Um...thanks...I think

I'm now down 14 pounds, 25 to go.

So RD and I were lying in bed lastnight when he says, "I can tell you've lost weight. I used to fall into you (demonstrates by rolling into me), now I can just lie next to you without falling in."

Gee, thanks. He's got such a way with words.

The Louis Diet

For those that have been with me since I started this often dusty blog, my weight has been a constant battle. Many moons ago I set a goal for myself and my husband agreed to treat me to a shopping spree for new clothes should I reach this goal. Well, initially this excited me quite a bit. But the excitement and motivation soon wore off, as buying clothes isn't so much a treat as a necessity. Sure it's fun, but if I need clothes I buy them. I don't need a magic number on the scale to give me permission. I want something, I buy it. So the scale has continued to hover near the numbers I thought it never would. But alas, there is a new challenge. A new motivation.

If you know me, you know I'm not a big clothes horse anyway. I've just recently bought a bunch of new clothes (Ann Taylor Loft is my heaven), but it was strictly out of necessity. My closet was in serious need of help. What I do love is nice purses. I have several Coach purses, a Kate Spade, and a Dooney & Burke, but what I covet is the purse almighty. A Louis-Vuitton. My husband can handle me spending $100-$300 on a purse without going over the edge, but $1,000+, um, out of the question. As much as I love purses, even I know this is a ridiculous amount to spend on...well...almost anything. Yet I want one....SO BAD. My mom had one when I was a child and from then on I always loved them. They're timeless.

RD and I had just bought a new scale and were exchanging our goals over breakfast. He's wanting to gain 20 or so pounds, I'm wanting to lose 30 or so...okay 39 to be exact. He said, "I tell you what. You get to your goal and you can buy your Louis purse, and wallet. You can get whatever you want up to $2,000." Me, "GULP...mmmm'kay!" Now I know my husband still thinks we'll never be spending this kind of money on something so superficial, because he doesn't think I'll ever lose all that weight. But yearning for something so bad...not to mention the size 8 I would so love to be...is a powerful, powerful motivation. And...well...I just love proving RD wrong. heehee!

To update...so far I have lost 9 pounds - 30 to go! Wish me luck! Ahem...again.

Our House in the Middle of Our Street

I had one of those book parties the other night. As soon as I agreed to do it, I regretted it. I used to do umpteen parties a year (i.e., Pampered Chef, Tastefully Simple, etc.), because I'm a total sucker when put under pressure, but finally decided to stick to one. One of my best friends is a consultant for At Home America, so for lack of a better term, I give her my business. I went to an Usborne book show a couple months ago and was impressed with the books. It's hard to feel guilty about purchasing books for your kids, so I thought why not. The why not is you have to provide food, invite people who would probably rather do a million other things than go to yet another party, but it was done, agreed upon, so I did it. Feeling somewhat guilty about just having had an At Home party back in September, I didn't invite the whole lot. You get your usual bunch that always comes, the usual bunch that never comes, and of course the ones you never hear from. Given the limited number of people I invited, the usual crew that was set to attend amounted to 7 - and given my track record of inviting people to my house (harhar) - 4 showed up. These four were at the previous party I went to that I signed up to do the party, so the consultant skipped the whole sales pitch and we just sat around, ate food that was too fattening, and talked. All in all it was a good time.

I was looking around at my clean house the next morning - admiring the sparkling cleanliness that surrounded me. Since it was a small party, all the cleaning that went into the party stuck. It was still clean! Yeah! As I was loading my Diet Cokes into the refrigerator - four to be exact, I'm trying to limit my addiction to a reasonable number - I was basking in the joy of only having laundry on my to-do list for the day. Laundry is a given. It's on my to-do list EVERY day. What should happen next? I drop one of the cans on the floor. Dropping a can on the floor is a normal occurence, no big deal. You just push it to the back to let it settle, and grab one from the front. But not this day. No. This day it busts open, spinning in circles, spraying soda ALL OVER MY SPARKLING CLEAN KITCHEN. AR starts crying, totally freaked out by what had happened; the boys think the whole thing is hysterical and take the opportunity to run at lightening speed and see how far this wet floor can send them (which was into the Dining Room btw). So now there's sticky soda on the floor, the cabinets, the fridge, the wall, the pictures on the wall, the couch and coffee table (hearth room), the counters, and the chairs at the island. These are the kinds of moments where you just want to run out the door crying and maybe, just maybe, never come back. But you take a deep breath, stick the kids in front of the t.v., and start scrubbing. Because as always, today is just another day, and this too shall pass.

The Nagging Post

One of the reasons I stopped blogging before was because all I ever did was bitch about one thing or another, well, that's a great thing about having a blog. All those things you can't say, well just vent away to the anonymous world.

I'm stressed. The kids are three and it is proving to be the hardest age for me so far. They're constantly battling each other, me, RD...my chest is always so tight...I'm always so damn tense. Everything's a test. How far will they let me go? It's driving me insane. I love my children immensely, but I feel like I'm spending too much time not enjoying my children. I feel guilty typing that...I feel guilty just thinking that...but I need to find some sort of balance in my life. I can't keep waiting for things to get easier, because that's not going to happen. Sure, some things will get easier, but bigger challenges still await. I realize that. The only thing I can do is find a way to deal with things better. But how? I don't want to be the mom that looks at this as a job. I don't want to keep going through the motions, you know? Because that's what I'm doing. Going through the motions. I need to find my place. Find my purpose and embrace it. Wow...now I'm sounding a bit dramatic...but damn, I have to do something...

Now for some totally random thoughts that have irked me over the past weeks...

You know what really pisses me off? When I'm putting my groceries on the check-out belt, and the person ahead of me has all their crap spread out, instead of pushed/stacked together. It's nice to get started putting my heaping, overflowing cart of groceries on the belt when I have as much as I do. It's really aggravating when the person in front of you has...let's say...milk, grapes, tampons, cheese all in a line...spread out on the belt, when they could scooch them together so I could start unloading. I'm just saying.

It's inevitable...it's bound to happen, but every time we have a party or holiday at our house it seems nearly half cancel. It's frustrating. Last Thanksgiving we started with 27 planning on attending, come the night before (of course once all the food was bought) we were down to 10. TEN! We had a BBQ this past weekend and had 7 cancel (which 2 of ended up coming anyway). Kids were sick, etc. Totally understandable, and it was still a good turnout, but frustrating nonetheless. Again, it's just bound to happen when you're having people over, but it's my blog and I can still bitch. :)

Why am I such a sucker for house parties? You know...the selling books, house stuff, etc. parties? I'm having a book party this week. It always sounds like such a good idea at the time...you go to someone else's party and they give you the spiel about how you'd be helping this hostess out, you'll benefit as well...sure! Why not?! Then the time comes and I have to ask myself, "Why did I agree to this?" Ugh. I'm such a pushover.

At the gym, there's only a limited number of elliptical machines that have the arm thingies (sorry...don't know correct term) that you use along with the stair-stepper part. That's the machine I like...and it really ticks me off when someone uses it and doesn't use the arm part!!! When there are plenty of other stair steppers w/o the arm thingie if they're not going to use it. I know the arm thingie ones have great fans overhead, but if you're going to use that machine...USE IT!

Okay...I'm done for now. I feel much better. :)

Potty Training

AR was a piece of cake to potty train. She walked up to me one day and said, "Mama, I want to wear big girl panties and go potty on the big girl potty like you." I put her in big girl panties and she's been in them ever since. That was 8 months ago. The boys on the other hand...not so easy. I've made several attempts, and I KNOW that one of the worst things you can do is to be wishy washy - putting them in underwear, then back in diapers, then back in underwear, and so on - but after cleaning up the pee and poop of two boys for several days, you might consider throwing in the towel, too! We even had to switch schools. The preschool they were registered at (which was where they went for "Mommy's Day Out" last year) has a NO DIAPERS policy. I tried and tried and decided instead of pressuring the boys, I was going to let it happen when it happens, and change schools. Now...I wasn't totally bummed about this because the only school that would take them (other than one that I vetoed immediately after just a phone call...long story) was one that I had wanted all along. But this place is pricey. Crazy pricey. But the kids need some schoolin', right? And we can afford it, we (or I should say I) just need to do some re-prioritizing. It's super close, and several of the kids in the neighborhood go there, so there will be many familiar faces.

Back to the potty-training...the school Director said it is their school policy as well that the kids be potty trained, but she's willing to work with us. Quite frankly, I think they just really want our business, but whatever. She said as long as we continue working with them at home, they will work with them at school as well. She said that she will tell the teachers that she will be responsible for whatever messes there are if it becomes a problem. Sooooo...here we are. They start September 4. SA has made remarkable progress. I'm close to saying he's potty trained, but not quite yet. He's made it as long as two days without an accident; and he rarely has more than one accident a day anymore. SJ on the other hand...has YET to go on the potty. I take that back. He did poop once, but it was only because I left him there so dang long SOMETHING was bound to just happen eventually. It's like he's scared of what will happen. He'll go very willingly to the toilet, but then just sit there. Then he'll go in the other room and piss on the floor. UGH. SO.VERY.FRUSTRATING.

But...all in time, right?

SIGH

Case of the Blah's

It's been a rough week. My husband's grandmother passed away Friday morning. He was very close to her, as were his sisters and cousins, so everyone was taking it pretty hard. She'd been sick for awhile, and suffered quite a bit, so as hard as it was to see her go, it was definitely her time.

We had a sitter for the visitation on Sunday, but took the kids along with us to the service Monday. All-in-all, the kids did pretty well. It's hard for three-year olds to sit quiet for that length of time; but I stocked up on books, Aqua Doodles, and raisins to help pass the time. One sweet moment - SA started talking loud so RD told him he had to be quiet. SA then pointed to the open casket and said, "We don't want to wake up Grandma?" RD lost it. The tears started flowing. Ahhh...the sweet innocence of a child.

And now I'm getting ready to say bye to one of my best friends. My good friend K and her family are moving to Switzerland - her husband has been transferred there for three years. So the bad news is she will be gone for three years. The good news...she'll be back in three years. At least it's not permanent.

Now tonight RD and I are going to see The Lion King with some of his work buddies. I'm looking forward to going out to dinner beforehand, but I'm not much of a "show" person. I heard it's really good...so I'm sure I'll have a good time. *sigh* Oops...wait...that's tomorrow night. I tell ya...I'm so screwed up right now, I have no idea what day or what time it is.

Lord help me

This is what happens when you let your kids stay up to watch fireworks. You pay the next day. Boy, do you pay.

The boys were so awful today, I finally put them in their room and closed the door. They eventually fell asleep. When they woke from their nap, they were new children. AR on the other hand, well, sometime's there's just no getting her to do something she doesn't want to do. A nap today was one of those things. Now the screaming and (my) yelling has been so bad, I'm sure everyone within a five-mile radius knows we're having a bad day.

Now I'm bleeding. Yes, I'm bleeding. I'm bleeding because my daughter doesn't want to go to bed. She's so damn tired she's delirious. She refused to brush her teeth, so I had to pin her down...I maybe got three teeth clean. Then I had to carry her into bed...upside down mind you (not on purpose, it's just what happens when a three-year old is kicking and hitting you while being held)...and hold her down just long enough to plan my getaway. During this time she kicked my legs, my left cheek, my arms - and I have numerous scratches over every exposed part of my body.

Please God, make tomorrow a better day.

Oh...they're not mine.

My kids are at that age now that they truly say whatever is on their mind. We definitely have some years before their censors have formed.

One of my favorite things to read in Parents magazine, and others like it, are the embarassing things kids say. Not so funny when it comes out of your kid's mouth.

We live in what I would consider a diverse neighborhood. You always hear stories of kids seeing someone who looks different from them and making awkward comments in public. I thought, "How great! I don't have to worry about that. My kids will grow up seeing all these different races and nationalities, and they won't even see them as being different because they will be accustomed to seeing them all the time." Wrong. It just means they say these embarassing things sooner instead of later. Like SA, who likes to point and shout out, "Look Mom! A brown man!" Or ask loudly, "Why is that boy brown, Mommy?"

Then there's their grandmother who loves to joke with them about her big belly, among other things. Now the kids love to point out big bellies and say things like, "Look Mom! That girl (woman) has two chins!" Yea, I had a talk with my mom about that one.

And of course I'm the target of most of their observations. SJ rarely goes more than two days without pointing out my big belly. Which BTW, I didn't think I had until he pointed it out. And AR said I have two necks, which I'm pretty sure was in reference to my chin...or chins rather. And don't think you can let a silent (but not so sweet) fart slip out in Target without one of the kids yelling, "MOMMY'S POOPY!!!" No siree, I can't get away with anything.

But neither can you, so suck it in because you never know what small child might be lurking around the corner!

Long-time coming

I have finally updated my blogroll. A third if not more of my links had sites that were closed down...or about as inactive as I've been.

Wow...look at me! 4 posts in three days! Woo hoo! Is this a comeback?

Please check this out

One of my good friends has recently started a blog. It's about her experience living with depression, as well as this great idea she has on how to help deal with it.

Please stop by to say hi!

This Crazy Idea

Loosening the reigns

I'm trying to loosen the reigns a bit with my children. I'm not what I consider an overprotective mom really, but when you have three small ones, my God things can spiral out of control in a matter of seconds. But the kids aren't exactly toddlers anymore, and the need to be watching their every move is no longer necessary, nor is it practical.

Before if the kids went upstairs to play, I went upstairs. I'm a get-down-on-the-floor-and-play-with-the-kids kind of mom, but I would always encourage them to play on their own at times as well...but I was never far. Keeping such a short leash on them has caused many meltdowns - their's and mine. Now they can play upstairs and I'll go about my business downstairs, doing laundry, cleaning, etc., and to my amazement, they've done great. I know this sounds crazy to some, but until you've experienced life with triplets, no judging! ;) You're probably wondering how did I ever get anything done?! It's not that I never just went to another side of the house for awhile, it's just that I'm now allowing more room for trust - within reason, they are only 3 - and I'm giving us all a little more space.

Maybe now we'll all be able to breathe a little easier.

*CRASH*

What was that noise?!

Pass the Pledge, please...

so that I may dust off this ole' thing.

Wow. I haven't posted in a looong time!! A good friend of mine recently started a blog, and I thought I might stop by my own for a change.

Where I have I been? I guess you could say I got caught up in life. You know...the usual chaos. In the beginning, I was in quite the funk and was so tired of listening to myself bitch about everything, I no longer had the energy to put it into writing. The main reason for my funk was our two mortgages - which by the way, for those that were around way back when, we sold the house!!! We are now the proud owners of not two, but one lovely home. Phew! What a relief!

My other downer is me and my fatt ass. Boy, have I let myself go. I never could understand those people that lose weight in stressful situations. I love to eat. LoveLoveLove food. If I'm sad, I eat...mad, I eat...happy, let's eat! Well, given the past year - the house, the crazy kids - it was just too much. Though I've been good about exercise - almost to the point of obsession - my eating habits could use much improvement. Now that things are looking up financially, I'm working on stuffing my face less.

The other reason I've stayed away, is as boring as my calendar is, I've been so damn busy. The kids! The kids! The kids! As many people say in passing when they see us on the street, "Yes, I have my hands full!" Raising three 3-year olds is exhausting. Fall-on-the-floor-and-moan exhausting. Then to top it off, we moved in this huge house that I'm somehow expected to clean (okay, that's a battle all my own), I feel there's little time for me. Waahhh-waaahhh-waaaah! Didn't I say I was tired of listening to myself bitch? Okay, I'll stop.

Anyway, that's where I've been. I'm not going to say I'm going to post more and be better about stopping by all those blogs I used to frequent, because I just can't say. I could have all the best intentions, but then a month or two later...oops! Wasn't I going to blog more? Wasn't I going to call my grandma? Wasn't I supposed to return that book to Jen? Wasn't I going to clean out the car? My mental to-do list is neverending. But I can say, I will TRY. :)

Title Schmitle

I might as well close this. I never post anymore. Maybe I will if things start to look up, but right now I don't see that happening any time soon. And quite frankly, I just don't care.

I'm in a low place right now. We still haven't sold our other house. What the hell were we thinking? What the hell was I thinking? It's my fault. RD never would have bought this house if I wasn't in such a panic over having to move out of this neighborhood.

Aside from all our money woes, I'm just worn out. Stretched to my limit. The kids are wonderful and so much fun at this age...yet so much work. They're easier in so many ways (they'll be three in less than two weeks!), yet so damn exhausting. I'm just going, going, going. Always. I'm a big day dreamer. I could sit on the couch and daydream for hours. Seriously. But I've found I can't even sit through one thought. I'm up, down, up, down...running here, running there. "Mom...Mom...Mom...Mommy!!!!" is all hear all day. Our kids narrate the entire day, which is wonderful, it really is, but then I want to scream, "Just STOP TALKING. Just for a minute. Please!!" Isn't that awful?

I'm tired. I'm crabby all the time. RD and I have never fought this much.

Then there's this house. Why in hell did we have to buy such a huge house? I love it. I really do, but it's so much work. I'm cleaning constantly. It never ends.

I'm tired. Wait...I said that already. Well...anyway...I need some hope. I know I need to just be thankful for our health and all that crap...blahblahblah...I am...but damn it...this is just so hard.