All you can eat...ice cream?

Yeppers.  You read correctly.  All the ice cream that you could ever want to eat.  This, I might add, can wreak havoc on a lactose-intolerant digestive system
We took our annual pilgrimage to visit Blue Bell Creamery.  Every year, on the last Saturday in June, Blue Bell holds its infamous "Taste of Summer".  Translation: all the ice cream, popsicles, fudge bars, ice cream sandwiches, and bomb pops you can eat and all for the low, low price of $5 per person.  Jason always makes a dent in their inventory.  Ethan eats as much ice cream as his little body can handle. I end up sitting on the toilet for the rest of the afternoon.  You'd think I'd learn by now, but no.
Taste of Summer is a real treat for those who people watch.  Boy, howdy, you see all kinds.  The funniest part is the ice cream eating contest.  The contest pits people against each other to see who can eat a half gallon of ice cream the fastest.  This, my friends, is so sad because quite a few contestants afterward are seen with their heads over the nearest trash can.  I'm sorry but the idea of eating a half gallon of ice cream in under 3 minutes and then puking your guts out just to win bragging rights and a free half gallon of more ice cream does not sound appealing AT ALL.
All in all, a good time was had by all, even though I have spent the last 18 hours in the potty room.  Maybe next time I'll remember the Lactaid. 

Jury duty...

Well, I got summoned.  I tried to get out of it but no such luck.  Monday was my first day and consisted of sitting in the basement of the Tulsa County Courthouse.  For 11 hours.  With no windows.  I felt like a vampire, minus the teeth and an insatiable appetite for human blood.

Finally, my name was drawn and I got to go upstairs to the courtroom with 39 other individuals.  It was an interesting experience.  The judge (who shall remain nameless) was a super nice guy and I will be voting for him again.  Once we got in and seated, we were grilled on everything imaginable: beliefs, views, our past, etc. They didn't ask what my view on child molesters was so I couldn't go into dramatic detail about medieval torture.  Crap.  Needless to say, I didn't get picked even though my answers were well thought out and intelligent.  Maybe too intelligent because the people that they picked for the jury were NOT the defendant's peers.  Holy Toledo!  If I EVER got arrested (which I doubt unless they have me practice medieval torture on a child molester), I can assure you that I would not want some of those people to be on my jury.  Let's see...girl who had Vegas tickets and probably had to miss her vacation, guy who needed to pull up his shorts (Good grief, dude, NO ONE wants to see the color and style of your unders!), little old woman who couldn't hear well (EH? WHAT'S THAT YOU SAY?), man who reported seeing Bigfoot on his land ("Well, gollllleeee, sir.  I thinks it was a giant ape with long arms.  And it sings.  And plays the Deliverance theme song on them there fiddle of his.").  The list goes on and on and on. 

They released me and the others on Wednesday morning.  I returned to the dungeon and was dismissed for the week, along with all the other vampires down there.  I am so glad that I didn't get picked to serve.  It was a molestation case and I don't think that the judge would go for the whole "medieval torture" idea if the defendant was found guilty.  And, because I am SO nosy, I looked up the case once I got home.  Whoa.  Let's just say that the verdict will be ALL OVER the 6:00 news next week.  Sicko.

I'm baaaaaack!

To my dearest followers:
While I have taken several months off, I still have not forgotten about you.  :)

Hmmm....well, I survived state testing with my kids.  It was uber-stressful, to say the least.  My kids fared well through the whole process and I managed to not have a total nervous breakdown.  Since I will be teaching Kindergarten next year at a brand new school (don't EVEN get me started on the great debacle I have dutifully named "Nightmare on 56th St."), I no longer have to worry myself on the stress of state testing.  This, I am incredibly thankful for.

I packed up and moved to Beverly, Hills, that is.  Swimming pools, movie stars...but I digress.  I got transferred (truly by God Almighty Himself) to another school in Tulsa.  My new principal is a wonderfully nice guy who truly loves the students (and they know his name!) and my other team members are so amazing!  I am so glad that I got out when I did and I look forward to starting a new chapter of my life at Springdale.  I am still sad that I left some of my dearest friends in that nightmare.  Hopefully, they will come out unscathed but, if I know the minions, they'll get attacked too.  OY!

Wii boxing has kicked my butt

I tried Wii boxing for the first time last night.  We've had our Wii for about 3 years now but I haven't ever had the strong desire to attempt boxing...until now.  Jas was feeling pretty mucus-y (I don't know if that's a word but I'm going to use it here because it is the most applicable adjective that I can come up with) and so we decided to forgo our nightly walk.  I decided that since I needed some type of physical activity to get my heart rate up, I would try Wii boxing.  OY!  Within three 1 min. fights, I was huffin' and puffin', hard core.  By 10 min., I seriously thought that I was dying.  My arms were screaming at me "STOP!" and my chest felt like it was going to cave in.  But, I did enough physical activity to get my heart rate up for about 20 min.  As much as I ache all over this morning, I still plan to spread the mulch in the front yard and go on our nightly walk this evening.  Man, I cannot WAIT for water aerobics to begin!

Epiphany...

Okay.  I have to share with you my epiphany that I had yesterday.  It's been a long time coming and I truly believe that this is an answer to prayer.  I have struggled with my weight almost my whole entire life.  Even when I was at a healthy weight (135 lbs.) in high school, I still thought that I was fat.  My mom, dad, and gma also never failed to let me know if I was "packin' on a few".  After my mom's death (1 month after I graduated from high school), I began to gain weight.  I was in a relationship with a guy who saw me for who I was on the inside (I married that guy 3 years later...) and I stopped caring about my weight.  After Jas and I had been married for about a year, I became frustrated with my weight.  I was a good 60 lbs. heavier than in high school and was really feeling it.  A friend introduced me to Advocare and I began a regimen of "vitamin popping".  That was back in the days of ephedra and I dropped a good 40 lbs. easily in just a few months.  I felt great, I looked great, the stuff was great!  It gave me lots of energy, I ate less, and I loved it!  Unfortunately, what they don't tell you is that once you stop taking the stuff, you WILL gain the weight back.  I was still pretty slim after I had Ethan and had the energy to take care of a baby.  But, once I stopped, the weight was back and then some.  Over the past 10 years, my weight has been creeping up ever so slowly.  A lot of the weight gain has to do with my antidepressant usage over the years.  However, my mouth is just as guilty. 
I realized recently that I am deeply addicted to sugar.  It's my drug of choice.  It's no problem for me to take out a whole package of cookies within a day or two.  I don't just have a couple, I have 12.  Whenever we get donuts, I can eat 3-4.  Sugary sweets don't stay around here very long around.  And, I will eat any kind of carbs if we are out of sweets; potatoes, bread, rice...I have just given up fighting and I have no self control with carbs.
Fast forward to yesterday...I have been praying for an answer, something that I would be motivated by to kick this habit.  My doctor, my family, everyone keeps telling me that I am headed down a bad road that leads to high cholesterol, diabetes, and heart disease but I haven't wanted a change for myself.  The way I looked at it, I was happy and my addiction wasn't hurting anyone.  Yeah, right.
Since my mom's death, I have been the primary caregiver for my grandma (her mom).  Grandma is a proud, stubborn woman who is convinced that the sky is falling and what will the neighbors think about that.  Her way of showing love is constant, biting criticism of those closest to her (namely me and my brother).  She would rather die than to give anyone a helping hand, including Wade and I.  But, it is my duty as her closest living relative to care for her in her final days.  Good heavens, I think that the woman is going to outlive me!  She is not a small lady, by any stretch (this is where I get my bone structure).  Since her stroke 20 plus years ago, she hasn't been able to get around very well.  Actually, it's now to the point where she can barely get up to go eat, go to bed, or go to the bathroom.  But I digress...
Yesterday, Ethan and I took Grandma to the doctor for her 6 month checkup.  Anytime that we go out, it is a massive undertaking that leaves both of us wiped out for days.  Since her legs barely work and she is losing her upper body strength, I am left to basically move her from car to wheelchair, from wheelchair to potty, from potty to wheelchair, and from wheelchair to car.  It's a backbreaking and thankless job.  Well, as I was helping her yesterday, it hit me.  I don't want to be 90 years old and have to rely on others to basically move me because I can't do it myself.  I don't want to endure back surgery after back surgery (she's had 3) because of the extra weight that I carry in front.  I don't want to take 13 different pills 3x daily to counteract bad eating habits.  I don't want to look like I'm pregnant anymore because my tummy sticks out more than my boobs (which, by the way, I weigh at least 50 lbs. more right now than the day I delivered Ethan).  I want to be able to walk for more than 15 min. without having severe, debilitating pains in my lower back.
So, I talked to my doc today about a lifestyle change; the way I view food, exercise, and living.  I am turning 34 in 9 days and I feel like I'm in my 80's.  I can't continue to live like this.  My doc recommended that I visit with a medical dietitian for a "supervised medical nutrition program".  It's not a diet, it's a change that I will make for the rest of my life.  I need to learn how to use food for nutrition, not for my addiction.  It's time for me to kick the habit!
I know that by posting this, I am calling everyone to help me to be accountable for this change.  I'm not doing this to lose weight, rather to learn how to eat so that I am healthy.  By the way, the doc said that I have lost 6 lbs. since he saw me on Feb. 19th.  :)

Oh, Trader Joe's...how I love thee...

Jas and I went to Trader Joe's on Friday while we were in St. Louis.  It was love at first sight!  Good grief, they have so many wonderful products and they are relatively cheap.  We picked up 4 containers of coffee, a couple of 3 buck Chucks, trail mix, salad dressing, 100% real maple syrup, mini PB cups, chocolate covered PB crackers, and whoopee pies.  What is a "Whoopee Pie", you ask?  Well, are you in for a treat!  If you have never had a whoopee pie, google it.  And then make some.  And then invite me over to be the "Official Taste Tester of the Whoopee Pie". WOWEE, WOW, WOW!
However, it will be a long distance love affair; we discovered that they don't ship products and the closest one to us is St. Louis.  And...they probably won't put one in because they sell wine and OK liquor laws prevent the sale of wine in grocery stores.  OY!  I wonder if I can sell my St. Louis family on my love affair so that they might shop and ship for me...  :)

A Closed Mouth Gathers No Foot

Wow. This is pretty profound. We are trucking down I44, listening to a combination of John Cougar Mellencamp and Spongebob (never thought I'd hear those two together but I digress). We just passed a small church about 100 miles outside of St. Louis and I caught this witty statement on the sign. Hmmmm. I think that a lot of crap could be avoided if I would heed this lil' piece of advice more often. I mean, really, how often do we say things that we shouldn't have, things that would be much better left unsaid. Besides, if one gets a mouthful of foot, one runs the risk of getting toe jam caught between the teeth. Yuck.
Sent from my U.S. Cellular BlackBerry® smartphone