Monday, February 9, 2015

Does shivering count as exercise?

I can't feel my fingers.  Our furnace decided to stop working at some point Saturday night.  Eli woke me up on Sunday with the romantic phrase: Get up and get the kids, the furnace is broken.  We also had a showing that afternoon.  I thought cleaning the house for a showing was bad, but cleaning it when it's 55 degrees in the bathroom is worse.  Since it was Sunday, we called a couple of repair places who promptly did not call us back.  We finally got ahold of someone Sunday night who offered to come out immediately for $280 or first thing Monday morning for $120.  We knew what was wrong with it, it was a ten-minute fix, and there was nothing we could to do to get the part to actually fix it ourselves.  So being sturdy Wisconsinites, we decided to spend the night shivering and made an appointment for Monday morning.  I did not sleep well. Despite piling four blankets on top of me and having a heated mattress pad under me, I still got blasts of cold air every time I shifted.  Fun.  The kids were fine because we put heaters in both of their rooms. When I woke up this morning, it was 50 degrees in the house.  I decided that the urge to pee was not nearly as strong as my need to not be frozen to the toilet seat.  I also decided that I would make a hot breakfast this morning because at least the stove warmed up my hands.  That was the same reason I studiously did the dishes first thing.  The repairman came when promised and the furnace was up and running ten minutes later.  Unfortunately, it takes a long time to heat up a house with poor insulation.  Unsurprisingly, the people who looked at the house on Sunday were not interested in purchasing it. 

C's first birthday is just around the corner, and we're celebrating with cake and sandwiches.  If you're in the area around 3pm on Sunday, Feb. 15th, stop on by and get some free food and entertainment.  C loves his food, and I can't wait to see what he does to the cupcake we're going to give him. 

In preparation for the toy bonanza soon to be upon us, I've told D that we're going to sort through his toys and give the ones he doesn't play with to kids who don't have toys.  I have high expectations of this going horribly.  D doesn't really share on his best days, so I assume this will force him into full on hoarding of all his stuff.  He seemed fine when we made valentines for his class this weekend, but I'm not sure he understands that he'll be giving those away.  Guess we'll find out on Thursday.  Should be fun. At least more fun than playing keep away with a frozen toilet seat. 

Monday, February 2, 2015

I'm sure they have a lot of protein.

I remember talking to somebody at some point (I know, I can't really be any vaguer than that) about how I was glad I had all boys because then I never have to live through a princess phase.  Don't get me wrong.  I'm a total Dizgeek, and I love princesses, but I wanted my kids to be interested in things beyond royalty.  A few years later, lo and behold, fate laughs at me again.  I'm pretty sure D is a Disney princess in training.  Some evidence, if you will: He loves things that are pink and soft or fuzzy.  He always wants the pink straw or the pink floss pick.  He insists I give him the "soft blankie" every night.  He steals my sparkly hair clips and wants me to put them in his hair.  He picked the Ariel sticker over the Cars sticker at the doctor last week.  And probably the biggest piece of evidence: Every time it's sunny outside, ladybugs start crawling all over the inside of our windows.  D loves the ladybugs.  He calls them his friends and carries them around with him.  He sings to them.  If this were a forest and the ladybugs were rabbits, I'd just buy him a tiara and have it done.  The best part is that if D is the princess, then C is the evil villain.  One of his greatest pleasures in life is to find a helpless ladybug and snack on it for lunch.  (Don't worry, ladybugs aren't poisonous...I checked.)  It happens so often that I just assume there's a ladybug in there if he's got something in his mouth.  D has noticed C's preoccupation, and he gets really upset every time C starts chewing.  His reason?  C is eating his friends.  That's not something you can say very often and be okay with.  I'm starting to get a little upset myself because if D is going to be the princess, maybe he can convince his little friends to start cleaning the house for me.  That'll never happen if I'm letting his brother eat them at will. 

 Eli started his new job today.  It's very exciting for all of us, but it marks a new phase in our schedule.  Since Eli is working from an office/guest room upstairs, we have some new challenges to deal with.  I've had to explain to D several times that Daddy is at work, and we can not go into the room.  No, not even to show him your new ladybug friend.  It also means that he will probably no longer be getting up at 6 to get ready for work.  This is great for Eli, but it means that now I have to help get up early and get the kids breakfast.  Eli always did it before because he was already up.  I'm not yet sure how I feel about that.  I'm hoping he'll be available to play with the kids for more than an hour a day now though, so that would totally be worth it.  He gets off at 5 now, but since he can sleep in, he hopefully won't need a nap at that point.  That means the kids get him for an extra hour (and I get an extra hour of help while I'm trying to make dinner.)  The biggest thing is that this work from home job lets us live wherever we want.  All we're waiting for is an offer on our house and we're going to book a flight to Denver to buy a house there.  Probably.  The stipulation on Denver is that we have to find a house we like in our price range, but I'm not worried.  Even if we can't find anything, I'm happy with Tampa as a second option.  We've already found houses we like there.  And big plus, D can expand his menagerie at either location.

I had to go in for a blood test today.  If you remember, I developed hypothyroidism while pregnant with C, and my hormone levels have been slowly returning to normal.  We're checking today to see if I can stop taking the daily medication.  That would be awesome, but then I'd lose my handy excuse for why it's so hard for me to lose weight this time.  I've been slowly, SLOWLY dropping the pounds, but I've had to be extremely strict with my eating and I work out 1-3 hours a day.  Every day.  That's a lot for most people. I've been a Weight Watchers member for nigh on ten years now, and I don't remember it being this hard the last time.  I finally gave in and bought an activity monitor (turns out Weight Watchers has one).  According to this thing, I'm active all day anyway.  Add in the gym time and I get a half a day's worth of points back.  For those of you who aren't familiar with Weight Watchers, a half a day's worth of points is a LOT.  That's like an extra cupcake's worth of calories each day.  And not those skimpy little cupcakes from the grocery store.  I'm talking the huge cupcakes from Gigi's with the mound of frosting on top.  I don't eat the extra cupcake calories, clearly, but it's still slow going.  Having said all that, I've changed up my work out routine to include a lot more strength training with weights and slightly less cardio.  I think that kind of work out will make me stronger in the long run, but I won't lose pounds as quickly.  As long as that holds true and I do lose the pounds eventually, I'm happy with it.  Mostly, I just want to fit into my old clothes again.  I miss my clothes.  They call to me.  And also, I want to look good for my 5 year anniversary trip to Punta Cana.  I want to wear a bikini and be comfortable.  Maybe I should look into C's new ladybug diet, he seems to love it.