Notes To Self

Don't EVER buy the dollar store brand shaving cream. BAD. NEWS.

Remember that daughter will forget the stipulations of Girl Scout meeting attendance and whining will ensue.

Spend the extra bucks for quality cat litter. And food.

And shaving cream. (shudder)

Buy a small notebook to keep in your purse for when you forget your regular notebook at home.

Have one place for sunglasses, keys, purse, bills, etc. When looking for something, it won't be in that location.

Defensive Driving is BORING. Watch your driving.


A Long Overdo Weigh In

So, I'm down to a size 14/16 (depending on the store I'm at and how distorted their sizing system is) and I WAS weighing in at 210.
But for some reason I'm now back to 220.
But my arms and legs and stomach are not any bigger. I can still fit into the clothes I was in when I weighed ten pounds less.
Even if it is muscle I'm not too thrilled.
But if I'm healthy and my husband still kinda oogles my boobs I suppose I should be happy too.

Christmas 2009 -- The List

Wow, I haven't blogged twice in the same month since.... May or something.
'Tis the season for gobbling turkey and Black Friday sales and Christmas music and Jesus.
And the yearly culminated wish list.
Which for the kids means the 4,772 items Nana said "You'll have to wait for Christmas!" to.
(Lily circled a step ladder and Caleb circled Oreos in the toy book for Mimi to use as a guide. Classic.)
To James it means "The stuff I've been bugging and bugging and pleading and whining and otherwise carrying on for that APPARENTLY she has YET TO NOTICE."
To me, it means excitedly shopping in June and being bored in December and not really needing anything, except.....

A boob job. D's should look nice.
Laser hair removal. Legs only.
A nonstick muffin pan.
One pair of perfectly fitting, never shrinking, never wrinkling jeans.
New kitchen knives.
Liposuction. Say..... 20 pounds.I'm not high maintenance or anything, right?
A calorie free, fat free, sodium free food that tastes DELICIOUS and is cheap to buy.

I'm not too high maintenance, am I?
No really. I need a muffin pan.


Who You Gonna Call? Not This Blogger!!

Recently I awoke at 3:47 a.m. with two 48 lb. children nestled snugly under my armpits.
When inquired, they cited nightmarish nightmares as the motive for changing beds.
I reminded them that if they pray and I pray, Jesus would give them a good night's rest... in their own beds.
No go.
So, I'm really tired and I don't want to get up, so I let them stay.
Lily falls asleep, Caleb starts talking.
"I just can't go to sleep because the colors don't go away, even at night!"
"What are you talking about?"
"The COLORS. I see them in the air."
"What kind of colors?"
--names the rainbow--
"Are they... around people?"
"No, just floating in the air."
"Are they big?"
"Sometimes, mostly small and round."
"When do you see them?"
"When I am awake, in the air."
"Outside too?"
"Everywhere? Like at school too?"
"And they won't go away!"
"Well, let's pray about it, okay?"
We pray. We fall asleep.

In the morning I ask Caleb about our conversation, trying to figure out if he was dreaming or what not.
"Caleb, do you remember what we talked about last night?"
"Yeah. The colors."
"Do you see any right now?"
"Over there in the corner. They're like, purple."
--We all look--
"I don't see anything there."
"I do."
Lily: "Me too! They're right there!"
"Um.... okay...."

So, who should I call? The ophthalmologist or the exorcist?

Lessons from Babysitting 2- Typical Schedule

8:30 -- Acquire child

8:30-9:00 -- Feed child 2 pieces of buttered toast

9:00-11:00 -- Keep child out of the candy, buttons, bottled water, sodas, baskets, Betta fish, fish food, framed photos, refrigerator, cleaning supply cabinet, paper towels, toilet, regular towels, potpourri, candles, candle holders, scissors, trash can, nail files and newspaper.

11:00-1:00 -- Leave Granny's. Give child cup of milk, change eighth diaper and lay down for a nap. Clean up leaked milk. Check email. Exercise. Shower in record time. Blog.

1:00-2:45 -- Feed child Goldfish, mac and cheese, fish sticks and peanut butter. Keep child out of dumb bells, socks, dirty laundry, make up, toothpaste, sidewalk chalk, scooters, Cheetos found on the floor, mixer, checkers, recycling bin, crayons and purse.

2:45-3:15 -- Pick up older kids. Go to park. Keep child from killing himself on the teeter totter. Keep older children from killing him with "How high can he go?" experiment.

3:15-5:30 -- Return home. Mediate fights between children over who stinks. Try to entice child with rubber duck to keep him from in front of the t.v., which makes one or more children scream. Welcome home husband with a "Your turn, I gotta pee." Attempt to pick up living room. Find missing yogurt container behind t.v. Change 112th diaper. Clothe child in original outfit, which was disregarded after 58th diaper.

5:38 -- Return child to mother. Talk for a bit. Give gift of cabinet locks.

5:52 -- Glare at husband when asked, "So honey, what's for dinner?"

For better or for WORSE, for better or for WORSE.....


CAUTION: Lots of Vaginal Talk

We're mostly women, right?
I hope so.
So we all know the joys and sorrows of owning a vagina, right?
I hope so too.
And we all know that occasionally things get all mixed up and hell ensues, right?
I dearly hope so, because if not, you're readin' the WRONG BLOG.
So a few weeks ago all hell was ensuing and I logged onto Google and searched the connection between yogurt and balancing out the right bacterias in the, uh, lady's room.
I found out that many women had cured their lady rooms by inserting unflavored yogurt twice a day for like five days.
And I thought, I'm not babysitting this week, so what the heck.
But, these women did not report on how they achieved the inserting of the yogurt in the appropriate location.
(NOTE: Don't Google "insert yogurt in vagina" because you get all sorts of creepy stuff.)
So, I trotted down to the store and bought tampons and unflavored Greek yogurt, because it supposedly had a lot more "good" bacteria than Yoplait.
Then I went home.
After ruining eight tampon applicators I hadn't gotten anywhere. It just wouldn't stay in the applicator.
So I wait until my darling children are in bed and I approach James with a bowl of room temperature yogurt, a spoon and a smile.

"I need you to do something for me."
"I need you to take this yogurt and place it gently into my lady room."
"I... I don't know if...."
"Don't ask questions. I Googled it. It's totally legit."
He's such a good sport.
So I'm lying there and James is eyeballing the lady room and he says,
"How do I get it in there?"
"I dunno. I thought maybe you could think of something."
"I'm drawing a blank."
"I guess just kinda spoon it in there, like feeding a baby or something."

I'll spare you the gory details (ha ha ha) but after much laughing and some hand sanitizer, I was good to go.
So I lay on a towel in bed and we settled in.
Now, as any of you ladies know, liquid to semi-liquid substances eventually escape the lady room.
After about an hour, you can draw your own conclusions. Then I'm ready for bed so I roll over and James curls up behind me.

We have a nightly routine. We say our good nights, kiss, then roll over or cuddle for a minute.
Then we fart and go to sleep.
I dunno, it's like clockwork or something.
So, in my routine, I fart. Quite impressively, if I do say so myself.
And in the dark James says,
"Did you just..... FART YOGURT on me??"
"Yeah, it got on me too."
"So, are you turning on the light or am I?"
"I guess you'd better do it. I'm kinda... stunned."

So the next day we both agreed I would just bite the bullet and go to the clinic and get that nasty gel gunk to get this hellishness over with. So I did. And we lived happily ever after.
The end.

Lessons From Babysitting

  • Little fingers make HUGE messes.
  • Little bottoms make HUGE messes.
  • Little people produce MASSIVE amounts of mucus.
  • Sweet grin = nasty diaper.
  • "But MOM!! It keeps FOLLOWING ME!!"
  • Granny's house is a suitable refuge from chaos.
  • Don't bother cleaning house. REALLY.
  • Close all doors.
  • Carrying them is easier than walking over them and hearing them cry.
  • Get a simple car seat. Practice daily.
  • Consider buying cases of air freshener.
  • Don't say "Throw the ball!" unprepared.
  • Crunch, crunch go the Goldfish.
  • Nap time? HA!!!


Family Ties

Today I'm participating in a mass blogging! WOW! Women On Writing has gathered a group of blogging buddies to write about family relationships. Why family relationships? We're celebrating the release of Therese Walsh's debut novel today. The Last Will of Moira Leahy, (Random House, October 13, 2009) is about a mysterious journey that helps a woman learn more about herself and her twin, whom she lost when they were teenagers. Visit The Muffin to read what Therese has to say about family relationships and view the list of all my blogging buddies. And make sure you visit Therese's website to find out more about the author.

Sometimes family ties can seem more like family anchors, chains, tethers, rubber bands... you know. Fortunately for me I have a pretty good relationship with all of my family. Also, fortunately, they are all varied and fun and odd in their own way. For today, according to the above, I would like to spotlight:
Daughters are great. Daughters are fun. Daughters are cute and sweet and THEY CAN DRIVE YOU INSANE. Now normally she and I can relate on the mother/daughter level, usually when she hoists herself up to my level and tries to push her limits. Which is a... daily... occurrence. But I love her anyway. In fact I find it quite humorous when she defends Caleb (MOM, don't blame him! He's just a kid!), plays peacemaker (Ok Caleb, now tell Mom you're sorry...) and boss (MOM, he doesn't NEED a time out!), or just plain defiant (I don't have to do homework today. Or EVER.). But my favorite role of hers is poor, pitiful, mistreated, unloved child. She usually pulls this at bedtime.

"Can I have ONE more hug?"
"Lily, I've already given you three. It's time to go to bed."
"Go to sleep Lily."
(You see, there never really is one more hug. It keeps going and going.)
--ignoring her--
--still ignoring her--
--still not saying anything--
"MOOOOM!! I have to tell you something!!"
"Go to sleep!"
"But.... can I ask you a question?"
"Ask me tomorrow."
Caleb: "Mom she won't be quiet so I can go to sleep!"
"He's being noisy too!"
"Lily you're the only one who is making noise!"
"But.... WAH!!!!"

So we play this game for about ten minutes until she decides her act isn't worth pursuing. It is especially humorous when she is really tired and throws in remarks such as "You don't EVER come in here!" and "But I won't stop crying until you hug me again!" But I have to remember that she's just a little girl and little girls have drama just like big girls. Little girls only have their mother to let it all out to, and that's okay. At least she doesn't pull the guilt trip thing a la Caleb. More on him tomorrow!


This One's For Melissa

Recently it has been brought to my attention that since I don't have anything to do all day, perhaps I should be blogging. That's what friend's are for, right? So here I go.

I DON'T have much to do all day since the kids and James started school. I have this whole 8 hour time block to myself, and while I repeated "I WILL WRITE THAT NOVEL" like a mantra, I just can't bring myself to sit down and write it. James and I are still getting up at 4:45 a.m. to lift weights and jog (JOG!!) on the treadmill. Exercise has made me feel sooo much better! But by the time I get back, shower and get the kids to school I'm really tired! This is also partly because I quit taking my Arson. I had to. It was like an addiction, seriously. If I didn't take it I felt cranky and if too much time passed I got a HUGE, BIG, BAD headache. I think I know how a migraine sufferer must feel. So the lack of major doses of caffeine hasn't helped either.

So anyway... umm.... Lily joined Girl Scouts. Hit us up for cookies around November, yo. Oh, and I joined the PTA. What I want to know is WHO THINKS UP ALL THESE FUNDRAISERS?!! GS is selling nuts, both kids are selling cookie dough and other sinful sweets, and we got a notice yesterday to start selling raffle tickets! And this stuff isn't cheap, either. Like $13 for 3 pounds of cookie dough, which I guess is ok, but $6 for 10 ounces of nuts? That's nuts!! So anyway if you need any nuts or cookies or pies or raffle tickets, hit me up.

We are slowly adjusting to life as a nuclear family away from the crutch of the in-laws. I am still trying to retrain James into his role as 24 hour Dad, including Rule 45: You cannot retreat to the bedroom when one or more kids start whining. And Rule 72: If I'm making dinner, doing the dishes and helping one kid with homework, yes, you are automatically nominated to wipe your son's butt.

Oh, and have I mentioned the INSANE stench that accompanies protein shakes? Oh. My. Stars. It makes the most horrid, disgusting, gag-inducing nasal assault ever known to man. And James has to have one DAILY. Something about building muscle? Must be the anal muscles because for a little while there I almost CRIED when he farted. The kids and I literally had our faces in our shirts. You could smell it when we opened the door. I'm pretty sure I've seen a couple of house guests grimace as the air freshener wore off. I also tried to take him to public places a lot, like church, where you can't fart, but then the built up ones in the car made the effort not worth it AT ALL. But it has gotten better with time. I guess his body is handling it and not just blowing it out of his tailpipe rather than digesting it. I swear, it was like I couldn't even get close to him without him farting.
"It's not my fault you activate my defense mechanisms!!"
---crying--- "Just make it stop!!!"

My Zayden went home to Italy!!!! I miss him soooo much!! I hear he and Kashdon are getting along though, and judging from his mother's MySpace updates (My life is pure chaos; Can't wait til Zac has a couple of days off so I can get a break from these kiddos; God, please let me keep at least 50% of my sanity; etc.) they're good at being boys.

Oh, and heads up ladies:
Yes, I've had those monthly horrors too, but please have the decency to clean up after yourself!!
What kind of heathen are you?!!
I am SOOO glad Lily chose the other stall.
Speaking of, when do little boys stop spraying urine like a fire hose?

In other news, I think James is trying to hint at more toys. He keeps Ebaying fancy holsters and giving me those fleeting "wonder if she's noticed" looks. He also needs a Blue Tooth, but so do I. So we need... Blue Teeth? Blue Tooths?? IDK.

OH, AND I got rear-ended a couple of days ago!! It didn't do any damage to my vehicle (must be that bendy-plastic bumper) but his truck was pretty dented. Another teenage boy! What is it with you?? Leave me alone!!

Ok. I have to go make brownies and clean the bathroom (see above) and think about the novel I'm not writing.
Happy blogging!!


The Family Who Withdraws Together Stays Together

Since returning from Iraq, James has been on the nicotine patch, and I must admit, it’s going better than I expected. Apparently the dentist over there informed him that he had the gums of a 70 year old, and he decided to quit. What?? That’s what I’VE been saying for six years!!! Anyway. He’s not the one I’m worrying about. Since we moved out of my in-laws home, the kids have been going through MAJOR Nana and Papa withdrawal.

“But when I cry Nana gives me what I want!!”
“You just wanted to come home from Iraq to spank me!!”
“But…. Papa ALWAYS lets me have candy before dinner!!”
“Can I call Nana please?”
“I don’t want to live here!! I want to live with Nana!!”
“It’s too early to go to bed! Nana ALWAYS lets me stay up and watch SpongeBob!!”
“But Papa ALWAYS makes me ravioli if I don’t like dinner!!”
“What can we do? I’m sooooo BORED!!”

I tell you. It’s a circus around here. I’m still deciding what I want to withdraw from in order to join in on the fun.

School Fool

The kids started school a couple of weeks ago. Lily is now in 2nd grade, Caleb in kindergarten. They grow up so fast! When I first started this blog, Lily was in Pre-K!

I LOVE to buy school supplies. I like the paper, pencils, crayons, rulers, etc. But what I do NOT like is the INSANE amount of supplies they want. Case in point: kindergarten students needed 21 brad folders. 21!!! Are you MAD?!! And 2nd grade needed 15!! They also requested 42 pencils PER STUDENT!! With an average of 15 kids in a 2nd grade class, that comes out to 630 pencils!! Are they going to build a shed or something? Good grief!!!

James also needed school supplies, less in amount but more expensive altogether. For instance:

Gun: $554
Ammo: $650 (estimate)
Uniforms: $58
Handcuffs: $30
Two 3 inch binders, dividers, highlighters and paper: $27 (stinking binders are $10.90 a piece!!)

Luckily my step-father is a PO and we’re borrowing his duty belt and holster. The Lord provides!!

On an end note, the kids are getting their bunk beds today. Yay.

Workout Fallout

First, a weight update:

Weigh-In: 210.
Lost: 20.
To Go: 30.
New motivation: husband. The former Marine, I might add.

So yes, we have been getting up at 4:45 IN THE MORNING to lift weights, do some abdominal work and cardio routines. I. AM. DYING. Literally. Between the early wake ups and horrific gas, I am running low these days. Oh, the gas. I guess I should explain.

Every morning for breakfast James has a protein shake made of chocolate flavored chalk protein, soy milk, a banana and ice. Now I don’t know if it’s the protein or what, but fella has some hella odor for the remainder of the day. Every day. It’s so bad our apartment smells like fart when we return from errands. Even the kids are gagging, and I think my sheets are turning green. As for me, I’m staying on my low carb, low fat diet even though I have the occasional (daily) splurge. You can’t pay me enough to drink that protein crap. It tastes like chalk and sticks to your teeth. Ugh.

Going to Jail

If you are a faithful reader of this blog, you probably already know that I am frugal, sometimes obsessively, much to my husband’s chagrin.

“But… we’ve always had cable…”
“No we haven’t. Not a year ago in Ennis, and you did fine.”
“But… I’ve been in Iraq for a year…”
“And… you have two kids to play with.”

So after four days of being puppy-dog eyed 24 hours a day, I gave in and ordered cable. I also gave in and agreed that he needed a new cell phone. It is looking a little Iraq-ified nowadays. So we surfed Ebay and found one with functionality but not too many bells and whistles. Upon arrival of the phone, we called Sprint to activate it and found out that the phone was still under someone else’s plan. Not the seller’s though. Someone he got it from. Sounds kinda fishy to me. So we began packing it all back up to return it to the seller.

“What are you doing?”
“Trying to get the battery door off.”
“I just thought, uh, if it’s stolen, I should wipe off my fingerprints or something.”
“Right. You’ve been watching way too much CSI. Give me the phone.”

--shoves it into envelope and seals it before he could erase any evidence

Moving and Grooving 2

SO… I know I haven’t blogged in a while. But I have a REALLY GOOD, LEGITIMATE reason… JAMES IS HOME!!!!! WOO HOO!!! And well, I’ve been busy. You know how I roll.

Upon arrival (or shortly thereafter…or the next day… whatever) James informed me that he still wanted to be a police officer, and since I have been praying for God to guide James, as the leader of our family, in the direction that we should go, I agreed. While he was gone I, being the totally awesome wife that I am (his words, not mine), filled out his applications for the school and GI Bill, requested and copied all paperwork, and corresponded with the police academy leader dude. He starts on the 28th. We have also passed the time by moving into the city to be closer to said academy. I think the kids are going through Nana and Papa withdrawal. More on that later.

Now I knew that James becoming a police officer would entail spending a significant amount of money on gear and other toys, mindless worrying on his part, and teeth clenching on mine. But seriously, it hasn’t been too bad. I mean, I brought a book with me when he insisted he had to be an hour early to his psychologist appointment (to sign off that he’s sane and all) and waited patiently for him to explain his reasoning for expensive extras, one of which was a trigger lock. Oh yes, he bought a gun. A Glock 22 or 40 or something. I dunno, it’s small and black.

“Babe I don’t like the lock that came with my gun.”

“Really? Why?”

“Because you have to loop it through the loading mechanism and trigger part and by doing that it suppresses this spring mechanism and I don’t want the spring to wear down from constant suppression.”


“Um, maybe that’s how it keeps it from, you know, accidentally firing or something.”

“I still don’t like it.”

So he went and bought a trigger lock, the kind that runs through the trigger part and…. locks. But was it safe enough? NO.

“I still think it could come off.”

“Are you serious?”

“Maybe I should keep it in the safe.”


“But what if someone jimmies the safe?”

“Babe, you don’t even have BULLETS for it yet.”

Exactly. Story of my marriage. Running from the tornado on a clear day.


Things That FREAK ME OUT

Google knows where I live, and therefore recommends nearby gyms to join.
Google maps, and the pictures is has of my car.
Yahoo knows that I am 40 or more pounds overweight, and can suggest 100% guaranteed diet pills.
Myspace knows I am a mother with young children.
It also knows I'm married.
And that I like receiving free stuff.
And that I would like to work from home, doing minimal work, and make $4K a month. It also assumes I am into stripper attire, a practicing swinger, secretly in love with obscene fetishes, and obsessed with Miley Cyrus.
Twitter. WTH?? Freaky.
John and Kate.
Offers to increase the size of my non existent penis. And hundreds of female attention to boot.
Japanese animation.
Certain family members. You know who you are.
Back fat.
These things.
Douching. WTH?!!
Teenagers. *shudder*

No More Queer Eye for the Princess

So here's the result of her surgery.
NOTE: not for the faint of stomach.

The evil-ish look should resolve itself in about a week.
The surgery went well, she really liked the anesthesia part, and I giggled when she kept falling asleep while the nurse attempted to ask her questions.
Also, she kept her Daddy Doll THE ENTIRE TIME.
Because he was ready to be a Daddy when another wasn't.

One Cat, One Bag, Much Chaos

So, the proverbial cat has been let out of the bag.
(Stay with me here.)
Back in July (I know, I know!), Bio and his wife invited us to their son's first birthday party.
Can we say... awkward?
So after much thought, I decided to attended said soiree.
Now God and I have been having an ongoing conversation regarding this subject. I basically went back and forth and back again, what do I do, when, why, how. The usual. I ended up giving it to God and saying, "Okay. If you want me to tell her about all this, please move her to start asking questions."
And she did.

It began a couple of months before when she and Caleb began asking how babies were made, her three Nana's and three four Papa's and all that fun stuff. When I told her about going to the birthday party, she asked "Am I related to him, too?" And I just felt at peace, so we took a trip to the little bitty town I graduated from and told her the story of her birth.
Leaving out the screaming, crying, jail and child support, of course.
I explained conception as two special Legos, also called cells, one that a woman has and another that a man has, and when they love each other or even THINK they love each other these two Legos connect and make millions of other Legos. But instead of making a city or the Eiffel Tower, they make a baby. Skin, hair, organs, legs, etc. She understood, or at least nodded her head.

Then I told her that I didn't get the second Lego from her Daddy, I got it from another man. And since I did, she was technically his biological daughter, because biological is when one Lego comes from a certain person. Thus, she was my biological daughter and his biological daughter, since our two Legos came together to create her. To further complicate matters, if he uses any of his other Legos with any other woman's Legos, she would be related to them, as well.
So technically, she had three little half brothers and one little half sister.
Her response? "Aye yi yi!!!" *shaking her head*
*Which is exactly what I thought!*

That was just a summary. She asked a lot of questions and I answered them. Then I asked if she understood, and she repeated the story in her own way.
(Did I mention I have some genius genes in that there pool?)
So then she asked who the other Lego came from, and I told her it was a man named Z.
Not really Z, but you know.
Lets call him.... Zazu, which is Hebrew for movement.
LOL. A little inside joke, I suppose.

Anyway, I explain that Zazu is her biological father, but that when she was born he wasn't ready to be a father yet. So I went and found a man who WAS ready to be a father, and that man is her Daddy.
And she asks what she could call him.
"Uh.... Zazu, I guess."
"Yeah, or bliologlical father."
"Yeah, you could call him that I suppose. But it's kinda long."
"What about Father?"
"But not Daddy, because he wasn't READY to BE a daddy. He wanted to be a FATHER. But DADDY was READY to be a daddy, and that's why he IS my Daddy."

Then I went on to explain that he would like to visit her occasionally, and I also explained that he could only come over if SHE wanted him to. Then we talked about the other kids he has. Then we went to the birthday party, where she helped out her "little half brother" swim, open presents, etc. We took pictures. She said hello to Zazu, but didn't ask any questions.
And she hasn't mentioned him since.
Which doesn't bother me in the least.


Queer Eye for the Princess

Well, today we leave on a journey to Autin, Tx, to get Lily's eyes fixed. She was diagnosed in June with bilateral strabismus. If you don't know what that is or are feeling too lazy to click the link, I'll show you:

Yup. Clearly not happy. But after tomorrow she should be able to perceive depth better and not look quite like a walleye. Please pray for everything to go well!!!


A Wife of the Curious Sort

In the fine print of our unspoken marriage agreement it clearly states:
"Wife may change her mind and/or invent very weird things to do/accomplish/demolish, with no retaliation from the Husband allowed."
I believe he has the same stipulation, but with a clause:
"After nine such ideas/statements of intent/upheavals, Wife has sole right to make executive decisions regarding marriage/children/sex. Mainly sex."
James has decided on what he would like to do career wise once he returns home.
Drum roll please......
Police Officer.
Okay. I could possibly do that.
I mean, the po-po don't get deployed.
But they still get shot at.
Maybe I should quit thinking so much.

If you didn't already know, Art Appreciation SUCKED!!!
It was all appreciative and stuff!!!
In four weeks we had 3 tests, 1 PowerPoint presentation, 6 essays, and 14 chapters to read.
But I got through it.
And after some prayer I have tentatively decided to take a semester off and commit to writing.
Writing what? I dunno.
But I have a few ideas rolling around in my head.

And my in-laws got a new Chevrolet Traverse.
Because, long story short, my brother in-law um.... disabled the Suburban.
I'm so jealous.
Not of the wrecked car.
Of the new car.
But I made them promise we get it in their will, cause my husband was the first-born.

Weekly Weigh-In No Longer Being Numbered

As some of you may remember, my friend Melissa and I had a bet going. The first one of us to lose 50 pounds in six months would be paid $200 by the loser.
We were both losers.
She lost more weight, but not all fifty.
And I.... am still slacking on the whole workout thing.
I had to buy a new bathing suit because my current one was TOO BIG!!!

Weigh-In: 211.

Lost: 18

To Go: 32

My Love!






Cause I'm Feeling Like A Criminal

The kids and I got back yesterday from visiting my Aunt Judy and clan for the weekend. It was filled with zucchini, politics and swimming. Awesome!
Oh, and a ticket.
Technically, for "failing to move right/left with safety."
I like "the kid got in my way and I took off his side mirror!"
But I have a good excuse!!
A cop had just pulled onto the highway behind me, so I was reminding myself to be sure and use my blinker when I pass the semi-truck so that I wouldn't get a ticket, and .... I didn't see the car beside me and got a ticket anyway.
So really, it was the cop's fault.
But we were only going like 15 m.p.h. so I only got a black plastic smear on my door.
He lost a whole mirror.
So anyway, the lights start flashing and we both pull over and my kids... well, you know my kids.

"Mom? Why are you pull-- MOM! There's a COP behind you!!"
"What did you DO?!!!"
(It was so minuscule an incident they didn't even feel me bump the kid with my car.)
"MOM!! You're gonna go to JAIL!!"
"Hurry up and GO! You can LOSE HIM!"
Good grief.
"He has HANDCUFFS!!"
"And a GUN!"
"But Mom I don't WANT you to go to JAIL!"

After assuring them I was not going to jail, we did the whole "what happened, were you hurt, do you have insurance, are the kids okay, here's your ticket, sign here" stuff. Meanwhile, the Kid calls his Mom cause I guess even if you have a driver's license you still need Mom to come back you up if a mother of two decides to put the smack down on you on Loop 322. So she shows up, all huffy and stuff, and says to the cop:

"So you were a witness, right? I mean, she's gonna get charged and not him, right?"
Oh good grief.
"Cause his Dad is really chewing him out right now and I don't want anyone to get blamed...."

So I apologize and she starts in with the 20 questions and the Kid tells me it's okay and leads his mother away.
Which is good, because I can TOTALLY smack some down.
With my mind, anyway.
So with a little Defensive Driving and a phone call, I'll be returned to my previously unmarred driving record.

Almost Killed My Cell Phone

So one day I got this AWESOME idea to get a few tattoos.
Okay, so I've had the idea for a while.
I've just been waiting for the right design to stumble upon.
And these are what I got......

The first are Littlest Pet Shop characters on my right shoulder with the kids' first initials.
The second is on my right hind hip, and is the same one my sister has inked on her body.
Cause you know, it's not enough to go through three months of barfing, six months of carrying around a moving watermelon, gaining ten pounds of water weight IN MY FEET, and then squeezing them out of a hole that NEVER should have been given that assignment....
you have to get shredded with a needle and ink pumping 254 m.p.h.
And squeeze your phone in an effort to redirect the brain's HOLY HECK THAT FRIGGIN HURTS!!! train of thought. I love them!


I PROMISE I Will Blog Soon

Go get a snack, have a Pepsi, crochet a blanket, babysit eight three year olds, entertain monkeys....

Whatever it is you do, come back after August 8th.

That's when Art "Appreciation" will end.

And I will have more time to blog/RANT.



Art (UN)Appreciation

So like, I KNOW I don't blog on a regular basis.
But now that I've started Art Appreciation AND my in-laws want to take a vacation one week into said college course, I won't be blogging *snicker* near as often.
Taking the vacation means that I will have to do two weeks of assignments/discussions/exams in ONE WEEK.
Here is my self-created syllabus for this week (try to follow along):

MONDAY: Read chapter one.
Write chapter one outline.

TUESDAY: Read chapters 2, 3, and 18.
Write outlines for said chapters.
Essay on the Critical Thinking PowerPoint presentation.

WEDNESDAY: Read chapter 19, write outline.
Read chapters 5 and 6.
Essay on another PowerPoint presentation.

THURSDAY: Write "What is Art?" discussion.
Write "Texas Virtual Museum" discussion.
Write "Why learn the visual arts?" discussion.
Each discussion must be 5-7 sentences long.
Must post quality replies to two of your peer responses PER DISCUSSION.
(That equals 9 total 5-7 sentence posts.)
Read chapters 7 and 8.

FRIDAY: Write "Critical Thinking" discussion.
Post 2 quality replies.
Read chapters 9 and 10.
Write "Virtual Museum" essay.

SATURDAY: Read chapter 11.

So, during the vacation I will only need to review for the first exam and take said exam.

Whenever-I-Remember-It Weigh-In 13

I fell off the wagon.
But not too far.
I'm still hanging onto a spoke in one of the back wheels.
(Go with me here, people!)
The length of my plateau astounds me.
Not exercising or eating right doesn't help to shorten it, I'm sure.

Weigh In: 210

Lost: 19

To Go: 31


Painting My Room

Sometimes I come up with fairly craptastic ideas.
Like... painting my bedroom.
All brown.
With stripes.
I know.
So I gathered my supplies and began. It started out fairly well. The kids helped on the parts I was planning on painting over anyway, it surprisingly works up a sweat, and the wall looked half-way Martha Stewart-ish.
That half would up being the disheveled in-jail half.
Even James, being 3000 miles away, could see that the stripes weren't straight.

"Do you like it?"
"..... do you?"
"I like it. I think I did a pretty good j- why are you smiling?"
"I'm not."
"Yes you are!"
"I like it."
"No you don't! You're smiling! Liar!"
"No, I really like it!"
"You can't even stop smiling to make your lie seem feasible!"
*still smiling*
"I can just see what you mean when you said the stripes were hard to get straight."
"Whatever. I like it. When YOU get home YOU can fix them up to YOUR standards."
"No, they're fine!"
*still smiling*

So I redid all six lines with the help of my father-in-law and discovered that because the house has shifted, the room is not a perfect square. That means the lines will be slightly crooked because of the walls not being straight. But he did help me make them not so zig-zag looking.... Then I realized I would have to do the trim and door frames because James is an ex-Marine and certain things have to look right and BLAH BLAH BLAH. So I did that and realized that you cannot do so without a painter's best friend: BLUE. TAPE.
I've used the CRAP out of that stuff.
And now I'm over it. I don't want to finish.
I'm lagging.
But today I heaved a big sigh and drug out all the stuff and PAINTED A WHOLE WALL INCLUDING THE TRIM. Woo hoo!!
But I'm still debating on wether to put a second coat on the trim.
It IS behind the bed.
What Mr. Bounces-Quarters-Off-The-Bedsheets doesn't know won't hurt him.

The He-Child Understands

Recently the children have been asking questions about babies and how they are made, etc. I've told them the very basic things, nothing exotic (they've already found certain things they shouldn't have, you know).

About ten days ago my in-laws came home with a leopard gecko. Yeah. Can you feel my joy, people? The kids named it Yo-Yo, as in "Yo yo yo, what's up??" Yup, my kids are unique. She was really pretty and docile.
Until Caleb accidentally squeezed her too hard and certain insides that should remain on the inside wound up on the outside. Yeah. Yuck. We had her euthanized yesterday. But ANYWAY, back when she was alive (RIP) my in-laws took them to the pet store to buy some crickets. While they were there, they apparently asked how to sex a gecko. When they returned home, the following conversation ensued.

Caleb: "MOM. Yo-Yo is a GIRL."
Me: "Really?"
"Yeah. Cause the Peck Smark people showed us how to look and we looked and she's a GIRL."
"But we're not going to have babies cause you need a BOY to have babies."
"Yeah, and we DID NOT GET a BOY gecko."
"Why do you need a boy and a girl gecko to have babies?"
"Cause they are exactly like humans."
"Oh, so two boys can't have a baby?"
"And two girls can't have a baby?"
"So if a gurl human wanted a baby, what does she need?"
*thoughtful expression*
"A baby bottle."

Love. That. Imagination.

Weekly Weigh-In 12

I think I'll just move these to Monthly Weigh-Ins.

Weigh- In: 210

Lost: 19

To Go: 31


The He-Child Grows Up

I'm sad today.
My little boy turned five not long ago.
The joys of raising boys....
"MOM!! I stepped on the lizard's tail and LOOK!! It's still MOVING!!"
"SWEET MAMA!! Look at that lizard!"
"Mom, I'm hot and sweaty and hungry and I'm NOT having a good day!"
It seems like just yesterday I held him for the first time after he was born.
And now he's answering the phone.
*ring, ring*
-picks up phone-
"Who is it?"
"I can't hear you."
"I SAID I can't HEAR YOU."
"My Papa? Or my Nana?"
"Caleb, who was on the phone?"
"I think it was a robot."


Gummy Bear Boobs

Okay, so since James and I have been married I have always lamented about my small boobs.
I like most of my body, don't get me wrong, and I LIKE my boobs, I just don't LOVE them.
I think they should go up a cup.
I also have been telling James that when I lose all the weight I want to lose, I would like to pursue breast enhancement. To which he replied with drooling.
Now that I have lost a third of what I want to lose, I Googled that subject.
As it turns out, bigger boob surgery probably will require an upgrade in as little as two years or as many as fifty years. There are also complications, blah blah blah, to having bigger boobs, like unwarranted male attention and winning wet T-shirt contests. Oh, and loss of sensitivity to the nipple area or mass infection requiring a double mastectomy. But only in back alley operations, I assume. I mean this is AMERICA people, we have, like, antibiotics and stuff.
Oh, and you can also pick your boob material. There is the tried and true saline, silicone, double lumen designs that combine the previous two, and ....
the gummy bear implant.
Oh yeah.
Apparently, they are "solid, high-cohesive, form-stable implants" that "largely eliminate the possibility of silicone migration."
If I don't get the procedure done correctly, they can MIGRATE??
Like, where will they go?
Armpit nipple, anyone?
So apparently these implants stay in place, are really life-like, and have a long shelf life.
(Shelf life. Ha ha ha.)
I wonder if they come in red.
James really likes the red ones.
Well, he likes all the flavors. All things gummy, in fact.
I would be the ULTIMATE WIFE if I had gummy bear boobs.
I wonder if they have bread pudding lips and bean and cornbread butts.
On second thought... maybe not.

To Joe with those Bloody Fish Already!!!

I know. I know.
Enough with the fish stories.
But on one final note, all the goldfish died.
And Mr. Crabs 2.
But we found an ADORABLE black kitten outside and have adopted it.
I told you I do mammals better.
His name is Hal, short for Halloween Cat.
I'm taking Introduction to Sociology this month, and it's very likely that that's what I should be doing right now.
But I'm a dedicated blogger.
Oh, how I joke!
But it has turned out to be a very interesting topic.
More on that later.....



I would highly recommend that my audience go see UP and Monsters vs. Aliens.
UP is watch-worthy not only because it is hilarious, but for the geriatric fight scene.
MvsA is funny too. I like Seth Rogan.
For that matter, I suggest Knocked Up and Pineapple Express as well.
If you don't mind some crude humor and a little pot smoking.
Okay, a LOT of pot smoking.
Some other movies I really like:

Slumdog Millionaire
August Rush
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day
Iron Man
What Happens in Vegas
The Devil Wears Prada

You're welcome for all the links. Whew!

Weekly Weigh-In 11

Well my my my!!
Stress DOES help one lose weight!
Or it could be the Arson I started taking again....

Weigh-In: 210

Lost: 19

To Go: 31


One Fish... Wait, NO Fish

The darned sucker fish died!!

So we went and bought ten goldfish, and they're acting the same way the others did 24 hours before they died!!!

Good grief!!

(If these die I'm moving to another species of animal. Maybe reptile or bird. I KNOW I can keep mammals alive.)


One Fish... and No More

Well, the fish only lasted for three days.
Two days ago the inexplicably began staying at the bottom of the tank.
Not swimming. Not eating.
Just sitting.
Yesterday I Googled "fish at bottom of tank not moving look sick" and read that they may have been overfed and now have a blockage in their swim bladder, which helps them rise to the surface. Which makes sense when remembering that I woke up to two DARLING children happily informing me that they had already fed the fish that morning. The common recommendation is a diet of peas (yeah, those kind) and a partial water change.
So that's what I did.
And they all died, except the sucker fish.
Now I thought the deaths would be taken hard by the kids, since they loved the fish so much.
But I'd forgotten how... resilient?... my children are.

"Mom! Two of the fish are floating at the top of the tank!"
"Oh honey, I'm sorry. I guess sometimes fish just don't...."
"Can I flush it down the toilet?"
"No I want to!"
"I asked first!!"
"There's two of them! You can each flush a fish!!"

Good grief.

The Life That is Mine

Cell phone with alarm built in: $29.99 on eBay

Dark roast coffee: $6.99

Laptop computer: $689.97

Summer college courses online: $1,112.82

Psyching yourself up for your first day of "summer school," waking up at an hour that should be illegal, and discovering the course starts on June 8th and not June 1st: PRICELESS


One Fish, Two Fish, Black Fish, No Blue Fish

I must have had one of those brain farts that lasted for a few days again.
We are now the proud owners of two black Moors, two goldfish, a sucker fish and a crab.
How do I get myself into these situations?
So we take them home and set up their aquarium, complete with a bajillion ceramic decorations and numerous plastic plants. (I think the fish are still in there, it's kinda hard to tell.)
Lily named her goldfish Roselle, Caleb names his Fishy Fish, the sucker fish becomes Sucky and the crab, Mr. Crabs. I'm still laughing.
I named my two Moors Friskies and Fancy Feast. I liked Alley Cat and Iams but I figured since they have a lot of energy (frisky) and are kinda fancy looking, those would do better. ("Wal-Mart Off-Brand" was kind of a mouthful.)
And I guess I jinxed them.
Upon arrival of the swimming delicacies, Phoebe takes immediate notice. She watches us as we put everything together and put them into the water. The most interesting to her is Mr. Crabs, because he tends to climb the filter tube to make feeble escape attempts. I could SEE her mind reeling.
So the fish were safe because Phoebe hates water, as most cats do.
Woe is the crab.
Being the responsible pet owner, I Googled the species we had purchased to better educate myself. It turns out fiddler crabs actually are saltwater creatures that need access to water as well as a "dry dock." Sigh.
We all went to bed, I having decided to transfer Mr. Crabs into another fishbowl to better his living conditions. But when I woke up this morning, I was informed that Mr. Crabs was missing.
Apparently, my father-in-law had decided to take the crab out, put him in a plastic bowl, and cover it with a dishtowel. ???
And this morning it was gone.
Needless to say, the kids were HORRIFIED.
I wasn't present upon their discovery (I was busy buying a replacement crab), but I heard the screams over the phone.
The new crab has been named Mr. Crabs 2.
Although I like Purina 2 better.
(Get it? Purina 1? Purina 2?)


Bowling with the B's

Or, "How My Four Year Old Completely Beats Me Every Time We Go Bowling."
I love the way my kids bowl.
It's hilarious.
Caleb makes a running start, stops suddenly, pulls the ball to one side and tosses it sideways, where it zig-zags down the lane and MAKES A STRIKE.
"I got them all down Mom! How come you never do?"
Lily's technique changes a little every time. Sometimes it zig-zags like Caleb, other times it rolls so slowly I wonder if it will ever make it to the pins... and still other times she bounces it off the bumpers and into the neighboring lane.
Graceful, just like her mother.


Aaron: 114

Kevin: uh... 70ish

Caleb: 97

Lily: 94

Me: *cough* 42 *cough, cough*

Yeah. I was actually enlisting the kids to help raise my score, to the amusement of my fellow bowlers. I think my game would improve awesomely if I could have bumpers like the kids do.

Quarter Century Years Old

So on the 22nd I turned 25. Woo wee! How did I celebrate?
I got lightly wasted with fabulous friends!!
And by "lightly," I mean "heavily toasted and buttered."
And by "fabulous," I mean "awesome friends who are a blast to stumble out of a bar with... especially when they catch you after tripping over a curb."

Favorite Quotes of the Evening:

"How can such a beautiful girl take such HORRIBLE pictures?"
-- Wheat
"People think that because I have a psychology major I want to sit around and analyze them. I'm like, screw you!!" -- Tasha
"You wouldn't look quite so charming without your front teeth, I don't suppose."
-- Aaron
"I read your blog!!" -- Mikel
"I hate relationships." -- Taryn
"So like, I'm not kicking you out of my house... but I'm gonna go to bed. Lock the door on your way out." -- someone whose name started with a "J"

Partying with classmates and new friends is something I need to do more often. Like, weekly. But for shiz, I'm getting a tad old for this.
Or my six years of being sober has significantly lowered my tolerance level.
One of the two.

P.S. I want some of those pictures Mikel!!

Weekly Weigh-In 10

I laugh as I type "weekly." So funny.

Weigh-In: 215

Lost: 14

To Go: 36

Deadline: 49 days.


Weekly Weigh-In 9

I will flip my top if by next wek I have not lost at least half a pound.
Stagnation sucks.

Weigh-In: 217

Lost: 12

To Go: 38


Happy Mother's Day!

A little early, but hey at least I didn't forget!
One thing I love about my kids being in school is the projects they make when a holiday rolls around. This Mother's Day I received zinnias, a handmade sunflower, a poem book, and two fill-in-the-blank worksheets about me. I like these, particularly because you never know what to expect. The capital letters are their fill-ins....

My Special Mother
by Lily

My mother is the most wonderful mom in the world! She's as pretty as A ANGEL and she's a AWESOME cook.
She loves to READ.
Her favorite animal is KITTEN and her favorite food is CHOCOLATE, and her favorite color is RAINBOW.
She likes to PLAY WITH ME when she has time and she is crazy about HUGE STUFF.
In the old days when Mom was little, she liked to PLAY.
I think Mom looks funny when she DOES FUNNY FACES.
I know she's really mad when she HAS TO MAKE ME FOOD.
I wish Mom would BE with me every day!
I wouldn't trade my mom for TWO MILLION DOLLARS.

Okay, WTH happened here?! I spend all day in their presence, playing with them even more now that I've upped my meds; I only get upset when she asks for a snack at ten p.m.; and I'm crazy about huge stuff?! What's worse is she wouldn't explain it!!

My Mom is Amazing
by Caleb

My mom is amazing!
When I'm sick she makes me feel better by GIVING ME MEDICINE, and when I am sad she cheers me up by TAKING ME SOMEWHERE.
My mom can be really funny. One time she really made me laugh when she TICKLED ME.
My mom is a SUPER cook. I like it when she makes me PIZZA and SPAGHETTI.
My mom does so many things. When I get home from school she usually JUMPS ON THE TRAMPOLINE WITH ME.
I like to help her CLEAN and PLANT THE GARDEN.
I love to watch my mom MOP THE FLOOR.
One day I hope she'll teach me how to DO A BACK FLIP ON THE TRAMPOLINE.
My mom is really special to me. I love her most because SHE READS BOOKS TO ME.
Happy Mother's Day!

SEE, I TOLD YOU. I jump on the trampoline, read them books, instigate tickle fights and apparently look funny when I mop. Tough luck on the whole back flip thing, though. Sorry kids! Elephants don't do flips.


Weekly Weigh-In 8

The dieting I can actually live with.
Heavenly Father, please give me strength.

Weigh-In: 216

Lost: 13

To Go: 37


Not in the Entertainment Business for a Reason

I have come to the conclusion that I am not a very entertaining person... at least by two-year-old standards. Case in point: babysitting my nephew.
Now I like kids, especially my own and my nephews. I am always learning about them either through school or personal experience, of which PE is more fun, frustrating and messy. But with some kids (ok, just one so far), it takes a little work to master the whole "just because I'm an adult doesn't mean I'm an alien" thing.
Which is the PRECISE look he gives me sometimes:

A little disheartening, eh? But after a few days together I think I've kind of figured out how he "works," and it's because he's really smart. No, really. Our day kind of goes like this.....

"Hey Zayden! How are you?"
"What have you been doing?"
-- I cannot believe this. --
"What have you been doing, Zayden?"
-- Are you serious? The baby voice? I'm not one, you know. --
"Do you want to go to the toy room?"
-ever so slight nod of the head--
--walk, walk--
"What do you want to play with?"
-- Leave me alone. --
"Are you still sleepy?"
--slight shake of the head--
"Okay. Do you want to see the new toy Lily got?"
-- NOT interested. --
--mutual staring--
-- Slacker. Think quicker. --
"Do you want to color?"
-- Finally, a novel idea. --
--color, color--
"Hey Zayden, do you know what this is? It's you're name!"
-- Oh. My. Gosh. DUH. --
"See, Z,A,Y,D,E,N!!"
-- What do you want, a golden star? Leave me to my work, please. --


"I hungry."
"You're hungry? Okay! What do you want to eat?"
-- sigh --
"Uh huh."
"Well we're going to eat some lunch, then we can have candy okay?"
-- If I were as tall as I am smart, you'd have a bigger problem than you do now. --
"Do you like Spaghetti-O's?"
-- NO. --
"How about a sandwich?"
-- sigh --
"What about a bowl of cereal?"
-- I would LIKE what I asked for in the FIRST PLACE. --
"Okay... Goldfish?"
-- Heck yeah, now you're talkin'!! --


"Hey Zayden, do you want to watch cartoons?"
-- I thought two other kids lived here as well. --
"We could watch SpongeBob..."
-- They must still be at school. --
"... or we could watch Scooby-Doo..."
-- I hope they come home soon. --
"... or how about Dora?"
-- PLEASE. Come home soon. --


"Look Zayden, Lily and Caleb are home!"

--blissfully playing with my kids--
"Hey guys, who wants green juice?"
-- You're still here? Geez. --
"ME!!" "ME!!"
-- Oh, I suppose... --

But I am happy to report that things have gotten a lot better. I think. At least he talks to me, smiles and laughs now. I still think he questions my competence quite frequently.

"Zayden, do you need to be changed?"
-- Well, I am HOPING it wasn't YOU. --


That Holy Feeling 13 (Can You Give Us Directions?)

So everyone who reads my blog probably knows that we are a military family. James is in the National Guard, currently deployed to Iraq, and so on. Some of you may know that in the 5.75 years we've been married James has had five careers and a couple I talked him out of. In order, they have been:

Correctional Officer: didn't like working nights out of town.
Sheet Metal Operator Person: don't really know on this one. Came home with a new job one day.
City Water Repair Dude: didn't pay enough, insurance sucked.
Re-Enlist in Marines: didn't go through. Too much red tape.
Firefighter: volunteered; guess that got it out of his system.
National Guard: still doing this, though I figure it's because he HAS to.
Electrician: same as the water dept. Plus, I had to do our own taxes.

We have been discussing our options when he gets back from Iraq, since his contract in the NG will be expired. We weighed the pros and cons of staying in the military:

might get to see the world
good, dependable pay
great insurance
retire in his 40's
the uniform
(c'mon, you know I had to put that in there!)

probable deployments

We also surveyed the pros and cons of civilian life:

no chance of deployment
staying close to the family
um.... no deployments

lower paychecks
questionable insurance
retire in his 60's
no uniform :(

I've always kind of been the leader in our relationship, unless James goes off and spontaneously joins the military or some such shenanigans. For a while there I really thought we were supposed to stay in the military. If we had faith, I reasoned, even another deployment would end up being beneficial to us. We'd done it twice already. This would also be an opportune time to strengthen our faith in believing God would keep James at home.

At the same time, I've been working on handing James the proverbial reigns because for one, the Bible says the husband should drive. It's also exhausting making most of the big decisions. So I encouraged both of us to keep our minds open to God's voice and instruction.
Well, I kept running across the Proverb that says "Man makes his plans, but the LORD guides his footsteps." I mean everywhere. Bible study, group study, daily Bible verse emails, normal conversations, you name it. I was like, Okay God, what are you trying to say?

Then, after watching all the goodbyes on James' last day of leave, I decided that no amount of money, insurance, or sight-seeing could compensate for having to tell your children goodbye for a year. Maybe three or four times in their lifetime. So I said something to James about it, and he said, "Yeah, I've been thinking about that too."
"Why didn't you SAY anything?!"
"Well, you just seemed so stuck on me doing the military thing."

Note to men: it helps if you TAKE the reigns when your wife OFFERS them to you.
So I went on ranting that if he had never said anything, we might have gone off on the wrong path and that he needed to speak up often. Then I had promise I wouldn't get mad every time he spoke up. Which kind of makes me wonder....
Then the powers that be signed a new Post 9/11 GI Bill that is completely better than the old one. So I think when James gets back he is going to start school to become who knows what. But God will decide that.
Unless he watches a documentary about astronauts.
Oy vie.

Dieting: Not For The Faint Of Heart

So James has been on this supplement kick for a while now, and while his results do look nice, I don't think supplements are right for me.
Case in point: Arson. Now, before I start taking any sort of supplement, I wanted to check it out to make sure it was safe. No harsh side effects or anything. On the website it flashes:

Okay, first, are we burning fat or cutting meat? Shredded? Peeled? Wave pulse? Whatever. Now for the ingredient list:

Green Tea Extract
White Willow Bark Extract
5 ingredients that start with Gamma

So... it's a cup of coffee with a special stick in it with some eighteen letter ingredients for flavor?
Now for the directions:

Take three caplets twice a day. Start off taking one caplet once a day, to assess individual tolerance (WTH??). Do not take within five hours of bedtime. Stay hydrated.

And the warnings:

Don't use if you: are under 18, have had a heart attack, are pregnant or nursing, are sensitive to stimulants, are taking antidepressants or an MAOI, or if you have ANY medical condition or have a family history of ANY medical condition. Don't exceed recommended dosage or combine with any other sort of caffeine.

RIGHT. That pretty much eliminates... everyone.
What the heck, you had me at fat burner. So I take one pill and... nothing. James advises me to keep taking them because "they're still doing something, even if you can't feel it." Okay. Three days later I decide to up the dosage and take two. Big mistake. We were at a restaurant.

"Hmm. This place is like really popular. Like, really busy and stuff. Did you know they have a Betta fish IN THE BATHROOM? Seriously! It's all floating around and looking at you while you try to do your business and hey! Look at those lemons! Aren't they pretty? It sure is hot in here. Are you hot? No? Okay. The food here is like so awesome, I'm glad we came here. Maybe we should come back tomorrow too. And the next day! If it's not too busy. This is a pretty busy place. I need more tea. You're not hot? Good grief it's hot in here. I could sure use more tea. Do you know how they make Splenda? It's really quite interesting..."

Yeah. No more of that stuff. James was weirded out and my mother-in-law didn't know what to think. That, and the "crash" was something out of a bad drug movie. Blah.
So I sent it with James. It keeps him "focused." I bet so.

Home Sweet Home

So James just had his two week leave. Now he's back in the sandbox, and not the fun kind either. We had so much fun! The kids had him on the trampoline at least two hours of each day, we ate at every restaurant within a fifty mile radius, visited several family members, went to the IMAX theater in Fort Worth, and chilled out on the couch watching movies most nights. Heaven.
Oh yeah, and the sex part. That was nice too.
The only problem with him taking his leave early was that I and the kids were in school the whole time.

"So... we should take the kids out of school a little early today."
"Um, why?"
"You know, so we can go do stuff."
"Like what?"
"I dunno. We could take them to play putt-putt golf or something."
"You gonna write that on the sign-out sheet?"
"I think they will understand, with their dad being home and all."
"So... I'll go sign them out real quick."
"It's 9:30!!"
"Yeah. Maybe I should wait until eleven."

Now what James couldn't understand was why I didn't want to get them out early every single day he was home. First, I see them all day, every day. Their school hours are my "me" hours. Secondly, there are state laws that require kids being in school most hours of most school days. Sadly, this is true for children of deployed soldiers as well.

"Well they should understand, you know, with me just getting home and all."
"Yes, I know. But state and school laws are a little like military law. Only the brainwashed understand it."
"Well, they should make an exception for our kids."
"I know and you know and everyone else knows, but that isn't going to change the laws by itself."
"Well.... they should just do it. The principal will understand."
"So you want him to risk his job and lie for us to be able to get the kids out of school?"
"I'm pretty sure he would do it."
"You're insane."
"Um, excuse me. I'm reading my History textbook."
(poke poke)
"WAS reading."
"I need to read this for my test."
"I'VE got something you can study..."
"Oh please. You sound like a teenager."
"I FEEL like a teenager..."
(poke poke)
"Seriously, this is due today."
"Can I read WHILE you do that?"
"Works for me!!!"
James also came home some twenty pounds lighter. Sigh.

"Hey, um, we need to go by Wal-Mart before we go home."
"I, uh, didn't bring any clothes with me."
"What? Why?"
"Because they, uh, don't fit."
"You didn't bring ANYTHING with you?"
"Not even SOCKS?"
"You would be surprised."

Sometimes I really hate men.

Love Potion Number (6)9

My husband's train of thought throughout his ENTIRE two week leave:

REAL food.
--scarf, binge, yum yum yum--
--roams around house--
--spies me napping in the bedroom--
--nudge nudge--
--snore... ignore...--
--poke, poke--
Grrr. Not AGAIN.
--push away--
--poke, prod, pry--
Grrr. FINE.

Weekly Weigh-In 7

You know what's sad?
This is titled "Weekly Weigh-In 7" and I've been "dieting" for almost 16 weeks.
Oh well. Oh, and Melissa is currently beating me by 15 pounds. Grrr.

Weigh-In: 218

Lost: 12

To Go: 38



I know I haven't blogged in like, 18 days, but James has been home for 16 of those so don't hold me entirely accountable, m'kay?

More posts coming soon. Pinky swear.


The Proof, I Tell You!

I have had a long-standing suspicion that time travels slower while one is exercising.
I recently found PROOF of this phenomenon.
The time was 2:08 p.m. on my phone.
I then set the phone down and immediately started my 25 minute workout (timed on my treadmill). Which would have me ending at 2:33 p.m., correct?
When I picked up my phone, it read 2:31!!!
Where did those two minutes go??!!!!
I want an explanation.

Weekly Weigh-In 6

I might maybe kinda be starting to sort of like exercising.

Weigh-In: 218

Lost: 12

To Go: 38

Softball: Enjoy Responsibly

There comes a time in every young girl's life when the opportunity to play sports presents itself; to teach you responsibility, accountability, teamwork, and the joy of physical exertion.
I told it to eff off.
Lily said "Bring it on!!"
I carefully explained to her the consequences of (Mommy paying $50 for her to play and then her getting tired of it and wanting to quit) being on a team, that others depended on you (and your lazy Mom to haul herself off the couch) to show up for every practice and every game. I also explained to her that this was a commitment (of monetary proportions) that I would (grudgingly on Saturday mornings) hold her to. She was all head-nodding and "Yup!" "Uh huh!" "Sure!"
So, I signed her up and took her to her first practice.
Which I have since likened to military Live Round Training.
You get a gaggle of seven year old girls together and give them softballs and bats, someone is going to suffer.
Namely, the parents sitting on the sidelines yelling "Incoming!!" and "Whoa!!"
What is it about the female physique that necessitates the "princess throw" and the "flower child" run? Oh, and who's coaching?
Two men in their thirties.
They do have a female assistant coach to help them out when the players seem unable to comprehend statements like "You gotta hustle, girls! Gotta pull 'em together and get it done!!" because naturally little girls are thinking, "Hustle...bustle? Like a dress? Oohh, a dress!" and "What are we pulling and where? I thought we were playing softball...."
Oh and here I am trying to help Lily by practicing at home, only I didn't do any sort of sports ever so my throws don't look nice and tidy like her coaches' do: "Mom! I'm over HERE!!"
Sigh. The blind leading the blind.