Sunday

Gah... it's only noon and we've accomplished so much today! It's warm and sunny. I woke at 6:30 am, fixed Ethan breakfast, did some cardio while Drew watched E (ahem, watched meaning dozed on the couch, waking up periodically to mock whatever Charlie and Lola episode Ethan was watching), showered, ate breakfast and chugged some coffee, then we all went grocery shopping, where we spent exactly eighteen million dollars and one cent, then D and I each chugged a calorie-free Xience, drove home, unloaded all the groceries, put everything away, fixed E lunch, fixed ourselves lunch, and I made some banana bread that is currently baking in the oven. It's a recipe that I got off the back of a Splenda box, and I'm excited to see how it turns out. Every once in awhile I get these nutty urges to bake. I forget how much I enjoy it. Also, I love Splenda so much that if you lick me, it tastes sweet. And I'm calorie-free! Anyway, I also did some laundry and changed our sheets and everything is in order. Next we are cleaning up the yard and I will mow our huge lawn. Drew usually mows, but on Friday Drew was using a nail gun and accidentally shot a 3" nail through the bottom of his wrist. It came out the top of his wrist. He's on antibiotics and got a tetanus shot and is generally ok, but damn. It's disgusting. He said it all happened in a matter of 15 seconds:

-shot nail through wrist
-screamed like a little girl
-his boss ran to his truck to get some pliers
-his boss cut the top of the nail off
-his boss yanked the rest of the nail out
-blood sprayed like a sprinkler from both holes
-his mom rushed him to the doctor

I can't even imagine how I would have acted if that had happened to me. He was prescribed pain pills, though, so in his eyes it was well worth it. In fact, he probably shot himself on purpose so that he could stay home Saturday, pop downers and watch digital cable. Highly suspicious, eh?

Of course my last post talked about taking things for granted, so I feel strange telling you that we bought two big thick lean steaks at the store for dinner tonight, both of which are marinating in the fridge at the current mo'. We also finally caught up with the rest of the world this week and upgraded our expanded basic cable to the digital deluxe package and got a DVR. I feel very lucky to have all of these things. I do I do I do. I feel lucky to have a roof over my head and air conditioning and a car that runs and a good job and running water and my health and just everything. And I feel guilty for having 300 channels and a DVR. This DVR sort of freaks me out. It's just weird. It just seems wrong to be able to record t.v. and rewind it and fast-forward it. I kind of feel the same way about cloning. Maybe we shouldn't be doing it. Maybe we should just sit patiently and watch commercials. I want the good old days back. Anyway, when I started working we decided that we could each indulge in one luxury of our choosing. I opted for a gym membership. D opted for digital cable. Sounds like I got the sweetest end of the deal.

The very best part is that we now have FitTv, which airs workouts from my favorite video fitness guru. I am so stoked! I keep a running wish list of her dvds that I want to purchase, and now I can try before I buy. They're currently showing Push Pull, which is one of the weight workouts I've eyeing online. I know they edit things down slightly, but from what I've seen so far I think they just cut out her talking between sets and switching weights around on the barbell. I'm pretty sure the entire workout is still there. There are commercials, though, but I can fast forward through them with the creepy magic of digital video recording. (I know this is nothing new. I am probably 5 years behind on the times, technology-wise. I STILL DON'T HAVE AN IPOD.) Anyway! I'm really excited about having a handful of new workouts at my fingertips. Very nice.

I just completed 4 weeks of MIS, followed by two weeks of one day of MIS and one day of Muscle Max, making sure to use the absolute heaviest weights I could muster. Tomorrow I start 4 weeks of an upper body/lower body split, using Leaner Legs and CTX Upper Body. I'm pretty excited. I loved both workouts the first time around, and I'm anxious to see how much heavier I can go this time. If you're a chick and you're not lifting weights, START! Pick up a dumbbell already!

OK! So, I just finished mowing the lawn and it really sucked. I started getting all OCD with making a perfect square in each section of the yard and then hypnotized myself by watching it get smaller and smaller. I pushed the mower forward. I walked and pulled it backwards. Between mowing, cardio this morning, grocery shopping and putting all our goods away, and baking banana bread, I think I am quite finished with physical activity for today. Also, the banana bread turned out really yummy! It's soft, warm, and slightly sweet. If you see that recipe on the back of a Splenda box, make it. I wonder if I could have added a few scoops of whey protein powder to it? Would that have affected anything? Anyone? Sara? Kek? What has been your experience with adding protein to baked goods? We have some nanas left over and I will probably make another loaf when they start to brown... I'll add some vanilla whey and see what happens. Or would chocolate whey be better? Suggestions are welcome!

So, we've done a ton today and it's not even 2 pm. I am drinking an ice-cold Abita Purple Haze. It's my new favorite beer, along with Abita Fleur de lis. I'm not a big beer drinker anymore, but today it really hits the spot. The house is clean, there's good stuff on t.v., the lawn looks great, the kitchen smells like banana bread, I've got a little buzz from the beer... THIS IS WHAT IT'S ALL ABOUT.

I managed to sneak a peek at the last half of American Idol last night, and holy hell did I bawl my eyes out. The sight of a mother desperate to get her dying baby the potential (but not easily accessible) life-saving treatment necessary for his survival and then learning moments later that they didn't make it in time and that the baby died BLEW MY MIND. I tried to think about how that would feel, but I couldn't really wrap my head around it. I can't even imagine it. I remember they said that in places like Africa, a child dies of malaria EVERY 30 SECONDS. How can this be? THAT IS INSANE! It makes my heart and head and tummy ache with grief to know that every 30 seconds a parent is mourning the death of their child because of a mosquito bite. I feel guilty for ignoring it and not wanting to think about it anymore, as I leave work in a half hour and casually stroll to my car, head down the road to the gym, change into my soft, clean cotton workout clothes, get 30 minutes of intervals in on the elliptical machine, and then head home to be with my happy and healthy and LUCKY AS HELL family for a quiet evening in our dimly lit living room, something cooking in the oven, D smelling of a hard days work and Marlboro Lights, Ethan smelling of his Huggies baby bodywash, with sticky fingers from his bedtime snack, our dog cuddled up under the edge of the coffee table... a typical weeknight at home.

I feel like an asshole for ranting on and on and ON about how I locked my keys in my car, oh what a fucking CRISIS! I feel like an even bigger asshole for making such a big deal about food and weight and binging and dieting when, DUDE, I should really be thanking my lucky stars that food and water are so readily available to me. I'm an asshole for taking lots of things for granted. Actually, we're all assholes. It's true. What can we do?

Mid-Week

Eeeeeeeeeesh. I am on the verge of gouging out my eyeballs with my little black staple remover because that is the only way to truly communicate how desperately bored I am right now. I actually just typed a silly little scenario about how they'd find me dead and eyeless and know right away that boredom got the best of me, that I died of boredom... but in light of recent events I decided to not go there. I sort of just now went there, though, by even saying anything. I'm sorry. I'm bored. I'm not going to kill myself with an office supply, though. Life is precious, and Office Depot can't take that away from me!

::

Seriously though. I locked my keys in my car ALL DAY the Saturday before last. I had just come home from the store. I got out of the car, locked the door out of pure habit, set my purse and my keys in the driver's seat, got Ethan out of his car seat, put him on my hip and held him with my right arm, grabbed some bags with my left hand, started talking to our mysterious neighbor who we never see or talk to and STUPIDLY OH SO STUPIDLY (but kind of understandably, right?) proceeded to slam the car door shut with my foot. It wasn't until I started looking for my cell phone a half hour later that I realized what I had done. Because we live in the extreme outskirts of the city, no locksmith would come to my rescue. "No ma'am, we don't travel that far." "Heh, heh... sorry, we can't help ya." "Whoa, you're way out there! The manager is very strict and you're not in our zone." Such fucking fuckery! I called the non-emergency police line and asked if a cop would try to unlock it with his "jimmy" stick or whatever the hell it's called. I call it USELESS PIECE OF CRAP because the officer poked and prodded around in my door and the MANUAL lock didn't even budge a half-centimeter. "Sorry darlin', looks like you'll have to find a locksmith." After calling and calling and calling every locksmith in the state of Louisiana and finding only ONE willing to travel to our part of town (though for a bend-over-and-I-am-not-using-lubricant fee of $140), I had a moment of insanity and decided that a yard stick crammed through the crack of my door would work like magic if we could wiggle it just behind the lock and then manage to pull forward. Somehow, with my mighty strength and pliers, I managed to pry the door open just enough for D to squeeze the yardstick through and bump the lock OPEN OPEN OPEN for the love of gawd OPEN. It was like we'd just cured a child of cancer or some shit, the way we were bouncing around the yard and hugging and cheering and whatnot. Really, anyone watching from afar would have totally thought we'd just won the lottery. It kind of felt like we did, for a moment. Such relief. I didn't even want to GO anywhere, I just wanted my damn cell phone and to know that I could go somewhere if I wanted to. ANYWAY!

Then last Saturday I had the tequila incident, which happens probably twice a year. I drink tequila only two or three times a year, TOPS... just enough to remind myself why I don't drink it regularly. "Oh yeah. I remember now. This sucks. Raaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaalph..." And I was hung over for Earth Day and puttered alongside a very energetic toddler under the hot sun amongst a crowd of what seemed like eighteen thousand people. Oh, and I finally gave in to the whole "have a drink to cure a hangover" thing and bought a "wine" ticket, which cost $4, and then I trucked it over to the wine booth with a quickness, asked for some "Serenity Merlot" or some such nonsense, handed over my ticket and was handed back the TINIEST cup of wine I have EVER seen. You know those cups at the dentist that they give you with that nasty fluoride cocktail in it, for you to swish with? Yeah. That's the size I'm talking about. Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaajor rip off. The wine was gone in 3 swigs and I didn't feel any better.

::

2 or 3 weeks ago I started taking the anti-depressant Welbutrin XL. That's really all I have to say about that. I have my ups and downs, like everyone does, but I felt I could benefit from a low dose of a little something-something. I'm super anxious, and this stuff mellows me out and helps keep me balanced. Not that I'm crazy, or if I am crazy then perhaps now I am slightly less so. Anyway, good stuff. Also, expensive stuff! But, totally worth it, at least for now. I also really feel like going on an anti-depressant around the same time that I started my non-diet was a smarty McSmartypants thing to do. I anticipated that I'd freak out and become a calorie Nazi again by week 2 (didn't happen). I figured I'd gain eight million pounds after week 1 (hasn't happened). I expected to walk around with a dark cloud over my head for awhile, which sort of happened but only very briefly, as I learned to let go of everything that half-way held me together before. That dark period has come and gone and I believe that the anti-depressant kept everything from pouring down on me all at once, gave me a more balanced and optimistic perspective, kept me going. Now, oddly enough, I can't IMAGINE measuring out my food again. EVER again. I can't fathom writing down each and every morsel I consume. I have absolutely, 100% used up ALL of my dieting abilities. I now declare that I am honestly and truly INCAPABLE of dieting. Like, ever again. And for that I am relieved, a little sad, a lot happy, and finally able to focus on other, MORE IMPORTANT things in my life. Like: chasing Ethan through the yard. Deciding what the hell I want to do with my life, career-wise. Finishing school. Kicking ass during my workouts. Enjoying good, healthy, UN-measured meals without a second thought. Calling my grandma, for the love of gawd! See what I mean? I guess I've just decided that I have better things to do than constantly worry about fitting into size 6 jeans. Pretty mature, eh?

RAN-DUMB

South Beach Diet has some new rad-sounding salad kits out. I bought the walnut-cranberry-chicken salad one and plan on eating it for lunch at work tomorrow. I'm already a big fan of their pizzas and breakfast wraps, so I'm hoping these are equally as delicious. In a pinch, South Beach meals typically provide a good balance of protein and carbs and a healthy dose of fiber. Yes, I'm on the eternal non-diet, but I absolutely still give a rats ass about eating enough protein and fiber. That will never change. You can NOT diet and still read labels. That is a way of life, MY way of life. I quite like it, actually.

::

Tomorrow marks 2 weeks of non-dieting. WHOOt! I'm not freaking out and deciding that I need to tighten things up and measure out my salad dressing, praise the Lord! Instead I am still eating what I want, when I want, exercising hard, NOT over-eating, enjoying everything as I go. Such a drastic change from 2 weeks ago, when I was still trapped in my death cycle of restrict/binge/restrict/binge. I don't mean to go on and on about this, but you have to understand that it's a HUGE deal to someone that has a)overeaten and binged ALL her life, b)suffered from severe anorexia for over 3 years, c)counted calories for a looooooooooooong time, and d)always labeled food as "good" or "bad". I had to totally reexamine everything in my life... it's never just about food or weight. Letting go of the control you get when you count calories was tough, but somehow it's really working this time. I get my inspiration from Sara L., who 1)has a hot belly photo up at the current mo' and 2)is 1 year ahead of me with this non-diet thing. Not only do we share the same name, but we've been down some similar roads and she has been a blessing to me, a real doll in replying to my annoying and repetitive emails regarding weight and food and THE STRUGGLE in general.

::

Yesterday we bought a new blender, how exciting! We decided to celebrate by making Mexican food and homemade margaritas. Heh! I made the ultimate mistake when I decided that the 2 LARGE margaritas my husband had made me just weren't doing it for me and chased them with a large-ish glass of red wine. Jose totally snuck up on me and bit me right on the ass, and my delicious dinner ended up in the toilet. I also passed out on the bathroom floor for about 2 hours. Despite how much my husband laughed at me, this was in NO WAY funny. I am not 18, or 19, or 21. I am 27. 27 year olds DO NOT get the spins and spew their carefully perfected dinner down a porcelain tunnel. It was horrible. Vow # 1: I AM NEVER DRINKING TEQUILA AGAIN. Vow # 2: I AM NEVER GETTING A HANGOVER AGAIN, EVER. I drank loads of coffee and a giant diet redbull this morning as a spur-o-the-moment hangover cure, and I was FLYING. It was scary. Then we went to Earth Day in Baton Rouge and ate festival food and got sun burned and walked through crowds and crowds and crowds of people, under the hot sun, and I felt like I actually might DIE. I didn't die. I just ate a huge grilled chicken salad with carrots and tomatoes and green peppers and spinach and ranch dressing. But I ALMOST died. The moral of the story is DO NOT BREAK UNIVERSAL DRINKING RULE # 4: Never chase tequila with red wine. You've been warned. Don't let me down.

::

Heard the new Cold War Kids song? Hang me out to dry? THE BEST SONG EVER. Ever. That's all I have to say about that.

::

Just read everything over and realized that none of it makes any sense. Enjoy. There's a message and a story there somewhere. Good luck finding it. Also, wear a condom.

RAN-DUMB

South Beach Diet has some new rad-sounding salad kits out. I bought the walnut-cranberry-chicken salad one and plan on eating it for lunch at work tomorrow. I'm already a big fan of their pizzas and breakfast wraps, so I'm hoping these are equally as delicious. In a pinch, South Beach meals typically provide a good balance of protein and carbs and a healthy dose of fiber. Yes, I'm on the eternal non-diet, but I absolutely still give a rats ass about eating enough protein and fiber. That will never change. You can NOT diet and still read labels. That is a way of life, MY way of life. I quite like it, actually.

::

Tomorrow marks 2 weeks of non-dieting. WHOOt! I'm not freaking out and deciding that I need to tighten things up and measure out my salad dressing, praise the Lord! Instead I am still eating what I want, when I want, exercising hard, NOT over-eating, enjoying everything as I go. Such a drastic change from 2 weeks ago, when I was still trapped in my death cycle of restrict/binge/restrict/binge. I don't mean to go on and on about this, but you have to understand that it's a HUGE deal to someone that has a)overeaten and binged ALL her life, b)suffered from severe anorexia for over 3 years, c)counted calories for a looooooooooooong time, and d)always labeled food as "good" or "bad". I had to totally reexamine everything in my life... it's never just about food or weight. Letting go of the control you get when you count calories was tough, but somehow it's really working this time. I get my inspiration from Sara L., who 1)has a hot belly photo up at the current mo' and 2)is 1 year ahead of me with this non-diet thing. Not only do we share the same name, but we've been down some similar roads and she has been a blessing to me, a real doll in replying to my annoying and repetitive emails regarding weight and food and THE STRUGGLE in general.

::

Yesterday we bought a new blender, how exciting! We decided to celebrate by making Mexican food and homemade margaritas. Heh! I made the ultimate mistake when I decided that the 2 LARGE margaritas my husband had made me just weren't doing it for me and chased them with a large-ish glass of red wine. Jose totally snuck up on me and bit me right on the ass, and my delicious dinner ended up in the toilet. I also passed out on the bathroom floor for about 2 hours. Despite how much my husband laughed at me, this was in NO WAY funny. I am not 18, or 19, or 21. I am 27. 27 year olds DO NOT get the spins and spew their carefully perfected dinner down a porcelain tunnel. It was horrible. Vow # 1: I AM NEVER DRINKING TEQUILA AGAIN. Vow # 2: I AM NEVER GETTING A HANGOVER AGAIN, EVER. I drank loads of coffee and a giant diet redbull this morning as a spur-o-the-moment hangover cure, and I was FLYING. It was scary. Then we went to Earth Day in Baton Rouge and ate festival food and got sun burned and walked through crowds and crowds and crowds of people, under the hot sun, and I felt like I actually might DIE. I didn't die. I just ate a huge grilled chicken salad with carrots and tomatoes and green peppers and spinach and ranch dressing. But I ALMOST died. The moral of the story is DO NOT BREAK UNIVERSAL DRINKING RULE # 4: Never chase tequila with red wine. You've been warned. Don't let me down.

::

Heard the new Cold War Kids song? Hang me out to dry? THE BEST SONG EVER. Ever. That's all I have to say about that.

::

Just read everything over and realized that none of it makes any sense. Enjoy. There's a message and a story there somewhere. Good luch finding it. Also, wear a condom.

RAN-DUMB

South Beach Diet has some new rad-sounding salad kits out. I bought the walnut-cranberry-chicken salad one and plan on eating it for lunch at work tomorrow. I'm already a big fan of their pizzas and breakfast wraps, so I'm hoping these are equally as delicious. In a pinch, South Beach meals typically provide a good balance of protein and carbs and a healthy dose of fiber. Yes, I'm on the eternal non-diet, but I absolutely still give a rats ass about eating enough protein and fiber. That will never change. You can NOT diet and still read labels. That is a way of life, MY way of life. I quite like it, actually.

::

Tomorrow marks 2 weeks on non-dieting. WHOOt! I'm not freaking out and deciding that I need to tighten things up and measure out my salad dressing, praise the Lord! Instead I am still eating what I want, when I want, exercising hard, NOT over-eating, enjoying everything as I go. Such a drastic change from 2 weeks ago, when I was still trapped in my death cycle of restrict/binge/restrict/binge. I don't mean to go on and on about this, but you have to understand that it's a HUGE deal to someone that has a)overeaten and binged ALL her life, b)suffered from severe anorexia for over 3 years, c)counted calories for a looooooooooooong time, and d)always labeled food as "good" or "bad". I had to totally reexamine everything in my life... it's never just about food or weight. Letting go of the control you get when you count calories was tough, but somehow it's really working this time. I get my inspiration from Sara L., who 1)has a hot belly photo up at the current mo' and 2)is 1 year ahead of me with this non-diet thing. Not only do we share the same name, but we've been down some similar roads and she has been a blessing to me, a real doll in replying to my annoying and repetitive emails regarding weight and food and THE STRUGGLE in general.

::

Yesterday we bought a new blender, how exciting! We decided to celebrate by making Mexican food and homemade margaritas. Heh! I made the ultimate mistake when I decided that the 2 LARGE margaritas my husband had made me just weren't doing it for me and chased them with a large-ish glass of red wine. Jose totally snuck up on me and bit me right on the ass, and my delicious dinner ended up in the toilet. I also passed out on the bathroom floor for about 2 hours. Despite how much my husband laughed at me, this was in NO WAY funny. I am not 18, or 19, or 21. I am 27. 27 year olds DO NOT get the spins and spew their carefully perfected dinner down a porcelain tunnel. It was horrible. Vow # 1: I AM NEVER DRINKING TEQUILA AGAIN. Vow # 2: I AM NEVER GETTING A HANGOVER AGAIN, EVER. I drank loads of coffee and a giant diet redbull this morning as a spur-o-the-moment hangover cure, and I was FLYING. It was scary. Then we went to Earth Day in Baton Rouge and ate festival food and got sun burned and walked through crowds and crowds and crowds of people, under the hot sun, and I felt like I actually might DIE. I didn't die. I just ate a huge grilled chicken salad with carrots and tomatoes and green peppers and spinach and ranch dressing. But I ALMOST died. The moral of the story is DO NOT BREAK UNIVERSAL DRINKING RULE # 4: Never chase tequila with red wine. You've been warned. Don't let me down.

::

Heard the new Cold War Kids song? Hang me out to dry? THE BEST SONG EVER. Ever. That's all I have to say about that.

RAN-DUMB

South Beach Diet has some new rad-sounding salad kits out. I bought the walnut-cranberry-chicken salad one and plan on eating it for lunch at work tomorrow. I'm already a big fan of their pizzas and breakfast wraps, so I'm hoping these are equally as delicious. In a pinch, South Beach meals typically provide a good balance of protein and carbs and a healthy dose of fiber. Yes, I'm on the eternal non-diet, but I absolutely still give a rats ass about eating enough protein and fiber. That will never change. You can NOT diet and still read labels. That is a way of life, MY way of life. I quite like it, actually.

::

Tomorrow marks 2 weeks on non-dieting. WHOOt! I'm not freaking out and deciding that I need to tighten things up and measure out my salad dressing, praise the Lord! Instead I am still eating what I want, when I want, exercising hard, NOT over-eating, enjoying everything as I go. Such a drastic change from 2 weeks ago, when I was still trapped in my death cycle of restrict/binge/restrict/binge. I don't mean to go on and on about this, but you have to understand that it's a HUGE deal to someone that has a)overeaten and binged ALL her life, b)suffered from severe anorexia for over 3 years, c)counted calories for a looooooooooooong time, and d)always labeled food as "good" or "bad". I had to totally reexamine everything in my life... it's never just about food or weight. Letting go of the control you get when you count calories was tough, but somehow it's really working this time. I get my inspiration from Sara L., who 1)has a hot belly photo up at the current mo' and 2)is 1 year ahead of me with this non-diet thing. Not only do we share the same name, but we've been down some similar roads and she has been a blessing to me, a real doll in replying to my annoying and repetitive emails regarding weight and food and THE STRUGGLE in general.

::

Yesterday we bought a new blender, how exciting! We decided to celebrate by making Mexican food and homemade margaritas. Heh! I made the ultimate mistake when I decided that the 2 LARGE margaritas my husband had made me just weren't doing it for me and chased them with a large-ish glass of red wine. Jose totally snuck up on me and bit me right on the ass, and my delicious dinner ended up in the toilet. I also passed out on the bathroom floor for about 2 hours. Despite how much my husband laughed at me, this was in NO WAY funny. I am not 18, or 19, or 21. I am 27. 27 year olds DO NOT get the spins and spew their carefully perfected dinner down a porcelain tunnel. It was horrible. Vow # 1: I AM NEVER DRINKING TEQUILA AGAIN. Vow # 2: I AM NEVER GETTING A HANGOVER AGAIN, EVER. I drank loads of coffee and a giant diet redbull this morning as a spur-o-the-moment hangover cure, and I was FLYING. It was scary. Then we went to Earth Day in Baton Rouge and ate festival food and got sun burned and walked through crowds and crowds and crowds of people, under the hot sun, and I felt like I actually might DIE. I didn't die. I just ate a huge grilled chicken salad with carrots and tomatoes and green peppers and spinach and ranch dressing. But I ALMOST died. The moral of the story is DO NOT BREAK UNIVERSAL DRINKING RULE # 4: Never chase tequila with red wine. You've been warned. Don't let me down.

::

Heard the new Cold War Kids song? Hang me out to dry? THE BEST SONG EVER. Ever. That's all I have to say about that.

Thursday? YES! Thursday!

WHOOt! It's THURSDAY! I do love Thursdays. It's the day that all of our favorite t.v. shows come on, it's one day away from Friday, it's my second most favorite day of the week. Doesn't Thursday have a nice ring to it? A nice feel to it? Ahhh. Thursday. Yeah. Nice. Sweet.

::

Job update: I've been at an annual Water Environment conference the last 2 days, and it has really opened my eyes. I really think that I want to pursue a career in the environmental industry, but I need some guidance and direction. There are so many things I could do! I'll try to schedule a lunch with my boss to "pick his brain" (I've always hated that phrase, WTF?). He's been in this industry for 25 years and knows EVERYONE. Anyway, I'll have my associate of science at the end of May, and after that the sky's the limit baby! Can I get a hell yeah? (HELL YEAH!) Can I get a what-what? (WHAT-WHAT!) Can I get a refill on this glass of Chianti? (GULP, GULP.) Yeah. Nice. Sweet.

::

Baby update: Sheesh ya'll, I didn't sign up for this shit. The TANTRUMS. He's a ray of sunshine, a real TREAT, but if you even think of making a wrong move he will let you know. HE WILL MAKE YOUR LIFE A LIVING HELL. He pretty much runs the roost around here. He's totally king of the castle, and I am in the corner of the dungeon consulting my Super Nanny book on how to deal with his hitting and his tantrums and his great displeasure with 99.9% of everything that life has to offer. I agree, life kinda sucks, but damn. Soon I will introduce him to the magic of red wine. There, there. Drink up, son... mommy will make it ALL BETTER.

::

Fitness update: I am consistently working out 5 or 6 days a week, per the usual. I'm in my last week of Maximum Intensity Strength. I am unsure of what program to do for the next 4 weeks. I'm thinking of cycling back to Leaner Legs and CTX Upper Body, but I REALLY have my eye on the Cathe Pyramid and Superset dvds. I know I'll buy them eventually. I loved Muscle Max so much that after this next 4 weeks I will probably do it again, but I need to add some new dvds to my collection. I LOVE lifting weights. Nothing compares to how I feel after a good, kick ass weight workout. Good stuff y'all. Yeah. Nice. Sweet.

::

Non-un-anti-diet update: Thumbs up all around! Imagine, eating what I want when I'm hungry! WHAT A CONCEPT! The best part: NOT THINKING ABOUT FOOD BETWEEN MEALS. NOT COUNTING DOWN THE MINUTES UNTIL MY NEXT MEAL. NO MORE BINGING. Awesome. Really, I'm not sure what's different this go around but it is all fucking good. I've never felt better, never felt more in control, never turned down more spinach and artichoke dip (like at lunch today, for example). This has truly been a major life change, and the crazy thing is that I actually feel thinner. Clothes are fitting better. I made a promise to myself to NOT weigh for AT LEAST a month. So, mid-May I just might hop on the scale to see what has happened. And I'm not at all scared. Based on how I feel and look, based on the JOY of getting to eat without guilt and not making myself sick every sixth day, based on actually fucking LIVING LIFE and being passionate and healthy and ALIVE... this is what it's all about. Sucks that it took me 27 years to learn the true meaning of BALANCE, but hell, better late than never. Yeah. Nice. It really is sweet.

Saturday

Currently our living room floor has the following scattered about it: 7 books, 1 coloring book, a drumstick (not the kind you eat, heh), a hat, a football, one toddler sock, oh... two toddler socks, 2 frosted animal crackers (5 second rule my ass), 1 puzzle piece, 1 dirty chihuahua, a bunny head that springs up and makes noises when you push a button, an aquadoodle (have you SEEN these? Way cool.), one sippy cup containing half juice, half water. For those of you who decided to read my blog in hopes of finding out just how messy my living room is, there you go. On the t.v.: DUMBO. E has little interest in it but man, I sure am enjoying it! I can't believe I remember it so well. I sing along to all the songs and E looks up at me like damn mama, you're amazing. You know every song ever written! When he starts bringing math homework home he will realize just how very un-brilliant I am. Until then, I'm a freakin' genius. I'll take it.

::

I spotted some Da Vinci sugar free syrup at Wal-Mart this morning, Vanilla flavor. I also picked up some Splenda Blends packets in French Vanilla, and dude! BEST COFFEE EVER! A splash of the syrup + a packet of the splenda blends + black coffee = my head exploding. Very tasty. I'm sure there are some fab cocktails I can whip up using the syrup. (Does anyone even say COCKTAIL anymore? I think we should start saying it more often. Also, DOUCHE. I've pointed this out before, but I'll say it again: If someone is actin' a fool, call them a douche. It feels great.) ANYWAY!

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I hate to drone on and on about diet all the time, so let's take a turn and talk about the un-diet. My very good friend (uh, whom I've never met, is that creepy?) Sara L. started her un-diet a year ago this month. I've done this half-way before, but my heart was never really in it and I'd always end up overeating and then, OF COURSE, I'd plan a super-strict diet starting the next day, which would eventually cause me to overeat again, diet again, rinse and repeat and repeat and repeat and repeat until your head really DOES explode and you realize that you're not getting anywhere, you're not enjoying life, you don't want to crunch numbers anymore or count out 17 almonds or measure a T. of mustard before you spread it on your sandwich, DO YOU KNOW WHAT I'M SAYING? I have decided to whole-heartedly really and truly go on an un-diet. A non-diet. Whatever you want to call it, the rules are pretty simple: eat only what you truly want, not what you feel you SHOULD... eat only when you're hungry, or if you're eating when you're not really hungry at the very least acknowledge that you're not hungry and pay special attention to how the food makes you feel... and finally, NO BINGING. This is something I have struggled with ALL MY LIFE. It's awful. It's a horrible thing to struggle with, and I'm ready to make a complete lifestyle change to stop it. I know that tossing out my calorie journal and stowing away my measuring cups was a huge step in the right direction. It's been since Monday that I've been doing this. Not very long at all. In the past when I've done this, I usually started on a Monday. The weekend would bring plenty of overeating opportunities, I'd stuff myself, then panic and begin a lettuce and cottage cheese diet on Monday. It's the weekend, and I feel no urge to overeat. We have a pizza planned for tonight, one with whole-wheat crust that I picked up at the store this morning. I'll probably have a glass of wine. We might make pancakes in the morning. I had the most delicious tuna and spinach salad for lunch today. I'm feeling really good about it this time. I think the problem with un-dieting in the past has been that I really wasn't eating what I wanted to eat.

I told my mom last night that it's about time I started eating like a normal person, and she pointed out that most "normal" people don't even have a grip on their eating habits. She's right. How many people do you know that are on a diet? How many people do you know that get really excited about their food, eat well and indulge without guilt, exercise for health and love every minute of it? I'm tired of being on a "diet". I'm tired of "cutting". I'm tired of only allowing myself 1,550 calories a day and then losing my mind and consuming 10,000 calories a few days later. I'm tired of feeling weak when I work out. I LOVE how much more weight I can lift when I'm actually fueling my body properly and eating enough. Anyway, gawd I'm tired of talking about it. I'm just gonna fucking do it. I'll conclude with what Sara wrote, that pretty much sums it up:

If I focus on health, fitness, fun and living passionately then my body
will respond by becoming fit and lean. The focus needs to be on lifestyle. Form
follows function.

Tuesday

I am currently watching American Idol. My husband is grilling burgers. I've had 1 1/2 glasses of Merlot. I know that once he's inside the channel will change. He will look at me with disgust, sigh his disapproving sigh, and promptly change the channel to something lame like Trick My Truck or Ultimate Fighter. (Ok, I DO like Ultimate Fighter, but I have to half-way protest to balance out his hatred for American Idol.)

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When we say "Pull my hair!" during sex, that means to LIGHTLY tug and pull slightly. That DOES NOT mean grab my hair by the roots and try to pull it all out in one swift motion, because the wig selection these days is TO DIE FOR. I'm half bald now, thanks alot. Christ.

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Bogart. Gah, Bogart. Smelly and flea-infested, no matter how often we bathe or medicate him... still poops in the house from time to time without reason... begs to sleep in the bed with us but then cowers away when I reach out to grab him... wags his tail at company but then bites them the minute they try to pet him. Poor, poor Bogart. Oh little chihuahua of mine, either get hit by a car already or fucking get a grip.

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I am an animal lover, I SWEAR.

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We're going to a strawberry festival on Saturday! I was all excited until I learned that I am not eligible to run for the Strawberry Queen pageant. WTF? I am over-age (23 or under, psh!), married (only unmarried whores need apply!) and have had a child (no damaged goods, please). I can't even run for STRAWBERRY QUEEN, y'all. Is life even worth living anymore?

Gah!

I miss posting, I miss ranting and raving and poking fun and venting and observing and reporting. But here I am! Things happen throughout the week where I'll say to myself gah, must blog about that!, but of course I've forgotten it all by the time I can sit down to actually type.

First, work. Still love it. There's that slightly awkward vibe going on the first few weeks of any job, when you're the new guy and you have to feel out your co-workers. You kind of have to test their limits and see what kind of senses of humor they have before you go cracking jokes that could technically get you fired or say your first curse word aloud when your computer freezes up, you know, those kinds of things. Fortunately everyone in my office is too freaking cool for words and we all drum to the same beat. I couldn't be happier, I couldn't ask for more. I feel really, REALLY lucky.

2nd, Ethan: good gravy, y'all. One minute he is an angelic shimmer of light sent down from the heavens above, the next he's a hungry, violent, LOUD little gremlin that I will do almost anything to appease. When he's up, he's up. When he's down, look out! Angel E can color and count and make animal noises and feed himself with utensils and melt my heart with a single smile. Evil Ethan likes to hit me and anyone else that gets too close to him, flails about like a newly caught catfish and is capable of screaming so loudly that I repeatedly comment to Drew oh my, how very loud he screams. It shocks me every time. If we're in the car and he starts to get fussy and lets out one of his blood curdling cries, my ears actually ring. There there, little fellow. Mommy and Daddy CAN HEAR YOU, YOU'VE MADE IT QUITE CLEAR THAT YOU ARE UNHAPPY SO WHY WITH THE SCREAMING AND THE SCREAMING AND THE SCREAMING!?

He's getting to the point at daycare where the other tots will wave bye-bye to him when he leaves in the afternoon, like he actually has friends. He has more friends than me and D combined. And they're all so cute and stumpy in their own little ways. When it's my turn to pick him after work, I like to sneak outside where his class is usually at and watch him before he realizes I'm there. One day last week he was in the very back of the fenced-in play yard all by himself. There are play steering wheels attached to the fence, and he was twisting and turning them like he'd just stolen a cop car and was taking a wild, beer-fueled ride downtown. He reminds me so much of his daddy in so many wonderful ways. We bought him a sprinkler that also blows bubbles, aka the coolest toy in the entire world. He has a coloring book and loves to actually color now more than he likes to eat all the points off the crayons. He loves loves LOVES to read books. Bedtime is always a treat for everyone involved. No matter how fussy he might be, 99.9% of the time he totally chills for bedtime reading. His dad and I each read him a book, and he'll point and repeat everything we say, turn the pages, and recite the parts he knows with a big toothy smile, every time.

What I'm trying to say, I suppose, is that no matter how busy I am and how much I miss spending every day with Ethan, the quality of our time together now is so much better. I look forward to sitting on the living room rug with him to read a book, to brushing his tiny little pearly whites after his bedtime snack, to showing him how to put pieces in a puzzle. I will admit that after a long weekend of tantrums and face batting and general unhappiness, I probably drive to daycare a little bit faster than usual on Monday morning to drop him off. But I probably drive even faster to get back to him at the end of the day, when my heart inevitably aches for peanut butter in my hair and snot on my shoulder. Things are good.