Moot Point

For the last 7 and a half years I have been wearing the same worn out nursing night gown. Because it is the most comfortable knit in the world... and because 7 years ago it kind of resembled a sexy black spaghetti strap dress (for real). Now it does not. I mean it is pretty much horrendous. The cross over nursing aspect is loose and falling off (I'm no longer 38F) and there is a very high chance of a very non sexy peek-a-boo boob sighting... just ask the mailman. The fabric was technically hand washable but I gave that part up 6 years ago and the machine washing has stretched out the elastic and pilled the straps.

So I've had my sights set on getting a new nightgown. One that was equally soft but maybe less risque and a lot less disgusting. It is not easy to find a nightgown that isn't made for either a retiree or for having sex. Well unless you want to fork over 100 bucks. And I don't.

Yesterday I happened upon this basic knee length Ralph Lauren knit gown at the Dillard's outlet for $8. EIGHT BUCKS PEOPLE. Seriously soft. Practically seamless. Tagless. And no huge slits for my boobs to slip out of. Non refundable.

I put it on and walked into the kitchen.

"Sweet Jesus! That is ridiculous!!" Mr F cries out.

No not because it is slightly old lady-ish.

Because the fabric, it turns out, is COMPLETELY SHEER.

So much for the less risque part.

Inspiration: Myself

Me two years ago (exactly):


Me last week:
Hmm... the holidays were not good to me.

Difference? 8 pounds and 8% body fat... a whole lot of baked goods... and a major physical injury.

The good news is obviously I know it is possible.... because, well, that's me. The bad news is I have to actually change my behavior. I still looked like that top picture pretty much right up until I broke myself last year. In fact one reason I was injured so badly was because I had no fat pad on my tailbone. Even after the broken butt I was able to keep my weight in range but then, of course, the slippery slope of recovery took over. I was unable to exercise for nearly 6 months. As my muscle mass decreased my body fat increased and I have just never been motivated to work hard enough to get it back.

I actually blocked out how much I have changed.

Until now.

Now I'm ready and I want it back. It is not as easy this time because I'm not nursing a newborn and skating on postpartum hormones. I don't have the same kind of time to devote to exercise. And, regrettably, my body wants to hold on to this fat something fierce.

But I'm going to do it.

UnFriended

Yesterday I went on Facebook (which is a great rarity, I keep a profile up but I do not participate or update and maybe check my messages about once a month). My brother had tagged me in a photo and I went on to comment at my dismay at looking 3 months pregnant in it.

While I was there I noticed that my life long best friend had un-friended me.

My first response was one of disbelief but I also found it humorous and incredibly immature. It felt very middle of 3rd grade not middle of our 30s. The very notion of wanting to be or not wanting to be my friend is nearly three decades in the past... we're not friends, it's more than that.

She's had no communication with me since I told her we could not afford to attend her wedding. That was in June... and it was THE TRUTH. I've been respectful of her need for space and her feelings. I understand that she was disappointed and have been waiting for her to let me back into her life. Patiently.

Wasn't that enough? Really. Isn't just ignoring me enough? I think it is interesting and, yes, disappointing, that she needed to rub my nose in it.

Because if I'm really dead-to-her why not just continue to avoid all contact. Why reach out in a strange, purposeful, passive aggressive manner? What is my appropriate response to that? To feel punished? Ashamed? Unworthy?

Message received: I'm not good enough.

The impulse is to retaliate... or to defend myself... but that just justifies it... the notion that I did something wrong when I placed my family's well being over her wishes.

I don't know what kind of friend asks you to do that anyway.

I certainly don't know what kind of friend requires it.

So today it's not so funny. Today I'm pissed.

Gee I Wonder Why That Didn't Work

The other day Baby ran through the room and left a piece of herself behind.

Her stench.

"Go tell her I need to change her diaper." I ask Kid.

Kid runs off after her.

Kid runs back.

"She won't come." Kid says.

"Tell her she'll get a rash if she doesn't get her diaper changed." I tell her.

Kid runs off.

Kid runs back.

"She won't come. I even said this, because Dad said it and it worked...

'Mom said you need to get diaper creme on or she'll cut your head off.'

But it didn't work. She's not coming." Kid recounts.

Dedication

9 AM

This Week The Plan

I'm exhausted today.  I'm now forced to kick ass all day Sunday to get everything ready in order to make it through the week.  I mean yesterday I went grocery shopping at two stores, did several loads of laundry, cut Kid's hair, made meals, etc, and  I feel like I have no downtime to recoup from what has become a pretty exhausting life. (Plus I watched Medium, and then Mr F was talking about The Mothman Prophesies in bed, and then the neighborhood dogs starting going ape-shit, plus I had read that Asheville has 2x the crime of the national average before bed.... so I did not sleep well) This week the baby that was a no show last week is coming EVERYDAY that the other baby is here.  My stress level (which last week was non existent) went through the roof when I found out.  This is the prime example of me making passive choices that don't make me happy... or don't contribute to my families ultimate happiness.  One baby is doable... adds important income... and doesn't take away from my ability to meet Baby's needs. Two babies changes the dynamic considerably.  I need to put all my energy into the babies, and for the pay, the deficits... the energy drain, the diversion of energy from Baby... are just not worth it.  So I need to work toward being able to do something to change this... ie actually be upfront with people.

Menu:

Sunday - Salmon Noodle Casserole w/peas, sauteed mushrooms, salad

Monday - Hot dogs, homemade french fries, apple slices

Tuesday -   Beef Stroganoff w/ egg noodles, broccoli 

Wednesday - Chicken and Dumplings

Thursday - Honey Mustard Glazed Salmon, rice pilaf, zucchini beans & pepper saute

Friday - Pizza

Saturday - Cilantro Chicken Enchiladas (Cook's Country 30 minute)

Diet & Exercise:

Last week I started food journalling again.  I went all the way and measured and weighed everything.  I had burnt out by the weekend after a disappointing weigh-in (sound familiar anyone?).  So I gave myself the weekend to be disgruntled that my week's efforts didn't make me magically drop 10 pounds in five days.  I'm over it.  I'm back on board.  

Last week I did several different exercise dvds and TV shows since our treadmill is in the garage and with the frigid temps I just couldn't bear to put my snowpants on in order to get my workout in.  I also wanted to try something different and see how it went.  If things change around here I will need to focus on workouts I can do on the main floor of our house where I can still be present for the kids.  Anyone have the Wii Fit and actually use it?  We don't have a Wii and it would be a pretty big financial expenditure for us to get one but if people use it and feel that they are getting a good (hardcore even) workout from it please let me know.  If Mr F moves I might want to get one so I can keep a consistent exercise program going upstairs... the treadmill will be retired until we move (and then hopefully can move it INDOORS).  Oh plus I've decided to go for 15% body fat.... which is not a thinness thing but a optimum humanness thing... and maybe just a straight up motivational challenge... we'll see.  More on that later. First I have to finish these Candy Cane Hershey's Kisses... 

That's it.  No news yet.  

Strengths And Weaknesses

"This is when I'm at my best."  Mrs F says meticulously wrapping ornaments.

"What the packing?"  Mr F asks.

"Yes!  I have amazing spacial relations."  Mrs continues.

"You're at your best organizationally... and... at your worst interpersonally."  Mr F clarifies.

True enough.

We Gonna Live, We Gonna Die

Bitch Fest Friday

Cause I'm that kinda girl.

As for me... this week has actually been an awesome week.  For some reason (cosmic I'm sure) one baby never showed up this week.  The other one I said I couldn't watch.  Leaving me with the mean mom (but half time half time schedule and awesome baby) and the once a week toddler.  It's perfect.  I'll be keeping them until our situation changes.  It's enough money to pay for groceries and that's not nothin'.  

Mr F sold his car, but for some reason (cosmic I'm sure) the buyer never came to get it.  Which is good... because... he needs his car.  And, now, when/if we move he can re-list it at a higher price and just sell it like a normal person.  No more hate mail (I hope).

Plus I got my haircut this week and it looks fantastic.  Usually I walk out of there and look like I just escaped a prison camp for a couple of days until it grows into itself.  Don't get me wrong, she's a good hair cutter, but dude... she is not a good stylist.  

In other awesomeness today is a snow day. This time I took the snow warning seriously and went to the grocery store. My new snow storm motto is:  "It's better to be prepared than to have No power, No heat, and No brownie bars".  

It also means I don't have to babysit and I can spend the day slowly putting away our Christmas decorations and trying to untangle lights and ribbon off our petrified tree.  Fun!

Oh and today is the final interview.  Just sayin'

Okay enough of that positive stuff.  And back to the bitching!

Have at it.

You And Me Both

Yesterday when I was helping get Baby dressed, I paused before putting her diaper on and said...

"Do you want to wear no diaper today and use the potty?" I ask.

"No, I don't want to do that."  Baby says.

"Why not?  Big kids do it." I say.

"I'm not a big kid... I'm a big girl." Baby clarifies.

"Sissy uses the potty and she's a big girl."  I explain.

"I'm not going to do that."  Baby replies.

"Why not?"  I ask again.

exasperated Baby looks at me with disgust and says...

"I just want to stay the way I am right now!"

The Insides

Within a short couple of years, the years of my late teens and very early twenties, things were very difficult on both of my home fronts (my mother's and father's).  

At a time when most young people are experimenting with their independence and trying on their *real* self, I was processing feelings of shame, disappointment, grief and abandonment.

I love my parents and have worked very hard to overcome some of the damaging things that they have done.

Neither one of them is malicious.  But they were both selfish parents.  That is the real truth. And whether they meant to or not they put their personal needs over the needs of their children.

I have forgiven them, but the truth is you do not ever forget the things that have been done (or not done) and the things that have been said (and not said).  And somethings run so deep that they have altered your makeup... for the worse... and maybe forever.

Recently I received a very nice message from a relative.  And that message brought up a lot of feelings I have about myself.  I try to be a good person.  I try to do the right thing for everyone. I want people to like me and will often sacrifice my own happiness and well being to place myself in their good favor.  I do it because, of course, I don't believe that the real me is lovable, or beautiful, or deserving of much but back handed praise.

And so I surround myself with people who are rejecting. 

Even Mr F who most certainly does love me, has passive tendencies... that... feel... exactly... like... rejection.  

Remember my life long best friend?  Yes, there was a reason she was in my life... and now... isn't.

Listen, I know I'm not alone.  I know a lot of people (maybe most) share this secret.  That it is a secret passed down from generation to generation like a latent gene.  

When your parents have said...

"I'd be proud of you if there was anything to be proud of."

and

"If you make me choose, I'll have to chose you."

It affects you.  

Because I wasn't just a not-bad kid.  

When you are a good person, who has never done anything to cause any trouble (ever), and you are still not enough.  When your parent sees no merit in your being.  When your parent doesn't want to chose you... but will... if they have to.... it affects you.  

And those are just the spoken injuries that most certainly come to fill in the places kept warm by years of unspoken ones.

And so I am a different kind of parent.  A kind that neither of my parents can recognize with praise (at least out loud).  

You can't always know what is going on in the minds of other people.  There are hurts and injuries there and reasons of their own.  But I cannot fathom the day that I would not be pleased, and proud, and joyfully happy to be the parent of my girls.  A day when my love became not unconditional but conditional.  A day when my own injuries would trump those inflicted on my children.

That day is never going to happen.

My parents have made me someone incapable of it.

And for that I am thankful.

I Told You So

"This has really accentuated all your faults."  Mrs F says this morning.

"Thanks."  Mr F remarks sarcastically.

He pauses then continues...

"I know.  For me too." He adds regrettably. 

This Week The Plan

Wow remember those posts?! Yeah... I'm bringing it back, which is probably the best indicator of how much more in control I'm feeling.

I'll be back with the plan.

First, I'm resting on the couch watching Little Women (a version I've never seen before... but is there a bad one?!), and refilling tea party necessities.


Which brings us to 2010 New Year's Resolution #2...

More Tea Parties

(I'm absolutely serious)

Menu:

Sunday - Shepherd's pie

Monday- pan seared pork chops, steamed broc & carrots, frozen pepper & potato mix

Tuesday- Spaghetti pie (ala Cook's Country), broccoli 

Wednesday- Salmon, rice pilaf, vegetable saute

Thursday- Beef Stroganoff (from freezer), egg noodles, peas

Friday- Pizza, salad, carrot sticks

Saturday- Quesadillas and pineapple salsa

Goals:

To not eat like a pig.

Juliet

The Eagle Has Landed

We're back.

I'm checking email, opening Christmas cards, and catching up on blogs.

Mr F is trying to give me an anxiety attack by up and deciding to sell his junker NOW... why?  why people?!!  why now?  In two weeks we will know if we are staying or going... why would you sell your car RIGHT NOW?  

Come on!  Pull it together Mr F!  I can't take this.  

I mean I don't care if he sells it... but what would be the point of selling it this minute?  It only complicates my life.  It means a week or two (or more) without a second car in the dead of winter (and wouldn't you know it is actually colder here today than it was in Michigan... and people... it was COLD in Michigan).  During the same two weeks when I'm going to have an insane amount of small children in and out of my house and I need him to be able to drive Kid to school.  Is this not something that could wait two weeks?  And maybe something you would discuss in depth with your partner before doing?  

That's what I thought.

He must be feeling pretty positive about his future prospects...

On to important stuff...

I'm the size of a small whale.  My pants are SKIN tight.  As in... they didn't use to be *skinny jeans* but now they are.  

Mr F did repaint the kitchen and hang our new kitchen light (yay) but he did not move anything else from where it was when we left... meaning same exact food in the fridge... same post-Christmas morning mess, etc ... same unmade bed (boo).

Consequently, I'm having significant anxiety about getting the house back to "baby proof" for babysitting Monday morning.

On that front I've decided to quit babysitting (are you proud of me?... don't pat my back just yet I still have to tell everyone.)

All in all, I'm going to kickass in 2010.  For real.  I can feel it.  But first I need to get some stuff in order.

My New Year's Resolution is.... drum roll please...

To protect my personal interests. (it hasn't even been an hour and alert readers will note I've already edged this down a bit... baby steps I guess)

and, Yes, meeting my kids needs is in my best interest so there is no conflict on that front... don't worry they'll still eat

This should get interesting...

Happy New Year!!!!

Today's Motto: Less Survival Skills More Sledding

Step One: Stay Within Sight Of The House


Step Two: Bring Four Legged Backup



Step Three: Crash Often

The Furious Clan Gets Buried Alive... AKA... Who Else Would This Kind Of Thing Have Happened To?

I just nearly killed my children and myself.

Me, from a heart attack, after pulling a sled & child through ice crusted, foot deep snow, uphill and downhill, completely lost I might add, for 45 minutes at break neck pace (being terrified will do that).

The kids from having to fend for themselves, after my sudden death, completely lost in the wilderness too far from any houses for anyone to hear them.

Oh and it's about 10 degrees out.

I tried not to yell "MOM!!!" too shrilly so as not to alarm the kids but I think the fact my pupils were fully dialated might have tipped them off.

Let me tell you it doesn't take long for the panic to set in when you are lost in below freezing temperatures. Especially when one of your crew is a not especially hearty two year old.

So much for the simple sledding expedition.

Did I mention that my mom lives on something like 40 wooded acres and that the trail system is..um.. totally snowed over... and about 100 feet in it became clear that everything looked exactly the same in every direction?!

Or that the large dog tracks looked suspiciously like wolf tracks?

Or that in an effort to return to the house as quickly as possible I decided, after a fair amount of time, to attempt to follow the trail the full loop back to the house(since trying to veer off in hopes of finding a shortcut could have been an fatal decision under the present circumstances... and I do NOT jest)? Imagine, if you can, how difficult that decision was knowing that commiting to that trek would be close to impossible for Kid to pull off...and yet I would not be strong enough to pull both kids back myself? But at that point what choice did I have? Both directions might be too far for her (or me I was beginning to fear) and no one could hear us and no one knew where we were.

That is until I saw a house, off in the distance, that was not my mother's house, which meant we were significantly off course.

People, I was terrified. Every potential scenario running through my mind. Leaving them in the frigid temps while I ran back?... no they'd wander off and die. Resting before reversing?... we might get too cold and disoriented. You can see where this starts going in a fear clouded mind.

With only one option left, and terror slowly taking over, I reversed our course and we followed the only reliable path we had... our own.

Once I finally found the trail back to the house, pine needles stabbing my back and neck after bushwhacking to a clearing pulling Baby, kids crying, poor Kid limping slowly behind exhausted and frustrated, I collapsed on the ground.

I was sweating and shaking from the physical output... and near tears. The kids were both past that stage and well into cold, tear streaked, and pissed.

When we made the final trek to the house we stumbled in a haggard, disgruntled, slushy bunch.


"How long until you came searching for us?" I asked.

"What? We're you guys lost?" My stepfather replied.


Yeah that's what I thought. See why I was so worried?!

Who knows how long we might have been out there.

And how long does it take before you resort to cannibalism (it was lunch time)?

The Upside?... It Was Only Two Hours... And Nobody Yelled At Me... Or Escorted Us Off The Plane

let's start at the beginning...

The flight was horrible.

Starting a couple of weeks before our trip Kid decided to inform Baby (unbeknownst to me) that sometimes planes fall from the sky and crash. So... hmm... NOT HELPFUL.

The night before our trip Baby announced that she would not be flying in a plane but that she would walk to her grandmother's house. That was kind of cute... but then... when we got to the airport and I struggled to get her snowsuit off for security, I realized she was serious. VERY SERIOUS. That's when she started screaming.

So you can imagine how fun that was for me.

Getting everyone's coats and shoes off and through security, along with Kaya, an animatronic baby (the TSA workers loved that I might add), a stroller, and a tantrumming toddler... oh and a large anxious 7 year old who is clinging to me, pulling on my shirt, and refusing to JUST WALK THROUGH THE METAL DETECTOR ALREADY!!!

Of course I did this all with a calm demeanor and a smile on my face (would you expect anything less?). You really don't want to act weird in anyway when trying to send an animatronic baby through the xray scanner.

Oh, did I fail to mention the terrorist attempt the day before at the Detroit airport? Or that we were flying to Detroit? Or that I didn't know anything about it until my grandmother called to tell me half an hour before we left for the airport? Sending my usual flying-with-the-kids-alone anxiety through the roof, and making me wish I had some kind of medication? Or that upon arriving at the airport that there were TVs with constant coverage running and that my 7 year old is old enough to understand what they are talking about... and that my 2 year old is already terrified of flying?

Yes, it was a perfect storm of horror.

I got Baby calmed down until we had to board the plane.

But remember that it is a small airport, and a small jet, and we have to go outside to get on. Which, if you haven't done it in awhile, is really loud. And if you are 2 years old, and terrified of planes,... just a wee bit disconcerting. That's when she started screaming and actively fighting me.

Those were good times. Even candy didn't work.

Remember that our seats aren't together?

And, as it turns out, because she's over 2, the flight attendants insisted that she couldn't sit in my lap during take-off.

By this point she was just whimpering "I nervous" and her fingernails we're digging into my flesh from across the aisle(my children are nothing if not articulate when it comes to their feelings... I wonder where they get that..)

I mean how do you explain to a two year old that this big plane is going to fly in the air and it is perfectly safe... when... most adults can't even come to terms with that?!

Once we were in the air for awhile she calmed down a bit. But anytime the plane hit turbulance, or dipped a wing she's start screaming "WE'RE FALLING!!!"

And don't we all feel like that? The only funny part is that I'm sure she was starting to freak out the other passengers... like... "my God what if that Baby is right?!... what if she's having premonitions?!"

It didn't help that once we were decending I told her "We're going down." Oops. I meant it in the *good* way.

When we finally landed she clapped and cheered "We're on the ground!". I think the entire plane was happy for her at that point.

Or themselves... but who's counting?