It Looks Like 2 Pigs, Fighting Under a Blanket

...or in my pants.  My fancy shmancy dinner party-appropriate fat pair of dress pants.

Pull up a chair little children and I will tell you a tale of woe of a body shaper that doesn't do sh*t.

Maybe it's because I bought the shoddy 1/2-Off set from Target instead of buying Spanx like a smart girl. But I thought these industrial-strength lycra might be like a gateway drug of faking the skinny.

The Good:
They made my muffin disappear (spirit fingers!)

The Bad:
They were god-awfully uncomfortable.
It took an hour to go to the bathroom.
The thunder thigh slimmers started to roll during dinner and I had lycra donuts around my thighs.
I spent the entire night thinking about how sausage casing works.

If it weren't for the fact that I stood in my closet for an ungodly amount of time looking for something to wear to the nice dinner party only to realize I had NOTHING.TO.WEAR, those torture-devices of shame would have stayed in the underwear drawer. Right next to my JCrew swimsuit from 1998.

So, I'm at a crossroads.

Do I go shopping for new Fat Pants? (Because FYI- the pants I wore to dinner? They ARE my fat pants. You know things are critical when your Fat Pants become Skinny Pants.)

Do I buy real, honest-to-goodness Spanx? And if they do the same thing, I will point my finger at you and declare you Dead To Me.

Do I use this experience as firey motivation to burn calories like a fatty arson?

Don't lead me astray, Readers. My wardrobe is counting on you.

Oh yeah, for you gluttons of the scale:
Weight: 135*
Pounds Lost: .8 (does it count as a loss when you're still up from 2 weeks ago?)
Pounds to Go: 8 to pre-pregnancy

* ps.- I'm not-quite-5'2."  So imagine Danny Devito with more hair. That's like me. 5 pounds goes a long way when you're as tall as a hobbit.

Nooooooo!!!!!!!!

My Nikon bit the dust yesterday. Cause unknown.

One minute I was taking a picture of a decanter for my photography class. The next minute it was all black and wouldn't turn on. There was a moment where I put it on our table to go tend to a baby but when I picked it up, it was all DOA.

I tried resuscitating it by charging up the battery..... Nothing.

I took it to the camera store to see if the battery was fried.... Nope

RIP Nikon d5000

So now we're (I'm) grieving in this mug. I tried covering the mirrors with blankets but Brendan keeps pulling them off.  I'm wearing black and at every opportunity I find it helpful to wring my hands, wail, and shake my fist at the sky.

So I thought in all thus turmoil & devastation, now is a good time to review the stages of grief.

DENIAL:  It's just the battery! I know it! I just need to resuscitate the battery!.... That didn't work? No problem! I just need to take it to the camera store and get a new battery because this one is fried. Not on my watch, Nikon! Not...on...my...watch.....

ANGER:   I hate you POS Nikon! I'm going to drop you in the bathtub! That'll show you!

BARGAINING:  I'll send you in for repairs but you need to promise to come back good and well. Or, I tell you what. Work through my class on Tuesday and we'll call it good. For now.

DEPRESSION: My camera is dead. Hand me a drink.

ACCEPTANCE: You know, those Nikon D90's are pretty sweet.

At Least It's Not Poop

I found Finn snacking away the other day in our living room.

His snack of choice? Kleenex. Delish!

 

Poor Sick Baby

Cassidy always gets sick.

She's got the immune system of a....well, a baby. Dur.

See that snot? It is baptizing our house.

She wants to be held all the time and has been really fussy lately. I'm a little nervous the nanny is going to quit from baby/toddler hazing.

Of course, when she's not clinging to your leg like a barnacle, she's walking (WALKING!) like a champ and starting to pick up speed.

She's so fast. She's blurry.

Pretty soon I'll be able to send her out to the store to buy cold medicine.

Everything Tastes Better Than Being Thin Feels

Here are some stats comin at ya!

(Nostalgic aside- College BFF, Leah, and I had a radio show in college. It was called "Shaniqua and Your Mom: We Don't Wear Blue Eyeshadow." Leah always introduced songs with "comin at ya!" "Liz Phair comin at ya!")

POUNDS LOST: none. zip. zero.
POUNDS GAINED: two. dos. deux.
EXCUSES: I ran out of fingers and counting is hard.

The truth is, I've been losing the same 5 pounds for about 6 months now.  I think they're gone and then they show back up. Like Herpes*. Only with more jiggle. And less burning.

If I'm honest- I didn't really track my food this week. And I ate cake. Like- a lot of cake. Cause it was in the house and I didn't want it to feel sad and unworthy of eating. I ate a lot of salt too. Because cake and salt go well together when you're busy killing a diet like an assassin.

On the up & up? I ran. TWICE. And while I almost died because my bleepity-bleep neighbors didn't shovel their sidewalks and there was killer ice, I came out victorious! Also, I'm giving the ole food diary an honest chance, so I've been tracking the last 3 days. And there might just be something to this trick. I'm back down a pound.

Come along and ride on this fantastic rollercoaster of cellulite!

What will happen this next week? Will there be cake? carrots? calorie-benders? Stay tuned...

* For those curiosity-seekers, I do not have Herpes. Nor have I ever had Herpes. I just like to talk about the Simplex Virus because I'm gross like a boy.

** For the grandparents- I'm really not withholding pictures of your precious grandbabies for a ransom. I'm just waiting for my Photoshop to arrive in the mail. Love ya!

Call Me Peepster

My office just moved me to Work at Home. (side note: If you ever have the option to do this. Say yes. Working from home is pimp)

A 30-Second commute
Working in sweats
Peeking in on the babes when I run to the bathroom
Abandoning my cubical like it's on fire & covered with Herpes (I hate cubical life. Just a little.)
Watching the squirrels out my window

Work couldn't be much better.

With one notable drawback.


Now that my desk faces a window, I get to look at the mountains, the city skyline, the homeless man digging through my garbage, and straight into my neighbor's window because they have no curtains.
I'm a pervy Peeping Tom.

It really gets Awkward when it's dark out and we both have our lights on. They can see me. I can see them. And I freeze with indecision.

Do I wave?
Do I ignore them?
Do I put down my binoculars?
 

I lack social skills so I have no clue what constitutes an appropriate response to this situation. Maybe I should ask the homeless man in my alley.

When the Chubber Hits the Road

Hey Peeps.

I know you've got to be tired of hearing me talk about being a chunk. And the Maternity Pants that Just Won't Quit (which- FYI- still in the wardrobe rotation...excuse me while I hide from shame).

Truth is, I complain about this a lot for someone who  does nothing to change it. So, I'm that girl. I hate that girl. I secretly give her the finger behind her back. Cause I'm a dick like that.

And y'all have offered great suggestions.

P90x? Yeah, that sucker scares the shit out of me.
Weight Watchers? I'm half-assing my way through that program like a champ.
And my pal, Adrienne, is kicking butt with low-carb. And it's super tempting to jump on the bacon wagon.

Frankly, I like the IDEA of losing weight. The idea of fitting into my old clothes.
But the WORK involved is where I get stuck.

I don't know if you've heard, but I have a lot going on.
A full-time job
A private business I'm growing
A couple babies who still like to wake up at 2am to party like rock stars

And the idea of adding a program, accountability, food diaries, exercise, Insert Sigh-Inducing Task Here, frankly exhausts me. It makes me want to eat a large pizza in one sitting. While laying in bed. Watching Jerseylicious. Sometimes I feel like I'm barely keeping it together. Like my little home eco-system is poised on the edge of disaster. And I'm afraid that adding another task to my to-do list is going to send everything into the brink. (I know this paragraph is probably going to earn a concerned phone call from the parental units. I'm fine, Mom. I promise. Cheers!)

Then today- A breakthrough.  A full on, "Egads!" finger pointed to the sky, breakthrough. I realize that if I don't do something to take care of myself, something to make myself better, then I'm really doing a disservice to my family. To my little ecosystem. So, I'm committing myself to myself. I'm going to start making "Me" a priority (and that looks like more than a glass of wine every night).

That's the Hotness right there

I've signed up for a 5K.  The date is May 1.
I've enlisted my brother to run along side me. He's fully aware that he will probably have to hold my hair back while I throw up after (or during?). He's still coming because he's awesome.

My plan?
Couch to 5K on the IPodder
Eating more fruits & vegetables
Weight Watchers Tracking - Although the thought of this makes me want to bang my head against my keyboard
And posting my weight here (please pass the paper bag while I die inside)

Care to join me?



There's a good chance I'll fall on my face but here we go. Weeee!!!

STARTING WEIGHT:  133.8, as of Friday
TODAY'S WEIGHT: 136.7 (thank you diet of alcohol, salt, and cake over the last 3 days)

* I should say this post has been percolating for awhile but I was inspired this morning by my girl, Blair, at The Heir to Blair. Word Blair. Word.

Christmas in January

Christmas comes 2 weeks late in blog land. Blame grandparents visiting, blame the babies' birthday (oh yeah- need to blog that one too), blame the Flu Epidemic of 2010-2011, I'm a little behind.

And not just in blogging about Christmas. This year, it's the holiday that won't die.

The babies are still sporting their Santa footy pajamas.

And my ipod?

Let's just say Grandma is still getting runover by reindeer several times a week.

(There are so many bad Christmas songs that this alone merits a lone blog post. "Love on Layaway?" Really, Gloria Estefan? REALLY?)

But besides a general holiday hangover, our Christmas was bad ass. We had a quiet day with just the 4 of us. Skyped with grandparents. Marveled in our crazy generous friends (Our friend, Adrienne at O Baby! made the babies gorgeous sweaters. Seriously the softest sweaters you've ever felt. And so beautiful they might just get to wear them when they're old enough to be responsible and not spill applesauce all over them. You know. Like when they're 30.) Brendan & I drank wine and let our heads spin with how much our lives changed over this past year. Yep. Our Christmas was pretty much full of The Awesome.
 
And for your viewing pleasure, here are some pretty horrible pictures that document our day. (The Red will put your eye out!)

"The Night Before Christmas" being read the night before Christmas. We are nothing if not literalist.

Token Christmas Morning Photo.

She really has no idea what's going on here.

The aftermath of a present extravaganza!

Winter hats so stinkin cute you may just cry. (Pay no attention to the massive combover in the background)

This is what a Christmas Overdose looks like. 

This was the first Christmas where I was really struck by how much we have. Friends. Family. Each Other.

And now that the tree is down, toys are put away, and Gloria finally cashes out on Love just remember- There are only 348 shopping days until Christmas (You're welcome).

It's 5 O'Clock Somewhere

Good morning.

Our nanny called at 6am this morning.

She has a fever.
And is throwing up.

So, I'm at home with the babies. Yay!

Except Finn is upstairs. Screaming.

He's been screaming and crying for over an hour.

He's changed.
Fed.
Rocked.
Loved on.

And still screaming.

And even though it's only 10:30am, I could really use a drink.

Make it a stiff one.

Holiday Hangover

I've been a crap blogger for the past week.

No Holiday Photos uploaded- Check
No Thank You Notes written- Check
No Calls to Loved Ones- Check
No Trips to the Post Office- Check

But that doesn't mean I haven't been busy this past week! Here's a count of things I DID get accomplished in the last 9 days.

Trips to the Jail (For work, peeps. For work. Geesh...) - TWO

Hours in the Car Going to the Jail- FOUR

Debit Card Lost in the Car- ONE

Digs in a Gas Station Garbage Looking for Debit Card while Jimbob and Methinks a Hooker Looked on- THREE

Minutes Spent Searching by Husband Before Debit Card was Found in Car- TWO

Grandparents in Town- TWO

Awesome Gifts From Wonderfully Generous Friends & Family- COUNTLESS

Flat Tire- ONE

Plumbing Issue in the Basement- ONE

Bouts of the Furious, Rhea-Filled, Feverish, Vomitous Flu- FOUR

Birthday parties canceled- ONE

Ruined Bathroom Trashcans- ONE

Like I said- Busy. But here's to getting that first list unchecked. Happy New Year!