Activism in Our Home

The injustice of the health care system...

The atrocity of foreign oil dependence...

The audacity of political spending...

The offense of global warming...

The crime of toddler bedtime everywhere...


*He goes limp when Daddy says it's time to brush teeth and go to bed.



*Like any great protester, he stays limp until the bitter end.

*This occurs every evening when it's time for bed. I think he's going to be a passionate activist one day.

Toddlers: A Perspective

The instructions were; "take a few stickers out of the box for your card."

Her interpretation:



His interpretation:




*Toddler school is going well, thank you for asking.

An Unhappy Place

Look what came to our house when our toddler started hitting:



I added the frowny face to help him understand that the naughty spot is not a happy place. Since he lets me know I ruin his life when I put him there, I think he understands...

And so begins my quest to raise a child that is not:

A. A brat
B. A whiner
C. A bully

*I'll let you know how it goes. I generally need a time-out more than he does.

Operation: Fit Into My Jeans....WEEK 1

So, I saw some pictures of myself at Christmas.

I was not happy.

I tried to dress up for a night out and my cute stuff didn't fit.

I was not happy.

I lamented to my girlfriends that "I'M FAT!" And, as any good girlfriend should, they all looked at me like I was crazy and told me I was beautiful. (If your girlfriends don't do this for you, find new girlfriends immediately!) But that did not, in fact, help me fit into my favorite jeans that make my butt look good.

Therefore, I made a plan. I was going to go on a crazy detox liquid diet until I was happy with my figure. After one phone call to my sister, ("you're not going to go on one of your stupid diets, are you?"), I came up with a better plan at her suggestion.

Weight Watchers.

I cried when I signed up; humiliated that my stress-eating had gotten this out of control. I cried when I had to weigh and measure myself. Apparently, I lost all of my baby weight and have been steadily packing it back on. I cried when I saw how many points my beloved cheese fries are. It just wasn't pretty, my friends. I only cried one more time, and that was when my sister texted to tell me that she just joined to help me out. She always backs my play like that.

But, the next day, I stopped crying and started sweating. I began tracking what I ate. I went to the gym every morning and actually, you know, sweat. It felt great. It feels great not to be in a fast food stupor all day. It feels great to be sore from the work-outs. It feels great to be kind to my body; not make incessant demands on it to keep up the ridiculous pace in which I live my life. I'm actually loving it, much to my shock. And, yee-haw, after one week, I've already 3 pounds.


More to follow....

PS
This blog post by K.C. Clifford was a HUGE source of inspiration to me: http://blog.kcclifford.com/2009/12/where-turned-leaves-go

Post-Bridal Thoughts

Why do we only get a chance to do this once?




It's unfair. I can't talk about it.

I'm going to put my bridal gown on and clean my house...because I just want to wear it again.

Don't try to stop me.

Sadness in the Kitchen

Uh-oh; something seems horribly wrong:


Did you mash your finger? Did you bonk your head, baby?


Do you need a mommy snuggle and your blankie?


Ah, he saw these:


The official I-want-a-cupcake-and-no-one-cares-face:


*He takes his daily sugar allotment very seriously

And a Year of Gloating Begins

The trash was talked. The tacky e-mails to the voters were sent. An unidentified person put her finger in my truffles. Another unidentified person flirted with a married man to get his vote.

Both unidentified persons had a striking similarity to her:



In the end, my buttercream chocolate cake with Oreo truffles triumphed, beating out chocolate souffle and pumpkin ice cream cake. Indeed, they will hear about it for the remainder of 2010.

Here's how the night unfolded:


*My cake came out of the pan in clumps. I decided to go with Julia Child's motto, "never apologize in the kitchen!" and just kept adding buttercream. Sidenote: my Mom and Sis are gorgeous.


*The happy dance we do when we're cooking and hoping all goes well.


*Still dancing. And perhaps drinking large amounts of champagne.

I'd like to thank the voters for coming out. I'd like to thank Pioneer Woman for her chocolate sheet cake recipe. Most importantly, I'd like to thank Dad for the large amounts of champagne. It makes me a better cook.