Zippity Do Da and A Wino

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Zippity-Do-Da-Motherfuckers! I made it. I actually posted for every letter. I basically wrote  everyday. It was a hectic month. I've had a lot of shit on my mind and dark clouds over my head, writing has really helped in a way that only running used to. Yay, for free therapy!

This week's topic is: What's bugging you lately?

What's bugging me, is that I've run into a road block. It's my drinking. I'm trying to lose weight and drinking is not conducive to this quest. Unfortunately not drinking means...(dramatic pause)... No drinking, and that just sucks.

It bothers me that I'm an alcoholic.

Not in a lose my job, family, home, dignity kind of way.

Not in a have to do it, to make it through a day kind of way.

I just like to, and I do. Often. It's just every time I shouldn't, because it's empty calories, or it's poison for the body I'm training, or I was pregnant and then pumping and nursing. I have to face the fact that I hate not being able to drink when I want to. That my friends makes me a wino.

And that really bothers me.

This post is brought to you
by the letter 'Z'

It's Over

Of course I always knew the time would come when we would be here. When it would be over, and I couldn't wait. Except now that it is. It's so bittersweet.

Animal stopped nursing completely this week. He's been self weaning for a couple of months now. Only nursing before bed. We have this routine, we turn on his little turtle that puts stars on the ceiling, then we turn on his gentle giraffe (womb sounds) finally I pull out our boppy and we sit in our special chair across from his crib. When he's done nursing I lay him down and tuck him in before walking out.

A few days before Mother's day after turning on his stars and sounds, I pulled out the boppy and he waved goodbye to me very sweetly. It surprised me, but I went with it. Half expecting him to reach out to me crying when he realized I was going to just lay him down and walk out. He smiled at me angelically as I put him down and tucked him in. I said, "Good night, I love you". He babbled softly and pulled his blanket up to his chin. Then I walked out, and he went to sleep. I teared up. It was over. I didn't have a baby anymore.

Of course he's been a toddler for the better part of a year. But at least once a day, he was still my baby. And of course he always will be, except he isn't.

I always knew I was going to breastfeed, but I had never expected to nurse past his first birthday. Once we read all the material on breastfeeding, the hubby and I just agreed that I would nurse him until he was done. Or he turned two. I didn't want to nurse a preschooler. Then I met all these women that are crunchy granola moms not crunchy granola lite, like me that I kinda admire. I'm such a hippie at heart. It just seemed less and less strange, and more and more natural that we would self wean.

Then he shocked me. He's been self weaning for months, and it's just done. He just grew up. It seemed so natural and pretty much seamless how it just ended.

Don't get me wrong, I'm glad to have my body back. It's great to have the extra time and that the hubby can put the baby to bed without me any night now. I'm especially excited to NOT have to look at the clock to decide if I can have a glass of wine.

It's bittersweet.

Yadda, it kind of sucks to be done with the baby days.

This is post is brought to
you by the letter 'Y'

Listen Yuckbuddies, yadda is like bleep for the bad word. C'mon it's the letter Y, there is little to choose from as far as "bad" words go.

Tavern Tale Tuesdays

Guys I'm guest posting today at:

I'm really excited to share some of my best tips with you to make your trips to Whole Foods Market more budget friendly. Just click here.

       

This post is brought to you
by the letter 'X'

Last week, Kate@Another Clean Slate posted a pretty funny post about a mishap she had when she was meeting some friends for a drink. This story cracked me up and made me think of all the ridiculous things that I have done/have happened to me/I have seen when I have been out with friends or the hubby. I thought it would be fun to share these tales occasionally in post I'll title Tavern Tale Tuesdays. I'm starting with a story I'm actually embarrassed about, but I needed to use the letter x...

Without further ado...

One night the hubby and I went to a club where a friend would be the DJ. We got dressed up, and as per our usual we invited EVERYONE we would like to drink and dance with.

I was at my fittest and the hubby had bought me this amazing dress. It was not at all revealing but it hugged my curves in all the right places. I was looking pretty hot, and was feeling really confident that night. We had a lot of friends there and were having a fabulous time dancing our asses off and drinking copious amounts of liquor (my very favorite combo).

We were hanging out with these two really good looking guys I always thought were gay (because they were always together, dressed very fashionably, were well groomed and gentlemanly) but they were(are) totally straight. The hubby leaves to get me a gin and tonic (my drink of choice at the time).

I'm chatting with these guys and my cousin when I realize the hubby has been gone an awfully long time. I look up and see him chatting up these two girls at the bar and I can tell that he is buying them drinks. These girls were NOT a part of our group. We made up half our party and the other half was out on the dance floor.

I quickly turned into a jealous fucking Xanthippe, my alter ego. I turn to the guys and my cousin and get belligerent.

"Who the FUCK is he talking to?"

"Is he buying those bitches drinks?"

The guys start trying to talk me down with compliments, but I am kinda psycho when it comes to the hubby. I reach down for my heel...

"I'm going to stab him in the neck!"

The guys are a little startled, but continue to try and calm me down with a combination of flattery and rationalizations. It isn't really working the heel is in my hand but still close to the ground.

Then he (the hubby) turns toward us walking back to were we are sitting. With my drink in his hand, AND these two girls. My blood was boiling. I picture myself pouncing on him like a vampire.

Then I notice these girls are my hubby's good friends, one is his ex room mate and I happen to really like these girls, we invited them to come to the club that night. We always invite them, they never come (they don't live in town), but this night they did. I calm down immediately. I feel foolish, and about two inches tall. I slip my heel back onto my bare foot. I tell the now anxious guys about my mistake. They kind of laugh it off. Kinda. They keep it to themselves, out of fear, I guess.

The rest of the night goes great. I do fess up to the hubby. The next day.

Wanna Be

 Today as we celebrate the 4th of July, we here at Theme Thursday take a break from our regular topics to give you a chance to read something you may have missed we think worthy of your time. We invite you to click the button and find other treasures or to link your own. ENJOY :)

Years ago, Nike came out with Nike+.

An amazing system that connected a chip in your shoe, to your music (iPod), to an online GPS linked community. I have never been a fan of Nike, because I disagreed strongly with their manufacturing practices and so never bought a shoe that they made. Like the consumerist hypocrite I am, I quickly turned a blind eye to what I didn't like because I wanted this so bad.

That Christmas, my hubby bought me a pair of Nike+ shoes, the Nike+ chip and an i Pod Nano (I and the hubby also dislike apple and at the time used our awesome Creative Zen mp3 players). He spent a lot to hook me up with some outstanding running gear that I was dying to own.

Then, he said this (I'm totally paraphrasing because as mentioned, I have a terrible memory), "I want  to see your wanna-be-runner-ass on the track every morning, cuz I buy you new running shoes every year, because this is the year you're really gonna start running. And it never happens".

The hubby and I have known each other since our junior year in high school, so he has been privy to my desire to be a runner for a long time. This was always my new years resolution.

It was true. I always wanted to be a runner, but I always gave up. It was always something. The killer shin splints, my inability to breath, the fact that seniors were lapping me. I would about die every time I attempted to realize this goal. I literally thought my heart was going to explode in my chest. But him calling me a fucking wanna be, my ego could not take it.

I'm pretty competitive and I just cannot handle this sort of criticism, but what could I say? He was right. I was a wanna be. I always wanted to be, but I never put in the work. I always gave up.

Well not this time. This time I was going to be a runner or die trying.

Every other morning I got up. My brother would join me. We would run a mile. I turned up my Nano so loud that it drowned out my gasps for air. I told myself if I couldn't hear it, it wasn't happening. I would want to stop, but every time I wanted to stop short of that mile, I would say to myself, "Am I going to be a runner or a wanna be?".

Eventually, I was able to run that mile without being certain of my impending death. The Nike+ was an amazing motivator too. It added up my mileage, cheered me on and even congratulated me when I met a new goal.

One day I realized that we were running that mile in 12 minutes instead of 15+. I wasn't out of breath anymore. I came up with a plan we would run 15 minutes every time, my brother agreed. Then when I realized 15 was doable, I told my brother, "let's add 1 minute each week". He said OK.

Before I knew it, we were running two miles. Two miles in 22 minutes. TWO MILES. I would run and think, "who's a wanna be now?"

I'm grateful to my hubby, for always knowing just what to say, to chide me into giving it my all. And for always believing I can do it.

This post is brought to you
by the letter 'W'

Rainbows and Unicorns

 


The hubby shared this with me. I loved it so much I wanted to share with you. If you don't love it too, you might be a a Unicornfucker.

This post was brought to you
by the letter 'U'

Evil

Evil.

This theme has been kicking my ass. I really just didn't know where to begin. I feel like I've been a little heavy lately, and was hoping for something fun.

No such luck.

Dictionary.com where I get all my dictionary needs met, now that my phone is rarely not in my hand, defines Evil like this: (adjective) 1. morally wrong or bad; immoral; wicked: evil deeds; an evil life. Or (noun) 7. the force in nature that governs and gives rise to wickedness and sin.

The first definition, is going a little easy I think. Like evil light. I guess it is accurate.

When I was in my late teens/early twenties, I used that word a lot. In stories. Stories about my life, people I met, things I did. That were bad, wicked or immoral.

I can see how people that think it is morally wrong, bad or wicked to breastfeed in public could say it's evil. Where I see a woman nurturing her child, something natural and beautiful. They see titties, it's vulgar. Evil.

As an adult. I see evil as a noun. Why does it happen? The hubby says, because man is inherently evil. I used to hate when he said this. I think people are inherently good, and it is life that sows the seeds of evil.

Does it exist? Most definitely. Just turn on the news, any fucking day of the week. Kidnap victims, gun men, teachers that molest children, people all over the world starving, bombings, rapes, schools that are failing, I could literally go on and on. But I just don't want to. I don't want to think about it. I don't want to know about it. I want to wish it away. I want to protect Animal from it. Does it exist because I, we, don't stand up and stop it. Does it exist because the hubby is right (again) and man is just evil.

Maybe.

This post to you is brought
to you by the letter 'T'

Have your own thoughts on evil? Or just want to read ours? Click the TT button!

Well Rested Mama

This post is brought to you
by the letter 'R'

Rested. 

Some mornings I am, but WELL rested...

I think since having Animal, I have been well rested a handful of times. Sometimes (more often than I would like to admit) it's my fault. 

He's been sleeping through the night for almost eleven months, and I stopped getting up to pump nine months ago. The thing is, if I want to have time to write. Time to catch up on all the trash and sitcoms I love to watch. Time to hang out with the hubby, just us. Time to get chores done, uninterrupted. I have to stay up past my bedtime. Before I became a mommy I would go to bed about 9, sometimes 8:30. Now I go to bed between 10-11. 

If I want to have time to run. Time to eat breakfast. Time to have a tasty, HOT cup of coffee. Time to shower, time to pee without interruptions. Time to make and pack lunches. I have to get up by 6, 5 on my running days.

You know what, I don't even always care. Sure it means I have to drink a cup of coffee if I don't want to stumble through my day like a *retard, but being constantly sleep deprived (at this point, with newborn life still fresh in my mind) seems well worth it.

I can't afford to go to Starbucks everyday, but I also can't handle instant. The price is right, but the taste is less than ideal. I can do the Nescafe if I have some flavorful creamers. The problem with that is I just added like 200 calories, and 5 grams of fat. That is just not cool. NOT COOL.

So, I'm gonna share my secret to faking a well rested morning. 

First, work out if possible. No joke, the least awesome part of my day is waking up to a fucking alarm clock. Often though, the best part of my day is my run, and the burst of energy it provides.

Second, come home and warm up 1 cup of fat free milk and 6 oz of water.  While that's warming up, in a stainless steel tumbler add 1 package of Via, currently I'm rocking the blonde because it seems to pack less of a caffeine punch and so I can still get a good nights sleep. Add 1 pack of splenda or a tablespoon brown sugar. Lastly, poor hot milk/water into your travel mug. Seal and enjoy. The milk is a very important component to this beverage. It not only adds a richness that makes you feel like you're treating yourself, but for a mere 90 calories your adding 9 grams of protein, calcium and vitamin D. 

The tumbler is key for us mommies for two reasons. First it enables you to finish your cup hot without the need to zap in microwave 10 times, until finally, defeated you throw half the cup down the sink so that you can get to those pesky dishes that have been waiting all morning to be washed. Second, you don't have to worry about a mischievous child, spilling, breaking, tasting, or worse burning themselves on a hot cup of Joe left unattended to handle some other pressing matter.

Lastly, use some Erase Paste by BeneFit.

Follow these tips and you will look well rested and perky. You're welcome.

*This post is part of ABC's of Swearing Challenge and I'm sorry if I offended anyone with the use of the word retard, but rimjob was the only other bad word I could think of, and I just couldn't think of a way to include rimjob into this post. Also, yesterday I used queerdo, which I was equally conflicted about. This challenge has truly challenged me, but has been a lot of fun and I hope you are enjoying as much as I am.