19 pounds

Photo from Pound per Pound - go check out her blog for some impressive results!

So. Yep. I'm down 19 lbs total. And would be more if I'd actually exercised over the past month! Shocking, I know. I've been lazy. I've not tracked any of my food. I've pigged out on wine and sweets and huge helpings. But I've made a good dent - almost 2/3 to my goal weight. Eleven pounds left to go. The treadmill arrived and I've been trying to get a run in every other day. But it's stretching out to maybe once a week, especially given the latest run of barfies that have camped out at our place. (Elliot's been battling it out both ends for a week!! Ugh.) But the upside to the barfies is that I've lost another 2 lbs. And that's on top the water-retention week that visits once a month - we'll see what I'm down to in a few more days.

My FitOrbit progress.

I'm feeling good. Energetic. Except for the sleep deprivation and anxiety caused by a deep and frantic need to disinfect the whole house. It's giving me a tic. But I can shake it. I can do it. I also did some fundraising for Bust a Move for breast health over the weekend, about 12 hours before the barfies hit, so I hope I didn't infect everyone. I worked in the morning and went to the event late, but got to do some fabulous work outs (the boxercise one left me wonderfully sore for days). Paula Abdul was the celebrity trainer and she lead us in a choreographed routine. 

Random action shot during Bust A Move

I've made a few life decision changes, too. Remember over the supper when I got that crazy idea to go back to school, get my Bachelor of Commerce and go on to get my accountant designation? Yeah, that was a crazy idea. It was causing me waaaay to much stress. And so I reevaluated. I spent some time with my friend Allison who does life coaching and we tackled a few giant mountains that were blocking me in - mainly, my intense desire to please people and an equally intense fear of failure. The failure thing is a major issue with me. All my life, I've only ever wanted to be a mom. Never had any career plans. Never wanted to work. Just to have lots of babies and stay at home with them.

Well.

Postpartum Depression put a damper on that. I wasn't instantly good at as I'd expected to be, I didn't enjoy it like I figured I would and so I failed. And hated myself for it. And then floundered, wanting to create a new identity for myself but not knowing how to do it. I thought that the accountant designation would give me the confidence to get over that crisis. But that's not realistic. I don't want to be in school for the next 8 years, only to be starting out as a junior accountant. Or whatever.

I'm a bookkeeper. Have been for 10 years. The clients I have now want a bookkeeper, not an accountant. If they wanted an accountant, they wouldn't be my clients. I do need to upgrade my skills, that's a given, but I can do that at the college level. So I am planning to head back to school full time this fall, but in a smaller classroom. In a much more manageable and attainable manner. Now I'm starting to feel smart and back in control.

So things are coming together and melting away, I suppose. I'm holding out buying new clothes until 5 more pounds are gone. Though I'm having a hard time keeping my work pants up. Looks kinda sloppy. Maybe I should spring for one new pair? Could be dangerous, me being let loose in a mall. Still don't have my willpower back under control... one thing at a time....

White bucket

You know what is really rough? Only having one bathroom when everyone has a tummy bug. Oh, it's been a fun 12 hours so far. I'm trying to disinfect the house as we go and keep on top of the disgusting laundry. It's a nice day here today so the windows upstairs are open and some (non-soiled) blankets are airing out on the clothesline.

See this? This is me. Waving that white bucket, er, flag.

We're all curled up on the couch having a movie day. That makes the boys happy in between bathroom trips.

Oh, and we're not allowed to laugh at Bailey. Before the fun started last night, hubby finally managed to pin her down long enough to shave off most of her natted-matted fins. She's 11 and overweight and has crappy personal hygiene.

One Week

The past week kinda flew by. There were a few rather memorable moments, like the thick and sweet fondant Jack Sparrow hand Elliot brought home for me from a pirate-themed birthday party he went to.  (I may have just a teensy lust on for Jack Sparrow. And now I've eaten his hand!) It was very... chewy. And sweet. And of course I ate very nearly all of it. That black pearl in the middle was a bit much. And the boys each wanted a finger. But it was very tasty.

We all went for a walk on Tuesday, in the sunshine. Had some fun playing in the trees at the green space down the street and were headed to the playground until the boys both had meltdowns and refused to walk because they were "too tired". When they figured out we were going home instead, Elliot started screaming, "I want to go to the park. I want to live at the park. It's all I want. Why aren't you doing what I want?"

The boys had several long and detailed phone conversations with various relatives. They fought over who would get to talk. Visions of their teenage years are in my head when I look at these pictures...

The dinosaurs came out to play on Thursday....

We went for walks after supper in the sunshine and discovered worms in the backyard.

This weekend is quickly coming to a close, a new week is beginning, a new season is budding up. It's a time of change. And we're mostly along for the ride!

Coffee with mama

The many faces of Felix as we sat in the sunny window of a coffee shop. We shared hot chocolate and a tea biscuit. This kid cracks me up!

Mmmmmm pie.

Felix is turning into such a character. I love watching him play - making his stuffed animals or dinky cars or figurines or whatever have conversations and sing and hug. It's adorable. And it's a phase I mostly missed with Elliot, as I was dealing with a new baby at the time.

The power of the Felix compels you...

He has this way of laughing at himself when he knows he's done something cute or silly. It's a self-aware titter, a high pitched nervous giggle that makes me melt. He's always moving, bouncing, dancing, singing, something.  They both are, really, but Elliot has more down time. He's a reader, like me. And he's so incredibly smart. Reading and doing math already. He's going to blow them away at school in the fall.

Self-portrait

It's been hard spending so much of this past week at work. Over 50 hours. I've never been apart from them for so long before. I haven't even worked than many hours since before Felix was born. It was 2 months from now, 3 years ago, when I ended up on bedrest because I pushed myself too hard during the last trimester of his pregnancy. I think I had at least a 45 hour week then, too. Then my water broke 10 weeks early, forcing me to slow the hell down.

My body is taking a beating right now, too. I'm exhausted and bleary eyed. I'm getting sick - a rattling cough that so far isn't settled deep into my chest. I have tomorrow off and then I'm jumping back into another 50 hour week. After that, things should slow down again. I hope. They have to, otherwise I may just have a nervous break down.

I love that I'm so busy at work. This tax season seems to be spectacularly busier than the previous 3 I've worked. I'm senior staff at a brand new location that's already surpassing managements projections for client flow. (And we finally have heat! Sort of. At least when I increase the desired temperature on the thermostat, the room gauge eventually goes up to match - even though it still feels frigid.) I have a lot of prior clients who are making a point of only coming back to see me this year, and they've tracked me down. I think it's actually pissing off my office leader, because whenever he answers a call for me or someone comes in looking for me, he exclaims "Oh, she's soooooo popular!" in a drippy, fake voice. Today, he actually nabbed two of my clients - granted, I don't think they requested me, but they did see me there and got very chatty, until he ushered them into his office and told me to take the other client. Whatever.

So I'm busy, popular and tired. And I'm secretly happy to see that the house is starting to fall into a slight decline again. Hubby hasn't been as on top of the dishes and other house crap as before. I come home late and there are still toys spread from one end of the house to the next. I know how hard it is to wrangle our two feral monkeys and still have energy to clean. Or shower. But it's reassuring to see that he's having difficulty juggling it all, too.

He is trying out a bunch of new meals. Going to the grocery store multiple times per week, so we're always well stocked, which is nice. But I'm having a hard time letting go of the meal & grocery planning. I need to learn to trust that he can make good judgments and will make healthy choices about the family's eating habits.

Banana Brigade

I do miss my boys. But the fatigue is (as always) making it hard for me to enjoy coming home to them. I want to sleep or lose myself in a book for a few hours after working all day. Not pry apart wrestling children or play another round of word bingo or bathe slippery, protesting boys. But it's a different kind of energy suck this time around, not the same sense of being completely drained as I was when my iron levels were low. They've stabilized, but I hope I don't shoot them down to hell by working myself too hard. It's a body fatigue right now, not a mental one. Not as much, anyway!

I need to find balance. The scale is always tipped heavily to one side, no matter what I'm trying to do. Maybe I need a pie chart. Mmmmmmm. Pie.

Or maybe just more sleep. Sleep makes the world function.

Birthday flowers. They make me feel good.

It looks better on the floor

Yep, a big ol' pile of (my) hair, googly eyes and some Mr. Potato Head teeth. Wild kitchen party at my place last night!

There may have been wine.