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. :)