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Wednesday, September 24, 2014

In The Spaces

In the spaces seems like the best way to explain it.  I've been pretty introspective lately - I guess that's my age 35 thing to do.  I guess I should back up.

35!!!!!

I am officially 35.  What does this mean?  Well, I no longer can check the box for 25 - 34.  Nielsen doesn't really care about my ratings and I feel comfortable saying "I remember when"... other than that I'm still me.  Or a still changing me.

For my birthday I got flowers and dinner and a balloon from Ladybug (that met an unfortunate demise at the hands of her cousin - but never tell Ladybug.  NEVER EVER).  The next day I hung out with a friend and got a pedicure.  Birthday over.  LOL.  Oh, and my mom took me to lunch and I bought new bras.  I also danced in multiple stores because that's my new thing to do now.  Dancing in stores and thinking about my feelings - a weird combo.

The Biggest Loser 

The Biggest Loser is one of my favorite shows.  Even though they don't seem to understand percentages (200 lb girl loses 6 lbs she sucks, 300 lb dude loses 9 lbs he's awesome.  That's dumb)  Before an added bonus was the sweet hunk of Chocolate that is Dolvett.  Mmmmhhhhmmmmmmm  He seemed like a good trainer too and all but hubba hubba.





This season, two new trainers some dude (couldn't be bothered to Google) and Jen. Jen apparently is a unicorn trapped in a human's body and I'm pretty sure she has magical powers and poops rainbows. And I think her hugs melt fat and burn calories.  In conclusion, I should be sitting in her bushes right now - which isn't as difficult as I thought as she doesn't live that far from here. Or at least she grew up here.  She started talking about how people can be motivated by fear or by love - and my eyes glossed over a bit and I probably rolled my eyes because FEELINGS WHO NEEDS THEM?!?!  But the more she talked, the more she got to me.  Halfway through the show she had me believing in myself and wanting to do better.  WITH HER FEELINGS TALK!!!!!! GASP.



Introspection 

Fear vs. love stuck with me.  Stuck.  It's everywhere I go.  I started to think about my decision making process and what motivates me.  Although I've (mostly) abandoned my need to be perfect and have made peace (or at least called a truce) with my aversion to asking for help, I'm pretty much failing in the love vs. fear department.

Lately I've felt so pressed for time.  Like the clock was working against me.  And when I feel like I'm going to be late or am pushing up on a deadline the pressure is palpable.  Like my world is constricting.  It's fear.  Fear of failure, fear of not making it, fear of not being good enough.  Fear.



Weight Loss 

I have all the tools and knowledge needed to lose weight.  Yet, I'm not.  Because I'm not trying.  And I don't have a good reason other than "because I'm not".  Maybe I'm not ready to give up my food security blanket.  But I've got to figure it out.

Monday, September 1, 2014

The Accidental Couch Potato

At the beginning of this year I had a plan to lose 50 pounds.  I wasn't going to carry all of this weight into my 35th year...

Well.  That was an epic fail.  My husband lost his job at the end of last year and I compensated with chicken. And pizza.  And tacos.  You know the regular crew.  Between October 2013 and May 2014 I gained 25 pounds.  I blamed the food.  And yes, the food definitely has something to do with it.

But.  (yes. but) There's a bigger issue here.  I don't move during the day.  I don't move.  At all.  None. Zilch.

.

You see that period?  That's how far I travel.  Not far. My typical schedule:


  • 5:30 am - Wake up 
  • 6:15 am - Out the door
  • 7:15 am - Get to work
  • 4:45 pm - Leave work 
  • 6:05 pm - Get to daycare 
  • 6:30 pm - Get home, do home stuff 
  • 8:30 pm - Close door on toddler after saying goodnight
  • 8:45 pm - Assume the position in front of the laptop to write words
  • 11:30 pm - Go to bed
  • 11:45 pm - Actually put phone down and go to sleep 
At home I park in the driveway.  
At work I park close to the door. 
The printer is 4 steps (literally) from my desk. 
A round trip to the bathroom is 122 steps. 

At my old job, I had to walk up hill 4 miles in the snow both ways to get to the door.  It was horrible.  HOR. RI. BLE. The bathroom wasn't close. The lunchroom wasn't close.  Nothing was close.  Everything was far. The best part about being pregnant was the super parking pass that let me park close to the door.  It was THAT bad. But... that wretched walk was probably all that saved me from wearing a size 532.  
Even worse in the snow!!!!

One of my writing clients is Withings.  They have awesome products that help you get in shape and live a healthy lifestyle.  And they were kind enough to let me use some of their products to help me lose this weight. The Pulse O2 tracks activity as well as can take your pulse and check your oxygenation.  

Thanks to the activity tracker it is PAINFULLY obvious how much I don't move.  On a busy day at work, I may hit 1,500 steps.  Maybe.  If I had to pee a lot.  A measly 1,500.  I started taking the stairs down every time, but even all 6 floors is only about 300 steps.   Yes down.  I did up once and sounded like Darth Vader and Bane's asthmatic child at my desk for 10 minutes afterwards. I was convinced that I was oxygen deficient. I was going to pass out.  I used the Pulse to check my oxygenation - 98%.  I was fine, just fat. I'm working on it.  


Goal 0 times.  That's me.  I'm a fantastic under achiever.   So.  I'm going to keep working on it.  Taking the stairs, walking the long way to the car, getting in the steps where I can.  Because even if I only eat lettuce (will totally never happen) if I don't get moving nothing else will matter.  

Needless to say, I'm back on the journey.  And trying to find a way to squeeze in some exercise. sssssqqqquuueeeeezzzzeeeeee. 

What helps you get in the fitness?  And what on earth do you do with your hair?!?!?!

Friday, August 1, 2014

Who Stole July?

Today is August 1st.  I'm not sure how that happened.  Apparently the month of July just evaporated from the calendar.  Why July can do that but January lasts approximately 187 days I don't know.

Does anyone else feel like summer is just two months?  Just July and August?  Maybe it's because of Chicago weather.  Maybe it's the school year (which really doesn't affect me). But the summer is half over (booooooo).

So what have I been up to?

I took the first week of July off.  Mostly because I can take a week of daycare and not pay (the daycare struggle is so real I can touch it).  And thanks to the holiday I got a 5 days off for the price of 4.

That meant the most possible Ladybug time.

First up, a trip to the aquarium. We touched Stingrays.  I'm not sure what I thought they would feel like, but they were slimy.  


Next, a trip to children's museum.  Thank goodness for lunch and this child's affinity (strong STRONG affinity) for food.  Otherwise we never would've gotten her out of there.  

Also a family reunion where the baby got her dance on. 

video

And I got my hustle on.  Wrote the most words I'd ever written.  Wrote about all kinds of things.  Set a monetary goal and beat it by nearly 10 percent.  The good news is I can make money.  The bad news is I don't necessarily like the person I had to become in order to hit my goals.  Everything was about a deadline.  I was obsessive about the time between me hitting the front door after work and my 10:30 deadline.  I still have a goal for the next 30 days.  However, I've got to balance the hustle, work and family better than I did before.  I was smart and took a few days off and allowed myself some time to recharge.  

Swimming lessons went well.  Ladybug talks about gymnastics all the time so we're going back.  Which means I need to write more words.  :-) 

What have you done this summer? 

Monday, June 16, 2014

Outrageous Outrage!!!

One of my least favorite things about social media is the OUTRAGE!!!!! about the most trivial of things.  Everyone  is OMG I'M SO UPSET THAT SOMEONE I'LL NEVER KNOW DID THIS THING THAT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH ME AND IT IS RUINING MY LIFE.


Maybe other people are better about taking their B vitamins.  Maybe it's because I don't drink energy drinks.  Maybe it's because I have a life, a full time job, a couple of side hustles and I just don't have the emotional capacity for outrage.  Let's say I wake up with 100 energy parts every day.  I'm guessing that OUTRAGE is at least 35 energy parts.  No one has that kind of energy to spend on silly stuff.  Well, obviously some people do.

I'm convinced that much of the outrage isn't even outrage.  It's fauxrage.  Oh, someone else is outraged.  Let me get outraged too.  That is dumb. Go read a book.

This week's things you're supposed to be upset about:

Blue Ivy's Hair - Apparently Blue Ivy's parents have allowed their child to run feral and be raised by wolves.  In fact, they only allow her to eat on Tuesdays and every third Friday.  Sometimes, she's just given a loincloth and told to kill her own meat.  Obviously the people need to be called.  Oh wait.  That's not the case at all.  I promise no matter what Blue's hair looks life your life will be the same.  If she has a head full of twists tomorrow your credit score will not miraculously change to 850.  Elves will not clean your house while you sleep if her hair is braided.  Your boss will not suddenly stop giving you the side eye if she has on a baby lace front.   It's hair.  It's not even your hair.  Calm down.

Zendaya as Aaliyah - It was announced today that Zendaya will play the late Aaliyah in a Lifetime movie about her life.  I could stop here and talk about how being outraged about a Lifetime movie is everything that is wrong with America.  None of the fauxrage is about Zendaya's dancing or singing ability.  Nope.  It's because she's "not black".  I could do a series of posts about this very topic.  Zendaya is mixed, her father is African, her mother is white.   According to the internet today this means she's not black.  However, Barack Obama, he's still black, don't get that twisted.   Never mind that Zendaya can trace her roots directly to Africa, and most "black" people can not.   Also, she's too light.    Here's the thing wise people of the interwebs...  Aaliyah - also "mixed", her grandmother was native american.  And she was light too! GASP!!!! OH THE HORROR!!!! OHHHHHHH.   Really? Truth is unless your parents are immigrants, YOU ARE MIXED TOO!  I promise after watching the Lifetime movie gas will still be too high and bacon will still cost too much.  Simmer down.

If you did a series of posts full of fauxrage about the above you should probably reevaluate your life.  The whole thing.  And get a hobby.  Or a pet.  Or a job.  Something.  Get something.

The Domino Effect

I am, by nature, a worrier.  I'm sure I've posted about this before.  I worry about everything all the time.  I may, just may, absolutely do have control issues. One way of dealing with those issues is planning.  I have fully earned the "Planner McPlannington" nickname bestowed upon by my best friends. My plan b has a plan b.  And likely a plan c.  I obsess over things.  When my money doesn't feel right, I will plot my income and expenses in a spreadsheet.  And then the next day, I will plot my income and expenses in a spreadsheet.  I will go through several "what if" scenarios.  And then I will plot my income and expenses in a spreadsheet.  Yes, the numbers look the same every time, but the exercise helps quell the




that goes on in my head. Unfortunately, sometimes something goes awry and I have one errant thought that somehow gets tied to an emotion.  (the worst possible thing that could ever happen).  And that thought/feeling generates another, which generates another, which generates another. And then this happens:

  The emotions domino and cause another emotion until one breaks off and attacks me and knocks me down then stabs me in the leg.

I wish I could blame this on hormones. Ordinarily, this type of event would be the perfect segue to EAT EAT EAT EAT EAT! But I'm dealing.  Mostly.

Sunday, June 15, 2014

Happy Father's Day To My Daddy

This morning on Father’s Day, a lot of people will post about how their dad is the best and most awesome and all of that.  And they will be wrong.  You see, I have the best daddy in the whole wide world.  Yes, I am 34 and still call my daddy daddy.  So?!?!

My daddy is a goon.  A goon.  What does that mean?  You know Daddy Pope from Scandal?  Mr. “I am the hell and the high water”?  When that line was said, I sat a little straighter.  Daddy?  When I was little, my daddy was Command.  Have you walking in fear Command.  I think you can read my thoughts Command. A 94% on a test isn’t your best command.  People in the neighborhood thought he was the police.  Nope.  He just walked like he ran everything.  The undertaker.  Literally.  When I was 9 or so a little boy pushed me down in the alley and I cut my ear.  My personal goon walked to the boy’s house and told him in front of his mama “I bury little *bleeps* like you every day” and told him to stay away from me.  Goon!!!!!

He taught me to play poker, sat me down for scary movies, challenged me to do the best I could and not to rest on what I was given naturally.  He treated me like a girl despite my tomboy tendencies.  My brother who is 4 years younger could be gone forever.  No big deal. I swear I had to check in every twelve and a half minutes.   He got that “gaht damn Chrysler” I just had to have fixed whenever I needed help, which was often because I drove that car into the ground. 

My personal superhero, he has always been there to support me.  One of the reasons why I’ve been able to step out on faith, I know I have a safety net beneath me.  He’s one of the most doting grandfathers I know.  I didn’t expect him to be there at the hospital, we’d never talked about it.  But he called me while I was in labor and asked if he should come then, I told him no, nothing was happening yet.  It really didn’t matter what I said, dude was sitting in the parking lot.

He’s not the best at feelings (not that I know anyone else with that issue *ahem*) but he texts me every morning and says he loves me.  He’s the reason we were able to still get our house 7 years ago when the builder pulled an okey doke on us and he slid me cash on the sly when things got rough.  He tells me to relax, gives me perspective, reminds me that as long as you’ve got food and your bills are paid things are ok.

My parents divorced when I was 11.  My dad moved 8 blocks away and was and is an ever present force in my life.  He didn’t do it alone (my mom is also the awesomest) but he did his part and so much more. 


In conclusion (LOL), my dad is the awesomest, most awesome, memorized the dictionary and therefore should never be played in Scrabble, can solve the Wheel of Fortune puzzle with 2 letters, best spaghetti and chili making, has a black belt and announces the kicks while watching karate movies, daddy in the whole wide world.  

My daddy and Ladybug. 

Tuesday, June 10, 2014

The Swimming Lesson

Last year, I really wanted to enroll Ladybug in swimming lessons.  I was kind of obsessive about it actually.  The spots seemed to fill up instantaneously at our park district, but I wasn't deterred.  I checked parks in the surrounding area, nothing.  Well nothing if you have a job.  If  I wanted to take lessons at 10 am on a Wednesday I had all the opportunity in the world.  

I ended up finding classes at the Y, but after adding in the fees it didn't make financial sense.

This year I was prepared.  I stalked the park district's website.  I knew I had to reaffirm my residency card (helloooooo discount) and knew exactly what paperwork I'd need to do so.  I unearthed one of Ladybug's birth certificates.  I was ready.  Registration started on a Sunday.  Ladybug and I were at the park bright and early!!! I explained that we were registering for classes.  She stared at the pool.  She wanted to get in the pool.  She wanted to look at the people swimming at the pool.  She wanted to never leave the pool's side.  The pool was her soul mate.



I drug her out crying "noooooooo I want to get in the pooooooooooolllllllll" Drama, thy name is Ladybug.

She got a new swimsuit.  I got a new swimsuit.  We were ready!!!!  Mostly.

You see Ladybug, although she is fabulous and awesome and smart and beautiful and funny, she has a problem with water.  Baths are fun.  But.  Shampoos?  Shampoos are obviously evil and are a tool of the man designed to keep her down.  She rages against the machine when it comes to shampoos.  I got hit with my first "I'm not your friend anymore" on Saturday.  You know why?  A shampoo.

We got to the park and took full advantage of the family changing rooms.  We were super early, so we had about 15 minutes to burn while we watched all the other kids come in.  Both the baby class (us) and the preschool class (next year?) are held at the same time.  Ladybug was all excited.  "Is it our turn yet?"

It was finally our turn.  The parents were instructed to sit on the edge of the pool and get the kids feet wet.  Ladybug was calm, but kind of hesitant.  Then we got in the pool.  I must mention here that she was in my arms, attached to my hip, one with my flesh the whole time.

And this happened to Ladybug

Get in the water - cry
Jump up and down - cry
Water hokey pokey - cry
Float on your back - cry
Float on your belly - cry
Blow bubbles - cry
Splash!!!! - *does 1 tiny little fetus splash*
Play with water toys - cry
Time to get out the pool - cry
Leave the pool area - cry
Leave the building - cry

So swimming was "fun".  Luckily for me she wasn't the other crier.  Then she told me she wanted to go back to the pool so she could cry.  Smh.

We practiced blowing bubbles and getting her face wet in the bathtub.  I've been telling her that she doesn't have to be afraid because mommy is right there.  We're working on it.  Because we're totally going back next week.

We may be the living embodiment of both the watermelon and fried chicken stereotypes, but the water one isn't happening.

Monday, June 9, 2014

Month One Update

It's been (roughly) a month since I started "trying" to lose weight.  I'd be a dirty lying liarpants if I said I was 100% in, 100% focused, 100% of the time.  I have done better.  I have exercised.  I have been more conscious of what I'm doing.

However.  A VERY BIG HOWEVER!!!! I'm still stress eating.  Still.  In fact, this morning I had a stream of thoughts along these lines:

- I'm going to do right today
- I'm going to drink all my water
- I'm not going to go downstairs and eat a bacon sandwich
- I'm going to lose this weight
- I'd really like some hot wings.  Some good ones.  Not too salty, just good and delicious.

And that's how it happens.  I caught the thought as it turned through my brain.  I didn't have hot wings for lunch.  Score!  I did, however, have free pizza and salad.  And the whipped cream off a cupcake.  Don't judge me, all I wanted was the whipped cream.

I'm down another 1.6, for a total of 2.8 pounds.  Yes, it's a start.  But it's not a great start.

One of my side hustle clients is a luxury drug rehab center.  One of their main focuses is equipping their clients to deal with stress without using their substance of choice.  My substance of choice is calories.  A lot of calories.  To numb things.  To block out others.  To pretend things are okay.  To quiet the doubt, quell the fear, avoid my thoughts.  I have to stop this.  I'm hurting me.  I've got to do better.

I'm totally Elsa.  I'm all "conceal, don't feel, don't let it show" and instead of turning my country into Siberia I'm turning myself into SumoBekonce.



I can do better.  I must do better.  I will do better.

Stats

Weeks 2-4 Lost 1.6 pounds, Total loss 2.8 pounds, current weight 248.0
Week 1 - Lost 1.2 pounds, Total loss 1.2 pounds, current weight 249.6
Starting Weight 250.8


Wednesday, June 4, 2014

Nature! - Bleh!

Everyone that knows me knows that I don't like outside.  Outside is extra horrible.  There are bugs out there.  I can't control the wind or the humidity.  Oh, and don't get me started on the pollen.  Ugh.  I only like it outside when I can have a nice lunch at about 75 degrees with just enough wind to move the air without making my hair sad.

Of course, this means I have a child who thinks outside is the best thing ever.  Ever in the history of ever.  Luckily, we have a pretty large yard and she's able to be freeeeeeee.... until too many bugs touch us.  Then it's time to go.

We have two small evergreen trees in the back.  One is doing okay, one is looking a bit dry since the slope of the yard helps the other one.  We've had birds' nests in both in years' past.  So Ladybug and I started checking them out.  The non dry tree has an awesome nest.  But no birds.  The dry tree... four beautiful robin eggs!!!


Ladybug was so excited, she had to tell Zahra aka "Dog dog".  Z wanted no part.  None.

A couple of weeks later we had babies!  I should name them.  Let's name them Logan, Xavier, Jean and Ororo.
It's all good right?  Nature and the circle of life and all of that?  Well.  You see.  There's a downside to our front seat to birdapalooza.  The robins are pretty sure they own the place.   Last time I checked, the robins hadn't contributed anything to the mortgage so they need to go have a seat.  A nice quiet poop free seat.

One would think my ferocious attack dog would be all over that.  Patrolling the yard, showing those birds who is boss.



Zahra is the least possible help.  At least I have back up.
video

Wednesday, May 28, 2014

Oops!

Yesterday was supposed to be day three of my C25K.  But it rained.  A lot of rain.  I told myself that I'd do it today.  I'd have to get up at 5 am to do it before work and that just wasn't happening.  I came home, fed Ladybug and changed into my work out clothes, looked out the window and said, oh crap it's gonna rain.
Kind of like this, obviously not my house.
I went on about my business doing fun things like reading "Pizza Cat" (aka Pete The Cat) with Ladybug.  I don't know that it actually rained.  I didn't hear any, and I kind of feel bad about that because I didn't intend to flake.  So I guess I'm getting up at 5am.  

Speaking of Pete The Cat, I'm pretty sure adults should have to read children's books.  In many ways, they're wasted on kids.  Kids don't have real adversity, or at least they shouldn't.   Pete the cat had a coat with buttons that was his favorite.  One by one they popped off.  But Pete wasn't sad.  He was happy because he still has a belly button.


A week or so ago, one of the buttons popped off of my favorite sweater.  Mostly because my boobs refused to be contained.  I was sad, but obviously I shouldn't have been, because I still have my cavernous belly button.

Yesterday, I went swimsuit shopping, Ladybug and I start lessons next week.  I also forced myself to buy a few warm weather things because wearing a sweater in 90 degree weather is just asking for heat stroke.  I have enough issues thank you very much.

I tried on a couple of things that I knew wouldn't fit just because I was dreading shopping in fat people land.  You know, where the grannies shop. In fact, someone's granny walked past me as I was circling the perimeter of the land of the wide hips. I got a few things, a couple of pairs of work capris and a couple of tops.  And got a bunch of compliments on my chunky granny wear today.  As much as I hate to admit it, wearing something in the right size is much more comfortable that starving part of my body of blood and oxygen.  But, that discomfort is motivation.

Team no more fat.  Or no more horrifying swimsuit experiences when your toddler sings about boobs loudly in the fitting room.  I guess she was inspired.

Monday, May 26, 2014

C25K Day 2

I wish I could say that on day two I ran like the wind, that I found the sprinter down in my soul.  That didn't happen. 

On Sunday, we had people over, but I was determined to get my exercise in. Jethro had the great idea to take Zahra with me. Now, I KNEW this was a set up. Because despite having 4 legs, Zahra's not exactly into running. She's into naps. The plan was to do one circuit around the subdivision with her and them finish solo. 

I tried to remember how far I'd gotten the first day before the first running interval. Apparently I blocked that from my mind and got suckered into taking Z with me. 
She did fine during the walk. But Z wasn't having any jogging. No thank you. In fact , she pulled out of her harness (she has lost some weight) and kind of trotted beside me. 

She the assumed this position for the rest of the day. 

After dropping her back of at the house I kept walking but just didn't have the umphf that I started with. 

All in all I did 1.7 miles but I could've done better. I am proud of myself for getting out there, it would've been really easy to flake but I didn't. Progress. 

Friday, May 23, 2014

C25k - Day One

I was on it. Since I've given up the ghost on my shoe size, I knew I had to have new running shoes. That and the fact that whenever I tried to run before I would get the worst cramps in my feet. I tried to figure out what the best kind of shoe was for me. But after seeing prices online I decided to find comfortable and cheap. Luckily my thrifty ways got me $80 Nikes for $35

Who ever would've thought I would've bought pink shoes? 

Today begins a 5 day weekend for me, I slept in (til 7!!!!!) then went about finding the duct tape for my boobs. 

Today's work out:
- 5 minute walk 
- 1 min run / 90 sec walk (times 6)
- 5 minute walk 

A few things. I need to organize my playlist because trying to *werk* to Ave Maria and At Last is not what's up. But Partition?!?!? Whhooooooo Lawd. I ran when it wasn't time to run when that was on. 

Day one complete. I didn't run all of the time I was supposed to partially due to the flames erupting from my legs. But not bad for the first day of trying to move allllllllllll of this. 



Wednesday, May 21, 2014

May Update

Right now I should be blogging about how getting treatment for your Xanax addiction is a really good idea or about how freezing your eggs is an awesome way to preserve your fertility, but I'm not in the mood.  Plus, I have more than an hour until they're do so I'm free to do whatever I want.  Or at least that's what I like to tell myself.

Some updates:

I'm still digging the new job.  I've got into a rhythm of sorts and I'm feeling a bit better about time management.  Which means less stress.  Or what should be less stress.  There seems to be 50% more cars on the road than their used to be two months ago.  I'm not sure where all of these people came from, but I'm sure they should go back.  They don't have to go home but they have to get the heck up off 355.

Ladybug is 2 going on at least 27.  Its so amazing to see what qualities of mine and Jethro's she's picked up.  She's an uber rule follower like myself, but she's got a temper that is all his.  She loves books like me but loves to dance like her daddy.  She's the most empathetic person I know.

She self decorates with stickers


I've learned to watch what I say around her, she mimics everything I do.  And I realize you should KNOW that as a parent.  But in practice, it's the small things.  Like me fussing while driving "Dude!!!" and her response is where's the dude?  What's the dude doing? Is that the dude over there? The dude isn't driving good?  Something unexpected, while getting her out of her car seat last week I poked her on accident.  She didn't cry, but looked a little offended and I apologized. "I'm sorry baby.  Mommy didn't mean to, it was an accident.  I didn't poke you on purpose.  I'm sorry." A few cuddles later all was well.  Later on that day, she stepped on my toe.  When she heard me say ouch, she recited those words right back to me.  "I'm sorry mommy.  I didn't mean to.  It was an accident. I didn't do it on purpose."  Talk about perspective.

I'm refocused on my fitness, again.  And I'm blogging back on the other site again, I've got to do better with my life decisions.  And writing about it keeps me accountable.


Week 1 Results

And the results are in!  During week 1 I lost a whopping 1.2 pounds.  I will admit that this weight loss reflects my efforts.  I did right but I could've put in much more effort.  Other than my personal trainer toddler I did no exercise.  And my husband made hot links which I ate the night before weigh in.  And the night before the night before.  LOL.

Week 1 - Lost 1.2 pounds, Total loss 1.2 pounds, current weight 249.6
Starting Weight 250.8

Let us not speak of my pedicure situation. 
Tomorrow I start Couch to 5 K.  The obvious question is why?  I hate running.  But I also hate all exercise.  I'm kind of fascinated by running though, I'm not sure what is is, but I'm in awe of runners.  And I'm actually buying the app which is saying A LOT for me.  (Also saying a lot is the husband speaking to me in hushed tones because apparently looking for the right app was making me look crazy.  "Why are you doing that?!?" )

Ok, in the quest to be honest I didn't REALLY pay for it, I got an iTunes gift card for Christmas from work

Monday, May 19, 2014

In the beginning

For Christmas (yes, I know it was 6 months ago) one of my favorite people in the whole wide world made me and my daughter matching aprons.  Totally the best thing ever.  I was so happy, I was going to send her a pic of us wearing them.


When I saw this photo I was horrified.  Hor-ri-fied!!!!!!  Sure it's a bad angle (photographs should be taken from slightly above, this is from below) but that doesn't account for how wide I am.  I never sent it.  Instead, I sent one of the baby solo.

The me I see in the mirror doesn't match what's shown above.  I obviously think a little too highly of myself because me in the mirror is at least 30 pounds lighter.  I said I was getting my life together.  I was going to lose 50 pounds before my birthday.  And I did right for a couple of days and then went right back to eating my feelings.  My feelings are bad and they must be punished with food.

I restarted in February.  Same pep talk, this time with photographic evidence of my scale bending weight

Same thing.  I did right for a couple of weeks max, then went back to self medicating.  In fact, I was super happy when I found a lunch spot with a giant slice of pizza and a pop for less than $4.  That wasn't a good thing.

A month or so ago, the husband and I went to a wedding.  We had a nice time, I even wore a dress.  And then we stood really far apart when we embraced because of the 9 months of fat I am close to delivering.


This is the beginning of my weight loss journey.  I deserve better than this.  So does my family.  It's time for me to do better.

Week 1 overview

Tomorrow morning I officially weigh in for the first week of getting my life together. I started off super strong and then relaxed a bit. Staying focused is going to be so important in this journey.

Yesterday my husband made my favorite chicken wings. He smokes them then flash fries them. THE BEST chicken wings ever. I exercised some self control which is way better than normal. 

I can honestly say I didn't exercise. Oops. Well not anything with talking about. I do, however, have a personal trainer. She's 2, but she's tough 

Stand up mommy
Now jump 
Jump!!!!!
Fall on the floor! 
Flip!!!! 
Roll around !!! 
Run!!!!! Run faster!!!

Admittedly, it's working. She gets me off the couch and outside. And she's the best motivator. 

Sunday, May 11, 2014

The Night Before

Today is the day before d day. Which of course means I want to eat six of everything. I didn't. But I wanted to. I ate like a normal person at the barbecue my brother held for Mother's Day.

I have left over chicken Parmesan in the fridge that I'd love to stick in my face. But I'm being strong.  

We played Just Dance or some other dancing game at my brother's house. The good news is I did cardio without passing out, twice! The bad news is when I watched the playback it appeared as though I had two sets of boobs. Your muffin top shouldn't look like extra boobs. That's not a muffin, that's a pound cake. 

And I appreciated the inspiration  I can do better. I will do better. 

Saturday, May 10, 2014

Restart

I started this blog nearly a year ago.  When I realized that a combination of factors was allowing me to pile the weight on.  I got it.  But I didn't get it.

Today, May 10, 2014 I weigh 250 pounds.  That's an outrageous number.  That's what I weighed when I was 9 months pregnant.  I can't blame this weight on my pregnancy.  First, my baby is 2.  Second, I lost all that baby weight rather quickly.

What did cause my weight gain?

  • Not putting the effort into eating right
  • Making several hundred excuses and rationalizing everything.  
  • Eating all of my feelings
Last year I was stressed about money, stressed about life in general and pressed for time.  Since that time I've gotten a new job with a higher salary, but a worse commute and my husband lost his job. All that equals stress.  I've dealt with that stress with pizza, tacos and more pizza.  In fact, I was beyond thrilled that I found a place where I can get a slice of pizza and a pop for $3.78.  Hey!  That's even affordable.  And I feel some kind of odd comfort in being able to sit in a restaurant and read.  Very odd.  In fact, I think I'm partially addicted to that as well.  

The truth is, I've been lazy.  I've juggled the other things in my life and just let this one go.  It's warm and I have only a hand full of things that I can fit.  This isn't ok.  My weight isn't ok.  The fact that I'm getting winded because of all of this extra weight isn't ok.  I have to do better.  Eating better is actually not that hard for me, yet I don't do it.  I need to kick my own ass.  

At the beginning of the year I said I wanted to lose 50 pounds by my birthday in September.  I've made 0 progress on this goal.  

So I'm back to charting.  I joined Weight Watchers a while ago, now it's all about actually tracking the points.   I'm going to get in some cardio as well, even though I hate cardio with a passion.  I have to do this.  If I don't do this now, I'm going to be one of those women who struggle to walk, who have miserable existences at 45.  That can not be my life.  I can do better.  I will do better.   And I will keep myself accountable here.  

I welcome your comments and support.  

Pics, measurements come on Monday, May 12th.  I'm ready.  

Monday, April 28, 2014

So Many Thoughts

I've been a lax poster lately.  It's not because I haven't had anything to say, in fact, it's just the opposite.  I've had tons to say but haven't taken the time or given the energy to get them down.

Feelings

Learning of the Korean ferry disaster did something to me.  All those kids who did nothing wrong, who didn't deserve the fate that found them, that put their faith in the crew who abandoned them. I feel horrible for the families they left behind, and for all the potential they'll never have a chance to live up to.  It seemed as though I got lost in the feeling of loss here, and then stuff kept adding to it.  Life is so temporary, so fleeting, so short and none of us knows how short it truly is until it's too late.

In the past couple of years people I know have lost kids, parents, spouses and friends.  Some to illness, some to violence some to accidents.  It's maddening and yet provides perspective.  A reminder to never take anything for granted because there's no guarantee that the people you love will be here tomorrow.

Time

Probably directly the result of the feelings mentioned above, I've found myself stressing out about not having enough time.  I know it's a mental thing.  Of course I'm not satisfied with the amount of time I have with my family, but I think that's the case for most working mothers.  I was getting frustrated with not having time (or taking the time) to cook.  (I would totally trade in my current house's layout for a great room off the kitchen where the kid can play while I cook).

I need to go back to freezer cooking, even though it feels like that is a giant time suck as well.  But 8 hours once a month is better than one hour 20 nights.  I guess.

Blacklist

Elizabeth Keen is a dummy.  A big fat dummy.  I'm an episode behind, but I've wanted to hit her in the nose the entire time. The.  Entire.  Time.

Inspired

I have a low tolerance for whiners.  And by low I mean no.  It frustrates me to end to have someone complain about a situation and do absolutely nothing about it.  I distance myself from those people. They're like emotional black holes and will suck the life right out of you. On the other hand, there are people who are warriors.  Who take everything life has thrown at them and continue moving forward.  Who get through despite the odds.  These are the type of people I am in awe of, that I learn from, that inspire me to do better, to be better.  If more people were like this the world would be a much better place.

Tuesday, April 8, 2014

SCANDAL!!!! I Have Questions

For Scandal season 2 I wrote recaps for every episode for a fan site.  I posted quite frequently here too.  Season 3, no posts here, no recaps, but a bunch of miscellaneous Facebook posts. It's not that I wasn't enthused, I just didn't have that kind of time.

That all being said...

If you aren't current on Scandal STOP READING HERE! Unless you don't mind spoilers, then keep right on going.


At the end of season 2, Liv decided to take back her life.  She put her white hat back on, she was going to move forward without Fitz. Aaaaaaaannnnnnddddd then the press hears that Liv was the president's mistress and her world crashed.

Season 3 is the aftermath of the world finding out that she and Fitz were bumping uglies.  It's not a pretty picture for Liv.  Her clients bail right and left, her business is in shambles and the White House and her gladiators are actively framing someone else. During Season 3, Liv finds out that her mom isn't really dead, that she's probably a terrorist and that everyone she loves is a murderer.  She's not dealing with all of this well.  And maybe no one would.  Instead of the Olivia that seems to be kicking ass now and taking names later, we have this weak, easily misled, vulnerable, naive character that I do not like.

Liv is back to working for the White House because she's not exactly in demand right now.  And she's back to sleeping with Fitz because apparently he has magical wang of awesomeness.  And her life is sucking. She's got a vendetta against super goon squad B6316, but doesn't really have a good reason as to why. Sure they've killed a bunch of people but they serve a purpose.

So here we stand:


  • Fitz is still being Fitz.  Big on game, low on substance.  Super low.  In fact, he pretty much ruins everyone that loves him.  Mellie, Liv, those kids, miscellaneous staffers, that one press secretary that caught one of his bullets.  He's a life ruiner.  
  • Huck is trying really hard.  He kind of loves Quinn even though their "love" scenes are kind of gross.  He wants to kill everyone but he's mostly held it together.  He was able to hack and bring down the super goon squad in about 37 minutes, I'm sure he could've figured out a way to do it sooner. 
  • Rowan/Earl/Daddy Pope has the best monologues in the history of ever.  He's like Shakespeare. He's playing Liv for a fool though. I respect his hustle. 
  • Momma Pope has a bad weave and a misshaped head, unfortunately I can not get past this. I'm sure she is super awesome and an ultimate killer and WU TANG and all that, but can she not find oil sheen? I can't support someone who has weave that is that dry.  Sorry. 
  • Jake is an ultimate killer and has exponentially increased in hotness since he stopped acting like a punk.  Yes this means I need therapy.  I'm accepting donations. 
  • Harrison got some this season which is a step up from nowhere. I wouldn't be surprised if he gets killed off in light of all of his personal issues. I wouldn't miss him. 
Questions I have: 

  • Who ordered the hit on Fitz? We know Adnan is working for someone and she hired Momma Pope. Considering she with the dry tracks had only been out of the pokey for like 13 minutes I'm not sure how that works but whatever.  I'm thinking Earl/Rowan/DP has orchestrated everything. 
  • What is it going to take for Mellie to tell Fitz about hes brother/son "Bro-son".  Now that would be good tv. 
  • Who has a master wang that can push up on Liv so she can get over Fitz?  
  • Who did Jake swear in a couple of episodes ago?  I hope it's someone we never would've thought of, like Fitz's poor secretary. 
Only two episodes left.  Hopefully regular Liv is back for season 4. 

Tuesday, April 1, 2014

Disney Issues

I've got issues with Walt Disney.  Well, not as a person.  Well, not anymore.

For the longest time I though Walt Disney had a million mother issues.  After all, all of his movies killed off the mother, sometimes both parents.  Snow White - had no mommy.  Ariel - Don't remember a mommy. Bambi - mother burnt to a crisp. Mowgli - No parents.  Then, I learned that Walt Disney's movies weren't his original ideas and were adaptations of other stories.  In fact, they were often softened.  Ok, my bad Walt.  

My problem with Disney movies is that they make me cry.  Cry.  Not that kind of cute one tear cry either.  Like weep.  I'm not driven by emotion but I seem to have gotten more than my fair dose of empathy.  

For example, when I saw Nemo for the first time I was devastated in the first 10 minutes.  Poor Marlin, thought he had a wife and a family around the bend.  Then NOPE.  Life kicked him in the teeth and robbed him of all of his happiness, except for one egg.  TRAGIC! 

Ladybug loves story time.  It's her favorite thing ever.  Sometimes she reads the books (my favorite thing ever), sometimes I do.  She picks out her books for the night.  Last night, she selected her books including this one. 


No big deal right?  Even though that 5 minute thing is a blatant lie, just like Rachel Ray and her 30 minute meals.  Liars.  

On page one, Ladybug has a question.  "Where's Nemo's Mommy?"  I have an internal flashback of what happened to Nemo's Mommy and immediately want to hold Nemo's daddy.  Oh the horror of it all.  

"Away"

Ladybug was fine with that answer. Who knew the tough questions started so soon. 

Sunday, March 23, 2014

If I Could Do Magic

If I could do magic, I'd choose a different adventure in the Choose Your Own Adventure book of life. Of course, there is the risk that I'd fall off a cliff or something, or get bitten by a poisonous snake.  Or maybe I'd win the lotto and could live in the seven mile area of Grand Caman (thanks House Hunters International).

This would do just fine. 


If I could do magic, I'd make these stress eating pounds disappear and get my spine to act right.  Also, no more ingrown toenails.  And no more teenwolf facial hair.

Yes, please thread all of this.  I know I know.  I was here last week.  I'm sorry.

If I could do magic, I'd make spring show up because winter has overstayed its welcome and I'm over wearing my winter coat.  Over it!!!!

If I could do magic, I'd teleport to work or have a driver or a helicopter.

If I could do magic, I'd be able to write full time and still be able to have lights and food.  Primarily food.  Food is really important to me.  Probably more important than it should be given that there was never a famine in the land.

If I could do magic, I'd find that missing plane.  I cannot imagine what the families of those people are going through.

If I could do magic, it'd be easier for me to ask for help without feeling like the biggest failure in life.

But I can't do magic. I'm a regular person.

I will make the best of every situation because my life is actually pretty awesome.

I will continue to eat better because this weight has got to get the hell up off me.

I will put that coat on because pneumonia is not what's up.

I will continue to work my side hustle until it becomes the main hustle.

I will continue to pray for the love ones of the missing plane.

I will continue to ask for help when I need it, even when other people make it not easy and make me feel as though I should be omnipresent and omnipotent.  I am human.  I can not do it all alone.  I should not have to.  I do not have to.   Even though I'm quite the bad ass :-)

This is the best most bad ass unicorn ever.  I totally need this as a super small tiny little miniature tattoo.


Tuesday, March 11, 2014

49 days

7 weeks really isn't that long of a time period really.  If someone said, oh I'm going on vacation in 7 weeks, you'd probably think, oh that's not that long from now and what weirdo counts in weeks?!?!

7 weeks, 49 short days.

Unless it's been 7 weeks since your last period. Then 7 weeks is an eternity.


Before fertility, my cycles were fairly irregular, anywhere between 5 and 6 weeks.  Since Ladybug, they've been much more in sync, typically between 28 and 32 days.  And suddenly nothing. I didn't think too much of it until day 40.  And then I started to freak out...

You see.  Child care costs roughly a million dollars.  I don't have a million dollars.   Not even half a million, or a quarter of a million.  I did find $5 in my jacket pocket earlier in the week, but I'm pretty sure that doesn't count.

Day 43 rolled around.  I start doing some calculations.  I'd be due 10/28, exactly 1 week after I became eligible for FMLA.  I calculated how long I'd be able to be on leave, how much extra benefits would cost, contemplated nursery options given the left over paint we have from previous projects.

Totally doable.  Well the paint.  Furniture would have to materialize out of thin air
Day 45 I tire of trying to explain to myself why my boobs hurt.  It can't be normal to feel like your nipple is going to shoot off your body.  I buy tests. But I do not pee on them.   Only suckas pee on tests.  I feel full, like I did when I was on fertility meds and had huge follicles before ovulation.

Day 47.  I can pretend no longer.  I realize that I need to start taking vitamins and marvel at the fact that my ovaries decided to get their act together.   I tell Jethro that I'm late (I'm like Fort Knox), he is unimpressed.   

Then I do what I spent three years doing.  Peeing on a stick and waiting.  I stared at it for 3 minutes.   

And then I did what I spent three years doing.  Looked at a negative.  

The best way to describe the feeling was both relief because money troubles are not fun and disappointment that my body was being wonky again. 

Day 49.  It arrives.  No fanfare.  No anything.  Just back again.  

And back to the doctor I go.

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I'm a 30-something wife, mom and pet parent. I've been blogging since 2004, at first solely on a blog for my friends and family. I love to write about everything. I can't say that A Bacon Flavored Life is about any one thing. If it occurs to me, it'll get posted. I write about life, love, infertility and a lot of "random".


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