Update and cleft strong

I'm back!

First I guess I'll give a brief update on my grandfather. He made a miraculous recovery. And I do mean miraculous. As in, we were picking out what to put in the obituary and what to wear to the funeral and the next day he's requesting pudding. We were initially very cautious, we are aware of something called "the surge" before death and thought surely that's what it was. But three days of sitting up talking and sugars being about normal, they've discharged him. Yep. He's home now.

Wyatt starts his first full year of preschool tomorrow, three days a week for two and a half hours. He went a few times at the end of the year last year and since he got his new peppa pig back pack he is super excited.

As far as my healthy living and dieting is going? I practically ate myself into a food coma this past week. But, I'm feeling much better now. Mentally that is. Physically I'm a jag-off for wasting the past three weeks pretty much. I feel better now though and I'm ready to get rolling...again. I mean, the past few weeks I'd done okay eating, but not a whole lot of working out other than my horrible dance parties with myself while I try to clean.

My sister just bought the kids a mini trampoline, because I don't really have enough shit laying around my house already, but I like to jump on it a few times every time I walk past it and I was looking into some rebounding exercises today. I love new toys.


I'd actually like to share something else I'm working on though. Non-weight related.
My eldest son was born with a cleft lip, and I recently took to the web and designed a shirt for cleft awareness. his cleft lip was actually a really big part of my life. I know it's not like it's fatal, or really horrible or anything like that, but it's still a big part of ME. I don't even think it will be a big deal to him growing up, but it played a huge role in shaping my life. I'm feeling kind of lazy, so I'm just going to copy and paste exactly what I did on my facebook. I'm selling these shirts, not for profit, I guess not really even selling then, I'm ordering them for my family and friends who are interested. And this is what I had to say whenever I shared the design.

"I had had a few people interested when I posted about getting cleft shirts made up. For those of you who were interested this will be the design (99% sure anyway...I keep playing with it still lol).

Now I'm sure the first thing you've noticed is "But isn't that a breast cancer ribbon?" No. Cleft awareness ribbons were granted "hot pink" as their color, breast cancer was to be "pale pink." Breast cancer has sort of taken over the entire pink spectrum because of how many it affects and how catastrophic the illness can be. Hot pink is however still supposed to represent clefts, while that rarely happens, that is the reasoning behind the color choice and the ribbon to this shirt. This is a great opportunity to educate others when they ask you the same question when you're wearing this shirt (;

The front would be the Cleft strong, and the back would be the "let your smile change the world" cleft smiles are often referred to as 'wide smiles.'

As far as pricing goes. I won't know the actual price until I know how many are ordered. The way the website works is that the price per shirt goes down depending on the quantity ordered. Just to be clear, I am NOT making a profit from these shirts. At all. I will ask you to pay the same price the website charges me, and I will post pictures of the final quote when I make the order just for verification. I'm doing this because I decided I wanted these shirts for ME, but then realized it could be a nice opportunity to spread awareness. I will not order your shirt without payment first, preferably in full. I'm not trying to buy a bunch of shirts with my money and have a lot of people change their minds after I've already paid and then I'm screwed.

I will leave this up for probably a week or so to give everyone who wants a chance to order. You can comment, message, or text  me sizes you want. Feel free to share this status or ask others around too. 

Oral clefts are one of the most common birth defects in the country, affecting around 1 in every 1000 children born. Cleft lips are more common in boys, cleft lips and palates are more common in girls. Although it is often hereditary, or caused by environmental factors such as prescription medicines, they can also be spontaneous as well (as was Wyatt's case.) Although it is one of the most common birth defects it's also still widely believed that it is a rarity in our country in healthy pregnancies with no family history. Many had told me they only thought it happened very often in third world countries.
I realize a cleft isn't a life threatening illness, it does not require immediate surgery to sustain life, it does not even affect the general health of the affected child. Many believe after its "fixed" it's not really a big deal. So I'm going to do something I've never really fully done here. I'm going to share my story. The important part is already above, so whether or not you choose to read further is at your digression. But this is our story, and why I believe our family is cleft strong. This is a story my family is family with, and I have discussed to an extent with certain friends. But I believe now I will share the whole thing.

When you get pregnant it's supposed to be an exciting time. My people, especially not 17 year olds, ever really consider the possibility that something could be WRONG with their baby. There's this beautiful bliss cloud that floats around your head that says "That would never happen to me. I'm healthy." My fears in my pregnancy were "how will I support this child?" "What if I have a miscarriage or a stillborn?" The extent of my worries were focused around how terrible child birth would be, would I have a boy or a girl, and oh my gosh what color should we paint the room?

The ultrasound where they saw Wyatt's cleft was a happy one. He was so flexible in there he was sucking on his toes! They revealed that he was a boy, something I had secretly wished for, my boyfriend, mother and I were all just so tickled to see my perfect son. It was some time in the following week that I got a message on my phone from a midwife about the ultrasound "something they saw." Naturally, I panicked, I remember specifically my phone wasn't working right. I kept trying to call her back and it kept hanging up, as a naturally anxious person to begin with I thought the world was ending. I remember thinking "it's his heart, it's his heart" because my own mother had had a heart murmur. When the sweet old midwfie explained it was a cleft lip and what a cleft lip was I remember saying "okay?" and waiting for more. Why was this such a big deal, why had she scared me to death like that? What's WRONG with her? I think it took me approximately four hours to really let the cleft sink in. But it wasn't his heart.

I told only a small select few people about his cleft. No matter how anyone reacted their reaction didn't seem to satisfy me. If they were horrified I was offended, if they carried on like I'd said the weather was calling for rain, I was furious. No one seemed to understand. Despite the fact that I had told so few, that still didn't stop others from finding out. I'll never forget someone I hardly ever talked to stopping me in the hallway to say "she'd heard" she was "sorry" how "you never here about that around here" and how she would "MAKE the doctors fix it." Like no, I thought I'd just leave it like that? That was the first day I let myself cry like a baby in front of my boyfriend. 

As if it wasn't bad enough I was the pregnant 17 year old, now I was the pregnant 17 year old with something wrong with her kid. Ironically, our school was having a cookie sale to raise funds for a little boy to get a cleft repaired. I was mortified. Everyone knew my baby was going to be "messed up" like the little boy in the pictures on the posters for the sale.

The extent of my depression in my pregnancy is something almost no one really knew. I was bitchy, but still, I never talked about being scared for my son, I talked about being scared for labor, or how bad my back hurt. I was terrified and confused. Your entire purpose in life when you have a child is to keep that child safe, here I was, not even having given birth yet and I had already failed. I couldn't protect him, or keep him safe, I couldn't even create him without screwing up. 

I was scared I wouldn't be able to love him. When babies are born and parents have that "ah ha" moment as they count all of his little fingers and toes and wail through tears of happiness "hes perfect!" I would never have that moment. I would never get my "ah ha" moment. I wouldn't cry "he's perfect" I would simply have to state "he's here" and inquire as to whether the extent of his deformity was isolated to only his lip or if the palate was affected as well. I thought I would never want to take his picture or to take him in public. I thought I was be embarrassed with him, I worried I couldn't love him enough.

Can you imagine? Being only halfway through your pregnancy. Just now finding out it was a boy, for another 4 months I would have to pretend to be excited, pretend to be interested as we picked out cribs, and bedding and names. I had to pretend that I was excited to meet my precious prince or everyone would think I was a horrible person. I loved my son, don't get me wrong. I have never not loved my son. But I wanted to think he was perfect, to love him more. And these were things I felt I wouldn't be able to do. Which made me feel GUILTY. Guilt, on top of crippling depression? My pregnancy was worse than my post partum depression, even now I recognize that my pregnancy was one of the most depressing times of my life. I always felt sad, depressed, embarrassed, or even bitter.

I gave up caffeine, I walked all the time, I took care of myself, made sure to eat, to take my vitamins, I did EVERYTHING right. And yet MY baby was the one with the deformity. It seemed unfair. I looked at other babies and stared at the perfect lips, I would be a better parent, I was a better person than so many of these moms and still...THEY had perfect babies. And after I would think this, I

 would again go back to the horribly feeling of guilt again.

May 25th 2011 I went in for a scheduled induction at already 5cm dialated and 90% effaced. I had a pretty easy labor, filled with playing 'scoops' on my phone and complaining insessively about my IV hurting. On May 26th Wyatt Michael Patterson was born, weighing in at a perfect 6 lbs 12.5 ounces and 20 inches long. I had my ah ha moment.

That perfect moment where the world seems to slow down and you aren't aware of anything or anyone else in the world. Not the doctor pushing on your stomach or the snot running down your face. I wasn't looking at Wyatt and looking at his cleft, I was looking at his huge dark eyes just staring at me. Completely aware, as they left him lay on my stomach and it struck me. I wanted to touched him. Almost as if to make sure he was really there. And I'll never forget the rest of my entire life my first words to Wyatt, even though I had my 'ah ha' moment I didn't shout he's perfect, I didn't sigh, I didn't gasp he's here..I touched him, and he was slimy and gooey, and the first thing Wyatt ever heard from my mouth was "he's so gross!" It wasn't that I actually thought he was gross. It wasn't that I expected anything less than that after given birth, it's just...the cold hard truth. He was gross. Gross and perfect. 

And he was here.

I took more pictures than my phone could even hold just in those five months I was blessed to see his cleft each morning. He gave his cleft a big EFF YOU and nursed like a champ despite it. While I never heard Wyatt coo, or babble, I did get to watch him fit BOTH of his fists in his mouth, I did get to marvel at his not getting a single ear infection (as we were warned cleft babies usually have to get tubes in their ears from), I got to watch a smile that took up his entire face. I loved Wyatt's cleft. I gave his cleft kisses, I mused how he made friends EVERY WHERE he went, no grandma left untouched by his beauty. I didn't mind when anyone stared at him because I stared at him all the time too. Little kids were the only ones to ask "what's wrong with him?" or "what happened to his face?" and I didn't mind that either. We took pride in educating them, though as soon as we would start to explain their eyes usually dulled with boredom. 

I will say it again. I loved Wyatt's cleft. I was not only nervous for his surgery, but I also mourned the loss of his perfect face, the face God shaped with his own hands to make wonderful just for me. Because he knew, even before I did, that I was a mom who would love him, show him off, have my ah ha moment. He knew I could handle this, and he knew that Wyatt could too. God doesn't make mistakes, he sculpted Wyatt's wonderful face with the utmost certainty that it was perfect.

And then the time came. The time to 'fix' or 'repair' his cleft. I don't like either term, because I didn't see it as something broken or damaged. I didn't want to have his lip done. I didn't want to put him under, and I didn't want to change him. As someone who has anxiety 98% of the time, I remember while Wyatt was back in surgery for a number of hours that I honestly don't recall exactly how many, I felt completely numb. I felt like I should be freaking out, or hysterical, but I felt just empty. 

I would of course cry like a big baby again when I saw him. And I remember again, my first thought being unconventional. "He looks like a monkey." My first thought when I saw my son post surgery was that he looked like a monkey. Something else I would lie about of course and tell everyone he looked great. I carried him crying the entire way to our room where we would stay for the next three days. 

I remember crying as I held him, with my mother and grandma wiping their eyes behind me, as our nurse joked about how a lot of moms insist "that's not my baby" after their cleft surgery or are just 'crazy' and wanting to hit her. I remember it took about 70 washes to finally get the blood out of my neon green shirt I'd bought at Michaels. I remember them not letting us leave until he pooped and one of the only things that would make him happy was to walk around the halls and pull him in the wagon. I remember it being so hard because I had been breast feeding and cosleeping and could do neither now and I remember asking politely for him to be put back on the strong painkillers twice before snapping at the nurses and demanding it NOW while fighting back my own helpless tears. But more than anything from the entire experience I remember the next day.

 He smiled.

It was a sort of unsure smile, it seemed tight, probably felt wrong to him, but I'll never in my entire life forget it. His second, first smile. The following weeks with the arm restraints and the tape over his lip were not a whole lot of fun. I liked to draw mustaches on the tape before I would put it on him and that made me a little bit happier. I remember it wasn't as hard as we thought it would be, I had taken off I think two weeks from work to be with him and he seemed up to spirits far before I had to go back. I was glad to be with him though. 

We were again blessed beyond our expectations when his teeth came in, he has a notch in his gums and were were expecting a lot of dental problems but the teeth even came through where his notch was. He teeth were late, especially late on the side of his cleft, but they were healthy and boy does he like brushing them. He started talking well after his second birthday and hasn't stopped since. I don't believe Wyatt's cleft defines him. His lip is beautiful, even with out the little indent under the nose that I gazed longingly at while I was pregnant. His cleft lip is not the biggest part of who he is, his big kisses, his 'lovins' and how much he loves being 'a nice big brother' the way he plays pirate and his obsession with peppa pig, that is who Wyatt is. But his cleft? That is a very large part of who I am. It is an experience that humbled me, something that I believe made me grow up a lot, something that I believe not only made me appreciate Wyatt but also bonded me much closer to him. I got so many more bragging rights about how strong and amazing Wyatt is from this, and instead of continuing to cry about it after it was all over and done I decided that I was blessed. Blessed to appreciate the little milestones other parents might not, like the first time he was able to blow raspberries, or his ear infections (a lot of other parents might only think about it if they DID get them), I was blessed with two beautiful faces, and two first smiles, and that's something only a select few are blessed with. The experience made us all a little braver, and a little stronger, and maybe I annoy everyone with posting every year on the anniversary of his surgery (november 9th!) but it is one of the biggest days of the year to me. Even more so than my own birthday, it's a big part of who I am and I still miss his cleft. 

Don't think just because the cleft is repaired the struggle is over. Naturally, a cleft smile doesn't like the same as that as someone who was born cleft free. They used to call it a "hare lip" because, like a hare there is the separation of the lips. It's not so much a term used anymore, but still. The medical world has had so many more advanced, cleft repairs are looking better and better as the years go on, but you are still seeing a scar, a 'tight' looking smile, often times the lips actually are different, one side usually pulls up a little. Those with clefts may have dental problems, speech problems, self confidence issues. Those born with a cleft palate are looking at multiple surgeries throughout their entire life. Even with just the lip, often times they go back in to reshape the nose, to trim the scar tissue in the lip, in Wyatt's case the notch in his gum there is a question of whether or not we will want to put him but under for that as well. Once you have a cleft in the family you are also at an increased risk for another cleft baby. Meaning not only was Sawyer at a higher risk, but when Wyatt and Sawyer have children they will pass the gene onto their kids, and their kids to theirs, and so on and so forth. I was at peace with it when I was pregnant with Sawyer, honestly, because it had made me stronger, it had made me more aware, I wasn't naive enough to think "nothing would happen to my kids" I had a better idea of what we were getting into and I wasn't scared. The whole ultrasound with our high risk doctor and I was admittedly hopeful he would be cleft free I just kept thinking in my head of that first smile after Wyatt's surgery and how I knew we could get through anything. Wyatt's cleft will forever be in our family now, and it will always be a very big part of who I am. Not in a bad way really though. I consider our family cleft strong."

Family emergency and a blogger break...

Will probably be MIA or at least short in the coming days.

Grandfather is having a lot of medical problems. I mean, he has been for a long time, he's been in and out of the hospital literally dozens of times this year for sugar problems but it's different this time.

I weighed myself today instead of tomorrow because I'll be In the hospital tomorrow. 174.0 so I've essentially maintained the last two weeks but I haven't really tried much either...right now all I want to do is drink booze and eat. A combination that would surely make me barf. So I wont. I'll have to choose one or the other.

But last night his sugar was really high. It read "high" the machines don't go over 700, your sugar should run between 120-180, but normal for him is around 200. He has been on hospice care for about a week and a half, the hospice nurses are supposed to make him as comfortable as they can at home rather than ending their life in a hospital. His doctor told the hospice nurse he wanted them to take him to the ER, the hospice nurse said her job was to keep him OUT of the hospital and she would have to talk to her supervisor first. Because of his high sugar, which ended up being 1001, he had a heart attack. Now I'm stuck with the "what if" they would have taken him to the hospital right away and not pussy footed around.

But now he's in icu. He's had a heart attack. His kidneys are shutting down. I didn't get to see him today but his knees were apparently turning purple/blue from lack of oxygen.

He thought he was fishing a lot. He used to fish in all of his free time. He used to take us fishing all the time. He thought he was fishing and he talked of seeing angels. I'm honestly really surprised he made it through the night.

Grandma said he looked really peaceful. He was sleeping and she said practically all of his wrinkles are gone. She think he's at peace and he's going tonight. Hopefully in his sleep if he does goes.

But anyway I'm probably not going to be very concerned with blogging for the next few days, I have no plans on working out, I don't have plans of doing much of anything at all.

I feel like shit. Because he's been in the hospital so many times it always doesn't even scare us anymore. Like before when he first starting going downhill he'd have maybe two hospital trips a year and everyone ran around like a chicken with their head cut off. Now it's just part of the daily...it's scary being around him sometimes.

Less than two years ago I had five grandparents, and before the week is over (a generous estimation) I will probably be down to one. I don't handle death well, I mean, I don't think anyone really does.

I go to my mom's every sunday, my grandparents live two doors down from my mom, we lived with my grandparents for the first nine years of my life, I take the kids down to visit every sunday. Wyatt loves his pap pap. Death blows and my anxiety makes me seriously disgruntled over doctors and hospitals.

I was supposed to be taking the kids to a birthday party tomorrow but now I'm dropping them off at dad's and spending the whole day in the icu.

Skinny shaming and fat bashing

Skinny shaming and fat bashing.

Let's just get one thing straight, both of those are fudged up, knock that shit off. You ladies especially!

When you see someone horribly over weight you immediately think they're gross. You don't consider the possibility that they have a medical condition that prevents them from losing weight, maybe they were recently in an accident and bed ridden for some time, or possibly that they've already lost a great deal of weight? Or how about the fact that maybe they're just the nicest person you'll ever meet. The person you're mocking might volunteer with seniors, they might donate oodles of money, maybe they foster children from bad lives.

But all you see is someone who is fat. Someone who because they are fat must be unhealthy? If they are over weight they must just have no self control.

I have sat and watched someone chow down on a bag of doritos while exclaiming how fat people don't take care of their bodies. I've watched someone add m&ms and peanut butter to an entire box of mac and cheese and eat it (don't even get me started on how gross that is!) And later in life talk about how over weight individuals have "no self control." I've heard that working out is so great why don't fat people just do it?

And then I've also heard the snickering as someone heavier jogs around the block. I've watched someone over weight buy a diet soda and heard the comment "if she wanted a diet she should have skipped the big mac!"

It's seriously disturbing that a heavy set woman in a bathing suit is referred to a whale sighting! If you put on a "fatkini" you are being disrespectful because "no one wants to see that."

People who fat bash are usually people who think they are the bees knees, usually who think they'll never get fat, or really insecure people.


And then there is skinny shaming.

Far less talked about, but just as bad. There are some who try desperately to gain weight. Some who really just cant. There are medical conditions that cause people to be underweight too.

My cousin for example. His throat was too small to ear a lot of foods. He thought he had allergies to practically everything because it felt like his throat closed up when he ate, especially meats. Come to find out (almost in his 30s) that his throat was just really narrow! They stretched it out and he put on a good deal of weight in a small chunk of time because for God's sake he could actually EAT!

Calling someone a "skinny bitch" or telling them to "eat a sandwich" is just as immature as calling someone a whale and suggesting they order a salad. It's rude, and it hurts.

There are a lot of people who are skinny and like their body, there are a lot of people who are fit and work hard for their body, and then there are people who get to hear all the time how boys like something to grab onto, how stick figures are disgusting, how curvy girls are best.

People who skinny shame are usually bigger people who are jealous and insecure of their own weight. Sometimes these people are even people who were fat bashers forty pounds ago.


Here's the thing. I don't care if you're skinny, curvy, fat, or fucking shaped like a square. You are a person first. Your weight? It's just a number that pops up on a scale. It. Does. Not. Define. You. Confidence is beautiful, putting others down is ugly. I think healthy is sexy. Does that sound condescending? No because there are plus sized people with more endurance in their pinky fucking toe than I have in my whole body. There are plus sized models who work out daily, dancers who shake their size 11 asses off, and a man pushing 300 pounds in his 60s with a heart as strong as a 20 year olds. That shit is sexy to me. Healthy is sexy.

Quit being a judgemental, inconsider, jealous, or just down right rude person. Next time you are judging someone I dare you to just say hello to them. Introduce yourself, shake their hand maybe, if for one second you can take a walk in their shoes, and THEN form an opinion of them.

Nobody wins when everyone's losing.

ALS ice bucket challenge

I typically make it a point to not follow trends. I've never had a man crush monday or throw back thursday, I don't post "truth is" statuses or do a whole lot to garter towards the typical social scene, a lot of times I think the social scenes are stupid.

This is different.

I was nominated to do the ALS ice bucket challenge, as I'm sure many others have been. This is a "trend" I happily accepted.

No, it's not that I was particularly excited to throw freezing cold water on my head. Though, just throwing it out there, you do burn more calories when you're in the cold because your body has to work harder to keep it's regular temperature up, so uh, I probably burned a few extra calories this way.

But anyway, if you're unfamiliar with amoyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS), also known as Lou Gehrigs disease, it is a disease which affects nerve cells in the brain and spinal cord. It is fatal. It is progressive, as the disease progresses those suffering from it will eventually become paralyzed, losing even the ability to talk or breathe on their own.

Here is my ALS ice bucket challenge.

Now I've seen a lot of people complaining about the ice bucket challenge, if you're one of those people who think it is stupid, well this one is for you.

Since July 29th over 40 million has been raised for ALS research. This is a horribly underfunded cause, last year in the same span of time they had raised only around 2 million, they had only raise 19.4 million in an entire year last year! There have been over 760,000 new donors in just these past few weeks.

The ice bucket challenge is about more than just raising money though. It is about awareness. And let me tell ya, you would have had to have your head stuck in the sand for quite a while to be missing this one. Before this challenge even started a lot of people didn't even know what ALS was! Myself included, I had heard of Lou Gehrig's disease before, but like so many others my focus was on breast cancer, autism, and causes like the march of dimes. Don't get me wrong, these are all charities we should be funding, if you catch wind of a MS walk or gay rights parade by all means, march away. These are the things everyone knows about though. ALS is something terribly horrifying that so many people in our world are oblivious to! The ALS ice bucket challenge has for the first time since 1939 that the disease has really been front and center in our faces.

I've seen a few post about how "if you feel so bad for people with ALS why not do something about it!" I've seen "It's so sad that so many people would rather dump water on their head than donate to ALS" I even saw "For all you people posting how awesome you are on a social website for dumping water on your head and how much you actually care about ALS me and my boyfriend actually care about the people with ALS and are making cards for them!" First off, we are doing something about it! We're raising awareness! Second off, just because we dumped doesn't mean we didn't donate. I'll admit I didn't donate the full $100, but I'm barely scraping by as it is with two kids a minimum wage job and zero financial help from dad, most of the people who dump also donate. The average ALS donation is ranging around $46, so if that's the average and they've made 40 million, obviously every dollar counts. And third off, to the couple who is so much better than everyone else for not publicly doing something for attention, your nasty post and bragging about what you're doing is no better than are dumping...actually, it's just about the same...AND IT'S STILL A GOOD THING!

I've seen quite a few videos featuring someone who knows or even has ALS, but this particular one here is one that made me the most emotional. It's a very powerful video, and it really is something everyone who hates the ALS ice bucket challenge should watch.

Here are some facts about ALS, some of them might even surprise you.

• 30,000 Americans currently have the disease.
• Is usually diagnosed between 40-70 years of age but can start much later.
• The 29 year old who started the trend was diagnosed in 2012
• Men are 20% more likely to be affected
• 93% of people diagnosed are white
• Military veterans are one of the most affected group.
• Only about 10% of cases are hereditary. 
• Most live only 2-5 years to live
• Most ALS deaths are from respiratory distress.
• There is no known cure for ALS
• Lou Gehrig lived only two years after being diagnosed

And now, just for grins and giggles here is my post-icebucketchallenge selfie, a picture of my battle wounds (ice cut me!) And just because a photo grid with only two pictures is lame here's one of my best friend after she accepted my nomination.

Now I challenge YOU.

Name change

Alright I caved and I changed my blog around.

No more adorable cacti in the background, no meaningless name. I sort of liked having a meaningless name for my blog. I felt like it sparked interest...but I caved.

Now this is a title I actually used once before on another blog. A blog I had started when I decided I wanted to lose weight and only lose weight. My journey now is about so much more than just losing weight. It's about becoming healthier, about being fit rather than skinny.

This isn't a blog about my diet this is a blog about my life and the choices I make in it that make me healthy!

I feel like this title, an old title, will draw more attention. This blog is something I do for me, but I would be lying if I said I didn't want to share it with others. You only get one body and one life to live, shouldn't we make the best of it while it lasts? So if I can reach others, encourage others to choose to be healthy, meet new people who will support and encourage me, teach and also learn from me, well, I'd like to make the most that I can from this blog.


I'm still me.

Weekly weigh in & the cost of two oreos.

I know, I know, I'm late for my weekly weigh in again this week!

Last Sunday I weighed in at 174.4 pounds, this week I weighed 174.6. So I gained .2 pounds. But that's okay. My aunt and uncle came up to visit, let me rephrase that my favorite aunt and uncle came up to visit and we were in a hurry and grabbed some Mc Donalds, so there's about 900 calories in one meal there. No regrets. Wasn't as active as I could have been this week. Really let the whole Travis situation take a toll on me. 

That's a stupid excuse, and I hate stupid excuses. But I laid around and moped a lot, to be honest, I'm just proud I didn't finish off the tub of ice cream in my basement!

But 174.6 still has me down 16.4 pounds so I'm still pretty please. Maintaining is better than gaining. No, I'm not really going to hold that .2 pounds against myself. I'm just going to have to do better this week.

Definitely going to have to work out more this week! Don't want to lose my killer guns. 

Anyway. Today I was thinking. We bought a packet of cookie dough oreos, they sounded just too delicious to refuse. And while they really weren't that good, it got me thinking,. So many people struggle with late night cravings, rather than binge out, would it be so bad to treat themselves to an oreo every night?

There are 160 calories and 7g of fat per three oreos. We are going to look at eating two every night. Two because it's only proper oreo edicate to take them apart and put them together to make them double stuffed. So for two oreo cookies you are looking at 106.7 calories and 4.7 grams of fat. Not too, too terrible right?

But lets say you eat these two oreos every night. In one week you're up to about 744.8 calories and 32.9 grams of fat. You would have to eat just about two and a half cheese burgers from McDonalds to reach the same amount of calories.

Let's say you eat these two oreos every night for say a whole month. August has 31 days so for August you would be eating 3,307.7 calories and 145.7 grams of fat. That's over six big macs!

But lets say you find these two oreos as your treat to so much hard work, your only bliss, and you decide to eat these two oreos every single night, just two, for an entire year. You have just eaten 38,945 calories and 1,715.5 grams of fat.

Estimating that one pounds is approximately 3,500 calories, your two oreos a night have just cost you just over ELEVEN pounds in one year. 

And that's just for the regular oreos, double stuffed, cookie dough flavored, pumpkin spice, they would of course amount to different numbers. 

Don't think I'm knocking oreos, they just happened to be the food of choice right now. Maybe your late night treat or early morning treat is a candy bar, or a mountain dew, etc. The point being that these things really sneak up on you, which is why it's important to choose your foods wisely. I'm all for treating yourself, just do so with awareness and try to balance it out with your workouts and what else you eat each day to still maintain your calorie and fat balance for each day.

Does this count as a "detox" ?

At the rate I'm going I might actually hit my 20 pound mark this Sunday. Please excuse my tmi but I have been on the toilet since 2:30 this morning!

Well, I mean I haven't been on the toilet since then the entire time. But I woke up at 2:30 and made a mad dash for it and have been back and forth ever since. Currently at work, and it's been almost two hours since I last hit the rest room, so maybe my stomach and bowels are finally empty. I know, I know, I shouldn't go to work when I'm sick. But there's only two people who can do my job, we switched every other weekend and I knew there was no way she was going to be awake early enough to make it in on time. Plus I'm paid hourly and really can't afford to take the day off lol. I came in today figuring worst case scenario I hold out until later in the day when she's awake and then I go home if I have to.

So I came into and found in our desk she left her cell phone. So no way to get in touch with her even if I do want to go home lol. But I am feeling better. The likelihood that I am going on a date, or working out tonight, is pretty slim to none. This is probably deserved, I had half a bottle of Mountain Dew yesterday, after I said how I don't like it that much but then I had one anyway. I made a homemade pizza last night and I always have soda with my pizza. It's like, not even an option. So I drank one and now I'm deathly ill and infecting everyone around me with my death juices. Shit happens.

Maybe I can consider this some sort of detox or something. Don't people do crazy detox teas and shit like that that just clear them out for day? Sure. I'm not sick. I'm "detoxing."


On another note, I'm considering a name change for my blog.

I had started a weight loss blog back in February, and I came up with a title that I sort of liked, but it was short lived. At that time I wanted to lose a ton of weight for a guy I was interested in. Gag. Obviously it ended up with me still being unhealthy and going back to an unhealthy relationship with Travis actually. I think I only made like six posts with that blog. But it got a good deal of views. Weight loss is a pretty hot topic. And since no one can tell that's what my blog is, I miss out on a good deal of views. The fact that my title had nothing to do with weight loss was something that I actually liked...but I'm starting to reconsider. I want to share my journey with as many people I can reach, not, uh, like two people.

So it's something I'm toying with the possibility of doing. A name change, which would obviously come with a layout change as well. But that's the fun part anyway.

Almost there

Still feeling pretty good. My phone is dying, but that doesn't exactly mean I'm in any kind of mental or physical distress. I brought a charger to work but, uh, I guess it doesn't work. I'm not too broken hearted over it though. I'll be home in about three hours so I'll just have to muddle through until then I guess. Woe is me, right?

Today I had two of the office girls tell me they could tell I've lost weight. Such an awesome feeling. I'm getting really antsy. I know I'm doing fine, and it's a slow moving process, and it's about changing your whole life style. I know this is not supposed to be just about my weight, this is about improving my entire life. But man, I'm so close to the 20 pound mark I can practically taste it. Uh, I guess taste shouldn't be what I'm shooting for because too much eating is what got me this problem in the first place, am I right?

But still. Twenty pounds is a pretty big deal. I know the number on the scale doesn't define me...but that doesn't mean I'm not a little more pleased to see a smaller number come up. And in 3.4 pounds I'm buying myself a reward.

It's almost sad how high my weight was when I started. Even worse how it got higher after I decided I would start soon. I was pretty big on "oh when I start my diet I won't be able to have any of this I better eat it ALL right now." And gained myself another 4 pounds that way. Yikes. It's water under the bridge now.

I can't decide if I should cut my hair, or buy new shoes. I like my hair short, but because I always cut it I've been trying to let it grow. Plus, if I do cut it I won't be able to pull it up anymore and that would be a problem. I just really like it shorter...


I really have my fingers crossed that on Sunday I can get to the big two-oh mark. But that would mean losing over three pounds in one week, and I did have ice cream for dinner once lol. So I'm more realistically excited to see it the following Sunday.

It's become way less of a struggle too. Whereas before it was hard to keep myself on track, now it's more second nature. They say 28 days forms a habit. I've had some hiccups but I've been trying to live healthier for longer than that so I guess I got it down now!


I kind of wish I had a work out buddy, but it's hard because most of my good friends have kids as well, work, go to school, we're all grown ups and we have all these grown up obligations and responsibilities, it's difficult to work around all of our schedules to see each other too often. You can bet when we do get together we go for walks or play DDR or something or other.

I feel great!

I'm feeling great.

Oodles of Travis drama but I think he's finally going to leave me alone now! So that's a plus. Also I may have my first date in uh, forever on Saturday. The last date I went on was obviously with Travis, I don't know if it really counts as a date or not though since I had a gift card...but even that was almost two years ago! We'll see how it goes because it all depends on whether or not Travis sticks true to his "I'm taking the kids this Saturday" word or not. If he takes them I'm going to need to go out! This would be their first over night away and I'm going to be such a basket case, staying home by myself is definitely not an option. If he doesn't take them no worries, we'll just get a few friends together and play cards at my house! Either way, I'm pretty stoked. Even if nothing comes out of it, I think it's exactly what I need to get me out of this Travis funk I've been in for the last, uh, six years.

But anyway. Today I just happened to look at myself in the mirror. I wasn't intentionally checking myself out, I had just gotten a shower, I wasn't investigating my weight loss progress I just looked and I was pleased. I mean, I'm not going to say I look amazing. I'm not going to say I'm ready to be a nude model or something crazy like that, I'm not even going to say I'm near being skinny, but I could see obvious progress. I'm still wide all over, and in a picture my friend took of me yesterday I realized I have huge legs! Before I was really just looking at my fat stomach. Though when I started this I did take measurements of my thighs, as well as other parts. But yeah, looking at myself in the mirror I feel like now instead of looking like I'm still sporting a baby bump or worse a beer belly, now I just have a little kangaroo pouch.

Pants that didn't fit me before fit me now. A shirt that a few months ago fit me very well is now loose on me. It honestly makes me so excited. It motivates me a lot too. And it also even bums me out. I haven't made that huge of a lifestyle change. If I want a soda bad enough I'll still get one, though usually a can or small bottle rather than regular or large, I don't eat candy anymore, and mainly I just don't snack. I usually eat around the same amount for lunch or dinner, it's just all the picking that I've stopped doing. I feel like as long as it's taken me to start this, I could already be to my goal weight if I would have started when I first wanted to. Or even better, if I hadn't let myself go in the first place!

Today I was eating pancakes with the kids and recalled how when I was younger I would eat syrup. Just syrup. It's no wonder I grew up to have weight problems, it's actually lucky I didn't get them a long time ago!

And while I haven't been working out as ferociously as I was when I started all of this, I realize now so many ways that I can adapt it into my every day life. Even if I don't actually work out every day I still do a lot more moving. I have myself a nice little dance party every day. Usually when I'm getting ready for work and cleaning. I'm not going to go as far as to say I'm a good dancer, but uh, I get down with it. What might take me twenty minutes to clean up as a normal human being will probably take me an hour to do with music. I mean sure, it might seem silly, but when the song turns dramatic how could you not drop what you're doing, jump on the couch, do a few Elvis-like hip thrusts to the beat and then jump around? My cleaning includes hip thrusts, jumping, spinning, rolling around the ground, high kicks, you name it. I'm usually ready for a nap by the time I'm finished. One of my biggest irrational fears is that someone has a camera hidden in my house and watches all of this.

Yesterday the baby had a doctors appointment, after the appointment we went for a nice long walk for over an hour. It was nice. Come dinner time I was so sick and disgusted with Travis that I couldn't even eat. I did however make an exception whenever my friend brought me ice cream. So she, her daughter, my two boys, and myself all sat and ate ice cream right out of the tub on my couch last night. No regrets. I never regret ice cream.

I don't know why I even bother letting Travis get to me. I don't even like him or want to be with him, after talking to me his new girlfriend/toy/whatever left him as well. I guess all his lying and cheating caught up, because now she and I have new friends, I still have a date, and he's the one lonely and sad. I've got to give this girl props though. I stayed with him when he lied and cheated on me. I presented her with proof that he had been talking to and hanging out with several other girls and she's gone. She actually threatened to break a cup over his head if he didn't get out of her house lol. I love karma. He's of course furious at me, and it's my fault she won't talk to him. It's my fault for trying to ruin his life. Like I'm the one who lied to her? I wasn't the one telling other girls I liked them, how pretty they were, sending them pictures of me when they just got out of the shower (gag) and I certainly wasn't the one who invited them over to my house. So I have no clue why it's my fault that he cheated on her. But, well, whatever. The important part is he leaves me alone so I can move on. Because I know it'll be a lot harder to do if he's still around.

All and all, I think I'm having a fantastic day and making fantastic progress.

I have some serious issues.

It really just figures.

When I've finally got the money, the need, and maybe even the courage to go to the doctors about my anxiety issues, I don't have any darn time!

With everything going on with my Grandma, and with Travis my anxiety levels are just. Blech.

You don't have to be having an anxiety attack to be having really bad anxiety. I haven't had an anxiety attack since Friday night, but that dreadful feeling in the pit of my stomach that feels like the world is about to implode every moment of every day, it's going nuts.

Typically for me things make me anxious more easily than they would other people, I will get a bad case of anxiety for a few hours for no reason, or some times there are of course the anxiety attacks. But I've had my bad case of anxiety since Friday. It's literally making me feel physically ill. My anxiety is mixing in with depression and it's just a horrible affair.

I've been dealing with anxiety for a large chunk of time by now, I've handled it, probably not that well. There have been times when I've thought I couldn't handle it. Times when I knew it was time to go to the doctors, it gets worse, the situational anxiety starts showing up less and less often and the sudden no rhyme or reason anxiety starts showing up more often. I've realized a few times that it was interfering with my every day life, that it was taking over, crippling me in a sense. But I always get through it and tell myself it was just a bad spell.

Well now with the Travis thing, and waiting for the results of Grandma's biopsy, the idea of going back to court, and the terrifying realness of actually putting yourself out there, I honestly don't know how I'm going to get through the next few weeks. I know I need to seek help. But I get too much anxiety about going to doctors. Which is why I haven't gone yet. That along with the fact that I really just don't like pills, I don't even typically take tylenol when I have a head ache. Just...not my thing. I really don't want to be dependent on some strange substance in my body to keep me feel normal.

Exercise helps. Eating right even does too! I feel better physically, and I'm so excited about how I feel physically that it's even boosting me mentally. But I'm not right in my head. The hamsters in my brain run too fast, my body can't keep up. I know I need to go see a doctor but EW. Doctors.


With the help of a good friend I came to realize my relationship with Travis is even more effed than I thought. I mean, I know we obviously don't get along. He cheated on me for over three years of our relationship, he even lived with the chick at one point while we were together. Our son had a surgery and he would sneak into the bathrooms to text her how he missed her while we were in the hospital. Real class act. We broke up and a few weeks later I dated his best friend while he obviously dated the other women. Another few weeks later and we were back together.

We've been on again off again for six years. I thought the relationship was bad because we fight, because he had cheated, because he feels betrayed I have been with two of his friends (while we were apart of course, I've never cheated) there was once he slapped me, and one fun filled night where he pushed me around the whole house, onto the ground, into walls, cabinet, screaming at me and eventually punched and cracked my wall. I thought we had issues because we just had issues.

But I realized today that I have more issues than I realized. There have been several occasions where I had met and started talking to someone new. His best friend for example was the only one I dated, but I tend to drop these people for Travis. I don't even want to be with Travis, I don't think I even like Travis, I know there is no future, and certainly not a happy one even if there was, for the two of us. And yet I can't go.

When I see him I feel like I'm supposed to kiss him, to hold his hand, to tell him I love him. It's like I honestly don't know how not to be with him. Which is ridiculous since I live without him every day and even when he's here I still have to do my cleaning and cooking and we never sleep together even if he would stay. Even when we are together we might as well not be.

But when he's mad at me, I'm desperate to make him talk to me, I'm desperate to make him love me, I don't know what to do with myself. You'd swear I was some beaten, battered wife or something but I'm not. He just has this crazy strong unbreakable hold on me.

I'm trying hard to break it. We've been pretty distant up until Friday, and since then we've done nothing but fight. Our fighting, I mean we always fight but when we have a serious fight, has left me a basket case.

I'm very much interested in this guy I met at work. He's great. Attractive, very fit, really funny, he doesn't drink at all which is such a breath of fresh air, a little older than me (I'm 21 and he just turned 28), he likes all the outdoor things I grew up doing but stopped in my teens, he seems really nice, and we do a lot of talking and flirting, and I'm really starting to like him.

But, even though Travis and I have been broken up since May, I haven't even been able to commit to giving this guy my number or to hanging out! Travis is talking to other girls, even spent the night with one, and I can't even give out my phone number? It's ridiculous.

And it's like, everything I do in my life, I do it because of him. If I listen to a sappy love song it's because I'm missing him, if I listen to an angry break up song its because I'm mad at him, the days hes coming over I even put the kids in sports stuff of the teams he likes, I dress to impress him, or to annoy him (I have a I hate the friggin Steelers shirt), even a lot of the facebook statuses I post are either to make him jealous or realize how happy I am without him!

It's absolutely crazy. And I honestly don't even want to be with him, but I just can't stop obsessing. I'm trying. I really am. I have never been like this before in my life. I think maybe it's all the emotional and mental abuse over the years, and I think if I would date someone else, I mean really date, like fully committed kind of date, that I would get better and move on. So I'm trying to see this thing through with this guy from work, to at least give it a chance. I gave him my number finally, we've only been flirting back and forth for more than two months, and I even invited him to come over some Saturday, but nothing specific. So, I mean. That's progress. But I've realized I have some serious issues that need some serious working through.

Belated weigh in, drama drama drama

I know I'm a little late for my weekly weigh in.

I did weigh myself Sunday though! I just didn't get time to update the blog.

I had a really good night Friday with Travis, and then a really bad night Saturday. It was a long night filled with him (literally) breaking into my house, me hiding his phone, his threatening to break mine, and a whole lot of yelling. Followed by me and the best friend with a whole lot of chips and laughing until we cried well into the middle of the night.

So Sunday I was a little exhausted! We came home from Grandma's and I just went the heck to sleep! Monday my grandmother had surgery. I'm going to ask anyone who happens to read this to keep her in your prayers. She had breast cancer, it will have been exactly five years tomorrow since they removed her breast. They found a cluster of lumps again and removed it yesterday. We are hoping it is just scar tissue or cysts or something, but won't get the biopsy results back for 7-10 days. Ugh. On top of that Travis just spring it on me that he wants the kids on weekends.

He has never taken them over night before. He usually watches them at my house, he's been unemployed for nine months and doesn't provide shit for them. But, he's not a bad father. Worthless provider, but when it actually comes to taking care of the kids and such I trust him. I know if we went to court he would get every other weekend anyway. So I told him once he got everything for the kids I didn't really see any reason he couldn't. Aside from the fact that I just plain don't want him to. But I'm selfish. I can count the number of times I've been away from the kids on one hand. Since Wyatt was born in May of 2011 I stayed away twice for my grandparent's funerals, they lived about three hours away and we went up for the viewing the first day, stayed the night, and attended the funeral the following day. I stayed away from Wyatt when I had Sawyer, and I let my mom keep them on my 21st birthday back in December. That's it. So I'm not emotionally ready to part with them for a whole weekend. I wasn't ready for Wyatt to attend two hours of preschool either, I'm just one of those crazy moms who actually enjoys her kids most of the time.

But I guess every other weekend wasn't good enough for him he wants them every weekend. So we got into this big whole thing, I tried to be reasonable, offered him every other weekend and one weekday (not over night) and he's not pleased with that so I guess we are going back to court. Which I'm actually pretty okay with. We have a written agreement for Wyatt, but then we got back together and had Sawyer, and I would kind of like to get something in writing for Sawyer too. And beside, if he takes me to court then at least I don't have to pay the filing fee this time lol.

I've still been reasonable though. Going through all there things and picking out the things I know he bought them. I even have a bunch of Steeler clothes that were given to me and I'm a die hard Eagles fan, he's a steelers fan so I'm even giving him the steelers clothes and hats and stuff. They don't do me any good sitting around. Up until this point in their life I believe he has bought the kids four shirts maybe, a pair of pants, a hoodie, a hat, and them books and toys for birthdays and Christmas's. Everything else has been from me and my family. So I think my giving him a few shirts and hats he didn't have any part of is a pretty nice thing for me to do!

ONTO THE ACTUAL WEIGHT STUFF

So I've been pretty tied up the last few days, and pretty exhausted. 

After the break in and screaming match with Travis my anxiety levels have been through the roof! When my anxiety was really reaching hectic levels I took to the treadmill and instantly felt better! Of course right now I'm at work and they sort of frown upon the employees taking jobs around the office so I'll just have to suffer until I get home. 

So onto the weigh in....

If you'll recall last week I weighed 178 and some odd decimal I don't actually remember off the top of my head.

This week I was hopeful to have lost maybe one pound. I have eaten pretty well this week. Minus one day I floured and fried my chicken in vegetable oil. It was pretty good though. And on Friday Travis cooked and I didn't count the calories, but they probably weren't great. An Italian sausage with spaghetti sauce and motzerella cheese and spaghetti. And then Saturday night after the episode with Travis Nicole and I (Nicole is my weight loss buddy and best friend, she sacrificed for me!) ate a bunch of chips and an ice cream sandwich. 

I worked out most days, but not every day. I didn't Friday or Saturday and I can't remember if I did Sunday or not. So it wasn't a bad week but it wasn't a great one either. I was hopeful to have lost a pound of two.

So when I stepped on the scale and it read 174.4 I was a little skeptical. So skeptical that I moved the scale all around the kitchen thinking maybe it was on a warped spot on the floor or something. My mom stepped on the scale and verified it's accuracy. Still, I'm very, very doubtful that I had lost four pounds. I'm thinking last week I might have weighed myself closer to when I ate lunch so I hadn't processed those calories yet, where as this week I went a little later.

I know you're supposed to weigh yourself at the same time every day, and I would do it first thing in the morning except my scale isn't accurate and my floors aren't level. I don't go to my moms at the same time every day, we go over after Sawyer's nap and sometimes he naps until noon, and other days until two. So there is a little bit of flexibility there.

Now next week because the weight was so low this week, I'm expecting to stay about the same weight, hopefully drop at least a pound. I didn't work out last night so we'll see how well the rest of the week goes. Tuesdays there is a show on I like to watch around the time I usually work out, so instead of hitting the treadmill or breaking out the DDR mat I usually do a lot of stretching, things like lunges or jump rope, and then during the entire commercial break I walk up and down the stairs until it comes back on.

I'm feeling pretty excited about my fitness journey. If the 174.4 was correct I've lost about 16.6 pounds now, 3.4 more pounds and I'm buying myself a new pair of shoes! I love it!

Weak ankles!

I don't know why, but my ankle has been driving me nuts lately!

I've always had kind of shotty ankles. Both are accident prone, but the one I had surgery on gives me problems even if I just do too much walking one day. So it's a little bit annoying. But it's been driving me extra nuts today even though I haven't done anything to it. Maybe that means it's going to rain soon.

It actually felt alright yesterday. And I didn't do too much. I actually even skipped my work out and went to sleep early because I had to be at work early today. Not that it mattered much because I couldn't sleep anyway. But still.

As soon as I get home I'm putting my ankle brace on. I'm not sure what this is going to mean for my workout tonight. I'll probably just walk tonight, that doesn't usually seem to bother it much. But then I don't usually get to work out Saturdays because I have friends over to play cards and they usually show up right after or even before the kids are in bed, which is typically when I do my exercises.

Of course, tonight is the first game Philadelphia is playing. I know it's only preseason but hot damn am I excited. I just want to see my Eagles play, preseason or not. I'm stoked. So of course, that sort of wipes out the treadmill thing since that's downstairs and my TV is upstairs...

Since I'm having ankle problems again I've decided that today I'm going to cover some workouts that are easy on your ankles or that help to strengthen them.

Exercises to strengthen weak ankles

• Resistance bands
• Using a resistance bend bend and twist your ankles around
• Standing on one foot 
• You could point your toes down for 30-60 second intervals, but doing so while putting pressure on them is even more affect. For example, stand on one foot and lean forward so your body is diagonal and rest against a wall while you do this so your ankle is being bent. 
• While sitting cross one leg over the other, your ankle should be hanging in the air. Pretend your ankle is a pen and trace each letter of the alphabet with it.

Low impact on ankle exercises

• 
  
• Rowing machines or kayaking
• Swimming or water aerobics
•  Russian twist(Think about it, your feet aren't even touching the ground!)
• Pilates
• Leg raises (Still using your legs and working on your thighs without actually putting any strain on your ankles!)
• Most resistance training
• Punching bag (Actual boxing requires a bit more leg and foot action but you can throw some punches without a huge strain unless you're practically lunging into the punching bag...)
• Scissor kicks
• Almost any kid of arm workout
• Pull ups

The bedding debate!

This is nothing really work out related. But oh well.

I tend to obsess over things. I mentioned yesterday that my work out was moving the kids' rooms around. Well this creates a whole new problem of course.

Matching.

Wyatt's original room was turtles and frogs. Turtles are my favorite and I wanted his room to be anything but  Winnie the pooh, cars, or some sort of sport since they are the most common bedroom themes for little boys!

What's hilarious is when we moved to the apartment he got a cars room instead lol. The whole bedding set was given to us and cars seemed more like something he could grow into so when we moved this is what we did.

Even more ironically when we moved into the house he got a winnie the pooh room! When we first moved into the apartment we didn't have cable at first so we watched some movies and he got addicted to winnie the pooh. And I do mean addicted. I had a roommate and even he was started to quote the movie word by word as it played! My aunt had a boy 7 years prior and gave me all of their winnie the pooh stuff so again. No cost to us, it's just funny I said I never wanted him in cars or pooh and he was in both!

I was 17 when I got pregnant with Wyatt and I had a really hard time connecting with my pregnancy, I told Travis from the moment we found out we were expecting that I was keeping him (which he said "Well duh") but even still I debated the entire pregnancy whether or not it was the right thing to do, though I never looked into adoption, I did consider it sort of like a back thought. I picked a crib and bedding set and we argued over names and contemplated baby shower dates, but I was never really certain. When I found out he had a cleft lip I was terrified I would be embarrassed about how he looked and everything like that. I was incredibly depressed, and my boyfriend cheating on me while I was pregnant certainly didn't help matters.

It was an entirely different story with Sawyer though. I wanted Sawyer from the start, actually I even tried (once only) to get pregnant with Sawyer and then immediately came to my senses and told Travis we were never doing that again. But surprise! I got pregnant from that one time. With Sawyer I was excited. We were out on our own, I knew he had a higher risk of a cleft (Wyatt's was spontaneous) but I decided I was ready for it either way. I knew I would love him. And I decided I wanted his room to have a nautical theme. I got so into it, we bought a navy blue crib sheet, the curtains, and a few other odds and ends. But I actually handmade a lot of his stuff. It really, really, helped me to bond with Sawyer while I was pregnant.

BUT ANYWAY! So currently Wyatt has a Winnie the Pooh bedding and stuff and Sawyer still has the nautical things and now they need to have something that matches!

Why do they need something that matches you may ask? I don't friggin know but they DO!
So here is what I'm thinking.

Wyatt really loves Disney/Pixar Cars, we happen to have a cars bed floating around at my mom's house that my aunt gave us and a race car carpet. I could do their room in cars.

Wyatt also loves Toy Story. I could do their room in toy story, I could give Wyatt a Woody bedspread and Sawyer a Buzz one so they wouldn't actually have the exact same thing and then I could paint their names yellow with blue around the edges like in toy story and then get some toy story type decor.

I could do any sort of sport, I could do regular like actual cars, I could do dinosaurs, dinosaurs are awesome!

I think I am however leaning towards superheros though. They'll probably like super heros until they're like 12, so that would be a good one. They could each have a different superhero. But how would I decide which to do their bedding in? Wyatt lives batman and spiderman!

But I'm actually already pretty excited about it. I've already started looking up a bunch of DIY things. Because, I mean, I have sooo much free time to do that sort of stuff again. Lol. I don't know how or when I'd get it done, but I really enjoyed doing so much for Sawyers room and I had uber bragging rights over everything that was hand made.


I'll probably update again when I'm working out. Though I haven't quite decided if I want to spend my evening walking back up and down the stairs tonight or on the treadmill. Maybe I'll even break the DDR mats out, of course it's difficult to blog and DDR at the same time. So we'll see what happens!

I'm going to be feeling this one tomorrow...

So here's the story, I have a three bedroom house that I'm renting. The first room was Wyatts, the second (which is actually considered a "bonus" room as it's connected to the third room and doesn't have heat ((well technically there is a heater right beside the archway but it's on the other side so technically considered to be heat for the other room)) and is superrr small) is my room and the third master room is Sawyers room. I did it this way because sawyer was still waking like four times a night so it made more sense to me to have my room connected to his than for wyatt and I put myself in the small room instead of sawyer because to get to the master room you have to go through the small room and I was worried if wyatt got up at night or early he'd wake up sawyer when he walked through the room to get me. And also, I'm paranoid and worried I wouldn't hear wyatt if he woke up and went downstairs if I was in the master.

Landlord said house was due to be inspected and since it is considered a two bedroom I moved my bed into Sawyers and made the "bonus" room their playroom/closet.

Because wyatt is still scared of his room and has been sleeping with me, since I was in Sawyers room, we have a three bedroom place and were all sleeping in one room! Lol. Today happened to be my day off so I decided to move everything back around.

Now that sawyer is sleeping all night I'm not worried about him waking wyatt and I actually really like them having a play room so I ultimately decided to put them in the same room (even though I was adamant about them having separate rooms when I was looking for a place lol). It makes more sense for their playroom to be connected to their room than mine and the master bedroom is obviously bigger and there's two of them and one of me so I decided that I would move them both in there, and move myself into Wyatts room.

What a stinking workout. I'm surprised how badly my ankle hurts (had surgery on it years ago, gives me problems sometimes but has been good.) I had to move my bed, head board, bed frame box spring, everything from under my bed (I have risers on it so I can fit lots of stuff under!) And my dresser from Sawyers room to Wyatts (now mine) along with my vanity, a small two drawer end table type dresser thing and tv from the play room to Wyatts(my) room. From wyatt (my) room I had to obviously move his bed and dresser and end table to Sawyers (their) room, I moved his two book cases and all of his books along with all of his toys including a big ballpit slide combo and play kitchen and other stuff to the play room. Then Sawyers dresser was also in the playroom and I moved that back into his (their) room.

The only thing I got help with was the mirror that sits onto of the vanity. The worst part was definitely Wyatts bed because it was a convertible crib I to a toddler bed and there was no way it would fit through the door I had to fight to get it semi apart so it could sort of collapse and definitely the vanity. I don't even want to know how much that thing weighs. Also, this wasn't hard, just tedious. Changing all the curtains around and also there were winnie the pooh decals on Wyatts walls taking all of them down and moving them to the play room was just annoying.

I didn't even finish organizing everything except the play room and at least got the furniture where I want it to be.

I got the best workout today. I'm betting I'm sore tomorrow. I know my ankle is killing me which is surprising since getting on the treadmill and yammering out two miles the past week hasn't bothered it much.  So I decided not to worry about working out tonight because I already did and I'm also pretty damn exhausted. I'm actually looking forward to work tomorrow so I can sit around and do nothing haha.

Cardio and Resistance training

Somewhere along the line many moons ago I read somewhere that to lose weight I had to do cardio. That cardio was essential! Whatever source I stumbled upon even gave me a magic number. "30 minutes." Great, even I could handle that! And in no time I'd be a sexy mofo. Today, I learned that this is not simply true.

What is cardio?

"Cardiovascular exercise is any type of exercise that increase the work of the heart and lungs." (taken from webmd)

So things like walking, jogging, swimming are common cardio work outs. I was under the impression that this was the best exercise to burn fat.

Benefits to cardio.

• It is a way to help you lose weight.
• It makes your heart and lungs stronger.
• Reduces the risks of heart attack, high choloesterol, high blood pressure and diabetes.
• Like any other work out it will make you feel better, reduce stress, boost energy, etc.
• Helps with endurance

Cardio is important, and I still believe that fitting in that half hour or longer of cardio is important, but here are some of the things I didn't know.

I was under the impression that after a work out your metabolism is raised for up to as long as 24 hours after! From what I've read today that isn't quite true with cardio. If I'm mistake feel free to correct me, but what I read today claimed that "you stop burning calories once you step off the treadmill." Well that's a bummer!

And also, when you lose weight you want to lose pounds of fat, you don't want to lose muscle. A decent chunk of the weight loss you lose with doing cardio alone will be fat.

You should still do your share of cardio. It does have a lot of positive affects but don't let it be the staple to your weight loss. (That should be your diet!!)  For the best results possible you should include resistance training.

What is resistance training?

Resistance training, also known as weight training, or weight training, works to increase muscle strength and endurance. These are usually done in repetitive motions, like lifting weights or using specific exercise machines. Resistance exercises stimulates the development of small proteins in muscle cells which will enhance your muscles ability to generate force. In lament turns, it makes you stronger

Benefits of resistance training.

• Improved muscle strength and bone strength.
• Better body mechanics (such as your balance, coordination and yes even your posture)
• Like almost any other exercise strength training can aide in disease prevention. It can aid with the aiding in the pain of arthritis, bone density issues, and can even help improve glucose control. 
• Make you feel better, help with stress, boost energy, etc.
• More calories burned

Your attention was probably peaked at "more calories burned." It takes more calories to make a build and even to maintain muscles. This means, when we are sitting on the couch watching TV, you will burn more calories for the muscles than you would with fat. Strength training can increase your metabolism by up to 15 percent!

"Won't that make me bulky"

No. But this just about the oldest myth out there. Strength training will make your muscles stronger and denser, but not necessarily bigger. The people who have huge muscles work for years at this, they follow a strict diet, a strict training plan, and take supplements to get this way and they do it over a decently long time. Lifting heavy items, or following a work out regiments a few times a week isn't going to make you bulk up. I mean, look at it this way, some people jog every day, you don't look at their legs and fear that if you got your head placed behind their knee that they'd pop it like a pimple! Using your resistance band or your weights or dumbbells is not going to give you muscles the size of your head. What they will do is give you a toned look and ensure that all of the pounds you lose are fat pounds rather than muscle strength throughout your body.


Resistance training is not big and scary and hard, it's wonderful and productive and awesome. Get on it!

Weekly weigh in

Rutt oh, weekly weigh in. If you'll remember two weeks ago I weighed 176.6 for around 14 pounds lost, and also that I had a bad week last week and also didn't get to weight myself.

Unfortunately I weighed in today at 178.4. Which means that I gained almost two pounds the last two weeks.

As frustrating as this may be, I totally deserved it. I knew I gained last week between the birthday cupcakes, massive amount of veggie pizza, and virtually no exercise. I knew I gained last week and I was actually relieved to not have to weigh myself.

I'll admit, I didn't count calories again this week. That I might have picked a little more than I have the past few weeks. I will shamelessly admit that I baked cinnamon rolls for lunch one day. No regrets. They were delicious. Saturday I ate even after I was full. The dealership I work at treats everyone who has to work to lunch every Saturday and we had burgers and fries from Front Street Deli. If you have one in your town you should try one, one of the best burgers I've ever had! I also had a few sodas this week which is unusual for me. One with my lunch Saturday, one Wednesday when I was shopping and then today at my moms I had a glass of mountain dew and sprite. We celebrated my sisters birthday today. More cake and ice cream. I never turn down ice cream, and who could turn down rainbow cake?

Oh yeah, and I drank Saturday night. There's a lot of calories in alcohol, don't even get me started.

So I guess what I'm saying is I ate shit this week. The diet portion of my healthy living fell very flat this week, the exercise part I've actually been doing very well. Back into my daily grind, fitting at least an hour in daily, usually half an hour of cardio and I do some resistance training before and then after my cardio mixed in with my stretching.

It's actually really weird, some days I wake up and my first thought is I can wait until I get to work out! Then of course there are other days where I really just don't feel like it. I'll admit, I am fucking exhausted. I'm usually getting to sleep around 1 in the morning and my days are filled with work cleaning mothering and recleaning what I already cleaned because my mothering is a messy job. It's sometimes so incredibly frustrating to put the kids to sleep and I want nothing more than to collapse into bed and get a full 6 or 7 hours of sleep! But I know I have to work out. By the time I change, get my shoes on, get my glassed filled with ice water, actually work out, and clean myself up its usually either pushing or past 1 in the morning.

I'm pretty sure I'm probably going to hit a plateau this way but I don't know what else to do. There just aren't enough hours in the day anymore. A lot of my "me time" lately is getting done on the treadmill because I don't have any damn time to do any leisurely activities during the day. Like reading, blogging, writing in general.

I'm exhausted and I really could use a nap...I know there's a lot of single mums out there who can completely relate to me. I mean really, just how else can we do it?

I'll admit, I get insanely jealous and frustrated when someone tells me they don't have time or are too tired to work out. It shouldn't frustrate me, because it's their life and their decisions and if they don't want to work out I'm certainly not going to be able to convince them. But people who don't work or have school or have no kids or who have kids but have a spouse there with them or who at least takes the kids.

Of course after I get insanely angry at them I realize I'm not really angry, I'm jealous because life is hard. But when you pry further into the lives of the unemployed, babyless, or married person you find that their lives are usually pretty hectic too. There are very few people who actually just sit on their ass all day, or sleep all day, very few who have NOTHING going on. Sometimes I have to remind myself of that, and also that I chose this situation myself. If I had the power to change literally anything I wanted I wouldn't even change my situation, I'd just tack on a few extra hours to the day so everyone who is just as busy and consumed as I am could have more time to do everything they need to and SLEEP.

To be honest, when I lose a ton of weight I can brag about how busy I am and how I still made time to do it anyway (; my challenges are what make my journey special. Same as anyone else. No matter what your challenges are, small or big that's part of your story and that's what makes your journey so amazing.

Be amazing.

Work out music

Please have fun when you work out. Seriously. Have fun and mesh activity into your every day lifestyle.

For example. Doing the dishes for me is 20 minutes actually washing the dishes a another 40 minutes of busting some serious (and embarassing) moves. Thank God it's just me and the kids and they're already used to my craziness.

I find the treadmill really boring. So I use it to do what I don't get a whole lot of time to do during the day. I get on the internets. I'm blogging while on the treadmill right now (; a half hour is my goal, 30 minutes of cardio. Cardio is a pretty crucial element to losing weight! But anyway. I got on my treadmill and I was dancing so wildly I knocked the key out and made the treadmill stop. Oops. I've actually never used the key before this in my life. I figured I'm capable of moving one foot in front of the other without falling and I'd be fine, I only put it in now because I'm a considerable amount more accident prone while trying to dance-walk. Oh well, at least I'm not bored.

Yesterday I was griping about my arm band getting all sweaty. The thing j put my ipod in that I was sooooo excited when I bought it. It annoys me because it gets all sweaty and I'm seriously concerned about water damage to my ipod.

If you do this and break your ipod I take no responsibility. I wouldn't suggest this if you're running, or obviously if you plan on using those arm things. Since I am doing neither it works out well, and it's easier to change the song this way too.

Speaking of songs. Isn't it crazy how differently they affect your work out? I thought I could only work out to high paced, pop or angry songs to get me going. Today I did my dumbbell exercises with Christina Aguilera's Nasty Naughty Boy playing. If you haven't heard the song before let's put it this way, a song to play on a road trip with your kids? Definitely not. Quality strip tease song? Best I've ever heard. So my dumbbell exercises took on a surprising erotic twist. Which is fine since I'm all by myself, it sounds mighty awkward but I do believe it was the most intense I've ever done them before. Go figure.

Slower songs just mean I get more into the lyrics, which obviously means I belt them at the top of my lungs as I'm walking. Which I guess is okay because at least I'm not bored or focusing on how long or how far I have to go yet.

So I guess you have to find what works best for you. I know a lot of people go for fast paced songs, but for me, as long as I like the song, I can get into just about anything.