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?