Thursday, July 30, 2009
I'm fairly certain cherries don't qualify as a protein, but when it's cherry time one cannot be bound to a commitment, dietwise, at least not a commitment which involves no fruit. Can one? I'm only asking for, um, a friend of mine. Yeah, that's it. My friend wants to know.
Down 12.5 pounds. I keep expecting to wake up and have gained it all back. Of course it's been so hot (106 here yesterday and 104 the day before; this is unheard of in our area) and I've been working so much (read: not able to find time to eat in between phone calls) that I'd probably have lost a little even if I hadn't declared war on refined flour and sugar. Right?
And because I just don't have faith in this diet despite its apparent short-term success over the last couple of weeks, it's sort of hard to be proud of myself. I'm not eating any brown rice, which was my main staple for decades. How can I be so carb-intolerant when all the complex carbs I was eating (and to be truthful, to which I plan to return) were so healthy? Why-oh-why.
Tonight I'm having a cold pesto zucchini salad. Yum-yum. Oh, and some cherries.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Some weeks we have the hammock, the sandbox, the garden, the bookshelves and trips to the library or lake. These are the weeks when breathing is deep enough to fill my lungs and my brainwaves are blissfully uninterrupted by static.
Other weeks we live in the Suburban. I drop the kids at my friend Marian's house. They wave from her picture window. I negotiate real estate and administrate personnel and payroll issues and try to remember to buy toilet paper and then I pick the girls up. It sometimes seems like they never left that window because they're usually there, hopping up and down and requesting dinner, when I pull in six hours later.
On those weeks I hope to decompress in the 20-minute drive from my office(s) to Marian's house. Sometimes on Fridays it's not Marian but Grandpa who has the girls. Then I don't have to be concerned with being "on" for them, because they don't even bother to climb out of the swimming pool when I drive up.
I have always thought of myself as a stay-at-home mom. I garden, bake, sew and do laundry like a homebody. And yet I've always worked outside the home. When Madeleine and Sarah were still small, I was an editor with wonderful privileges to work from home as much as I liked. To bring the babies in to my office as much as I liked. Or didn't. So I thought, in my own way, that I was prioritizing things and I was still a mom first. Even when Madeleine could identify non-parallel sentence structures at 3 years old, I never thought of myself as a working mom.
And I know this is a loaded topic.
Of course. But all I can think about today is the sad view from my Suburban seat.
Edited to add:
I know I know this is whining and ridiculous. How lucky am I to have a trusted friend who can handle all four of my kids along with her three? How lucky am I to have a career (or three) in this economy? I just needed a minute to mourn my other life as Ma Ingalls. That's all.
Monday, July 27, 2009
The scale wasn't down at all, but it wasn't up either. I rationalized that I have been losing steadily for two weeks --10.5 pounds down now.
Then I remembered that I had ice cream yesterday.
Hey, it was 105 degrees outside and we had a three-hour-drive (think Gilligan's Island, first episode) with Laura the Chatterbox (loudmouth would be more alliterative but she is my darling baby after all) and Gracie the Gleeful on our way to drop Madeleine and Sarah with their Tia for a week of fun and games (and me doing all the horse/rabbit/chicken/garden chores. oy).
I earned that ice cream. And so did my hips.
But today it's back on the wagon. How about you?
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Sarah having a moment with her birthday pinata before it was beaten to shreds and subsequently worn as a hat by the eldest party attendee.
The senorita is nine. 9. Her last year in the single digits, people.
And here are the three silliest senoritas on their way to camp. Madeleine, the girls' best friend Megan, and Sarah peeking out from behind the mountain o' stuff sacks and sweatshirts.
I did receive a couple of letters after all. One was wadded in the bottom of the backpack under two damp swimsuits and a stack of folded jean shorts. One came in the mail three days after the girls returned home. Go, Mr. Postman, go. But don't hurt yourself on that pony.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
One thing I love about 4H is the collaborative and community spirit. That's my husband's baby sister Makayla -- a blue ribbon winner! -- on Chance in last weekend's Western Pleasure event. Sorry about the photo but I wasn't about to break out the telephoto (zipping camera bag, clicking lenses) or use the (heaven forbid) flash while she was out there. I'm pretty sure the 4H community would've then collaborated to excuse me from the event.
Somehow even the ordinarily rambunctious Laura caught the quiet vibe at the horse show. Good thing, too, because I would not have liked to carry her out into the hot sun and then chase her around while the events went on.
We try to limit our chasing of Laura. To places like Powell's Bookstore, the library and the park:
Look! They were all engaged in the same activity for a moment. That was nice. Especially since it came to my attention recently that Madeleine will be leaving for college when Laura's in first grade. That was not very nice, people. I can feel the empty nest syndrome working itself up for a good anticipatory cry.
Sarah and Madeleine are home from the next-to-last sleepaway camp of the summer. They had blast: Maddy hit three bulls eyes and Sarah was sorely cheated in the archery rounds (at least the way I'm told the story) by a line judge who couldn't see her bulls eyes. Bulls' eyes? Bulls-eyes? Spelling schmelling, they had a great time with all their new best girlfriends
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Or is that 'keep climbing?'
I mix up my Disney sometimes.
In other news this week:
Monday, July 13, 2009
Friday, July 10, 2009
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Fern's mom Katie and I spent most of our day chasing babies and water toys. Oh, and reapplying sunscreen only to have the children's underarms get burned by the inner tubes they floated on. Go figure. (And then go get the aloe vera.)
At Grandpa and Grandma's house the cousins lined up for Aunt Heather's special misting attachment to cool them off.
I think it worked. That's Grace and Cayden. Two sweet peas in a pod.
There's Laura's first watermelon experience. I'm guessing it won't be her last; she liked it a little.
In fact Heather had to hose her down after eating it.
After all our fun with family and friends we sat on the neighbor's lawn and watched the children with their sparklers at dusk.