Madame No-Fun was conspicuously absent from the gym today - perhaps she was feeling costive (yoo-hoo, I know what causes that, lady!). It was just as well for her as I'd assembled my posse and she might have faced a beat down. And by "beat down", I mean I would cower in the corner with an upset stomach, bleating like a goat in labor while the other ladies fought my battle for me. I don't really do confrontation or conflict.
Do you know what spin class feels like? It feels like riding up hills in Hakodate, Japan, in a blizzard with your super comfortable (read: hideously ugly) corduroy dress that's caked with 27 pounds of snow and ice. Except not that cold. And they let me wear gym clothes instead of a ski jacket, seven pairs of tights, and Sorel boots. Although, seven pairs of tights might not be so bad as they might just provide some necessary padding in strategic areas.
I just found a 12-pack of Dr Pepper stashed in The Kid's toy box. That's as good a place as any, I guess.
Just another example of how I bring out the best in people:
There I was in Group Power this morning in the middle of the tricep track, with 30 pounds suspended above my head when the face of a woman I've literally never seen in my life pops in a foot above my head. She proceeds to berate me by saying that the noise I'm making (which up to that point had been four heartfelt "HEYs!") is "annoying and offensive to a whole bunch of people in the class and it needs to stop now". Uhhh....say what? I'm sorry that my enjoying myself is getting in the way of you being a belligerent churl.
PS I'm not going to lie, I was shocked (meaning I couldn't come up with a brilliant rejoinder until thirty minutes after I got home) and VERY upset (yes, i cried. A lot. I've had a crappy month) after this happened. And I also realize that my passive aggressive Facebook post does nothing to help the situation, but it makes me feel better.
I was making some outstanding progress in teaching The Tater his body parts. But that all ended the minute Husband taught him where his man parts are. Now, no matter what I ask him, he points to his crotch and yells, "THERE!" When I called Husband out on it he said, "Well, baby, he's gotta know. If there's something he's going to protect, that's it."
We, along with everyone else in our area, experienced a power outage beginning at 5am this morning. The Kid was awake at 5:30 and since that time has been wandering around the house muttering, "I don't know what I'm supposed to do when the Internet is down. How can I get any work done?"
It's cheat day! So, I drove down to the Farmer's Market for fresh (still in the pod) peas, local honey, new strawberries, and homemade whole wheat bread. Then, I came home, put it all away, and sat down with a Dr Pepper and a pile of Cadbury mini-eggs. Cheating. Everything I thought it could be.
Made both kids their favorite lunches so I could sit in the corner and hoard what remained of the beef roast from last night. Two grilled cheeses still on their plates and despite the fact that I only had two bites (by unceremoniously shoving them into my mouth) my bowl is completely empty. Assessment: FAIL.
Yesterday and today, The Kid spent quaility time playing with a 2x4. Because we know what's fun.
Every time I walk back in my house after being gone I think, "Oh, my word! We've been robbed! The house has been ransacked!" Then, I remember I have a four-year-old
Is there some sort of genetic condition that makes it impossible to keep a pillow case on a pillow? If so, The Kid has it from Husband. And don't even ask me where the empty pillow cases are because I literally have no idea.
Had a dream I went to the doctor for a stomach ache and ended up having an emergency c-section instead because I was 72 weeks pregnant. Then, while I was still delirious, they let Husband name the baby - Ahmad Amir Hussein Peters. He said we'd just call the baby "Ahh" because it sounded "catchy".
We've had new neighbors for over a month and I've not seen hide nor hair of them. I think they're vampires.
I just love being woken up for the day at 4:30freakingAM by my children. Said no mother EVER.
Husband took me to lunch today to my favorite fish taco-getting place. Unfortunately, corn tortillas are not on the "approved foods" list for Body for Life. Instead, I ordered the fish and vegetable plate. It tasted just like pescetarian sadness.
The Kid put out some small food pieces last night so she could do an ant experiment this morning. Unfortunately, The Tater found the food before the ants did.
A few things: 1. Everytime I walk in to the gym, I can't help but think about how ridiculous exercising on purpose would look to people 200 years ago. 2. I have recently found that one pair of my workout pants is almost completely see-through. Unfortunately, I don't know which ones they are until I get to the gym. You are welcome, everyone behind me! 3. I've said it before and I'll say it again - Satan invented core workouts.
I just love it when my four-year-old gives me permission to use MY OWN stuff. So magnanimous, that one.
One full week of healthy eating, following ALL of the rules like a Nazi (six small meals, complex carbs, lots of vegetables, no sugar, no white flour, no sodas), increasing the intensity of my workouts and I'm seeing amazing results - I've gained two pounds. Called Husband to complain (it was his bloody idea, after all) and his advice was, "Baby, drink a Dr Pepper and calm down."
When you add a handful of spinach to a chocolate shake, it comes out looking like throw up. Just so you know.
That kid whose wails could be heard echoing through the halls after church? She's mine. Because naturally, she'd tied herself to her chair with her dress strings.
There was a man at the salad bar just now and as I stepped up beside him, I found that he too was singing along to the oldies Brittany Spears on the speakers! I'm getting his number before we leave because we are OBVIOUSLY kindred spirits!
Thought I had enough will power to pack my own lunch and bring the kids to Chick-Fil-A to play. But I'm sorry, the healthy burrito I packed myself is stupid and their chicken is practically yelling, "EAT ME NOW!" It's like putting a crack addict in a crack house. Worst. Idea. Ever.
Dear Beaumont PD,
Is there a contest to see who can pull me over for the most ridiculous reason? Because if that's the case, the dude who pulled me over just now wins hands down. No, my plates do not belong to a 1985 Honda. No, I did not steal them. No, I didnt attempt to fake the plate number on my windshield. As you can see here, I have the paperwork that proves it. And your computer is telling you that I'm telling the truth. So why did you keep me on the side of the road for 45 minutes (with a screaming baby in the back seat) in an attempt to explain to me why that kind of lying is a very, very bad thing?!
FOR THE LOVE.
A protein shake that tastes like a pina colada? Don't mind if I do. Oh, and PS to all the people in my weights class today, when I loudly sing "Talk Dirty to Me", I'm not actually singing to/for you. I'm singing to my weights.
Looking forward to watching The Pride of Sheboygan against Duke this evening for two reasons: Every time the announcers say "Sheboygan", it makes me laugh like a loon and also because it is my main goal in life to be named, "The Pride of Ruby Valley". It's unclear what I'll have to do to claim this illustrious title.
The Kid has been looking for her Easter basket since she woke up three hours ago. Hint: there isn't one. I keep trying to tell her that but she's sure the Easter Bunny is just late. Hint: he's not late.
That magical time of year has arrived: where no matter how hard I work out or how much deodorant I slather on, I come out of the gym smelling like an unwashed hippie. It. Is. Awesome.
I can't help but feel bad for The Kid. Every time she manages to make a friend, they up and move. She's been moping around the house all day because her latest friend left yesterday. She keeps mournfully repeating, "We sure did have some good times together."
Dear Mom,
I would just like to apologize for every, single time I shouted "Mooooooooom!" at the top of my lungs when I really didn't need anything. And also for every time I said, "Mom, she's touching me!" I'm so sorry. So incredibly sorry. So incredibly, unbelievably sorry. It's true what they say about that karma stuff.
Your Loving Daughter
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