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Resolution.

I don't believe in New Year's Resolutions. A resolution won't really stick unless you're doing it for the right reasons, and ringing in the new year isn't a good enough reason for me.

But today I have made a personal resolution.

I was standing in the bathroom, bemoaning my drab skin and alarmingly thin hair, my flabby thighs and my arms that seem to be missing muscles. I'm all skin and fat and connective tissue, and maybe some bones and organs thrown in, but no muscle. I don't have any definable muscle.

I think I'm losing my hair and have ashy skin and no muscle because I don't eat or move. When I eat, it's crap, and when I move, it's only because I absolutely have to. I've always said I would only run if something was chasing me, and I stick to that. You will not see this fat momma running anywhere, unless something dangerous is behind me or there's a Waffle House in my line of vision.

Up until today, the physical look of my body has never really bothered me. I'm not morbidly obese; I wear a size 14, which isn't even plus size. I've never seen myself as a sensual or sexual person, which might surprise you since i have four children (and nine angels waiting in heaven) but to be honest, it never really occurred to me. I've always been just me, the way I am. I never wanted to look like anyone else, or have a "nicer" body or anything like that. I have pretty good self esteem, and I frickin' deserve it too, after all the shit I put myself through as a teenager. But that's another story altogether (and it's entirely too long and boring to post in public.)

I don't want to change how I look. I would actually rather stay the same, because if I get smaller or larger I will need to shop, and while I enjoy shopping, I'm probably the cheapest person you've ever met. It killed me to buy a swimsuit from Motherwear.com - not because I don't want to be seen in a swimsuit, but because I had a hard time spending the ten dollars it was priced at. A ten dollar swimsuit, regularly more than $60, and I used a coupon. Cheap does not even begin to define me.

I am sick and tired of watching handfuls of hair swirling down the shower drain, of seeing hundreds of tiny wrinkles around my eyes when I smile (although I probably can't change that. Thanks a lot sun, you jackass.) I want to be able to chase my kids around without getting winded. I want to be able to hike again. There's this place I know, this beautiful lake south of here, near Yankee Springs, and it's a good three mile hike to get to it, but I can't go because I get too tired. I want to go there again. I want to go to the Devil's Soupbowl - again, a couple miles hike and not accessible by car, and I haven't been in years because I am lazy.

What have I done to myself?

Well, it doesn't matter now. I can't go back and redo my lifestyle choices. But I can change the future, and that's what I'm going to do. Starting tomorrow, because it's a crazy day here today and tomorrow just works better.

My ultimate goal is to be 100% vegetarian, and exercise at least three times a week. By 100% vegetarian, I mean eating all vegetarian meals.

I can't do that right now. It is unreasonable to expect a person who spends her days in a recliner with a laptop and a cupcake to all of a sudden pick up cardio and whistle merrily while preparing tofu. Tofu is gross and cardio is hard. It will be an adjustment.

Step One: Two vegetarian meals per week and exercise one hour per week. I plan to do this for one month. I will continue to take my Wellbutrin and fish oil. I will take a multivitamin when I remember to. I will remember to take my multivitamin more often than I do now.

Step Two: Four vegetarian meals per week and exercise three hours per week. This should be another month or maybe six weeks. Continue Wellbutrin and fish oil, and take my multivitamin every day, even if it does smell like a nursing home.

Step Three: All meals vegetarian, except pizza. I will eat ham and pineapple pizza for the rest of my life. Exercise daily. Continue all medicines. This is the ultimate goal.

Step Four will take place after The Babe is weaned. This could be in a year or three. I don't know. I'm all for child led weaning so it could be awhile before I can do this. I want to do a complete body cleanse and detox, even if that means getting a colonic. I have this nagging feeling that my sixty extra pounds are all in my gut. Probably I have just seen too many Kevin Trudeau infomercials, but I can't help but think that. I think switching to a vegetarian diet and exercising will help this tremendously, but the cleanse and detox will be the fourth and final step.

Now I just need to find vegetarian protein sources that I can choke down, and exercise I can ease into. This will be an interesting journey, at the least.

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Stash....

Sew Mama Sew has a little interview questionnaire on the blog. Go check it out, and add your link. It's so fun to see what everyone else is doing! Even though I am absolutely no good at sewing, I enjoy it, and I can't get too hard on myself because I've only been doing it for like six weeks. Seriously. And my first project were those dumb stuffed animals that just don't work out... but don't worry, because I'm working on another one. You know what they say, if at first you don't succeed...

What do you usually sew?
-So far, just lambikins. And lambikins are probably not the best beginner project. I've also made felt food but I don't consider that sewing, more crafting. Oh and I've made some little sachets and stuff.

When you shop for fabric, what size cuts do you usually buy? (i.e. If you see something beautiful, but you don’t have a use for it right away, how much do you buy?)
- Since I have absolutely no intentions of ever making anything large, like clothes or something, I buy a half yard at a time. I did buy a full yard of NASCAR fabric to make a curtain for The Hub's man-cave in the basement. I'm going to work on that on Sunday.


Do you buy on impulse or do you go out looking for something you need?
-I go out with specific intentions to buy fabric. So far I haven't had a specific idea in mind, except for terry cloth, which as it turns out, is a total PITA to sew. Won't be doing that again soon.

Are you a pre-washer? If you are, do you wash your fabric before you need it, or only when you’re ready to use it?
- I do prewash. I usually wash it when I get it, then fold it and put it away. If it smells funky, I'll wash it again. I don't want my kids snuggling with sizing-laden lambikins (no matter how ugly they are!)

Do you iron it?
-Yes, always. I don't know why. My mom told me to, so I do, and it seems like something I should be doing.

How do you sort it? (color, print size, collection, etc.)
-I don't. I just fold it and put it in the tub.

Do you have any special folding techniques?
-Nope. I do pin a little piece of paper on it with the quantity and width, because that's what my mom does.


How do you store your fabric?
-In a big rubbermaid tub.

What tips do you have for building up a well-rounded stash?
-I don't have a nice stash yet, but I think it's important to have the basics. I have something from each color family, and pieces for babies and bright primaries and different textures and stuff.

When do you say enough is enough?
-I don't know. I haven't been doing this very long at all.

What are some of your favorite stash-busting projects?
-This is another one I can't answer.


Do you have a current favorite print in your stash? Let’s see it!
-Yes!

This is going to be a giraffe. It's a red-orange polka dot cotton. I adore this fabric, it is definitely my favorite print. It was also the most expensive fabric I've ever purchased, at $14.99 a yard. I think the giraffe will have green yarn for his mane and tail, and a big orange bow around his neck.

A Big Accomplishment, and Seedy too.

Today is The Babe's birthday; he's five months old. To be honest, that makes me a little bit sad, because it seems like he was a newborn just yesterday. He's my last baby, so I'm doing my best to cherish every moment with him. I know before long, all my babies will be big kids in school like EJ, and I will sit here at home all alone, wondering what to do with my time.

It's not just Babe's birthday - it's also a big day for him developmentally. Today, he rolled over for the first time! You might think he's late for that. He might be. But he also weighs 23 pounds and spends all of his time in my arms, so he hasn't had much chance to learn how, and even if he did, he had to get pretty strong to heft all that weight over.

Of course, now that he's getting so big, I get people all the time asking when we're starting solids. Even the pediatrician, at his four month check up, said we could start cereal. I was like, are you kidding!? I don't care if he's "big enough" - he is not ready. I am a very big believer in baby-led solids, and there is no way I am going to shovel spoonfuls of nutritionally inferior processed "food" into my baby's mouth, fighting to get it to stay down. No way. I've been down that route and am still paying the price, with EJ. I figure, by the time he's in kindergarten, The Babe will most likely be eating solids. Probably. So why worry about it?

Another thing happened today. I found out what "Seedy" means.

Beastie has, for about a week, been holding my face and screaming "SEEDY!" when I'm singing to her. (For some reason I spend a huge amount of time singing to my kids. Probably four hours a day, if you put it all together.) So I'll be singing "Twinkle Twinkle" and she'll grab my face and scream down into my mouth "SEEDY! SEEEDDDDDYYYY!!!"

I tried to figure out what she wanted. "You want Sister?" I'd ask. She'd get so mad and yell again. "Do you want me to stop singing?" Nope, not that. She'd grab my cheeks even tighter. "SEEDY!"
I could not figure this one out. I tried and tried, but without fail, she'd yell "SEEDY!!" every time I sang.

Then, today, a lightbulb. I started singing the Alphabet Song. "Seedy!" Beastie yelled, gleefully. "Seedy!!"
I stopped singing.
"C D?" I asked her. "A B C D?"
She was downright exuberant. "Seedy!"

So now when we sing, we start with Beastie's favorite song - The ABSeedies.

Reminder!

Don't Forget!!

The Juice Beauty Giveaway ends in just two days! Get your entries in ASAP! Just click the link and follow the directions. I promise you, you will ADORE this stuff! It's a full size, new sealed bottle of Green Apple Facial Cleanser, plus a special free surprise bonus. I cover shipping and all other expenses, because I am rich and pretentious! (Well, actually, I'm definitely not rich, and totally not pretentious either. But I WILL cover the expenses and stuff!)

GO ENTER NOW, OR ELSE!!

*smiles*

So, I get an email from a random internet user, and its your typical letter of adoration, but at the end, the sender added something that threw me. "What exactly qualifies you as a ninja? Do you do karate?"

I didn't answer the email because I'm an asshole like that, just reading emails and not answering them. Hey, at least I'm honest about it. But, I did think about the answer, and since I am a non-email-answering-asshole, I decided to make up for it and reply in this post. (Because I am not just a run of the mill asshole. I am also narcissistic.)


Dear Random Internet User,
Thank you for your kind email. I am flattered that you find me hilarious, but unfortunately, it isn't true. In real life, I'm dull as a doorknob. I've had people ask whether or not I had a lobotomy at some point in my life, because most of the time I sit around with a silly look on my face, often accompanied by drool. So while I appreciate your sense of humor, I am most disturbed that my every day life is so funny to you. Maybe it wouldn't be so funny if you lived it. Maybe you too would be cursed with children who swear and draw on walls. Maybe you too would have a completely OCD husband with a wrinkly old face. Maybe you'd make a penis cake or have a sick fascination with John Philip Sousa. Maybe you would even be possessed to write about pretty much nothing in a blog that follows absolutely no pattern whatsoever. No, Random Internet User, this is not a hilarious life I lead. Hysterical, maybe, but not in the way you probably intended.

Oh and that whole ninja thing? Nah. Totally not a ninja. I don't know karate or tae-kwon-do or jujitsu or even tae-bo for that matter. I did take a self defense class once, but I got kicked out for eating a blow-pop during drills. However, I think ninjas a really cool, and ninja is kind of a code word for "cool," and since I'm not all that cool but would like to be, I call myself a ninja.

I can still whoop your ass in a heartbeat, Random Internet User. Don't get me wrong. I can whoop your ass so fast you won't even see me. You will just be standing there, and then you will hear a sound like wah-shaaaa! and then all of a sudden your clothes will be all ripped and you will have a black eye and an "x" shaped band-aid on your cheek, and you won't even know what hit you. I will be two thousand miles away smoking a congratulatory cigarette in a New Mexico bar by the time you figured out what happened. Not that I would ever do that of course.

Thanks for your email. Sorry I am too much of an asshole to write you back. But hey, at least you are famous now.

Signed,
Super Ninja Mommy

Hippie Momma

It has come to my attention that I might be a little bit of a hippie momma.

Gentle discipline: Pass

Selective Vaccinations: Pass

Breastfeeding: Pass

Cloth Diapering: FAIL

Co-sleeping: Pass

Anti-circumcision: Pass

Organic gardening: Pass

Being a gentle momma who never yells: FAIL

Trying really hard to only yell when its REALLY neccesary: Pass

Not sweating the small stuff: Pass

Knowing what 'the small stuff' is (like coloring on walls): Pass, mostly

Homemade Babyfood: Pass

Feeding nothing with artifical colors, etc: FAIL

Not hitting my kids: Pass

Limiting tv: Pass

Being a ninja: Totally pass.

Bah-eee Poo

There's something crazy going on at our house. To the untrained eye, it might seem like a frat party gone horribly wrong... I mean, what's with the naked baby and the potty chairs everywhere? And ... my God ... did that child just pee on the floor??


I know Beastie is very young for "potty training." She just turned eighteen months old the other day. But she isn't being potty trained. She's learning about the potty. And it's just as well, because the only way to keep a diaper on her is with duct tape, and it's a good thing I know that, or we'd never go out in public.


As soon as Beastie feels a wee coming on, she peels off all her clothes - usually accompanied by frustrated, Beast-like screeching - and runs to her potty. She very rarely makes it. Normally she pees in her diaper, or on the floor next to the potty. (It's right about now that I stop bitching about having ceramic tile and Pergo floors.)

The same thing happens with poo, but she's scared to death of it. She sees it on the floor next to the potty, and screams bloody murder and runs in the other direction. I always gently guide her back, then pick it up with a wipe, and bring her to the toilet. The first time I did this, I put the poo in the toilet and waved at it and said "Bye bye poo! Bye!" And she did the same thing. "Bah-eeee, poo! Bah-eeeee!"

So now, whenever she notices anyone in the bathroom, she comes running in and peeks in the toilet - sometimes while someone is still sitting on it. "Poo?" she asks, even if it's not. Then she grabs the handle and flushes. "Bah-eeee! Bah-eeee poo!!"

If it wasn't so cute, it would probably drive me crazy, what with the barging in on me and all.