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Good grief. I didn’t mean to abandon my blog, but other things have happened, like work. And Facebook. And now, I have a boy on summer break. God help me. Please.

Anyway, there’s no way I could let this go without comment.

I was trolling Craigslist earlier this evening and found this lovely tidbit.


It Is One Year Old It Was Costume Made. It Is A Pale Yellow ,The Base Is Browm Lather, The Pillows Are Yellow , Cream ,Pattern Of All.

The Cosons And Pillows Are Micofiber Its Ez To Clean.

Where to start. Just…where to start.

The nun who taught me grammar probably wishes you could still beat people with rulers.

I’m just saying.

So, the husband and I embarked upon an actual, real diet a month ago (South Beach, for anyone who actually cares). We have had so very many conversations that started with “You know, we really need to…” and ended with “Yeah, we’ll have to do something about it.” But we never actually put those words into action. As you may or may not know, we are a thinking people, a talking people…but not so much a doing people.

Anyway, four weeks later, I have no idea how much he has lost, but I am down 19 pounds. Nineteen. Wow. Suddenly, the 50 pounds I want to lose doesn’t seem so far away. More importantly, we have really changed our eating habits. We’re not eating crap. We’ve learned it’s okay to have pizza, but only if you temper it with healthy food during the rest of the day. And once the weather gets nice and we can get some exercise (or if I can ever find a Wii Fit in stock anywhere), I expect to keep up a nice steady pace.

The thing that’s motivating me the most, though, is that I can actually see progress. And it’s a glorious thing. Cue the visual aids!

Me (and my glorious boy) at the end of January:


And now:


I don’t know why I waited so long to do this. But I’m motivated and hopeful, and that is rare indeed. Hooray!

My boy was crawling around on the floor earlier. I couldn’t resist a rump up in the air, so I gave it a little smack.

He turned around and said, so completely seriously: “If you do that again, I’ll wet your nostril.”

Well. I guess that shows me.

Immaculate conception? Pshaw! Jesus’s face in a waffle? Bah!

I went to the MVA (or DMV, to you non-Marylanders) yesterday. I titled and tagged a car and turned in the old plates, requiring having my number called at two different stations.

I was in and out in 10 minutes. And *that*, my friends, is a miracle.

I think a lottery ticket is in the cards this weekend.

So, I have been in a rolling tide of illness since November. I finally went to the doctor today to learn that my suspicions were correct. Only instead of having a sinus infection, I have acute sinusitis, which basically means sinus infection that should have been treated ages ago, if only I had swallowed my pride and dragged my ten-pounds-heavier ass in to the doctor’s office.

Anyway, with no further ado, I bring you…the antibiotic I have to take for the next 14 days.


 Not impressed? Here’s a point of comparison.







 If modern science can perform life-saving surgery on tiny babies, in utero, many of whom are probably not much larger than that pill, then why am I destined to choke down *that* twice a day for two weeks? I’m all for getting stem cell research rolling and helping to save people’s lives, but after that, smaller pills should be the first order of business. Word.

So, I hinted at good things afoot in an earlier post. After years of bitching and being recalcitrant and not feeling like making changes, we are on a good path. I realized a while back that I didn’t want to go to the doctor for what I knew was a sinus infection because I had gained 10 pounds since the last time I was there. I know that’s stupid, but it is what it is. So I decided to make one good attempt at finally taking off the extra pounds I’ve gathered since I was, well, 5. I’m extremely fortunate that I don’t have a huge amount to lose. I want to take off about 60-75 pounds. It wouldn’t put me at my ideal weight, but I would be damn close, and it would make the hugest difference for me. Those pounds are what have kept me from being excited about my life, about my interactions with people, about confidence in myself. And we all know I’m far too good for that shit.

So I put both Sean and myself on the South Beach Diet. He was game, too, and I think that’s what has contributed to success so far. This is the only time we have tried a diet and haven’t wanted to cheat. I finally went to the doctor today for that sinus infection (more on that later), and learned I have lost 12 pounds. This is the first, strictest phase of the diet, which means we’ve been eating protein and vegetables for the last 11 days. It’s been harder on Sean, but he’s staying true, and those 12 pounds  have motivated me to keep going the best I can. And so, I figure more people who know we’re doing this means more people who can guilt us into reaching the goal. It’s time. Finally. Woot.

If you have ever seen my boy, you know that he is breathtaking. And if you haven’t seen him, let me assure you that he is. This isn’t just a mother talking. Total strangers have stopped me on the street to tell me that this child is beautiful. Of course, I know that’s not the most important thing. Even better is that he is kind and loving and is polite to everyone but me. But on the days I feel most troglodytic, it boosts my mentality a good bit to know that *I* created *him*. I acknowledge that Sean took part in the process, but we all know that I was mostly responsible.

So it came as no surprise when I dropped him off at school yesterday and was met by a chorus of other moms, one of whom told me that she hears an awful lot about Nicholas.

“Apparently Nicholas is quite the hottie” was how she put it.

Okay, actually, that comes as a huge surprise, as one doesn’t expect a five-year-old to use the word “hottie.” But the point remains.

Another mom said that she hears a lot about Nicholas, too, that he’s the cutest boy in the class and that everyone loves him.

I know there are far worse things than being the mother of a beautiful boy. But I shudder to think what the future will bring. I wager that the phone will start ringing in second grade, and won’t stop until I’m dead.

It begins…

Okay, so I was reading through some old posts, and I see that I have a tendency to bitch about things and then kind of bitch them to death. I really only do this in blogland. It saves my husband’s sanity. Really, I’m a lovely person. Truly. So keep reading. I have good, fun observations on way too much stuff.

And good things are afoot. I’ll be back with them later. 😀

Can anyone else recite Dr. Seuss’s ABC from memory? I suppose it’s one of my lesser-appreciated talents. I have been able to, most of it, anyway, since I was a kid. And of course, having a kid of my own just cements it there in place. Anyway, that’s what I think of when I see the letter C.

But it struck me the other day that I have been seeing Cs all over the place lately. EVERYWHERE I look, absolutely everywhere, seemingly every woman is carrying a Coach bag.  In the elementary room art room where I pick up my boy. In grocery carts. In any Wal-Mart-type store. In freaking Dollar General. Every woman has one of these things. I mean, every single one, from the J. Crew moms at Target to the Gap crowd at the elementary school to the big-haired, loud, rude, chain-smoking, acid wash jeans-wearing people (not to generalize, lol) I see other places. Am I in the wrong line of work that I can’t really afford a $300 purse? It’s not that I’m jealous. But I *am* rather curious.

Am I in the minority? It’s not that I wouldn’t want a nice Coach bag. I do know they are high quality and last forever. But in addition to the nice classic bags, I’m seeing a lot of trendy ones…you know, the brightly colored ones that people don’t really like, but buy so other people can see they can afford a Coach bag. It’s just unreal to me. Anyway…if you know places where these things are falling off trucks, let me know. Then I will go and C. 😛

I’ve been a huge, enormous, broad-of-beam slacker, but I’ve been busy. More later…

December 2019
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