Every weekend should have a third day to recover

Often working parents try and cram so much family time, and fun quality activities in on the weekends that by the time we sit down to relax, it is but a few hours from Monday.

As I mentioned, yesterday was the chocolate-themed bridal shower, and I somehow morphed into an alien and was able to avoid all things chocolate. There were about 57 chocolate bars, 10 different kinds of Hershey kisses, and M&Ms a plenty. There was a fondue fountain with brownies, mini chocolate chip cookies, graham crackers, marshmallows, and fresh fruit. There were these:

(Keith, the groom, is Scottish. As in from Scotland. With an accent. Like Shrek. We love him.)

and these

and this:

(Is this not the coolest cake you have ever seen? Lauren and Keith met when Lauren said "Nice lookin' burger you've got there" to Keith on a train in Europe)

And I had not one bite. I tried to eat a lot of fruit and drink a lot of water, and focus on the shower, and making Lauren happy. I was the card collecter/trash thrower-outer.

She looked great, and even asked for that god-forsaken bow hat I forbade my friends from making me wear.

All in all, I think it turned out great and I hope she enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed the one she helped throw for me a few years ago.

Then, today was the autism walk for Alex. Our team raised over $2,000. We all had our T-shirts and hung out before the walk being goofy:

The weather was awesome, and I was proud to be there for MaryTara.

After we finished the walk, Mike and I took the baby on some boardwalk rides for the first time. I rode with her on the carousel.

But she went on three other rides all by herself (baby rides that just went around in circles) and the only one she didn't like was the Nemo one, which went up and down. The trucks were her favorite and she kept yelling "weee, weee, weee."

Then, we ate dinner at a rooftop beach restaurant

and ended the night with ice cream (fat-free sugar-free for us) and chocolate lollipop.

And now, I am going to go pass out.

Rest on the weekends is for the weak!

This afternoon is my friend Lauren's bridal shower. I'm a bridesmaid and we've all been working really hard to give her an awesome shower. Since she has always been obsessed with all things chocolate, we decided to give her a chocolate-themed shower. I can't give too much away in case she reads this this morning, but just know I will be using every ounce of willpower I have not to induce myself into a diabetic coma and gain back the 7 lbs I lost these last two weeks.

Tomorrow, we walk for Alex. With all of the generous donations from my friends, family, and you wonderful people, I was able to raise $490, just $10 shy of my $500 goal, as of this morning. As a total group, all of us who walk as Alex's Army have raised $1,706.14 (random, huh?) just about $300 shy of our $2000 goal. We still have a day left! But, I won't be disappointed if we don't raise anymore, because hell, we did a great job. More importantly, I had people emailing me from other people's blogs who linked my post telling how how proud and happy they were I was doing this because their daughter/son/brother/sister/niece/nephew has autism. I made people aware. And sometimes, that is half the battle.

I'll post pictures tomorrow night of both events and let you know if I needed medical attention.

And for those of you who demanded asked for me Banana Muffins O' Glorious Goodness (yes, that's what I call them), Here it is:

Ingredients

3/4 c. Splenda for Baking Blend
2 heaping Tbsp Sunsweet Lighter Bake
3 egg whites
2 1/2 overripe bananas (smushed)
3/4 c. FF Stonyfield Farms French Vanilla yogurt
2 3/4 c. whole wheat flour
1 1.4 tsp. baking soda
2 tsp. vanilla extract
1 tsp. salt
1 tsp. ground cinnamon
1 tsp. nutmeg (optional)
3/4 c. chopped walnuts (optional)

Oven to 350.
Mix the Splenda and the Lighter Bake until blended
Add egg whites, yogurt, vanilla, and bananas. Mix until smooth.
Stir in flour, salt, cinnamon, and baking soda.
Add in nutmeg and nuts if wanted.

Makes approximately 12 muffins. Bake for 25-35 mins or until tops are no longer "gooey."

I haven't figured out the calories, fat, etc., yet, but will soon. My sister is on Weight Watchers and has access to the Recipe Builder. I'm going to guess that these are around 1 pt each if you follow WW.

You can also use just plain sugar if you avoid artificial things (but use 1 1/4 c. instead). And you don't have to use the Stonyfield Farms yogurt. I like it because it has three active cultures, and is totally organic, without hormones, and tastes the best.

Also, this is much much easier in the KitchenAid, which I hope you all have. If you do not, put it on your Christmas list. It's one of those things I have that I had no idea how I lived without it. Also, I love it with the walnuts, and they are great cut and spread with cream cheese. They are a bit denser than regular muffins because of the whole wheat flour, but they really are so good!

Let me know if you make them and how they come out!

They're not ucky, I swear

After the latest batch of bananas had at least four that were rapidly turning brown, I told Mike I was going to make banana muffins. He smiled with glee and then made sure we had cream cheese in the house. And then I told him I was going to make "healthy banana muffins" instead.

He whined and cried like a three-year old, "But they're gonna be yucky. Whole-wheat flour tastes like ass."

Tough. I was making them anyway. We are healthy people. We go to the gym. We eat fish and lean meat and fruits and vegetables. I'm not going to undo our hard work and healthy eating habits because I have four brown bananas. My normal recipe calls for 1/4 c. of butter, 3 eggs, 1 c. sugar, and almost 3 c. flour. Then, while in the supermarket this morning, I saw this:

(Clicking the picture will take you to the site for the info on it)

I've often substituted applesauce for oil in some recipes to make them healthier, but had never seen this before. The ingredients are: fruit puree, water, dried plums and apples (and some preservative), but that's it. So I bought it. And I tweaked my recipe. I used the Lighter Bake instead of the butter, Splenda 1/2 for Baking instead of the sugar, whole wheat flour instead of all-purpose. Fat free yogurt instead of regular.

And ya know what? My healthy banana muffins came out fantastic, and nothing like ass. Even the baby loves them. She even pulled one off the counter and then cried like we killed her Melmo when we took it away from her (we want her to be hungry when we go out to dinner in an hour and she just had a snack, we're not evil).

So there!

(If you'd like to try the recipe, let me know).

It's a dog's life

We are dogsitting again for our cousin's Bulldog/Mastiff. They are in California on vacation, and since we're losers and always home, we gladly offered to help.

His name is Chief and he is an incredibly sweet dog. He and our dog Pandora are only weeks apart in age and have grown up at the same doggie daycare and playing together, so they get along swimmingly.

He comes from a home where both people dote on him and there are no children yet - he is the baby and his goofy personality shows this. He is allowed on furniture and beds, and thinks he is a lap dog. I think he missed the memo where he was told he was 80 lbs. He follows me everywhere. While it's cute, I can't go but two feet without this up my butt:



How can you not love that face though?

He is also the laziest em-effer dog I have ever met. I literally had to pull him down the stairs at 11 pm last night to go out because he was cozily nestled upstairs. I'm used to my dog's personality - a little bit if crazy with a sprinkle of neurotic. Play, play, outside? play play, more, food, play, treat, PLAY PLAY PLAY! Chief is more like "do, de doo, de dolddily doo, do I have to go outside to pee? Can't I just do it here? I am so warm and comfortable."

Pandora loves having a playmate and I will be sad to see him go on Sunday.

However, I will not be sad when his ass leaves, as I have not smelled anything as wretched as his farts. They should be bottled and used to torture and interrogate war criminals.

Wordless Wednesday

Quads and Gluts and Triceps, Oh My!

I am a masochist.

Felt great yesterday so I decided to run for the first mile of my cardio.

THEN, I felt super great, so I upped the weights on my tricep pulls (no more bird flaps, people!), and added in 50 squats for good measure. On top of my normal circuit training.

Seriously folks, I'm having major issues walking down stairs today. Up isn't as bad. But holy jeebus, does it hurt to go down them. I'm now in our basement office working and I think I may stay here until Mike gets home. Then, I will send him to Home Depot to get me a crane and lift me out of here.

I have high hopes of getting to the gym later, at least to do something. Or maybe not.

Anyone watch Chuck last night? I'm not a huge TV person, but this show had me cracking up!

Bad ideas I've had this weekend

1) Upping the weights on the machines at the gym and putting an extra riser under the step during my cardio. It took hours for the nausea to pass.

2) Chugging a beer. In front of people. Oh, woe.

3) Wearing new shoes and standing for 4 hours at a party. But, they were cute. Fashion first, people!

4) Saying, "Hey, let's go to BJs (warehouse store) to get some ketchup and tuna." $320 later, we remind ourselves, "We only got what we need."

5) Letting Charlotte see the secret hiding place for her shoes. She now bangs on the door to the closet where the shoes live, pleading with the voice of a child who's dog just died, "Shoooooooooesssss, shooooooeeeeees." She's obsessed.

6) Drinking four glasses of wine before #2.

7) Drinking enough wine to forget I was only supposed to have one glass and be good on diet and not eat gourmet cheese, baba ghanoush, hummus, chips, crackers and bruschetta. Wine is apparently an excellent way to eliminate all self-control. Who knew?

8) Teaching my kid what those dark things on my chest are when I get out of the shower. She now grabs any breast/nipple in vicinity and yells, "Boobie!!"

9) Thinking I was young enough to drink four glasses of wine, chug a beer, and be a normal human being today.

10) Holding our friend's new 10-week old baby boy. While this in itself is not a mistake, I could just die from how tiny he was and how good he smelled and for the love of Pete, I NEED A NEW ONE!!

Add-on: The playroom (and a casualty)

So we went to Home Depot today - land of testosterone and wood. Ha, that sounded naughty made me snicker. I'm such a dork. Moving on.

We went by the wall decor section and Charlotte starting demanding "sisshies, sissssshhiiiiess," which loosely translates to "give me that thing with the fish on it in the next three seconds or I will throw the mother of all tantrums, possibly bare my teeth, shoot venom from my uvula, and burn you with my eyes." So, of course, we acquiesced, and the playroom now looks like this:

I'm in love with the person who invented these. They stick right on, and peel right off, so if I'm sick of them in about 20 minutes, I can take them off. The genius behind this has a seat in the afterlife with the guy who invented air conditioning and KitKats.

There was, however, an incident.

Look closely:

R.I.P. Fish # 87.

Some law of physics

How come you can never get two kids to look at the camera at the same time?

Look left!

Look here! Left! No, Here! Right!

Straight! No, Right!

And when you finally manage to get one shot, where both kids are looking at the camera, your nephew looks as cute as can be, but your own baby looks like she just woke up from a three day bender with a man name Mr. Cuervo (whom, by the way, I no longer speak to).

Ta-Da!!!

We are finally finished the playroom. Woot! Whoever lived here before us was an asscake. He painted the shelves and molding a dark hunter green color. The walls were tan. It took eight, yes EIGHT coats, including two of primer to get the shelves to look half decent, and truthfully, they could probably use one or two more. But I figured if we put ourselves through that, there would either be blood or divorce, neither of which is very good. So, we decided "pretty good" was good enough. We finally put together some new shelves that my grandmother gave Charlotte for her birthday and hung the hammock thingie for the eleventy billion stuffed animals she has.

All in all, I'm pretty proud of us, and our marriage for surviving such a harrowing ordeal. Check it:

I still want to hang up pictures and put up some of those sticker things that you can put on and take off at will. I also want to get some curtains.

Just little things. I am going to go pass out now.

Autumn

The past few days in New Jersey have been the kind of late summer days where autumn is pushing through the door, nudging a chill in the air and leaving an a aroma of newly sharpened pencils. The sun still warms the days but the nights are cold, frosting over the windows, forcing us to bring our hibiscus and ivy inside to keep warm.

These days make me want to pick pumpkins and drink tea while watching my baby play in piles of leaves. The leaves have yet to turn and still cling to their green hue. But it's coming; I can feel it. I can feel autumn coming the way I can feel a cold brewing. It starts in the back of my throat, softly scratching. At times, you forget it's there as you carry on your day, unaware that change is coming. And then, it is full blown, the chill has settled for the long haul, and you yearn for the warmth of the dewy summer nights, sticky arms, frizzy hair, mosquitoes and all. But for now, it is just coming.

I love the first few weeks of autumn. The sun still rises with me in the morning and stays up with the baby until her bedtime. They kiss each other ni-nigh and darkness finds them both. On my way to work, the sun is so bright, everything shines and sparkles. The glitter and gleam from truck mirrors and aluminum bumpers causes traffic - this "sun glare." I think it looks like the worlds is alive, dancing with diamonds in the morning light, waking up the world to a new day. On my way home, the sky turns shades of lavender, orange, and pink, etching stark lines as the sun sets down the highway to a place I won't reach, because I turn off the exit home to my family before I can catch the horizon in my hand.

Sometimes on these perfect autumn days, you can see the moon and stars chasing the sun, which is still painting the crisp sky, and it is in these moments that I stop being angry and I marvel at the world. The world we live in. The world I brought my daughter into. The world that, one day, she will make a difference in.

It will be better because of her.

Overheard in my living room

"You can't use phase cannons in warp!!"

I hate Star Trek.

3, 2, 1, 1, 2, 3, What the heck is bothering me?

How about the fact that after 7 days of gyminus maximus in the past 10 days and eating salads and brown rice and salmon and shiznit (which I actually like, but I have been omitting all cookies, which makes me oh-so-cranky-where's-a-toothpick-so-I-can-poke-you-in-the-eye), I get on the scale at the gym today and the em-effer HAS NOT moved. Sonofamonkeysuncle!! (trying not to curse in front of baby who already calls socks "cocks" and the cat "titty")

I will keep trucking!! I started my weight loss war/competition with some awesome peeps (yeah, I so can't pull that word off, can I?), which include my husband and sister. I am very proud of my sister for finally starting her weight loss journey (read her new blog Who Made You the Obese Police?). She, like me, has lost many battles against weight and has always failed at her attempts. This time, I am sure she's for real. She got a real scare when the doctor said she'd have a heart attack by 25 if she didn't get healthy. She has a four-year old son and a family that loves her to stick around for. I hope she can see me as some motivation. It took me three years to lose all the original weight, but I kept going and finally got there, and I hope seeing someone who has done it helps. That being said, now that I have a child of my own, I know how much harder it is to eat properly and exercise with the time constraints, and the last 20 lbs jiggling my ass reminds me of this.

But I have stopped making excuses and started really getting my ass in gear with exercise and nutrition. My short-term goal is to lose 15 lbs in 7 weeks. Doubtful, but I can try, and at least I'll get healthy on my way there!

I'm also very proud of my husband, someone who seriously hated the gym and all aspects of it, for his dedication so far. He has gone almost every day with me and has had a personal training session. He even WANTS to go and I think likes how it makes him feel. Of course, he gets on the scale and it's down 5 pounds in a week while I suffer with stagnant weight. But I am happy for him, despite the urge to kick him in the babymaker.

He's at the movies now and the house is quiet. I think I'm going to go go bed early and catch some extra sleepy time. Yeah, that's right, I know how to PAR-tay!

*I will give a prize to the person who can tell me what sitcom the title of my blog is a line from (without google).

Wordless Wednesday

Benefit

As you all know, I am walking for Autism on September 30th. I want to take this time to thank each and every one of you that donated to sponsor me. Your kindness and generosity meant a lot and I am grateful to have you all in my life, online or otherwise.

This past Friday night was a Seaside Soiree Charity Benefit for the cause and to support a program they run every year where the kids get to surf with professionals:

They had the beach set up beautifully with an awesome reggae band and the weather was perfect.

("Model face")

Plus, there was open bar for a while (woot!) and we all took full advantage. We didn't win the drawing for a night out in AC, or any of the silent auctions we bid on. I did, however, get buzzed enough to manage to break the ATM.

Here's us with MaryTara and Kurt, the parents of Alex - the little boy we're walking for.

And despite the hookerosity of my blue bra showing, I really like this picture:

His future's so bright (or he's a huge dork, you choose), he has to wear shades:

So, all in all, it was a great night. I got out without the kid and I drank for charity. Sweet.

In the event of

"Man, my quads are really sore," Mike informs me in the car yesterday, a day after his first training session at the gym.

"I'm sorry. It will get easier. Your quadricep muscles are one of the srongest in your body. They say that if you're ever stuck in a car and or need to move something heavy to lay down and use your legs to kick out the window or move it."

"Really?"

"Yeah, those muscles can get huge."

"Well, it's a good thing I'm getting in shape then. So I could save you or the baby from zombies if I had to."

I couldn't make this up if I tried, people.

Socks, I swear

Charlotte and I had our weekly Target run, where we go in for a few items, and come out dirt poor. Today I went in for Cetaphil face wash (the best stuff ever created), hair spray, shampoo, and condoms. A nice variety. Should not break the bank. And somehow, I was sucked into the vortex of another dimension where I needed new workout pants. I mean, I've gone to the gym FOUR days in a ROW this week, so I definitely could justify that purchase.

And then I made the mistake of walking through the shoe aisle so I could see if they had any boots that would go with the baby's Halloween costume:

And she saw these:


And immediately started screaming "soos, pretty, momma, pretty soos!!!" So, because I suck at parenting love my child didn't want to hear her scream she was a good girl in the store, I bought them for her, and she insisted on wearing them the rest of the trip.

As I walked through the baby section, I remembered she needed wipes, Burt's Bees Baby Wash (the best thing for babies with sensitive skin/eczema, seriously), those gross Gerber raviolis in a can (I at least get the organic ones), fruit snacks, and some new socks since I realized she outgrew most of the ones we have.

We proceed through the store and pass the men's section. Mike needed new underwear because I bought the wrong kind last time. How am I supposed to know they made them without the pee hole? That's the dumbest thing! Why would you NOT want a pee hole? I don't have a wiener and wish I had a pee hole! I digress. So, in the cart those went. Then that reminded me I needed new panties, so I went over to that section and OH GOD - the clearance! Cute panties for only $1.48?!?!!? This is my lucky day, I thought! So, 14 pair went in the cart.

Then we walked past the books and I decided Charlotte needed a new book. Reading is one of my life's passions and even though she has 50 million books, I decided she needed one that made noise. What in the name of all fuckity fuck was I thinking? Someone please hit me directly in the face with a crowbar for that thought. The rest of the excursion, I had to listen to the sounds of Elmo skipping. For. An. Hour.

Anyway, you see how this is going. We get to the register with a whole lot more than originally planned and I begin unloading the cart. Charlotte has a hard time with some "s" words, and instead makes them sound like a "k" sound, but she's barely 16 months yet and has a better vocabulary than this chick, so I don't worry.



The older woman ringing us up is talking to me and Charlotte, asking me how old she is, complimenting how well she talks, etc. And then it happens.

Right on the conveyor belt next to the baby's socks are the box of condoms. The woman grabs for the box to scan it and put it in the bag. Just then, box in hand, Charlotte points to the woman, and with a voice I swear China heard, yells, "COCKS, Momma, COCKS!!"

Red-faced and flustered, the woman quickly drops the condoms in the bag, and while I try and let the blood flow back to my head after momentarily having a seizure from embarrassment, I see that the next item on the belt are her new socks.

"YES, BABY, THOSE ARE SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSOCKS! Good girl! SSSSSSSSSOCKS!!!"

"Cocks!"

We really need to work on that.

New member of the family

Meet Leonardo DiCatrio.




Or, if you will, Leo.



Cronus is not thrilled, but is doing better than expected. I give them a week before they are best friends. The size difference is astounding, but Cronus is over 20 lbs, so any cat is dwarfed in comparison.



More later!

1 in 150

This is the face of Autism:

With her permission, I am writing about my friend MaryTara's son Alex. He is six years old and a caring, empathetic, intelligent, sweet little boy. He is a big brother to Belle, and takes his brotherly duties very seriously.



He loves Webkins, karate, surfing, and all things Disney and can figure out any remote control in seconds, utilizing functions I didn't even know existed.

He is kind and speaks in a gentle tone and has an endless curiosity that is quenched only when he figures out how things work on his own.

And yet, Alex is Autistic. Autism now affects 1 in 150 children, and in New Jersey, the statistics rise to 1 in 96. Many people question why we have a higher rate, and the studies have shown that many people move into this area because of the great school systems and public support for autism, and that there is no outside catalyst to the high number of diagnoses. But the scary fact is that this does exist and it is rising to almost epidemic proportions.

Though not personally affected with a child of autism, having a close friend battle school boards and fight for the best education for her son, I do whatever I can to support her war - and the race for a cure.

This Friday night, we will attend a charity benefit as we did last year.

But more importantly, on Sunday, September 30th, Mike, Charlotte and I will be Walking for Autism. I have set a personal fundraising goal of $500 and so far, through the generosity of my friends and family, and raised $320. I am confident that I will get to my goal, even if I have to go door-to-door.

I'm not asking anyone for money because I know, above all else, how difficult life can be sometimes, and how hard it is to spare even a few extra dollars. If, however, you would like to support the cause and sponsor me in the walk, the link is here. If enough people give even one dollar, it would make a huge impact. Or, if you'd like to see if there are any walks, in your area to participate in, go here.

So, on that Sunday, I join one of the proudest Moms I know who will be walking to help fight a disorder that has chosen her son. We walk as Alex's Army.

Day two

Despite getting up at 5:30 am to sore abs and a baby meowing into the monitor, I went to the gym tonight.

Despite the traffic I sat in both into the office and on my way home, totaling over 3 hours today, and wanting to collapse through the front door, I went to the gym.

Despite leaving at 6:30, when I had only seen my baby for an hour, so I could be home before 9 pm, I went to the gym.

Despite the fact that I'd rather be on my jigglyrific ass blogging or reading my favorite home skillets or a good book, I went to the gym.

And then I had ice cream.


(But it was the Edy's Slow Churned Light Mint Chocolate Chip and it was so tasty and I love it so much and I only had 2/3 of a cup and I even measured it this time, really, I did, and I only liked it a little and it was only this one time and I swear it meant nothing.)

Argh and Hmpf and Stuff

So this morning, I go to Target like I do almost every Friday morning. Thank Sam (we don't do "God," so we've named our deity Sam) that store opens at 8 am. I mean, by 8 most mornings, I've showered, fed the kid, done some laundry, mopped the floor, so 8-9 am is like my noon. C'mon people, momma needs to shop! After spending 150$ on diapers and wipes (sigh), I went to the gym, worked out, and came home, ready to start my workday. Walked in, changed the baby, flicked the light. No light. No microwave, no toaster, NO COMPUTER! Egads! (Does anyone use that word anymore? I love it. I shall bring it back from the dead)

The power was out. Our power goes out like eleventy billion times a year. So much so that we actually went out and bought a generator after the last outage from the Great Valentine's Day Ice Storm of 2007. Funny thing about generators. I have no idea how to work them. Rather than set myself on fire, or douse the house in gasoline, I opted to ride it out. I called the electric company to report the outage. The phonecall went something like this:

Weirdly Jovial Automated Phone Guy (WJAPG): Hi, Thank you for calling JCP&L. If you're calling to report an outage, say "outage."

Me: Outage.

WJAPG: Great! I'll be happy to assist you! Can I please have the number associated with the account you are calling about.

Me: 7-3-2

Baby: Argh, splat, moo cow BOOBOO AAHHH, squee!!!!

WJAPG: I'm sorry. I did not get that. Could you please repeat the phone number?

Me: 7-3-2-9-6

Baby: MAMA! PRETTY!! PIGULD GULPO TROT YUFTA.

WJAPG: I heard 7-3-2-8-4-6-2-3-5-6. Is this correct?

Me: No. Operator.

WJAPG: Could you please repeat your phone number?

Me: 7-3-2-9-6-1

Baby: SHOES! ARGH. BLUBBA RUEG POTAR

WJAPG: I'm sorry. I did -

Me: Shut up. Help. Operator.

WJAPG: I'm sorry. I did -

Baby: Mo tregut klopy do do do do do!

WJAPG: I'm sorry. I did not understand.

Me: I swear, I am going to rip off your pignoli nuts and sautee them with olive oil and garlic. Do you understand that?

WJAPG: How about we try your account number? Please speak the ten digit account number for the address you are calling to report.

Me: I don't have the account number. We get e-bill and my computer is down BECAUSE THERE IS NO FUCKING POWER.

WJAPG: I'm sorry.

Baby: SQUEEEEE!!! Piglug lug lug ooooh!

Me: I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! Operator! Pressing 0 0 0 0 0 0 repeatedly on the keypad.

WJAPG: Let me get someone who can help you. Please hold on.

Me: Thank you sweet baby jeebus.

Real Live Person: Hello, how can I help you?

Me: I love you.

So, it took about 30 seconds for me to tell the actual human being what the problem was as opposed to fighting with the automated system for 10 minutes. Do they realize that the system is not conducive to a house with any sort of noise in the background, like one of the toddler variety who smell like peanut butter?

As you can tell, my power is back on and all is right with the world. Though, when I put the baby down for her nap, I had to leave the door open a crack and sit in the chair closest to the stairs and tip toe around the house. It was like Old School style. No video monitor. No noise machine to drown out every creaky step. I wish my kid wasn't a light sleeper, but she is, so I hunkered down on the chair with a book, a coffee, and within 15 pages, passed the hell out. Quiet is so quiet.

Turn-over-a-new-leaf day

As you all know, I struggle with my weight. I always have and probably always will. It's part of me and I am getting used to it, and it's alright.

The past six weeks I have been unable to go to the gym. I had my back procedure and then my "female" surgery. Because of these two things, I was instructed not to exercise for obvious reasons for six weeks. And today, that six weeks is up.

I got on the scale this morning and have gained 5 pounds. But more importantly, I feel like an ass-cake. I feel all gross and wiggly, tired, and cranky. Going to the gym gave me some time to focus on myself and my body, and in turn, I felt better about them both. The baby enjoyed going to the daycare there and playing with the other kids, and I always felt better for the rest of the day after a good aerobics class or stint on the elliptical. And lately, I feel like doody. And when you feel like crap-on-a-stick, you tend not to be overly cautious about what you put in your body, because, hell, I feel like uck anyways, why not eat this huge piece of cake and feel crappier? It's a downward spiral. But it ends today.

In a miracle of all miracles, I convinced Mr. I-Hate-The-Gym-And-Working-Out to join Gold's Gym with me. I think what convinced him was the cable television on each machine and that that they had weight training classes taught by MEN. I've been trying to get Mike to exercise for years, because although we are both on the large side but not "fat," we both tend to carry our weight in our middles, which as all of you educated folks know is terrible for your heart. We eat healthy 90% of the time - lots of fish and chicken, complex carbs, salads, fruits, and veggies. But our metabolism collectively sucks so bad that every time we splurge on a dinner out, we pay for it almost immediately on the scale and in our waistbands.

Before I got married, I exercised away over 100 pounds. More importantly, I felt great. I was tighter, healthier, and had a ton of energy. When I got pregnant 38.9 seconds after getting married, I truly believe that being the shape as I was in helped me have an awesome pregnancy. Other than the common complaints and some serious swelling towards the end, I felt great, like I could kick anyone's ass. We moved houses and I packed, lifted, and carried boxes. I rearranged furniture. I was WOMAN, damnit!!! I am a creator of life! I will kill you with my pinky toe! And I want my next pregnancy to be as wonderful. I know I can't control everything and not all pregnancies are the same and unexpected things can happen, but CAN I control how I take care of myself before I get pregnant and maybe it will make a difference.

And I miss that. I miss feeling that way. I will never be 100% happy with my body. I have destroyed it by years of being morbidly obese and losing and gaining literally hundreds of pounds. I have stretch marks and loose sagging skin, and even if I eventually get the body tuck surgery, I will still have the scars - the permanent reminder that I ruined myself. I did this to myself. I look at my daughter's perfect little body, with her little belly button sticking out, and lean legs and arms, and just hope she will learn from me that our bodies are a gift, and we need to treat them with respect.

I have a couple more reasons motivating my ass back to the gym. One is Lauren's wedding in November. She is one of my best friends and I want to shine as a bridesmaid, both by being there for her emotionally, but by looking kick-ass in her pictures that she will have for the rest of her life. It's a vain reason, but vanity has its way of kicking your ass into gear. I know that I won't move mountains in the two months until November 3rd, but I could lose a few pounds, tighten up a bit, and feel great.

Another reason is my back. It sucks. My disc in L4-L5 is shot. They have done two disc decompressions to try and relieve some of the pain and pressure. Because of the removal of some of the disc matter, there is very little disc left, and I live every day with some level of pain. I am used to it though and only fall back on my medication at the end of rough days, where I've pushed myself too hard or too far. And after discussing it with my doctor, there aren't anymore options for me medically, unless I want to fuse the vertebrae, which to me, is not an option. I am holding out for technology to catch up and make artificial disc replacements safe and commonplace. In the meantime, the best thing I can do for my back is to lose some more weight (I've got 15-20 lbs to be pre-pregnancy) and strengthen my core muscles which will help support my back. I've hired a personal trainer specifically for this and hopefully it will make a difference.

So this past weekend we splurged on food, had a going away party for our fat selves, and ate like pigs.

And today, we start at our new gym, and hopefully begin a healthier journey to a better life.

Holiday Weekend round-up

For most people, and all of my friends, Labor Day weekend means an end-of-summer blowout. It means going to the beach house, drinking all day, sleeping late, going out to dinner. For me, it means two days practically alone with Charlotte, who thankfully is in a much better mood, except has decided the past two weeks or so that 5:30/6:00 a.m. is a wonderful time to wake up. It is SO not.

Mike has taken to volunteering to work holidays rather often the past couple of years, usually at my urging. My office is closed on holidays, which means I can stay home with the baby. Also, he gets paid for 20 hours for every holiday he works, which is hard to turn down. And my theory is this: if he offers to work the holidays where nothing important is going on, like Memorial Day, Labor Day, etc., or when he has worked Christmas or Thanksgiving two years in a row (I was pregnant and the baby was a newborn), he could pull out that card when I want him off for those holidays this year. He can say "Well, I worked every holiday for the past two years. I want off this Thanksgiving and Christmas." And it has worked so far. As of now, he is off for at least Christmas.

The weekend has been pretty good overall though. Friday night, Bridget and Rachel came over and we got some bridal shower planning done. Despite the wine we drank, food we ate, and the Wii bowling we played, we actually got a lot accomplished. The Wii was Mike's anniversary present. How cool of a wife am I?

Saturday morning, Mike's parents took us all out to breakfast, where the baby kept herself occupied by gnawing open creamer buckets, and drinking their contents. I figure, she was being quiet and could use the calories, so why intervene? Then my sister and nephew came and picked up Charlotte to go shopping and watch her for the night so Mike and I could go out and celebrate our anniversary. First, we saw Superbad, which was so damn funny. I can quickly see it becoming one of those quotable movies, like Napoleon Dynamite (What's a liger? It's pretty much my favorite animal. - it's like a lion and tiger mixed - bred for its skills and magic) or Dumb and Dumber (We got no food. We got no jobs! Our pets heads are falling off!!) or Old School (I see Blue. He looks gloooooorious).

Then, we went to Pier Village - a trendy little seaside village with shops and restaurants right on the water, where Mike walked me into a jewelry store and picked out these and bought them for me. Hello, DIAMONDS!!

I love them. I am just afraid to wear them. They don't have screwbacks like my other diamond studs (which you can actually see on the dresser in the picture) and I don't worry about falling out. I will just be super duper careful.

Then we went to a nice bar on the water (McLoone's to those of you who live by me) and had some drinks, calamari, shrimp, and sushi. We talked about our marriage and our life and laughed over our goofy child, who endlessly amuses us, with antics such as this:

Gimme your purse lady, and no one gets hurt!

She found her newborn cap, put it on, and stole my purse. Doesn't she look like a hoodlum? Cracks. Me. Up.

Anyway, then we walked along the water back to the car and stopped at the Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory where they literally dip everything in chocolate. I had a chocolate covered Oreo and Rice Krispie treat. Yeah, I know. I'm a fatty bom-batty. It was my anniversary. Back to the gym tomorrow.

We had a great night and I am glad we got to go out alone together. It was much needed and I am overwhelmed sometimes at how much in love I am with my husband

Yesterday, while Mike worked, I did the food shopping for the week, and took the baby to the park, where she loved the swings best.

(Check out the spit line.)

Then, I made Mike an anniversary dinner of apricot glazed salmon, roasted root vegetables, steamed king crab legs, and artichokes with drawn butter. Granted, we had to eat with a baby who refused to keep her diaper on clawing at our legs, but at least we ate before 9 pm this time.

I also made homemade sauce with tomatoes and herbs from the garden for a spaghetti and meatball dinner tonight. I figure working two 12-hour shifts in a row is no fun for anyone, so the least I can do is have a nice dinner to come home to each night.

He deserves it.

Anniversary

Today is our wedding anniversary.



I could go on and on about how wonderful of a husband Mike is or what a kind, caring father he is, but I hope that comes across in everything I say or do.

So, just know that I am aware how truly lucky I am and I don't take one second for granted.

I love you, babe.