We’re all sick around here and it doesn’t look pretty. When I say “sick” I mean all three of us are still wearing pajamas, every horizontal surface in the house is covered with stuff and the floor is littered with toys, sippy cups, and chewed up important documents. Tiny-Small is roaming around with a runny nose getting into trouble with the dogs like a tiny toddler gang or something. Somehow, being sick doesn’t bother her as much as it bothers us “old” people. Once we recover from this illness I might just pack a couple of bags and move out. By then this house will need to be condemned. As you can imagine, I am feeling tired, cranky, and foggy (even more so than usual). I am also looking like death warmed over, Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer, and a mom who just doesn’t care anymore. I know! I didn’t think it was possible for me to put less effort into my appearance, but obviously I have hit a new low and found a new bottom. I have banned all mirrors from the house and avoid going into the kitchen at all costs. The dishes are piling up along with the soup cans, pizza boxes, and unopened mail. Tiny-Small watched her Elmo pets video at least 8 times in a row yesterday while I went in and out of consciousness. I am so grateful her dad was also sick and home to help keep our baby girl alive and out of harms way. This got me thinking about all of the other things I am grateful for on this fine Thursday (or is it Friday, no, it’s Wednesday?) morning. So, I decided to compile a list for your reading pleasure, 1. I am grateful we don’t have the kind of friends that just “stop by” unannounced so nobody can take blackmail photos of me with my red nose, unwashed hair, and pajamas stained with Tiny-Small’s liquid ibuprofen that she decided to spit all over me instead of swallow. 2. I am grateful that I stocked up on tissues, cough drops, and frozen dinners before we all came down with the icky-sicky. At least we don’t have to get dressed and leave the house, stand for more than a few minutes at a time, or use up all of the toilet paper blowing our noses. 3. I am eternally grateful for my Netflix subscription so we have something new to watch besides Elmo. I am also grateful that Tiny-Small can reach the buttons on the DVD player and hit play by herself over and over and over again (never thought I would be grateful for that one). 4. I am grateful for toothbrushes, vaporizing chest rub, and antihistamine. Also, I no longer need ear plugs because my ears are naturally clogged (What? Did you say something?). 5. I am grateful that Tiny-Small doesn’t mind eating snacks instead of real meals, that she can entertain herself (even though she is the messiest mess-maker I have ever laid eyes on), and that she still loves me even though I am like a bump on a log. 6. I am grateful that Jim got sick before me and is in the getting better phase while I am in the middle, I can barely function, phase of the illness that has invaded our home. Even when we are sick we still make a good team. 7. I am grateful for being sick now instead of later when we are going on vacation. I am knocking on all sorts of wood hoping I didn’t just jinks myself into getting sick again. Darn superstitions always get the better of me. 8. I am grateful for the Internet so I can complain to my friends via facebook and they can say nice things like, “Get better soon” and “It’s OK to let Tiny-Small watch a marathon of TV because you are sick.” 9. I am grateful that it has been sort of raining off and on so I don’t have to worry about watering the garden. 10. I am grateful that my illness is not a permanent one and will pass with time. I just wish it would pass a little quicker before Tiny-Small redecorates her room and makes “carpet” from all of the clothes she has removed from her chest of drawers. That’s my list for now. I am trying to be positive and optimistic and happy while sick. It’s an uphill battle and a struggle because I am feeling pretty miserable. I’m just hoping Tiny-Small doesn’t feel as bad as I do.
It finally happened. I went to the gym. I worked out. I know, it’s a miracle of sorts. I am on the road to a slightly better bathing suit body or maybe at least a body that actually fits into said bathing suit. The gym was spectacular. I have to admit that I loved it, but not just for the exercise.
The day of my first gym trip started with a screaming toddler and a cranky(ish) husband. I had scheduled “gym time” into the family schedule and was packing my bag to go when I started to feel a little guilty for leaving my husband alone with the most miserable little girl in the whole wide world. OK, maybe that’s exaggerating, but I am sure she was at least the most miserable little girl in the whole wide county. She was crying over spilled milk, spilled cereal, and spilled blocks. She didn’t like her clothes, her hair, or her diaper. If things were going good for 30 seconds she found fault with something else just so she could cry. She woke up tired and needed a nap, but was not about to take one. I looked at my husband and he said, “Go to the gym.” So, I did.
By the time I drove to the end of the driveway my guilt had melted away and I smiled with my new found freedom from the cranky baby/cranky daddy duo that was likely throwing tantrums and screaming at each other as I drove off into the sunset. It was going to be a fantastic morning and after my workout I had plans for solo grocery shopping. What a novelty! I had plans to linger over the produce aisle and hide behind stacks of cookies while looking at Facebook on my phone. I might even stop for coffee…yeah, I was planning on pushing things a little.
I got to the gym, let myself in and promptly boarded an elliptical machine. I stumbled over the buttons, but finally got it moving and off I went to nowhere fast. I was feeling pretty spiffy and energetic until a 20 something climbed on the elliptical machine next to me and took off like a gazelle. I was huffing and puffing and stumbling my way through my two mile adventure, but I am pretty sure she never even broke a sweat. She should be making commercials for deodorant or maybe for the Olympics. Then, I did a few miles on the treadmill going uphill both ways while I simultaneously listened to a news show on my iPod and watched a movie on the TV screen located directly in front of my face. It’s been so long since I chose something to watch on TV that I almost didn’t remember how to do it. I wasn’t interrupted once by a screaming baby or a husband asking if I knew where the such and such is or complaints that he couldn’t find specified such and such and could I please help him find it. It was bliss.
I know I am supposed to say that I got a runners high or felt completely energized by my workout, but in all honesty my favorite part of my gym experience was the showers. I had the entire bathroom to myself for a full, uninterrupted shower. There were no toys being dropped in with me, not one person ripped the shower curtain back to talk to me, and I didn’t hear my name called even once. I could have stayed in there all day except that would probably seem weird and suspicious to the other gym goers. Plus, I am pretty sure my husband would have called the police to file a missing person’s report if I stayed in there for hours on end. He was home with a screaming baby after all.
Still, it was a bit wonderful to be at the gym all by myself and then to be buying groceries all by myself. I felt like a big girl for once. I did miss Tiny-Small a little when I started talking to myself in the coffee aisle. I kind of forgot how often I use her as cover for my inappropriate behaviors and overall general madness. I can only hope my eccentricities went unnoticed by my fellow shoppers and store employees. If not, I may need to purchase a disguise for future solo shopping trips.
So, in conclusion, I will be returning to the gym because I love the showers, the TV, and the running at my own pace sort of thing. I hope to gain some muscle and lose some inches, but even if I don’t I will still enjoy the time to myself. It’s nice to feel like my old prehusband, prebaby self for a change and to think uninterrupted thoughts even if it is for just an hour or two per week. It’s my little slice of heaven right here on earth and after this delicious, soul recuperating activity I really couldn’t wait to get home to see my family.
I’ve been kind of freaking out lately about our food supply. I mean we have pink slime, pesticides, added hormones and food from China that may or may not be coated with lead paint. It’s a lot to deal with. I’ve also had this desire to go vegetarian ever since I read the book Skinny Bitch by Rory Freedman and Kim Barnouin. I just never quite took the plunge. My short subscription to PETA’s email didn’t help much either (that’s some scary sh*t). I mean PETA made me want to stop eating meat, but I didn’t. I kept eating it anyway and eventually I had to unsubscribe to the PETA newsletter because the images were too horrific and they also made me feel really guilty and sad. Going vegetarian has it’s own problems like I really LOVE bacon and also steak. On top of that most of the vegetables at the store have been genetically altered, aren’t organically grown, and are waxed for your viewing pleasure. I have friends who swear all grains are bad and then those that swear by the Atkins diet ( until their kidney’s almost shut down). I know people that eat only raw foods and some only cooked. Organic, not organic, almost organic…I’m not even sure what it all means anymore. It’s tricky trying to figure out what to eat and what is healthy. With all of the fears revolving around food these days it’s amazing any of us are alive at all.
|Fruits with peels…safe?|
So, mostly I just try not to think about it too much. Then, there are days like today where I get out my vegetarian cookbook and make a completely vegetarian meal with all new recipes that require both the blender and the chopper. It wasn’t the best day to turn into a spaz about healthy eating. Tiny-Small was up for about three hours last night reenacting a dance party in her crib complete with Michael Jackson “Owe’s!” and gibberish singing. Then she spent the day being a total crank. She screamed when I picked her up and screamed when I put her down. She threw temper tantrums over imaginary injustices, socks, and the fact that the sun was shining. It was the day from hell and of course I decided to cook an elaborate dinner with a healthy dose of foodie insanity. It was the only way to make my day complete!
|Rosie: Definitely not edible|
I decided to make fresh roasted bell pepper soup with corn cakes and cilantro pesto with a side of fresh bread sticks. As soon as I got out the vegetables and started chopping the dog wanted to go out. Then the other dog wanted to come in. Then Tiny-Small wanted juice. No she didn’t. Yes she did. Then she cried. Then the dog wanted to go out again and the other dog that was already out wouldn’t stop barking and meanwhile the onions were starting to burn. Then the blender was too loud and Tiny-Small wanted to wear my apron. Then she wanted me to wear my apron. No she didn’t. Yes she did. Then she screamed. Then the UPS guy came. Shoes were delivered and corn cakes were burnt on one side. Finally I bribed Tiny-Small with some dark chocolate and an Elmo movie and everything settled down long enough for me to finish making dinner. It was an exercise in multitasking and fractured thinking, but I think I passed. Tiny-Small is a chocoholic and I am like her drug dealer. She begged, “Chocie…Chocie” and I caved in. She had three Hershey kisses before dinner. She still ate dinner though so it wasn’t a complete and total parental fail. Also, she ate her vegetables so extra points for that, right?
I figure if we cut down on meat consumption and try to go vegetarian a few days out of the week it will be a start in the right direction and will hopefully relieve me from some of my guilt about animal cruelty and some of my worry about pink slime and other bacterial horrors. PETA gave me nightmares and that Skinny Bitch book left me feeling envious of the author’s will power and stamina. I’m not sure I will ever become a total vegetarian, especially if my husband has any say in the matter, but at least I am trying. Tiny-Small refuses to eat most meats as it is so I think she is going to follow in her Auntie’s footsteps. My sister has been a vegetarian for over a decade now. Maybe Tiny-Small will be the catalyst to spur on my vegetarian convictions and propel me into a healthier, sustainable lifestyle. Until then I’m probably going to keep eating bacon once in a while. I just can’t seem to help myself.
|Lucy says, “Eat broccoli not dogs.”|