Hungry Caterpillar's Party Cheesecake

Well, I promised y'all this recipe, so here it is... please have a cheesecake, if you're here for the party.

Now, I make the recipe slightly differently, as far as presentation and serving sizes go. Go to your local party store (Ours is actually called The Party Store, but there was one in our old city called Paper Factory) and buy disposable wine glasses. These 'plastics' hold about 4 oz, and then when you have a party, you'll have 1) more parfait to spread around and 2) less worry about someone breaking a super tall glass. Recipe makes six regular sized parfaits (as pictured) or 12 small ones.

Ingredients

1/2 cup graham cracker crumbs
2 TBSP Splenda granular
1 1/2 TBSP butter or margarine, melted
4 oz tub-style light cream cheese
4 oz non fat cream cheese, softened
1/2 cup fat free sour cream
1/4 Splenda granular
1 cup light whipped topping
2 TBSP sugar free raspberry topping (or chocolate) (Walden's farm makes a great selection of 0 calorie ice cream toppers) (optional)
1 1/4 cup fresh fruits (strawberries, melon, raspberries, blackberries, blueberries, watermelon, cantaloupe, etc.)

For a decorate approach, cut slices of melons and use small cookie cutters to punch out shapes. You can also garnish with various decorations (spiral cut orange peel, springs of mint, cocktail umbrellas, small plastic 'glass charms' and the like. have fun with it!)

In small bowl, mix graham cracker crumbes, 2 TBSP splenda, and butter. Set aside.

In a medium mixing bowl, beat cream cheeses with a mixer until creamy. Add sour cream, 1/4 cup splenda and stir until smooth. Fold in light whipped topping.

Divide graham cracker mixture among your glasses, covering the bottom of each glass. (for hollow stem plastic wine glasses, you may want to make up more graham cracker mixture. This will fall into the bottom of the stem and your guests will not be able to get it out, so it won't change the calorie count, unless they are very very determined, and really, if they are, they probably shouldn't be on WW anyway) Press down firmly. Divide the cream cheese mixture in half, then use divide that half into the number of glasses you intend to serve (six large, or a dozen small; this is about 3 tablespoons of mix for a large glass, and 1 heaping tablespoon to small ones)

Add plain berries to each cup, enough to fill a 'layer'... blueberries, raspberries, etc. Add a like amount of the cream cheeses on top of this berry layer. Top with 0 calorie raspberry or chocolate and decorative cut fruits and melons. Garnish as desired. Refrigerate for at least 30 minutes before serving. (Do not put fat free whipped topping on, unless you're going to do so immediately before serving. That stuff melts unattractively VERY quickly.)

Nutritional Information:
For Six servings:
185 calories/8 grams fat/Fiber 1 gram (4 WW points)
For Twelve Servings
93 calories/4 grams fat/Fiber .5 (2 WW points)

---

I'm in a strange mental place today, and not just because there's all these party people wandering around on my blog (Hi, Y'all!).

Do you ever do your visualization and then realize you've completely messed it up? Or something happens that makes it all a moot point?

As most of you know, I haven't been telling my best friend that I'm on Weight Watchers. Honestly, I didn't expect it to go on that long (either the lifestyle changes, or the not telling her, don't ask me which one, because the answer wouldn't be flattering to either of us!) And then her oldest child ended up with Type 1 Diabetes, and we just haven't seen each other at all this year.

The last time I saw her, or her husband, was when we were visiting their daughter in the hospital. Before that was about a week prior, when Anne was first starting to develop the symptoms, only no one knew what was wrong with her, and Carol was not paying the slightest attention to anything else that was going on, only that she had a hungry infant and a sick pre-schooler.

While I doubt that any amount of time will ease their anxiety about Anne, they are in a better mental place about it. I had thought we would be seeing them next week for the first time since January... and as every knows, I have lost a good amount of weight, as well as taking myself down a few pants sizes. So... my quandary has been this: what now? Bad: What do I say if she asks me about my weight loss?

Worse: How do I feel if she doesn't notice?

And I'd thought I had a whole extra week to prepare for this, since we're co-hosting the Early Bird cookout next weekend. I hadn't gotten an invitation to Pearl's birthday party (Pearl's mother tends to forget we exist because she doesn't see us often) and thought we weren't going to be going. But we got the invite in the mail two days ago, and since I was so mad about not being invited, it would be really shoddy of me not to go.

So now I have to face everyone for the first time in quite a while. I haven't seen Pearl's mom in... oh, since Darcy's birthday party, back in October, and even then I didn't get to talk to her much, trying to keep a half dozen pre-schoolers from running amok in the Build-a-Bear shop...

And I am sooooo not ready for this.

Living in CHAOS! or Blog Party, part One

Hey, you!

What are you doing here? Blog party? Is it the 7th already? Oh, god, it is!

Well, don't just stand there in the doorway, come in. I'm not really ready yet, though. You know how it is, living with a four year old... CHAOS everywhere (Can't Have Anyone Over Syndrome!) Sorry about the mess... oh, careful, you don't want to sit on the sofa just yet. My daughter likes to hide stuff under the couch cushions. Come on in the kitchen. You can lean in the doorway and we'll just chat while I get the dishes done, okay?

Hmmm? Oh, my dress! You like it? So do I. It's just my housedress, but it's really comfy... and it's so colorful, you can't really tell that I've spilled things on it. No, seriously, see those spots? That's bleach, from when I had a bleach pen explode on me a few months ago.

Would you like some chili? I've got the crock pot going. Oh, no, don't worry, it's vegetarian. Only three weight watchers points per serving. I made it with those Soy crumbles, and even Thomas, the "I did not claw my way to the top of the food chain to eat veggies" guy? He couldn't tell the difference. I've got some chopped onions in the fridge, if you want, and there's hot sauce in the breakfront there. No, up one shelf, there. Behind all my Crystal Light flavor tubes. There ya go. Oh, you probably don't want that one. I got given that one as a joke, and it's claw your eyeballs out hot. Yeah, cute bottle, though. Well, maybe not " Cute", exactly. My step dad gave it to me, and he's Texan. You know how those Texans are...

Ah, I'm glad you like it. Yeah, the canned corn adds something to chili, I'm not sure quite what, tho. Little crunch, maybe. I like using the different colored beans, too. Kidney, black beans, navy beans... makes the dish look more fun.

Well, if you're done just toss the bowl in the dish-washer, I'm almost ready to start the load up. Of course you can help, my goodness, we don't stand on ceremony here. The broom's in the closet. My mom used to have this poem on her kitchen wall, but I'm not like that.

Please stay away from my kitchen,
From my dishwashing, cooking and such.
You were kind to have offered to help me,
And I do want to thank you so much.
I hope you won't think me ungracious
When I ask that you leave me alone,
For my kitchen is not very spacious
And my system is strictly my own.
So please stay away of my kitchen,
It may well prevent a few wars,
And if I am invited to your house,
I promise I'll stay out of yours.

Yeah, I think it's cute, too. Not that she really meant it, you know. My grandmother never did, either. The first time my dad brought my mom to his house to meet his mom, she was standing in the doorway, just like you are now, making polite conversation. And my grandmother threw the broom at her. "As long as you're standing there, you may as well sweep the floor."

I promise, though, I won't throw anything at you.

I don't think I caught your name, though. I know, open invitation party and all, it gets hard to keep track of everyone. Fun, though.

Oh, me? Yeah, ok. I'm Lynn. I'm a 35 year old housewife in southern Virginia. I have a bachelor's degree in Victorian Literature (Would you like fries with that?) and I've written a couple novels that haven't been published yet. That raisinette in the bathroom who's been in the tub for over an hour now? That's my daughter, Darcy. She's four. Oh, I said that already, didn't I? Yeah, she's our only. I wouldn't mind another one, though. I love babies.

Oh dear. Sorry about that, yeah, my hand weights. I was working out yesterday and I didn't put them away. They're only three pounders, but I'm working my way up. (Working my weight down? Sorry, bad pun. I know, I know.) Hey, at least I put the tennis rackets away!

Ok, well, you just mingle, and I'm going to get these cheesecake parfaits started. Yeah, I can give you the recipe later, just remind me...

*Update: I have posted the cheesecake recipe here.

If selected, these are the prizes I'm most interested in: 56, 41, 103, 76, 8, 24, 58, 60, and 90 Or anything else to do with scrapbooking, being the mom of a 4 year old girlie girl, or nutrition/diet stuff.

Eleven-is Anytwo?

What began as a simple suggestion of mine ("Hey, maybe we could play tennis sometime? There's a court at the apartment complex after all...") turned into a monumental struggle.

First, we had to get rackets and balls... which was harder than it sounds. We went to Play It Again Sports, but they only had Very Expensive Rackets. (Sorry, I'm not playing pre-beginners tennis with a $75 racket, no.) We discussed going to Dick's Sporting Goods a few times, but never quite got around to it. Tuesday, we finally went to Target and bought el-cheapo rackets (since I needed to get a yoga mat anyway...)

We also got a sack of tennis balls (I argued for the bright pink breast cancer awareness balls, but Thomas said he was not NOT NOT looking like a complete ass on the court with bright pink balls. Yes, you can take that any way you like. You know I did.) and Darcy decided she had to have a racket, too, so she's got a spongebob racket.

Ok, we have rackets. We have balls. We... need to find out what the rules are for the apartment complex's court.

I called them today. The girl at the office (it's a new girl again, I swear the turnover rate in that office is HUGE. I have rarely seen the same person for more than 6 months and we've been here for four years now.) said she'd have to make some calls, that she didn't know anything about it... (they never do. know anything, that is.) I called back in an hour or so.

"Well, ma'am... we've had some vandalism problems with the court, and apparently someone set the net on fire a few months ago, and we don't have a new net yet, but there's supposed to be one in around mid-April, and there's a contractor who's going to be fixing the rest of the damage, and then maybe we'll be releasing keys to the residents if anyone wants them..."

Ooooookay.

"But, you might try the park..." she added, helpfully. "My dad and I play there all the time."

So, I called Parks and Services and found out where the tennis courts were (they're less than a mile away, and maybe when the days are a bit longer, we'll walk to the court, play, and come back... if the apartment complex doesn't fix our court - which I highly suspect they won't. Because you know, they just sort of suck that way.)

We drove out and then we had to wait for a while, because all the courts were in use - guess this is more popular than I might have thought. We watched a tennis lesson - twin girls probably a year or two older than Darcy were stretching when we first got there, and then their instructor was gently lobbing balls to them. They looked like they were having fun, so we may consider that for Darcy later, if she's interested. Finally one of the courts cleared (we talked to the couple as they were gathering up their balls, they do it for the exercise, too, and they were very friendly...) and we started to play.

I use the word play very very dubiously.

Neither of us has held a tennis racket since we were in our teens, and that was painfully obvious. Most of the time, we couldn't hit the ball more than twice over the net. Darcy thought this was enormously amusing, and loved running after the stray balls. Despite having her own racket, she wouldn't even try to hit the ball...

Towards the end, we were starting to get a little better, hitting the ball back and forth three, four... sometimes even five times.

And I discovered something.

I can run.

Not fast. Not gracefully. But it was, nonetheless, running.

Several years ago, I was in a bad car accident. If I hadn't been wearing a seatbelt, I would have been killed. As it was, I spent three months on the sofa in a cast on both arm and leg, and then the next six months learning how to walk again. I have enough titanium in my ankle to set off metal detectors. I carry a card in my wallet for going through airline security. (I haven't been on a plane since before this happened, and I've been told that airline security does not care about my little doctor's card, but I haven't had the opportunity to try it out.)

I used to think it was a miracle that I could walk, and that I'd just have to live with the fact that I was in regular pain. Not constant, but regular. Exertion, weather, cold, all made my ankle ache. I've been on Vicodaine for years. I was careful not to take them unless I needed it, but I'd probably take at least three or four in a month's time. More if I was doing much, or the weather was particularly stormy. I couldn't walk down stairs like a normal person. I had to go one step at a time, and hold on to the railing. Running was out of the question. Jumping was Right Out.

But... maybe... just maybe... I haven't been testing myself. I accepted my limitations and they became mine.

I ran, tonight. Not far. Not fast. Not gracefully.

But it was running.

And that is a miracle.