Wednesday, October 31, 2007

Halloween Memories

Happy Halloween everyone out there in blogland! I'm happy to say that my psychological evaluation went smoothly and the therapist said she could see no warning signs for my mental preparedness for the donation process. The tongue thing didn't phase her, I guess.

Its crazy, but about 2 minutes after I got off the phone with her, another call came in from Santa Rosa, CA. The fertility clinic that handles all the medical aspects told me to start birth control AS SOON AS I COULD. They faxed the prescription into Walgreen's and I went to pick it up, in less than an hour. Crazy, I didn't even have to pay for it.

So now I'm back on the pill (had to say goodbye to my beloved Nuvaring- boo) for two months, while the intended mama's and my cycle get on the same track. Then I will start with the big guns (injectable hormones). But, WOW I didn't really think it would happen this fast. Hopefully, my retrieval falls near the end of December, so I will get to see New York City at Christmas time. I would really love that. I loved being in Boston during the Holidays, and I can only imagine what the Big Apple is like.

But back to the current Holiday: Halloween.

My most lovable memories of today revolve around Halloween in rural Vermont. You've all heard the stories about New England in the fall: the maple trees in full color, the covered bridges, the apple cider and donuts, the white steepled churches...and its all true. Its so amazing you think its fake, like Disneyland. Living in a Autumn postcard casts a spell on you, and when you are a kid, by the time Halloween rolls around, you can hardly contain your excitement.

New England's historic splendor also contributes to full-On Halloween drama: I mean, witches were burned here, Sleepy Hollow is a REAL town, just around the corner, the graveyards have been around since the revolutionary war, and they are the essence of creepy.

Me, being the somewhat twisted, creative, hippy loner child I was, used to sit in the graveyards and write down all the names and ages of the people who were buried there. Then I would imagine what their lives were like, and how they died. I really used to enjoy being in a graveyard alone. Morbid, huh?

After moving west to Durango, I was appalled by the lack of character in the graveyards, the fact that there WASN'T a local haunted house, that they didn't sell cider by the side of the road. I remember Halloween being the most eventful and exciting night of the year. There were pumpkin patch bonfires, apple bobbing contests at every school and church event, and ONE AMAZING haunted house, which the local college and high school students collaborated on every year.

As far as trick-or-treating went, that its self was a huge deal too. All the 100+ year old Victorian and Colonial houses looked scary enough during the DAYTIME, let alone lit up with jack-o-lanterns and candles. Even at age 11, my friends and I would skip some houses, because everyone in town KNEW there was a witch living there.

We mapped out our plan for getting as MUCH candy as we possibly could, with our parents help. in the East the towns are dense little communities, and dispersed no more than 10 miles away from each other, so we planned to hit at least 3 towns, riding in the back of my parent's hatch back, for quick exiting purposes when the houses became too far apart to walk between. It was kind of a pain if your costume was too elaborate. One year I was Medusa, for which I made paper mache' snakes coming out of a hat. By the end of the night, those snakes were only ratty pieces of green paper on wires. My friend was the "shower" from the Halloween dance in The Karate Kid, and she pretty much ditched her costume after the first couple houses.
We each had a normal trick-o-treat bag, but in the car were garbage bags where we would drop off our booty after each town, and start fresh with an empty bag. Yes, we were GLUTTONS.

Since candy was strictly forbidden during the non-holiday times in our house, we lived it up from October to early January. The Halloween gorgefest was the best, all of us sorting through our pile of goodies, trading each other for the undesirables. After all the good stuff was gone, my sister and I bartered for the nasty candies, and if that negotiation failed, we spent the rest of the year playing poker with snickers as the ante.

Another method of getting the candy we wanted was playing Foosball for it. My dad had found the top of a Foosball table(no legs) at the local landfill, so we put it on the floor, playing on our knees. My sister, being the natural athlete, usually kicked my ass. One time after she won 5 games in a row, and I snatched the Foosball and chucked it right at her face. It hit her in the forehead, making her scream. My mother promptly threw out all the candy after that incident.

But damn, those were some good times.

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Bad timing

LB was really clingy last night. She did NOT want to lie down in her bed. I swear when I gave her the over-the-crib hug, she did not let go until I felt her grip release because she was slowly passing out. Awww. Poor bubbo.

I was also awakened by her random high pitched cries throughout the night. Luckily, she's been able to go back to sleep on her own, but it still shakes me to hear her. I think she knows that we're moving again, plus the weekend with daddy totally messed with her daily routine.

So by 5 am, I was completely resistant to getting up. I DID manage to lurch to my feet at about 5:30, and pissily shove the workout dvd in the player. Called JL, check. My workout was pretty half-assed I must say, I was so NOT perky this morning.

To top it off, I bit my tongue last night, which has developed into a huge achy spot. There is definitely some pain when I talk, and to make it worse, I either sound like I have a lisp or I just came back from having my teeth drilled.

The cherry on TOP of this situation is that today I have my "Psychological Evaluation" over the phone with a therapist in California....for my egg donation. So she will either be unable to understand me or I will have to stop talking every two minutes to swallow drool and cringe in pain.

So, I may still be rejected, due to disfunctional tongue syndrome. Wish me luck :)

Monday, October 29, 2007


So I've advanced from Pilates for Dummies to Crunch Gym's Burn and Firm Pilates. And DAMN. I started it last Friday and hurt till yesterday. Now I think the vicious cycle has started all over again. But its a good pain, ya know? It makes it worth it to get up before dawn (which really isn't all that hard in the winter, anyway).

I was really sweatin' this morning, panting too. Actually, it was the whole stinky nine yards, now that I've upgraded to putting on shoes (another reason why I like pilates) during the standing workout. This DVD is more of a typical class you would take at the gym, complete with those hot girls who wear matching spandex shorts and sports bras, and the one gay guy in the back. The instructor however was not as annoying as she looks on the cover (which I really can't stand).

Also in workout news, I've ordered 4 NEW DVDs off of, and I'm psyched about them. Three of them are the Island Girl Series: Hula Workouts. and the other one is the infamous Carmen Electra's Striperobics. The Hula ones look like an absolute blast, and I can't wait to share them with the rest of the tree. I think after a few weeks of psyching myself up, I can pop the Striperobics in the player, and maybe actually follow along it. People have told me that for the untalented, clumsy bunch of us, its a tough workout, and its been a lonnnnngggg time since I was doing high school musicals.

If anyone is looking to buy a workout tape/dvd, believe me, this website really is awesome. You can preview clips of EVERY video on there, which is great because lets be honest, there are some bad ones out there. I even saw "Line Dancing Aerobics" when I was shopping, ye gads.

But I also saw Donna's Old School Dance Party (see right) which looks like a total hoot, especially cause its got live ,music (the Sugarhill Gang) in the background, while people are dancing in the front. I also noticed one very tense looking white girl (think Celine Dion doing aerobics) hiding behind Donna and her Crew, which is a fricken RIOT. I think I might ebay it, hell it looks fun. Check out the clip. WORD.

Friday, October 26, 2007

The unexpected

The insane month of October continues to throw curve balls at us. Here's the latest one.

About 7 months ago, I accompanied my close friend to Miami, FL to be her companion while she went through the final stage of egg donation. She decided to donate her eggs after struggling with fertility for about 3 years. After finally conceiving twins (born only two weeks after LB), she registered with an egg donation consulting firm and received almost immediately.

She asked me go with her, and through this I started to learn more about the donation process: the medication, the injections, the meticulous tracking of the cycles, the ultrasounds, all of it. After we returned from Miami, I started to get curious about my own DNA.

I was torn about donating for a long time. I figured there are so many children out there waiting to be adopted that going out of my way to assist someone in conceiving seemed selfish and unnecessary. The couples who choose egg donation want to experience pregnancy and birth, and I think those are the exact reasons they decide not to adopt. Having gone through pregnancy and birth myself, I can understand where someone might be coming from. That doesn't excuse the fact that there are more and more children born every day that need to be adopted. I think it also takes a very special and incredible person to be an adoptive parent, and not everyone can rise to that occasion.

If someone has the made the decision to have a child through egg donation, then they are prepared to sacrifice a huge amount of time, money, emotional and physical stress. Even after going through all this.....

"The success rate varies depending upon age of eggs, retrieval process, quality
of semen, and the overall health of the women involved. In most cases,
younger eggs are selected to increase the probability of success. As
high as 48% of women using donor eggs will experience pregnancy,
however approximately 15-20% of women will lose the pregnancy through miscarriage."

So its not at all a guarantee. It's a gamble. If I can provide someone with
an incredibly useful tool, especially when my eggs are just going to waste every
month anyway, I think becoming a donor would make me very proud and satisfied.

Another reason I feel justified in becoming a donor is because of the huge amount of women who have put their careers and marriages before having children. Many of the couples who choose egg donation are in their late 30s and 40s. I completely respect the decision to wait, become financially and emotionally secure and then decide to have children.

The feminist in me also says "Hey, guys donate sperm ALL the time, and nobody gives them any crap about giving up a possible child." Plus, an egg is not a child. The donor is not a mother. The family that carries it, raises and nurtures it, are the real parents. I am simply the biological component. I am the blueprint. The parents are going to build the house and live in it.

This is another reason why I would choose to be a donor, but never be a surrogate. The pregnancy stage of the fertility process is one of the most important stages of becoming a mother. That is why I think it takes someone incredibly special to adopt. Its also another reason why I think so many women who decide to give up their babies for adoption, change their mind during those 9 months. Honestly, after carrying a child for that long, thinking about it, and finally giving birth to it, I don't see how someone could give it away. To me, you go through all those things in order to create that maternal instinct, that bond that makes you NEED that baby. If I were a surrogate, I would not be able to separate myself from the baby I was carrying.

For all you mothers who gave your child up for adoption, I don't think you are disgusting or immoral. This is only my individual experience on the subject, and personally, this is why I could never be a surrogate, or give my child up for adoption. It is also the reason why I would feel no connection to my eggs after I donated them.

So that's my big news for the month: I'm going to New York City to donate.

What is your opinion on Egg Donation? Surrogacy? Adoption? Whew, the stuff you get to think about when you have girl parts.

Thursday, October 25, 2007

What's your mother's story?

"You shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you mad"- Aldous Huxley

(My mother in a nutshell) For those of you who read my blog, I challenge you to find a quote that describes your own mother, and then tell the world why.

Here's my mom's story:

She left home at 17, trying to escape a family where her own father called her a "Nig*** Lover." After enrolling the in Redlands Community College, she dropped out after only one semester, hitchhiking north till she got to Seattle. There she lived on a houseboat, working at bakeries and fish markets until she met her first husband (I don't remember his name).

He was a Medic in the Vietnam War, and they got married when my mom was 19. He was older however, and wanted to settle down and have kids. She didn't. They divorced.

My mom moved back to California, where she enrolled at Sonoma State. She majored in Women's Studies and taught Outward Bound classes. Watching people have nervous breakdowns in the middle of the woods inspired her to get into social work. She also met my dad at Sonoma State, where he was creating a student-constructed major: Opera Performance.

He was a musician, she was a feminist. They wrote political songs together, the lived in Communes, they fell in love. They got pregnant. Thus, I came into the world.

My mom did lots of jobs in her struggle to support a family, while my father pursued his music career. She drove both school and public transit buses while we lived in L.A. My dad delivered singing telegrams, and sold suits at South Coast Plaza. But my mom never finished her degree, and my dad was working on getting his teaching licence. When an elementary music teaching position opened up, it didn't matter that it was across the country in rural Vermont.

So we left all of our relatives, and relocated from beaches and sunshine to covered bridges and snow drifts. Moving from Los Angeles, California to Shasftsbury, Vermont was basically like moving to the moon. My mom got a job working with families on Welfare, I went to a school where they made me re-learn my entire alphabet and number writing, and forced me to correct my pronunciation of the word "Apricot" and "Caramel."

My dad's teaching position did not last long. We were the California Hippies in Puritan New England, and the school district though my dad's teaching style was "inappropriate." He was fired only 6 months after we moved. I don't think either my mother or my father recovered from this moment in our lives. I really can't talk about it either. Let's just say when you go the school where your dad is one of the most talked-about and despised teachers, your life isn't very pleasant.

My mom continued to work for Social Services. My dad bounced from one job to the other, working at music stores, trying to fund raise money to make an album, but mostly I remember him being unemployed for long periods of time. My parents fought for almost all of the 7 years we lived in Vermont.

Finally my mother couldn't take it anymore. She was displaced from her friends and family, almost continent away. She lived in bitter cold winters, putridly humid summers, and was working a job that was only making her hate the government even more. She told my Dad that she wanted to move back west, and she wanted to live in Colorado.

So we up and hauled our lives back across the country. I think my mother had such high hopes, like she was leaving all her worries behind us in Cold, Bitter New England. For the next 4 years, we moved from rental to rental, while my mom worked for the Southern Ute Tribe, teaching adult literacy, computer skills, and head start programs. My dad did everything from Factory work, carpet cleaning and lots of temping. He also played gigs whenever he could, recording a few albums, but my mother was still paying most of the bills.

After 20+ years of working for public service, she gave up. She told me one day that it had just drained everything out of her. I think the goodwill she so desperately wanted to share with people back in the 70s had been sucked dry and was replaced by a constant, churning anger.

She was angry at my dad because he had always followed his dream, while she sucked it up and supported her family. She was angry at the government for making her job of helping people almost impossible. She was angry at the families who just didn't seem to care, or make enough effort to satisfy her. She was angry at the economy which forced us to keep moving every year, in order to find affordable housing.

People (including myself) used to be afraid of my mother. She was a fire-breathing, man-hating, liberal feminist who seemed to radiate bitterness. I think some of my friends (and definitely LB's dad) still are.

I love my mother. I respect her more than any other woman out there. What she sacrificed for her family, honestly brings me to tears sometimes. The thought of her amazing idealism shriveling up and dying pains me tremendously. I love her, and am in awe of her. So when she says things like this to me:

"You didn't USED to always have to learn things the hard way"

I can take it with a grain of sand.

I love you mom :)

Wednesday, October 24, 2007

The Magic of the Pumpkin Hat

Ok, Curmudgfest. You have no idea what an impact your pumpkin hat has had on LB's and my life. Here is a few examples of what happens when I go out in public with Doo Doo Bear sportin' the pumpkin.

  • Hey there pumpkin head!
  • That is the cutest hat EVER!
  • Hey Punkin".
  • Watch out! Pumpkin on the loose!
  • Aww look at the pumpkin.
  • Where did you GET that hat?
  • Look at the baby mom, she's wearing a pumpkin hat!
  • She is so get the point

I get stopped by the usual mamas and grandmamas, but also children of all shapes and sizes, dads, granddads, teenagers, construction workers, bankers, drivers on the road.....It never ends I tell you.

And just so you know, I feel I can take no credit whatsoever. So instead of saying "Thanks", I immediately go directly to "My friend knitted it herself, isn't it awesome?" Because OMG, I have never been stopped by someone oogling my kid as much as this last month.

I even saw your MOTHER yesterday on the street, and let her coo over LB. So Thank you, thank you for your skilled work as a knitter and kind auntie. And also CURSE YOUR magic needles because LB won't part with the hat for more than 2 seconds, and it now takes me over and hour to get my shopping done at Wal-Mart, as well as walk the measly 9 blocks of main street. hehehe. Cheers.

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

Set Back

As you may have noticed, my Pinon Terrace ticker has changed significantly. That's because I got a call today informing me that the contractors and developers are not going to have the apartments ready for move-in until:

Booo HISSS. I hate anticlimax. Build-up and letdown. One more month with my mother :(
Its going to be a long, cold trek with my belongings from Mancos to Durango at the end of November. To my friends who are helping me move....I'm sorry your fingers will be frozen to a point beyond recognition. I'm sorry we will have to brave (most definitely) snow and ice covered roads for 35+ miles.
Believe me, I will make it up to you.
Plus this gives me a whole extra month to plan the housewarming party. Any suggestions for the theme? It will be after Thanksgiving, so I guess no free turkey dinner for all of you. hehe.
I guess I should really just keep my fingers crossed that the date doesn't get pushed back even further into the DEAD of winter.
Please. Please.Please.

Monday, October 22, 2007

Ok so maybe it wasn't the cottage cheese

I spent almost all of Friday night yarfing, so I'm thinking there might have been a bug crawling around LB's daycare after all. It took me all Saturday to regain my strength, which sort of sent me into a mini-panic about my move in 11 days.

I came to this conclusion:

I can NEVER get sick. I can NEVER get hurt. I can NEVER do anything that will result in me passing out/being incapacitated in any way.

Why? Because I will be the only one there. Who will be able to watch LB, if I'm bowing down to the toilet all day or night? What will happen to her if I fall down the stairs and break my neck? What if I choke on a ham sandwich, who will be there to give me the Heimlich? No one.

As much as I am ready to get the hell out of my mother's house, I must admit she is currently my safety blanket in case of emergency. If I hadn't gotten a full day worth of rest on Saturday, I don't know if I would have made it into to work today. If my mom hadn't been there to watch LB, I would probably have lost an 8 hr workday so I could power-up for the rest of the week.

Don't get me wrong. I am a competent and strong single mama. I know I can handle taking care of my child while running my own apartment. I just really need to step it up and take care of myself better (Which I think I have a head start on with the workout tree). I need to start taking vitamins, eating healthier and cut back on the wine drinkage. I know this won't guarantee my perfect health, but it will make this soon-to-be dark, dark winter season, a little less scary.

The scale said 153.4 this morning! I guess the pukefest took its toll on mi cuerpo pretty good :(

Friday, October 19, 2007

Wino Weight

Good morning my friends :) I looked at my post from last night, and now I'm thinking maybe I shouldn't weigh myself at 9 pm after eating a ginormous bowl of green curry and drinking 3 glasses of wine. This morning the scale said I was 155.6 lbs, and there is no way I dropped almost 3 lbs overnight.

As unfair as it is, I'm still moving my ticker 3 lbs towards my goal. Its just a stupid ticker and its motivating me, so phooey to the rules. If anyone else would like to cheat an extra 3 lbs with me, by all means be my guest.

I am proud of myself because I did not GIVE UP and skip my workout this morning. LB seems to have fallen into waking up at 5 am (2 DAYS IN A ROW!) yet I was adamant about NOT succumbing to the "EH WHATEVER" philosophy. I did half of my video with her attached to my leg and the other half with her hanging off my arm. What a workout!

As for this weekend, there has been suggestion that we take a hike instead of our normal walk on Sunday. That way I can stick LB in the backpack (hopefully a positive alternative to the screaming that involves the stroller) and the dogs can run free through the wilds of Colorado..hehe.

Any suggestions on where we go? Jiji if you know any secret spots up Lightner Creek, let us know!

P.S. Don't forget to bring your workout tapes so we can swap em. Man am I ready for something other than pilates :)

Thursday, October 18, 2007

I lied

I had to update my ticker, as you can see. I thought I weighed 155. the scale I bought today at walmart indicated that I weigh 158!!!!! So I adjusted my ticker. See this is why I don't have scales. I am an optimist who thinks she weighs less that she really does, so when I actually get a reading, I am sorely disappointed. What a damn recipe for self-hatred.

If any of you workout tree people want to expose yourselves as I have with a weight loss ticker, please join me in public humiliation at

I AM getting up at 5 am and kick ASS tomorrow!!!!!

I killed the Tree

Hey there. I failed in my goal to work out every morning this week :(

Yesterday I got a call from daycare to come pick up LB cause she was "projectile vomiting." Needless to say, I rushed over there to pick her up and found that several other babies had been sent home too. LB puked till about 7 pm last night, couldn't keep any food down, only water. She's really never been this sick in her 16 months of life. She was to the point where all she wanted to do was lay her head on my chest and whimper between puking.

When I put her to bed, I was worried she might choke on her own vomit in her sleep, so I got up ever hour until about 2 am. Thank God there was no more puking. I finally was convinced she was ok and went to bed.

When my alarm went off at 5 am, LB was already awake, calling "Mama, Mama" which soon turned into "Nana nana." She devoured a whole bowl of oatmeal and a banana, along with a full glass of water. No puking. No crying. No pale, sickly face. No fever. Just lots of energy and high pitched squealing at dawn.

My diagnosis is that she is NOT sick. She does NOT have the Gastrointestinal daycare flu. She is simply a piggy little toddler who made herself sick by eating too much. I looked on her daily sheet and it said they had cottage cheese for snack. Cottage Cheese is hands down LB's favorite food. I haven't bought her any in the last month or so, because it consists of her gulping it down until I make her stop, which results in screaming. She would eat the whole container if I let her.

My theory is once she saw the cottage cheese on the table, she was like "SWEET, GORGEFEST!" and ate as much as she possibly could, in the fastest possible manner. Shortly after snack was when I received the phone call. It was either that, or the cottage cheese was bad. I have no clue.

All I know is that now I am sitting at home with a completely healthy toddler (daycare has a 24 hour quarantine policy for kids who are sent home sick) and I missed my damn workout this morning.

I guess I should be thankful LB didn't aspirate during the night, instead of complaining about missing my workout. I just wanted to complete the goal I had set for myself. I wanted the tree to survive the first week. Thank God JL is hardcore and STILL got up without me calling her.

I promise to do better next week!

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

Day 3 of Workout Tree

My mother doesn't keep a scale in the house. In fact, as a child, I don't ever remember having a scale within 30 miles of our residences. I think my mom was trying to avoid OWD (Obsessive Weighing Disorder) which would eventually lead her two daughters to develop full blown Eating Disorders. Or maybe she just hating weighing herself too.

As a teenager, this would drive me crazy, not knowing how many pounds I was. But without constant monitoring of my weight, it was easier to forget about it. I went through my days mostly clueless and partially in denial about my weight until I either:

  • Went to the Doctor
  • Saw a picture of myself (we really didn't have any full length mirrors at home either)

After that, I would hide in my friend's bathrooms, weighing myself on their scales when ever I visited. Then it would go like this:

  • Moment of HORROR- reading the numbers
  • Return home and cry about it
  • A few days later wonder how much I weighed now
  • A week later assume I either didn't lose any weight, so I might as well eat what I want, or assume I has lost weight and could eat something greasy if I wanted.
  • Return to friend's house and weigh myself again
  • Repeat cycle

I can't say that having a scale in my house would have changed these habits. I think that every teenage girl one day realizes that she is no longer just a person, but a person who will be viewed as either HOT or NOT. That day is one of the worst in your life (unless by some miracle you are one of those girls who at 12 has a mature sense of confidence and self-worth), and the battle with the scale begins.

Had I been one of those girls, maybe having a scale around wouldn't be such a big deal. All I know is at age 12, I realized my mother was hiding the scale from me, and for two reasons: to protect me from self-hatred, and to make me think that weight was not important. Of course my interpretation of that was that she didn't want to me know I was fat, and that by keeping me in ignorance, I would be thrown in the ocean of Kate Moss and calorie counting without a paddle.

Lets just say I hardly ever look at pictures of me in High School.

I'm 25 now, and I think I have matured considerably. I think I can handle having a scale in my house. It is only a tool to help track of a healthy lifestyle, right? I can monitor without OVERmonitoring, right?

What is your opinion on having scales in your house? How many times do you weigh yourself a week? A month? A day?

I wonder how much money is made in the "scale making" business..hehe.

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

Day Two-Workout Tree

And I thought my workout was going to be hell. I get to the office this morning and find 10 messages on my phone, all from angry parents who have been billed wrongly by yours truly. UGHHHHH. I WENT TO FILM SCHOOL DAMMIT! The worst call was from a mom who no longer has custody of her son and getting a bill for a couple hundred bucks was like pouring salt on her open wound.

And guess what else? Today is "National BOSS Day" and I had to run out and buy a Steve Carell card at lunch. I DID however resist the temptation to swing by Del Taco while at the Halmark Store. GO ME!

Day two of the workout tree was good. I think I'm regaining my Pilates balance ( I only fell twice today). BTW Curmudge and Jiji, I DON'T see either of you blogging about your experience. Well, I guess they have Husbands and Soon-to-be husbands, so they have priorities. I SWEAR I only blog at work! I do not sacrifice quality LB time for the Internet! :)

All I can say is I'd BETTER get a big fat card on "Administrative Assistant Day" :)

Monday, October 15, 2007

Day One of the Workout Tree

I was praying LB would go the full 11 hrs last night (man that seems like a long time to sleep), because I knew that 5 am was going to really hurt this morning. The daycare syndrome seems to be fully attacking my toddler's nose, and has now infiltrated her lungs.

With the recent recalls, I've been scared to give her ANYTHING, and I don't want to take her to the doctor when I know I'll just get the standard "Try sitting with her in a hot shower." So instead I've hooked up a humidifier in our room. She's had two nights this past week where she woke up in a coughing fit and and couldn't get back to sleep, so I was really crossing my fingers that the humidifier would do some justice.

At 5 am when my vibrating alarm went off, LB was sleeping soundly (ok, wheezing a little). I woke up completely at about 5:15, which is only a third of the way through my pilates video, instead of half way (yay an improvement!). I woke poor JL up at 5:30 and neither of us sounded very thrilled, but at least we actually followed through. What happened after that is any body's guess. I BETTER read about it on your BLOGS LADIES!

I took a shower this morning, which promptly woke up my bubbo a half an hour early, but other than that, I think it was a highly successful day one of the tree. LETS KEEP IT UP! WOO HOO!

Haha, I know they are all thinking "this new haircut has literally gone to her head". Love you guys!

P.S. I'm now eating my toddler's Gerber Puffs for a snack. They only have 25 calories per 60 puffs. Now THAT is pathetic.

Sunday, October 14, 2007

The Workout tree

I've enlisted my 3 closest friends in my crazy workout plan. We've devised a phone tree, where we all workout in the comfort of our own homes.

Here's the scoop:

  • I wake up at 5:00 am.
  • I do my work out DVD.
  • At 5:30 I call JL and wake her up.
  • She begins her workout DVD.
  • At 6:30 she calls jijikero to wake her up.
  • She begins her workout DVD.
  • We don't know if Curmudgeon82 is completely on board (having 2 jobs and all) but if she were to join, then jijikero would call her and get her butt going at this point.
  • We all get to work at the appropriate times, and don't have to worry about burning calories for the rest of the day.
  • At our weekly Saturday walk, we swap DVDs so we don't get bored or burnt out.
And since we all have blogs, you can read our chronicles online. See how we do? I think we are just going to try and make it through the first week.P.S. LB thanks you for her Pumpkin hat, Curmudgeon! She is so lucky to have such awesome Aunts.

Friday, October 12, 2007

Day One

Can I pat myself on the back? I got up before dawn to work out and I even waited until AFTERWARDS to drink coffee. YAY!

I did NOT get up at 4:15 however (what was I thinking?). My alarm went off at 5 am, and I managed to get myself up at 5:15 (double yay for me). Honestly, I don't think I was fully awake until part two of my pilates video, because it was over before I knew it. Sweating was at a minimal this morning, since I haven't done the program in over 3 months, and therefore was losing my balance through most of it. So I had the added bonus of not showering afterwards. I think once I work myself back to where I want to be, I'll have to add a quick shower to the morning.

By 5:45 I was done, drinking my coffee (after chugging two glasses of water) and reading the paper. These are things I like to do in the morning, and I hardly ever get to. Usually by 6:45, I've hit the snooze button on my phone, and then finally let LB's indignant "MAMA" get me up. I chug the coffee (usually leaving it half full), while getting LB ready. If I let myself open the paper, that's when I'm usually late out the door.

So this morning I had the utter joy of fully devouring the Durango Herald. Since I used to work there in advertising, I really like to read the ads, as well as the articles. Plus this morning's paper had the added bonus of headlines containing "La Plata County District Attorney GETS LOCKED UP FOR DUI" :):):):) HAHAHAHA love it.

I think I'm going to make this a habit.

Thursday, October 11, 2007

Revision in Plan

I already shot down half of my goals. My mom brought home donuts the other night, and I've eaten two. The Head Honcho at work had her birthday yesterday and I ate a ginormous piece of carrot cake. There was also a meeting where the lovely ladies decided to bake mini cup cakes and cheesecake. I ate about 4 mini cupcakes but managed to stay away from the cheesecake. There was a bag of dinner rolls sitting nonchalantly in the break room and without a thought, I walked over and stuffed one in my mouth.


I have a snack before bed almost every night. I haven't packed a salad for lunch in a week. I ate chicken Cesar wraps and pizza twice this week. I've also been binging on the most awesomely evil snack in the world: Trader Joe's Veggie Sticks.

I hate the fact that I sit on my ass all day at work. I would almost trade my increased salary for the days of running tables and delivering pizzas. I got my exercise while I was on the CLOCK back then. Now every time I eat, I know that I'm going to have to find the time to expel those calories AFTER my day ends.

For a while, I was walking almost daily with my mom and grandma, after I picked LB up at daycare. It was nice, and I felt great. Now its like pulling teeth getting my child to sit in a stroller at all. The walk becomes a screaming, stopping, crying, throwing, pulling, picking-up ordeal, and eventually I have to let her out and walk around. This does nothing for my selfish desire to keep my heart rate up, because walking with a 16 month old has the calorie-burning equivalent of watching the grass grow.

Luckily I have my friends, who entertain LB on the weekend while we walk. I keep asking them to bring their dogs because honestly, I think it will give my child some form of entertainment that will keep her in the stroller long enough for me to work up a sweat. Otherwise she gets bored and my friends are forced to swing her up and down the path.

I need to walk more. I want to walk after work everyday, but after 8 hrs of daycare, I feel guilty for making LB sit in a stroller while I frantically try to burn off the fat, instead of taking her home and playing or reading with her. The thought of going to the gym and leaving her in ANOTHER hour of childcare after her long day, turns my stomach.

No, the solution is to GET CONTROL over my sweet, fried, bread gluttonization so I don't feel so guilty that I get enough exercise. Well, maybe if I get up earlier and make a salad for lunch, work out and take a shower, then I won't have to worry about stealing valuable time from my mommy schedule.

That's it. I'm just going to have to suck it up. How much sleep would I have to cut out of my schedule in order for me to get a work out, shower and lunch made? 2 hrs?

I have to get to work a half hour earlier than my boss because I have to leave an hour earlier to pick up LB from daycare before they close at 5 pm. So my workday usually runs from 7:45 to 4:30, which technically only gives me 45 minutes for lunch (don't tell HR).

I get up at 6:30 to get out of the door by 7:15 (I really should be getting up at 6:15, since I'm almost always late). If I add 2 hours for workout, lunch making and shower, then that means I would have to get up at 4:15 AM !!?!!

The thought of that literally makes me want to cry. I love my sleep, which is widely considered as being lazy, but I faithfully chalk it up to being a Pisces. We are deep sleepers, and very hard to rouse. That's why when LB wakes up crying in the middle of the night, I'm being ripped from my innermost state of peace and solace ( haha dramatic isn't it?).

I should really try it. Maybe I will feel better. Maybe I won't be dead-ass tired by the end of the day (yeah right). Maybe I will be proud of myself. I am more than just a Pisces, I have some fire signs in me too, that might be able to kick the fish into gear.

Anyone want to try it with me?

P.S. Am I allowed to drink coffee BEFORE I work out?

P.P.S. Maybe this drastic change is backlash from the movie I watched last night. Seeing Jessica Alba just makes me feel even shiddier about myself. Plus watching this scene literally made me want to chain myself to a treadmill while purging a week's worth of food. Ugh could I feel any worse about myself?

(world's smallest violin plays)

Tuesday, October 9, 2007

The Lottery

I was reading some other blogs and found a post on "what you would do if you won the lottery?"

Here is what I would do:

1. Buy my parents a Vineyard in either Northern California or Southwest Colorado (which ever they wanted). That way my mom could work from home, drink wine, and stroll through the grape fields, and my dad could quit his carpet cleaning job, get inspired, play music and write songs. They could have separate houses at each end of the vineyard so they wouldn't have to see each other if they didn't want to. There would be an awesome hippy "Common House" for wine tastings, music parties and potlucks, where my parents could live out the rest of their lost-idealistic days.

2. Buy Jed a trip to Ireland, where he would stay there indefinitely, researching his family history, meeting distant relatives, finding out what his heritage is, and putting together some pieces that are still hanging in his life. Oh, and drinking a lot of Guinness and Bailey's.

3. Start some kind of a fund for LB's post-18 year old world. I don't know anything about investing, but if I was rich, I would hire someone to do the thinking for me. If I could learn how to do it myself, I would, but honestly, every time someone tries to explain the stock market to me, my right brain goes into a coma. Yes, it's embarrassing. I just want my daughter to have some sort of nest-egg that she can use for college, travel, charity, down-payment, whatever she wants, so I can give her a jump-start in her adult life.

4. Buy a huge amount of acreage so I could open a drive-in. The only drive-in we had in the space of 100 miles was sold last year to make way for guessed it...CONDOS. If I could strategically locate a drive-in between Durango, Bayfield, Pagosa Springs and Ignacio, I know people would come from miles around.
In the summer it would be a world of barbecues, and tailgate parties, dog-friendly and kid friendly nights, themed events like Rocky Horror, Disney Classics, Anime Night and 90's Action movies. But that's not all. It wouldn't have to shut down in the winter because there would also be a small indoor theatre as well. A theatre big enough to have id say 80-100 people max with a balcony. I would have a liquor license so we could have live events like battle of the bands, contra dances, and midnight movies. It would be a community gathering between all the towns of La Plata County. An Event Center for both kids and adults, all year long.

My mother thinks that there is no way I would make any money on a prospect like that. She thinks people would rather stay at home and watch their HD-TVs, which I don't disagree with. She is convinced I will always pick the least sensible option. But I'm sure she would take the vineyard with no complaints.

Monday, October 8, 2007

Being Selfish

On Sunday I drove 3 hours from Durango to the nearest actual "city": Albuquerque, NM. LB's daddy actually agreed to spend some time with her and go on toddler patrol overnight. So, I had about 24 hours ALL TO MYSELF!!!

Even better, my mother decided to buy herself a new car, which meant I got to drive my grandmother's sweet little Honda Accord on the way back. I didn't know what to do with myself. I spent $70 at Victoria's Secret (I haven't been there in 2 years) and bought LB her first potty chair (AHHHHHH), as well as gates for the stairs on my new apartment. Then I splurged.
Ok, so Victoria's Secret is a splurge too, but honestly, I think it is also a right to have good quality bras. A VS bra will last me 2 years at LEAST. If I hadn't had a baby and went up and down God-Knows-How-Many sizes since I got pregnant, then I probably would still be wearing the same 36D I was before. Sadly, I am now a 38DD (THOSE OF YOU WHO SAID MY BOOBS WOULD GO BACK TO NORMAL AFTER I STOPPED BREASTFEEDING ARE LIARS!!).
So I bought bras that will actually fit me, and will last longer than the 6 weeks it takes for a cheap bra's elastic to wear out. Ugh. Don't you hate it when the underwire comes shooting out of the fabric and stabs you in the cleavage? NOT FUN.
But part two of my selfish day o fun was to buy the first CD I've purchased in about 13 months. Driving home through rural Northern New Mexico leaves about two choices for radio stations: Mariachi and God Talkers. I couldn't face 3 hours of it. I bought Mary J Blige.
I haven't just cruised and pumped the bass up for fun in sooooooo long. Mostly I'm worried about LB's hearing, and my car doesn't have a cd player, so whats the point in buying cds? I don't have a computer of my own ( I always post from work). I don't even have a boom box, or a walkman or anything that resembles a CD player. But man do I love music. I haven't taken the time to really enjoy music in so long, and its such a pure and beautiful feeling.
So I drove home through the desert, red and gold and sage green with autumn colors. Over the Rio Puerco and arroyos. I drove though Cuba, NM -past the locally famous Mexican restraint: Bruno's, where all the bikers stop at. I drove across the Jicarilla Reservation and the casinos. I watched the sun go down in the west, fantasizing I could so far that the grey line at the horizon must be smog from LA.
I don't think the bass in my grandma's car has been cranked up ONCE, but it definitely has now. I was singing along to "I'll be there for you/You're All I need", yelling "I haven't hear this SONG SINCE I WAS 12!!!" Man I really love that song. It's amazing how the nostalgia of the music can just transport you back to when you were wearing plaid babydoll dresses over baggy jeans and screaming in joy every time "Gangsta's Paradise" came on the radio.
I have been in baby/toddler mommy mode for such a long time, I was relishing in the selfishness of being alone with myself, reminiscing. I am always doing 8 things at once now (even driving....ah scary huh?). I am on my cell phone, handing LB a cookie, digging around in the backseat for her sippy cup, and getting bouncy balls thrown at me, chauffeuring friends whose cars have broken down, all while trying to maneuver in rush hour traffic. Is this bad? Am I the only irresponsible mommy driver? Oh yeah, and my car is constantly trashed.
I really enjoyed my "me" time yesterday. I also had what I call "LB Letdown" during the entire process. I was very low, thinking about where she was, or what she was doing, and feeling guilty because I work full time, and every moment I have with her is precious. I finally got over it about 10:30 pm that night, and feel asleep, content in not having to worry about a 16 month old waking me up for once.

Tuesday, October 2, 2007

12 Goals for this Week

1. I will not HAVE TO finish everything in front of me

2. I will not SCARF

3. I will not eat while doing other things

4. I will not eat right before bed

5. I will not eat my lunch at 11:00 am because I know its in the fridge and I can't wait till noon

6. I will not go over the break room and obsessively look for leftover brownies

7. I will eat at least one salad a day

8. I will walk once a week with my buddies

9. I will do a work-out tape (when I move into my own place and my mother can no longer make fun of me)

10. I will not be driven by the "but it'll go to waste" mantra

11. Left-Overs are the devil

12. Brownies are Satan

Hair Hair Hair

My Hair is about 2 inches past my shoulders and I'm ready to hack it off. It's gotten way too white trash for me, looking like a tumbleweed. All I do is stick it in a ponytail everyday. I've always liked the shoulder-length look, but I might be ready to cut it off a little shorter.

These are the styles I like so far. Notice how I picked Keira Knightley? Maybe I can ask the stylist to just turn me into her. hehehe.

What do you think?

Monday, October 1, 2007

Cryin' over a County Song

I used to hate country songs. Why? I don't really know. Because my mom turned them off with a disgusted grunt every time they came on the radio? Because I was a child of the Grunge era? I listed to Nirvana, Bush, Green Day and Collective Soul when I was in middle school, and eventually graduated to Alanis Morrisette and Jewel.

Honestly, as I got older, my musical tastes became less selective. My college roommates used to call this "selling-out" or "posing." For some reason when I got to high school I ditched my Jewel and Sarah McLachlan CDs for ABBA and BeeGee Records. I went through a serious disco phase (much to my mother's utter horror). I wore bell bottoms, I was Roller Girl for Halloween, I smeared on the lip gloss-the more glitter, the better. I was also performing in random community musical theater at that point, so maybe it was my flare for the dramatic coming out. Maybe it was my desperate attempt to escape who I really was. Maybe it was my sad shot at rebelling against my mother's organic, minimalist, feminist upbringing (ok, I know you are all sick of hearing about my mother).

After the disco phase it was straight to Club Music and dancing of all kinds. In college I hardly stayed in a night. I went to Raves, I danced outside in fields. I even wrote a paper titled "The New Generation of Hippies: Ravers"

How did I eventually start liking country music? Well I guess when I finally started relating to it. When I came home, had a baby and had to start all over again from the bottom. You can't go out and drop E tablets anymore because rolling with a baby on your back is just kills your buzz (ha).

So you stay home and play patty-cake and pet the kitty. You make Easter-eggs and force your 16 month old into a bunny costume for Halloween. You watch Bear in the Big Blue House cause you can't go out to see the latest Brad Pitt. You have a glass of wine alone after the baby goes to bed, because your friends are out and you don't have daddy to babysit.

So I guess when my mommy- friend send me this song, and started bawling like my daughter at daycare in the morning, I really can't judge myself for understanding its message. I'm sorry mom, for likin' some country songs:

The Strong One – Clint Black

When God made woman I wonder sometimes
If it was a flower he had in mind
When he made her

A touch as gentle as a butterfly
A kiss so sweet it could stop time

God gave man the chance to be
The kind of strength a woman needs
He was supposed to be the one
To carry that load

But there she goes
Baby in her arms
World on her shoulders when her day starts
Workin’ a job that don’t pay much
But she thanks God it’s enough

And there she is
On her own two feet
He walked out, but she still got her dreams
Tries to laugh when she feels like cryin
Nobody’d blame her if she stopped tryin
But she’s got a heart that gives and gives
So you tell me who the strong one is

Tonight’s the first night in a while
She put on her makeup wearin’ a smile
She’s goin’ out
That everything was all planned out
But the fever that the baby’s got now
It’s all shot down
And she gives up what she wants to do
For what she has to
That’s what a mama does
And she’ll be there like she always is
When the sun comes up

I See, I Want, I Eat

I have a problem. Well, a few...but this is a big one: I am a compulsive eater, and mostly when it involves bready things like cake, muffins, sandwiches, donuts or tortillas. I see it, I can't pass it up.

This is how it plays out in my mind:

Enter me, notice huge pan of brownies sitting on the stove.

Brownies: Hi Hot Mama
Me: (blushing) Hey there..hehehe.
Brownies: Wanna come on over here and have a bite?
Me: No thanks, It's past 10 and I should be in bed.
Brownies: Aww come on, we're nice and warm and chocolatey.
Me: I bet you are, but I really should be doing something productive like Carmen Electra's Stripperobics.
Brownies: Ok fine, but in the morning we'll still be here and rock hard instead of fresh and yummy.
Me: OMG you're right.
Brownie: And you you'll still want one then, and will probably eat one just because its there. Doesn't matter if we are stale.
Me: Wow, you really do know me. I hate to watch something so scrumptious go to waste.

And then its on. I will devour as much as I can stomach and go to bed feeling absolutely disgusting. But its like I seriously have no control after ground zero. I go into a state of meditation or something like a lucid dreaming. Its bad, and I want it to stop.

My solution so far has to been to completely avoid these craveable items at all costs. However, when I do see them, its like I revert to the Brownie Zombie again. Honestly, I think I really need to "just say no" like they taught us in the D.A.R.E program. Can someone make me a t-shirt that says "just say no to brownies"?

Even if I KNOW they are there, I can't stop myself. At work people have the audacity to use the intercom to announce the presence of brownies in our building. For the rest of the day I can't stop thinking about that plate of goodness in the break room. I want to strangle whoever made that stupid announcement, because I can't even focus on my work.

My friend has invited me to go to weight watchers meetings, but I don't know if that is going to help me. I think this is a deep rooted psychological issue rooted in my mother's refusal to let us eat chemically altered goodies in the world.