Summertime

How can it possibly be the middle of July? This is when I usually begin to frantically grasp at summer's corners as it's flying by...but I feel like I haven't even begun to grasp yet.

I suppose it has to do with working. I suppose it has to do with planning our Great American Road Trip down the Pacific Coast Highway (my mind has been focused on August). I suppose it has to do with being slightly depressed about my seemingly unstoppable weight gain. I suppose it has to do with the fact that the older you get, the faster time just rushes past you.

Not that summer has been entirely lost on me. I've been running outside (still at one mile, but feeling good), the boys have played in the sprinkler, we've walked around a lake, and we've been to some BBQs. My husband and I even took a trip to scenic Pittsburgh last weekend to race in the Great Urban Race! (And we placed 43rd, which is good EVEN if you consider that there were only 93 teams! And that we made a beer pit shop!)

Still, I don't feel like I've taken full advantage of being able to walk outside without a coat. I may have to get serious about spending some more time on patios sipping margaritas.

To that end, another recent development is our decision to get a Tuesday night nanny! (she's really just a babysitter, but I like alliteration) From now until at least October, I've got a date with my husband every Tuesday! I'm not entirely sure we can afford it financially, but I feel like it's an investment in our marriage, so we'll balance the budget somehow...patios, here we come!

And one more thing I want to say before I end this laundry list of a blog:

The weight thing. It's not good. I went off my meds about 6 weeks ago and rather than lose, I put on more weight. So on July 2, I got fed up. I had sworn off calorie counting because it makes me neurotic, but I decided I had to at least track my calories for a little while to find out wtf was going on, so I downloaded the My Fitness Pal app to my iPhone and it is fabulous.

Using the app's calculations, I'm only supposed to consume 1200 calories a day. That's not a lot and I balked at first, but it adjusts for exercise, so if I run my morning mile, for example, I can eat a little more. It has this huge database of food, so every time I eat something I can just enter it and it logs my calories (this also handily serves as a food journal, another thing that I'd been trying to start).

I went over my 1200 calories for the first four or five days, but then it just stopped being hard. It's kind of amazing how I can still basically eat what I want, only since I'm being more thoughtful about it, I make better choices...better choices like NOT eating Chipotle or having that half pint of Haagen-Dazs at 10 p.m. (Which honestly is when it tastes the best, but oh well.)

In 13 days, I've lost 4 pounds! If I continue at that rate, I could be down to my goal weight in 10 weeks, which would make me very, very happy and also provide an excuse to book a bikini beach vacation this winter! (Please note that my goal is to lose more weight than what I gained on the meds, as I've been gaining slowly for a few years and I figured if I'm gonna do it, I should do it.)

So here's to achieving goals and having (low-cal) cocktails in the sun!

Swimsuit Parade

As the long-awaited Hawaii trip gets nearer (44 days, but who's counting?) , I have become increasingly obsessed with the swimsuit riddle.

You've given birth to twins, led a sedentary lifestyle and love beer, now you must fit into something made of lycra. Okay, it's not a riddle, I just like that word better than, say, debacle. The swimsuit debacle.

I've been trying the exercise route in earnest. For more than three months, I've treadmilled regularly, even working my way up to running an entire half mile without dying! And it's helped a little...a really little.

But now it's come time to actually purchase that dreaded swimsuit. Despite not having worn one in 8 years, I really pictured myself in a bikini (ok, not myself, but someone like me who is in much better shape) just because, I don't know, it seems like Hawaii calls for a bikini. Plus I think in my mind I pictured it being some kind of pay off for pushing through my hatred of exercise...my reward for actually sticking with something for, you know, three whole months...turns out walking a mile, or even run/walking a mile doesn't produce miracles...I know that you are as shocked as I am.

Alright, so I should admit that I am saying all of this having already ordered the damn bikini. It came in the mail and, while the pattern perfectly fits my picture of Hawaii, my belly in it does not. This caused me to realized that if I'm going to be spending 75% of my time in a swimsuit for a week, then I probably need to feel good enough to leave my hotel room.

This has induced a sort of feverish spree of swimsuit ordering. Suddenly I want to try on every swimsuit, in hopes that there is, in fact, one that will give some illusion that I'm skinny...and possibly not flat-chested. This journey has led me to discover that swimdresses have made a comeback. Or possibly they never left and I am just old enough to actually consider one. Seriously, if I wear a swimdress in Hawaii will I be announcing to the world that I have given up? Or possibly that I have senior citizen envy? Hey, if it was good enough for Marilyn...

What will the outcome of this swimsuit parade be? Will I find a suit that is comfortable, flattering and does not add 25 years? The suspense is killing me.

Love, Food and Art

Whether you were celebrating or boycotting, I hope you all had a nice Valentine's Day. Mine was even better than expected thanks in part to a last-minute offer by my wonderful stepsister to take the boys overnight. (In case you've ever thought of making such an offer to a parent that you care about, let me assure you that there is no greater gift.)

We celebrated with the boys during the day by eating some heart-shaped pizza. Then once they left for their overnight adventure, we had to figure out what to do with ourselves. We assumed dinner anywhere nice was sort of out since we didn't have reservations, but we decided to take our chances at the bar of an Italian place and since we got there before 6 p.m. (yes, we know how to party), we got a table! 

Now, let me preface all this by saying that I suspended my calorie counting for the night because calorie counting is neither fun nor romantic. So along with some lovely Shiraz, we shared some overly creative bruschetta and then some lobster fettuccini, which was yummy, yummy, yummy. I enjoyed every single calorie. 

We had decided to see "Slumdog Millionaire" after dinner, so we were going to skip dessert and then maybe get some after the movie, but when I saw Bananas Foster on the menu, I knew what I must do.

To assuage my guilt for eating this, I've decided that the pleasure it brought me far outweighs its unhealthy qualities. (I wonder why I can't lose weight?) Seriously, I need a personal trainer purely so that I can eat dessert with every meal. Anyway, dinner was really nice. 

Then there was "Slumdog Millionaire." Amazing. I realize we were late in seeing it, but if any of you haven't seen it yet, go now. It's a beautiful film and a brilliant story. The kind of movie where you leave the theater feeling better for having seen it. And the soundtrack is awesome, too.

All in all, it was a perfect Valentine's Day. No roses or chocolates required. 

The New Leaf I Am Peeking Under

I have returned from Las Vegas. It was an interesting trip. I watched one of my BFFs jump out of a plane from 3 miles in the air. I went to a gun range and shot a glock (and was unexpectedly shaken up by the experience). I saw first-hand that Liberace was a megalomaniac. And I learned that going to Las Vegas with people who don't want to spend a lot of time eating, drinking or gambling is kind of dumb...on everyone's part. 

So here I am, home again, with an intensified focus on the lose weight/spend less challenge. Obviously my trip to Las Vegas ran counter to both of those goals (although I won $346 on a Monopoly machine!!!), but I am ready to get back on the horse. I am proud to report that today I both exceeded my grocery bill goal (as in, I was under $75) and I launched a weeklong calorie counting experiment. 

It's pretty much what it sounds like: I'll be counting the calories I eat and trying to stay under a certain number. (I know you're thinking that this is something most normal people do but, like exercise, it's new to me.)  I suppose that makes it a diet, but since I don't really do diets, I prefer to think of it as an experiment. We'll see if I can make my goal for 7 days straight and then I'll think about whether I want to continue it. 

As day one draws to a close, I can report that I successfully met my goal and that I already don't like it. However, I'm accepting the unfortunate fact that it is highly unlikely that I will ever follow an exercise routine intense enough to let me eat whatever I want without continuing to gain weight, so I have to reign in the calories. Bummer. 

In anticipation of starting this experiment, I had my first anxiety dream about it last night. I was at a movie theater, holding the popcorn in my hands, ready to put the butter on it, and I thought, "But wait! I'm watching my calories!" And then I slathered the butter on and ate it anyway. 

Sign of things to come? Stay tuned. 

The Joys of Hermit-hood

Ever since my freelance work dropped off into oblivion and my job hunt revealed itself to be full of disappointment, I've turned my obsessiveness to saving money and losing weight. 

I told you about my neurotic grocery budgeting, which so far is proving to be a real challenge to successfully execute. I'm also attempting to save money by becoming a hermit. (Hermits never have to worry about all those miscellaneous expenses.) The below zero temperatures are making this endeavor much easier. 

As for losing weight, it's not that I have a lot of weight to lose, but since I hate (hate) exercise, have no willpower, and love sugar and butter, it's more of a psychological battle. Really, it's not about the weight as much as the jiggliness in the mid-section. I'd happily stay at my current weight if things were just a little bit more...defined. But also, I need to be healthier. I have no endurance and my body is aging faster than I am, which is no good. 

And so I am treadmilling. This might sound like no big deal to those of you accustomed to physical activity, but for me it's quite an accomplishment. Obviously I need to do more than walk if I really want to be in shape, but you have to start somewhere. 

If I can stick with the treadmilling habit, I'll think about adding in some weights or something...I don't know, are there pro bono personal trainers? I need someone to hold me accountable besides me because I'll just tell myself to shut up and go bake some more cupcakes (although I promise I'll feel guilty about it for weeks). 

So will I emerge from this "transitional time" (that's how I like to think of it) healthier and with more money in our savings account? Maybe...or maybe I'll just stick with the hermit thing - you don't really need money or a good figure to be a hermit, right?