Alright already

Today, Costco finally talked me into upgrading to an Executive membership.

I checked to see how much I spent during the year when I renewed back in November. The total: $4,700. I didn't think it was possible until I did the math. $4,700 divided by 12 months is $391.66. I know that at least $100 of that is gas. So, it's entirely possible I'm spending $291 a month on food and a few other various things. What can I say? I'm easily seduced by bulk items.

I didn't rush right back to upgrade. I have a stick it to the man attitude and I don't know why, but I felt like I was sticking it to Costco by not doing it. I wasn't going to upgrade just because they said I should. I held out for a couple more months. Until today, because...oh, I don't know. I guess I finally got curious enough to see if I actually do spend enough to earn the refund. So, game on Costco. Game on.

Delusional

I've been trying to tell myself for the past few years (since after Peyton was born) that I really don't look that different than I did before I had kids. Yes, I have the mom muffin top, (which is shrinking again thanks to my renewed exercise program and calorie counting) but I kind of thought that was it. Wrong. So very wrong.

I was looking at old pictures last night and finally saw and acknowledged the truth. I look nothing like I did before I had kids. I'm lumpy and roly-poly and squishy and gross. Like, everywhere. Picture the Michelin man and you should get an idea of what I look like. I don't even look anything like I did after having just one or two. It's crazy how fast and how much my body has changed. (Then there's Ryan who has been the size he is now since he was 15. And he'll probably stay that size for most of his life. Jerk. It's a good thing I love him.) It depressed me for about 30 seconds and then it motivated me to try harder. I think I'm going to hang up (in my bedroom, out of public view) pictures of my pre-kid self and pictures of me now. I know that I will never look exactly the way I did before, but I'm going to try to get as close as I can. I don't want to be lumpy for the rest of my life.

Decade

Today Tyler is 10 years old.

Happy Birthday Tyler! I love you very much. Even when you're a turd. ☺

I'm attempting to hold myself accountable for what I eat

I've decided I need to start keeping a food journal. I'm going to write down every.single.thing. I eat. Everything. Even if it's just one saltine cracker. If I put it in my mouth, I'm going to write it down. I've been pretty good about keeping myself in check for the past couple of weeks, but I'm sure actually seeing it in writing will help me even more.

I've decided to keep myself to between 1700-1800 calories a day. That's not on the advice of anyone. It's just an amount I came up with that sounded good. I'm only counting calories. I'm not even going to begin worry about fat, sodium, sugar, etc. I'm sure I should, but I need to first focus on the calories. Worrying about the rest will come later.

I've been making much better food choices. I'm not filling up on empty calories. I've been very conscious of making healthy food choices. Except for the D♥ Pepper. Once in a while isn't going to kill me. I had one on Saturday because we went out with friends. And that's just fine. Totally depriving myself just doesn't work. A little "treat" once a week is just fine.

I haven't felt deprived or hungry at all with the amount I've been eating. I truly hope I stick with this because I really have felt great. It's just as annoying to me, as it is to most ☺, that diet and exercise are the answers. But if I want to look and feel better, it's what I have to do. Oh, and I have to do it for the rest of my life. Sigh.

I HATE THEM

First of all, sorry to all you cat lovers out there. I mean no offense, but you can keep your cats to yourself. Thank you very much.

I hate cats. Like, I despise them with every fiber of my being. I hate the way they look. So, why did I include a picture of one? I don't know. Just looking at it is making me physically sick. Oh, and before anyone says, "but what about kittens? Kittens are soooooo cute." Fine. Kittens are sort of cute. I can admit that much. The problem is that they grow up into cats.

I hate the way they sound. There is NOTHING more disgusting than the sounds a cat makes when in heat. Or when fighting with another one. That's gross too. Or when they purr. Or when they meow. I guess I hate the way they sound all around.

I hate they way they move. They are not graceful and majestic. They are sneaky and evil. Oh, and they way they move when in heat!? Don't even get me started on that.

I hate the way they smell. Do I really need to say anymore about that?

I hate the way they shed.

I hate the way they feel. I can't stand to pet a cat. I can't stand feeling their spines, or the bones in their tails. Shivers are running up and down my spine right now, just thinking about touching a cat.

My next door neighbors have multiple cats. Cats that they leave out to roam all the time. Cats that are constantly breeding with each other and producing more cats. Cats that come into my yard and crap in my garden or planter. There are freaking cats everywhere.

Currently, there's one that's especially brave. If it's around when we open the door, it will try to dart into our house. It has no fear and doesn't run when you try to scare it away. In fact, it actually tries to get ME to PET it.

It was hanging around in our backyard when we got home from church yesterday. Ryan tried to chase it off, but it wouldn't go more then a few feet away from the door. So, we all ran inside and prayed it would just go away. I obsessed for the rest of the night over the idea of that darn cat sitting outside my door just waiting for the opportunity to get in. I obsessed so much, I dreamed about cats all.night.long. STUPID CATS WERE IN MY DREAMS ALL NIGHT. I'm really angry about it.

I'm getting what I wanted

Disneyland - September 2009

I think my desire to have Peyton love me more than Ryan has been well documented here. It's made me crazy that he refuses to be a momma's boy and would take hanging out with his dad over me any day. It's not fair. He's my last baby. He should let me baby him and smother him and hold him forever. But nooooo. He's been too independent for that. Stinker.

Well, the winds of change have been blowing around here. Peyton finally loves MEEEEEEE!

Like, he prefers me over Ryan. He thinks I'm fun and he wants to spend time with me. Hooray!Take that, Ryan. I'm happy about it and all, but...well, he's almost loving me to death. He's the one who's been smothering. He's the one who has been clingy. I'm getting what I wanted, but I'm almost getting too much. Take that, Christa.

It's been building gradually. I would say he's been warming up to me more and more over the last month. He started by giving me hugs and kisses. Real ones. He's never been one to do that. If I asked him to do it, he would say, "I don't kiss." Or, "I don't hug." He does it freely now and without prodding. That part is nice. What isn't nice is the clinging. For example, he's been following me all around the house for the past 3 days. ALL.DAY.LONG. Wherever Christa goes, there goes Peyton. He whimpers and says, "I hold you! I hold you!" Translation: "Mom, hold me all day and never put me down and don't even try to do anything but hold me." It's been very tiring. He's 2, he's kind of heavy to be carrying around all day. Plus, he's kind of wiggly and doesn't hold still while I'm holding him. He climbs all over me like I'm his own, personal jungle gym. He doesn't want to take naps. He doesn't want to go to bed at night. He doesn't want to play. He just wants to be with me. Always. I'm too independent for that.

I guess the moral of this story is the old saying, "be careful what you wish for". Sometimes, when you get it, it bites you in the butt.

Now, you have to know that I really do love this. However, if he doesn't ease up a little on the loving and do it soon, I might lose it.

It's like crack, but brown & bubbly & delicious

It's finally time for me to admit that I fell off the Dr. Pepper wagon. I think it happened back in October. I had a big, fat, monster headache that no medicine would touch. It was hideous. Tylenol...nothing. Excedrin...zip. Ibuprofen...zilch. All were a joke. I finally caved and bought a fountain drink. It was absolute heaven. It eased my headache within an hour and I felt fantastic. (I didn't care if the effect was pshcyosomatic . I just cared that the headache went away.)

I swore that I would be done with it after that. I had been doing so well, I didn't want to have an all out relapse. Well....ummmm....I got another headache a week later. I feared having the pain get as bad as the previous one. I rationalized that one every once in a while wouldn't be so bad. Especially if for medicinal purposes. So, I guzzled one down. It was just as delicious as the first. That led to another a week later and another the week after that. None of them were to treat a headache. I had them because I wanted them. Now, here I am in January and I'm back to being a Dr. Pepper slut. I don't drink it every day. Just once a week or so and I have to say that I'm finally okay with that. I've come to the conclusion that total deprivation isn't the way for me. If I deprive myself, I over indulge and that's worse than simply having one every once in a while. I'm not trying to justify anything to anyone. Including myself. I just thought it was time to state that I ♥ Dr. Pepper and there's nothing wrong with that.

48 Hours

I took an approximately 48 hour break from laundry for no other reason than I was feeling lazy and didn't want to do any. I didn't do any on Monday or Tuesday. Two short days. That's it. I didn't think it would be too big of a deal. I knew it would build up, but I didn't realize to what extent. Stupid mistake (and I really shouldn't be surprised).

I currently have one load in the washer and 9 more waiting to be washed. 10 loads accrued in 2 days. 10!? How is that possible? Let me tell you how. Each day we have:

• 6 pairs of socks
• 6 pairs of underwear
• 6 pairs of pants
• 6 shirts
• 6 bath towels (plus the kitchen dish towels and wash cloths)

That's the everyday stuff. In 2 days I have enough pairs of pants to make a full load. In 2 days I have enough towels to make a full load. (Yeah. It's weird to me too.) Therefore, I'm washing one or the other of those things, every other day. I wash the kids shirts separately from the adults. Same with their underwear. (Thus, one of the reasons why I have 10 loads to do today.) There was a time when I would have my kids use their bath towels for 2 days in a row in an effort to cut down on towel laundry. Since our lice incident in October, I no longer do that. It's now one use and straight to the wash and washed in hot water. I'm still slightly paranoid.

There's also the random things that always pop up. Like:

• bedding (because of a diaper leak/bed wetting, puking on them)
• extra clothes (because of the same reasons as above)
• anything else the kids decide to make dirty

I guess my longest allowed break is only going to be 12 hours from now on. You know, from the time I stop at night and then go to bed, until the time I wake in the morning and start all over again.

They're beautiful

Ryan fulfilled a dream of mine when he gave me one of these for Christmas. It is a thing of pure beauty. There was a bit of a learning curve involved for the first couple of weeks. I had to get used to the feel of it, but now it is one of my most prized possessions.

He then surprised me with this. The very first time I used it, I adjusted the temperature to hot and then promptly burned the top of my ear. I thought for sure it was blistered it hurt so bad. I've had to learn to dry my hair with a lighter touch because it literally dries it in about a minute and a half. It gets that hot.

35 Years Ago Today

Today is my parent's 35th wedding anniversary. My dad wanted to be different when choosing a date and so, they decided on January instead of June. They were married in the middle of the month and the middle of the week. A Wednesday at 3-ish or so in the afternoon. Just another way to be different. He was 25 and she was 19. One month later, she was pregnant. Six weeks into the pregnancy, she had a miscarriage. When she went in to her doctor, they found another baby. Me. Turns out, there were 2. I was born at the end of November. So, in the space of one year, 1975, they were married, got pregnant with twins, lost one, and had me. A very eventful way to begin a life together.

It's been confirmed

Avery and I fell asleep together on my bed a couple of nights ago. I don't know how long we had been out when she started jabbing me in the shoulder and telling me to be quiet. I couldn't figure out for the longest time why she would want me to be quiet. We were sleeping. How could we not be quiet while sleeping? Finally, she said, "Mom! You're snoring really loud and it's waking me up. BE QUIET!" I've never believed Ryan when he would tell me the same thing because it was Ryan. (What I really mean is I've never admitted to him that I know I snore.) He's always teasing me. However, snoring is not something a 5 year old would lie about. I guess it's finally time to face the facts. So, here we go. Hi, my name is Christa and I'm a snorer.

Less

Okay, I've been really intrigued by the idea of choosing a word to live by for 2010. But.....so many people do it and because of that, I was having a really hard time coming up with a word of my my own. I was going to go with this one, but she beat me to it. I don't want to be a copy cat with my word (I'm fine with being a copy cat on the idea of a word for the year) and so I decided to go with my second choice.

Less

This year I will try my best to yell less, become angry less, eat less, shop less, be defensive less, jump to conclusions less, go to bed late less, be stubborn less, refuse to admit a mistake less, etc. Anything that I do to excess, I will try to do a little less. I'm not going to say that I will stop anything totally. I mean, come on. I'm 34, kind of set in my ways and totally changing them in one year would be impossible. Baby steps will be what works for me.

Be prepared

Ryan gave me a new cookbook for Christmas. So, be prepared to start seeing more recipes from me over at my cooking blog. I just need to tweak them a bit and make them my own before I *sort of* plagiarize them by posting them on my blog. I say sort of because nothing I post is ever posted as it was originally written. It's posted the way I think it should have been written in the first place.

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I did something for Peyton yesterday and he said, "gracias, Mom." I said "denada, Peyton" without even thinking about it. I'm not sure if I responded correctly, but that's how Dora says "thank you" and I'm going to trust her.

Happy Birthday Cameron!

Eight years old already!? I can hardly believe it. I love you and I hope you have an awesome day.

My brothers & I

Can you feel the love?

Happy New Year!

I hope this year is filled with good health, happiness, love, friends, family and safety for all!