Call it a wooby (heh, remember Mr. Mom?) a blankie, a binky, a woo-woo...whatever. A kid's relationship with their blanket is a very special thing. For me, it was a simple green blanket. (And everyone wonders where my obsession with the color came from...) My parents tell me that I would run the edges of it through my fingers overandover until I found "my suckin' spot". Then I would simultaneously suck my thumb, rub the spot on the blanket, and twirl my hair. (I have no idea how I did all three at the same time.) The blanket still bears evidence of numerous repairs.
For my brother, it was a couple of things--a small blue elephant and a big bunny rabbit. He wore that poor bunny rabbit out--to the point where the only thing he had left was a "cheek" of it that he would hold by his cheek when he sucked his fingers at night.
By the time sister came around, blankets and stuffed animals were no longer the wooby de rigueur...Fisher Price started making these mini-blankets with bunny heads on top. I do believe these were the early versions of the "blankie bears" (as Boo calls them) that are so popular today-you know, the fleecy, satiny squares of fabric with some stuffed animal head in the middle? My sister loved hers...
Which brings me to my kids. They were gifted with a million blankets, blankie-bears, and stuffed animals, and it's been interesting to see what they gravitated towards.
For Boo, it's a green Winnie-the-Pooh blanket...it's really soft on one side, satin on the other, and it has the Classic Pooh embroidered on the bottom. It was a random shower gift that I received, and while he does love some of the blankie-bears he has...he *still* returns to the blanket.
In Bay's case, she has blankie-bears that I got as presents, one that Boo picked out for her when I was pregnant with her, and a mini-blanket that I got as a gift that I thought for sure would be her "thing". Nope. Her blankies are the two, thick, satin-edged blankets that my mom and I picked up at Babies R Us a couple weeks before she was born...it was a total random buy.
We were in there getting a couple of things for Smidge's room (as we called her then) and we walked by the blankets. I'd noticed them before, and loved how thick and soft they were, so my mom grabbed a burgundy one, and I grabbed a lilac one and figured they'd be good to cover her while she was in her car seat, at least.
Without a doubt, it was the best purchase out of all of my pre-baby shopping sprees. To this day, she must have *both* blankets when she takes a nap or goes to bed. She has a preference for her burgundy one (but she calls it "pink") and will cover herself with it and snuggle the purple one.
Like I said, it just got me thinking...what about these particular blankets made them the one? What about the green Pooh blanket made it Boo's favorite? For that matter, why was my brother obsessed with the filthy, smelly, dismembered cheek of a giant stuffed rabbit that he got for Easter one year? (Sorry, Shawnski...I had to put that in there!) What makes something as simple as a blanket become a wooby, a woo-woo, or even a "blankie"?
I'm not sure, but I do know that there is hell to pay in our house if we can't find them.
Showing posts with label Boo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Boo. Show all posts
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Mom Always Liked You Better!
The Smothers Brothers...I was too young to watch them, but I do remember their tag line. In this case, I'm not talking about my own siblings, but my own little darlings.
I've heard parents of 2 or more kids talking about how from time to time, they like one of their children better...that they prefer the company of one of their children over the other one. Notice I didn't say, and never said that they LOVE one of their kids more--lest you think I'm some monster. I never thought it would happen to me. Not me! I love both of my children the same! They are both delicate and unique snowflakes that bring joy and light to my world.
Eh. Wrong.
Right now, I am having a really hard time being around Bay. She is still the funny, goofy, adorable, smart little girl that I love with every fiber of my being...but ZOMFSM, she is a challenge. She's headstrong and she's definitely hit her "threes". She needs to do everything herself, gets ragingly pissed-off when she can't do whatever it is that she's doing immediately, but then won't let me help her. However, if Babe attempts to step in and take over, she freaks the fuck out about that. Her tantrums are of epic proportions--we're talking throwing herself down, screaming at the top of her lungs, kicking, punching, biting-type tantrums. And, for the last couple weeks, she's been insisting that she sleep with her light on, which is fine, I guess, but I don't think she's sleeping all that well and the other night, she was up 5 times between midnight and 5, one of the times she asked for a fricking waffle. <insert WTF face>
Of course, I'm busy, and stressed, so I'm handling her behavior, um...not so well. I get pissed because she's being cranky and frankly, I don't want to deal with her.
Which, of course, leads me to my whole point. Boo? He's been frelling awesome lately--he started Kindergarten, which he adores, he's stopped freaking out when he gets in trouble, he doesn't fight (much) about homework, he even woke himself up last week and got himself completely dressed. It's like, "Who the hell is this kid?" So, of course I find myself enjoying hanging out with Boo...he can tell me what's bothering him, rather than dissolving into a pile of tears and shrieks; he is, for the most part, rational; he doesn't feel the need to argue with me every time I say something. It's just more pleasant.
What, you may be asking, is the whole point of this? Not sure. To assure others in the same boat that they're not alone? To seek reassurance that I'm not a horrible mother because I feel this way? Probably yes on both counts.
I just have to keep telling myself that we'll move past this stage, and about the same time Bay is over the threes, Boo will be hitting 7 and 8, in which he'll probably want nothing to do with his mom, and their roles will be reversed.
Which, of course, will be a completely different post.
I've heard parents of 2 or more kids talking about how from time to time, they like one of their children better...that they prefer the company of one of their children over the other one. Notice I didn't say, and never said that they LOVE one of their kids more--lest you think I'm some monster. I never thought it would happen to me. Not me! I love both of my children the same! They are both delicate and unique snowflakes that bring joy and light to my world.
Eh. Wrong.
Right now, I am having a really hard time being around Bay. She is still the funny, goofy, adorable, smart little girl that I love with every fiber of my being...but ZOMFSM, she is a challenge. She's headstrong and she's definitely hit her "threes". She needs to do everything herself, gets ragingly pissed-off when she can't do whatever it is that she's doing immediately, but then won't let me help her. However, if Babe attempts to step in and take over, she freaks the fuck out about that. Her tantrums are of epic proportions--we're talking throwing herself down, screaming at the top of her lungs, kicking, punching, biting-type tantrums. And, for the last couple weeks, she's been insisting that she sleep with her light on, which is fine, I guess, but I don't think she's sleeping all that well and the other night, she was up 5 times between midnight and 5, one of the times she asked for a fricking waffle. <insert WTF face>
Of course, I'm busy, and stressed, so I'm handling her behavior, um...not so well. I get pissed because she's being cranky and frankly, I don't want to deal with her.
Which, of course, leads me to my whole point. Boo? He's been frelling awesome lately--he started Kindergarten, which he adores, he's stopped freaking out when he gets in trouble, he doesn't fight (much) about homework, he even woke himself up last week and got himself completely dressed. It's like, "Who the hell is this kid?" So, of course I find myself enjoying hanging out with Boo...he can tell me what's bothering him, rather than dissolving into a pile of tears and shrieks; he is, for the most part, rational; he doesn't feel the need to argue with me every time I say something. It's just more pleasant.
What, you may be asking, is the whole point of this? Not sure. To assure others in the same boat that they're not alone? To seek reassurance that I'm not a horrible mother because I feel this way? Probably yes on both counts.
I just have to keep telling myself that we'll move past this stage, and about the same time Bay is over the threes, Boo will be hitting 7 and 8, in which he'll probably want nothing to do with his mom, and their roles will be reversed.
Which, of course, will be a completely different post.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Not My Kid!!
Remember those after-school (or "family viewing time") specials that they showed in the late-80's? They dealt with sex...drugs...most likely some rock-n-roll. Anyway, one was called, "Not My Kid!" and it focused on a kid that was in the wrong crowd, but her parents didn't want to believe it, hence the name.
This became a HUGE joke in my family...one of the sibs or I would do something and everyone else would shout, "Not my kid!" Huh, I wonder if the Bro, Sis, and Parental Units remember this...
I've found myself wanting to say this, nay, SHOUT this at the top of my lungs these days. Where you ask?
Soccer practice.
I'm coaching Boo's U5 team, so all the boys are already 5 or just turning 5 and Boo, FSM love him, is...um...not the best player on the team. After watching his dad, older sister, older brother, aunt, and me play countless games, one would think that he would pick up on some things. But, no. At our first practice, he kept trying to stop the ball with his hands. At the first game, he was the only kid to consistently go the wrong way. Granted, every player went the wrong way at least once, but Boo...every time he got the ball. At practice, he whines, cries if he trips, and moves at a snail's pace with the ball while the other boys are zooming around him like rockets shooting across the sky. As a self-proclaimed "jock" it's sometimes painful to watch, especially when he'll get mad or frustrated during a game and he runs over to me for a hug.
However, he is having fun. He almost got his first goal last week, on his birthday, and while he's not the fastest, toughest, or most skilled player on the team...he is the sweetest. He constantly has a smile on his face and when his teammates score, he gives them the biggest high-fives.
Going through this, I see what my dad must have gone through when he was coaching all three of us in our various sports...holy shit, it's a miracle he didn't kill us! It also reminds me that no matter how badly we want our kids to be "just like us" they are their own little people, and their strengths, as well as their weaknesses, are their own--and I'll love them fiercely and unconditionally regardless of what they do.
Unless one of them becomes a serial killer...I don't think I'd be cool with that.
This became a HUGE joke in my family...one of the sibs or I would do something and everyone else would shout, "Not my kid!" Huh, I wonder if the Bro, Sis, and Parental Units remember this...
I've found myself wanting to say this, nay, SHOUT this at the top of my lungs these days. Where you ask?
Soccer practice.
I'm coaching Boo's U5 team, so all the boys are already 5 or just turning 5 and Boo, FSM love him, is...um...not the best player on the team. After watching his dad, older sister, older brother, aunt, and me play countless games, one would think that he would pick up on some things. But, no. At our first practice, he kept trying to stop the ball with his hands. At the first game, he was the only kid to consistently go the wrong way. Granted, every player went the wrong way at least once, but Boo...every time he got the ball. At practice, he whines, cries if he trips, and moves at a snail's pace with the ball while the other boys are zooming around him like rockets shooting across the sky. As a self-proclaimed "jock" it's sometimes painful to watch, especially when he'll get mad or frustrated during a game and he runs over to me for a hug.
However, he is having fun. He almost got his first goal last week, on his birthday, and while he's not the fastest, toughest, or most skilled player on the team...he is the sweetest. He constantly has a smile on his face and when his teammates score, he gives them the biggest high-fives.
Going through this, I see what my dad must have gone through when he was coaching all three of us in our various sports...holy shit, it's a miracle he didn't kill us! It also reminds me that no matter how badly we want our kids to be "just like us" they are their own little people, and their strengths, as well as their weaknesses, are their own--and I'll love them fiercely and unconditionally regardless of what they do.
Unless one of them becomes a serial killer...I don't think I'd be cool with that.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Breaking My Heart
Bay is old enough and "with it" enough to finally understand that Boo leaves once a week. A couple weeks ago, she started asking where he was when he was at his dad's house...
Today, I put her down for her nap, then I took Boo to meet his dad.
Just now (she woke up from nap about 35 minutes ago) she asked, "Where Dakey (how she says his name) go?" When I told her she was at his dad's house, she yelled, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" and proceeded to cry for about 5 minutes.
Granted, she's over it now, and probably won't even remember that he's gone until tomorrow...where we'll have the same scene all over again.
I love the fact that she's becoming cognizant enough to realize that there's a change in the house. On the other hand, I HATE the fact that she has to.
Today, I put her down for her nap, then I took Boo to meet his dad.
Just now (she woke up from nap about 35 minutes ago) she asked, "Where Dakey (how she says his name) go?" When I told her she was at his dad's house, she yelled, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" and proceeded to cry for about 5 minutes.
Granted, she's over it now, and probably won't even remember that he's gone until tomorrow...where we'll have the same scene all over again.
I love the fact that she's becoming cognizant enough to realize that there's a change in the house. On the other hand, I HATE the fact that she has to.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
10 Things: My Kids Randomly Do
It's the weekend! Time for another list...
1. Run around naked--both of them. Bay has taken to saying, "No aipa (diaper.) Me nakey!!"
2. Wake up at the weirdest times. Last Sunday, around 3:30, Babe got up to pee and all of a sudden, I had a kid in my face. It was Boo. He wanted to sleep with us, but there's not enough room (and he kicks), so I got him out on the couch. He's been doing this a couple times a week for the past couple months--waking up between 2 and 3, coming upstairs, snuggling, then sleeping on the couch. Doesn't bother me (except for the waking ME up at 2) but it's strange.
3. Eat ketchup. They'll have some with their chicken nuggets or fish sticks (but not with fries) and then ask for more. <---That is fine, but then they'll just eat the extra ketchup with their spoon, or in Bay's case, her fingers.
4. Go commando. Boo hardly ever wears underwear, even with jeans, which I think sounds as comfy as sand in your crack, but whatever.
5. Sing things to the tune of "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star". This morning, it was "Poopie, poopie, poopie poo..." Bay started it.
6. Obsessively feed Pya treats. They love it. Boo will make Pya shake or sit down, while Bay sets it on the floor by Pya's paws.
7. Head butt. I blame Babe. He and Boo made a "man handshake" that involves the following: a high five, knuckles (blow it up) and a head butt. Now Bay walks around saying "Ead butt!"
8. Dance. I'm assuming they get it from me--Mama LOVES to shake her ass. (Babe, however, does not. But Boo's dad is a dancer, so Boo gets a double dose of the dancing gene.) Every time there's music there's little booties shaking. So.frelling.cute.
9. Take baths. Bay will just start taking off her clothes yelling, "Baf! Baf!" Boo does the same thing, but not as often and if he's taking one, chances are, she's not too far behind.
10. Get the mail. I don't know if it's because they get to cross the street, or sometimes they get mail or they get to see the mini "Noah's Ark" we screwed into the fence by the mailbox (long story--for a different post) but they LOVE to get the mail. I haven't been able to get the mail by myself in years, which is fine, because Boo is almost to the age where he can get it himself and I hate getting the mail. (I don't know why...don't ask.)
My awesome and strange weethens!
1. Run around naked--both of them. Bay has taken to saying, "No aipa (diaper.) Me nakey!!"
2. Wake up at the weirdest times. Last Sunday, around 3:30, Babe got up to pee and all of a sudden, I had a kid in my face. It was Boo. He wanted to sleep with us, but there's not enough room (and he kicks), so I got him out on the couch. He's been doing this a couple times a week for the past couple months--waking up between 2 and 3, coming upstairs, snuggling, then sleeping on the couch. Doesn't bother me (except for the waking ME up at 2) but it's strange.
3. Eat ketchup. They'll have some with their chicken nuggets or fish sticks (but not with fries) and then ask for more. <---That is fine, but then they'll just eat the extra ketchup with their spoon, or in Bay's case, her fingers.
4. Go commando. Boo hardly ever wears underwear, even with jeans, which I think sounds as comfy as sand in your crack, but whatever.
5. Sing things to the tune of "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star". This morning, it was "Poopie, poopie, poopie poo..." Bay started it.
6. Obsessively feed Pya treats. They love it. Boo will make Pya shake or sit down, while Bay sets it on the floor by Pya's paws.
7. Head butt. I blame Babe. He and Boo made a "man handshake" that involves the following: a high five, knuckles (blow it up) and a head butt. Now Bay walks around saying "Ead butt!"
8. Dance. I'm assuming they get it from me--Mama LOVES to shake her ass. (Babe, however, does not. But Boo's dad is a dancer, so Boo gets a double dose of the dancing gene.) Every time there's music there's little booties shaking. So.frelling.cute.
9. Take baths. Bay will just start taking off her clothes yelling, "Baf! Baf!" Boo does the same thing, but not as often and if he's taking one, chances are, she's not too far behind.
10. Get the mail. I don't know if it's because they get to cross the street, or sometimes they get mail or they get to see the mini "Noah's Ark" we screwed into the fence by the mailbox (long story--for a different post) but they LOVE to get the mail. I haven't been able to get the mail by myself in years, which is fine, because Boo is almost to the age where he can get it himself and I hate getting the mail. (I don't know why...don't ask.)
My awesome and strange weethens!
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Hating on a Supermodel
Gisele Bundchen (no, I'm not going to look up the code to type the damn umlaut) bugs me.
It's not that she's a supermodel. It's not that she's married to (gag) Tom Brady. It's not that she travels around the world and makes more money for walking around in her underwear for a few minutes, than I'll ever see in my lifetime.
It's the way that she is always going onandonandonandon in the media about her two sons, while Bridget Moynahan, the mother of Gisele's step-son keeps her private life quiet.
I get that Gisele loves the step-son as if he were her own, I've been there. I've been a step-mom to two (whom I adore!) and Babe is Boo's step-dad...and he calls Boo "his" son. So, I understand taking a child, not of your loins, into your family and heart and loving them as if they were your bio-kid.
But for some reason, her going onandonandonandon about how great step-son is with bio-son, and how close they are just...gets me. I guess I see it from Bridget's point of view. I mean, while Boo doesn't have a "step-mom" he's very close to his dad *and* dad's girlfriend. While I know that Boo is so lucky to have sooooooo many people in his life, it hurts just a squick to know that there's another woman out there that he adores--and he should. She's wonderful with him, and I know, from experience, that it takes a special person to love another's child like your own. I just wonder if it's gut-wrenching for Bridget when Gisele gushes about her "two amazing boys" knowing that one of those boys is hers too.
/my attempt at being philosophical
It's not that she's a supermodel. It's not that she's married to (gag) Tom Brady. It's not that she travels around the world and makes more money for walking around in her underwear for a few minutes, than I'll ever see in my lifetime.
It's the way that she is always going onandonandonandon in the media about her two sons, while Bridget Moynahan, the mother of Gisele's step-son keeps her private life quiet.
I get that Gisele loves the step-son as if he were her own, I've been there. I've been a step-mom to two (whom I adore!) and Babe is Boo's step-dad...and he calls Boo "his" son. So, I understand taking a child, not of your loins, into your family and heart and loving them as if they were your bio-kid.
But for some reason, her going onandonandonandon about how great step-son is with bio-son, and how close they are just...gets me. I guess I see it from Bridget's point of view. I mean, while Boo doesn't have a "step-mom" he's very close to his dad *and* dad's girlfriend. While I know that Boo is so lucky to have sooooooo many people in his life, it hurts just a squick to know that there's another woman out there that he adores--and he should. She's wonderful with him, and I know, from experience, that it takes a special person to love another's child like your own. I just wonder if it's gut-wrenching for Bridget when Gisele gushes about her "two amazing boys" knowing that one of those boys is hers too.
/my attempt at being philosophical
Monday, December 6, 2010
A Little Bit o' This, A Little Bit o' That
It's been a while...
Since my last post:
*Bay turned 2
*I drove from Broomfield, Colorado to Omaha, Nebraska with my mom, dad, brother, sister-in-law, 2 nieces, sister, her dog, Babe, Boo, and Bay. Other than Bay puking all over me right before we got to my aunt's house and the HORRIBLE wind, the trip out and back was pretty uneventful. I got to see my cousin, whom I haven't seen in years, my aunt, my uncle, as well as my grandmother (who doesn't remember who the heck I am, but is a hoot to listen to--she told all of us to "go to Hell" at Thanksgiving dinner.)
*In the same trip, visited my grandparents' house, went to see University of Nebraska kick the snot out of CU, and hung out with my siblings. I, unfortunately, didn't get to see my old drinking buddy, Jody, but, hey, tickets there are CHEAP!
*Played a soccer game...in goal...those of you that know me understand how hil-frelling-larious this is. Needless to say, we got our asses handed to us.
*Babe's 8th grade boys basketball team won their championship game. Go them!
*Babe and I both managed to get sick at the same time. Sore throat, hacking cough...fun times at our house sure to be on their way.
Meh. That's all I got.
Since my last post:
*Bay turned 2
*I drove from Broomfield, Colorado to Omaha, Nebraska with my mom, dad, brother, sister-in-law, 2 nieces, sister, her dog, Babe, Boo, and Bay. Other than Bay puking all over me right before we got to my aunt's house and the HORRIBLE wind, the trip out and back was pretty uneventful. I got to see my cousin, whom I haven't seen in years, my aunt, my uncle, as well as my grandmother (who doesn't remember who the heck I am, but is a hoot to listen to--she told all of us to "go to Hell" at Thanksgiving dinner.)
*In the same trip, visited my grandparents' house, went to see University of Nebraska kick the snot out of CU, and hung out with my siblings. I, unfortunately, didn't get to see my old drinking buddy, Jody, but, hey, tickets there are CHEAP!
*Played a soccer game...in goal...those of you that know me understand how hil-frelling-larious this is. Needless to say, we got our asses handed to us.
*Babe's 8th grade boys basketball team won their championship game. Go them!
*Babe and I both managed to get sick at the same time. Sore throat, hacking cough...fun times at our house sure to be on their way.
Meh. That's all I got.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Conversations I Wish I Could Have
"Hey, guy that's smoking in front of the public library right when storytime is letting out...you're a dumb ass."
"I know that you come to Costco for the free lunch, but it berating the sample giver-outer that the sample sizes are "too small" is not only greedy, but stupid. Shut. Up."
"My darling Boo, I love you with all my heart and soul, but if you don't stop whining every time you open your mouth, I *will* sell you on the black market. Any idea how much I can get for a blonde-haired, blue-eyed kid?"
"Douche-bag that lives 4 houses down...yes, I know you have Harleys. Yes, I know you are a cop. That still won't stop me from calling the cops on your ass if you continue to blaze up and down as fast as you can. Won't you feel crappy if you hit one of my kids?"
"Oh, hai, people on teh interwebz. Learn how 2 spell. Kthxbai."
"Oh my fucking god...quit driving 10 miles per hour below the speed limit in the FAST LANE! Oh, and don't give me a dirty look when I pass you on the right either. If you would abide by the speed limit and the rules of the road, I wouldn't of had to."
"I know that you come to Costco for the free lunch, but it berating the sample giver-outer that the sample sizes are "too small" is not only greedy, but stupid. Shut. Up."
"My darling Boo, I love you with all my heart and soul, but if you don't stop whining every time you open your mouth, I *will* sell you on the black market. Any idea how much I can get for a blonde-haired, blue-eyed kid?"
"Douche-bag that lives 4 houses down...yes, I know you have Harleys. Yes, I know you are a cop. That still won't stop me from calling the cops on your ass if you continue to blaze up and down as fast as you can. Won't you feel crappy if you hit one of my kids?"
"Oh, hai, people on teh interwebz. Learn how 2 spell. Kthxbai."
"Oh my fucking god...quit driving 10 miles per hour below the speed limit in the FAST LANE! Oh, and don't give me a dirty look when I pass you on the right either. If you would abide by the speed limit and the rules of the road, I wouldn't of had to."
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Sober November...EPIC FAIL!
Oy. So, the Babe and I, along with Miss Val (one of our fabulous neighbors) decided to have a cheat day yesterday. Uncle Ryan (Miss Val's brother) didn't want to play, the party pooper, so whatevs.
We started the morning with a mimosa. It was orangey, icy, bubbly deliciousness. We stopped at one. Babe had a few beers throughout the day, and I took one shot of Tuaca to commemorate the occasion. Then, Miss Val, Bubba (Miss V's kiddo) came over for pizza and the kids started to play. Scott and his kids stopped by and we invited them in to play. Babe and Scott were watching sports, drinking some keg-fresh Coors Light. Miss V and I were drinking Ginger Skyy and Diet Ginger Ale.
Then, we started on shots.
Miss Sherrie got home from work around 8:15 and she joined in.
We drank more shots.
The night gets a bit fuzzy after that. Boo ended up sleeping with me--he woke me up at 4:30 when he peed--and Babe ended up on the love seat.
All I have to say is, we killed the big-ass bottle of Tuaca...and I don't think I need any more cheat days.
Hell, I'm never drinking again. :D
We started the morning with a mimosa. It was orangey, icy, bubbly deliciousness. We stopped at one. Babe had a few beers throughout the day, and I took one shot of Tuaca to commemorate the occasion. Then, Miss Val, Bubba (Miss V's kiddo) came over for pizza and the kids started to play. Scott and his kids stopped by and we invited them in to play. Babe and Scott were watching sports, drinking some keg-fresh Coors Light. Miss V and I were drinking Ginger Skyy and Diet Ginger Ale.
Then, we started on shots.
Miss Sherrie got home from work around 8:15 and she joined in.
We drank more shots.
The night gets a bit fuzzy after that. Boo ended up sleeping with me--he woke me up at 4:30 when he peed--and Babe ended up on the love seat.
All I have to say is, we killed the big-ass bottle of Tuaca...and I don't think I need any more cheat days.
Hell, I'm never drinking again. :D
Monday, November 8, 2010
Friday Night Dance Party
Babe is coaching boys basketball right now, so the kids and I are solo until 5 or 5:30 on practice nights. Lately, I've been getting Bay from the sitter and then we run to Boo's school to grab him and then we rock out to the Lady Gaga station on Pandora radio. (Yes, Boo lurves Lady Gaga, Shakira, Madonna, Rihanna...anything you can shake your ass too.)
Upon getting home, we continue to rock out and I look over and Boo is busting out the Robot! Yes, the mother-effing ROBOT, people!! So, I taught him to do: Stir the Pot, Shopping Cart, and Lawnmover.
Later that evening, in the tub, we had a recreation of the Maniac scene from "Flashdance" with two nekkid booties.
I think next week, we'll break down The Sprinkler.
Upon getting home, we continue to rock out and I look over and Boo is busting out the Robot! Yes, the mother-effing ROBOT, people!! So, I taught him to do: Stir the Pot, Shopping Cart, and Lawnmover.
Later that evening, in the tub, we had a recreation of the Maniac scene from "Flashdance" with two nekkid booties.
I think next week, we'll break down The Sprinkler.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Diet, Schmiet...
So...as I mentioned in my last post, I've put on some weight. Nothing major, but I'm about 10 pounds heavier than I'd like to be. I know that some of this is weight from muscle--I went from pretty much being a slug to playing soccer, swimming, doing yoga, and trying the 100 push-ups challenge in one big swoop. Babe says my butt is firmer and I can see definition in my legs that disappeared after my ankle fuck-up, so I *guess* that's a good thing (no, I *get* that it's a good thing, I really, really do. I'm not going to be one of those women who constantly bemoan their bodies looking for affirmation, which isn't to say that I won't welcome a compliment now and again...but I digress.)
Part of my road to losing some of these poundage involves me watching what I'm eating. I found this site that's been helping me track my exercise and food. While I'm not really paying attention to my caloric intake, it's interesting to see just how many calories I consume without thinking about it.
I've also realized something about myself: the more I tried to limit what I was eating, the more I thought about food. I don't know how people on actual diet programs do it. I'd eat something and then log it, then I'd freak out about how many calories I'd consumed and then I'd worry about how many calories my next meal was going to be, and so on.
Am I going to keep up with the site? Sure, it's a great way to see what my eating patterns are but am I going to freak out if I exceed the calories "they" think I should have? Nope.
On a somewhat unrelated note, a couple Saturdays ago, Boo got a hold of the remote and changed it to a Zumba infomerical. I come upstairs from doing laundry and he tells me, with the most serious look on his face, "Mom. You need to get Zumba if you need to lose some pounds."
I about died laughing.
Then I asked him if he thought I was fat.
I guess I need some affirmation after all. :o)
Part of my road to losing some of these poundage involves me watching what I'm eating. I found this site that's been helping me track my exercise and food. While I'm not really paying attention to my caloric intake, it's interesting to see just how many calories I consume without thinking about it.
I've also realized something about myself: the more I tried to limit what I was eating, the more I thought about food. I don't know how people on actual diet programs do it. I'd eat something and then log it, then I'd freak out about how many calories I'd consumed and then I'd worry about how many calories my next meal was going to be, and so on.
Am I going to keep up with the site? Sure, it's a great way to see what my eating patterns are but am I going to freak out if I exceed the calories "they" think I should have? Nope.
On a somewhat unrelated note, a couple Saturdays ago, Boo got a hold of the remote and changed it to a Zumba infomerical. I come upstairs from doing laundry and he tells me, with the most serious look on his face, "Mom. You need to get Zumba if you need to lose some pounds."
I about died laughing.
Then I asked him if he thought I was fat.
I guess I need some affirmation after all. :o)
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