South Beach Not Working For You? Try London

In cleaning out my "Drafts" folder this week, I found a TON of gems-- quippy one-liners, topic ideas, posts that I started... even ones that I completed, but then completely forgot to post.

Maybe I'm not such lousy blogger after all? Hmm...

Here's one that I wrote (and forgot about) over a month ago. Enjoy!

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For two years, I've struggled with losing the baby weight.

(Can you still call it that when my "baby" sasses like a pouty teenage girl?)

I've made resolutions to workout and eat right. I reacquainted myself with the gym and joined fitness boot camp, and still nothing really changed...

I was miserable and it showed in my half-ass wardrobe. Nothing ever fit right since I was convinced that this was all "only temporary".

Finally, I decided to love my big happy self and just BUY the larger size already-- shirts that buttoned, underpants that covered the expanse of my rear, and jeans that fit... comfortably... zipped and on my waist.

I even did one better. In our mad purging and packing to move to London, I donated seventeen huge lawn bags filled to capacity with old clothes.

The rest... because yes, there WAS more... was given away to a family friend who is about to graduate college and in need of "appropriate work attire". I felt good about myself!

Well, you know that saying about how giving away your baby stuff is a surefire way to get pregnant again?

No, I'm not pregnant again.

What I'm trying to say is that the same goes for your "skinny clothes"...

Who knew that the stress of moving overseas, followed by walking everywhere and carrying a toddler... and his stroller... and all of his stuff... up and down the steps to the Tube is THE BEST WORKOUT ever...

In spite of my addiction to buttery scones and access to delicious fresh baked breads, the inches have melted away effortlessly. Seriously. I have done nothing... Well, except give up my car.

Hmmm, maybe I should have done that years ago?

This is all great except that I'm back to my original predicament...

NOTHING IN MY CLOSET FITS ANYMORE!

I probably should be thrilled about the prospect of going shopping again. However, I should remind you that I live in the second most expensive city in the world. Upping my daily pastry intake would be less of a financial hit.

Oh, and I hate shopping. Wah!

Talking A Load Off My Mind... and switching it with another

Thank you for the well wishes. My son is doing a lot better today.

I haven't done much else this week-- just lots of watching my son breathe and researching childhood asthma. I've been educating myself on the terminology, treatments, and theories.

I even contacted our local asthma specialist and got her to come to OUR HOUSE and examine my son THAT day. (It pays to be pushy, people)

There's plenty of info out there, just not much in the way of a cure or prevention...

Since my son's asthma seems to be brought on by upper respiratory infections which are a permanent fixture of... you know, CHILDHOOD and completely unavoidable, there's apparently "nothing we can do about it".

The best we can do is "hope" he outgrows it and just accept it as "part of our lives" until then.

Well, I'm sorry, but I'm just too much of a control-freak mommy to buy that!

His doctor has put him on daily inhalers as a preventative. However, I'm not too keen on that either as they seem to come with some equally scary side-effects.

I've also read that something like one in FIVE kids suffers from asthma, so I guess that means at least one in five of you parents reading this post are dealing with this too.

Any insights or support you could provide would be really helpful to me right now... even if it's just to tell me to get over myself already.

I'm a big girl. I can take it.

In the meantime, I'm going to get started on designing that bubble for us to live in and resign myself to a life of only having online friends...

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Other things that have been overshadowed by the recent week's events, as if this post wasn't long enough...

OUR HOUSE IN TEXAS SOLD!!!! Yew-haw!

Oh yeah... did I forget to tell you? It was under contract for about a month, but seeing as the last "committed buyers" backed out a week before the closing, I wasn't about to hold my breath.

In talking with other American expats in London, we've learned that most opted to rent out instead of sell their homes in the States. We actually considered doing the same when a serious offer came in...

As much as we didn't like the idea of being absentee landlords, we hated paying that mortgage even more. Now, we don't have to do either one!!!

Now for the tacky details... We certainly didn't make a killing on the house, not that we expected that we would.

We got back about as much as we put into it-- the cost of two buckets of paint and some nifty Container Store shelves, which is just fine by me.

WFMW: It Never Hurt to Ask...

I'm a first time participant in WFMW...

I enjoy reading the entries each week. A few times, I've even wanted to jump in, but then I wondered, "Will they think my idea is dumb? dated? OBVIOUS?"

I would fret and fret and fret...

Next thing I know, it's Thursday and time to work on my haiku for Friday (which I haven't actually done in a while... eek!)

Well, something impressive happened the other day that I just had to share with the world, and it was all my dad's doing.

A few weeks ago, we had to rush my son to the children's hospital emergency room. He's had a history of allergies, skin eczema, and now... asthma.

He was having a bad attack, but thanks to my mom's connections he was treated immediately and recovered quickly. I paid my co-pay and took him home. We haven't had any issues since. (Thank God!)

I had finally put the entire terrifying experience out of mind when I received a bill from the hospital. I was completely clueless as our entire visit was supposed to be covered. There wasn't even a hospital stay and my mom was the referring physician...

Since my dad deals with medical insurance professionally, I turned it over to him and his assistant to contend with. He put in a call to sort out exactly what was (and wasn't) covered and it turns out the bill was, indeed, correct.

Then, he asked if they would offer me DISCOUNT if I paid the bill in full that day...

Wha? Seriously???

Yup. If you actually take the time to call, you too can get a 25% discount with Blue Cross/Blue Shield for services rendered. Bravo, Daddy!!!!

Try it out sometime. It works for me!

What? No corn syrup dipping sauce?

I promise I not to become a snotty ex-pat, constantly ranting about the Euro and how far superior life in Europe is in comparison to the United States...

But there are just some things that are so quintessentially "American" that I am quite all right with leaving behind.

Such as...

We so are the fattest country in the world, aren't we....

Chipmunk Cheeks!

It's been three days since the wisdom teeth were pulled and the swelling in my cheeks is still pretty bad.

The photo to the right accurately shows what I look like today. Yeah. NOT pretty...

I'm home now. I'm still living on chocolate pudding, soups, and pain meds (not by choice), but at least I get to recover in the comfort of my very own tree trunk.... er, bed...

Unfortunately, Hubby isn't doing very well either. He's been sniffily, sneezy, runny, and coughy-- the same way I was a few weeks ago...

It's basically the same allergic reaction that's ushered in by the slightest of seasonal change in Texas. It seems like we go through this every few weeks, except, unlike me, my husband refuses to take anything for it...

It's not as if my doctor mom doesn't keep our cabinets stocked with a fine selection of antihistamine and decongestant samples. They're always on hand, but he'd rather keep both of us up all night with his wheezing and coughing than just take one stinkin' Claritin...

When I lamented this to my mother-in-law while we were staying at her house this week, I chalked it up to his "maleness" and asking if his brothers are the same way. She tartly replied, "Oh, WE never take medication..."

Okay, so maybe it's not a "guy thing" after all. Just another "in-law thing"...

This Bites

So, I got an e-mail from my other sister-in-law announcing that she and my brother-in-law are expecting baby number three. The e-mail also stated, "yes, it was planned" and "no, she has not been feeling fine"...

While not nearly to the level of obnoxiousness as my hateful little conversation with a "Sister-in-law A", it just adds to the feeling that everyone else's life has it goin' on while ours sinks further in the dumps.

First, there's Hubby's recent job loss, then the matter of the lousy unemployment benefits, the sick toddler, and... oh yes, the horrible pain of my wisdom teeth disrupting my otherwise peachy existence...

On the bright side, my oral surgeon father-in-law has graciously offered to extract my wisdom teeth at the "family and friends" discount of no cost at all. The catch is we have to drive to Oklahoma to his office and stay with them for a bit while I recover, but that won't be too bad.

I do have some reservations about being left alone with my father-in-law while being put under with the gas (or "truth serum", as he calls it). According to him, people tend to let loose and go on and on about stuff you know they would never in their right minds say to another soul.

He says he's used it, but he's never had ME for a patient...

My father-in-law is all right, but I had to warn Hubby that I harbor quite a bit of... um, shall we say, unkind feelings towards some his other family members. (gee, I wonder why.) I just make a conscious effort NOT to act upon it. However, it's still right there... just beneath the surface.... just waiting for an oppertunity to come out.

Oh, and I use the f-word a lot in my head.

Is the Doctor in?

When I was sick a few weeks ago, I realized it would probably be a good idea for Hubby and I to have a primary doctor...

I usually depend on my pediatrician mom for (free) medical care, but even she has been prodding me to "grow up" and find my own doctor already...

Hubby was kind enough to make all of the arrangements for me at a local clinic (and offer to stay with the tyke while I went). It was one of those places with a number of family doctors and specialists on staff. I was fine with seeing any of them, provided they could see me THAT day...

I didn't bother to get the specifics of who I was seeing-- just a name, a time, and a location, and off I went. I paid my co-pay, flipped through some outdated magazines, and finally met with... the nurse practitioner?!

Okay, let's just say that my concerns weren't exactly properly addressed and I had to come back for a second visit. That meant taking my son along and paying a second co-pay, so this time I asked to see the DOCTOR!

Not wanting to offend anyone, I was polite and discreet with my request. The receptionist, however was not. She simply said:

"Seeing the nurse is just as good as seeing the doctor... Besides, you didn't sound sick enough to see the dooooo-ctor, but I'll go on and squeeze you in today..."

"Ermmm, thanks, but not in my experience..."

I'm no medical professional here, but if I had just gone through 4 years of schooling, followed by another 6 years, followed by life as an intern, resident, etc... Spent all of that time studying for exams, boards, and licenses. I would be a tad miffed and insulted by that comment.

Furthermore, who is the receptionist to be assessing my medical condition (over the phone, no less) and determining whether or not I was "sick enough".

I was sick enough to call. I was sick enough for me and my insurance company to pay someone to examine me. In my book, that's sick enough.

I've noticed that this exact same thing happens at my son's pediatrician. His doctor only sees us if it's a well-check or if she happens to have time. Otherwise, we're sent to her nurse, whose advice the doctor usually contradicts at our next well visit anyway...

My husband and I both grew up in medical families, with each of us having one doctor-parent. Doctor-parents who have been practicing medicine for so long that they still have their "house call" bags, which they still use on occasion. We're talking old school...

As you can imagine, growing up with doctors in our immediate family, there was little reason for Hubby nor I to seek medical attention outside of our home. However, we did get to witness first-hand how a medical practice ought to be run.

My mom, as I mentioned, is a pediatrician. She sees all of her own patients, personally answers all of her own calls, and makes a point of getting to know the families. When people make an appointment with her office, it's an appointment to see her.

This is the only way I've ever known for doctor visits to be and I obviously don't know much about the "state of modern medicine", so please forgive my ignorance.

I don't mean to belittle nurses, but I just want to know...

When did nurse practitioners start taking the place of doctors? Furthermore, when did doctors stop having time for their patients... even the ones they consider "minor cases"?

Numbers Lie

When I signed up for "fitness boot camp" five weeks ago, I envisioned the weekly updates about the crazy "Biggest Loser" weight that I'd surely be ditching. Except that so far, I have lost NONE, according to my scale!

That's right! Not... A... Single... POUND!

"Yes, but do you find that you have more energy?"

"Have your clothes started fitting better?"

"Do you feel good about yourself?"

Not really. In fact, I've mostly just felt tired and gross, moody and gross, fat and gross.... oh, yes and a complete failure.

Besides I don't actually CARE about any of that crap. Is there room on an drivers' license for "...but her clothes fit REALLY well"?

Nope.

This is a NUMBERS game, people, and I am one very vain little monkey who needs the affirmation. I could really use some gratification for getting out of bed and into the gym by 6 am... every stinkin' day!

Well, on a lark, I wandered into Banana Republic this weekend. I haven't even gone into a Banana Republic in about four years... not since I was a Size 4, maybe 2 on a good day. It's just too depressing when they don't carry "anything larger"...

However, yesterday I felt strong enough to take it. I just grabbed a dress in my usual frumpy, dumpy size (in other words, the largest size they carry in the store) and braced myself for the rejection as I headed for the dressing room...

When I put it on, it was TOO BIG... and so was the next size down... and the next.

Can it be? Surely this is a LIE. I can't have gone down THREE SIZES?!

Yet, the smaller dress fit... and rather puuuuurrrrrr-fectly, I might add. I almost started crying right there in the dressing room... except not for the reasons I usually want to cry in dressing rooms.

I don't even care if it's only vanity sizing (which I'm sure it is). I just want to kiss the marketing genius that MADE MY DAY! I was so happy, I bought the dress even though I really couldn't afford it... Heck, I brought two dresses I really couldn't afford!

Marketing genius, you deserve a raise.

Oh, but just to confirm that it really was me, and not just the labels, I tried on this dress at Ann Taylor, too:

Yep, also fit... three sizes smaller. Told you I was a vain little monkey.

Lent and Other Forms of Penance...

Yesterday was Ash Wednesday and the question of the day was...

What are you giving up for Lent?

In the past, I've tried doing something more for Lent, rather than giving something up. Avoiding soda just doesn't seem to have the same impact as being more charitable or letting go of anger...

One year, I gave up ragging on my roommates. At the time, I lived with three other girls in a tiny college apartment. Things would get pretty catty, so that Lent I decided to do my part to stop it.

Surprise. Surprise. Things got easier to deal with when I stopped taking everything so personally or cataloging every misdeed to anyone that would listen... To this day, we are all still friends and I learned an important lesson about being more easy-going.

Well this year, I am giving up the sauce, people. I mean it. Stop laughing.

Wine. Martinis. I never really cared much for beer, but I'm giving that up too. I'm shelving it all 'til Easter. I'm not even going to "cheating" on Sundays.

Why?

No reason in particular. I just thought it would be a good idea to practice some moderation in my life. To be around something and not automatically consume it in large quantities. Why not start with the booze?

Oh beautiful, sanity- restorative drug of choice.

On that note, it's probably not a bad idea to use this time to find other ways to detox (so to speak) at the end of a stressful day...

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As for my other form of penance.... I signed up for fitness boot camp earlier this week. That New Year's resolution of getting fit in '08...

Yeah well, I was going strong for the first two weeks of the year. Weak Abs are so '07 and all. By Week Three, I started to fizzle. I would go the gym to attend classes, but not much else. I guess I set my standards too low by "just showing up". I wasn't pushing myself and started missing classes to sleep in... staying up way too late... eating lots of crappy stuff... Basically, back to my old habits, again.

One of my friends suggested hiring a personal trainer together and splitting the cost, so I looking into it, getting jazzed once more. Unfortunately, she and I couldn't make a time work for both of us, but the trainer told me about this boot camp starting in two days...

It's TWELVE weeks of 6 am workouts, 5 days a week with a former Army drill sergeant. Yeah, I was intimidated, too, but my lame-o trips to the gym were starting to be a waste of time. I need a kick in the pants. I need someone to tell me what to do and hold me accountable. I need to lose 40 pounds.

So here I am again. Today is Day Three. I'm sore. I'm tired. I want to die. I think that's a good sign.

Oh, and the drill sergeant. HOTNESS. That's not bad either.

Weak Abs are So '07

...or so the instructor kept yelling this morning. Followed by, "Stronger and leaner in '08, People. Stronger and leaner..." If I could have caught my breath for a sec, I would have used that moment to smack her.

Okay, not really... I just thought my heart was going to explode, but it didn't and I'll probably go back tomorrow, bright and early.

It's been a bit over a week, but I've been doing well with my New Year's resolution of making it to the gym on a regular basis. I've tried several classes and enjoyed most of them...

Let's just say, I'm not really a yoga kinda gal, but I'm keeping an open mind and learning a lot. Most importantly, that I can do this! I really and truly can do this!

Letting go of other stuff in my life has made a huge difference in my attitude. Minimizing the "distractions" has allowed me to quiet my mind and focus on the Savasana-- no matter how much I'm itching to leave class early...

So, working out? Not too bad.

Healthy, sensible eating, however? That's been the trickier side of the "weight loss equation"... and not nearly as pleasant. I've been eating whatever (and how ever much of it) I wanted for much too long and my body has gotten used it... nay, demands it.

I've been fighting off the cravings, the crankiness, and the constant hunger. I'm irritable and obsessed with food. Whether it's reminding myself that I'm not really hungry, counting calories, or trying to decide which is better- less fat/lower sodium/more fiber/etc., I'm thinking about food ALL THE TIME now.

Last weekend, I ordered some yummy low-fat, high-fiber granola pancakes for brunch. The waitress set them down in the middle of our table and my husband started mindlessly covering them with butter.

BUTTER! "Full fat, another million miles on the treadmill" butter. Well, I flipped out and demanded he stop it, right now!!!

Okay, so I believe my actual words were, "OMG, STOP IT! Order you own damn pancake if you want to smear butter something, but hand off MY FOOD, Buddy!"... or, you know, something like that.

The "Weak Abs '07" me could have cared less about a few extra pats of tasty butter, but the "stronger and leaner in '08" me only saw the extra rolls of fat coming my way. I couldn't help it. It's like a curse and it sucks!

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On another note, it's official. Swimsuits have been spotted at Target. While I'm not the least bit surprised, I saw them for myself last night. An entire section devoted to teeny bikinis...

I was there looking for some basic cotton workout shorts that: A) will cover my sizable ba-donka-donk, and B) don't cost $50...

I walked around the entire store and didn't find any. Not one pair of sensible workout shorts in the entire store!

Now, how do they ever expect me to fit into one of these,

...if I can't be properly attired to get on one of these?
I mean, seriously. Why have swimsuits in JANUARY, but no shorts, Target? Why?

Happy New Year!

My 2008 started off with a "who-hoo", wadda'bout you?

We were fast asleep before midnight, but I didn't mind. I've come to terms with the fact that I'm not really that into "New Years" and I'm totally okay with it. In fact, I was up bright and early today for a 90 minute spinning class. See, I'm already doing good with my one obligatory resolution!

As I had mentioned before, I hadn't planned on making any huge resolutions this year. I like to think of my life as being in a constant state of improvement and planned to continue in that direction.

Then, I was feeling so feakin' great climbing all of those imaginary hills that I was supposed to be envisioning (and 90 minutes is a REALLY long time to hang out on a stationary bike) that I started wondering why I didn't make time for this before... Why am I always so "busy"?

Well, there's the perpetual housework, our "ten-parties-in-two-weeks" social life, my sick need to host every baby shower or major family function (and host it well), and run every group I belong to... and so forth.

It came down to this... I NEED TO LET IT GO!

As I was spinning away, I came up with a few more resolutions. I realized that the housework wouldn't be so monstrous if we hosted fewer parties or bought less stuff in 2008. (In fact, that would even help my other goal of staying within our household budget for once... hmmm...) Most of the mess around here is dust and clutter. Get rid of the clutter, get rid of the mess and dust. Brilliant!

I was really sad about not hosting as many parties. I love hosting parties... and, dare I say, am quite the rock star at it too, but realistically, at this point in our lives, we don't have time for polishing silver, stuffing deviled eggs, and digging wax out of candle holders when there's a toddler begging us to play at the train table with him. In the long run, playing with trains is probably more important anyhow.

I also plan to do less for other people. Yes, you read that correctly. Do less for others. I find that I do a lot of pointless things in the interest of pleasing others... Of course, I'm taking about doing the things that aren't from the heart and end up making me feel put upon and stressed.

Things like offering to host a cheesy "Southern Living at Home" party at my house, because one of the playgroup mommies saw the spring catalog on my coffee table and said she's love to go to one of those. Of course, I got the catalog at another party my neighbor threw earlier in the week. She would get a discount on anything she buys if I had my own party... Next thing I know, I'm booking something on the 22nd that I'm dreading all so two people can spend more money.

While I was on that bike this morning, it occurred to me that I didn't even like any of the stuff they were selling in the catalog and since I'll be doing with less, I decided to just cancel the party. Eureka!

Isn't one of the benefits of regular exercise clearer thinking? Well, the proof of that is right here!

In 2008, I will focus on things that are real-- spending quality time with our REAL friends, getting REAL results in terms of my fitness, and all the things that REALly matter.

Happy New Year!

Obligatory New Year's Resolution Post

I wasn't planning on making any huge resolutions for the coming year. In fact, it was mostly supposed to be more of the same... spend less money/mind the budget better, come up with better systems to keep the house tidier, do less nagging...

That is until I uploaded some holiday photos and happened upon one where I'm the FATTEST person in the picture. Normally, this wouldn't have phased me much except that the other two people in the picture JUST HAD FULL TERM BABIES within the past 12 weeks...

Insistent that I was just being hyper self-critical or it was just a bad angle or something, I clicked through a few more photos from that same evening...

Umm... nope, unfortunately I really am a LARD ASS and something must be done about it. I'm not to only one to think so either. On Christmas Day, I opened up a "Body Minder Workout and Exercise Journal" from my personal-trainer-to-the-stars sister-in-law. She meant well, but the message was loud and clear...

Hmmm, looks like there's room for one more resolution...and NO, I will not be posting the photo online.

Will anyone else be rockin' it at the gym with me in '08?

Scavenger Hunt

The heat in Dallas has been officially classified as OPPRESSIVE this week, so what better activity to do with about 20 of your girlfriends than a...

SCAVENGER HUNT!!!!!!

This was my first time to participate, so I had no idea what to expect. The invitation said wear running shoes, bring a camera, and meet at the playground, but not much else.

My first thought upon reading this was, "buuuut, it's sooooooo HOT! Do I reeeeeeallly have to run around...OUTSIDE? I mean, can't we scavenge at... like, the mall? Nordstrom's is having another sale. Isn't that just like scavenging?"

...and yes, it is seriously THAT hot here and the whining is completely justified.

I probably would have skipped the scavenger hunt except that I had heard that it was THE event to attend and I JUST had to be there. So, in spite of the (I repeat for emphasis) oppressive Texas heat, I requested my husband to come home early tonight and I took off for the designated meeting spot.

I never used to think Texas summers were that bad... like when I used to have the luxury of spending the whole day it in a frosty office. See, being stuck at work until 5 pm has its advantages...

Currently, I brave the sweltering heat to run errands with a 24 lbs toddler, who I get to chase AND carry EVERYWHERE... Whoo-hew!

At least, I don't have it as rough as my friends who get to chase after their toddlers and be preggers this summer. One of them was even game enough to show up and actually participate in the scavenger hunt. Now, if that doesn't prove how hard-core this event is, I don't know what does!

She wisely volunteered to be a "driver" as opposed to a "runner" for the game, but still...

IT'S WAY TOO HOT FOR THIS!

I arrived at the park to find several other moms waiting for the coordinator to show up. They were easy to spot in their workout duds and sneakers. As I took my seat among them, I noticed it was a larger crowd than I've seen at any other mom's group event. A few moms I had never seen before, while others I just didn't recognize without their make-up and kids...

We immediately started on "who's kid acted up the worst today?", before moving on to "which husband was the least understanding" and "whose kids are going to get the last two openings in 'Mom's Morning Out'?". Then, it dawned on me why this is THE event of the year...

This scavenger hunt, as simple and cute as it may be, is the only openly competitive outlet most of these moms ever get. Sure, we talk about whose kid is the first to be walking/talking/running for congress, but the day-to-day "victories" are only in the eyes of the beholder. Which is to say, they largely go unrecognized.

I had an inkling that a lot of these women had left lucrative jobs where they were extremely successful to run the house and raise the kids, but as we were dividing up into teams, I found out who among us had been marathon runners or won state at something or other...

You know, before 5 am feedings and the college fund abolished 5 am workouts with the trainer.

I also found out, by the way, who still trains for marathons even after the hubby, chores, and kids. She's the one with the three kids, toned arms, and washboard tummy. She's won the scavenger hunt for years and I secretly wished for her team to lose this year. hee-hee.

These were all very bright, interesting, fun women that are usually reduced to "that mom with the screaming kid" or "oh, don't you get bored at home all day".

For instance, no one ever asks ME about my degree in Existential Phenomenological Psychology or my MBA in Marketing anymore. New people I meet don't care about my nerdy passion for advertising or my fascination with modern art. As soon as I drop the word "mom" in a conversation, I get asked, "oh, so what does your husband do?" like I'm just the hired help.

No matter how interesting I am, to the world I and my fellow scavengers are reduced to "just moms" on a regular basis. However, all that drive and ambition to be the best has to go somewhere...

Once in a while, it gets so tiresome debating the merits of Pull-Ups or what age to start preschool in the never ending battle for "the Mommiest". Once a year, we get to compete for something we can actually win.

And, compete we did. As soon as the coordinator yelled "go" (or maybe it was "hello"), we took off running to collect photos of bus stops, football signs, cows, and the like. My team came up with our strategy early. Picking the zippiest car and fastest camera and hitting places where we could knock out three or four of the items at a time helped... as well as, using the zoom function on the lens.

That American Flag may be about a block away, but you can still see it in the photo, even if it's blurry. It totally counts.

I'd like to say that it doesn't matter who wins or loses and it's just about having fun, but I won't because...

I WON! I won! I won! I won! I won! I won! I won!

Okay, okay. My TEAM won, but I was on the team so I get to gloat about it anyway. We each get our photo in the monthly newsletter, bragging rights for a year, a blue ribbon, and a gift certificate for a much-needed, long-deserved, never-in-the-budget manicure!

Since this is probably the first thing I've won since...

...umm, the science fair in sixth grade, I proudly tacked my #1 ribbon to my bulletin board. I feel totally validated and plan to wear it to parties.

So, what does your husband do?

Well, let me tell you what he DOESN'T do. That's win scavenger hunts! Uh huh, I did. In the middle of August, no less. It was SOOO hot. I almost didn't even go. See, here's the ribbon they gave me.

Who's the Mommiest, now?

I am going to get so fat

So, my latest obsession with Big Love has lead me to my next obsession...

NetFlix.

Ever-late to hop on the bandwagon, my husband and I didn't subscribe until now because we hardly ever watched movies. What with the new baby, my husband's long hours, and adjusting to changing routines... Sigh! We barely had two hours to ourselves, much less time to plunk our rears in front of a screen.

Things have since calmed down a bit. As mentioned before, my husband has been devoting more time to his personal projects, which is great for him but leaves me with some more free time on my hands (once our son gets to bed, of course)...

I wasn't until I found myself making multiple trips to the "evil corporate movie rental giant" in one week, that it became evident that there's a easier (*cheaper*) way! After comparing competitors and a little friendly peer pressure, we signed up for Netflix last weekend and started ranking our favorites... and whadaya' know?! I learned something new and quirky about my husband.

The man LOVES taking surveys. No, really. Apparently, sharing his thoughts and opinions give him the same tingly, dizzy, cross-eyed, excited feeling that I would reserve for the purchase of designer handbag or the perfect shoes... He stayed up until only who knows when one night bequeathing star ratings to film after film, then arranging our queue just so. (Nerd!)

I, on the other hand, generally have trouble waiting for things ordered online to arrive. I'm all about the instant gratification when I purchase something. Since we signed up on a Friday, our first three DVDs weren't sent out until Monday and didn't arrive until Tuesday.

That night, INSTEAD of getting to bed early so I could get to the gym the next morning.... we watched... Nay! DEVOURED the first two episodes of another HBO series, Rome. With the exception of the excessive violence and grossly gratuitous T and A, I was digging the storyline and costumes... until this one line given at towards the end of Episode Two:

Caesar is in Italy! Caesar is in Italy!

Ummmm, Italy didn't become "Italy" until its unification in the late 1800's. Prior to that, the Italy as we know it now was comprised of various city states and kingdoms... Caesar actually crossed the Rubicon into Province of Gallia Cisalpina (today’s northern Italy), which no general with his armies was allowed to do at the time. Hence the term, "Crossing the Rubicon", means going past the point of no return. Thank you, liberal arts education and semester in Rome. You never fail me.

Yes, I am a NERD too. For some reason that really irked me and since we all know how it ends (ahem, spoiler alert: Rome falls), I returned the DVD right away and shoved the rest of the series further down our queue.

The next day, instead of doing crunches during my son's nap like I promised myself I would... I devoured another movie, Maxed Out, a documentary on America's personal and national debt. Forget about horror films. I don't really like them anyway. Stuff like this is what really keep me up at night... and thus preventing me from getting to the gym at the only time that I can-- very early in the AM.

I can already feel my butt widening.

Now, we're ready for summer

Swimsuit season is fast approaching and especially for those of us living in Texas, it's coming soon that you think...

My friend's community pool and water park is opening in two weeks and I desperately needed something to wear...

I didn't buy a swimsuit at last year's sales because I was determined that the post-pregnancy weight gain was temporary and this time next (this) year, I would be back in my old swimsuit that used to make my husband's head spin.

HA! Not even close, sister.

Rather than deal with the inevitable emotional roller coaster brought on by the glare of department store florescent lights on my flab and stretch marks as I reject one swimsuit after another, I did what any respectable woman would do...

I took my measurements and bought swimsuit off the Internet... Ta-da!

On LandsEnd.com, to be exact.

Sure, that may be where your grandma buys her swimwear, but who are we kidding...

It requires a considerable amount of fabric to cover this considerable behind and no over-priced, skimpy J.Crew swimsuit, with its string for "support" tops and Kleenex-sized bottoms, will do.

Oh, there were grandma suits to be had for sure, but I picked out two tankinis- fun, yet modest enough to chase after my son without a boob or stomach flab falling out. One was even on sale- whew-hew!

I was pleasantly surprise when the package arrive this afternoon. The one on sale was a bit tight getting on, but fit just fine and the other was puuuuur-fect.

The bottom is still on back order, but the top looks awesome. It's fitted at the bust and flares out a bit on the sides, gracefully skimming the pudge in a non-obvious, slimming way.

It's just like something I would wear on a night out. Maybe I just will.... hmm.

Here's a photo of it....

...from the Lands End website. Like I would really post a photo of me in a swimsuit online. HA!

Update from Lands End:

Dear GHD,

I’m writing on behalf of Lands’ End online and was wondering if you’d be interested in working with us to help your readers find the perfect swimsuit. I recently came across your “Now, we’re ready for summer” post. I’m so glad that you were able to find two swimsuits that you liked and that fit so great. From my own experience, I definitely know that this is not always so easy.

At Lands’ End, we understand the anxiety that comes with shopping for a swimsuit. Our research indicates that 78 percent of women confess to feeling anxious and self-conscious in how they look in their swimsuit, while nearly 82 percent of women stated they feel as though others “judge” them when in a swimsuit. To help, Lands’ End has created the following products and tools for women to find the most comfortable and stylish suit for their specific body type:

Lands’ End Swim Finder: With hundreds of swimsuits available online, the Swim Finder narrows down the search through distinct personalized criteria: Suit Style, Bra Style, Anxiety Zones, Body Shape, Suit Color, Fit and Collections. Based on the input, Swim Finder then selects the best swimsuits to fit, flatter and offer up beachside confidence.

Suit Variety and Choice: From Slenderizing suits to a full range of swimsuit sizes, including regular, petite, long torso (sizes 6-18) and plus (sizes 16W-26W), Lands’ End has a suit for every woman.

Custom Suits: Lands’ End offers women the perfect way to ensure they feel confident on the beach or poolside with Custom Swimsuits. Tailor-made to fit each woman’s one-of-a-kind body, the custom made suit can be created in three easy steps by visiting www.landsend.com/customsuit.

Personal Shopping Assistants: Shopping assistants are not just for celebrities. Lands’ End offers a variety of expert shopping services, free of charge. Professional Swim Fit Experts, each with more than 500 hours of training, take calls 24 hours a day, offering swimwear fit tips, advice and suggestions.

To help you and your readers gear up for swim season, I’d like to invite you and your readers to submit questions to Michele Casper, Swim Fit expert and former stylist for Lands’ End, about finding the right swimsuit. Michele will provide expert advice and tips to combat swimsuit anxiety and help your readers feel more confident this summer.

I’d love to work with you on this, so please let me know if this sounds interesting. If you have any questions or concerns, please feel free to get in touch anytime.

Warm regards,

Marjie Trautt

marjie.trautt@fleishman.com

Fleishman-Hillard

You heard her ladies, they want your questions. Feel free to post your swimsuit questions here!

Confident and Empowered

I had no sooner clicked "Publish" on my recent post about my mommy style (or lack thereof) when I plopped on the sofa, turned on the TV, and saw a new commercial for Suave, a company whose recent tag line is: "say yes to beautiful without paying the price"...

You may have seen it too. It shows a woman going through the stages of her life all the way to motherhood. As the years past pregnancy go by, you see her looking more and more degenerate... but not too much. This is a commercial trying to sell you stuff, after all, and we all know ugly doesn't move hair products.

Following this montage, in big, red, bold letters, the ad copy reads: "89% of moms admit to letting themselves go". Humph!

But, no worries... they have shampoo and conditioner to help you get "yourself back". Unless this magic potion of theirs can do something about the stretch marks and about losing 40 pounds, I'm not buying it.

In searching for a video clip to post, I happened upon something more intriguing on the company website-- a link to the Hot Mom's Club.

It's a WHOLE website dedicated to "bringing mothers together who refuse to fall into the stereotype of the typical American 'mom' category"... and all things a hot mom would be interested in.

In light of the recent blows working moms and SAHMs have taken the last few weeks... months... lifetime, it was nice to see something that was all about the "yea! mom! You go, Girls".

We mommies- at home or at work- need that kind of encouragement sometimes. Don't you agree?

Mom Jeans, I declare a war on you

I am the youngest mom in playgroup by about a decade, and my new book club is no different.

I attended my first meeting of the mommy book club yesterday evening... After a day of rough housing and changing diapers, I came dressed casual, but cute. I put on make-up and kitten heels, brushed my hair, and dabbed some perfume.

As for the other mommies... let's just say, I spied some "mom jeans" in action.

While I am okay with being the "young one" in the group, I'm not sure if I'm comfortable with being the "young, hot mom" in the group. That just sounds like an aweful lot of pressure...

While no one actually commented on my outfit, I'm sure it just seemed like I was trying too hard... Oh well. I simply refuse to let motherhood cramp my style-- whatever that may be.

Of course, I've run out of the house wearing sweats and beat up sneakers more often than I'm willing to admit. There have even been the days when I totally meant to stop by the gym on the way home, but ended up running a bunch of errands looking like crap. Inevitability, those are the days I run into someone that I wish I hadn't. Eek!

Some days, I just enjoy dressing up and looking lovely again. I remember when I used to have all the time in the world to shop for clothes, shoes, and make-up... I would actually practice new hairstyles from magazines, instead of winging it at the last minute. I even used to starch and iron my clothes... These days my ironing board and iron are simply remnants of a bygone era.

Be prepared to gag as I reveal this to you... but I actually invested in matching underwear and by "matching" I mean to my outfits in addition to each other.

While I was pregnant, I asked my husband to make room for my maternity clothes by moving some of my old pant, skirts and fitted blouses from the "Size 4" days to the third bar of our closet. This was supposed to be a "temporary move" until my inner skinny girl emerged once more.

My son will be a year old in a month and they are STILL on that third bar-- collecting dust. I look up there occasionally and guesstimate that there is at least $1,000 in purchases and alterations hanging up there... IN BLACK PANTS alone.

Oh, cute pants and blouses how I miss you!!!

When I went back to work, I bought enough new (fat) clothes so that my co-workers didn't mistake me for a disheveled, homeless person. Again, when I started staying home, I invested in some more cotton shirts... but NO MORE!

I refuse to buy one more stitch of clothing until I can wear my old duds again. Although my personal trainer(s) claim that I can do it, I don't know...

I wonder if that's the reason why some women end up wearing their "mom jeans" forever. Double-Eek!

For those of you following along...

One of my sisters-in-law is a personal trainer in Santa Monica, California and despite the stereotype, she actually very down to earth... and so are her clients.

I've been meaning to call her since my bad experience with the trainer at my gym and I finally got a chance last night. With the time difference, my son's bedtime is her kids' dinner time...

In the midst the kiddie chaos at her house, she gave me a wealth of info, including some helpful pointers and common mistakes. She even set up an exercise program designed just for ME and promised to follow up with updates. The whole program can be accessed online through her website. Online personal training rocks! After our call, I was totally motivated to get movin'

Unfortunately, I was up too late (being all jazzed and whatnot) and missed my spinning class this morning.... Oh well, I guess there is always tomorrow :-)

For those of you interested in following along, my husband has two younger brothers. Each of them are married with kids, which means I have two... Count'em, one, TWO sisters-in-law. One family lives in California and the other lives three-hours away in the same town as my mother- and father-in law.

My mother-in-law (secretly) always wanted daughters, but instead got daughters-in-law. I'm sure in her fantasies of shopping, getting pedicures, and lunching together, she imaged that her "daughters" would all get along...WRONG!

While I adore and get along just fine with both of them, my sisters-in-law cannot stand each other. Something about conflicting parenting styles or some such... I guess it also doesn't help that our mother-in-law has nicknames for each of them. Strictly behind their backs, of course.

Having opted to breast feed her children past a year old, limit fast food and juice consumption, and generally care for the fitness and well-being of her children, the personal trainer is the "Earth Mother", but I like to call her "Cruchny Munchy". I guess it helps that she lives in Santa Monica and is therefore always up on the newest forward-thinking, environment-friendly, celebrity baby trends.

The other one thinks breast feeding is "icky" and doesn't understand why anyone would do it. (personal choice) She also feeds her daughter junk food and soda by the ton... well, except for the time she completely forgot to feed her daughter dinner and wondered (out loud) why the kid was eating so many lollipops...

Her nickname is the "Make It Easy Mom". Before she had children, I was told that her nickname in the family was simply "the brat". Lovely.

I know it sound like I'm bashing her or taking sides. I'm not. She would tell you all this and more herself if she knew you, as she is unabashedly opinionated and, like me, doesn't care what anyone else thinks of her... These qualities actually make her a very amusing person to talk to.

I just shudder to think what MY nickname could be...

And my motivation comes from...

I met with a trainer at my gym to do a physical assessment and fit test. I learned that I am...

- overweight (duh!)

- not flexible (never have been)

- not doing weight training properly (yeeeesssss....)

- off balance such that muscle groups are overcompensating for others and preventing me from really getting in shape (huh?)

I could have told them all this in more... for free. Then, she ran off before we could discuss the "what now".... So, I'm pretty much freaking out that I will never get in shape unless I put in the big bucks time and a great deal of obsession effort.

She at least pointed out several topics I can read about to help "correct my exercise". I barely have time to read a food label, much less piles and piles of books on a topic I really don't want to know about.

Although I've enjoyed working out regularly the past three weeks, fitness is not a "passion" of mine. It's just something I'm doing to improve my life. To me, it's very much like cooking, which IS a passion of mine". Not everyone enjoys doing it, but we all gotta eat...

It was hard enough to get myself up and OUT the door at 5 am... and now I feel like it's all so pointless.

Safety First

After a very looooooong hiatus, my gym and I are having a much needed "Frienaissance". You see, I would like to get reacquainted with that skinny(-er) girl that I'm hoping still lives inside me. So, two weeks ago, I reinstated my gym membership and started getting up very early every other morning to make it to a spinning class.

My gym is rather pricey for what you get (what gym isn't?), but it's definitely not a meat market. It's large building tucked away behind a grocery store and a Thai restaurant and hidden by some sleepy neighborhoods. Oh, did I mention that I live in the suburbs?? Well, I do, so as you can image the people that are there huffing and puffing next to me are NORMAL. Mostly soccer moms and dads that are just tying to watch a little FoxNews while they get in their 30 minutes of cardio.

The gym my husband I used to belong to back in the day provided memberships to the the likes of... oh the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders, the Desperados Dancers, and a few players from the Dallas Stars and Dallas Cowboys. Yeah... The women would come to the gym in FULL MAKE-UP and wearing their water bras to "work out". It was amazing that anyone got anything accomplished! The best part of working out there, in my opinion, was the Smoothie King located in the building...

Well, the place I go to now is NOTHING like that. Most people are a little frumpy, but working at it. The standard attire is "just-rolled-out-of-bed-but-at-least-I'm-here" and people just mind their own business... sometimes. I have to admit there are always people that stand out, and my spinning class is the best place to find weridos.

Okay, so it's spinning, as in indoor stationary bike riding... but there are folks that come suited up to ride with Lance. Some have special biking shoes. Okay, that's cool. Some wear the all spandex cycling suits. Whatever. Then, there was the one dude that set up towels all around him-on the bike, next to him, under the bike. Okay, I didn't get that one.

But this week, was the first time I ever saw someone wearing a BIKE HELMET in class. I mean, where exactly did he think the stationary bike would be taking him and why did he expect to fall off?

Now, I've been known to fall off gym equipment in my past... and yes, including a stationary bike... but still, who wears a helmet to a spinning class?

Photo by mokolabs