I have my bikini body back. FINALLY. That said, I didn't exactly have the greatest bikini body before I got pregnant, and that hasn't changed, but I think I can say that I look almost as good in a bikini NOW as I did THEN ("then" being before Ironman gave me a set of six-pack abs...I doubt we will ever see those puppies again).
So, I guess that's really the best I can hope for.
Before Ironman training (in 2009), I weighed about 143 pounds. That's a size 10 and on the high end of the BMI scale. My dearm goal was to get down to a size 8...I've NEVER been a size 8. Not even in high school when I was a skinny minny.
Alas, Ironman training began and while I got VERY toned, I did not lose a single pound, nor drop a single inch. I had rock hard abs, could do 100 push ups, and about a million V-ups before collapsing, but I didn't lose a single pound or a single inch. I was still a size 10.
After Ironman, I started seeing some doctors because that's just not normal. I was diagnosed with PCOS. In short, there is a fat girl version and a skinny girl version. I had the fat girl version and the only reason I didn't weigh 400lbs is because I was training for an Ironman and making healthy food choices. I began getting treated for insulin resistance with a medication called Metformin which initially made me want to hurl, but once I got regulated on it, I felt amazing and the weight started dropping off. In the summer of 2010, I was the skinniest I have been since mid-high school - 136 pounds - but still a solid size 10.
Those effing pants!! Makes me crazy. Luckily, my husband likes a girl with some hips. But really I think he just says that because he doesn't want to buy me all new pants.
Then I got pregnant. My pre-pregnancy weight was 136 pounds (but I consider my REAL pre-pregnancy weight to be about 143). By the end of those 40 weeks, I had grown to a solid 177 pounds. I weighed more than Tommy (but he was training for Ironman and therefore at his optimal race weight, soooo, I tried not to dwell on it).
I was told that breastfeeding would make the weight melt off.
HAHAHAHAHAAHAHA.
Breastfeeding made me want to become a cannibal because then there would ALWAYS be food available to me. Breastfeeding made me the hungriest person in the world. I would have beaten some starving Ethiopians for their dinner. Seriously. I would wake up 2-3 times a night, RAVENOUS, and eat a few slices of pizza or a few bowls of cereal or whatever (a couple of timese a night). I kept snacks next to my boppie because while I was feeding Anna I would sometimes get so hungry I would cry. Not to be rude, but you can't lose weight if you are eating 124 large pizzas a day. I'm just saying. And I'm telling you that I was NEVER full. Ever.
Then I stopped breastfeeding. And while I had developed some terrible habits (McDonald's Chicken Biscuit anyone??), I was no longer starving and was able to at least ATTEMPT to make good choices. But bad habits are hard to break and it's been tough going. I was finally able to control my hunger. THANK GOODNESS.
Getting into the routine of work, baby, working out, preparing meals made a huge difference for me and I started seeing some results.
By Christmas, I was down to 146 pounds.I made a new years resolution that in 10 weeks, I would lose 10 pounds. 10 weeks just also happens to be my birthday and the start of summer (here in Texas). That's 1 pound a week for 10 weeks. I'm 4 weeks in and have lost 4 pounds, but I know these last 6 pounds are going to be the hardest...since I was never able to lose them before.
But I'm gonna try!!
And finally, today, when I looked in the mirror, I wasn't repulsed by what I saw. 142 pounds of me wasn't gross. My boobs were a little saggier (but they are so microscopically small, that it don't really matter), and my belly is flabbier, but overall, I'm about back to where I was before the Ironman. I wore a bikini then, so I can wear a bikini now. Can't say that I will rock it, but you probably won't vomit.
At 6:30AM this morning, in 50 degree weather, I put on my bikini just to be sure. Lo and behold, it wasn't too bad.
6 more pounds to lose. 6 more packs of abs to find. I can do it.
Showing posts with label Being Naked. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Being Naked. Show all posts
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Ironman Envy!
Ironman Texas was this past weekend and now that the initial exhaustion is over, I can blog. I'm telling you now, spectating Ironman is almost as hard as racing it. Spectating is a sport and I am sore from my participation.
Tommy raced like a champ and I know we are all glad the race is over and behind us! He didn't really want to race (he did not enjoy his experience in Cozumel) but signed up because I wanted him to...and then I got pregnant. Ooops. But he put in the long hours of training before Anna arrived and did what he could once she was here. It wasn't the optimal training season, but it is what it is!
I dropped Tommy off in the Woodlands on Friday night so he could stay at the hotel and get a decent nights sleep before the race. I came home and spent the evening packing for a day in the sun with a newborn. Ha.
I wasn't sure Anna and I would make it for the swim in the morning, but we did! We got there in time to see the 1st pro get out of the water and to see Tommy get his bike! I had to wake up at 2AM to get there, but I am so glad we did. She had this adorable UnderArmour outfit that my mom's BFF sent to me...she wore it for all of 20 seconds before she shat all over it.
He gave us a kiss before rolling out. It was then that I realized I was covered in poop. So romantic. I didn't see many of my other friends get on their bikes because I spent the next 30 minutes cleaning poop off my hands, my camera, the Anna, the diaper bag and the carseat. I stuck her in the Bjorn so the carseat could dry out a little and we watched the end of the swim. And then I had to go to the port-a-potty. With Anna in the Bjorn. Triathlon is a nasty nasty sport.
After most of the people had left for the bike, Anna and I went to the hotel for snacks and naptime. And air conditioning. I love air conditioning.
The hardest part of the day was not actually toting a 5 week old baby around outside all day (alone), but the logistics of it all. How do you pack enough cold breastmilk to last all day without breaking your back or tipping over your stroller? How do you pump without having to go back to the hotel every 3 hours? How do you pack enough food and drink for yourself? How do you plan on enough diapers and clothes for blowouts? What if the stroller gets too hot? Don't forget the Bjorn. Or the clip-on fan. Or the mosquito netting. Or your camera. Or phone. Or wallet. Oh dear lord. The logistics of it all were enough to essplode the brains of a small village of geniuses. Let's be honest though, I LOVE logistics and I was kind of in hog heaven planning for all the possible risks and doing it all as minimalistically as possible. I even remembered toilet paper for port-a-potty trips and a small jar of dish soap so I could wash bottles. I mean, if you ever need a logistics planner, I'm your gal. That said, if I had to do it all over again, I would have packed her powdered formula for the day so I wouldn't have to worry about keeping breastmilk cold...but I didn't think of that genius idea until 2am when I was getting ready to leave, and I decided 2am was not the appropriate time to learn how to make a bottle of formula. The milk thing worked out just fine though. It was messy, but the Anna had food!
Anna and I spent the day wandering between groups of friends, tracking down Tommy and just enjoying the great outdoors. It was balls hot, but we were expecting WAY worse, so all in all, it was a gorgeous day. the breeze on the canal made things very bearable. And the heat kind of made Anna comatose (bonus!)...she was a champ all day long!
After naptime, our first stop was to hang out at the end of the bike course so we could see Tommy coming into T2. He finished looking strong!! Then we went to join our friends to hang out on the run course at about mile 0.5. The run course was 3 loops - each about 8 miles long - so I was able to see Tommy at mile 0.5 and then cross the canal and see him again at about mile 5.
Anna and I crossed the canal and caught up with him around mile 5!
We spent the day wandering between groups of friends...I walked at LEAST 10 miles (if not 13-15), pushing a jogging stroller in flip flops. The flops were not my smartest decision. I had a blast seeing friends, watching the race and tracking down Tommy at various points on the course. I may or may not have cried several times throughout the day - sometimes due to jealousy and sometimes just because I get so overcome by Ironman. I just love it soooo much!
We saw Tommy for the last time around mile 22 and walked with him for a mile or so. He was really hurting but was almost done!! I had realized earlier in the day that there was no way I was going to be able to get close to the finish line with my giant stroller so I jumped ship when we got close to transition and headed down to get his bike and gear bags so I could take them back to the hotel and he wouldn't have to worry about them when he was done. Unfortunately, at this point, I was kind of done - Anna was chillin' in the Bjorn and my shoulders were hurting, my feet were hurting because I was an idiot and wore flip flops, and I kept picking the wrong side of transition to try to get into. Pushing that stroller through sh1ttons of people is like trying to fit my post-partum ass in my pre-pregnancy jeans. Unpleasant for everyone involved.
I ran into an old friend of mine from college, the lovely and wonderful Cayla (who gets her meat for free) and her mom and sister. They asked if there was anything if they could do for me and offered to get Tommy's bike and gear bags for me. I didn't realize exactly how tired I was until that moment. I started crying out of gratitude. They saved me another quarter mile of walking through transition and then Cayla helped me steer Tommy's bike back to the hotel. These women pretty much saved my sanity that night. I seriously had no idea how exhausted I was until they offered to help. Apparently spectating Ironman with an infant on 3 hours of sleep is less than optimal. Ha. I seriously owe them big time. THANKYOUGUYSSOMUCH.
I got back to the hotel and was planning on taking a quick shower and then packing up the Anna in the bjorn to try to brave the finish line, but Tommy called and said he was done and was heading back so I just packed up the room.
He didn't quite have the race he had hoped for, but he still did amazingly well considering the heat and his training hadn't been optimal at the end. I am so proud of him for sticking it out and finishing despite not really wanting to. He is so strong!
We realized when we got back that his morning clothes bag was not in the gear bags we got from transition so I had to trek back down to the finish line to find that bag...whoever decided not to put all the gear bags in the same place is a dumbass and I hate them. But whatever. We got packed up and headed out and finally got home around 11:30PM. I bathed Anna and put her to bed and finally, after being awake for 24 hours, I crawled into bed around 2...and slept like I had just finished an Ironman.
I am so proud of Tommy for putting in the hours of training required to finish this race. And not only that, he did it while being an amazing husband becoming a new father. He is amazing and goes above and beyond in loving and taking care of Anna and I. We are so lucky to have him.
And now we are all so lucky that it's over. Haha. It was a huge stress on all of us the last few months and I think we are all glad that it is finally over. Tommy can relax, focus on work, us, and some Honey-dos that have been stressing him out...and I get to take advantage of his lack of exercising to focus on my own fitness and my race in August. :)
Congrats to the most wonderful husband, bestest friend, and loving father in the whole world - you are an Ironman! Again!
Tommy raced like a champ and I know we are all glad the race is over and behind us! He didn't really want to race (he did not enjoy his experience in Cozumel) but signed up because I wanted him to...and then I got pregnant. Ooops. But he put in the long hours of training before Anna arrived and did what he could once she was here. It wasn't the optimal training season, but it is what it is!
I dropped Tommy off in the Woodlands on Friday night so he could stay at the hotel and get a decent nights sleep before the race. I came home and spent the evening packing for a day in the sun with a newborn. Ha.
| #915 Ready to Rock!! |
| In traditional triathlon fashion, we ran into just about everyone we know at bike check in. I heart the tri community. |
| #160 will be using a stroller for the bike portion of the race. Anna was not amused. |
| Baby running gear. OMG. |
| Heat makes baby comatose. |
| Tommy headed out for 112 beautiful miles! |
After most of the people had left for the bike, Anna and I went to the hotel for snacks and naptime. And air conditioning. I love air conditioning.
The hardest part of the day was not actually toting a 5 week old baby around outside all day (alone), but the logistics of it all. How do you pack enough cold breastmilk to last all day without breaking your back or tipping over your stroller? How do you pump without having to go back to the hotel every 3 hours? How do you pack enough food and drink for yourself? How do you plan on enough diapers and clothes for blowouts? What if the stroller gets too hot? Don't forget the Bjorn. Or the clip-on fan. Or the mosquito netting. Or your camera. Or phone. Or wallet. Oh dear lord. The logistics of it all were enough to essplode the brains of a small village of geniuses. Let's be honest though, I LOVE logistics and I was kind of in hog heaven planning for all the possible risks and doing it all as minimalistically as possible. I even remembered toilet paper for port-a-potty trips and a small jar of dish soap so I could wash bottles. I mean, if you ever need a logistics planner, I'm your gal. That said, if I had to do it all over again, I would have packed her powdered formula for the day so I wouldn't have to worry about keeping breastmilk cold...but I didn't think of that genius idea until 2am when I was getting ready to leave, and I decided 2am was not the appropriate time to learn how to make a bottle of formula. The milk thing worked out just fine though. It was messy, but the Anna had food!
Anna and I spent the day wandering between groups of friends, tracking down Tommy and just enjoying the great outdoors. It was balls hot, but we were expecting WAY worse, so all in all, it was a gorgeous day. the breeze on the canal made things very bearable. And the heat kind of made Anna comatose (bonus!)...she was a champ all day long!
After naptime, our first stop was to hang out at the end of the bike course so we could see Tommy coming into T2. He finished looking strong!! Then we went to join our friends to hang out on the run course at about mile 0.5. The run course was 3 loops - each about 8 miles long - so I was able to see Tommy at mile 0.5 and then cross the canal and see him again at about mile 5.
| Mile 0.5ish. Looking strong but says he feels like death. |
| Looking good at Mile 5! |
| That's one good lookin' piece of ace right there. |
| A daddy and his girl. She says, "Dad, this triathlon sh1t is hot. Can we go home now?" |
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| He loves the horsey dance. |
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| My husband is hot. |
I ran into an old friend of mine from college, the lovely and wonderful Cayla (who gets her meat for free) and her mom and sister. They asked if there was anything if they could do for me and offered to get Tommy's bike and gear bags for me. I didn't realize exactly how tired I was until that moment. I started crying out of gratitude. They saved me another quarter mile of walking through transition and then Cayla helped me steer Tommy's bike back to the hotel. These women pretty much saved my sanity that night. I seriously had no idea how exhausted I was until they offered to help. Apparently spectating Ironman with an infant on 3 hours of sleep is less than optimal. Ha. I seriously owe them big time. THANKYOUGUYSSOMUCH.
I got back to the hotel and was planning on taking a quick shower and then packing up the Anna in the bjorn to try to brave the finish line, but Tommy called and said he was done and was heading back so I just packed up the room.
He didn't quite have the race he had hoped for, but he still did amazingly well considering the heat and his training hadn't been optimal at the end. I am so proud of him for sticking it out and finishing despite not really wanting to. He is so strong!
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| The finishers chute of Ironman Texas. There is really nothing like it. A.Maze.Ing. |
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| Tommy, you are an Ironman! |
I am so proud of Tommy for putting in the hours of training required to finish this race. And not only that, he did it while being an amazing husband becoming a new father. He is amazing and goes above and beyond in loving and taking care of Anna and I. We are so lucky to have him.
And now we are all so lucky that it's over. Haha. It was a huge stress on all of us the last few months and I think we are all glad that it is finally over. Tommy can relax, focus on work, us, and some Honey-dos that have been stressing him out...and I get to take advantage of his lack of exercising to focus on my own fitness and my race in August. :)
Congrats to the most wonderful husband, bestest friend, and loving father in the whole world - you are an Ironman! Again!
Friday, May 13, 2011
Portable Peeing Devices.
I've decided that someone needs to make a Sneaky Leaker for Miss Anna. Or a She-Wee. Or something, because seriously, this diapering thing is out of control. Yesterday was a 4 bath day and today we were on our third outfit by 9am. I've lost track of the outfit count at this point.
I learned of the She-Wee when Tommy and I first got into triathlon and I was curious what women did during races. If you google "women peeing in triathlon", the She-Wee is the first link. Stay classy triathletes. I never did purchase the She-Wee, because I quickly learned the peeing your pants is totally acceptable while racing and I quickly mastered this skill. I recommend not touching me post-race. And not biking behind me. And, in general, if I am sitting on a curb in the middle of the run, I'm fine...just trying to preserve my socks. Regardless, making a baby sized version of this would sell like hotcakes (or bagels if you are Heidi Klum).
Triathlon is gross.
In exercise related news, the running is going really well. I am LOVING being outside but I am still slower than crap and sooo out of shape. The little underpasses in my neighborhood (we don't have hills, just underpasses and overpasses), used to be cake, but now they are a force to be reckoned with. Especially against the wind. Pushing a jogging stroller. So much pain! I ran today with my friend Merry and it was wonderful. It's amazing how much better I can feel when I don't run in the heat of the day and can leave the Anna at home. I was a running champion!
I signed up for my first post-baby race. It's a sprint tri in August - I hope I have enough time to prepare. My only goal is to not embarrass myself. I'd like to bike 20mph and run 8:30s...if I can do that, I will be COMPLETELY happy. I haven't been on a bike yet (the fear of the teeny tiny seat hasn't gone away yet), but I'm hoping I didn't lose too much of that fitness since I was spinning up until the last month of pregnancy...we will see!
I may also try to do a few 5k and 10ks this summer, but since triathlon is my first love, it's also top priority on the list! Tommy is racing Ironman Texas next weekend and he will rock it - even though the last 5 weeks of training were probably not what one would want their last 5 weeks to look like leading up to an IM. He will be amazing. And either way, training on no sleep because of living with a newborn is no small feat! I am so proud of him! But afterwards, I get to race...and I am soooo excited!!
| 4 weeks old and modeling baby denim. There is little else in this world that is more cute than baby denim. |
I learned of the She-Wee when Tommy and I first got into triathlon and I was curious what women did during races. If you google "women peeing in triathlon", the She-Wee is the first link. Stay classy triathletes. I never did purchase the She-Wee, because I quickly learned the peeing your pants is totally acceptable while racing and I quickly mastered this skill. I recommend not touching me post-race. And not biking behind me. And, in general, if I am sitting on a curb in the middle of the run, I'm fine...just trying to preserve my socks. Regardless, making a baby sized version of this would sell like hotcakes (or bagels if you are Heidi Klum).
Triathlon is gross.
In exercise related news, the running is going really well. I am LOVING being outside but I am still slower than crap and sooo out of shape. The little underpasses in my neighborhood (we don't have hills, just underpasses and overpasses), used to be cake, but now they are a force to be reckoned with. Especially against the wind. Pushing a jogging stroller. So much pain! I ran today with my friend Merry and it was wonderful. It's amazing how much better I can feel when I don't run in the heat of the day and can leave the Anna at home. I was a running champion!
I signed up for my first post-baby race. It's a sprint tri in August - I hope I have enough time to prepare. My only goal is to not embarrass myself. I'd like to bike 20mph and run 8:30s...if I can do that, I will be COMPLETELY happy. I haven't been on a bike yet (the fear of the teeny tiny seat hasn't gone away yet), but I'm hoping I didn't lose too much of that fitness since I was spinning up until the last month of pregnancy...we will see!
I may also try to do a few 5k and 10ks this summer, but since triathlon is my first love, it's also top priority on the list! Tommy is racing Ironman Texas next weekend and he will rock it - even though the last 5 weeks of training were probably not what one would want their last 5 weeks to look like leading up to an IM. He will be amazing. And either way, training on no sleep because of living with a newborn is no small feat! I am so proud of him! But afterwards, I get to race...and I am soooo excited!!
| Stop looking at me. Or else. |
| I may have a little Nazi baby. She is a work in progress. |
| Winner! |
| Heisman Trophy Winner! |
| I love my daddy! |
Sunday, May 08, 2011
Brag.
The intent of this post is entirely to boast the cuteness of my little monster. If that nauseates you, and it should, I recommend that you stop reading now. However, if you live in the greater Houston metro, I recommend you look through this photos and then call Studio Ainsley Photography to set up your next photo session. This woman is a genius.
I apologize if you have vomited on yourself. Send me a bill. I will pay your dry cleaning.
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| My wonderful family! |
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| Adorable little monster! |
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| My gorgeous child and my ridiculous addiction to Etsy. |
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| How she was able to get this picture is absolutely baffling to me. I worship her. |
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| My cute nugget! |
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| Darn you Etsy and your extreme cuteness! |
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| Etsy took most of my paycheck this month. Totally worth it. |
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| This is the face that Anna made for most of her first 2 weeks. |
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| This is the face we WISH she had made for most of her first 2 weeks. |
Hiatus!
Hopefully my hiatus is over, but let's be honest, since I don't get out of the house all that much, not that much is happening to me outside of explosive diarrhea and spit up. That is not to say that explosive diarrhea is not hysterical (when it is happening on someone else), but just to say that it happens so often that really, I wouldn't be able to keep up with the blog.
The first two weeks of Anna's life were rough...she did nothing but scream 24 hours a day. She didn't sleep...she just screamed. But we got her all loaded up on Prevacid and Zantac (for reflux) and she is like a new little baby. She is still pretty fussy and doesn't sleep much, but she isn't inconsolable...DRASTIC improvement. We will take it!
At 8 days old, Tommy and I couldn't take the confinement to the house much more, so we ventured out to the neighborhood bar/restaurant. We loaded up our little monster, walked the few blocks, and of course she started screaming the minute we arrived...but I think the heat finally knocked her out and we were able to enjoy a glass of wine and a tasty dinner. It was magical.
At one point, in the middle of the night, I came downstairs to find Tommy and Anna, both butt naked because the poop had gotten so out of control that both individuals required baths. I went back to bed. :) They say to sleep when the baby sleeps...but since our baby doesn't really sleep, I figure I can sleep when she poops on someone. It's the perfect arrangement. I'm so rested.
I've started running again...and it's UGLY. Like really ugly. Me and my BOB have some getting to know each other to do. That thing is heavy and not particularly aerodynamic. And you wouldn't think an 8lb baby would be all that hard to push, but you try to run while carrying an 8lb weight and see how it feels. Then push it in a giant un-aero stroller. Ow. My arms hurt. But, I'm running and it is AMAZING. I'm trying to ease back into it, so I'm starting with 5/1's for 3 miles and then next week, I will ramp up to 6/1's and then the next week 7/1's, etc...until I get to running the full 3 miles...then I will increase the mileage. It's painful, but man, it feels soooo good to be out there sweating again.
My mom came in town this week - it was Tommy's first week back at work - and it was soo good to have her here. It really does take a village to raise a baby! Haha. Having a spare pair of hands around was amazing. And then my sister came for the weekend and we had a great time!
We were discussing who Anna looks like and we found this picture of my mom...my mom and Anna could be twins.
The first two weeks of Anna's life were rough...she did nothing but scream 24 hours a day. She didn't sleep...she just screamed. But we got her all loaded up on Prevacid and Zantac (for reflux) and she is like a new little baby. She is still pretty fussy and doesn't sleep much, but she isn't inconsolable...DRASTIC improvement. We will take it!
| 2 Weeks Old and Terrified of Leonardo the Terrible Monster |
| 3 Weeks Old and Still Hating Lenny. |
| Our first outing. We made sure to get a table in the back, near the exit should we need to make a hasty escape. |
| I don't think she wants to go to LSU. |
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| Anna's only running gear. I think she needs some tech-tees. |
| Anna's First Run! Anna, you are an Ironman!! |
We were discussing who Anna looks like and we found this picture of my mom...my mom and Anna could be twins.
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| Mom |
| Anna, aka Mom's Twin |
| 3 Generations! |
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Workout of the Day
I walked to the mailbox today. Man, that sh1t is far away.
That said, the stairs in my house are no longer the daunting task that they were during pregnancy. I can actually walk up them without having to take a break mid-way.
My body looks a lot like it did in college. A little swollen, big boobs, and a beer gut. Although, back then, it was due to the beer. And tequila. And whiskey. And cheese fries. Oh, the cheese fries.
My goal for Friday is to walk our street. It's about a half mile long...so there and back will be a mile. It's our usual dog walking path, but I will probably do it without the pugzys because it will likely take me at least an hour. Stupid stitches. Making me an invalid. I was watching The Biggest Loser tonight (BTW - what is UP with all the bungee jumping? I don't watch this show to watch bungee jumping or to hear stupid metaphors about life that are related to bungee jumping. I watch it for the workouts and the weight loss. End rant.) and was VERY jealous of their workouts. And then I looked through all my friends pics who ran Boston (shout out to Audrey who ran Boston for the first time! Congrats!). And then through the NOLA 70.3 pics (special shout out to Allison who raced her first 70.3 in New Orleans this past weekend! Even though the swim was cancelled, she rocked it!). And then the MS150 pics... I was GREEN with envy. Green I say! Soon, little Paduwon. Soon.
In baby news, this is funny. That said, you know you are hormonal when this makes you cry so hard that you can't even it read it aloud to your husband. Dear lord. The hormones.
“First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.
May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the Beauty.
When the Crystal Meth is offered, may she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half And stick with Beer.
Guide her, protect her when crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.
Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance. Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes And not have to wear high heels. What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You, because if I knew, I’d be doing it, Youdammit.
May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers.
Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen.Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long, For childhood is short – a Tiger Flower blooming Magenta for one day – And adulthood is long and dry-humping in cars will wait.
O Lord, break the Internet forever, that she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers And the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed.
And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister, Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends, For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it.
And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord, that I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 A.M., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back. “My mother did this for me once,” she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck. “My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental Note to call me. And she will forget. But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes.
Amen.
-Tina Fey
That said, the stairs in my house are no longer the daunting task that they were during pregnancy. I can actually walk up them without having to take a break mid-way.
My body looks a lot like it did in college. A little swollen, big boobs, and a beer gut. Although, back then, it was due to the beer. And tequila. And whiskey. And cheese fries. Oh, the cheese fries.
My goal for Friday is to walk our street. It's about a half mile long...so there and back will be a mile. It's our usual dog walking path, but I will probably do it without the pugzys because it will likely take me at least an hour. Stupid stitches. Making me an invalid. I was watching The Biggest Loser tonight (BTW - what is UP with all the bungee jumping? I don't watch this show to watch bungee jumping or to hear stupid metaphors about life that are related to bungee jumping. I watch it for the workouts and the weight loss. End rant.) and was VERY jealous of their workouts. And then I looked through all my friends pics who ran Boston (shout out to Audrey who ran Boston for the first time! Congrats!). And then through the NOLA 70.3 pics (special shout out to Allison who raced her first 70.3 in New Orleans this past weekend! Even though the swim was cancelled, she rocked it!). And then the MS150 pics... I was GREEN with envy. Green I say! Soon, little Paduwon. Soon.
In baby news, this is funny. That said, you know you are hormonal when this makes you cry so hard that you can't even it read it aloud to your husband. Dear lord. The hormones.
“First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.
May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the Beauty.
When the Crystal Meth is offered, may she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half And stick with Beer.
Guide her, protect her when crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.
Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance. Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes And not have to wear high heels. What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You, because if I knew, I’d be doing it, Youdammit.
May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers.
Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen.Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long, For childhood is short – a Tiger Flower blooming Magenta for one day – And adulthood is long and dry-humping in cars will wait.
O Lord, break the Internet forever, that she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers And the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed.
And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister, Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends, For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it.
And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord, that I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 A.M., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back. “My mother did this for me once,” she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck. “My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental Note to call me. And she will forget. But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes.
Amen.
-Tina Fey
Thursday, March 10, 2011
She's Baaaaack!
Okay, Debbie Downer is gone. She has been replaced with her more rested sister I Finally Feel Like a Human Again Christy. Thank the lord. Now, to reach this rested state, I had to drug myself, go to bed at 8PM and lay in bed until 7AM, but I feel human. Maybe, just MAYBE, I will eat lunch with my co-workers instead of napping in the backseat of my car. [gasp!]
Tidbits:
I have given up cursing for Lent. I give up cursing every year for Lent, but since I REALLY REALLY REALLY LOVE cursing, it's never stuck. I'm moderately hoping it sticks this time since we have a little monster on the way, but I can't teach her what NOT to say unless she learns the words, eh? Let's be honest, there is no better way to express your frustration than the F word. Oh, how I love it and it's many different meanings.
I definitely weigh more than Tommy. This makes me want to curse.
My biggest pet peeve in the world is when people sing or hum in public places. I.e. in gym locker rooms, elevators, grocery stores, etc...DUDE, I don't care if you are Celine F-word Dion, shut the hell up. Sidenote: Hell is not a bad word. My child will not be allowed to say it, but that's the beauty of me being the parent and her being the child. I get full authority on language restriction.
I did not get a single slice of king cake this year. I still can't believe it.
I am counting the down the days (2) until I get to run/walk in the great outdoors. Tommy and I have plans, weather pending, to spend most of my birthday afternoon walking the park. I CANNOT wait. I think it will do wonders for my morale. (I'm tearing up just thinking about it...) And then we will come home and eat the delicious Kroger Cupcake Cake he is supposed to buy me. I don't care what you say, Kroger has the best cupcakes EVER. Had I known of their deliciousness earlier in my life, I would have had a grocery store made wedding cake. Seriously. Crave and Sprinkles and whatever don't have nothin' on Kroger.
And without further ado and because my life is boring, the ABC's of me:
(A) Age: 29...until Sunday when I hit the Dirty Thirty!
(B) Bed Size: KING. We slept on my full sized bed when we were dating (not that we slept in the same bed while we were dating mom, promise) and I have no idea how we fit. Especially now. I can only assume that all other pregnant women who sleep in smaller beds must have their husbands sleep on the couch.
(C) Chore You Hate: Taking the trash to the street. HATE IT. But I also hate folding laundry (I will go wrinkly before I will fold) and I hate washing dishes (that's what dish washers are for!)
(D) Dogs?: LOVE THEM! If Anna is allergic, we may have to send her to live with someone else. Donny the Newfie (8ish years old) and Dixie the Great Pyrenees Monster (1 year-ish)
(E) Essential Start Your Day Item: Nothing really. I'm a morning person. Once you get me out of bed, I'm usually good to go. (I also haven't stayed awake until midnight since like 4th grade when I was afraid they would freeze my underwear if I feel asleep first. I quickly realized that frozen underwear will eventually de-thaw and be just fine...and I haven't stayed awake that late ever again.)
(F) Favorite Color: It depends on my mood, but in general, fushia (I think there is a C somewhere in the spelling of fushia), all shades of green and brown.
(G) Gold or Silver? GOLD. Always gold.
(H) Height: 5'6" or 5'7" - ish. But I rarely leave the house in less than 3" heels, so most people think I am a little taller than that. Ha. So sneaky!
(I) Instruments You Play: I can rock it out on the Rock Band Drums, but beyond that, my musical talent is pretty much zilch.
(J) Job Title: Supply Chain Planner (sounds exciting, eh?)
(K) Kids: They are a necessity for the continuation of this specie. Ha. I am 8 months pregnant so I am supposed to say I love kids and babies and yayyy! But in reality, I LOVE my friends kids and my friends babies, but I do not love random babies at the mall and I do not love strange kids who want to make faces at me over my booth at a restaurant. I will love Anna with all my heart and I CANNOT wait for her to get here...but I do not think random babies are cute.
(L) Live: Texas, ya'll. My only complaint is that when ordering something online, when I go to put in my state and press "T" to get to the T states, I have to scroll down one (stupid Tennessee and its superior spelling). I'm probably never leaving.
(M) Mom's Name: Candy. And no, she isn't a stripper. At least I don't think she is.
(N) Nicknames: CBenne, Bennett, Ben, BenBen...and of course, Christy.
(O) Overnight Hospital Stays? None...yet. I'm really shooting for one in my very near future though!
(P) Pet Peeve: People who sing in public places. But since I already mentioned that, my second pet peeve is people in the locker room who want to be my naked friends. You can be naked or we can chat...we cannot do both at the same time. AND FOR GODSAKE, THE AUTOMATIC HANDDRYER IS NOT INTENDED TO DRY YOUR BUTTHOLE.
(Q) Quote from a Movie: "You lock it up. No you lock it up. Lock it up. Lock it up." Wedding Crashers. Tommy and I probably say this at least once a day. It relates to everything.
(R) Right or Left Handed? Right, but I got pretty good with my left in high school when I used to fear breaking my right hand and being stuck with only my left (my dad's favorite quote is "paranoid is a good way to be when everyone is out to get ya"...I don't know where I get it). I'm not ambidextrous by any means, but I can get the job done.
(S) Siblings: 1 Sister - Cathy and 1 Sisdog - Belle.
(T) Time You Wake Up? Pre-pregnancy - 4:30AM on the dot, 6 days a week, no ifs, ands or buts. During pregnancy - 4:30AM, with a little snoozy snooze, or sometimes 7AM. Depending on my mood. Today, it was a solid 6:39...plus a little snoozing.
(U) Underwear: It believe in its existence.
(V) Vegetable You Dislike: Cooked carrots. [gagging]
(W) What Makes You Run Late: Not much. I'm rarely late. But if I am, it's because I overscheduled myself...ooops.
(X) X-Rays You've Had Done: I'm a paranoid athlete, so most everything...teeth, ears, knees, feet, ankles, hips, shoulders...
(Y) Yummy Food You Make: Homemade mac and cheese. Let's be honest, I have a lot of skills, but cooking is sooo not one of them.
(Z) Zoo, Favorite Animal: Bears! I just want to cuddle them!
Tidbits:
I have given up cursing for Lent. I give up cursing every year for Lent, but since I REALLY REALLY REALLY LOVE cursing, it's never stuck. I'm moderately hoping it sticks this time since we have a little monster on the way, but I can't teach her what NOT to say unless she learns the words, eh? Let's be honest, there is no better way to express your frustration than the F word. Oh, how I love it and it's many different meanings.
I definitely weigh more than Tommy. This makes me want to curse.
My biggest pet peeve in the world is when people sing or hum in public places. I.e. in gym locker rooms, elevators, grocery stores, etc...DUDE, I don't care if you are Celine F-word Dion, shut the hell up. Sidenote: Hell is not a bad word. My child will not be allowed to say it, but that's the beauty of me being the parent and her being the child. I get full authority on language restriction.
I did not get a single slice of king cake this year. I still can't believe it.
I am counting the down the days (2) until I get to run/walk in the great outdoors. Tommy and I have plans, weather pending, to spend most of my birthday afternoon walking the park. I CANNOT wait. I think it will do wonders for my morale. (I'm tearing up just thinking about it...) And then we will come home and eat the delicious Kroger Cupcake Cake he is supposed to buy me. I don't care what you say, Kroger has the best cupcakes EVER. Had I known of their deliciousness earlier in my life, I would have had a grocery store made wedding cake. Seriously. Crave and Sprinkles and whatever don't have nothin' on Kroger.
And without further ado and because my life is boring, the ABC's of me:
(A) Age: 29...until Sunday when I hit the Dirty Thirty!
(B) Bed Size: KING. We slept on my full sized bed when we were dating (not that we slept in the same bed while we were dating mom, promise) and I have no idea how we fit. Especially now. I can only assume that all other pregnant women who sleep in smaller beds must have their husbands sleep on the couch.
(C) Chore You Hate: Taking the trash to the street. HATE IT. But I also hate folding laundry (I will go wrinkly before I will fold) and I hate washing dishes (that's what dish washers are for!)
(D) Dogs?: LOVE THEM! If Anna is allergic, we may have to send her to live with someone else. Donny the Newfie (8ish years old) and Dixie the Great Pyrenees Monster (1 year-ish)
(E) Essential Start Your Day Item: Nothing really. I'm a morning person. Once you get me out of bed, I'm usually good to go. (I also haven't stayed awake until midnight since like 4th grade when I was afraid they would freeze my underwear if I feel asleep first. I quickly realized that frozen underwear will eventually de-thaw and be just fine...and I haven't stayed awake that late ever again.)
(F) Favorite Color: It depends on my mood, but in general, fushia (I think there is a C somewhere in the spelling of fushia), all shades of green and brown.
(G) Gold or Silver? GOLD. Always gold.
(H) Height: 5'6" or 5'7" - ish. But I rarely leave the house in less than 3" heels, so most people think I am a little taller than that. Ha. So sneaky!
(I) Instruments You Play: I can rock it out on the Rock Band Drums, but beyond that, my musical talent is pretty much zilch.
(J) Job Title: Supply Chain Planner (sounds exciting, eh?)
(K) Kids: They are a necessity for the continuation of this specie. Ha. I am 8 months pregnant so I am supposed to say I love kids and babies and yayyy! But in reality, I LOVE my friends kids and my friends babies, but I do not love random babies at the mall and I do not love strange kids who want to make faces at me over my booth at a restaurant. I will love Anna with all my heart and I CANNOT wait for her to get here...but I do not think random babies are cute.
(L) Live: Texas, ya'll. My only complaint is that when ordering something online, when I go to put in my state and press "T" to get to the T states, I have to scroll down one (stupid Tennessee and its superior spelling). I'm probably never leaving.
(M) Mom's Name: Candy. And no, she isn't a stripper. At least I don't think she is.
(N) Nicknames: CBenne, Bennett, Ben, BenBen...and of course, Christy.
(O) Overnight Hospital Stays? None...yet. I'm really shooting for one in my very near future though!
(P) Pet Peeve: People who sing in public places. But since I already mentioned that, my second pet peeve is people in the locker room who want to be my naked friends. You can be naked or we can chat...we cannot do both at the same time. AND FOR GODSAKE, THE AUTOMATIC HANDDRYER IS NOT INTENDED TO DRY YOUR BUTTHOLE.
(Q) Quote from a Movie: "You lock it up. No you lock it up. Lock it up. Lock it up." Wedding Crashers. Tommy and I probably say this at least once a day. It relates to everything.
(R) Right or Left Handed? Right, but I got pretty good with my left in high school when I used to fear breaking my right hand and being stuck with only my left (my dad's favorite quote is "paranoid is a good way to be when everyone is out to get ya"...I don't know where I get it). I'm not ambidextrous by any means, but I can get the job done.
(S) Siblings: 1 Sister - Cathy and 1 Sisdog - Belle.
(T) Time You Wake Up? Pre-pregnancy - 4:30AM on the dot, 6 days a week, no ifs, ands or buts. During pregnancy - 4:30AM, with a little snoozy snooze, or sometimes 7AM. Depending on my mood. Today, it was a solid 6:39...plus a little snoozing.
(U) Underwear: It believe in its existence.
(V) Vegetable You Dislike: Cooked carrots. [gagging]
(W) What Makes You Run Late: Not much. I'm rarely late. But if I am, it's because I overscheduled myself...ooops.
(X) X-Rays You've Had Done: I'm a paranoid athlete, so most everything...teeth, ears, knees, feet, ankles, hips, shoulders...
(Y) Yummy Food You Make: Homemade mac and cheese. Let's be honest, I have a lot of skills, but cooking is sooo not one of them.
(Z) Zoo, Favorite Animal: Bears! I just want to cuddle them!
Tuesday, March 08, 2011
Debbie Downer
Hi. My name is Debbie Downer.
1. I married a Katrina Evacuee, it's Mardi Gras, and I can't get a piece of a good King Cake? What the hell? Haven't I done my part for the city of New Orleans? :)
2. My maternity pants are VERY tight. They are so tight in fact that some of the stitching that holds the elastic band on is coming off and I am grateful. I have no intention of sewing them back together. Every inch counts.
3. I am pretty sure that as of today, I weigh more than Tommy.
4. I haven't slept in a really long time. I know this is "preparation for what is to come"...whatever. It still sucks right now and I am not happy about it. I get about 2 hours of straight sleep each night...and then a few 30 minute catnaps the rest of the night. If I'm lucky. If I can get a good workout in, I can make those 2 hours stretch into 3, which is glorious. However, on 2 hours of sleep, a good workout is pretty tough to finagle.
5. It's beautiful outside. Well, not at this moment, but it HAS been beautiful and all I want to do is go play. I want to run or walk or just read a book...but I can't run and I can't walk and my back hurts too bad to sit out there for more than about 30 seconds.
6. I miss my family terribly. We had such a good time this weekend...I wish they would move here!
7. I'm ready to meet Anna...but want her to hibernate for a little while longer. So frustrating!
1. I married a Katrina Evacuee, it's Mardi Gras, and I can't get a piece of a good King Cake? What the hell? Haven't I done my part for the city of New Orleans? :)
2. My maternity pants are VERY tight. They are so tight in fact that some of the stitching that holds the elastic band on is coming off and I am grateful. I have no intention of sewing them back together. Every inch counts.
3. I am pretty sure that as of today, I weigh more than Tommy.
4. I haven't slept in a really long time. I know this is "preparation for what is to come"...whatever. It still sucks right now and I am not happy about it. I get about 2 hours of straight sleep each night...and then a few 30 minute catnaps the rest of the night. If I'm lucky. If I can get a good workout in, I can make those 2 hours stretch into 3, which is glorious. However, on 2 hours of sleep, a good workout is pretty tough to finagle.
5. It's beautiful outside. Well, not at this moment, but it HAS been beautiful and all I want to do is go play. I want to run or walk or just read a book...but I can't run and I can't walk and my back hurts too bad to sit out there for more than about 30 seconds.
6. I miss my family terribly. We had such a good time this weekend...I wish they would move here!
7. I'm ready to meet Anna...but want her to hibernate for a little while longer. So frustrating!
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
One Two Buckle My Shoe.
So it took me about 45 minutes to pick out clothes for work today because the part of my wardrobe that actually fits is getting increasingly smaller and smaller. Each day is like a new adventure in What is Long Enough to Cover This Monstrosity? And then answer is pretty much nothing.
Alas, I finally picked out a hodge-podge outfit consisting of a skirt that was cute 20 lbs ago, a top that will probably never be cute because it looks like a tent (and is this really awful shade of purple...bought it online - bad call), a cardigan and my cutest mary jane heels.
I went downstairs (barefoot) to work a little before actually leaving for work (I don't get it either) and worked/ate breakfast. When it came time to leave I tried to put on my cutest mary janes and lo and behold, there is no way in hell I could get those things buckled. So I sent Tommy upstairs to get my second cutest pair of mary janes that do not require buckling because they are not as cute.
I have reached the point in pregnancy when I can no longer access my feet. I am thankful that I don't have to tie my shoes very often because it's really hard.
In other news:
It's really hard to shave your legs when you can barely reach them. I look like an assault victim.
I'm pretty sure Anna's first words will be "No Dixie no! (Dixie is our devil puppy...)
I REALLY need Dixie (who weighs 65lbs) to learn how to jump in the car. She is taking this whole "no jumping" thing a little far.
I'm going to have to start wearing a bikini to the pool. Hahahaha. The horror. Swimmers beware.
Alas, I finally picked out a hodge-podge outfit consisting of a skirt that was cute 20 lbs ago, a top that will probably never be cute because it looks like a tent (and is this really awful shade of purple...bought it online - bad call), a cardigan and my cutest mary jane heels.
I went downstairs (barefoot) to work a little before actually leaving for work (I don't get it either) and worked/ate breakfast. When it came time to leave I tried to put on my cutest mary janes and lo and behold, there is no way in hell I could get those things buckled. So I sent Tommy upstairs to get my second cutest pair of mary janes that do not require buckling because they are not as cute.
I have reached the point in pregnancy when I can no longer access my feet. I am thankful that I don't have to tie my shoes very often because it's really hard.
In other news:
It's really hard to shave your legs when you can barely reach them. I look like an assault victim.
I'm pretty sure Anna's first words will be "No Dixie no! (Dixie is our devil puppy...)
I REALLY need Dixie (who weighs 65lbs) to learn how to jump in the car. She is taking this whole "no jumping" thing a little far.
I'm going to have to start wearing a bikini to the pool. Hahahaha. The horror. Swimmers beware.
Monday, January 24, 2011
It's the Little Things.
It's the little things that you don't really think about...
...Like how the towels at the gym aren't really big enough to go all the way around me anymore. I now require twice as many towels as I did before.
...It's hard to eat my dinner at the coffee table because I can't really lean forward for that long.
...Tying my shoes is really tough...especially if I don't succeed the first time. (luckily, being the hardcore triathlete that I am, I only have one pair of shoes that actually require tying.)
...Packing clothes for the gym in the morning is hard...I never know what is going to fit. And I obviously can't wear the gym towel to work.
Girlfriends Guide to Pregnancy didn't tell me these little tidbits!
In other news, our baby's room is pretty much done! Now, we just need the junk to fill the drawers and the baby! I will post pics in a few weeks when the final touches get placed. It's VERY bright and bold and very NOT me...but it turned out better than I could have hoped and I love it! I sat in the glider most of the weekend...partly because I just like it in there and also because it is seriously overstuffed and needs to be broken in. It's also very gender neutral, so, in the event that she is actually a he, we are ready to go. (This is seriously a HUGE fear of mine...best to take precautions when possible.)
...Like how the towels at the gym aren't really big enough to go all the way around me anymore. I now require twice as many towels as I did before.
...It's hard to eat my dinner at the coffee table because I can't really lean forward for that long.
...Tying my shoes is really tough...especially if I don't succeed the first time. (luckily, being the hardcore triathlete that I am, I only have one pair of shoes that actually require tying.)
...Packing clothes for the gym in the morning is hard...I never know what is going to fit. And I obviously can't wear the gym towel to work.
Girlfriends Guide to Pregnancy didn't tell me these little tidbits!
In other news, our baby's room is pretty much done! Now, we just need the junk to fill the drawers and the baby! I will post pics in a few weeks when the final touches get placed. It's VERY bright and bold and very NOT me...but it turned out better than I could have hoped and I love it! I sat in the glider most of the weekend...partly because I just like it in there and also because it is seriously overstuffed and needs to be broken in. It's also very gender neutral, so, in the event that she is actually a he, we are ready to go. (This is seriously a HUGE fear of mine...best to take precautions when possible.)
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Lessons Learned.
I learned a lot today.
I learned why so many women fail their 1 hour gestational diabetes test. Now, I'm not a doctor, nor do I specialize in endocrinology, but I've got to think that a test that measures blood sugar levels would be much more effective if they took a baseline reading. I dunno. But yayy for the yummy orange drink in my belly!!
I learned that I should have married a fat man. My doctor informed me that in all likelyhood I will weigh more than my husband at the end of this pregnancy. This will only be exaggerrated by his desire to reach race weight by the time IM rolls around and my new found love of Golden Oreos. Once Tommy heard this news, he began to gloat...until he realized that gloating could end in his castration. Gloating quickly turned to fear.
I learned that Golden Oreos are easily the most delicious cookie in all of the land. I am petitioning to Oreo that they be removed from the shelf once I deliver. They can be sold again should I ever become impregnated again. These cookies cannot exist in my post-partem world if I ever want to weigh less than my husband again.
I learned why so many women fail their 1 hour gestational diabetes test. Now, I'm not a doctor, nor do I specialize in endocrinology, but I've got to think that a test that measures blood sugar levels would be much more effective if they took a baseline reading. I dunno. But yayy for the yummy orange drink in my belly!!
I learned that I should have married a fat man. My doctor informed me that in all likelyhood I will weigh more than my husband at the end of this pregnancy. This will only be exaggerrated by his desire to reach race weight by the time IM rolls around and my new found love of Golden Oreos. Once Tommy heard this news, he began to gloat...until he realized that gloating could end in his castration. Gloating quickly turned to fear.
I learned that Golden Oreos are easily the most delicious cookie in all of the land. I am petitioning to Oreo that they be removed from the shelf once I deliver. They can be sold again should I ever become impregnated again. These cookies cannot exist in my post-partem world if I ever want to weigh less than my husband again.
Friday, December 17, 2010
Sink or Swim?
I FINALLY made it to the pool yesterday afternoon. My last few attempts have been sabotaged by lost wedding rings, forgotten swimsuits and lazy attitudes...so it's been at least 4 months since I was in a pool, if not 5. I had no idea how my first swim would go. Would the baby make me sink or swim?
Conclusion #1:
I need a bigger swimsuit. Like a WAY bigger swimsuit. What I wore to the pool would be considered pornographic in Maternity Photo Fetish Land. And then it gave me wedgies the whole time.
Conclusion #2:
I loathe aqua-robics people. Why do they need 3 lanes? How is that a workout? Doesn't the instructor on the side of the pool feel like an idiot? ($20 says that by the end of this pregnancy, I take this class at least once...karma is an evil evil b1tch.)
Conclusion #3:
I need to stop being such a pansy and just swim in the outdoor pool. It's heated and everything but it's only heated to like 72 degrees...not to a toasty 78 degrees like the indoor pool. And I am a pansy and I love love love my hot bath water. I don't like that "Oh, it will be fine once you get used to it" thing. I want it to be fine right when I get in. Instant gratification, that's me!
Conclusion #4:
I hate sharing a lane. I really hate sharing a lane when I haven't been swimming in a long time and I don't really feel super comfortable. And then, the guy who jumped in my lane didn't even bother to tell me he was joining me, so we crashed mid-pool. Dumbass. I hate him. How we crashed is beyond me since he was just doing the breaststroke and NOT EVEN WEARING GOGGLES. OMG.
Conclusion #5:
Babies are bouyant. It turns out I can still swim! I tried not to look at the clock so I wouldn't get discouraged, but I let myself time one 100yd set and my times were about where they were over the summer. THANK GOODNESS. I was probably more winded from that effort than I was over the summer, but I was still able to pull the rabbit out of the hat.
Conclusion #6:
I don't have to pee when I swim. Bizarre. For the first time in 5 months I didn't have the uncontrollable urge to pee. It was amazing. And wierd. But amazing.
Conclusion #7:
I will teach my child not to stare at naked ladies in the locker room. Creepy ass kids.
Conclusion #8:
Don't go to a triceps specific body pump class the day before you swim for the first time in forever. Ouchie.
Overall, the swim was a success. I enjoyed my time in the pool (as much as I could ever enjoy my time in the pool) and I didn't feel like a total failure. The girl in the lane next to me was a little faster than me, so I had fun trying to keep up with her. I will be going back. Maybe this time I will man up and go to the outdoor pool where I can have a luxurious freezing cold lane to myself. We will see.
PS - Thanks for the encouragement on my post yesterday. You made my day!
Conclusion #1:
I need a bigger swimsuit. Like a WAY bigger swimsuit. What I wore to the pool would be considered pornographic in Maternity Photo Fetish Land. And then it gave me wedgies the whole time.
Conclusion #2:
I loathe aqua-robics people. Why do they need 3 lanes? How is that a workout? Doesn't the instructor on the side of the pool feel like an idiot? ($20 says that by the end of this pregnancy, I take this class at least once...karma is an evil evil b1tch.)
Conclusion #3:
I need to stop being such a pansy and just swim in the outdoor pool. It's heated and everything but it's only heated to like 72 degrees...not to a toasty 78 degrees like the indoor pool. And I am a pansy and I love love love my hot bath water. I don't like that "Oh, it will be fine once you get used to it" thing. I want it to be fine right when I get in. Instant gratification, that's me!
Conclusion #4:
I hate sharing a lane. I really hate sharing a lane when I haven't been swimming in a long time and I don't really feel super comfortable. And then, the guy who jumped in my lane didn't even bother to tell me he was joining me, so we crashed mid-pool. Dumbass. I hate him. How we crashed is beyond me since he was just doing the breaststroke and NOT EVEN WEARING GOGGLES. OMG.
Conclusion #5:
Babies are bouyant. It turns out I can still swim! I tried not to look at the clock so I wouldn't get discouraged, but I let myself time one 100yd set and my times were about where they were over the summer. THANK GOODNESS. I was probably more winded from that effort than I was over the summer, but I was still able to pull the rabbit out of the hat.
Conclusion #6:
I don't have to pee when I swim. Bizarre. For the first time in 5 months I didn't have the uncontrollable urge to pee. It was amazing. And wierd. But amazing.
Conclusion #7:
I will teach my child not to stare at naked ladies in the locker room. Creepy ass kids.
Conclusion #8:
Don't go to a triceps specific body pump class the day before you swim for the first time in forever. Ouchie.
Overall, the swim was a success. I enjoyed my time in the pool (as much as I could ever enjoy my time in the pool) and I didn't feel like a total failure. The girl in the lane next to me was a little faster than me, so I had fun trying to keep up with her. I will be going back. Maybe this time I will man up and go to the outdoor pool where I can have a luxurious freezing cold lane to myself. We will see.
PS - Thanks for the encouragement on my post yesterday. You made my day!
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Maternity Pics.
I'm kind of anti-maternity pics. Not because I hate them but because A.)I am soooo unphotogenic and B.) I have no idea what I would do with said pictures if I had them in my house. I didn't have bridal protraits done for the same reasons...and this has proven to be a wise money saving investment that I do not regret at all.
Alas, if I WERE to have maternity pictures taken, I can guarantee that they would look something like this.
You MUST visit this blog that was recommended to me by the lovely Matt. MUST.
http://pregnantchicken.squarespace.com/pregnant-chicken-blog/2010/12/10/awkward-pregnancy-photos.html
And then you need to go order your pre-natal pole dancing DVD.
Alas, if I WERE to have maternity pictures taken, I can guarantee that they would look something like this.
You MUST visit this blog that was recommended to me by the lovely Matt. MUST.
http://pregnantchicken.squarespace.com/pregnant-chicken-blog/2010/12/10/awkward-pregnancy-photos.html
And then you need to go order your pre-natal pole dancing DVD.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
It's a Hamburger!
Is an ultrasound of a fetus's labia considered child porn?
I dunno.
Going into the ultrasound, I had reached this strange place. I had always wanted a girl for my first child...the thought of raising a little ballerina was just too much for me to resist. I also always thought that those women who said, "Oh, I don't care what gender the baby is, as long as it's healthy", were lying sacks of shit. But the further along in my pregnancy I got, the less and less attached to having a girl I got. I really only wanted a healthy baby. Shocking, I know.
And then there were the wierdos who think I would be a better mom to a boy. 1. This is not an appropriate thing to say to someone. 2. I hate sports. Hate them. Really, really hate them. 3. Just because I am moderately athletic and excessively crass doesn't mean anything.
Alas, we got the news that we are having a baby with 10 fingers and 10 toes and 4 chambers in the heart...AND IT'S A GIRL! She's got a hamburger not a hotdog!
And true to a baby of mine, she gave us the Shocker just before she spread her legs and we got a good look at her labia.
Nice job Baby Blain. I think we are gonna get along just fine.
I dunno.
Going into the ultrasound, I had reached this strange place. I had always wanted a girl for my first child...the thought of raising a little ballerina was just too much for me to resist. I also always thought that those women who said, "Oh, I don't care what gender the baby is, as long as it's healthy", were lying sacks of shit. But the further along in my pregnancy I got, the less and less attached to having a girl I got. I really only wanted a healthy baby. Shocking, I know.
And then there were the wierdos who think I would be a better mom to a boy. 1. This is not an appropriate thing to say to someone. 2. I hate sports. Hate them. Really, really hate them. 3. Just because I am moderately athletic and excessively crass doesn't mean anything.
Alas, we got the news that we are having a baby with 10 fingers and 10 toes and 4 chambers in the heart...AND IT'S A GIRL! She's got a hamburger not a hotdog!
And true to a baby of mine, she gave us the Shocker just before she spread her legs and we got a good look at her labia.
Nice job Baby Blain. I think we are gonna get along just fine.
Monday, October 25, 2010
Pee, Pee and More Pee
Truthfully, other than my totally irrational (yet common) fears that something tragic will happen to my unborn child, the thing I think about most is when I will get to pee again. I am constantly in need of a place to pee.
I can tell you the exact distance (in either feet or minutes) it will take you to reach a bathroom at any given location in the great Houston metroplex. I can probably give you most of the stops on the way to Dallas and the DFW area as well, but don't test me.
I don't know how something so small has the ability to shrink my bladder so significantly but then I start thinking about what will happen when Cletus actually starts to reach full term...I'm totally screwed. I'm gonna buy stock in She-Wee. Maybe I can be their spokesperson!
I ran the Houston Half Marathon yesterday...although my name is not in the results . It's probably better this way...that way there is no proof of my slow time. Ha.
The weather was perfect racing weather for me - kind of warmish (about 80 for you northerners) and humid as hell. Everyone else seemed to be in a tizzy about it, but I heart the humidity. I'm pretty sure Cletus is gonna have gills. Part man, part fish! Almost like a mermaid, but not.
Nonetheless, I had a great race...not because I raced well, because, let's be honest, racing well when you are pregnant isn't all that smart of an idea...but I had a great race because it was great day. And frankly, all in all, I had a good run. I enjoyed my day thoroughly.
HOWEVER.
There's always a "however".
Before the race started - after the prayer, but before the Star Spangled Banner - I had to pee. Again. But I didn't want to wander too far from the start...so I just found a post and went behind that. I told the other guy standing there just to avoid eye contact and we would never talk about this again. Nevermind the 3,000 runners who just got up close and personal with my pasty rear, but as long as you avoid eye contact, they can't tag you on Facebook. GENIUS!
I was feeling pretty good, running with my pal Laura. We were both taking it easy - she is running New York in 2 weeks and I am pregnant (no way!?!) so we were just enjoying the day. I found a bush to pee behind around mile 2...and again around mile 3.5...and thus a trend was born. Laura bailed on me around mile 5 (she wasn't feeling so hot) and I was on my own...peeing on the side of the road of a race is way better when you have a buddy, btw.
I peed 7 times during the half marathon. 7 times. That's more than every 2 miles. No wonder my time was 2 hours and 20 minutes even though I felt like I was running a decent pace. Ha. And I had to refill the water bottle I was carrying at every other water station...
Over the course the race, I peed 7 times (7 times!), drank 3-16 ounce bottles of water, a FULL cup of Gatorade every 2 miles and 4 Clif-Blocs. I'm pretty sure this sets a world record of consumption at the half marathon level. I should have gotten an award.
All in all, I had a great race. Going slow wasn't easy, especially at the end when I felt like a rockstar and could have run 8 minute miles on the last few miles, but I know it was the right thing to do. And ultimately, I acheived my goal of finishing in time to get a shirt in my size (this race is notorious of running out of appropriate sizes). I got my shirt (even though it's ugly as sin), enjoyed my morning and felt like I challenged myself a little...and celebrated with crepes. There is little else more enjoyable than eating a delicious reward after a good race.
I love racing. And I love Cletus. Finding the balance is hard. Especially when I have to pee every 15 minutes.
I can tell you the exact distance (in either feet or minutes) it will take you to reach a bathroom at any given location in the great Houston metroplex. I can probably give you most of the stops on the way to Dallas and the DFW area as well, but don't test me.
I don't know how something so small has the ability to shrink my bladder so significantly but then I start thinking about what will happen when Cletus actually starts to reach full term...I'm totally screwed. I'm gonna buy stock in She-Wee. Maybe I can be their spokesperson!
I ran the Houston Half Marathon yesterday...although my name is not in the results . It's probably better this way...that way there is no proof of my slow time. Ha.
The weather was perfect racing weather for me - kind of warmish (about 80 for you northerners) and humid as hell. Everyone else seemed to be in a tizzy about it, but I heart the humidity. I'm pretty sure Cletus is gonna have gills. Part man, part fish! Almost like a mermaid, but not.
Nonetheless, I had a great race...not because I raced well, because, let's be honest, racing well when you are pregnant isn't all that smart of an idea...but I had a great race because it was great day. And frankly, all in all, I had a good run. I enjoyed my day thoroughly.
HOWEVER.
There's always a "however".
Before the race started - after the prayer, but before the Star Spangled Banner - I had to pee. Again. But I didn't want to wander too far from the start...so I just found a post and went behind that. I told the other guy standing there just to avoid eye contact and we would never talk about this again. Nevermind the 3,000 runners who just got up close and personal with my pasty rear, but as long as you avoid eye contact, they can't tag you on Facebook. GENIUS!
I was feeling pretty good, running with my pal Laura. We were both taking it easy - she is running New York in 2 weeks and I am pregnant (no way!?!) so we were just enjoying the day. I found a bush to pee behind around mile 2...and again around mile 3.5...and thus a trend was born. Laura bailed on me around mile 5 (she wasn't feeling so hot) and I was on my own...peeing on the side of the road of a race is way better when you have a buddy, btw.
I peed 7 times during the half marathon. 7 times. That's more than every 2 miles. No wonder my time was 2 hours and 20 minutes even though I felt like I was running a decent pace. Ha. And I had to refill the water bottle I was carrying at every other water station...
Over the course the race, I peed 7 times (7 times!), drank 3-16 ounce bottles of water, a FULL cup of Gatorade every 2 miles and 4 Clif-Blocs. I'm pretty sure this sets a world record of consumption at the half marathon level. I should have gotten an award.
All in all, I had a great race. Going slow wasn't easy, especially at the end when I felt like a rockstar and could have run 8 minute miles on the last few miles, but I know it was the right thing to do. And ultimately, I acheived my goal of finishing in time to get a shirt in my size (this race is notorious of running out of appropriate sizes). I got my shirt (even though it's ugly as sin), enjoyed my morning and felt like I challenged myself a little...and celebrated with crepes. There is little else more enjoyable than eating a delicious reward after a good race.
I love racing. And I love Cletus. Finding the balance is hard. Especially when I have to pee every 15 minutes.
Friday, October 22, 2010
My Name Is Christy And I Have A Problem.
You know those weird things you do when you hope no else is looking? Like, reenacting a conversation with someone out loud? Or picking your nose in the car? Or licking the mayonnaise jar? Or unbuttoning your pants before you are all the way in the bathroom stall? Yeah, those things. Those things are weird and socially unacceptable...but everyone does them. (I'd like to point out that mayonnaise is absolutely and complete repulsive and I neither own a jar of mayonnaise nor have I ever eaten mayonnaise just, but you get the idea).
Well, I have a problem.
Before I got pregnant, it wasn't really a problem...it was more of a feature. But now, it's kind of an issue.
I can pee anywhere.
No seriously. I can pee anywhere. I have no problems with dropping trou in broad daylight on the side of the road. I can pee in lakes. I can pee my pants during a run (if necessary to achieve a PR). I can pee my pants during a run if its pouring down rain because, hey, that's just efficient. I have never tried to pee in (or out of) a moving vehicle, but I am certain that should this necessity ever arise, I will rise to the occasion.
The only place I can't pee is while cycling. This is surprisingly kind of an issue when you have the smallest bladder on the planet and your ride partners don't want to stop every 10 miles.
Alas, this life skill has never let me down. The world is my urinal and I am thankful. Thus far in my pregnancy, this skill has been a bonus, because as we all know, pregnancy is a mean, mean trick that life plays on your bladder and you are constantly thirsty and constantly have to pee. On runs I can just run my normal routes and hope that I dn't get arrested when I pee in the yards of the politicians who live in River Oaks...it's a feature. No need to wait for the port-a-cans the homeless people stink up at the park. The world is out there and needs to be watered!
This feature has never let me down...until yesterday.
Yesterday I was running errands after work when, lo and behold, I had to pee (for the 97 thousandth time that day). As I walked between Michaels and REI, I crossed over a nice patch of grass with some shrubberies and I thought to myself, "Oh, I could just pee here". No, I really considered just peeing in the parking lot of the store.
WTF?
It's 6PM. It's light outside. I'm at a strip mall. It's a small shrubbery. It's illegal, inappropriate and THERE ARE BATHROOMS IN THE FRIGGIN STORE! (The bathrooms are probably in the back or the store and not nearly as convenient as this shrubbery, but seriously? Seriously?!)
Yeah, that was one of those stupid things you hope no one ever sees you do (or think). I was mortified that it even crossed my mind. Apparently I have been too free with my peeing experiences. My bladder is starting to forget what is appropriate and what is not. I think my bladder may need to be held back.
For the record, I did not pee in the parking lot. Nor did I pee in the store. I was too embarrassed. I got my new BOB Ironman Stroller from REI and ran out of there! First baby purchase = COMPLETE!
Well, I have a problem.
Before I got pregnant, it wasn't really a problem...it was more of a feature. But now, it's kind of an issue.
I can pee anywhere.
No seriously. I can pee anywhere. I have no problems with dropping trou in broad daylight on the side of the road. I can pee in lakes. I can pee my pants during a run (if necessary to achieve a PR). I can pee my pants during a run if its pouring down rain because, hey, that's just efficient. I have never tried to pee in (or out of) a moving vehicle, but I am certain that should this necessity ever arise, I will rise to the occasion.
The only place I can't pee is while cycling. This is surprisingly kind of an issue when you have the smallest bladder on the planet and your ride partners don't want to stop every 10 miles.
Alas, this life skill has never let me down. The world is my urinal and I am thankful. Thus far in my pregnancy, this skill has been a bonus, because as we all know, pregnancy is a mean, mean trick that life plays on your bladder and you are constantly thirsty and constantly have to pee. On runs I can just run my normal routes and hope that I dn't get arrested when I pee in the yards of the politicians who live in River Oaks...it's a feature. No need to wait for the port-a-cans the homeless people stink up at the park. The world is out there and needs to be watered!
This feature has never let me down...until yesterday.
Yesterday I was running errands after work when, lo and behold, I had to pee (for the 97 thousandth time that day). As I walked between Michaels and REI, I crossed over a nice patch of grass with some shrubberies and I thought to myself, "Oh, I could just pee here". No, I really considered just peeing in the parking lot of the store.
WTF?
It's 6PM. It's light outside. I'm at a strip mall. It's a small shrubbery. It's illegal, inappropriate and THERE ARE BATHROOMS IN THE FRIGGIN STORE! (The bathrooms are probably in the back or the store and not nearly as convenient as this shrubbery, but seriously? Seriously?!)
Yeah, that was one of those stupid things you hope no one ever sees you do (or think). I was mortified that it even crossed my mind. Apparently I have been too free with my peeing experiences. My bladder is starting to forget what is appropriate and what is not. I think my bladder may need to be held back.
For the record, I did not pee in the parking lot. Nor did I pee in the store. I was too embarrassed. I got my new BOB Ironman Stroller from REI and ran out of there! First baby purchase = COMPLETE!
Monday, December 21, 2009
Where Pick-Up Lines Go To Die.
My friend Tiffany has an annual birthday party (kind of redundant, eh?) where we all dress us as Christmas creatures (Santas, elves, trees, what have you) and we wander the streets of Uptown Dallas in search of the cheapest/strongest drinks we cn find. This journey typically ends at a place with karaoke, because really, who needs cheap drinks when you can have "Like a Virgin" belted out by a guy in a Santa suit? No one. That's who.
Soooo...as usual our evening ended at Uptown Bar and Grill, where they do, in fact, have karaoke. And I was in heaven. There is very little I love more in this world that karaoke.

Tommy and I dressed as presents the previous year because we are cheap - Santa suits are expensive and for about $3 we could cut arm and head holes out of a box and just wear that. Little did we know that presents are sex magnets. Seriously.
And yes, we were both fully clothed under said boxes.
I think there is something about the innuendos that are associated with saying things like, "Oh, nice box", and "I just touched your box", and "Can I see the inside of your box"...just to name a few. People are so creative. NOT. Anyways, when you are walking through a crowded bar and running into people with your box all night, you tend to hear all the innuendos you could possibly imagine.
Sooo, this year, because we are still cheap and because wearing the box means never having to find a table to put your drink on, we went as presents again.
And still, the peoples of Dallas loved it. Box joke after box joke after box joke. I'm telling you, if you are single, wrap a uhaul box, put a bow on your head and head out to paint the town red. If I didn't already have my own present to take home and unwrap, I can gaurantee I would have had success. Badum bum cha!
But, the highlight of my evening, and quite possibly my whole life (nevermind this Ironman crap), was when a guy came up to me and said, "Hey, I really like your box", with a twinkle in his eye. I, of course, having heard this line before was unfazed and turned to walk away.
He had other plans though. He grabbed my arm and said, "What's your favorite dinosaur?"
At this point, I'm thinking to myself that I MUST know where this is going. Where can the dino question lead? Surely not to his bedroom filled with lifesize dino replicas? Because that's just creepy. So, I say the first dinosaur that pops into my head..."Triceratops", I say.
He says, "Oh, so you like to fly and soar above the trees?"
And I respond with, "No, you freaking idiot. That's a pterodactyl. If you're gonna lead with the dino question, at least know your dinosaurs."
Seriously?
So, I am very grateful that I don't have date Ross Gellar's idiot brother and instead, I get to be married to this guy who is entirely okay with wearing a bow in his hair all night.
Seriously, if you're single, don a box and a bow. It's a sure thing. I'm serious.
Soooo...as usual our evening ended at Uptown Bar and Grill, where they do, in fact, have karaoke. And I was in heaven. There is very little I love more in this world that karaoke.

Tommy and I dressed as presents the previous year because we are cheap - Santa suits are expensive and for about $3 we could cut arm and head holes out of a box and just wear that. Little did we know that presents are sex magnets. Seriously.
And yes, we were both fully clothed under said boxes.
I think there is something about the innuendos that are associated with saying things like, "Oh, nice box", and "I just touched your box", and "Can I see the inside of your box"...just to name a few. People are so creative. NOT. Anyways, when you are walking through a crowded bar and running into people with your box all night, you tend to hear all the innuendos you could possibly imagine.
Sooo, this year, because we are still cheap and because wearing the box means never having to find a table to put your drink on, we went as presents again.
And still, the peoples of Dallas loved it. Box joke after box joke after box joke. I'm telling you, if you are single, wrap a uhaul box, put a bow on your head and head out to paint the town red. If I didn't already have my own present to take home and unwrap, I can gaurantee I would have had success. Badum bum cha!
But, the highlight of my evening, and quite possibly my whole life (nevermind this Ironman crap), was when a guy came up to me and said, "Hey, I really like your box", with a twinkle in his eye. I, of course, having heard this line before was unfazed and turned to walk away.
He had other plans though. He grabbed my arm and said, "What's your favorite dinosaur?"
At this point, I'm thinking to myself that I MUST know where this is going. Where can the dino question lead? Surely not to his bedroom filled with lifesize dino replicas? Because that's just creepy. So, I say the first dinosaur that pops into my head..."Triceratops", I say.
He says, "Oh, so you like to fly and soar above the trees?"
And I respond with, "No, you freaking idiot. That's a pterodactyl. If you're gonna lead with the dino question, at least know your dinosaurs."
Seriously?
So, I am very grateful that I don't have date Ross Gellar's idiot brother and instead, I get to be married to this guy who is entirely okay with wearing a bow in his hair all night.
Seriously, if you're single, don a box and a bow. It's a sure thing. I'm serious.
Thursday, July 09, 2009
Smokin'
Today at the gym (after a measley 1500m swim), I was getting dressed amongst the old women. They were all chatting away. I usually stay out of the chatter because I just want to get in and out of there with seeing as little old woman T&A as possible. I thought I heard them talk about me, but just ignored it - I never talk to them, so why would they be talking to me now? Well, one them came over, nekkid as a jay bird, and said, "We are talking about you!".
At this point, horrified as I am by the 3 foot long boobs in front of me, can no longer hide from the conversation, so I reply, "Well, what what are you saying?".
One of the old women (approximate age is 104), who is sitting totally nekkid on the bench (as in she placed her bare bottom on a community bench in a YMCA locker room...who KNOWS what sort of diseases her ass has), says, "Girl, we were just talking about how smokin' hot you are!".
WHAT?
I mumbled out some sort of thanks but I was so perturbed by the fact that my great grandmother just said 'smokin' that I couldn't say much else. She said 'smokin'. OMG. I'm still cracking up.
Nonetheless, I'm feeling quite fabulous today! Nothing like a bunch of old geezers (one of whom is likely this lady) to inflate your ego. Ain't nobody break my stride. Ain't nobody gonna slow me down!
I feel like a million bucks!
At this point, horrified as I am by the 3 foot long boobs in front of me, can no longer hide from the conversation, so I reply, "Well, what what are you saying?".
One of the old women (approximate age is 104), who is sitting totally nekkid on the bench (as in she placed her bare bottom on a community bench in a YMCA locker room...who KNOWS what sort of diseases her ass has), says, "Girl, we were just talking about how smokin' hot you are!".
WHAT?
I mumbled out some sort of thanks but I was so perturbed by the fact that my great grandmother just said 'smokin' that I couldn't say much else. She said 'smokin'. OMG. I'm still cracking up.
Nonetheless, I'm feeling quite fabulous today! Nothing like a bunch of old geezers (one of whom is likely this lady) to inflate your ego. Ain't nobody break my stride. Ain't nobody gonna slow me down!
I feel like a million bucks!
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Locker Room Etiquette
A show of hands please...
Please raise your hand if you think it is acceptable to stand in a gym locker room, butt nekkid (except for a shower cap), and dry your butt crack with the automatic hand dryer.
Insert Jim Halpert Face.
Yes, this is the scenerio I encountered today at the YMCA. I walked out of my shower stall to find an old, wrinkly woman, in nothing but a shower cap, bent over underneath the automatic hand dryer. I was so appalled. I feel like my eyes are going to fall out of my sockets. I may never sleep again.
I tried to rationalize it, but it wasn't possible. The only excuse I could come up with was that she forgot her towel (the YMCA does not have towel service at that location) and her butt crack MUST be dried completely. Air drying just won't cut it. But NO! I saw her walking around with a towel a few minutes later!! OMG.
I seriously might die.
Tommy regaled me with a story of him watching an old dude put his jewels on the counter and then dry them with a regular hair dryer.
WHERE DO THESE PEOPLE COME FROM??
I'm traumatized beyond repair.
Please raise your hand if you think it is acceptable to stand in a gym locker room, butt nekkid (except for a shower cap), and dry your butt crack with the automatic hand dryer.
Insert Jim Halpert Face.
Yes, this is the scenerio I encountered today at the YMCA. I walked out of my shower stall to find an old, wrinkly woman, in nothing but a shower cap, bent over underneath the automatic hand dryer. I was so appalled. I feel like my eyes are going to fall out of my sockets. I may never sleep again.
I tried to rationalize it, but it wasn't possible. The only excuse I could come up with was that she forgot her towel (the YMCA does not have towel service at that location) and her butt crack MUST be dried completely. Air drying just won't cut it. But NO! I saw her walking around with a towel a few minutes later!! OMG.
I seriously might die.
Tommy regaled me with a story of him watching an old dude put his jewels on the counter and then dry them with a regular hair dryer.
WHERE DO THESE PEOPLE COME FROM??
I'm traumatized beyond repair.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
I Hate Lifeguards.
Okay, I don't REALLY hate them, but I am quite angry with them today.
I woke up at 4:10am today so that I could get dressed and be at the pool, ready to swim at 5am. I arrive at the YMCA, not exactly bright eyed and bushy tailed, but definitely ready to swim, only to find that the doors to the pool are locked.
What?
I knew that the therapy pool (read: old people pool) was closed for the day, but hadn't heard anything about the lap pool. I asked the front desk what time the pool opens and she told me that the lifeguards were running late. But she didn't know how late.
I sat around for 20 minutes, in my swimsuit, waiting for the lifeguards to show. I finally gave up and decided to just get dressed and head to work.
At this point, it's 5:30am, I have been up for 1 hour and 20 minutes, and all I have done is sit around in my swimsuit...and I got to top off my magical morning with a delicious shower at in the YMCA locker room. Can't beat that. Moldy showers, crappy hairdryers, and old women boobies. It was my happy place.
I guess I'll be leaving work early (since I got here at 6am) and go swimming after work.
I woke up at 4:10am today so that I could get dressed and be at the pool, ready to swim at 5am. I arrive at the YMCA, not exactly bright eyed and bushy tailed, but definitely ready to swim, only to find that the doors to the pool are locked.
What?
I knew that the therapy pool (read: old people pool) was closed for the day, but hadn't heard anything about the lap pool. I asked the front desk what time the pool opens and she told me that the lifeguards were running late. But she didn't know how late.
I sat around for 20 minutes, in my swimsuit, waiting for the lifeguards to show. I finally gave up and decided to just get dressed and head to work.
At this point, it's 5:30am, I have been up for 1 hour and 20 minutes, and all I have done is sit around in my swimsuit...and I got to top off my magical morning with a delicious shower at in the YMCA locker room. Can't beat that. Moldy showers, crappy hairdryers, and old women boobies. It was my happy place.
I guess I'll be leaving work early (since I got here at 6am) and go swimming after work.
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