I Don't Even Know How Decimals Work, but it's What's on the Scale, so You Know.

If you follow me on Facebook (and you should), then you know my internet was wonky Friday, but I posted my weight went down. Just a little, but still... Then the weekend got insane-car shopping and homework and life and more homework-so I didn't get to post the exact number. 


I know you've been waiting all weekend, barely able to function just needing to know how much weight I lost last week. Yes, you have. Well, so you can get your week off to the right start, here's the number: .6. Yep, I lost .6 pounds, whatever that means. All I know is that it's less than a pound but more than half a pound. Other than that, you start throwing punctuation into my math, I'm screwed. Hell, you throw numbers into my math and I'm screwed.


I'm actually pretty happy with the loss, even though it's small for two reasons. One, I can still see a difference in my clothes. Even Grace's jeans (yes, I am the mom who wears her daughter's jeans but not ultra low rise, I-look-like-an-dumbass-in-my-daughter's-clothes pants) I sometimes wear fit me soooo much better than they did the last time I wore them, which was like two weeks ago. Yay me! Secondly, I only worked out three days last week. The rest of the week was insane and I was so freaking stressed from everything I had to do, all the homework I had (and still have) and I didn't make time for me, which was one of my goals for 2012, even if it's just 30 minutes a day ALL FOR ME. 


I plan to get back on track this week and hopefully the scale and my clothes will continue to reflect my work. Hope all of y'all are still enjoying a scale moving in the right direction!


Now, off to do homework...

o

I Don't Even Know How Decimals Work, but it's What's on the Scale, so You Know.

Sometimes While NJ Talks With His Out Loud Voice, I Have Conversations With Him in My Head. By "Sometimes" I Mean Usually

NJ has started preparing me for the things I need to make sure to do around the house when he goes back to work in a few weeks. A lot of times when he says those things, I give the appropriate response out loud, but in my head I'm having an entirely different conversation. It's generally mocking. For example, here's a re-enactment of a conversation we had yesterday:


NJ: This spring when you're mowing the yard, you need to make sure to check  for baby squirrels and bunnies before you mow so you don't accidentally hit them.


Me (in my head): Mow the yard this spring? That's precious? Have you met me? I've mowed once and, while I did pretty good, I'm hardly qualified to mow often. But I'll make sure to share this with the lawn service I hire. Oh, wait, we can't afford a lawn service because I don't have a full-time job. OMG, we're poor!! We're going to have the ugliest yard on the block. Maybe I'll have the kids do it. Oh, who the hell am I kidding? They won't even do it right and now I have to check the yard for livestock BEFORE I mow?!?!? Stupid Rick Perry.


Me (out loud): What do I do in the event I find a baby squirrel or bunny? Scoop it up? Because, as you know, I don't touch livestock.


NJ: You mean wildlife? Before you move it out of the way, look around first and make sure you don't see the mama anywhere. A mama squirrel will make this barking sound like a dog and attack you if you touch one of her babies and they are impossible to get off once they start. You should watch the videos of squirrels attacking on Youtube. But, if you do find a baby squirrel and don't get attacked by the mama, we could bring it in the house and raise it as a pet. Wouldn't that be cute?


Me (in my head): I MIGHT GET ATTACKED BY A SQUIRREL?!?! Are you effing crazy?!?! How do I even deal with that? Dammit, Rick Perry, because cutting education jobs was part of your big plan for balancing the budget in Texas, I might get attacked by a mother effing mama squirrel?!?! Your hair looks like a mother effing squirrel is living in it. Did he just say we could raise a baby squirrel in the house as a pet? Is he high?


Me (out loud): Did you just say we could raise a baby squirrel in the house? Are you high? 


I have a good feeling about this marriage lasting.


And I'm not raising a baby squirrel in this house. (Yes, Bill, I know you did and it was the best pet y'all ever had. We'd get a crazy one. There's no way around it in this family.)

o

Sometimes While NJ Talks With His Out Loud Voice, I Have Conversations With Him in My Head. By "Sometimes" I Mean Usually

The One Good Thing This Week

This week my pride took quite a beating and I've been a little blue and a little angry (or a lot) which has impacted my dedication to getting skinny a bit. Not so much food wise-I wasn't really all that hungry due to stress and when I did eat it I couldn't eat much without wanting to puke. It was with the working out. I was busy and unmotivated and my workouts were sporadic at best. 


But I noticed two things before today's weigh in that brightened me a little and made me realize I was making progress:


1) My clothes fit differently. They're looser in my thighs and across my belly. Those are the two places I've really been freaking over because no one wants to look like Santa Claus, especially a chick and I think had I put on some red pants, kids would've been wanting to set in my lap and tell me what they want for Christmas. 


2) As shitty as I've felt all week about the beating my pride is taking, I feel even shittier when I don't workout. I miss it. I feel blah and sluggish without it. I feel gross, like when I really need a shower. And when I do workout? I feel a thousand times better and can think more clearly. Yesterday, I even ran a little. Granted, I was mad at NJ and was pretending to play whack-a-mole with his head every time my foot hit the pavement, but still, I ran and no one was chasing me. Yes, I know I how annoying I sound.


All of that was the long way to say the scale showed I lost TWO pounds. Even though that's not much, the bonus is that I know my body is changing. (Thanks to everyone for your sweet words of encouragement last week! Y'all ROCK!! I haven't measured yet, but that's mostly due to just right now finding the measuring tape.) 


So, I guess really there were three good things this week. 


Which makes me cautiously optimistic...

o

The One Good Thing This Week

The Generation Gap Rears its Ugly Head

The following is a re-enactment of the conversation that went down between Gracie and me just a few minutes ago while watching the Oikos greek yogurt commercial:


Gracie: Here's that guy you like?


Me (walking into the living room): He's a beautiful, beautiful man.


(I happened to rub my stomach at this particular point.)


Gracie: Uh, are you planning on eating him?What's his name? Johnny Santos? 


Me: You mean John Stamos?

I swear to God, the older he gets, the more beautiful he gets.
Beautiful enough I can almost forget that whole Uncle Jessie
thing. This beautiful hunk of pic is courtesy of WikiCommons.

Johnny Santos? Really? This from the girl who owns every season of Full House on DVD?


How rude!!

o

The Generation Gap Rears its Ugly Head

I Blame Friday the Thirteenth

I found the scale. Wish I hadn't because I'm right back where I started. The same exact place to the ounce. I kind of want to cry because I've been working my ass off-or so I thought but I guess I've been working it back on. Even those days I was hobbled by my kitchen acrobatics I watched what I ate since working out was, well, out. 


This week not only have been eating right, but I've worked out so hard I limp for a second when I first stand up because my inner and outer thighs (and hips and abs and arms) are so sore. Yoga meltdown is hard, people. Grace tried to do it with me and barely made it through the warm-up. You would think with all that sweat, pain and cussing, the scale would at least reflect something. You know, like a loss.


I wonder if I psyched myself into a weight gain because I was stressing about not getting to sign up for the class I planned to take? Or just stressing in general about moving, money, finding a job and my financial aid ever making it here? Whatever the case, I'm not giving up.


As a matter of fact, I'm amping up the workout. 


I'm dusting off the P90X. 


If you see a chubby blonde in one of those motorized carts at the grocery store, make sure to stop and say hi, cause if Yoga Meltdown makes me this sore, I'm thinking moving won't be an option at all once I do the P90X.


And hopefully next week will be negative as a result.


Hope all the rest of y'all are having better luck than me!!

o

I Blame Friday the Thirteenth