Not to sound all Valerie Whats-Her-Name on the Jenny Craig commercials, buuuuut . . . this is the first year in a long, long, long time that I have not had a New Years Resolution that has anything to do with losing weight.
I'm not shedding tears over it (a la Valerie) but it feels pretty damn good.
Even last year when I was around 20 weeks pregnant at New Years, I made a resolution to lose weight (and look good in my favorite little black dress by the following NYE -- not that I'm going anywhere, but I could still rock that dress if I wanted to!). The year before that? Lose weight. The year before that? Lose weight (that one was halted when I found out I was pregnant just 6-7 weeks into the year). The year before that? Yeah. Lose weight.
So it feels good -- very, very good -- to know that my number one resolution does not have a thing in the world to do with my weight.
So, here they are. My New Years Resolutions:
1) Nag Hubs until he finishes the attic so we can start storing things up there (this is number one for two reasons: the first being that if he waits too late to do it it will be way too stifling hot to get it done and the second being that, well, he has to do that so that I can do my second resolution).
2) Completely organize and clean out my garage.
3) Re-organize my kitchen cabinets and de-clutter the junk drawer(s).
4) GET BUFF!
5) Take advantge of the classes offered at our community rec center.
6) Maintain my weight loss -- not weigh more than 145 pounds.
Six resolutions. All manageable (I hope).
Bring it on, 2009!
Monday, December 29, 2008
Sunday, December 28, 2008
I received a Christmas miracle on the 24th.
I stood on the scale that morning and what flashed back at me? 140. 140 even at that. No point anything. Just 140. Christmas miracle. That's the only way I can describe it.
Of course, that was several days, several cookies, and several picks at leftovers ago. I'll wait a week or so for any "official" post-Christmas weighing in.
Honestly, though, I deserve to pack on a few pounds. Thursday, Friday, and Saturday I ate almost constantly. A nibble on fudge here, sampling the mashed potatoes there . . . and then on Friday "sick" of the turkey so a trip to Buffalo Wild Wings (but, alas, not sick enough of the turkey to not eat it that night!). I missed the memo that said you're supposed to indulge but not OVER indulge. I was all on the over stuff this year.
I stood on the scale that morning and what flashed back at me? 140. 140 even at that. No point anything. Just 140. Christmas miracle. That's the only way I can describe it.
Of course, that was several days, several cookies, and several picks at leftovers ago. I'll wait a week or so for any "official" post-Christmas weighing in.
Honestly, though, I deserve to pack on a few pounds. Thursday, Friday, and Saturday I ate almost constantly. A nibble on fudge here, sampling the mashed potatoes there . . . and then on Friday "sick" of the turkey so a trip to Buffalo Wild Wings (but, alas, not sick enough of the turkey to not eat it that night!). I missed the memo that said you're supposed to indulge but not OVER indulge. I was all on the over stuff this year.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
New Years Resoluting
A few years back, when the big 3-0 seemed way, way, way off I made a list: "Thirty Things to do Before I Turn Thirty." It included a few typical single girl things (i.e. 'kiss an Asian guy'), at least one thing that'll never happen ('watch the Yankees play at Yankee Stadium'). And now that I'm just a little less than a year and a half from turning 30, quite a few "what the hell was my 24-year-old self thinking?" things.
Included amongst these?
Join a gym and actually take a class!
The joining of the gym isn't a problem. I love gyms. I've belonged to several of them. I love that I can hop on a treadmill or eliptical or a whatever, pop my headphones on, and cardio away while I'm secretly stealing glances at the hotties on the weight machines.
The whole "actually take a class" thing is where my problem lies.
Me + Classes that involve athleticism and/or coordinatio = Disaster.
The last time I took a class of any variety was Spring Break of 1999. I was a freshman in college, almost 19 years old, and on my first vacation that did not include either my parents or a church youth minister. I had done all the grown up things. Saved the money for the trip myself, requested time off for work, packed my own suitcase, the whole nine.
The trip was five days in Leadville, Colorado, scaling the slopes of Ski Cooper.
It seemed like a good idea when I agreed to go.
Seemed being the key word.
I had never skied before and everyone weighed in that "Ski School" would be a really great idea. So I signed up. There were ten or twelve of us on the trip together and only one other who had never skied before. He was a guy named Rob, a guy who would later pretend he had no idea who I was when I became the Ski School Retard. I'm pretty sure I messed up his mack a time or two. "Hey, is that girl . . . the one who fell down again with your group?"
Poor Rob.
And poor me!
Ski School was one humiliation after another. Five year old children and 80 year old grandmas in that class did better than I did. I spent the entire hour or so of it either on my ass or sliding backward downhill, my face crimson with embarrassment, and thinking that all I really wanted to do was head to the lodge for some hot chocolate (spiked hot chocolate).
So, yeah, classes and I don't do too well.
It's not just ski school either. I can remember some particuarly cringe-worthy moments playing badmitton in high school PE. I absolutely love sports, but I'm more of an onlooker than an active participant.
But, yesterday in the mail I got a flyer from our community's recreation center. It ran down a list of all the classes and two or three popped out at me. Pilates . . . could be interesting. Spinning . . . always wanted to try that. Kickboxing . . . Hell yeah!
So maybe it's time to swallow my pride, make a New Year's resolution, and scratch something off that 30 Things list . . .
Included amongst these?
Join a gym and actually take a class!
The joining of the gym isn't a problem. I love gyms. I've belonged to several of them. I love that I can hop on a treadmill or eliptical or a whatever, pop my headphones on, and cardio away while I'm secretly stealing glances at the hotties on the weight machines.
The whole "actually take a class" thing is where my problem lies.
Me + Classes that involve athleticism and/or coordinatio = Disaster.
The last time I took a class of any variety was Spring Break of 1999. I was a freshman in college, almost 19 years old, and on my first vacation that did not include either my parents or a church youth minister. I had done all the grown up things. Saved the money for the trip myself, requested time off for work, packed my own suitcase, the whole nine.
The trip was five days in Leadville, Colorado, scaling the slopes of Ski Cooper.
It seemed like a good idea when I agreed to go.
Seemed being the key word.
I had never skied before and everyone weighed in that "Ski School" would be a really great idea. So I signed up. There were ten or twelve of us on the trip together and only one other who had never skied before. He was a guy named Rob, a guy who would later pretend he had no idea who I was when I became the Ski School Retard. I'm pretty sure I messed up his mack a time or two. "Hey, is that girl . . . the one who fell down again with your group?"
Poor Rob.
And poor me!
Ski School was one humiliation after another. Five year old children and 80 year old grandmas in that class did better than I did. I spent the entire hour or so of it either on my ass or sliding backward downhill, my face crimson with embarrassment, and thinking that all I really wanted to do was head to the lodge for some hot chocolate (spiked hot chocolate).
So, yeah, classes and I don't do too well.
It's not just ski school either. I can remember some particuarly cringe-worthy moments playing badmitton in high school PE. I absolutely love sports, but I'm more of an onlooker than an active participant.
But, yesterday in the mail I got a flyer from our community's recreation center. It ran down a list of all the classes and two or three popped out at me. Pilates . . . could be interesting. Spinning . . . always wanted to try that. Kickboxing . . . Hell yeah!
So maybe it's time to swallow my pride, make a New Year's resolution, and scratch something off that 30 Things list . . .
Monday, December 15, 2008
Woman Cannot Live on Jello Alone
About three years ago, I came down with a case of strep throat so severe that I missed a week of work and dropped ten pounds. When I came back to work, my jeans finally fit again (it had been a 'OMG! Sonic has that again?' type of summer and I had packed on much more than 10 pounds) and everyone sort of did a double take and asked, "Did you lose weight?" Why, yes, I did. I joked around that I was going to figure out a way to bottle the stuff and sell it on Ebay.
And, once again, the dreaded stuff has hit. And while I may not bottle it and sell it . . . maybe I can just put an ad on Craigslist to breathe on anyone interested in dropping weight FAST before the holidays?
I started feeling just icky late Thursday night. I had noticed a bit of a sore throat earlier in the evening, but late that night it just hit me. I told Hubs I was really, really tired and by the time I laid down I was jittery and achy. Fun stuff. I spent all of Friday wishing for death and debating on whether or not to call the doctor.
I hate doctors. I decided against it.
Felt better Saturday and Sunday and then, last night, my fever spiked once again. *Sigh* So to the doct-ah doct-ah Mr. MD today.
Strep throat.
*Pokes fork in eye*
On the plus, it's almost gone and I have an antibiotic that'll take out the little bit that's left. On the minus, I'm beating myself up for NOT going in sooner and praying fervently that neither of my boys get it.
I weighed in Thursday morning at 145.8 pounds (I like to keep my weight at 144.4 and this was the third or fourth consecutive day of the 145.8 weigh-in. I was getting pissed). This morning. 141.4. Ye-owch! That's nearly four and a half pounds in just four days! Sheesh. That's what tends to happen when you eat nothing but Jello.
And, hello! Not that I've wanted to eat anything but Jello. If I have no appetite, then you KNOW I'm sick. Especially this time of year with all the goodies to taunt me.
I actually weighed in on the doctor's scale at an even 142. Fully clothed. Heavily fully clothed (Hi, Mother Nature? This is Dallas. Take that 28 degrees shit somewhere else. Mmkay? Thanks). In tennis shoes. I'd like to think that if I'd been perched over his scale butt naked at 7:00 this morning, I'd have seen something in the 130's peeking back at me. Who knows.
I keep telling myself that 144 is my magic number. It is, right? Right.
Strep throat has just served to give me a cushion for that orgy of Christmas goodies next week. I'll be thankful for all this when I step on the scale next Friday . . .
And, once again, the dreaded stuff has hit. And while I may not bottle it and sell it . . . maybe I can just put an ad on Craigslist to breathe on anyone interested in dropping weight FAST before the holidays?
I started feeling just icky late Thursday night. I had noticed a bit of a sore throat earlier in the evening, but late that night it just hit me. I told Hubs I was really, really tired and by the time I laid down I was jittery and achy. Fun stuff. I spent all of Friday wishing for death and debating on whether or not to call the doctor.
I hate doctors. I decided against it.
Felt better Saturday and Sunday and then, last night, my fever spiked once again. *Sigh* So to the doct-ah doct-ah Mr. MD today.
Strep throat.
*Pokes fork in eye*
On the plus, it's almost gone and I have an antibiotic that'll take out the little bit that's left. On the minus, I'm beating myself up for NOT going in sooner and praying fervently that neither of my boys get it.
I weighed in Thursday morning at 145.8 pounds (I like to keep my weight at 144.4 and this was the third or fourth consecutive day of the 145.8 weigh-in. I was getting pissed). This morning. 141.4. Ye-owch! That's nearly four and a half pounds in just four days! Sheesh. That's what tends to happen when you eat nothing but Jello.
And, hello! Not that I've wanted to eat anything but Jello. If I have no appetite, then you KNOW I'm sick. Especially this time of year with all the goodies to taunt me.
I actually weighed in on the doctor's scale at an even 142. Fully clothed. Heavily fully clothed (Hi, Mother Nature? This is Dallas. Take that 28 degrees shit somewhere else. Mmkay? Thanks). In tennis shoes. I'd like to think that if I'd been perched over his scale butt naked at 7:00 this morning, I'd have seen something in the 130's peeking back at me. Who knows.
I keep telling myself that 144 is my magic number. It is, right? Right.
Strep throat has just served to give me a cushion for that orgy of Christmas goodies next week. I'll be thankful for all this when I step on the scale next Friday . . .
Thursday, December 11, 2008
'Tis the Season to be Fat and Jolly
<===== Well, this guy thinks so anyway.
I spent $68.01 tonight buying the supplies to make cookies and candy for Christmas. 70 bucks! On sugar and flour and pecans and powdered sugar and all those other things that make Christmas really rock. S-e-v-e-n-t-y dollars. I got to addin' up in my head and, well, Old Navy had $12 jeans last Saturday. I could have bought FIVE pairs of jeans for what I spent on stuff to bake. Dude, my priorities are way straight.
If that's not enough, I stopped at Whataburger on the way home. And ordered a meal deal. And not the junior burger either.
You wouldn't think this would be the girl who'd be freaking out the past THREE days because the scale was up a pound and a half.
But, it's Christmas. And one of my favorite things about Christmas is getting in the kitchen up to my elbows in baking powder and food coloring and churning out cookie after cookie on top of candy after candy. This year, I'm making almost everything in the Paula Deen collection from Good Housekeeping magazine as well as my personal favorite sugar cookies, tuxedo cookies, chocolate chip cookies, and . . . well, would it be Christmas without chocolate covered pretzels? I'm pretty sure the shepherds had those on hand as they were watching their flock by night. I'm just sure of it.
So that this entry is full of something *other* than just sinful goodness, Imma list some new favorite recipes we've tried and liked here lately:
Cheesy Vegetable Chowder (I got this one for the 2003 Weight Watchers cookbook, but tweaked it to my liking)
1 can vegetable broth
2 1/2 cups fozen diced potatoes with peppers and onions
1 can cream corn
1 1/2 cups skim milk
1 tbsp four
1 cup reduced fat cheddar cheese
Real bacon bits
Salt and pepper to taste
Mix vegetable broth and potatoes in large pan and bring to a boil. Let simmer 10 minutes or until potatoes are tender. Add in can of corn and milk. Mix well over medium heat and allow to simmer five minutes. Meanwhile, toss cheddar cheese with flour. Add to pan, stirring continously until all the cheese is melted. Makes seven 1 cup servings. I topped my bowl with one tbsp real bacon bits and chopped green onions. I also ate with the Pringles pizza flavored sticks. Yum-o!
This next one is adapted from this recipe at KraftFoods.
1 lb ground turkey
1/2 cup fat free Mozerella cheese
1/2 cup breadcrumbs, seasoned with season salt
1/4 cup barbeque sauce
Additional barbeque sauce
Turkey Bacon
Laughing Cow cheese
Mix first four ingredients together and form into four (or six -- we like flatter burgers in our house) patties. Cook on grill until heated through. Meanwhile, cook enough bacon to top each burger with one slice. Once burgers are cooked, top each with additional BBQ sauce, half a wedge of Laughing Cow cheese, and one slice of turkey bacon. These are YUMMY!
I spent $68.01 tonight buying the supplies to make cookies and candy for Christmas. 70 bucks! On sugar and flour and pecans and powdered sugar and all those other things that make Christmas really rock. S-e-v-e-n-t-y dollars. I got to addin' up in my head and, well, Old Navy had $12 jeans last Saturday. I could have bought FIVE pairs of jeans for what I spent on stuff to bake. Dude, my priorities are way straight.
If that's not enough, I stopped at Whataburger on the way home. And ordered a meal deal. And not the junior burger either.
You wouldn't think this would be the girl who'd be freaking out the past THREE days because the scale was up a pound and a half.
But, it's Christmas. And one of my favorite things about Christmas is getting in the kitchen up to my elbows in baking powder and food coloring and churning out cookie after cookie on top of candy after candy. This year, I'm making almost everything in the Paula Deen collection from Good Housekeeping magazine as well as my personal favorite sugar cookies, tuxedo cookies, chocolate chip cookies, and . . . well, would it be Christmas without chocolate covered pretzels? I'm pretty sure the shepherds had those on hand as they were watching their flock by night. I'm just sure of it.
So that this entry is full of something *other* than just sinful goodness, Imma list some new favorite recipes we've tried and liked here lately:
Cheesy Vegetable Chowder (I got this one for the 2003 Weight Watchers cookbook, but tweaked it to my liking)
1 can vegetable broth
2 1/2 cups fozen diced potatoes with peppers and onions
1 can cream corn
1 1/2 cups skim milk
1 tbsp four
1 cup reduced fat cheddar cheese
Real bacon bits
Salt and pepper to taste
Mix vegetable broth and potatoes in large pan and bring to a boil. Let simmer 10 minutes or until potatoes are tender. Add in can of corn and milk. Mix well over medium heat and allow to simmer five minutes. Meanwhile, toss cheddar cheese with flour. Add to pan, stirring continously until all the cheese is melted. Makes seven 1 cup servings. I topped my bowl with one tbsp real bacon bits and chopped green onions. I also ate with the Pringles pizza flavored sticks. Yum-o!
This next one is adapted from this recipe at KraftFoods.
1 lb ground turkey
1/2 cup fat free Mozerella cheese
1/2 cup breadcrumbs, seasoned with season salt
1/4 cup barbeque sauce
Additional barbeque sauce
Turkey Bacon
Laughing Cow cheese
Mix first four ingredients together and form into four (or six -- we like flatter burgers in our house) patties. Cook on grill until heated through. Meanwhile, cook enough bacon to top each burger with one slice. Once burgers are cooked, top each with additional BBQ sauce, half a wedge of Laughing Cow cheese, and one slice of turkey bacon. These are YUMMY!
Monday, December 8, 2008
Errrbody Likes Freebies, Right?
I got links to these two websites in my daily Hungry Girl email. They're both sites to get you free samples and coupons of goodies from General Mills and Kraft. Who doesn't need coupons with the way the economy is right now . . . and you KNOW we all love a good sample of anything. Or maybe you're just like me and appreciate getting anything in the mail that's not a bill.
Kraft First Taste - If you're already a member at Kraftfoods, then the registration policy is pretty painless. I've played around with this one more than the General Mills one and you can create a profile and everything over there. If ya wanna look me up (if you can look me up, I haven't played around with it quite that much, my username is Brandiwalker1010).
Pssst - This is the General Mills site. I haven't played around with it quite as much, but I did find this site thanks to it: The Progresso Taste Challange -- with $3 in printable Progresso coupons . . . ya'll know I'm all about my Progresso soups (especially this time of year!)
Kraft First Taste - If you're already a member at Kraftfoods, then the registration policy is pretty painless. I've played around with this one more than the General Mills one and you can create a profile and everything over there. If ya wanna look me up (if you can look me up, I haven't played around with it quite that much, my username is Brandiwalker1010).
Pssst - This is the General Mills site. I haven't played around with it quite as much, but I did find this site thanks to it: The Progresso Taste Challange -- with $3 in printable Progresso coupons . . . ya'll know I'm all about my Progresso soups (especially this time of year!)
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Addictions: Of the Current Variety
1. Fiber One Oats and Chocolate bars. Yum-o!
2. Mrs. Freshey's brand (aka the cheap stuff) 100-calorie Swiss Cake rolls. Jaybird and I split a pack.
3. Chocolate covered cherries . . . 75 calories . . . one a day (so far).
4. Making my own version of McAlister's Spud Ole: big, honking potato, Wolf brand turkey chili, WW Mexican blend cheese, and jalapeno slices. Oh, and loads of zero calorie butter.
5. McDonald's hot chocolate. Seriously, yo, better than Starbucks by leaps and bounds.
8. Kraftfoods.com
9. Trying to refrain from constantly pulling out the pair of SIZE SIX jeans I bought before our trip. Seen here:
10. Belting out "If I Were a Boy" and "Womanizer" between Christmas songs.
2. Mrs. Freshey's brand (aka the cheap stuff) 100-calorie Swiss Cake rolls. Jaybird and I split a pack.3. Chocolate covered cherries . . . 75 calories . . . one a day (so far).
4. Making my own version of McAlister's Spud Ole: big, honking potato, Wolf brand turkey chili, WW Mexican blend cheese, and jalapeno slices. Oh, and loads of zero calorie butter.5. McDonald's hot chocolate. Seriously, yo, better than Starbucks by leaps and bounds.
6. The phrase "piss poor morally," thanks to T.I. (and a little bit to Rhianna, too) and Live Your Life.
7. Trying to convince Hubs that even though Santa already brought me a new digital camera I seriously need the three remaining books in the Twilight series.
7. Trying to convince Hubs that even though Santa already brought me a new digital camera I seriously need the three remaining books in the Twilight series.
9. Trying to refrain from constantly pulling out the pair of SIZE SIX jeans I bought before our trip. Seen here:
10. Belting out "If I Were a Boy" and "Womanizer" between Christmas songs.
Thursday, December 4, 2008
All You Can Eat
I made a complete asshole out of myself at one of the infamous Vegas buffets. It was a breakfast buffet and, OMG, breakfast is one of my favorite things ever. It's the one meal of the day when you can have dessert (hello! Chocolate chip pancakes!) and get away with calling it a meal. I loaded my plate up with bacon and sausage and scrambled eggs (with cheese!) and fried potatoes. The aforementioned chocolate chip pancakes. If it can be considered breakfast food, it was on my plate that morning. I also completely skipped the fruit bar. I mean, if I was going to go unhealthy, I was gonna go unhealthy!
I was an asshole again when we had our Thanksgiving dinner (the Saturday after Thanksgiving). Scratch that. I was an a-hole the next morning when I had a HUGE piece of chocolate pie for breakfast and followed it up with a heaping helping of potato casserole to "cut the sugar."
Yeah.
Add to that alllllllllllllllll the food (and drinks!) I consumed on vacation and our actual Thanksgiving dinner, not to mention the fact that I had the buffet at KFC the first night we were back (why does the word 'buffet' make us think BINGE is okay?) and it's no wonder that the scale weighed four pounds heavier when I stepped on it Tuesday morning.
Yikes!
The Sunday before we left, I weighed in at 143 . . . my lowest weight to this point (and that is after having a late supper -- and a Sonic Brown Bag, at that, the night before). Tuesday morning, I was 147. This morning, I was back down to 144.2. So maybe Tuesday's weight was water retention? Who knows.
It's funny that 149 was my goal weight. 147 was the weight when I surpassed my goal. Yet I freaked out when I saw it on the scale. Was it the number? Or the fact that four pounds had attached themselves to my body in only two weeks of bad eating and little exercising? I'm hoping it's the latter . . . though, I'll be the first to admit that I like that number being BELOW 145.
Hubs and I enjoying a nice meal (crab nachos, Mmmmm!) in Veeeeegas:
I was an asshole again when we had our Thanksgiving dinner (the Saturday after Thanksgiving). Scratch that. I was an a-hole the next morning when I had a HUGE piece of chocolate pie for breakfast and followed it up with a heaping helping of potato casserole to "cut the sugar."
Yeah.
Add to that alllllllllllllllll the food (and drinks!) I consumed on vacation and our actual Thanksgiving dinner, not to mention the fact that I had the buffet at KFC the first night we were back (why does the word 'buffet' make us think BINGE is okay?) and it's no wonder that the scale weighed four pounds heavier when I stepped on it Tuesday morning.
Yikes!
The Sunday before we left, I weighed in at 143 . . . my lowest weight to this point (and that is after having a late supper -- and a Sonic Brown Bag, at that, the night before). Tuesday morning, I was 147. This morning, I was back down to 144.2. So maybe Tuesday's weight was water retention? Who knows.
It's funny that 149 was my goal weight. 147 was the weight when I surpassed my goal. Yet I freaked out when I saw it on the scale. Was it the number? Or the fact that four pounds had attached themselves to my body in only two weeks of bad eating and little exercising? I'm hoping it's the latter . . . though, I'll be the first to admit that I like that number being BELOW 145.
Hubs and I enjoying a nice meal (crab nachos, Mmmmm!) in Veeeeegas:
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
December 3, 2005
Today is my dad's third anniversary in Heaven. He was driving home from work on a sunny Saturday afternoon, December 3, 2005, when he was hit head-on by a young man attempting to pass a bus on a hill. The other driver lived; they said my dad was killed instantly.
We were estranged at the time he passed away. In fact, we hadn't spoken in going on four years. What made that fact even harder was that I found out I was pregnant with Jaybird just two months later. I know Dad and I would have "made up" because I'm sure I would have contacted him when I found out I was pregnant.
So much of my personality *is* my dad. It's from him that I get my love of sports and can spout off knowlege of college football better than anybody. I love to read. That one comes from my dad. My love of writing. My stuborness. My distinct dislike for Notre Dame (unless they're playing USC). Dad, Dad, Dad.
I also get something else from him . . . determination.
Dad was diagnosed as a type two diabetic in 1995. Most type two diabetics that I know just don't seem to care what the disease can do to them. They eat what they want. Not my dad. There were so many foods that he loved, but he gave them up because he knew he had to if he wanted to be healthy. A few years before his death, he had to rely on insulin to control the diabetes. Funny how that works? He hadn't touched his favorite candy - Spicettes - in years and still ended up on insullin. My aunt cheats all the time, and has been cheating for ten years now, and her diabetes hasn't gotten any worse.
But Dad was determined to be as healthy as possible and not let food rule his life. I'd like to think that he was somewhat of an inspiration as I was working to lose weight. I'd like to think that he'll continue to be an inspiration as I work on maintaining my weight. Let's face it: if he could go without his favorite foods pretty much ALL THE TIME then I can deal with just eating my favorites in moderation, right? Right.
One thing I know for sure is that diabetes is no longer ravaging him. I'm sure he's up in Heaven, smiling down, enjoying a glass of sweet tea with half a pound of sugar. He's popping spicettes one after another. And he'll probably be eating chicken fried steak for dinner tonight. With is PawPaw, of course.
Rest in peace, Dad, we love you and we miss you a little more everyday!
We were estranged at the time he passed away. In fact, we hadn't spoken in going on four years. What made that fact even harder was that I found out I was pregnant with Jaybird just two months later. I know Dad and I would have "made up" because I'm sure I would have contacted him when I found out I was pregnant.
So much of my personality *is* my dad. It's from him that I get my love of sports and can spout off knowlege of college football better than anybody. I love to read. That one comes from my dad. My love of writing. My stuborness. My distinct dislike for Notre Dame (unless they're playing USC). Dad, Dad, Dad.
I also get something else from him . . . determination.
Dad was diagnosed as a type two diabetic in 1995. Most type two diabetics that I know just don't seem to care what the disease can do to them. They eat what they want. Not my dad. There were so many foods that he loved, but he gave them up because he knew he had to if he wanted to be healthy. A few years before his death, he had to rely on insulin to control the diabetes. Funny how that works? He hadn't touched his favorite candy - Spicettes - in years and still ended up on insullin. My aunt cheats all the time, and has been cheating for ten years now, and her diabetes hasn't gotten any worse.
But Dad was determined to be as healthy as possible and not let food rule his life. I'd like to think that he was somewhat of an inspiration as I was working to lose weight. I'd like to think that he'll continue to be an inspiration as I work on maintaining my weight. Let's face it: if he could go without his favorite foods pretty much ALL THE TIME then I can deal with just eating my favorites in moderation, right? Right.
One thing I know for sure is that diabetes is no longer ravaging him. I'm sure he's up in Heaven, smiling down, enjoying a glass of sweet tea with half a pound of sugar. He's popping spicettes one after another. And he'll probably be eating chicken fried steak for dinner tonight. With is PawPaw, of course.
Rest in peace, Dad, we love you and we miss you a little more everyday!
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
My Mother's House
Some people get warm fuzzies everytime they go to their mother's house. They look forward to it. It's a place of comfort. It's "home."
In this instance, I am not "some people."
This house isn't home. It's not the house I grew up in. It's not in the same town and, frankly, it's light years away from where I grew up.
Not only is it a different man that lives in this house with my mom (and so different from my dad that it's not even funny!), but . . . well, a lot of things have changed.
In my mother's house back when *I* was growing up, kids couldn't do anything. Strict with a capital S. Hell, strict with a capital S, capital T, capital R . . . you get the picture. But now in my mother's house? Apparently, children get away with everything.
"Oh, Brandi, they're only young once."
"Quit getting onto him. He's just having fun."
"Jaybird, you come here to GiGi. It's okay."
*Pulls hair out*
Some things never change though. There's always the latest copy of Good Housekeeping at my mother's house (and, no, I would never buy it but holy clogged arteries, Batman! This one has Paula Deen with her favorite Christmas cookie recipes). There's always the latest copy of a book from a favorite shared author at my Mother's house. There's always Diet Coke and season-appropriate napkins on the dining room table and a plant that is about two days away from being DOA.
And always . . . it never, ever fails . . . her refrigerator is fucking disgusting.
There are milk cartons pushed to the way back that I'm terrified to look at the expiration dates. There are millions of cool whip containers that have been washed out and now store green beans with fur growing on them (hey, I wonder if Jaybird could turn that into a song . . . beans with the fur . . . ). She inherited it from my grandmother. I shit you not, I was at my MawMaw's house once and found a jug of milk that had expired *throws up a little in mouth* eight months previously. I swear to Jesus, I am not lying. EIGHT MONTH OLD MILK! IN HER REFRIGERATOR! That's, like, the seventh level of disgusting.
FYI: My own fridge isn't exactly immaculate, but it's cleaned out at least once a month. And milk is thrown out as soon as the expiration date is up.
Something else my mother inherited from her mother?
If they find a bargain in the food aisle, they buy it. It doesn't matter if it's navy beans (who the hell eats those?) or beets or watercress of what. If it's on sale, they'll pick it up and inspect it. Look at the price and say, "Wow, that's a good deal." Then they'll haul five or eight into their cart. I witnessed this very thing tonight. Mom and I were in Walmart when we passed the sweet potatoes. "Twenty-five cents a pound? Wow! That's a good deal. I should stock up." Who eats sweet potatoes, Mom? "Well, um, I'll take one for my lunch tomorrow. And, um, we can try to make a sweet potato pie for Thanksgiving. Yup, a pie. That's what I'll do." Do they really put 18 sweet potatoes in a pie? Doubt it.
Right now, if you were to open my mother's pantry, you'd seen canned vegetables stacked up practically to the ceiling. And, yup, there are the "necessities," but there are also the cans that you just know will be making their way into brown paper grocery bags for the next canned food drive for the needy. There's also at least six boxes of stuffing (a few of those will be making their way into my suitcase before we head back to the Big D), several boxes of cereal, more Ziploc bags that I can imagine her using in her lifetime, and two humongous multi-packs of Bounty paper towels (also will be finding their way into my suitcase).
There are certain advantages to this Mass Food Buying. For instance, I've been wanting to try the whole "use a diet soda with a boxed cake mix" for a while now. But I'd either not have the cake mix or not have the diet soda and I never wanted to make it bad enough to pack up both boys, a diaper bag, and drive the whole two miles to my local Tom Thumb. But, there's never a shortage of cake mixes at my mother's house (and, hot damn, you better believe there's never a shortage of diet soda). So that cake? Yeah, made it today.
My mother's kitchen is a dream for someone who enjoys cooking. There is always whatever ingredient you need right on hand.
Maybe I'll have to look a little more deeply into this whole "Hey! It's on sale!" style of buying. Hmm.
But, I promise you, as soon as I get home I'm cleaning out my fridge again.
In this instance, I am not "some people."
This house isn't home. It's not the house I grew up in. It's not in the same town and, frankly, it's light years away from where I grew up.
Not only is it a different man that lives in this house with my mom (and so different from my dad that it's not even funny!), but . . . well, a lot of things have changed.
In my mother's house back when *I* was growing up, kids couldn't do anything. Strict with a capital S. Hell, strict with a capital S, capital T, capital R . . . you get the picture. But now in my mother's house? Apparently, children get away with everything.
"Oh, Brandi, they're only young once."
"Quit getting onto him. He's just having fun."
"Jaybird, you come here to GiGi. It's okay."
*Pulls hair out*
Some things never change though. There's always the latest copy of Good Housekeeping at my mother's house (and, no, I would never buy it but holy clogged arteries, Batman! This one has Paula Deen with her favorite Christmas cookie recipes). There's always the latest copy of a book from a favorite shared author at my Mother's house. There's always Diet Coke and season-appropriate napkins on the dining room table and a plant that is about two days away from being DOA.
And always . . . it never, ever fails . . . her refrigerator is fucking disgusting.
There are milk cartons pushed to the way back that I'm terrified to look at the expiration dates. There are millions of cool whip containers that have been washed out and now store green beans with fur growing on them (hey, I wonder if Jaybird could turn that into a song . . . beans with the fur . . . ). She inherited it from my grandmother. I shit you not, I was at my MawMaw's house once and found a jug of milk that had expired *throws up a little in mouth* eight months previously. I swear to Jesus, I am not lying. EIGHT MONTH OLD MILK! IN HER REFRIGERATOR! That's, like, the seventh level of disgusting.
FYI: My own fridge isn't exactly immaculate, but it's cleaned out at least once a month. And milk is thrown out as soon as the expiration date is up.
Something else my mother inherited from her mother?
If they find a bargain in the food aisle, they buy it. It doesn't matter if it's navy beans (who the hell eats those?) or beets or watercress of what. If it's on sale, they'll pick it up and inspect it. Look at the price and say, "Wow, that's a good deal." Then they'll haul five or eight into their cart. I witnessed this very thing tonight. Mom and I were in Walmart when we passed the sweet potatoes. "Twenty-five cents a pound? Wow! That's a good deal. I should stock up." Who eats sweet potatoes, Mom? "Well, um, I'll take one for my lunch tomorrow. And, um, we can try to make a sweet potato pie for Thanksgiving. Yup, a pie. That's what I'll do." Do they really put 18 sweet potatoes in a pie? Doubt it.
Right now, if you were to open my mother's pantry, you'd seen canned vegetables stacked up practically to the ceiling. And, yup, there are the "necessities," but there are also the cans that you just know will be making their way into brown paper grocery bags for the next canned food drive for the needy. There's also at least six boxes of stuffing (a few of those will be making their way into my suitcase before we head back to the Big D), several boxes of cereal, more Ziploc bags that I can imagine her using in her lifetime, and two humongous multi-packs of Bounty paper towels (also will be finding their way into my suitcase).
There are certain advantages to this Mass Food Buying. For instance, I've been wanting to try the whole "use a diet soda with a boxed cake mix" for a while now. But I'd either not have the cake mix or not have the diet soda and I never wanted to make it bad enough to pack up both boys, a diaper bag, and drive the whole two miles to my local Tom Thumb. But, there's never a shortage of cake mixes at my mother's house (and, hot damn, you better believe there's never a shortage of diet soda). So that cake? Yeah, made it today.
My mother's kitchen is a dream for someone who enjoys cooking. There is always whatever ingredient you need right on hand.
Maybe I'll have to look a little more deeply into this whole "Hey! It's on sale!" style of buying. Hmm.
But, I promise you, as soon as I get home I'm cleaning out my fridge again.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
I'm Leaving On a Jet Plane
I'm having to fight the urge to run to the nearest store, buy a bag of those cute Christmas-y green and red M&M's, and then lay in bed all day eating them and re-reading UnDomestic Goddess by Sophia Kinsella. I definitely don't need the jumbo bag of Emmy Em's (has my Jaybir calls them) and since phase I of our trip begins tomorrow, I reeeeeally don't need to do any laying around.
As of right now, I have suitcases, clothes, bras, shoes, you-name-it strewn all over my bedroom. I'm trying to pack for a week in Arkansas. Followed by a week in California/ Vegas. Followed by a few more days in Arkansas. Not to mention I also have to pack for two little boys (and all of us will be in three different places for five days of this excursion). Oh, and I STILL need to go shopping less I end up parading in the raw through LAX. I don't think anyone would appreciate that. Victoria Beckham I am not.
I can't believe the trip is right here on us! We're leaving tomorrow night and the boys and I will spend a few days at my Mom's place. Then one week from now, hubs and I will board a plane and be on our way . . . to my first vacation in four years! It's much needed. I plane to doze off as soon as my ass hits the plane seat. It will be the first time in six months that I've been able to sleep without someone waking me up to feed them, change them, take them to the potty . . . or without a grown man trying to have sex with me (he can't do that on the plane, yo! And I have no desire to join the Mile High Club. No tank ya veddy much). I'll sleep all the way to Denver, wake up enough to change planes, and then sleep again all the way to LA. Holla! 'Cause once I get there . . . won't be much sleeping at all.
I am going to eat my first In-and-Out burger and I'm going to dine at Roscoe's Chicken and Waffles. And when we go out in Hollywood next Saturday night, I will probably drink my weight in appletinis. And guess what? I'm not even gonna think about the scale!
As of right now, I have suitcases, clothes, bras, shoes, you-name-it strewn all over my bedroom. I'm trying to pack for a week in Arkansas. Followed by a week in California/ Vegas. Followed by a few more days in Arkansas. Not to mention I also have to pack for two little boys (and all of us will be in three different places for five days of this excursion). Oh, and I STILL need to go shopping less I end up parading in the raw through LAX. I don't think anyone would appreciate that. Victoria Beckham I am not.
I can't believe the trip is right here on us! We're leaving tomorrow night and the boys and I will spend a few days at my Mom's place. Then one week from now, hubs and I will board a plane and be on our way . . . to my first vacation in four years! It's much needed. I plane to doze off as soon as my ass hits the plane seat. It will be the first time in six months that I've been able to sleep without someone waking me up to feed them, change them, take them to the potty . . . or without a grown man trying to have sex with me (he can't do that on the plane, yo! And I have no desire to join the Mile High Club. No tank ya veddy much). I'll sleep all the way to Denver, wake up enough to change planes, and then sleep again all the way to LA. Holla! 'Cause once I get there . . . won't be much sleeping at all.
I am going to eat my first In-and-Out burger and I'm going to dine at Roscoe's Chicken and Waffles. And when we go out in Hollywood next Saturday night, I will probably drink my weight in appletinis. And guess what? I'm not even gonna think about the scale!
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
I Think We're All THE BIGGEST LOSER for Watching This Mess
I am so disillusioned with The Biggest Loser right now.
And I will probably top this blog with a "Dear NBC," copy and paste everything, and hope it makes it's way to the powers that be in the network.
That show is supposed to be inspiring. We're supposed to see it and think, "heck yeah! I can do that too!" People like Ali, last season's winner, ARE inspiring. People like Vicky, Brady, and Heba? Not so much.
This show should not even be a game. Seriously. Anyone who is very overweight and serious about getting healthy would participate in this show - and should participate in this show - for the sole reason of LOSING WEIGHT AND GETTING HEALTHY. The money shouldn't have anything to do with it.
I think that's what disgusts me so much about Vicky. She complains about the challanges . . . doesn't care anything at all about them. All she seems to care about is the dollar signs. And, ya know what? I get it. I have two small children, too. I understand just how much a half a million dollars could change lives. But more important when it comes to changing the lives of our children is making POSITIVE choices when it comes to weight loss and being healthy. Providing a home for our children where they can be healthy and don't have to worry about growing up to be overweight? You cannot put a price tag on that.
Listen up, NBC, this is what you need to do: You can keep the money prize, but toss out the whole "Survivor" aspect of the game. Whoever loses the least percentage is axed. End of story. That was the only "strategy" in this game involves people working their ass off. Orrrr, if you just must absolutely have a vote-off then why not let Bob and Jillian be the ones to pick who leaves the show? Weed out the ones who are only their for the money and keep the peeps who are serious about being healthy.
Part of me wonders if NBC has set up Vicky to be the villian. Is she really that evil? Or are there things Phil has said and done that didn't make it to tape? Are we only seeing one side of the story? Regardless, for the life of me, I cannot understand WHY they think they have to have all the dramatics in order to keep views of this show. Newsflash: it's NOT keeping viewers. It's turning them off.
The Biggest Loser is one of the only truly inspiring reality shows on TV. Yeah, Dancing with the Stars might inspire to some point pick up some dancing shoes and see if I can overcome my clumsyness. And The Amazing Race might inspire me to get my ass in shape to where I could compete in that. And maybe all the ". . . of Love" shows on VH1 inspire some folks to get tested for VD. But The Biggest Loser, in so many ways, is just all around inspiring.
Until now.
And, I promise you, if Vicky or Heba wins this show then it has completely lost it's premise and it will most definitely lose at least one viewer. ME.
And I will probably top this blog with a "Dear NBC," copy and paste everything, and hope it makes it's way to the powers that be in the network.
That show is supposed to be inspiring. We're supposed to see it and think, "heck yeah! I can do that too!" People like Ali, last season's winner, ARE inspiring. People like Vicky, Brady, and Heba? Not so much.
This show should not even be a game. Seriously. Anyone who is very overweight and serious about getting healthy would participate in this show - and should participate in this show - for the sole reason of LOSING WEIGHT AND GETTING HEALTHY. The money shouldn't have anything to do with it.
I think that's what disgusts me so much about Vicky. She complains about the challanges . . . doesn't care anything at all about them. All she seems to care about is the dollar signs. And, ya know what? I get it. I have two small children, too. I understand just how much a half a million dollars could change lives. But more important when it comes to changing the lives of our children is making POSITIVE choices when it comes to weight loss and being healthy. Providing a home for our children where they can be healthy and don't have to worry about growing up to be overweight? You cannot put a price tag on that.
Listen up, NBC, this is what you need to do: You can keep the money prize, but toss out the whole "Survivor" aspect of the game. Whoever loses the least percentage is axed. End of story. That was the only "strategy" in this game involves people working their ass off. Orrrr, if you just must absolutely have a vote-off then why not let Bob and Jillian be the ones to pick who leaves the show? Weed out the ones who are only their for the money and keep the peeps who are serious about being healthy.
Part of me wonders if NBC has set up Vicky to be the villian. Is she really that evil? Or are there things Phil has said and done that didn't make it to tape? Are we only seeing one side of the story? Regardless, for the life of me, I cannot understand WHY they think they have to have all the dramatics in order to keep views of this show. Newsflash: it's NOT keeping viewers. It's turning them off.
The Biggest Loser is one of the only truly inspiring reality shows on TV. Yeah, Dancing with the Stars might inspire to some point pick up some dancing shoes and see if I can overcome my clumsyness. And The Amazing Race might inspire me to get my ass in shape to where I could compete in that. And maybe all the ". . . of Love" shows on VH1 inspire some folks to get tested for VD. But The Biggest Loser, in so many ways, is just all around inspiring.
Until now.
And, I promise you, if Vicky or Heba wins this show then it has completely lost it's premise and it will most definitely lose at least one viewer. ME.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Bring It On.
If you pay any attention at all to my ticker over yonder ============================================> (and I seriously doubt you do), you'll notice that it's no longer resting on 67 pounds lost. Nope. In the two weeks I've been working on "maintaining," I've managed to lose another three pounds.
I need to write a book on this Halloween Candy Diet, yo, cause I could make big bucks off of it.
I dunno if it's my body still trying to adjust or what. I've upped my calories. According to The Daily Plate, a person who is 147 pounds and maintains a moderate activity level needs to eat 2,403 calories a day to maintain. Do you know how many that is? Honestly? When you're used to eating HALF that everyday? I was using Sparkpeople to track my calories for a week or so (grew tired of that and, honestly, I was doing a decent job of it in my head) and not once did I go over 1900 calories. I suppose if nothing else, I'm building up a 'cushion' for my vacation. So even if I do gain three or four pounds, I'll still be back at where I was two weeks ago. Sounds good, right? Right.
I just don't want to end up being a Star Jones and people saying to themselves, "Damn, Brandi looked better before she lost all that weight. Skeletor." No thanks. (I realize I am weeeee-ayyyy far from being Skeletor, but. Ya know).
So, yeah, vacation? Bring those calories on! Mama is ready for her first In-and-Out burger and her first ever trip to a place with 'chicken' and 'waffles' both in the title. Brrrrring.It.On! ;)
Oh and just 'cause yesterday he was six months old, it's me and the KyKy Man:
And here we are six short months ago. Time really does fly!
I need to write a book on this Halloween Candy Diet, yo, cause I could make big bucks off of it.
I dunno if it's my body still trying to adjust or what. I've upped my calories. According to The Daily Plate, a person who is 147 pounds and maintains a moderate activity level needs to eat 2,403 calories a day to maintain. Do you know how many that is? Honestly? When you're used to eating HALF that everyday? I was using Sparkpeople to track my calories for a week or so (grew tired of that and, honestly, I was doing a decent job of it in my head) and not once did I go over 1900 calories. I suppose if nothing else, I'm building up a 'cushion' for my vacation. So even if I do gain three or four pounds, I'll still be back at where I was two weeks ago. Sounds good, right? Right.
I just don't want to end up being a Star Jones and people saying to themselves, "Damn, Brandi looked better before she lost all that weight. Skeletor." No thanks. (I realize I am weeeee-ayyyy far from being Skeletor, but. Ya know).
So, yeah, vacation? Bring those calories on! Mama is ready for her first In-and-Out burger and her first ever trip to a place with 'chicken' and 'waffles' both in the title. Brrrrring.It.On! ;)
Oh and just 'cause yesterday he was six months old, it's me and the KyKy Man:
And here we are six short months ago. Time really does fly!
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Dashing Through the Mashed Potatoes and the Candied Yams
I saw my first 'holiday' commercial (one for Glade candles, funnily enough) a few days before Halloween. Now the jack-o-lanterns are just starting to rot and the costumes have barely settled into storage bins and we're bombarded with all things HOLIDAY. Every commercial on TV has chestnuts roasting on an open fire or someone decking the halls with boughs of holly. (To be perfectly honest, I don't really consider it Christmas time until I see the Folgers ad with Peter coming home that's been running since leg warmers were fashionable and Cabbage Patch dolls were a new thing). Radio stations are pulling out their Bing Crosby records. Stores are filled to the brim with pre-lit evergreens. And I got my Walmart toy catalog in the mail the other day.
Yup, it's here: the most wonderful time of the year.
I absolutely love Christmas. Actually, I love Halloween through New Years. I love the dressing up and the trick or treating that's followed so quickly by the Macy's parade and the Cowboys game while gnawing on a fried turkey leg and eating (another) slice of pumpkin pie. I love standing in line at Target at 4:30 on the day after Thanksgiving and elbowing my way through the toy section. I enjoy decorating a Christmas tree while I watch my beloved Hogs take on LSU. I adore buying presents for my boys. I get misty eyed when I see a Christmas tree light up a darkened room or when I hear "Silent Night" or the Christmas story. I love looking at lights and oohing, ahhing, and commenting on the tacky houses. I enjoy all the old traditions and look forward to starting new ones with my little family. I love presents and stockings and chocolate covered cherries and the Alabama Christmas album and the fact that I live in the part of the country where we really can only dream of a white Christmas.
But most of all . . . I love the food.
Turkey AND ham. Dressing. Cranberry sauce. Potato casserole and homemade hot rolls and the bean dip that totally doesn't fit the gathering but that my Aunt Sue brings every year anyway. And the desserts. OMG, the desserts! I think I could fill an entire blog entry with just the names of the very best Christmas desserts. I adore baking and making candy and the way my kitchen smells after I've pulled a batch of peanutbutter cookies that look like reindeer out of the oven.
If there's anything that can take the holly jolly out of the holly-days, it's the thought of . . . dun dun dun . . . THE SCALE. I admit it, I'm a scale junkie. I weigh myself every morning (and sometimes midmorning . . . and in the afternoon . . . and early evening . . . and, uh, right before bed) to keep ME in check. You know the commercial with the chick who has the scale tethered to her ankle? Yup, tha's your girl, Miss B!
I've been getting into the boards over on Sparkpeople more and more in recent weeks. A thread about surviving the holidays has been active over there for a few weeks now. Can I just say I'm kind of shocked at the number of people who don't plan to enjoy the holidays? I mean, it's one thing to control yourself from going buck wild but it's quite another to just not enjoy all the things that you love. This time of year only comes around . . . duh . . . once a year. You HAVE to enjoy. Maybe it's even okay to overindulge a bit, ya know? The more you deny yourself, the more likely you are to find yourself with your arm up a turkey's ass in the middle of March because you have a craving that can only be stopped by a 15-lb bird with all the trimmings.
All that said, it's time to set some goals for ME for this holiday season. I'll probably spend Turkey Day at an aiport bar in Denver drowning my sorrow over the fact that I'm not celebrating the holiday with kiddos with Vodka-and-Cranberry (that's a substitute for cranberry sauce, right?). And I'm lucky enough to be the one cooking Christmas dinner this year (but sad at the same time as it'll be only the second time in my entire life that I haven't been in Arkansas for the big day). So some things shouldn't be too hard, but . . . hell, who am I kidding?
My goals this holiday season:
1) Keep weight between 145 - 149
2) Do the aerobic workout on my bike at least 3 times a week
3) Pilates tape at least twice a week
4) I can eat ONE of every baked item I make. Send anything the fam doesn't eat to one of the shelters around here (will shelters take home baked items?) Or, possibly, send them to a soldier overseas.
5) ONE chocolate covered cherry a day. ONE. Brandi! I said ONE! No more!
6) Hot chocolate with peppermint schnapps will only be consumed once a week. And only if the temperature drops below 45.
7) Relax and enjoy myself. Any over-eating can be remedied by a marathon work out session and lots of water.
8) No matter how hard he begs, I will NOT buy Jaybird a sweater with Brobie or the Giant Dildo from Yo Gabba Gabba on it.
9) Reeses, Snickers, and Milky Ways shaped like Christmas trees are, in fact, still Reeses, Snickers, and Milky Ways. I will abstain.
Last Christmas . . .
** In case you're interested: the title of this entry comes from a church Christmas play that I was in a good, um, 20 years ago (sweet baby Jesus!). I played a mouse and all I remember about it is a song that went, "Dashing through the mashed potatoes and the candied yams . . . don't forget the rolls and gravy . . . there's enough to feed the navy! Christmas time is no time, no time to diet . . . it's no time for watching your weight . . . " I am such a fucking nerd for remembering that.
Yup, it's here: the most wonderful time of the year.
I absolutely love Christmas. Actually, I love Halloween through New Years. I love the dressing up and the trick or treating that's followed so quickly by the Macy's parade and the Cowboys game while gnawing on a fried turkey leg and eating (another) slice of pumpkin pie. I love standing in line at Target at 4:30 on the day after Thanksgiving and elbowing my way through the toy section. I enjoy decorating a Christmas tree while I watch my beloved Hogs take on LSU. I adore buying presents for my boys. I get misty eyed when I see a Christmas tree light up a darkened room or when I hear "Silent Night" or the Christmas story. I love looking at lights and oohing, ahhing, and commenting on the tacky houses. I enjoy all the old traditions and look forward to starting new ones with my little family. I love presents and stockings and chocolate covered cherries and the Alabama Christmas album and the fact that I live in the part of the country where we really can only dream of a white Christmas.
But most of all . . . I love the food.
Turkey AND ham. Dressing. Cranberry sauce. Potato casserole and homemade hot rolls and the bean dip that totally doesn't fit the gathering but that my Aunt Sue brings every year anyway. And the desserts. OMG, the desserts! I think I could fill an entire blog entry with just the names of the very best Christmas desserts. I adore baking and making candy and the way my kitchen smells after I've pulled a batch of peanutbutter cookies that look like reindeer out of the oven.
If there's anything that can take the holly jolly out of the holly-days, it's the thought of . . . dun dun dun . . . THE SCALE. I admit it, I'm a scale junkie. I weigh myself every morning (and sometimes midmorning . . . and in the afternoon . . . and early evening . . . and, uh, right before bed) to keep ME in check. You know the commercial with the chick who has the scale tethered to her ankle? Yup, tha's your girl, Miss B!
I've been getting into the boards over on Sparkpeople more and more in recent weeks. A thread about surviving the holidays has been active over there for a few weeks now. Can I just say I'm kind of shocked at the number of people who don't plan to enjoy the holidays? I mean, it's one thing to control yourself from going buck wild but it's quite another to just not enjoy all the things that you love. This time of year only comes around . . . duh . . . once a year. You HAVE to enjoy. Maybe it's even okay to overindulge a bit, ya know? The more you deny yourself, the more likely you are to find yourself with your arm up a turkey's ass in the middle of March because you have a craving that can only be stopped by a 15-lb bird with all the trimmings.
All that said, it's time to set some goals for ME for this holiday season. I'll probably spend Turkey Day at an aiport bar in Denver drowning my sorrow over the fact that I'm not celebrating the holiday with kiddos with Vodka-and-Cranberry (that's a substitute for cranberry sauce, right?). And I'm lucky enough to be the one cooking Christmas dinner this year (but sad at the same time as it'll be only the second time in my entire life that I haven't been in Arkansas for the big day). So some things shouldn't be too hard, but . . . hell, who am I kidding?
My goals this holiday season:
1) Keep weight between 145 - 149
2) Do the aerobic workout on my bike at least 3 times a week
3) Pilates tape at least twice a week
4) I can eat ONE of every baked item I make. Send anything the fam doesn't eat to one of the shelters around here (will shelters take home baked items?) Or, possibly, send them to a soldier overseas.
5) ONE chocolate covered cherry a day. ONE. Brandi! I said ONE! No more!
6) Hot chocolate with peppermint schnapps will only be consumed once a week. And only if the temperature drops below 45.
7) Relax and enjoy myself. Any over-eating can be remedied by a marathon work out session and lots of water.
8) No matter how hard he begs, I will NOT buy Jaybird a sweater with Brobie or the Giant Dildo from Yo Gabba Gabba on it.
9) Reeses, Snickers, and Milky Ways shaped like Christmas trees are, in fact, still Reeses, Snickers, and Milky Ways. I will abstain.
Last Christmas . . .
** In case you're interested: the title of this entry comes from a church Christmas play that I was in a good, um, 20 years ago (sweet baby Jesus!). I played a mouse and all I remember about it is a song that went, "Dashing through the mashed potatoes and the candied yams . . . don't forget the rolls and gravy . . . there's enough to feed the navy! Christmas time is no time, no time to diet . . . it's no time for watching your weight . . . " I am such a fucking nerd for remembering that.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Yes, We Did!
I am ecstatic, overjoyed, and over the freaking moon about the election results. I am proud of our country. Proud for so many reasons and definitely proud as being the mother of two biracial little boys.
We did it! Yes, we can and yes, we did!
Know what else I'm proud of?
Me! Because even though "celebratory eating" has been my 'thang' in the past, I didn't do it. Though I really wanted to raise an Almond Joy high in the air in a toast to Barack and the Democratic party, I resisted. Even when my brother called and told me they were feasting on celebratory pina coladas, I managed to keep myself from running to the kitchen and pulling out the coconut rum.
Instead of letting my SHEER JOY out in food, I rocked my precious baby to sleep secure the knowlege that he can do anything and be anything he wants to be.
That feeling, my friends, is better than the 5-minute high than any chocolate bar will ever give me.
We did it! Yes, we can and yes, we did!
Know what else I'm proud of?
Me! Because even though "celebratory eating" has been my 'thang' in the past, I didn't do it. Though I really wanted to raise an Almond Joy high in the air in a toast to Barack and the Democratic party, I resisted. Even when my brother called and told me they were feasting on celebratory pina coladas, I managed to keep myself from running to the kitchen and pulling out the coconut rum.
Instead of letting my SHEER JOY out in food, I rocked my precious baby to sleep secure the knowlege that he can do anything and be anything he wants to be.
That feeling, my friends, is better than the 5-minute high than any chocolate bar will ever give me.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Just Do It
I have never been so thankful that there is not a Krispy Kreme in my little neck of the 'burbs. If there's anything I can't resist, it's the ooey gooey goodness of a DONUT! And Krispy Kreme is offering freebies today!
Other freebies? Ben and Jerry's (don't have one of those here either) and Starbucks (don't care for coffee)
Something free to do that might even burn a few calories? VOTE!
I'll link the good old family blog so my kiddo can tell you who *he* voted for when we made it to the polls today: http://jaidanandkyan1.blogspot.com/2008/11/o-mama-for-president.html
Other freebies? Ben and Jerry's (don't have one of those here either) and Starbucks (don't care for coffee)
Something free to do that might even burn a few calories? VOTE!
I'll link the good old family blog so my kiddo can tell you who *he* voted for when we made it to the polls today: http://jaidanandkyan1.blogspot.com/2008/11/o-mama-for-president.html
Monday, November 3, 2008
To Be Fat Like Me
I can only remember one time as a kid that I picked on someone about their weight. We were in the fifth grade and the boy's name was Danny. He was very, very overweight for a child and had also been unfortunately cursed with having to wear glasses (throw in red hair and you have the top three kids will pick on others unmercifully for). We called him "the Marshmallow Man." I was never one to really pick on other kids -- I'm just not a naturally mean person. But, for some reason, Danny seemed like free game. And, besides, everyone else was.
That was almost twenty years ago and I still remember it. I wish I could go back and change things. I hope Danny is leading a good life, regardless of what size he happens to be now, nearing 30 (he moved away from our school after that year).
Yesterday afternoon, I happened to be flipping through channels and found the Lifetime movie, "To Be Fat Like Me." Now, there was a time when I could loaf around on the couch for an entire afternoon absorbing Lifetime movies. These days? Eh. There are better things to do and, besides, most of the movies are extremely corny. But this one caught my attention. I watched the first thirty minutes of it and then set the DVR to record the rest. I watched it last night.
I'm glad I did. It really made me think about things.
For starters, the relationship Ally (the main character) has with her mother reminded me a lot of *my* relationship with *my* mother. Now, my mom and I got along much better than she and hers did. But. My mother was very large for all of my formative years. All of them. In 2002, when I was 22 and she and my dad were going through a divorce, she dropped over 100 pounds. But up until that point, she was . . . not just overweight but obese. Morbidly obese.
And -- I've never admitted this before, not even to myself -- it embarrassed me. I would always wonder if boys I was interested in would look at my mom and think, "That'll be Brandi in 15 years. I'll pass." I can remember making sweatshirts for our moms in grade school. My mom's sweatshirt got mixed up with the sweatshirt of another girl's mom and I had to take my mom home a size 'large' sweatshirt. She never did get to wear it. I would have friends who could at least swap tops with their mothers. I never could do that. I was embarrassed by my mother's weight. Embarrassed for me and, yes, embarrassed for her. And it still makes me cringe to admit this. Now, I realize that my mother was so much more than a number on a scale. But when you're a kid, things are different and every little thing in your life can seem major.
The movie also brings up the point of why are we still prejudice toward big people? Why do we treat them differently? Why is it seen as okay? Because of fear. You won't suddenly change races over night. And your sexual orientation isn't going to just up and be different. You might change religions but that's something that YOU can control and a choice that YOU make. Weight isn't always like that. It can start out as 5 pounds here and 5 pounds there and before you know it, you're looking at yourself 50 pounds overweight and saying, "what the hell?" It's scary. Scary because of the way society looks at and treats overweight people. And scary because, well, all those things the skinny minnie doctors warn us about. Diabetes and heart disease and strokes and high blood pressure.
I know there are people who are severly overweight that can look at my largest (non-pregnancy) weight and think, "Dude, I would die to be there." But, I have to face it. No one starts a weight loss program with the hopes of ending up at 190 pounds and a size 14. Unless maybe they're 6'5. I've heard the 'fat' comments too. When I was a senior in high school, my cousin (who has major, MAJOR issues with women's bodies -- seriously, dude had his wife in the gym two weeks after she gave birth to a nearly 10 pounds baby!) told me that I wouldn't be overweight if I was 6'0 tall. Thanks, dude. When I was 25, I dated a guy whose best friend referred to me as "Tuck's fat girl." Gee, how nice.
It's never fun for someone to make snap judgements about you based on anything physical but when it's about your weight . . . that almost seems just a little bit harsher. Because . . . maybe it's not because I always stuff my face with french fries. And maybe it's not because I'm lazy. And maybe it's not because I don't care. We have all these generalizations that we slap onto "fat" people and they're so unfair.
As I mentioned earlier, I'm not a mean person and I don't make fun of people. It's just not me. But I have to wonder if I find myself inwardly flinching sometimes or thinking, "is she seriously going to eat another piece of pizza?" Do I do that? I don't know, but it's time to watch myself. If we want to make a difference in the way overweight people are treated, it really starts with each and every one of us.
That was almost twenty years ago and I still remember it. I wish I could go back and change things. I hope Danny is leading a good life, regardless of what size he happens to be now, nearing 30 (he moved away from our school after that year).
Yesterday afternoon, I happened to be flipping through channels and found the Lifetime movie, "To Be Fat Like Me." Now, there was a time when I could loaf around on the couch for an entire afternoon absorbing Lifetime movies. These days? Eh. There are better things to do and, besides, most of the movies are extremely corny. But this one caught my attention. I watched the first thirty minutes of it and then set the DVR to record the rest. I watched it last night.
I'm glad I did. It really made me think about things.
For starters, the relationship Ally (the main character) has with her mother reminded me a lot of *my* relationship with *my* mother. Now, my mom and I got along much better than she and hers did. But. My mother was very large for all of my formative years. All of them. In 2002, when I was 22 and she and my dad were going through a divorce, she dropped over 100 pounds. But up until that point, she was . . . not just overweight but obese. Morbidly obese.
And -- I've never admitted this before, not even to myself -- it embarrassed me. I would always wonder if boys I was interested in would look at my mom and think, "That'll be Brandi in 15 years. I'll pass." I can remember making sweatshirts for our moms in grade school. My mom's sweatshirt got mixed up with the sweatshirt of another girl's mom and I had to take my mom home a size 'large' sweatshirt. She never did get to wear it. I would have friends who could at least swap tops with their mothers. I never could do that. I was embarrassed by my mother's weight. Embarrassed for me and, yes, embarrassed for her. And it still makes me cringe to admit this. Now, I realize that my mother was so much more than a number on a scale. But when you're a kid, things are different and every little thing in your life can seem major.
The movie also brings up the point of why are we still prejudice toward big people? Why do we treat them differently? Why is it seen as okay? Because of fear. You won't suddenly change races over night. And your sexual orientation isn't going to just up and be different. You might change religions but that's something that YOU can control and a choice that YOU make. Weight isn't always like that. It can start out as 5 pounds here and 5 pounds there and before you know it, you're looking at yourself 50 pounds overweight and saying, "what the hell?" It's scary. Scary because of the way society looks at and treats overweight people. And scary because, well, all those things the skinny minnie doctors warn us about. Diabetes and heart disease and strokes and high blood pressure.
I know there are people who are severly overweight that can look at my largest (non-pregnancy) weight and think, "Dude, I would die to be there." But, I have to face it. No one starts a weight loss program with the hopes of ending up at 190 pounds and a size 14. Unless maybe they're 6'5. I've heard the 'fat' comments too. When I was a senior in high school, my cousin (who has major, MAJOR issues with women's bodies -- seriously, dude had his wife in the gym two weeks after she gave birth to a nearly 10 pounds baby!) told me that I wouldn't be overweight if I was 6'0 tall. Thanks, dude. When I was 25, I dated a guy whose best friend referred to me as "Tuck's fat girl." Gee, how nice.
It's never fun for someone to make snap judgements about you based on anything physical but when it's about your weight . . . that almost seems just a little bit harsher. Because . . . maybe it's not because I always stuff my face with french fries. And maybe it's not because I'm lazy. And maybe it's not because I don't care. We have all these generalizations that we slap onto "fat" people and they're so unfair.
As I mentioned earlier, I'm not a mean person and I don't make fun of people. It's just not me. But I have to wonder if I find myself inwardly flinching sometimes or thinking, "is she seriously going to eat another piece of pizza?" Do I do that? I don't know, but it's time to watch myself. If we want to make a difference in the way overweight people are treated, it really starts with each and every one of us.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Label Whore
Whenever you begin a weight loss journey and you start reading all the little helpful articles and such, you always, always, always run across these words: "Pay attention to labels."
And it's true. You have to pay attention. You have to count those calories and fat grams and look at dietery fiber and all that other good (or not so good) stuff. Oh, and serving sizes! Can't forget the good old serving sizes. You have to, have to, have to pay attention to what you're getting.
As a general rule, I'm pretty good at it. I know the calorie counts on my regular products so I don't hesitate to just toss them in the cart when I'm in the grocery store. If I am going to buy something I don't regularly purchase, I make sure to flip it over and read through all the nutritional info.
Like I said . . . as a general rule.
For whatever reason, I just totally spaced on my last grocery shopping trip.
I bought a package of stuffing to make for this recipe (and, by the way, it was phenominal. Hubs ate two helpings and Jaybird finished off the little bit of leftovers for lunch the next day). Lo and behold, I got home and it was low sodium stuffing. Um, ew. I know, I know, I know that I need to be watching the sodium counts but seriously. I had to add half a shaker of salt (how's that for healthy?) for the stuff to taste right.
I also picked up my standard Parkay calorie-free butter. Or so I thought. I usually buy the spray butter. Zero calories -- dudn't get no better. Right? Well, this time I noticed a bottle of squeeze butter right beside the spray butter. Same packaging, same everything, aaaand . . . same price for four ounces more. So, I bought it. Didn't check the label. Got home and, yup, 70 calories per tablespoon. Get it together, B!
Last example: yesterday the kiddos and I found a yardsale on our morning walk to the park. I approached with some apprehension because, in my snobby ass neighborhood, a yardsale means someone has five shirts and an old sofa they're trying to get rid of. This one, though, actually had clothes -- cute clothes -- and in MY NEW SIZE! Score! Dude, I have two kids and spend youdontevenwannaknowhowmuch a month on formula and diapers. I'm all about finding me some "gently worn" clothes at a yard sale. Hook me up!
I scooped up five or six shirts, a dress, a pair of shoes, pair of shorts, and two pair of jeans and only paid $12. Holla!
I got home and tried everything on. For the most part, everything fit. One pair of jeans was a teensy bit big (and they were a size 7/8! OMG!) but not so big they were unwearable. The other pair . . . um . . . it was interesting. I got them on. But if I wanted to, you know, do little things like - oh - breathe and sit down we'd have some issues. On closer inspection, I noticed the tag read "super low rise, skinny fit." In other words, "if you've had two c-sections there ain't no way in hell your ass is fitting in these."
Eh, oh well. I only "wasted" $2 on them. I can live with that . . .
And it's true. You have to pay attention. You have to count those calories and fat grams and look at dietery fiber and all that other good (or not so good) stuff. Oh, and serving sizes! Can't forget the good old serving sizes. You have to, have to, have to pay attention to what you're getting.
As a general rule, I'm pretty good at it. I know the calorie counts on my regular products so I don't hesitate to just toss them in the cart when I'm in the grocery store. If I am going to buy something I don't regularly purchase, I make sure to flip it over and read through all the nutritional info.
Like I said . . . as a general rule.
For whatever reason, I just totally spaced on my last grocery shopping trip.
I bought a package of stuffing to make for this recipe (and, by the way, it was phenominal. Hubs ate two helpings and Jaybird finished off the little bit of leftovers for lunch the next day). Lo and behold, I got home and it was low sodium stuffing. Um, ew. I know, I know, I know that I need to be watching the sodium counts but seriously. I had to add half a shaker of salt (how's that for healthy?) for the stuff to taste right.
I also picked up my standard Parkay calorie-free butter. Or so I thought. I usually buy the spray butter. Zero calories -- dudn't get no better. Right? Well, this time I noticed a bottle of squeeze butter right beside the spray butter. Same packaging, same everything, aaaand . . . same price for four ounces more. So, I bought it. Didn't check the label. Got home and, yup, 70 calories per tablespoon. Get it together, B!
Last example: yesterday the kiddos and I found a yardsale on our morning walk to the park. I approached with some apprehension because, in my snobby ass neighborhood, a yardsale means someone has five shirts and an old sofa they're trying to get rid of. This one, though, actually had clothes -- cute clothes -- and in MY NEW SIZE! Score! Dude, I have two kids and spend youdontevenwannaknowhowmuch a month on formula and diapers. I'm all about finding me some "gently worn" clothes at a yard sale. Hook me up!
I scooped up five or six shirts, a dress, a pair of shoes, pair of shorts, and two pair of jeans and only paid $12. Holla!
I got home and tried everything on. For the most part, everything fit. One pair of jeans was a teensy bit big (and they were a size 7/8! OMG!) but not so big they were unwearable. The other pair . . . um . . . it was interesting. I got them on. But if I wanted to, you know, do little things like - oh - breathe and sit down we'd have some issues. On closer inspection, I noticed the tag read "super low rise, skinny fit." In other words, "if you've had two c-sections there ain't no way in hell your ass is fitting in these."
Eh, oh well. I only "wasted" $2 on them. I can live with that . . .
Saturday, November 1, 2008
No Tricks. Just Treats.
Going old school with the Halloween pic-cha's:
Then in 2005 as a Cat. Rawr!
2006 as - what else?
A Mommy!
(Jaybird was only 3 weeks old here!):
Last year - double oh seven -
I was a skunk handler! ;)
Was also about two and half months pregnant:
And last night, with the whole fam:
I'm not exactly sure as to why I decided to post these in my weight loss blog other than to be able to see for myself that I'm smaller than I was before I had kids. I don't have near the booty I had in that picture of me as a cat, but man . . . seeing those pictures compared to this year's pictures just made me feel . . . GOOD! ;)
Now if only I can keep away from the 5 million pounds of Halloween candy I've hidden in the cabinet above the refridgerator . . .
And proof that the sweet tooth is hereditary. Poor kiddo!:
Happy Halloweenie
2004 -- Naughty School Girl:
2004 -- Naughty School Girl:
2006 as - what else?A Mommy!
(Jaybird was only 3 weeks old here!):
Last year - double oh seven -I was a skunk handler! ;)
Was also about two and half months pregnant:
And last night, with the whole fam:
I'm not exactly sure as to why I decided to post these in my weight loss blog other than to be able to see for myself that I'm smaller than I was before I had kids. I don't have near the booty I had in that picture of me as a cat, but man . . . seeing those pictures compared to this year's pictures just made me feel . . . GOOD! ;)Now if only I can keep away from the 5 million pounds of Halloween candy I've hidden in the cabinet above the refridgerator . . .
And proof that the sweet tooth is hereditary. Poor kiddo!:
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Gettin' Jiggly Wit It
The summer that I was 20, I worked as a counselor at a daycamp run by a non-profit. I'll never forget sitting on a bench outside one day as the kids were on the playground. This adorable little boy curled up next to me and smiled a huge grin. I had my arm around the back of the bench and he snuggled into me and then reached up and touched my upper arm.
"Miss Brandi?" he said.
"Yes?"
"Your arms jiggle just like my grandma's!"
I spent a good chunk of my 20's working with kiddos (I later went on to be a site director for an after school program/ summer camp within that same NPO). It's amazing how good children can make you feel and, equally, how quickly they can humble you. I know that in the years I worked with the program, I recieved countless "you're so beautiful's" from children. But I also distinctly remember a five-year-old named Triton following me up the slide one time and saying, "Jeez, Miss Brandi! You sure do have a big ole butt!" And then there was Esmerelda, a kindergartener who poked me in the gut and said, "Do you have babies in there?" I still have a bone to pick with her over that one . . . I did *not* have a big gut at that point in time!
But, I digress.
I was only 20 when that too-cute-for-words kid compared my arms to his Granny's. And, I can assure you, the wingspan then does not even compare to the wingspan I have now. Which means . . . it's time to move on to Phase II. Toning. Buffing up. Jiggly with it no more.
Hubs is supposed to be bringing a BowFlex with him when he comes home tomorrow. I'm excited, but not looking forward to the sore muscles. It's been four years since I did any kind of strength training. Four years! I can remember how that damn Roman Chair made my abs scream a few years ago and, to be perfectly honest, I'm not looking forward to how my arms and legs are going to feel within the next few days.
I can do it . . . I can do it . . . I can do it . . .
BIGGEST LOSER talk -- I absolutely loathe Heba, Vicki, and Brady. Leeeee-oathe them. And, honestly, Amy disappointed me last night when she jumped in on the whole "gang up on Phil" strategy. I'm not looking forward to seeing the Blue team with their smug ass faces when they realize Phil is gone.
Phil and Amy, however, ARE THE CUTEST COUPLE EVER! I love them! I can admit to being a little misty-eyed with how the show ended last night. And Phil - WOW! 106 lbs and he looks great! Go, Phil! Show Brady who's boss! ;)
"Miss Brandi?" he said.
"Yes?"
"Your arms jiggle just like my grandma's!"
I spent a good chunk of my 20's working with kiddos (I later went on to be a site director for an after school program/ summer camp within that same NPO). It's amazing how good children can make you feel and, equally, how quickly they can humble you. I know that in the years I worked with the program, I recieved countless "you're so beautiful's" from children. But I also distinctly remember a five-year-old named Triton following me up the slide one time and saying, "Jeez, Miss Brandi! You sure do have a big ole butt!" And then there was Esmerelda, a kindergartener who poked me in the gut and said, "Do you have babies in there?" I still have a bone to pick with her over that one . . . I did *not* have a big gut at that point in time!
But, I digress.
I was only 20 when that too-cute-for-words kid compared my arms to his Granny's. And, I can assure you, the wingspan then does not even compare to the wingspan I have now. Which means . . . it's time to move on to Phase II. Toning. Buffing up. Jiggly with it no more.
Hubs is supposed to be bringing a BowFlex with him when he comes home tomorrow. I'm excited, but not looking forward to the sore muscles. It's been four years since I did any kind of strength training. Four years! I can remember how that damn Roman Chair made my abs scream a few years ago and, to be perfectly honest, I'm not looking forward to how my arms and legs are going to feel within the next few days.
I can do it . . . I can do it . . . I can do it . . .
BIGGEST LOSER talk -- I absolutely loathe Heba, Vicki, and Brady. Leeeee-oathe them. And, honestly, Amy disappointed me last night when she jumped in on the whole "gang up on Phil" strategy. I'm not looking forward to seeing the Blue team with their smug ass faces when they realize Phil is gone.
Phil and Amy, however, ARE THE CUTEST COUPLE EVER! I love them! I can admit to being a little misty-eyed with how the show ended last night. And Phil - WOW! 106 lbs and he looks great! Go, Phil! Show Brady who's boss! ;)
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Better than Sex
Hubs and I had a kid-free few hours last night. This has only happened twice since KyKy was born five and a half months ago so it was long overdue. We had planned on some *ahem* naughty, naughty things and then heading over to Dave and Buster's. We had to pick the boys up around 11:00 so there wasn't really time to go out go out.
I was putting on my makeup --blissfully, I might add, without a two-year-old grabbing my lipstick to color on his feet with and without a five month old wailing because I wasn't paying enough attention to him. It sort of hit me, "This would be the perfect time to try on clothes."
Have you ever tried to try on clothes with two little bitty ones? I can think of, oh, five or six thousand forms of torture that it doesn't even begin to compare to. From trying to maneuver the stroller into the tiny little room to attempting to keep a toddler from flinging the door open when you have a pair of pants situated somewhere around your ankles . . . se-ooooo.not.fun.
So instead of Dave and Busters, we headed shopping.
We hit the racks with our Vegas trip in mind and Hubs kept handing me clothes, "Here try this on." Ocassionally I would glance at a label and my eyes would bug out at the size, "I can't wear this! Holy crap, babe, this is a size six!" Sheesh. Men.
My arms were full of dresses and dress pants and all kinds of cutesy things as I made my way to the dressing room.
Can I just say that I no longer hate dressing rooms? No, really. It's the truth. I don't even mind the three way mirrors. In fact, I probably spent a little much time checking myself out in the so-not-me-it-ain't-eeeeven-funny dress I bought to wear for our night in Hollywood. I do believe I was even humming a few bars of Carly Simon's "You're so Vain" to myself.
Anyhow.
I tried on a pair of pants and went out to show Hubs how they looked. They fit -- they fit very well in fact. I decided not to get them because they had a weird darting in the front. But, still, they fit.
And when I looked at the tag, I almost fainted. I seriously thought I was going to hyperventilate right then and there in the dressing room.
They were a size six!
Sweet Baby Jesus!
Sure, they may have been made a little larger than most size sixes. Or, heck, maybe they were mis-sized. But I'm not going to think that way and let anything take away from this moment.
I put a pair of size six pants on my body!
And that, my friends, is better than sex.
Know what else is better than sex?
Having a suit with this tag hanging in your closet:
It's not a six, but it's a single digit clothing size. Something I have not owned since, hmmm, 1997-ish?
It's a suit. Do I need a suit? No. But it looked so kick ass on me that, I swear to Moses, I will wear that thing to do the dishes in!
I was putting on my makeup --blissfully, I might add, without a two-year-old grabbing my lipstick to color on his feet with and without a five month old wailing because I wasn't paying enough attention to him. It sort of hit me, "This would be the perfect time to try on clothes."
Have you ever tried to try on clothes with two little bitty ones? I can think of, oh, five or six thousand forms of torture that it doesn't even begin to compare to. From trying to maneuver the stroller into the tiny little room to attempting to keep a toddler from flinging the door open when you have a pair of pants situated somewhere around your ankles . . . se-ooooo.not.fun.
So instead of Dave and Busters, we headed shopping.
We hit the racks with our Vegas trip in mind and Hubs kept handing me clothes, "Here try this on." Ocassionally I would glance at a label and my eyes would bug out at the size, "I can't wear this! Holy crap, babe, this is a size six!" Sheesh. Men.
My arms were full of dresses and dress pants and all kinds of cutesy things as I made my way to the dressing room.
Can I just say that I no longer hate dressing rooms? No, really. It's the truth. I don't even mind the three way mirrors. In fact, I probably spent a little much time checking myself out in the so-not-me-it-ain't-eeeeven-funny dress I bought to wear for our night in Hollywood. I do believe I was even humming a few bars of Carly Simon's "You're so Vain" to myself.
Anyhow.
I tried on a pair of pants and went out to show Hubs how they looked. They fit -- they fit very well in fact. I decided not to get them because they had a weird darting in the front. But, still, they fit.
And when I looked at the tag, I almost fainted. I seriously thought I was going to hyperventilate right then and there in the dressing room.
They were a size six!
Sweet Baby Jesus!
Sure, they may have been made a little larger than most size sixes. Or, heck, maybe they were mis-sized. But I'm not going to think that way and let anything take away from this moment.
I put a pair of size six pants on my body!
And that, my friends, is better than sex.
Know what else is better than sex?
Having a suit with this tag hanging in your closet:
It's not a six, but it's a single digit clothing size. Something I have not owned since, hmmm, 1997-ish?
It's a suit. Do I need a suit? No. But it looked so kick ass on me that, I swear to Moses, I will wear that thing to do the dishes in!
Friday, October 24, 2008
Check It.
Yayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!For purposes of it's way more awesome we're going to round that number down to 147. Plus, I swear to Jesus it said 147.2 before I grabbed my camera.
147!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
When's the last time I saw the 140's? 1997?
I cannot stop smiling these HUGE cheesy grins!
A couple of progress pictures. Or, shall we say, FINAL REVEAL pictures. Woo Hoo!
Note: I'm not wearing the new jeans I was so in love with that I bought last week. Wanna know why? They were BIG! WTF? Note to self: no more trying on jeans right after eating. Duh.
Now. One of my goals was to lose the weight to be able to fit back into this dress. I wore it in 2003 when I was a chaperone to a prom with my then boyfriend. I weigh less than I did then, but my body has changed so much (thanks, kiddos!) that it didn't look right for the longest time. I saw it staring at me in the closet this morning and had to slip it on. I think Imma have to have it taken in a bit before our Vegas trip! Yay!
Thursday, October 23, 2008
If
If I step on the scale tomorrow and do not see a '4' in that middle number, I am going to be one pissed off mama! End of story. Two pounds better be gone. If just one is gone, won't matter. I won't, "well, it's better than not losing anything" or "it's better than gaining." Nuh-uh. I'll be pissed! ;)
Today was the kind of day that makes me SO glad I live in Texas this time of year. (Today was also the kind of not-a-cloud-in-the-sky-day that reminds me of high school football games and frito chili pies and being a junior in high school and peeling out of the school parking lot with 'One Headlight' by the Wallflowers blaring). The temperature warmed up to around 70 this afternoon and there was so much sunshine that it almost - almost - made up for the fact that it was flippin' 42 degrees when I got out of bed this morning. The boys and I were able to take our walk in the afternoon -- and I was able to make it home having NOT sweated profusely. Hello, fall! How do I love thee . . .
It's SO nice to be able to walk in the afternoons and not have to worry about running into the Home Business Nazi Nanny who keeps a family of kiddos in my neighborhood and can't take the hint that no, I do not want to sell Tahitian Nu-Nu Juice from the comforts of my own home. We see her and her stroller brigrade practically every single morning (and I generally end up turning and fleeing the other direction) but there was neither hide nor hair of her seen this afternoon. *Crosses fingers it stays that way*
Daily Menu for Friday (I hope to God I'm not strictly following this and, instead, I'm tracking my calories over on The Daily Plate):
Breakfast:
Oatmeal
2 slices toast
Total Points: 4
Lunch:
Chili Dog
Chips
Total Points: 6
Snack
2 Hungry Girl Chocolate Muffins
Total Points: 4
Dinner
Chicken Strips
Oven Fries
Total Points: 7
Snack
Hershey's Stick
Total Points: 1
Daily Points Total: 21
'Nother IF: If I do reach my goal in the morning, this blog is getting a complete makeover! Yay! I'm currently trying to dream up cutesy tags to replace the too-boring-double-yawn ones I have going on right now. *Puts thinking cap on*
Today was the kind of day that makes me SO glad I live in Texas this time of year. (Today was also the kind of not-a-cloud-in-the-sky-day that reminds me of high school football games and frito chili pies and being a junior in high school and peeling out of the school parking lot with 'One Headlight' by the Wallflowers blaring). The temperature warmed up to around 70 this afternoon and there was so much sunshine that it almost - almost - made up for the fact that it was flippin' 42 degrees when I got out of bed this morning. The boys and I were able to take our walk in the afternoon -- and I was able to make it home having NOT sweated profusely. Hello, fall! How do I love thee . . .
It's SO nice to be able to walk in the afternoons and not have to worry about running into the Home Business Nazi Nanny who keeps a family of kiddos in my neighborhood and can't take the hint that no, I do not want to sell Tahitian Nu-Nu Juice from the comforts of my own home. We see her and her stroller brigrade practically every single morning (and I generally end up turning and fleeing the other direction) but there was neither hide nor hair of her seen this afternoon. *Crosses fingers it stays that way*
Daily Menu for Friday (I hope to God I'm not strictly following this and, instead, I'm tracking my calories over on The Daily Plate):
Breakfast:
Oatmeal
2 slices toast
Total Points: 4
Lunch:
Chili Dog
Chips
Total Points: 6
Snack
2 Hungry Girl Chocolate Muffins
Total Points: 4
Dinner
Chicken Strips
Oven Fries
Total Points: 7
Snack
Hershey's Stick
Total Points: 1
Daily Points Total: 21
'Nother IF: If I do reach my goal in the morning, this blog is getting a complete makeover! Yay! I'm currently trying to dream up cutesy tags to replace the too-boring-double-yawn ones I have going on right now. *Puts thinking cap on*
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Crapburger
I have felt like a complete crapburger all week.
I feel like a crappy daughter. Today is my mom's 50th birthday. The boys and I were planning on going in to surprise her. Buuuut. My stepdad planned a surprise birthday dinner for her, changed the date on us, and made it completely inconvenient for us to make the trip. Blah. I feel like a crappy wife. Hubs has obviously been missing me a lot this week, given the number of times he calls every single day. And instead of being thankful and enjoying all the conversations, I keep getting irritated at the timing of his calls or trying to hurry and get off the phone. Sigh. I've been crappy about exercising. I skipped my workout while the boys were napping yesterday so that I could nap. Not a habit I want to get into.
Oh, and I've had a really bad headache all week as well. I hope it's not related to blood pressure. I really need to schedule my yearly. So I can check on that said blood pressure AND knock my doctor's socks off with my weight loss.
Most of all . . . I feel like I've been a crappy mother. I hate that feeling because I know I'm a good mom. But, man, this wek the boys have just been dancing all over my nerves. I find myself counting the hours, then minutes until naptime. And then counting the hours, then minutes until bedtime. I don't like doing that.
It was super cloudy when we decided to take our walk this morning. I checked the weather, though, and it was 63 degrees outside and no rain predicted until the afternoon. So we got ready to go. We stepped outside and the wind obviously made 63 degrees feel much cooler. I had Jaybird in short sleeves, but decided not to grab a jacket. I could see the sun peeking through and figured once it really came out, the jacket would end up being something else I had to carry. We made it the next street over and Jaybird told me, "I cold." Ugh, talk about feeling crappy.
I decided to head back home and grab a jacket. The very minute I turned the stroller around, I felt drops of water. A bird had just flown by and I honestly thought, "Mmkay, I got what I deserve for taking my kid out without a jacket. A bird peed on me."
Not so much. It was raining. Ugh.
I figured I could make a run for it. The air was too chilly to have both boys out in the rain.
Yeah, I figured wrong.
I may have lost weight but I am nowhere near fit enough to take up running anytime soon. I made it about half a block before my lungs were burning and my shin splints were absolutely killing me. The only "good" thing? My boobage has shrunk enough that I didn't have to worry about poking myself in the eye with a nipple.
Anyhow.
Last night's The Biggest Loser: Ummmm, I used to like Heba. Liked her quite a bit. Now? She's a heinous beyotch. So is Vicky. And, yup, so is Brady. If I had heard Vicky say, "It doesn't matter, I'm not going home no matter what" one more time I was going to SCREAM! Um, I thought the whole point was about losing weight. Sheesh. I was so, so sad to see Amy go. I am now rooting for Phil large time. Go Phil!
Daily Menu for Thursday (maybe the very last day I'll be eating by a daily menu -- eeeee!):
Breakfast:
Apple Cinnamon Pancakes
Total Points: 4
Lunch:
Chicken Nachos
Raisinettes
Total Points: 7
Snack:
Apple slices w/ caramel
Total Points: 2
Dinner:
Grilled Salmon
Baked Potato
Bread
Total Points: 5
Snack:
Jello
Total Points: 0
Daily Points Total: 18
I feel like a crappy daughter. Today is my mom's 50th birthday. The boys and I were planning on going in to surprise her. Buuuut. My stepdad planned a surprise birthday dinner for her, changed the date on us, and made it completely inconvenient for us to make the trip. Blah. I feel like a crappy wife. Hubs has obviously been missing me a lot this week, given the number of times he calls every single day. And instead of being thankful and enjoying all the conversations, I keep getting irritated at the timing of his calls or trying to hurry and get off the phone. Sigh. I've been crappy about exercising. I skipped my workout while the boys were napping yesterday so that I could nap. Not a habit I want to get into.
Oh, and I've had a really bad headache all week as well. I hope it's not related to blood pressure. I really need to schedule my yearly. So I can check on that said blood pressure AND knock my doctor's socks off with my weight loss.
Most of all . . . I feel like I've been a crappy mother. I hate that feeling because I know I'm a good mom. But, man, this wek the boys have just been dancing all over my nerves. I find myself counting the hours, then minutes until naptime. And then counting the hours, then minutes until bedtime. I don't like doing that.
It was super cloudy when we decided to take our walk this morning. I checked the weather, though, and it was 63 degrees outside and no rain predicted until the afternoon. So we got ready to go. We stepped outside and the wind obviously made 63 degrees feel much cooler. I had Jaybird in short sleeves, but decided not to grab a jacket. I could see the sun peeking through and figured once it really came out, the jacket would end up being something else I had to carry. We made it the next street over and Jaybird told me, "I cold." Ugh, talk about feeling crappy.
I decided to head back home and grab a jacket. The very minute I turned the stroller around, I felt drops of water. A bird had just flown by and I honestly thought, "Mmkay, I got what I deserve for taking my kid out without a jacket. A bird peed on me."
Not so much. It was raining. Ugh.
I figured I could make a run for it. The air was too chilly to have both boys out in the rain.
Yeah, I figured wrong.
I may have lost weight but I am nowhere near fit enough to take up running anytime soon. I made it about half a block before my lungs were burning and my shin splints were absolutely killing me. The only "good" thing? My boobage has shrunk enough that I didn't have to worry about poking myself in the eye with a nipple.
Anyhow.
Last night's The Biggest Loser: Ummmm, I used to like Heba. Liked her quite a bit. Now? She's a heinous beyotch. So is Vicky. And, yup, so is Brady. If I had heard Vicky say, "It doesn't matter, I'm not going home no matter what" one more time I was going to SCREAM! Um, I thought the whole point was about losing weight. Sheesh. I was so, so sad to see Amy go. I am now rooting for Phil large time. Go Phil!
Daily Menu for Thursday (maybe the very last day I'll be eating by a daily menu -- eeeee!):
Breakfast:
Apple Cinnamon Pancakes
Total Points: 4
Lunch:
Chicken Nachos
Raisinettes
Total Points: 7
Snack:
Apple slices w/ caramel
Total Points: 2
Dinner:
Grilled Salmon
Baked Potato
Bread
Total Points: 5
Snack:
Jello
Total Points: 0
Daily Points Total: 18
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
I Wish . . .
. . . my husband would be more interested in getting healthy.
I don't care about weight. I just wish he'd be more interested in eating healthier. It irritates me to call him and hear, "I had pork chops tonight" or "I had fried chicken." He eats out practically every single meal and we're not talking salads, people.
Sigh.
I know without a doubt that I wouldn't have dropped this weight if he worked here and were home every night. Well, at any rate, it would have taken a lot more willpower. I just wish . . . I wish he were more "into" this "let's get healthy" thing. If not for him and if not for me then for our kiddos.
*Shrugs*
Daily Menu for Wednesday:
Breakfast:
Breakfast Scramble
Biscuits
Total Points: 5
Lunch:
Chicken Taco Soup
Chips
Raisinettes
Total Points: 6
Snack:
Brownie w/caramel
Total Points: 2
Dinner:
Parmesan Chicken
Mashed Potatoes
Green Beans
Garlic Bread
Total Points: 7
Snack
Hello
Total Points: 0
Daily Points Total: 20
I don't care about weight. I just wish he'd be more interested in eating healthier. It irritates me to call him and hear, "I had pork chops tonight" or "I had fried chicken." He eats out practically every single meal and we're not talking salads, people.
Sigh.
I know without a doubt that I wouldn't have dropped this weight if he worked here and were home every night. Well, at any rate, it would have taken a lot more willpower. I just wish . . . I wish he were more "into" this "let's get healthy" thing. If not for him and if not for me then for our kiddos.
*Shrugs*
Daily Menu for Wednesday:
Breakfast:
Breakfast Scramble
Biscuits
Total Points: 5
Lunch:
Chicken Taco Soup
Chips
Raisinettes
Total Points: 6
Snack:
Brownie w/caramel
Total Points: 2
Dinner:
Parmesan Chicken
Mashed Potatoes
Green Beans
Garlic Bread
Total Points: 7
Snack
Hello
Total Points: 0
Daily Points Total: 20
Monday, October 20, 2008
Turkey, Cranberries, and Pie . . . Oh My!
We're just a little over a month from the best food holiday of the year: Thanksgiving!
I am so, so, so extremely excited for our trip to California/ Vegas in November, but there is one little teensy disappointment: we'll be on a plane from Denver back to Little Rock (my kids will be staying with my family in Arkansas so we're flying in and out of LR) while my family is grubbing up on turkey and dressing.
Every year around this time I start craving all the yummy things that makes Thanksgiving so delicious. Deep fried turkey. Smoked ham. STUFFING (one of my favorites!). Potato casserole (hello, lover!). Cranberry sauce. Homemade hot rolls. Pumpkin pie. And, of course, at least one or two quirky dishes that have you saying, "Really? For Thanksgiving?" (Butcha love it anyway -- one year it was tamales. Mmmm, I think that was my favorite)!
I know I shouldn't be complaining in the least considering I'll be eating my very first In-and-Out burger. And I'll try Roscoe's Chicken and Waffles for the first time. And I'm sure I'll dive into one of those famous Vegas buffets. But, dammit, none of that is turkey and dressing in front of the Cowboys game! *Pouts*
I'm seriously considering a Thanksgiving-style meal for just our little family before we go. But seeing as I've never so much as attempted to make a turkey before, that could get pretty in-te-rest-ing. Hmm.
Tonight I made a healthified taco bake. Jaybird and I loved it so I thought I would pass on the recipe. Keep it mind I was just baking for two so you'll need to double (or more) the recipe depending on how many you cook for.
Ingredients:
30 Baked Doritos, crushed
2/3 cup Morningstar Grillers Crumbles
1/4 cup 98% Fat Free Cream of Mushroom Soup
2 tablespoons Salsa
1/2 cup Black Beans
Low Fat or Fat Free Shredded Cheese (I used 1 pouch of the WW 2-pt cheddar cheese)
Heat crumbles over the stove with soup and salsa. Layer in a casserole dish:
Crushed Doritos
Black Beans
Crumbles
Top with shredded cheese
Cover and bake 15-20 minutes at 400. We're not big lettuce and tomato eaters in our family, but these can be added (as can FF sour cream). Enjoy!
By the way: When I calculated it yesterday, I didn't add in the black beans. One serving is 6 WW points (rather than five as when I made my daily menu yesterday).
I also made Orange Dreamsicle Delights today. I wasn't too impressed (tasted too artificial), but Jaybird absolutely loved it. That's another one of those that stays in the recipe box, but only to be made for the kiddos.
Daily Menu for Tuesday:
Breakfast:
Oatmeal
2 slices toast
Total Points: 4
Lunch:
Mexican Pizza
Fun sized Raisinettes (yup, I made it a whole day without them. Cannot do two days in a row)!
Total Points: 6
Snack
Pringles Sticks
Total Points: 2
Dinner
French Onion Chicken and Potato Bake
Green Beans
Bread
Total Points: 7
Snack
Baked Pear Slices
Total Points: 1
Daily Total: 20
I am so, so, so extremely excited for our trip to California/ Vegas in November, but there is one little teensy disappointment: we'll be on a plane from Denver back to Little Rock (my kids will be staying with my family in Arkansas so we're flying in and out of LR) while my family is grubbing up on turkey and dressing.
Every year around this time I start craving all the yummy things that makes Thanksgiving so delicious. Deep fried turkey. Smoked ham. STUFFING (one of my favorites!). Potato casserole (hello, lover!). Cranberry sauce. Homemade hot rolls. Pumpkin pie. And, of course, at least one or two quirky dishes that have you saying, "Really? For Thanksgiving?" (Butcha love it anyway -- one year it was tamales. Mmmm, I think that was my favorite)!
I know I shouldn't be complaining in the least considering I'll be eating my very first In-and-Out burger. And I'll try Roscoe's Chicken and Waffles for the first time. And I'm sure I'll dive into one of those famous Vegas buffets. But, dammit, none of that is turkey and dressing in front of the Cowboys game! *Pouts*
I'm seriously considering a Thanksgiving-style meal for just our little family before we go. But seeing as I've never so much as attempted to make a turkey before, that could get pretty in-te-rest-ing. Hmm.
Tonight I made a healthified taco bake. Jaybird and I loved it so I thought I would pass on the recipe. Keep it mind I was just baking for two so you'll need to double (or more) the recipe depending on how many you cook for.
Ingredients:
30 Baked Doritos, crushed
2/3 cup Morningstar Grillers Crumbles
1/4 cup 98% Fat Free Cream of Mushroom Soup
2 tablespoons Salsa
1/2 cup Black Beans
Low Fat or Fat Free Shredded Cheese (I used 1 pouch of the WW 2-pt cheddar cheese)
Heat crumbles over the stove with soup and salsa. Layer in a casserole dish:
Crushed Doritos
Black Beans
Crumbles
Top with shredded cheese
Cover and bake 15-20 minutes at 400. We're not big lettuce and tomato eaters in our family, but these can be added (as can FF sour cream). Enjoy!
By the way: When I calculated it yesterday, I didn't add in the black beans. One serving is 6 WW points (rather than five as when I made my daily menu yesterday).
I also made Orange Dreamsicle Delights today. I wasn't too impressed (tasted too artificial), but Jaybird absolutely loved it. That's another one of those that stays in the recipe box, but only to be made for the kiddos.
Daily Menu for Tuesday:
Breakfast:
Oatmeal
2 slices toast
Total Points: 4
Lunch:
Mexican Pizza
Fun sized Raisinettes (yup, I made it a whole day without them. Cannot do two days in a row)!
Total Points: 6
Snack
Pringles Sticks
Total Points: 2
Dinner
French Onion Chicken and Potato Bake
Green Beans
Bread
Total Points: 7
Snack
Baked Pear Slices
Total Points: 1
Daily Total: 20
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Thanks
Never doing that again: I'd bought a can of chicken for a recipe that I never ended up trying. Rather than boiling a chicken breast, I decided to use it in the chicken stuffing casserole I made tonight. Um, no. Never again. Nasty and so not in a good way. I don't think I've ever eaten canned chicken before (at least not that I know of) and I won't be eating it again in the future. Nuh-uh.
Found this article on Yahoo this morning: http://shine.yahoo.com/channel/health/5-things-i-learned-from-jillian-michaels-281808/ It's five lessons learned from Jillian Michaels (a.k.a one of my girl crushes) of the Biggest Loser. They're all good points, but this one did stand out to me:
5.) JUST SAY THANK YOU.When I told Jillian how much weight I've lost, she congratulated me. And then (as I always do), I added, "But I still have a long way to go." "Stop," she said. "What does that do," she said, "apart from negate everything you've already accomplished? You're being self-deprecating and disempowering, and that doesn't serve anyone-and especially not you. Be proud of what you've done for yourself."
Dude, how guilty am I of that?
Very.
To be perfectly honest, I can't remember EVER accepting a compliment with a simple "thank you." It's always been, "Oh, thanks, but I still have ___ pounds to go."
Why do we do that? Why do I do that?
Why can't we just leave it at simply thank you, appreciate the compliment, maybe even take a moment to revel in it and then move on?
Hmm.
Note to self: From now on, leave it at thanks.
Daily Menu for Monday:
Breakfast
Hash Browns
Egg Beaters
1 Slice Bacon
2 Biscuits
Total Points: 5
Lunch
Sandwhich
2 Rice Cakes
Total Points: 6
Snack
Orange Dreamsicle Delight (FYI: the nutrional info is off on this. For four servings, it's actually 165 calories per serving, making it 3 WW points)
Total Points: 3
Dinner
Taco Bake (I'm going to attempt to health-ify a much loved recipe. If it works out, I'll post it tomorrow)
Refried Beans
Total Points: 6
Snack
Vanilla Pudding
Total Points: 1
Daily Points Total: 21
Note: First day in, hmm, a week that no Raisinettes have been on the menu. And, yup, they're still in the pantry. Can I do it?
Found this article on Yahoo this morning: http://shine.yahoo.com/channel/health/5-things-i-learned-from-jillian-michaels-281808/ It's five lessons learned from Jillian Michaels (a.k.a one of my girl crushes) of the Biggest Loser. They're all good points, but this one did stand out to me:
5.) JUST SAY THANK YOU.When I told Jillian how much weight I've lost, she congratulated me. And then (as I always do), I added, "But I still have a long way to go." "Stop," she said. "What does that do," she said, "apart from negate everything you've already accomplished? You're being self-deprecating and disempowering, and that doesn't serve anyone-and especially not you. Be proud of what you've done for yourself."
Dude, how guilty am I of that?
Very.
To be perfectly honest, I can't remember EVER accepting a compliment with a simple "thank you." It's always been, "Oh, thanks, but I still have ___ pounds to go."
Why do we do that? Why do I do that?
Why can't we just leave it at simply thank you, appreciate the compliment, maybe even take a moment to revel in it and then move on?
Hmm.
Note to self: From now on, leave it at thanks.
Daily Menu for Monday:
Breakfast
Hash Browns
Egg Beaters
1 Slice Bacon
2 Biscuits
Total Points: 5
Lunch
Sandwhich
2 Rice Cakes
Total Points: 6
Snack
Orange Dreamsicle Delight (FYI: the nutrional info is off on this. For four servings, it's actually 165 calories per serving, making it 3 WW points)
Total Points: 3
Dinner
Taco Bake (I'm going to attempt to health-ify a much loved recipe. If it works out, I'll post it tomorrow)
Refried Beans
Total Points: 6
Snack
Vanilla Pudding
Total Points: 1
Daily Points Total: 21
Note: First day in, hmm, a week that no Raisinettes have been on the menu. And, yup, they're still in the pantry. Can I do it?
Saturday, October 18, 2008
With a Soda on the Side
We all have our little weird food quirks. I, for example, like cheap frozen pizzas (the Totinos kind that are always being run on sale for 99 cents). I'll take one of those other the exorbantly priced, though deicious, pre-sliced, thin crust it's-not-delivery-it's-DiGiorno anyday. I also like those cheapie Mexican TV dinners. The ones that come with a couple of enchiladas about the size of a pinkie finger and a small dollop of rice and refried beans. I don't eat those TV dinners because, well, I *don't* like what they do to my digestive system.
And then, of course, there is this food quirk: if I'm going to eat chicken noodle soup I want it to come from a can that looks like this:
And then, of course, there is this food quirk: if I'm going to eat chicken noodle soup I want it to come from a can that looks like this:
Homemade? No thanks. Funny shaped noodles? Nuh-uh. Extra veggies? I'll pass. I want broth, skinny noodles, and five or six miniscule pieces of chicken. That is what chicken noodle soup is supposed to be.
Needless to say, the Progresso Light variety of chicken noodle that I tried today has been added to the "nuh-uh" list. There are some things that you just can't go low sodium in and chicken noodle soup is one of those. Let's face it, it tastes better once you've poured it over a whole sleeve of saltine crackers anyway. And, honestly, adding real pieces of carrots to it? *Blech*
I'll stick with the Santa Fe Chicken, thankyaverymuch!
New Obsession: Kraftfoods -- I've been scouring this looking for recipes that I can make and attempt to healthy up. I can't wait to try this one (I'd make it this week if I had some pesto!) and this one (I'd gnaw off my arm if it was made of stuffing -- even the boxed kind, even the knock off Stove Top. I love any kind of stuffing which makes me so NOT be able to believe that I'll be on a plane while my whole fam is diving into Thanksgiving dinner!)
New Obsession 2: Figuring out a way to justify spending $168 on this dress given that it's so close to the holidays. Sigh. I want it.
New Obsession 3: Fazoli's breasticks. Okay, not so much THEM that's the obsession but wondering why the closest Fazoli's to me is 75 miles away in Waco! *Cries* I want one of those breadsticks sooooo bad.
Daily Menu for Sunday:
Breakfast
Apple cinnamon pancakes
Total Points: 4
Lunch
Baked potato with chili, cheese, and jalapenos
Fun-sized Raisinettes
Total Points: 6
Snack
Chips and Dip (Tostito's Salsa con Queso is just 40 calories [1 WW point] for a 2 tablespoon serving -- holla!)
Total points: 3
Dinner
Chicken Stuffing Casserole (the previous linked recipe inspired a craving for this favorite comfort food!)
Green Beans
Garlic Bread
Total Points: 7
Snack
Hershey's Stick
Total Points: 1
Daily Points Total: 21
Friday, October 17, 2008
"It's Like Being with a Different Woman."
Caution: One of those good old TMI entries.
I put KyKy down for a nap yesterday morning and locked the two older kids into a room with a video so the hubs and I could finally, finally get some *ahem* alone time. Two kiddos two and under plus visiting stepdaughter meant, well, not much alone time at all here lately. It was past needed.
There was all the touchy-feely stuff going on and in the midst of all this, my husband - who is known for saying wrong thing/ wrong time (he actually exclaimed - just three hours after my c-section his delight in the fact that we'd be able to 'do it' before the six weeks was up since I'd been gutted rather than having a vaginal birth. Apparently, seeing my innards and a doctor's arm stuck elbow deep in my hoo hoo turned him on) - uttered these words, "It's like being with a whole different woman."
I know I should have taken it as a compliment.
I'm pretty sure he meant it as a comliment.
However.
His hand just so happened to be groping one of the girls when he said this. And, well, the girls? They ain't what they used to be . . . ain't what they used to be . . . ain't what they used to be.
In fact, as of now, they're mere shadows of their former selves. I can remember being 19 with perky, big boobs that I could show off in the cutest of tops. I can remember being in a club one time when some Abercrombie-ish a-hole walked past me and said, "Nice rack, Zebra." (I was wearing a zebra-print shirt, FYI). The girls have always been my best asset.
Well, not anymore. They're less than a man-sized handfull. My c-cup bra's have some extra room in them. I refuse to buy a B. I'll go sixth grade and stuff cotton balls if I have to!
I'm not sure if the loss of boobage is entirely due to weight loss or if some if it can be attributed to pregnancy/ child birth. Regardless, it's hard. I come from a long, long line of tig old bitties (I'm talking G cups, people!) and right now mine are quickly resembling skeeter bites again.
I wonder if I prayed tonight for big boobs like I did when I was a little girl, if God would give them back to me . . .
Daily Menu for Saturday (I better weigh in at 149 next Friday so I never, ever have to do a daily menu ever again! Gah!!)
Breakfast
Breakfast Scramble
1 slice toast
Total Points: 4
Lunch
Cup of soup
Sandwhich
Apple slices with caramel
Total Points: 7
Snack
Vanilla Pudding
Rice Cake
Total Points: 2
Dinner
Vegan burger w/ bacon and cheese (the menu changed for today so this is being bumped to tomorow)
Onion Rings
Total Points: 6
Snack
Fun sized Raisinettes
Total Points: 2
Daily Points Total: 21
I put KyKy down for a nap yesterday morning and locked the two older kids into a room with a video so the hubs and I could finally, finally get some *ahem* alone time. Two kiddos two and under plus visiting stepdaughter meant, well, not much alone time at all here lately. It was past needed.
There was all the touchy-feely stuff going on and in the midst of all this, my husband - who is known for saying wrong thing/ wrong time (he actually exclaimed - just three hours after my c-section his delight in the fact that we'd be able to 'do it' before the six weeks was up since I'd been gutted rather than having a vaginal birth. Apparently, seeing my innards and a doctor's arm stuck elbow deep in my hoo hoo turned him on) - uttered these words, "It's like being with a whole different woman."
I know I should have taken it as a compliment.
I'm pretty sure he meant it as a comliment.
However.
His hand just so happened to be groping one of the girls when he said this. And, well, the girls? They ain't what they used to be . . . ain't what they used to be . . . ain't what they used to be.
In fact, as of now, they're mere shadows of their former selves. I can remember being 19 with perky, big boobs that I could show off in the cutest of tops. I can remember being in a club one time when some Abercrombie-ish a-hole walked past me and said, "Nice rack, Zebra." (I was wearing a zebra-print shirt, FYI). The girls have always been my best asset.
Well, not anymore. They're less than a man-sized handfull. My c-cup bra's have some extra room in them. I refuse to buy a B. I'll go sixth grade and stuff cotton balls if I have to!
I'm not sure if the loss of boobage is entirely due to weight loss or if some if it can be attributed to pregnancy/ child birth. Regardless, it's hard. I come from a long, long line of tig old bitties (I'm talking G cups, people!) and right now mine are quickly resembling skeeter bites again.
I wonder if I prayed tonight for big boobs like I did when I was a little girl, if God would give them back to me . . .
Daily Menu for Saturday (I better weigh in at 149 next Friday so I never, ever have to do a daily menu ever again! Gah!!)
Breakfast
Breakfast Scramble
1 slice toast
Total Points: 4
Lunch
Cup of soup
Sandwhich
Apple slices with caramel
Total Points: 7
Snack
Vanilla Pudding
Rice Cake
Total Points: 2
Dinner
Vegan burger w/ bacon and cheese (the menu changed for today so this is being bumped to tomorow)
Onion Rings
Total Points: 6
Snack
Fun sized Raisinettes
Total Points: 2
Daily Points Total: 21
Thursday, October 16, 2008
I am in Love . . . with a Pair of JEANS
Our trip to the state fair was canceled today. It rained yesterday and was just . . . icky outside. We decided to take the kids to the mall instead. Z could ice skate, Jaybird could play in the kids area, and Mama could find some jeans that would stay on her butt!
I had already decided I was going to be putting a lot of $$ into any jeans because, well, first off I never put a lot of money into jeans. And, second, I don't know if I'm going to stay at this size or go down anymore. I don't PLAN to go down anymore. But . . . I don't want it to be the week before our Cali/Vegas trip and I have all these super cute clothes but have saggy crotch in them, ya know?
So, yeah. I went to Steve and Barry's and checked out their Bitten by Sarah Jessica Parker (LOVE HER!) line. Hubs decided he and Z would skate while the boys and I shopped. Ever attempted to try on clothes with a five month old and a two year old in tow? Yeah. I'd rather staple my tongue. Repeatedly. 'Twas.not.fun.
I took a size eight and a size ten to the dressing room. Let me just say right now, it's been a good six or seven years - possibly longer - since I fit into a ten. I know I can remember wearing 10's when I worked at JC Penney. This was in the year 2000. I don't know if I still fit into them after that. I just cannot remember. Last time I wore a size 8? Oh, try 1997. Yeah.
Cannot tell you why but I was hoping and praying that I could squeeze my I-like-big-butts-and-I-cannot-lie into the size eight. Over the moon with a ten, but an eight? I probably would have curled and and died of happiness right there in the dressing room.
I tried the eights first. I got them on. Zipped them up. BUTTONED THEM. Alas, however, couldn't breathe. Bummer. The tens, however, fit perfectly.
Maybe a little too perfectly.
I only paid $14.98 for these jeans and I think I'm a little bit in love with them. I kept attempting to check myself out in the dressing room mirror, but Jaybird was busy trying to open the door and KyKy was screaming. So I had to scramble back into my (way too big) clothes. But, I tried the jeans on for Hubs when I got home and took the time to check out my assetts in the mirror. Repeatedly.
I love these jeans.
Maybe I'll sleep in them tonight . . . . *happy sigh*
** Weighed in today (and then ended up not eating that damn chicken fried bacon -- did have a [nasty-that's-what-you-get-for-ordering-a-burger-at-a-sea-food-place] cheeeeburger though). Weighed the same as I did last week. Woot! No change is good considering everything I ate over the weekend. *Pats self on back*
Daily Menu for Friday:
Breakfast
Oatmeal
2 slices toast
Total Points: 4
Lunch
Chicken Taco Soup (there is a link to this recipe a few entries down -- it is PHENOMENAL! My picky-as-heyyyyyy stepdaughter ate FOUR bowls of it Wednesday night and another tonight!)
Chips
Fun Sized Raisinettes (my weakness!)
Total Points: 6.5
Snack:
2 Cookies (they look tooooo good)
Total Points: 4
Dinner
Vegan burger w/ cheese and bacon
HG Onion Rings
Total Points: 6
Snack:
Hershey's Stick
Total Points: 1
Daily Points Total: 21.5
I had already decided I was going to be putting a lot of $$ into any jeans because, well, first off I never put a lot of money into jeans. And, second, I don't know if I'm going to stay at this size or go down anymore. I don't PLAN to go down anymore. But . . . I don't want it to be the week before our Cali/Vegas trip and I have all these super cute clothes but have saggy crotch in them, ya know?
So, yeah. I went to Steve and Barry's and checked out their Bitten by Sarah Jessica Parker (LOVE HER!) line. Hubs decided he and Z would skate while the boys and I shopped. Ever attempted to try on clothes with a five month old and a two year old in tow? Yeah. I'd rather staple my tongue. Repeatedly. 'Twas.not.fun.
I took a size eight and a size ten to the dressing room. Let me just say right now, it's been a good six or seven years - possibly longer - since I fit into a ten. I know I can remember wearing 10's when I worked at JC Penney. This was in the year 2000. I don't know if I still fit into them after that. I just cannot remember. Last time I wore a size 8? Oh, try 1997. Yeah.
Cannot tell you why but I was hoping and praying that I could squeeze my I-like-big-butts-and-I-cannot-lie into the size eight. Over the moon with a ten, but an eight? I probably would have curled and and died of happiness right there in the dressing room.
I tried the eights first. I got them on. Zipped them up. BUTTONED THEM. Alas, however, couldn't breathe. Bummer. The tens, however, fit perfectly.
Maybe a little too perfectly.
I only paid $14.98 for these jeans and I think I'm a little bit in love with them. I kept attempting to check myself out in the dressing room mirror, but Jaybird was busy trying to open the door and KyKy was screaming. So I had to scramble back into my (way too big) clothes. But, I tried the jeans on for Hubs when I got home and took the time to check out my assetts in the mirror. Repeatedly.
I love these jeans.
Maybe I'll sleep in them tonight . . . . *happy sigh*
** Weighed in today (and then ended up not eating that damn chicken fried bacon -- did have a [nasty-that's-what-you-get-for-ordering-a-burger-at-a-sea-food-place] cheeeeburger though). Weighed the same as I did last week. Woot! No change is good considering everything I ate over the weekend. *Pats self on back*
Daily Menu for Friday:
Breakfast
Oatmeal
2 slices toast
Total Points: 4
Lunch
Chicken Taco Soup (there is a link to this recipe a few entries down -- it is PHENOMENAL! My picky-as-heyyyyyy stepdaughter ate FOUR bowls of it Wednesday night and another tonight!)
Chips
Fun Sized Raisinettes (my weakness!)
Total Points: 6.5
Snack:
2 Cookies (they look tooooo good)
Total Points: 4
Dinner
Vegan burger w/ cheese and bacon
HG Onion Rings
Total Points: 6
Snack:
Hershey's Stick
Total Points: 1
Daily Points Total: 21.5
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Worst Day of My Life
Tomorrow is the two year anniversary of the worst day of my entire life. It was worse than the day I found out my father had passed away. It was worse than packing up and leaving my oldest son's father. It was just too much just plain awful to be wrapped up into one day.
For starters, I was only six days post-partum. I had a six-day-old baby who was totally and completely dependant on me. A baby that I was head over heels in love with, but still had no clue how to take care of. I would look at him and think how much I love him . . . and also think how in the heck did I become a mom? What was God thinking? Why did he give ME a kid?
Around 9:00 on the morning of October 16, 2006, my beloved Granny passed away. She had been on this earth 99 years. 99 years. We knew the end was coming. She had been sick all summer but was holding on to see the births of her two newest great-great grandchildren (my cousin's daughter in August; my Jaybird in October). She had a stroke the night after Jaybird was born and never recovered. We knew she was in a better place. In the minutes before she died, she told my aunt, "I can see Bee [her husband]" and then "Mama! I see my Mama!" We knew she was once again with people she loved, people she hadn't seen for many years. Her suffering was over. For that, we were glad. But it was so terribly hard to lose the heart and soul and very foundation of our family. It shook our worlds. Here it's been two years and I still find myself thinking, "I need to send that picture to Granny" or "Maybe I should call Granny and tell her what Jaybird did today."
Losing Granny was bad enough, but the day only got worse from there. Worse than I ever would have - or could have - imagined. My c-section incision was infected. I managed to be squeezed in for an appointment at my doctor's office only to be told he wasn't sure what was attacking my body. He sent me to the hospital for "24 hours of antibiotics." Shortly after we got to the hospital, my grandmother arrived and took my Jaybird. He couldn't stay with me.
I remember calling a friend and just sobbing. "They won't let me keep my baby. My grandma came and got Jaidan. I want my Jaidan."
It was a couple hours after that that my infection finally had a diagnosis: necrotizing fasciitis. It was something we'd never even heard of until that very moment and then had to stand there with a doctor telling me, "This is very serious. We have to operate and we have to operate now." Just HOW serious is it? "Surgery NOW or die."
There is nothing like being faced with a near death experience at the age of 26 to totally and completely put things into perspective for you. There are different things in my life that I would request a "do over" for in a heartbeat. And, believe me, there is no way I would want to go through the physical pain involved with NF ever, ever, ever again. There is no way I would want to go through the emotional pain involved with knowing you came very close to losing your life nor would I want to go through the raw pain of being separated from my tiny baby for 11 days. BUT, that experience changed me and in so many ways it made me who I am today.
Two years ago, I would have thought October 16th would have been a day to be met with anger and frustration. But now I can look back and see how totally and completely blessed I am. I was told I wouldn't have any more children . . . my KyKy man is living proof that 'they' don't always know what they're talking about. I was told I might not walk again . . . my left leg may not be as strong as my right leg, but dammit it gets my boys and I to the park every morning. I'm here and I'm alive and I'm breathing and I can soak up every single second of the lives of these precious, precious boys . . . I am blessed. Blessed beyond measure or comprehension.
That doesn't meet the day isn't met without emotion. October 16th will always be an extremely emotional day for me. It will be tough for me this year. Tough to keep from participating in one of my favorite pasttimes: emotional eating. I know that my mindset tomorrow will be, "I deserve this because of everything I overcame." "I deserve this because think of where I was two years ago."
But you know what I DO deserve? I deserve to take care of this body I've been given . . . even if it includes a hip bone to hip bone scar, lumpy "front butt" belly, and a leg that aches when it rains. I deserve to be able to get down on the floor and REALLY play with my boys. I deserve to be able to check myself out in the mirror and say, "Lookin' good, Mama." THAT is what I deserve and every single one of those things is so much better and more precious than a twinkie or a chocolate chip cookie.
Hubs and I have a big day planned tomorrow, partly to keep my mind off of the total emotional-ness of the day. If the weather cooperates, we'll be taking the kids to state fair. Emotional eating I have no plans to do, but I *do* plan on splitting some chicken fried bacon with the crew (COME ON - chicken fried bacon?? That's like all the best artery clogging goodness all rolled into one food. I must try it). Therefore no daily menu for tomorrow. We be wingin' it.
I'm also considering weighing in in the morning rather than Friday morning. I don't want the said bird-fried pork to make the scales jump. I'm just hoping to maintain this week (though I have a feeling I'm going to see a slight increase - say it ain't sooooo).
** If you'd like to read more about my experience with NF, here's a link to my story: http://nnff.org/survivors/brandi_houser/brandi_houser.htm
For starters, I was only six days post-partum. I had a six-day-old baby who was totally and completely dependant on me. A baby that I was head over heels in love with, but still had no clue how to take care of. I would look at him and think how much I love him . . . and also think how in the heck did I become a mom? What was God thinking? Why did he give ME a kid?
Around 9:00 on the morning of October 16, 2006, my beloved Granny passed away. She had been on this earth 99 years. 99 years. We knew the end was coming. She had been sick all summer but was holding on to see the births of her two newest great-great grandchildren (my cousin's daughter in August; my Jaybird in October). She had a stroke the night after Jaybird was born and never recovered. We knew she was in a better place. In the minutes before she died, she told my aunt, "I can see Bee [her husband]" and then "Mama! I see my Mama!" We knew she was once again with people she loved, people she hadn't seen for many years. Her suffering was over. For that, we were glad. But it was so terribly hard to lose the heart and soul and very foundation of our family. It shook our worlds. Here it's been two years and I still find myself thinking, "I need to send that picture to Granny" or "Maybe I should call Granny and tell her what Jaybird did today."
Losing Granny was bad enough, but the day only got worse from there. Worse than I ever would have - or could have - imagined. My c-section incision was infected. I managed to be squeezed in for an appointment at my doctor's office only to be told he wasn't sure what was attacking my body. He sent me to the hospital for "24 hours of antibiotics." Shortly after we got to the hospital, my grandmother arrived and took my Jaybird. He couldn't stay with me.
I remember calling a friend and just sobbing. "They won't let me keep my baby. My grandma came and got Jaidan. I want my Jaidan."
It was a couple hours after that that my infection finally had a diagnosis: necrotizing fasciitis. It was something we'd never even heard of until that very moment and then had to stand there with a doctor telling me, "This is very serious. We have to operate and we have to operate now." Just HOW serious is it? "Surgery NOW or die."
There is nothing like being faced with a near death experience at the age of 26 to totally and completely put things into perspective for you. There are different things in my life that I would request a "do over" for in a heartbeat. And, believe me, there is no way I would want to go through the physical pain involved with NF ever, ever, ever again. There is no way I would want to go through the emotional pain involved with knowing you came very close to losing your life nor would I want to go through the raw pain of being separated from my tiny baby for 11 days. BUT, that experience changed me and in so many ways it made me who I am today.
Two years ago, I would have thought October 16th would have been a day to be met with anger and frustration. But now I can look back and see how totally and completely blessed I am. I was told I wouldn't have any more children . . . my KyKy man is living proof that 'they' don't always know what they're talking about. I was told I might not walk again . . . my left leg may not be as strong as my right leg, but dammit it gets my boys and I to the park every morning. I'm here and I'm alive and I'm breathing and I can soak up every single second of the lives of these precious, precious boys . . . I am blessed. Blessed beyond measure or comprehension.
That doesn't meet the day isn't met without emotion. October 16th will always be an extremely emotional day for me. It will be tough for me this year. Tough to keep from participating in one of my favorite pasttimes: emotional eating. I know that my mindset tomorrow will be, "I deserve this because of everything I overcame." "I deserve this because think of where I was two years ago."
But you know what I DO deserve? I deserve to take care of this body I've been given . . . even if it includes a hip bone to hip bone scar, lumpy "front butt" belly, and a leg that aches when it rains. I deserve to be able to get down on the floor and REALLY play with my boys. I deserve to be able to check myself out in the mirror and say, "Lookin' good, Mama." THAT is what I deserve and every single one of those things is so much better and more precious than a twinkie or a chocolate chip cookie.
Hubs and I have a big day planned tomorrow, partly to keep my mind off of the total emotional-ness of the day. If the weather cooperates, we'll be taking the kids to state fair. Emotional eating I have no plans to do, but I *do* plan on splitting some chicken fried bacon with the crew (COME ON - chicken fried bacon?? That's like all the best artery clogging goodness all rolled into one food. I must try it). Therefore no daily menu for tomorrow. We be wingin' it.
I'm also considering weighing in in the morning rather than Friday morning. I don't want the said bird-fried pork to make the scales jump. I'm just hoping to maintain this week (though I have a feeling I'm going to see a slight increase - say it ain't sooooo).
** If you'd like to read more about my experience with NF, here's a link to my story: http://nnff.org/survivors/brandi_houser/brandi_houser.htm
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
The Ultimate Frienemy
I'm a coke addict. That goes without saying. I haven't had more than a sip since Memorial Day weekend of this year, but honestly -- that stuff is just like any drug or alcoholic beverage: once an addict, always an addict. There are times when it takes everything in my power to keep from pulling into Sonic and ordering a Route 44 Cherry Coke. But I know that doing it just that once could lead to a huge back slide. So I may break out in a sweat when I see that red can, but I just know that I can't. I would rather NOT have a coke than have to deal with the 10-15 extra pounds that I know coke adds to my frame.
I know better than to fall into the diet soda trap, buuuuuut . . . there was absolutely no way I could give up caffeine altogether. Enter the ultimate frienemy: Diet Dr. Pepper. I can't do Diet Coke. It's basically fake coke and no kind of fake coke (Pepsi, cheap brands, whatev) works for me. Diet Coke is out. But Diet Dr. Pepper . . . how do I love thee, let me count the ways.
I don't keep it my house. Because I know if I do, I'll drink that rather than drinking the water that I NEED in order to lose weight. I know, I know, I KNOW that my water consumption has aided greatly in my weight loss. I make sure to drink at least 4 33-ounce bottles a day. During the super hot summer months, I was ocassionally drinking 7-8 of those big bottles in a day.
Weeeeeell, I bought a 2-liter of Diet DP for Jaybird's birthday party. And, of course, there is still about half of the bottle left. Ugh. I can't let it all go to waste, right? Riiiiiight? That DP has been staring at me, tempting me all week long. Alllllll weeeeeek looooooong. Today I rationalized that the soda would be okay if I were to add an extra bottle of water into the mix. So it's 8:00 and I'm working on bottle #5. I'll be up peeing all night long . . .
The Biggest Loser: Why is Heba being such a huge bitch? Sheesh. Dumb mistake, Heba, dumb mistake. I can't believe she messed with Amy and Phil. I LOVE Amy and Phil! And I thought I liked Heba, too, but damn . . . she's being supa beyotch tonight.
Daily Menu for Wednesday:
Breakfast
Oatmeal
2 slices toast
Total Points: 4
Lunch
Chicken Nachos
Fun Sized Raisinettes (I have a whole bag of them -- I'm doing good on one a day, right? Right).
Total Points: 7
Snack
Jello w/ cool whip
Total Points: 1
Dinner
Slow Cooker Chicken Taco Soup
Chips
Total points: 5.5
Snack
Hershey's Stick
Total Points: 1
Daily Points Total: 18.5
Monday, October 13, 2008
Feel the Burn
Ya think constantly repeating these same phrases over and over again burns calories?:
"Leave your sister alone."
"He's only two, Z."
"Stop it! Both of you! I said stop!"
"Get off of her!"
"Do NOT pull his hair!"
"Imma send you both to your rooms without dinner, do you understand me?"
Because, if so, then today alone I managed to burn off everything I've eaten for the past, oh, month. And I guess that helps a little bit with the fact that once I see those phrases in writing I'm now convinced I have TURNED INTO MY MOTHER! God help me.
I love my stepdaughter and I love spending time with her. But having her here is totally exhausting (and also gives me a window on what I have to 'look forward' to when KyKy is Jaybird's age. Joy). I never knew that a two year old and an eight year old would actually fight and argue. Sheesh!
In other news . . .
Celebrities should not be allowed to give birth. Wanna know why? 'Cause of THIS:
"Leave your sister alone."
"He's only two, Z."
"Stop it! Both of you! I said stop!"
"Get off of her!"
"Do NOT pull his hair!"
"Imma send you both to your rooms without dinner, do you understand me?"
Because, if so, then today alone I managed to burn off everything I've eaten for the past, oh, month. And I guess that helps a little bit with the fact that once I see those phrases in writing I'm now convinced I have TURNED INTO MY MOTHER! God help me.
I love my stepdaughter and I love spending time with her. But having her here is totally exhausting (and also gives me a window on what I have to 'look forward' to when KyKy is Jaybird's age. Joy). I never knew that a two year old and an eight year old would actually fight and argue. Sheesh!
In other news . . .
Celebrities should not be allowed to give birth. Wanna know why? 'Cause of THIS:
Just when I start feeling better and better about my own post-baby bod I have to see that heffer on the cover of everything with her "curves" and completely and totally banging bod. Even more disgusting? She gave birth two months after I did. With TWO babies. AND she also had a c-section.
I think I hate her. Can you hate someone and be willing to do them all at the same time?
And while I'm stuck on Perez, just another reason I hate Eva Longoria-I-Can't-Believe-You-Married-Her-Tony-Parker: http://perezhilton.com/2008-10-13-eva-langoria-isnt-pregnant-shes-just-fat-but-not-really-fat-because-shes-still-a-size-0 Apparently, a size zero is now fat. Hey Eva! Shove another doughtnut down your pie hole! Ugh.
Daily Menu for Tuesday:*
Breakfast:
Cinnamon Pancakes
Total Points: 4
Lunch:
Cup of veggie soup
Sandwhich
Fun-size Raisinettes
Total Points: 6
Snack:
Teddy Grams
Frozen Cool Whip
Total Points: 3
Dinner
Chili
Chips
Total Points: 5
Snack:
Rice Cake
Total Points: 1
Daily Total: 19
** Though I doubt I'll weigh in at -2 pounds this week given everything I indulged in over the weekend (not to mention all the exercising I did not do), I am so looking forward to not doing a daily menu anymore. I will probably still keep track of my calories over on Sparkpeople or The Daily Plate, but counting points will be a thing of the past. Woo Hoo!
Sunday, October 12, 2008
I'm Lovin' It
I'm lovin' it #1 - My stepdaugher tells me, "Wow, Miss Brandi! You've gotten skinny!"
Eeeee! She used the 's' word!
I'm lovin' it #2 - Stepdaughter talks to her mother on the phone and says, "Mama, Miss Brandi is skinny now. I think maybe she's skinnier than you."
I think I died and went to Heaven. LOL. For the record, I seriously, seriously doubt I'm thinner than her mother but that heffer doesn't like me so I LOVE for her to just think I'm thinner than her. Ha! <==== At my most mature :p
I'm lovin' it #3 - Old friend came to Jaybird's party Saturday and asked me, "So what do you weigh now? 120?"
I told him he's my new BFF.
This is the best I can do on a progress picture for this week. But - WOW - I actually have a thin face! I never have a thin face. I have that whole hereditary double chin so-not-cute thing going on. But, in this picture, I feel like you can really tell I've lost weight all over because my face looks thin. Yay!
Me and the Jaybird on his birthday:
Daily Menu for Monday (back to the eatin' good grind):
Breakfast:
2 biscuits
Egg Beaters
2 slices turkey bacon
Total Points: 5
Lunch
Cup of veggie soup
1 wedge Laughing Cow cheese
Pringles Stix
Fun Sized Raisinettes (damn these Halloween candy aisles!)
Total Points: 4.5
Snack
WW Icecream
Brownie
Total Points: 4
Dinner:
Chicken Parmesan
Baked Potato
Green Beans
Garlic Bread
Total Points: 7
Snack
Hershey's Stick
Total Points: 1
Daily Total: 21.5
Eeeee! She used the 's' word!
I'm lovin' it #2 - Stepdaughter talks to her mother on the phone and says, "Mama, Miss Brandi is skinny now. I think maybe she's skinnier than you."
I think I died and went to Heaven. LOL. For the record, I seriously, seriously doubt I'm thinner than her mother but that heffer doesn't like me so I LOVE for her to just think I'm thinner than her. Ha! <==== At my most mature :p
I'm lovin' it #3 - Old friend came to Jaybird's party Saturday and asked me, "So what do you weigh now? 120?"
I told him he's my new BFF.
This is the best I can do on a progress picture for this week. But - WOW - I actually have a thin face! I never have a thin face. I have that whole hereditary double chin so-not-cute thing going on. But, in this picture, I feel like you can really tell I've lost weight all over because my face looks thin. Yay!
Me and the Jaybird on his birthday:
Daily Menu for Monday (back to the eatin' good grind):
Breakfast:
2 biscuits
Egg Beaters
2 slices turkey bacon
Total Points: 5
Lunch
Cup of veggie soup
1 wedge Laughing Cow cheese
Pringles Stix
Fun Sized Raisinettes (damn these Halloween candy aisles!)
Total Points: 4.5
Snack
WW Icecream
Brownie
Total Points: 4
Dinner:
Chicken Parmesan
Baked Potato
Green Beans
Garlic Bread
Total Points: 7
Snack
Hershey's Stick
Total Points: 1
Daily Total: 21.5
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