I do not resolve + cinnamon rolls

While ridiculous and counter-intuitive, I've considered not working out until February because I don't want to look like a New Year's resolutioner.

I have this thing where I imagine people will see me out running and go, oh look at that girl out running in all her new gear (which they'll assume because my running clothes never wear out - magic lycra!) when she's just going to give up and go home and eat a faceload of cinnamon rolls.

Because that would be 50% untrue and I will not have it.

Really though, I spent some serious time thinking of whether to put on ratty clothes to run on New Year's Day so that I wouldn't look like I was wearing clothes freshly unwrapped from Christmas. I considered ditching my tried-and-true cool weather running outfit of the past two+ years for cut-off sweats and a USMC tshirt so that I wouldn't look like I was wearing my special-for-New- Year's-Resolutioning outfit that had just arrived complete from Athleta.

Then I thought that might make me look EVEN MORE like a New Year's resolutioner because I was wearing clothes so obviously inappropriate for an outdoor workout in drizzly 40 degree weather and why would I do that if I weren't a New Year's resolutioner??

CONUNDRUM.

And then I just stopped being a crazy person, went for my run in my usual attire, saw almost not a single person for 7 miles and then came home to race Bubba to the middle of the pan of homemade cinnamon rolls.

Because my life is not My Life without stupendous irony.

If you could have smelled my kitchen. ..SWOON.

And today I went back to the gym after a few weeks off (the gym lives at work and I don't come to work when I'm on vacation, thankyouverymuch) and had a similar experience.

I got all ugh it's going to be so busy in there because now everyone has resolved to lose weight or get in shape and all they're going to do is steal the 10 lb weights for all of January even though I've been here three days a week for a year and need the 10 lbers. Jerks! for no reason.

Because when I got there, there were only the same old faces and a few new ones who wouldn't go anywhere near the free weights anyway because there aren't any instructions on them or those little pictures that tell you want body part you're working out with this machine. And since my gym clothes are nowhere near as fancy as my running clothes, I didn't get the did you just get that for Christmas looks from other gym-goers because who gets faded drawstring capris and Old Navy tank tops with holes on the hems for Christmas? No one, that's who.

So, the moral to this story is this - don't let me advise you on anything that requires sane reasoning because I've clearly veered off that path.

Also, you should make these cinnamon rolls if you have someone in your house who truly loves cinnamon rolls like my Bubba does because they are truly amazing.

We like canned frosting because we delightfully WT.

Do keep in mind, though, that this recipe makes 7 pans worth, so if you're not ready to bake a thousand rolls for New Year's breakfast, you can just parcel out the dough into 7 equal-ish sized portions and freeze for future use. Like, breakfast on January 3rd, 10th, 17th and so on.

This is only four portions because I don't know how to do fractions. And as I predicted, it doesn't matter.

I didn't realize this was a 7 pan recipe until I got to the 8 cups of flour part and was like, WTF? That's almost all of my flour! Why would it possibly need so much flour?

Oh. It is a holiday recipe intended to be baked and shared, one pan each, with neighbors. Isn't that nice. I guess I will just go about freezing some of this for later. And also I will go back to TJ's and get some more flour. And then I will stand back in amazement that someone is kind and generous enough with her time and flour to bake such things for her neighbors. Because as much as I bake and deliver goods to my neighbors, I've never done anything as amazing as these cinnamon rolls. That's heroic.

Oh, something else to note when making these is that you should make the dough and leave it to rise in a bigger pan than I did. Perhaps a 4+ quart sauce pan. Because this recipe in a 2.5 qt sauce pan does this on your stovetop:

This was right after Bubba said, "Babe - you're dough has gone over the wall." and I ignored him because I thought he was just being silly.

And then it does this in your fridge:

This was waiting for me after my run. I laughed for a long time before I cleaned it up. Yeast is funny.

Good news is that the dough's not super sticky, so it punches down right back in the pan like it never happened. Which is good because then you can enjoy your cinnamon rolls without having to explain why the fridge door is stuck closed. That'd be awkward.

This was from our second pan of rolls. They were better than the first, according to Bubba.