She'd be even sunnier if she'd take a #&%$ nap
In case you are wondering, I did not partake of an Egg McMuffin after my Weight Watchers meeting yesterday. I ate a chocolate Weight Watchers muffin. Later, though, I met a friend of mine for lunch and ate garlic bread and fries. I tend to get a little splurge-y on weigh-in day and then get back on the wagon after that. Yesterday at the meeting there was a mother-daughter duo that I probably hadn't seen for a year or so. Apparently, they were back to Square One. The daughter's weight gain, in particular, was very noticeable. I felt like I had seen a ghost or something. It was a good reminder to me not to slack off quite so much. I've kept 50+ pounds off, but I continue to grapple with 10 pounds or so. I just don't want to let it get any worse than that. No elasticized waistbands for me, thanks.
I stopped at a craft fair after the meeting. I need to start Christmas shopping one of these days. Our budget is pretty tight, so I've negotiated with most friends and family members to buy gifts for each other's children and then call it a day. I think Christmas should be more about the kids anyway. Both of my sisters were eager to take me up on the deal. Of course, they have two children apiece (well, my new nephew is scheduled to be born via c-section in a couple weeks) and I just have one. I think my kid should get double gifts, don't you?
In any case, I only bought one thing at the craft fair: a baked potato microwave bag. It looks somewhat like this. Apparently, this particular crafter saw me coming. Or at least her husband did. He was one fast talker. Next thing I knew, I had a neon green fabric thing (which was handed to me in a Burger King bag - no lie) and was down five bucks. I'll give it a try, though. I am always lamenting the fact that baked potatoes made at home never taste as good as they do in restaurants. The other offerings at the craft fair consisted of the usual stuff: dish towels with the knitted loop sewn to the top, plaques with sayings like "snowmen fall from heaven unassembled," and jewelry made by every chick who has ever learned how to throw some beads onto a string.
While I was out and about, P took the kid to see "Kung Fu Panda" at the budget theater. They got home shortly after I did, and suffice it to say, he was in a mood. "I'm not taking her to another movie until she is six," he announced. "She said she needed to use the bathroom three times. Three times!"
"Did you let the popcorn run out?" I asked. He nodded. "Well, see, that was your first mistake." Apparently he did not study (and commit to memory) the popcorn graph that I posted back in February.
Since he was so wrung out after spending quality time with his own child, I decided to take her to a pumpkin festival that was going on a few miles away. When we pulled up, I saw one of those inflatable "bounce houses." Or, in parental terminology, a kid-wearer-outer. We headed straight to it and I let her jump as long as she wanted. She also played pumpkin bowling and took part in a pumpkin beanbag toss. Before I knew it, I was carrying around: her jacket, a bottle of water (because she had insisted that she was dying of dehydration), two mini pumpkins, a pumpkin dot-to-dot coloring sheet, and my own gear. After two more jumping sessions in the bounce house, I finally convinced her that we'd reached maximum pumpkin festival.
After dinner, I decided to take A to a coffee/bookstore joint downtown to enjoy a performance by a local folk musician/storyteller. He performed at our church the previous Sunday, so I was familiar with him (as a side note, he looks remarkably like Santa Claus, which makes him pretty likable right there). By this time, the kid was pretty tired and I probably shouldn't have taken her. She was sleepy (but wouldn't sleep) and I could tell she was about to go 'round the bend when we had this exchange in the car:
"Mama, I have to tell you something."
"What's that, Pie?"
"Lights can see in the dark."
"Um, okay."
In a way it did sort of make sense, so I didn't argue with her. We only lasted about 40 minutes at the concert. She was just too unruly. But before we left, there was a funny moment where the singer launched into "You Are My Sunshine." He said he wanted to start with a song that everyone knew, so that we could all sing along. A's eyes lit up and I could tell exactly what she was thinking: "This man knows MY song!" She has a toothbrush that plays it, and she also has it on a CD that one of her cousins gave her. She sang along happily. Things started to deteriorate after that, though, and once her head started spinning around, I tucked a five-spot in the tip jar and snuck out as quietly as possible.
So, that was our day yesterday. I want to give a shout-out to my middle sister, who completed the Army Ten-Miler this morning. I am so proud of you, sister o'mine! I may have gotten a lot more boobage than you did, but you definitely got the athleticism. Good on ya.
I stopped at a craft fair after the meeting. I need to start Christmas shopping one of these days. Our budget is pretty tight, so I've negotiated with most friends and family members to buy gifts for each other's children and then call it a day. I think Christmas should be more about the kids anyway. Both of my sisters were eager to take me up on the deal. Of course, they have two children apiece (well, my new nephew is scheduled to be born via c-section in a couple weeks) and I just have one. I think my kid should get double gifts, don't you?
In any case, I only bought one thing at the craft fair: a baked potato microwave bag. It looks somewhat like this. Apparently, this particular crafter saw me coming. Or at least her husband did. He was one fast talker. Next thing I knew, I had a neon green fabric thing (which was handed to me in a Burger King bag - no lie) and was down five bucks. I'll give it a try, though. I am always lamenting the fact that baked potatoes made at home never taste as good as they do in restaurants. The other offerings at the craft fair consisted of the usual stuff: dish towels with the knitted loop sewn to the top, plaques with sayings like "snowmen fall from heaven unassembled," and jewelry made by every chick who has ever learned how to throw some beads onto a string.
While I was out and about, P took the kid to see "Kung Fu Panda" at the budget theater. They got home shortly after I did, and suffice it to say, he was in a mood. "I'm not taking her to another movie until she is six," he announced. "She said she needed to use the bathroom three times. Three times!"
"Did you let the popcorn run out?" I asked. He nodded. "Well, see, that was your first mistake." Apparently he did not study (and commit to memory) the popcorn graph that I posted back in February.
Since he was so wrung out after spending quality time with his own child, I decided to take her to a pumpkin festival that was going on a few miles away. When we pulled up, I saw one of those inflatable "bounce houses." Or, in parental terminology, a kid-wearer-outer. We headed straight to it and I let her jump as long as she wanted. She also played pumpkin bowling and took part in a pumpkin beanbag toss. Before I knew it, I was carrying around: her jacket, a bottle of water (because she had insisted that she was dying of dehydration), two mini pumpkins, a pumpkin dot-to-dot coloring sheet, and my own gear. After two more jumping sessions in the bounce house, I finally convinced her that we'd reached maximum pumpkin festival.
After dinner, I decided to take A to a coffee/bookstore joint downtown to enjoy a performance by a local folk musician/storyteller. He performed at our church the previous Sunday, so I was familiar with him (as a side note, he looks remarkably like Santa Claus, which makes him pretty likable right there). By this time, the kid was pretty tired and I probably shouldn't have taken her. She was sleepy (but wouldn't sleep) and I could tell she was about to go 'round the bend when we had this exchange in the car:
"Mama, I have to tell you something."
"What's that, Pie?"
"Lights can see in the dark."
"Um, okay."
In a way it did sort of make sense, so I didn't argue with her. We only lasted about 40 minutes at the concert. She was just too unruly. But before we left, there was a funny moment where the singer launched into "You Are My Sunshine." He said he wanted to start with a song that everyone knew, so that we could all sing along. A's eyes lit up and I could tell exactly what she was thinking: "This man knows MY song!" She has a toothbrush that plays it, and she also has it on a CD that one of her cousins gave her. She sang along happily. Things started to deteriorate after that, though, and once her head started spinning around, I tucked a five-spot in the tip jar and snuck out as quietly as possible.
So, that was our day yesterday. I want to give a shout-out to my middle sister, who completed the Army Ten-Miler this morning. I am so proud of you, sister o'mine! I may have gotten a lot more boobage than you did, but you definitely got the athleticism. Good on ya.
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