Is It Ever Enough???

It seems like every time I move I find stuff that I hadn't seen, well, since the last time we moved. Which in my case was only about 8 months ago, but still. Moving on. I came across some pictures of me from high school and early college days, and I think...wow! I was CLUELESS! And then I think, MAN! I was SKINNY!! But the sad thing is, at the time I thought I was fat. I obsessed about being one size smaller. About looking like her or her, fitting into that outfit, and worrying about my "huge" thighs and love handles. Quite simply, I'd kill to be in that shape again. No stretch marks, no marred belly-button ring scar, no odd belly flab that insists it deserves to be there, no weird looking skin under my arms that is starting to resemble Grandma Blanche's. Come to think of it, the worst body "defect" I had back then was my armpit stubble that never went away even after a fresh shave. I know, what a hardship.
But I guess it's as they say, It's All Relative.

I have three days left of a Biggest Loser Challenge and I'm holding steady in first place after losing more than 15% of my body weight. But this week, I've done nothing but stress about getting in a SECOND daily workout. It's not enough that I've been doing P90X EVERY day, a program whose mere commercials make some people tired. And I'm eating good food every day, even going to McDonald's and watching everyone else eat burgers and ice cream while I sit there with my dinky chicken nugget kid's meal and apples. But no! I've got to lose more, look better, work out harder, eat less, gotta win! And while some, okay a lot, of the motivation is simply my own competitive nature to beat my XY-chromosomed-cousin (have I mentioned they irk me?). I wonder if/when I see that magic number on the scale that says I'm socially acceptable, will I FEEL satisfied with my own reflection?

I'm gonna say yes to that one. I may feel a tinge of 'no' when I once again look at old high school pictures. But, as they say, it's the journey, not the destination, that counts. Considering what my body has been through in the past four years, I can handle a few battle scars.

The Crap in My Purse

While waiting on a friend today, I started digging through my purse just to see what has accumulated there. I'm not a big purse person. I never spend more than $15 on a purse and even then I keep it for a least three years when I finally break down and buy a new one. When I'm feeling frivolous, I buy one from Target...exactly. So after taking stock of its inventory, I felt like a list like this was just too odd not to share.

Seriously. This is what was in my purse.
1. Caress travel body wash (for those B.O. emergencies??)
2. Empty gum package
3. Hubba Bubba Gum Tape (not empty)
4. Four bottles of nail polish. If you've seen my nails, you would understand why this is so ironic.
5. A pair of socks. I guess you never know when your feet might get cold.
6. Three melted crayons.
7. A feather.
8. Raincheck receipt to Hobby Lobby.
9. A nut or some kind of questionable thing. All I know is it came from a tree.
10. An anklet, probably to make the socks look fancier.
11. A birthday card.
12. Broken pieces of candy cane.
13. A comb. Finally something that belongs in a purse.
14. Seventeen wrappers from who knows what.

What's NOT in there? My wallet. Poor Missy usually has the pleasure of toting it with her in the carseat.

I'm thinking I should clean it out, get a new one. But then, what the heck would be in there? Normal stuff?! Pi-shaw.

So here's a note to random citizens everywhere: If you're bored in the doctor's office, have a gander in my bag. Got dirty-puddle-splashed by a passing car? I gotcha covered. Wanna plant/eat/grow something? I've got your nut/seed/pod right here. Yes. You're welcome.


I mean, seriously. What IS that???

The official blog about nothing...

I've been encouraged to blog every day. I don't feel particularly inspired to write anything of great meaning soooo I'm really hoping something comes to me. I guess I can take a cue from my fellow blog buddy and just write about what's going on in my life right now. Nothing deep. Nothing profound. Nothing self-explorational (is that a word?). Just. what's up with me.

Here it goes...

We are closing on a house on Monday. Hopefully the last stinkin' time we do this ever. Okay, well, for at least the next ten years. I lived in the same house from the time I was 3 months old till I was 18, when I went running for something new and different. Now I think about my childhood home as a treasure, a haven. If it were suddenly gone, it would feel like a big piece of who I am disappeared with it.

My son is 3, turning 4 in April. This will be his fourth house to live in, not counting the four-month stint we lived with his grandparents. I'm not lovin the trend. We found a home in an area that WE love (what the grandparents think about it is a different blog altogether) and that we can call home for years to come. There's a peach tree in the back yard. I hope one day Lil Man tells his girlfriend how he hated picking up the peaches but LOVED the peach cobbler his mom made out of them. Or maybe he'll show his wife a patch of sheet rock that's a bit lumpier and newer than the rest due to an awesome curve ball he threw once. And Missy Girl...she'll take her first steps there. And have her first slumber party there. And have her first, well, all those unmentionable firsts that pubescent girls go through.


This was taken at our "Moore house" on "crazy sock day" at his preschool.


Everyone remembers WHERE they were when certain events happen in life. I want to look around myself 20 years from now and be able to point to where I was when my kids tell me they've won a special award, or made the team, or gotten into college.

Monday. We close Monday and the memories will begin. Not that they haven't till now. But this will be a chapter that isn't likely to end soon and I can't wait to start it.

Well, whaddya know? It turned out deeper than I thought. whoops.

Ten Mundane Things I Want to Do Before I Die

Okay, so everyone has a bucket list. A list of amazing, dramatic, nearly unachievable tasks they want to complete before they die. Some want to do crazy stuff like sky dive or bungee jump. Others are more culturally centered, like seeing every Pope during their life time. Some, still, have lofty goals like writing a memoir or solving a major social issue like world hunger. I, on the other hand, am aiming lower...much lower. Why set yourself up for failure, right? I'm not saying these goals are pointless or won't make me a better person. But I think they will be much more achievable in the long run.

1. Learn all the words to "Bust a Move". Cause you never know when the right Young MC lyric will be needed in casual conversation. Plus, it's just a fun song to sing.
2. Get one more tattoo. Yes. One and only one. I have absolutely no desire to put myself through the pain again, except one of my tattoos is of Jace's name. And, well, I have another kid now. Kind of seems like a no-brainer.
3. Paint every room in my house a different color. Seems easy enough, but then you have to consider who I'm married to: Captain Neutral.
4. Win a Karaoke contest. Not much to explain about that one.
5. Learn to play guitar. I mean really learn to play. I've dabbled a few times but still pretty much suck at it.
6. Grow a garden with actual edible food in it.
7. Get fit and then get certified to be a group fitness trainer. On my way to the "getting fit" part. I even had an opportunity to get trained to teach classes at the Simmons Center but passed it up. What was I thinking?
8. Get my master's degree in Exercise Science. Okay, so that one's not so mundane, but it is pretty achievable. More so than, say, curing cancer.
9. Ride/Own a bicycle built for two. I'll ride it and sing, "Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do..." hands down, my favorite Meenie song.
10. Hmmm...I guess I'll go with run a marathon. I don't have much desire to do right now but someday I will and I really want those bragging rights.

So that's it. That's my grand mediocre list. And reading over them, my last few are all exercise-centered. Never really pegged myself as a fit-nut. But some day I will go back to work and that's really the only thing I ever thought I would really enjoy.

Just so you know, I do have a few stoic things in mind for my real bucket list. But I'll save those for me. I will say that three of them are living in my house as we speak.

Boys irk me. . . They're irksome.

Yes, Braylen, this is directed at you. And Hubby as well.

This is going to be a short blog. In a nutshell, it irks me that boys can just merely think about maybe considering to kind of want to attempt to lose weight and BAM!! They lose ten pounds instantly. I mean...what IS that?? It all lumps in with the the whole Eve-shooting-all-women-in-the-foot-when-she-ate-the-apple thing.

Grrr.

My First Hurdle

I've been handling this new fitness routine and lean eating like a champ. Like Rocky. I've even sang the theme song a time or two after finishing a workout. (seriously. try it. you'll feel 10 feet tall.) I'm on week five and currently in first place in a weight loss competition. I should have known that something would throw a wrench in my progress.
Friday the fam and I went to a local park to take advantage of the wonderful snow and do some sledding. I'm thinking 'yeah, this will be fun and extra exercise trekking back up the hill!' I'm in position for my first run and a lady next to us says, "Oh that's a good spot. No one's hit a tree all day." Ummm...give me 30 seconds and I'll change that. I wish the hubby had video taped it. Seriously. One second I'm about to hit a tree, the next I'm flat on my back with hubby standing over me. Luckily I stopped myself with my foot. UN-luckily I sprained my ankle. My first thought was....crap...crap. crap. crap. How in the crap am I going to do P90X, one of the most high impact workouts I've ever done, with a sprained ankle?
I was in so much pain that night but I don't think that was the reason I cried. I was mad because I finally had so much momentum going. I had that drive to succeed, the will-power to follow through. I had tunnel vision and the light at the end was my skinny jeans. I thought, this is it. This is what is going to throw me off course and send me back to the kitchen scrounging for chocolate.
So I gave myself a day of rest and thankfully the next day the swelling wasn't too bad and mobility much improved. This morning I made hubby dig out an old ankle brace and gave 'er a go. It wasn't bad. I hobbled through parts of the workout but still broke a sweat. Then, this afternoon, I felt myself being anxious to workout again (to make up for yesterday's missed session) and it hit me. YES! I've still got it! I'm still motivated! I'm still moving! I guess it's easy to be motivated when the workouts are getting easier and I'm winning a contest but to work through an injury, well, I'm just pretty dang proud of myself.
There's a deeper level to me that I've lost somewhere along the way. Three days into Army boot camp I sprained my ankle. Instead of telling anyone and risk getting held back for a few weeks, I toughed it out. I ran about 20 miles on it and did a road march with full ruck sack and gear. I dug deep and kept going. I think I touched on that a little today. I know it's still there, the will and the force to tough stuff out, but it's just been lost for a long time.

It's a good feeling to find a little piece of me.