Do you love pancakes? Do you also love eating healthish? Then this morning I made up a new recipe this morning I think you're going to love!
Also, usually when I make up pancake recipes, I add egg whites. Well, the egg whites in my refrigerator have expired and I don't ever take risks with expired foods (thanks to a very bad experience with expired ranch dressing when I was a little kid - thanks mom). So that's why there aren't eggs in this recipe. But honestly, it turned out great without them!
Single Oatmeal Pancake Recipe
Last week, a student raised his hand after my lightning safety presentation to his class and asked, "Do you get nervous being on TV?"
It was the beginning of the school year and our assignment in Mrs. Darras' English class was to introduce ourselves. I had a white 8x11 sheet of paper with my notes on it, and when my teacher called my named, I walked to the front of the classroom and started to speak.
As my voice quivered, so did my hands. That white paper shook so violently, I swear students in the classrooms across the hall could see it flying uncontrollably. I sat down at my desk extremely embarrassed and already dreading the next presentation.
Today, I can finish all 29 live shots every morning and feel only a few butterflies, if anything at all. But every now and then, my breath will escape me as my heart beats wildly. Yep, I'm still human.
A few years ago, I bought a magnet for the front of my refrigerator that says:
Courage does not always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, 'I will try again tomorrow." - Mary Anne Radmacher
My mind is in Texas this week. Last year at this time, I was wrapping up my final week working at NBC 5 in Dallas - Fort Worth. Was it really just a year ago?
When someone asks me, "How did you like Texas?" My honest answer is, "I loved it." After 365 days, here's what I miss the most about the Lone Star State.
I'm not fashionable. Really. If you make me put together an outfit that involves more than yoga pants or a dress, I will use all my brain power and still come up with nothing.
One day last year, I was over it. I was tired of feeling overwhelmed in my own closet. So I threw my clothes out. Ok, not all of them, but more than half. Gone. And boy did it help me get a grip on my style.
One memorable day as Miss Ohio, I was meeting with some of my advisers for breakfast before an appearance. I thought I looked awesome. I was wearing this new faux snake skin printed dress. Very fashion forward. Vogue would be calling me any moment. Ummm... that dress never saw the outside of the hotel. I was told I should change.
Talk about quickly developing a thick skin for constructive criticism on how I looked. Truth is, that advisor was right.
When you look good, you feel good. When you feel good, you do good." - Ami Boley
Three years ago during the Winter Olympics, NBC ran a story on Alex Bilodeau, a Canadian freestyle skier. From the beginning of the piece, Alex talks about his brother, Frédéric.
My brother, he’s my ground. His everyday life brings me to reality.” Alex Bilodeau
Ten thousand tear drops later, I finished the clip. And then replayed it. Again and again. For the first time, someone put into words what I had been trying to say for years. Alex shared that same source of motivation that fires me every single day.
That source? Our siblings.
Frédéric's spirit and happiness in life reminded me of my oldest sister, Christina.
Last year, my co-worker asked if I would be willing to share Christina's story with our viewers. Before we shot a frame of video, I sent her Alex and Frédéric's story. (If you haven't seen my sister's story, here's the link.)
Everyone goes towards Frédéric and says how Frédéric inspired them. The story inspired them way more than the performance of the medal.” - Alex Bilodeau
For those of us who grew up with siblings with disabilities, we are a direct result of their influence on us. At our most influential ages, our brothers and sisters wove life's most important lessons straight into our DNA.
I believe in the end everything we accomplish becomes a tribute to them. Our stories start with their story.
Nothing causes me more discomfort than having the following conversation.
Why do I hope a conversation like this never comes up between you and me? A: After six years, I'm still in denial that I'm a vegetarian. And B: If I think it's strange I don't eat meat, then I just assume you do too.
Plus, this conversation always happens at the worst time. Like when you've made dinner for me and then suddenly learn I'm only going to eat the bread and pickle off the sandwich.
In fact, I keep this fact about me so quiet that my uncle only realized this fall that I don't eat meat. Meanwhile, we've eaten dozens of meals together over the last six years.
Well, that was all I needed to hear. I pushed my kid's basket of shrimp to the middle of the table and was done with popcorn shrimp for the rest of my life.
Secondly, I blame my Grandma Rose (whom I love dearly).
Grandma Rose grew up on a farm and saw how the sausage was made. Literally. Growing up, I ate dinner at my grandparents house almost every Wednesday from first grade until I graduated high school. Every meal included a story from grandma about how that chicken/turkey/bacon/etc came to sit on our plates. Every bloody detail.
Do I wish I ate meat? Sure do. My goodness, I'm from a small farming community in Ohio. My friends and their parents need you to eat meat for their livelihood.
But where you see a perfectly grilled steak, my mind pictures the raw insides of a cow. Where you see BBQ chicken wings, I see the chickens on my grandma's farm frantically running around after losing their heads.
Ok, good. We've made it to the end of this post. Now maybe I will never have the dreaded "Yes, I Don't like Meat" conversation again. Ok, fine. The "Yes, I'm a Vegetarian" conversation.
As a traffic anchor in Washington D.C., I can vouch for all of the studies that rank our city as one of the worst traffic cities in the country. Even on a good morning, drivers creep along the Beltway.
And don't even get our Metro riders started. Two words: Safetrack Surges. Enough said.
But not this week. This week I'm pledging to skip the backroads and not tap my steering wheel impatiently when our country's history is right out my car window.
I mean, take a look at my drive (below!). All of my fingers and toes can't count up how many important places I pass every day.
And if gratitude doesn't stop me from getting testy in traffic down the road (pun intended)...
I'll just remind myself at least it's not inauguration week - when it is easier to kayak across the Potomac River than find a bridge open for drivers.
From my TV high heels, to the baseball cap I wear nearly everywhere else... I'm finding my voice in this blogging world.