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I Excercise Because…

  • Posted on September 19, 2009 at 12:15 pm

…it’s healthy.

recently, i’ve noticed a growing concern in the number i see on the scale, but when my scale broke…i realized that it’s completely unimportant.

it’s not the number i should be concerned about, it’s my general health. if i weigh 120 lbs, but live off nothing but Little Debbie snack cakes and excercise, i’m no better off than if i weighed 190 lbs and ate nothing but McDonalds.

i want to be slender, sure. but recently i’ve come to realize that that’s not all that important in the scheme of things. my husband has stood by me through 2 pregnancies, watched me give birth, and still wanted me during and after both. ultimately, i want to be healthy. yeah, if i get flattened by a semi one day i’ll be just as dead at peak physical fitness as i would if i resembled a lethargic slug, but maybe if i’m at peak physical fitness it would at least give my body a fighting chance.

i need to be fit so that if i ever do get in an accident, get cancer or another terrible disease, i am in proper fighting form. i need to be physically fit so i can live to a ripe old age and see my children grow up and have kids of their own. i need to be physically fit because excercise improves my own attitude…it gives me the energy and strength i need to not fall into a depressed puddle of goo. i need to be physically fit so that if something completely random happens to me and i die, i will be able to sit on my perch in the afterlife completely satisfied that what happened wasn’t preventable through a healthy diet and exercise.

i don’t exercise to stay skinny, i exercise to live the best quality of life that i can, for my husband and for my children.  i don’t want to get into an accident and die because my body just wasn’t up to the task of keeping me alive.

screw the numbers. i just want to live a good quality of life, and i have noticed a definite improvement in my quality of life when i exercise. that’s why i exercise. that’s why i want to eat healthy and stay fit. not because of some stupid numbers that a bunch of strangers in the medical world came up with…because i want my children and husband to have to put up with me as long as i can manage it.

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Twitter

  • Posted on at 11:16 am

just a quick note about my Twitter…

you are more than welcome to follow me, and i will even follow you if you decide to take the plunge and add me to your list… but if i don’t already know who you are, e-mail me or something first! because i WILL block you. even though my account is public, i still block all unfamiliar faces who follow me on Twitter.

nobody at nobodysnothings dot com

it’s that easy. :)

thanks once again.

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The Purpose of Air Freshener

  • Posted on at 11:00 am

*Disclaimer: this post is crude and kinda nasty. not for the weak of heart, or stomach.

if you are visiting someone, and you have to take a shit in their home, that’s okay. i’m sure they understand… they’ve probably taken a shit in the very same toilet you’re about to. but if that person generously provides an air freshening spray in their bathroom… USE IT!

what? you don’t like all that “perfume-y crap”? you think that spraying air freshener is like putting a neon sign above the toilet that reads “I JUST TOOK A SHIT IN YOUR TOILET”? or do you mean you like the smell of your own feces more than Lavender and Clean Febreeze?

well guess what. if the person who was kind enough to allow you to visit them in their home is close enough to the bathroom to smell or hear the spray of the air freshener that you despise so much, then chances are they’re close enough to smell your crap. believe me, if a person goes so far as to provide air freshener, please use it. that means they don’t want to smell your shit, and despite what YOU may believe, they think that Febreeze smells better than your ass vomit every time. even if it looks like they won’t be anywhere near the bathroom in the time it takes for shit-smell to dissipate, please use it anyways. you never know when the urge to empty one’s bladder will hit, and the last thing they want is to walk into a bathroom that smells like the worst of last night’s dinner.

just use the damn air freshener.

it’s called respect. respect the person who provided the air freshener and use it during the appropriate shit-sessions. thank you, and goodnight.

*just fyi…this post isn’t directed at anybody specific, it’s just a pet peeve of mine.

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I Learn Something New…

  • Posted on at 10:51 am

…everyday with E. i’m not a first time mom. in fact, i have experience all the way up to age 7. but with E, i might as well be a first time mom. she’s changed all the rules on me and sometimes it makes my head spin.

we all know the issues i’m having with getting her to eat solids. the most recent development, is a puree strike. which isn’t a good thing, considering it’s all she’ll eat. she won’t even eat her pureed bananas anymore, and that used to be her favorite. :(

this morning, i tried something a little different. well, unintentionally different actually. all of her baby spoons and colorful plastic baby bowls were dirty in the dishwasher, so i dumped a jar of bananas into some of the “big people” crockery, and spoon fed her with a “big people” spoon.

she devoured it with a smile on her face.

well. at least i have her pegged… she wants to be a grown up. it’s why she loves yogurt so much, i guess. she eats it straight from the YoBaby cup on the couch. anways, i even managed to get 2 very tiny bites of “big people” oatmeal down her gullet before she decided the texture wasn’t worth the illusion of being grown up.

yesterday, she snacked on some mashed yams mixed with just a little bit of puree to help it go down. she took about 2 bites, before refusing… but continued to try and eat it when i let her have the bowl and spoon by herself, mess be damned. she also mouthed a handful of cheerios while i mopped the kitchen floor, and i’m pretty sure she swallowed at least a quarter of a cheerio with nary a gag.

sure, she hasn’t eaten many solids. one or two bites at most out of a half a cup of food (what a waste!) but we ARE making progress, and as slow as it is-i’m still pleased with it.

what i am NOT pleased with, is the other end. her unwillingness to eat regular food has led to a temporary spike in nursing sessions. one difference between breast-fed and formula fed babies, is that formula fed babies have a tendancy towards constipation because formula is harder on the system. in toddlers, it’s the same. now that E is backsliding towards a lot of nursing sessions, her poops have gotten nasty. i mean hard-core, gag inducing sludge. last night i slept horridly because my daughter kept crying and crying. eventually i just had to let her cry it out. when she finally went back to sleep, she woke up 40 minutes later… with a diaper filled with vomitous toxic waste. thank goodness i still put her in disposables at night, because i think i probably would puke if i had to deal with that sickly-sweet smell again to wash it out of one of her cloth diapers. thankfully, she slept until 9 after getting that out of her system…and i can hardly be mad at her for being uncomfortable with that kind of shit in her system.

this is my message to E this morning…

dear E,

please start eating real food soon. please start drinking real milk soon. this inconsistent crap is making mommy nauseous and irritable. mommy’s head hurts. mommy needs sleep. please? mommy is very happy that you are adorable and worth every headache and stomach rolling poopy diaper… but there comes a time when enough is enough. please? let’s move on to the next stage. solid foods. solid poops. milk. maybe even a few real words. thanks so much.

love, mommy

oh. and just had to share this… yesterday while i was getting her bath ready, i had the pleasure of watching my daughter play peek-a-boo with herself in the bathroom mirror. (it’s full length, and level with the floor) when she tired of giggling and hiding from herself, she entertained herself by french kissing the other little baby in the mirror. my little narcissist. i swear, she’s killing me once sleepless night and one unbearably cute little baby-thing at a time.

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