Monthly Archives: January 2016

Keepin’ It Real … The Itch

Alright. If you know me, you know I am an open book. I don’t hold back. Especially in the name of a good laugh. So I am starting a new series here on the blog called Keepin’ It Real. Really, it can be about anything I just want to talk about and, in the process, keep it real. And I am going all in for the first installment. Putting it all out there at the risk of complete and utter embarrassment.  If you are a guy, you probably want to stop here if you want to keep your fantasies that women are all roses and butterflies south of the border!

The Itch

Let’s just start this post by saying that I have not had many feminine issues. I have never had a yeast infection. I have had one UTI, which the doctor attributed to a “flurry of sexual activity.” Doesn’t that sound so wild, and fun, and …. young. The honeymoon phase of a relationship is a whole lot different than the two kids phase. The only flurry we have around here these days is snow flurries.

Then, there was that one time in college that I got one of those smelly bacterial infections. The prescription I was given warned me, ALL over the bottle, not to drink alcoholic beverages. I did not heed the warning. And miss a weekend at Mother Fletchers and the Freaky Tiki (I went to college in Myrtle Beach)?! Um, no. Grown-Up Sarah would like to smack College Sarah in the back of the head. That prescription warning was not just for fun because I don’t think I have ever been so sick in my life. I can still picture the toilet I spent hugging that night and next day. And I don’t think I drank again for, like, 2 weeks.

So you see, really, I have a very healthy, happy vajayjay. Until recently. When I got the Itch. What is the Itch, you ask?  Jock Itch. Also called, when on the foot, Athlete’s Foot. The irony is not lost on me. At this point in my life (or really any point in my life), Jock or Athlete are two words never used to describe me. And yes, women can also get Jock Itch. I know, I know, you hear Jock Itch and you instantly visualize toned football players in the locker room smacking each other’s asses. Not a 30-something mama of two with a muffin top sitting in her pajama bottoms writing a blog post on Jock Itch. But bikini line, groin, same thing. Same itch.

The Itch all started with some irritation in my bikini line that I attributed to razor rash. It seemed to mostly go away but would get itchy every now and then when I wore certain underwear. Fact – I need new underwear. Or to lose weight. Or, in the perfect world, BOTH. But because I refuse to buy underwear that could double as a sail, some of my undies are a little snug. So this cycle went on – I would think it was gone and then all of the sudden it would flare up and get really itchy! But then it was gone. So I didn’t think too much of it til it got itchy again.

Well, this last time, it was out of control itchy. Like, OMG-this-shit-is-itchy itchy. And then it started to burn. I decided this cannot be irritated razor rash. So I had to do secret internet research. Don’t want the kiddos to see any pictures that might pop up, don’t want the hubs to see me reading up on “WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH MY CROTCH” (a very interesting and informative Google search, I assure you), and I certainly don’t want the creepy interwebs to start targeting me with advertisements about creams and vajayjay cleanses.

Based on my research, I determined it must be Jock Itch. It was only in my bikini line, which made me think it wouldn’t be a yeast infection, and it is winter here in Western New York, so there ain’t no air gettin’ up there. It is dark, and cozy, and warm. Apparently all things that Jock Itch likes. So I got some Jock Itch cream (for the hubs of course), and, let me tell you, nearly INSTANT relief. So I do believe my self diagnosis is correct.  Who knew. But please, for the love of all things chocolate, can we come up with a better name for this than Jock Itch?


Mexican Goulash | Dinnertime and the Livin’s Easy

I took this meal up a notch and made it my own tonight so it is time to share. This recipe is quick, easy and yummy plus uses only one pot. It is pasta plus taco. What could be better? Hopefully someday my picky eaters will like it, and it will be a family favorite (I am not holding my breath on the last part)!


Mexican Goulash

One Pot Beef Taco Pasta

Mexican Goulash

  • Servings: 4-6
  • Difficulty: easy
  • Print


1 pound ground beef
1 package of taco seasoning, pick your heat
1 1/2 cups frozen corn kernels (I have also used canned corn, drained)
1/2 cup salsa
1/2 cup taco sauce
1 can diced tomatoes
2 cups water
2 cups elbow noodles
Grated cheese, optional
Beans, optional


1. Brown the ground beef in a large skillet over medium heat. Once browned, add taco seasoning and stir to coat.

2. Add corn, salsa, taco sauce, diced tomatoes, water, and elbow noodles. Bring to a boil, cover and reduce heat. Simmer for 10-15 minutes, or until noodles are the way you like to eat them. This always seems to take longer on my stove top.

3. If desired, add beans of choice and cheese. If you have a crowd that all loves black beans or pinto beans, I would add them with the other ingredients, otherwise heat before serving. Or add a dollop of refried beans on top, then stir it in – it is delicious. Weird looking but delicious.



This is a great go-to meal if you are short on time, or just don’t feel like cooking. It is going to be a resident in my 2 week meal plans!

Recipe adapted from Dinners, Dishes and Desserts.

Ohhh, Baby I Love …. Strawberry Revolution Tiebacks

I love stuff. And I love supporting small businesses. So when I find stuff I love. Like can’t-live-without love, I have to share it. It would be mean of me not to, right? After all, kind is the new pretty according to one of my FAVE small businesses, Strawberry Revolution.


Michelle, the face, brain and heart behind StrawRev is a genius. She won’t admit it, but she is. She has designed not only one perfect headband, the Studio Tieback, but recently released another that is now fighting for the Best Headband Ever award, the Boho Twist.

Let me start by telling you that I have never been able to wear headbands. I hated them, in fact. Besides needing to fix them a million times a day, they always gave me terrible headaches. But when I started my photography business, a hair tie wasn’t cutting it. The flyaways and falling pieces in my face drove me nuts. So. Finally, I broke down and tried one of these Studio Tiebacks my tog friends were raving about.

Oh. Em. Gee. I am now a collector. And they are a normal part of my new uniform as a work at home mama. I am telling you, if you have hair, you need to try one! No headaches and they stay in place all day long. Like all day. Like you forget they are there all day. Like I usually have a couple on my nightstand because I forget I have them on and go to bed.

Even better? Michelle has one of the biggest hearts I know. Proceeds from every sale are donated to help put an end to bullying. Her packaging makes you feel gooooood. And she had also designed fun shirts that every woman needs. They are soft and comfy, and have messages we can all relate to: “Mom Boss” “Kind is the New Pretty” “Coffee Makes Me a Better Person” and more!

Trust me when I say, you need Strawberry Revolution in your life. Go. Now. Treat yourself.

Best Headband Ever


Slow Cooker Mongolian Beef | Dinnertime and the Livin’s Easy

Yesterday, I made the first dinner of my first 2-week meal plan. I went with a new recipe, added a few tweaks of my own and the result was pretty yummy and the hubs approved! Best part though? It was super easy to make!


Slow Cooker Mongolian Beef

  • Servings: 4-6
  • Difficulty: easy
  • Print


Between 1 and 1.5 pounds of stew meat (I use the pre-cut stew meat because it is easier and, well, less gross)

1/3 cup corn starch

2 tablespoons olive oil

3-4 minced or pressed garlic cloves

1/4 teaspoon garlic powder

3/4 cup soy sauce

3/4 cup water

3/4 cup brown sugar

Green onions, one bundle will more than do you


  1. Put the corn starch and garlic powder into a large zip lock bag, and give her a shake to mix. Add stew meat (if you don’t buy the pre-cut, cut it into strips or chunks first). Shake, rattle and roll until the meat is covered. Set aside.
  2. In your crock pot, mix together the olive oil, garlic, soy sauce, water and brown sugar until the brown sugar dissolves. This will seem like a LOT of soy sauce. With the little pouring device, it is almost painfully slow and you WILL question whether this is too much soy sauce. Just keep going.
  3. Add coated meat to crock pot, mix to coat meat with sauce. Put on top, and cook for 5-6 hours on low, or 3-4 hours on high.
  4. Serve over rice, and top with some green onions, sliced.

Easy and tasty. My kind of recipe.

Recipe slightly tweaked from The Recipe Critic



Reflection: #180in2015

So last Thursday, New Year’s Eve, I had big plans. The littles were seemingly on the upswing from a respiratory virus that had kept them inside since Christmas, so we were going to go to the movies, get home about the same time as Daddy and have a little dinner. After the kids were put to bed, I planned on writing a blog post about the huge year of 2015, highlighting my mishaps and celebrating my victories, and then actually spend some time on the couch with my hubs. My 21 year old self is shaking her head at me for calling those big plans, but she had no clue what exhausted was!

Well, my plan was not to become a reality when, instead, I had the scariest moment of parenting to date. Madeline, my 3 year old, went from being still a little sick to being very sick in a very short period of time. Long story short, she was full of poop which blocked her urethra so she couldn’t pee, causing her bladder to be so full it was bulging out of her abdomen and she very quickly became dehydrated. The looks on the doctors’ faces in the ER before they determined it was her bladder protruding from her abdomen was scary. How quickly my daughter became completely pale and limp was terrifying.

So my internal reflection of 2015 ended up a little differently than anticipated. Instead of being at my computer with a glass of wine in hand, I was trapped underneath my 3 year old who had just had an enema and put so much effort into expelling her blockage that she immediately fell asleep, leaving me trapped and waiting for a doctor or a nurse to come save me from my parental hell …. Frozen on TV.

As an employment attorney, I talked to thousands of employees from all walks of life. Professionals to minimum wage retail employees, and everyone in between. Typically, they were employees who had a negative employment action or experience. What the collective “we” often doesn’t realize, in our own role as an employee, is that our job, our career, becomes a huge part of who we are and it starts to define us. We too often spend more awake time at our jobs with our co-workers and bosses than we spend with our family and loved ones. It is common to hear people say that you shouldn’t bring you home life to work with you, or that you shouldn’t let your personal life impact your work. But what about when you constantly bring your work home with you. When you let your work life impact your home life, your health and eventually you?

I can tell you, it sneaks up on you. It is a gradual process that can easily go unnoticed. You slowly become negative and bitter, you take it out on your significant other because he is your safe place. Your not present with your kids in the time you do have with them because you are so distracted by work things. And, if you let it get bad enough, you start having panic attacks and hiding in bathrooms. You get put on anxiety meds with a separate prescription for “those times” when you are about to go off the deep end. That was my breaking point anyways. And it took 3 long years to get me to that point. 3 years of becoming more and more stressed. More and more unhappy. But getting put on medication was a wake-up call. So was sitting on a toilet to avoid the unavoidable (and maybe because the stress is giving you the shits). But those are details for another post, at another time.

What I knew, what my husband knew, was that I had to get out of that situation. We had to do something. So, we took the advice of a friend and former colleague, and “went nuclear.” Let me just tell you, going nuclear is scary. But staying in the same place was scarier.

I don’t really like to clean. I have never had any interest in cooking. But here I was, quitting my job as a litigation attorney to stay at home with my kiddos, keep house and pursue my passion of photography. That was probably the scariest part of the whole thing! I remember early in the #180in2015 being out of the house with both kids, and trying to get them put back together to go back home. I was juggling a purse, a diaper bag, all their stuff, and trying to zip a winter jacket on a squirming kid. I am sure I looked like a crazy woman who had never left the house, and well, I kind of was. It was probably the same night that I made Hot Dog Pizza for dinner. But day after day, things became more familiar and easier. I now leave the house without distress, I ditched the diaper bag and I can zip a coat on a kid hanging upside down. I can make an entire Christmas dinner without being overwhelmed, and without hot dogs, and it comes out pretty good.

By summer, I kept catching myself feeling weird. I had weaned myself off the meds, so I knew it wasn’t that. I was smiling for no apparent reason, maybe even singing or humming to myself. It took a little bit for me to realize it was happiness. I was happy. It had been so long since I was actually happy in my life, my whole life, that I forgot what it was like. My happiness had been sucked out of me by my work life, but I got it back. My kids brought it back. Don’t get me wrong, the #180in2015 wasn’t all rainbows and butterflies. I. Quit. My. Job. We traded in a regular paycheck and benefits for two small businesses and being self-employed. There have been weeks when we have asked ourselves how can we keep on going like this. But here we are, a year in, and still going. And happy. I am happy despite the stresses of life.

And now that my happy is back, and I am re-discovering who I am, I am fully able to appreciate my kids, my marriage, my family and my life. I am there to celebrate my littles’ accomplishments no matter how minor, and to love them through their disappointments. To be present with them and not be stressed out to the point of complete distraction. Even when I am marinating in the smell of stale poop, weighted down to the bed by a 25 pound child being forced to watch Frozen for the 539,342nd time, I am happy.

So, a week late, cheers to #180in2015. And the Borns are ready for #killingitin2016.