favors

so recently, butch has been doing really nice things for me. not that he doesn't always do nice things...he's a nice typa guy, but he's been doing things he normally doesn't do (and i'm not complaining, at all). for instance, last week when i got home from the gym, he had dinner made for us and was also feeding the kids. normally, i have something for him to throw in the oven or i make it when i get home. then yesterday, i was running errands and i came home to have the whole kitchen cleaned up and he was doing laundry (i thanked him, but was suspicious). finally, this morning i started my car and my tire pressure light was on. i've known for a while that i have a slow leak one of my rear tires, but i've been putting off getting it fixed. when i mentioned the light was on, he offered to take my car to work and then get it fixed on his way home (yes, please!). so three things that have been odd in the past couple of days, three favors...i wonder what the hell he wants. (just kidding...but not really.)

on the way home, he said that he was going to go to a nearby tire shop in our town...but they couldn't get the car in til tomorrow. so he went to another place that was farther away. (he sounded a little pissed, but i let it go.) i said aye aye captain, got the girls home, and was making dinner. my phone rang, i answered, and it was warren. "um, YO. where is your TIRE KEY?!?!" (my whaaaaa???) i had no idea what the hell he was talking about. "the key, for your tire. where is it. for your LUG NUTS. your tire. the KEY," he was rambling and getting hyper. (holy hell) i squawked, "i have no idea. in the glove box?!" now when that came out of my mouth, i had a flash in my brain of what was in my glove box, because fen had been rifling through it a few months ago. i knew that it was filled with miscellaneous junk...and i also knew that this was going to throw butch over the EDGE. i've mentioned before that he HATES my messy car, and gets irate when he has to deal with it. (clean house, messy car.) anyway, he said, "ok...i'll find it!" (boiling a little, i could tell.) and hung up.

i continued to make dinner and ella was running around the house laughing her head off about something (probably the fact that she crapped her pants). carrie was eating cheerios in her exersaucer in the kitchen, smiling at me. all was well on the homefront. until about a half hour later...when butch blew through the door and he was fit to be tied. "why the HELL do you have so much SHIT in your CAR!!??" (whoops.) he goes, "and thanks a LOT for telling me what was in your GLOVE BOX before i let the guys at the shop GO THROUGH IT ALL to find the KEY!?" (oh no.) he said, "thank GOD i told them it was my wife's car...otherwise they would've thought i was some type of CREEP!" he said, "do you know what was in the GLOVE BOX!?" (i was stifling laughter at this point, like biting my lip...cause i knew.) he said, "my GOD there was so much stuff, TRISH, so MUCH!...but my personal favorite was the THONG and the BREAST PADS!...you are one dildo short of a sex shop in there! (voice RAISED) I LOOKED LIKE A GODDAMN CREEP." (two hands on my knees, LOSING it at this point.) he was not laughing, at all. meanwhile, i couldn't breathe. he then said, "and AMONGST all that STUFF, they never found the KEY...so i wasted AN HOUR of my life." (i'm sorry?) and sidebar: both of those things are in my glovebox from when i was pregnant...you never know when you are going to need another pair of undergarments, and the "breast pads" were actually nursing pads. (it's been that long since i've cleaned out my car...oy.)

we ate dinner in silence, other than ella talking about everything she could remember from her day. i helped him give them a bath. (i didn't want to blow a gasket.) after the kids were in bed, i got a shower and then went downstairs to find him on the couch, drinking a brew. he shook his head at me and said, "i'm done with the favors...you are on your own with that one." he added, "but with this snowQUESTER we are supposed to have, i want you to get it done tomorrow." mr. weatherman himself has been obsessing the past couple of days about this storm we are supposed to get in maryland. in fact, he woke up this morning giddy as a school girl blabbering on about it. i was half awake (due to a carrie wake up call at 2am) and just nodded through the whole forecast. he proceeded to then show me maps and videos about the trajectory of the storm. (still nodding.) as i was brushing my teeth, he was filling me in on inch totals. (still nodding.)

his snowbeard is out in force and he is banking on at least one day off of school. i'll believe it when i see it...the weathermen know nothing. all i know is, i would've paid good money to see him standing there in his khaki pants, button down and boat shoes...while the guys in the garage were dissecting my mess of a car looking for that tire key. their facial expressions when they saw those underwear must've been priceless. he also mentioned there was a little asian man among them, giving him weird looks the whole time. (haaaa!) i think it's safe to say my favor run is over at the moment...but it was totally worth the laughs.

mayhem

i woke up yesterday morning, and i was at one speed...GO. in 4 hours i did 2 loads of laundry, went to the grocery store, lost my purse, found my purse, vacuumed downstairs, cleaned the kitchen, and had my gym clothes on ready to walk out the door (this was all before 11am). when i realized i lost my purse and was slamming things around the house looking for it, butch said, "seriously, trish, you need to get it together...you are making me goddamn nuts, i'm seriously ready to crack a beer just watching you." now normally, i don't sit still for too long...i'm always doing something. however, when i'm riding the red railroad, i feel like i need to get everything done...RIGHT. NOW. butch said that he thinks i don't actually bleed from the vagina...i bleed from the brain. i was on a goddamn mission...and speaking of missions, here we are at the end of another month already. two months into the bikini mission. (yikes.) 

i will be honest, i sucked this month. although i lost another 4 pounds, i'm pretty sure i did that in the past week. between traveling to my hometown (whaddup chicken cheesesteaks and yuengling) and polish weekend (booze and kielbasa galore)...food (and beer) won. also, when we are out of town i don't work out. oh, and on date night...i'm pretty sure i consumed my body weight in guacamole (you delicious green bastard), with about 2 baskets of chips AND washed it down with margaritas and malbec. (whoopsy.) all this being said, i am definitely getting physically stronger. i can run 5 miles in about 50 minutes (without puking or passing out). i also can do 20 pushups easily (if you are laughing, this is actually a big deal). i noticed also, that because i am eating in a different way...when i do eat crap, i feel like total crap. although i still love food, i have found it's not worth it to eat junk anymore because i physically feel terrible afterwards.

anyways, i am still a long way from a bikini...trust me. however, i'm getting there. this month we don't have too much going on, so i can focus more on my fitness goals, rather than it coming second (or fifth) to everything else going on. i feel really good, and actually had to buy some new jeans. i bought my first pair of "skinny" jeans...and this is funny because a few months ago, i tried on a pair of skinny jeans and laughed myself right outta the goddamn dressing room. i still feel like my legs are two sausages stuffed in casings in these things, but they actually look decent now (or so i think). my husband still doesn't understand why i want to go to the gym, or why i eat berries rather than bacon for breakfast...but when fen was over the other day, she mentioned that he looked a little plumper than normal. (hahah!) he said, "please stop, i'm sensitive about my weight." (fen and i almost fell off of the couch laughing...whatta fool.) on to month three...and hopefully less margaritas and mayhem.

month two done.

god

so today in my county, we had a school wide systemic lock down drill to practice what would happen, should a gunman enter our building. luckily, i was able to prep and practice with my class before the actual drill, because quite frankly…they didn’t understand the term “drill” and when i started discussing it with them, some of them got really scared. they believed that a “bad guy” really was going to enter the building at that moment. so then we had to discuss that this was just for practice in case something like this should really happen. (poor things.) anyway, our plan is to all go into the bathroom in my classroom and lock the door. i have to cover the window that is in my main door, and also pull down the blinds. all the lights need to be turned off...and all of them must remain silent through it all. (they are a gaggle of 5 year old giggle boxes, it was tough.) we practiced the first time, and 2 children started crying...because one of my biggest knuckleheads decided it was a great idea to flush the (extra loud) toilet and scare the bejeezus out of all us that were squashed in the pitch black bathroom. (little johnny. yes.) he thought it was hilarious, and i then had to explain how very serious this was. i think he got it. (but probably not.) anyway, the reason i am telling this story is because of this…shortly after we went through the drill, i sat the kids on the carpet and asked them if they had any questions. a bunch of hands shot up, and one of the little boys said this…”i just have one question…when it is dark in the bathroom and we are scared, are we allowed to pray?” (wow.) i explained to him that he could most definitely pray, as long as it was silently, and then he went on to say…”well i would pray to god for everyone to be safe, like me…all of my friends, and you, too, mrs. scheib.  oh, and i don’t like the dark either, so i would pray that it would get light soon.” (i had a moment and had to pull myself together.)  soon after, we dove into a discussion about god. i didn’t mean for the discussion to go there, but it did and because i teach in a charter school…i have the freedom to discuss such things as religion. and of course, some of the things the kids were saying were hilarious. for instance, did you know that god lives in outer space and has a house on the moon? (i didn’t!) did you know that he played football when he was a kid? (i had no idea.) did you know that god had a fight with the devil to see who would live in heaven, and he won? (nope!) did you know that he learned kung fu when he was younger? (no way!) they were spewing out these “facts” about god and i was internally losing it. (it was funny stuff.) however, i was really touched by that first simple question…”are we allowed to pray?” in most schools these days, the answer is no. can you imagine? this five year old realized that this was a very scary thing that was bigger than him, bigger than all of us…so much so that we had to hide in a dark bathroom together and lock the door. he went to another place…he looked to god to comfort him. he’s five. the whole thing kinda blew my mind. my point is this…i am not an overtly religious person, nor do I go to church often. however, i do believe in god. i believe that there is something bigger than myself out there, and i believe that everything happens for a reason. i find all of this talk about pushing god out of our schools truly absurd. taking “under god” out of the pledge of allegiance that we recite everyday? ridiculous. not allowing children to pray in school? terrible. while crammed in the dark bathroom standing silently with all of my students today, i couldn't help imagining how very scared those teachers and students must’ve been in connecticut, or during any other school shooting. it shook me just to PRACTICE it…and it shook the children as well. i’d imagine that the real thing would be truly terrifying. however, i do know one thing for sure…if something such as that did happen at my school, i sincerely hope that god would be there amongst me and the little people...wearing a football uniform or an astronaut suit for good measure.

batman

god made babies this cute for one reason and one reason only...so you don't hate them. (don't laugh, i'm serious.) i am at my very wits end of this whole waking up in the middle of the night thing. carrie is almost 9 months, and she is still not consistently sleeping through the night. (still.) nine months of feeling like the walking dead. nine months of being highly emotional due to lack of sleep. nine months of feeling like caffeine is the only answer to sanity. (nine months.) the thing is...she's a baby. she does whatever the hell she wants. she doesn't give a hoot if i'm tired or not. she has basic needs...food, sleep, and crappin' her pants. (in no particular order.) that's about it. oh...and she needs love, too. i'm willing to love her right now...but godamnit, i don't have to like her.

i enjoy how everyday is like a motherhood math equation to try figure out how i can get her to sleep all night. for example, if she sleeps for 2 hours at nap time, has a bottle at 4, has gerber food at dinner, cereal before bed, and then a bottle...SURELY she'll sleep. (nope, just kiddin.) so then it's back to the drawing board...like albert infant einstein. okay, so i'll feed her at 5, give her a bath at 7, give her 8oz at bedtime, another at 9pm...and THEN she'll sleep? (nope, jokes on me.) and everyone and their mother (literally) has advice on how to make a baby sleep through the night...and although i appreciate the advice, i'll go back to the point that she is a baby. (she does whatever. the. hell. she. wants.) i've tried everything...i mean, wouldn't you? my particular favorite was the "cry it out" method, when she (and her lungs) then also woke up ella...so it was 4am and i not only had a baby awake, i had a toddler awake as well. (that was extra fun.)

it's partly my fault that this responsibility falls on me, and solely me. i've stated before that you could drive a bulldozer through our bedroom and butch wouldn't bat an eye. he and his ballsack are sound asleep as soon as they hit the bed. i, on the other hand, have become a light sleeper since having kids...because i'm like a mommy ninja. (insert air karate chop.) any noise startles me awake, and i'm at the ready for any toddler or baby emergency. actually, i'm like a braless baby batman. the thing is, if i asked butch to wake up and feed carrie in the middle of the night, he would. however, when i ask him to do these types of things...he acts as if i'm asking him to donate his left testicle to science. (i kid you not.) when i told him this morning that i had "had it" with waking up in the middle of the night...he suggested that there must be something wrong with carrie and i should probably take her to the doctor. (good one.)

so this is just another chapter i will add to my "shit they don't tell you in the other parenting books" memoire. chapter 103: nine months after you give birth, your baby may still not be sleeping through the night, suck it up buttercup. i remember (vaguely) it was this way with ella too, and just when i was about to (seriously) lose my shit...she started sleeping through the night. (oh, and then a month later she started teething. joy.) for the love of all things holy, this kid...this extra cute chubby cherub, better start sleeping through the night. soon. either that, or this braless baby batman is going to fly away to barbados and never come back. good riddance and a good night of sleep...please and thank you. the end.

date

sooo my mom decided to randomly visit yesterday AND offered to watch the kids so that butch and i could go out for a dinner date. it was kinda like winning the lottery yesterday when she called...a free babysitter on a saturday night? yes, please. butch and i never go out and do anything alone anymore...if we have a sitter, we tend to also involve 38 of our closest friends to hang out as well. not that we don't enjoy each other, cause we do...it's just that we don't get to hang out with people socially without our kids anymore, so we look forward to that as well. truth be told, we've never been a really romantic, take me out on a date kinda couple...we were friends first, so we skipped that whole "courting" stage. our story goes like this...we were friends, started banging in college, got married, had two kids and the rest is history. (fairytale we are not.) however, given the chance to go out  to dinner without an arsenal of highchairs, fingerfoods, sippy cups, and placemats that you can color on...is very inviting. we were pumped.

before going out, i thought i would help my mom bathe the kids and get them ready for bed. i was straightening my hair and putting on my makeup while ella was splashin' in the tub. (no shit sharks this time.) she kept asking me questions like, "what you doing?", "where you going?", "why you do your hair?" she knew something was up. i don't usually take my time getting ready. i usually shower, whip my hair into a ponytail, throw on some mascara and that is the end of my beauty regimen. she was staring at me with a stink eye the whole time. then, i went to get her out and she stood up, looked me dead in the eye and said, "I NOT GET OUT, BECAUSE YOU NOT WASH MY BUTT!" (correct, i forgot to wash your butt. my god.) after washing her butt, and putting two kids in jammies...i was ready to skip out the door. (run. i was ready to run out the door.) i was getting my stuff together, and realized i  couldn't find my drivers license. (butch gets super annoyed when i lose shit.) i said, "i can't find my ID." he sighed, rolled his eyes...and then walked into the kitchen, grabbed a bag of chips and started shoveling into his mouth (staring at me) while i was running around looking for it. (he was extra hungry, as per usual.)

after 15 minutes of searching, i never found it. sidebar: the only reason this was a big deal is because i'm 5 foot and look like i'm 12, so i get carded everywhere. i wanted to have a drink at dinner, obviously. butch was starting to get the hunger shakes, so we went without it and hoped for the best. we walked into the restaurant and i was like a nervous underager hoping i would get served. (i'm 30 for godsakes.) butch ordered drinks for both of us at the bar while we waited for a table, and the bartender was eyeballing me the whole time. i smiled to show him i was not, in fact, wearing braces. he smiled back, and did not card me. (phewww.) we had a super yummy mexican meal and our conversation consisted of our kids, work, and ways butch is going to seek revenge on friends of ours that poured gin in his beer bong in the poconos. (intelligent conversation indeed.) after dinner, i said, "is it wrong that i just want to go home and go to bed?" he said, "no...i want to do that too, i'm full as shit!" (rubbing his belly. classy.) however, we didn't want to "waste" our night doing what we always do, so we stopped at a bar on the way home. (and that's when the fun started.)

we went to a place that we frequent often, so i knew i wasn't going to get carded. however, we are usually there early for dinner with our kids, and not on a saturday night. we walked in and the place. was. PACKED. every person in there was WOUND up. it was $1 natty lite can night...with a crowd to match. i pushed my way to a high top and asked an odd looking pair if anyone was sitting in the two empty chairs at their table. they said no, so i sat down while butch got us some beers. i did a scan of the place and realized that besides one other couple, we were the oldest ones in there. also, although i felt pretty hot in my sweater dress prior to walking in there...i realized that in this setting, i was dressed like a grandma. (tits and ass a plenty at this place.) moreover, butch was in a collared shirt and sweater and stated in that moment that he felt like he was dressed for church.

we sat there taking it all in, and the guy next to me turned and said, "we are having an argument over who is older...her, or me. can you help us out?" (he was dead serious.) he pointed to the girl across the table, who was sitting next to butch. i said, "well there is an easy way to figure this out...when are your birthdays?" (jesus christ. effing idiot.) she said (really excited)," mine is december 31st, 1990!!!" (omg.) he said, "mine is april 16th, 1990!!" (holy crap.) i said, "ok, well do the math (or do you need me to do it, young feller?)... and my birthday is april 16th, too. he then grabbed me, and hugged me violently. "YOU MEAN WE HAVE THE SAME BIRTHDAY!?" i said, 'yes...our mothers both gave birth on the same day.' he then said matter of factly, "i went to Brown." i wasn't sure where he was going with this, but i think he wanted me to be impressed with his place of higher education. (i wasn't.) quite honestly, i don't give a shit if you went to harvard, yale, or didn't go to college at all...if you are an idiot, you are an idiot. (period.) this guy was an idiot. i said, "good for you!" (i didn't know what else to say?) shortly after this assinine birthday conversation, everyone started yelling and plastering themselves up against the windows. someone yelled, "FIIIIGHHHHHTTT!!!!" (holy shit.)

so there butch and i sat, while everyone was pushing to get a good view of the carnage. a perky blondie hopped by the table and said, "so this is what happened...there is a girl in a yellow skirt, who was just having SEX with a guy in a CAR out there. BUT it wasn't her car, it was her BOYFRIEND'S car....and the guy she was SCREWING, wasn't her boyfriend. he was in here." (please god let my birthday buddy be the boyfriend.) shortly after gossip girl filling us in, a chick that was completely hammered, wearing a yellow skirt stumbled back into the bar...and people were screaming expletives at her. i'm pretty sure her problem solving skills were not in order, because coming back INTO the bar after humping some dude that is not your boyfriend, in your boyfriends car...while your boyfriend watches from the bar was not a good choice. apparently the boyfriend (who, sadly, was not my birthday buddy.) went out to pound the shit out of the dude that was doing his girlfriend...and that's when the cops showed up. three cop cars peeled into the parking lot, lights blazing, and butch and i were still sitting in the same place sipping the same beer. he said, "what the hell is going on here? this is crazy." i agreed...but i'm not surprised that this would happen on our date night. (such is our life. crazy.) shortly after this, the bar cleared out, and we had another beer and decided it was best we just went home. (before anything else ridiculous happened.)

and so, our date night turned out to be a cross between a taping of COPS and jerry springer. (naturally.) we had a good time but realized that however crazy our children make our lives, it's not nearly as crazy as $1 natty lite night at the bar. although it was fun to watch the show unfold...we would've been happier on the couch with coors lights and an episode of dateline. i couldn't help but wonder what a colossal mess yellow skirt girl woke up to this morning...certainly it was a bigger mess than the crappy diapers woke up to. moreover, i'll take shitty diapers over those shenanigans any day of the week.

crazy

monday: the week started ass backwards because we were out of town last weekend. saturday and sunday are usually spent cleaning and preparing for the week, and since i didn't have that time...my house looks like a cyclone hit it and i felt like i was running 32 steps behind. anyways, the week started with me running around monday morning like a horse's ass, trying to get the kids packed for the sitter.

i got through the day (with the help of my friend caffeine), picked the kids up at the sitter, came home...and that's when miss carrie proceeded to choke on a LEAF that the dog had drug in from outside. she was playing on the floor while i was making dinner and i heard her coughing, so i went out in the room, panicked...and pulled an entire brown leaf out of her mouth/throat. she is at the stage where everything goes in her chops. she will find the ONE thing in the room she isn't supposed to have (ie/ a leaf) and shove it in her mouth. (aye.) shortly after this, ella threw a tantrum because i told her she had to sit and eat dinner with butch and i and she said, "i not like you." (oh. well do you like a time out? cause that's where you are headed.) i said, "you don't have to like me, but you do have to eat with me...get out here." she then fell limp on the floor and laid there face down...like i shot her. i've been having issues lately with disciplining...like i can't stop laughing when i am doing it. i can't help it, she's super funny...and then i have to turn around and muffle my laughter. she got over it after a while and joined us, but the whole tantrum took about 10 minutes of my life i would like to have back. 

tuesday: we were on the way to the sitters in the morning and ella sneezed a violent sneeze in the back seat. i said, "bless you!" and she then yelled...."oH NOOOO my boogies everywhere." (cripes. too early for this.) i told her at the next stop light i would get her a tissue out of the glove box. so we stopped a few minutes later, i reached over, got out a tissue (dunkin donuts napkin), turned around and said, "do you still need this?" she said, "no..." i replied, "well where did the boogies go!?" she said..."oh...my just use my hand." (oh gees.) carrie also pulled some scams in the middle of the night on tuesday...i went in after i heard cries and she was STARING AT ME over the rungs of the crib. may not sound like a big deal, but before this, she never stood up in her crib (nor was the matress ever lowered) so she startled me big time. i walked in there about 2:30am, with one eye open and nearly shat myself when we made eye contact. (i gasped.) she was crying for a bottle, but i also believe she was crying because she stood up and didn't know how to get back down. (i love when babies learn to do new things and then proceed to practice them at awesome times...like the middle of the night.) add "lower crib" to the to do list warren.

wednesday: butch had to work late this night and after work, ella and i had a potty stand off. this is what happened...i came upstairs to change out of my work skirt and ella walked in. she proceeded to say, "ooooo, i like your underwearssss!!" i said, "do you want to wear some of your own underwearS?" she said yes. (finally!) so after i got dressed i went over to her room and got out some spankin' new dora (which she calls dory) underwears. she put them on. then stared at me. and said, "um, i gotta poop."(like seconds later.) so we rushed over to the bathroom and i held her on the big potty. (this was after a 5 minute debate of whether or not she wanted to go on her potty, or the big potty.) she sat there (with me holding her), for about 5 minutes. (no poop.) so she gets off the potty, pulls up her underwears. stares at me and says (you guessed it.) "ummm...i gotta poop." this charade went on for about a half an hour...and what could i do?! i didn't want her to shit in her dory drawers, but i didn't have an hour to assist her on the pot. so, i decided to compromise and take her potty downstairs and let her sit on it in the living room, while i made dinner. here's a visual:

carrie was in her exersaucer staring at her sister like she had lost her mind. (she does this often.) i had to crate penelope because she kept walking by and licking ella, who would scream because she couldn't do anything about it. she sat there for at least FORTY minutes...and not one turd. she had a minor meltdown when i made her get off the potty to eat dinner, because she swore her, "poop was comin' out." (her words.) it was excellent dinner conversation. later that night, fen came over to roll halupkis for our upcoming pocono polish weekend. (booze, polish food, and snow. all good things.) she blew threw the door in a trench coat with the hood up...pulling an oversized cooler and about 48 heads of cabbage hanging over her arm in sack. it was about 8pm at this point, and i had just sat down on the couch. i shot right back to up roll some polish delicacies. at about 9:30pm, warren sauntered in the door after his long day of work (he had an open house after school)...fen and i were still in the kitchen (rolling) and he had a bouquet of flowers. i said, "what's with the flowers?" he said...tomorrow is valentine's day. i said, "but you hardly ever get me flowers." he said (dead serious), "i expect sexual favors in return." (is this really happening?! who says that!") fen was flabbergasted, i made a 'seriously!?' face, and then butch started laughing his ass off. nothing says i love you and please screw me...like a bouquet of flowers that your husband got at the check out line in food lion. (and of COURSE they were on sale...discount or die for that guy.)

thursday: the day started without any issues from my own two chickadees, but when i got to school i braced myself for the pandemonium that i knew was going to ensue. any day that is not a "normal" day at school goes pretty smoothly at this point in the year...however, if you throw in a holiday (such as valentine's day), all bets are off. cupcakes and craziness galore. my class was bonkers most of the day, and by lunchtime i thought that maybe a trip to chucky cheese would be more enjoyable. after the last cupcake was served, i hightailed it outta there and went to the gym. i pounded out 5 miles on the treadmill and felt awesome when i left. i got home and butch had just gotten in with the kids...carrie was on the floor playing (probably looking for more leaves) and ella ran over and gave me a hug. she then said, "EWW mommy, you all fetty!!!" i said, "yes, i'm sweaty because i was running." (don't judge me kid, you wiped a nose full of boogers off your face with your hand.) after dinner, two loads of laundry, cleaning a bathroom, vacuuming upstairs and downstairs, packing the kids up for the weekend, bathtime, bedtime, and making a huge pan of halushki (also polish)...i sat down on the couch with a glass of wine. i turned to look at butch and thought, if you want to cash in those food lion flowers right now...i very may well kick you in the dick. he said, "wanna watch a dateline?" (we do this often...watch DVR'd episodes of datelines, that is.) nothing says happy valentine's day like watching a real life murder mystery. afterwards, we were in bed by 10pm. (we. are. old.) (for more on my valentine's day thoughts...click here love)

friday: and so...now we come to friday. (TGI mother effing F.) this weekend, butch and i will be spending our time with 12 of our craziest friends in the poconos for "polish day". (a holiday fen made up a few years ago. see polish day for more details.) the last time we were away from our children over night was SIX months ago...for a wedding. this shit happens very rarely, and whenever it does...i get SUPER excited. taking care of little people around the clock is rewarding, yet...extremely EXHAUSTING. (any mother can relate.) to have a few days where i don't have to think about princesses or poop is so very awesome. i plan on slamming beers, laughing, and enjoying my friends. (like old times...except i'll probably be thinking about my kids periodically and wondering what they are doing.) one of my friends called this week and asked me if i knew what the, "sleeping situation" (ie/air mattresses vs. beds) was at the house we are going to. i replied that i hadn't even thought about it and if have to sleep in the bathtub with a shampoo bottle as a pillow, i'd be happy. (he laughed, but i was dead serious.) all i know is...i don't have to wake up in the middle of the night with an infant, nor do i have to wake up at the ass crack of dawn either...for two whole nights and two whole mornings. (yeeeeeehawww.) 

this week has been completely crazy. (more so than other weeks) and i am thankful for the much needed break (ie/parental vacation) this weekend. however, i will still miss my children terribly...i know this as well. i've also concluded with the amount of kielbasa, halupkis, periogies, mac & cheese, halushki, and beer i'm going to consume...i'm going to pack on a few pocono pounds. (i've accepted this fact and moved on. bring on the beer and 'basa, baby.) cheers to the weekend...the poconos, polish food...and shampoo bottles as pillows. 

cheeseburgers

so, i debated on sharing this...but then thought why the hell not, i share everything else. and maybe, someone can relate or maybe you don't give a rats ass...either way, here goes nothing. so i mentioned in a previous post that i have a goal to wear a bikini this summer. (yikes.) i have just wrapped up the first month of being more contentious about what is going in my mouth, and also completed a months worth of workouts. truth be told, i feel pretty awesome. the exercising piece is not very hard for me...because i look at it as time for myself. something i can do for myself and no one else. i think moms get burnt out because they get so tired of taking care of everyone and everything else. you put yourself last, not because you want to...but it feels selfish not to. the little people that live in my house can't take care of themselves, and the portly husband also struggles with it as well. (not to mention the cat and dog, who can't take care of themselves either.) it's exhausting. therefore, the gym (or a run) is actually like a vacation for me. even though i'm usually thinking about stuff i need to get done around the house, or other responsibility type things...i still enjoy it. i'm alone, endorphins are pumping, and i'm actually having fun. (really.) today at the gym a younger guy gave me a wink and a wave...i smiled back, but was thinking...easy young feller, you don't want to ride this crazy train. i have more baggage than you took with you to your freshman year of college. (trust me.)

now as for the nutritional piece, i live with a man who would eat meat and potatoes until it came out of his ears. he also loves junk food, fast food...any type of food, really. when i left for the gym yesterday, he was on the couch slamming a container of heluva good dip and a bag of ruffles. (beer in his other hand.) he looked up when he saw me and was like, "i just don't get why you would want to go to the gym. it's saturday! want some chips instead??" (no, warren...i don't want any chips.) i told him i would be back in an hour and he goes, "wo, that's a serious workout." (ummm..not really.) he had also confessed that two days this past week, he stopped at wendy's on the way home from work and got a cheeseburger, ate it in the car, and then threw the wrapper outside in the recycling bin so i wouldn't see it. (what the hell.) he was laughing hysterically when he told me this, and said i just wasn't making enough food for him for dinner and he was hungry. he also stated that for every pound i lose, he was going to gain two. (awesome.) so you see where i am going with this, i don't have much nutritional support at home...my husband just doesn't care. he revels in his pleasantly plump figure and always states that he's going to die from something, and he sure isn't going to be hungry when doing so. (dear lord.)

the other piece to this was the fact that i decided to cut out booze during the week. i will say, the first week was pretty hard. i was used to having a glass (or five) of wine after dinner every night. butch usually comes in the door and cracks a beer after work (and his secret cheeseburger), and has two or three. so this became part of our nightly routine. after the first week though, i was actually sleeping better and feeling better...so i didn't really want or need it. (however, when friday rolls around...you bet your sweet ass the wine & coors lite's a flowin'...and the past couple of weekends, i did it up on friday night, so didn't even drink on saturday night.) however, this past week on thursday...friends of mine came over to watch grey's anatomy (don't judge.)...one of those friends being fen. so i was sitting on the couch, butch was on his third guinness and my friend walks in the door...and proceeds to whip a water bottle full of white wine out of her purse, i guess poured from her box at home? (yesss.) then, fen saunters in the door with a plastic miller lite cup full of red wine and stated she wasn't sure if i would have any in the house. and so you see, being on the wagon is also a difficult task in my world. i remember being pregnant and thinking everyone around me had a drinking problem. that thursday night, i did give in and had one glass of wine...and my two friends and husband actually cheered and clapped when i poured myself a goblet. (ayeayeaye.)

and so, as the first month of this business comes to a close...i am feeling pretty stellar. i am down 7 pounds, and seeing changes in my body and my overall health. (woot.) i have set goals for myself in february and will strive to meet them, despite the challenges that my (crazy) life throws at me. (i am motivated by you people who also share fitness goals...that's why i'm sharing mine.) bring on month 2...along with a side platter of secret cheeseburgers for my husband.

one month done.