Pea Soup Is Not Sexy. Or Interesting.

by Trisha-and-Amy on January 15, 2012

Day 13 of this cleanse, and I feel robotic. I’ve had this sort of malaise for a few days now…and I’m realizing how much of our lives is built around food as a celebration. Food as family glue. We almost always go to lunch on Saturday or Sunday, all four of us sitting around the table reading, Paul and I sipping a crisp glass of wine, splitting a yummy cheeseburger and fries. Or going to the movies, and splitting a huge tub of buttered popcorn (half way and on top) and chocolate covered raisins. Or at 6 p.m. on a random Tuesday night, sipping a glass of wine at our kitchen counter and talking about our respective days.

It feels foreign to me to eat to live — not the other way around. It feels like a job. I truly don’t ‘crave’ anything at the moment (ok, well maybe I kind of sort of crave a huge buttery baked potato with melted cheddar and extra sour cream, but that’s not the point). What I crave and horribly miss is the coming together of family and friends over food and drink.

It’s just not the same when I’m crunching on brown rice crackers and eating split pea soup by myself at the kitchen table. It’s just plain sad.


1. You really burn a LOT of calories circling the alcohol cabinet

2. That pasty “oh god I’m about to chew my arm off” look is really hot right now on the Versace runway

3. The three Tic Tacs that you accidentally popped in your mouth taste better than sex

4. Your house is really, really, really clean

5. That circling the alcohol cabinet one, again

6. Your legs are shaven (what the hell else is there to do)?

7. You save a lot of cash by not eating out. (Paul: “I cannot FATHOM the idea of watching someone at the table next to me drink wine. A#%holes.”)

8. In connection to #7, you really brush up on your celebrity news.

9. Your kids really brush up on their celebrity news.

10. You have a new appreciation for the poor souls who lived through prohibition. That would’ve sucked.

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Ok, Gwynnie, You Might Be On to Something

by Trisha-and-Amy on January 5, 2012

Day 3, Clean Program:

Ok, yesterday I was feeling like a bad flu was coming on. I was freezing cold. I was bitchy and irritable. I pretty much greatly disliked my entire family. (Except Bella the new puppy — thanks to her, everyone else is alive.) I truly felt like a lead brick, and I barely got myself from point A to point B. I had a headache and my joints ached. The whole day I was questioning why in the world I was attempting this experiment, especially if I was feeling so horrible. I mean, no one can actually SEE my liver, right? Can’t I just stuff a salad in my mouth and call it a day?

So I wake up with some dread this morning, bracing myself for another abysmal day. The morning was a bit groggy. Made my protein shake which sadly has now become a highlight of my day because it’s a faux dose of ‘sweet.’ Thought about what else I’d get to ingest — salad with chicken for lunch, lamb and brown rice for dinner. But…by the time I walked my kids to school, I felt an insane surge of energy. I felt clear headed and light and just…GOOD. So I headed to a light workout, and now it’s dinnertime and I’m happy to report I feel better than I have in a long time.

I am blown away at how our bodies react so quickly and wildly by simply eliminating certain things (sugar, alcohol, dairy, wheat). Eating how humans were designed to eat — grains, fruits, vegetables, nuts, lean protein — isn’t as tough as I thought. It’s mainly the repetition that seems a bit boring.

18 days to go.


Two Cranky Mamas

by Trisha-and-Amy on January 4, 2012

Trisha here…

This is tough, I have no energy. Am I the only one? It started with the lack of coffee this morning replaced by that Yerba Tea that made it possible to have a very empty stomach. I’m starting with just the elimination portion of the cleanse. Basically eliminating everything I love; toast, greek yogurt, french fries and donuts. But the hardest part for me is the sugar. This is really good for me, as it truly makes me realize how many times I reach in the cupboard for my ‘fix’. No handfuls of chocolate chips for me today.
I am sure my body will adjust, but for me no sugar means a cranky mama!
Tomorrow is a new day!

Amy here…

Trisha, stick with it mama! I know how sugar is your go-to every day. This is hard, but you can do it.

Ok, so I posted an apparently “violating” comment last night on Facebook so I promptly deleted it. Trisha, it’s in line with how your Yerba Tea emptied your stomach. I am amazed at how putting a tiny amount of flaxseed in my morning shake does the same thing. Part of this whole process is really to clean your system out — of all the junk we put into it on a daily basis. So I wasn’t trying to be obnoxiously gross, just reporting back! Sheesh!

Another thing that’s weird is what seems like a lack of eating choices. This is how humans were meant to eat — grains, vegetables, whole fruits. And right now we can have chicken and fish! Not sure what the problem is, but I’m feeling like I don’t even have any taste buds. Nothing sounds appealing. I made my friend Shauna and I a salad for lunch yesterday and it tasted like cardboard.

And I’m with you sister. I am soooo grumpy. I cannot believe how dependent I must have been on sugar, wheat and dairy. I worked out yesterday and I feel kind of flu-like right about now. I remember from the last cleanse years ago that this is totally normal — and if we can get through the next few days, we’ll start to feel normal…and then awesome. I think I remember feeling awesome, eventually? I’ll take ‘good’ right about now!


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The Last Supper

by Trisha-and-Amy on January 2, 2012

Trisha here…

Yes, it was my idea. Thought we would have a new ‘awakening’ with the start of the New Year. I have been thinking about this cleanse for months now. Dreaming of how wonderful we will feel after detoxing the poison from our bodies. We will feel lean, light and have a new found creative energy ………but now….it starts tomorrow. I find myself dreading the end of the holidays. Gone goes the days of feeding every need. Gone goes the toffee, the donuts and here comes the dreaded detox from wine.
The last couple of days I have been obsessed with making sure I consume and enjoy ‘the last’ of everything. Today was the ‘last’ burger from my favorite local burger joint, along with the last french fry and last milk shake. I just finished my last chocolate cookie with peppermint frosting. Drank my last glass of wine (but now drinking ‘my last’ beer) Boy this could go on all night.

Tomorrow starts a new day with a kale, almond milk and protein shake. At least the word “shake’ is still in our vocabulary.
We hope you have found the strength to join our mission to ‘clean it up’.
We need all the support we can get!

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Clean Shmean

by Trisha-and-Amy on December 31, 2011

Ok, so Trisha has forced me into doing this “Clean” thing starting on Monday for a month. I guess it’s essentially a program where you eliminate the junk from your diet (like Twix, burgers and fries, and whoopie pies) and then you start ‘cleansing’ your body with vegetable shakes, vitamins, etc.

Here’s a picture of the book — a few of my friends have literally changed their lives by jumpstarting a healthier point of view. (NYT best-seller “Clean” by Alejandro Junger, M.D.) And I did a cleanse with my best friend Shelley years ago, and it really did make me start thinking differently about what I put in my mouth, and how I feed my kids.

But I cannot tell you how NOT into this I am at the moment. I mean, I’ve got real momentum right now with Chardonnay, potato skins, slow cooked short ribs and homemade fudge. And I do know that I really really should embrace this whole deal. I’ve made a pact, and I’m going to follow through. UGH.

I’m going to read this book today and head to Whole Foods to go get — oh I don’t know, probably quinoa (tastes like that white paste we used to use in elementary school), barley and some other stuff that sounds about as good as nails screeching on a chalk board.

Now that I’ve made it sound so appealing. Who’s with me??

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The Guilt of Popping Sleeping Pills Keeps Us Up At Night

by Trisha-and-Amy on November 7, 2011

So in today’s New York Times, there was an interesting article about the increasing number of moms taking sleep aids to get to sleep. Whether it’s Tylenol PM, Ambien (the #1 prescribed sleep med for moms), Xanax or Melatonin, it’s another one of our ‘dirty little secrets.’

And increasingly, it’s not brand new moms who are popping pills — it’s moms with school-aged kids who, in their quest to do everything and everything perfectly, have to do lists that stick to them like glue and literally keep them up at night.

Trish was in my kitchen this morning and in discussing the article, we both confessed to using some sort of sleep aid with increasing frequency, and talked about how guilty we feel about it. It’s just that…the fear of NOT sleeping is so real and tangible and unexpected at this stage in our lives. We never expected that, with our youngest child being 8 years old, we’d STILL be faced with a lack of sleep. We both suffer from the same affliction: Drift to sleep just fine, and then, at precisely 4 a.m., our eyes POP open and that’s it. There’s no going back. Many times I’ll just get up and start my day — and power through, with an even greater fear of sleep the next night.

So what to do? We know, meditation or something, right?



The Awful Part No One Talks About

by Trisha-and-Amy on October 1, 2011

He was our first baby. The baby who we cut our teeth on, preparing us for the two babies to come. He made Marley look like an angel. I remember crying for three straight months, afraid of what I’d come home to after work. A half-eaten wall, an ingested blue ball-point pen, dripping down from his stained tongue, down the front of his white fur, down to his huge puppy paws. The stick of butter on the counter that was gone in 2 seconds flat when I turned my back. Dragging me down, again, on the sidewalk as I teetered on my heels, walking him before work, pantyhose ripped, blood dripping down my knee. My eyes welling up as Paul looked at me in horror. Damn dog. Crazy puppy.

Having a puppy, then adolescent lab (or any dog) is hard. At least Jackson was – he was that one puppy in the litter that looked you in the eye, straight, with a smirk, and grabbed the hose in the garage and dragged it around, even though he was only 10 weeks old. “He’s the smart one,” the breeder said. “A little more work, but you won’t regret it.” Hmmmm. That was such a huge clue. But we were in our 20′s, and smart sounded good to us. I remembered Paul giving him his first bath in our little sink in SF. He was shaking and scared and looked so innocent. This wasn’t going to be so hard. How could it be?

“Don’t worry, he’ll calm down when he’s 2,” fellow dog owners would say at the park. And then, when he was two, “Oh don’t worry, when he’s four, he’ll be really mellow.” Not so. Although he was impossible to train, and 85 pounds, he was becoming part of our family, and we were all adapting. It wasn’t until he was about 6 years old that he started to take some deep breaths and sit still for awhile. Still, that was after a long swim in the ocean, beneath the Golden Gate bridge, where we’d chuck a half-empty water bottle as far as we could, and he’d swim way out to retrieve it, about 20 times in a row. His nirvana.

Then, after a year of trying, I finally got pregnant. Or so I thought. As fast as I saw two lines on that stick, it faded back to one, in a matter of days. I did not leave our sofa for three straight days. And neither did Jackson. Paul had to pull him off the couch to go pee, and then he’d hop right back up, snuggled into my stomach.

Then finally, bringing home our first baby Sam, Jackson took on a more mature role, as protector. Even the UPS guy was fearful of putting an Amazon package on the doorstep.

Paul, who traveled around the globe at that time, would come home, drop his bags and dive into Jackson on the floor for full-body hugs. We’d finally clear our throats – “Helloooo, we’ve been here too, for about a week. Paul?” They were best friends. And Jackson somehow knew before we did when Paul was about to pull up — he’d pace the hallway and start whimpering.

We knew Jack was slowing down after he turned 12 — his back legs started moving a little slower up and down the stairs, and he started having a harder time getting up off the hard wood floors. Nothing atypical – and his bloodwork and hip x-rays all looked stellar. His father Cassidy lived till 15 or 16, so we were confident that we had lots of time.

Until we didn’t. The speed at which Jack declined was stunning to us — and all along we thought that this new phase would last awhile. That we’d just ‘know’ when he was this terribly old guy who, at his own will, would just silently fade away. The most gut wrenching thing (well the first gut wrenching thing) for us was having to make that decision for him — to decide that he just wasn’t living the kind of life a lab would want. How is that possible? Some days he seemed to get up on his own. But more and more, we were lifting him up and carrying him outside, and back in. Our first baby was telling us, “it’s time.”

We said goodbye to Jackson in our home, on a beautiful sunny day. We took so many pictures and videos in that last five days, when we knew. One of my greatest memories will always be watching Paul give Jack his last bath, outside on the deck, so tenderly, as tears fell from his face. He wanted his boy to be clean, and Jack seemed thankful.

And then, the startling silence. The unending silence. It’s been 4 weeks today, and the house still seems eerie. I walked down the stairs yesterday in flip flops and when I arrived in the kitchen, Emily looked at me and burst into tears. I sounded like Jackson’s paws, and for a second she thought he was right there.

It’s amazing how tough it is to talk to people about this part. The part that tears your guts from your body. He was so much more than a dog, than a pet. He was our first baby. Some people really get it and I am truly grateful.

Thanks for everything, Jax. Love you always.



by Trisha-and-Amy on September 12, 2011

Amy here.

I think Spongebob is funny. Like really funny. So there was some study with a bunch of 4-year olds that found that, after watching Spongebob, their attention spans weren’t great. I think it’s pertinent to mention that they also made these poor kids watch Caillou, in comparison. I guess the third group of pre-schoolers drew with crayons, and they compared all the groups afterwards. A couple of points here:

1) Maybe your 4-year old shouldn’t necessarily be watching Spongebob. He’s hilarious — and my 7 and 8 year-old and I watch him and laugh our heads off. But they’re not FOUR. And his snarky humor probably is wasted on those poor Pre-K kids.

2) Shame on those adults for making those kids sit through Caillou. Have you ever watched that awful excuse for a kids show? Do you not want to just smack Caillou after 10 seconds? He is so whiny, and immature, and just…well…smackable. That’s just torture, and so not fair.

3) More kids should be encouraged to draw with crayons. I’m just saying.

For me, the moral of the story is that Spongebob is kind of genius. Just keep the tiny tots away from him for a few years. And keep them away from Caillou for like, ever.


Tennis Anyone?

by Trisha-and-Amy on August 24, 2011

Trisha here…

Eric and I just just had our 18 year anniversary. Makes me feel incredibly old, but we did get married young I suppose.

Every year we try to escape in some way. We’ve taken weekends away to New York City, or an escape to Napa. On some anniversaries it’s dinner in the city, or last year we took the kids to our favorite place we loved to go to years before we got married. Pretty traditional.

But this year we decided we needed to mix it up a bit. Maybe it’s because we are now in our ’40′s’, but we decided that we needed to start a new sport together. We made a day date for our anniversary and headed to the tennis shop to get head to toe outfitted. We actually entered the store wearing our jeans and t-shirts and left in the full tennis apparel! We were cracking ourselves up. Neither of us had played tennis for at least 15 years.

We hopped on our bikes and headed to the tennis courts. My last memory of playing tennis with my husband wasn’t a good one. He had spiked a ball so hard in my direction and it slammed right into my boob. I cried and we never played together again. But this anniversary was different. We somehow rallied, and laughed and really had a blast.

This was such a good reminder to us, that it’s never too late to reinvent your marriage or just find new ways to connect.