Procrastinator

Have I already blogged about this?  Well if I have, sorry, you will hear it again!

Why am I such a procrastinator?  I literally have to wait until all of my family is in bed, there is absolutely nothing on TV and, facebook, twitter, and email have all been checked and no one is posting anything or sending me anything.

I am spending my nights doing programs, t-shirts, to do lists, getting judges and vendors squared away, etc. for this stupid competition on Saturday.  (I say stupid because it is a whole lotta work, and its just little old me doing it all.)  Its not like I didn't start these projects early enough, its that I don't work on them early enough at night, so I can go to bed at a decent hour, and get a good night's sleep.

Man am I tired!  My body is mad at me and rebelling against all of the late nights.  I have a headache, sinus ache, lower back pains, and have recently thought picking up a productive cough would be totally awesome. HA!

I just keep thinking, if I can make it until Saturday night, all will be well- except- scurch- there are two parties and I have to prepare a lesson for Sunday School the next day.  And since I am a procrastinator, I will do it on Saturday night, after everyone goes to bed, or Sunday morning while I am trying to get my kids dressed and ready for church! UGH!

So procrastination I go, until I can figure how to start projects earlier in my day!

I'm at it again.

SUGAR!  I can't seem to get enough of it these days.  Remember my post from a couple months back where I was responsible for eating an entire package of Oreo's?  Well, I'm craving those stupid Oreo's again.  And candy bars.  And tootsie pops.  And soda.  Pretty much anything super sweet, with no nutritional value, I want it.  For a while there, I was great.  I wouldn't say my issue with sugar ever went away, but it definitely wasn't out of control.  Leading up to Ragnar, when I was in the thick of my training, and then, leading up to my half marathon, when I was putting up the big miles, my need for sucre was at bay.  It was a normal, everyone loves sugar, but not going to indulge everyday type of thing.  But now, man oh man, I am back at it again.  I can attribute it to a couple of things.
1- I'm not training anymore.
2- Its cold outside, and I love me some hot chocolate.
3- I'm away from home and at practice a lot more now than before, so its easy to grab something from the vending machine.
4- I am staying up very late at night to get competition stuff done, and the only good snacks in my house are ice cream and candy.
5- I've fallen into the "its the holidays, I'll be better in the New Year" trap.  This trap is bad- and it sucks people right in!

So while I wait for someone, anyone, to show up to my zumba classes on friday mornings and monday nights, I will consume sugar.  While I am at practice for a double rehearsal, I will consume sugar.  While my littlest has learned how to say "I want kin-y, I want duh- dun (I want candy, I want dumdum) I will give into him, because I want some as well, and I will consume sugar.

OH MY GOSH I LOVE SUGAR!

The 1/2...

Think about it- one half.  One half of 2 is only 1.  One half of my day dealing with whiny kids is better than the entire day. Sharing one half of a pizza pie with the hubby is better than eating the whole thing myself.  But lets think about one half in miles.  Half of a 10 K is a 5 K, which is only 3.1 miles.  Half of a 20 K is a 10 K, which is 6.2 miles- Half of a Marathon is 13.1 miles. So yeah, that's what I did last Saturday morning, ran a half marathon. And what was it that you did? If the answer is stayed in your jammies, had eggs and sausage and sipped on some hot cocoa while watching a little TV, I envy you.  If you envy what I did- let me explain something to you- it flippin hurt!

On Friday afternoon, 2 hours after I decided I was going to leave for Richmond, I finally left.  Much to my surprise- as if I haven't lived in the DC area my whole life- there was traffic.  So after calling everyone I haven't talked to in several months, checking facebook while stopped, and eating all of the candy I brought to last me the whole ride, traffic subsided and I finally make it down to the expo center and the pre race packet pick up.  I head over to my girlfriends house, who is putting me up for the night, and plop my happy butt right down on the couch.  Her dear hubby picked up some alfredo for me, and I scarfed most of it down- in record timing might I add.  I knew I needed my carb overload for the morning.

Speaking of morning, it came VERY quickly.  I didn't sleep very well the prior night because the vent was wide open and making a heinous noise- RIGHT ABOVE MY HEAD! I finally got out of bed, got dressed, and headed to Wawa for some water and some nutrition. Then I drove a couple of miles to downtown Richmond, but silly me, missed my exit and had to come in the back way. Scary!

I park, get everything I need, and say- where the heck do I go.  I had to walk an additional 4 blocks- there was no time for warming up, no time to go potty, I barely had enough time to check my bags.  I am glad I did find the bag check place, because my girlfriend was checking her bag at the same time.  Whew- I at least had someone to start the run with!

I'm tired, cold, and excited all at the same time.  I really don't LIKE running, but I do like racing.  I do like kind of intense situations where there are winners, awards, stats kept, etc. It's the thrill of competition.  I know I don't have a snowballs chance in hell to win any running event, nor is that even my goal, but I get excited for the people who pour their heart and soul into this sport and accomplish something they really want. (Like my friend who won a first place medal today in the 5 k we ran! In came in 4th place in my division- out of 4! HA!)

My girlfriend and I start out at a slower, but pretty moderate pace.  We easily pass the 1-2-3 miles, I start to get warm and the first thing I ditch are my gloves.  Every other mile there was water and powerade.  We quickly walked while we drank, but picked our pace back up as soon as we contributed to the litter pile of plastic cups. (I hope they were recycled and not just thrown away.)

Mile 4 I bust out the sweedish fish for that extra energy boost, and start to feel my arches. Mile 5 we go up a nice sized hill and enter a park.  I am wanting to stop and walk at this point, but our conversation about husbands, kids, being pregnant and giving birth kept me going.  We got to the 10 k point and I couldn't keep up any longer, the pain in my arches was so bad, I had to slow down.

My girlfriend was only slightly ahead of me, so I sprinted up to her and that was it.  Along with the arch pain,   there was an excruciating pain in 4th toe (next to the pinky) of my left foot.  I can continue to run through the arch pain, this pain, I can not.  I was barely at mile 7, and I had to walk for some time- slapping my heel down first and rolling to the balls of my feet.  After a swig of Coke and a gel pack, I start to hobble run again.  At this point my toe hurt so bad, I literally curled my toes under and ran/ walked for a couple more miles like this.

At mile 9, I have to take off my over pants as the sun was beating down on me and I was HOT!  I dropped my drawers for everyone to see! ha! I had spandex on underneath, and I tied my pants around my waist.  I looked pretty dumb, but I was no longer hot, and it felt really good to stop and stretch for a quick minute.  However, doing this KILLED my time, and I couldn't recover.

At mile 10, I feel the intense pain in my feet, and now my hips have joined in.  Although I was in pain- I only had 3 miles left. The lady next to me who was running her 10th marathon said- hey, you can do ANYTHING for 35 minutes, right?  She was right! The spectators had picked up the cheering, and the signs were really inspiring.  I actually started crying at this point.  There are a lot of people who can say they have finished a half marathon, but more that can not say that.  I already have a pain prone body, my feet and hips were aching, but I had come so far, I was just going to keep on truckin'.

I ran a little more, walked through water stations a little longer, hobbled when I needed, picked up my pace when I could. Mile 11 was really hard for me because I had 2 more miles to and I couldn't see the end in sight.  Mile 12 was when I decided I'm going all out.  I have to run through this pain.  Instead of shuffling, I was actually jogging again.  I turned the corner and people were calling my name, encouraging me, and most of all, I could see the finish line.  I got half way down the hill and thought- Damnit- I'm going for it.  I sprinted as fast as I could straight through the finish.  It was a surreal feeling.  My legs didn't feel attached to my body, so there had to be something else that helped me sprint down that hill.  That wasn't me!

So, I did it.  My time wasn't great, a few minutes over 2 and a half hours, but I'm OK with that, especially since I was injured! Remember, I was someone who couldn't run 15 minutes without stopping, to someone who finished a 1/2 marathon about 5 months later- congrats me.  And congrats to all of my other running friends who finished that race.  Amazing.

12

12 miles.  My training schedule says 12 miles.  Now bloggyworld, I realize that the half marathon I signed up for, which is NEXT WEEKEND, is 13.1 miles.  That doesn't frighten me.  A training run of 12 miles frightens me.  At the half, I am hoping some of my adrenaline will get me through it. For the training, I literally have no time, besides late at night, to run 12 miles, and I ain't doing that!

This running thing is only one of my stressors right now.  And if you can see my face, the big red dots will clue you in as to how stressed I am!

Other stressors:
- A dance team who is pretty talented, but pretty mean, and talk trash about each other, and me.  I committed to coaching them for 2 years, and I'm only half way through my first year..... this will be a LONG two years.
- A son who can't stop coughing when he is playing outside, and has had several nose bleeds to boot.
- Me personally earning enough money to receive the child care tax credit.  Umm, I am a stay at home mom, and a VERY part-time substitute teacher.
- My dealing with fibromyalgia.  I won't get on meds for it because, quite frankly, I'm stubborn.  But I sure am in a lot of pain.
- The fact that my friends want me to read the Twilight Series.  Really girls, I would rather eat dirt than sit down to read a novel right now, let alone a series of novels.
- The pep rally, game, and competition all falling this weekend, which happens to be the same weekend my husband is in Richmond and my son has 2 soccer games.  UGH UGH UGH
- Did I already mention a 12 mile run?  Oh yeah, let me say it again.... 12 FLIPPING MILES!

- So to make myself feel better, I must raid my son's candy stash from Halloween the other night.

Til next time :)

Race, Run, and other Fun

Hey Bloggy World.  I have been so busy lately, thinking about all the things I need to do, that I didn't possibly have time to write this blog until now, midnight more than two weeks after my race! HA!

I am sure by now you have heard little snippets of all the crazy events that happened to us during our 2 day event! Readers Digest Version- go!

1. Rolled down window, window wouldn't roll back up, duct taped it.  NO JOKE.  We duct taped that mamma jamma and went on our merry way!

2. Went past our exit and arrived at the hotel much later than anticipated.  The five star hotel called Relax Inn- with the Knights Club, Bar and Grille right next door.  I slept for a grand total of 45 minutes that night. UGH!

3. Got to the starting line, late (lost again...) Our injured runner was first up, and sprinted to the finish. AWESOME

4. First exchange went off without a hitch.

5.  Runner 3 waited her turn, said to us "you better be there waiting for me when I finish"

6.  We weren't there.  Damn directions had the ending point at the beginning of the directions, and we thought it was the starting point.  Waited forty five minutes for my turn, and then got a phone call saying we were at the wrong exchange.

7. Got to the right place, I jumped out full speed ahead, and went for it.  Girl beside of me passed me, then I passed her.  We said nothing to each other except, whew, glad that hill was over- then we saw the mountain. No JOKE- I could not see anything in front of me, except for dirt and hill.  Not a single female ran that whole thing.  I think I took 20 steps and decided I would join the other ladies.  I had to lean forward to keep from rolling down the hill.  I actually yelled "When is this ever going to end."  I got a thumbs up from the cute blond in a tennis skirt who was strugglin' just like me.

8.  Sprinted to the finish to find out we had a flat tire.  Kind runner stayed with us and helped put on our spare.

9. Meet Van 2 at the major exchange and watch three vans get stuck in mud, and wait for our runner in the downpour.

10.  Try to go to the next exchange, but had to reduce speed to 35 because our van was going wobbledy wobbledy woo!  Find a gas station with a shop, and dude wouldn't take our money.... Went a couple of miles down the road to some seriously nice people.  They "fixed" our spare- tightened it up.  We made it all the way to mcdonalds- which was literally over the small hill and the next turn- maybe 100 feet away- and the van was going WOBBLEDY WOBBLEDY WOBBLE.  Drove right back down and oh- tire is dry rotted. UGH!  Patched our hole, put the other tire back on, and didn't even charge us.  My sissy in law was THROWING money at them, and they wouldn't take it. They ended up paying us- we were fortunate enough to see their mechanic's crack.

11. Went to the school to sleep- HA- we waited, and waited, and waited, for the other team to arrive.  Saw poop on the floor in the stall.  Vomited a little in my mouth!

12. FOG FOG FOG- Couldn't see in front of my face it was so foggy. My 2nd run- slow and steady pace-middle of the night- twisted my ankle, stepped in water, scared to death because hardly anyone else was around and corn fields were right next to me. (Children of the corn, anyone)  Oh, and I was running ON the road- no shoulder, definitely no sidewalk.

13.More people ran.  We were tired, hungry, and cranky, and all just wanted some sleep.

14.  We got to the next major exchange, four of us slept in the van, three of us outside.  I got two hours of sleep on and off there.  The porta-potties were so far away, and it was so cold, I contemplated just peeing my pants and cleaning it up in the morning.  But Jules was sharing a seat bench with me, so that wouldn't work.

15.  Daylight came and we were all antsy to get the hell outta dodge, and get our last run over with.

16.  So we waited for van 2.  And we waited.  And we waited some more.  There were like 5 teams left, we finally see our team, and off we go!

17.  I think I cried when I saw everyone, including the very injured Jules run to the finish line. 

18.  We drive to the next exchange, and get a little lost.  Wait for our super fast, running buddy to get there.  And wait, and wait, and wait.  9 miles and another 45 minutes later, we finally see her. (she should have only ran 5 or so).  

19. And I cried a little again, when I saw Brittany with her hubby and two kids running with her.

20.  I wait a couple of minutes for my turn and sprint out of there.  My goal was to sprint til I couldn't anymore.  My plan was thwarted by a city, intersections, and traffic lights.  My last run was only 3.7 miles, but the signs were few and far in between, and there was literally not another Ragnar runner in my view in front or behind me.  We were one of the last groups because of all the setbacks.  My pace was great on this run- if you take out the three minutes where I had to wait, and wait, and wait for lights.  I may or may not have broken the law a bit and crossed streets before it was my turn.  Oopsie.  Again, may or may not.

20. Our last runner came in, but van 2 wasn't there because they had to start running before our runner finished her run, to keep things moving along.  But it didn't matter, because Mary's little girls and hubby were all at our finish line.  I really did shed some tears at this one.  FINALLY, it was over, for us at least.

21.  We eat pizza (first MEAL we had all day,) do a little shopping, catch up with the rest of the team, put our boa's on, and wait for runner 12 to come running in.  I can't tell you how giddy I got when I heard 143 coming in- there we see Tammy and her husband Ed running towards us.  The gals all pass through the finish line.  We did it.  We made it.  I will never do that again.  Ever.

22.  So I signed up for a half marathon in November.

HAHAHAHA!  So, do I still hate running?  No!  Do I LIKE running?  NO, not at all.  Running is still very hard for me.  I actually ran 4 miles today, and had a terrible pace.  But the fact that I might be able to run/walk for 13 miles, is quite intriguing to me.  I just want to see what excuses I will try to come up with while trying to talk myself out of finishing the race.

King and Queen

Trying to figure out what this blog post is about?  I'll give you a hint, sike, I will just tell you.

BURGER KING and DAIRY QUEEN

Yes, in the same day!

I had to sub a half day today, and I was hungry.  In fact, I have been hungry since I ran that 10 K on Saturday morning.  Not my normal, I want junk food, hungry.  I mean, I am craving a fatty steak, burger, or an extra meaty and extra cheesy burrito, hungry. (And before you ask, NO, I am NOT prego!) And I am not counting calories, either, I am just hungry.

Saturday afternoon, and Sunday morning pass me by and although I ate every meal, plus snacks, my insatiable hunger had not subsided.  Left overs Sunday night, eggs Monday morning, sandwich and pizza Monday afternoon and evening, but I was still craving something.

I walked into my principal's office, just chatting it up with her and another friend, and I decided I wanted a greasy, full of fat and probably toxins, burger.  Prior to going home, I went to Burger King and ordered a California Whopper Jr.  I think that just might have become my new favorite burger. The guac and bacon and cheese are delightful!  Yummmmmmmmmm

My mom babysat today, so she made dinner, that I didn't particularly care for, so I didn't eat seconds. I did, however, remember my baby daddy (my husband for you lay folk), try to threaten my son by not allowing him the ice cream he was promised if he didn't behave. Oh yeah!  The hubby went off to soccer practice, and I scooped up (pun intended) the kids and took them to Dairy Queen.

It was a great idea, at the time, until moments after consuming a large small kiddie cone, he was face to face with kids on the playground. We only got about 30 minutes of playtime in before it was time to go home because Big Boy was out of control. So we left, came home, and the tenants unleashed their kids to wreak havoc on my house.  I said 30 minutes. It was only 20 before they had to go downstairs because someone was screaming bloody murder due to an ankle and eye injury.  I felt bad for the kid, (I actually like this particular one) but I can't say I was upset that playtime was over.

After having BK and DQ in the same day, I think I will eat healthy tomorrow.  HAHHAHAHAHA!

I can't stand it anymore

I am in a bad mood, so I apologize in advance.... so away we go.

I woke up after only having 6 1/2 hours of sleep last night, ready for ANOTHER 10 K.  My youngest was awake before I left, and my significant other wasn't trying to wake up.  I waited til I HAD to leave, dropped my son off on the bed next to his daddy, and ran away before he could chase after me while having a tantrum.

I showed up to the "race" with two thoughts- 1- I wanted to finish without walking, and 2- beat my time from the last time I did it. Number 1- fail. I had to walk twice, for a very brief moment of time, but 2- success! I shaved two minutes off of my time!

I came home to my little one yelling "mamma," with a big snaggle tooth smile, and my big guy was glued to an angry birds game with his dad. After eating lunch, yes, at 10:35 am, and putting my little one to bed, I finally showered. Thank goodness, my smell was even offending me.

A couple hours, and a few knocks on the door later, I decide to rearrange the toy room, for the 4th time in two years.  I guess I can't leave well enough alone! In the process of doing so, the shoddy bookshelf falls apart. Now, a simple rearranging of furniture has become a big undertaking involving heavy books, broken cases, and insufficient storage space for toys.  Grrr...

The boys had been cooped up in the house all day by this point, so I took them outside to play.  Five minutes later, running full speed, comes the son of the tenant's son's girlfriend.  You got that? (We will call him the "friend" for now.) There is no parental/guardian/caretaker unit of his to be found.  Umm... I guess I'm watching over him.  There is one problem.  THIS BOY DOESN'T LISTEN. It's bad enough that I have to constantly keep my attention in two places at one time- making sure one kid doesn't fall off of the big wheel, and the other doesn't ride his bike in the street.  Now on top of it, I have to watch a child who ignores or doesn't understand rules and boundaries.

Here is an example- I just found out that the new anti-social neighbors are anti-social for a good reason!  They have a set of twins who will be two next month, and one doesn't walk or talk, and a small baby- only five months old. (Now I feel kinda bad for being upset that they didn't answer their door when we came over, twice.) The handicapped little boy was sitting on a toy rocket- made for kids under 30 pounds.  The "friend" (who is 5 1/2) sat on the rocket, twice, after my telling him no, and pressed the keys every chance he got.  He almost hit the handicapped square in the head with the big wheel (which is also made for someone under 30 pounds), and DID run over his foot.  I've had enough, but I keep my composure and say its time to go in.  My big boy asks if the "friend" can play inside, and I say sure. UGH!

So now we are back inside, but there are books in the living room and the toy room.  Now, I am not saying my son is innocent, but when he plays with the "friend," he acts, and talks, like the "friend," who is speech delayed, but his mom has never had him tested. He randomly asks for a popsicle, and juice, and a treat.  I politely tell him to go ask his mom, or mom's boyfriend, or mom's boyfriend's mom for a snack and drink.  I always give big boy's friends snacks if they are over here, but this kid comes up three times a week and asks for things.

Now comes the screaming.  Remember, I am already in a bad mood and hungry, nothing I eat is satisfying my hunger, and my body hurts.  So they, yes my son and his "friend" start screaming- every time they run past each other, every time they jump from couch to coffee table, every time they walk on lounge chairs and couch arms. And every time, I politely say "no screaming," or "please don't scream." Then, they scream some more. And the "friend" screeches as he goes up the stairs- which he has been told 115 times not to go up the stairs, and even got sent downstairs a couple nights ago because he couldn't follow that simple rule.

So as I am writing this, in all this commotion, and my little guy throwing a tantrum because I took away my cell phone from him, my big boy comes in crying saying "he punched me right in my eye." I asked him if he did it, he said sorry, and I discussed it with him in front of the stairs so the tenants could hear, then I told him it was time for Collin to eat, and he had to go downstairs.  My big boy starts crying and the "friend" starts crying.  He reluctantly goes downstairs and I actually hear his mom.  In two hours he has been in my care, and that's the first I have heard from her. Might that be a reason he acts the way he does?

I'm still hungry, my body still hurts, and I still want ice cream.  Dairy Queen, anyone?!

It's been a long time

It's been a long time
Glad to see your face
I knew we'd meet again
Another time, another place!

OK- well it hasn't been that long, but I feel like every time I sit down to blog, I have other things that need to get done.  The other things are usually resting, watching TV, or facebooking.  My husband says I'm addicted to facebook, and although its not a full blown addiction, I would agree that I have a slight problem.  I get updates on my phone, and it's so easy to just hit reply, and keep the conversation going!

Also on my phone, I have the Endomondo fitness tracker.  It uses GPS to get your location, to calculate your distance, duration, pace, and approximate calories burned.  I love it, because I can listen to music, and it chimes in and stops Katy Perry right in her tracks to tell me, in an English, female, robotic voice, "2 miles in 20 minutes 12 seconds, lap time 10 minutes 6 seconds" and then Katy continues, or Kesha, or GaGa, or Shania, or Beastie Boys, or even Journey (yeah, I like a lot of genre's of music.)

I noticed several weeks ago, after a long run, on a really hot day, that there was something really wrong with my phone.  After my run was over, I took the headphones out, and the icon started flashing at me.  My phone was so confused! I couldn't figure out what was wrong til I took off the back cover and there was- we'll call it moisture- all over the battery. I took it apart, wiped everything dry, pieced it all back together, and it started to work again. From then on, I started to put a washcloth, or paper towel, between my arm and the armband, as to catch any extra moisture, before my phone got wet.  (OK- We all know that I am a sweat-er, and that I sweat buckets while running, so this moisture I speak of, is a down right downpour of sweat!  It's really nasty, actually!)

Today, I left my house around 7:25, that's AM bloggy world, to meet some friends before heading up to Burke Lake Park to run the trail.  I remembered my clif bar, water, extra t-shirt, purse, phone, headphones, arm band, and I even set out breakfast for my kids so the babysitters didn't have to do it!  What I didn't remember, was a wash cloth or paper towel.  Once I remembered, it really wasn't that big of a deal because we were running in the shade, and it was a cooler morning than usual.

Although I wasn't going too terribly fast, it was a great run and I didn't feel like stopping, until we got lost and had no idea how to get back to our cars, and had to change directions twice.  I started walking about a 1/4 mile before we found our car and our friends, and at that time I took my armband off. The phone came out of the case, and I unplugged the headphones, and lo and behold, the icon was flashing at me again.  I disassembled it, wiped it all off, put it back together, turned it back on, and immediately checked facebook.  I didn't want to miss anything in the hour I was running and stretching- that would be tragic, you know! I tried to respond to a message, and every time I pressed the n, an h would go in its place, and every 3rd letter would show up.  This is creating big problems for my internet social life.

I took everything apart- AGAIN- and put it back together- AGAIN, and it still didn't work.  So now, my phone is sitting in a container of rice.  Hopefully this time it will work, otherwise I will have to find a game other than bubble buster to play in my spare time. Maybe I'll go clean my house? Nah, let's see what's on TV!

Knees

As I am sitting on my couch that is already 8 years old and still VERY comfortable, in my jammie pants (don't judge, my jeans were so tight I couldn't sit down after my El Charro lunch), sitting Indian style, I can only think 1 thing- KNEES- OUCH!

While I am in the treacherous act of running, my knees don't actually HURT.  They crack and pop, but don't hurt.  They don't even hurt after I am done running.  They don't hurt when I am in bed at night.  They just hurt when I am...... walking, standing,bending, kneeling, crouching, stooping, jumping, etc. My knees just throb for most of the day, except when I am actually running. UGH!

I went to Zumba last night for the first time in forever! I was, of course, 20 minutes late, so I couldn't even push my way to the front.  As I am wayyyyy in the back, behind the man that was dripping sweat on the floor, and next to the young woman who was going the opposite way from everyone else, I see a brand new instructor get her music ready.  My knees were a little sore at this point, but I was OK to keep going.  During Zumba Kym's second song, when she decided we would samba at warp speed, my knees start aching, and by the end of the song, they were throbbing. I literally had to stop, and rub my knee caps- as if that was going to help!

I woke up this morning and went for a run in the beautiful weather we have had recently, and felt great.  Until I went up the hill of death in my neighborhood, at a pace that even my handicapped mom who uses a cane could walk, at which point my knees felt like they were going to pop out of place. I only finished 2 1/2 miles out of the 3 1/2 or 4 I had set out to do!  So much for my knees not hurting WHILE I run.  :(

 I really hope this is a temporary issue, and I haven't done any long term damage, because I am thinking about doing a half marathon in a couple of months.  OK- thinking about it is over! As my brother says- you only run that far and fast if you are getting chased. Now I shall rub my knee caps, in hopes that it will bring me good luck. Until I blog again, my bloggy world friends!

How sad for you

I just realized you haven't had the pleasure to hear about my antics for almost two weeks. How sad for you.
No, for real.  I feel like so much has happened, but none are The Real Me blogworthy. So I will tell you what would happen in my perfect world, as if I was still living my normal life.

In my perfect world:

At dance camp, we received the Camp Champs trophy- opposed to the "Most Improved" award, which is given to teams who walk away with no other awards.
The girls who tried out for staff received an application- they were the only two who tried out who did not, and they are VERY decent dancers.
When I wake up in the morning, my hair already looks nice, and I remember to brush it everyday.
When my son wakes up in the morning, he says "Mom, I am awake," instead of crying for no reason.
My husband did a great job at his first adult league soccer game of the season, and did not injure himself.  In truth, he can't move his right shoulder and is in a ton of pain because he fell on that side on a slab of concrete.
Li'l Guy missing his two front teeth don't bother me at all :(
The 5 boys in my house right now are playing quietly with one another- HAHAHA!
My house stayed clean for more than two days after it being spotless.
My nephew's team won the final game before the World series 3-2, instead of losing 2-3.
I ran 6.45 miles and didn't think I was going to puke.
I ran 5.05 miles and didn't think I was going to puke.
I ran 5.01 miles and didn't think I was going to puke.
I get didn't come in dead last when I ran with my friends the other day.  (Oh wait, I didn't come in last- the girl who took five weeks off due to a pretty serious injury and has only been running again for a week came in one minute behind me. Hey, I'll take it!)
I don't change my allotted calories on my calorie tracker everyday to allow for my fast food lunches and out to eat dinners! (No joke- I will manually change the amount of calories I can have so I don't see that I have gone over for the day. No wonder I'm still gaining weight!)
And finally, I enjoy getting dressed in the morning because I love my clothes that much!!!!!!!!!!!! Again- HA!

8K

An 8 K is 4.97 miles. Since that is hard to map out, everyone just rounds it up to 5.  5 miles of running. For a novice runner, like me, if I can even call myself that anymore, 5 miles is no joke. For an avid runner, 5 miles is a warm-up. I have gone 5.05 miles before, and that is the absolute farthest I have ever gone. I was mentally preparing myself for the 8 K we were supposed to run/race Saturday morning.

I was actually a minute or two early for the race on Saturday morning. I was the second person there, right after my good friend who self-proclaims herself a wackadoo! Even the team captain, at whose house we were meeting, opened the door to see two people at her doorstep.  I was a little nervous, but it was no big deal.

Once everyone arrived, our fearless leader gave us maps so we could study them and know where to go. We were running on the main road, down to the "beach", and back through the neighborhood. I calculated a run similar to this two days prior, and came up with a mileage closer to 6.2 miles.  Since we weren't going back on the main road, but through the side street, what she mapped out must be a shorter distance.  We were all there, we knew where to go, our mp3's were blaring and our pedometer's/gps trackers were turned on.  On your mark, get set, go!!!!!

I stayed with the group for a total of 30 seconds.  First hill, I slowed down, and everyone else kept going!  I was a step or two behind, and that's where I'm used to and comfortable being, so I made no effort to try and push harder.  My goal was to walk the bare minimum, and have an 11 minute average pace.

I was actually enjoying myself as I was singing every third word out loud to my song. I'm the annoying one in the back that woo's and hoo's.  Contrary to popular belief, this is so I can catch my breath, not so I can go back to my cheerleading days by being obnoxious and peppy! I was a really good actress back in my cheer days, because peppy people kinda irk me!

 I was happy as a clam with my music blaring into my ear drums, and then I realized there was no one around me.  I was so far behind that I couldn't even see anyone anymore.  Finally, I was at the top of the hill, and a few people were at the bottom of the hill, so I could see that I was going the right way!  Before I even hit 3 miles, I had to walk to catch my breath!  Usually my tracker chimes in at each mile to tell me my stats, but she must have been on vacation, or I was breathing too heavy to hear her!  I was breathing more slowly now and I started to run again.

I ran past a man who was watering his lawn, and I sure did ask him permission to run through his sprinklers.  I looked kinda dumb, but it felt great.  Had he not been there, I would have lapped the water up like a dog!  I get to the "beach" (its more like a part of a lake with sand) and feel like I had been defeated.  There is no way we only have 2 miles back to her house.  My tracker already said over 3.

3 or 2, whatever, I still had to keep running.  So I ran flats, and walked hills.  I was just plain tired!  I pushed my tired self through the neighborhood and onto the main road.  I whip out my phone and look at the tracking device- 4.15 miles.  OK- now I know, and I am getting mad!  Her house is definitely more than a 8/10ths of a mile away. By this time, I am at a slow crawl when I am actually running because the sun was shining and the humidity you could cut with a knife.

Walk-run-walk-run.  OK- I know her house is right around the bend, and over this HUGE hill!  I look at my tracker again, and I am at 5 1/2 miles.  Some 8 K huh?  I get to her house, which I think is the finish line, but OH NO!!!, you have to go to the stop sign and back.  For real!  I get back, get my officially time, stop my tracker and see that it says 6.19 miles.  DID I JUST RUN A 10 K?  And my pace- ha- 11:04.  I finished up 15 minutes after the first runner, and 7 minutes after the one just before me.  I was DEAD last- by a lot!

Even if I was dead last, I felt pretty accomplished that I could even finish a 10 K and I was able to walk the next day.  I guess I am making some progress after all!

Calorie Tracker

It's no secret that I eat what I want, and usually a lot of it.  And then I whine to you guys that I have gained weight.  I decided that I am going to figure out how much I am actually consuming during the course of a day,  compared to how many calories I should be eating.  

To the Marketplace for my phone I go, and search "calorie tracker." The first app that pops up is Myfitnesspal. I read the description, and it seemed to have just what I was looking for. I download it and start right away.  The first thing I needed to do was enter in my personal information- age, gender, weight, goal weight, and activity level. After all of that good stuff, I was ready to use it.  I go back to the main page and it tells me I can eat 1420 calories, if I do no exercise at all.  I think to myself "That's not an obscenely low number, so I think I can do this for a while."  Here are the true results:

Day 1- Negative 199 calories

Day 2- Negative 208 calories,(and this day I was allowed to actually eat 1920 calories because of the I burned that many calories exercising)

Day 3- Negative 63 calories, (allowed 479 extra)

Day 4- Negative 13 calories (allowed 109 extra)

Day 5- Negative 60 calories

Day 6- Positive 111 calories (allowed 259 extra)

Day 7- Negative 354 calories

Do you see a trend here?  I go over my calories almost every day!  And the one day I had a surplus, I took an hour and a half nap in the middle of the day.  I was quite tired. 

I think I will continue to track my calories.  It is helping me to make better choices.  For example, when I would go to target every other day during the spring, I would pick up a candy bar.  I would eat half, and share the other part with my little guys.  Now, I still pick up the candy bar, but I will only eat a 1/3 instead of 1/2! Mmmm..... Chocolate! :)

I'm really hungry right now. I think I will go and raid my kitchen for the remaining 33 calories! :)

Smile

When I say "smile" to my little guy, he flashes his pearly whites, and says "cheese." Well, whats left of them anyways. My boys are boys.  There is no doubt about that, private parts not taken into consideration. They just act like boys! I thought my oldest was going to drive my batty during his early toddler years.  He was usually caught climbing chairs and couches, jumping off plastic bins (no lie, I have this on video), climbing out of his crib, etc. We have calmed down a bit, but now I have ANOTHER CRAZY TODDLER.

Here is how the majority of my day goes with him: I put him in his high chair, he flips his body, wiggles out, and stands up.  I take his tray off, pull his little legs down, and he does it again.  And again, until finally I say "all done" and let him out.  Then I settle down to watch a show, or check email, and I ask the older one- Where's your baby brother?  "Upstairs, he almost always replies."  So I go upstairs to retrieve him, he fusses at me, throws whatever is in his hand down in anger, and I take him back downstairs.  I let him play for a little bit, and then I hear another whine/mini tantrum, and when I turn around, he is in the middle of the table, wondering how he is going to get down.  And that happens pretty much all day long, day after day.

Monday was no different.  I was checking my phone, and I hear the little guy fuss a bit. I kind of ignore him because he fusses all the time.  A good while later, I hear another little fuss.  About a second or two later, I hear a loud scream, I turn around, and as I do, I hear the chair shaking and then BOOM.  Followed by a scream.  It sounded as if someone was being attacked by a dog, or like they had just knocked their tooth out. It happened that fast people.  I took a flying two foot leap over to my son's rescue, and frantically try to get his knee out of the chair.  He starts screaming louder because I can't get his leg from the bars in the chair. I finally get him unstuck and see the massive amount of blood coming from his mouth.

Over to the sink we go, I am more than panicked, and I don't really know what to do, except get wet paper towels and water for his mouth, and try to soothe him.  Before I rinse his mouth out, I see a chalky color thing going sideways in his mouth.  OH MY GOSH HE LOST A TOOTH.  I take the tooth out, wash it off, and continue to rinse his mouth out. I did not really understand the severity of what had just happened until much later.

I called the pediatrician and they told me to go to the ER in another county, because they have a pediatric ER, and might have a pediatric dentist on call. So that's what I did. His mouth is still bleeding, mixed in with snot and slobber, and he looked like something straight out of a vampire movie. Whenever that happens, they want to make sure there is no brain damage, so he gets checked out, and then they tell me he will be toothless until his adult teeth come, at which time he will go through the teething process all over again.

Wait, what?  You can't do ANYTHING?  I have the tooth right here, it is still in tact.  Look, its even clean.  I knew there was nothing they could do, but really hoping I was wrong.  So the doctor's boss came into our "room" (a curtain and a gurney), wiggle his front tooth, and told me to go to a pediatric dentist tomorrow.  No crap, that's why I am here!!!!

First thing in the morning, I make an appointment for the dentist, and they get us in pretty quickly. Us isn't really the right word, because they took my little guy away from me for x-rays, and the exam.  They give me my darling baby back, after I hear him SCREAM the whole time.  Dr's. words-"I'm concerned.  That other tooth is extremely loose.  Come back in two days, and lets see if it gets any better."  Maybe if I give him enough milk, and pray hard enough, he will get to keep his front tooth. Kids are mean, and lets face it, even adults are too.  He already has a chronic hematoma on his face, now this?

I tried to keep everything out of his mouth, even his thumb.  Do you know how hard it is to tell a 15 month old thumb sucker that he can't suck his thumb.  HA!  We went about our business the next day, and he was acting like nothing had happened.  Resilience I tell ya! I would periodically look in his mouth and get the quivers because of how nasty his gums looked, and how black the other tooth looked.

Woke up bright and early on Thursday morning, gave my little guy a banana in the car, and of course some milk- last ditch effort.  Parked, said another prayer, and signed him in.  They take him back, and good old Dr. Jones, not even five minutes later, beckons for me.  He simply says "Its going to have to come out."  I start crying like a sissy girl, and he hugs me.  I give consent and 20 minutes later, my baby, who is known by friends and family alike for his beautiful smile, is embracing me, and crying, and drooling blood all over my shirt.

In the car we go, but I can't even make it as far as putting him in his car seat before I get a good glimpse at his mouth and start balling.  Yes, crying worse than my baby. I feel awful!  I KNOW it isn't my FAULT, but I think if I just ran over a millisecond before and caught the chair.  Or if I was looking his way as he climbed the chair and took him off of it for the 21st time that day, then maybe he would still have his beautiful grin. And again, I know how mean people can be. Don't forget how bad his gums look after having one tooth pulled and another knocked out and bruised!

It's a really good thing that mouths heal quickly!  I love that kid, and he is in good spirits. I don't even know if he knows that anything really happened.  He didn't take a day off from his climbing and being a typical boy adventures.  Even though I am really going to miss that grin, I think his new smile gives him.... character!

Sugar Shock

My body is in detox mode from the sugar shock conundrum that was last week, while I was on vacay.  I use the word conundrum because even for a self proclaimed sugar junkie, it was confusing how so much sugar ended up in one pantry. There was cake and frosting, ice cream with sprinkles, chocolate sauce, whipped cream, and whatever else you wanted to put on top.  I partook of one (or two and a half) chocolate cupcake with a cream filling and chocolate ganache topping.  There were s'mores, of which I only had one bite, however, there were a lot of leftover marshmallow's, of which I had many bites.  But the worst of all, was the sheer amount of cookies in the house.  Regular Oreos, gold Oreos, chocolate chip, rainbow chocolate chip, and even Fig Newtons (which aren't really a cookie, but they don't neatly fit into any other category.) Every time I would pass the pantry, I would have at least one cookie.  I have no idea how many cookies I consumed in one week, nor do I want to know. And I know I didn't burn enough calories running to cancel out what I ate in sugar.

Now we are home and I am planning on eating a little more healthy.  Don't worry bloggy world, a little more healthy to me means something totally different than it means to the rational world.  Here are examples of a little more healthy: two or three cookies a day instead of two or three before lunch, two pieces of pizza instead of four, not adding extra salt and sprinkle cheese to my Velveeta shells and cheese, a burger and 1/2 of the fries instead of the burger, extra bacon, and cheese fries. I think I can do it! Mmmmm..... cheese fries.

regularity...

Going on vacay with one entire side of the family can be quite challenging at times. your "regular" schedule isnt so regular anymore. you dont really eat at your regular time, or eat your regular food. Your kids dont really have a regular sleep schedule, nor do you if your baby is in the room with you and screams for an hour every night. I have done more cleaning than regular, and a l?ot less watching TV. But I think the most annoying nuance is your body not being regular! You guys know what I mean... poop! My little guy either has a major blowout (hence the cleaning) or he doesnt go for a few days. My big boy, without fail, has to go while we are at the beach, or swimming in the pool, and not at his regular time at all. And eventhough I have run 11 miles this week, I am definitely NOT regular. I'm so looking forward to some regularity soon.

Small isn't always bad.

Bloggy World, It's been too long!  Last Sunday, we had that storm that ripped through the Northern Virginia area, at which point we lost our internet and TV.  It wasn't until Wednesday that we got our TV back, and it wasn't until Friday when the repairman came out and we were up and running with internet.  Thank goodness I have a smart phone and I was able to do the necessities of life, like check facebook and email, on that machine.

I have had so much to write about, but since I am long-winded as it is, I will just stick to one thought: Being small isn't always a bad thing. And the small part I am talking about is boobs!  Sure, I am mistaken for a prepubescent  boy, especially since I just got my locks chopped off, but I am secure enough in who I am for that to not bother me.  Also, when I eat pizza or ice cream, my stomach sticks out further than my top half, but one good run, and it isn't an issue anymore. So I'm OK with that, too.

 I can fit into girl's sizes on top, which are usually a bit cheaper than juniors or misses sizes :) Being small on top is also great for working out!  No bra under sports bra, or double sports bra for me, ever.   But I think the part I like best, is all the room I have inside of the sports bra.

I took a run the other night and finally bought some headphones because I want to keep my friends.  I am SURE they are sick of listening to Honkey Tonk Badonkadonk for the tenth time- from MY phone.  It was also ridiculously hot that night, so I brought a baton-like water bottle with me.  Its maybe 10 inches and fairly thin, so its easy to carry.

Halfway through my workout, I decided I was annoyed with carrying the water bottle.  I shoved that thing right between the girls. There it was, right beside of my cords for my headphones. They were nestled next to each other, but not too cramped, or too tight.  It was perfect. That is until I realized that the lid wasn't on tight enough and water was spilling all over me.

Water was everywhere.  My shirt was absolutely drenched.  The cords were drenched. Even the front of my pants were drenched. The mix of sweat and water made me wearing a shirt unbearable, so I took it off when my run was over.  There were a couple of guys working on the road, and they were staring.  They were probably wondering why that boy was wearing a sports bra (ha!)

Now that I know my water bottle fits right there perfectly, I'll make sure the lid is on tighter, and I will try again tonight.  I'll let you know how it goes!

When is too late?

While I am finishing off the last of the reduced fat oreo's, and I have NO idea how many I had, but it was definitely the majority of the package, I am thinking three things. 1- Oops, I shouldn't be eating this because I should be fasting, 2- I'm pretty sure I have an issue with control, and 3- how long do I let this go on before I take my broomstick and bang it on the floor. So I answered my own questions with 1- Who am I kidding, I have hypoglycemia and am miserable when I fast, 2- Oh well, at least they were reduced fat, RIGHT?, 3- I will refrain from floor banging and politely knock on their door and politely ask them to quiet down. 

Alright bloggy world, I have people living in my basement. (No, not the creepy people under the stairs type.) Minus an oven, there is a full apartment down there. They have a separate entrance, and really the only reason they come up here is to do laundry, or on the occasion that some of their extended family is over and the kids want to play with my son.  I am more than happy to have them come up here and play, except when its time for my children to go to bed, and when they ask me for snacks and drinks, especially if their parents are right downstairs!

 Child # 2 is an awesome sleeper and goes to bed around 8, and sleeps for 12 hours, usually.  Child # 1 takes after his Grandpa on my side, and Grandma on dad's side, who all need far less sleep than the norm. He often doesn't make it to bed until 9:30 or 10:00.  On very rare occasions, such as family is over late, he might go to bed after 10:30.  Yes, that is quite late for a 4 year old, I know. I also know everyone has a right to have family over, and have fun, and be loud. I don't want to take that away from them, but just how much loudness, and just how late should it go on before I say something?  

I, myself, stay up pretty late.  After putting Child # 1 to bed, I need my no kiddo time, and then if I have something that has to be completed, I wait til even my husband goes to bed before I can accomplish the task. I don't really have to be anywhere early tomorrow, and I am not doing anything too taxing, so I let the screaming continue 9:45, 10:00, 10:15. Around 10:30, I start to get annoyed, but still tolerable. At 10:45, I play bubble buster on my phone, and ignore it. Around 11:00, I get annoyed again,and at 11:15, I think, this has got to stop. Finally, at 11:26, I go downstairs.  I open the gate, start down the stairs, and remind myself to be polite.  Three knocks and the man opens the door, yes- "My children are waking up, could you please keep it down?"  He was very polite and told the kids who are 3, 4, 5, and 12, they need to stop playing.  I say "thanks" and walk back upstairs, sit down in my comfy, soft butt chair, and what do I hear?  The adults are now being loud. They are talking louder than their TV.  Hey do do's, if you are talking over your TV, and someone asks you to be quiet, wouldn't you start by turning your TV down? Oy vey! No wonder I dive into cookies and just can't stop myself!

Jokes aside, these people are pretty nice, but what do you think, is 11:30 too late?

4 miles

When I started this running "journey," I could muster up enough energy to run 15 minutes, which was a little over a mile. Last week I consistently ran 3 miles, and although difficult, I didn't feel like I was going to have a heart attack or puke every time. To me, not dying, was a good sign that I could move on. So I decided to jump an entire mile. My math isn't great, but I'm pretty sure that's a 33 % jump in mileage.  Why didn't I try for a 1/2 of a mile, or even a 1/4 of a mile? I just thought 4 miles sounded good.  Again, this is no big deal to many other avid runners, but need I remind you, I dislike running.  Hey, its an improvement from saying I HATE or LOATHE it.

After taking 2 tylenol, pepto, a little "swaller" of water, and two bites of an energy chew, I met a couple of friends last night and one of them had a new route. She told us where we were going, and I SWEAR it was longer than 4 miles.  We headed out and two minutes in, there was a hill, a steep(ish) long (ish) hill.  I made it to the top, and was breathing like a mad woman. At minute 15, I had to start walking- side cramps.  They started on one side, went over to the next side, and settled low in my stomach, and usually I can run through it, but I was two running steps away from being picked up by an ambulance. I felt like I had caught my breath enough to go, and I only made it a few more minutes before I needed to walk again.

I turned the corner and decided I was being a pansy, and a few other choice words for myself, so I started running.  By this time, my buddies were far in front of me, and I couldn't see any pink or blue shirts anymore.  Another minute later, I see a couple of heads bobbing towards me.  Yes, they were coming back for me because I was THAT far behind them! We met up and I was off like a flash, I finally felt like I had my footing and could breathe and was a couple steps ahead of them, until the end was in sight.  Most people like to finish strong, and that makes sense, but walking to the end sounded perfect at that moment.

I got home an hour and a half after I left, (so we talked a bit) it was dark, and my husband was still playing video games, and my son was still watching! I put my son to bed, took a long shower, put on my robe, and grabbed a skinny cow ice cream sandwich.  I gotta have my dairy after a run, and ice cream is soooooo much better than skim milk, dontchya think?

So now, will I go back down in mileage, or will I stay at 4?

Random Thoughts

My day unfolds kind of like the postings of a twitter account.  And then I think of facebook posts, and usually when I am showering or relaxing, I think about all of the things that are blog worthy.  Nothing I have thought about today is worth its own blog post, so this will just be my random musings.

1. Why wear shoes outside?  Your floors are going to get dirty no matter what rule you instill in your home.  Besides, my swiffer sweeper vac and wet jet might get lonely if we don't track grime into our house.

2. No matter what kind of diaper change you THINK you are in for, put a pad under that bare bum-y.  Otherwise you might be pulling out the spot shot for your carpet, and the bleach for your robe.

3. Frosted animal crackers are a perfectly acceptable breakfast.  Its probably doesn't have any more sugar in it than that junk cereal most kids eat for breakfast anyways.

4. A piece of bread with spreadable butter is ALWAYS an appropriate snack.

5. Zucchini plants are bullies and like to take over the space.

6.  If cherry tomatoes don't see light, their color wont change. If you try to "turn" the plant so it lies differently, you will surely put a crack in the stem, and probably kill the plant anyways.  Green tomatoes are tasty, right?

7. If you want to be somewhere on time and it involves making food and packing for the day, just lower your expectations and expect to be over an hour late, so you don't get mad at yourself for not preparing the night before, or your children for not cooperating.

8. If your husband works from home, no matter how many times you tell your kids to stay out of the office, they will surely go in there.  No matter how many times you tell your husband to shut the door, he surely wont.

9. When your small child tells you he needs to go potty right now and you say go now and point to the port-o-potty, he thinks you are telling him to just go right where he is standing.

10. When same small child, 30 minutes later, says I have to "literally go right now," you look at the lifeguard, say you are sorry, and let the kid pee on the tree.  All the while the lifeguard is hysterically laughing seeing a 4 year old butt, and boy parts.

11. If your running buddy asks if you are going running tonight, and you hadn't really planned on it, say NO, or you are stuck running another 3 miles in less than 24 hours.

12. If at any time you are laying by the water and think to yourself, oh, I forgot to put sunblock on his back, you should probably do it right away.  Not doing so results in a very pink back on a pale skinned, blond haired little cutie.

12. The best part about coming home from the lake tired, is that you can put your little one straight to bed and the other one thinks you are playing with him if you even hold a car and move your hand every once in a while.

13.  When your body finally catches up with you from the zumba class followed by the very late run you took yesterday where you were haulin' butt, and you start to really hurt and drag, it might NOT be in your best interest to meet your friends for a run.

14.  Running shortly after eating chili is never a good idea.  period.

15.  But driving 7 miles out of your way to buy a mcflurry after running is always a good idea. period.

16.  There is nothing better in the world than kissing your children good night, even if they rub it off and say, "no kissies for you, only my daddy."

Pooper Scooper

If you intend on reading this, please put the snacks and drinks down.

My sweet 4 year old son, Big Boy, has had some sort of nasty "thing" going on in his tummy for the last 2 1/2 weeks.  No other changes in his body, temp, behavior, etc., just a tummy issue. And when I say nasty, I mean it.  Explosiveness. For a couple of days in a row, I had to wash at least 4 pairs of underwear.  His tummy would be really bad one day, and not so bad the next, then the next day he would have no accidents, then the day after he would have explosive diarrhea all over my bathroom floor.  (This is the cleanest my bathroom has ever been, due to the fact that it was cleaned on a daily basis for the majority of this stint.)

Finally, I decided enough is enough and took him into the doctor.  She checked him out and told me to put him on a modified BRAT diet. (banana, rice, applesauce, toast) Add in chicken and whole grain pasta and a fistful of other basically bland foods.  She also told me that I was to get a stool sample.  After a couple of minutes of crossing my fingers and hoping there was no poo on the doctor's floor, the nurse comes in with this little jar of red liquid and explains to me what to do.  Those of you with kids, you have probably done this before, those of you without children, I am SURE you have not.  And those of you who are like me, are going to dry heave after reading this.

The nurse, in her very heavy Spanish accent, opened the jar for me and told me to get a plastic container that I didn't mind throwing away, or one that I could clean out really good to catch the bowel movement.  Excuse me, I thought to myself, did you really just tell me to have my son take a diarrhea crap in a plastic bowl and clean it out?  Now lets think about this.  First, ewww.  Second, how am I going to ensure that he goes in the bowl only and doesn't make any more of a mess than necessary? No thanks! And then she told me I was going to take the miniature scooper, and scoop the poop into the liquid until it fills up to a certain line.  And THEN she tells me if it is after five o'clock, to refrigerate it.  Sure, I will nestle the jar of poop right in between the chocolate pudding and rotisserie chicken. You wanna puke yet?

I am glad that I have been to several girl's camps, back when we were actually allowed to play pranks, and remembered putting plastic grocery bags in the toilets of the 1st year's bathrooms, just to mess with them.  I put the grocery bag in the toilet and forbid anyone to use that bathroom, and gave my son an Oreo cookie to speed up the process.  Worked like a charm.  He did his doodie duty, and said "Mom, come scoop my poop."  Do you know how incredibly close you have to get to do something like that? And I had to scoop several times, to fill up to the line. Thank goodness this was one of my non sugar-binging days, otherwise it would have ALL come back up!  I looked over at the time when I was finished, and it was 4:57. The office closes at 5, and I am pretty sure they don't have a night drop box for stool samples, so into the refrigerator it went!

I had to work the next day, so my husband was lucky enough to take the jar-o-poo into the office.  He told me that he tried to sit it down on the counter where people check in and said "Does anyone want some poop?"  Hahahaha!   I went after work and picked up some probiotic capsules and told him it was lemon-lime candy.  And Sprite was lemon-lime, so it tastes like Sprite! It worked for him.  He took the capsules, proclaimed that it was yummy, and I kid you not, he hasn't had an accident since then.

Story: See Above!
Moral: If your stomach is that upset, don't go to the doctor- well- unless you like scooping poop, get some priobiotics, and take away all food with any sort of flavor.

Fitness/Running Update- curse word, curse word, curse word, my ankleSSSS throb!!!! 

Cheers!

what running has done for me.

so there are lots of reasons to start running, but what is the motivation to keep doing it? besides the fact that I am training for this race, lets be honest in saying i want to see some results. I'm putting the work in, so my jeans should fit better and the scale should not be going up. Right? I wish! I am unhappy to report that I am holding steady with those two extra pounds. This is an additional two that I have acquired since running.  That is four to five since January! One pound is around my waist and another pound just got added to the back of my tooshie! When you already have a large rear end, another pound back there is not needed. I woke up this morning feeling skinny, so I weighed myself, and those two pounds were staring at me, mocking me. The scale was saying "haha you lose, or sike, you gained!" I spent a long time on the computer at work today, oh wait, you didn't hear that, (back off, the kids were watching Shrek), but I googled this phenomenon. (gaining weight during race training) Apparently this happens more than not. There are a couple of psychological reasons, but a couple of physiological reasons, too. Gaining 4 % of my body weight in 6 months is not a good rate.  If I continue on like this, in 2 years, I will have gained almost 20 pounds. Clothes aint cheap people! I would normally obsess over this by changing my diet and exercising more, but the fact that my sweet son has had an explosive grumpy tummy for over two weeks takes precedence over my measly two to four pound weight gain. And not to mention all of the time it takes to clean the bathroom floor, AGAIN! On a good note, I only had 1/2 of a small candy bar today, and I didn't finish all of my chocolate brownie at work. There was some frosting left on the fork that I could have easily licked off!

Oh, what a week!

So much has happened in the last week.  This is real life ya'll, this can't be made up....

Moral of the story: Don't get a wild hair up your butt and think that sheer willpower is going to be sufficient for a higher mileage than you are used to.
 
Story: One of my running buddies had a good idea for a run.  We would run to a water bottle, drink it, and then run back.  It would mark the miles for us, and it would be an incentive to keep going since its been HOT around here lately! She put waters at the 2 mile mark, the 3 mile mark, and the 4 mile mark.  So that means we would be running 4 miles, 6 miles, or 8 miles total.  OBVIOUSLY, I wasn't going for the 6 or 8 and she didn't really put anything at the 1.5 mile marker (which 3 is my goal), so I was stuck with 4 miles. (In case you have forgotten, I think running kinda sucks.  Its great for your heart, and I really do think the race will be an experience to always remember, so I am pushing through the pain, but I have no desire to ever run 8 miles at a time, ever!  Kudos to you if you are into that!) Right about minute 9, I wanted to turn around and walk back.  Since I will be running a hell of a lot more than 9 minutes during the race, I kept on.  I heard not once, not twice, but three, or maybe even four times, I think the water bottles are right around... here.  Or here.  Maybe here.  So after hearing that, getting my hopes up, and then being sorely disappointed, I said peace out ya'll, and started on the way back.  I hear, Hey, we are almost there, come back. I shook my head no, and started walking.  I finally felt I had my breath back to run a bit more, so I did.  I am glad I had my phone with me because my girlfriend texted me, and I called her during my run!  Oh yes, I went there.  Funny thing is- she was at the gym doing some cardio too.  So through our heavy breathing, and my physical sweat on the phone, I saw that I was really close to the finish line.  I had gotten a second wind after about 5 minutes of resting and light stretching, and I was bored, so I started walking up the path to see if I could see anyone's ponytail bobbing, and about a minute or two later, I did see one of my teammates!  Thank goodness.  I ran the last little chunk with her and then stretched out.  I couldn't wait for the others as it was pretty dark so I headed home.  I showered, had some ice cream, and went to bed shortly after that.

The next morning, I got fell out of bed.  I couldn't walk.  I finally fish tailed to a standing position and CAREFULLY, picked one foot up, and then the other.  I made it to the bathroom, and it hurt to sit on the toilet to pee.  I tried to brush my teeth, and the toothbrush felt heavy. Lifting the brush up to comb my hair was hilarity ensuing. If anyone would have seen me, they would have laughed, and my husband did, all morning long.  I'm pretty sure I stayed in my PJ's until 11 when I was forced to change because my kids had swim.  Even holding Li'l Guy in the parent/tot swim class posed a challenge on my body.

The first time I had ever, in my life, ran more than two miles was the 5K, 3.2 miles on Saturday.  Then on Tuesday, I think that running almost 4 miles would be a good idea?  WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME? And I had only taken one day to recover? Again, WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?

Moral: Do not get mad at your pre-schooler for doing something he's not mentally ready to do.
Story: Big Guy did not get promoted from Preschool 3 Swim Class.  He was way better than all of the other kids in 1.  Better than all of the kids in 2.  In 3- standstill.  He really didn't progress at all.  He held onto his teacher's hand.  He wouldn't jump in without her there.  He wouldn't float on his back without someone under him.  He liked class, and never said he didn't want to go, but he just didn't get any better.  The teacher would report to me at the end of every class and say, we are a little nervous still, but we are working on it.  And I would see him from the other pool not doing what the other kids were, and I just got mad at him.  Instead of feeling good about him having a good time, learning to listen to the teacher, and learning water safety, I was more worried about him passing to the next level.  :(  He wants me to sign him up again, but if he doesn't get promoted this time, that's it buddy, never again!

Moral: Use your back up mirror.
Story: I hit my mom's car.  UGH! She backed out of my driveway, and THEN stopped in my cul-de-sac to put on her seatbelt.  She was kinda in the middle of the road when she stopped.  I backed out, looked around me, saw a huge truck parked to the right, so I turned to the left.  I didn't see anyone around me in my side mirrors, so I proceeded to go.  BOOM.  I put the car in drive and went up a couple of inches to see the damage I had done to my car by hitting my neighbors mailbox.  When I got out, I realized I was really far away from the corner, and then I see my Mom's car with a huge dent in the side.  FOR REAL?  DID I JUST HIT MY MOM?  AND WHY IN THE WORLD WAS MY MOM IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET?  She rolled down her window and assured me she wasn't hurt.  And I asked her why she was stopped, and she informed me she was putting her seat belt on.  WHO STOPS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET TO PUT THEIR SEAT BELT ON? Oh, and how ironic that a couple of minutes before this happened, I prepaid the speeding ticket I got?  I hope I don't have to get a second job (or third) just to pay for my vehicle mishaps.

I'm sorry, body.

I have sat down three times to write an entry in this blog, but I get distracted every single time.  So, as I write, the Big Boy is downstairs playing X-Box with Dad, and the Li'l Guy is playing with a broken piece of wood  that once belonged to my computer desk.  The edges aren't too sharp, so it's ok, right?

I'm apologizing to my body for the events that transpired over the weekend, and thus, feeling the effects from it today. Friday night, I went to bed really late, knowing I had to wake up and run a 5K at the butt crack of dawn in the morning.  Well, that night/morning, I couldn't sleep because I was afraid my alarm wasn't going to go off.  So I opened my eyes at 5:30, 5:40, 6:00, 6:15, etc. until 6:40.  Prior to actually waking, I dreamt that I would get lost on my race the next morning. Here is the funny thing- I wasn't at all worried about the race.  I know it didn't really "mean" anything, other than indicating where we were compared to the rest of the group. I knew I was in the bottom tier, and I was really OK with that.  My strengths lie elsewhere (I'm a dance instructor, for heaven's sake), and I have only just begun actually training for this about a month ago.

Well before I left, I ate a piece of toast with peanut and some banana.  Gulped down some water, a swig of milk, and took an energy pill.  No, its nothing like the no-doz we took in college that made us crazy.  Well, its a lot like that, come to think of it.  My friend who recommended them told me the amount of caffeine was the same as a cup of coffee.  No big deal, right? Ha, coming from someone who has never had a cup of coffee in her life, it was a big deal. About 15 minutes later, I showed up to the run, in a really foul mood, and let all my other runner buddies know it.  (I apologize for being so nasty!)

Away we go.  These ladies hit that pavement hard and were off in a flash, just like that!  I run with my phone in hand and my speakers blaring, so it was probably good that I was well behind the group because I'm POSITIVE no one wanted to hear the zumba version of zoot suit riot, or the fuego remix, twice!  My third or fourth step, and my right ankle decided it was going to hurt.  Really, already?  Whatever dumb pain prone body- I'm gonna keep going.  I followed the arrows through the neighborhoods, up hills, down hills, past yard sellers and other runners.  I thought I was almost home free and then I saw the sign that said 2 miles.  Are you freaking kidding me, I have only run 2 miles?  Oy vey!

I knew I was close to the end, but I feel a sudden burst of energy, so I sprinted to the finish.  Some people call this a runner's high, I call it the pill starting to work.  I finished at 33 minutes and some odd seconds, which was about 4 minutes after the time before me, who stayed with the pack.  Not too bad.  I stayed around and talked for a while, and then I knew something was wrong when it was time to leave, and I ran to my car.  I got home, ran inside and wouldn't stop talking.  I ran up the stairs to shower, skipped down the hallway to get the kids clothes, and was finally ready to go. 

Fast forward to that night, I decided I wanted to go for a walk. My sweet friend came walking with me and we walked for 50 minutes around my neighborhood, which is quite hilly.  Saturday night, I went to bed late, again, but my babies slept in, so all was well.  Sunday, I try to rest from exercising, but I really wanted to go for another walk.  I ate ice cream and drank soda instead. 

This morning, my girlfriend asked me if I was going to meet her at the gym, so I did.  I ran 26 minutes on the treadmill, and immediately had to go to swim.  Right before I left the gym, she asked me if my knee was ok.  Oh yeah, it feels great, I responded. HAHAHAHAHA! During the tot and parent swim class at the Chinn center, (which I was 10 minutes late for and the class is only 30 minutes long) my knee started to burn. When I got home, my ankle and lower back decided they were going to start hurting too.

So now I am left wondering, is it all worth it?  I'm sorry, body.  I really am, but I think I'm gonna keep on truckin'!

2 cookouts and a run

It sounds painful already, right?  Well it was.  For lunch, my two kids and I were invited down to bumpkin Fredericksburg for a picnic and swimming, and I wasn't asked to bring, make, or buy anything! Freeloading at its finest. We have fried chicken and all the stuff that goes with it.  It was lovely.  We showed up, late of course, cause it was in bumpbutt Frednecksburg, ate, then headed on over to the pool. All of Fredericksburg and half of Stafford was at the pool, and we had guests coming over for dinner, so we left after about an hour.  We got home and I made a yummy dessert using the very yummy, and tasty, Oreo Cookies!  (There is only a half of a sleeve left, thank all that is good above!) My family finally came over an hour late- typical for my family, and I was in a foul mood because I was HUNGRY.  Since hubby was out of town, losing soccer games (oops, did I say that), I was grill master.  Yes, I overcooked everything.  But no one ever got food poisoning from anything being overcooked.  So I continued to cook those little suckers until they were like hockey pucks! I finally sat down and enjoyed my food :) Although I didn't have A LOT of food to eat, what I did have was heavy. 

By the time my babies daddy came home, it was like 8:30, and finally cool enough to run.  I went out with my new running shoes- finally- and started running.  I was running at kind of a decent pace for me, and I was feeling good. I decided I would start my speed interval training since I did have some energy, and no knee pain!  About two minutes in- full on sprint for twenty paces, then I went about another two minutes, and sprinted again, I did this four times and decided I was going to puke if I did it one more time.  I slowed down significantly, called myself a couple of bad names for wanting to stop, and kept on truckin'. I allowed myself to walk once I envisioned myself puking on the side of the road.  Running is very hard for me, so we are talking only 20 or so minutes of running.  Another lesson learned- if you are going to run directly after eating, make sure it wasn't a hamburger and dessert that you just consumed, and make sure not to start your speed interval training :)


Even though my new running shoes are ugly, no knee, ankle or shin pain today!  SUCCESS! Now excuse me while I wipe the crumbs of iced animal crackers off of my leather couch.

91 degrees

I went walking with a friend earlier this week, and when I say walking, I mean a 10 minute mile walk with hills. yeah, we were bookin' it! Well, that was supposed to be my rest/crosstrain day. ha! I woke up the next day and the shins were throbbing and knee was aching. I decided to rest that day, which meant I HAD to run on Thursday. Let me give you a little background info about yesterday- HOT! I had a brilliant idea that right after dance team practice, and while my mom was still at my house, I would just run the track before my husband's soccer game.  (Which by the way, my husband's team lost to a team they beat twice already in the regular season, plus that was their first loss of the season.)  I had a dinner date with some fine honey's last night, and I couldn't possibly not show up to run.

I put my brilliant idea into fruition and ran in 91 degree heat.  Sure there was a small breeze, but I swear it was a 95 degree breeze.  I walked for 2 minutes to get my body "going." I ran for 8 minutes before I couldn't breathe.  My body felt heavy.  It seemed as if my legs were going through a swamp.  I ran another two laps, and then walked another lap.  It was greuling.  I finally had to stop altogether since I had sweat beads dripping into my eyeballs and burning them.  Seriously, my eyeballs were burning from my own sweat.  I guess I got a glimpse of what pouring salt into a wound is like.  In order to "treat" myself for my bravery in that rash heat, I ate an entire Red Robin bacon cheeseburger and fries.  Hey, at least I skipped the shake.

I'd love to post more my bloggy friends, but my Li'l Guy has decided to rip off his diaper and put on my high heels.

Running Skirt and Oreo's

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Running Skirt and Oreo's

Who doesn't love Oreo's and milk? The other day, my husband cut out a coupon for Oreo's and milk from BJ's. Do they sell anything normal sized at BJ's? If you have never been there, the answer is NO! Almost everything is sold in bulk. My husband said he didn't plan on actually getting it, just using the coupon as leverage for my young son who was going with him. (If you are bad, or throw fits, we wont get the Oreo's.) My son usually acts up in the store, so he thought it was a moot point. Since my husband was a man of his word, and my son did not act up in the store (SHOCKING, I KNOW!), he purchased the smallest package of Oreo's there was. 10 sleeves. 10 sleeves with 15 Oreo's each. Do the math people. After my annoyance at seeing this massive calorie heap sitting in my pantry, I took one out of the package. Then, just before dinner, I took two more out. After dinner, my son asked me to have some cookies and milk with him, and of course I had to say yes, but THAT WAS IT. Until the next night. The house was quiet, and as I settled down to watch my DVR shows, I opened up another package, poured myself a big glass of milk, and cozied up on the oversized chair, and propped my feet up on the ottoman. And I dug in. Boy did I dig in. I had a few, and thought, just two more, and I'll be good. My shows had finally ended. I looked down at the sleeve, and there were three left. Again, do the math people. I ATE 12 OREO COOKIES WITH MILK in one sitting. THAT IS 600 CALORIES. EWWWWWWWWWWW.

I went to bed that night feeling totally grossed out. So the next day, I tried not to have too much to eat at lunch, or dinner for that matter. It was late- nearing dark -when I went for my run and even though no one could see me, I put on my new sports bra (yes, I actually still have to wear one), my new tank top, and my new running skirt. I've read a couple of posts on different blogs about how new running attire can make a difference, so I bought a couple new things at Kohl's the other day. I was looking cute and ready for my run. ( Backtrack, do you remember my last post about my knee hurting after my run in my new shoes? Unfortunately, with fibromyalgia, once you hurt/injure yourself, the pain likes to hang out for a while.) I am determined not to be the slowest runner at that Ragnar Relay Race in September, so I figured I would push through the pain, and do some hills. I started out with a slow quick walk, so far so good. I was looking cute and not in pain. I started running and oh my goodness! Although my knee and shins were totally fine, MY THIGHS WERE RUBBING TOGETHER. Remember, I was in a running skirt, complete with spandex booty shorts underneath. Those things rode up and the rubbing began. I HATE the feeling of having my thighs rub together, and although it has been a couple of years since they HAVEN'T done that, I still don't like the feeling.

So my conclusion is: I need to run more, and eat less Oreo cookies, so I wont be annoyed by my thighs rubbing together in my cute little running skirt!

Week 2- almost done!

I knew I had to do it.  So I just went.  I went to the running store, with baby in tow, and purchased a new pair of running shoes.  The salesman watched me walk, run, poked around at my feet, asked me a bunch of questions, and brought me out four of the most heinous pair of tennis shoes to try on. 

First up, Saucony. I know Saucony is supposedly a good running shoe, but I can't get past the fact that they used to be sold at K-mart and Sears.  Don't get me wrong, I can get with some K-mart shoes, but high dollar running shoes, I think not.  Next up was the Nike's.  (OK- I have Nike Shox now that I have been working out and running in, but apparently they were never supposed to be marketed as a running shoe because your feet feel horrible when you take them off after the gym or hitting the pavement.)  These running Nike's felt pretty good, there wasn't as much cushion in them as the previous pair, which isn't necessarily a bad thing. Then, I tried on the Asics.  Those mamma jamma's felt great.  Not too soft, not too hard, but they may have been a bit thin across the top of my foot.  Yes, I am aware that Asics are naturally wider than the other shoe.  And yes, I am also aware that having to go up a 1/2 size and having to get a D width is not cool or sexy!  I didn't want to like those shoes because I used to only be able to wear Asics as a kid because of the wide width.

But alas, I said these are the ones and propped open my wallet and slapped my credit card at the guy behind the counter.  Then he told me the total and I about died.  (Remember, I am the girl that goes straight to the clearance rack with tunnel vision to buy clothes.) I tried to stay calm and talk to my ever fussy baby, and not let the dude see the sweat beads on my forehead.  I graciously thanked him and promptly left the store, with my new shoes. At this time, the baby was hungry and really wanted some chicken tenders.  So I appeased him and I headed to Burger King :) It could have been worse, I could have ordered my beloved fries instead of my salad!

I have had my new magic running shoes for a couple of days now, and I don't think they fit right. :(  I actually think they might be too big, and dare I say it, not wide enough! Haven't decided if I am still breaking them in, or its worth taking them back. 

Cheers to the end of week 2 of training for the Rag Death Relay Race!

Am I really going to do this?

As some of you may already know, I was "peer pressured" into running a 200 mile, relay style race.  Now don't get your panties all in a bunch, it is not a marathon.  It is a race with 11 other runners on your team over a couple of days.  We get a significant break in between each "leg" and most of us don't have to run more than 5 or so miles.  5 miles doesn't sound too bad, right?  Its a hella lot when you are not a runner.

From reading my blog, you have gleaned a couple of things 1- I like zumba, 2- I like to dance, 3- I like to consume lots of empty calories.  None of those are conducive becoming a great runner. My tostadas with sour cream and shredded cheese that just fell onto the keyboard, yeah, that's definitely not helping. (and the fact that its almost 12 and I am eating junk, might be a hindrance also, but I digress.) Although the zumba, and dancing/coaching dance are pretty decent workouts, they are a different mindset.  With those you have to go go go for a couple of minutes, and then you can get a break, with running- it aint like that.  You have to go go go for a lot of minutes!

In order not to kill myself, I am doing the training program for the beginners. Now, NO ONE else on my team is doing the beginning program.  I guess I am the only true beginner.  Either that, or the others are over achievers.  I'm happy with being mediocre or lower.  You have to have a baseline, right?  If any of my other teammates thought they were poor runners, they can just compare themselves to me, and I am happy to be the confidence boost that they need. Go team go!

Next week begins week 2 of our 20 week training.  Although I am looking forward to my manageable 15 minute runs this week, I have not forgotten that week 17 will be here before I know it.  If I manage to stay alive through the ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY minute run, I will most certainly blog about it.  Until then, I'll track my progress.  And I promise bloggy world, I will check back more often.  I have so much to write about and so much to say.

Goodbye "City" Rug

 Tuesday night I went to cheer try-outs to help out some of the boys with their stunting.  My mom put Lil Guy to bed with his bottle.  I know its a bad thing to do, but sometimes that's all he wants and he will slumber quickly in la-la land if he has his bottle in bed.  So I came home, sore as crud!  I'm 31, haven't stunted in a year or so, and haven't spotted in a half year or more.  Add in fibromyalgia, and I'm done.  Anyways, I went to bed right after watching the DVR'd Dancing With the Stars. The next morning, my husband ACTUALLY woke up before me and Lil Guy.  (This usually doesn't happen!) DH got the cute smiling baby out of his crib, with his bottle in hand.  Mind you- I am still asleep.  He rattles off some words about a bottle, and lays him down next to me.

My second born is happily sucking away because he doesn't get bottles in the morning- he's over one for crying out loud! But again, I am half unconscious so Whatever.  Fast forward to after breakfast, he poops. Before his nap, he poops. When we picked up Collin from pre-school- pooped as soon as we got home. I think to myself, he must be sick. No temp, not terribly fussy, he just keeps pooping.  OH THE BOTTLE WAS FROM LAST NIGHT.  Well, what can you do now? 

I can take off his diaper and let his bottom air out because of the WICKED rash the antibiotics he was on last week gave him.  I realized he was pooping every 2 or so hours. He had just done the deed, so I figured I was safe for at least an hour and a half.  As I am playing on Facebook and Twitter, I hear a noise.  A loud you know what noise coming from the toy room.  Fearing the worst, I run into the toy room and there is Lil Guy standing in his own poo.  On his legs, on his socks, and on the City rug that is meant for HotWheels and Matchbox cars. 

I go into Mom mode, take his clothes off, get him into the sink- the bathtub is upstairs and I feared for my carpet if I took him all the way up there, and clean him off.  I put all of the dirty clothes in the washing machine, and then I just stare at the toy room.  The thoughts in my mind- spot shot, steam vac, throw away.  Since the rug wasn't stapled down to the ground, and it wasn't really big enough to steam vac, and spot shot would have meant a lot of up close and personal with my son's poo- the throw away thought won.  And you know what, the Big Boy didn't even get upset or throw a tantrum, at which he is really good.  So the moral of the story, if a baby has loose stool, don't let him go around without a diaper on, unless you are prepared to throw something away!


How can something this cute, make such a mess?

(yes, this was a couple of months ago, but he is seriously cute in this pic!)

New Do and a picture is worth a thousand words

 

Look at that color!  That my bloggy world friends, is the result of going to someone who actually knows what they are doing. Here is my hairlogue, as I'm sure many of you can relate! I dyed my hair last spring (ish).  I went way blonder than normal.  Then, early last summer, I dyed it dark.  The blond came back. By the end of the summer, my hair actually got lighter because of the being out in the sun.  I dyed it again in the fall, and then finally several months ago. The last time, it was very close to my "natural" color. But nonetheless, the blond at the end WOULD NOT GO AWAY. After one "professional" dye job and two box jobs, I said ENOUGH!  I contacted someone who's portfolio impressed me, and got my "hur did!" 

I know I told everyone I was chopping it off, but really, I only did that when I was REALLY mad at my significant other.  But since I'm not 17 anymore, and he could care less what my hair looks like (at least that's what he says, trying to stay neutral), I decided to go for the "soccer mom" cut. Although for me, it should be a soccer wife haircut. :) Its appropriate for all occasions.  I've had this cut before, and like it well enough.  I've had this color before, and I really liked it then, and I really like it now.  Its bright red highlights, with some blond highlights mixed in.

On another note, my Big Boy did this last night.

Need I say more?

The Week of Doom

Seriously, it has been a week since I last posted?  Well let me tell you, this has been the week of doom as far as eating and exercising goes.  I missed my Monday night Zumba class, and you all know how important that is to me. I was watching my nephews and neice, who by the way, ate all of my snacks, even my fruit! Then, I opted to go support my husband and watch the soccer game that he was coaching.  Which is kind of a joke because FP was playing Pot, and they had to quit early due to the slaughter rule! Yes, I played soccer for Pot, and they are worse now than they were then!  So last night, I certainly couldn't workout because I just had my hair highlighted and couldn't sweat on a fresh color and style. This evening, I MIGHT be able to go, however, my mom said she was coming over to get a pattern from me.  (If you are thinking, wow, CDJ sews!?  Rest assured, I do not.  While my mom is perfectly capable of getting on her own computer and looking at a pattern for a quilt, she is all frazzled because the link is within a BLOG.  And she even said- "The young people shouldn't force the old people to do things their way.  I will pay $.05 to make copies of a pattern if they need it." HA) I am supposed to go tomorrow morning, but I'm sure there will be some perfectly good explanation why I can't go, and I'm sure I will blog about it, so you, the bloggy world, can either understand, or get annoyed that I have come up with yet another excuse!

So it wouldn't be SOOO tragic that I haven't made it to the gym, except for the fact that candy Easter happened. The Easter bunny did not bring us THAT much candy, however, the Easter Egg Hunts provided far more loot than I cared, or hoped for. I actually threw away 1/2 of a ziplock bag of candy because it was too much and I was eating too much.  Lets face it, when my 1 year old goes around saying " this... good... good" and pointing to candy, I've failed to lead by being a good example of healthy eating.  If my Big Boy wants candy, he gets it, because I want it too.  Curse you Pagan Christians, YOU SUCK!  If the candy I already had wasn't enough, I stopped by 7-11 the other day and saw CARAMEL CADBURY EGGS for 1/2 off. Heaven has fallen upon me. *insert angels singing* I only bought 2, but told my spawn I would share with him.  He reminded me as I was eating my second one, so I gave him a small bite.

I know there is some comedic relief in my blog because then you guys feel better about yourselves, but seriously- my sweetorexia is getting out of control.  Next Sweetaholics Anonymous Meeting is at my house.  Who's in?