So today’s the day – I’m joining Spring Operation Weight Off for Moms and the first weigh in today. I dread this. I’ve always dreaded this. I was at my lowest adult weight (125 lbs.) right before I got pregnant with Bug. Well – let’s do it!
My current weight: 171
My goal weight: 130
Monday Weigh In March 31, 2008
It’s Never Ending March 29, 2008
Okay so I know wanting a clutter free home when we run two businesses out of the home, and with 2 kids, all the toys and baby stuff and four of us basically living on one floor of our house is an impossible and improbable dream. But is it too much to ask for to clean one room – just one room and have it stay clean for even an hour! I cleaned the living room yesterday with Bug – all that was left to do was take a box of toys and put them away in his room, only to have him say “Great, now I can play with my new Hot Wheels!” So now, needless to say, there are Hot Wheels all over the living room floor.
And what’s the deal with everyone – um, Bug and the Husband, taking their shoes and socks off in the living room besides the stench, do they really think those things will just get up and walk themselves to the laundry hamper and closet? It must be a guy thing.
I asked Bug this morning “Where is it written that I’m the maid and have to pick everything after you?” “On your forehead.” Do I have a wise-ass for a 6 year old, or what? I stared at him one, in utter amazement that he thinks that, and two, that he had the gall to actually say that to me? The stare must have worked because he suddenly had this look of terror in his eyes, and he immediately got up from what he was doing and picked up his shoes and backpack like I’d been telling him to for 15 minutes. And some of the cars got put away and even some of the groceries got magically put away. And even the Husband started chipping in and picking up. So the moral of the story is Mom has to get near erupting like Mount St. Helens for the anyone to start helping out.
It’s Never Ending March 29, 2008
Okay so I know wanting a clutter free home when we run two businesses out of the home, and with 2 kids, all the toys and baby stuff and four of us basically living on one floor of our house is an impossible and improbable dream. But is it too much to ask for to clean one room – just one room and have it stay clean for even an hour! I cleaned the living room yesterday with Bug – all that was left to do was take a box of toys and put them away in his room, only to have him say “Great, now I can play with my new Hot Wheels!” So now, needless to say, there are Hot Wheels all over the living room floor.
And what’s the deal with everyone – um, Bug and the Husband, taking their shoes and socks off in the living room besides the stench, do they really think those things will just get up and walk themselves to the laundry hamper and closet? It must be a guy thing.
I asked Bug this morning “Where is it written that I’m the maid and have to pick everything after you?” “On your forehead.” Do I have a wise-ass for a 6 year old, or what? I stared at him one, in utter amazement that he thinks that, and two, that he had the gall to actually say that to me? The stare must have worked because he suddenly had this look of terror in his eyes, and he immediately got up from what he was doing and picked up his shoes and backpack like I’d been telling him to for 15 minutes. And some of the cars got put away and even some of the groceries got magically put away. And even the Husband started chipping in and picking up. So the moral of the story is Mom has to get near erupting like Mount St. Helens for the anyone to start helping out.
My Love / Hate Relationship with March March 23, 2008
Part of me loves this time of year – the change from winter to spring. The tulips and daffodils sprouting up from their winter rest. The blue jays and robins singing their songs. The freshness in the air. Everyone gets re-motivated to start new projects. Everything/everyone seems to have a new energy about it.
But on the flip side – there’s the rain. The chilly kind that hurts your bones. If you’ve ever had a break or injury you know what I mean. And the mud. Bug is a mud magnet. If there’s mud outside he’ll find it. He found it the other day before changing out of his school uniform, and not only did his shoes find it, but his legs, butt, hands and face. UUGGHH! And then there’s my fffaaavvvooorrriiittteee – March Madness. Are you a March Madness widow? I am. I’m lucky if I get a “Hi, hon, I’m home” before he turns on ESPN, and checks his brackets. He used to much worse – he wouldn’t even eat dinner at the table. Before we had kids, I just gave in and we ate in the living room so he could watch the games. But now, I make him sit at the table with us. Sure – he basically swallows his food whole, but he’s at the table. At least until we get down to the Final Four. That’s when not even it being Easter, or Bug’s birthday or even his birthday, or an act of God would get him to move away from the TV. But I guess it’s only, what, three weeks out of the year.
My Love / Hate Relationship with March March 23, 2008
Part of me loves this time of year – the change from winter to spring. The tulips and daffodils sprouting up from their winter rest. The blue jays and robins singing their songs. The freshness in the air. Everyone gets re-motivated to start new projects. Everything/everyone seems to have a new energy about it.
But on the flip side – there’s the rain. The chilly kind that hurts your bones. If you’ve ever had a break or injury you know what I mean. And the mud. Bug is a mud magnet. If there’s mud outside he’ll find it. He found it the other day before changing out of his school uniform, and not only did his shoes find it, but his legs, butt, hands and face. UUGGHH! And then there’s my fffaaavvvooorrriiittteee – March Madness. Are you a March Madness widow? I am. I’m lucky if I get a “Hi, hon, I’m home” before he turns on ESPN, and checks his brackets. He used to much worse – he wouldn’t even eat dinner at the table. Before we had kids, I just gave in and we ate in the living room so he could watch the games. But now, I make him sit at the table with us. Sure – he basically swallows his food whole, but he’s at the table. At least until we get down to the Final Four. That’s when not even it being Easter, or Bug’s birthday or even his birthday, or an act of God would get him to move away from the TV. But I guess it’s only, what, three weeks out of the year.
Applesauce Makes It Better March 14, 2008
I remember as a little girl my mom having to give me medicine in pill form and I would inevitably throw it back up. Even baby aspirin would make me gag. But low and behold, all she had to do was crush it up and mix with a little applesauce and all was right with the world again. Now 30-someodd years later, I’m doing the same with my baby girl – not giving her medicine, of course, but just getting her to eat the variety of baby food that would make a grown adult gag. Honestly, all I have to do is disguise some pureed chicken with some applesauce and Budha will gladly eat it. Plain pureed chicken and she gags like I’m making her eat the dirt of my shoe. Oh, the miracles of applesauce!
