Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Old Friends and a Movie

I went to see It's Complicated the other night with a couple of friends. It's a film by Nancy Meyers about a divorced couple (he's remarried; she's not), who end up having an affair so they can both resolve loose ends in their relationship (they had been married divorced for 10 years, married for 20). It was a comedy, kind of. And although I hate that Nancy Meyer's characters are always over the top, unrealistic wealthy, she does hit on life themes that transcend the socio-economic barrier.

The part that hit me the most was at the end when the three grown kids find out about the affair. Two of them were 12, 13 when the divorce happened. And the kids talk about how they really don't have any memories of when their parents were married. They remember the stories that were told and the pictures that were taken, but they can't remember the "original family" sitting down to dinner or getting tucked in. They remember living with Mom, and that was okay, because she was good.

In my child psych book last semester, they talked a bit about divorce during early adolescence, and how difficult it is and some of the coping mechanisms that kids can use to deal with the pain. It turns out that when my parents separated when I was 12, I implemented a few of those coping mechanisms. One of the mechanisms was being around other families that weren't separated and had a positive mother/father relationship (and those of us who have parents who chose to stay together that probably shouldn't have know that this is a hard role model to find).

My role model was right across the street, and I spent a fair amount of time at their house between the ages of 12 and 16. I babysat their two boys who were 3 and 5 years younger than me. I ate dinner at their house. I spent the night having sleep overs. I dog sat when they went on vacation. We played HORSE at the basketball hoop. We road bikes. My neighbor called me and invited me places, including trips to some random drive-in ice cream and burger place they used to frequent. It felt like I had two little brothers, and Lorane and Jim rocked at listening, checking in with me and making me feel like I wasn't alone during a time when I felt both of my parents had kind of checked out. Mostly, they made me feel welcome into their home at any time. It was an important experience for me.

Yesterday, I learned that Jim passed away on Sunday at age 61. I'm not ready for my friends' parents to start dying. We lost enough friends' parents when I was in high school and college -- abnormally early. But I still think 60 is way too young.

Monday, December 28, 2009

The House that Loosey Built

In August 2007, we moved into our current house. We spent 4 1/2 months planning and building the house -- something we've never done before. And there are some things we learned afterwards to keep in mind if we ever do any kind of building project again. None of them were huge complaints, but one of the decisions I decided to make was to put laminate flooring in X-man's room. It was a brilliant idea. You might think it's great for building track and running cars over, but really my excitement is that when he gets the stomach flu and vomits -- it's really easy to clean up.

I also made the entire first floor primarily wood and tile with only the family room being carpeted, because let's face it, I like soft carpet on my feet. But I also knew that with a house with plenty of animals and a toddler, the carpet wasn't going to last long. I thought long and hard about it and decided that the warmth under my feet was worth it being gross and needing it to be changed out every five years -- because knowing the carpet would take a beating -- I bought mediocre carpeting with a mediocre padding.

Well, this is where I learned a lesson. It's not gonna make it to five years. At a little over 2 years, I'm already disgusted by it. Even with cleanings every six months, the family room takes a beating. My kid spills things. My cats vomit. My husband cannot remember to take is frakking shoes off to save his life. The same thing goes for the stairs and foyer in the upstairs hallway.

Tonight X-man found a bottle of nail polish and painted his toes in the hallway while MacTroll was getting ready for his man date and I was putting away laundry. Bright red paint on the hallway carpet. And just so you know, if you talk sternly to my child in a disappointed tone -- he instantly processes the guilty feeling in his gut as hunger and asks for food. Funny (but mostly sad) how that's already engrained in his head, huh? Tell me that's not biological, because I've never used food as a reward with him.

So, next time... double hung windows in all the rooms, area rugs that can be cleaned and swapped or just trashed while we're the animal house, a driveway that extends straight out and doesn't bend and buy blinds up front, because we're apparently too lazy to put them in now. :-)

MacTroll spent 20 minutes working with the Kleenrite solution and got most of it off the carpet. I spent 20 minutes with toenail polish remover getting it off of most of X-man's foot, arms and hands.

Sunday, December 27, 2009

Winter Wonderland

Today, 3/4 of the Illinois Marathon Relay Team and I decided that running outdoors in 5 inches of snow was not our style. Instead, we took Special K to breakfast at Le Peep. I was one of the first cars to leave my subdivision and plow through the blanket of snow that quieted Savoy. Then it was great to sit down with a cup of tea and some fruit and yogurt and chat for an hour.

When I got home, I started cooking a beef stew for lunch. Then while it was cooking for 2 hours, X-man, MacTroll and I headed out to begin the snow removal process. X-man and I had shovels. MacTroll had our electric snowthrower.

Once X-man and I finished the front walk, we made snow angels and threw snow at Riley (who goes bonkers in it) and then we pulled out the sled and took a very long walk around the neighborhood. Of course, halfway around, X-man started crying that his gloves were wet and his hands were cold. But, of course, he wouldn't wear mine. Then when I convinced him that we'd be home soon, I got 1/2 way down the next street on the return trip only to have him start crying as the wind pelted him in the face with large flakes of snow.

"Mommy, go home. I need to warm up!"

Yeah, um, that's where we were going.

Inside, MacTroll devoured the stew (minus the mushrooms). X-man wouldn't touch it. He's more of a fruit and bread guy rather than a meat and potato kid. Now I'm about to get ready to head to the rec center for a run while the boys play the Wii.

But really, I just want to put my head down and nap. It's that kind of afternoon. :-)

A Wii 47, a mouse's ass and a giant grocery bill

MacTroll got the family a Wii for Christmas. He picked up the sports edition and then went out tonight with X-man and found an I Spy game. I'm pretty sure the boys played it the entire time I cleaned out the fridge, put the dishes away, ate my dinner (I do not suggest the 200 calorie DiGiorno's -- they're tiny and stupid. I finished off a trial pizza to get it out of my fridge.), cleaned out X-man's toy bin, took the garbage out, did the laundry, went grocery shopping, put away the groceries and checked my e-mail. Then after X-man was asleep we did the Fit portion of the Sports section... MacTroll got a 36 (he's 34) -- and I got a 47 (I'm 33). The whole time we're playing we can hear Luke wrestling with a mouse. By the time we checked on him, Maya was in on the action. And, um, when she's hungry -- she eats them. Apparently, she was famished. So, MacTroll ended up cleaning some blood and a mouse butt and tail up off the floor tonight.

KTDID, MacTroll and I had cleared our refrigerator of all the "old food" before Christmas. It was crazy leftover week that whole week, pretty much. So, we were out of everything. I tried not to have a heart attack when I paid for the total. It was laundry detergent, a few things of meat, LOTS of fresh fruits and vegetables for the garden lasagna I'm making tomorrow night. Even with sales and coupons, it was still cringe worthy.

I didn't get to run on Christmas Eve day due to the ice storm hitting Rockford. But I did do 3 miles on Christmas Day. One of the miles was more like ice skating around Anna Page Park. Then today, when we got back home, MacTroll dropped me off at the Savoy Rec Center and I decided to music intervals for 60 minutes. It felt nice to just move that long. It feels nice to get to the end of 60 minutes and know you could go longer. Sure, it's not the fastest way to move, but I've never been very great at being competitive, even with myself.

The holiday went okay. I hadn't been home on Christmas Day in 3 years, so it'd been a while since anyone had seen or talked to me outside of my immediate family. I'm not a big group person. I do much better in small groups. Being around 21 people on Christmas Day completely wore me out. And I didn't really talk to most of them. I was either with X-man (who was also overwhelmed) or I was talking with my Mom or trying to help Barbara with the clean up.

I did avoid the dessert table, minus 3 turtles that I ate, which is good because there were 6 different kinds of dessert! I avoided the stuffing. One third of my plate was green salad, the other third was a vegetable mix. I had around 3 oz of white meat turkey (no gravy), one whole wheat roll and about 1/4 cup of roasted potatoes with mushrooms and brie. My appetizers included 8 - 1/2 oz shrimp, 3 black olives, 2 small rye breadsticks, 4 almonds, 2 cashews, 2 diet cokes and a Fiber One bar (to keep from snacking -- supposedly).

I know what I ate, but I haven't added up the calorie estimate. I'm pretty sure, it's going to be way too much for any running I do to make Monday's weigh in a success. I feel like where I was last week -- kind of stuck in a maze. I think I know the way out and then I turn a corner and am at the beginning of the maze again.

Wednesday, December 23, 2009


I'm staring at the closet wondering what to wear to Christmas. I have to pack for myself and X-man today. Then I need to load up the car with the overnight bags and presents. But I'm not in the mood. I think it's the weather. Waking up to a cold rain, a sore lower back and wobbly knees made me decide that after yesterday's reintroduction to swimming, I needed a break today. But it also means that I'll need to exercise for 45 minutes both tomorrow and Friday.

I hope everyone has a wonderful holiday season. MacTroll and I will be spending Dec. 30-Jan 2. in Chicago as a couple. So think good thoughts for my Dad while he and Barbara have X-man for 3 1/2 days. X-man is just a giant ball of emotions these days. So we'll see how they all fair.

As for me, I better get to it. Merry Christmas! Happy New Year!

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Wonderful Weather

Like many of the people I know, we're driving to spend the holiday at relatives. And the Weather Channel is creating a lot of panic regarding some ugly freezing rain that Mother Nature is apparently sending our way in the next few days. And I know that if it's too dangerous to leave, we'll be staying here, but I also know that the Weather Channel is rarely timely about when things will happen.

Mostly, since I'm leaving on Thursday, I'm hoping whatever ugliness happens occurs tonight so it can be salted and cleaned up by the time I leave on the 24th. This, of course, helps no one who is leaving tomorrow. I also hope that those that are already on the road going longer distances than my short 3-hour trek to Rockyford are able to travel safely throughout their journey.

I know I have no control over weather (although from time to time X-man orders me to make it stop raining or to warm it up or cool the weather down). Instead, I'm concentrating on the feeling that's just now coming over me. I was afraid it would never get here. The wonder and kindness of Christmas. The enjoyment of those I love. The pleasure of spending time with them. I also find it awesome that MacTroll will have NO work to do between Christmas Eve and Jan. 3. We've missed him around here. And we're happy to finally get to spend some time together.

Monday, December 21, 2009


I keep thinking about what a spoiled woman I am. How I keep working at self improvement trying to become a better woman, better friend, better lover, better student, better mother... I know that other people face much steeper hills to climb. They were not born with the same advantages that I was. And yet, often times, I still feel like I'm about to drown, like I'm coughing up water and worn out. Worse yet, I feel all alone.

Then something good happens. And I recognize it as a positive, but the brilliance of it is dimmed by my doubt, worry and my lack of self esteem. How can I possibly be the bad ass they say I am when I feel so small and fragile? How can I project that persona when all I feel is a void?

I lower my eyes so I don't do that wicked thing -- comparing. I lower my eyes so I don't have to engage. I sit in the shadow of those who recognize the brightness of their own lights because I am happy that they glow. They're warm and encouraging people to be around.

But most of the time, I don't feel like I have that glow inside. Most of the time, I feel like a big fraud. Most of the time, I understand that the only thing holding me together is the wee bad ass Looseyfur, deep inside, shouting at the top of her lungs that she exists, like some kind of Who from Whoville.

She is part of my brain. She is my favorite part of me. She knows she's not perfect, but she understands herself and others for who they really are. And for her, I will endure and fight and adapt. For her voice raises me in the morning and comforts me at night. She is the necessary spark that will light my flame.

Saturday, December 19, 2009

The vocabulary is growin'

X-man's usual learning curve on words has reached a new level. He now wants to put random words and sounds together to be funny. He's also obsessed with words about pottying.

Yesterday at the library, we ran into one of his friends from school. Turtle E was lying down on the puppet theater at the Champaign Public Library. X-man noticed him, ran up, kissed him on forehead and said, "How's it goin' Butthead?"

My head sunk into my hand, and I hoped Turtle E's grandmother and brother couldn't determine what he said. I tried not to over react and give the word power. If he knows I don't want him to say it, he's so much more likely to use it. Because clearly he showed great affection for Turtle E. I think he just thought it was a funny word to say.

Then today in the car on the way to Target, X-man dropped his sticky fruit roll-up (last time I buy those) on his coat. "Oh crap!" He used it appropriately, but when I asked him why he said it, he couldn't really figure out an answer. I guess it just comes naturally.

So, if your ears are a bit sensitive to certain words, you may want to steer clear of X-man for a while. Because I literally have no idea what he's going to say. I can promise you that we're trying to teach him not to use words toward people in a hateful way. No name calling out of anger, fear or bullying. I think here -- he actually meant Butthead as a pet name.

Thursday, December 17, 2009


36 hours after I started taking the z pack, I feel almost downright human again -- just in time for the weekend!

I knew I was feeling better when I went to an appointment today and was eavesdropping on a woman trying to convey the top 4 reasons why she should change from a hospitality degree at Parkland to becoming a registered dietician. It was fascinating, until she repeated her argument a third time and the man she was with still just looked at her like she hadn't said anything at all.

My favorite was where she talked about how a lot of the courses for hospitality crossed over with the dietician ones. (She listed gen ed requirements like a math and an English 101.) Then she said she thought she'd be able to handle the math in the sciences now as an adult so much better than she could in high school.

That statement hit on a fantasy of mine. I hated math in high school. A long time ago, I thought it might actually be fun to start in a basic algebra class (like the one I took in 8th grade and got a B and then retook in 9th grade after 8 weeks of getting a D in College algebra -- got an A in regular Algebra -- and two years later still got a D in College Algebra).

Anyway, I thought it would be fun to start over again and just work my way through Algebra, Geometry, College Algebra, Trigonometry, Calculus, etc. Just to see that I can do it. Kind of like losing the weight, it would be proof that I could do something that I thought I'd never be able to do.

And if I could do it -- giant confidence boost.

Of course, I'm not sure where she got her info that it would only take 4 more courses from her hospitality degree to become a registered dietician and that she'd make $90k... I'm sure my health educator at Carle would be completely stoked if she could make $90k as a nutritionist in this area -- and she has a master's degree.

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Holy sore throat, Batman!

Last night, I had a hard time falling asleep. X-man was out by 9 p.m. And I sat in bed forever not able to sleep. I ended up watching "Up Close and Personal" over Youtube... so you know it was bad. I finally fell asleep a little before 1 a.m.

At 2 a.m., the dog got me up to go outside.

At 3 a.m., I woke up to pain in my throat. It is pretty common since I've had a lot of post nasal drip lately. Except the pain was way worse than normal. My mouth felt a lot more dry. When I went to get a drink of water I found that my throat felt so swollen that I couldn't swallow. Interesting.

At 4 a.m., Riley got me up to go out again. (Not sure what his issue was.)

At 5 a.m., X-man came in my room and snuggled up.

At 5:30 a.m., X-man and Riley had a bed sharing issue.

At 6 a.m., my throat was still a mess, so I called into work sick.

At 8:45 a.m., I dropped X-man off at school and went to Convenient Care. I was still having a lot of pain and a hard time swallowing.

At 9:15 a.m., the CC doctor sat in front of me doing his one-man, fill-the-time-until-the-rapid-test-results-come-back show. For the record, he thought it was just irritation from my cold and wanted me to take some ibuprofen rather than Tylenol. The results came and -- Strep throat.

So, I picked up my Z-pack, came home, rescheduled some appointments and am sitting in bed. I'm eyeing books, but I think instead I'm going to watch movies. I'm eyeing Varsity Blues (who doesn't love a good football movie?), Love Actually (it's a feel good movie) or Grosse Pointe Blank (come on a hitman goes to his high school reunion -- priceless).

Or I could just rewatch all of Firefly. It's been a while since I've seen it. Maybe since I was pregnant with X-man...

Of course as I type this, I'm sitting cross-legged in bed with my laptop in front of me. Nyssa is lying in my lap and across my right forearm. Clawdio is lying up my left knee with one arm on my left elbow and his head resting on my left forearm. Riley is just beyond the laptop... So no stretching any appendages for the time being.

Monday, December 14, 2009

Variety is the spice of -- something

I've been cooking meals at least 4 nights a week since August. I started this cooking fascination around 6 weeks before I entered into maintenance with my weight management program. So, I'd make a dinner, plate it and then cook my HMR meals for me and sit down and eat with the family.

Once I was able to start eating real food at the end of September, I continued with the cooking. Usually it's 4 new meals and then 2 nights of leftover and a night where either KTDID or MacTroll are in charge of dinner. It's been pretty awesome. I post the recipes I make (and like) to my Facebook account, so others might be interested in trying them.

But I have to admit, even though I've given a fair to super yummy rating on all the low-calorie meals I've made so far, my search for good low-calorie baking recipe has come to an end. Everything I make I end up throwing away, not just because it's clear that baking is a GIANT trigger for crappy eating (hand to mouth, hand to mouth) but because I feel pretty --meh-- about the things I'm eating. I'd rather eat something good once a month than have something mediocre every night of the week.

KTDID pointed out to me the other night that I've only made one recipe twice in the last 4 months. And she's right. I keep finding new things to try, new tastes to discover. I feel like Remy the rat on Ratatouille. I find it fun, particularly since I never have to do my own dishes, now.)

Now that the weather is turning (blah to the 6 degree morning last Thursday), I've also been seeking out other high intensity workouts. Last Thursday I did my first cycling class at the gym. It was fun. I'm hoping to go back this week. I also tried a Body Blast class today (first half is cardio, second half is weight training with low weights at a lot of reps). They were both very fun and different. But mostly, I was surprised to find that I wasn't afraid to go into either of them and announce myself as a newbie. I also felt pretty good when I finished them.

I'm getting closer and closer and closer to my next impedance test to see where my body fat percentage lies. I'm curious to see what it says.

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Cultural Groups Based on Body Size

The second item I've been turning over in my mind is related to how there appears to be a cultural divide between those that are small and those that are large.

Being a woman who used to think about pointing her car at skinny runners on the street who were all perky and perfect at 6 a.m. running while I endured an hour-long commute into the city for work... I'll be honest. I thought I was part of the "out" crowd as an obese person. I just figured it was because I hated the fact that they figured out how to work exercise into their schedule and I didn't. I was angry that they were pointing out something I couldn't find in myself and, on those really shitty weather days, I just thought they were plain crazy or vain.

Funny, now that I'm on the flip side, I still completely understand the drive to run over the perkily fit, even as I start to get used to the idea that most people consider me one of them. It's like seeing a broader picture and knowing that I've played several different roles. I was never lazy while I was obese. I just channeled my energy and time into different things. Now, the food planning and exercise comes first for me. But I am still just me -- the same person I was before.

So I don't know how to respond when suddenly someone I don't really know includes me in a skinny girl conversation. Nor do I know what to do when suddenly I realize I've been ousted from the phat girl conversation. I don't want to be part of the skinny girl club. I don't know that jargon. I'm much more of a phat girl at heart trapped in a smaller body.

The other day I actually ran into someone from my past who has similar weight issues as me. And when her brain processed who I was, I swear she tried to take flight in any direction to avoid me. And it hurt my feelings. Even though I thought I understood why she felt that way. It still sucked. I don't know where I fit. I don't like the different way people look at me. I don't like that even though I'm relatively controlled about what I consume and how I exercise, people assume that I'm some kind of food or fitness nazi.

I actually feel quite alone, like now I don't belong anywhere. Unless there's a formerly phat women's group out there?

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Thoughts about Bigness

I'm carrying a slew of thoughts around in my head this week regarding size. So, you may read about a lot of them in the coming days.

Right now I'm focused on physicality. Tomorrow, I've made an appointment to go in and get my right lower back/hip/buttocks checked out. I've had issues there since I was 16 and injured the muscles in a soccer game (I used to play keeper for anyone who didn't know me then). I ended up tearing a number of muscles, which brought my soccer career to a temporary hold and earned me months of physical therapy. I could stand or I could lie down comfortably. Moving my leg to sit down or drive was terribly painful. I ended up taking my ACT standing up in the back of the cafeteria and standing through 6 hours of class each day. The x-rays the orthopedic surgeon took then said that nothing was broken, it was all muscular. But over the years, it's continued to give me problems. Of course, when I'd have issues and see a doctor (3 of them in the past 10 years), they'd always tell me that the problem was muscular (no x-rays were taken or actual tests given at these other appointments) and that if I'd lose 50 lbs the problem was likely to go away. Then they'd prescribe muscle relaxants and vicodin, tell me to rest for a couple of days and then start an walking program and watch what I ate. (But no actual guidance on how to do either.)

The same thing happened when I injured my IT bands training for a marathon in 2001 (my attempt to try to be more active). I strained them running on concrete during the practice marathon (I finished 23 of 26.2 miles before calling MacTroll, who rushed me home to ice them and then basically had to half carry me to the doctor's office the next morning, where I was given another 3 months of PT). That therapist said I was restricted to running 5k or less and gave me a list of stretches to do.

Before I got pregnant, I noticed my left foot hurt below the pinky toe. It made, what we referred to in yoga classes, "crunchies" whenever the foot was massaged or turned a certain way. So, I went to a podiatrist who told me that my obesity was causing tendonitis in my left foot and that I would need to wear comfortable shoes (as the inserts he built didn't help) and lose 50 lbs. in order to fix it.

Mmmm, do you see a magic number here?

So now I've lost over 83 lbs, and guess what? Both the areas are still tender. I'm guessing 50 lbs wasn't the magic number, and I'm feeling kind of angry at myself and at those doctors for just dismissing the problems as "just" being obesity related. Now that I'm older, and more familiar with my body, I'm better prepared to be my own advocate. Before, when they dismissed me because of my weight, I would get down on myself and beat myself up about how I was breaking myself for food, and I learned not to complain about them again, even though they still bothered me.

Here's hoping I can come to some kind of diagnosis and solution for both problems. They've both been managed through massage when the pain starts to peak. But massage always tends to only be a short-term solution. I don't want to just take ibuprofen for the pain. I want to know what's wrong and what I can do fix whatever is damaged in those areas through PT or personal training or pilates or yoga or whatever.

I need some answers. Is it just me? Or has anyone else ever felt like their physical complaints were just swept under the rug by the medical community because of their weight?

Monday, December 7, 2009

A Balancing Act

Yesterday I woke up ready to run... in my brain. I also woke up with a dry mouth, sore throat and nasty cough from postnasal drip. I decided to let my body rest a bit... so instead I cooked, baked and cleaned from 7 a.m. until 12:30 p.m. Then I had some CARE friends over to bake (holy cow they are awesome bakers and decorators). We do this at the holidays and then combine all of our cookies for teacher/neighbor gifts, etc. It's also a really nice way to spend the afternoon.

I stepped on the scale yesterday after a hard food week. I hate out three times (which is really hard to track). The worst was when I took MacTroll out for his Christmas gift on Friday night.

We drove down to Effingham and ate at the Firefly Grill and then went to the (now deceased) Rosebud Theatre to see Lewis Black. It was the first time in many months that I ate with my gut (literally) rather than my brain. And I felt pretty terrible about the whole thing. So when I stepped on my scale I was not surprised that the number went up instead of down. One week out of four in maintenance goes this way. It's an indication of my slowing fall. And, of course, it keeps me hovering in the low to mid 160's just slightly above the normal BMI of 159. So each time it happens, I get my brain and butt in gear and regroup. Then I have three good weeks. The crappy week always seems to follow a hormonal surge that drives the food cravings -- go figure.

But it's annoying. The scale stuff. The cold. The fact that I won't meet my calories burned goal, but will meet my 40 runs in 8 weeks goal. The fact that I went to bed last night at 6:30 p.m. absolutely exhausted, woke up at 7 a.m. this a.m. and still felt -- bleh.

And then there's the fact that one part of me wants to crawl back in bed this a.m. and the other part really wants to go to the gym and do a Body Blast class for the first time. But I also know I have to do my last Child Psych online test and work on my paper for class.

Now if only my child would eat his breakfast. Because that's the first challenge today.

Friday, December 4, 2009


So, I registered for the Jingle Bell 5k on Sunday. And I wrote down that it's at 10 a.m. But it's at 2 p.m. At 2 p.m., I'll be sitting on my sofa with a bunch of girl friends baking cookies at my house, and, um, although I want to see how my 5k time has improved in a race environment (I had planned to run it doing Serena Williams' speed work out just to see what happens.), it now occurs to me that I don't have to do that. Instead, I could just run a 5k anywhere and see if my time improves. :-)

So, I'll be getting up to run a 5k on Sunday morning. Just me, by myself. I'm going to do it over at the Robeson Meadows West Park where the CU on the Trails 5k was. Special K and I ran there today and the course was still marked on the sidewalk. Sooo, my goal is to run it faster than 32:44. And I'm happy that the arthritis folks will benefit from my donation and race registration. :-)

But I'm not giving up cookie baking with my girls for anything. Even if I'm gong to pre-bake mine so we all have something to snack on -- so I can just sit on the couch and socialize.

P.S. This is the second time in the last 3 weeks I've messed up on days and times. It's nothing that's dire. (I still pick up my kid on time and drop him off on time.) But it does make me wonder if I'm overbooking myself, or if I'm losing my short term memory. We all know I'm insane, but usually I'm pretty punctual. I mean at least 80 percent of the time... unless my kid won't get in the car, or there's a train or I have a flat tire.

Tonight I'm skipping the downtown parade festivities and taking MacTroll out for his Christmas present. We're having a date night, but it's kind of a surprise, so I'll blog about it tomorrow. :-)

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Does someone have the keys to these cuffs?

From the moment he woke up this morning X-man has been all over me: Literally. He couldn't separate from me in the a.m. so I could make his breakfast. Every 3 seconds was "Mom!" with a list of crazy demands. He refused to take no for an answer, and when I gave him the silent treatment he just started screaming his demands louder. Talking only got him upset and hitting or making a fist and shaking it at me. Hugs got screams of "Let go of me!" or "You're hurting me! I'm bleeding now! I'm calling the police!" Time outs only got fits of outrageous violence.

Finally, I threw my hands up, wrestled him into some clothes after breakfast, distracted him with a toy to get him to the car, buckled him in and dropped him off at the Tiger room thankful that for the next six hours he'd be in their care, which was going to be about a zillion times healthier and more sane than if we were together all day.

I went walking with LibbyGirl and Thunder McGavin, which always helps me feel better, but didn't clear my head. I ate my lunch in silence thinking about this attachment thing. You fight tooth and nail to make sure your child knows you're there for him, but then you walk the balance of making sure he knows that you're not about to be his servant. It's funny, at 18 months, he was all Mr. Independent, I'll do it myself. Now at 3 1/2 he's all sit on the couch and issue unmet demands.

We made some house rules over the weekend. We all got to contribute to the list of 8. I started since it was my idea. And the most important rule I could think of was to be respectful and polite. X-man's most important rule was not to play with matches. MacTroll's was to be careful with electronics (?-- yes, I'm serious).

When I picked X-man up, it was a similar thing. He hadn't napped today and his teachers warned me that he was in a pretty raw emotional state all afternoon. And it was obvious he was shaken up. He couldn't clearly communicate in the fact that one minute he wanted something and the next he didn't. He was giddy over the idea of our meet up today and playing with friends and making animal cracker trains -- until the friends got there, and then he only wanted to play with me.

I put him in the tub at 7:20 p.m. It took me 20 minutes to get him upstairs and in a state where he could stop screaming in my face about still wanting to eat dinner (he sat at the table for an hour... he consumed 1/2 and then stopped and kept playing with it). Now he's in there ordering around the Wiggles and Toy Story characters. I'll fish him out at 8 p.m. and hope he goes down by 8:20 p.m. Because, boy howdy (as MacTroll would say), does he need some sleep.

I'm working tomorrow at Mother's Morning Out. They're apparently separating from First Presbyterian and moving buildings! My aunt got a note in the mail from the church the other day, but I'll find out more about that tomorrow. I have to be there at 8:15 a.m., so X-man is going to have a long day at Next Generation, since I also have to do a LONG run in the afternoon to try and keep up my calorie goal. I'm closing in, but it's going to be rough. And then I won't do another calorie challenge until the spring. Instead, I'm going to insert some swimming during lunch time or evenings next semester over at the Urbana Aquatic Center. A little high cardio/non impact should do my body good.