Good-bye 2013, Hello 2014

The second half of 2013 was definitely hard on us.  My brother's leukemia has dominated everything, almost overshadowing the good things of 2013.  However, it's those good things that kept me from falling apart.

For example, this kid here helped keep my sanity intact.

All the drooly smiles, the hearty laughs, the raspberries, kept a smile on my face and in my heart.

I thoroughly enjoyed watching my son learn and discover the art of walking, eating, playing and gnawing on a cat.  

The screams of joy on the swing, or watching himself on my cameraphone are not to be missed.

The speed at which he is growing is astounding.  His foot is measuring at 7 and he's in size 24-month clothes.  Yikes.

Great sleeper, eater and extremely active.  It's how I know something's wrong; when he wants to cuddle.

And he loves to read.  I have caught him several times "reading" and I love it.  I'm hopeful that he's continue this love of books, like his momma, throughout his life.

So, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, gentle reader.

May 2014 be special and magical for you.  Only you can make it so because I believe everyone is magical.  Just look at Noah.  He can light up a room with his toothy smile and silly laughs.  My son the magician continues to save us all from the heartache of leukemia as well as anything that may ail ya.

Leukemia

For the past month and a half, my beloved brother has been dealing with his leukemia and it's been shitty.  Real shitty.  I don't know how to adequately describe how I've been feeling because my emotions have been all over the place.  I'm sad, angry, sad, heartbroken, super sad, anxious, stressed, burnt out, and super fucking sad.  I want to scream all the time.  I want to scream as loud as I can from the top of a building.  I want to shout, "FUCK!" until my throat is raw.  I want to take a bat to the ground until I don't have the strength to lift it up anymore.  I want to punch the walls.  I want to run.  I want to run so far away.  I want to cry and scream and not wake up until the leukemia is gone.  As I type this, I want to puke.  I want to puke all of my insides out.  This isn't supposed to happen.  It wasn't supposed to happen.  Anyone but my brother.  Why not me?  Not my brother.

From one moment to the next, things can change.  It did here.  Brother's body started resisting his meds for CML and, in a week, it accelerated into ALL, a very aggressive form of leukemia.  It grew so rapidly and my brother was in so much pain that briefly, I feared the worse.  And yet, I didn't cry.  I held it in.  I didn't want to cry like I did last time.  And yet, one day, while I was visiting, I was informed that brother needed a lumbar puncture to check if the leukemia was in his spine, which is bad.  And they wheeled him away and I stood there, holding in those tears, screaming at them from the inside, "Don't you dare fall.  Don't you dare trickle out of my eye because I know you won't be the only tear. You'll bring your friends. DON'T YOU DARE FALL OUT!"  As soon as brother was out of the room and down the hall, I sat down, held my face in the palms of my hands and cried.  I cried puddles of tears into my hands and sobbed.  The BNC, who must have developed ninja skills because I didn't hear him creep up to me, all while holding The Kid, stroked my hair, held his hand on my head and then left.  He knew I didn't want Noah to see me like this.  

The sleepless nights I endured when I was younger have returned.  I lay awake at night, hiding my insomnia from the BNC, and think horrible thoughts.  The Kid never really kept me up but my brother's disease does.  I think of all that he has gone through and all that he will have to go through.  I think about how I need to not cry in his presence.  How I need to keep it together for his sake and for our parents' sake.  I think about The Kid and how he can't see me upset because kids are smart.  Brother was upset one day and Noah came over and stood in front of him and held his knee.  I'm sure he knows something's up and I'm preparing myself should he ever ask me about memories he has from this time.

All the doctor appointments, the special tests, the blood transfusions, the chemo treatments, the dialysis for his blood, the lumbar punctures, the loss of hair, the pneumonia, the biopsies, the bruises on his back and his arms, the port on his chest, the morphine-filled phone calls in the middle of the night because he was so doped up he didn't know what time it was, the special clean room he was in, the move to the ICU because he developed heart arrhythmia, the throat infection, talk of a bone marrow transplant, Sportscenter all day, and my brother laying there, doing it all, fighting back his tears, not wanting to be there, and slowly breaking my heart watching this, this is what we've been through otherwise known as my family's darkest hour.  

I thought a lot about my brother during this time but also of my mom.  Now that I am a mother, I have looked at her in a whole different light and have grown to admire her so much more than I already had.  However, I cannot imagine what she went through, and still is, as her son, her youngest child, battles leukemia.  I prayed for her.  I asked people to pray for her.  I don't know what I would have done had it been my own kid going through all of this, feeling powerless because the one thing you want, enduring this rather than your kid, isn't going to happen.  My momma had already lost a son, born before me, and I know it changed her.  She still thinks of her lost son, mourns for him, wonders what he would have been doing now so watching her 33 year-old son lay there, broke her heart all over again.  My dad, watching all of this, crying, begging God to spare his son, all while my brother shed hair and spoke incoherently to people who were not in the room.  

And is spite of this awful time, I look to my faith to help me keep it together.  I don't question why or how because it can drive you mad, but rather, I seek strength during these most difficult times and I must be getting it because I've made it this far without cracking.  I do beg.  I beg just like I did that time 4+ years ago.  I beg for my brother and I won't stop begging.  I also have had the BNC, who has been a rock to me and my family.  He's run errands for us and checked in on Brother when we couldn't.  The support of family and friends has been overwhelming.  Just this past Saturday, a benefit was held to help raise some funds for Brother whose short term disability will end soon and, if he's not back at work in January, will have to be let go.  Our goal more than doubled.  It was amazing and so emotional and I wish I could thank everyone who is praying for us.  It was quite the job to handle all the phone calls and texts from people wanting to help.  My brother's friends are amazing.  I started coordinating who could visit and take food otherwise Brother would have had about 10 dinners taken to him each evening.  I'm glad we aren't alone.

I also have my Noah who celebrated his first birthday while B was in the hospital.  He's hit several milestones during this time as well such as walking, drinking milk, dancing, learning to be gentle with the cats, etc.  He's been a joy and part of my salvation.

My beloved B, the light of my life, my growing-up partner in crime, one of my bestest friends, one of my favorite people, how I love thee...

A Big Day

So many things happening as of late.  Not only has my son turned 10 months old but he also got baptized this past Sunday.  It's an big moment for us.  Not only did I ever imagine that I would have a son but one that would be baptized into my Catholic faith.  As we waited outside, behind the Archbishop, I felt such a sense of pride, of amazement at this moment.  My lovely Noah was about to be washed of original sin.  And I cried.

I've been making photo books, canvases as well as thank you cards via Shutterfly just to capture the moment and share with everyone who was there but also those who weren't.

5x7 Folded Card

View the entire collection of cards.

Parenthood

What they don't tell you about Parenthood is that 99% of the time you will spend it in fear.  You will live in fear and you will love in fear.  It's an awful way to live but that's Parenthood for you.

The Kid was sick last week and, at first, I thought he had gotten what I had which was the flu.  I had to go to the doctor's because I knew I was not going to be able to beat it on my own.  Sure enough, The Kid developed a fever, puked and got a runny nose.  A doctor's visit cleared him of strep throat as well as the flu so yay.  He had the fever for the next few days until Saturday morning when he woke up with a normal temperature.  Sunday morning is when he woke up with a rash on his belly and back.  Our pediatrician indicated that it wasn't measles and it would go away on its own.  What was it?  Roseola.  You would think that it would have calmed me down but in case you haven't figured this out by now, it didn't.  It broke my heart into a billion little pieces watching The Kid smile at me as his belly was all blotchy.  Fear.  Fear, coupled with anxiety, has taken over my life.  Last night, I drifted in and out of sleep as I thought about The Kid and the illness he was going to get as the years went on.  I thought about how much anxiety it was going to give me and how I was going to keep cool hand Luking it all, as I have since his birth, while my insides caved into themselves and I screamed a billion screams while I watch my son, my beautiful son, cough and cough because he didn't know you have to cough it up and spit it out.  Fear.  Mind you, I'm not talking about making sure his new clothes were washed in Dreft and that his water only came from that endless spring in the mountains because I don't do that.  Nah.  The Kid wears new clothes that I didn't wash first, etc.  I'm not trying to raise a child who only drinks Fiji Water. (Unless I had to.)  My fear comes from the fact that I was a sick kid.  I got the flu about every other month.  My bout with chicken pox (where I was covered in it) overlapped with my bout with the measles.  I was THAT kid.  That kid who got a horrible cough because I went out at night without a jacket.  About the few things giving me any kind of comfort are simple facts such as breastfeeding and thus passing on my immunities to The Kid.  But, that is of little comfort because anything can happen.  I'm hoping and praying that he inherited his dad's knack for avoiding illness since he escaped my flu-demic.  Time will tell what side of the coin The Kid will land on.

Despite all the worry and fear consuming my life now, it's that 1% that makes it worth while.  I could have an awful day at work and come home to a baby who is all smiles and laughter and my awful day is immediately forgotten.  He's is a complete joy despite waking up at 3a today and deciding he just wanted to hang out.  That was a first.  At least he wasn't up screaming his head off or sick.  It's the little things.

Welcome to Parenthood.

Happy Valentine's Day

Several years ago, the BNC and I stopped celebrating Valentine's Day.  It became so stressful trying to find a place to eat, a movie to watch, cards to find and flowers to give.  It felt like a race every year to beat the crowds and try and have a good time just so we could say that we did something on Valentine's Day when people would ask.  Ugh.  Such a chore and not many people enjoy chores.  Slowly, we stopped buying each other cards and started staying in to eat by ordering a pizza.  The flowers stopped and that was a welcome thing because I'm not too fond of flowers.  I have a brown thumb.  I can't even grow mint, the weed of herbs, so taking care of those flowers also became a chore.  Then, one year, it stopped.  We thought, "Who are we competing with to prove our love for one another?  Besides, shouldn't every day be Valentine's Day?"  Suddenly, the pressure fell off.  We lived our lives and all was grand.  And then we had our son.  As today's date crept up, I figured that I would purchase a card for my son's first Valentine's Day.  But, as soon as I thought that, things started churning in my head about this date and what it really meant.  First off, it shouldn't be a competition; it should just be a day to celebrate love of all kinds for your friends and family.  Family.  My son is my family.  And, just like that, I'm back to celebrating today.  I want to celebrate love because my son is love.  He is lucky in love and will never, ever be poor in love.  He may only be 6-months old right now but next Valentine's Day, he will have a pretty good idea of what today means.  So, the BNC and I will celebrate this day once again.  Mostly it will revolve around the love we have for our son in hopes that one day he will return the gesture to all of those who have fallen in love with him at first sight.  Who could not with this face?

So, Happy Valentine's Day, Reader.  I hope your day is full of love.  To my son, Noah, my little nutbrown hare, you are loved beyond measure.

Grown-Up Stuff

I thought I knew what fear was.  It turns out, I didn't even have the slightest of clues.  Losing this little boy, my new favorite person is fear.  I know that it's not just my heart that would be crushed but many others as well.  My son is lucky in love already simply because there are so many people that love him.  As my aunt once said, he will never, ever be poor in love.

What brings all this crazy talk up?  Well, I have to update my life insurance policy as well as create an official will.  You know, grown-up stuff.

The End Result

I know that I have taken my sweet time with a follow-up post concerning the birth of my son.  My apologies.  In a nutshell, shit happens.  What kind of shit?  Oh, I dunno.  An unscheduled c-section because your son's heart rate is not responding very well to the contractions which led to unbelievable pain afterwards.  That pain prohibited me from rising out of bed to tend to my crying baby.  But how can I soothe my baby when he refused to latch on so I could feed him?  That was just the start.

The Baby Blues came in full force.  I already felt like a failure for not being able to properly birth my son so not being able to tend to him and feed him added to it.  But, the Baby Blues will happen to just about anyone.  It's the Post Partum Depression that one has to be on the lookout for afterwards.  (And here is my warning because I am about to open up more than I am prone to.)  I have battled depression before so I knew very well that I could go back there after giving birth.  I knew what I was supposed to look out for; the thoughts, the pain and the tears.  For a few hours, after the BNC went off to work and before my mom came over to help me as I recuperated, I would cry.  I would cry as I held my son and begged his forgiveness at my inability to be a good mother to him.  I begged that he forget how awful I was being.  It was a dark hole that, at the time, I didn't see any light.  I heard nothing but static in an empty room and I just simply couldn't find the door.  The anxiety was absolutely horrible.  I dreaded stepping out of the house for simple things such as buying bread.  I hated being outside as well as being away from my son.

But then, upon my own realization of the type of hole I found myself in, I visited my doctor and cried to her about it all.  God bless that woman.  She handed me a tissue, put her hand on my shoulder and told me that all was going to be okay.  She gave me Zoloft and kept me from returning back to work for a few more weeks.  I love her.

And, just like that, I got better.  I woke up with energy and a smile.  Yes, it takes a while for the medication to kick in but the simple fact that I was doing something about it made me feel a bit better.  I was on the road to getting better.  A month later and I am calm and happy.  If I am alone all day with my son, I don't panic at all whereas previously, I had a mini-meltdown when my mom was unable to stop by and lend a hand.  Of course, it helps a great deal when you have a very happy baby.

Noah is now 2 months old and I finally able to feel like his mother.  I still marvel at him.  I am amazed that I am a mother to a beautiful and healthy baby.  My diabetes didn't affect him at all.  That makes every sacrifice I did while pregnant worth it.  

Rounding Third

Tomorrow evening, July 26th, we are scheduled to check into our hospital and be induced.  I'm anxious to meet my son already; to make sure that he is okay.  It's only then will I finally relax and take that long awaited deep breath of relief.  

In a way, I am very happy to know when and how everything will happen.  No Hollywood movie scene here though a part of me was hoping for an August baby.  Then again, the only reason for that was to make sure he would be full term.  My prayer was half answered; he will be full term but just not in August.  I'm okay with that.  We are as ready as we will be.  A few minor things to do and we are set to go.

And, before I forget, I want to express my deepest gratitude to my BNC.  He has been a rock throughout this whole pregnancy.  He went to just about every appointment and tried his hardest to make me comfortable and happy especially during these last few weeks when things became more and more difficult.  I tried to include him in every decision because, after all, this is his son as well.  I wouldn't have made it without his support.  He pushed me and encouraged me when I thought I couldn't continue.  I have no doubt in my mind that he will be a remarkable father to our son because he has been a remarkable husband to me.  /sappiness

It has been a long and difficult journey but I'm confident that all the sacrifice and hard work will be worth it and I, for one, cannot wait to meet the end result.

33 weeks

OMG.  Less than 7 weeks remain (I hope) before The Kid makes his appearance.  At my most recent doctor appointment, my doctor told me she was surprised that I was doing so well given that I've had 3 things working against me since the beginning; my age (35), my diabetes and my mild hypertension.  All 3 put me in the high risk category.  At this point, it seems that I won't have any use for insulin injections.  However, I do have an upcoming appointment with my endocrinologist so that could change.  Anything can happen.  I wouldn't refuse the insulin.  I'd do anything if it meant having a healthy and beautiful baby.  Taking care of myself means that I'm taking care of The Kid.  

Currently, I visit my OB doctor, my endocrinologist and now, the maternal/fetal center where they will check The Kid every week until he's born.  They will check his growth as well as his heart rate, etc.  At last check, he is in the 59% tile which is very good.  It's where he should be.  It's confusing but you don't want a baby to score too high here.  90% means he is getting way too big and may have to come out sooner than later.  

But, as I mentioned before, we both are doing very well.  Aside from trying to maintain a healthy diet and exercise plan, it's been relatively low key.  Well, unless you count that overnight hospital stay I had last week, the result of a minor (and I mean minor) fender bender.  No fenders were even bent.  But, with everyone around me worried about me and The Kid, a simple call to the OB, just to quench their worries, landed me in the hospital.  High risk + minor car accident send you to the hospital for observation.  Contractions and The Kid's heart rate dipping into low territory keep you overnight.  Luckily, we passed the remainder of the tests and were sent home the following day.

We still have several things to do and buy before he gets here.  The baby shower is in about 2 weeks so we'll hold off until then to purchase what we need and didn't get.  In the meantime, the things that we have received are being assembled, clothes are being washed and things are being hung in the nursery.  Oh, and classes.  The classes have started because, let's face it, we have no idea what we're doing.  

Have I ever mentioned that I still cannot believe that we are having a baby?  I'm still in shock over here.

23 Weeks

It's only week 23 and I still can't believe that I'm having a baby.  The fear, the anxiety, the joy and the pain I feel in my heart, all at once, is constant.  I'm having a baby.  A baby boy.  I have been saying that out loud, whether to myself or the BNC, and it is still something of a surprise.

We still have a ways to go but we're slowly getting there.

Great Expectations

  

Yup, good old Margie went and got herself knocked up and on purpose too! Today marks the 14th week and, so far, so good.  Both the BNC and I are very happy and scared and excited and just happy.  It was a very planned pregnancy and surprisingly, we conceived a few months after officially trying. 

It hasn't been without its worries.  I'm 35 years old and diabetic so I'm a high risk pregnancy already.  But, my A1c is sitting beautifully at 5.9 which, according to my endo, means that I may not have to take insulin at any point during the pregnancy.  It's quite the surprise since pregnant diabetics most likely will have to at one point.  My diet is even more strict though.  No aspartame, no diet drinks or foods, no caffeine, no yummy bologna or hot dogs or soft cheeses.   Ouch.  But, it's for the greater good.  I've been a walking fool as well.  With all these restrictions though, I've managed to lose 11 pounds and yet The Astronaut, as we've dubbed him/her, is growing and looking good.  

Given all this, I've never felt dumber in my entire life than I do right now mostly because I haven't really experienced any pregnancy symptoms such as morning sickness.  It gets me worried that I haven't but, my doctor says it's ok.  Everything going on with me is normal, and that eases my worries.  Thank goodness for books and understanding doctors.  

So, here I am.  All knocked up and scared to death.  It's going to be a good trip.

Ice Cream Treats

It's Product Review Friday! 

Let's start with Blue Bunny's Sweet Freedom No Sugar Added cones in snack size.  Right off the bat,  you will notice how tiny they are.  They were roughly the size of the BNC's thumb.  Despite that, it was the perfect little size that satisfied the craving for a sweet treat.  It didn't taste like a diet snack and it wasn't overly sweet either.  It even comes with a Choose-Your-Own-Adventure.  You can either throw your head back and slide the loose peanuts from the bag into your hungry mouth or you can pick up the peanuts with the top of your already bitten off cone and then take a bite out of it. 

The final verdict:  Put it in the cart .

Next up, Skinny Cow Cookies 'n Cream Truffle bars.  The bar itself was more than plenty to satisfy that craving.  The taste, while not completely coming off as cookies 'n cream, was subtle and creamy.  I did get a bit of a toothache from the cold but I chalk that up to not having enough tooth real estate and thus dipping into gum territory.  Go figure. 

The final verdict:  Put it in the cart but perhaps in other flavors.

 

Lastly, Skinny Cow Ice Cream Cone.  The taste of these was a bit overwhelming.  It was so rich and slightly overpowering on the tongue.  However, if you keep at it you'll learn to appreciate the decadent fudge on soft chocolate ice cream.  Drink a glass of water, you'll be okay.  My only other non-issue was how hard it was to get the wrapper off the cone.  I kept thinking my Hulk Strength was going to crush the cone and I would be left without the joy of an ice cream cone. 

The final verdict:  Put it in the cart.  Put 2 in the cart.

 

The BNC and I are having a good time trying out various treats that are easy on me.  We're preferential to the snack size Blue Bunny cones because it's a perfect little snack.  You run such a high risk of overdoing it with a half gallon of ice cream and trying to figure how many scoops you should get and how generous those precious scoops should be.  The portion control of the above ice cream treats appeals to us a great deal and, as long Blue Bunny and Skinny Cow keep churning them out, then I'll keep trying them out.

Let Us

The BNC, without having to, partakes in my sugar-free diet.  He eats, and drinks, reduced sugar, low fat, high fiber, whole grain, zero calorie, low sodium stuff with me.  It's one of the many reasons I love him.  His support means the world and makes what I have to do so much easier.  And while I don't enjoy all the good stuff I'm supposed to eat, I don't stop him from enjoying what he likes. 

So, on Sunday (and Monday) we I made lettuce wraps.  I used my new purple Slap Chop on some onions and tomatoes and cooked them down alongside some ground chuck. 

The mixture was seasoned with salt, pepper, red pepper flakes and some tomato paste.

As a side dish, I made rice with orzo.  (Is that rice pilaf?)  Whichever, it was yums and both the rice and orzo were perfectly cooked. 

I toasted and cooked them together and out it came; perfect.

I didn't eat any lettuce but, from the looks and sounds of it, they looked and tasted awesome.

It's certainly a dish that will be put into heavy rotation especially with summer looming and the desire to crank up that oven grows less and less.

ps....excuse the shadows, the weird lighting and the less than stellar photos.  I'm still trying to find my angles as well as work the laptop I recently received.  Thank you, come again.

Smashburger

What can I say?  The burger is still amazing.  The fries, known as Smashfries that have rosemary and sea salt seasoning, were a little eh, but it's really all about the burger.  Isn't it always about the burger?  Though I recently went, without the BNC, the burger has remained the same; succulent, juicy, orgasmicy, and overall yummy. 



Troop loves it.  It's a small price to pay for me having lost his gun. 

Papa Geno's

Papa Geno's was chosen for dinner last night after having to run some unexpected errands that would have left me making our dinner too late.  It was a good choice. 

Papa Geno's is a philly cheesesteak joint that is supposed to be a Philadelphia transplant.  I say supposed because I don't know if they are or aren't.  All I know is that in Philly they use Cheez Whiz on their cheesesteaks and this place is doing it.  I'm not down with that kind of cheese.  Let me make a side note comment for a moment.  My momma didn't really feed us junk food.  I guess you could say that she was way ahead of the curve.  For example, as a 34-year old, I have never had a Happy Meal.  My mom doesn't like it when people feed their kids nothing but sugar or fatty stuff.  Sure, we went to Pizza Hut a lot but I guess we went to a) feed our Italian ancestry and b) my mom doesn't know how to make pizzas.  She always preferred to make our meals no matter how long it took.  Cheez Whiz was one of those items she didn't feed us.  So, rather than get the original Papa Geno's cheesesteak, I got a regular one with white melty cheese (the name escapes me right now).   Dudes, it was good.  The meat was wonderfully cooked and the cheese was awesomely melted and clinging to the meat and bread for dear life.  I didn't go, "ZOMG, this is SOOO good!" when I bit into it because it was just good.  It was good use of bread, meat and cheese and it came together great but it was nothing spectacular.  However, I would go again.  Maybe even try the other items on the menu.  The BNC on the other hand, whose childhood meals consisted of coming out of a box, and with a toy, tried the original with the Cheez Whiz.  He liked it. 

I know I should be taking photos of the food but oy, I don't want to be that person, sitting at the table, whipping out her camera, etc.  I'm sure they wouldn't mind but, what if they do?  Sometimes I can pull it off but then I am forced to share a crappy photo of something I can't even make out. 

In closing, Ralph Macchio is going to be on Dancing with the Stars.  This may finally be the reason I need to watch it. 

Texas Cafeteria

Texas Cafeteria has been around for quite some time.  It's located across the street from the Fiesta, a regional grocery store, that my family frequented many, many times so naturally, I saw this place a lot.  (Fiesta features many latin foods hence the visits.)  My curiosity has always been piqued but finally, after decades, we went in to check it off The List and, unfortunately, I was disappointed.  The food was pretty standard though filling but it was nothing fancy.  Then again, we had the basic eggs, bacon, hashbrowns and pancakes deal.  It's pretty hard to fuck that up but, at the same time, I want omg yums and alas, dudes, it was just ok.  I still prefer my House of Pies usual of eggs, bacon, bagel and waffle. 

One of the problems I had with Texas Cafeteria was the way things were being run.  You order your food at the counter, because breakfast isn't served caferteria style, and you receive your ticket stub.  After your meal is prepared, they yell out your number and bring it to you.  Any extras you want, syrup, ketchup, Splenda, you must get on your own.  After you are done, you go back to the counter, swerving in and around tables, to pay.  It's an archaic and offputting method and I don't like it.  Let me pay as I order or have a station near the exit door so I can pay there.  The yelling is offputting as well.  But, having numerous photos of wildlife, such as bears, fish, deer and pigs, is more offensive than the gruff man yelling out ticket stub numbers because he thinks the waitress isn't loud enough.  Yes,  you read that right.  DEAD ANIMALS.  NEXT TO MY BOOTH.  I'm no vegetarian and I'm all for killing animals for food, etc. (cause I'm a Mexican) but holy shit, I don't want to eat some hashbrowns with a photo of a dead bear at my table. 

I may go back to try the lunch items but that is about it.  Disappointing but at least we finally figured out the mystery of Texas Cafeteria. 

Then yesterday, I went to the park and flew my Spider-Man kite.  Just like old times.

I also learned how to catch but not before I took one in the arm.  Holla!

The List

Being on vacation is the perfect time to shop and eat out while the rest of the world works.  Thank goodness for us, we have The List. 

One of the places we tried was Gatlin's BBQ.  I had previously read many great reviews from the Houston Press and was excited about finding a great BBQ place after my original go-to place started to dwindle in quality.  Dudes, Gatlin's was amazing.  We tried the juicy and smokey brisket, the yummy pulled pork and while the homemade sausage wasn't my favorite (purely a textural issue) it was still an amazing feat.  The BNC was impressed by all of our meats.  Our sides included the dirty rice, which was spicy and filling and could have been a meal all on its own while the macaroni and cheese was nothing spectacular with its overcooked macaroni noodle.  The potato salad, enjoyed by the BNC so according to him, was ok.  Overall, it's a winner and we look forward to sampling the much raved about ribs, the rest of the meats and, most importantly, the sandwiches.  Mmmm, mmmm!

When I was making The List, I left some open slots in case we managed to stumble upon a place that was worthy of including to The List.  I'm glad I did because we found Jonathan's The Rub.  After working hard in our friend's yard, as mentioned in my previous post, it was an absolutely amazing reward.  Sure, it was too much and it was quite a heavy meal for it being lunch but it was everything you shouldn't be eating every day.  Just look at it.

Chicken fried chicken with Jonathan's fries topped with bacon-infused gravy and a side of mashed potatoes.  The chicken was crunchy on the outside and juicy on the inside as it should be.  The fries?  Yum.  The gravy?  Yums!  Mashed potatoes?  Whoa, very rich and heavy but good nevertheless.  I completely  intend on going back to Jonathan's but this time I am splitting the entree with the BNC.  I caught sight of other entrees leaving the chef's station and the portions were huge.  Personally, I can't see myself eating all of that food.  I'll gladly split it though.  Despite the big portions, Jonathan's The Rub still serves good food.  I'm looking forward to trying out other items on the menu and perhaps, making it a frequent haunt.