Mar
13
March 13, 2007
The other night I was holding Riley after we got him ready for bed and he was tired and cranky and really whiny and I was murmuring soothing mama things in his ear and his body softened and curled into mine and he burrowed in close and he smelled wild and sweet like clover and I could feel his face pressed against me and I was stroking his back and humming and the room was soft and dark and that’s when he bit the living shit out of my shoulder.
Parenthood! Every day is an adventure.
I can’t seem to adjust to the time change. First of all, it is blowing my nubbly little pencil-eraser-sized brain that it’s so light out at 7 PM. We’re putting Riley to bed at this seemingly absurd hour and wondering if we should cover his windows with aluminum foil or something (“Just like Mama did in high school, sweetie! Would you like a large poster of a nice man named Robert Smith, too?”). I can’t seem to go to bed at my normal time, either. We’ve been staying up late watching all these episodes of “Survivorman” and “How It’s Made” and I feel bloated with weird trivia about how to start a fire using the fluff off your cotton socks and how wire eyeglass frames are bent into shape with computer-programmed robotic arms but the nose pad still has to be attached by hand.
When I finally do go to bed I read a few chapters of World War Z and get thoroughly freaked out and then I dream about zombies all night long. In fact, that book is so eerie I find myself idly thinking about zombies during the day, too. As in, “Hey, I wonder if there are any zombies outside. Let’s just take a look . . . nope, don’t think so. WHEW.”
My god, is anything scarier than zombies? Well, other than zombies carrying really big spiders that they threaten to drop on you (before they devour your brains)? Brrr. Gah.
Oh, and DISTURBING: according to the Death-by-Zombie Risk Calculator questionnaire I am practically walking zombiebait right now. Look:
29%? Gee, why don’t I just paint myself with A-1 and lie down on the front lawn so the zombies can more readily tear the flesh from my body with their soft, rotting teeth?
You know what’s great, though? Having a coworker who takes the whole fending-off-zombie thing totally seriously:
(“Z-hunting times”. Hee.)
ENOUGH ABOUT ZOMBIES. Because I am getting all crawly and itchy and fighting the urge to look out the window. WHAT WAS THAT NOISE oh it was the cat. OR WAS IT? Why is my child biting my shoulder and is he reaching for the A-1?
Mar
12
March 12, 2007
I was just watching the local news and there was a story about a man charged with abusing his four year old son by starving him. The boy was taken into protective custody, and subsequently to the hospital, after police went to his home following a request from CPS. He was so weak he couldn’t sit up on his own. He weighed only 22 pounds.
I can’t even imagine what that child looks like right now. Riley weighs 25 pounds, at 18 months old.
When JB and I saw the footage of this man, his face ducked to avoid cameras, I think we both felt the same thing: a desire to hurt him. I don’t think this guy should get the benefits of our justice system, I think he should be locked in a room with some angry people brandishing heavy weapons, and when his bones are nicely fractured and he, too, is too weak to sit up on his own, then he should be left to starve to death.
I guess that would leave the boy without a father, but really, I don’t think he’d be missing anything good.
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I’m glad you guys weighed in on the remodel stuff, I’m now re-considering the possibility of granite countertops and maybe a nice warm brown or gold or cream or olive or something for the wall colors. Boy, I can’t wait until this work gets underway and I am washing dishes in the bathroom sink and cooking in the garage and the living room is filled with workers and dirt and chaos! Oh wait.
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I’ve been so good on this diet of mine that when I stepped on the scale this morning I fully expected to see some dramatic number reduction. Annoyingly, it read 143, which is exactly what it read last Monday.
I know better than to live or die by the scale but COME ON. I’ve been eating salads. I’ve been eating sugar-free Jello. I’ve been eatings beans (they truly are the musical fruit, by the way) and green vegetables (seriously, this should be called the Ass Trombone Eating Plan) and fat-free cheese, which is, what, thinly sliced vinyl? Are there calories in vinyl?
In honesty I’ve been doing really well with food, sticking with low-calorie, healthy choices that taste good. Well, except for the tastes-like-human Tofurkey a few days ago, but I haven’t made THAT mistake again.
I’ve been exercising, too. I’ve done that Turbo Jam DVD enough now that I can actually do most of the moves, and I don’t even feel like barfing up both my lungs halfway through. Just the one lung. (What, it’s a challenging workout.) I’ve been doing some weights and last night, I shit you not, I did some crunches. For real, I just got down on the floor and did some crunches like a totally fucking crazy person, like some kind of psycho who subscribes to Shape magazine and drinks WATER all day long. Jesus.
My abs hurt today, by the way. Or, whatever “abs” are called when they’re less like muscle and more like veal.
The point is, I really feel that I should be rewarded with some movement on that scale. I do feel like my clothes fit better, and when I look at myself in the mirror there’s some subtle changes happening there, but still, I’d feel much more impressive about the whole endeavor to date if I could also say I lost a few pounds, you know? I know muscle weighs more than fat but doesn’t it take more than a week to build enough muscle density to affect the scale?
I am feeling good about my progress, though, and I feel positive about sticking with it. It was really hard at first, but it seems much easier now that I’ve figured out some meals that work for me. If you’re at all interested in this sort of thing, here’s my list of low-cal foods I’ve been rotating:
• Salads, and lots of them. Bagged greens with cut up cucumbers, mushrooms, and raw cauliflower, tossed with a dressing using a small amount of olive oil and balsamic vinegar, mustard, and a bit of Splenda.
• Weight Watchers “2 pts” cereal with blueberries.
• Beans and rice, rice and beans. With salsa mixed in and sometimes some melted fat-free vinyl.
• Stir fries with lean chicken, baby bok choy, broccoli, water chestnuts, etc.
• Whole wheat pasta with marinara sauce.
• Snacks: sugar-free Jello, 100-calorie popcorn packs (with Splenda and salt dumped on top), apples, bananas, Weight Watchers mini chocolate cake thingies.
Those of you who said the hunger lessens after the first week were right. I’m sure my brain was just rebelling to a new regime of portion size and non-junkfood choices (bye bye, Nutter Butters) because I felt barely in control at first and now I’m getting it on like Donkey Kong, baby.
Anyway! I’ll be sure and give you another thrilling update next Monday, when that scale better display a number lower than 143 or I’m throwing its cheap digital ass out the goddamn window.
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You know, bitching about scale numbers aside, life is pretty good these days.
Well, except maybe for Dog. God, won’t anyone pay attention to her?
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