Happy New Year!
I know I was a little MIA, but, like Lauryn Hill, I am worth the wait, guys.
Plus, I was doing really important stuff.
Like, playing in the the snow in Central Park as the blizzard began.
I’m not sure if you can tell or not, but I am wearing leggings in that photo. Three pairs to be exact.
So why doesn’t a girl who grew up in New England, has lived in Colorado and now lives in New York own some darn snow pants of some sort?
Well, she does.
But I couldn’t get the snow pants to go over my butt.
Alright, so I had a baby 8 months ago. It’s okay that I haven’t already lost the weight. Yada. Yada. Yada.
But the truth is, I am pretty sure I didn’t carry that baby in my butt. I mean it sounds weird even saying it. Yeah, I am pretty sure that wasn’t how it went.
So there is really no excuse for my butt to not fit in SNOW PANTS. We aren’t talking a mini skirt or some skinny jeans (which, obviously, are also gathering dust in my closet.) We are talking SNOW PANTS. Things you are supposed to be able to wear over layers of clothing and still have them be somewhat baggy.
(To clarify, I actually own ‘snowboarding’ pants, not ‘ski bunny tight’ snow pants, hence the ‘baggy’ description. Also to clarify, I don’t actually snowboard so much as want to look cool when I walk around ski resorts.)
So, to make me feel better about my ‘butter butt,’ I did other important stuff while I was MIA…
Like learn how to make flan. Lots and lots of flan.
Because how else is a girl supposed to lose some weight, right?
One of the best things I did on my little break was just to hang out with my boys. The kind of hanging out that leads to giggles and memories. The Doing Nothing that makes you more happy than you can imagine.
And then of course, I was busy, you know, celebrating Christmas. Entertaining 15 or so guests. Trying to figure out where to store Carlitos’ 17 new puzzles. Drooling over Xavi’s 36 new pairs of socks in hopes of having two that match every once in awhile.
Then we were busy trying to consume the ridiculous amount of food they all left in their wake when they took off early Sunday morning instead of Monday afternoon, in order to beat the blizzard. I have never eaten so much lasagna, glazed ham and baked brie in my LIFE.
I am sure it did wonders for my weight. I have not done myself the honor of trying on those stupid snow pants again, so I can’t say for sure. They probably won’t even go past my knees now. Who knows…or cares.
As we ate our way through leftovers and flan and quiche (what else do you do with three dozen eggs, two cheese platters and an entire glazed ham?) that week I can say I didn’t get much sleep.
Which leads me to the final important thing I did while I wasn’t posting on here: celebrated New Years Eve. We drove down to a family beach house in Delaware and packed about 18 of us into a 3 bedroom home. Luckily, since we are the only ones so far to have little ones, we get an actual bedroom.
Apparently, this special gift was not enough for me.
We had an amazing time on New Years Eve. There were cocktails galore, a ridiculous amount of food, and the best dance party mix I have EVER HEARD. (Can you imagine who made it? wink wink)
After the ball dropped I couldn’t hold my eyelids open any longer. I was done. Completely. This whole holiday season took it out of me big time and when the calendar page turned to 2011 my body just said ‘Enough.’
I went into our bedroom to sleep and my husband quickly came in and kicked me out.
Can you believe it?!? He kicked me out! Told me I had to leave and couldn’t sleep in there!
Something dumb about how he was trying to put the baby to sleep and I was knocking stuff over and making too much noise and how Carlitos also needed to be put to bed.
All I heard was, “Whine, whine. You can’t sleep in here. Blah blah. Get out. Whine blah whine, Grrr.”
So I went out to the party room and growled said, “I need to friggin’ SLEEP!!!”
Apparently it sounded reminiscent of Pregnant Annie when I NEED FOOD. So people hopped to and moved out of my way and cowered in the corner.
Next thing I know, it is morning.
I look over and realize that Carlitos Eli is next to me, with his Tia next to him, and I am lying on my in-law’s bed.
I sit up and realize further that they are asleep…
on the floor.
Oh, dear. Pretty sure this is a big no-no in some rule book somewhere about how to treat your in-laws.
So, I will be making more flan* the next time I see them to make it up to them.
*My New Year’s gift to you is the flan recipe I just learned. Caution: In my experience of learning recipes from anyone of Latin origin, there are not always ‘measurements’ or other silly things like that. I wrote this recipe accordingly.
Put a lot of sugar in a tinfoil baking dish
Put the dish over the stove burner and move it around with a spatula until it is all a golden brown liquid.
Use the spatula to pull some of the liquid sugar up the sides of the pan about a half an inch.
In a large bowl mix together:
7 or 8 eggs
One can sweetened condensed milk
One can evaporated milk
Fill the empty can with regular milk and add that, too
Add a little bit of vanilla (or alcohol or Doble Crema cheese or instant coffee)
Beat it with an immersion blender until it is blended and there are tiny bubbles of foam on top
Pour it into the baking dish with the (now hardened) sugar
Put this baking dish into a larger one with water in it (a water bath, or Baño Maria)
Put in a 370 degree oven for about 2 hours (give or take 45 minutes)
Take it out when it looks golden on top and seems gently firm throughout
If anyone of you are as white uptight about cooking as I am, these directions are probably killing you. But go with it. Trust me, the results are always more delicious than you can imagine.