full house! and Operation Bootylicious, take 2,000

After a lovely and tiring 5 days with friends doing awesome lake stuff, Rader Tater returned to me last night. It was great to see him again and hear about his exploits and how awesome his trip was. I met “Grammy and Pops” his friend’s grandparents, and they had nothing but love for Rader. “He’s such a sweet boy. So polite and well-mannered and fun. You’ve done a great job.” Well, so far. Yes. LOL There’s still time for me to screw him up. I’m working on it!

pin_up_exerciseOPERATION BOOTYLICIOUS is back on track.

I’ve managed the diet portion of my health and fitness journey, but I keep falling off the exercise wagon. I loved Booty Camp and miss it…but when you’re saving money, organized bootcamps are not necessary expenses. Also, the times were so hard for me to work in. The best class was Mon/Wed at 7:15, but those are my days with the boys…and I really don’t like giving up my time with them for the gym. Tues/Thurs would be perfect, but they didn’t offer anything at night. And sadly, no matter how hard I try, I cannot get to a 5 a.m. class. I’m just not a morning person.

And those of you who are…YOU ARE NOT HUMAN.

I walk 2-4 times a week with Marissa at lunch. And that’s great, because it keeps me moving, but I have GOT to add a more hardcore exercise program to my weekly regimen.

So, starting tonight, Welcome to MELF’s BOOTYLICIOUS COMPOUND.pin-up-girl-on-scale

Instead of leaving my kids to go workout, we’re going to start working out together. I’m putting together a 40 minute HIIT workout and then we’re gonna do 15 minutes of abs. And it’s gonna be awesome.

Here’s this week’s workout…

Do every exercise for 2 minutes. Repeat once.

  • 2 minute warm up run
  • Walking lunges,  10lb weights
  • Jumping jacks
  • Squats (8 regular/8 pulses)
  • Jump on trampoline
  • Narrow Squat With Overhead Press
  • Line drills with medicine ball
  • Push ups
  • wall sit
  • Tricep curls
  • jump rope

This will be a 40 minute workout. Then abs.

I’ll report back tomorrow. If I can walk. Type. Or breathe.

Oh…check out this awesome blog post. 25 things fat people shouldn’t do. #19 Run.

You know, I keep reading these motivational quotes, images, posters, and what nots from people who THINK they are helping us big girls. But the problem is, shit like this doesn’t help. Because DUH. We know this:

getting-back-into-exercise-389x435If wishing worked, my Booty would make Beyonce’s look like a squishy marshmallow.

We know it’s hard work. I’m not lazy. I’m strong as hell. My legs will crush you like rotten nut if you give me a chance. I have lots of muscle under my layer of fluff. And I really don’t have a problem with being a woman of substance. HOWEVER. I want to be healthy. I’d like to ween myself off the BP meds if I can. I’d also like to get my toned arms back. I don’t know what happens with me. I do well with exercise, but not diet. Or I do well with diet but not exercise. It’s like I have fitness ADHD!

Either way, maybe working out with my kids and Jefe will make a difference. I know I enjoy walking more when I have someone to walk with…so, I’ll keep you posted on Operation Bootylicious. Hopefully you’ll be seeing less of me soon. *wink*

exercise-motivation-quotes-weight-loss-work-out-lose-weight-15_large

The problem with this? I’m done, when I’m tired. UGH.

Independence Day…

Tomorrow is Independence Day in the US. And many of us will celebrate by eating too much, drinking too much, and blowing stuff up. Very American!

My kiddo is traveling with his friend to the lake where I hope he’ll have a great time. This is our first year sans lakehouse, since my parents sold their place in the winter. It sucks because I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t at the lake celebrating the holiday.

Maybe I’ll buy a kiddie pool and just hang out in the sun. I could also jump on the trampoline. And then blow stuff up.

I was chatting with the mom of Rader’s friend this morning and she was giving me all the details of the trip, where they’re gonna be, and that there will be 2 pediatric doctors with them so I don’t have to worry. And I laughed and replied that I’m not a big worrier.

It’s funny, because you would think I would be a worrier, given the fact that child has broken his nose 6 times since he was 18 months old…And because he doesn’t seem to have any real fear. He’ll try just about anything– once.

But I don’t worry. He’s really a good kid. He’s one of the most respectful and smart boys his age and I’m so happy to know that I’ve done my job right. I get constant compliments on him. His manners, his charm, his sincerity. He is kind. (He is smart. He is important.) I don’t have to lecture him to feel like I’m parenting. I don’t have to demand things from him, and rarely do I have to yell at him. El Jefe and I were talking about it the other day, how awesome it is that both of the boys rarely need a lecture. We figure we have to “get on to them” about twice a year. And that’s usually because they slack off on their chores around the house.

Twice a year. heh.

It’s so nice not to have to yell about everything or threaten them. I love a drama-free life.

I have great kids.

School's OUT FOR SUMMER

It’s obvious I am being rewarded for being even more awesome in another life.

Now…who has a pool and wants to invite Jefe and I over tomorrow? We’ll bring things to blow up! And beer. We’ll definitely bring beer.

Happy 4th! Celebrate your freedoms. Even if you’re a woman, and your freedoms are slowly being taken away from you. Celebrate what you have while you have it!

flaggirl

getting all inside the beauty of my trip. and even better, inside the beauty of #equalrights

FYI, the reference of “inside the beauty” comes from a creeper message on Facebook. We have taken this on as a new turn-of-phrase. And we modify it on occasion. If we get up inside your beauty, you know we mean business.

New message from the Other Inbox: Please to be my friend, pretty lady? You have very much beauty and I want to get inside your beauty.

Check out my pictures on Instagram from our trip to Iowa and Illinois.

The trip was breathtakingly beautiful. Every damn time I looked out the window, it was like looking at a postcard.

El Jefe’s family was amazing. So welcoming and fun.

Image

Image

After Iowa, we spent a lovely day with David and Kyle in Chicago enjoying the hell out of PrideFest.

1010181_10152014715537907_969093930_nYes. That’s Gaymart. The happiest store on earth.

Speaking of PrideFest…YAY SCOTUS! You made the right decision striking down DOMA. All Americans should have equal rights. Marriage is a human right. Period. And frankly, “separate but equal” has never worked…and it is not really equal. So. Let’s all get Gay Married! Okay, I know everything isn’t done yet, but striking down DOMA is a huge step in the right direction.

1010523_10200833793741159_975665454_n

You Just Broke Your Child. Congratulations.

You Just Broke Your Child. Congratulations..

 

I’ll write a real post tomorrow talking about my awesome trip. But I read this today, and felt the need to share it. Parenting isn’t easy. It isn’t about controlling or yelling or tearing your child down or making your child feel worthless because he/she disappointed you. And this blog post really applies to every parent on earth. Read it. Apply it to your life.

 

take me for a ride on your big green tractor…

You think my tractor's sexy.

You think my tractor’s sexy.

Oh John Deere! I can’t wait to see your museum this weekend!

I was thinking I should wear something awesome to commemorate the visit. Is this “dress” too much?

If I put a pink camo John Deere trucker hat on with it, will that dress it down just right?

Of course, if I were to wear this “dress” I’d have to make a few adjustments. Like add about 3 feet of material at the bottom. The neckline is pretty much perfect for my girls…but I would probably want to wear a tank top so as not to overwhelm all the old farmers who are hanging around.

Okay, I’m kidding. Well, not about the pink camo trucker hat..but the dress? Only for Halloween. You know. When it’s appropriate to be a Slutty Tractor.

Even Ruby loves to John Deere Dream

Even Ruby loves to John Deere Dream

When you spend as much time on a John Deere Tractor as I do, you tend to develop a bit of a crush. So, it’s only natural that I would be overly-excited about my time at the museum. I can’t wait to sit on a combine. I hope I don’t get kicked out…

El Jefe has a family reunion in Iowa, so we are going to enjoy our time on the Mississippi River while I get to meet his family. I really hope his grandfather comes. The stories about him are always fantastic.

Once the reunion is over, we’re headed to Chicago for 1 night. I’ve never been before, and I know 1 night isn’t enough time, but…it’s PrideFest on Sunday! So it’s like the stars have aligned to make sure Chicago will be full of extra sparkle and fabulousness for my arrival. Thank you, STARS!

In a Walgreens update, I was contacted by the company yesterday after they read my blog. They’ve opened a ticket to investigate the complaint, which I do appreciate. The more I hear from people in my town, the more I realize that this Walgreens in particular seems to refuse to fill narcotic prescriptions on a regular basis. They are “out” a lot and “don’t know when they’ll have more in.” Well, that pretty much makes them the shittiest pharmacy ever if their purpose is to fill prescriptions and they rarely do. IT’S NOT YOUR JOB TO MONITOR OUR MEDS. That is called “Practicing out of the scope of your position.”

Walgreens. You’re fired.

parenting ain’t easy.

c9579d13b4d68148f452ece83e014311Even when your kid is an adult (legally, that is.)

I’ve always encouraged my kids to find themselves. To find a dream and pursue it and most of all, to find happiness and keep it.

The key to happiness is always going to be from within, so for me, the most important life lesson I can teach them is to be happy. I’ve often said I don’t care how you get there, or when you get there, just get there. I remember as a teen, not knowing what I wanted to be as an adult, and feeling caught between two worlds. The world where I couldn’t disappoint my parents and the world where I couldn’t find my footing for fear of disappointing my parents.

So I did everything in my power to fulfill my parents desires. I went to school. (failed my first year of college, went to another school, graduated summa cum laude) then went back to my original school and did the same. Graduated with honors.

And I was miserable for the next 10 years because I didn’t have focus, or drive, or any idea what I wanted to be now that I was an adult.

I don’t wish that on anyone. Especially my children.

We’re at a crossroads with my oldest. He’s not working, and he needs to be. He is looking–and he’s looking hard. I’ve been helping him for months. He’s a teenager–so he makes stupid decisions sometimes. Didn’t we all? I talk to him every day. I don’t nag him or yell at him because he responds negatively to that and shuts down. He’s just oppositional enough that he will do exactly the opposite of what you want if you bark at him and chastise him. I’ve learned over the years to talk to him like an adult and try to give him the room to make mistakes and learn from them. I’ve supported him financially and emotionally. And I will continue to do so for a little while longer.

I may be making a mistake by parenting him this way, but threats don’t work. They never have! I used to call him a chameleon child. It didn’t matter the punishment you doled out, he adapted to it. We took EVERYTHING out of his room one time–he played with pennies he found in the corner. We offered to pay him for his grades; that wasn’t motivating. We yelled, spanked, tore our hair out…he didn’t change anything. He’s adaptable. He needs to do things himself. So I’m trying so hard to let him.

But damn, I sometimes just want to scream at him. Luckily for both of us, I’m smarter than that. I learned a long time ago that doesn’t work. That I had to adapt my parenting style to accommodate his personality and learning style. (I just wish others could do the same…)

He and I have a great relationship. When we talk, he’s honest as am I. He needs to get his shit together, and he knows it. He’s working on it…on his time. And I’m fighting with everything in my being to allow him to do that, because I remember being that kid. Stuck between childhood and adulthood, wanting to please my parents…wanting to do what was right…and losing myself in the end. But if I allow him to do this himself, he’ll be a better man for it.

Ugh.

Parenting ain’t easy.

Ruby Tuesday!

Welcome to Tuesday! Where I will, from now on, feature a new pitiful picture of my pug RUBY.

WHY SO SAD RUBY? Oh never mind, you just caught up on the Red Wedding, didn't you?

WHY SO SAD RUBY? Oh never mind, you just caught up on the Red Wedding, didn’t you?

Oh, Ruby. It’s so hard being you.

Sunday morning, I finally tried to pull myself out of bed and was all “It’s time to get out of bed, Ruby.” And this was her response:

pitifully shuffle on her belly to my leg, and “flump” her head down with a giant sigh, in the crook of my knee while staring at me with such a wretched stare, that I had to lie back to overcome the sadness.

the sadness--it overtakes you.

the sadness–it overtakes you.

I read this article today about a large-breasted teen who was denied entry to her prom because her boobs were too big. She was told to wear a wrap around her shoulders or she wouldn’t be allowed entrance.

I feel your pain, sister. Your back pain, that is...

I feel your pain, sister. Your back pain, that is…

Her parents are asking for a public apology because they don’t feel the “no cleavage” rule was actually being fairly enforced. As her mother said “All women are not created equal, and you can not compare a golf ball to a grapefruit. It ain’t gonna happen.”

Damn right.

That dress is very age appropriate and lovely. Shame on that school for shaming her for what she comes by naturally.

This stupid head cold of mine is trying to kick my ass. And now, I’ve spread my germs to Jefe. We are THE HOUSE OF THE INFECTED. Enter at your own risk.

My mom called from Down Under yesterday. She’s having a great time! They were just at The Ayers Rock and were heading to Queensland. She’s going to New Zealand soon. All-in-all she will be Down Under for almost a month! I’m so happy that she’s fulfilling her dream! Let’s hope that when I’m 74, I’ll be able to rock life like she does. IF THIS STUPID COLD LET’S ME LIVE THAT LONG.

 

save the drama for your momma

Sigh.

Rader is a bit of a drama queen so when he yells and cries, we never know how serious it is. He is the king of “crying wolf” over being hurt. (when he wants attention. When he’s in his own world, he can break his nose and never stop moving. We know this to be true because it has happened…)

So tonight when he started howling and bellowing and hopping around, we were slow to react. But then the howling and bellowing got louder and had a sharp intensity to it that told me “Hm. Maybe this time he did something.”

I run down the stairs where Fishdog is already hovering over Rader yelling “TELL ME WHAT YOU DID. WHAT DID YOU DO! WHERE DOES IT HURT!” So we have Fishdog yelling and Rader bellowing and Ruby bouncing around like it’s the fucking Pug Day Parade and I’m not sure if I need to laugh or cry with Rader.

Apparently he stumped his toe while playing with Ruby. It’s bleeding at the base of his toenail (which is sadly in need of trimming). I’m worried it might be broken because it’s almost doubled in size and Rader is still in pain (it’s been almost an hour). We’ve iced it, propped it up, and he’s taken some Advil. I’ve called the doctor’s office and we have an appt. tomorrow, just in case.

Seriously, it’s gonna suck if his toe is broken. He’s playing AAU Basketball this summer, is trying out for Classic Soccer starting next week, and was supposed to have 2 soccer camps this month. Poor boy is screwed if his big toe is broken.

Here are some pics. If you don’t like feet pictures, look no further. (Maria, this means you.)

preparation h…

In which H stands for HAIRCUTS.

I have been dreading this moment since we decided to move back to Little Rock. We’ve decided the boys will be going to Catholic school and with that decision comes the realization they can’t be my long-haired-hippy-boys any longer.

I put off the hair cuts as long as possible. Today was d-day. I’m still not happy about it….

But here are my boys. Cute as they can possibly be…just missing a lot of hair. (ps: Rader does NOT have a bowl cut…he just refuses to do anything with it…so there ya go.)

Rader:


Is he a goofball or what?
Ian: