Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Sunday, June 17, 2007
Blah blah blah
Right. Where to begin. There's been so many gosh darn things screaming for me to blog about them that I'm not sure where to start...
I was stopped at a light the other day and a man on a bicycle was attempting to do up his helmet strap on the side of the road. I glanced over and spotted him - and had to look again as something about it wasn't all together normal. When I looked back I had to seriously think about what was wrong with the picture in front of me. Then it dawned on me that the man was wearing a helmet about the size that a six year old would normally wear. Rather comical. Funnier still was that he was quite desperately trying to do up the chin strap...
stop and imagine this for a moment...
The strap wouldn't reach his chin - though not for lack of trying on his part. I watched and found myself kind of guffawing. He proceeded to do the strap up in his mouth - and clamp his teeth down upon it for extra safety. Then he - squished cheeks and all - rode off into the distance.
I think mayhaps it is too late for the helmet to be of any help to this poor chap.
I was stopped at a light the other day and a man on a bicycle was attempting to do up his helmet strap on the side of the road. I glanced over and spotted him - and had to look again as something about it wasn't all together normal. When I looked back I had to seriously think about what was wrong with the picture in front of me. Then it dawned on me that the man was wearing a helmet about the size that a six year old would normally wear. Rather comical. Funnier still was that he was quite desperately trying to do up the chin strap...
stop and imagine this for a moment...
The strap wouldn't reach his chin - though not for lack of trying on his part. I watched and found myself kind of guffawing. He proceeded to do the strap up in his mouth - and clamp his teeth down upon it for extra safety. Then he - squished cheeks and all - rode off into the distance.
I think mayhaps it is too late for the helmet to be of any help to this poor chap.
Friday, June 15, 2007
When I was a child I remember playing in the backyard for hours in the summer. I remember thinking that my yard was as big as a Provincial Park when in fact, having returned to my childhood home the yard is rather small. We had all manner of fruit trees growing; apple, cherry, pear. plum and mulberry trees. The mulberry trees used to drop fruit all about the lawn and being children we often ran barefoot. Our feet were forever stained all shades of blue and purple. The sharp sweet taste of the mulberries takes me instantly back to being six years old running through the sprinkler with little blue feet.
Yesterday, I was in my backyard and on the ground I spotted a little purple berry. I reached down and picked it up - low and behold...a mulberry. I tentatively glanced around (wouldn’t want anyone to see me eat something off of the ground) and popped it into my mouth. I savoured the taste of childhood with my eyes closed and a warm breeze encircled me like an embrace. A little smile crept across my face and I glanced up... my own mulberry tree. Maybe being a grown up isn’t so bad all of time.
Yesterday, I was in my backyard and on the ground I spotted a little purple berry. I reached down and picked it up - low and behold...a mulberry. I tentatively glanced around (wouldn’t want anyone to see me eat something off of the ground) and popped it into my mouth. I savoured the taste of childhood with my eyes closed and a warm breeze encircled me like an embrace. A little smile crept across my face and I glanced up... my own mulberry tree. Maybe being a grown up isn’t so bad all of time.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
An email that speaks to me...
I am hereby officially tendering my resignation as an adult.
I have decided I would like to accept the responsibilities of an 8 year-old again.
I want to go to McDonald's and think that it's a four star restaurant.
I want to sail sticks across a fresh mud puddle and make a sidewalk with rocks.
I want to think M&Ms are better than money because you can eat them.
I want to lie under a big oak tree and run a lemonade stand with my friends on a hot summer's day.
I want to return to a time when life was simple; When all you knew were colors, multiplication tables, and nursery rhymes, but that didn't bother you, because you didn't know what you didn't know and you didn't care. All you knew was to be happy because you were blissfully unaware of all the things that should make you worried or upset.
I want to think the world is fair. That everyone is honest and good.
I want to believe that anything is possible.
I want to be oblivious to the complexities of life and be overly excited by the little things again.
I want to live simple again. I don't want my day to consist of computer crashes, mountains of paperwork, depressing news, how to survive more days in the month than there is money in the bank, doctor bills, gossip, illness, and loss of loved ones.
I want to believe in the power of smiles, hugs, a kind word, truth, justice, peace, dreams, the imagination, mankind, and making angels in the snow.
So . . . here's my checkbook and my car-keys, my credit card bills and my Income Tax Return.
I am officially resigning from adulthood.
Friday, June 08, 2007
Finally - A New Post
I have been remiss in my blogging duties as of late and for that I am truly sorry.... well kind of... anyways....
Frodo the Frog has escaped. It has been a month. I do not hold out any hope of finding the little fellow at this point. There is a good chance that there is a little beef jerky styled fire bellied toad
somewhere in my upstairs bathroom. I will miss Frodo.
Oh Frodo.
You were a toad
You liked to eat crickets,
liked your little abode
So I thought.
Till you escaped one night
and never came home
You’re not really that bright.
This I know.
So juicy and yummy
I had so many crickets
To fill your fired tummy.
But you left.
Now I have an empty home
sitting on a shelf
with no toad to call its own.
Goodbye Frodo.
Over and above that - a funny little story about a skunk. The other day our neighbour pops his head over the fence and in his Russian accent asks;
"Uhhh. You know anything ‘bout da skunk?"
"Um. I know they tend to be stinky from one end more than most. Why?" (turn to look)
HOLY MOTHER OF GOD. WTF?
Standing there is Frank - resplendent is his garden boots and hat displaying a cage and inside said cage a wee skunk. The skunk did not appear to be amused. Frank, on the other hand, appeared not only to be quite proud of himself for catching him but also rather smitten with the little fellow. He was sure that the skunk was also rather fond of him since it was accepting the odd table scrap from him (but failed to notice that the second it snatched the food it aimed it’s "stinky end" in Frank’s general direction)
"Frank, this might appear to be just a baby, but it can still spray."
"You think?"
(then in the background from his wife... "OF COURSE IT CAN SPRAY. IDIOT. IT’S A GUNK. GUNK’S SPRAY - SWAT THEY DO....idiot.")
Frank turns and grins, "She crazy. Thyroid."
Umhummm. Not YOU that’s crazy Frank. That’s obvious.
***
This was several days ago. The area around our house smells like a "GUNK" exploded but Frank insists it wasn’t HIS skunk - it was someone elses’. Riiiiight. I also overheard him explaining to Mary that he intended to keep the GUNK as a pet. This should be interesting.
Frodo the Frog has escaped. It has been a month. I do not hold out any hope of finding the little fellow at this point. There is a good chance that there is a little beef jerky styled fire bellied toad
somewhere in my upstairs bathroom. I will miss Frodo.
Oh Frodo.
You were a toad
You liked to eat crickets,
liked your little abode
So I thought.
Till you escaped one night
and never came home
You’re not really that bright.
This I know.
So juicy and yummy
I had so many crickets
To fill your fired tummy.
But you left.
Now I have an empty home
sitting on a shelf
with no toad to call its own.
Goodbye Frodo.
Over and above that - a funny little story about a skunk. The other day our neighbour pops his head over the fence and in his Russian accent asks;
"Uhhh. You know anything ‘bout da skunk?"
"Um. I know they tend to be stinky from one end more than most. Why?" (turn to look)
HOLY MOTHER OF GOD. WTF?
Standing there is Frank - resplendent is his garden boots and hat displaying a cage and inside said cage a wee skunk. The skunk did not appear to be amused. Frank, on the other hand, appeared not only to be quite proud of himself for catching him but also rather smitten with the little fellow. He was sure that the skunk was also rather fond of him since it was accepting the odd table scrap from him (but failed to notice that the second it snatched the food it aimed it’s "stinky end" in Frank’s general direction)
"Frank, this might appear to be just a baby, but it can still spray."
"You think?"
(then in the background from his wife... "OF COURSE IT CAN SPRAY. IDIOT. IT’S A GUNK. GUNK’S SPRAY - SWAT THEY DO....idiot.")
Frank turns and grins, "She crazy. Thyroid."
Umhummm. Not YOU that’s crazy Frank. That’s obvious.
***
This was several days ago. The area around our house smells like a "GUNK" exploded but Frank insists it wasn’t HIS skunk - it was someone elses’. Riiiiight. I also overheard him explaining to Mary that he intended to keep the GUNK as a pet. This should be interesting.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
The adventures of Liz and Carrie continue...
Everywhere was like a picture post card.
What a fun trip. This was one of the most incredibly beautiful places on earth (see for yourself). The first day I got there my friend and I stayed in Calgary for the night at the Fairmont Palliser. This place is heaven. I endeavour to make enough money to live there a few months out of every year. It was absolutely fabulous. We went out for a fantastic
dinner and I ate enough to nearly burst - a must for every vacation - and drank enough wine that we had to stumble back to our nightly abode.
The second day found us on our way to Banff for the day...us three giggling pals gallivanted around a little park looking for bears but only found picket pups. I learned to speak with them and despite many failed attempts continued to try to catch one for a good hour (this entertained both of my friends... as well as the picket pups...). I also entertained the other tourists by wearing "antennae" made of blades of grass.
The second day found us on our way to Banff for the day...us three giggling pals gallivanted around a little park looking for bears but only found picket pups. I learned to speak with them and despite many failed attempts continued to try to catch one for a good hour (this entertained both of my friends... as well as the picket pups...). I also entertained the other tourists by wearing "antennae" made of blades of grass.
Everywhere was like a picture post card.
I'm BaaAAaack....
...very shortly I will fill you up with all of the stories of the shenanigans that resulted from my most recent trip.
But for now... I will tell you that, I learned to speak "ELK" and be at one with the picket pups. I also did a fair amount of drinking and fondue eating. (I am paying for both). I also visited the holy Lulu in Ban'f''f' and enjoyed my plane ride home (THAT is a whole story unto itself) sporting my "sporting" clothing and feeling very cool. I also ate way too much and will now have to dine on only lettuce and water for a few weeks (so that the Lulu still fits, lol).
But for now... I will tell you that, I learned to speak "ELK" and be at one with the picket pups
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
I am packing away suitcases full of shoes for my trip westward. I don't know why it is but - when I go on vacation I have to bring an entire suitcase of shoes. Surely this isn't a normal thing to do? I could be on an island starving and someone could offer me food or really nice shoes...I'd have to pick the shoes hands down. I'm sure there's a name for this disorder.
So the next few days will be a whirlwind of greatly anticipated events (most of which will include some really tasty beverages of the alcoholic variety). I'm sure there will be some photographs following these events that I will post right here *pat pat* on my loverly blog. My big brother will get married to the most incredible woman ever - way to go bro - and fun will be had by all.
This has been quite the year folks... and as of the beginning of May-- I am one year out of my old life. Now I actually get to decide for myself what my life will consist of - and not to get to deep there people my new life will consist mostly of shoes, ill mannered pets, wonderful friends, a new job and some tequila. It is a life like no other and I am glad it is mine.
Thanks for putting up with me!
Monday, May 07, 2007
When Will I Learn
Okay. Some things are just not a good idea. For instance: Tandoori Sizzler Doritos.
Imagine, if you will, a Doritos style chip but lightly coated with crushed mealy worms, maybe a light dusting of some sparrow vomit for good measure. Okay, maybe not. But just about as horrific an experience. Maybe a bit worse. I implore you - do not venture forth thinking you are feeling adventurous and pick yourself up a bag; you may wish you were dead as a result. (aaaand, if YOU don't wish you were dead - anyone nearby that smells your breath may help you out in that department).
Other bad food ideas:
Pastry stuffed with sewage.
Roast porcupine (with quills) with a hint of eucalyptus oil.
Battered deep fried cockroaches with a side of lime.
And someone gets paid for this people. I need a new line of work...
Imagine, if you will, a Doritos style chip but lightly coated with crushed mealy worms, maybe a light dusting of some sparrow vomit for good measure. Okay, maybe not. But just about as horrific an experience. Maybe a bit worse. I implore you - do not venture forth thinking you are feeling adventurous and pick yourself up a bag; you may wish you were dead as a result. (aaaand, if YOU don't wish you were dead - anyone nearby that smells your breath may help you out in that department).
Other bad food ideas:
Pastry stuffed with sewage.
Roast porcupine (with quills) with a hint of eucalyptus oil.
Battered deep fried cockroaches with a side of lime.
And someone gets paid for this people. I need a new line of work...
Friday, May 04, 2007
A bit more of the story...
It's always interesting to run into people from highschool (some of whom you wish you could have run into with your car). Better yet - it's funny to run into the "mean girl" and see that she is no longer a goddess. Not only is she no longer a goddess - but she has four children who resemble terrorists. On this particular day - in the boutique de Wallmart - when I ran into my arch nemesis from highschool my two normally busy and sometimes misbehaved children were absolute angels. I may have promised my soul to the devil in exchange for this one moment - and I don't regret it for an instant.
Not only did she look about 50 years older than she should have, but her previously long luxurious light blonde hair was now blunt cut, greasy and a mouse brown. I take such pleasure in being petty. To make my day feel even more of a triumph - I just happened to be wearing a very flattering outfit and having a fabulous hair day. I was all sparkly and... strangely managed to escape the house without a single cheerio or gummy bear affixed to my person. A good day - a great day. The planets aligned. Not only did all of those hours on the elliptical pay off in that moment - but somehow I managed to get over all of the nasty things this girl did and even manage to find an ounce of pity to bestow upon her (albeit in a very condescending fashion, lol).
Just remember girls; if you're mean to someone in Girl Guides - maybe not today - maybe not tomorrow - but someday what goes around comes back around. SHABAM.
Not only did she look about 50 years older than she should have, but her previously long luxurious light blonde hair was now blunt cut, greasy and a mouse brown. I take such pleasure in being petty. To make my day feel even more of a triumph - I just happened to be wearing a very flattering outfit and having a fabulous hair day. I was all sparkly and... strangely managed to escape the house without a single cheerio or gummy bear affixed to my person. A good day - a great day. The planets aligned. Not only did all of those hours on the elliptical pay off in that moment - but somehow I managed to get over all of the nasty things this girl did and even manage to find an ounce of pity to bestow upon her (albeit in a very condescending fashion, lol).
Just remember girls; if you're mean to someone in Girl Guides - maybe not today - maybe not tomorrow - but someday what goes around comes back around. SHABAM.
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
Life's Like That
So the short people have been vomiting. I actually found myself at three a.m. cleaning vomit out of my 5 year old son's ear. In all my visions of mommy-hood I can definitely say that without a doubt this didn't factor in. Poor little tot. The most heartbreaking of moments came when it was time to slip back into the recently de-puked bed and go back to sleep - the holy teddy had a throw-up encrusted head. Again...not nice. So with much coaxing and soothing I managed to get him to accept 50 other stuffed stand in's while teddy was given an impromptu romp in the washing machine. Now he smells like Downy - and this is so, so much better. I - on the other hand - am quite sure that no matter how many showers I have I will forever forth smell of sick. Sure of it.
Monday, April 23, 2007
I am a |
"Mischief is your middle name, but your first is friend. You are quite the prankster that loves to make other people laugh."
Thursday, April 19, 2007
A little bit more of the mom story...
*some events are based on my experiences but this is pure fiction...hope you like!
Wednesday, February 8th 2006 7:30 am - Savoring delicious bucket of very strong coffee. When all else fails I still have my coffee. Imagine that during my gym assessment they dared to suggest that if I was to correct my nutrition that I may wish to swap my coffee creamer for skim milk! She allowed it in the end because I wouldn’t stop crying and holding her ankles. I can work out on evil machine designed with torture in mind as long as they let me have my coffee the way I like it. Do however, wish that fat bald man would stop staring at me on the elliptical.
Note to self - have someone repair the scale at the gym. It is terrible and vile.
9:00 pm - Awed and dismayed by husbands attitude towards Visa bill. Doesn’t understand purpose of buying toddler $55.00 jeans from boutique. Imagine. I had to plead my case that obviously she needed said jeans since otherwise what would she wear the $43.00 blouse and $60.00 shoes with from the matching line?! He didn’t seem to feel better so I kept the other items purchased from same place to myself. But really - I mean they are mix and match so I don’t see his point.
Thursday February 9, 2006- early morning. Eyes too tired to look up at clock. Imagine somewhere in the realm of 4 am.
Am quite sure today is the day that all of my sweating blood and fantastic work out regimen will payoff tenfold - someone will repair the scale and I will find I have lost 20 pounds and am svelte and sex goddess-like. Surely my hours of backbreaking exercise must have been for something other than the amusement of the bald lecherous fellow who stares at me the entire time I am there. Will surely also be the day that my daughter finally settles into the daycare without screaming until she pukes and all of the mother’s with perfect children can stop pointing and staring at me. Yes, I have a great feeling about today.
Mid morning - lazy gym people say that the scale is correct. Know they are lying and just don’t feel like fixing it. Will go forward on the assumption that have reached goal weight and celebrate by taking myself out for delicious lunch. Unfortunately will have to eat it in the car since I have to pick my son up in 20 minutes. Will settle on baked potato and chicken sandwich. I am very proud of my new and improved healthy choices.
Friday February 10, 2006 - 10 :00 am - Today is day to check in with my fabulous fitness guru and time to display my new physique. Will proudly list off last weeks meals with zeal and fully appreciate the pats on the back I receive for being so full of will power.
10:45 am -Fitness Nazi says that the extra sour cream and butter on potato and mayo on chicken account for more caloric intake than is suggested for an entire day. Also reprimanded for white bread even though I argued that it is actually kind of yellow. Don’t want to tell you what she said about the large pop. It was just rude.
Have gained 3 pounds but surely this is due to muscle weighing more than fat and looming period. Also, lady at daycare said my daughter is too demanding and perhaps not ready to be separated from Mommy. After much groveling (and a hundred bucks) she agreed to take her back but only for ½ an hour a day until she got over this separation anxiety and stopped biting the other children. All other Mother’s of perfect children come rushing forward with advice. Wish they would all take their perfect children (who are likely drugged) and piss off.
Am off to Mother’s for the weekend to loll in self pity.
Monday February 13, 2006- Mother has all of these lovely scented candles that she occasionally lights and decided to do so (about 3,000 of them) while I stayed this weekend. At first I watched thinking I might witness something amusing like her setting her hair ablaze but when the whole thing seemed to be progressing in a normal fashion - I glanced away. (I should know better). I look back seconds later to find my Mother banging her hand on the table and dancing in this odd panicky sort of fashion in manner of schizoid attending a rave. An odd smell permeated the room (scented candle?) and she continued her spastic dance. (I wasn't entirely sure at this point if assistance was required or if she was listening to the only song on her new mp3 player again - another story that I find terribly amusing...) Moments later she collapsed in a heap on the couch beside me and let out a sigh of relief - and then turned to display the remnant of her previously perfectly manicured thumbnail that had only seconds before been on fire. Well. That explains everything doesn't it. One of many lessons learned that evening and possible most important - Mother should not be allowed near any source of flame or heat. (Also, might need dance lessons.)
8:45 pm - Shit. Shit shit shit. Just realized tomorrow is Valentine’s Day neglected to get my poor husband anything. In morning, must make mad dash to grocery store and purchase Maxim magazine and something with cars in it. Sure to be forgiven when apology is made by presenting half clad women and cars with very delicious romantic meal…..
Tuesday February 14th 2006 - Saint Valentines Day
6:15 am. Have been awake since 3:00 am with very sick little boy. How can someone so small throw up so much? Poor thing. No way to take him shopping in this condition. At least his sister got to practice finger painting. (and if that doesn’t kill you…) Will have to make due with whatever I have in the house.
6:30 pm - Finally got William to stop vomiting long enough to watch Barney. Have managed to locate delicious instant side dishes that I think will compliment each other quite well. The menu for the evening consists of Hamburger Helper (but no beef so with hotdogs instead), some sort of New Orleans style rice dish, dinobuddies and some lovely sort of filo encased desserts. (Can’t remember what’s in them since just found in plastic zip lock in freezer but am sure are quite lovely.)
9:00 pm - Hint; don’t pair Hamburger Helper with hotdogs. Filo desserts turned out to be stuffed with Salmon. Would have been fine except for the chocolate sauce (found one thing that doesn‘t taste better with chocolate). Total disaster. Caroline is throwing up now too. Quite surprised I didn’t when I tasted “dessert”. Lovely husband brought home exquisite roses - that I had to lock in the master bathroom so the kids couldn’t destroy them. Also, was lovely enough to tell me he liked dinner very much and even thought the dessert was interesting. Must make this up to him someday.
Wednesday February something - gawd knows what time it is and who cares anyways. Am delirious from another night of puking children. Have started leaving buckets and containers all over the house as puke receptacles since I have run out of carpet cleaner and energy.
Thursday February (I think) - am delirious from lack of sleep and even though children are better now - I am sick instead. Will lie shamelessly to gym Nazi and tell her any weight loss is because I have worked so hard this week….
Monday February 19, 2006 - 8:45 am Dropped son off at school and am off to gym to accomplish great things. Having very skinny day and this is very encouraging. Hate the Mother at the gym who has 4 month old and is very surely a size 2. Totally unfair and sickening. Takes me back a ways…all was going along well in my first pregnancy until I hit month 6. Then am quite convinced my son steadily gained 3 pounds a week until the very end. Very unfair.
After delivery (yeegawts!) was very pregnant looking for many months and had very squishy stomach. Very unfortunate for me the woman in my shared room immediately deflated and looked all glowy and cheerful. I really felt and looked like I had been run over by a large truck. All the nurses kept double takes when they looked at my face and then sort of wouldn‘t make eye contact. Sort of wish I could have been anesthetized for the entire experience and not woken up until I had my old body back. But, then I guess I would still be sleeping… Actually quite depressed about remembering my old figure. Perhaps I should have a gastric bypass. Think I shall call the doctor to discuss this option…
pm - Doctor claims I am not a candidate for such surgery as one must be morbidly obese. I’m too fat but not fat enough. Very unfair all things considered. Might as well go rent a chick flick and settle in for an evening of self-loathing. Perhaps some hagen daas is in order.
Tuesday February 20, 2006 - am - Mother called this morning to entertain me during coffee. Apparently the old lady next door wandered into her back yard in the middle of the night naked and flailing her arms around like flightless bird. Mum failed to realize this was the woman next door in a fit of dementia and in state of sheer panic called police. Police showed up and presented Mum with little old lady next door looking harmless with a sheet wrapped around her. Although obviously confused, the police officer reminded her of her dear departed husband and she was smitten - at least the experience wasn‘t negative for everyone. All of the commotion woke the surrounding neighbors and Mum with forever forth be known as the woman who sicked the police on dear old Ethel. Mum called into work had an Ativan omelette for breakfast and went to bed until dinner. I don’t think she will ever truly recover from this experience. (I was going to ask if she was wearing the dress and runners but I was afraid she’d never speak to me again.)
pm - Would normally be asleep but Mother convinced me to try “homemade sugaring technique” she read about in some very reliable place. Should have definitely known better but tried it despite misgivings. Am now covered in raised red itchy rash everywhere it touched me. Unfortunately for me I decided to wax my bikini line. This should only be done under general anesthetic in the first place - but now to add insult to injury I have to walk like I am riding a Clydesdale. I cannot sleep and my eyes are swelling shut. (Also doesn’t help that my husband can’t stop from laughing every time he looks at me and can’t give evil eye due to puffiness.)
Wednesday February 21, 2006 - Swelling has reduced enough that I can now walk like am riding largish goat or small pony. One benefit to attempted hair removal around mouth is - there is a striking resemblance to Angelina Jolie (if you look at me in a dimly lit room slightly cross-eyed). Children still have no idea who I am...
Thursday February 22, 2006 - Right as rain today. Except that I’d like to think I still look like Angelina Jolie. (That little bubble burst when the eye swelling went down and I could actually see.)
Wednesday, February 8th 2006 7:30 am - Savoring delicious bucket of very strong coffee. When all else fails I still have my coffee. Imagine that during my gym assessment they dared to suggest that if I was to correct my nutrition that I may wish to swap my coffee creamer for skim milk! She allowed it in the end because I wouldn’t stop crying and holding her ankles. I can work out on evil machine designed with torture in mind as long as they let me have my coffee the way I like it. Do however, wish that fat bald man would stop staring at me on the elliptical.
Note to self - have someone repair the scale at the gym. It is terrible and vile.
9:00 pm - Awed and dismayed by husbands attitude towards Visa bill. Doesn’t understand purpose of buying toddler $55.00 jeans from boutique. Imagine. I had to plead my case that obviously she needed said jeans since otherwise what would she wear the $43.00 blouse and $60.00 shoes with from the matching line?! He didn’t seem to feel better so I kept the other items purchased from same place to myself. But really - I mean they are mix and match so I don’t see his point.
Thursday February 9, 2006- early morning. Eyes too tired to look up at clock. Imagine somewhere in the realm of 4 am.
Am quite sure today is the day that all of my sweating blood and fantastic work out regimen will payoff tenfold - someone will repair the scale and I will find I have lost 20 pounds and am svelte and sex goddess-like. Surely my hours of backbreaking exercise must have been for something other than the amusement of the bald lecherous fellow who stares at me the entire time I am there. Will surely also be the day that my daughter finally settles into the daycare without screaming until she pukes and all of the mother’s with perfect children can stop pointing and staring at me. Yes, I have a great feeling about today.
Mid morning - lazy gym people say that the scale is correct. Know they are lying and just don’t feel like fixing it. Will go forward on the assumption that have reached goal weight and celebrate by taking myself out for delicious lunch. Unfortunately will have to eat it in the car since I have to pick my son up in 20 minutes. Will settle on baked potato and chicken sandwich. I am very proud of my new and improved healthy choices.
Friday February 10, 2006 - 10 :00 am - Today is day to check in with my fabulous fitness guru and time to display my new physique. Will proudly list off last weeks meals with zeal and fully appreciate the pats on the back I receive for being so full of will power.
10:45 am -Fitness Nazi says that the extra sour cream and butter on potato and mayo on chicken account for more caloric intake than is suggested for an entire day. Also reprimanded for white bread even though I argued that it is actually kind of yellow. Don’t want to tell you what she said about the large pop. It was just rude.
Have gained 3 pounds but surely this is due to muscle weighing more than fat and looming period. Also, lady at daycare said my daughter is too demanding and perhaps not ready to be separated from Mommy. After much groveling (and a hundred bucks) she agreed to take her back but only for ½ an hour a day until she got over this separation anxiety and stopped biting the other children. All other Mother’s of perfect children come rushing forward with advice. Wish they would all take their perfect children (who are likely drugged) and piss off.
Am off to Mother’s for the weekend to loll in self pity.
Monday February 13, 2006- Mother has all of these lovely scented candles that she occasionally lights and decided to do so (about 3,000 of them) while I stayed this weekend. At first I watched thinking I might witness something amusing like her setting her hair ablaze but when the whole thing seemed to be progressing in a normal fashion - I glanced away. (I should know better). I look back seconds later to find my Mother banging her hand on the table and dancing in this odd panicky sort of fashion in manner of schizoid attending a rave. An odd smell permeated the room (scented candle?) and she continued her spastic dance. (I wasn't entirely sure at this point if assistance was required or if she was listening to the only song on her new mp3 player again - another story that I find terribly amusing...) Moments later she collapsed in a heap on the couch beside me and let out a sigh of relief - and then turned to display the remnant of her previously perfectly manicured thumbnail that had only seconds before been on fire. Well. That explains everything doesn't it. One of many lessons learned that evening and possible most important - Mother should not be allowed near any source of flame or heat. (Also, might need dance lessons.)
8:45 pm - Shit. Shit shit shit. Just realized tomorrow is Valentine’s Day neglected to get my poor husband anything. In morning, must make mad dash to grocery store and purchase Maxim magazine and something with cars in it. Sure to be forgiven when apology is made by presenting half clad women and cars with very delicious romantic meal…..
Tuesday February 14th 2006 - Saint Valentines Day
6:15 am. Have been awake since 3:00 am with very sick little boy. How can someone so small throw up so much? Poor thing. No way to take him shopping in this condition. At least his sister got to practice finger painting. (and if that doesn’t kill you…) Will have to make due with whatever I have in the house.
6:30 pm - Finally got William to stop vomiting long enough to watch Barney. Have managed to locate delicious instant side dishes that I think will compliment each other quite well. The menu for the evening consists of Hamburger Helper (but no beef so with hotdogs instead), some sort of New Orleans style rice dish, dinobuddies and some lovely sort of filo encased desserts. (Can’t remember what’s in them since just found in plastic zip lock in freezer but am sure are quite lovely.)
9:00 pm - Hint; don’t pair Hamburger Helper with hotdogs. Filo desserts turned out to be stuffed with Salmon. Would have been fine except for the chocolate sauce (found one thing that doesn‘t taste better with chocolate). Total disaster. Caroline is throwing up now too. Quite surprised I didn’t when I tasted “dessert”. Lovely husband brought home exquisite roses - that I had to lock in the master bathroom so the kids couldn’t destroy them. Also, was lovely enough to tell me he liked dinner very much and even thought the dessert was interesting. Must make this up to him someday.
Wednesday February something - gawd knows what time it is and who cares anyways. Am delirious from another night of puking children. Have started leaving buckets and containers all over the house as puke receptacles since I have run out of carpet cleaner and energy.
Thursday February (I think) - am delirious from lack of sleep and even though children are better now - I am sick instead. Will lie shamelessly to gym Nazi and tell her any weight loss is because I have worked so hard this week….
Monday February 19, 2006 - 8:45 am Dropped son off at school and am off to gym to accomplish great things. Having very skinny day and this is very encouraging. Hate the Mother at the gym who has 4 month old and is very surely a size 2. Totally unfair and sickening. Takes me back a ways…all was going along well in my first pregnancy until I hit month 6. Then am quite convinced my son steadily gained 3 pounds a week until the very end. Very unfair.
After delivery (yeegawts!) was very pregnant looking for many months and had very squishy stomach. Very unfortunate for me the woman in my shared room immediately deflated and looked all glowy and cheerful. I really felt and looked like I had been run over by a large truck. All the nurses kept double takes when they looked at my face and then sort of wouldn‘t make eye contact. Sort of wish I could have been anesthetized for the entire experience and not woken up until I had my old body back. But, then I guess I would still be sleeping… Actually quite depressed about remembering my old figure. Perhaps I should have a gastric bypass. Think I shall call the doctor to discuss this option…
pm - Doctor claims I am not a candidate for such surgery as one must be morbidly obese. I’m too fat but not fat enough. Very unfair all things considered. Might as well go rent a chick flick and settle in for an evening of self-loathing. Perhaps some hagen daas is in order.
Tuesday February 20, 2006 - am - Mother called this morning to entertain me during coffee. Apparently the old lady next door wandered into her back yard in the middle of the night naked and flailing her arms around like flightless bird. Mum failed to realize this was the woman next door in a fit of dementia and in state of sheer panic called police. Police showed up and presented Mum with little old lady next door looking harmless with a sheet wrapped around her. Although obviously confused, the police officer reminded her of her dear departed husband and she was smitten - at least the experience wasn‘t negative for everyone. All of the commotion woke the surrounding neighbors and Mum with forever forth be known as the woman who sicked the police on dear old Ethel. Mum called into work had an Ativan omelette for breakfast and went to bed until dinner. I don’t think she will ever truly recover from this experience. (I was going to ask if she was wearing the dress and runners but I was afraid she’d never speak to me again.)
pm - Would normally be asleep but Mother convinced me to try “homemade sugaring technique” she read about in some very reliable place. Should have definitely known better but tried it despite misgivings. Am now covered in raised red itchy rash everywhere it touched me. Unfortunately for me I decided to wax my bikini line. This should only be done under general anesthetic in the first place - but now to add insult to injury I have to walk like I am riding a Clydesdale. I cannot sleep and my eyes are swelling shut. (Also doesn’t help that my husband can’t stop from laughing every time he looks at me and can’t give evil eye due to puffiness.)
Wednesday February 21, 2006 - Swelling has reduced enough that I can now walk like am riding largish goat or small pony. One benefit to attempted hair removal around mouth is - there is a striking resemblance to Angelina Jolie (if you look at me in a dimly lit room slightly cross-eyed). Children still have no idea who I am...
Thursday February 22, 2006 - Right as rain today. Except that I’d like to think I still look like Angelina Jolie. (That little bubble burst when the eye swelling went down and I could actually see.)
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Saturday, April 14, 2007
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