Adventures in Cooking - Brunch edition

We love to cook. We are not quite foodies...we just like to cook and eat. Cooking is part of our adventures...we like to try new recipes, old favorites, and ethnic dishes. My absolute favorite meal usually is a breakfast brunch. On long weekends, I love to "sleep-in" [which is usually like 6:30am instead of 5:30am] and make a nice, hearty meal.

I thought I would share our Labor Day weekend brunch because it was so delicious, easy to make, and quasi-healthy. With the easy prep of a puffed pancake and a frittata, you can get it all in the oven to cook, clean up your mess, and have time to enjoy a cup of a coffee and read the paper (yeah, right... more like watch another run of Toy Story 1 or 2) while it all bakes.

I like to get the frittata started first, because it takes longer. Once you get it in the oven, start the puffed pancake and it will all be done around the same time.




Blue cheese Walnut frittata 


Who doesn't love eggs? I came across this recipe while awake before the early birds, trying to surprise them with a yummy breakfast. I had a strange assortment of ingredients and was googling away trying to find some inspiration. This really hit the spot. Of course this recipe appears in its altered format - feel free to check out the original (link is included at the bottom). I reduced the amount of cheese, added bacon and took out spinach. This is a great recipe for those of you with low-carb preferences.

1/2 cup chopped onion
4 garlic cloves, minced
a healthy dose of real bacon bits (2-3 tablespoons or more if you like bacon)
2 cups egg substitute
1 cup shredded part-skim mozzarella cheese
1/2 cup crumbled blue cheese
2 plum or roma tomatoes, diced (you could use sun dried tomatoes instead for a different flavor)
1/4 cup chopped walnuts

In a large ovenproof skillet (10 or 12 inch) coated with cooking spray, cook onion and garlic over medium heat for 3 minutes or until tender. Remove from heat. 



In a large bowl, beat the egg substitute until frothy. Stir in the onion mixture, bacon, mozzarella, blue cheese, tomatoes, and nuts. Pour back in ovenproof skillet re-coated with cooking spray. Bake, uncovered, at 425° for 30 minutes or until a knife inserted near the center comes out clean. Serves 4-6.


P.S. Here is the original recipe courtesy of Taste of Home

Puffed Pancake 
I had the idea to make this after we stayed at a B&B that served something similar. We declare this one is better and undoubtedly healthier as we substituted real butter with Smart balance (not the spread, but the one good for cooking) as well as egg substitute instead of whole eggs (makes it lighter on the fat and cholesterol=heart healthy). Sprinkle with a bit of powdered sugar and syrup if you like. With the the rise of a souffle and the texture/flavor of a Cuban flan, it is certain to be a hit (and disappear quickly). You can use apples, pears (our favorite) or whatever fruit you would like, to add a new flavor.

1 cup of fat free milk
1 cup egg substitute (equivalent of 4 large eggs)
3 tablespoons sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
2/3 cup all purpose flour (I like to use Gold Medal - higher protein makes for better baking)
4 tablespoons (or 1/2 stick) "healthy" butter option (i..e, Smart Balance, etc.)
1-2 pears or apples or peaches or whatever (go crazy) - peel (ugh), core, and thinly slice
1-2 tablespoons brown sugar
powdered sugar for sprinkling
syrup (tastes great without it)

Preheat oven to 425 degrees. Whisk milk, eggs, sugar, vanilla, salt, and cinnamon in large bowl until well blended. Add flour and whisk until batter is smooth. Place butter in round glass pie pan (9 inch) or 13x9 glass baking dish (I prefer the round...prettier...because we all known our men and sons LOVE prettier breakfast). Place dish in the oven until the butter melts (about 5 minutes). Remove dish from the oven and place fruit slices in overlapping rows atop melted butter. Return to the oven and bake until fruit begins to soften slightly and butter is bubbling and beginning to brown around the edges of dish (10 minutes). Remove dish and pour batter over fruit and sprinkle with the brown sugar. Bake pancake until puffed and brown (about 20 minutes). Sprinkle with powdered sugar, if you like. Serve warm. Serves 4-6.

P.S. I hijacked this recipe from Bon Appetit, September 2002 and made it my own. Now its your turn.

Overall, it makes a great brunch and satisfies all breakfast taste buds (a bit of savory and sweet). Pairs well with a fresh glass of orange juice (or mimosa...and if you lack a bottle of champagne, a drop of white wine works just as well), hot brewed coffee, and a side of fresh fruit (blackberries, raspberries or whatever you like).

The leftovers...the best part is reheating it the next morning!

Cheers!

Anna Marie

Stop talking and start spinning...

I teach spin. The indoor cycling type of spin (not how to add an angle to something). I love teaching it. It is officially my most reliable form of employment to date. Go ahead and laugh. But I get paid to exercise...and yell at others to do it to...others who actually take their own precious time to come to my class. All joking aside, I love it. I love to teach it. It is a stress relief for me and I enjoy the camaraderie of exercising with others.

And then there is Lisa.* Lisa loves to exercise. She spends countless hours in the gym. Literally. She is there in the morning when my husband goes (5am) and still there when I go (8am). She is miserable. I am not sure why. At least it keeps her in shape. Lisa likes to tell me how to do my job and give me feedback. While I am doing it.

Example 1: In the midst of a segment of class, she loudly proclaims that the music is too slow. "There are not enough beats per minute for what we are doing right now."

Example 2: "This song is awful. We hate it. Please turn it off already. Please. Respect your elders." [Not kidding. She was serious.]

Example 3: "Why don't you do a 27. Oh, you don't know what that is? Heehee."

Example 4: "If I were teaching, I would use this song."

Example 5: "Now that was actually a good class." [read: all the others suck].

Example 6: "Is that all? Oh I prefer the hour long class. I feel like I just got going." [after 45 minute class during which you found time to catch up socially with the person next to you].

I find it annoying. I also think it is funny. I don't take it personally, but still find the need to talk about this person. Get a life. Or perhaps, go get a certification if you think you can do it better. Or maybe you don't have the cojones to get up in front of a room full of people who don't know you, don't care, and are waiting to jump on your every mistake [actually this is just you], every week, as you carefully put together a class with music that you hope will give people a great workout.

Otherwise, shut up and spin.

Yours truly,

Anna

P.S. Another thing....saying "by talking during class I am just working harder" is not good enough. Again, shut it and spin. Working your mouth is not working your body.

*The name in this post has been changed for obvious reasons.

No Boot Straps

I was listening to NPR the other week and heard someone say, "How can you tell people to pull themselves up by their bootstraps, when there are no bootstraps right now?"

I have no boot straps. I've got plenty of boots - I love wearing boots. But we're talking the proverbial bootstraps here. I've been searching for them for over a year now. I have been on unemployment (and now off). I have submitted dozens of CVs and cover letters. I have been subjected to over a dozen interviews. And even more rejection emails, sometimes letters, or simply nothing at all. Still no bootstraps.

My younger sister Sarah was here visiting with my nephews a few weeks ago. She has no bootstraps either. Well, she kind of has bootstraps. The sort of in between type. You know...not really a "career" job,  but it least it puts gas in her tank. She has been looking for her bootstraps for a shorter time than I have - maybe 4 months. She is a recent graduate of undergraduate studies. I am a not so recent graduate of graduate studies. Neither one of us can seem to find these damn, illustrious boot straps.



Since I have no boot straps, I have been doing a lot of thinking lately. Where can I find them? Will I recognize mine when I see them? Maybe I should just make my own? Why can't I find boot straps?? And what about those that I have found, that I thought could be mine? I didn't even get the chance to try them on and never found out why they wouldn't fit.

I am not an economist nor would I even claim to understand the intricacies of our economy. Or its failure. [Multiple arm loans, people living outside of their means, shady mortgage brokers, shady Wall Street players, greedy high-ranking employees (ahem, CEOs, COOs, over-paid government employees that need to retire (thus freeing up some boot straps), and an assortment of others).]

I am, however, a researcher. I like to study things. Observe them. Learn from them in an effort to make meaningful changes. Yes, my area of research is within public health. However, the means of obtaining data, the methodology, is universal. I even like to play a game when I meet random people...how much data can I collect from a casual conversation with someone by saying as little as possible? It helps keep my interviewing skills honed. I just practiced in the cafeteria of the Smithsonian's Natural History Museum (much to the dismay of my sister and two nephews - see the look on their faces).

We had to share a table with a woman who was eating lunch. I learned a lot about her. How she met her husband, where she grew up, how she came to work for the State Department, that she moves every two years, and never wanted to have children, likes sitting with strangers, and also, believes in destiny. I elicited this information by giving a little of my own, smiling, leaning forward, and furrowing my brow [See photo on the left. Yes, Sarah photo-documented my "interview" if you will...as a means to pass the time during which she and my nephews were bored out of their gourds. On a side note, this random stranger thought perhaps I hadn't found my bootstraps yet because the ones I had been looking at were not my destiny...merely practice to help me find the real bootstraps].

My point in all of this...perhaps my bootstraps are just this. To be an interviewer you ask? To be an interrogator? Perhaps a spy? No, silly. To document what all of us [us implying "us" jobless folks that would like a job] are experiencing. To see what is different about being unemployed [and seeking employment] in today's society. My gut tells me it is very different than in previous decades. Not to diminish the experiences of people in years past. It was most certainly a difficult time. But let's add in the Internet, email, completely web-based processes, social media, social networking, and on and on an on.

I must acknowledge that I am lucky to have it relatively easy...I know that. My quest for work is out of my desire to do something positive in the world. Not because my family is hungry. I hope I am not making light of this for people who are desperately seeking work.

So with that said.... Anyone unemployed? Want to talk? Be interviewed about your experiences? Tell me your story. I'm all ears....can't promise this will help you find your bootstraps (or mine for that matter) but perhaps it will help us reflect, learn, or at the very least, vent.

Anna Marie

Things We No Longer Miss in Norfolk

Seriously, I was thinking I might squirt some tears departing from Norfolk. I did a little, over leaving my new friends at the Y (we already miss Michelle, Cassandra, Carol, Ashley, Ms. Barbara, and on and on). However, there are many things that I will. not. miss. (shout out to the ladies from Rants from Mommyland for making the use of the period so meaningful).

1. Not having a dishwasher. Not much else I can say about that. Wait a second....Nope. I got nothing.

2. Not having really sharp knives. We are a cooking family. If you like to cook you know the importance of really sharp knives.

3. The housekeeping staff. Most people think, "wow, you had housekeeping for ten weeks? Nice!" No. The first day the crazy retired harbor chick made it clear she was nuts. I think she said this to me, "We're here to take care of the men." I don't know about you, but this made her sound like a prostitute. Take care of the men? Baaahawhawha. She also told me that they "might" remember to take out the trash. Not from our house...but the ginormous can outside of our house about twenty feet to the road. Lastly, she said if we backed up the plumbing, we would be out on the street. Right. We filed a complaint and never saw her or her gray skunk stripe again. (she looked like Stripe from the Gremlins in human form). And yes, they sometimes remembered to take out our trash. It was really hard to remember, given that they took our neighbor's bin out every week, without fail. (Our trash cans are 2 feet away from each other).

4. I will not miss getting hit on by men who are old enough to be my father on the 4th floor of the Y. Yes, I am working out as hard as you. My presence, the fact that I was friendly, and one of the few females who entered that floor does not give you the right/privilege to hit on me. And yes, I told my husband.

5. Getting stuck in underwater tunnel traffic. I'm not sure how many tunnels there are, but I swear they are everywhere. And they always involve traffic.

6. Hearing the trumpet, National Anthem, Taps, etc. at daybreak and sunset. I am patriotic. Just not every single day. And night.

7. The weird, awkward moment upon entering base when the "guy" or "gurl" (Jack's description) salutes (Jack calls it "sa-uut") us. Yes, salute my husband. He's the military officer. Not me. And why me? Is it because I married him? Is it the sticker on the car? It makes me feel funny and I am still not sure what to do back. Do I smile? Wave? Salute? Say thank-you? Jack thinks it's great. Brad said it is a "Navy thing" so no more saluting at good 'ol Fort Belvoir. Whew!

I guess these are all minor irritations - so one last hoorah for Norfolk, our new home away from home!

Anna Marie

Life. Celebrated Daily.

In our few days left, I have started to think about the last ten weeks. What will I miss? How have our lives changed because of these ten weeks? How will things change when we go back home to Springfield? Being in this crazy life, just when something starts to feel like home, you are pretty much guaranteed a change. Love it or hate it, it is our reality. It stinks when two things happen: 1) you move somewhere you hate (ahem...Montgomery) or 2) you go somewhere for a short time and fall in love with it. Tough, because we love the DC Metro area, but I have to admit, good 'ol Norfolk has grown on me.

What we will miss:
1. Blocker Norfolk YMCA. The lovely ladies of the front desk who let us in the back, joke around with Jack, and are just simply nice people. All the really cool ladies in ChildWatch, who became our friends. And the people who work out really hard on the 4th floor.
2. Weekly festivals. Norfolk's saying/motto is "Life Celebrated. Daily." They embrace this with every type of festival possible. Like I said before, we dig the festival thing. They are the cure for the common cause of boredom.
3. Walking out our front door and not having to go down (or worse, up) two flights of stairs. Yes, we are living in a two-story house. Our home is NoVA is stacked...stairs up to the front door, stairs up to the main floor, stairs to the bedrooms, more stairs to the basement. Stairs, stairs, stairs. Maybe this is why I have put on a few pounds here.
4. Being able to walk less than five minutes in any direction from our front door only to find a very cool playground.
5. Being able to drive 30 minutes (or less) to Dam Neck beach. The military super secret beach. Not really. But it is pure awesomeness. A beach that you can only access with a military I.D. Nice. An stretch of the Atlantic coastline that is oddly quiet, absent of seagulls and the sand has minimal sharp shells. Almost as nice as Fort DeSoto.
6. Going for a run in downtown Norfolk with mermaid statues, huge schooners, ships, and the historic USS Wisconsin as my scenery along the Elizabeth river.
7. It doesn't take 40 minutes to get anywhere (unlike in DC, where you plan your life around traffic patterns).
8. It makes me think of home (as in Tampa home). There is a river, a bay and an ocean (close enough to the Gulf minus the tar balls). Sorry. It's still to soon isn't it. Damn BP. Damn you.
9. We have had a crazy amount of time together as a family. It's priceless. We know this and tried to make the most of it. We are very lucky.
10. Missing that we have an almost normal routine...we actually get up, eat breakfast together, hang out a bit, drop Papa off at school, sometimes have lunch together. I am already missing this, because I know back in DC things are going to go back to a more rushed pace. Brad is sad he will go back to having about 4 hours of Jack time and about 1 hour of Anna time. Back to the real world.

We can honestly say we lived life here. And celebrated it. Daily.

Cheers Norfolk!

Anna Marie, Bradley & Jack

Super-sounds of Norfolk

Lately I have been noticing the sounds of Norfolk. It has been a bit irritating. Where we live in Northern Virginia offers a cacophony of metros, trains, freights, and traffic, so I am surprised that sound is even an issue. Daily we hear the drone of planes, the clop-clop helicopters, the air horns of Navy and commercial ships, the slow chug-chug of freight trains and on occasion the deafening roar of jets flying in formation.

One Saturday after first moving on base, we heard a loud screech followed by the crunch of metal. Of course, I ran outside with Jack on my hip (I did have shoes on) to see the cause. Our house is located right next to the gate to the outside world. Outside of this gate is a good sized ditch and a very large, busy road (Terminal Blvd). The cause of the noise...a small SUV that careened into the ditch nose first. Everyone was okay and cell phones were out and being dialed.

Being right next to Terminal Blvd., which leads directly into the Norfolk International Port, means lots of big semi-tractor trailers and trains. Just the other day, we were sitting on the front stoop doing sidewalk chalk, when I heard a noise so loud and explosive I threw myself on top of Jack. Turns out it was a semi blowing a tire (we saw said semi several seconds later, tire shredded and flapping). However, this was close to what I imagine a small bomb would sound like.

All this talk of sounds, noises, and what not led me to wonder, "Why the heck am I so sensitive to sound lately? Perhaps I do have some super-powers after all (I think I mentioned this in a previous post). Well, low and behold, Bradley has figured it out.

Let's go back a few days....let's say Monday of last week. Jack and I were sitting outside playing and I felt what I thought was a mosquito bite. I ignored it. The next day, what looked to be an innocent mosquito bite turned into a very large welt, with surrounding rings of red. It's a spider bite that kept getting bigger and uglier.

A day later, while describing to Bradley how sounds were driving me crazy lately and how I planned to blog about it, he asked me to walk over to the wall. Looking at him with what he refers to as the "skeptical Anna" face, I went to the wall. He then asked me to put a hand on the wall. I complied. He then asked me to put my other hand on the wall. I started laughing and said, "Are you checking out my butt?" He said, "No. Just keep moving your hands, kind of like you are climbing the wall."

Brad then starts singing, "Spider-pumpkin*, spider-pumpkin, does whatever a spider-pumpkin can."

I kid you not. I respond, "You're a big dork" and swat at him with my superhero hand. So much for checking out my butt. Brad has effectively explained my sensitivity to sounds as a result of my newfound superhero spidey powers. My spider bite (now ten days out) is finally starting to go away.

Shhwip ~ (this is me flinging my web to sign off).

Spider-pumpkin



*If you didn't know, Brad calls me Pumpkin more than Anna. It's a big, ongoing joke. Everyone thinks its hilarious. In retaliation, I call him Squash. Go ahead, call him Squash too.

Public Health Alert: French Fries are Addictive

Jack and I now have a standing date for the MacArthur Center Kids Play Area. Once a week, after our time at the Y, we head over to the mall. Jack narrates on the drive over. Mall. Keedz. Areeah. Uh-huh. He follows this up with arms crossed sign and a emphatic "hummmph" (which means he loves it).

We had our usual fun in the kids area. It was a little irritating as there was two older boys, definitely over 42 inches, who planted their bottoms in the big pretend truck with a steering while. Jack stood there patiently, waiting for them to move. The one boy looks at me and says, "You're in our way. You need to move. I'm going to run you over." I just glared at him, trying to see if I really do have super powers. Nope. Nothing happened. We finally gave up and played on the tugboat instead.

After awhile, Jack tells me he is hungry by giving me the sign (he taps his mouth). I confirm by asking him and I get the usual, "Uh-huh." We head first for a diaper change and potty attempt. In the midst of changing Jack's diapers,  Jack utters, "fresh fras." I look at him confused, "What are you trying to say?" Jack says, this time with more emphasis, "Fresh Fras." I think about it. Oh-no. French fries. The last time we came here, we ended with a snack of french fries. I have created a monster. I repeat it back in question form for confirmation, "french fries?"

Jack says: UUUhh-huhhhh...(arms cross, squeeze, requisite hmmmmmph), num num num (what Jack says when something is REALLY good).

From the mouth of the babe....french fries are good...num num num.

From the mouth of the mama....french fries are addictive. At least we held him off until now.



Anna Marie & Jack

Row, row, row your boat...

Today was a great day. Perfect start to any regular Tuesday morning. We started with kisses and hugs from a very handsome small Jack bear, who then was gracious enough to share his oatmeal with me, while we discussed the cinematic qualities of Elmo in Grouchland. We always do this, back and forth. I like the good guy, Elmo, while Jack feels empathy for the bad guy, Huxley. He's not so bad, Mama. He's just misunderstood (although it sounds more like this).

Anna: I like Elmo.
Jack: Go-guy. Hmmmmph (said while crossing his arms in an x over his heart...the sign for love).
Anna: You mean the bad guy Huxley?
Jack: No, go-guy (good guy). Cop-cop (translation = helicopter).
Anna: But he's mean. And he took Elmo's blanket.
Jack: Go-guy, cop-cop. Ya-ya (translation = Elmo). Hmmmph (loving them all).

Jack believes that people are essentially good.

I'd like to believe that too. Except for today. I believe I met the mean guy in the gym. Here I am, after lifting weights for an hour, ready to row for some cardio. I hop on my rowing machine and the old man next to me tells me it's broken. I have already attempted to start, but the chain is slack and rowing is impossible.

I move across the hallway to hop on another rower and I get started. When I row, the world disappears. I  am plugged into my iPod and jamming out to whatever pops up next while I row, row, row my imaginary boat down my imaginary stream of mindless work. Today it was something like this: Stinkfist (Tool), Why Go (Pearl Jam), Some Devil (Dave Matthews), Bulls on Parade (Rage) and on and on. I was working it. So here I am, some 3500 meters downstream and 20 minutes of my life exercised away, when upon standing, the old man from earlier motions me over to him.

I walk, dripping sweat, legs tight from my rowing, over to where he only for him to look at me with a grimace on his face and say "You really need to learn how to row correctly, because that just did absolutely nothing for you. You're supposed to be working your legs, your abdominals, and you, you're working you arms and legs. Really, you need to learn the proper technique. You shouldn't be getting more than 30 rows per minute." [Meanwhile, I continue to drip sweat, obviously because the rowing I just did absolutely nothing for me.]

This is what the old man heard me say: "Oh, really. Hmmm. Okay. Thanks." [Anna walks away shaking her head in disbelief].

This is what the old man should have heard and might have heard if he had the ability to read minds:


Who the hell do you think you are, you old fart? I have NOT been rowing my ass off over there for some perv-old man who apparently isn't rowing, but instead watching me and counting how many rows I get per minute, to hear you decide it is your place and time to become a personal trainer. Suck it old man. I do know how to row and actually, I think you are doing it wrong. However, I know it is impolite to share fitness tips unless specifically requested. AND GUESS WHAT.... I DON'T REMEMBER ASKING YOUR ADVICE OR OPINION. I think you're just jealous. Bitch.

That's just how I row.

Anna Marie (and Jack and the Bradley have my back)

Adventures in Norfolk, VA

Some of you might be wondering, "What the heck are the Armstrongs doing in Norfolk?" (Not really, but it was a good way to start my post). We are moving towards the end of our ten week "visit" as the Bradley finishes up his latest military training here at the Joint Forces Staff College (JFSC). While other folks arrived here sans family, Brad was like, "No way. My family comes with me." It has been an interesting new adventure - Brad has been slightly more stressed than his usual (thank you JFSC), Jack had some adjusting to do, as did I.

Jack and I have tried to spend the past two months pretending to be a tourist in Norfolk. Now approaching our "three weeks left" mark, the reality is starting to set in....we have become more than tourists. We have grown attached to Norfolk. I surprised Brad last week when we got stuck in a traffic jam, and I knew the "back roads" to get us home a different route. I am already feelings waves of nostalgia creep up on the shore of our lives here and we haven't even left yet. We've got three weeks left to fully take in the land, sand and sea that surrounds us in this almost quaint town. In order to plan our next few weeks, I have to re-visit all that we have done in this land of festivals. (Yes, there seems to be some kind of festival every weekend. Some people might hate this. We happen to be the festival-loving kind.)

Anna to Jack: Jack, where would you like to go today?
Jack to Anna: YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!

Welcome to the Blocker Norfolk Y
Immediately, Jack and I both realized we needed a social outlet (me for the gym and Jack for the socialization with his peeps). We took matters into our own hands and found the Blocker Norfolk YMCA of South Hampton Roads in downtown Norfolk.

Pure awesomeness. Six floors of the best YMCA I have ever laid eyes on. They have it all....state of the art ChildWatch center (Jack's favorite), indoor lap pool, locker rooms that include towels AND soap, the fantastic Chickpea Cafe, two floors of cardio machines, workout machines (including HumanSport functional training - LOVE them), and an entire floor (the famous 4th floor) of free weights, my personal favorite, and these are just the things we like about the place. I also have had the freedom to run outside while Jack is in ChildWatch (which is like instant sanity restoration for me). There are also as many fitness classes you can think of, including spin. To top it off, we get the luxury of Parent's Night Out. Twice a month, a Friday night where ChildWatch is open and you get three hours of babysitting (included in your membership). Doesn't sound like a big deal? We don't have "a" babysitter. Ever. Unless we travel to another state where our family lives, we always take Jack on dates. And that is fine with us - we had him for a reason. But, a date with just us, even though we spent most of the time talking about our little ankle biter, was pretty nice. We had a very nice evening at Todd Jurich's Bistro, dirty martinis and all. To top all of this off, the staff at Blocker Norfolk Y are incredible. Reason #1 we like we are at home here...it's like walking into the bar on Cheers, because everybody knows your name. Yes, we do go there 6 out of 7 days of the week. But who wouldn't - it's a fantastic place to be. Love it. Already missing it and we haven't even left yet.

I guess this sums up our first week. Aside from taking fantastic tricycle rides all over the base, we kept things low key to adjust to our new "digs."

The Land of Festivals
Since our arrival in Norfolk, we have attended more festivals than I thought possible in the 7 weeks we have been here. Let's start at the beginning. We started with the East Beach Festival which was small, had about twenty tents with vendors hocking their wares, and a wine tasting. We did enjoy the wine tasting. It was more interesting to walk around this scenic Norman Rockwell-esque community. Very pretty and most certainly, very expensive.

We live on the same base where NATO is located (well, one of their many locations). Guess what goes along with that? The NATO Festival (previously known as the Azalea Festival). Great for interesting food samples and lively performers.

We then hit up the Greek Festival (one of the oldest festivals in Norfolk). This was great for a quick Greek food/dessert fix, however, we later found the Orapax for great Greek food that wasn't quite as pricey (and much nicer than sitting outside in a tent eating souvlaki & dolmas).

Our most recent festival, the Pungo Strawberry Festival was this weekend. Yes, it was a festival. Strawberries? Hardly. I guess it's hard to compare to the Plant City Strawberry Festival. Seriously, a strawberry festival is not a strawberry festival if 1) there are absolutely no strawberries for sale, 2) there are no giant tents set up just to serve strawberry shortcake, and 3) the only option you have includes a small square of cake with pre-frozen strawberries from Sam's club. I kid you not. No biscuits versus cake. No Cool Whip versus Whipped Cream. You had three options of where to plop your $5 for some mediocre shortcake. This is one disappointed Florida girl...hoping for something close to the Strawberry festival from home.

Jack and I have had several days for our own special dates together. One of those dates included a visit to the Virginia Aquarium . Again, another one of those things that was great to see but once you've been to Florida's, it's hard to compare. The highlight of this trip was checking out some really ugly. large, fish - to which Jack repeated, "No. No. No." in an effort to get me to back his stroller away from the glass. To top it off, it was overpriced as was their cafe.

Other check marks on our hit list
Let me make it clear...I hate going to the Kid's Play Areas in shopping malls. The ones in DC look like ant farms. We usually avoid them altogether for that reason (and for the kids who are way over that 42" rule and like to perform stunt off the top of the styrofoam play things while you know their parents are out shopping). However, we have discovered the mack daddy of all play areas and it is rarely occupied. Add to the gated entrances and an ever present security guard and you have the MacArthur Center Kid's Play Area (or the keedz arrreea puhhhweeez? as Jack asks). I suggest one of two courses of action....either do your shopping first and use the keedz arreea as your carrot or let them completely exhaust themselves in said arreea and then stuff them with lunch, place in stroller and boom, naptime = shoppingtime). The shopping is great - whether you are there to buy or just window shop. Imagine International Mall in Tampa, FL plus Old Hyde Park shops and that's what you have (minus the SonyStyle store, Sarah).

On one of our Mama and Jack days, we decided to check out the Virginia Zoo. Jack and I consider ourselves  of connoisseurs of zoos. We love the National Zoo...we actually became FONZ (Friends of the National Zoo) because we are partial to that one (and well, it's cheaper to drive there in 15 minutes and have free parking as members rather than ride the Metro for an hour and pay $10). Well, I can recall our visits to the Montgomery Zoo and well, it was more interesting to look at the people than the animals (and no, the Montgomery Zoo doesn't even get linked). The same holds for the Virginia Zoo, except the people weren't too interesting either. We did like seeing the random domestic cat walking around and the local geese, but otherwise, eh.

On a whim, we decided to go check out Andalo's Clubhouse. It is part of the Virginia Children's Museum which is closed for renovations, but Andalo's is still open. If you are a Tampa native, imagine  Safety Village and the little grocery/bank/pretend land of your preschool/elementary school years (located near good 'ol Lowry Park). When you walk in, the first room is dedicated to Thomas the Tank Engine. Let me equate Jack's reaction to what I would experience if I walked into a room stocked with every kind of chocolate imaginable...pause, suck in a lot of air, and then, "Whoaaaa" after which I might either pass out or dive in mouth open. Jack did just this....and started saying, "choo choo choo choo" and jumped right into playing. We then bounced around in a tot sized version of a gymnastics gym and spent the rest of our time pretending to be bankers, hitting the boop-boop buttons on cash register at the grocery store, building our dream house out of styrofoam blocks and playing with giant-sized science experiments (seriously, Bernoulli's Principle and Gaussian distributions). Between a public health geek, a physicist/meteorologist/Air Force officer and a toddler...a blast was had by all.

And if all of this isn't enough....we also have Buckroe Beach where Jack and I watched an air craft carrier set out to sea, realized we're not that fond of sand, and played on a very hot playground.

Finally, some dining highlights...but we have yet so much more to accomplish.
If you want a great Indian lunch buffet, check out Rajput Indian. Great service, delicious curry, chutneys, and tandoori. Top it all of with some rice pudding and your tastebuds will do a little dance.

If you want fantastic pizza, locals, kitsch, and chicks with arm sleeve tats that wear make-up like Kat Von whats-her-name,  Cogan's is the place. Seriously good pizza. Seriously heavy smokers sitting outside, so hold your breath while walking in and out.

If you want to go where to locals go for crappy, over steamed seafood, check out Chicks Oyster Bar. Really. Everyone kept telling us to check it out. We did. We weren't impressed.

In the famous closing words of my mother...alright. I have written way too much and while I now have a perspective on all the wonderful things we have done here in Norfolk, we still have more we want to do. The crazy thing is, I haven't even listed EVERYTHING we've done, like hitting up Doumar's, or Busch Gardens Williamsburg. We've hit Virginia Beach, some of the local shops, and countless breakfast joints.

This has turned into a tourist advertisement for Norfolk. Definitely work checking out. Glad we've had the opportunity.

Definitely sad to be leaving....but we've got three weeks left to enjoy. That's what we plan to do!

Cheers and have a great Memorial Day!

Anna Marie, Bradley and Jack

The Top Ten Reasons Why I Hate (and Love) Being Unemployed.

Let me start by saying, I am partially unemployed. Teaching online and teaching a spin class does bring all of the usual suspects involved in full-time work...paycheck, work, frustration, time, feeling of satisfaction, feeling of making a difference, and on and on.

However, here are some of my current complaints of being unemployed (or you could re-phrase this and say "complaints of being a full-time parent" because if ANYONE dare say this isn't full-time work, they are out of their frickity-frackin' mind!)

1. I hate that all the brainpower knowledge and skills developed during those long years of hard-work, dedication, and late nights spent and boring journal articles, textbooks, paper writing obtaining a higher education are currently not being used to its fullest potential to benefit society and my brain is melting.
2. I have unlimited time with my son Jack - I have been a part of everything, from first rolls and walks to words. This is a love. However, it is also causing my brain to melt. People (or at least people like me) are not meant to be cooped up with small children all day. We don't even "coop" ourselves up...we socialize at the YMCA, we go to new places, etc., etc. I have evidence that it is unhealthy to be "employed" as a full-time parent. Evidence A: my older sister complained of her eye twitching...constantly...for years. It still does and her children are all over the age of 10. She also needed at least a glass of wine every night to function. Evidence B: My eye twitches when around more than one child (even if one is mine). Evidence C: I only have one child and I need a glass of wine every single night. Does any of this sound healthy? I love this little booger, but I also feel like I lose my mind on  daily basis. Don't think for a second, "Oh, I'd love to be a full-time mom." Try it for oh, 19 months or so (as opposed to 6 weeks of standard maternity leave) and then tell me what you think. Yes, you might not have to wake-up, get the child ready, yourself ready, drop-off, pick-up, blah, blah, blah. But you do get a full 8 hours of being a grown-up when you work outside of your home. You also might actually get to enjoy a cup of coffee and drink it before 1) it gets cold, 2) you have to change poop or, 3) you feel guilty for thinking you should get to actually enjoy a cup of coffee. Wow- that became a long one. Bring on the mommy-guilt. 
3. I hate reading rejection letters. No. Worse than that...I hate not ever even receiving a telephone call, email, or letter that acknowledges the presence of my cover letter or CV in Company/Organization/Federal Agency's hot little inbox/hands/trash. These days in our new, post-post-modern era of efficient communication, we don't waste time/paper/seconds to respond to over-eager potential employees who are waiting for ANY form of anything to at least get their hopes up. Once. Bastards. Actually, I also hate getting letters that say "There were many highly qualified candidates (Unsaid: You were not one of them.). Or the one letter that actually said, "You were not qualified for this position." Thanks potential dream job. What the hell does my Ph.D. mean then? Oh yeah, I was definitely one of those Ph.D. students who parents paid for everything, I got absolutely no experience, and I sat around all day thinking about dissertation topics. RIGHT.  
4. This leads me to my 4th "hate" related to being unemployed (and apparently unemployable). I hate that this said lack of employment coupled with crappy rejection (or lack of) letters has led me to question my abilities as a professional. I can tell myself "times are tough, a lot of people are unemployed, the economy is crap," but somehow the doubt still creeps in...and I have actually thought I might need to return to school of some kind for continuing education. See, my brain is actually melting.  
5. I love/hate that with all of my spare time, I have felt compelled to do insanely exhausting things like make baby food from scratch, visit every museum/zoo/playground I can locate, play silly baby games all day until my brain completely turns to mush, and try out blogging (just in case leaving it somewhat stagnant hasn't completed the job). [Okay, so this #5 is more of a love one. I mean seriously, there was NOTHING else to do in Montgomery, Alabama, so making baby food (www.beabausa.com) from scratch kept me inside away from, well, society in general. It also saved tons of money so I could have some to spend in oh my god expensive DC.]  
6. I love that being unemployed has allowed me to explore every city I have lived in until I know it like the locals. Being married to someone in the military, that has translated into three cities in three years. There is something to be said for exploring new cities, finding your way around intricate traffic patterns and navigating various healthcare systems. What that something is, I am not sure. Added bonus: when the Bradley gets to travel to desirable destinations, I don't need to submit a vacation request. 
7. I hate that the further away from working I get, the harder it will be to get working again. Routine, routine, arghhh....time to change the routine. It's always about adapting and I have become quite skilled at this. Change is good. The ability to adapt to change quickly is beneficial. I am good at these things. I actually like change, crave it, and enjoy it. It's the transition to the new routine that is highly irritating. 
8. I hate wondering if I will even know my dream job when I see it. My sister keeps saying, "The right job will come along when it is meant to be." At this rate, I wonder if I will still be considered "qualified" (and there's that doubt creeping in again). 
9. I hate being introduced to people my husband works with/knows and when they ask what I do, I say I take care of Jack, teach online, and teach a spin class. Invariably, their eyes always glaze over once they hear "take care of Jack." 
10.  I hate that it took being unemployed/employed as a full-time parent to realize that my own mom had the toughest, most rigorous, taxing job in the world. Harder than any other out there. I hate that I feel like I can't handle it some days (and I only have one, while she handled teen, kid and toddlers all at once). I wonder if she wished she could get a job to break free from the eye-twitching madness that is being a mother. I know I do. And I hate feeling guilty about that, but in the end I will probably be a happier mama for doing it (or I will be like everyone else, and end up wishing I was a full-time, stay at home mama). 

I think the loves won over the hates. It is what it is - I am a full-time mama, part-time employee and somehow juggle it all. I have a lot of perks that other full-time mamas don't have, so I know that my list is at best, selfish and I shouldn't take my role at this point for granted. 

You know how it goes, you always want what you don't have. 

Here's looking forward to that glass of wine!

Anna Marie

Big boats...I mean ships and life in Norfolk.

We have happily become squatters transients temporarily displaced persons in Norfolk, Virginia. It's really not that bad. It's like living in a microcosm of society. Living on a Navy annex in temporary lodging has its perks....lots of playgrounds, housekeeping service, and free toilet paper. We use a lot of toilet paper.

We have been here three weeks now and have already 1) joined a YMCA and made new friends, 2) figured out how to get to the most important places (commissary, Harris Teeter, NEX, and shopping malls), 3) visited major landmarks, tourist attractions (Aquarium=total rip-off...way over priced to see fish/sharks). Oh, I forgot the important one...pissed off the Commanding Officer of a Navy ship we had the honor of touring. Jack loved it...but kept calling it a boat. On our way to the tour, some of Brad's classmates and Brad were discussing how it is an insult to call a ship a boat. Mentally I make a note to self (ship, ship, ship). Well, recall that joke you would tell when you were a kid...you know it goes something like this:

Anna: Hey Susie, what do you get from a cow?

Susie: Milk.

Anna: What?

Susie: Milk!

Anna: What?

Susie: Milk! Milk! Milk!!!

Anna: What does a cow drink?

Susie: MILK!!!!

Anna: (rofl) WATER!!!

I love kindergarten jokes. Well, this gets worse.

Jack: boat, boat, boat, boat, boat.

Anna: Ship, ship, ship

Jack: boat, boat, boat

Anna: Ship, ship, ship, ship

Brad: Anna' this is CDR so-and-so (probably not nice to call him so-and-so)

Anna: So nice to meet you (flash sweet I am really a nice person smile aka fake smile)

CDR: Thank you for coming (flashes I am so sick of this crap smile)

Brad: (proudly) this is my son Jack

CDR: Hi Jack - so what do you think?

Anna: (already speaking for son) Jack loves the boat (BOAT!!! BOAT!!! Holy crap mental note to self did not work!!!

CDR: (Face contorts into twisted I hate this woman look)

Anna: Ship, ship, I mean ship, Jack has been calling it a boat. (TOO LATE...and this explanation only makes it worse. Keep digging).

CDR: (I wish we really had a plank, because I would throw this snitch off of it right now).

Anna: (Um, I am meant to be a professional career woman...and continue to bomb at this military spouse crap).

Brad: (look of horror remains on face for at least five minutes despite best efforts to reassure me it was no big deal).

Right. Awkward pleasantries continue.

Nice. So, we have really made our mark here so far. I have also been rejected by yet another job, decided that Jack is sick of having me around 24/7 and we both want full-time jobs so we can better appreciate our time with each other.

Actually, we are enjoying our time and trying to make the most of it as a family. Weekends are spent exploring. NATO is here (on the same annex we live on) so we had the opportunity to attend the NATO festival this weekend. Norfolk loves festivals, so this will keep us busy.

It will also give me some interesting fodder for writing. Stay tuned!

Anna Marie

So much for the blog

I have yet to add anything to the good 'ol blog. After watching House this past week with Brad, I am not so sure that blogging would be such a good idea. I'm that kind of obsessive-compulsive person who might get carried away/addicated to the blog, updating the blog, posting pictures in the blog, etc.

Well, not really. That would've been me BB (before baby). However, now most of my day revolves around running after Jack.

I will try to get this thing running soon. Look forward to seeing some of our adventures in Norfolk as we start yet another Armstrong Adventure.

AMTA