It's no secret that my guilty pleasure is watching Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders: Making the Team. This past episode, the girls were doing uniform fittings when they found that one girl was "underweight" and insisted she gain four pounds. She said she didn't know how. Girl, please. Come over to my house, we'll whip out the Doritos, cupcakes, and Dr. Pepper and knock it out in a single weekend.
One week of kindergarten under our belts and an ice cream date because she was "good at least half the time".
Pecan cinnamon rolls just waiting for frosting. Because it's what Paula Deen would have me do. #buttersugarflourjoy #pauladeenisthedevilonmyshoulder#auntsandysfrenchbread
Man at the gym: I'm sorry to interrupt your workout, but you're dancing to the beat of the song I'm listening to. You're probaby too young to know it. Can't Touch This by MC Hammer.
Me: Happens I'm not too young and I love that song!
Man: There's no way! You look like you're in college! It's nice to meet a fellow music connoisseur.
Me: Happens I'm not too young and I love that song!
Man: There's no way! You look like you're in college! It's nice to meet a fellow music connoisseur.
*I'm working out right next to this guy every day for the rest of my life. And putting that song on my iPod immediately.
You know, I used to be a straight up morning person. But this morning, as I was draaaaaaging myself to the gym, 6 am seemed like the middle of the night (PS If there's going to be a time change, it should ALWAYS change so it's light early in the morning. ALWAYS). What happened to me?!
My Main Gym Man says sweating like I do is the right way to sweat and that people who don't sweat like me need to have their glands checked because they are obviously defective. Amen! Again, give that man a raise! #selfesteembooster #sweatlikeaman #ilovecedric#IMayNotBeSkinnyButDidYouSeeMyAmazingGlands
When you're getting dressed for the gym and you feel rather shabby. Then, you look down and realize that the newest piece of clothing you're wearing is twelve years old (with the majority being fifteen years or older). Unfortunately, all of it fits quite a bit more snuggly than it did back then.
That one time when you go to training and it takes you five hours to realize that you have a rather large and obvious hole in the crotch of your pants.
Well. The Kid made it exactly 16 minutes in her new classroom before her first trip to the nurse's office. When I went to pick her up she said, "Is school over already? I thought they said I could come back as soon as they cleaned the throw up off my chair." Good things: 1. I didn't have to clean up the puke. 2. I can use today's packed lunch tomorrow. 3.I don't think she's actually sick. #parentingwin #motheroftheyear #idontdopuke
Despite all of my best efforts to keep her little, today, this is happening. Her daddy is handling the drop off because I just don't think I can. Beside a nervous throw up episode (her, not me and, thankfully, didn't get on her clothes), it went well! And thus we join the kajillions of back-to-school photo posters!
I was having the best dream EVER this morning (on a cruise with Husband where I looked quite fetching in my swimming suit and I had this long, gorgeous, thick hair) when I feel a hand on my arm and The Kid screeching, "I was trying to make pizza for breakfast, but I put it in for 300 instead of 30 and now I need you to fix it." Talk about a reality check.
It was a long, hard week. And Husband gets 10 million bonus points for bringing flowers at the end of it.
Every Saturday I find it necessary to cover myself in coconut oil. And, since The Tater is my constant companion, he insists that he be included. Today, I finished his back, he rolled over, looked at me and said, "AGAIN!" That happened three more times. I believe we may have a glutton on our hands. Just like his mother.
For the second time in less than a week I've been approached by random gym people and told, "For a girl your size, you move really well!"
I can't decide if it's a compliment or an insult. And PS what is it about me that makes people think they can say whatever they want?
T-minus 14 days until the most wonderful time of the year! COLLEGE FOOTBALL SEASON! The schedule in the Peters' household is being set, menus are being planned, and we are imploring the football gods for a BYU win against Nebraska. Texas A&M is going to have to beat Arizona State all on their own...because the football gods can only concentrate on the most important games.
Today is one of those days where I feel like the only things that have come out of my mouth are, "NO!", "STOP IT!", "GET OFF OF THAT!", "YOU'RE NOT LISTENING!", "I'VE ALREADY TOLD YOU FIVE TIMES!"
A few questions: #1 When is it that life gets easier? #2 Do all five-year-olds not listen or is it just mine? #3 Does anyone locally have a connection with home health administration?
School shopping and cake with my best girl. The good news is that school supplies only cost $987 with all my best coupons.
The Kid: Isn't it time for you to get dressed for the gym?
Me: Yeah, but I don't think I'm going today.
The Kid: You have to! I want to see my friends! And you have to get fit! You deserve to be fit, mama.
Me: Yeah, but I don't think I'm going today.
The Kid: You have to! I want to see my friends! And you have to get fit! You deserve to be fit, mama.
The Kid has just finished penning her Christmas list and her first letter to Santa. She says, "Well, Santa can't just guess what I want, can he." Because she's still British. And we wouldn't want Santa to not know stuff.
Before quiet time today, I tols The Kid she could have banana bread from the already-torn-up loaf but to PLEASE not touch the other one since we have to take it to a church activity tomorrow. She listens so well. #youhadonejob#planb #shesaidshedidnthearme
Does anyone have something that scares the living daylights out of you that everyone else does like it's no big deal and if they knew how much it freaked you out, they'd think you were a total weirdo? Today I actually put on my big girl panties and did one of those. Other than profuse sweating, a severe increase in blood pressure, and a headache, I appear to be none-the-worse for wear. BAM.
The DHL man, a self-proclaimed "leg man" just stopped by to compliment my calves (apparently he likes his ladies "juicy"). Well...thank you! And I dig your beard and giant diamond crusted skull ring, sir. Classy.
More great zombie apocalypse news: I found out today that I can run 9.2 miles per hour for exactly one minute seven seconds. At 1:08, my lungs will explode. This is also on flat ground at sea level. So, zombies, please make sure you play fair when chasing me (fair = meet all of the above criteria).
You know, I really am a sprinter at heart. There's nothing better than cranking the speed up as fast as you can go at the end of your workout and running like zombies are chasing you. When the apocalypse comes, don't expect me to stop to help you, either. It's every man for himself, sucks.
That time during your workout that you were so intent on not hurting yourself or dying that it took 30 minutes to realize you've been listening to Frozen's Let It Go on repeat the entire time.
The Tater is currently napping in full swim gear - including a life jacket. Because today, I can only fight the most important battles. And this is not one of them.
I'm pretty sure the only thing keeping me from being a Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader is my inability to execute a hair flip without falling over. Other than that, I'm a total shoo-in. PS I'm pretty sure I bruised my liver at the gym yesterday. That's possible, right?
Number of days it took The Kid to realize her fish died = eight. We are now on full-blown melt-down mode, "I'll never see him again! Tell me where you buried him and I will take him away!"
Dear Kissy-Kissy Couple at the Gym,
Look, I get it. You're in a new and exciting relationship (I mean, you have to be, right? Because that's the only time you really want to make out with another super sweaty human being). You want to be close. You want to shove your tongues down one another's throat in public. I totally respect that. However, if you've got enough energy to make out at the gym, that's a clear indication that you're not working out hard enough. Add 25 pounds on that bar to release some of that unrequited ardor. Drop and do 50 pushups to resist the urge to explore one another's molars/tonsils/esophageal sphincter. I say this not because your PDA is making me super uncomfortable (even though it is - call me a prude, but I thought the straddling and light petting were a little excessive. We're not in France), but because I am interested in seeing you reach your peak fitness level.
Your Friend,
Erin
PS You know you're right in front of the mirrors, right? And that means EVERYONE can see you.
"Oooooo, girl, I like dem calves!" = best gym welcome EVER. That man deserves a raise!
Moment of truth: I've always hated cooked green peas. Husband prepared them his "special" way today in hopes of revising my opinion. Mission accomplished.
Working out in the free-weight section of the gym on a Saturday? An ENTIRELY different animal. These guys are not messing around. I would have felt like a fool but I was wearing pink shorts, so....
PS If you haven't tried the S'more Quest bar, you should. It tastes just like chocolate chip cookie dough.`
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