As I was sitting with my new little Primary class this Sunday (five sweet and funny seven-year-old boys who I already adore) in Sharing Time, talking about Memorial Day and learning facts about America, a child behind me was talking about their Grandpa being in "the war," and my mind wandered to my own Grandpa, even though he was never in a war. Then, it was weird because when I got home from church, I saw that my brother had posted a line from Ray Steven's The Streak on my Facebook wall, around the same time I would have been sitting in Sharing Time thinking about my Grandpa. The Streak (among other Ray Stevens' songs) was something my Grandpa introduced me and my brothers to when we were little, a song we found deliciously irreverent and scandalous. One of the things I thought about as I sat there on Sunday was that it was my Grandpa who gave me my first cassette tape. It was when I was 3 or 4 years old--Waylon Jennings' Greatest Hits, which included some songs with Willie Nelson as well. I would lie on my parents' water-bed and listen to my tape on their silver tape deck/alarm clock/radio. Perhaps this was the seed which planted my intense love for music. My favorite song was Ramblin' Man; I remember trying to sing it with so much soul and gusto, it hurt my throat.
I am so playing this in my spin class on Wednesday. That driving beat is just asking to be climbed to. And then with the crescendo, we're going to surge. We're going to sweat to Waylon Jennings and it's going to be awesome. I might get some raised eyebrows at first but they're going to love it by the end. I so enjoy finding an unexpected but fantastic spin song.
I love my Grandpa, for who he is and for sharing so many great things with me.
And this is one of them. Happy Memorial Day.
And here's The Streak. This one goes out to him, along with the Garlock Boys.
Monday, May 31, 2010
Friday, May 28, 2010
"Houston, We Have a Clavicle" and Other Random Facts
-Yes, you heard it right here. I indeed have a clavicle. To be more precise, I have two. I thought I had lost them but I've found them again. I didn't know I was holding so much weight in my neck and shoulders. Sick. I've continued to lose weight (as of today, down 10 pounds and collectively, several inches around my waist and hips.) and have felt really, really good. Thank you, thank you Kristi Approved. I send you virtual hugs, kisses, high fives, firm handshakes, zurberts, nose honks, hair ruffles, go-get-em bum slaps, and maybe a goose or two. You should try their free seven-day challenge if you need to shed a few.
-Last night both of my brothers called me out of the blue. I just adore those boys. They are my people. We may live far away from each other and lead very different lives but when I hear their voices, I'm home.
-How good is The Bird and the Bee's cover of Hall & Oates' I Can't Go For That? Holy poo.
-We went strawberry picking as a family a couple of days ago. Pictures from that will be posted when I'm not so lazy and should be in the kitchen putting away at least frozen groceries which are thawing on my kitchen floor.
-Last night both of my brothers called me out of the blue. I just adore those boys. They are my people. We may live far away from each other and lead very different lives but when I hear their voices, I'm home.
-How good is The Bird and the Bee's cover of Hall & Oates' I Can't Go For That? Holy poo.
-We went strawberry picking as a family a couple of days ago. Pictures from that will be posted when I'm not so lazy and should be in the kitchen putting away at least frozen groceries which are thawing on my kitchen floor.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
They Don't Need No Stinking Toys
Due to the Reynolds Girls Stuff Banishment of 2010, Ruby and May have found other ways to spend their time, such as:
Playing a game I don't understand with the refrigerator magnets which involves a list as long as the river Nile of strict rules that absolutely must be solemnly adhered to.
Pretending Olive is their puppy, which Olive hates.
Teaching each other yoga, with very unique positions that are presented in iambic pentameter:
"Now you kneel on your mat.
Be sure your back is nice and flat.
This is the mountain hog pose
Now stand up and touch your toes."
Playing a game I don't understand with the refrigerator magnets which involves a list as long as the river Nile of strict rules that absolutely must be solemnly adhered to.
Pretending Olive is their puppy, which Olive hates.
Teaching each other yoga, with very unique positions that are presented in iambic pentameter:
"Now you kneel on your mat.
Be sure your back is nice and flat.
This is the mountain hog pose
Now stand up and touch your toes."
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Ruby's Recent Composition
Let's not leave Ruby out today.
Here is a funny thing she wrote at school and brought home.
"When I grow old I will be a grandma. My kids will have babies. Her and him's kids will be my grandchildren but now I have two sisters no brothers. My two sisters are named May and Olive. Olive is one and May is four. I am seven. I mean almost seven."
Here is a funny thing she wrote at school and brought home.
"When I grow old I will be a grandma. My kids will have babies. Her and him's kids will be my grandchildren but now I have two sisters no brothers. My two sisters are named May and Olive. Olive is one and May is four. I am seven. I mean almost seven."
Next
I have a few projects to finish up (some Family Tree illustrations, some Etsy orders, the book the girls and I started from last summer, my art room which looks like it was burglarized) but after that, this:
A Euro pillow made from this top I embroidered like a year ago of the alphabet. Embroidering, how I love you. Dramatic sigh.
It will be backed and trimmed with piping made on the bias (is there any other way of making piping other than the bias? I do not know. But I felt it needed to be said. These stripes will be slanted, ya'll!) out of this ticking stripe.
I was too lazy to get out my camera, upload the photos blahblahblah just for this measly post so as you can probably tell, all of these pics were taken with Photobooth.
So we had ourselves a little session.
A Euro pillow made from this top I embroidered like a year ago of the alphabet. Embroidering, how I love you. Dramatic sigh.
It will be backed and trimmed with piping made on the bias (is there any other way of making piping other than the bias? I do not know. But I felt it needed to be said. These stripes will be slanted, ya'll!) out of this ticking stripe.
I was too lazy to get out my camera, upload the photos blahblahblah just for this measly post so as you can probably tell, all of these pics were taken with Photobooth.
So we had ourselves a little session.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
GAH.
Just for kicks and giggles, I decided to see what a countdown would look like set for the end of Go's residency.
I wouldn't recommend any of my resident friends doing this, especially if you are on a strict diet for it made me want to drown my sorrows in a piping hot pan of brownies.
The countdown looked something like this:
Well, that was depressing.
I wouldn't recommend any of my resident friends doing this, especially if you are on a strict diet for it made me want to drown my sorrows in a piping hot pan of brownies.
The countdown looked something like this:
| 767 | | days |
| 18,424 | | hours |
| 1,105,471 | | minutes |
| 66,328,309 | | seconds |
Well, that was depressing.
Monday, May 24, 2010
1000th Post: Operation Tidy Kids
For my 1000th post, I thought I'd do something I normally wouldn't do: Air some dirty laundry. Yay! Scandal!
I am not a naturally neat and tidy person. My brain is a chaotic mess, therefore, that is what springs forth out of me--a chaotic mess. Simply put, as a generalization, we know that left-brained people are nice and neat and right-brained people are a hot mess. I blame my natural untidiness on ADD and the fact that the right side of my brain is like Andre the Giant and my left is like Nacho Libre's wimpy sidekick Esquelito (partially because he is a weakling and partially because he believes in science.) My brain really likes wrestling, apparently.
That being said, over the past 10 years, I've made major strides in this area and I'm proud of that. It's been really really hard and something I struggle with on a daily basis. It sounds lame, but it goes against every grain in my body to put something away right after I've used it. Why? Because I'm already using something else and have forgotten about the first thing I was doing. You slow down, you die. So I'm constantly making conscious efforts to look around me and pick up my trail of bread crumbs. At lengths of time, I do a great job. And other times, it's tiring and I'm back to my old ways.
All this wouldn't be an issue if I hadn't married some who teeters on the edge of OCD. I won't go into specifics but Go is uber neat and precise and everything he does is done with surgical precision. Trust me, if you ever need some sort of plastic surgery, you want him to be the one sewing you up.
So, like I said, sometimes I go great stretches of time where everything is kept clean and I keep on top of things and the girls and their messes without a problem. But lately, I've fallen off of the tidy wagon. And because of this, so have my kids. Their room, the basement where they keep all of their toys, their art cabinet, the bathroom after they've spent all of 30 seconds in it, are left looking like ground zero until I go in and have them clean these places. The response I get 95% of the time is the five stages of grief with tears, howling, writhing, flailing, wailing and gnashing of teeth thrown in. It's ridiculous and has only gotten worse and because of this our home lately has spun out of control. This has caused some...friction...even though Go tries to be extra tolerant of me and my messy episodes and does his best to help the girls be neat. I'm pretty sure he believes he deserves a shiny platinum medal for his tolerance. But the tolerance has run out. The girls negative responses to our simple requests to clean their messes and my poor example of cleanliness have gone on long enough, apparently.
It all came to a head last night after our house had been messy for several weeks--the girls messes especially. He had talked with me several times and asked what I was doing during the day to help teach them clean up better or help change their outlook on cleanliness but I didn't have any real answers for him. So in order to have a happier home, he took it upon himself and implemented a plan.
All of the art supplies, all of the toys, save for some paper, a box of crayons each, their books and a selection of 5 toys each will be locked in the basement closet. As they are able to keep these small selection of toys/art supplies cleaned up each day, they will slowly earn back their toys and art supplies.
As he presented this plan to us, I felt side swiped. We hadn't discussed this. I imagined 2 bored, hence, bickering girls on my hands all summer long.
And without an abundance of art supplies. The nerve.
I was livid.
I've cooled off some, but I'm still sort of mad. I've never been mad at him for more than maybe 30 minutes. We're going on about 24 hours now. We're on the downward slope, though.
So today, because I respect and support my husband (said through clenched teeth) and the honest desire to have a happier and cleaner home, I followed his plan: put everything in the closet, threw away a bunch of stuff and had the girls make their selections.
Even though I feel like this isn't my campaign, pairing down and simplifying felt good. And our house is currently totally void of any of the girls' messes. Because of this, I haven't had to deal with any cleanliness melt-downs from anyone.
Um, you know what?
As much as I hate to admit it, I think this might work. The guy might be a freaking genius.
I am not a naturally neat and tidy person. My brain is a chaotic mess, therefore, that is what springs forth out of me--a chaotic mess. Simply put, as a generalization, we know that left-brained people are nice and neat and right-brained people are a hot mess. I blame my natural untidiness on ADD and the fact that the right side of my brain is like Andre the Giant and my left is like Nacho Libre's wimpy sidekick Esquelito (partially because he is a weakling and partially because he believes in science.) My brain really likes wrestling, apparently.
That being said, over the past 10 years, I've made major strides in this area and I'm proud of that. It's been really really hard and something I struggle with on a daily basis. It sounds lame, but it goes against every grain in my body to put something away right after I've used it. Why? Because I'm already using something else and have forgotten about the first thing I was doing. You slow down, you die. So I'm constantly making conscious efforts to look around me and pick up my trail of bread crumbs. At lengths of time, I do a great job. And other times, it's tiring and I'm back to my old ways.
All this wouldn't be an issue if I hadn't married some who teeters on the edge of OCD. I won't go into specifics but Go is uber neat and precise and everything he does is done with surgical precision. Trust me, if you ever need some sort of plastic surgery, you want him to be the one sewing you up.
So, like I said, sometimes I go great stretches of time where everything is kept clean and I keep on top of things and the girls and their messes without a problem. But lately, I've fallen off of the tidy wagon. And because of this, so have my kids. Their room, the basement where they keep all of their toys, their art cabinet, the bathroom after they've spent all of 30 seconds in it, are left looking like ground zero until I go in and have them clean these places. The response I get 95% of the time is the five stages of grief with tears, howling, writhing, flailing, wailing and gnashing of teeth thrown in. It's ridiculous and has only gotten worse and because of this our home lately has spun out of control. This has caused some...friction...even though Go tries to be extra tolerant of me and my messy episodes and does his best to help the girls be neat. I'm pretty sure he believes he deserves a shiny platinum medal for his tolerance. But the tolerance has run out. The girls negative responses to our simple requests to clean their messes and my poor example of cleanliness have gone on long enough, apparently.
It all came to a head last night after our house had been messy for several weeks--the girls messes especially. He had talked with me several times and asked what I was doing during the day to help teach them clean up better or help change their outlook on cleanliness but I didn't have any real answers for him. So in order to have a happier home, he took it upon himself and implemented a plan.
All of the art supplies, all of the toys, save for some paper, a box of crayons each, their books and a selection of 5 toys each will be locked in the basement closet. As they are able to keep these small selection of toys/art supplies cleaned up each day, they will slowly earn back their toys and art supplies.
As he presented this plan to us, I felt side swiped. We hadn't discussed this. I imagined 2 bored, hence, bickering girls on my hands all summer long.
And without an abundance of art supplies. The nerve.
I was livid.
I've cooled off some, but I'm still sort of mad. I've never been mad at him for more than maybe 30 minutes. We're going on about 24 hours now. We're on the downward slope, though.
So today, because I respect and support my husband (said through clenched teeth) and the honest desire to have a happier and cleaner home, I followed his plan: put everything in the closet, threw away a bunch of stuff and had the girls make their selections.
Even though I feel like this isn't my campaign, pairing down and simplifying felt good. And our house is currently totally void of any of the girls' messes. Because of this, I haven't had to deal with any cleanliness melt-downs from anyone.
Um, you know what?
As much as I hate to admit it, I think this might work. The guy might be a freaking genius.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
I am sitting in a park in Kensington, Maryland. In the next picinic
table over from me sits a guy I think I know. I think he was friends
with one of my guy friends from college or maybe a room mate. My
inital reaction to seeing him is to say "Hey, did you go to BYU? You
lived in Budge Hall, didn't you? Or was it May Hall?" and then the
"So that means you were friends with Doodleydoo McGum or TickyTacky
Tumbo or GobbleyGook Sparklebuns." and then there'd be a spark of
recognition with the name GobbleyGook Sparklebuns and then he'd
remember me and some random group date we had both been on and he'd be
like "Oh yah--you were the girl who got stuck in the Nutty Putty
caves. Didn't it take 3 tubs of margarine to get you out?" and I
would say he must be mistaken. Did he think I said GoobleuGook
Sparklebuns? I said SpicyGumbo ShinyHiney. And what are these Nutty
Putty Caves he speaks of? No speaka da English. But he insists. "No.
It was you. I remember. You had, like, really long hair, didn't
you?" And that is why I will stay here at my picinc table and mind my
own business. That and he keeps calling to his son over and over and I
just realized I hate the name Keirnan. Or Keernan. Or Keyrnen. Or
Kqueirnin.
table over from me sits a guy I think I know. I think he was friends
with one of my guy friends from college or maybe a room mate. My
inital reaction to seeing him is to say "Hey, did you go to BYU? You
lived in Budge Hall, didn't you? Or was it May Hall?" and then the
"So that means you were friends with Doodleydoo McGum or TickyTacky
Tumbo or GobbleyGook Sparklebuns." and then there'd be a spark of
recognition with the name GobbleyGook Sparklebuns and then he'd
remember me and some random group date we had both been on and he'd be
like "Oh yah--you were the girl who got stuck in the Nutty Putty
caves. Didn't it take 3 tubs of margarine to get you out?" and I
would say he must be mistaken. Did he think I said GoobleuGook
Sparklebuns? I said SpicyGumbo ShinyHiney. And what are these Nutty
Putty Caves he speaks of? No speaka da English. But he insists. "No.
It was you. I remember. You had, like, really long hair, didn't
you?" And that is why I will stay here at my picinc table and mind my
own business. That and he keeps calling to his son over and over and I
just realized I hate the name Keirnan. Or Keernan. Or Keyrnen. Or
Kqueirnin.
Sent from my iPhone
Friday, May 21, 2010
Choose Your Own Adventure: The Self Breast Examination Exhibit
It's been awhile since my last Choose Your Own Adventure post. Shall we?
You are at the science museum as a chaperone with your daughter's first grade class. Your daughter's substitute teacher who is a tall, young, good looking man walks over to you and your group of students you're tending to. He starts to speak to you, something business-related, pertaining to a change in the time line of the field trip. While he speaks, he absent-mindedly reaches down to an exhibit you happen to be standing next to but have yet to explore. Hanging from a white box is a grapefruit sized sack filled with rice. He takes the sack in his hand and starts to squeeze it and shmooshes it around with his fingers. Interrupting him, your daughter points to the sack he is handling and asks loudly "Mom, what's that?" Both you and the substitute teacher look up at the sign and read aloud at the exact same time: "SELF BREAST EXAMINATION EXHIBIT." Your daughter then points to the sack that is now hanging lifeless in the man's hand and says "When Mr. ____ is done, can I have a turn?"
Choose your own adventure. Do you:
a. Bite your lip and stifle laughter.
b. Say something wildly inappropriate like "It's ok. Her Dad's a plastic surgeon. We're all about the boobies at our house."
c. Once the guy drops the fake breast, you reach over and give it a squeeze.
d. An awkward and weird mixture of a, b and c.
You are at the science museum as a chaperone with your daughter's first grade class. Your daughter's substitute teacher who is a tall, young, good looking man walks over to you and your group of students you're tending to. He starts to speak to you, something business-related, pertaining to a change in the time line of the field trip. While he speaks, he absent-mindedly reaches down to an exhibit you happen to be standing next to but have yet to explore. Hanging from a white box is a grapefruit sized sack filled with rice. He takes the sack in his hand and starts to squeeze it and shmooshes it around with his fingers. Interrupting him, your daughter points to the sack he is handling and asks loudly "Mom, what's that?" Both you and the substitute teacher look up at the sign and read aloud at the exact same time: "SELF BREAST EXAMINATION EXHIBIT." Your daughter then points to the sack that is now hanging lifeless in the man's hand and says "When Mr. ____ is done, can I have a turn?"
Choose your own adventure. Do you:
a. Bite your lip and stifle laughter.
b. Say something wildly inappropriate like "It's ok. Her Dad's a plastic surgeon. We're all about the boobies at our house."
c. Once the guy drops the fake breast, you reach over and give it a squeeze.
d. An awkward and weird mixture of a, b and c.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Olive Looks Like Her Papa Tommy
This is my Dad with his three older siblings.
He was around the same age that Olive is now--
their resemblance freaks me out on a regular basis.
Also,
I'd like to think that my Dad is holding a package of Good & Plenty in this picture.
He was around the same age that Olive is now--
their resemblance freaks me out on a regular basis.
Also,
I'd like to think that my Dad is holding a package of Good & Plenty in this picture.
Monday, May 17, 2010
An Addendum to My Previous Post
Just in case you were under the impression that because we have a vase filled with peonies in our front room, our house must be oh, so civilized and filled with the utmost of decorum, I'll make you privy to the following conversation I just heard between my first and second eldest:
Ruby: Hey, May. Punch me the face.
May: Why?
Ruby: Because I want to see what it feels like.
May: You want me to punch hard?
Ruby: Yah. As hard as you can.
(*punch*)
Both girls: Ow!
(laughter)
Isn't this what drunk guys do to each other?
Ruby: Hey, May. Punch me the face.
May: Why?
Ruby: Because I want to see what it feels like.
May: You want me to punch hard?
Ruby: Yah. As hard as you can.
(*punch*)
Both girls: Ow!
(laughter)
Isn't this what drunk guys do to each other?
Friday, May 14, 2010
Cute class
took this with my phone. How cute are they?
Also, I just THE most random memory. It was during the first week of
school my freshman year at BYU. Our dorm floor had a little meet and
greet in one of the basement rooms. Our RA had us sit in a circle and
everyone was to go around and say their name, where they were from and
one interesting thing about themselves. I said I was Annie Garlock
from Irvine, California and I liked grape popcicles. Seriously, was
that the best I could do? Lame.
Friday Photo: Show-and-Tell Sisters
Ruby was the "star" in her classroom this week and got to bring in something for show-and-tell every day.
Monday: her microscope
Tuesday: her button collection
Wednesday: her ruby necklace
Thursday: a wild peacock feather
Today: her sisters
And get a load of my peony bushes.
Monday: her microscope
Tuesday: her button collection
Wednesday: her ruby necklace
Thursday: a wild peacock feather
Today: her sisters
And get a load of my peony bushes.
I love them.
You Had Me at Vespa
Don't worry, Mom. Your Friday picture is coming.
But first!
Watch soon for items like this one in the shop:
My illustrations, ready to be emailed to you in high resolution digital format,
for to you print and use as you wish!
Yowzas.
and this little image also fits into the alphabet series that I plan on plugging along with.
Collect all 26!
Ha!
My illustrations, ready to be emailed to you in high resolution digital format,
for to you print and use as you wish!
Yowzas.
and this little image also fits into the alphabet series that I plan on plugging along with.Collect all 26!
Ha!
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
There ARE Some Good Things About Pennsylvania
Peonies grow genius here.
There are 50+ more in my yard about to pop.
Eat your hearts out, my dry and dusty people of the desert.
There are 50+ more in my yard about to pop.
Eat your hearts out, my dry and dusty people of the desert.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Today: The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly
The Good:
I lost 5 1/2 pounds last week. And that was while I was on my period, when I retain water like Sponge Bob Square Pants. (Gross! She just said "period!"...and "Sponge Bob Square Pants!") So far I'm loving this Kristi Approved Program--it's the first diet I've been on where I'm not hungry and I don't feel deprived and am loving the resistance training. Click here to read more about it if you're interested. Let me know if you want to do it with me, I'll set you up with great ladies at Kristi Approved. Oh, and my before pictures? I won't be posting those bad boys until I have something better to put next to it side by side. Especially "the back" view picture. Holy crap.
The Bad:
Olive is teething and was up a lot last night--I got about 4 hours of sleep. When I'm tired, I get clumsy. I was running out the door today to take Ruby to school after she was just seconds from missing the bus. Blast! I was going to go to the gym to teach my class straight from taking her to school. I had my blueberry protein shake in one hand and was putting Olive in her car seat with the other and ended up dumping my shake, sending it EVERY WHERE. My car (which, yay!, has very absorbent fabric upholstery) Olive's car seat, Olive and myself looked liked an Oompa Loompa just poked the bloated Violet Beauregarde with a pin. I didn't want to be late for my class so I took care of myself and Olive but left most of the mess to clean up afterward, which took over two hours out of my day scrubbing that purple gunk out.
The Ugly:
So I wipe Olive and myself off, change Olive's clothes, get to the gym and am dropping off the girls at the child care when a cute little girl runs up and points at me, shrieking "Ew! You're all mole-y!" I smile and say "It looks that way, huh? I actually splattered blueberry shake all over myself a couple of minutes ago." But then I looked down and realized that I had, in fact, done a really good job cleaning myself off and yes, ew!, I am just really mole-y.
I lost 5 1/2 pounds last week. And that was while I was on my period, when I retain water like Sponge Bob Square Pants. (Gross! She just said "period!"...and "Sponge Bob Square Pants!") So far I'm loving this Kristi Approved Program--it's the first diet I've been on where I'm not hungry and I don't feel deprived and am loving the resistance training. Click here to read more about it if you're interested. Let me know if you want to do it with me, I'll set you up with great ladies at Kristi Approved. Oh, and my before pictures? I won't be posting those bad boys until I have something better to put next to it side by side. Especially "the back" view picture. Holy crap.
The Bad:
Olive is teething and was up a lot last night--I got about 4 hours of sleep. When I'm tired, I get clumsy. I was running out the door today to take Ruby to school after she was just seconds from missing the bus. Blast! I was going to go to the gym to teach my class straight from taking her to school. I had my blueberry protein shake in one hand and was putting Olive in her car seat with the other and ended up dumping my shake, sending it EVERY WHERE. My car (which, yay!, has very absorbent fabric upholstery) Olive's car seat, Olive and myself looked liked an Oompa Loompa just poked the bloated Violet Beauregarde with a pin. I didn't want to be late for my class so I took care of myself and Olive but left most of the mess to clean up afterward, which took over two hours out of my day scrubbing that purple gunk out.
The Ugly:
So I wipe Olive and myself off, change Olive's clothes, get to the gym and am dropping off the girls at the child care when a cute little girl runs up and points at me, shrieking "Ew! You're all mole-y!" I smile and say "It looks that way, huh? I actually splattered blueberry shake all over myself a couple of minutes ago." But then I looked down and realized that I had, in fact, done a really good job cleaning myself off and yes, ew!, I am just really mole-y.
Sunday, May 09, 2010
Kite Shmite
Today we flew the kite the girls gave Go for his birthday.
It was windy.
Things were going well.
It was windy.
Things were going well.
Then it got reeeeeeally windy.
And it broke.
The end.
The end.
Friday, May 07, 2010
Let's Talk About Weight, Ba-by
Do you remember this post?
My BeforeCruise/AfterCruise declaration?
Perhaps this image from it is still seared in your brain...
My BeforeCruise/AfterCruise declaration?
Perhaps this image from it is still seared in your brain...
So I started at 143 B.C. and right A.C. was 146. Gee thanks, all day buffet!
Blehck.
I let a couple of weeks go by and got back down to my BC weight.
And then I won the Kristi Approved-Live the Life program.
And I was scared.
But excited.
I've been on it for 5 days now and things are going good.
How 'bout that?
Winning the Kristi Approved program couldn't have come at a better time. A couple of days before I left on the cruise, I was getting my class set up for spin, looking in the mirror and thinking "My body has way more potential than this. I wonder what it could do if I worked really hard..." and then my class started throwing their water bottles at me and were like "Stop looking in the mirror and work us out already."
I talked with the actual Kristi on the phone and she asked what I weighed when I started. 143. What did I weigh right now? 139.5. (That's 3.5 pounds down in 5 days!) and what my goal was: 125, even though I thought I was probably pushing it. I haven't weighed 125 since my wedding when I was eating nothing but cottage cheese and pineapple, which was a big no-no. But then Kristi was like "125? How tall are you?" 5'6". She was like "Oh girl, you'll totally be able to hit 120, no problem." 120? 120!!!! The last time I weighed 120, I was singing Sir Mix- A-Lot in the back of the bus on the way to 6th grade Outdoor Ed.
I said "But I'm a solid girl. I've got big, heavy bones. I don't think I could ever hit 120," but she assured me I would be able to if I did everything she told me to do--eat the meals and do the exercises, which haven't been bad at all. I'm excited to prove her right. I'm also excited to hear Sir Mix-A-Lot and not automatically picture myself in a pair of yoga pants.
Welp, it's been 5 days now and I've never wavered from the program once--even when my nice neighbor turned evil and put a plate of piping hot chocolate cake in my hands. Before, I would have put my kids to bed, turned a violent TV show on and eaten the entire thing by myself. But I've turned a new leaf. I'm motivated. Really motivated. I'm sick of feeling less than my best. I'm sick of feeling like a "big girl." I'm sick of needing to apologize after I post pictures of myself like this on my blog.
Sorry you had to see that again.
Wednesday, May 05, 2010
Tuesday, May 04, 2010
DoomsDay Debbie
Do you ever feel like your life is floating along rather nicely, almost too quietly; that there's bound to be some sea creature lurking around, getting ready to pop up? This isn't leading into a dramatic story or a pregnancy announcement (because I know how your minds work, you sillies) or anything of the sort. It's just that things are pretty mellow around here but the cynic in me is expecting that catastrophe to slam into us any minute. Well, thaaaaat's healthy.
Saturday, May 01, 2010
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