Thursday, August 30, 2012

Rough and tumble -

I'm having a rough time - I can't seem to get back to my exercise with Fuss's school schedule, I'm eating terrible again, I've been hormonal or something this week (the middle of my cycle) and all morning I have felt like I needed to cry, but I don't have any idea WHY I need to cry. I'm so freaking tired, but other than a late night and oversleeping this morning (which ended up netting me about 7 hours of sleep) I haven't been sleeping bad of late. I really hope this isn't the side effects from going off of the happy pills - I do not want to be on them forever and since the weight does seem to be coming off me easier now that I am off the pills, I REALLY don't want to go back on them and get fat again.

I've lost 11 pounds. My go for the end of the summer was something like 40 or 50, so I'm obviously FAR away from meeting that, but maybe, hopefully, I can keep it going and lose my goal by the end of the year. Honestly, I don't think I'll ever be a size 4 again (that was iffy even at my skinniest point), but being far away from shopping in the Big Girl stores would be really nice.

I feel like I keep failing. We had been doing so well at keeping our kitchen spotless - a feat since we have WAY too much stuff in our kitchen and not anywhere near enough places to put it all. But it has returned to near-disaster status and my living room looks like a mess-monster threw up. I haven't written more than a paragraph in weeks, my desk is messy AGAIN and I seem to be back to that place where I want to sleep all the time again.

And the Terrible Twos have come upon my son - he'll be 2, officially, on Sunday. He is moody and irritable and challenging and stubborn and then he contrasts that with being sweet, helpful, cuddly and funny as all get out, all while still only about about 2 dozen words (and only half of those are in regular rotation).

Friday, August 24, 2012

Thirty-Two

So.
Thirty-two.
For my 12th birthday, my parents and I spent the day shopping for hurricane supplies in prep for what looked to be a bad storm (would have been Hurricane Andrew, I think - missed us, but caused all sorts of devastation elsewhere) coming up. Not exactly my idea of a great time.

For my 22nd birthday, my boyfriend (now-husband)'s grandmother had just passed away and he wasn't really feeling the celebration. I had been hoping he would propose, but knew that was now a no-go. We kept it low-key.

For my 32nd birthday, I took my son to the Dr.'s office to be diagnosed with pink eye while my husband was distracted and stressed over a potential work evacuation this weekend due to - yes, another hurricane. (This one shouldn't be as much of a problem as Andrew, at what looks to be a Category 1, but still might require relocation if we get a close or direct hit. TBD at this afternoon's meeting.)

I think it's safe to say that my years-that-end-in "2" are not exactly the best years for birthdays.

Our big celebration actually comes this weekend. On Saturday, my mom and I are going to have ourselves some grown-up girl fun and spend the morning/early afternoon at Ulta (I'm getting a haircut and hopefully a makeover) and we'll do lunch. Then tomorrow night we're going out with some friends - to the shooting range and then to dinner at a place that looks fantastic (we haven't been, but if the menu is any indication, I'm psyched!)


Saturday, August 18, 2012

Granny Panties

There is nothing like needing to borrow a pair of undies from your grandmother to make you feel
  • completely un-sexy
  • embarassed
  • grouchy
  • very silly indeed
Trust me on this one.

Since my 2nd pregnancy (and the massive weight-gain that followed) I've worn what I jokingly referred to as "granny panties". High-cut briefs, mostly. They are more comfortable and fit my larger-than-I'd-like rear, so my dear husband just has to deal. I have mostly black, so he doesn't complain (much) though he still suggests the thongs, g-strings, and sexy-looking boy shorts from Fredericks occasionally. I put on the boy-shorts at least once a week. The others come much less frequently.

But now I know what REAL granny panties look like on me - and it is NOT pleasant. My husband had better not complain about my cotton, under the belly-button style in the near future. I think I could have used these things as a blanket for my new "niece". (really, my best friend's baby, but we've been friends for so long, we're basically family.) Except of course, they were white and cheap polyester. Hope I never have to go through that again.

But thanks, Gram, for the assist. I really do appreciate it.