Work. It. Out.

This morning I finally decided (again) to get back on the wagon with working out. Not the angry running I do on the treadmill where I cuss and yell at people in my head, but actual exercise of value. You already know how I feel about Interval Training. Barf. They say old habits die hard, but it must not really be a habit for me because I keep committing and then quitting.

I have written many times about The Female Body Breakthrough and how I had a lot of success with it in the past. Somehow I forget that eating whatever I want and watching too much reality TV is not as rewarding as working out and THEN eating whatever I want. You know and being able to breathe in my jeans.

This morning I looked at the "dining room" and decided that was the new gym space. We moved the dining room table out of there to accommodate the Christmas tree and haven't moved it back in yet, so it's a wide open space. Well, it's a 12x12 space with nothing in it anyway.

So I laced up my trainers and did that crazy dance we all do to get that stupid sports bra on. Grabbed my tubing and the book. Some weights and the bench from the kitchen. Yeah, I have resistance tubing. Coach probably gave it to me for a birthday present or something. Ha. Not kidding.

Three minutes later I was listening to Trey Songz Bottoms Up and it was ON.

Until I whacked the holy hell out of my head on this chandelier. I truly am Mary Katherine Gallagher, so clumsy and awkward it's a miracle I didn't knock my eye out.

I wrapped up the hour workout and patted myself on the back (actually did NOT because I was so sore I couldn't raise my arms, which makes it a gong show trying to get that sports bra OFF) and headed to Starbucks for a Skinny Vanilla Latte. Met a friend for lunch and stopped by the (gack!) sports store and bought a stability ball.

Which I promptly brought to The University weight room and had the Strength Coach (hi Joe!)inflate for me.

Look, I said I was working out. I didn't say I wanted to do actual work. Sheesh.

Nailed It

...for starters someone needs to tell him what it means to be a Sugar Daddy...

Being married to Coach is a constant battle. A battle of the wits and a battle with keeping him full. I've tried very hard in 2012 (hey, it's been over 6 weeks!) to pay attention to what's important to him. So the meals have been pretty rocking and well, there's this one other thing.

I am a very consistent dresser. Modest and simple with some huge jewelry. Lip gloss and the same perfume. Done and done. But Coach, well, he's a Jersey boy. I think he would love it if I busted out some cheetah print and high heels. It's not ever happening, but we can let him hope.

In any case one thing he is really fired up about it colored nail polish. 100% out of my comfort zone. I have been alternating between clear/American mani/Essie Bubble Bath for as long as I can remember. All of which look like I have nothing on my nails. I keep them short-ish and simple.

But.

He asked. So I am trying. Every morning I wake up, get a glimpse of them and shudder. One morning last week I thought my hands were bleeding. That's how much of a chasm it was for me to cross. But the other morning he brought me a drink in bed when I woke up. So it appears that we are *attempting to* meet in the middle. Here's what I have managed to do this year. I have a bottle of Chanel Blue Satin that he's jonesing for. But he's going to have wait, that might make my heart stop.

OPI A to Zurich

China Glaze something I can't remember!





OPI Dutch Tulips

OPI Suzy Loves Chocolate

OPI Oh to be 25 Again

Ulta Finely Pruned

(this one was a real stretch!)

What we do in the name of love...

Friday

TGIF. No really, I mean it. Sort of. Actually it's hard to be annoyed at the weekend when it's been approaching 70 in Atlanta all week. In February, since that's totally normal. Whatever, I will take it! And wear flip flops to celebrate that!

Last Saturday Coach and I went to see the ventriloquist Jeff Dunham at Philips Arena. It was so funny and we had fantastic seats just 4 rows from the stage- thanks Dad! I may or may not have eaten french fries for my dinner at the concession stand. Just saying.

Saturday night was a late one and we went to early Mass on Sunday. So of course we rounded that out with our weekly pilgrimage to The Waffle House. I irritated the heck out of them that morning because I ordered an egg white omelet loaded with veggies and dry wheat toast. Sacrilegious in The Waffle House but hey, had to negate those fries from the night before.

Yesterday was the best Groundhog Day. Like ever. I wish it would repeat itself a la Ned Ryerson. I went to Drybar Atlanta (a gift from FitGirl) in the morning and had a blowout and a massage. I got the "Manhattan" and my hair was (and still is) stick straight, sleek and shiny. I adore Drybar. Please make a note and buy me 84,000 gift certificates for my birthday in March. I want to go every week, so work that out accordingly. We watched "He's Just Not That Into You" during our blowouts, I had forgotten how hilarious that movie is, and completely true!

Afterwards we went to Phipps Plaza and I bought a watch (Christmas gift from Jack and Diane, natch) and fondled all of the bags and flip flops at Tory Burch. Lunch at Bistro Niko completed my day as pretending to be a Buckhead Betty. Spoiled Rotten.

This guy. Basketball regular season ended and we are in the throws (no pun intended) of a single elimination tourney. Said tourney is the reason I will be here in Atlanta this weekend instead of in Charlotte with my girlfriends. Soon though!

Alas, the alarm went off this morning and it wasn't Groundhog Day. It was back to reality. Scrubbing toilets, running {jogging} 3 miles on the treadmill and a hella trip to Publix.

Suburban Brunette Barbie. That's my reality.

Helicopter Words

Today Ryan, 10, brought home a letter addressed to "Mom and Dad". It was a thank you note of sorts. He said he was thankful for his "lovely home" and "vast collection of books". He also made mentioned of the "love of his family". I was both delighted and surprised at his sweet words, because after all, he is a boy. And the son of a snarky mom to boot.

Where did my 5th grader learn to express himself like that I wondered? Oh, duh. My family has always been one to share our feelings with words more than actions.

For Christmas, Ryan asked my parents for an RC helicopter. In any event, Papa Jack and Granny Diane were happy to oblige and the cool helicopter showed up under the tree on the 25th.

Some days later, whilst I was sleeping in at my parents, Ryan and Jack were up early with them. From what I understand, they took the helicopter outside in the Chicago winter wind sometime around 7am.

By the time I stumbled dowstairs, the 4 of them were sitting at the kitchen table somber and silent. I poured my coffee and asked what had happened. It seems that the helicopter flew a bit higher than expected and was currently stuck in a huge tree somewhere past the second story of my parents' house. Ryan was upset, and I think he had been crying. My parents were annoyed. I was stumped because he had made a bad decision to take it out in the wind, but I knew he hadn't done it on purpose.

I said as much. Some hours later apologies were exchanged, but the helicopter remained in the tree, inaccessible by any ladder created by man. At least not one we owned.

A few days later, we boarded a plane back to Atlanta. Sans helicopter. Ryan was legitimately bummed. So were my parents.

January 4 the doorbell rang. UPS delivered a small box.

In the box was Ryan's helicopter, and this letter...

"Dear Ryan,

I was a very happy little helicopter when your Papa Jack and Granny Diane decided to buy me to give to you as a Christmas present. I could hardly wait for you to unwrap me on Christmas morning. I knew we would have a lot of fun together.

The day you took me outside to see how high I could fly, I couldn't help but show off. I wanted to be a really cool toy for you, so I flew highter and higher. What I didn't think about was the strong wind. It just carried me away up into that monster tree.

I tried and tried to get free and I knew you were trying to fly me out, but nothing was working. I saw you looking for me several times over the next few days. When I saw that your Papa was taking you to the airport, I was so sad. I knew the winter would be cold and snowy and then when the spring came, the leaves would cover me up and no one would be able to see me.

On New Year's Eve, I was still hoping that I could get down from that tree. But my hopes were fading.

There was a fierce wind that night, some say up to 50 MPH. I clung to that tree fearing that I would be blown to pieces if I let go. I was also afraid that I would get blown too far from your Papa's and Granny's house and they would never find me.

But then, I ddecided that the wind that had tossed me into that tree was my way out. I finally let go and the wind took me gently to the ground. I couldn't believe it.

Then I knew I would just have to wait a bit. Your Granny was checking on me all the time and I knew she would notice I wasn't in the tree anymore. She found me on New Year's Day and I don't know who was more excited, your Granny, your Papa or me.

Your Papa checked me over, recharged me and gave me new batteries. He flew me in the kitchen and your Granny cheered.

By now, I hope you are holding me in your hands and we can have more fun together. It is going to be a good year for us!

Love,

Your Rescue Helicopter that needed to be rescued"

Ryan stood in the family room and read the letter silently. He cried. I read it, I cried. Then he put the helicopter on the shelf in the armoir. For safekeeping, he said.

So that. That is why I am the parent I am. That is why I express myself in words. That's why song lyrics and books and written language is my love. My parents gave me that love and gift, through nurture and through nature.

Words.

It Doesn't Make You Smarter

So last Wednesday I picked up the minis from school and drove to the doctor. I finally was willing to admit that I had thrown out my back. Again. February 2009 I did it whilst attempting to repair my washing machine. I failed to fix it and ended up in physical therapy. So this time wasn't a shock. No clue how I did it, but damn, did I do it.

By the time the doctor arrived I was literally on all 4s on the floor in her office. My head was on the step of the bed and I was sobbing. After she injected me with what can only be described as a crap ton of Toradol she also gave me a prescription for Flexiril, Hydrocodone and my all time favorite; Phenergan. I am a real vom expert and we wanted to avoid that at all costs. We did not. The next 3 days are a blur of sleep, itching and endless vomiting. For real one day I slept 17 of 24 hours,

If you know me you know that I don't do things halfway. So today I ended up back at the doc, Because I had a reaction to the meds, i am covered in hives, I also have some crazy virus and an ear infection. Word. That's what's happening. I look like ET. Coach is at his wit's end and I am so sick and tired of feeling bad.

Today I landed some antibiotics and, wait for it... Prednisone, Oh yeah, girl got some legit steroids today. After one dose, I was torn whether I wanted to mow the lawn, run a marathon or die. A friend described Prednisone today as Superman juice, and it totally is! Except it doesn't make you smarter.

I took 5 minutes today trying to open a container of sea salt caramel gelato. It's a freaking screw top.

TGIF and a Ponytail

Not. I hate Friday. I actually I hate it less today since Coach is not working this weekend and I AM! Ha. We have 2 basketball games tomorrow and he is the man in charge of the minis. I have 84,000 showings on Saturday. The weather in Atlanta is a complete cluster and I expecting to be sporting boots and a scarf. Barf.

Currently I am sporting these Nick and Nora flannel pajamas and a Barbie flip ponytail. I had a discussion yesterday with a friend regarding ponytails. I told said friend that when a girl shows up for an event/date in a ponytail, it's a cop out. Save for the "fancy, intentional ponytail" with the holder covered, it's lame. I also reminded said friend that there isn't a woman on this planet who rocks a Barbie flipped ponytail more than I do. These are important discussions. Don't underestimate it. hee hee

Enjoy your Friday sweets, I'm off to ... straighten out my ponytail.

Thursday

You know you live in Atlanta when you wake up and hear this on the news, "Car-B-Cue on Ponce at Fernbank" and it makes complete and total sense.

Today was supposed to be slammed full; condo showings all day and 2 dinner dates tonight. But, as per usual, things changed last minute and I am down to one birthday dinner tonight. So I have taken full advantage of the time at home today, sporting leggings (as pants!) and a fleece. Knocking out some administrative whatnots like soccer registration. Which involves birth certificates and a check for roughly $84,000. Or actually 2 check for that amount. Both the minis have opted out of spring baseball (PTL!) and are both playing soccer.

I can't really imagine how Coach feels about them skipping baseball this season, and I am unlikely to open up that line of communication, I envision tears and head banging. On his part. I on the other hand, am simply supportive of whatever sport they choose. hahaha JUST Kidding. You know I wish they just took piano lessons and other indoor, climate controlled activities.

As far as the Casa de Chaos is concerned, I have officially returned it to it's pre-Christmas state, save for the Clemson tree. It is still up and fully decorated. I can't bring myself to take it down. Partly because it's adorable and partly because I am unmotivated to walk my happy arse to the shed to get the appropriate boxes to do so. Shed. Yeah, we have a shed. But even if you've been to my house you might not realize it. It is adjacent to screened in porch and looks like an extension of the house. Same paint and trim. But it seems a far walk. Plus, I would have to put on shoes and well...I don't feel like it.

I made a list of the things I want to do to the Casa in 2012. I have yet to make a list of the ways I will pay for said upgrades. I figure my list is like a vision board. If I put it in the iPhone it will magically happen. Siri can do that, right?

Have a great Thursday, it's not a Monday, but we can pretend.

Thursday

You know you live in Atlanta when you wake up and hear this on the morning news,

Don't Know Much About Making Up

My routine and inability to deviate from the products I know and love is nothing new. I have worn basically the same makeup since I was allowed wear makeup. Ok, truth, I was rocking some raspberry lip gloss in 6th grade behind my mom's back. Sorry Mom, but the Junior High bathroom was a landmine of lip gloss sharing.

In any case, I ventured into Sephora in March...I posted about them giggling at my use of Noxema etc. But since then, I have stepped up the makeup a bit. Heaven knows I am no expert and you won't likely see a YouTube tutorial here, but this is what I have been using the last few months. I have not the patience this morning to adjust the blurry photos, so work it out. I am still bitter.

Smashbox Photofinish Primer. I use the original one.

Benefit Play Sticks foundation. I have always been a fan of stick foundation, it's less messy. I use this one in Tea Party. It smells fine, which for a migraine sufferer is really a deciding factor.

Ulta Eyelid Primer. It used to be in a compact which I preferred, but now it's in a tube. It's cheap and easy.

Bare Minerals loose eyeshadow in Sex Kitten. It's described as mahogany gold, but I think it's just plain sparkly chocolate. I'm just saying.

Chanel lip liner. I know, I know, it's ridiculously expensive. But it made it's way into my Christmas stocking with a bottle of Chanel Chance and let's say this: you get what you pay for.

I pair that million dollar Chanel lip liner with my $1 e.l.f. liquid lip gloss in Maple Sugar. Yes, it's $1. But it smells like mint and it's not sticky. Oh, and did I mention, it's $1?! Word.

That's all I know. I am still using Noxema, Olay moisturizer and Herbal Essences cheapy shampoo. A leopard doesn't REALLY change her spots.

Especially when they are Tiger Stripes!

The Pictures to Prove It

I'd like to say that I'm still here. I am, truly. Admittedly I slacked on you a bit in the last little while. Truth is I was very busy in Q4 2011! Also, I have become a little bitter about blogging. Seems like everyone has a blogging "agenda" and that's just not my thing. I blog when I have something funny or awful to share, not because it's on my To Do list. I love blogging and I am regretting letting my writing, if I dare call it that, slip. But I am rewarding your loyalty- ha!- with a arse load of pictures I just dumped off my iPhone. Yes, I abandoned the Blackberry in December for the 4s. Now my bathroom self-portraits are clear. Still a bit random, but more clear.

I got my annual haircut in December. I really don't even think I can call it a haircut. I let her TRIM about 3 millimeters. It's stupid long and I am loving it. It allows the Hair Cycle to go even longer. And let's be totally honest, I am so lazy. So there's that.

Basketball season for the minis has allowed me to actually get dressed on Saturdays for the games. The climate control of indoor sports makes this girl legit happy!

The last Caramel Brulee Latte of the season. I accessorized my Starbucks this season with the red sparkly cup sleeve. I'm tempted to use it again for February and consider it Valentine-y. I am back to Skinny Vanilla Lattes. My arse could use some skinny.

Basketball. Ok, so when I said I was getting dressed, that was sort of early in the season. I'm starting to lose interest here, and please note this is not just a bathroom pic. It's the girls' locker room. Stepping it up!

The new minivan is completely space age. The minis love the wireless headphones and the DVD players. You know I loved my monogrammed minivan to death, and the new van is getting equally fabulous treatment. It is less than 2 months old and it's gotten a weekly spa treatment. I heart it. I do NOT however, heart the car payment. Bastards.

We flew to Chicago for Christmas. Ryan thought he was hot stuff riding the shuttle from the Parking Spot. I totally chose that place because the shuttle is polka dot, and polka dots are adorable.

Christmas Eve Mass. I decided to bring big Southern hair up North. Of course this is nothing for Atlanta!

Jack was my seatmate on the flight home. The minis are so used to flying alone that they were kind of annoyed that we were with them.

New Year's Day the minis and I left Atlanta for CLEMSON! I sported my Clemson purple even though I am SOLID ORANGE. I totally own the fact that I cried the minute we got off on exit...19B. When I saw the Clemson In Season, Every Season sign, I had to pull over. Gather myself together, and blow my nose. Tears of joy. I swear it's a magical place.

Took this photo...duh, outside Littlejohn. Coach Brownell was super sweet and gave the boys the royal treatment. I cried again during the Alma Mater. Ok, and at halftime when they played the video. My blood runneth orange.

Jack and Ryan managed to spill 3 drinks, at least one cup of ice cream and heaven knows what else. They are graceful, just like me.

Sorry for party rockin'. Yeah, I will be totally up front with you and tell you that I think I am kind of hot stuff in my new red Chuck Taylor's. I can't say that I won't be ordering them in a bunch of other colors, because that? Is happening. ASAP.

I rallied a little for this past Saturday's basketball games. Plus, I was wearing my Chucks. So, adorable shoes. Duh.

That's all I have for tonight. But I will tell you that I am letting the attitude about blogging go. I will see you soon. SUPER SOON.

Smooches!