White Lightning Has a BooBoo (And not the Honey kind)

First of all, I've just now decided to name my Jeep White Lightning. I think it's appropriate.

So there I was, minding my own business, driving to the Y to get my work out on, when my stupid phone decides to do the 2 step across my console. I do what any normal person does and I look down, grab it, and throw it in my purse.

And then I looked up......and BAMMMMMM.

I had just enough time to try and slam on my brakes before my pretty little Jeep's nose slammed into the ass of a Chevy Silverado. Next thing I knew, I my hood looks like a folded piece of paper and my left pinky hurt.

I'm ok. Besides my pinky. Which is tragically sore for some weird ass reason. And thank you Baby Jesus that Dillyn wasn't in the car with me.

But DAMNNNNNNNN. It was a damn near brand new car!!!!

It happened so damn fast.
Stupid phone.
But it easily could have been me just changing the radio station. Or looking in my rear view.

Accidents happen. I know. But it's still poopy.
Thank God I'm ok, and the other person was ok. White Lightning will live to drive another day.......like forever from now until she gets fixed.

Until then I get to drive the beast of a truck my husband usually uses to hunt in. I feel like I could drive over the Sphinx like a golf cart drives over an ant hill. On a positive note, any high school kid that sees me thinks I'm a badass. Yup, that's right. Be jealous. Be very jealous.

Anywhoozle. That was my monday. It sucked donkey balls.

Ten Things Thursday!

Thank the pretty little stars it's Thursday. Because I have lots of randompantsness!!!

1. I threw out my right boob on Tuesday.
Yup.
That's right.
I hurt by boob. Only me.

Considering that my tatas are the equivalent of a tube sock with a ping pong ball on the end, you'd have to wonder where the muscle came from that I pulled. Perplexing, to say the least.

So there I was in Torture Class For Your Boobs (also known as Body Design), and I was huffing and puffing through push ups and swinging this 12 lb weighted bar from side to side (not at the same time, mind you. We did push ups and then hopped up and grabbed the bar and tried to swing first to the right so your elbow is above your head, then to the left. It's complicated. Naturally.) And all the sudden, by right boob felt like it was going to explode. Or just fall off. Sever ties. Shrivel up and land with a phflatt on the pretty wood floor.

How does this shit happen to me.
I've had more problems with my girls since giving birth than anyone should ever have problems with mammary glands.
Welcome to motherhood. (Jordan & Tina I'm talking to you.)

2.  Speaking of working out. Guess who worked out 5 times last week???? And every time was at least an hour long. And ONE time was 1.5 hours!!!

Yup!

This girl!!!!

Golf claps for me.

3. I haven't lost much weight though. About 4 lbs. Which is awesome for the 2 weeks that I've been 'back at it'. You know what I think contributed the most to that loss............the fact that I haven't shoved a donut in the hole in my face for 2 weeks. Again. Golf claps for me overcoming my donut addiction.

And to curve my chocolate addiction, I've come to the conclusion that I just can't go 100% sugar free cold turkey. Nope. Just can't do it. I end up craving chocolate so hard that next thing I know I've mowed down an entire box of Oreos and it's only 10am. 

That didn't happen today or anything.

 What has been helping is buying a bag of Hershey's Kisses and  I only allow myself to have 5 a day. I've got almond and dark chocolate ones.

+2 points for me thinking about 'healthy' chocolate.

4.  Baby girl is getting teeth!!!

And 2 days later I want to punch the tooth fairy in the crotch.....because baby girl is getting teeth. **said in a growly pissed off voice**

I haven't slept in 2 days.

I miss sleep.

5.  On a positive note. When you're up early, early, EARLY at the asscrack of pre-dawn, you have time to do things that you haven't had time to do in 6 months.......like pluck the wooly mammoths that reside above your eyeballs.

Bonus.

6.  Speaking of baby girl. Here's her V-Day pictures!!!! SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

Yes, yes, you just want to squeeze and smooch those puffy little baby cheeks. I know. I do it every day. And it never gets old. ;-)

7. I just spent the last 49 minutes listening to Chatty Cleaning Cathy at work talk to me about her elderly ward that is a pain drug junky, has a bladder issues, falls repeatedly, whose cat is a psyhopath, and her house is literally coming apart in sections. 

That is 49 minutes I will never get back.

Not to be mean or unsympathetic.....but jeez. I could have summed up her story in 2.4 minutes.

8. On the topic of employment. I'd love to rethink my employment options. Like rethink them to be free of dumbfucks.

Seriously.

It is amazing the amount of stupidity that I have to deal with on a daily basis.

Ohhhh, you told a customer that we (by we, I mean ME) could have their project (that normally takes 4 hours) to be complete in 34 minutes??????

Sure. I'll get right on that.

Thank the Fun Gods that my staff in my teeny department are the bomb.com. I'm pretty sure if I didn't have them I'd be in an institution by now.

9. In my 'Ode To My Life Not Being Busy Enough With A 6 Month Old', I've decided to paint the dining room.

Our house is about 86 shades of beige. With a beige couch. And light colored wood furniture. So my craving for color is about as strong as my craving for a bacon taco. 

Which, there is such a thing as a bacon taco. 

Feast your eyeballs on this precious:

Anywhoozle. I needed a little red delicious action to liven things up. 

I'm almost done with the dining room.

Then comes the bedroom in sage green and gray.

Then comes getting the ground ready for garden season.

And then comes my exhaustion induced coma.

10.  I think I need some sort of challenge to keep my interest in exercising. I mean, I LOVE working out with my new workout buddy (Shout out to Tamra!!!). And I LOVE doing exercise classes with my other work out buddy (except for the Boob Torture Class) (Another shout out to Chassity!). But I need something more. Ya feel me????

So I'm thinking about starting a push up challenge.

Exactly.

So, I'll let you know how that shenanigans goes.

Cheers to beers y'all! Have a great Thursday!

This Saturday night I get to have a GIRL'S NIGHT OUT!!!! Whoop Whoop!!!! I'm so excited I could piss glitter!

PS. This took me all week to write. In between breaks and on lunch. This crazy busy business can stop. Anytime.

I made a friend.

So anyone that knows me, either on my blog or in person, knows that I don't make friends well. About as well as a wet fart sticks to a slippery slide.

I'm socially awkward. Shy. And verbal shit comes outta my mouth like a waterfall.

Yes, yes, on here I'm so outgoing. And funny. All all sorts of funtastic.

But in real life I feel like a slug on rollerblades. It just doesn't work.

So, low and behold, I've made a new friend. And I didn't have my husband's friends influence (which has been freaking amazing by far. I mean, in what world do you get along with ALL your husband's best friends wives????? Ya. My world.  And that never happens. I'm one lucky beeatch.)

I know she's probably going to read this and…….run the other direction. But I'm writing about it anyway.

We've worked out together. And that was awesome. And wouldn't you know that as we're leaving the gym she's all, 'I'm starting a club for woman who love beer. Good beer. You should be the first member.'

WHAAAAAA?????

Pretty sure we are destined to be together….as friends of course….for life. If you mention beer, I'm your friend. Easy peezy.

New friends rock.

Oh another note. Completely random and off topic. Typical.

Words of Wisdom: Do not eat chili and brownies and ice cream before you go to a work out class that makes you want to die within the first 10 minutes. And before y'all are like, ' who eats brownies and chili together?!?!' Well, this girl does. And she likes it. Moving on.

So I had TWO bowls of chili. Yes. Yes. I am a rock star.

One bowl was extra spicy with habaneros, and the other was straight vegetarian.

So I had the spicy/veggie/chili/chocolate farts through the entire class.

Just kill me. With a spork to the eyeball. It'd be better than the 59 minutes of juicy toots in a 'Body Design' class at the Y.

So I made a friend and sent 56 people screaming in the other direction. All in *basically* one day.

Be jealous.

Has this ever happened to you?

Picture this:

Your 6 mo old daughter is sick. She has a fever, and a nasty cough. So you take off work and stay at home. Praying to the doctor gods that you can get in to the physician the same day without an appointment. You call 2 minutes after they open and get an appointment 28 minutes later. Hallelujah! Since it takes about 40 kazillion minutes to just get the baby ready to go ANYWHERE, you have about negative ten minutes to get yourself ready.

But it's ok, because all you're doing is going to the Dr down the street, right? You jump out of bed, throw on a sweatshirt over your nightgown, wrangle into a pair of sweatpants and then tend to your babe. There's no make-up, no hair combing, and most importantly, no over the shoulder boulder holder (or more like an over the shoulder pebble holder since breastfeeding sucks the life out of your boobs).

Once at the doctor, they tell you that you need to take her to an bronchiolitis (sp?) clinic downtown to suck the boogies out. Oh the joy. But again, you realize that you're going to the hospital and there's no one that's going to care that you look like a cracked out homeless junkie.

But for some reason, on the 20 minute drive to the hospital, you forget that you look like you haven't showered in 2 months and you call to ask your husband to lunch. He accepts.

 Oh the joy.

You meet at a mexican restaurant down the street from the hospital, and low and behold he shows up with his entire office. And I'm not talking about the co-worker that's already seen you drunk off your ass at the lake last summer. I'm talking about his accountant, his co-worker, and HIS BOSS.

Super.

So there you are, guzzling salsa, and sitting in your nightgown, bra-less under your sweatshirt, with your husband's Boss. The entire time you sat through chimichunga's and burritos you hoped your new found awesomesauce mommy nipples wouldn't start to peak into overdrive because of the -20 degree wind chills.

It's a glorious day.

Anyways. I'm just wondering if this has ever happened to you?

I can't confirm or deny it's happened to me.

I admit nothing.

Lindsey, this is for you.

My poor, poor friendy Lindsey is at home today….and probably tomorrow. Because she's a teacher. And teachers rock.

And she needs reading material.

You're welcome girl.

I'll take one of those fab desserts you make as payment. Stat.

So today was interesting. First off, I tried to wake up early because of the Wichita Whiteout grrrrr…..said in a wrestler/tiger accent by my husband (yes he did say it with a growl. Completely normal.) But that didn't happen. The waking up early part, I mean. The growling by the husband totally happened.

Then, of course, Baby Girl had to be all sassy pants and start crying while I was trying to get ready. So in order to calm her down I turned the blow dryer on and pointed it at her while she sat in her Bumbo on the counter.  Well…….10 minutes later while changing her I noticed that some damn horrible terrible mother didn't have the blow dryer on low like she thought, it was on high. And caused a red mark on her leg. Ughhhhhhhh. Mother of the year…. right here. She didn't seem bothered by it. She loves the blow dryer and just sticks her face as close as she can and shakes her hair like a Pantene commercial. But still. I think I cried all the way to work.

Then I got to work and snowmegeddon happened. Nothing like working in a blizzard and wondering if you're going to have to camp out under your desk with a 6-pack or if you're going to die getting home. But in the end, I got to leave at 2pm. Thank the lord. And I didn't die trying to get home. Bonus #2!

Bonus #3……I got to hang with this beautiful girl:

God I freaking love her!

And now I'm drinking a few beers and blogging.

Good end to a shitty start.

Peace out my homies!

Day 1 of Hating Life.

As my friend Jessica pointed out, I'm reigning in my sugar situation in the month of chocolate overload.

Yup. Pretty much doomed to fail.

But I got to thinking, if I wait till V-Day is over, then it'll be Easter. And that candy aisle is just as bad as freaking V-Day. And if I wait until after Easter, then it'll be summer and the thunder thighs and mammoth badonkadonk will have to make an appearance in a bathing suit......and people will see. Those poor people's eyes.

So I'm sticking with starting today. So far I've had cereal and chili with pita bread.

And I'm about ready to gnaw my desk leg off because I'm so freaking hungry. Why is it that the minute you start to 'eat right' you think you're going to waste away and die of hunger???? Huh???? Riddle me that shit! It's like the cosmic universe's way of saying, 'This is going to suck. But I'm going to make it suck that much more by making your body seem like you've been on a fast for 39 years. And it's only been 39 minutes into your new lifestyle.' FML.

I am going to go to the gym tho. I need to get this jiggle under control. I know it's bad, that I shouldn't berate myself so, but every time I look in the mirror I am disgusted. And I know that having a baby really changes your body. But it's not even about losing weight any more. It's about muscle. I FUCKING HAVE NONE. My batwings are enormous. My ass is just one big cellulite bubble. And my waste has a fucking tire around it.

Remember pre-pregnancy I was about 150 and was bitching about losing 10 more lbs. And ya'll were like, 'You look great! You look great! You look great!'. Ya, well, I should have believed you then. I'm 167 now and I pray to the weight loss bitch every damn minute to be back at 150.

I know, I know, I'll get there. And eating right is just the first step. And it'll take awhile.

Ok. pity party for 1......over.

Time to be positive. That's my word for the year: POSITIVE.

I'm positively going to ROCK this shit.

Ready? Set? GOOOOOooooooooooooooo.