Permanent Sunburn

Ok, you may be tired of this topic, but this is my outlet, so there! Just kidding. But do you know how ridiculous it is for your face to look like it is sunburned in OCTOBER?? I got up in the wee hours of the morning and the right side of my face was red and the left side of my face was BLOOD RED. I look like a complete moron.

Spraygroundesque

I'm big on visual learning. So picture a sprayground -- you know, one of those kids play areas where water shoots out of the ground in different spots on different timers. That is what my face feels like from the hot flashes. The good news, though, is that I've only had 2 meltdowns (i.e., crying with no end in site for exaggerated reasons) after 2 months of the drug. Not too shabby.

Tres

Have you ever felt a breakdown coming on? A really random, no life altering event provoking breakdown, not a deserved one? When you can feel the elephant of panic/stress/whatever it is sitting on your chest? And for awhile it's possible to act "normal" so that when you do explode it looks that much weirder like it was out of the blue?

I take my 3rd shot today. And just yesterday I was smugly telling myself how great I was doing, how normal I was feeling. And then today, elephant on the chest. Quick, somebody call and warn Doug! :)

Crystal Clear

It is now completely apparent as to why I got ma'am'd at class earlier this week.

Thanks ever so much, Elizabeth, for finding this photo op so amusing.

Don't Think About Elephants!

In my former job, I was exposed to the concept of framing your message. And I read a really cool article by an organization called the Frameworks Institute (http://www.frameworksinstitute.org/ezine7.html?searched=elephants&advsearch=oneword&highlight=ajaxSearch_highlight+ajaxSearch_highlight1) -- I hope it's ok to link to this ezine. I am of the quote your references mind frame being back in school, so I thought it necessary.

Anyhoo, I just love this little scenario, and I couldn't help but think of it yesterday while Sara and I were IM'ing. Sara had the best of intentions with her IM info. She was wailing about the calories in Double Stuff Oreos. And what should have been cautionary or even preventative info just made me go, "Oooh, Oreos sound so good right now." And I think this is an overall affliction for me with any sort of dieting. I have to think so much about what to eat and not eat (and how much to eat or not eat) that it just makes me think about it all the time! Emily, stop thinking about elephants!

How Much is that Transformer on the Endcap?

(Sing to the tune of "How much is that doggy in the window?")

Grandmommy, Elliott and I had the best day planned for yesterday. And though it did end good overall, there were a couple of derailments along the way.

We headed to Columbus to attend mass at 10:30 am. But as we were walking across the parking lot toward the church, we were stopped by a friend who told us it was almost over. HUH? It's only 10:15. Then my mom's face gets that Oh My Gosh look, and she remembers that it was moved up an hour because of some monthly picnic. Oops. So we headed on over to Wal-Mart to buy a birthday present for Elliott's friend, but more importantly so Elliott could visit the toys. And that is when the second, and major, derailment occurred. The little hard head was insistent that I hand him a transformer from a high shelf on an end cap - even though we assured him they were the same as the ones on the lower shelves. But oh no, he had to see one. So as I'm lifting it down, I DROP IT ON HIM (I am, and always have been, a huge clutz). And his eyebrow starts GUSHING blood and he is of course wailing at the top of his lungs. So I'm holding a printed recipe to his head while we search for my Mossy Oak bandaids and then finally get the wound covered. I am marching out of there -- in heels -- holding his 45+ lb self, he's wailing, Mom is pushing the buggy like a wild woman, then she was going to abandon the birthday gift. But we are right there by the checkout and there is no one in line (has that ever happened at Wal-Mart before? I think not), so I insist we go ahead and buy it. So then we get to the car and by now the pain is making him angry. So he is not so into being buckled into his carseat. And it hits me like a ton of bricks: What if someone thinks I'm abducting this child...who looks nothing like me. And that almost shattered my heart. A McDonald's happy meal and a trip to the clinic in Columbus that is open on Sundays (!!) later, no stitch was needed. Though he looks worse for the wear:

Poor baby :(

We were able to continue on with lunch at Peking, shopping for fall clothes, attending a birthday party, and even going to Country Pumpkins in Caledonia. He feels much better, see!

Corn!

Cotton!

Look, he eventually forgave me!

Later, taters!

Corn Pops Anonymous

"Hi, my name is Phillip, and I am addicted to Corn Pops."

Because acceptance is the first step.

Dang you, Lilypie!

I liked the concept of a counter for meltdowns so much that I thought I needed one to celebrate (or cry over) my breakup with Dr. Pepper. From now on, you'll be able to keep track of my drug usage/non-usage on the right side of the blog. I couldn't find a suitable pre-made counter. Poo.

I found the magical pill, but it is hard to swallow

Let's talk numbers, shall we? Well, more like I'm going to allude to numbers. I can't let the true weight numbers out of the bag. Literally the only people who know what I weigh are me, the people at the doctor's office, and one male friend who I handed a sheet to one time FORGETTING my weight was on it. We were discussing how all my other numbers were good (blood pressure, cholesterol, blood sugar) and once I had handed it to him and then remembered my weight was on it, I was like a cartoon character trying to rewind myself. And he said, "There is no way that is what you weigh." Hence why I won't share that number with you. I am glad to report that as of this morning I weigh TWELVE pounds less than I did on Feb. 12. I think from last summer that means a loss of at least FOURTEEN pounds.

So anyway, my new (short-term) goal weight is 8 lbs away. I have chosen that weight as the next goal because that is the weight that sent me running to Weight Watchers in 2003. Yes, that is correct, the 2003 freakout weight ended up going up TWENTY-TWO pounds over the following six years. Sad. So sad. But note, that is only a little over 3.5 lbs a year. You have been warned, skinny girls.

Here's how I'm going about it this time:

• Using livestrong.com to track my calories (aren't you proud, Lauren!)
• Working out on the treadmill and using my collection of various workout DVDs
• Cutting way back on Dr. Pepper
• Drinking lots more water
• Trying to cut back on sugar in general
• Eating out less, bringing my lunch more
  
• Making healthier choices overall

I mean, who knew this combination could work?! Quick, contact the media!

Fleas and Roaches and a Rat, OH MY!

I'm beginning to think our house is cursed. Similar to this time last year, we have fleas in the house, and we are going to go broke spraying the house. I believe at last count we have sprayed 4 times. And again I'll defend us by saying the entire time we lived in our first house (6 years) we never had fleas in the house. And we had 2 inside cats then too. We also have roaches, which is fairly common when you live in town. And now we have found the second dead rat -- OUTSIDE, thank goodness -- in just a few months time. I have decided the crawlspace foundation is to blame for all the vermin. And other than throwing multiple packs of rat poison in there, I have no plan of action. I guess I should budget in a full time exterminator contract.

As Erica said it best, if the locust show up next, we'll know we're in for it.

Because I'm a Goofy Goober

In order to keep my eye on the prize...

...I have installed some motivation at eye level from the treadmill.

Yes, I can hear you all laughing.