That La Kid

wishin' an' hopin'!

bloggin’ bloggin’ bloggin’

Tom and I took Bruce and Jasmine for a very unsuccessful walk last night with the new, way cool jogging stroller.  We usually do 5 laps around the big Bridle Trace circle.  Bruce started wailing on lap 1.  He was just really tired.  We were able to pacify him for a while, but Tom ended up taking him home early while I went on lap 3.  I walked up and down our street until I was able to get to 3 miles.

But the jogging stroller was cool.  It has rubber tires.  It’s very difficult to navigate.  For those of you keeping count, it’s Bruce’s 4th stroller.  This one isn’t like the others, though.  It’s basically useless except for running.  I told Tom that I feel bad about having bought 4 strollers, but this one doesn’t really count because it’s just like an exercise toy, or weights or something.  It would be really, really miserable to take this stroller to Disney World.  Or the mall.  Or anywhere really.  I cannot stress enough the inability to steer.

I started reading blogs yesterday of women with PCOS who are trying to conceive.  It dawned on me that my struggles with that might be relevant to someone somewhere on the internets.  So, I went back to my ol’ LiveJournal and collected everything that seemed relevant.  I don’t know how I feel about it.  I like this blog being about life with Bruce.  But at the same time, it IS relevant.  Part of the story is us trying, trying, trying.

So, if you’ve found me today and you’re into that sort of thing, you can search my tags for LJ to find the agonizing pre-baby ovarian cyst stuff.

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good day

Bruce is napping, Judge Judy is on, and it’s a good day. 

Last night, we jogged and then when we got home Tom served me a hard-boiled farm fresh egg (after much research about how many eggs are okay) and kale-berry smoothie.  This morning, I woke up back on track with my weight.  I think we have to walk every day.  

We also had a good heart to heart on the walk breaks during the jog.  Tom said, “You know, I don’t care if I don’t lose one pound.  My blood pressure is going down, and that’s priceless.  The more we do this, the less chance of me having a heart attack.” 

He’s right. 

This morning, we found out a local consignment shop, Once Upon a Child (NEVER go there), are complete scoundrels.  I should have heeded the reviews that I saw when I checked in on Foursquare.  It’s not about, “oh, they don’t know what my stuff is worth.”  We were going to take the junk to Goodwill, but I figured what the heck.  Even if I come away with $5, that’s more than nothing.  Well, they didn’t bother calling to let us know that the buyer appraised the items.  So, I wrote a long letter to their corporate office, because that’s what I do.

Let me start off by saying that I really wanted to love your store.  I’d never been to a children’s consignment shop before.  My husband and I were hopeful and enthusiastic prior to entering our local One Upon a Child in Pineville, NC.  Then, this happened: 

It was our first time.  We walked into the shop at about 4:45 on Sunday with a box of items.  Excited but unsure, we are complete newbies with no idea about how this procedure works, except from what we read on the website, http://www.onceuponachild.com/how-it-works
 
  1. Bring in your gently used children’s clothing, toys and baby equipment. 
  2. While you check out the great kids stuff in the store, the buyer will review your items. 
  3. The buyer will select and make an offer on the items that meet current style, safety and condition standards, as well as store’s current stock levels.
  4. Once you accept the offer, you’ll be on your way with some extra money, some great new stuff for your kids, or both!
As we walked in, my husband carried a large box of items.  We were greeted with a shout, “Are you guys here to sell items?!”  I thought it was obvious, but my husband and I looked at each other then back at the character from which the abrasive greeting had boomed.  “Yes, if we can.”  He said.  She said that they stop accepting consignments an hour prior to close, but as a courtesy, since it’s our first time, she’d leave the items for the buyer to sort first thing the next morning.  We left our number and all other pertinent information and were hopeful for a call the next day.  
 
There was no call on Monday.  There was no call on Tuesday or Wednesday or Thursday, either.  No offer was made.  Finally, we called them.  They said we have a store credit and the unusable items had been donated.  They said that we had to come back in, as they don’t do business over the phone.
NO ONE TOLD US THAT ON SUNDAY EVENING.  
 
Never, in any conversation, did anyone mention that we needed to return to the store.  I would have taken my stuff back out the door as quickly as we had come in and returned again when it was convenient.  My husband and I work, we couldn’t be there Monday morning.  
 
We told them that we were first time customers, why didn’t they mention that we had to return the next day?  WHY DIDN’T ANYONE MENTION THAT TO US?!  What am I supposed to do with a store credit?  The employees were so rude that I have no reason to return.  Let me clarify, independent of the confusion over the store policies and consignment procedures, the employees with which we had contact were short with us, abrupt, and generally unpleasant.  The others were just kind of milling around the store waiting for the clock to strike 5.  The place wasn’t welcoming and did not feel family friendly.  
 
I signed something, and regrettably it’s possible that it said, “You must return at 9 am tomorrow or else we own your stuff and your first born child,” and I don’t remember.  Your store policies and my inexperience do not excuse the offensive behavior or the employees.  
 
As I close, let me briefly mention another experience on the same day.  After we left Once Upon a Child, we continued our consignment adventure at shop called Mommy and Me, also in the Charlotte area.  Entering the shop, we were greeted with a friendly, “Hey, how are you?”  We were free to peruse the store, which was a trendy, cute boutique style consignment shop.  We made small talk with the lady at the register.  Turns out we love the same television show, but I digress.  She built a relationship with us in the 10 minutes that we shopped, and in the end, her consignment shop made $50 from us that day while Once Upon a Child made $0 (besides the items they purchased from us that will be sold to some other hapless victim).  She was overwhelmingly pleasant.  Did you catch that?  We were overwhelmed by how nice she was.  Blown away.  
 
We were also blown away by Once Upon a Child, but sadly it was for completely different reasons.  In this economy, and when it is so difficult to acquire and keep new customers, I can only hope that you’d be shocked and disappointed with the way the Pineville, NC store is being managed under the Once Upon a Child banner.  We may or may not return to spend our store credit, and will certainly tell friends to avoid the place like the plague.  I don’t really look forward to doing business with you, it’s just not worth it. 
 
Just thought you should know.  Thank you for your time. 
 
So, that already had me feeling empowered.  I’m like the queen of strongly-worded letters!
 
Then, I remembered that my Disney Photopass Photos expire today.  It’s $150 to order a cd of all the images.  But I found a Youtube video with instructions to download large (albeit low-res) files for free.  (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3pYuhYDsikg)
 
Image
 
I love this picture so much, I may have to buy the digital download of this one.  It’s the kind of thing I’d have framed on my fireplace.  We all look good, and I LOVE that Mickey outfit but don’t have many pictures of Bruce in it. 
 
Weighed in again, and haven’t gained weight today.  Woot!  
 
We have a dinner date planned tonight with my Great Aunt Sara Beth, and probably my Dad’s cousin Will and his family as well.  Pretty fired up.  
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242

How have I hit a plateau at 242? I don’t understand. I’m doing everything right. ::sigh:: I did drink a LOT of extra water today. Let’s hope that’s got something to do with it. And before you even start with your muscle weighs more than fat stuff, it’s not like I don’t have it to lose. I’m not pumping irons, just changed my eating habits, so there’s no reason for bulking up.

Met a lady walking last night. I walk at midnight to avoid people. But there she was. She was scared of walking by herself. So, I did a lap around the block with her. It was an extra lap for me. I usually do 5 laps to get to 3+ miles, but with my buddy I did 6. Pretty good considering I was ready to go home and throw up after #3.

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breakfast

We’ve got to do something different. The same old thing has left Tom and I morbidly obese. Think about that word. MORBID. Morbid, as in death. Obesity killed 115,000 Americans in 2008… or something like that. I hear the nay-sayers out there, “I’d much rather have 50 happy years than 100 miserable ones.” Tell that to your grandchildren. Personally, I don’t find delighting in the bounty that God has prepared for us miserable. Watermelon is delicious. I love tomatoes. I love the rainbow of produce and get excited about natural food resources, living off the farm the way my ancestors did. Why should I eat man-made rice puffs when something like walnut granola is so accessible? I’m not miserable.

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So, I bust out my granola this morning and was furious at how deceptive this “good” company was in their packaging. The actual cereal doesn’t even fill the box halfway.

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Furious that is, until I pulled out the Rice Krispes box. Also deceptive. When you compare what you get for your money, it’s not such a bad deal eating right. The Rice Krispies box is HUGE! The bag inside is pretty much full to the top, but…

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I tried reading the nutritional values and couldn’t really make heads or tails of it. I guess there’s a learning curve.

I think a lot about the ’80s and what our parents fed us growing up. The ’90s, too. I ate a lot of Doritos. I ate canned vegetables. I ate Velveeta Shells n’ Cheese. I ate a lot of bread, chicken nuggets, Twinkies, Oatmeal Creme Pies, Oreos, grilled cheese, pudding cups and the soda… oh my God, the soda. All of these are fine once in a while, but when your diet is comprised of these things it can be deadly. (MORBIDly obese, right?) the only good thing on my list was canned vegetables and look how greatly it is outnumbered by all the junk! Soda for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Huge cups. At the height of my glory, I’d say I drank a 2 liter a day by myself. Coke’s not going to kill you, but holy balls there is nothing moderate about that.

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I want to be with this guy forever. I know I’ll go long before he does, but I want to see HIM become a grandfather. I want him to know Big Macs are not food. He’s given me motivation to do a lot of things: save money, find a church, and become the picture of health.

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mph

I wonder how fast I could run a mile. My fastest time since I started this in June was 15:27 way back during the first week. Of course, I haven’t run just a mile since week 1, so all my times are split. I might be running a 15 min mile and a 20 min mile, but it only gives me the split time of 17:30. Hm. Something to mull over in the ol’ noggin.

On a related issue, I just had 2 giant glasses of water (which adds significant weight) after fries at the race and a sandwich from Jimmie Johns and a Dr. Pepper and a wog and stepped on the scale and I weigh the same as I did this morning. I am hoping to wake up 2 lbs. lighter. That has been the norm here at home where I have a little bit of control. Anyway, I’m amazed that I am not heavier after all that mealin’ out.

Then 2 lbs. lighter than that the next morning… and so on… et cetera… yada yada yada… suddenly I weigh 150 lbs.

Ran with Jasmine tonight which was nice. She was still tired from her big Fourth of July trip to the dog whisperer (scumbag) so the whole thing was really pleasant. Hopefully not fleeting, for a moment there I really enjoyed having a dog.

***UPDATE***
I was 2 lbs lighter when I woke up.

***UPDATE AGAIN***
Two more pounds gone, so as of 7/11 I am 244.8. Going to try to never see 245 again and CERTAINLY never see 250 again! I was throwing up last night and didn’t run, so I’d be comfortably realistic to expect those 2 lbs. to return and an extra day for 242ish. But more importantly, I feel good. I want to remember that despite the weight loss, I feel better and I don’t want to go back to feeling lethargic with no self esteem. Would it be awesome to fit into a medium? Sure! But more importantly, I want my cells to be composed of green, elastic, healthy bits — not sugary, starchy, fatty cheese fries. I don’t want to ever get cancer. I hope that I remember this moment whenever I get discouraged. Numbers are immaterial. (Although healthy people don’t weight 243 lbs.) What matters is feeling good. Today, I feel awesome.

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i need a better scale

I haven’t lost noticeable pounds. Been working on this for a week and I’m still about the same weight. I think. When I lean on my scale I can fudge the numbers. There is a bit of a caveat. I think last week I was in complete denial about hitting the 250 mark. The past few days I have hovered around 240. (I don’t care if you want to judge me based on those numbers. I mean, I walk around everyday wearing all that weight so it’s not like I can hide it from you.) Anyway, it’s hard to tell. I can report that I feel MUCH less bloated. I’d like o o hardcore for a week or so and see how close I can get to 230. Today I had a bowl of cereal, 2 giant kale leaves, a handful of blueberries, a handful of grapes, and a big ol’ honkin’ bowl of watermelon. It doesn’t sound as good as I feel. I feel like I ate a mountain of kale.

I want to see if I can cure my own (undiagnosed) PCOS. I want to have a pregnancy without gestational diabetes. I want to feel good in my clothes. I want to not get cancer. Do you have any idea how much you can decrease you health risks by increasing your vegetable intake? It’s insane.

Just consider running to McDonald’s Bill Clinton to modern-day vegan Bill Clinton. It’s night and day.

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since I’m sitting here doing nothing

My arm is asleep.

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But since I’m sitting here doing nothing and I’ve pretty much missed the entire episode of Judge Judy today, I thought that I might as well kill some time and try to wake up my left hand by typing with it on the phone.

Tom recently said, “I wish you loved yourself as much as I love you.” And honestly, I can’t stand myself. I’d never judge anyone else based on their BMI, but I find my own obesity disgusting. It’s weird. I love a lot of fat people, just not the one that greets me at the mirror every morning.

I sound a lot like a racist who’s like, “I have a black friend!”

Anyway. I’m trying to get to a place where I can love myself again. I haven’t told anyone, but I’ve decided that the easiest way to get to that place is to run there. Last night, I went out and bought $140 shoes. I went to a running shop and had my feet measured and arch examined. It really was a pleasant experience. I have a flat foot, for which there was only one option in my choice of light blue or slightly lighter blue. My second toe actually pushed me up half a size, which is a bummer. $140!!!! The last pair of tennis shoes that I bought were $44.99, I think. The ones before that were $13.99 from Walmart.

I took the new shoes for a “wog” last night with Tom. My calves and arches hurt like a mug, but there’s no blisters! So, for me, that’s a breakthrough. I’ll take it. I take sore muscles over exploding flesh any day.

So, here ya’ go. My special shoes. (No wonder Bruce doesn’t have adorable little Asian feet.  I mean, he does, but they are huge on him and getting bigger everyday.)  They’re huge. They’re ugly. They’re expensive. And they’re special.

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I started running in March but quit after the first week. I hope the sticker shock of the new shoes will help keep me motivated. That, and today I registered for the Enchanted 10k at the Disney Princess Half-Marathon Event.

I am not sure how I feel about the Princess being my first race. I think the WDW Marathon might have more meaning or the Dine ‘n Dash one in the fall. Princesses aren’t really my thing.

But I kind of think it’s my destiny.

I don’t think it’s impossible that God wants me to be healthier and happier and stop treating my body like a sugar mill. I’m not ruling out the idea of divine intervention via peer pressure from Danielle. That’s possible? Right?

I’ll be the first to admit that the idea of my fat ass running is laughable. But hopefully my ass won’t be that fat for too long. I wonder what it would be like to wear a medium or at least a large. I wonder how it would feel to not just have to stand there while Mom, Trudy, Haley and Sunny shop for normal people clothes. I wonder how it will feel to see my risk of cancer and heart disease plummet. I wonder if I’ll be able to buy a swimsuit without a skirt on it at some point in my life. I wonder what my great-grandkids will ask me when I’m still alive at 91.

Anyway. The adventure begins!

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you ARE NOT the father

Today is a milestone. It’s officially the longest that I have ever gone between periods, which makes me hopeful and sad at the same time. Hopeful because maybe this time is our time! Sad because this has all happened before, multiple times, and will probably just happen again – setting bigger and longer personal records.

So, I was watching a bit of Maury today, which rounds out my top 3 as far as daytime television is concerned, and it was a typical paternity test episode. It freaking blows my mind how many people are able to have kids while so many of us in the TTC universe continue to POAS and get -HPT’s with 0 hGC, would kill for a BFP, meanwhile it’s been 8 freggin weeks since my LMP… AFNW (that’s a new one, I just learned that one, just now)… ***Baby Dust to ALL***

wtf is with the baby dust crap… I don’t get it. Do other bloggers think I’m an asshole bc I don’t sprinkle baby dust on my posts? ASTERISKS! HAVE SOME SEX! ASTERISKS!

Anyway… so, I’m kickin’ back, suckin’ down some Velveeta Shells & Cheese on the couch watching Maury during Judge Judy’s commercial breaks and there’s this lady on stage that went to Vegas one weekend and gang-banged DOS hombres in UNA NOCHE. (They were black – idk where my spanish came from.) The episode is called “4 Women, 4 Babies… Is Sam the Father?” and originally aired on 11/5/2010, but I can’t ‘xactly find a transcript to see how that one turned out.

So, anyway… this lady goes to Vegas for a fun-filled weekend and gets filled with some strangers’ little swimmers (and while we’re on the subject, uh, hello? STDs much?) and she gets pregnant. Of course. And, it’s not just her! A typical Maury episode has, like, a dozen women who don’t know who fathered their little “surprises.”

NOT FAIR.

What a waste. We’re trying so haaard, my committed, lifelong soulmate and I. I have this friend on facebook that I often commiserate with who’s also trying so haaard… and got nothin’. So, I don’t know. Are the people on Maury less entitled to have a baby? Less deserving just because it’s not planned? Maybe. Yeah, for real, maybe. I guess that sounds AWFUL, but for real… One year I really wanted a laptop at a Black Friday sale, so after Thanksgiving dinner I went to Walmart and started the line. I slept outside – and it was the coldest night EVER. Lots of people showed up at 4:30 AM for the store opening at 5. I wanted a laptop more I guess, because I worked a lot harder. I sacrificed my whole night. I was in line for, like, 8 HOURS! I was there FOREVER! Did I deserve a laptop more than them? You betcha’.

And don’t get me started on this Casey Anthony lady. She got to have this beautiful little girl (like, srsly, the only thing I fear more than no baby is an ugly baby) and drugged her lil’ girl, or drowned her, then taped her face shut.

NOT FAIR.

How do you feel about Kit Avery? I saw “Avery” on a piece of stationery on Etsy, and was all, “Tom, what about Kit Avery La?” He likes it a lot. I keep suggesting “Kit Camille La” and he keeps responding, “Kit Chameleon?” He picked the Kit, he might as well pick the Avery. I’m happy that it’s not Chloe or Madison or Bella* or Oliva or some other name that everyone else has. Sounds like a cowboy name. No wait, I am thinking of Tex Avery.

*#1 Names for 2010 were Jacob and Isabella. No joke. Twilight, huh? Crazy right?

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