Can I keep calling him Baby now that he's four years old. Yes, yes I can. I am officially giving myself permission to do that until (1) I stop calling him "Baby" in real life or (2) I have another baby, whichever comes first.
Baby is four years old. He is potty trained (there was no magic bullet--just a long, long time and a lot of wet "unnuhweers"). He uses full sentences. He sings entire songs. He makes crafts in preschool. He plays games on pbskids.org. He holds hands when he crosses the street ("so the cars won't snash me"). He can tread water without his floaties on, and he can jump off the diving board if he does have his floaties on. He says the prayer before dinner. His favorite book is This is the Way to the Moon, and he is in the library summer reading program. His favorite food is a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with watermelon and canned corn on the side. He is everything I ever wanted in a four-year-old boy.
Monday, July 12, 2010
Thursday, July 08, 2010
Dieting
Living in SoCal has its perks. The fact that I spend much of my time in a swimsuit is not one of them. I don't look super-cute in a swimsuit these days. (Maybe I just haven't found the right swimsuit yet. Must think about this...). This wouldn't bother me too much because most of America doesn't look super-cute in a swimsuit, but I don't look that great in the one pair of jeans that still fits me either.
Soo, I'm dieting. In the past, I've been able to lose weight by keeping the fact that I want to lose weight in the back of my mind. When I'm lying around, watching late-night TV, thinking how terrific it would be to eat an entire pan of brownies, I remember that I'm trying to lose weight, and I just stay on the couch. I didn't want to get off the couch anyway, so there. When I'm rooting around in the fridge, trying to find mayonnaise or bacon or deep-fried lard hunks, I remember I'm on a diet, and I give up and eat my turkey sandwich plain. And after a few weeks of succumbing to my laziness instead of my hunger, my jeans fit a little better.
But not this time. I'm getting the feeling that this fat has moved in and intends to take possession of my body through the legal doctrine of adverse possession. In most states, it only takes 20 years before the adverse possessor gains full legal title to the property.
(Maybe the reason this weight is more difficult to kick off is that I'm approaching my 30th birthday. Must think about this...).
Now I'm on an honest-to-goodness diet, and, you know, it is not very fun. It's not that I don't like vegetables and lean proteins--I do--it's just that I like other things too: wonderful, beautiful things like cinnamon rolls and fettuccine alfredo. Sigh.
I'm also exercising, sort of. Instead of being a good suburban mom in her car, I am an amazing suburban mom on a bike with a trailer. This is big deal since I live in city that apparently doesn't have a single 50-foot stretch of road that isn't on a hill.
Here's the hard thing: riding a bike is not fun when you don't look cute in your jeans. Come to think of it, eating vegetables and lean proteins is also more fun when done in cute jeans.
I'll get there. But I don't have to enjoy the journey.
Soo, I'm dieting. In the past, I've been able to lose weight by keeping the fact that I want to lose weight in the back of my mind. When I'm lying around, watching late-night TV, thinking how terrific it would be to eat an entire pan of brownies, I remember that I'm trying to lose weight, and I just stay on the couch. I didn't want to get off the couch anyway, so there. When I'm rooting around in the fridge, trying to find mayonnaise or bacon or deep-fried lard hunks, I remember I'm on a diet, and I give up and eat my turkey sandwich plain. And after a few weeks of succumbing to my laziness instead of my hunger, my jeans fit a little better.
But not this time. I'm getting the feeling that this fat has moved in and intends to take possession of my body through the legal doctrine of adverse possession. In most states, it only takes 20 years before the adverse possessor gains full legal title to the property.
(Maybe the reason this weight is more difficult to kick off is that I'm approaching my 30th birthday. Must think about this...).
Now I'm on an honest-to-goodness diet, and, you know, it is not very fun. It's not that I don't like vegetables and lean proteins--I do--it's just that I like other things too: wonderful, beautiful things like cinnamon rolls and fettuccine alfredo. Sigh.
I'm also exercising, sort of. Instead of being a good suburban mom in her car, I am an amazing suburban mom on a bike with a trailer. This is big deal since I live in city that apparently doesn't have a single 50-foot stretch of road that isn't on a hill.
Here's the hard thing: riding a bike is not fun when you don't look cute in your jeans. Come to think of it, eating vegetables and lean proteins is also more fun when done in cute jeans.
I'll get there. But I don't have to enjoy the journey.
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