A Rare Occasion

I'll just sit here quietly while you pay at Pathmark.

Really, do not worry about me.

I won't move, won't run, won't talk, won't try to leave with someone else.

Just sitting here, minding my own business. 

Won't try to take this chair home...or the one next to it, nope.

No need to worry about me.


Code Red

Do not be fooled.  This child is naughty.  Do not let her smile convince you that she really needs a doughnut.  She says that to everyone, several times a day.  Consider yourself warned.



Dear Mom...

Your granddaughter is FRESH!

She is also smart, inquisitive, stubborn, deliberative, funny, headstrong, silly, intelligent. 

I could go on.

She wants what she wants when she wants it, and my psychology degree comes in handy at times.  She is always asking questions and testing waters and I don't want to break her spirit, so I push through and answer her, explain things to her, and try not to let her relentless thirst for life kill me dead in my tracks.

I am nervous because she gets smarter everyday.

And I don't.


Friday Night Sights

Ah, it's that time of year again.  The time when the families of Sparta gather on the field on Friday nights to listen to music and frolic and dance the night away.

Or, more like the parents get to sit down and have a drink and allow their kids to run around like lunatics for a few hours with some music in the background.



In Deep Sleep

Usually Leah is running at 115% all day long and there is not much that slows her down.  It's non-stop from 5:30 a.m. till 8:00 p.m. with a two hour nap in between.  However, every once in a while she goes balls to the wall for hours upon hours and crashes during the day on the couch.  It happens so infrequently, I've been able to catch all occurrences on film!  Here they are:

and fin.

That's it.  Just once.


Christ On A Cracker

i swear i tried to post tonight  but my internet is down and despite trying to get online on two different laptops and that didnt work and im about to call a neighbor for their router password but i cant do that on principle so i apologize there will be an update but apparently not tonight and in case its not painfully obvious im posting this from my phone


Run, Dana, Run

I am having such a hard time exercising.  Or, I should say, finding time to exercise.  It seems like the day just contains too many other priorities, and when I finally stop for the day it's too late to go for a run. 

I've taken another employment position and I'll talk about that at some point soon, but I am hoping that with this new position, some more free time becomes available to me.  I have to convince myself, however, that this free time is permitted to be spent on me, and my life goals, rather than using it to spend more time with Leah or Greg.  I have to give myself the okay to spend some time alone doing something positive for me. 


OT: My Shoes

Before I had Leah I wore a size 6.5. I had amassed an enormous amount of shoes and most of them held a special place in my heart. I am not a shoe snob—meaning I don’t care what brand or store they come from—if they are attractive and don’t hurt (much), I’ll wear them. And love them.

Once the aftermath of what I call pregnancy and its related fallouts settled, my feet stopped shrinking at a size 7, which is where they are today. While most of my summer shoes still fit, thanks to the backless varieties, most of the winter boots and loafers had to be replaced.

Three weeks ago I went to my basement where I keep off-season clothes, found the bag of summer shoes, and brought it up to my room. As I opened the bag and peaked inside, I knew immediately that something was very wrong. The smell alone was my clue, but the shoes—covered in a green and black moss-like substance confirmed my biggest fear. The shoes had gotten moldy in the basement and it looked like it might be the end for them.

Not quite sure of what I should do, I quickly closed the bag and shoved it into my closet, as the best way to put something out of your mind is to hide it in the back of your closet. But every time I opened the closet door, despite the fact that I couldn’t see the bag since I had shoved it really far back, I was reminded of the memory of the bag of sad shoes and the idea that something had to be done.

I decided to wash the shoes. Like in the washing machine. And surprisingly only two pairs didn’t make it! Two of my most beloved pairs, but this gave me a reason to replace them. Which I did. At a half off sale at--and I am not embarrassed to admit this--KMART!

So, there’s really no point to this post today, other than to say that shoes are shoes and life goes on, and also as a reminder to my husband that there’s something wrong with the basement and I’d like for him to fix it immediately. And also to solidify the notion that my washing machine is the best appliance in the house. I’ve always believed it, and I think that this story proves it.


Reminisce About The Days Of Old



The Fairy Princess and The Wicked Witch

Lan and Baby Tai Yu came to visit over the weekend and, in addition to going to Costco and the parade and hanging in the back yard by the pool, we played a little dress up.

Leah and I got a kick out of this.  Baby Tai Yu--not so much.



Weight Watchers

I’ve been following Weight Watchers since May 17th now. As of this past Tuesday, I am down 12.2 lbs, which means I’m averaging 2 lbs a week. I am happy with this pace, yet I fear I won’t be able to hold on to it for very much longer.

I thought by this point I’d have the new points plus system down better. I don’t. I am nothing without my tools to tell me how many points foods are, and I dutifully find myself entering meals into the system with no idea of how many points they’ll turn out to be until the screen blinks out a number.

I have not been able to exercise regularly, and I feel that exercising is the only thing that will enable me to hold on to that 2 lb a week loss pace. I am switching jobs (again? I know.) in a week which will give me some more free time. I plan on integrating running back into my life.

Other people on Weight Watchers see the plan as, “Oh I can eat anything I want--just in moderation,” while my outlook isn’t as cheery. If I could eat in moderation I wouldn’t be here. Clearly, that’s an issue for me. I look at Weight Watchers as the way I have to eat, with restrictions on foods and portions, forever, if I want to be lighter and healthier. I see it as a war that I’ve lost and my punishment is a very tight rein on my diet for the rest of my life; something that I need to comes to grips with and accept. I’ve tried to live my way with regards to food, and it didn’t work out, so now we do it someone else’s way, and succumb to the fact that I’ll need to track, report, weigh in, and attend meetings in order to curb my eating habits for the rest of my life.

It’s almost like someone in a drug and alcohol treatment program--someone who tried to handle their addiction on their own but failed and is now accepting the fact that they were wrong and need help. Quite often we see certain behaviors and objects as benign, and those who struggle with them as enigmas. When I realized that overeating and poor food choices were issues in my life, and made an effort to change that, I began treatment for my addiction.

It’s incredibly difficult to sit in a room with women who are strong enough to make a life change through diet and exercise, which, with all the fast and easy ways of losing weight this days, can be described as the long and hard way. I look around at these women who know that this is the right way to do it and are fighting the good fight, despite the uphill battle ahead of them. It’s not difficult to handle because I’m one of them, and can glimpse 10, 20, 30 years in the future and see myself still needing this program to stay healthy. No, it’s difficult because of the one person who gave up on this. The person who introduced me to Weight Watchers so many years ago, and who went back time and time again. Who saw results- although meager and short-lived- after her hard work. But then who gave up. Who succumbed when the battle became too much. Who saw a light off to the right, rather than through the long tunnel, and went to it.  And then got burned.