Thursday, April 28, 2011

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?

Thursday, April 21, 2011

On the candy bandwagon

So, I LOVE CANDY.  If you have read any of my other posts, you know that they have to incorporate some sort of fitness/food issue.  My relationship with fitness and food are tumultuous.  Some weeks I am really good, and get into the gym a couple times, and burn lots of calories.  Other weeks, not so great. Somedays, I eat a balanced meal, even have healthy snacks, and forgo the  midnight dive into the freezer or refrigerator.  Other days, not so great.  I guess I'm a work in progress! So this week, not so great. I AM ON THE CANDY BANDWAGON. I love holidays where I have an excuse to eat candy.  I love the candy that comes out during Easter time only.  Those whopper-like Robin Eggs.  The CARAMEL Cadbury eggs. The marshmallow peeps (not necessarily good, but you HAVE to have those at Easter.) The peanut butter eggs.  I could go on.  But I wont!  I am going to have a snack now.  Followed by some sort of fast food lunch.  Followed by an ice cream snack.  Maybe I will have a decent dinner?  Maybe?!  I will probably go to Zumba tonight, but I will most definitely grab a handful of Starburst Jelly Beans on the way out.

Candy is the reason my cheeks look like this!

Sunday, April 17, 2011

I can't kick this habit

My french fry and soda habit.  I just can't seem to let go of the goodness of the deep fried, oily, salty, straight from a hole in the ground potato.  And washing it down with some bubbly, artificially sweetened, and caffeinated beverage.  I know these two things are bad for me.  I know they are contributing to the small lumps overtop of my low-rise jeans, that we affectionately call "muffin top."

For some of us, it is the mini-muffins, for others, it is the normal muffins that you bake at home out of the muffin pan, and there are a few out there whose muffin tops resemble the muffins they sell at the bakery for a ridiculous price because they look like they have gone on steroids.  Wherever you are on the muffin top number line, I am sure if you had my habit, you would be one above where you currently are.  Like I have said before, I have small mid-section, but this post-30 and two baby back/side fat is JUST NOT COOL.  But yet, I still partake in processed potatoes and chemically enhanced beverage.

I wonder what it would take for me to stop.  If a fairy came down and said " CD, I will grant you boobs if you stop partaking of that crap," then I would do it. They wouldn't have to say what size at all, really, because I will take any.  It has to be more than what I currently have. My mom told me if you lost all of your baby weight and nursed for a significant amount of time, then your breasts would get smaller.  Whatever, there was no way my natural nearly B's could get smaller, right?  WRONG.  I don't know why I thought they would stay the same perky C's they were when they were filled with baby food.  Maybe I was hoping, and wishing, and praying (name that tune) that a water balloon would stay the same size filled and popped.  So now I am stuck buying EXPENSIVE padded bra's, so I don't look like a prepubescent boy. (From the front only, cause everyone knows baby got back).  Thanks Collin and Kyle!

On a happy note, I worked out 3 times last week.  And this week I get to teach my first Zumba class. I think I'm headed in a good fitness direction.

Friday, April 15, 2011

Broken Wheelchair!

I met my mom for lunch today at El Charro.  During the summer, I am there once a week or so.  This restaurant used to be an old Roy Rogers (I think), so it has that "hole in the wall" feel to it.  In fact, my husband severely dislikes going there.  I LOVE IT.  The service is great, the food is delish, it's less expensive than any of the chains, and it has the best Mr. Pibb/Diet Coke mixed drink ever. If you are a Dr. Pepper/Mr. Pibb lover, you will love this drink. I don't know why it is so good here, it just is.

So halfway through the meal, my mom says, "Hey, I was hoping you could go with me to the mall, I need new shoes. I've had these for two years, and you know I wear them every day.  I think it is time!" (A little side note- my mom has tons of health problems, and one of them is neuropothy related to her diabetes.  She is only "allowed" to wear a certain type of shoe, and they are difficult to find.) The kids were good for a couple of hours, so I decided to go with her.  After waking the baby up from his 25 minute nap, (sad, I know) I met my mom and Big Boy inside. The first store we went to, did not have tennis shoes in wide.  All of the fat feet in this world and places don't carry wide?  I have a wide foot, both of my sons have wide feet, and obviously my mom has a wide foot.  There is a need for wide people.

My mom started ahead of me down to the next store, while I bought Big Boy the exact same pair of gray N's as his dad. They are seriously cute.  I leave the store and find my mom happily sitting in a wheelchair and her introducing me to a man as her new boyfriend.  I might have believed her if I 1- hadn't heard that before, 2- the man didn't say- no I work here, and 3- she hasn't been married for 40 years.

Since my mom is now in a wheelchair, that means Big Boy (4 years old) is left to push Little Guy (one year old) in the stroller.  Not gonna lie, I was quite apprehensive about it all. I am not even down the first ramp and I hear a squeak.  Followed by a squeeeeak.  I push her down the ramp and there was a bit of silence.  Not too bad, I can handle this.  Then we hit the store.  I try to convince Big Boy to stay right beside of me, while trying to turn my mom.  Squa-weeeeeek- squeak- squeak- squeak.  Now heads are turning.  While I am huffing and puffing, and my legs are almost in lunge position to get her into the store, I see Big Boy happily pushing Little Guy and all smiles from the both of them.  That is until he runs and the stroller tips backwards and Little Guy hits his head and screams in terror.  I calm him down, and we realize the store doesn't have the shoes, so its time to go!

Great, now I have to push her back up the ramp.  Ok- here it goes. I get a jogging start, and just go for it.   Squeak, squeak, squeak, skirch, bump, bump.  Oh good gravy, did I just run over my two sons?  Nope, whew!  But the dang thing can barely go now. It's broken. Lucky for us, my mom does have SOME mobility.  She gets out and pushes the wheelchair back as I take my son to the bathroom; coincidentally, we JUST went!  When I leave the bathroom, there my mom is, a grin from ear to ear, sitting in a wheelchair!? 

What is she doing?  It's time to go, boys are getting antsy and I can't walk much further in my pointed toe flats (yes, I still wear these, they are super cute), and my tight-butt jeans. 
"I got a new wheelchair.  The lady said there was nothing wrong with the old one, and you must just be lazy if you couldn't push me in it.  I told her that you weren't being lazy, but she insisted the other wheelchair was fine. Push me in this one, see if its better."

OMGoodness. Lucky for me, it was better. Mom was determined to get her new white tennis shoes today.  Off we go again.  This time it was definitely easier to push, however, we still had to go up that stupid ramp we went down on, I was still wearing Target clearance flats, and my sons no longer thought it was fun to be in the stroller, or push the stroller. We got her shoes, dropped off the wheelchair, and high-tailed it back to the car, well, at least my sons and I did! 

We took my mom back to her car at El Charro.  I sat in traffic on the way home as  Big Boy had a Frosty, and I shared nuggets with Little Guy.  We were finally at home- yay! Right?  Wrong!  I go to get Little Guy out of his car seat and I can't even bend over; my back is throbbing in pain.  I hope you like your new shoes Mom, really, I hope you do!

Tuesday, April 12, 2011


Ok. You know that gross woman who inches her way up to the front of the class, is 10 minutes late and then proceeds to breathe heavy and sweat all over the floor? That was me last night in my Zumba class.( At least I had the courtesy to brush my teeth and wear deodorant, unlike many other people in the class.) I am NOT a glistener.  I am a sweat-er. (No, sweating that much does NOT mean I am totally out of shape because I don't work out enough.) As my smooth dancing, forty seven year old classmate, who has a rockin' body, and a great demeanor said- "Sweat it out girl, get them nasty toxins out.  The more sweat, the better!"

I am grumpy when I miss my Mondy night class. The instructor is just OK and her music is OK, but I HAVE to go to that class. I have a couple of acquaintances in the class that I get silly with, and a buddy saves me a place up front. Some weeks, this is the only time I actually make it to the gym.  Sad, I know!  If I don't go on Monday night, I feel like the rest of my week is already shot to Hades.

Would I like the class more if the instructor switched moves after an eight-count instead of right in the middle? Probably. Would I like the class more if she faced us for any amount of time instead of just watching herself dance with hip-hop rhythm, even to Latin inspired songs in the mirror?  Probably.  Would I try as hard to make it to her other classes if she had a wider variety of music? Probably. 

And now I really want to go because I have some competition, because the girl behind me out-danced me last night?!!!  Lol!  Go new girl, Go new girl, go head, its your birthday :)

So I did make it to the gym at least once this week, lets go for twice- then I will make some pizza and eat cookies! (Oh wait, I do that whether I work out or not!)

Monday, April 11, 2011

Mind over fatter (fry love)

I would say mind over matter, but the matter of the fact is, my mid-section is getting fatter.  I eat like a pig.  And, I like to eat pig, along with chicken, cow, even Bambi.  I like sweets, a lot.  I like fabulous fatty fried foods.  (love the alliteration there!) French fries in all forms are my favorite.  I don't discriminate- there is the uber salty kind- yum. The cheese fries- yum. The waffle fries- yum.  The curly fries- yum.  The sweet potato fries- yum.  The steak fries- yum.  And the endless fries with your meal dipped in ranch- yum, yum, yum.  So, today, along with my fries, I had a side of sandwich, and a lot of diet soda. (I'll kick that soft drink habit one day, I promise.) I had fries on Sunday.  I had fries on Saturday.  I skipped Friday, but before that, I had fries on Thursday.  CAN SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME WITH MY FRY ADDICTION?!

Look what I found-  Does it get much better than a French Fry Pizza?

Saturday, April 9, 2011

My house smells like crap!

Literally, my house smells like crap.

When I go grocery shopping, and there is no alternative to what I need, I just pick it up, regardless of the price;  green -peppers and squash for example.  Neither one of those really come canned, and there isn't a "cheaper" vegetable that can replace either one of those.  Peppers are just plain expensive!

At the grocery store, I always do a ballpark figure of how much my bill is going to be as I am waiting in line, as to not have that surprised look on my face when the clerk spouts off a larger number than I had anticipated.  I am usually within $10, so thats pretty good.  Well, as I was leaving Wegman's a month ago, the cashier said- "OK, that will be $105."(There are only 4 of us and we do our bulk shopping at BJ's and our miscellaneous shopping at Target.) I'm pretty sure I did the whole widen my eyes and shake my head as to say "a whata what?" But without saying a word, I swiped my credit card wrangled my whiny child who only got to choose one type of candy instead of two.  I put my three bags of groceries in the trunk, got the kids belted in, and then sat in the Wegman's parking lot reviewing the bill.
Hamburger- 9
Steak- 21
Raspberries- 4
Bread- 3.50 (I know, I can't palate anything but the multi-grain anymore.)
Pizza- 7.00
Frozen lunches- 3.00

OK- you get the idea.  So I decided that day that I was going to plant a garden.  Dangit, if food was going to be that expensive, at least I can offset the cost by growing my own vegetables.
Ummm, did I forget that we lived in Virginia and it has been cold as hell this winter? 

So I started my garden inside.  I bought the seeds, the soil, and the seed starter box.  I planted them outside on a relatively nice day, with the help of my baby and pre-schooler- oh boy were they big helps! ha!
I put them on my dining room table and opened up the blinds.  Man did those suckers sprout up right away.    I transplanted them to cups in the kitchen a couple of weeks ago, and then early this morning, I transplanted them again, into their new boxes,  until we can crack through our clay soil, and its warm and sunny enough for the veggies to go outside. 

I went into the garage, got the bag of garden soil, and brought it inside so I didn't have to keep going outside.  BAD IDEA.  What was I thinking?  I brought animal poop inside of my house, mixed it all up and got my fingers all dirty in it.  And then I was surprised  and couldn't figure out what that wretched smell was.  (The big boy's exact words- "Mom, what is that wretched smell?")  We left for a birthday party, and came home five hours later.  The smell was worse.  I sprayed the mess out of the house with Lysol, which is potent, and you could still smell the wretched smell.  We went to dinner, came home, and my son wouldn't even come inside of the house it smelled so bad.  I said aloud, "Man it smells like crap in here."  Oh, that's because there is CRAP in here. 

I'm so grateful tomorrow is going to be a nice day cause those windows are comin' open!

Friday, April 8, 2011

I was determined

to sleep in today.  I was mad at the other half, so I decided he was going to get up with the kids whether he liked it or not.  I slept in for sure.  I planned on going to the gym. That didn't happen.  I planned on zooming by the  pre-school my son will be going to next fall, that didn't happen.  I planned on doing the dishes, oh darn- that didn't happen either!

I did manage to take a shower- go me!  And then I stepped on the scale.  I'm not sure why I was thinking the number on the scale wasn't going to change from a couple of days ago.  I mean I had four meals yesterday, and ate three snacks the day before.  Duh!  Oh well, one of these days I will get back into a rhythm with working out and maybe eating a little better! Maybe?! 

(FYI, my little one has been carrying around a curling iron for the last half hour!)

Thursday, April 7, 2011

Playground Brawl

Nope, not me.  My kid.  Over a swing.  My kid had it, the other kid wanted it.  (never mind the open swing right next to it.) They both started pulling the swing, and then I'm pretty sure my kid started the slapping, as he "play slaps." The other kid started slapping back.  It was an all out pre-schooler brawl over the swing set.  After disciplining our kids, I told the other mom that we need to teach our kids how to fight.  Really, they fought like a bunch of little girls.  Man Up, Kid!

Oh, and I wasn't ready to go home, so I gave him a time-out.    Yeah right, does that EVER correct a kid's behavior?  Do they EVER reflect on what they did wrong during a time-out?  Time-outs don't really work, but spanking or slapping a kid who just slapped another kid is counter intuitive.

Hopefully we can stay away from fighting at the playground next time.

Food update: pizza and an apple for lunch.
Fitness update:  ummm... I ran over to remove my kid from getting a bloody nose.  Does that count?


the posts in order people.  That is all!

This is my dance y'all, humpty hump's my name

Seriously.  That song is stuck in my head this morning?  I'm even seeing myself in Zumba class rocking out to that song.  That's number one on my playlist!

This blog is about the Real Me, right?  right! Woman issues ahead, so if you can't handle it, don't read it :) 

I love being a woman.  I hate having a period.  Unfortunately, the two are synonymous.  You see, it has been 22 months since my last real menstrual cycle, and this one has come back, with a vengeance.(I actually got embarrassed buying feminine hygiene products, it has been so long.) Cramps, bloating, back ache, crying, short temper, angry at my husband, kids bothering me (oh wait, the last two are a daily occurrence), well, you get the picture.  When I was a teen I would have this dang thing for 7-9 days and have to go on muscle relaxants!  Hello body, THIRTY-ONE is not a teen, so I hope that is no repeat.  I'm not sure if I can make it through this week.  So yeah, I pretty much hate having a period!

So bloggy world, I hope you go through your happy day, pain free, whilst I suffer with what is akin to back labor.

Oh, and today will be a good day, and I will make good choices about what to put into and do with my body.  That's my mantra!

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Today- Oy Vey

No, I'm not Jewish, but I say Oy Vey a lot!  It pretty much sums up everything.  And it definitely summed up today.

I'm a pretty small person.  I gained over 40 with both of my kiddos and then lost it quite quickly. But the week I stopped breastfeeding, I started to gain my weight back.  I've gained about 4 pounds in a couple of months, which doesn't seem like a lot, but was about four percent of my body weight at the time. Even thought I'm still slender, there is no tone or definition to my body anymore.  Muffin top, back fat, bra fat, under arm wave, yep, in small proportions, its there. And here is the kicker, I have ALWAYS had a really thin, tight stomach. Honestly, I got "best abs" in the Senior Superlatives and that reputation, and tummy went to college with me. And then I had kids, then I turned 30, then I stopped working out regularly, then I quit coaching, then I- you get the point?

So I started off the day with my cup of water, freshly brewed cup of hot cocoa (100), and egg bread/french toast (150) with a little bit of syrup (25).  Not too bad, right?

Then for lunch I had a lean cuisine rice meal (280) and a soda (140).  Still pretty good?

Then I went to Wegman's- kinda hungry.  I had M & M's (220) for snack.  Small piece of steak (200), a lot of basmati brown rice (170), and some green beans (50), and a diet soda this time. That's ok, it could be worse. And it does....

100 calorie pack cupcakes, 100 calorie pack nutty buddy bar.

Then my sweet son offered me pretzels to share with him, (110) and a half piece of cheese (40) and I just couldn't resist! 

Add that up people, that's 1585. Seriously? I should probably hit the gym since it's 150 calories over what I should be eating.

Think I shouldn't be counting calories- you figure out a better way to insure that my once fitted jeans fit again. Jeans are expensive people, expensive I tell ya!

The Real Me

I'm pretty much years behind on everything. Bangs- A year after it was cool again. Skinny Jeans? Just got them this year. Uggs? About 2 years late, and coincidentally donated them about a year too early. Twitter- seems like five years after Ashton Kutcher made it popular. Blog- yeah, just got it, so you do the math.

I hadn't started a blog before because, quite frankly, I am really not that interesting. I read my friends' blogs' (is that even grammatically correct?) and think of how cute, interesting, and sometimes quirky, but awfully charming they are. Their lives seem way more fun, their children more well-behaved, and their days filled with more crafts, family time, and more hugs and kisses. Is their life really that hunky dory all the time, or are they really good writers?

This blog will pretty much focus on my quest to have control over myself, especially my physical body. I'm taking me back- well, that's the plan at least. But you need some background information. So here it goes.

First and foremost, I LOVE LOVE LOVE my family. I think the world of my sweet little one year old. I see such a bright future in my four year old's eyes. After 8 1/2 years of marriage and a fist full of years of dating before that, I still think my husband is witty and cute. My parents are such a big help to me. My husband's parents are there for us when we need them. Most of our siblings are in the area, and we are blessed that we get to see them often. My husband has a great job, and even though being a (mostly) stay at home mom is trying, I wouldn't change it for anything. I do work outside of the home here and there, so I think I have the best of both worlds. My husband and I both love coaching and helping people in our crafts- his being soccer, and mine being dance (and cheer up until recently.) I am active in my church, and am grateful for the associations that brings.

Whew, now all of that mushy mushy stuff is out of the way, here is the Real Me.