Well that was a really dumb goal.

Jumped out of the shower today and started digging through my closet for some clean clothes to wear to work. Meaning of course, t-shirts and yoga pants need not apply. Found a shirt I haven't touched in forever, and low and behold, it fit. Woot! Bully for me! But I just couldn't for the life of me find a clean pair of jeans smaller than 14s but bigger than 4s. Harrumph. And that's when my eyes wandered up to the jeans I've had hanging over the bedroom mirror all week.

You remember those:

Should I? 

Just to try?

Well, this is probably going to make me cry, but whatever. I'm desperate. 

And it turns out that this:

So that was a really stupid goal. I mean, I'm 4 days into this new 30 day challenge, and doing well. But not that well. Not smaller jeans well. But there are two important factors at hand.

1) These jeans are stretchy. Like, almost one-size-fits-all kind of stretchy. I assume these jeans were built specifically to be Happy Good Mood Day Jeans. 

And

2) I'm afraid of my clothes and the feelings they make me have. I've got a good sized section of my own closet labeled "Don't Touch It, It'll Make You Cry". I have actually been afraid to try on clothes before, only to find that by the time I did, they were a little on the big side.

Needless to say, when I made these my goal, I had no real idea whether or not these pants would fit. All I knew was that last time I wore them, I was 5-10 pounds lighter than I am now. Which I assume means I'm getting super extra toned and sexy. You should see how hard I'm flexing right now. IT'S AMAZING. 

So although I'm glad I have clean pants on today, (dear heavens I hope I'm not compromising the structural integrity of these pants), this doesn't change anything. I still look pretty much exactly like I did in the last post, and I still have 26 more days of lunges and planks and crunches and tears and blood to go.

And I guess maybe I've learned it's time to  clean out my closet, try things on, and stop guessing what portion of my wardrobe is still "goal", and what portion is "work appropriate for today".

 No matter how much it's going to make me cry. 

Day 1 Again!!!! WOOOOOooooo... Boo.

I've been sitting around watching my husband lose 6 pounds off his already stupid stupid slim physique, while I sabatoged my own sad little attempts at weight loss by gorging myself on ice cream. (I earned it. Don't ask me how. I'm sure, SURE that I earned it.)

So today is, once again, Day One. I took some pictures for accountability sake. Or motivation sake. Or something sake.

Yikes. 

Yikes. 

Double yikes. Yikes.

OH. And I also took a picture of one of my bigger motivators right now. Something straight out of my memories:

The size 4 Express jeans I got in the fall of 2012, 6 months after Kid 2 was born and I had gotten 

down to 136 pounds. Dang I was good back then. 

The thing is that I'm getting really tired of remembering the good. I'm sick of fantasizing back on how good I felt, how comfortable I once was in my own skin. I want to stop remembering it and to start LIVING it again. I WANNA WEAR MY SUPER HOT BRAND NAME JEANS AGAIN, dang it!

So to go along with my diet and fit-it-in-when-I-can cardio, I thought I'd also do this:

I like the challenge thing because, well, last time I tried it, I did it, and then I was skinnier. And that's all I'm really looking for right now. Some kind of results, instead of none results.

So there you have it, there's my plan for late- August/ early-September.  Here's hoping for a fan-frick-TASTIC month and a super duper skinny fall, because, my friends, there will be pie. Oh yes, there WILL be pie.

Today is not going very well, Subtitle: Oh dear lord there is blood and urine everywhere

This morning has been a day. Quite, quite, quite a day. The house is a mess, I haven't slept well in MANY MANY NIGHTS, I have work to do and my computer is broken again because why not, and yes, there is blood and urine EVERYWHERE.

I'm so sleepy.

Maybe I should address the bodily fluids real quick. Kaden is potty training, and although he's giving it his bestest best shot, we had a little... big.... hugemongous accident this morning on the couch, which I learned about when I heard my boy screaming bloody murder and staring at his feet like they were being devoured by a dragon. But it was just pee, and we have a bathtub and a variety of carpet and upholstery cleansers at the ready so chill out Kid we are O. K.

Then we plopped down to read a book, all three kids climbing on top of me like I'm some sort of story telling jungle gym. I'm just getting to the good part, where the Snort somehow manages to deposit the baby bird back in his nest and he finally reunites with his mother (Sorry, should've said spoiler alert), when I look up and see the baby grinning like a maniac with a face covered in blood.

WELL THAT WAS TERRIFYING THANK YOU VERY MUCH.

Seems that last night when I ran to the store, he fell, bumped his mouth, and got a cut. Now it seems that, while he plays, he occasionally reopens the cut which causes him zero pain, but lots more blood, which causes me to very nearly lose my bladder control.

Also, seems he accomplished this same feat while in bed last night, and upon closer inspection, his crib looks like something Dexter might have fun with.

But I cleaned just about everything. And I managed to give the 2 year old to take a bath and try again to use the big boy potty "Haha, I DID it, Mahp!" (That's me, I'm Mahp), and got the baby to fall asleep in my arms so that he didn't go back to reopening his wound and making his bedroom look like the site of a violent crime.

Course, as I was writing that, the 2 year old had another accident, and the baby woke up screaming when he heard his brother screaming and their sister wants to know "WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?!?"

I don't know, sweetie. All I can say is, at least this time, there was no blood.