The sound and the fury!

Emotion always has its roots in the unconscious and manifests itself in the body.  

~Irene Claremont de Castillejo

 Man is the sole animal whose nudity offends his own companions, and the only one who, in his natural actions, withdraws and hides himself from his own kind.  

~Montaigne

So it was nap time the other day and I was perusing facebook in between other household duties. When I stumbled upon a status update that made me nearly spit out my decaf. After I stopped trying to catch my breath from laughing. Which I did so hard I nearly wet myself. I realized how much I could relate to the post.  Summing it up it went a little like this:

"If you are going to pass gas in the middle of a quiet pilates class don't expect me not to laugh"

I love this friend of mine more than words can express since she and I are cut from the same cloth. This could be a post I would write myself and due to some of the ladies in my gym classes it could become a reality at anytime. Let's face it I am in the south and all that seafood, red beans and rice, gumbo and all the other gastronomically unfriendly food is bound to show it's face someday. I don't care how low calorie, fat free, or carb healthy you make these dishes they are producers of floating phantasms du reek.  My terror is that it will happen and the humiliating part will be my reaction.

Due to a recent nominal injury caused by my ever lacking amount of grace. I was told to lay off my heavy duty Zumba in favor of things like Pilates or Yoga. The only problem with that is that you get very, very, very relaxed. A professor of mine was musing one day about how she was banned from a class such as this because of her non-stop snickering at the frequent releases of air. Not only were they relieving stress they were also taking care of other "pent up" issues. My fear is that in that in this moment of relaxation a slimy surfer could emerge causing my true identity to show its uncouth face. 

Lets face facts we strive for a bit anonymity when we work out. We have no make-up, we are sweating, and at the end of the work out we are pretty damn gross. So none of these people know me besides the occasional casual conversation in passing. I do not need to be known as that crazy chick who went hysterical over in Yoga class. I would never show my face again. End of story.

So despite the obvious hilarity of someone ripping ass in the middle of a class I can't help but worry this could really happen. I have to let you understand that I am a teenage boy with my sense of humor. If I haven't already made that clear. Dick and fart jokes get me giggling to the point of pain. The other day I was in a very quiet situation when my son expelled the most raucously foul air biscuit he has done to date. It was all I could do not to pass out from trying to hold the laughs in. So needless to say that if this happened during a downward dog in yoga I might fall out! I am literally writing this and chuckling, I am depressingly immature with my humor... I know.

The reason it worries me some is that I attempt to come off as a somewhat mature and together person. My verbal vomit aside I can at times pull it off. However an explosion of bodily proportion could blow my cover. So please dear ladies of the gym don't make me fall into a heap of red face laughter because you said "pass the beans" one too many times. Let me keep my dignity. I don't want to go to gym detention... Otherwise known as the treadmill. 

On a side note I apologize for my absence. My littles and myself were sick, then I was hurt and then the dog ate my homework. I will work harder to get back into the swing. Not hard to do when you are telling yourself "I am glad to be me" and then you say "Ewwww...". 

Since I am a complete Anglophile a little of one of  my favorite shows.

Cake or Death!

Stressed spelled backwards is desserts.  Coincidence?  I think not! 

~Author Unknown

If you are not feeling well, if you have not slept, chocolate will revive you.  But you have no chocolate!  I think of that again and again!  My dear, how will you ever manage?  

~Marquise de Sévigné

So I was taken down a notch last week. After convincing myself that taking the time to get a flu shot was pointless and too time consuming. Since typically I don't get sick. Well good old karma stepped in and you can guess what I was doing last week. Ding, ding, ding, I was enjoying a fabulous week of chills, aches, pains, and fever (and not the good Peggy Lee kind). So I was derailed from an excellent streak of wellness and healthy living. Oh well it is over now so let's move on. Onto a different topic.


This week kids we are going to talk about temptation. Not about fighting it but succumbing to it. I had an instance of severe temptation against one of my greatest foes last week. They are those sexiest of little desserts called cupcakes. Those little marvels can get me to roll over and beg better than most anything. They are the perfect tiny number of goodness. A small few bites of cake with a little less guilt... If you can manage to only eat one. That is where our story begins.


So there we were, the littles and I were invited to a lovely princess birthday and we were there in full regalia. The crown, scepter and gown the whole bit. So we arrive and the girls are graciously given their treats and they dove right into the pink perfection. While they enjoyed their dessert I felt myself getting a little hot under the collar. Who could I hand this damn baby too so I could get my sweaty little palms on one of those sweet little confections??? I scoped the surrounding area and quickly found someone more than happy to take my little. That way like a ninja assassin I could ascend on the unsuspecting frosted friends and devour them before they saw me coming. 


I wish I could say that that was the end of it. I had my one delicious morsel and I was satisfied. It was not though. Like a crazy crack head I took not one but two more of the cupcakes and unhinged my jaw and stuffed it down my throat. OH THE CARNAGE!!! They didn't stand a chance. I was crazy eyed. Like a maniacal killer I ripped them apart and savored every little crumb. One of my littles approached during the massacre and asked if we could split one and despite me telling them all the time to share I said "No, this is mine". At least it came out calmly when in my head it sounded more like a crazed Renfield. 


When the heat of the moment was over I wiped my mouth and felt unabashedly pleased with myself. Then the guilt set in... The subconscious sugar monster had won and I had yet again knocked over my good meaning conscious in favor of the beast. Here's the deal. I like healthy food I really and truly do, but I have my pitfalls as well. One happens to obviously be cupcakes. I really can't help it so I tend to stay away from them. However, when I am in a birthday celebration scenario I feel obligated to eat them. Sometimes I go overboard and hoover too many. Such was the case this time.


I really am trying folks and that is all I can say. I don't want to be fluffy anymore but sometimes my inner scooter rider comes out and demands confections. I battle that person everyday. I remind myself that I want to be able to zip my jeans. I remind myself that for every time I derail that that is just that much more work I have to do to get back on track.  I write it here so that I can tell myself that shit happens and I can go forward. 


So if you see me at a birthday party and you notice that look of desire in my eye. No I am not scoping someone out, I am eying those tasty treats. Please feel free to hit me with a rolled up newspaper and say "Down, down bad girl!!".  I will have slip ups again but this one was downright bawdy! So to the mom of the child whom was so gracious to invite us I am sorry. At least now you have a few less leftovers to tempt you. They went down nicely and are now happily nestled in my ass.

Sick or not I feel all shiny!

The greatest mistake in the treatment of diseases is that there are physicians for the body and physicians for the soul, although the two cannot be separated. 

~Plato

It is a wise mans part, rather to avoid sickness, than to wishe for medicines.  

~Thomas More, Utopia [sic]

So even though I was run over by a Mack truck called Allergies this week I am still in a wonderful mood. Extremely stuffy and sneezy but still in a great frame of mind. I love those days when you wake up and it just seems like unicorns, puppies and rainbows are flying from your derrière.  My head may be in a vice and I am not on good terms with sleep but I am in a throwing confetti disposition! 

So despite being behind on a few workouts I can't help but feel great about my journey today. I have this incredibly weird feeling that the fat on my body is loosing its grip on me. I feel this thin person building up on the inside. There is muscle growing and it will soon start burning this fluff away. I don't know how else to describe it. The flub is detaching. Making way for a leaner healthier body, which just causes me to feel all hallmark and such.  

I am not the only one feeling the effects of these healthy changes either. My littles are starting to be better eaters. They are asking for better choices. It was a triumph the other night when I made a new veggie dish and both of my older kids scarfed it down and asked for seconds. They also want to go for walks and are spending less time being drones begging for T.V. So I am wearing a happy mommy badge about that.

So all I can say is that even though I have felt like death physically the past few days. I am in a great place mentally. Having a non-pessimistic outlook is a relatively new thing for me. I like to play the part of the "funny" friend that makes jokes about myself and I am usually everyone else's best cheerleader. However I am my own worse critic. Now I am learning to boost myself up. Be less cynical (that is really hard for me!). So what if I haven't gotten to go to the gym the past couple days. I will return because I know I am in a routine now. Exercising is actually a part of my life. Not something I am just schlepping into the schedule. I am making real life changes that are sticking. It takes time but my goals will come around as long as I stay rallied.

It will take time to get this fat suit off, but it is happening. It really is. Every little effort will show its effectiveness. At some point in the future when I look back I am going to say "Wow I did this".

I am just a regular old gooey pile of unicorn poo and couldn't be happier about it. So big sloppy disgusting kisses to all of you and get off your butt and shimmy the jiggly bits away!

and just so we all know we can have it worse one of my favorite movie scenes ever! I have a pretty awful obsession with Monty Python so courage kids and endure.

If you give a mom a cookie...

Ice cream is exquisite.  What a pity it isn't illegal.  

~Voltaire

Whipped cream isn't whipped cream at all unless it's been whipped with whips. Just as a poached egg isn't a poached egg unless it's been stolen from the woods in the dead of night!  

~Roald Dahl, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory

I am having what my oldest little would call a "whiny butt" evening. All I want is to have the hubs home so that I might enjoy a quiet (quasi quiet) evening to myself. Perhaps a bath and a good book. A book? What's a book you mean something that doesn't contain picture, rhyme, pop-ups, and lasts longer than ten pages. I've never heard of such a thing. Anyways I am just a tad worn but marching on day by day.

So I was pretty down yesterday evening and no matter how much I told myself that I was glad I was me. I still wanted something to sweeten that deal. Something sugary, something delectable and for those of us on a diet... forbidden. 

I have found that with eating right when the urge to indulge comes it is not a soft whimper. It is instead a symphony of desire, a rapture of temptation that will not shut up until fulfilled. That was the case last evening. I usually try to be good and have a cup of hot cocoa with a little reddi-whip. Well that was not going to do the trick. So I looked in my pantry to see what was on hand. Well nothing ready. I muttered an obscenity and called myself a one of those health nut bitches. Until I saw sulking in the back of the cupboard. All alone and as if calling me to show it some love, a little bag of butterscotch chip. "Hello" I cooed and cradled it as I walked it into the kitchen and thought how best to use my new found treasure. I am proud to say that I didn't just hoover the chips on there own. No, I had some restraint. I was going to treat this prize like a lady and show a little finesse.

So I made cookies, not just any cookies I made my grandmothers oatmeal cookies. Which my hubs so lovingly calls "Crack" cookies. Since once you eat one you usually don't stop until you wake up the next morning not knowing where you are. All you know is that you just gotta get your next fix. So as I waited for the little morsels to bake I consciously tried to talk myself out of eating them, "Don't do it", "You are going to undo all your hard work", "You can give these away instead of eating them". Well I pretty much told my conscious to go fuck his Jiminy Cricket self and I was gonna eat some damn cookies!!!  No, not my proudest moment. 

Well it happened just like I knew it would. I ate more than the recommended amount and the inevitable happened. I woke up the next morning feeling like I had had a one night stand with Jabba the Hut. Yep, I hated myself just a little bit more. Telling myself "I am glad to be me" is a little hard through gritted teeth. Especially trying to mean it. Not to mention that after I said it I felt like I got punched in the guts. 

So I slipped a little, but I am owning up to it. The thing is I know it won't be the last time either. I am an emotional eater and when I am feeling down a little sweet snack gives me this blanket of comfort that I don't get while I am on my own. So no I am not proud of this misstep but I won't punish myself for it either. I have my new "Ripped" class to do that. 

 

Rays of sunshine are flying out of my butt!

Discipline is remembering what you want.  

~David Campbell

The best day of your life is the one on which you decide your life is your own.  No apologies or excuses.  No one to lean on, rely on, or blame.  The gift is yours - it is an amazing journey - and you alone are responsible for the quality of it.  This is the day your life really begins.  

~Bob Moawad

So I am obsessed OBSESSED with this new show I discovered by accident on OWN. It is called "Supersized Vs. Superskinny" well the premise is this. You take a dangerously thin person and a dangerously large person and swap their diets for a week. The whole process is overseen by a doctor so that no real harm besides some rumbly tummies will occur. Sound simple? Not when you actually see how little or how much these people are eating! For example on last nights episode it was Charlotte vs. Heather. Charlotte a skimpy eight-seven pound waif was eating only eight hundred calories a day, while her counterpart Heather who is weighing in at two hundred and eighty pounds is eating forty-one hundred calories a day! Now imagine having to switch and stick to that diet for a week. Well that is what the show is trying to do, show the bag o' bones that eating more won't hurt them and showing the orca that eating less won't kill them either. So after doing the diet for a week the two opposites part ways with healthy eating plans and meet again in three months to see how much the new lifestyle has changed them.

I think what I love the most is how tortured each side seems during the week on the swapped diet. The scarecrows are gagging and feeling ill trying to accommodate the vast quantities of food. While the tubbos are thinking about eating the person across the table since they are actually learning what hunger is. Not to mention that the show is broken up (in true British fashion) with shows within shows exploring other facets of diets and exercise trends.

So why am I rambling on and on about a silly show. Well my friends I have gained some perspective. No one is truly happy with their body no matter what. Even if you are skinny as can be or larger than life there is something that irks you about yourself. This is so depressing! I am putting my foot down and going to attempt something every morning to do and I want all of you to do it too. Each morning when you first catch sight of yourself in the mirror, and I don't care if you feel gross, have greasy hair, mascara from yesterday, or are even rocking some death breath. I want you to look at yourself and say "I am glad I am me". Immediately following you can say fuck you amazing shrinking mommy but at least we are starting the day liking ourselves. It will be hard I know! There is nothing like waking up with spit up from a nighttime feeding on your shirt, my hair plastered to one side of my head and my boobs saluting my knees, but you know what I am glad I am me!

So I am going to do this everyday. Every single damn day until I believe it! I really want to set a positive example for my littles. Let's face it we are bringing up kids in a very self loathing society and it is up to us to change that! I know we cannot censor what our kids see but we can give them the best example ever! Parents that love themselves for every little flaw they have.

Sorry for the soap box post but my eyes were opened and I am going to really try and make myself my biggest fan.

I am glad to be me!

Stay optimistic!

We think fast food is equivalent to pornography, nutritionally speaking.  

~Steve Elbert

No man in the world has more courage than the man who can stop after eating one peanut.   

~Channing Pollock

OK confession time, I am at the point where I am becoming quite discouraged. I have been exercising regularly and eating healthy for about two months minus a week when the littles were sick. So I was hoping to see a little difference by now. I wasn't expecting much but I was hoping to notice a little something. So I am not weighing myself regularly since your weight can fluctuate so much but I do check in once in awhile. It is always first thing in the morning with nothing on. So I checked in this morning and was down all of six pounds. What the hell?

Now I am trying to tell myself that I am probably gaining muscle which weighs more than fat (blah blah blah), but lets be honest that is a hard pill to swallow. As for the eating I am eating a little all day but have to keep up my caloric intake since I am nursing. I drink at least sixty-four ounces of water a day along with milk and the occasional soda (diet caffeine free). I officially know where every clean bathroom is withing a twenty mile radius of my home. My snacks consist of granola, almonds or a small bowl of oatmeal. My actual meals are healthy and I am actually sticking to the portion size label on the box. Where am I going wrong?

I am working out five days a week an hour at a time. Alternating Zumba and Aerobic classes. Ugh I am just frustrated. I think I am on an anxiety roller coaster since I will be getting measured by my trainer on October ninth. I just want to see this flub diminishing. It is so hard when you are trying to do it the right way! I tell many of my other girlfriends that it takes time and all the results will come... When in my mind I am thinking hurry the FUCK up already!! I want to look hot when my hubby comes home! A bit hypocritical, no?

So I am going to trudge forward and continue to work my butt off (figuratively, and realistically) . So I am calling on my inner Braveheart to give me a heroic speech to rally my fluffy self to go on. Perhaps some blue war paint and a kilt are in order?

You can take my snacks but you can never take my PERSEVERANCE! 

I am also keeping my mind off the fact that dear Mel has gone out of his fruity mind and think about him when he was one of the few celebrities that seemed sane. Yes the shiny syndrome has struck again. So speaking of eating I am off to eat my delicious tuna salad (sans mayo) with celery. Jealous? I know you are...

and now for a little pick me up. Who can cheer you up better than Drag Queens? No one that's who.

Bring out your dead!

Physical ills are the taxes laid upon this wretched life; some are taxed higher, and some lower, but all pay something. 

~Lord Chesterfield

week 4: One step class and then the sickies arrived.

I apologize in advance for the lack of focus in this writing as I am streaming from a point of complete exhaustion. I have had the week from hell, and there was no hubs to be around to enjoy it with me. It was like the devil himself had me across his lap and was lashing my ass with a thick switch. Wow that sounded perverted but was not intended to be.

So the week started like any other I got the littles up and off to school and I was to the gym for my step class. I went to get the wee ones from child care when a feeling of dread washed over me. I saw it. The one thing that can turn any busy mommy white and send a shudder right down our spines. Oh the horror my daughter had a disgusting line of snot parading out her nose. Not the normal day to day mucus which we wipe and forget about. Oh no this was the kind you know means business with the worst kind of malice.  As soon as we got home I started to push the fluids and vitamins C, perhaps I could cut it off at the pass? It wasn't until I picked my eldest up from school that I realized a little black cloud had decided to nest over our house. 

Flash forward five days and we have all survived... mostly. The eldest got it first and was so kind to pass it to her siblings with lightening finesse. So after two trips to the doctor four nights of little to no sleep (for yours truly) and a countless amount of coughs and tears. We are still kicking. The baby is still getting over it but should be back to his happy drooling self in a day or two. I might take a week to get back up to speed.  Let's just say I was looking for encouragement from my Dove chocolate wrappers. 

"Be yourself and smile" FUCK YOU wrapper you don't know the week I had. Go shove your good will up your delicious ass! Whoops, sorry it has been one of those days. I am so apologetic to you sweet chocolate goodness. Take me back and I promise I won't be mean anymore... Yea its been bad.

So my journey of health was derailed this week and I was made aware of something. I really missed my gym time. I mean it too! I can't wait to get back into the swing and get my hour of "me" time back. I was so pleasantly surprised by this discovery. I am actually changing for the better!  So I am ending it there and hope to have better news for the week ahead!

Needless to say I fell back into the arms of my lover (couch) but we will be parting ways this week... Once again. It was probably him that sent this plague upon my house to have me running back to his squishy coziness. That vile, evil, plotting, deceiving piece of furniture. Davenport though art my foe!

It's not you... It's me.

 It's all right letting yourself go, as long as you can get yourself back.  

~Mick Jagger

 Most people want to be delivered from temptation but would like it to keep in touch.   

~Robert Orben

Week 2: 3 days of Zumba, 2 of Aerobics

After much mulled over and truly considered time I have come to the decision to leave you. We just are no longer compatible. You like to hang out and I now like to get out. You want to watch T.V. all day and I want to go places. I know, I know, we have had a great run. For so long we were there for each other. Me keeping you grounded and you supporting me.

We shared many lovely evenings cuddling and watching a movie. You gave me a place to cry, laugh or just be myself. You really are the best! You don't mind my kids jumping all over you or my dogs for that matter. You don't complain when the baby spit up on you even when you just got cleaned up. Ugh! this is so hard to do. You have been the one constant in my life for so long. You don't mind if I fall asleep on your arm nor do you mind if I just sit around and read a book. We have been such wonderful companions.

Though recently I have come to realize that our relationship is toxic. You don't want me to do anything with myself. You beckon me to you when you know I have other things I need to do. You are really holding me back! That is changing now. No longer will I let your soft sweet countenance hold sway over me. We are no longer going to be as into each other as we have been these past six years. No I can't let you hold that power over me for one second more.

So that's it. It is over between us.

I hope we can remain friends and hang out occasionally perhaps even take in a movie or casual dinner sometimes. No you won't be seeing as much of me as you usually do and trust me the separation hurts me to. Oh Gosh please don't whine just think of how much longer you will have to be around if I am not with you all the time. I can see my constant affection wearing on you. It just isn't good for us to keep seeing each other like this.

And what would my husband think if he knew how much time we are spending together? So part of me is doing this for him but mostly this is for me. You are not doing me any favors on this journey by just sitting there on your laurels.

So that's it I'm done, we are through, bon voyage, hasta luego, goodbye. 

Oh and quit your bitching I will vacuum the popcorn out of you next week. Damn couch always complaining about something...

That's right I just ended my six year affair with my couch. It has been a long time between us two. So if you could just give me a moment I am getting a little ferklempt.

I see London I see France...

When friends tell you how awesome you look, drop the "I still have more to go" crap.  You worked hard and you deserve the compliment!  

~Jillian Michaels

Day 10: Zumba (of the more intense variety... Ouch!)

So was the title of this blog a tease or did yet another embarrassing event happen at the gym? Actually it is a little of both dear reader. The good news is that I am seeing real results from my diet, the bad news is so did everyone else. To say that I was mortified would be a lie I have lost all decorum for myself after having kids. So a little mishap like this is just as common as walking around all day with spit-up on my shoulder (fellow moms help a mother out). 

So here is how it all went down. Tonights Zumba class is much more intense than the granny posse class. The music is Pumping, the bass is thudding and the lights are low. I was hoping to turn around and see a group of my girlfriends ready with drinks getting ready to do the alcohol rumba! Not the case sadly. However, the class was great! I was really having fun despite the sweat dripping off of me and my lungs heaving. It was just as I was getting into my groove and P!nk was raging with "U and Ur hand" when the unimaginable came to life. 

My pants hit the floor!  

My Granny panties in all their fuchsia glory were revealed to a full capacity class. Not to mention that I had taken my spot right in front of the trainer so I could see the footwork better. So in the reflection of this room full mirrors (just what you want to see when you are jiggling all over, is three or four more of you doing it also.) I was a bit gob smacked at first. What the hell just came to be? I hurriedly gathered my pants back to there original destination. I tried to get back into the routine so that maybe it would appear that the pants drop was part of that series of steps. Since I was already beet red from the exercise the incident must have caused me to turn some shade of purple. Seriously it was like it was in slow motion and somewhere on some computer screen John Madden was doing replay coverage. Covering my bottom half with arrows, X's, and O's.  Slightly smaller O's than before though.

Thankfully not too many of the fellow Zumba-nauts seem to have noticed and I went on with the class. I couldn't stop thinking that if I hadn't had children I would have run out of that class mortified and never returned. Since I have had children and situations where my breasts, butt, and underwear have been exposed (I am sure many of you can relate). This was just another day in my strangely sitcom like life. Two of the positives that I came up with were that:

A. I was wearing some of my full coverage nearly up to my neck underwear (Husband is away and comfort will reign).

B. This must mean that I have lost some girth! I bought these exercise pants two weeks ago and they were a bit tight when I first wore them. They were even freshly washed!

So I was positively beaming when these realization came to light. My pants fell down! That means I am getting smaller, that means this whole exercise crap is working! WOO HOO!!! I haven't been monitoring a number on a scale or anything. My trainer told me that with all the exercise I could actually gain weight at first. That is due to the shock to the sedentary body, it shuts down until activity becomes routine (your body gets used to it) then it becomes a fat burning power house (At least I hope it does). I also noticed that I was not feeling like I was at the brink of death in the middle of the class. My stamina is improving also, which is wonderful! 

So I am taking this mishap as a serendipitous event. My journey is beginning to bear fruit and showing forward progress. I am simply tickled pink by this (well and probably still a bit flushed from class). So speaking of P!nk...

I leave you with the song that got me so shook up that I decided to hail the moon... literally my moon. Any therapy that will be needed for the viewing of my larger than life panties can be forwarded to my e-mail. So that I can tell you to get over it.

 

Ridiculous is an understatement.

Every man is the builder of a Temple called his body, nor can he get off by hammering marble instead.  

~Henry David Thoreau

To keep the body in good health is a duty... otherwise we shall not be able to keep our mind strong and clear.  

~Buddha

Day 7: Abs Blaster and Spinning... OI!

So I did it. I may not be able to walk tomorrow, but I did it! Did I do everything perfectly? Was I the fastest or the best?Oh hell no, but I did succeed in completing Abs Blaster and Spinning. Suffice to say that I will not be doing those classes again until I am a bit more skilled and fit. My trainer had the faith in me but my body says otherwise (My body says to flip her the bird next time I see her but I have better manners than that). I am very proud that I went through with the torture and didn't just hide from it. I feel pretty good in the esteem department but, let me tell you I am one hurting bundle of goo now! Not to mention the hour long shopping trip afterwards wearing my twenty-eight pound little on my back. Yes I am feeling a bit awesome this evening.

So speaking of grocery shopping. Now that I am eating healthier (I have always eaten healthy but now I am being diligent about it.) it is a conquest of strength. There is nothing like going down the cereal aisle (my weakness) and having Tony the tiger, Trix the rabbit and that damn leprechaun tempting you. Beckoning you to take them home for a sordid love affair in a bowl. Nope it was rice chex for this gal and I won't lie I died a little inside. You see when ones husband is gone for an extended period of time one finds other loves to fill that gaping hole in your... heart. My lover has always been that sexy little bowl of ice cream or that naughty little dish of sugary cereal after the kids are in bed. I kid you not Tony the tiger knows right how to get to this ladies sweet spot. 

Those days have gone now and I will be nibbling on carrots and granola (yay). Eating well can be very yummy but I need to find a way to spice it up. I need to find my groove with the healthy food business. So if any of you wonderful readers might pass your tastiest of tasty and epitome of healthy recipes I will be eternally grateful.  Also how do you stave off the desire to snack? I try to drink water but it is not a substitute for chocolate, and I doubt drinking Hershey's syrup would be all that friendly to the waistline. As delicious as it sounds.

So I am going to hobble myself to bed and leave you with this video that makes me laugh so hard I can't breath. I will be back at the gym tomorrow taking in some low impact aerobics... That is if I am able to move... Now where the hell did I put my walker?

Enjoy the video!

 

You're going to want to stop but keep going.

If you have health, you probably will be happy, and if you have health and happiness, you have all the wealth you need, even if it is not all you want.  

~Elbert Hubbard

Lack of activity destroys the good condition of every human being, while movement and methodical physical exercise save it and preserve it. 

~Plato

Day 6: Zumba with the Granny Posse

So today while shaking "it" in my zumba class I got called out. My instructor points at me, and like I was a grade schooler again get asked to see her after class. Oh crap am I messing up that bad? Am I so appalling that I am going to need further instruction? These questions raced through my mind as I completed gyrating my tail feathers. So what the hell could the mistress of torture want? No, I really do like my instructor but during class while I am sweating and thinking "why the hell am I doing this?" I am also contemplating all the evil thing I would like to befall her. As soon as class is over though we are all peaches and gravy.

So instead of going directly to the childcare I stay behind rolling over everything that could be wrong. As she approached I took a hard swallow and prepared to defend my graceless self. "I'm doing the best I can" I repeated over and over in my mind. As I am a somewhat decent writer I can't say the same when I am talking to newer people. I often would like to use the excuse that English is not my first language. So I stood waiting for "it" and we talked.

I will say this about myself that I do have a VERY over active imagination so a plethora of scenarios were playing out in my brain. I am ashamed to say that I did go through a praying mantis-esque play by play. My head was devoured and no one was the wiser. That did not happen thankfully. She pretty much laid it out that she wanted to see me push myself a bit harder. She thought I could be doing more. By that she said the dreaded words that no fluffy person who is new to exercise wants to hear... Abs blaster. Oh yes thirty minutes devoted to that squishiest of squishy areas. Yes, she wants me to attend twice a week and then go to the spin class that follows. WHAT!!! I am already terrified enough of going to spin and making a total mockery of myself. Now she wants me to pre-nastified and heaving from this.

I have observed Abs Blaster from the comfort of the childcare room and it is crazy! Not "girl you so crazy" (add a snap and a head wag if you wish), no it is the locked up writing on the walls with feces kind of crazy. Those brave souls in there are nuts! Somehow though this little ray of sunshine and lollipops thinks I can do this.  

As I collected my jaw off the floor and put my eyes back in there sockets, I prepared to protest. What the fuck is tip toeing through her perky little mind? I can't do that! I barely keep up with the blue-haired foxes in my class! As I prepared to come to my defense my instructor cut me off before I could speak. She must have known I was going to try and argue. "All right then I will see you tomorrow" and with a tinker bell like "poof" she was gone. I did feel like I received a gold star on my forehead, but I am also tentative as well. 

So what the old me would do is disappear from the gym until no one remembered me, and I could sneak in unrecognized. Well actually the old me would not have a gym membership. Instead I would be continuing the passionate menage et trois between the couch, the TV and myself (sometimes adding the increasingly risqué fourth of junk food).  I am (at this very moment) battling myself. I want to be healthy and fit, I want to feel good about myself. I don't like sweating. I don't like being sore. I am ripped in half at what seems like a trivial matter. I also have all day and night to think about this though since the hubs is away and the mind will play.Trust me I am not a stranger to summoning strength. I am not afraid of difficult tasks... That are inside my comfort zone. Exercise is outside my comfort zone.

So this is my rallying cry. I am going to do it! I am going to walk right into that Ab blaster class and do what I can. I may be passed out in a pile of goo at the end but at least I can try. I will then gather up my goo and get to spin class. I am biting the bullet! In an effort to be more prepared for this I have dinner ready for the crock pot tomorrow. The littles lunch already prepared, and Bengay at the ready. I am trying to be optimistic that I am being dumb and working myself up for nothing. I am no athlete so this is foreign territory all this healthy lifestyle stuff.

So with that a little  inspirational music to pump me up!

And then life happened.

The word aerobics came about when the gym instructors got together and said, "If we're going to charge $10 an hour, we can't call it jumping up and down."  

~Rita Rudner

 

An hour of basketball feels like 15 minutes.  An hour on a treadmill feels like a weekend in traffic school.  

~David Walters

So as much as I would like to regale you with my epic story of spin class... it didn't happen today. I don't like to blame things on my kids but unfortunately today it was my babies little right ear that squished my exercise plans for today. However, I will be back in the gym tomorrow barring any other further calamities.

So if any of you are familiar with health insurance it is a pain in the ass to say the least. Well military health insurance adds a few extra levels of exacerbation . Causing a large boil already festering on top of a large hemorrhoid. Too vivid? Needless to say I am slightly irritated. I am grateful to have it but at times it is really hard to be grateful while bashing ones head against a brick wall. So for pretty much the good part of yesterday afternoon it was me playing nice trying to prove that yes I had had a baby (I don't think I imagined it), and yes he needed to be seen promptly (because my imaginary baby would not feel pain). Sorry but I would not lie about popping out a small one just so I can steal some more insurance money. They apparently think I have this deep seeded desire to hang out in doctors offices just so I can squeal "psyche" when the physician enters and run away in a pile of maniacal laughter. No, I have the baby and the stretch marks to prove it.

So anyways, once I finally got all the bull pocky sorted out and proved indeed my baby did exist I was stuck with the last appointment space they had available this morning. But my poor little was in some discomfort and the only time I could get him into his new doctor was  smack dab right in the middle of spin class. I won't lie part of me was a little relieved, as I am quite hesitant about spinning since needless to say I am not the most fit nor graceful of  people. This fear is being vanquished since I will be climbing on the bike this Thursday to pop the spin class cherry. If I am able to sit that afternoon I will tell you about it.

Yes today was one of those days where I just couldn't shirk the mommy duties. I am glad to say though that the little is fine and we will probably be heading into teething soon (Joy!). Even though the gym was not a possibility today, I will still fit in a workout via video. As much as I very much dislike to exercise with the kids around. It is not them it is just my utter lack of coordination that usually ends in tears be it the children or myself. Add to together clumsy mommy and perpetual moving children and it ends in disaster.  As I attempt to follow the steps I tend to maim them or I fall on my ass trying to dodge them. I nearly broke the coffee table last time trying to avoid such a scenario with the two year old. Picture Chris Farley as Matt Foley and you can get a nice image of my situation. 

Don't get me wrong I love my littles and while the hubs is deployed my only real time to myself is when I am at the gym. So yes when I don't get my gym time I get a bit moody (that's a nice way of saying bitchy). The classes might be utter torment at times causing all sorts of maladies but they are MY time. My one hour where I can clear my head and be Jules and not just mommy. Even with the thudding music, the large group of adults, and the instructor (who is pumped with prozac and endorphins I believe) there is a sort of zen to the whole experience. I am not chasing down anyone or trying to breastfeed while under the investigative eye of toddlers.

So tomorrow is a Zumba day and I will be shaking it with the granny posse. There is nothing like hearing someone my grandmothers age singing along to Christina Aguilera's  "Candyman". It is frightening and funny all at the same time.

So instead of sitting here on my laurels I am going to leave you now and get my rear in gear.

Day 5: Bollywood workout video.

I know most of us have seen this but in the falling into things and breaking them spirit here ya go!

Lessons to live by...

 One should eat to live, not live to eat.  

~Cicero, Rhetoricorum LV

Day 4: Step Class and other adventures. (My couch and I had a weekend affair.)

The day had started like any other but, as I stood prostrated over the porcelain thrown I took a moment to reflect on what had just transpired in the last ten minutes.

1. I really wish the Mansfield that invented this toilet was related to the Mansfields in my family. I could totally rock the potty princess heiress thing.

2. One should never eat breakfast immediately before a step class.

Confused? If you are not then that's right boys and girls this mommy blew chunks at the gym. So besides dripping sweat, being red in the face from exercise I was also vomiting which won me the "sexy award" today. Unfortunately the award is given with looks of disgust like I just punched a puppy on Yo Gabba Gabba.

Seriously though I was trying to be better to myself and making sure I ate a healthy breakfast before working out. Well shoving the breakfast into my face five minutes before class was my downfall and I ended up literally flushing my good intention down the loo. I swear any time I try to do myself a solid it backfires. I am sure many of you can empathize with that statement. Murphy's law never stings more than when applied to treating oneself nicely.

So there I was really pushing myself in step class, when suddenly like a seasick looney tune I was running for the bathroom. I am proud of myself that after the little episode I returned to class and finished. What can I say 3 kids and bouts of morning sickness I know how to function after dysfunction. It's a gift really, I am so lucky... no?

All an all though the class was a success I feel it now and am guessing this is the "burn" I want. Next time though breakfast at least an hour before so that there will be no further entertainment provided by yours truly. The old swimming myth holds true at least with step class. I promise you I am not as stupid as this mistake makes me sound. I truly have diagnosed "Mom" brain and it causes me to do truly idiotic things that are out of my control.

Tomorrow I am going to try a spinning class. I am not sure how I feel about it but there is no use fearing it.  I should just go for it and take the plunge.

When incentive becomes bribery.

As I am a self proclaimed Facebook addict, I noticed one of my very dear friends had posted this question:

"When does incentive become bribery?"

I am asking myself this question this morning. I feel that the incentive of this journey I have undertaken is to be healthier and a better more energetic parent. My dream is to be one of those couples (that now I say make me vomit but actually I am just green with envy) out in there jogging finest with my hubs. Running like happy gazelle across the Serengeti.  I am absolutely envious of the moms pushing their kids along in their jogging strollers running away like mile is nothing. While I am walking at a snails pace just trying to make it to the playground. With drips upon drips of sweat flowing down the crack of my ass like Niagara (thanks Robin Williams!). Baby steps, baby steps, I know, I know, and someday I can make the dream happen as long as I work on it. I mainly want to be healthy and fit for life. Eventually one day the hubs and I will be in matching wind suits power walking (consequently getting made fun of by the young sarcastic types like myself) when we are old, living in heavens waiting room a.k.a Florida. 

The bribery however... Is the chance to shop. Oh GAWD! I am a shopaholic! I do not jest when I say I used to have a vanity license plate that said "Mall rat". In my youth I could be found there at all times. So good bribery on this quest is the new and fab-tastic clothes I can look forward to. Because don't lie it is fun to feel fabulous! On a side note; When I moved to the south I was so disheartened when I found the malls were for function only. Window shopping just isn't the same at a functional mall. OK back on topic (I have "shiny syndrome" bad!). My current wardrobe, well I should say uniform consists of black shirts and jeans. It's what fits and what I feel masks my body the best. As to not offend innocent on lookers. My hope is to have a wardrobe that would be Tim Gunn's wet dream and make Heidi Klum swoon (yes I am a Project Runway fan... big time). So I think that is my interpretation of this question. I can bribe myself to lose weight if it means I can get some new clothes. Shallow yes, effective we will see.

Now I have a question for my readers: What do you think of the Couch to 5k? I am curious about it give me your thoughts please.

Day 3: Zumba class as long as Baby boy cooperates at the gym child care (fingers crossed)

And for shits and giggles a fun moment from Project Runway!