Motivation Monday

Wowsers. My kids are on an Inspector Gadget kick. I totally blame that for my wowsers habit.

Let me just be real - last week suuuuuucked.

Sara got sick early Thursday morning with the dreaded stomach flu. All of my laundering and Clorox wiping and Lysol using was all for naught and I ended up getting sick in the middle of a fund raising event for the Y on Friday night. I'm a fun girl that way.

But even before that, I was struggling. I think my iron is low again because my energy level is in the crapper. This week in P90X-land, it was rest and recovery week.

HA! Don't let the phrase fool you.

It was neither restful or recovery oriented.

And, for the first time since Christmas, I missed my Thursday through Saturday workouts. It was awful. I do not even want to try to explain how much missing those workouts tortured me.

Time to take a deep breath and attempt to be rational. I tried to stick to the schedule, but it just didn't work out  and I did manage to drag myself to Zumba on Sunday. It was really, really hard but I gave it my all.

I'm not sure what the heck has happened but ever since Robert left, I'm all schedule oriented which has never been my thing. It's spooky.

Of course, now it's Monday but tomorrow is also end of the month. I weighed and took measurements today and my four week total is......15 pounds and 15.5 inches.  I was hoping for more since there was very minimal food intake Thursday through Sunday, but it is what it is. And 15 pounds in a month is nothing to sneeze at. For real.

I'm looking forward to the new week and starting the new phase of P90X. Unfortunately, that still includes YogaX. And Plyo. That's in addition to a bunch more different types of push ups and pull ups and all sorts of fun new stuff.

On the brighter side, I bit the bullet and registered for Zumba instructor training this week.

Because of that I actually watched myself in the mirror at Zumba this afternoon. I figure if I'm going to expect  others to watch me Zumba then I need to know what they'll see.

Have I mentioned that I prefer not to look at myself in the mirror as a whole - especially when rapidly moving so that the jiggly parts jiggle. But it wasn't as bad as I feared. My feet do this really weird floppy thing, though, which would have made me giggle had I not still been gasping for air. Also? My collarbones are HUGE. (And, um, YAY that they show up these days, right?!!?!)

See you next week if I'm still alive. HA!

Taking a sick day

As a stay at home mom, you don't really get sick days.

It kinda sucks.

When Robert is home, I know I can go and lie down if I'm not feeling well (or, say, just need to escape.)

But guess what? Robert isn't here right now.

Guess it's a good thing that I'm not the sick one...yet.

Yesterday and last night everything was fine. This morning, Sara came into our bedroom asking for a drink of water. Not long after that was what I call the cough of spewing.

Robert has horrible acid reflux. So does his dad, so does his mom. So it wouldn't be unheard of if one of our kids ends up with acid reflux too.

Meet Sara, resident diva and often astounding drama queen.

We've never had her diagnosed because taking Sara to the doctor goes something like this:

S: I don't feeeeeel good.
Parent: What's wrong?
S: I don't know.
Parent: Hmm. When you know let me know and we'll try to figure it out.
S: I don't feeeeeeeeel good!!!
Parent: What hurts?
S: My stomach.
Parent: How does your stomach hurt?
S: I don't know.
Parent: Sharp pain? Cramp? Achy?
S: I DON'T KNOW!
Parent: Want a tums?
S: Yes.
::chewing::
Parent (after a couple minutes): Are you feeling better?
S: No, but can I have a cookie?
Parent: Um, no.
S: I don't feel good. :: whining, crying, flinging herself about in hysterics::
Parent: Okay, I'll make an appointment with the doctor to see if we can figure this out.

four to sixteen days later:

Dr: So what's the problem?
Parent: She keeps complaining that her stomach hurts.
Dr: Does she have a virus?
Parent: No.
Dr: blood in her stool?
Parent: Not that I've seen.
Dr: What does she eat?
Parent: For breakfast usually cereal, yogurt, or fruit. For lunch, usually a PB&J, chips or carrots, and dinner she'll eat a chicken, mac and cheese, pasta, veggies, fruits..she eats pretty well. She doesn't like meat very much or anything spicy. She normally drinks milk, water, or kool-aid.
Dr:  ::poking on her stomach:: well, I think she's okay.

So helpful.

These days, she'll ask for a Tums if her stomach is bothering her. So when she came in this morning and asked for water and then started coughing after she swallowed, I knew what was coming.

Me: Sara, does your tummy hurt?
S: NO! (this means yes, btw)
Me: Okay, let's go into the bathroom, okay?
S: NO! I DON'T NEED TO! ::shrieking::
Me: Well, I need to go to the bathroom.

as I'm sitting on the toilet, she walks to the door of the bathroom with her hand on her throat, swallowing rapidly.

Me: Sara if you need to throw up, please at least throw up in here so I don't have to clean the carpet or the mattress.
S: I DON'T!!! ::banshee type screaming.   pause.    gurgling.   more swallowing:: I DON........

photo from http://www.mypapercrane.com. Genius!!

Cue vomit.                        

I knew it. I had the trashcan at the ready, so with my super mom ninja skills I slid it under her as she doubled over to vomit all over my bathroom. Most of it even went in there. Score!

Guess I know what I'm going to be doing today.

Having a sick day. With any luck it will just be today and Tucker and I will escape the toilet and trash can tour.

The question is....::in my best albeit pathetic Clint Eastwood voice:: do I feel lucky, punk?

Motivation Monday

You know what? There's an athlete inside me somewhere.

When I'm panting for air and my muscles are trembling with strain and exhaustion, I can feel her, deep down inside me telling me I can DO this. One more rep, 30 more seconds, I have it in me.

And, in those moments I feel like I can conquer the world.

She's the reason I push forward on the days when working out seems like the worst idea in the world.

I can see glimpses of her now, through this stubborn layer of fat that has trapped her and tried to smother her one piece of cheesecake at a time. She's starting to break through after three years of effort. You'd think she'd be too tired by now, but nope. Not this girl.

I like this girl. She's strong and smart and confident. Her body responds when she wants it to do something - like jog up the stairs on the way to Zumba or finish that last vinyasa in Yoga X. Sore muscles? No problem. She'll just work through them.

And now that she's peeking through and speaking up more often, I'm all the more eager to meet her. How I wish I could just unzip the fat suit over her so she could step out right now. But then, that would be taking the easy way out and this girl? She doesn't take shortcuts or cheat.

So I'll keep doing what I'm doing and she'll keep on doing what she's doing and before we both know it, the time will be right.

I'm so looking forward to that day.

Oh, and I'm down two more pounds for a total of 12 lbs in three weeks.

To my kids..

Hey kids, you know all that harping I've been doing lately?

You remember - blah blah blah you are so lucky and don't even know it. Blah blah blah so many other people in the world would love to just have your problems blah blah blah. Blah blah blah so much more fortunate than you even realize. Blah blah blabbity blabbity blab....roof over your heads, heat to keep you warm, air conditioning to keep you cool, food in your belly, clothes on your back, shoes on your feet, a doctor if you're sick...yada yada yada. Why don't your understand that YOU ARE SO LUCKY!

Here's a much more concise way to explain it.


My hope for both of you is that you'll never have to pray to have a life like the one you have now, and that one day you'll learn to appreciate how blessed you truly are.

Thankful Sunday

Today it hit me again how lucky I am. What better day to mention it than on a Sunday?

Thanks to my kids for sleeping until after 8 and then waking up in a good mood

Thanks to Tylenol for making pain relievers

Thanks to the YMCA for rescheduling Sunday Zumba so I could get my exercise on

Thanks to Tascha for going with me

Thanks to Paul for watching the kids while we went

Thanks to Samantha for saving us a place in class

Thanks to Ally and Ry for playing with my kids and saving them from the boredom of a day with just me

Thanks to Joanne and her family for being such great neighbors 

Thanks to Facebook for letting me stay in touch with so many people in one convenient place

Thanks to Becky for being such a sweetheart

Thanks to Robert for being Robert

Thanks for hot showers, warm blankets and sweet good night kisses from the kids.

Thanks for warmer weather today, a roof over our head, and food in our bellies. 

Thanks for life. Even when it's messy and stressful and overwhelming. 

...and now for the update...

I keep thinking I need to start out posts like this with, "I really love my kids" but the truth is, that's obvious or else I would be batshit crazy by now.

Oh, wait...

Anyway.

This morning, I had to wake Tucker up for school. It's been a hectic week. Lots of stuff going on, and the sad thing is I've cut way back on stuff I used to do. Sara had climbed into my bed sometime around 3 this morning and I let her because she went right back to sleep and she did it quietly and all by herself. When she was still sleeping soundly at 7:25, I walked outside with Tucker and watched him go to the bus stop. My neighbor was there with her kids and I'm fine letting him walk solo if there's an adult there I know. Some of the older kids can be...well...that's a post for another day.

After Tucker gets on the bus I come back in...Sara is still asleep. Awesome. I put in my Yoga X dvd to get my workout started because it's over an hour and a half. And it's difficult. Sara wakes up and comes downstairs right as I'm finishing up. She's well rested and in a good mood.

Can I get a hallelujah?

Hallelujah!!!!!

I give her my full attention all morning. Life is happy and calm. It's cruel too, because on days like this that I see just how nice it can be, it makes bearing the days that are not as nice more difficult.

I'm hoping as I go to meet her bus that she'll still be in a good mood when she gets off. By some miracle, she is.

Could it be? Could it be there there's going to be an entire day without tantrums? Could it? Truly?

We come inside and she immediately asks me if she can have an Oreo. I didn't give her any after lunch today because 1) I didn't think about it and 2) she didn't ask.

So sure, an Oreo or two is okay. She even offers to take Tucker some. Ummmmm, am I even in the right house? Perhaps it's a parallel universe or opposites day.  But she takes him two cookies and then asks for more when she finishes her two. I say no.

::end of peaceful and tantrum free day::

I want to tell her it's just an Oreo and not the end of the world. But there's no way she could hear me over all the wailing.

Seriously.

And once the floodgates were opened it was business as usual at Casa Dahl.

And by that I mean that Sara had an issue with any thing we said or did.

Tucker asked to attend Skate Night tonight for his school and he's been so good that I really wanted to be able to take him.

In between fits, we learn that Sara does not want to go to Skate Night, or the gym for Zumba, or anywhere else we want to go, or do anything we want to do.

Which is actually pretty typical and why, an hour later, we'd been to the commissary for bread and chips, the library to return books, the bank to deposit a check, and were now pulling into the skating rink parking lot.

Fits be damned!

That, and once she saw where we were, she was all excited because she'd been here before.

I had asked her no less than three times if she wanted to skate. No, no, no. I asked again as I paid. No. Okay then. We went to get the rental skates and she suddenly wanted to skate.

Of course.

I pointed out that she had said she did not want to skate at least three times.

Cue tantrums. Tantrum over not getting to skate. Tantrum over needing to go to the bathroom. Tantrum over not being able to sit on the side of the skating rink. Tantrum over my insisting that she put on her shoes to go to the bathroom. Tantrum over my telling her that if she peed in her pants out of sheer spite (as she threatened) she'd spend the rest of the evening in pee clothes.

No fewer than 20 people tried to help 'cheer' Sara up. It couldn't be done.

I'm exhausted.

Not just from tonight, but from the overwhelming constant worry that I am messing up BIG time as a parent. I am frustrated that my kids lead such a privileged life and yet they have no idea how fortunate they are. I have no idea how to get this message across effectively. Take everything away? Figure out a way for all of us to volunteer so that they get an idea that their lifestyle isn't shared by everyone?

I don't know.

I asked Tucker tonight what I could do to be a better Mom.

His reply? "Get skinnier."

Ouch.

Maybe Sara's fits aren't so bad after all.

Breaking News: Sara's attitude reaches unheard of heights

Stay tuned for the full story at 11.

Motivation Monday - BOOYA Plateau!

How's THIS for motivation?

On January 2, I started a fitness challenge. I'm doing P90X, following a basic TeamBeachBody nutrition guideline, using Shakeology and going to Zumba three times a week.

Week one: way sore, only lost two pounds. This brought me to the weight number I have been battling against for the last year and a half.  Maybe I've lost inches. ::crosses fingers:: Nope.

So I have a choice - leap of faith, trust the plan, stay on my current path or give up and be at this same weight this time next year (or heaven forbid even heavier). Yeah. that made it easier.

Week two. Last Thursday, I had a doctor's appointment. One where I knew I'd have to be weighed. Five weeks prior was my last appointment and the doctor mentioned that I'd gained a few pounds. And um, yeah, it was before the holidays so I can't blame Christmas or New Year's.

I hadn't weighed since that Monday so I really had no idea what my number would be and I was determined not to be stressed about it. It is what it is, and even if I haven't lost any more than the two pounds from Monday, at least it was two pounds down.

So I hop on the scale and move the weight to where I thought it should be. Too heavy? Sa-weet! Slide it down, slide it down, slide it down. Five pounds down.  By the doctor's record, I've lost 13 pounds in five weeks. And today when I weighed in, I was hoping that my scale  - which tends to weigh me a couple pounds heavier than the doctor's scale - reflected that same number.

Well, it didn't.

It was two pounds LESS.

::sprinkler:: ::running man:: ::MC Hammer U Can't Touch This::

Should I dare take measurements? Romi used to weigh and measure me every two weeks when I was working with her. I had a general idea of what my measurements were (mostly my waist measurement), so imagine my surprise when I had lost inches in my chest, waist, hips, thighs (TWO inches in EACH thigh, thankyouverymuch), biceps and calves. 9 inches in total. Ten pounds in total. In two weeks.

Yeah, I'll take that. I'll take that all day long. Good bye plateau. I will not miss you. Buh bye!

All pumped up that I now weigh right around what I did on my wedding day - ten years ago - I headed to the gym to do the chest and back workout.

Woooooooooweeeeee! What a struggle I had today.  Everything felt so hard, but I looked back at my records and I'm steadily improving. And the sweat was actually rolling off me. Attractive.

I went to Zumba this afternoon and was drenched in sweat after that class too. But I loved it. Tomorrow is freakin' Plyo. I do not love plyo, but I'm determined to master it.

Can't wait to see what next Monday brings.

Family First

The kids and I have settled into a pretty good routine. They are dealing pretty well with Robert being away for the most part and we are doing our best to stay busy.

Gotta tell you, it's a lot easier than it was last time.

So anyway, I've been weaning myself from spending so much time on the computer.

When the kids were really little, there were times when my magical electronic gizmo (aka my laptop) represented the only adult interaction I'd get. It kept me sane. And no, I'm not kidding.  And yes, that's a little sad.

But now the kids are older and I have worked really hard at making real life connections. I don't want to hide behind my computer screen and live life vicariously through anyone or anything else. There's too much out there to see and enjoy and learn. And the less time I spend online, the more time I can spend moving around and hopefully the less my ass will spread and the smaller my pants size will be.

On that note, I'm still going to blog and check email and spy on keep in touch with everyone on Facebook. I mean, come on... I love you guys. But I love my family more. And right now that's where I need and want to be.

Garbage. And no, not the band.

Today will be a week that Robert has been gone. Feels like a month.

In his absence I get to be in charge of trash, because it just doesn't seem right to have a seven year old or a four year old hauling a big trash bin or a huge bag (or bags) of recycle to the curb or through the neighborhood to the recycling center. And when I say recycling center, I really mean dumpsters.

So on Monday, after our prompt and efficient garbage men toured la neighborhood, I thought  - why not make a clean sweep (<---- see what I did there? Heh!) of it and take the recycling. I've been, um, organizing some things and we had some boxes and other recycle-able things in our utility room. I loaded up my car and headed to recycle city, where apparently, a nuclear test site has been relocated.

Frankly, it looked like a construction dumpster (or six) threw up. Boxes, furniture, and garbage were everywhere. There was a small path to one dumpster but the other three were completely inaccessible.

Sadly, it was even worse than this. Good grief.

Photo credit: http://johannburkard.de/blog/programming/java/garbage-collector-pitfalls.html

We live in senior enlisted and junior officer housing. It's less than three years old, for crying out loud. It was so disappointing to see all the trash just chucked out like it was a city landfill.

Well, I'm always up for a little extra cardio, so I got to work with the intention of simply making all the dumpsters accessible. To my surprise, I discovered that the other three dumpsters were empty. I have to say it, I live in a neighborhood with some sorry, lazy, nasty people.

To further prove my point -  as I was attempting damage control, two cars pull up to unload their recycling. Big, burly he men were driving these vehicles. Did they offer to help? No they did not. One of them was going to put his bags on the ground beside one of the dumpsters until I gave him the 'Mom glare'.

Never underestimate the power of the 'Mom glare'.

About 40 minutes into my cleanup efforts, a truck from housing pulls up and one of the maintenance guys gets out and starts to clean up too. He told me that the dumpsters in the other housing area are way worse than ours. That? That is very, very sad.

Motivation Monday

As part of my January fitness challenge, I weighed in this morning.

Down two pounds. I'll take it! It's not a Biggest Loser kind of number, but hey - two pounds is nothing to sneeze at. I'm trying really hard not to focus on the numbers because that ALWAYS derails me. I could write posts after post about it. Sigh. Actually, I think I have already. A-hem.

Anyway! Moving on. Where was I? Two pounds, yay me.

P90X. Let's do some talking about P90X, shall we? I've dabbled in P90X off and on for over a year. I've done all the weight routines many, many times, but I've had very limited experience with the dedicated cardio. I call it dedicated cardio because in all honesty, if you are doing P90X correctly it's all pretty intense cardio - even the Yoga....err...excuse me..Yoga X. Or as Tony would say, Yoga X, brother.

Tony and I are having a bit of a love hate relationship these days. I love him, my muscles pretty much hate him.

Why is that, you may be wondering?

I'd be delighted to tell you. Push ups. Pull ups. Squats. Lunges. Jumping. Oh how I hate, hate, hate the jumping. Especially when squats and lunges are combined with jumping. Plyo is the devil. The devil that's an hour long. Jumping jacks. Whom ever thought up jumping jacks should have been shot. In the foot.

Seriously though, it's been a week. I lived past the first full week. WOOT! On Thursday, I was so sore I wanted to cry when ever I tried to stand or sit or breathe.

BUT! Today? I was looking forward to the workout. Have I improved in a week? I certainly feel stronger. And six or seven people have told me I looked thinner or smaller in the last week. God Bless all of you, by the way. You made my middle aged self so happy!

Oh - and here's my official "before" picture. We took it New Year's Eve. When I saw it, I wanted to cry. I thought I was further along than this. I guess that just means there's more room for progress, right?

Shame on me

I'm ashamed of myself for thinking (much less writing) what I'm about to, but I'm doing it anyway. Shame on me.

It's judgmental and bitchy, but I simply cannot restrain myself for some reason tonight. Double shame on me.

I follow a decent amount of blogs. There are some really talented writers out there - way, way more talented than I am. And after reading about their lives for weeks, months, even years, I feel like I know them. I realize I don't - not really - but I care about what happens to them. Which, in a way, makes what I'm about to say even worse.

I just read most of a blog entry from someone that I have never met personally nor carried on a personal conversation. She wrote, reaching out to the blog world (and beyond, I'm sure) to share her troubles. And they were real and familiar. A death in the family, a fight with another family member, financial troubles, stress and worry about being a good parent and provider. My heart goes out to her.I've been there. It's no fun. Any one of those would be difficult to deal with, but all at once? Yikes!

But as I scrolled down her blog entry, there were all these pictures posted of her happy and smiling- posing happily for the camera. No sad eyes, no tear stains, no furrowed brow...just a lady who looks like her life is hunky dory. And I found myself thinking - WTH? Why are these pictures all over your blog entry when your words so convincingly contradict them? Which is it? If you're being paid to wear the outfit you're in, why not put the pictures in a different post? Why invalidate all that work and emotion because you're wearing a cute pair of boots and you're having a good hair day? And also? SPELL-CHECK. I'm pretty sure your computer has it in some form or another. Even Blogger has a spell-check built in.

Shame on me. That's an awful thing to think, much less admit - and then, god forbid, blog about. But I'm sick of insincerity, double standards, pity parties, and other such nonsense. Is it for the attention? Did I miss a memo?

I feel like I'm having a Carrie Bradshaw moment here - In this era of social network over sharing, when does over sharing result in under caring?

And, like I said, shame on me.

A Pretty Perfect Day

As deployments go, this one is going pretty well so far.

Knock on wood, plastic, laminate, whatever it takes. I'm sure at some point I'll get hit with the deployment curse, but until it happens, there's no need to worry about it.

The hardest part of deployments for me are weekends. During the week it's somehow easier to stay busy. On the weekends, there's just too much...time. The house seems so much emptier without Robert. This time I'm trying to keep us busy on the weekends too.

Today we had a baby shower for our former babysitter and it was Parent's Night Out at the Y. By the time I got up, gave the kids breakfast, worked out, showered and gave the kids lunch, it was time to leave to go to the baby shower. From the baby shower, we headed straight for Parent's Night Out. After dropping the kids off, I rented a movie, grabbed some dinner, and spent a very pleasant evening in my still clean house.

If the rest of the deployment goes this well, it's going to fly by! (Crossing fingers and knocking on wood.)

Shower pictures (because you don't need or want to see pictures of me watching a movie and drinking a fruit smoothie):

My newest favorite cake

I made a diaper cake!

I was trying to explain to the kids what a diaper cake is, but Sara heard diaper and cake and decided to be convinced I was going to try and get her eat diapers.

As if.

There were some technical difficulties. The first layer I put together a little differently than the top layers so the diapers kept coming unrolled and popping off the ribbon. I was one breakout free from stapling it all together.

Fortunately, it seems to be holding together now.

Just Roll With It

A few days ago, I walked into the bathroom and noticed half a roll of toilet paper in the trash.

Hmm.......

Sara has been here.

I'm not sure what makes her take a roll of toilet paper with plenty of life left and replace it with a new one.

I mean, I'm grateful for the effort, just not sure I understand why she's doing it.

And when I ask her, she just laughs.

Gotta be honest, that worries me a little.

It's Zumba class sweetie, not Showgirls.

First let me say that I personally do not know any one that I'm fixin' to talk about in this post. If by the off chance one of said people stumbles across this blog entry and figures out who I am and who they are, I apologize if I hurt your feelings but I'm just calling it like I see it.

With that said: OMG OMG OMG!!!!!

I was about five minutes late to Zumba tonight because it took me 15 minutes instead of the normal 10 minutes to sign the kids up for Parent's Night Out. But that's another story entirely and I don't want to lose focus.

So, I jogged up the stairs and trotted to the aerobics room. The parking lot had been so full that I was surprised to see room in class. But who am I to look a gift horse in the mouth? Normally I get my groove going on the right side of the room somewhere in the middle-ish. But a bunch of others were already there, so I stood in the middle of the room but on the back row.

The first thing I noticed was a really, really energetic girl on the front row bouncing around like we were in a reduced gravity situation. Moon boots? Springs on shoes? Nope, nothing I could see. Maybe just a Red Bull or two and a pack of M&M's.... Possibly some Meth, but that's a little judge-y. I shall call her Tiggerette.

The second thing I noticed was the girl behind Tiggerette. Whoa! That's some tan there blondie. I hope it's mystic or you are going to look like Donatella Versace by the time you're 30. Also? Those shorts are really, really short. Which normally wouldn't have even gotten my attention but she was about 3 inches away from doing the splits. Which normally would impress me since even at my most flexible, I've never been able to do a split. But I noticed because we were in the middle of a routine that had nothing to do with splits. Also? This is not So You Think You Can Dance? or Fame or an MTV reality series audition. So what the heck are you doing?! You're going to trip and potentially maim one of of the more mature white people. Maybe even cause the breakage of a hip! I shall call her....Bootylicious.

Class continues and I am amused by Tiggerette and Bootylicious. They are cute as can be and really good dancers, but I can't get over their improv, hair whipping (Willow Smith would be proud!), and whatever that thing was they were doing with their asses. There's no real way I can describe it effectively, but let me just sum it up by saying it reminded me of a cross between a stripper pole demo (minus the pole) and a re-enactment from the movie Showgirls. Ummhmmm. It was like that. And they kept hugging. Ooooo-kay, then.

And then I noticed this poor little guy to the left of me. He was getting frustrated about 15 minutes into class and as I was sending him mental Kudos for sticking it out, I noticed Bootylicious was....um....focusing?!?!? on him in between songs.

Interesting. She was shaking her boobs and ass in his general direction throughout class and about halfway through the class, he started rolling his eyes at her. Awww...it's the mating ritual of the American teenager! Man, has THAT changed since I was that age.

I don't really think I get it. Aren't they supposed to be texting and Skyping? Why Zumba class? Does she want him to be her dance partner or something? Inquiring minds want to know! 45 minutes into class, Booty takes down her hair and she, Tiggerette, and a third friend I hadn't really noticed before now start flipping their hair around. Which I found absolutely hilarious because that takes a deeper level of dedication than I'm apparently capable of. I just want to get through Zumba while doing the steps as correctly as possible and burning the maximum number of calories possible. It never occurred to me to use it as a dating tool.

Obviously, I'm totally out of touch with teenagers these days.

Obviously.

Motivation Monday - the P90X edition

I missed last Monday because we were traveling and I hadn't worked out, like, at all. But I knew it was coming so I tried really hard not to be cranky about it. I think I did okay, but only Robert and the kids know for sure and they're all asleep right now.

So today I'm happy to report that I got my slacker butt back into the Y. I've started a fitness challenge with one of my former managers, and my program of choice is P90X.

Yesterday I finally got around to doing the fit test which consisted of push ups, bicep curls, vertical jump, pull ups, in and out sit ups, and two agonizing minutes of jumping jacks. Oh, and wall squats. You are supposed to be able to pass this test before starting P90X. I surpassed the minimum requirements in everything but the jumping jacks and pull ups. I switched to running in place about 45 seconds in, but switched back for the last 30 second jumping jack sprint. I had no way to do pull ups here, but I know I can't do one without out a little help. So there's tons of opportunity for improvement. I hadn't done push ups or pull ups in months. Can't really say that I missed them.

Which leads me into my workout for today. Chest, back, and abs. Guess what that consisted of? Push ups and pull ups, mostly. Tony Horton is the devil. The devil I tell you.

I had planned to go to Zumba this afternoon, but I didn't make it. I need to be able to walk around tomorrow since Robert's going back to work and I've got to do plyo.

But I've gotta say - it felt GOOD to be back in the gym. Crap. I've turned into one of those people that likes to work out.

Happy New Year

It's 2012.

Holy passing time, Batman.

At some point in my 20's, I was celebrating New Year's and someone told me (my apologies that I can't remember exactly who, but I was over 21 and it was New Year's so a bit o'alcohol was involved) that whatever you were doing at midnight on New Year's would be the thing you were doing for the rest of the year.

So far I have not found that to be true. Maybe that's why I can't remember who told me that. Cause, you know, even though I was talking to them that New Year's, I haven't been talking to them since.

This year, we got together with some friends and actually made it until midnight, kids included. It was nice. Low key, relaxing, good family time. And I know that it is doubtful that our year will continue in that pattern. Robert's deploying and in my experience, that's not exactly a relaxing thing. I'm already gritting my teeth in preparation for the deployment fall out.

Last time, the kids and I both got sick right after he left which led to my appointment with one of the biggest a-holes on the planet, I had to take Tucker to a pediatric neurology appointment in Ramstein that did not go well on any level, Tucker slammed his finger in the bathroom door and had to have his finger surgically put back together, and I gained like 30 pounds. Fun!

But all that's in the past. I'm sure there are going to be...complications....with this deployment too. But whatever it is, we'll get through it. By the time the kids get out of school for the summer, the deployment will almost be over. Much better than being stuck in a third floor apartment with two kids under 4. In a foreign country. And very few friends. And horrible neighbors.

Happy New Year, people!