakers, a new workout top, but I was insistent on wearing my favorite, worn-in yoga pants. I called them my Magic Pants because regardless of how much I weighed, these pants fit me perfectly, and flattered my lower half in ways I never imagined. When I wore those pants my butt looked firm and my thighs looked slim. What more could a gal ask for?

One fabulous day in April, I donned my favorite workout gear and headed to the gym. That was also the day that I forgot to throw my “normal” undies in the dryer after washing them, so I had to wear my back up polka dot granny panties. I was going to the gym, right? No one would see them, so what did it matter?

I started the weight circuit first. The Fit Zone had a series of weight machines that worked core areas like arms, thighs, abs, and buttocks and I had worked my way up to doing three sets of ten reps. The last machine on the circuit was the leg press and it was my favorite. It looks like this:

To use the leg press, one must sit on it, legs spread eagle in the birthing position, and push 180 pounds of weight away from the body. It looks something like this:

Never mind the stick model. She’s having a bad hair day.

So I sit down on the seat of the leg press, set the weight to 160 pounds (because I’m a wimp) and spread my legs as shown in the illustration above. Then I proceeded to complete my first set. As I’m huffing, puffing and pushing (also similar to childbirth), I notice the gym owner, Gary, the only male allowed on the premises, staring at me with a strange look on his face. Since I’m in the middle of shedding pounds from my ass and thighs, I try to ignore the funny look.

Suddenly one of the female trainers, Michelle, walks over to me and whispers, “Hey, Dana…how are you….Ummm….so don’t freak out…but you may want to stop using this machine….because, Umm…..you sort of have a hole in the crotch of your pants….”

I could feel my face turning 27 shades of red. The embarrassment could have killed me right there.

“Oh. My. God. And…he saw….everyone saw….Gary…he saw….my granny panties? My favorite pants! They have a hole in them!” I didn’t know which was worse, wearing embarrassing underpants or discovering my Magic Pants were torn.

“Yeah….everyone in the gym can see the polka dot underwear, girl.” I could tell she felt awful as she was fighting back the laughter.

“Yeah….it’s laundry day,” I started. “At least these are clean!”

Now, because I had known Gary and Michelle for several months and had become great friends with both of them, it truly wasn’t as big of a deal as I thought it was. But when I walked past Gary on my way to the locker room and heard him sing, “She wore a pair of pink and purple polka dot granny panties…” to the tune of Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny Yellow Polka Dot Bikini, I became flushed all over again.

I ran into the changing room and noticed the hole in the crotch the size of a golf ball. I was mortified. I couldn’t bring myself to go back to the gym. It was June before I got up the courage to step foot into the place. Thankfully, no one ever mentioned the incident again, but I’m sure they’ve never forgotten.

You Say Tomato, I Say Fresh & Simple

At la casa dei Dana Files, pasta is served quite often. It’s quick and easy to make, tastes molto delizioso, and it’s something that The Pickiest Eater Ever, aka Dawson, will eat without complaint. In fact, we’ve boiled so many noodles, and tried nearly every pasta sauce ever made, that one could call us Pasta Connoisseurs.

As much as we love penne and tomato sauce, it can be difficult to get a delicious dinner on the table, especially when our lives are constantly busy and chaotic. Not only that, I hate doing more dishes than I have to, so when the folks at Ragu sent samples of their new Fresh & Simple Pouches I was more than excited.

I know it sounds crazy to be giddy about pasta sauce pouches, but you have to understand my reasoning. In the summer we grow tons of tomatoes. To make sure that nothing goes to waste, my husband boils the many leftover tomatoes into puree and then freezes them in quart containers and heavy duty Ziploc bags. These frozen ‘maters are excellent for making homemade pasta sauce, but I can’t exactly microwave the plastic baggies without creating a gigantic mess.

I’m not saying I don’t love homemade sauce, but sometimes the time it takes to thaw, heat, add garlic and herbs and simmer, is a pain in the rear. Not to mention the extra kitchen utensils, knives, cutting board and saucepan I need to use and wash later.

The Ragu Fresh & Simple Pouch is great for those busy days. I just clip the pouch open, pop it in the microwave for 90 seconds and pour right over my pasta. The only thing I had to worry about was boiling noodles and that takes 10 minutes (we love al dente).

The sauces come in three flavors: Garden Vegetable (Dawson’s favorite.), Traditional Tomato Basil (Doug’s favorite) and Tomato, Onion & Garlic (my favorite). An added bonus is that Ragu sauces are all natural which means no additives or preservatives, and every 1/2 cup of sauce has a full serving of vegetables.

Even I can’t sneak the veggies in my homemade sauce without Dawson turning up his nose. With the Garden Vegetable sauce my picky eater didn’t have a clue that he was eating something good for him.

For more info on Ragu and their All Natural sauces, click here. You can also discover some fabulous recipe ideas, like Shrimp in Red Pepper Alfredo Sauce. Yummo!

May 16, 2008

Take Me Out to the Ball Game, Then Take Me Out to the Zoo!

Our mini-vacation to Milwaukee went surprisingly well. For a few days before we departed, I worried that anything and everything that could possibly go wrong, would. It didn’t and I’m eternally grateful to the forces that be for ensuring that Dawson and I had a great time in Beer Town.

We left our humble abode at 10 a.m. and made it to Milwaukee proper by 1:15, and I only made two pit stops. We veered off the beaten path at a cute little town called Lomira (where there were nearly 50 Vestas whirling in the vicinity), which is just south of Fond du Lac.

Then an hour later we stopped at a park in Wauwatosa so that I could stretch my legs and Dawson could burn off some pent up energy. Two and a half hours in a car could drive anyone crazy.

I expected horrendous traffic once I got near West Allis, but I realized it was a weekday, and the lunch hour rush was only beginning so we made it just in time. I’m positive traffic was worse downtown.

We finally went to our hotel in West Milwaukee, after 45 minutes of enjoying the beautiful day. We stayed at the Best Western Woods View, the same hotel we chose last year for our Mother’s Day getaway. I love it because the hotel is walking distance from Miller Park (and we had Brewers tickets for that night), and it’s only a 15-minute drive to the Milwaukee County Zoo.

After check-in we changed into our swimming gear and went downstairs to the pool. The Doodlebug only asked me 25 times if we could go swimming so to shut him up I agreed. We swam until I turned into a California Raisin, and then I had to drag Dawson back to the room so we could rinse off the chlorine and get ready for the game. I realized once we were back in the room that I didn’t bring the camera to the pool. No big deal. If you’ve seen one hotel pool picture, you’ve seen them all.

The Brewer game was to start at 7:05 p.m. and because we were going to walk to the stadium we left at 5:30. I figured Dawson’s little legs wouldn’t be able to walk very fast. I was right. He dawdled and whined that he couldn’t walk anymore so I carried him and my gigantic purse/camera bag the rest of the way. That in itself was a cardio workout.

We got inside the stadium and I decided we needed Brewers t-shirts. The one I owned was from high school and much too small, and I wanted to commemorate Dawson’s first Brewer game. The souvenir sales person convinced me to get Dawson a t-shirt with a player name on the back and she asked, “Which one do you want? Braun, Hardy or Fielder?”

I thought to myself, Where are the Yount and Molitor shirts?

It was at that moment that I realized the last Brewers game I had been to was in 1988 in old County Stadium (and before that I had only been to one other Brewers game, in 1985, when I was six years old). Vivid memories of Rollie Fingers and his handlebar mustache came flooding back, as well as the blind spots that made watching the game difficult because of the columns and support beams that were often in the way.

Had it really been 20 years since my last baseball game? I had to think hard about that. Then I remembered that after Dawson was born I sort of lost interest in baseball.

“I think we’ll take the J.J. Hardy shirt because his is the only name I recognize.” I said to the clerk.

She laughed and said, “First Brewers game?”

“It’s my son’s first Brewers game. My first visit to Miller Park. And to think I used to know the players by heart so many years ago. I know every Green Bay Packer, but sometime after giving birth I lost my baseball brain.” I chuckled.

“Now’s the time to get back into it.” she replied.

Fifty-seven dollars in souvenirs later, we found our seats, ordered two hot dogs, cotton candy, a super rope and a large soda, and watched the Brewers win 5-3 against the Dodgers.

Dawson was mesmerized by the lights, noise and Bernie Brewer, and he loved the Klements Races. He didn’t have one temper tantrum. I was truly in awe of how well behaved he was. Here are some of my favorite photos from the game:

Eating his first ballpark hot dog.

The Klements Races.

J.J. Hardy, short stop.

In his new t-shirt, watching a foul ball fly into the stands.

We stayed for all nine innings because my son was having such a great time. When the Brewers scored a run, the crowd went wild, fireworks went off and Bernie Brewer went down his slide. Dawson and I exchanged hi-fives, and I watched happily as my little buddy became a baseball fan. It was such a wonderful experience and I’m so happy that I could share it with him. (For those who are wondering, I won tickets to the game from a local radio station and Doug couldn’t get off work to go. Thus, Dawson and I had a “Mom & Son” date.)

The walk back to the hotel after the game was tough for the little guy, and once we got to our room, he fell asleep instantly.

The next day we slept until 9 a.m. (this is late for us), had the continental breakfast, and after checking out of the hotel, drove to the zoo. This time we tried to see all the things we didn’t see last year. Such as:

In the Jungle, the Mighty Jungle, the Lion doesn’t sleep tonight.

Not a def Leopard.

White, and black, Stripes.

No clever, musical title for this photo, I just like giraffes.

“People all over the world
Join in
Jump on the zoo train, zoo train.”

More Milwaukee Photos here.

May 15, 2008

Bits and Pieces of Randomness

I’m at the Imperfect Parent today, in which I discuss breaking up with a bad job. My friend is stuck in a stressful job situation. Or is she addicted? Got any advice to share? Send it over!

A Milwaukee Trip recap is forthcoming, as soon as Flickr decides not to be stupid.

I’m very excited because two new books I ordered have arrived from Amazon.com. Now. Who’s gonna take Dawson to the park for nine hours so I can read them both in one day?