Learning a Healthy Lifestyle... There's a Learning Curve

Shawn turns forty in a month. He decided that he would like to face the next forty years without encouraging one of the myriad of familial illnesses that plagues his gene pool. So, he is willing to try eating healthier. A serious commitment from someone who has spent the past forty years fine-tuning the delicate skill of vegetable-avoidance.

But, I'm on-board! I would love to eat healthier and have a buddy to help encourage me when I don't feel like encouraging myself. Also? If this is his version of a mid-life crisis and it doesn't involve a girlfriend, ridiculous sports car, or plastic surgery, I'll eat bok choy every day for the rest of my life. So, I signed us up for a meal plan on-line. It counts our calories. We sit down every Sunday and choose what we want to eat for breakfast, lunch, dinner and snacks. It gives me a grocery list. I shop. We eat.

I've only had to yell at one of the children one time when he wouldn't stop calling this "your diet." We had a discussion about what people think of as "diets" are just radically changing your eating habits for a temporary time to lose weight and then going right back to eating like crap (I didn't use that word, I promise). And, that this was Mommy and Daddy learning how to eat healthy. Forever. He said he understood. Although, he really may have just wanted the lecture to stop...

I hang my head as I tell you how foreign it was for me to buy healthy food - like fresh fruit and vegetables. (I think the first trip to the grocery store took me an hour and a half.) And how eye-opening it was when I started comparing labels to decide which brand of different foods would be the healthier option. (For example: Wheat Chex. A "whole grain wheat cereal." Must be healthy, right? Second ingredient? [And, we all know ingredients are listed in the order of predominance, right?] SUGAR. Straight up "sugar." In "healthy" wheat Chex. Damn.)

But, it's amazing how much we're learning already. After a week, I can already cut up a cantaloupe like a pro. Learning portion control has been huge for us, too. Turns out a 12-ounce piece of meat isn't in anyone's healthy diet. We've also learned how bad some of our "go-to" options are. Pizza? French fries? Salad dressing?! Oh my. But, with the variety this meal plan offers us, there are lots of things that we like that, eaten in the proper amounts, are good and good for us. And, there are healthy ways to prepare some of the ol' favs like hamburgers, pasta, etc.

We have stumbled upon one meal that made us throw up in our mouths. Luckily, it wasn't one of our first meals. We already had enough good dinners under our belts (no pun intended, ba-dum-cha) that we didn't ditch the entire "healthy" concept altogether and run for the nearest Mexican restaurant. But, that meal made it to the "Never, Never, Never, Again" List. We do already have three on our "Put in Heavy Rotation" List. So, the ratio of good to bad is quite acceptable.

It's actually been kind of fun to work along-side each other in the kitchen, too, measuring and cooking. And, I send Shawn to work with his "snack" every day. It's very Donna Reed.

But. (And, we all knew there was a "but," didn't we?) Here's the thing. He gets many more calories than I do. He gets so much food, that many days he can't eat it all... or feels like he's being force fed if he tries. Me? Not so much. I want to kick him in delicate places when he says things like, "I just can't eat my cheese and crackers."

And, then? The first week? He lost seven pounds.

Me?

I'm just bitter.

And, hungry.

When I Grow Up, I'm Going to be Responsible. I Wonder When That Will Be?

Today it was like I woke up and decided I should go ahead and continue with undertakings that I have completely and utterly pushed aside during our lazy summer.

First, I went back to workout at the Class of Torture I started attending back in May. It's no mystery why this has been getting neglected. It turns out it's fairly impossible to do squats while on crutches. But, after six weeks in the heinous Aircast from hell, I got the all-clear to exercise as long as I wear an only-slightly-less-heinous, lace-up brace for six more weeks.

I decided to amp it up a notch and attend class at 5:30 in the a.m., too. Because 9:00 a.m. is just too reasonable. That. And, I hate taking my kids to the childcare at the gym - they always look at me like they're living through their own personal Sophie's Choice... and I haven't chosen either of them.

So. Now I'm tired. And, my stomach muscles hurt so badly I think I might cry if I have to cough later.

But, waking up at the crack of dawn and pushing my body to its physical limits wasn't enough for me. Oh no. I decided to crack back open the Rosetta Stone. I quit doing this because... it's hard... and I'm a baby. I didn't want to do my Spanish lessons! (Imagine me stomping my feet for emphasis when you read that.)

But, I RE.FUSE. to admit defeat. So, I sat down with my laptop and headsets, opened up Rosetta Stone, and I'm pretty sure it said to me, "Where the hell have you been?!" But, it said it in Spanish, so I can't be sure.

I yelled, "Algún día trabajarán en un restaurante," and "Sí, tengo un pregunta," a couple of times... and, then I started writing this blog post... and reading other blogs... and commenting on other blogs... and adding some stuff to pinterest... and I did start some laundry...

Yep. Responsible. That's what I am.

Updates on Spanish, Exercise and Fascinators

There's not much to report around here.

In fact, there's so little going on that I took my obsession with the royal wedding to a whole new level and put a fascinator on my head.

Yeah. This is me taking a picture of myself and my
fascinator in the bathroom mirror. Don't judge me.

I like my fascinator. But, my sister probably said it best when she responded with, "London - yes. Amarillo - no." *sad*

I took a week off of Spanish. But, I'm back at it now. It's making me learn past and future tenses and it's just hard! *Imagine me stomping my feet and whining* I'm pretty sure that I almost told the Spanish-speaking housekeeper that I was going to "sell" her instead of "pay" her, too. I'm guessing she might not come back after that. Some people don't like human trafficking.

I've also begun acting like English is my second language. The greeter at Wal-Mart told me to "come back soon," and I had to think of the proper response because I knew it wasn't, "You, too." I asked the checker at Hobby Lobby, "Where is framing?" because I couldn't think of the pleasantries that should surround that statement.

In other news: I joined a gym. Even sweet Shawn agreed that I was probably asking more of my pants on Sunday then they were able to give. Sad. I guess I can't pretend that carpool pickup is exercise anymore. I haven't "officially" exercised now for four months. That's a third of a year. I should be ashamed. But, really. I hate exercise so much, I'm not.

However, getting out of shape has made my joints hurt. This is the beauty of my aging body: If my muscles aren't strong, my joints do all the work and they hurt. If I get up from sitting too long, I walk just like my 66-year-old dad. (Sorry, Dad, but it's true. My gross heels look like yours, too. Thanks for the DNA.) My hip hurts so badly at the moment that I think I had better get a Life Alert button. There's a chance I might fall and not be able to get up.

But, wait. Maybe I'll ditch exercise altogether and get a scooter! A scooter and a Life Alert button. And a fascinator. I'd be the hottest 37-year-old on the block!

Español es Dificil

... and I only wrote that title because I don't know how to say, "Learning Spanish is freakin' hard" in Spanish.

First off, I was wrong. There are five CDs for the Rosetta Stone Spanish course. There are four units in the first CD, so I'm assuming there are four units in each CD. That's twenty units (if only I were as good at Spanish as I am at multiplication...). I'm in the fourth unit. Ouch. I walk away from my lessons looking at Shawn like I suffer from PTSD and murmuring, "What have I done?!"

And, I still can't speak it. Except to my kids... who don't know anything more than remedial Spanish. So, I tell them I'm right, and they answer, "uno, dos, tres, quatro, cinco, seis!"

I also walk around my everyday life thinking things like, "Desayuno! That's 'breakfast'! Is that 'breakfast'? I don't know. I think that's 'breakfast.'"

I looked enviously at Elizabeth's Pre-K worksheet the other day. It said "Circle the things that are above..." and "Circle the things that are below..." I thought, "I could totally do a Spanish Pre-K worksheet." Unfortunately, I don't think anyone is going to handle me like a four-year-old when I try to converse with them in Spanish. So unfair. Those four-year-old Spanish kids don't know how good they've got it.

I'm not giving up on you, Rosetta Stone. I still believe your claims that you can teach me Spanish by the end of the twentieth unit. But, at the moment, you could call me skeptical.  Pretty much, if I went to a Spanish-speaking country right now, I would be committed to an insane asylum because I would just walk around yelling words like "breakfast!" and "bicycle!" and "sixty!"

Happy Birthday to Me...

...Happy Birthday to Me! Happy Birthday dear Meeeee-eeee! Happy Birthday to Me!

My family is treating me like a queen... Well, unless the kids are acting like Spring Break-addled savages.

But, Lulu did dress like a "Birthday Sister" for me today:

This is what Sisters wear when there is a birthday. Didn't you know?

There's not much to report around here except that two semesters of college Spanish will, evidently, get you through Lesson 4 of Disk 1 (out of three!) on Rosetta Stone. Awesome. And, I'm pretty sure the Spanish-speaking housekeeper is getting nervous listening to me yell, "Las bicicletas son amarillas!" at the computer.

Also, Cousin David is visiting from Kansas. He's staying with Shawn's parents. But, I've somehow managed the coup of sending both of my children with G'Pa, as well, the past couple of mornings! And, tonight all three kids are going to have a slumber party at G'Pa and G'Ma's house so Shawn can take me out for a Birthday Dinner. Have I mentioned how much I love my in-laws?

I should probably appreciate them now, though. I'm pretty sure they'll be dead by the morning. These three kids are a lot to handle all at once. Their rowdiness grows exponentially when placed in the same room together.

And, there is a better than average chance that I signed up to host that slumber party tomorrow night. I'm getting dumb in my old age.

Anyway. Happy Birthday to Meeeee!

Sí, Yo Estoy Aprendiendo Español

Yes, I'm learning Spanish because, well, duh. Why wouldn't I be learning Spanish?

Actually, I'm learning Spanish for Lent. I don't usually like to talk about what I'm doing for Lent*, but I realized it was a little odd to announce that I was learning Spanish without a bit of an explanation.

Anyway, I stole my mom's Rosetta Stone. And... I'm off.

I've finished Lesson 1. So, pretty much, if you need me say "hello," "goodbye," or tell you that he/she/they are eating/drinking/running/reading/or cooking... I might be able. If you gave me some time to think about it.

And, that Spanish title for this post?

I had to use Google Translator.

*(DISCLAIMER: The following expressed views, opinions, positions or strategies are Ali's alone and do not necessarily reflect the views, opinions, positions or strategies of any other religious and/or reasonable person in this universe.) I think Lent is our time to think about the sacrifice and gift God gave to each of us, personally, on Easter. Therefore, whatever we sacrifice or dedicate as a penitence to God should probably be kept between us and God, don't you think? I mean, I know someone might ask, or you might have to explain why you're passing on that glass of wine (so people don't accuse you of being pregnant and then you're all mad and that's not what God intended for his children...) - I mean, I don't hold it as closely a guarded secret as I would, say, my cherry pie recipe. But I don't know. For me, it's personal.

But, don't even get me started on the people who use Lent as their own personal kick-start to a diet every year... But, I'm not judging. Nope. I gave that up for Lent, too. Oh. Wait. Damn...