So, somebody in our household is very, very excited about Tae-bo - I'll give you one guess as to who that might be.
It isn't me.
We did it Friday morning, and this accountability thing must be working; the only reason I followed through on it is because I posted here that I would.
Back in the day, back when I actually used to get up at 6:00 a.m. to walk/run a couple of miles and do Tae-bo before heading off to work, I used to be a tiny bit prideful of how high my kicks were. Just a little. There is a girl on the video who kicks her leg above her head, and it was always my goal to kick as high as she did, although I never did get there. But there is a point where Billy says, "Kick to the waist - or go to the knee if you have to, but don't give up!"
"The knee?" I used to think. "Pshaw! Who kicks just to the knee?"
Well. Apparently I do now, and it is an awkward sight to see.
And also, at one point, I had to grab on to the couch to steady myself because, you know, kicking to the knee is pretty strenuous stuff, and my equilibrium went all wonky. Savannah immediately zeroed in on that and chided me as only a 3 year old can, "Mama! Why you hold on to dat pillow? Don't do that!"
Who needs Bob and Jillian? I have my own little personal trainer right here at home.
When she woke up from her nap later that day, the first thing she asked was, "Mama, can we do more exercising now?"
I'll just let you wonder what the answer was to that one.
She also informed me that Billy needs a new shirt, because his tore and you can "see his chest". I couldn't agree more.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Friday, March 27, 2009
A Challenge
I have such a love/hate relationship with my treadmill.
Hate it because, well, it's exercise. And also because my treadmill pretty much chewed me up and spit me out last fall, causing some major havoc with my knee. See how I blame that on my treadmill, instead of my innate clumsiness which we all know was the real reason for it?
But I do love the way I feel afterwards. And I also love the fact that it gives me an excuse to sort of have a "me" time every day. That right there should be motivation enough, right?
I put Savannah down for a nap - and yes, I know I'm lucky she still takes a 2 hour nap every day...let's not mention the fact that it's probably because she goes to bed too late and wakes up too early. In some strange twist she got both Ricardo's early bird and my late owl genes, so she is exhausted by mid-afternoon.
But it works for me - she goes down for her nap, and then I jump on the treadmill and watch whatever show or movie I can find on Hulu.com. Lately my show of choice has been Lost...talk about addicting....
But sometimes my motivation wanes, and so that's when I'm glad that I have many friends out in the blogosphere for accountability.
And this, invisible friends, is why I am jumping on board with the challenge that the lovely Linda at 2nd Cup threw out there this week - we are committing to exercise at least 30 minutes, 5 times a week.
So, I've been doing ok with the walking for an hour thing, and also some other miscellaneous exercises (killer V-sit, anybody?)
But I think I need to add something more, so for this challenge I am committing to add in my Tae-bo workout. If good ol' Billy Blanks can't whip me into shape, then no one can. He is the reason that I was able to lose 25 pounds several years back, before marriage and a hubby who can eat anything and not gain an ounce, before a sweet baby, before a tummy that now stubbornly refuses to recede to the nice flat shape of yore.
The challenge kicked off today, and there's nothing like starting it off with failure...I didn't do the video. I had so much going on today, so that's my excuse, although I still did fit in my hour on the treadmill. Can't win them all.
Linda would love it if you jumped over and joined in - oh, and it's only for 2 weeks. Although I'm hoping that she'll extend it longer...I need all the accountability I can get. There are already over 50 of us signed up, so the more the merrier.
And the main thing I like about her challenge is this - no awful "before" pictures need to be taken. She said she took some of herself, and then came to her senses and didn't post them, thereby letting the rest of us off the hook....big sigh of relief. Thank you, Linda.
Hate it because, well, it's exercise. And also because my treadmill pretty much chewed me up and spit me out last fall, causing some major havoc with my knee. See how I blame that on my treadmill, instead of my innate clumsiness which we all know was the real reason for it?
But I do love the way I feel afterwards. And I also love the fact that it gives me an excuse to sort of have a "me" time every day. That right there should be motivation enough, right?
I put Savannah down for a nap - and yes, I know I'm lucky she still takes a 2 hour nap every day...let's not mention the fact that it's probably because she goes to bed too late and wakes up too early. In some strange twist she got both Ricardo's early bird and my late owl genes, so she is exhausted by mid-afternoon.
But it works for me - she goes down for her nap, and then I jump on the treadmill and watch whatever show or movie I can find on Hulu.com. Lately my show of choice has been Lost...talk about addicting....
But sometimes my motivation wanes, and so that's when I'm glad that I have many friends out in the blogosphere for accountability.
And this, invisible friends, is why I am jumping on board with the challenge that the lovely Linda at 2nd Cup threw out there this week - we are committing to exercise at least 30 minutes, 5 times a week.
So, I've been doing ok with the walking for an hour thing, and also some other miscellaneous exercises (killer V-sit, anybody?)
But I think I need to add something more, so for this challenge I am committing to add in my Tae-bo workout. If good ol' Billy Blanks can't whip me into shape, then no one can. He is the reason that I was able to lose 25 pounds several years back, before marriage and a hubby who can eat anything and not gain an ounce, before a sweet baby, before a tummy that now stubbornly refuses to recede to the nice flat shape of yore.
The challenge kicked off today, and there's nothing like starting it off with failure...I didn't do the video. I had so much going on today, so that's my excuse, although I still did fit in my hour on the treadmill. Can't win them all.
Linda would love it if you jumped over and joined in - oh, and it's only for 2 weeks. Although I'm hoping that she'll extend it longer...I need all the accountability I can get. There are already over 50 of us signed up, so the more the merrier.
And the main thing I like about her challenge is this - no awful "before" pictures need to be taken. She said she took some of herself, and then came to her senses and didn't post them, thereby letting the rest of us off the hook....big sigh of relief. Thank you, Linda.
Monday, March 23, 2009
Project 365 - Week 12
Today I opened my refrigerator to get some cheese out for the red chile enchiladas that my husband adores. Then with no warning and hardly any provocation - I mean, I didn't pull on it THAT hard - this drawer came flying out and clattered onto the floor.
It's a sign, isn't it? It is positively begging to be cleaned. And it's a sign that I have only one more day to clean my fridge before the looming deadline.
The funny thing - and so relieving to me - was finding out that I'm not alone. Here I pictured all of you ceremoniously cleaning out your refrigerators every month on the dot, but apparently you are of the same mindset as me - if you can close the door on it, then it's not really dirty.
But come tomorrow, that refrigerator won't know what hit it. Good thing I set this deadline for myself, because I have pushed it to its very limits.
So pictures from this week are pretty scarce, and I hope you aren't tired of seeing nothing but Savannah, but really, I have nothing else quite this adorable as my subject.
It's a sign, isn't it? It is positively begging to be cleaned. And it's a sign that I have only one more day to clean my fridge before the looming deadline.
The funny thing - and so relieving to me - was finding out that I'm not alone. Here I pictured all of you ceremoniously cleaning out your refrigerators every month on the dot, but apparently you are of the same mindset as me - if you can close the door on it, then it's not really dirty.
But come tomorrow, that refrigerator won't know what hit it. Good thing I set this deadline for myself, because I have pushed it to its very limits.
So pictures from this week are pretty scarce, and I hope you aren't tired of seeing nothing but Savannah, but really, I have nothing else quite this adorable as my subject.
And this here is a random picture of celery, which I ate as a snack today....
....when what I really wanted was this.
I suppose there's a reason why celery only has 5 calories per stalk, and chocolate has like 70 calories per microscopic crumb. No comparison. No fair.
You can visit Sara for more Project 365 pictures....there you will find people far more dedicated to this than I am.
So, what fun things do y'all have planned for this week? Does it involve a smackdown with your refrigerator?
Friday, March 20, 2009
Chasing bubbles, chasing dreams
There is chicken thawing on the counter, and laundry in the dryer.
Floors to be vacuumed.
Blogs to be read.
"Mama! Can we blow bubbles? Come outside!"
I sigh. Interrupted.
And I don't like these bubbles
When I squeeze the bottle, they drip down my hand.
Messy.
"Hmmm... you go outside and blow bubbles. You can do it!"
She shakes her head, sad. No. It isn't fun to blow bubbles by yourself.
So we go out, and I sit down on her stool, on her level.
Brown eyes fill with excitement.
Blow bubbles, Mama!
I pop up the wand, the drippy one. And oh yes, it trickles down my hand. Messy.
But sometimes making memories is messy.
And sometimes messy can be fun,
If you let it be.
Bubbles flutter around her head like fragile dreams.
She dances and darts this way and that, not knowing which to reach out for first.
She laughs when her finger pokes through one, and pouts when another flies too high.
Not every bubble can be caught, not every dream realized,
But baby, you sure can try.
I forget about the million things to do inside,
And am lost in the now.
The late afternoon sun hits my back, and reminds me that I would have missed this
If I had stayed inside.
The day is pure spring, this feeling pure joy.
The chicken is still on the counter,
the laundry still needs to be folded,
the vacuum still sits in the closet,
and the blogs have multiplied since I stepped outside.
But we were busy.
Chasing bubbles, chasing dreams.
This is my entry for Scribbit's April Write-Away Contest.
Floors to be vacuumed.
Blogs to be read.
"Mama! Can we blow bubbles? Come outside!"
I sigh. Interrupted.
And I don't like these bubbles
When I squeeze the bottle, they drip down my hand.
Messy.
"Hmmm... you go outside and blow bubbles. You can do it!"
She shakes her head, sad. No. It isn't fun to blow bubbles by yourself.
So we go out, and I sit down on her stool, on her level.
Brown eyes fill with excitement.
Blow bubbles, Mama!
I pop up the wand, the drippy one. And oh yes, it trickles down my hand. Messy.
But sometimes making memories is messy.
And sometimes messy can be fun,
If you let it be.
Bubbles flutter around her head like fragile dreams.
She dances and darts this way and that, not knowing which to reach out for first.
She laughs when her finger pokes through one, and pouts when another flies too high.
Not every bubble can be caught, not every dream realized,
But baby, you sure can try.
I forget about the million things to do inside,
And am lost in the now.
The late afternoon sun hits my back, and reminds me that I would have missed this
If I had stayed inside.
The day is pure spring, this feeling pure joy.
The chicken is still on the counter,
the laundry still needs to be folded,
the vacuum still sits in the closet,
and the blogs have multiplied since I stepped outside.
But we were busy.
Chasing bubbles, chasing dreams.
This is my entry for Scribbit's April Write-Away Contest.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
So it has come to this...
Another alternate title that would be just lovely and so apropos is I have issues.
Let me preface this post with a little tidbit:
When I was about 7 years old, I got my first job. A couple of ladies in our church hired my sister and me to come and clean their houses. We were paid $1 an hour, and I proudly hoarded every penny I made. Looking back, I don't know exactly how good of a job we did, but we certainly worked hard - scrubbing big kitchen floors on hands and knees, cleaning showers and bathrooms, the whole shebang. My mama had taught us how to work.
I remember after working for one year, my sister and I put our heads together and decided we were worth more than just a dollar an hour. Did we dare ask for a raise? The thought of such a confrontation made me shudder even back then. I wasn't brave enough, but my sister, far more fearless than I, marched up and told them that we thought we needed a fifty cent raise.
The ladies laughed, and then agreed. We got the raise.
Fast-forward 7 or 8 years, and now we lived in Indiana. We decided to start up another cleaning business, and somehow managed to land a job cleaning a house up in the higher-end area of Indianapolis. And when I say house, I mean a 36-room mansion that had 2 people rattling around in it.
Obviously, this house didn't get very dirty on a day to day basis, yet we were hired to go three days a week. The only time that I remember seeing it dirty was when the owners' grown son would come to visit and bring two huge stinkin' dogs with him, black-haired beasts who shook themselves violently and shed over our freshly scrubbed floors.
We were not fond of visits from the son.
Every week, we were asked to clean out the refrigerator. I don't mean just casually swab all the surfaces whereupon nothing was resting, I mean take-every-single-item-out kind of cleaning. It seemed like a colossal waste of time to me, and I remember being particularly bugged by the fact that she had enough drinks in there to stock a restaurant. Cans and cans of soda and juice, water and milk. And nectar. I clearly remember nectar. All of which had a precise placement in the refrigerator, and boy, would we hear about it if we didn't get it all put back just so.
So all of that to tell you this:
I still hate cleaning out my refrigerator.
Of course, when the forgotten bag of celery in the deep dark corner of the drawer starts to putrefy and ooze yellow juice everywhere, or when I grab one too many eggs and one flies out of my hand and crash-lands inside one of the door shelves (yep, happened to me just tonight), do I take it out and clean it? Of course. But as far as removing every single item out of the fridge and washing it top to bottom?
I haven't done it in....are you ready for this?
An entire year.
I know. Gulp. Gasp.
Almost daily I think, "Hmmm, I really need to clean out this mess. No, really, I do. No more excuses." And then I quickly shut the door and conveniently think about something else.
But now I cannot stand it any longer, which is why I am shaming myself into revealing this dirty little secret.
So, a deadline is what I need. I am giving myself one week. One week from today, and I declare that my refrigerator shall be sparkling clean. One week seems like ample time, don't you think? Probably too much time, when you figure I can just get in there and get 'er done in about an hour. But given my past track record, I need to allow for some leeway here.
Told you. I have issues.
Care to make me feel better and tell me what one thing you absolutely despise doing?
Let me preface this post with a little tidbit:
When I was about 7 years old, I got my first job. A couple of ladies in our church hired my sister and me to come and clean their houses. We were paid $1 an hour, and I proudly hoarded every penny I made. Looking back, I don't know exactly how good of a job we did, but we certainly worked hard - scrubbing big kitchen floors on hands and knees, cleaning showers and bathrooms, the whole shebang. My mama had taught us how to work.
I remember after working for one year, my sister and I put our heads together and decided we were worth more than just a dollar an hour. Did we dare ask for a raise? The thought of such a confrontation made me shudder even back then. I wasn't brave enough, but my sister, far more fearless than I, marched up and told them that we thought we needed a fifty cent raise.
The ladies laughed, and then agreed. We got the raise.
Fast-forward 7 or 8 years, and now we lived in Indiana. We decided to start up another cleaning business, and somehow managed to land a job cleaning a house up in the higher-end area of Indianapolis. And when I say house, I mean a 36-room mansion that had 2 people rattling around in it.
Obviously, this house didn't get very dirty on a day to day basis, yet we were hired to go three days a week. The only time that I remember seeing it dirty was when the owners' grown son would come to visit and bring two huge stinkin' dogs with him, black-haired beasts who shook themselves violently and shed over our freshly scrubbed floors.
We were not fond of visits from the son.
Every week, we were asked to clean out the refrigerator. I don't mean just casually swab all the surfaces whereupon nothing was resting, I mean take-every-single-item-out kind of cleaning. It seemed like a colossal waste of time to me, and I remember being particularly bugged by the fact that she had enough drinks in there to stock a restaurant. Cans and cans of soda and juice, water and milk. And nectar. I clearly remember nectar. All of which had a precise placement in the refrigerator, and boy, would we hear about it if we didn't get it all put back just so.
So all of that to tell you this:
I still hate cleaning out my refrigerator.
Of course, when the forgotten bag of celery in the deep dark corner of the drawer starts to putrefy and ooze yellow juice everywhere, or when I grab one too many eggs and one flies out of my hand and crash-lands inside one of the door shelves (yep, happened to me just tonight), do I take it out and clean it? Of course. But as far as removing every single item out of the fridge and washing it top to bottom?
I haven't done it in....are you ready for this?
An entire year.
I know. Gulp. Gasp.
Almost daily I think, "Hmmm, I really need to clean out this mess. No, really, I do. No more excuses." And then I quickly shut the door and conveniently think about something else.
But now I cannot stand it any longer, which is why I am shaming myself into revealing this dirty little secret.
So, a deadline is what I need. I am giving myself one week. One week from today, and I declare that my refrigerator shall be sparkling clean. One week seems like ample time, don't you think? Probably too much time, when you figure I can just get in there and get 'er done in about an hour. But given my past track record, I need to allow for some leeway here.
Told you. I have issues.
Care to make me feel better and tell me what one thing you absolutely despise doing?
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