The house is quiet. I just washed two bottles and placed them on the bottle rack to dry. No sterilizer anymore.
And for some reason, I thought back to last year.
16 bottles a day. 8 bottles/day per baby. That's a lot of bottles to wash.
Right now, I would have been mixing the next day's pitcher of formula. I would make 64 ounces of formula at a time because there was no time. I would get the first few sets of bottles poured so I wouldn't have to at the last minute.
You know...
I love washing only two bottles. I love reaching for the whole milk. I love that the sterilizer is not cluttering the counter anymore. I love that the checkout lady at Costco doesn't look at me weird because I am buying four large cans of formula and she knows that she just saw me buy four cans two weeks before.
***
I love that they still smell like babies without being baby babies.
I love that they smile because they are laughing or happy and not because they have gas.
I love that they are more mobile, more interactive, more interesting.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Nothing to Get Hung About?
This is the second Saturday in a month where I have attempted to do something fun with my kids and had it not go great. You know, I am feeling totally inadequate. I seriously get nervous as I put them all the minivan. In fact, today, I prayed. I said, "Please God. Don't let anyone get sick on the way there or throw up or scream or die or generally embarrass me. Please let us get through this unscathed."
I am scathed.
Can I never leave without some incident? Without regretting that I didn't just put on Wonder Pets and play with the twins?
Two Saturdays ago. We went to a park that was on a trail in Claremont. Cutest park EVER. I see it on runs for EB and I always think "GEE WIZ, that park would rock Lulo's world."
Yeah, RIGHT. We got there and all he said was "I want to go home, I want to go home." He chanted it. Jojo's nose began running like a faucet. Juju ate dirt when I was distracted cleaning Jojo's nose and telling Lulo to knock the WHINING OFF. We went home.
Today, I took them all to a strawberry field so we could get out, get some fresh air, pick strawberries. Go home, eat strawberries. Woohoo. Sounds harmless. Right? OK. It was going SOOOO WELL!! Lulo participated. Not a PEEP from the twins. They were mesmerized. Lulo picked a ton of strawberries. Spotted them. Pulled on them. Smooshed a few. But mostly fun times!!
Yeah, two BOXES of strawberries picked. Happy, dirty Lulo with a box of strawberries on his lap clutching each side of the box with his pink tinted hands from the strawberries that didn't make the cut (literally). Happy twins. Nanny and I give each other a look and a sigh...thinking...ok, that went good.
"Living is easy with eyes closed..."
So, I go to pay. We need to weigh the strawberries because just because you pick them yourself doesn't mean they are free. It is $2.99/lb. I take the box from Lulo.
ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE.
He chants (at HIGH VOLUME):
"I want the strawberries.
Give me the strawberries."
Shrieking, whining, screaming in the middle of the Farm Store.
I give them back to him and the nice lady gives us a bag to put the box in so we don't have strawberries everywhere. Makes sense. OH NO. God FORBID we put the box in a bag. Strawberries fly everywhere. He screams and cries - his face turns pink with strawberry juice and tears. Nanny picks up strawberries, I quickly pay, we scurry them out. Get them all in car seats. Clean hands. Confiscate strawberries (again) because all we need is strawberry juice staining the inside of our leased minivan. Lulo cries the entire drive home. Throws a FIT when we get home. J give him strawberries. I try to get him to the table for dinner luring him with clean and CUT strawberries. COMPLETE AND TOTAL MELTDOWN. He wanted me to FIX the strawberries. Really? I have to fix them. Why didn't your father have to fix the ones HE cut for you?
Why?
WHY?
Why can't this be easier?
I can't just stay indoors at all times just to avoid these situations. But, the only reward I get from going outside is screaming, tears...fighting with J, frustration with Lulo, frustration with myself. Guilt about losing my temper with Lulo after his FIT. After all - he is JUST a kid. He is just having difficult EXPRESSING HIMSELF. How will I do this again? and again? Times 3. Two at the same time. Oh my God. There isn't enough wine to get me through it.
Oh, and meanwhile, I read this post the other day by this Mom who has triplets. It is written by a blogger that I don't know at all but I always like reading her blog. I like her writing style and the way she weaves her Faith in God with the raising of her children. Anyhow, she talks about how when her triplets were born she was certain she wouldn't go anywhere alone with them but by four months she was taking them on walks alone. She also says the following as she ponders the advice she'd give to a soon-to-be Mom of triplets:
"I wish she understood how confidence building it would be for her as a mother to realize that she could care for them alone. I am sure it would shock her to know how quickly she would learn to do things like manage the grocery store with three infants or take them all for vaccinations...."
Um, I can't do that. I won't EVER do that. The thought of taking all three of my kids to the grocery store makes me anxious. I BARELY manage vaccinations with my MIL or nanny with me. What is WRONG with me?
There I was, driving home, nanny, twins, Lulo en tow. Aforementioned post repeating itself in my head. And, I was thinking I have ZERO confidence as a mother. I cannot care for them alone. I cannot even care for them WITH HELP! Lulo confuses me, pushes my buttons, frustrates me. I love him so much and yet I almost don't want to do anything with him for the fear of complete MELTDOWN over strawberries not being on his lap! I mean, how do you predict that?
Saturdays suck. They just make me feel like Monday can't come fast enough. Because on Monday, I have more control. I am confident. I can manage that kind of chaos. I can manage opposing counsel. I can manage clients. I can return e-mails. I can make rain. I can do that all.
But, I can't take my kids to the damn park. I can't fix strawberries.
The only good part of today was seeing his smile, on the strawberry field, his big brown eyes looking at me, proud of his accomplishment - "Another one Mama," while enthusiastically putting the large red strawberry he just picked in our box. Eagerly moving forward looking for his next prize.
Strawberry Fields Forever.
I am scathed.
Can I never leave without some incident? Without regretting that I didn't just put on Wonder Pets and play with the twins?
Two Saturdays ago. We went to a park that was on a trail in Claremont. Cutest park EVER. I see it on runs for EB and I always think "GEE WIZ, that park would rock Lulo's world."
Yeah, RIGHT. We got there and all he said was "I want to go home, I want to go home." He chanted it. Jojo's nose began running like a faucet. Juju ate dirt when I was distracted cleaning Jojo's nose and telling Lulo to knock the WHINING OFF. We went home.
Today, I took them all to a strawberry field so we could get out, get some fresh air, pick strawberries. Go home, eat strawberries. Woohoo. Sounds harmless. Right? OK. It was going SOOOO WELL!! Lulo participated. Not a PEEP from the twins. They were mesmerized. Lulo picked a ton of strawberries. Spotted them. Pulled on them. Smooshed a few. But mostly fun times!!
Yeah, two BOXES of strawberries picked. Happy, dirty Lulo with a box of strawberries on his lap clutching each side of the box with his pink tinted hands from the strawberries that didn't make the cut (literally). Happy twins. Nanny and I give each other a look and a sigh...thinking...ok, that went good.
"Living is easy with eyes closed..."
So, I go to pay. We need to weigh the strawberries because just because you pick them yourself doesn't mean they are free. It is $2.99/lb. I take the box from Lulo.
ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE.
He chants (at HIGH VOLUME):
"I want the strawberries.
Give me the strawberries."
Shrieking, whining, screaming in the middle of the Farm Store.
I give them back to him and the nice lady gives us a bag to put the box in so we don't have strawberries everywhere. Makes sense. OH NO. God FORBID we put the box in a bag. Strawberries fly everywhere. He screams and cries - his face turns pink with strawberry juice and tears. Nanny picks up strawberries, I quickly pay, we scurry them out. Get them all in car seats. Clean hands. Confiscate strawberries (again) because all we need is strawberry juice staining the inside of our leased minivan. Lulo cries the entire drive home. Throws a FIT when we get home. J give him strawberries. I try to get him to the table for dinner luring him with clean and CUT strawberries. COMPLETE AND TOTAL MELTDOWN. He wanted me to FIX the strawberries. Really? I have to fix them. Why didn't your father have to fix the ones HE cut for you?
Why?
WHY?
Why can't this be easier?
I can't just stay indoors at all times just to avoid these situations. But, the only reward I get from going outside is screaming, tears...fighting with J, frustration with Lulo, frustration with myself. Guilt about losing my temper with Lulo after his FIT. After all - he is JUST a kid. He is just having difficult EXPRESSING HIMSELF. How will I do this again? and again? Times 3. Two at the same time. Oh my God. There isn't enough wine to get me through it.
Oh, and meanwhile, I read this post the other day by this Mom who has triplets. It is written by a blogger that I don't know at all but I always like reading her blog. I like her writing style and the way she weaves her Faith in God with the raising of her children. Anyhow, she talks about how when her triplets were born she was certain she wouldn't go anywhere alone with them but by four months she was taking them on walks alone. She also says the following as she ponders the advice she'd give to a soon-to-be Mom of triplets:
"I wish she understood how confidence building it would be for her as a mother to realize that she could care for them alone. I am sure it would shock her to know how quickly she would learn to do things like manage the grocery store with three infants or take them all for vaccinations...."
Um, I can't do that. I won't EVER do that. The thought of taking all three of my kids to the grocery store makes me anxious. I BARELY manage vaccinations with my MIL or nanny with me. What is WRONG with me?
There I was, driving home, nanny, twins, Lulo en tow. Aforementioned post repeating itself in my head. And, I was thinking I have ZERO confidence as a mother. I cannot care for them alone. I cannot even care for them WITH HELP! Lulo confuses me, pushes my buttons, frustrates me. I love him so much and yet I almost don't want to do anything with him for the fear of complete MELTDOWN over strawberries not being on his lap! I mean, how do you predict that?
Saturdays suck. They just make me feel like Monday can't come fast enough. Because on Monday, I have more control. I am confident. I can manage that kind of chaos. I can manage opposing counsel. I can manage clients. I can return e-mails. I can make rain. I can do that all.
But, I can't take my kids to the damn park. I can't fix strawberries.
The only good part of today was seeing his smile, on the strawberry field, his big brown eyes looking at me, proud of his accomplishment - "Another one Mama," while enthusiastically putting the large red strawberry he just picked in our box. Eagerly moving forward looking for his next prize.
Strawberry Fields Forever.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Why the Giraffe Can't Dance
I read this book to Lulo sometimes called "Giraffes Can't Dance" by Giles Andreae and Guy Parker-Rees. It is a great little book about this giraffe who...um....what was it....oh yeah, the giraffe CAN'T dance.
Giraffes are actually my favorite animal in the whole world. I can say this with confidence because when I went to Africa on safari I fell in love with them. They are graceful and beautiful and they spoke to me. I don't know why, I just love giraffes.
Anyhow, the giraffe, Gerald, goes to this jungle dance which they hold every year in Africa and he was sort of bummed when he took his turn to dance because he was, well, a spaz. And then this cricket tells him to basically close his eyes and listen to his heart and then he dances so beautifully and gracefully that all the other animals stood and watched him "quite entranced."
I really like this book. I sort of look forward to reading this one with Lulo. It touches my heart and makes my inner giraffe happy.
So, the other day, we are reading this book and he is identifying the various animals as he often does. There is this one picture showing the animals laughing at poor Gerald (see above).
Now, see the circled animal. Yep. That little animal, I think, is a meerkat. (Tell me if it is something else, I am ok with criticism in that regard.)
Then, Lulo CRACKS UP. Hysterical, loud laughter.
Pointing at the circled animal, he screams, "It's a pee pee. It's a pee pee."
More Hysterical Laughter.
Furrowed eyebrows. I am confused. "What Lulo? What is that?" You know, thinking it is some animal I don't know because last week I met my very first tapir...
Then, Lulo CRACKS UP. Hysterical, loud laughter.
Pointing at the circled animal, he screams, "It's a pee pee. It's a pee pee."
More Hysterical Laughter.
Furrowed eyebrows. I am confused. "What Lulo? What is that?" You know, thinking it is some animal I don't know because last week I met my very first tapir...
"IT'S A PEE PEE, MAMA," while pointing to his penis (or rather the penis vicinity of his diaper) and then the circled animal. "It's a pee pee." More Hysterical Laughter.
Seriously, does that look like a penis to ANYONE reading this? Today he did the same thing so I KNOW it wasn't a fluke.
Oh, boys. They start early, don't they?
Oh, boys. They start early, don't they?
Pain in the Neck.
My neck hurts REAL bad. It has been hurting on and off for weeks, maybe months. But it gets better and then it gets worse. I have noticed that even when it feels better (more or less), I do not have the full range of motion in my neck. There is always a position in my neck that hurts. But when it HURTS, it is excruciating. I could cry if I had the time to think about the pain. If you touch my neck - it feels like a rock.
This long weekend I went to my parents' house with the kids and my Dad informed me that I had a muscle spasm and gave me some sttttttttrrrrrong meds - one for pain, one muscle relaxant. Last night, as I tossed and turned, I felt waaay less pain. I woke up today groggy, sleepy, and my neck still hurt. So, to rectify that, I am going take more meds. "Hi There Darvocet. Come to Mama." Fun, fun, fun.
Speaking of neck pain, Lulo is in RARE form. Today started with him kicking the crap out of me because he didn't want to put his shoes on to go to school. So, after WRESTLING with my two year old, I put him in the car sans shoes and figured he would be easier to handle when restrained by his five point harness. Anyone got a 12 point harness? Anyone? Is this thing on?
Yeah, so I wrestled again with him RESTRAINED in a 5 point harness. Won this time. Go me. I can only imagine the other parents in the parking lot. Me, restraining my kid, saying "Stop It" "Chill Out Lulo". You would think that we were both two years old. But, DUDE, he needed to have shoes on. He wailed when we got there, wailed while I was signing him in. Ms. K gave him a hug and he wailed. And then I "left" and watched him through the window. He stopped crying faster than Diego beckons Click the Camera a la Rosie Perez. Is he SERIOUS?
I called after 45 minutes to see if he was ok. "Oh, yeah. He is fine. He is dancing and can't wait to go outside." OK.
I am not understanding Lulo lately. We get home. He naps. He wakes up after 2+ hours. He goes to the park. We eat dinner. He gets angry about the appropriate usage of his fork and flings it at Nanny Extraordinaire. Nice. Puncture wound with your fish?
Then, he WAILS when we are gonna go upstairs so his Dad takes him outside to play. Then, he wails coming up the stairs. Wails in the bath. "I don't wanna take a bath. I don't wanna." Wails getting OUT of the 12 second "bath" I managed to get in. Wails getting dressed. So much so that I just held him while he sobbed. Do they have Midol for 2 year olds? Seriously. I read him something like 300 books in my most calmest and soothing voice. We talked at length about animal noises. I transitioned right before book 299 to let him know we were on the last one. HE WAILS at the end of that. I put him in bed. Leave the room. His crying ceased the MOMENT I left the room. Is he crying because he WANTS me to leave? Is that the pattern we are seeing? Or what? I would honestly rather deal with hungry, pregnant women, in the summer, in Arizona, who are forced to wear wool sweaters. It would be easier.
But...when he is calm and cute - you would NEVER see the wails coming. He describes the things happening in his books. He smells like Johnson's No Tear Shampoo. He has clean little toes. He tells me long stories about the animals on his pajamas. He waddles around like a penguin. He says stuff like, "I love you Mama". And then, BAM...SHRIEK. WAIL. Wha happened to my Lulo?
Hmmm...where is that Darvocet for the pain in my neck?
This long weekend I went to my parents' house with the kids and my Dad informed me that I had a muscle spasm and gave me some sttttttttrrrrrong meds - one for pain, one muscle relaxant. Last night, as I tossed and turned, I felt waaay less pain. I woke up today groggy, sleepy, and my neck still hurt. So, to rectify that, I am going take more meds. "Hi There Darvocet. Come to Mama." Fun, fun, fun.
Speaking of neck pain, Lulo is in RARE form. Today started with him kicking the crap out of me because he didn't want to put his shoes on to go to school. So, after WRESTLING with my two year old, I put him in the car sans shoes and figured he would be easier to handle when restrained by his five point harness. Anyone got a 12 point harness? Anyone? Is this thing on?
Yeah, so I wrestled again with him RESTRAINED in a 5 point harness. Won this time. Go me. I can only imagine the other parents in the parking lot. Me, restraining my kid, saying "Stop It" "Chill Out Lulo". You would think that we were both two years old. But, DUDE, he needed to have shoes on. He wailed when we got there, wailed while I was signing him in. Ms. K gave him a hug and he wailed. And then I "left" and watched him through the window. He stopped crying faster than Diego beckons Click the Camera a la Rosie Perez. Is he SERIOUS?
I called after 45 minutes to see if he was ok. "Oh, yeah. He is fine. He is dancing and can't wait to go outside." OK.
I am not understanding Lulo lately. We get home. He naps. He wakes up after 2+ hours. He goes to the park. We eat dinner. He gets angry about the appropriate usage of his fork and flings it at Nanny Extraordinaire. Nice. Puncture wound with your fish?
Then, he WAILS when we are gonna go upstairs so his Dad takes him outside to play. Then, he wails coming up the stairs. Wails in the bath. "I don't wanna take a bath. I don't wanna." Wails getting OUT of the 12 second "bath" I managed to get in. Wails getting dressed. So much so that I just held him while he sobbed. Do they have Midol for 2 year olds? Seriously. I read him something like 300 books in my most calmest and soothing voice. We talked at length about animal noises. I transitioned right before book 299 to let him know we were on the last one. HE WAILS at the end of that. I put him in bed. Leave the room. His crying ceased the MOMENT I left the room. Is he crying because he WANTS me to leave? Is that the pattern we are seeing? Or what? I would honestly rather deal with hungry, pregnant women, in the summer, in Arizona, who are forced to wear wool sweaters. It would be easier.
But...when he is calm and cute - you would NEVER see the wails coming. He describes the things happening in his books. He smells like Johnson's No Tear Shampoo. He has clean little toes. He tells me long stories about the animals on his pajamas. He waddles around like a penguin. He says stuff like, "I love you Mama". And then, BAM...SHRIEK. WAIL. Wha happened to my Lulo?
Hmmm...where is that Darvocet for the pain in my neck?
Friday, May 22, 2009
She Likes to Move It, Move It
This morning I have listened to the song "Move it" from Madagascar 912 times. The video of the song is on the Special Features option of the Madagascar DVD that Lulo watches while eating his meals. (Don't judge me people, you get him to eat another way if you want to judge.) Typically, I would be very close to calling my Dad for a prescription of some sort of anti-anxiety drug. But, today...
I AM MOVING IT. I have been boogying all morning to this song. Boogying to get Luk his muffins (blueberry, freshly baked, by yours truly, Luk did some vate vate). Shimmying to get his apple. Then mambo-ing to CUT his apple. "Cut the apple, mama, cut the apple." Then, skipping back. Today rocks.
I tested out of boot camp today and the results were pretty good (for me). I am pleased. I feel more cheerful this boot camp than I did last time. I really liked the class more this session. There were more people. It was light out about 10 minutes into class and waaaaaaaaaaay warmer. It is kind of nice not having to run with a sweatshirt and still be cold. The light out really makes it feel so much nicer. And for me, the sun makes me think of summer, then bathing suits, then fat, then I run faster.
I am bursting with appreciation for my instructors. They pretty much rock with their ability to encourage and see when you are improving and pushing you to what they think you can do. Typically, I would think that the attention they are able to pay to each one of us would only be possible with a personal trainer. I had a trainer once. I thought he rocked at the time but seriously; DI-Size0 and DI-MC are better and they have you know 10-15 people every class.
So, the results show. In six weeks, the following changed:
**Push-ups: Still can't do them. Monkey arms + Fat = No Push Ups!
**Sit-ups: I did 35, last time I did 37. This saddened me at first but I am ok; I wanted to do 40. Maybe next time.
**Timed Mile: First session, started at 13M:40S. End of session, 11:09.
Second session, started at 10:39, End of session (TODAY!), 9 MINUTES and 28 SECONDS!
Um, yeah. Seriously. My goal my WHOLE ENTIRE LIFE has been to do a 10 minute mile. What in God's name were my HIGH SCHOOL basketball coaches doing that they couldn't get me to run a 10 minute mile. I am like fatter, older, with 3 kids and I CAME IN BELOW 10 MINUTES. HOLY CANNOLI!!! I know people run like 3 minute miles and woohoo for them. But, this is really good for me. I am SO STOKED.
DI-MC was standing at the end with his timer and he was counting - 10, 11, 12...26, 27, 28. And I thought he was in the 10 minute range. And I was like I JUST WANT TO BE FASTER THAN 10:39 so I was busting my butt to get to him. HE WAS COUNTING IN THE NINE MINUTE RANGE. I COULD NOT believe it. Seriously. I damn near hugged DI-MC (but was happy with his enthusiastic HIGH-5 because all I need is DI-Size0 to kick my ass because I am all hugging her boyfriend all over the place.)
**Inches:
-I lost an inch in my waist.
-I lost an inch in my hips.
-I lost an inch and a 1/4, that is 1.25 inches, in my "buttocks". I object to the word "buttocks" and only think of Forrest Gump when I say it BUT that is the word in my mess log. I am just copying here.
-My right thigh remained exactly the same.
-My right calf lost a 1/4 inch.
-My bicep lost a 1/4 inch.
Honestly, I am always impressed with people who lose like 40 inches off of stuff. But, I am ok with the inches. Especially in my waist and buttocks. I thought my underwear was baggier and it is indeed. TMI, but I just want to be honest. Totally sexy.
Anyhow, that about wraps that up other than the fact that Moto Moto's song is also stuck in my head and it doesn't quite work for me anymore ;) You know the song...
I like ‘em big I like ‘em chunky I like ‘em big I like ‘em plumpy I like ‘em round
I love that song. It makes me laugh. I also love Moto Moto :)
But, really all I want to do is Move It Move It because I like to Move It Move It. Thank you, Extreme Boot Camp. Another session starts in a week. One week off. I'll be there.
Goals for Session 3:
Another 12 pounds.
Baggier underwear.
Mile: 9 minutes, 20 seconds.
45 sit-ups.
1 push up.
MOVE IT!
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Respect your Feet, Respect my Eyes
There are so many things to be upset about in the world: the California Budget Crisis, Missile Testing in Iran, the Mexican Drug Cartel, Kate and Jon, and of course, swine flu. But, let's get serious here, what's with people wearing ugly shoes? I don't get it.
The reason I am here writing about this right now (other than it is very important to me to examine this issue) is because I was just procrastinating by creating a "How well do you know me?" quiz on Facebook and one of my questions is: What shoes do I hate the most? I almost couldn't choose between 4 of them. I had to put an easy one on there that my friends could immediately cross off because I love Rainbows. I own like 4. The other four choices I provided were: TEVAS, CROCS, BIRKS, and Greek-Inspired Sandals.
I would like to comment on all these choices before I tell you what I hate the most.
As to Tevas, Crocs, and Birks, I am sorry but the argument that comfort is necessary and bla bla just DOES NOT WORK here. I wear "comfortable shoes" about 98% of the time and they don't make me look like a dillhole. There are perfectly acceptable cute tennis shoes that are very comfortable. Oh, your foot is HOT, you don't want to wear tennis shoes. OK. Buy flip flops...Rainbows, Havainas or buy something like this. Awesome. Why Tevas and Birks? Don't you see how unflattering they are to your feet? Don't you see that they take a potentially cute outfit and make it UGLY. Don't you see the horrible things that it does to the length of your leg? There is just nothing good about them. Stop it. I cringe. CRINGE. JUST. THINKING. ABOUT. TEVAS! BLECK.
There are a small population of people who will say that Tevas are the only acceptable option when doing things like tidepooling or hiking. I say NO! They aren't. There are other cuter options for waterproof footwear (including your bare feet! - embrace your inner Blue Lagoon) and hiking footwear.
Now, my friends in high school will comment that I wore Birkenstocks. What an ill decision I made? My father told me 100 times how ugly they were. He'd tell me that they made "my foot" ugly. Singular, not plural, even though I have two feet. He is Arab. Cut him a break. Anyhow, they do, indeed make your foot ugly and your feet ugly. I have to blame Birks on peer pressure. Everyone at my high school had them. They were so cool. Even at the $80 price tag, I managed to convince my mother to buy me black ones and then tan ones. Bleck. I curse the day. What's worse...I was sooo jealous of Missy (who wouldn't even acknowledge my existence) because she had several colors in her possession - purple, blue, etc. The one time I wore Birks to school - I got detention. Even the Catholic High School I went to wanted to stop the spread of this fashion nightmare. Just stick that in your pipe and smoke it.
Crocs are a recent ugly shoe in the ugly shoe phenomenon. I won't buy them. Sorry. I won't try them on. The funny thing about Crocs is I think they are trying to make "cuter" Crocs but they aren't cute...they are still ugly. Like this, and this, and God forbid these. Yep, all ugly. All not flattering. Buy Havainas or something else like the very classic Rainbow ! Please, for the love of all that is good and Holy - DON'T WEAR CROCS. If you do, don't wear them when I see you. It hurts my heart.
In terms of this Greek/Gladiator thing, I just don't like it but of all the listed options - Tevas, Crocs, Birks - I would wear these gladiator type shoes next (if forced by hot Greek men). I am Greek and I have to pay my respects to my forefathers. But in all honesty, them shoes are ugly. Only, maybe, Angelina Jolie, could pull them off and even then Brad would be like, "sweetie, you are hot and you've born 3 of my kids and made me adopt many others but those shoes are not cute on your lovely feet." Got it?
So...in the multiple choice...what do I hate most.
Tevas. Don't make me see them on your foot. I won't hide my disgust just to be "polite". There is no "polite" when Tevas are involved. Respect your feet. Respect my eyes.
The reason I am here writing about this right now (other than it is very important to me to examine this issue) is because I was just procrastinating by creating a "How well do you know me?" quiz on Facebook and one of my questions is: What shoes do I hate the most? I almost couldn't choose between 4 of them. I had to put an easy one on there that my friends could immediately cross off because I love Rainbows. I own like 4. The other four choices I provided were: TEVAS, CROCS, BIRKS, and Greek-Inspired Sandals.
I would like to comment on all these choices before I tell you what I hate the most.
As to Tevas, Crocs, and Birks, I am sorry but the argument that comfort is necessary and bla bla just DOES NOT WORK here. I wear "comfortable shoes" about 98% of the time and they don't make me look like a dillhole. There are perfectly acceptable cute tennis shoes that are very comfortable. Oh, your foot is HOT, you don't want to wear tennis shoes. OK. Buy flip flops...Rainbows, Havainas or buy something like this. Awesome. Why Tevas and Birks? Don't you see how unflattering they are to your feet? Don't you see that they take a potentially cute outfit and make it UGLY. Don't you see the horrible things that it does to the length of your leg? There is just nothing good about them. Stop it. I cringe. CRINGE. JUST. THINKING. ABOUT. TEVAS! BLECK.
There are a small population of people who will say that Tevas are the only acceptable option when doing things like tidepooling or hiking. I say NO! They aren't. There are other cuter options for waterproof footwear (including your bare feet! - embrace your inner Blue Lagoon) and hiking footwear.
Now, my friends in high school will comment that I wore Birkenstocks. What an ill decision I made? My father told me 100 times how ugly they were. He'd tell me that they made "my foot" ugly. Singular, not plural, even though I have two feet. He is Arab. Cut him a break. Anyhow, they do, indeed make your foot ugly and your feet ugly. I have to blame Birks on peer pressure. Everyone at my high school had them. They were so cool. Even at the $80 price tag, I managed to convince my mother to buy me black ones and then tan ones. Bleck. I curse the day. What's worse...I was sooo jealous of Missy (who wouldn't even acknowledge my existence) because she had several colors in her possession - purple, blue, etc. The one time I wore Birks to school - I got detention. Even the Catholic High School I went to wanted to stop the spread of this fashion nightmare. Just stick that in your pipe and smoke it.
Crocs are a recent ugly shoe in the ugly shoe phenomenon. I won't buy them. Sorry. I won't try them on. The funny thing about Crocs is I think they are trying to make "cuter" Crocs but they aren't cute...they are still ugly. Like this, and this, and God forbid these. Yep, all ugly. All not flattering. Buy Havainas or something else like the very classic Rainbow ! Please, for the love of all that is good and Holy - DON'T WEAR CROCS. If you do, don't wear them when I see you. It hurts my heart.
In terms of this Greek/Gladiator thing, I just don't like it but of all the listed options - Tevas, Crocs, Birks - I would wear these gladiator type shoes next (if forced by hot Greek men). I am Greek and I have to pay my respects to my forefathers. But in all honesty, them shoes are ugly. Only, maybe, Angelina Jolie, could pull them off and even then Brad would be like, "sweetie, you are hot and you've born 3 of my kids and made me adopt many others but those shoes are not cute on your lovely feet." Got it?
So...in the multiple choice...what do I hate most.
Tevas. Don't make me see them on your foot. I won't hide my disgust just to be "polite". There is no "polite" when Tevas are involved. Respect your feet. Respect my eyes.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Hyper. Woohoo!
Today my energy is OFF THE CHART - I pretty much want to run around the house in CIRCLES but in Pomona this would be a bad idea for a few reasons: 1. It is hotter than residing on the sun. 2. I may get shot. 3. I may get questioned by the kind officers that often patrol our streets about why I am running around like I am on something. Can you imagine my answer? "I am on happy thoughts and caffeine and woohoo Boot Camp Baby BRING IT!" No seriously. I am odd right now. I keep making happy, excited remarks to J and I think he is confused.
It is the 6th week of my second session of EB. Tomorrow, I think we are running our 3 miles. I am sort of excited to see how I feel at the end of it because I am contemplating running a 5k in July. I remember last session I sort of was amazed I did it, but tired. This session I feel like I sort of got a little bit better at everything, even jump roping. I am no veteran but I definitely can do more and feel better.
I am also nervous about our weigh-in, measuring, and test out on Friday. I have been really strict with Weight Watchers. I have been going to boot camp. Because I made up 2 of the classes I missed, I technically did not miss a class. And last night, sit down folks, I asked J if he felt like going for a jog with me. Yeah, I know, weird. Not like I get extra credit but...I WANTED TO jog. We jogged 1.9 miles. J, of course, kicked my ass and ran circles around me even though he is stationary 98% of the time. But, he was kind enough to stay within spitting distance from me because, you know, we live in Pomona.
Alas, all is good. Not really sure why I am nervous considering the only one I have to prove anything to is ME. But, I don't know...just a milestone I guess. I always like when I see changes instead of "WOOHOO, you lost three pounds, you are still obese, have a nice day." I would much prefer "WOOHOO, you lost 12 pounds, 900 inches, and you are less obese now, have a nice day." I think I can get into that! Woo.Hoo.
With that said, I am also looking for a new car. Last week or was that two weeks ago, hmmmph, the lease on my Lexus SUV was up. I took it to the dealer. Experienced nostalgia. After all, this was the car in which I brought home all three of my babies. This was the car in which J drove me to the hospital while I was in labor. (Yes, he did take a client call while we were driving.) Good memories. Good car.
So, now I am e-mailing every dealer within a 50 mile radius selling the cars we are interested in and asking them to make me a quote. I heart Internet sales. SOOO much easier once you know the car you want. No nonsense. And any nonsense is in writing and all I have to do is click DELETE BABY. DELETE YOUR HARD SALE. DELETE YOUR ATTITUDE. I don't have to buy from you! Wow, that feels good. WOW. WOOHOO.
Even though Internet sales are less annoying, they are still a little annoying. I honestly don't GET why they insist on getting your phone number to call you! I DIDN'T GIVE IT TO YOU BECAUSE I DON'T WANT TO TALK. I DON'T WANT TO BE HASSLED. I DON'T WANT WOOD TRIM. Just tell me what I want. Make me want to buy your car. Don't bug me. Do these people know that they are two shakes from being BANKRUPT? {Just as an aside, Honda was really good at this "no hassle Internet sales" when I got my sexy minivan. So far in my car search, Acura is kicking the ass of all other car dealers. So, the Honda family has apparently figured things OUT!}
I think it is a bad idea to run to a car dealer tonight before I run 3 miles tomorrow. What am I going to do with all this ENERGY! My goodness gracious. Hmmm...maybe I can clean the garage so that the new car that I get will have space in the garage. Drumming fingers.
Woo.Hoo. I may just do that.
It is the 6th week of my second session of EB. Tomorrow, I think we are running our 3 miles. I am sort of excited to see how I feel at the end of it because I am contemplating running a 5k in July. I remember last session I sort of was amazed I did it, but tired. This session I feel like I sort of got a little bit better at everything, even jump roping. I am no veteran but I definitely can do more and feel better.
I am also nervous about our weigh-in, measuring, and test out on Friday. I have been really strict with Weight Watchers. I have been going to boot camp. Because I made up 2 of the classes I missed, I technically did not miss a class. And last night, sit down folks, I asked J if he felt like going for a jog with me. Yeah, I know, weird. Not like I get extra credit but...I WANTED TO jog. We jogged 1.9 miles. J, of course, kicked my ass and ran circles around me even though he is stationary 98% of the time. But, he was kind enough to stay within spitting distance from me because, you know, we live in Pomona.
Alas, all is good. Not really sure why I am nervous considering the only one I have to prove anything to is ME. But, I don't know...just a milestone I guess. I always like when I see changes instead of "WOOHOO, you lost three pounds, you are still obese, have a nice day." I would much prefer "WOOHOO, you lost 12 pounds, 900 inches, and you are less obese now, have a nice day." I think I can get into that! Woo.Hoo.
With that said, I am also looking for a new car. Last week or was that two weeks ago, hmmmph, the lease on my Lexus SUV was up. I took it to the dealer. Experienced nostalgia. After all, this was the car in which I brought home all three of my babies. This was the car in which J drove me to the hospital while I was in labor. (Yes, he did take a client call while we were driving.) Good memories. Good car.
So, now I am e-mailing every dealer within a 50 mile radius selling the cars we are interested in and asking them to make me a quote. I heart Internet sales. SOOO much easier once you know the car you want. No nonsense. And any nonsense is in writing and all I have to do is click DELETE BABY. DELETE YOUR HARD SALE. DELETE YOUR ATTITUDE. I don't have to buy from you! Wow, that feels good. WOW. WOOHOO.
Even though Internet sales are less annoying, they are still a little annoying. I honestly don't GET why they insist on getting your phone number to call you! I DIDN'T GIVE IT TO YOU BECAUSE I DON'T WANT TO TALK. I DON'T WANT TO BE HASSLED. I DON'T WANT WOOD TRIM. Just tell me what I want. Make me want to buy your car. Don't bug me. Do these people know that they are two shakes from being BANKRUPT? {Just as an aside, Honda was really good at this "no hassle Internet sales" when I got my sexy minivan. So far in my car search, Acura is kicking the ass of all other car dealers. So, the Honda family has apparently figured things OUT!}
I think it is a bad idea to run to a car dealer tonight before I run 3 miles tomorrow. What am I going to do with all this ENERGY! My goodness gracious. Hmmm...maybe I can clean the garage so that the new car that I get will have space in the garage. Drumming fingers.
Woo.Hoo. I may just do that.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
The Problem with Gravity
Just wondering, is it possible for fat to hurt? Because I was running today (a lot) and my jiggles hurt and I am thinking that maybe that is my fat loosening up and redistributing. Unfortunately, because of gravity, I don't think it is redistributing where I would like it to go.
I am feeling special today because I managed to do one of the hardest boot camp classes I have ever done - twice. In fact, I think Tuesday and today were the two hardest classes I have ever attended (with the exception of one other one) and I did them twice.
Anyhow, tomorrow Week 5 ends. This week was really challenging. I am wiped out. But, I sort of loved today with all it's high inclines, jiggling, running, etc. I hope that next session I can manage that incline a little better. Wouldn't that be nice? Am I becoming a runner after all? I may even be enjoying running some more. What is that about? Boot Camp, what are you doing to me?
I am feeling special today because I managed to do one of the hardest boot camp classes I have ever done - twice. In fact, I think Tuesday and today were the two hardest classes I have ever attended (with the exception of one other one) and I did them twice.
Anyhow, tomorrow Week 5 ends. This week was really challenging. I am wiped out. But, I sort of loved today with all it's high inclines, jiggling, running, etc. I hope that next session I can manage that incline a little better. Wouldn't that be nice? Am I becoming a runner after all? I may even be enjoying running some more. What is that about? Boot Camp, what are you doing to me?
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Happy Dance for the Muffin Top
Today I was wearing a summer dress. I felt like mixing it up and all my sweats were dirty so WHY NOT? J and I are going car shopping this evening and so after the kids' baths I went into my closet to change so I wouldn't get cold.
Well, because I have a morbid sense of curiosity I grabbed some jeans that I haven't worn in a LOOONG time. They are pre-pregnancy, pre-marriage jeans. In fact, I was wearing these jeans when J proposed to me at the Dana Point jetty. They are not (by any means) my skinny jeans. But, I haven't fit into them for a while. So, I chanted "if these don't fit, no big deal."
They fit. They closed and I didn't have to suck in or anything. THEY CLOSED. Woohoo. They comfortably closed. Now, as I sit here, I feel a bit of a muffin top happening and that is to be expected. I am wearing a loose top because I am not into being all "look at my rolls people, I heart my fat." But, I am wearing the jeans and I don't feel embarrassed wearing them in public.
OK. The mornings are paying off. The watching J eat pizza while I eat Smart Ones is paying off. I am sort of happy now as I sit here feeling my muffin top.
Have a nice evening. I'm gonna go find me a car to love in my old jeans.
Can you tell I am doing the happy dance?
Well, because I have a morbid sense of curiosity I grabbed some jeans that I haven't worn in a LOOONG time. They are pre-pregnancy, pre-marriage jeans. In fact, I was wearing these jeans when J proposed to me at the Dana Point jetty. They are not (by any means) my skinny jeans. But, I haven't fit into them for a while. So, I chanted "if these don't fit, no big deal."
They fit. They closed and I didn't have to suck in or anything. THEY CLOSED. Woohoo. They comfortably closed. Now, as I sit here, I feel a bit of a muffin top happening and that is to be expected. I am wearing a loose top because I am not into being all "look at my rolls people, I heart my fat." But, I am wearing the jeans and I don't feel embarrassed wearing them in public.
OK. The mornings are paying off. The watching J eat pizza while I eat Smart Ones is paying off. I am sort of happy now as I sit here feeling my muffin top.
Have a nice evening. I'm gonna go find me a car to love in my old jeans.
Can you tell I am doing the happy dance?
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
You mean, Flip Flops?
I picked Lulo up at school today and I watched him bus his own dishes after lunch. He carried his dish from the table to the trash, he used his spoon to put the food he did not eat in the trash, and put his dirty plate in the bin. He also spilled his leftover milk in the sink and did the same thing with his glass.
Who is this little boy?
My personal favorite part was HOW he put the dirty plate in the bin. Rather than place it gently, he THREW it in there. SLAM. LOL. My little delicate darling boy. He goes through all the trouble of nicely carrying and cleaning his dish and then he SLAMS it in there. Apparently, this is the fashion. The teacher looked at me and said, "they are all doing that." I wondered for a moment, did Lulo teach them to do that? Probably. Sigh.
***
Lulo is just leaving for the park and he said he wanted to wear his FAT FLOPS. You mean your "flip flops". Yes, my "fat flops." OK. I kissed him and said "bye, have fun." Then he said, "in a while crocodile".
***
Speaking of fat flopping, I am on my fifth week of my second session of EB.
The fat is flopping less; but it flops nonetheless.
I sort of did something today that I never imagined I'd do in my wildest dreams. I did TWO boot camp classes today. Because I have missed two classes this session, I have two to make up and I only have two weeks to do it. You may be wondering how I am feeling. My ass is kicked. Seriously. That was a hard class, too. Not that any class is la di da but...
We had partners and while one partner sprinted a lap around the parking lot we were at; the other partner had to engage in some assigned torture (jump roping, crunches, hovering, bicycle crunches, push jacks with five pound weight in each hand, etc. etc.) until their partner returned. Um, my poor partner was probably like, "dude if she makes me do one more crunch I am going to kick her ass." Sigh. Poor girl. She was nice though. Probably is thinking "DON'T MATCH ME UP WITH MOLASSES AGAIN."
Of course, at the second class, I was matched up with someone a bit slower than me (if that is possible). That kicked my bootie. Seriously.
The good news of course is that I am losing weight. Pants are fitting better. I am really enjoying myself. I am well on my way to being ready for a good plastic surgeon to have a go at me.
***
And now, I work. The fat flops. I return triumphantly to blogging. The world is at peace. So long.
Who is this little boy?
My personal favorite part was HOW he put the dirty plate in the bin. Rather than place it gently, he THREW it in there. SLAM. LOL. My little delicate darling boy. He goes through all the trouble of nicely carrying and cleaning his dish and then he SLAMS it in there. Apparently, this is the fashion. The teacher looked at me and said, "they are all doing that." I wondered for a moment, did Lulo teach them to do that? Probably. Sigh.
***
Lulo is just leaving for the park and he said he wanted to wear his FAT FLOPS. You mean your "flip flops". Yes, my "fat flops." OK. I kissed him and said "bye, have fun." Then he said, "in a while crocodile".
***
Speaking of fat flopping, I am on my fifth week of my second session of EB.
The fat is flopping less; but it flops nonetheless.
I sort of did something today that I never imagined I'd do in my wildest dreams. I did TWO boot camp classes today. Because I have missed two classes this session, I have two to make up and I only have two weeks to do it. You may be wondering how I am feeling. My ass is kicked. Seriously. That was a hard class, too. Not that any class is la di da but...
We had partners and while one partner sprinted a lap around the parking lot we were at; the other partner had to engage in some assigned torture (jump roping, crunches, hovering, bicycle crunches, push jacks with five pound weight in each hand, etc. etc.) until their partner returned. Um, my poor partner was probably like, "dude if she makes me do one more crunch I am going to kick her ass." Sigh. Poor girl. She was nice though. Probably is thinking "DON'T MATCH ME UP WITH MOLASSES AGAIN."
Of course, at the second class, I was matched up with someone a bit slower than me (if that is possible). That kicked my bootie. Seriously.
The good news of course is that I am losing weight. Pants are fitting better. I am really enjoying myself. I am well on my way to being ready for a good plastic surgeon to have a go at me.
***
And now, I work. The fat flops. I return triumphantly to blogging. The world is at peace. So long.
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