So you all know that since the beginning of this year I've been "dieting". Stop laughing, I'm trying to be serious here. So yesterday I got out my workout videos and spent thirty minutes walking and doing leg lifts and knee lifts, using 2 lb. hand weights and everything... right along with my 2-mile video. Even Jake joined in about half way through. After that I felt great. I also felt like I hadn't done enough, and actually by the end of the night my scale had gone up a half a point instead of down!! I'll just chalk that up to some new muscle I must have accumulated....

So this morning I decided to take up running. A little background: I HATE running. I actually detest it. It makes my lip curl and eye twitch just thinking about it. But I'm a little naive early in the morning and decided this was the way to go if I was going to crack down on my "diet" and "weight loss".

When Hubby learned of my early morning adventure to go running, he grinned a little and then raced outside to set up the jogging cart. I was a little irritated at how quickly he jumped at the chance to "assist" me in my exercise preparations...

I bundled up Ben in the jogging cart and got my "tennis" shoes laced up...(this is how little I exercise: I don't actually own a pair of work-out, sports, high-top shoes. I am forced to wear my Simple brand lace up regular everyday shoes...) Hubby looked me over and grinned again and suggested that maybe I should buy a pair of running shoes. (I was beginning to hate him a little...)

So off we went! Great, I thought, we'll head to the park at a nice steady walking pace and then I'd run a couple of laps around the park and speed-walk home. We got to the edge of our driveway and Ben decided he no longer wanted a ride. Out he went and in hopped Jake instead. Terrific. Not only do I detest running but instead of pushing a cart with a thirty pound child in it I was now pushing a cart with a kid weighing well over forty pounds.

We headed around the corner and found the sidewalks were closed due to construction. Just great. Now I was forced to jog through my neighborhood where people I actually know might see me. Nevertheless, I began my jog... it sucked from the very beginning. My nose was running, my head was pounding, my lungs were going into overdrive trying to keep up with my heart.... it was a disaster. I couldn't imagine the sight I was portraying...

I ended up walking some, running some, walking some, running some. Every time I ran Jake would scream "Woohoo!" "Fun!" and my all-time favorite, "Faster Mommy! Faster!" Was he kidding? We passed some elderly woman sipping a hot beverage on her porch. The look on her face read: that poor child is being chased by a sweaty baboon in bad shoes.

When we finally got home, Jake was exhuberant from his morning escapade, and I was, well, wheezing from lack of oxygen. Hubby met us at the door and said, "Well? How did it go?" with that stupid grin of his. If I wasn't so tired, I would've smacked it off him. Panting and chugging water I managed to spurt out, "I...am...so...out...of...shape..." He laughed and asked if I'd be going again tomorrow morning. I just glared at him and collapsed in a chair.

This is the cutest thing ever! I asked my 4-year-old to take his newest plush puppy (the black and white spotted dog) to his room to "show him where he'd be sleeping with you"... and later on I walked into his room and realized he had "tucked in" both of his dog animals. They were happily sitting together, heads against the pillow, bodies tucked under the blanket... probably thinking, "we got a way better bargain with this kid than sitting on that cold shelf in the store"... assuming plush animals think...

It's barely 71 degrees and both my boys act like fish stranded on the sand for the past 6 months. I had pulled out the little plastic pool for our dogs and before I knew it both boys had their swim trunks on and dove on in! Of course there was only about 2 inches of water in it and it was full of dog hair (thanks to Charlie) and sand (thanks to Ben)... but there was no stopping them.

I'm sure I'm not the only Mom who's had this conversation in the supermarket with their child:

child: Mommy, Mommy! Can I get some of those, PLEASE?!?!
Mom: Are you going to eat them?
child: Oh yes Mommy, every day!
Mom: Are you sure you like those?
child: Oh yes, Mommy, I LOVE those! I could eat them every day at every meal! I couldn't possibly live without them!
Mom: Alright... (hesitant)

That's right folks, I fell for it again. This time I'm stuck with stick pretzels. Oh, yum. My youngest son won't touch them with a ten foot pole, and my oldest (the begger and pleader) has had about 6 out of the whole bag. Guess how many are in the bag? Around 1100. Yep, being a good economist, I went for the bigger bargain and bought the 1 1/2 lb. bag. Guess who's forced to eat them so we don't lose out on good money spent... me. *sigh* I'm dreaming pretzels in my sleep, thinking about them during tv shows... I am never buying these again, ever... I think...

This morning, as is every morning, my kids climb into bed with Daddy and "wake up" with him. They talk about their day and what has transpired during the early morning hours that Daddy has missed out on. (Mostly it's Jake complaining about something Ben did)

Then this morning I walked in right as Jake leaned really close to Daddy's ear and whispered (loudly, because as you know 4 year olds have no concept of talking quietly): "You, me and Ben are all best friends. We're best buddies."

Very cute. I'm not in the least offended that I wasn't included. It's just that I endured 25 hours of hard labor including 2 hours of pushing for this little rugrat to pop out, and I'm not included in their little trio?? But I bite my tongue, as all mother's do, and watch Daddy glow in his moment of triumph. That jerk.

I've been doing a lot of scrapbooking lately and am thoroughly enjoying it, most of the time... nevermind all the paper cuts! I've been staying up til the wee hours of the morning finishing different pages. During the day it takes me about 5 hours to finish gluing down two pieces of paper; not because I'm overly picky about the design but because my kids constantly interrupt!



Here's my drama: Cut out one 4x4 square... "Mom can I watch a show?" Put Dora in charge, return to 4x4 square. Un-twist glue stick. "Mom can I have some juice?" "Duce! Duce!" (my two-year-old chimes in). Ignore the pleas, focus on the glue stick. Glue the 4x4 to the larger paper. Try to ignore the persistant pleas of "juice" and "duce". *sigh* Give those that have apparently been wandering in the desert some apple juice.



Return to papers and cut out a different 4x4 square. "I have to go poop!" Ignore the grotesque and focus on the ribbon... "Mom! I'm going POOP!" *rolls eyes* "Thanks for sharing!" I reply. Glue new 4x4 and some ribbon on the big paper. Then, bellowing from the bathroom, "Mom! I need you to wipe my bottom." And from the living room, "More duce, peese!"



*sigh* Maybe I'll finish their baby books when they're eighteen.

I've been so sick for the past week that I can tell you from memory the number of tiles on our bathroom walls. I've used enough toilet paper to cover Rhode Island, and I've drank so much water that the Pacific Ocean has reached an all-time low. I'm now down to about 4 small meals a day, and can no longer eat dairy or drink caffeinated beverages, or eat chocolate (well, sweets in general). Thank the Lord I can still eat bread!

I'm too tired to do anything but sit around (a shower is a daunting task, and if I could pass off my stench as a new perfume... I would) My carpet is beginning to feel like I'm walking across a bowl of Frosted Flakes cereal thanks to my lack of vaccuuming. And I swear Dr. Seuss got his idea about "Horton Hears A Who" from the volume of dust that has accumulated on the tops of my furniture.

...After all this, I better be losing weight...