This can’t be summer?  It just can’t be.  It really sucks.  It’s cold, and rainy.  It feels like somebody switched coasts on me when I wasn’t looking.  I am not on the East anymore.  Somehow I was teleported to BC.  Don’t know how it happened but change it back!  I want to go to the beach dammit!

 Millhouse went on and on last night for almost twenty minutes about a panini that he got from the new gas station.  He has a knack for finding gas stations that sell more than just gas and 30 day old hot dogs, I have to give him points for that, but I am still skeptical of eating anything from a gas station that is not pre packaged, freeze dried, deep fried and salted or encased in chocolate.  He is braver than I am.  But that panini smelled funny. 

 Boot camp is over and in some sick, twisted sort of way I miss it.

 On Cake Boss last night Buddy iced a cake blindfolded.  He even made an icing rose and put it on, blindfolded!  I was beyond impressed simply because I can’t do anything blindfolded.  Pin the tail on the donkey or whacking a piñata can become contact sports when I’m blindfolded.

 Maks is rebelling.  He has decided to do the opposite of everything that I ask him to do.  I ask him to put on his shoes, he takes off his hat.  I ask him to put away his toys, he dumps out his puzzles.  I can’t win and my house seems to be in a permanent state of chaos.

 Another blog is called rambling randomness.  I am not sure if I copied the other person or if she copied me or if we are both geniuses that think outside the box and came up with the exact same name.  But whatever the reason I am changing the name of my blog.  How do you feel about –Randomsity Mommy Style?  I like it but what do you think?

 Along the same train of thought as the new name, I need a new lay out.  I think it is time for a change.

 I want some Indian food.  I haven’t had any in ages and I am really craving some briyani (?) and butter chicken.

 That’s it for today.  This week’s edition wasn’t very riveting but if you head over to the Un Mom I think you will find some unicorns.  Now that is randomness at its finest.

So I gave myself until July 18 to lose 30lbs and now it is time to see how I did.

Now before I give you the actual numbers ~ I have to apologize to all those people from the weight loss shows on TV, The Biggest Loser, The Last Ten Pounds Boot Camp, X Weighted. I always scoffed when the numbers came in and they were lower than the goal. “I mean come on you had six months and you only lost 26lbs!” You should have lost more than that, worked harder, and cheated less. I am sorry for being so judgmental. Losing weight is hard. It takes a lot of hard work and dedicated and sometimes you do fall off track. I now understand.

Now time for my numbers:

Bust: 35 inches (total inches lost 2)
Waist: 32 inches (total inches lost 5)
Hips: 40 inches (total inches lost 1)

So after three months I have 8 inches. Not bad.

Weight: 141lbs

So in 3 months I have lost 21lbs. I am almost where I want to be. And because of that I am extending this journey to include August. I am hoping to lose the final 10lbs by the end of August.

Wish me luck!

Remember this?  Me ranting about wanting more and then not getting more because I was too indecisive and too unmotivated to make up my mind sooner.  Well it looks like I might have a chance.

 Both my boss and his boss have asked if I would be interested in throwing my hat into the pool.  Now I am not sure if they are asking to be polite or to satisfy some HR requirement that makes them consider me because I was my boss’s underling for so long.  Or maybe they do think that I am qualified for the position.  Or (and this is the most probable) the person that they wanted to give it to didn’t want it and now they’re stuck.  They have said that they are going to look both internally and externally and that worries me.

 If they look externally that means that even if I put myself into the running I most likely won’t get the position and them suggesting that I try for it just means that they need to appease HR.  I have a feeling that is what is going on.  I really do think that they don’t want to give me the job.  I think that they don’t want me to leave.  By them suggesting I apply, it means that they can look me over, scrutinize my performance and then turn me down without fear of some human resources tribunal coming down on them.  

 I think that is what is going to happen.  And I am scared of that.  I don’t put myself out there very often and applying for a very public position with a very slim chance of me actually getting the position means a whole lot of embarrassment on my part and I am not sure if I am strong enough to take the rejection.  I like to think that I do possess the kind of strength that will allow me to take this mighty big blow (if it is delivered) and continue on my way but I don’t think that I have that.  If I don’t get this, especially if this is just some set up to soothe HR, I may not be able to stay.  And I don’t want to leave.

 P.S.  My title really had nothing to do with the post.  But if things do go well, I will need a new wardrobe.  My pants are too big and I need new shoes.

That’s what I am.

And I don’t mean that in the weight loss context.  I mean it in the drinking context.

Way back when; before Maks, before crossing totally into the threshold of grown – up – hood I was a pretty descent drinker.  I didn’t drink everyday or anything but on the odd occassion when I did drink I could hold my own with Millhouse and his friends.  They had a two drink minimum ~ which meant you had to have two drinks in your hands at all times.  And they were serious.  It freaked me out the first time I went out with them but then I got used to it.  Better than used to it.  I got good at drinking.  In fact there were times when I outdrank Millhouse.  But not anymore.  Millhouse and I have both lost our ability to drink. 

Which I take as a good thing.

Alcohol is a demon that haunts my family.  It knows that our flesh is soft, our willpower low and that it can dig its claws into us and never let go because once it infects us we don’t want it to let us go.  And because of that I try to stay as far away from it as I can.  There are times when it can’t be avoided but for the most part I do pretty good at staying away.  And my avoidance seems to be paying off.  My insurance company sent me some life insurance quotes and I have a pretty good rate because I don’t drink or smoke.  I guess on top of all the other good reasons for me to not drink knowing that Maks will be very well taken care of if anything were to happen to me makes me want to avoid drinking even more.

Maks is rebelling against the potty.  He was doing really well.  He was peeing and pooping like a pro.  He would go like clockwork at home and at school.  Heck, he was even getting over his fear of public potty’s and going at his grandparents house.  But that is over now.

 He has decided that the potty is not for him.  He isn’t having more accidents or anything; he is just waiting until he is in the bathtub or in his nighttime pull up to go.  According to his teacher this is happening because the newness of the potty has gone away.  Using the potty is now the same old thing and there isn’t the same kind of excitement associated with it like there was when he first started going.  I find this very disheartening.  He was doing so well and now it is like he is giving up on the potty.

 I think I may set up a Bristol board chart for him outside the bathroom and start giving him stickers or a reward for every time he uses the potty.  Maybe that will bring back some of the excitement.

***WARNING:  Beanz and all other prudish readers out there ~ this post involves sex.  More specifically it involves my sex life.  It does not go into detail about positions or anything but it does mention sex and my sex life.  Beanz STOP reading right now because you are a prude and the thought of my sex life is as disturbing to you as our parent’s sex life.  If you continue reading, you cannot convulse, gag or complain later.***

 I want another baby.  Millhouse wants another baby.  We want to be pregnant right now.  I was all excited because my period was 2 days late.  And unbeknownst to me so was Millhouse.  He was double counting on the calendar just like I was.  He knew what day it was supposed to show up and he double counted to make sure that that day was the right day.  When it didn’t show up he counted when I wasn’t looking, adding and subtracting factors.  Getting more and more excited with me as the days passed and nothing showed up.  

 But Aunt Flo showed up and I cried.  

 Up until the day when Beanz told him that Mountain Dew was effecting his manhood, we had been telling people that we’re not really trying.  We are just taking it as it comes.  If it happens, well then it happens.  But the ovulation testers in my medicine cabinet, the ovulation calculator on my lap top and the my fertility friend chart on my desk top all say otherwise.  Millhouse & I conveniently having sex on the 11^th, 14^th, and 16^th day after my period, and whenever the tester turns purple, tells us otherwise. 

 We are trying. 

 Millhouse admitted it yesterday.  He said it out loud and made it official.  We are trying.  We want another baby.  He’s been keeping track of my cycle too.  He has his own chart. 

 We want another baby and we are trying.

On Sunday Stinky turned 7 and she did it like only she can ~ with a frenzied explosion of pink, sparkles, glitter, a piñata, nail polish and Disney Princess paraphernalia.  There were two cakes ~ a Barbie cake with pink icing for the dress and a princess cake with pink icing inside and out.

 She had a blast!

 7 years flew by in the blink of an eye.  And I have a feeling that the other birthdays are going to come and go just as fast.  As Millhouse has pointed out – in 6 years she is going to start high school, in 9 years she will get her learners permit, in 11 years she will graduate from high school, in 11 years she will legally be an adult, and in 12 years she will legally be able to drink.

 WOW!

 It’s truly amazing to watch her grow up.

 I love you more than you will ever understand my Stinky Binky Bum Bum Head!!!

This was supposed to be my Random Thought Tuesday post.  But today is Wednesday so I am a bit late.

********

On your mark, get set, GO!! 

 The Un Mom has let the randomness run free.

 It’s freezing, we’re in the middle of a civic workers strike so there is no garbage pick up, no ferry service and the parks and pools are closed.  Thus far it has rained almost every weekend and if it is not raining is it dark, grey and dreary.  The summer of 2009 officially sucks.

 I asked Maks what he wanted for breakfast, his response ~ lollipop.  I said no, so he asked for chips instead.  Oy, this is not good.

 This was in the news section ~ President Obama wears mom jeans.  Is this really news?

 There’s a lot of talk about this BlogHer thingie going on in Chicago this week.  I think it sounds like a lot of fun but I doubt I would ever go.  It has nothing to do with meeting the bloggers.  I would love to meet the women that I read daily; the ones that make me laugh, cry and everything in between, the ones that have no issues discussing their bobs, bellies, potty training and cramps.  I would really like to meet them in person, thank them for making me feel like I am not alone in this mommy thing.  I would love to hear the stories out loud and laugh with them.  But I would never do that.  I am scared of rejection.  I am not really a part of that group.  I am more of an outsider looking in.  These ‘bloggers’ aren’t really bloggers; they are skilled and talented writers that share tid bits of their life with me.  So to all those going to BlogHer have an amazing time and I truly look forward to hearing the stories when you get back.

 I find Toddlers and Tiaras scary.  Like run for the hills with the speed of a thousand giraffes because something super scary is coming up behind you and is going to eat your brain scary.

And there are all kinds of things that I want.  I would love some actual summer clothes, patio furniture sets, cute sandals, some new bedding and some workout clothes.  But I’m broke.  The changes at work are scaring me beyond words, and if you know me you know how hard that is to do.  The cost of daycare has me pulling out my hair, and I really want to win the lottery.  I really don’t know what the point of this post is.  I think it is just me wallowing in how tough it is to be a grown up.

Millhouse is off gallavanting with my father again.  Now I should be glad that they are spending quality time together and that they get along well enough that they can go out as often as they do.  Trust me I know I could have it way worse than it is.  But it is where they go together that concerns me.  Everytime my husband and my father head out, they head for the same place – the strip club.  Not one specific strip club mind you, they strip club hop.  We are lucky enough to live in an area where strip clubs are in abundance and all within walking distance from one another. 

So just about every month they have a ‘boys night’ where they go out and stay out until about 5am and I stay at home googling diamond engagement rings.  Now staying at home at night while they go out and have a night out doesn’t bother me.  It is the next day that bothers me.  They are both wrecked the next day and that’s what I don’t like.