What’s up with Wanda?

Hello, world!

Lately I seem to have difficulty finding time to attend this blog with any regularity.  I’m envious of all the amazing bloggers I follow who seem to have the time, energy, and creativity to post weekly, if not multiple times each week.  How do you do it?  If I can post once every two weeks, I feel accomplished.  And in order to do that I have to hide from my family and make them pretend I’m not home.  I am so very behind on my blog reading, it’s pitiful.  I’m trying to catch up, so if you see me comment or like five of your posts in one day, I’m not really stalking you.  Much.  As far as you know.

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I guess this post is really just a mish-mash of catching up.  You know, sort of a ‘What’s up with Wanda?” kind of thing.  Not very exciting, but here goes…

happy squidBryn got home from camp!  She was tired, happy,  and her dirty laundry smelled like Hell farted in her face.  I’m not kidding.  I gagged as I was loading the washing machine.  It was a weird combination of body odor, some outdoorsy kind of smell, and dirt.  Aside from that, I was so happy to have her home!  You could say I was giddy.  I couldn’t stop hugging her and I could tell she wanted to be hugged.  She said she had a great time, and they kept the kids so busy she didn’t have time to miss us.  They did nature hikes every day, learned some cool outdoor skills, and got to do fun science experiments that included dissecting a squid and building a model structure that was designed to withstand an earthquake.  They studied marine biology, engineering and geology.  She loved it and we all survived the week.  Well, everyone but the squid.

The hubs and I started the My Fit Foods 21 Day Challenge, and we are currently on day 14.  No coffee, no alcohol, and no sugar for 21 days.  The diet involves eating three meals and two snacks per day, and My Fit Foods provides all the meals and snacks, fully balanced and portion controlled.  The diet is completely clean with no processed food, gluten or added preservatives.  The food is pretty good.  Honestly.  The hardest part is denying yourself all the things you would normally eat or drink that become routine and habit forming.  Like coffee.  And wine.  I really miss coffee and wine. 11188254_10152787327525737_6854965520899974824_n[1] I also miss eating out.  I love good restaurants, and eating out is a huge part of our social activity as a family and while spending time with friends.  That’s been one of the hardest habits to break in the past two weeks.  Oh, and you also have to drink what they call the My Fit Cocktail.  You mix it up first thing in the morning and down it before breakfast.  It’s a combination of unsweetened cranberry juice, apple-cider vinegar, and lemon juice.  It’s like a super cleanse, detoxifying punch to the face.  I won’t miss that when the 21 days are over.  We started this challenge as a way to break some of the bad habits we’d fallen into with ordering out and just over-indulging in our favorite restaurants and meals, far too often.  Also, despite my working out with a trainer, my ass seems determined to hang on to its double-bubble, and I needed to shake that up.  So far, it’s paid off.  Dan has lost eight pounds in 14 days, and I’ve lost five.  The plan is expensive, so not something a person or family can sustain over more than a few weeks time.  It’s also time consuming in a way.  Although the program prepares all the food for you, you still have to deconstruct the meals so that you can eventually re-create the type of meals you need to eat on your own once you finish the challenge.  That’s what I hate about dieting in general.  It’s the constant awareness of everything you eat, why you eat it, how often you eat, and the combination of foods to maximize the effect on your body.  It’s exhausting, and did I mention that I really miss wine?

Amen

Amen

My son had his pre-K promotion ceremony last week!  The two classes put on a Hawaiian themed performance, singing Beach Boys songs and muddling through some nicely choreographed but poorly executed dance moves.  At the end they were all called up by the pre-school director and given little scrolls of paper tied to look like diplomas, but in actuality the papers were blank.  (The kids were given real certificates later.)  It was adorable, and as usual, most of the parents devolved into the most self-centered, inconsiderate versions of themselves.  It’s sad really.  It seems every parent is willing to piss off ten others by hogging the good camera angles instead of just getting their picture of their kid and then moving aside so another family can get some decent pictures.  We have no useable pictures of Bryce because of the mob of parents who kept standing up to take pictures, or kept raising their cell phones above their heads to video the performance.  All we have are pictures of the top of Bryce’s head and the arms and asses of several other parents who refused to sit down, despite the director halting the show to ask parents to be considerate of others in the room.  Dan was about to lose his shit because the dad sitting in front of us kept standing up every time Dan tried to get a picture.  He started to get mouthy with the guy, so I leaned over and quietly informed him that the asshole in question was the father of the boy whose birthday party Bryce was invited to the next day.  He’s actually a really nice guy.  So, the bottom line is, don’t be that parent.  Don’t be the douche-bag dad or mom who only cares about their own kid at a performance and denies other families the opportunity to enjoy the experience as well.  And remember, all the other parents whose experience you ruined, will talk about your douche-baggery for years to come.

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My older brother, who is also one of my best friends, had major back surgery yesterday morning.  He has a degenerative disc disease that destroyed the cushion between a few of his lower vertebrae, and he was at the end of his options for any type of less invasive medical intervention.  He’s only 42 years old and has been living with chronic, debilitating back pain for years.  Yesterday morning he had an ALIF (Anterior Lumbar Interbody Fusion) for L5-S1.  Let me tell you, it’s some serious shit.  The surgeon entered through his abdomen to reach and fuse the lower part of his spine.  Think about that for a moment, and let the gravity of what that entails sink in.  He made it through surgery like a boss, and I’ll be traveling to Texas next week to help my sister-in-law take care of him while he’s recovering.  I’m anxious to be there with him, and the past week building up to the procedure has been stressful.

So, there you have it.  That pretty much sums up the past two weeks.  Throw in some housework, ten thousand loads of laundry, constant ass-kicking’s from my trainer, some butt-wiping, end of year school activities and there’s my full plate.  🙂  And just to leave you with something funny that made me laugh…..

Have a great weekend!

Have a great weekend!

 

Wanda Says…I can do anything for a count of ten!

I’ve got good news and bad news.

The good news is that in my attempt to increase my levels of physical fitness, I walked over 12,000 steps yesterday.  The bad news is that I’m pretty sure my knees and ankles are now plotting to murder me in my sleep.

I’ve been plugging along with my diet and exercise routine with somewhat slow but still fairly decent results.  The first week with my trainer I gained two pounds which she assured me was normal.  Then I lost the two pounds and gained them back when my bestie came into town for the weekend.  Apparently drinking gallons of wine and eating out two meals a day is not exactly healthy or good for my diet.  Whatever.

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Even though I’m not shedding pounds quickly, and I accept the fact that this is my fault and directly related to my weekend activities, I am getting stronger.   I can feel it in my arms and legs.  And I notice the difference in what I can do in my workouts.

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My trainer, Carrie, is amazing.  I actually look forward to working out with her.  Can you believe that?  I look forward to an hour of physical punishment twice a week.  I describe it as punishment because after the workout I feel like I need to crawl into bed and sleep for the rest of the day.  The other day I came home from the gym and went into my son’s room to play with him.  I laid down on his bed and passed out for over an hour.  I slept in his bed in the middle of the day while he played around me.  That one hour with Carrie is so exhausting, and my whole body has been continuously sore for weeks.  My armpits are even sore.  I actually feel like someone punched me in the armpit, repeatedly.  Who knew that was possible?  But during the workout I don’t feel exhausted.  I just feel strong and curious to see what I can do.  I never watch the clock, either.  When I workout with her I never feel like I have to check and see how much time is left before I can be done.

exercise-would-be-so-much-more-rewarding-if-calories-screamed-in-agony-as-you-burned-them-f568c[1]Prior to our workout, I do a quick warm up on the treadmill in a small, woman’s only section of the gym.  This room has mirrors on every wall, so while I’m on the treadmill I can see my body from every angle.  This has proved to be very motivating for me.  By the time I’m done with that warm up and join Carrie in the larger section of the gym I am mentally prepared for her to put me through my paces.  Seeing my body from every angle while I walk on that treadmill reinforces why I’m there.  I told Carrie about this and then said to her, “I don’t care what you ask me to do as long as you help me get rid of my second ass.  I only need one, and this bitch has been free-loading on my backside for long enough.”

She also pushes me in ways that I would never think to push myself.  I’ve learned to not even look at the amount of weight she hands me.  My first workout I thought she was crazy when she handed me ten pound dumbbells.  Now, I just trust that she knows what she’s doing and she wouldn’t give it to me if she thought I couldn’t really do it.  It is hard.  I have to fight through the exercises and I’ve learned what people mean when they talk about the mental aspect of pushing through physical barriers.  I mentally chant to myself during difficult exercises, which is almost every exercise she asks me to do.  I quietly tell myself, over and over, “I can do anything for a count of ten.”  Of course, it’s actually three sets of ten, but in that moment I just need to get through ten.   I focus on that and it helps me to wrap my head around what I am pushing my body to do.

My first week I could only plank for twenty seconds.  My whole body vibrates with the effort necessary to hold the position.  At week four I can do fifty seconds.  I hate that fifty seconds.  Carries says, “Close your eyes, breathe and go to your happy place.”  Instead, I close my eyes and repeatedly think, “I can do anything for fifty seconds.”

And I can.

Wanda Says…Ummmm, I did not order this.

Hello, world.

I’ve been out of the social media/WordPress mix for a little while for a variety of reasons.  I’ve been volunteering to help with a fundraiser at my daughter’s school and between that and the time I’ve been spending recovering from my sessions with my personal trainer, I haven’t had the time or energy to think about anything interesting to share with all of you.

Until today….

Yesterday a package arrived for my daughter.  That’s not necessarily surprising as she sometimes gets small packages from grandparents without warning.  I asked my husband if he ordered anything for her, or if his mother did, and he said he wasn’t expecting anything and hadn’t ordered anything himself.  What was interesting was that the package came from Walmart, and we rarely shop at Walmart.

So I opened it to see what was in the box and if there was a gift message on the packing slip.

Keep in mind this box came addressed to my ten year old daughter.

Here is a picture of the packing slip…

walmart packing slip

WTF?

What a random assortment of items.  Pop tarts, K-Cups, toothpaste and feminine hygiene products.  Really?

I realize this must be a shipping mistake.  How Bryn’s name and address ended up in the Walmart database is curious because we never order anything from them. I went to Walmart’s website and tried to track the order number so I could see who purchased the items, but because my email address didn’t match the order number the website wouldn’t let me in to see anything, which is a good thing as it protects the information of the person who actually did order these products.

Bryn thought it was funny and wanted to examine the contents of the box, and as she was looking through the box she said, “What are Pop Tarts?”

Did you hear that?  Do you know what that means?

In this moment, right now, I feel like a good parent.  I feel like I might have done something right.

Who knew in this moment of random, shipping mistake, box full of assorted grocery store items, that I would find validation of my parenting choices?  My chest swelled a little and I smiled.

My daughter is ten years old and she doesn’t know about Pop Tarts!  As crazy ass Charlie Sheen would say, “I am WINNING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

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I’m a winner too, Charlie!

 

I grew up on the most processed, non-food imaginable.  Nutrition in the 80’s and 90’s at my house was all about Hamburger Helper, Tuna Helper, Pop Tarts, Cheez-Whiz, Bagel Dogs, Twinkies, and sugar cereals.  The most fruit we ever had in our house was when my mother was making a batch of her famous Sangria.

Now that I’m the parent, I don’t feed my kids that stuff.  My kids have never tasted Cheez-Whiz and they have never had pasta out of a can.  Now, that doesn’t mean that I’m a super-freak about everything they eat.  After all, pizza is their favorite food and they act like the apocalypse is looming if we run out of Eggo pancakes.  But my kids eat real food, and I try to buy organic, whole food as much as possible.

But that is not the point of this post.  The point, my dear friends, is that Walmart has inadvertently made me feel like I might be able, at some point, to claim that ever-elusive Mother of Year award.  I am one step closer thanks to their misprinted shipping labels!

Thank you Walmart!  Thank you, and please understand that I never shop in your store due to the lack of enforceable dress code and tendency to run into ‘The People Of Walmart.’  😉

 

Wanda Says…On my son’s opinion of Corn Syrup.

boy with juiceMy kids love juice.

I don’t really serve them much juice because I know it’s the equivalent of giving them sugar water.  Now that they are a little older I buy reduced-sugar apple juice, or all natural juice boxes for their lunches.

Last week, in an attempt to switch things up a bit, my husband picked up some Sunny Delight at the store.  The kids love orange juice and he thought they would like it.

Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!

As I was standing in the kitchen looking at the list of ingredients on the juice bottle, this is the conversation that went down as my son was drinking his orange juice….

Me:  Dan, this juice has corn syrup in it.  So we can finish the bottle, but let’s not buy this again.

Bryce:  This juice is delicious!  What’s corn syrup?

Me:  The syrup of corn.

Bryce:  I love the syrup of corn!

Me:  I’m just kidding Bryce.  It’s a sweetener made from corn and it’s really bad for you.

Bryce:  It’s not bad for me!  It’s so good for me!  I love this!  I love this corn syrup juice!

Me:  Well, enjoy it while it lasts because we’re not buying it again.

Bryce:  We are going to buy it again!  Aren’t we, daddy?  Right, daddy?  Right, daddy?  Say yes.  Say yes.  Say yes.

orange surpriseBased on Bryce’s behavior, I would say Sunny Delight is crack for kids.

Now he refers to Sunny Delight as corn syrup juice and everyday he asks for some.  Everyday he says, “Can I have corn syrup juice?  Corn syrup is so good for my body and you need to get me some more.  It’s good.  It’s soooooo good.  I love corn!  I will eat if for dinner if you put some syrup on it.”

Yeah, we are never buying this again.  Sorry, Sunny D.