Super Shrimp & Asparagus

One of my new favorite things to do is to take a not-so-healthy recipe, tweak it, and make it work for my diet and nutritional needs.  Tonight’s efforts were a huge success and I have to share!

I took two recipes from Pinterest and got rid of the butter and fat.  As a result . . .

SHRIMP & ASPARAGUS!

I didn’t take a picture of my finished product because once I tried it, I ate it immediately, but this is close enough.

First, oil a baking pan with a drizzle of 100% olive oil. (Remember, I am a “Pinch” cook, I don’t measure anything.) You want just enough to coat the baking pan.

Next, prepare your fresh asparagus by washing and cutting off the woody ends. I left the pieces otherwise whole. Lay these side-by-side in a single layer on one-half of the pan.

On the other side of the pan, place your shrimp. I refuse to clean and devein the things, so I used Royal Tiger frozen shrimp, already prepared and tails removed. I thawed it prior to preparation.

Next, I lightly coated the tops of both the asparagus and the shrimp with olive oil. Using just a dab on a brush does the trick nicely without overdoing it.

Follow the oil with a light sprinkling of lemon juice. Just a few drops here and there, enough to taste.

Next, season your meal. I used only sea salt and pepper and this was perfect.

Finally, a sprinkle of Parmesan cheese. This is optional, but I highly recommend it!

Prep is done and takes only a few minutes. Bake at 350 degrees for about 15 minutes.

The results? Tender, yet crisp asparagus and perfectly done shrimp. The two complement each other beautifully.  And the best part . . .

Calories: 425 calories

Fat: 18 grams

Carbs: 10 grams

Protein: 59 grams

(For 9 ounces of shrimp and 2 cups of asparagus – it was quite filling)

Delicious!

Stir-Fry Steak Lettuce Wraps

Many people have been asking for the ultra-healthy recipes I have been using as of late, so I thought it would be a good idea to start collecting the exceptional ones here, not only so I can share the wealth, but also so I can keep track of them myself. I am learning to love lettuce wraps and tonight’s were yummy!

One word of caution: I am a “Pinch” cook: a “pinch” of this, a “pinch” of that, and I never measure. What follows is a rough draft, the ingredients I used, and what I hope will provide a jumping-off point for others to recreate these to meet their tastes.

So without further ado . . .

Stir-Fry Steak Lettuce Wraps

1 pound VERY lean steak strips (I used Beef Bottom Round Strips, only 4.5 grams of fat)

Olive oil

1 red onion, cut into strips

6 large Romaine lettuce leaves

Reduced-fat blue cheese crumbles (optional)

Fat-free shredded mozzarella cheese

Taco Sauce (I used Taco Bell® Mild Taco Sauce)

Extra-tenderizing Worcestershire sauce

1. Begin by sautéing the steak strips in olive oil over medium to medium-high heat. Add a bit of extra-tenderizing Worcestershire sauce to season and tenderize the steak.

                    

 

2. While the steak is cooking, prepare your Romaine lettuce leaves on a plate.

                              

 

3. Next, prepare the sauce. I am in love with reduced-fat blue cheese to add tons of flavor, but those are optional. You could also use low-fat sour cream with the taco sauce and just a bit of the Worcestershire sauce.  You don’t need much, just enough to drizzle over each wrap. As you can see here, I have made about ½ cup of sauce.

                              

 

4. Return to your steak strips and add the red onion.

                                

 

5. Once the steak is cooked to your liking (I used medium-rare), add 2 to 3 strips with onions to each lettuce leaf.

               

6. Next, drizzle your sauce on top of your steak.

                              

 

7. Top with fat-free shredded mozzarella cheese.

                                          

 

8. Voila!  Enjoy!  Very low in calories, fat, and carbs while lots of protein and taste!

                                   

Approximate Nutrition Values

Calories: 369

Fat: 10 grams

Carbs: 13 grams

Protein: 45 grams

Respect

I often tell my pre-kindergarten students that if I teach them nothing else during their time in my classroom, they will learn to be kind to one another.  Yes, watching them read and write their first word brings tears to my eyes.  Hearing them recall what we have learned about fractions and states of matter gives me an immeasurable sense of pride, and tomorrow, when we celebrate the 100^th day of school by counting all the way to 100 for the first time, I will get chills just as I did with last year’s class.

But today my heart was filled with a job well done, and it reminded me of my blog from yesterday.

Part of the agenda for our Social Science lesson today was to review what children recall thus far from our manners curriculum.  I asked the very vague, open-ended question, “what do we remember as being important from this book about our manners?”  The first answer, a single word, came out of two mouths simultaneously . . .

Respect.

The room became silent as the rest of the class also realized that this was the end-all, be-all of answers, the one word that encompassed all the ideas they were about to offer.  They all get it.

I was silent for a moment as well.  No, this is not even close to the biggest, most mature word I have heard them use, but it could possibly be the most important.  I tested the waters (and my luck) by asking for a definition of the word and examples of the concept.

I got what I asked for . . . .

“Be kind to others.”

“Listen to your friends’ words.”

“Don’t be a bully.”

“Be a bucket-filler, not a bucket-dipper.”  (See the ingenious book, Have You Filled a Bucket Today? by Carol McCloud; I am currently working my way through the adult version.)

“Be good to yourself.”

“Use your own words.”

“Listen to your teachers.”

“Teamwork.”

“Get along with each other.”

“Love each other.”

These few short phrases from a group of four-year-olds made me realize they could have defined not only “respect,” but the word “tolerance” as well, far better than I attempted to do in yesterday’s write.  At the very heart of tolerance is respect. Respect for others, respect for yourself, respect for the relationships and bonds between us all.  Not a single child mentioned politics, religious beliefs, or personal opinion, yet each theorized that we should listen to one another, work together as one, stand up for ourselves, and be kind to one another.  That simple.

No academic assessment is needed to tell me that yes indeed, these kids get it.

Tolerance (or, "Sweet Baby Jesus, I Blogged!")

It’s been too long since I have made use of my blog. Not that I expect anyone to care or even to read this, but putting my thoughts in words, in front of my own eyes, has always provided clarification for me, made my thoughts more sensible and clear in my own eyes. I express myself best this way, out of the often-muddledness that can be my head. And yes, indeed, I make up my own words too: “muddledness.” I like it, and it fits.

Something has been on my mind the past few days.  The word “tolerance” and what it means to me.  It can be a confusing word, and as positive as I hold it to be, I can understand how some could attach negative connotations to what it is and means.

What does “tolerance” mean to you?

I can’t pretend to know what it means to you or to anyone else, but I can define very clearly what it means to me. “Tolerance,” simply put, means live and let live. It means I don’t know what it is to walk in your shoes, so I will leave you to the task of making it work the best way you see fit.

“Tolerance” means believing that we were not put on this Earth under the intention to all be one and the same, all cut from the same pattern; rather we are all unique, all made exactly as we were intended to be, and I am not the person who should judge who you are.

“Tolerance” means morality is something personal and unique to all of us and while mine is held closely to my heart, I cannot expect it to mean the same to you, just as yours may not mean the same to me.

“Tolerance” is remembering I do not hold the only key to how life should be lived, only how mine should be lived. 

“Tolerance” is having love in my heart for all who seek to live their life to the fullest, live to their fullest potential, who struggle and strive to live as who they are, where they are, the best that they possibly can.

“Tolerance” does not mean I have to agree with your every opinion, only that I have to respect it as yours.

“Tolerance” does not mean I overlook your faults, only that I do not judge lest you judge me for mine. 

“Tolerance” does not mean I am without my own moral code, only that I cannot even begin to pretend to know yours, and leaving you to your own values does not mean mine somehow get lost.

I think it is too easy to forget that not everyone walks the same path I travel each day. The choices I make in my life are the direct result of that path, a true relationship of cause-and-effect.  How can I know the path you travel? How can I know what hidden causes led to your effects that I do plainly see?  It is true that we often choose friends and relationships based on similar beliefs, opinions, moralities, etc., as those are the people with whom we have the most in common, but that does not mean I don’t see there is a flipside to every coin, and heads or tails, every coin still has a value all its own.

I guess it all comes back to this: “do not judge, lest I be judged.”

This is “tolerance” to me.  This is why I hold this word dear to my heart.  I don’t have to believe that your way is my way; only that your way is right for you.

Yes, you did hit a mailbox, but you also took out a HOUSE!

Remember, the accused are innocent until proven guilty in a court of law, even when they would pretty much admit to it if they could just quite remember what happened . . . .

Yes, my dear, you hit a house, two houses down from where you were later found, and you left a hell of a mess to be cleaned up, as well as my disabled mother and dogs trapped inside while I was stuck on the interstate an hour away.  The side view is what I first saw as I came around the corner to my driveway.

At least we once again have access to the front door.


Many thanks to the Daily News Express for their article.  Until we happened across this entertaining little paper at the gas station Friday morning, I had never laid eyes on this woman in my life.  Too bad I ever had to at all.

And many thanks to the Rockwood Police Department, the Rockwood Fire Department, and the Rockwood Utility Board, all of whom responded to my sister's frantic 9-1-1 calls from 40 miles away and who acted promptly to bring the situation under control and the suspect under arrest.  Thank you to my non-DUI neighbors who came forward with witness accounts and who offered their help and services, including picking up the police report for me because I had to be back to work on Friday.  Thank you to my wonderful employers who asked no questions when I needed the day off after this to get our affairs in order with the insurance company.  And a special thanks to Police Sergeant Jason Halliburton who is not only a friend and the arresting officer, but who also took time out the following day to check on us, and who also came to our rescue by securing help in getting the offending porch off of the house when no one else wanted to touch it.  You all made a chaotic mess so much easier than it could have been.

Let this be a reminder as to what drugs of all kinds can do to a human brain.  And to your neighbor's house.

Told Ya So

It wasn't but a few days ago that I told  my mother for the billionth time that I am pretty much done with being a home owner.  I am tired of the responsibility.  I have plenty of other things to keep my mind occupied and I would like my place of residence to be one less thing.  There is always something: the air conditioning unit needs work, the eaves need to be cleaned and in some places replaced, the back deck needs to be finished and restored, blah, blah, blah. 

Well, the point I have been trying to make was given its very own exclamation mark yesterday evening.  I came home from an extra-long day at work to be greeted by this:

The front of our house was hit by a neighbor a few houses up. We don't know her, nor do we want to.  This all happened as my sister and I were preparing to leave Knoxville for the day, and in her state of shock, our mother called us first instead of the police.  So as I drove as far above the speed limit as unsignaling semis pulling in front of me would allow, my sister worked on calling 9-1-1 (no easy feat when you are in a different county than the one where the emergency is actually happening), and my mother, now stuck inside the house, is only guessing as to what happened as she heard the porch being ripped from the front of the house.  The only other exit from the house is out the patio doors and down some very steep steps off the pool deck that she has much difficulty maneuvering.  By the time we pulled in the driveway, the street was blocked off by the fire department and the police, they were waiting for our electric utility to come settle some wiring questions, and the police cars were parked in front of the house down the street.  The woman was arrested for DUI and I hope for leaving the scene of an accident, although I won't have the final police report until tomorrow.  Yes, the genius hit the house (which incidentally does NOT sit anywhere near the road off which she came flying), left the scene, drove two houses down, and she went home as if nothing happened.  Thankfully there were witnesses who tipped off the police.

I am grateful for many things.  My mother was outside on that porch approximately 3 minutes prior to this woman charging through our yard as she brought the dogs in from their walk.  The fact that she hit the house exactly at the porch's support beam saved us from the car actually coming through our living room.  I was not yet home, so my car was not parked in its usual spot in front of the house or she would have taken it out too.  The Rockwood Police and Fire Departments, as well as our electric utility board were kind, gracious, and helpful, and took immediate action in arresting the person responsible.  There were witnesses who came forward and made sure the right thing was done.  Our insurance company will be here tomorrow to assess the damage and hire someone to make the necessary repairs.  And I work for a FABULOUS boss who, when I called her in my time of stress to ask off work today, was concerned about me and my well-being, not my attendance at work, freeing me up to take care of the insurance company, the mortgage company, attorneys, and police reports, as well as a VERY frazzled mother and some stressed out and confused dogs (they don't quite understand why their routine of going outside via the front door has been altered). And I have a gazillion friends who took the time to text, call, and check on us and offer up help and support in anything that might be needed.  Yes, I have much for which to be thankful.

You just never know how your day will end up.  Count your lucky stars when the day ends without major mishap or disaster, even if you wish it could have gone just a little better.  It ALWAYS  could  have gone worse. 

Now I am off to take more pictures for the insurance company and find someone to remove the heap of trash that was once my front porch.   :)

To clarify ....

I have seen so many posts and comments made about President Obama neglecting to honor veterans and fallen soldiers this Memorial Day. In fact our President did honor the dead today back in his home state of Illinois. What could be more appropriate than that? Really, people think he neglected his duties because he chose to pay his respects outside of D.C.? Not all of our dead lie in rest at Arlington, folks. My grandfather fought in WWII and is resting peacefully in Ohio. I'm sure he is just as thankful for the gratitude shown today in Illinois as he would have been had it come from anywhere else. Happy Memorial Day to all, and I link so everyone knows I didn't make this up.





http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/37436443/ns/us_news-life/

A Word to the Wise

This week has been hard. Very hard.  So hard that Monday felt like an eternity and I was already not wanting but needing the weekend. Most of it has been work-related, but all the way around it has just been an exhausting, chaotic, never-ending week.  Today (and it's only Wednesday) was the final straw.  So yes, I am venting.  I don't care if anyone reads my blog, this is one of the few things I do in my life for my own benefit, so yes, I am about to vent, right here, right now.

Most of us with an ounce of common sense know that good teachers are a rarity.  Let me tell you why: because they are not appreciated, not by parents, not by ungrateful students, not by society as a whole.  Everyone will admit teaching is one of the most important professions one can enter into, yet as a general rule, teachers get paid next to nothing to shape, mold, and care for your most precious possession: your child.  Now I admit it, I have it good.  Unlike many, I am appreciated by my employer, and my students are too young to be jaded about school so as a general rule, they adore me and enjoy coming into my classroom everyday.  That is because I am a good teacher, and I know this.  I'm not the best, but I strive to be, which is what makes me good.  My kids learn something everyday, they have fun, they love me yet they respect me and my boundaries, and in almost 12 years of teaching in some capacity, I have maybe a handful of children and parents with whom I just couldn't get along and find some way to make that necessary bond that needs to exist between student, family, and teacher.  

I appreciate the many parents who show and speak their appreciation for the job I do.  Many recognize that I spend more waking hours with their children each day than they do.  Many tell me they see my influence on their child's life and they see how hard I work to do what I do each day.  Because of these parents, I am usually quite happy to get up and go to work each morning.  I put in my own time to ensure my classroom is fun, inviting, and challenging because I know the children will benefit and because I want to do a good job each day.

Then there are days like today when some parents make it quite clear that I am nothing more than the hired help.  They went out of their way to show me they consider their time to be valuable while mine is expendable.  Not only do they not show appreciation of what I do each day, but they act as if my extra effort and diligence is expected.  Guess what - it isn't.  I do things for your child that you will never understand, of which you will never be aware, and for which I don't get paid, except with the hugs and adoration that emanates from your child's eyes.  I am SOOOOOOO glad that has been enough for me, because if not, I would have told you all to go to hell and left this profession long ago.  My life could be easier emotionally and financially if I didn't find it so important to be a part of your child's life.  

So I have advice for all and everyone.  If you find a teacher that you know is a genuinely good teacher, a teacher who cares about your child and whom your child enjoys, do this: say thank you.  Tell that teacher he/she is important to you and that you see the great job that is being done.  Understand that every good teacher puts forth time and energy that you will never see, for which he/she will never get paid.  Understand that while your child's development and education are the rewards we seek at the end of the day, your one moment of ingratitude and general rudeness can wipe all that happened good that day.  Take serious the role teachers play in your child's life and show respect for the job that is being done.  When you aren't there to hold your child's hand, hug your child, give your child the encouragement needed to take that risk necessary to reach the next milestone, it is a teacher that is there doing the job for you.  Remember that and remember we aren't required to care. It is what a good teacher does and just like your child, you have the power to make or break that teacher's spirit in an instant.

Now I can breathe and sleep well knowing that as a good teacher,  I kicked ass today, and that as a parent, many of you sucked.    :)

The Power of Subtlety

Because I need to write, I need to put something out there, yet I am totally drawing a blank (too much traffic in the head leads to a jam), I am going to just say this:

If you didn't watch last night's season finale of Grey's Anatomy, you missed out on some of the best television to I have ever viewed.  Yes, the storyline (a crazed shooter in a hospital) was riveting and the acting was Emmy-worthy, but what caught my attention was the skilled filming.  So many times in this finale, it wasn't what you could see that keep you gripping your seat, but what you couldn't see, what was reflected in the horrified eyes of someone else.  There were moments when the events in question were happening just off-screen, just out of the viewer's reach, yet you could still sense it, you could hear it, and you knew it was coming as you stared helplessly into the eyes of another horrified character.  There were moments when no action at all took place, and the adrenaline rushed from the silence befell your waiting ears.  Anyone who knows about me and how I think knows how I feel about perspective and valuing what others see even if it is beyond your own experience.  The Grey's finale often depended on perspective: the perspective of the unknowing bystander, the perspective of the doctor hiding under the bed, the perspective of a helpless and pregnant wife watching from afar as a gun is pointed at her husband.  Maybe it was the reliance on perspective that made me feel this episode more than usual, although from the Facebook posts I saw last night and today, I am not the only one who enjoyed this gripping, spellbinding ride.

My advice: if you didn't catch this episode, find it online or look for it to be replayed in the fall prior to the new season opener.  You won't be sorry.

Thank you for allowing me this.  I will try for something a little deeper next time.

xo

I Feel Like I'm from Target, But . . .

As I work on a little project tonight, I find myself having very contradictory feelings about this week. For a few reasons, this is a week I have needed for a while. This is the first semi-laid back week we have had at work in a long while, and with Good Friday coming up, it is a short week as well. I feel like I am breathing this week at work for the first time in a few months.


Yet I am also dreading Thursday. You see, just shy of a year ago, I took over as lead teacher in the classroom that is now mine. I did so with much trepidation, anxiety, and stress, but I felt it was a move I needed to make for many reasons. And in my moment of transition and fear, I met someone who has become so much more than a coworker to me. The beautiful soul that would share a room with me and 18 children for 8 hours a day, day after day for a year would indeed become a near and dear friend.


Yes, Theresa has been my other half for a year. If I was having a bad day, I would count on her to sense as much and pick up my slack. If I needed to be away from the classroom for any reason, whether it be for an hour, a day, or a week, I could trust my kids were in capable hands who loved them and cared about their education and well being as much as I do. If I needed to talk, to vent, or just to share what was going on in my life, I knew I would have a pair of ears ready to listen, never judge. From the moment she hugged me when she found out I would be her new “roommate,” I knew this was someone special and I was lucky to know her. I just didn’t know how lucky.


Theresa is moving to Nashville this week, and these are my final days with her in the classroom. I trust our friendship will continue, and she will always be special to me, always, yet I am already dreading walking in the classroom and knowing I won’t see her smiling face. I am already missing our chats, her smirks as I make a sarcastic comment, our knowing smiles as we share an unspoken, inside joke about something no one else quite understands. I will miss spending 8 hours a day with one of the sweetest, most kind-hearted, fairest, greatest women I have ever known. I will miss spending my days with my friend, the one who made anything and everything bearable, the one who has always helped me find the laughter in any situation. The one who reminds me daily that “whining gets you nothing” and “it’s either laugh or cry.”


Theresa, just remember when I cry on Thursday, it is because I will always cherish the laughter you brought into my life. Thank you for all you have done for me and for our classroom. Thank you for being more than just a coworker. Thank you for being, well, for being you. I couldn’t have asked for anything more, and the shoes you have left will be impossible to fill.


So yes, folks, this will be a bittersweet week. I was looking forward to today, and it was a fabulous day, but I am not looking forward to the days ticking by too quickly as the day I will have to say goodbye nears. So bear with me. I will try to keep it in check on Thursday, but I am afraid the dam is already starting to burst.