Friday, January 30, 2015

Blogging 2015: 148 down, 1867 to go

I'm not sure why I try to make plans. Whenever I make plans, the universe points and says "HA! FOOLISH WOMAN WILL NOW PAY FOR HER ARROGANCE!" in a Russian accent for some unknown reason.

This morning I had a small visitor at 6:30, which was fine because I was getting up anyway. The house was pretty sparse for groceries, so I toasted some waffles and dished the last of the bananas for them.  I had one of the last 2 eggs (seriously, we were down to 2 eggs) and some shoulder bacon.  The applesauce was pretty much the only other thing in the fridge.

Basic.

Today is my first useful day off, in that I'm not stupid tired. So my plan was to take the boys with me to the box for 9:15am, then to the bank, then the carwash, then home for lunch.  After the skills portion of the morning, as I was setting up for the WOD I heard a small voice say "Mommy? I pooped a little in my pants." And sure as shit (see what I did there?) he did in fact have some green slime in his drawers.  Morning. Blown. I feel a little bad for the kid as it was probably one of those stealth poops that sneaks up on you.  A shart if you will. It was contained, but I didn't have a change of clothes for him and as poop is a biohazard I couldn't let him just wander around, sitting on things and contaminating stuff.  So we left.  In the middle of class.  I did not get to do 30 snatches, and that makes me grumpy.

We came home so I could throw away C's drawers and salvage his pants.  I'm sorry.  I do NOT save poopy drawers.  I make a nice living and can afford new underpants.   The boys watched some cartoons, and I had a snack.  I've gotten to the point where I prefer Sunbutter to peanut butter.  It took me a while, but I've come around.  This is one Honeycrisp apple. She was a big 'un.

I realize this is somewhat visually ironic.

When the husband came home I geared up for a run.  We did heavy (for me) back squats for skill work today 3 x 8 rounds EMOM (every minute on the minute).  This means my quads and hamstrings were firing for a while afterwards.  I decided a 3 mile run was plenty on my twitchy ass legs.  It was in fact plenty.  Gorgeous day out today. Just about 20 degrees and sunny.  It was lovely to get some fresh air.
My nose is enormous. WTF?

I have a gigantic nose.  When I was a teenager I used to cry to my mom that I wanted to get it fixed, and I was teased about it mercilessly most of my childhood.  Up to an including some teenaged jackass drawing a picture of me in profile complete with wart and witches hat.  Sad thing is, minus the wart he got the profile right.  It's my mom's nose, only hers isn't quite so fucking huge.

Every now and then someone tells me that I look like Beverly Mitchell.  I vaguely know she was on 7th Heaven (you know that show with the pastor dad who turned out to be a perv?) and I Googled her once to see if it was true.

She has a big nose, too.  I totally get it.


Beverly Mitchell
She has nicer hair, though.


On my run I remembered something important.  I shouldn't eat apples before vigorous exercise.  They make me barfy.  I didn't actually puke, but I got close.

After running and picking up the girl child from her half day of school, I finally worked up the ambition to shower.  Then I washed my car, went to the bank, and headed for Costco.  I may have forgotten to eat lunch.

At Costco I dropped a wad on food, but mostly on this beauty.  I'm so excited that I went into a smoothie recipe pinning frenzy.  Sorry Pinterest friends.  You get to look at a bunch of fancy glasses full of obliterated stuff.  Probably for a while.  I've been waiting for this day for some time.

VITAMIX!!! You complete me.

I will now discard my Black and Decker, the Magic Bullet, and maybe my food processor.  This motherfucker right here?  Will not only make blended soup, but will heat that shit up for you.  One step.  Also?  I went to Costco in my sweatpants.  Like a boss. 

I got my 2015 in 2015 challenge shirt today.  I love a race shirt.  The back says "Make Fit Happen".  I like it.
I will!  I will make fit happen!

I picked up a couple of rotisserie chickens at Costco.  So easy.  So cheap.  Just like your mom. And sprouts.  

I like my veggies with bacon.

Also in the mail today was this stupid thing.  I haven't worn Spanx since I had my twins.  I wore them so I could button my pants without catching a flap of hanging skin in the button hole (yes that happened, and yes it hurt).  BTW-I had all that skin removed surgically (if you didn't know) so that I wouldn't be spending my goddamn paycheck on lycra garments forever.

Because I'm sure she looks way different without the girdle.

I have several problems with this message.  It seems to be saying "Hey, fatty!  Want some ice cream?  Cram your ass into this elastic tube of doom and you can have it!"  The other thing that I don't get is the exclusive use of skinny models in these catalogs.  That chick?  She doesn't need Spanx.  Unless you show me a before in which her intestines are hanging around her knees, I'm not buying that she wears these things.  Show me a chubby chick wearing these bitches and we'll talk.  I want to see how they make someone's saddlebags disappear (hint, it's by squeezing the fat up to her waist or down to her knees).  Look at her!  So carefree! Now she can slip into her size 2 dress and eat chips and guac, because eating until you BULGE is totally cool.

Sweet chocolate Christ.

Tomorrow is CrossFit at 0815, followed by yoga at 1000, followed by a run or walk (depending on the condition of my legs).  Maybe I'll make a smoothie.  Oh who are we kidding.  Of course I'm going to make a smoothie.  I bought 2.5 pounds of spinach for fuck's sake.  I also bought avocados, and I have some peppermint extract in the cupboard.  There may be a paleo shamrock shake in my very near future as well. FYI the paleo shamrock shake recipe can be found at www.PrimallyInspired.com or on Pinterest if you search Paleo Shamrock Shake.  

Maybe I'll make some popcorn.  Mmmmmmm.  Popcorn.  The Vitamix doesn't make popcorn.  Get on that, Vitamix people.



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