Small Slice

Dawn, over at the fantastic blog The Gimlet Eye, reminded me today that yoga is a wonderful way to listen to your body, and get in touch with your inner calm.  She has just made a major move to a new country, and is still centered and focused - amazing.  I need some of that.

It has been years since I managed a daily yoga practice.  In truth, most of the yoga I do now is peppy, child-centered yoga.  Granted, it is fun to bounce around pretending to be a balloon, or to roll around on the floor, but I truly believe that I need that quiet, reflective experience that comes from moving through challenging poses, and feeling my breath flood every cell of my body.

I'm adding a footnote to my Month of Motivation goals - I WILL establish a daily yoga practice.  Either before the kids get up, or after they go to bed, I will give myself at least 20 minutes to reconnect. 

This has nothing to do with the fact that my favorite DVDs star Rodney "pantyman" Yee.  No, really. I'm not even half as flexible as I once was, and yet I know that the rewards will be as great. 

Posted by Jenny at 11:30 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

After giggling myself silly over all your wonderful haikus, I've chosen a few favorites to single out:

Mir -  I almost snarfed my juice when I read this one.  Mir wins a $5 Target card!

Pre-baby ass, gone?
Oh, my mistake. There it is!
Right behind my knees.

Ginny -  Now, this is devotion.  I would almost pay to see that.  Almost.  But I'm nicer than that.  Ginny wins a $5 gift card, too!

Oh, Big Slice panties
I'd wear you outside my clothes,
I love you that much

Elaine - manages to express the clever brainwork of a dieting mind, and also evoke the Stealers Wheel classic - 'Stuck in the middle with you' - Elaine is another $5 gift card winner!

Cupcakes to the left
of me, salad to the right.
Ambidextrous?

HG -  Girl, all I have to say is amen.  Amen, amen, amen.  HG is our final gift card winner for the Big Slice Haiku challenge!

Osmosis. That is
how those dam-ned videos
should work. From my shelf

I've got a little something for all my haiku participants - watch for an email from me!

As to my own winning...

I lost a(nother) pound.  I am 177 pounds!  Wooooo! 

I feel like I've been a rogue agent, because somehow I've managed to fill my computer's memory entirely, and it won't allow me to download the photos from my camera to prove that I'm holding true to my promise to photograph all my meals.  I swear, I haven't gone dark.  I'm still part of the team.  I'm just undercover is all.  I'll be figuring all THAT out today and getting those pictures up.

I've been also making good on my promise to exercise for one hour daily, although yesterday, my second half-hour came in the form of pushing a grocery cart around Trader Joe's.  With 110 pounds of kids in the basket.  Plus groceries.  Lots of healthy groceries.

By simplifying my menu this week - the cost of food came down quite a bit.  I'm getting ready to throw myself on the mercy of our ClubMom blogger financial guru, Amanda over at The Naked Ledger to help me get my household budget in order.  Have you guys checked her out yet?  She gives fantastic advice and information - go say hello, and tell her I sent you!

Melissa Wiley, over at The Lilting House is doing fantastic on her decluttering Month of Motivation - she's making me want to pull out some garbage bags and get to work! 

This is Day Three - let's hear how you guys are doing!  Sticking with your goals?  Do you need some encouragement?  A boot in the butt? 

Here's our next contest: From today until Monday, we are going to stick with the plan like glue.  Take a look at those guidelines you set out for yourself, or jump in and declare yourself in the comments to this entry.  Then set a short term goal. 

Mine - I will lose two pounds by Monday, July 5th. 

We'll do this on the honor system, but if you'd like to take before and after pictures of your toes on your scale, or of your closet before and after cleaning, or whatever your goal, that would be fun, too.

Let's do this! 

Posted by Jenny at 10:01 AM | Permalink | Comments (20) | TrackBacks (0)

I promised a contest, didn't I?  Here's what I want you to do:  leave me a haiku in the comments.

Haiku is composed of three lines.  The first line has five syllables.  The second has seven, and the third has five. 

Inspire me.  Amuse me.  Make me jealous with your mad 'ku skillz, yo.  Feel free to leave multiple haiku moments for me.  It can be addictive, I warn you.

Here are your topics: 

1) Dieting
2) Exercise
3) Virtual Models
4) Big Slice Panties

I'll award prizes on Wednesday, and announce the next contest.  Haiku away, and tell your friends.

Motivation Month!
I am inspired to send
you Big Slice panties.

Posted by Jenny at 9:01 PM | Permalink | Comments (62) | TrackBacks (1)

Alrighty.  Although I feel like I've been making healthy choices, and eating well, my family is starting to rebel a bit.  The goal this week is to find simple, pleasing meals that the whole family will eat.

Jenn, over at Trendy 'Tweens and I were discussing what makes a healthy meal.  When you are talking about "healthy food" in this country, the perception is that reduced calorie or low-fat, processed foods are fine, even better than the originals, because they say so, right on the package.  I'll get into that tomorrow. 

Jenn and I agreed on what to select for healthy eating - real foods.  But even more importantly is the way in which you eat them. 

If you sit down to a plate of food, and wolf it down, you body isn't going to have time to tell you that you are satisfied.  Dr. Clower points out that not only is our "full" signal delayed, but our appetites keep adapting to the larger amounts we eat.

"Why is this a problem?  Our body naturally expects a certain amount of food, which is  your appetite set point.  If you keep eating past this "enough already" point, you train your body to expect more food on the next meal.  In other words, you increase your appetite threshold.  Even worse, because your body is such an elegant adaptable machine, "raising the bar" can go on and on.  It's not clear that there's a ceiling."
Will Clower, The Fat Fallacy, page 132

Slowing down and sharing meals with my family is like swimming against the current lately.  It's a struggle to keep the kids at the table.  I have been preparing meals that cause the kids to gag and make "oh, barf" comments.  In short, I'm trying too hard to be fancy. 

No more.  At least, not this week.  Behold the menu for Simplicity Week:

Tuesday: Baguette slices topped with broiled cheese and tomato slices, tomato soup and mixed green salad, sliced fruit with whipped cream for dessert.
Wednesday:  Steamed rice with baked tilapia and peas, with sliced strawberries.
Thursday:  Southwestern Chicken Soup, with warm corn tortillas and watermelon.
Friday:  Open-faced egg salad sandwiches, pickles, olives, sliced fruits and carrots, celery and snap-peas with some sort of dip.
Saturday:  Breakfast for dinner - Waffles, Canadian bacon and cinnamon stewed apples. 
Sunday:  Turkey pot-pie with biscuits and steamed broccoli and cauliflower.

Posted by Jenny at 8:42 PM | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (1)

Ten pounds.  It doesn't sound like it should take all that much effort to shed ten pounds.  Yet here I am, a full month or more into Big Slice, and I've lost one pound.  I am 178 pounds, and that is buck nekkid, on an empty stomach, after using the toilet.  I'm dismayed to discover that exhaling and sucking it in does not lower the numbers on the scale.  Alas.

Many of you have suggested that I take my measurements - so that I can judge my weight loss more accurately.  Believe me, I did.  And I was horrified that my stomach, on June 1st, was a mere 10 inches shy of my ginormous full-term pregnant belly.  I topped out at 51 inches in December 2002.   And I was shocked to find a 41 inch waist still surrounding my body. 

I took my measurements yesterday:

Waist: 40 inches
Hips: 45 inches
Ribs: 38 inches

What a lovely picture so far, huh?  I'm built like Mr. Koolaid.

For fun, I measured my neck.  15 1/4 inches.  I could kick some serious butt with my bull-like neck alone. 

The rest of the torturous, horrifying stats:

Bicep: 14"
Thigh: 24"  (this is my older sister's waist measurement.  On a "fat" day.)
Calf: 16 1/4"

I wanted to cry.  But you know what?  It is what it is.  I'm a woman with a lot of work to do, and I'm finally ready to get it done. 

Melissa Wiley, over at Lilting House has decided to join in the fun with her own Month of Motivation.  She's decluttering one day at a time and posting the results of her 15-minute missions.  Go say hello, and wish her well with her mission! 

If you are blogging about your own Month of Motivation plans, let me know!

I'll post my menu for the week this afternoon, as well as announce this week's MoM contest!  Be sure to check back!

Posted by Jenny at 10:10 AM | Permalink | Comments (5) | TrackBacks (0)

On Friday, I announced my intention to spend the next 30 days moving (much) more - an hour a day, plus iron-clad resolve in the three balanced meals and NO SNACKS territory.  I'm going to record all three meals in my SmallSlice album.  For 30 days, I can do anything.  And here's the thing - so can you.

Then it dawned on me that Saturday is a stupid day to officially start anything - for group purposes, that is.  So, I've already got the ball rolling over here, but let's call Monday, June 26, 2006 our official Month of Motivation starting block.

Why 30 days?  Well, I've heard that it takes about that long to form a new habit.  Or maybe break an old habit.  Whatever.  I'm all about breaking the old and building the new, and I figure 30 days of consistent activity will do the trick.  This doesn't mean that I won't have a off day here or there.  But I'm going to hang onto this wagon with my fingernails, and keep swinging myself back on. 

Want to play along?  Leave a comment, and let me know what your goal is for this month.  Mine?  Lose 10 pounds before BlogHer. 

If you don't currently have a blog - you don't need one to participate.  However, it can be an easy, fun way to keep yourself honest and allow others to offer encouragement.  Typepad offers a free 30-day trial, or you can sign up for a free blog at www.blogspot.com. 

In the spirit of taking this one meal and one activity at a time, I will be giving away daily prizes to commenters - and I'm planning a weekly contest to keep us all on track.  Check back tomorrow for details. 

Posted by Jenny at 8:25 AM | Permalink | Comments (23) | TrackBacks (1)

I'm about ready to get on the mini-tramp and do my thirty-minute blitz.  I'm going to drag it out onto my deck, so I can supervise the kids in the wading pool while I walk-jog-walk-jog-walk-jog.  And then, with one final bounce, I will cannonball into their midst, emptying all the water from the pool, and scattering children like buckshot. 

I don't know if it has escaped any of you, but I have lost exactly one pound since starting Big Slice.  This is not exactly a triumph considering that leaves me with 49 pounds to lose.  I have lost an inch off my waist, my upper arms are slimmer, my legs are firmer, my mood is elevated, and my diet improved.

But seriously.  ONE POUND.  Seriously.  And BlogHer is in 35 days. 

Gulp.

Here's what I'm-a gonna do: 

• I'm going to include ALL my meals in the Small Slice album for the next 30 days - straight.
• I'm going to fill my salad-sized plate with a colorful variety of healthy foods.  Once per meal. 
• NO SNACKING WHILE PREPARING MEALS.  (Gaaah!  The bane of my existence.)
• I'm going to commit to AT LEAST 30 minutes of jog-walking (following Hal Higdon's training plan)
• AND an additional 30 minutes of some other exercise, be it weight training, dancing like an idiot to the Wiggles, the Stripper DVD, something.  Every day.  For 30 days.

I'm determined to see some actual results.  I'll post my measurements tomorrow morning. 

Have you guys been reading Tracey over at Jinkies! lately?  She's personally responsible for at least 30 minutes of my life being sucked away into internet amusements on a daily basis.  She recently posted a great link to a site that allows you to track your monthly cycles online... check it out here.  I plan on using it to see if my cycle truly can be blamed for hunger/eating binges and bloating, or if there are other factors.

Happy Friday, everyone.  Tomorrow is the start of my Month of Motivation.  My Thirty Days of Full-Throttle Weight Loss.  Have mercy.

Posted by Jenny at 12:51 PM | Permalink | Comments (4) | TrackBacks (0)

So, I was all hyped up, laced up and ready to roll this morning.  In fact, I loaded my three-year-old into the stroller, grabbed the other two kids and looped the dog's leash around my wrist.  I held the gate open with a foot as I struggled through.  About four steps into my planned walk, the dog ran a figure eight between my legs.  The kid in the stroller started caterwauling about juice boxes, and my oldest two took off ahead, feigning deafness.

I threw a temper tantrum, right then and there.  Two steps from my own driveway, I called it quits.  I untangled my feet and hauled the stroller up the walk to the gate.  Rather than actually chase down my fleeing children, I hollered over my shoulder something to the effect of "get your happy asses up here right now!"  I am subtle, and leave much to the imagination, huh?

So, I probably burned a few calories, or at least blew a few gaskets, but I still had exercising to do.  I went back to the drawing board.

"Hey kids!  Look! Spongebob!"  Once they were sufficiently engaged, I dragged the mini-trampoline into the living room and set the kitchen timer for 31 minutes. 

I walked for thirty seconds.  I jogged for thirty seconds.  I walked.  I jogged.  I walked.  I jogged.  I walked.  I jogged.  I sent a kid into the kitchen to see how much time was left.  25 minutes.  Sheesh. 

"Mommy!  I want a turn!"
"No, honey, you have to wait.  I have to do this for 30 minutes."
"Mommy, I can do it with you!"
"No.  Uh, you can do it afterwards."
"Oh.  Waaaaaa!"
"Ooh!  Look!  Dora the Explorer!"

More walking.  More jogging.  Over and over.  I sent a kid to check the time, huffing and puffing.  "Go...and...see...what...time...it...say...puff...puff..." 

"Four two three!"' 

"Okay, great"!  That's not at all helpful.  Jogging.  Walking. Jogging.  Walking. 

My youngest watched me with sad eyes for a while, and then her little face lit up.  She raced to her bedroom, and returned with her whoopee-doopee.  This is like a long ribbon on a stick, like a rhythmic gymnast would use.  She handed it to me, all smiles.

So there I was, chugging along, clutching this beribboned stick.  She watched thoughtfully, and then mimed that I should swing it around my head and make swooping arm gestures with it.

Well, why not.  I walked-jogged and flipped the ribbon around.  At first I was sort of half-hearted about the whole thing, but then I got all fancy with it.  I wrote her name in the air.  I wrote my name in the air.  Then I got the idea to jog in a circle and do twirly things with it.

Wahoo!  The timer finally went off, and I sadly handed over the whoopie-doopee to my three-year-old, who mounted the trampoline and put me to shame with her artistic moves.  I'd like to say she gets it from me, but in this case, I think it's the other way around.

Posted by Jenny at 5:41 PM | Permalink | Comments (6) | TrackBacks (0)

The excuses are over.  My knee has healed enough so that I'm not cringing in pain everytime I take a step. 

I'm out the door for a 30 minute run/walk, with all three kids and the dog in tow.  And then, for my next trick, another attempt on the 50 pushups.  This could get really, really ugly.  Or, you know, my butt could become magically pert and my stomach could recede into the boundries established by my pants.  Instantly!  Yes!  That sounds like a good plan!

Gah.  Lacing up my shoes now.  Get out there this morning and get a burst of endorphiny goodness.  We've got a long summer to get through.  Might as well have some natural uppers floating around in our systems.  Go do it, and report in.  I want to know how you all are doing!

Also, my dinners are all out of order this week because I ordered my groceries from Safeway.com, whom I adore, but your shopping is actually done by courtesy clerks, so you are at their whim as to what actually gets delivered.  They usually do great, and hey, if I have to make a quick trip out to the store to get a few things they couldn't find, no biggie.

But this week, they were out of tortillas, apparently.  And salmon.  And yellow rice.  And other things that I sort of needed.  Alas.  I need to suck it up and get to the store.

Posted by Jenny at 8:20 AM | Permalink | Comments (5) | TrackBacks (0)

My husband decided to do a little unsanctioned grocery shopping this weekend.  He went for a haircut and came home with cans of (dog crap) chili, bags of potato and tortilla chips, beef jerky, Top Ramen, artificial everything "ice cream" and a case of Coke. 

I've given up caffeine recently, at the suggestion of my OB-GYN who thinks that maybe, just maybe I don't need any help achieving orbit, and that my recent episodes of Incredible Hulk-type rage over, say, a folded load of laundry being dumped onto the floor, were related to caffeine. I also don't do soda any more.  I don't buy it, don't order it, don't... oh my GOD hand me one of those cans right now.

I sucked down three Cokes in the space of an afternoon.  And yesterday, my left (injured, but still) leg swelled up like a balloon.  It was horrible, and painful and ugly and I'm blaming it on the Coke.  Because really, why else would that happen?  No more soda for me.

Nothing says "I support your effort to feed our family healthy, non-dog-crap foods" like five bags of pure dog-crap.  I am not mad about it, but it is frustrating that so far, all of us still really crave the bad stuff.  I'm doing well with avoiding it, and I know that my tastes are truly adapting to embrace whole, real foods.  But I do wish that the family would be as sold on the Fat Fallacy eating as I am. 

Take last night, for example.  I made a beautiful Cobb salad and warm french rolls, with homemade chicken soup.  (Photos over in SmallSlice)  The kids ate some of the chicken soup, and the rolls, but wouldn't touch the salad.  Well, they ate some bacon and boiled egg, and some of the avocado, but they didn't want anything else.  I chopped and fussed and chopped and fussed for an hour on that damn salad. 

I'm thinking I really need to simplify my menus, and prepare simple, non-mixed dishes for the kids.  Chicken.  Broccoli.  Apples.  Rice.  Things that don't take any sales-pitch.

Posted by Jenny at 9:41 AM | Permalink | Comments (12) | TrackBacks (0)

Well, enough feeling sorry for myself, I say, and back to the cooking and eating healthy.  Along with the traditional theme park fare, where I ate a boatload of fries and assorted things on buns, I also enjoyed some really great, healthy meals.  I'm going to try to recreate some of the good stuff in this week's menu.  I'm also going to get back on a regular meal schedule for breakfast and lunch, and make an effort to savor every bite.  I'm also going to start sharing my children's ratings of these dishes, and I'll reveal what I serve them in lieu of eating the healthy meal I slaved over (damn picky little monsters who don't appreciate my culinary genius) so you can judge how your own family might respond. I can't believe how excited I am to get back to cooking after almost two weeks of eating out.  Behold:

Monday: Chicken noodle soup, Brown Derby Cobb Salad and hot french rolls.

Tuesday: Chicken wraps with avocado, tomato, lime, cilantro and jicama salad and sliced fruit.

Wednesday: Quiche Lorraine, fruit salad and baked beans

Thursday: Grilled salmon with yellow rice and steamed carrots and green beans.

Friday: Spaghetti noodles topped with parmesean, garlic and browned butter, served with steamed broccoli and bruchetta on baguettes.

Saturday: Sweet and sour sausages  - kielbasa, pineapple chunks, diced tomatoes, bell pepper, carrots, celery, onions, served over steamed brown rice with sliced apples.

Sunday: Falafel with yogurt/cucumber/garlic dip, lots of sliced veggies for dipping, watermelon.

Week Four Shopping List:

Posted by Jenny at 11:59 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

Nothing like some unflattering photography to remind you of the absolute need to lose some weight.

Yeesh.  That magic carpet had some serious lifting power.  That was my first thought upon seeing this photo.  I have a whole slew of these photos, and accompanying comments to go with them.  Sigh.  It is so much easier when you don't see it. 

It's sort of painful to realize how far I have to go to get to the body I should have.  I have been mentally fast-forwarding to the finish line these last few weeks.  I have been eating healthy foods, and exercising daily, and it has made me feel sassy.  Seeing these photos was like a cold splash of water to the face.   I feel less sassy today.  Could be the jet-lag, but I suspect it's the realization that I'm a long, long way from the goal.

I have been reluctant to post truly representative photos of my current body, because it feels like surely, in a month or two, I will have thinner, more flattering photos that I could post alongside these current ones, in a before and after triumph.  I owe it to myself to be more honest than that.  The sight of my stomach gooshing over my waistband is motivating.  I see it and realize that I have to work at this. 

But that doesn't mean that I don't plan to have fun along the way.  Now that that vacation baloney is out of the way (hee!) I'm all about your exercise challenges, and exciting, summery menus that will make dieting a pleasure, and ultimately, a success.  Cue the music, people.  I'm getting ready to rock.

I'm such a stinking optimist. 

Posted by Jenny at 6:13 PM | Permalink | Comments (7) | TrackBacks (0)

Holy moly.  We are at the last day of our vacation-o-rama, and that, my friends, is a good, good thing.  I'm listening to my poor mom referee as my children bicker and snicker.  I'm in repacking mode, to be followed by survival until it's time to return the rental car and board the plane. 

To think, I was once one of those mothers who would NEVER give a child Benedryl when they weren't officially ill.  Heh.  Benedryl for everyone! 

I'm off my training schedule now until Monday, and then I'm busting down my plans a bit.  The shin splints are not happening, but I think I was a little ambitious right off the bat.  Our Man Hal Higdon has a 30 minutes of running-walking for 30 days plan to build a good base to begin training, and I plan on talking Kim into joining me on that, before we get back to our 5K training plan.  I think my shins will thank me later.

Remember my big old whopping bruise on my calf from the horse riding incident?  It is finally healed.  The day before I left for vacation, I tripped (so graceful!) and whacked that same leg on the knee - luckily I smacked below the kneecap, no harm done except for a bruise.  That bruise was fading nicely when we headed to the Typhoon Lagoon waterpark yesterday.

Typhoon Lagoon was a beautiful waterpark, and we had typical Lauck family fun, which involves five different ideas about what we want to do, and several stops for popsicles.  After getting blasted in the face, then the back of my head, then my butt by some bratty kids with water cannons in the children's play area, we made our way down to the Lazy River, where I wedged my Big Slice Panties into a chubby inner-tube and floated around the park.

They also have a huge wave pool there, and my husband and oldest daughter waded into the throngs of screaming people, while I stayed in the shallows with the two youngest.  Every time a wave headed toward the "beach" I would scoop my three-year-old onto my hip and hold my son by his wrist, and then braced myself for the rush of water.  After the fifth wave, a very large woman sat down in the surge about 15 feet in front of me, and as she swept backwards with the surge, she took out my famously bruised leg.  Ow.  Luckily, I held on to both kids and managed to retreat a bit, to avoid any further collisions with body surfers.

After a while, my husband and oldest appeared, and we switched.  I was going to ride some waves!  I would embrace my inner swan!  I would glide gracefully through the crashing, chlorinated surf! 

Heh.  On the very first wave, as I turned and prepared to leap with the wave, a kid next to me slammed into my back, driving my (hello! already bruised!) knee into the concrete bottom.  Then the wave hit, and I skidded along the bottom.  Then I stood up, bloodied and battered and dragged my complaining daughter back to her father.  Woo!  I know how to have a good time.

The little kids and I went up and made sand castles and left my husband and daughter to surf until they puked.  (Not really.) Finally, sun-weary and stiff, we made our way home. 

Yes, I am truly graceful and elegant in the water.  Let's all be glad that I never took up synchronized swimming.  I return home with a stiff, scraped and bruised knee, and memories that will last a lifetime.  Ah, vacation. 

Posted by Jenny at 6:15 AM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

Let me tell you something.  There is nothing like carefully planning out coordinated outfits for three children, and wrangling a screeching monkey of a three-year-old until her hair is french-braided, and packing a backpack with everything from an extra outfit for each child (coordinated) and sunblock in three formulas, to extra ziplock baggies and a Tide stain remover pen (LOVE!) only to walk out the front door into torrential rain. 

We're not talking little girlie rain, people. We're talking soaked to the skin before you can get the damn key in the damn lock on the damn rental mini-van door. 

Ahem.

But seriously, cute kids, still cute, but the coordination-effect is entirely wasted when you have them wearing a glorified garbage bag.  Plastic ponchos.  Our ticket to the worst dressed family list. 

We've been tackling theme park after theme park, with mixed results.  I'm finding that I'm apparently not as big of a trooper as I thought, because the little things are really starting to bug me.  You know, like the freakishly heavy rain that comes out of nowhere.  And my children.  Hoo-boy.  Those little things are totally annoying me. 

I am however, still enjoying the chips and the margaritas.  Those are still good.  Also, the lack of schedule is working for me.

Speaking of schedule - my shin splints are gone within a few hours of my pathetic run-walk-run action, but in honor of all of your concerned comments, I stretched out well this morning, and then totally bailed on my scheduled run. (You see how I made that all about you guys?  I could have owned up to the fact that I just slept in too late, but no.  I was doing it FOR YOU, Big Slice Readers.  You are so welcome!)

Rain or shine, wind or whatever else Florida wants to throw at me, I'm going out in the morning for a 1.75 mile something.  Maybe the world's slowest jog.  Maybe just a fast walk.  Probably a bit of both. 

Oh!  And I had the yummiest Cobb Salad at the Brown Derby at the Disney-MGM park... I'm going to try to replicate it for one of my dishes next week. 

How are all of y'all doing?  Working out?  Eating well?  Catch me up on your fine selves!

Posted by Jenny at 7:17 PM | Permalink | Comments (12) | TrackBacks (0)

Oh, the lure of the Disney Plastic Poncho. I rocked it out last time, and this time, I'm topping the whole ensemble with a Disney Cowgirl hat.  Because THAT is what vacation is all about.

This vacation, thus far, has been extreme in every way.  From hot and muggy to insane rainstorms that come out of nowhere, let's just say that my hair has seen better days.  I've given up on makeup, aside from a little lip gloss. 

These vacation photos will be the best ever.  I can just tell.

We're enjoying an afternoon at the house after braving the Animal Kingdom park this morning.  It looks like a cool park, but the rain heading our way from the tropical storm hurricane hit us like a ton of bricks, soaked us despite our ponchos, and sent us dripping on our way.  We might go back for more this afternoon, because we are crazy like that. 

I stupidly ate what would have been a normal amount of food for me, pre-Fat Fallacy, and I am stuffed beyond comfort.  It is really encouraging to see how little food it takes to satisfy my actual hunger now.  I've been sticking with lighter fare - salads have been a staple.  I'm so glad that healthy (even vegetarian options besides the ubiquitous Gardenburger), inexpensive-ish meals can be found all over the parks.  I expect the heat/rain is disturbing my normal hunger pangs, but I'm really not eating much at all.  I hope that I'll come home to lower numbers on the scale.

Guess what else?  I went running on Sunday morning!  I woke my sister up at 6 o'clock, and we ran along a little path here in the resort.  It was not too hot, but I'm experiencing a lot of shin splints, so I'm being very cautious, and ended up dropping back to a walk for most of the mile and a half.  Tomorrow is my day for a mile and three-quarters.  I will at least run-walk-run-walk it.  Kim?  Do you hear me, Kim? 

I'm already plotting for next week's triumphant return and SmallSlice Menu-Album.  Get ready for some yummy summer fare. 

Posted by Jenny at 1:43 PM | Permalink | Comments (6) | TrackBacks (0)

We dragged ourselves out of bed this morning, stepped directly into our swimsuits and hit the pool.  I actually bought myself two new suits for this trip from a store that I chanced across - Avenue.  I normally hate shopping in plus-sized stores, but they had some nice stuff there.  I walked in, grabbed two suits, tried them on, they fit, I bought them.  Boom. 

Guaranteed, if I would have hit the mall, I would have been slightly hysterical and in the possession of a giant pile of unflattering suits.  I also bought a bunch of soft, comfy underpants.  I'm so all about the comfort factor - it's a good thing I'm just a naturally red-hot mama, huh?

Anyway, once in the pool, it dawned on me that 1) I had better figure out this internet connection.  Dial up.  AAAAAH. and 2) I was supposed to run a mile and a half today.  Me.  In Florida.  It's like, hot and stuff.  How is that going to work?  I'm a wuss, without my training partner.  KIM!! Go run for us both!

So, I decided to run in the pool.  That didn't work out so well.  I am sure there's a technique for doing it, and if anyone wants to enlighten me, I would be grateful.  I got bored with it, though, and decided I was going to take on the inflatable alligator.  Rrrroar.

I pulled it over to the edge of the pool, and tried to throw my leg over it.  It did a sort of half-assed death roll, and I went under.  I pushed it over to the shallow end, and tried again.  I managed to get one leg up on it, but when I did this weird little jump and tried to pull myself up onto it, it did the death-roll again, and down I went.  I like to make a splash, but this was getting ridiculous.

Perhaps, I thought, perhaps I should lay on it out of the water and sort of glide in.  I should know that I'm not exactly a gliding sort of girl. That didn't phase me, and I made my ill-fated attempt.  Here's how that went:  Lay the alligator on the pool side.  Lay on the alligator.  Huuuuuuuuughn.  The alligator is not moving.  I am still on pavement.  Huuuuuuuughn.  Nothing.  I push with my toes.  The alligator death-rolls into the pool, I bang my wrist on the side, and end up under the alligator.

What would Steve Irwin do?  What?  I know.  He would leap on it.  He'd take a running start, and jump on it and hold on to that suckah.  Yeah. 

I practiced a few times on the pool deck, and then I set that sheila into the water.  With a giant Aaargh, I took a running leap onto the back of the gator.  It held! I was on it!  For three seconds.  And then I was in the water, holding onto a rapidly deflating alligator.  I thought I popped it. 

So, I guess, in a way, I won, because it totally gave up the ghost.  But it turns out that the inflatable plug was just loose, and no permanent damage was done.  Yet. 

I'm fixin' to ride me a gator.  And tain't nothing gonna stop me.

Posted by Jenny at 10:59 AM | Permalink | Comments (7) | TrackBacks (0)

Hello!  I'm blogging to you live from sunny, muggy Orlando, FL.  I'm creaking by here with a S-L-O-W connection, and I've got a lot to share...  I might die from frustration.  Or, you know, just get over it.

Let's see, Tuesday, I ran like a good girl.  Wednesday was a day of rest for us newbie running folk.  Kim and I compared aches and pains.  Kim claimed no feeling below her waist.  Another area where she totally wins.  I could feel, and I was aching in the calves.  Numbness would have been welcome.

After our day of rest on Wednesday, and with the final day of school upon us, I wasn't excited about running. I was a little sore still, and feeling rather cranky about it. Kim called me on my wussy attitude, and we met at the park after we got the kids into class. Her two year old and my three year old were in rare form, so we attempted to turn on a movie in the van and head off.

We were about halfway through our first lap, when we noticed the kids flailing around in the van, not even remotely watching the movie. We sprinted - okay, jogged faster - to get back to the van, and settled them back down. Lap two, same deal. Lap three, we let the kids out of the van and spent plenty of energy trying to keep them from dashing into the street or feeling abandoned.  Trying to get all the way around the park before something gets destroyed or someone bails into traffic is actually a pretty good motivator. 

I never thought I would be looking forward to waking up at 5 am to run while the family sleeps.  But there is.  I'm officially mental.  I've run myself silly.  And it's only week one.

We took little stretching breaks between laps in an effort to ward off soreness. I'm sure the neighbors appreciated seeing my Big Slice panties pointing skyward in downward dog. I have already come so far from worrying about what people might think, seeing me *gasp* stretching and *gasp* working out. I finally figured out that 1) no one is looking at me anyway and 2) I'm having fun, regardless. When I stopped worrying about it, and looking around, I noticed that people are smiling at me, not laughing. I, on the other hand, am laughing at them, because I'm bent over at the waist with my butt pointed at the sky, and they are avoiding eye-contact and smiling grimly as they fetch their newspapers or climb into their cars.  Good times, people.  Good times.

The rest of the day passed by in a blur of activity. I packed and sorted and packed and packed and yes, packed.  Despite the fact that our accomodations are in a villa, complete with a private pool and a washer and dryer, I felt the need to pack every possible outfit.  Just because, you never know.  And then I went back and eliminated two outfits for each family member.  I felt like that was so smart of me.  I'm an expert! 

We left for the airport just before dinner, and arrived in good time, and good spirits.  This was a new experience for me, flying at night with the kids.  Personally, I like red-eye flights.  Less conversation from total strangers.  The kids dropped off to sleep after the first hour, and I drifted in and out of sleep for the entire flight, waking only to secure my share of the beverages and snackies.  I didn't even eat them, but I wanted to make sure that I had options. 

After we landed, and reboarded our connecting flight, we found the entire experience to be smooth and easy.  We flew on Delta airlines, and after my nightmare experience with United, they have earned a new and vocal fan.  Preboarding families (by special request - if you have a car seat) is so awesome.  Especially when said family can't figure out what seats are their seats.  Not that we had any problems with that.  No.  We're totally not guilty of that particular sin.

Although I had prepared for the kid's amusement needs on the plane by purchasing several coloring books and bringing along a portable DVD player and iPod loaded with every kids album we own, they didn't require anything but sleep.  Viva La Red Eye! 

We picked up our mini-van and waited for my husband to arrive on his flight.  After we were all reunited, we made our way to the villa.  Thank goodness Friday is a rest day in my training plan, eh?

After a quick trip to the local Winn-Dixie (I love Southern names for stores) we enjoyed fresh baguettes with soft cheese, sliced watermelon and cold beer by the pool.  A lunch of fried chicken purchased from the Winn-Dixie deli was awesome, and everyone took naps in the late afternoon.  Well, everyone except my mother, and my oldest daughter.  My poor mom managed to get my daughter to sleep finally, but never got any rest herself. Meanwhile, I was drooling merrily all over the fluffy pillow in my bed.  Bliss.

We grilled hamburgers and bratwerst for dinner, with potato salad, watermelon, green salad and vegetarian baked beans.  We all went to bed shortly thereafter, and slept like the dead.  Bliss.

Posted by Jenny at 10:15 AM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

You know what is the best thing ever?  Starting a new workout plan that insists that on the first day, you rest.  That was my yesterday.  I walked around, shooting my mouth off about how "I'm on Day One of my new training program, yes, that's right, I'm going to run a half-marathon."

Day One = REST.  Totally awesome.

Today, however, was Day Two.  The task - run 1.5 miles. 

In all my bragging yesterday, my friend Kim (Yes, Dog-Crap Analogy Kim) caught wind of what I'm up to, and insisted that she, too, is going to run a half-marathon.  Well.  That girl is always one-upping me.  First the monkey bars, and NOW the half-marathon? 

Actually, we decided to meet and run laps around the park while our two youngest played.  We figured out that we needed to run around the park path 6 times to get our distance.  It would be an exercise and play-date!  Lookie at us multitaskers! 

We decided to drive to the park, because we figured we wouldn't want to walk home after.  This was a good call - but not because we were too tired.  See, no one asked the toddlers what they would enjoy doing on a lovely Tuesday morning.  My youngest was okay with it.  Sort-of.  Kim's son barricaded himself in the van, and refused to come out and play. 

With some slight of hand, and a well-timed grab, we got him out, and brought him to the picnic bench.  Then we did some pathetic, self-conscious stretches, and I took off for my first few laps.  After the first lap, my three-year-old joined in.  She trotted just ahead of me, setting a good pace, and yelled encouragement back to me. 

"Come on, Mommy!  You can do it!"

I puffed back to the picnic bench after three laps, and Kim did her first three looking like a champ.  The kids and I stood along the walk and cheered for her as she cruised into lap three.  My daughter joined Kim on one of her laps, too.  Who needs a personal trainer?  My three-year-old is totally up for the job.

I had a solid fourth lap, and then my shins started to ache.  Knowing that I had horseback riding lessons in an hour, and I would be needing my legs, I used that as a lame (I know, it was lame) excuse not to finish my last two laps.  While I did some more awkward and self-conscious stretching, Kim trotted around the park three more times.  She kicked my hiney, man.  Again. 

While Kim made her way around the path, I corralled the two little monsters into my van for a private viewing of SpongeBob on our portable DVD player.  You know, I used to scoff at the moms with the DVD players in the car.  That's why it has windows, I said.  Kids get too much TV already, they don't need no stinkin' movies in the car, too, said I.  Then we got one for our upcoming trip and I owe lots of moms a big apology and maybe a gift certificate to NetFlix.  Best. Invention. Ever.  EVER.

Oh!  And in further Kim News - she witnessed me making it all the way across the monkey bars at the school!  I did it!  I did it!  My arms didn't fall off!  Want to know the secret? 

Here it is:  If you hang 179 pounds of woman off of two stumpy, non-callused hands, you are not going to be able to do it.  You can't just hang.  You have to start off swinging. 

So, Kim and I will meet again for a rematch on Thursday.  We've got two toddlers, six laps, and bragging rights riding on the outcome.  Provided we can even walk on Thursday.  Heh.

I'm also down one pound to 178.  This is tedious - but I think I know what the problem is.

Ready for the bad news? 

I haven't been eating hardly anything.  I haven't been cooking hardly anything.  I knew when I decided to take on Fat Fallacy as my lifestyle guide, I would have a hard time with scheduling.  But this last week and a half has kicked my sore buttocks all over  the place.

I won't eat unless I'm able to sit down and appreciate the food I'm eating.  I won't eat in the car, nor in front of the computer.  Not in front of the TV either.  I need about 30 minutes, three times a day, just for eating.  And I'm not finding it.

With the last week of school festivities in full swing, I've been galloping from one place to the next, leaving the house before 8 am and often not returning until after 5 pm.  I'm attending field trips, driving from school to stable to store to school again with no pitstops at home.  I've skipped breakfast AND lunch for the last four days.  This has resulted in really low energy and no interest in cooking a real dinner.  Add in the fact that my husband is on a business trip, and I'm preparing for a week-long vacation with the three kids and a cross-country flight, and you've got a recipe for diet disaster.

Tonight, I ate a Happy Meal.  It was gross.

I'm thinking at bare minimum, I need to eat a protein rich breakfast.  I hate to shovel the food in, but this wishful thinking that my schedule is going to miraculously allow me time to eat, while contemplating the texture and aroma of each bite, is delusional.  Especially this week, when all the planets have aligned, keeping me from having any free time.

I'm not allowing my body to get the nutrients it needs, and it's affecting my potential weight loss.  I need to find the time to eat.  I need to slow down. 

I have this weird, illogical perfectionism streak.  It tells me that I shouldn't take up exercise if I can't do it right. It tells me that I know the "right way" to eat now, and by golly, I'm going to do it that way.  I'm not giving myself the space to be flexible.  I mean, I know I don't want to mindlessly eat in the car, or shovel handfuls of cereal straight from the pantry, but to forgo eating because I can't do it "right" is crazy.  But that's what I've been doing.  And it isn't working out.

Balance.  I'm seeking balance. 

Posted by Jenny at 9:06 PM | Permalink | Comments (19) | TrackBacks (0)

I was reading Mary Tsao's ode to her tanning days yesterday.  She waxes sentimental about the smell of tanning lotion, the feel of the sun on your skin, the healthy glow of a good tan...

Now, personally, I'm a burn and peel kind of girl.  The few times I've achieved a "good" tan have been hard won, with many aloe vera smeared, red-as-a-lobster days.  Nonetheless, I find myself on the verge of a vacation, and my skin is dug-out-from-under=a-rock, hiney-white.

Yay me!  I protect my skin.  I wear SPF 10 Bazillion!  I wear broad-brimmed straw hats and long sleeves and that is all well and good when it's 70 degrees and not humid.  But I'm going to Florida, land of muggy weather.  I am going to be showing some skin.  And I gots me a lot of skin to show.

It is one of those things you hear, when you are a fat girl - tan fat looks better than white fat.  Just like bacon.  Is it true?  I'm going to err on the side of probably.

So, I can't tan the sun way, and I am inept with those self-tanners.  I wish I could afford a trip to a salon where they exfoliate and spray it on, because I figure it might turn me orange, but at least it would be an even orange. 

Funny story - I took my husband on a getaway to Monterey, California for his birthday.  Actually, he was still my boyfriend back then.  I decided to fancy myself up for cheap, and dyed myself a streaky orange for the occasion.  Despite my resemblance to an Oompa Loompa, we had a frisky, romantic weekend that resulted in my oldest daughter.  I'm a leeetle scared of a repeat performance.  I just can't trust that he'll be able to resist the tiger stripes, man. 

Anyway, enter Benefit's Jiffy Tan.  This is a tan colored gel/lotion stuff that you "lightly smooth" onto your skin, and it makes you look a pleasant brownish color.  Not dramatic, mind you.  Not orange.  It has a citrus-y smell, but not overpowering.  I bought this stuff last year, and gave it a try, and liked it, but then I kept putting it away and forgetting about it.  The best part (IMO) is that it washes off with soap and water.  No tan palms, and no fading over time.  It's on until you shower, and then you're done.  No harm, no foul.

This morning, I decided to give it a whirl.  Behold!  One leg with, one without.

Also, admire the new skort and chubby knees.  They would be so cute if I was three.  I'm just sayin'.

What do you guys think?  Natural? Weird?  Is there something else out there that I must try?  Should I just embrace my blotchy white skin? 

With the impending vacation, I'm going to skip out on the menu for this week.  I will continue to share my meals via Small Slice, but since I'm not shopping for a week's worth of food, let's just say we're going to wing it this week.  Small servings!  Eat slowly!  Yadda yadda yadda.

Posted by Jenny at 4:24 PM | Permalink | Comments (11) | TrackBacks (0)

Over on the list of challenges thrown down by readers - I've got a half-marathon listed.  Right now, that sounds laughable, because I'm not a running type of girl.  I'm soft and squishy.  I'm like a stuffed animal, not a taut, muscled road-warrior.  Heck, with my current hair cut, I can't even get all the layers back into a ponytail. 

Well, get ready for this:  my sister offered to help motivate and train with me for an upcoming half-marathon.  And I said yes.

Let's allow that to sink in for a minute.  The first thing I did was order some pink running shoes from Zappos.  Carmen just got some super-cute running shoes, and she's doing 5Ks, and she has 6 kids, so if Carmen can run, surely I can run.  Right?  If only for the pink shoes?

Here is my public declaration.  I am going to train for and run a half-marathon that will take place on October 7th.  My 34th birthday is on October 6th.  I already ran, flapping and squealing to Grace, who offered sane training tips and guidance as I give this a go.  Based on her recommendations, I'll be following her man Hal Higdon's Novice 5K training program, and if I survive that, I'll continue on with Hal's Novice Half-Marathon program.  Day One, Week One is tomorrow. 

The course my sister chose for us is insane - both in beauty and hills.  I might die in the attempt.  I will be lucky to finish in the six hour time frame.  I have visions of my bleaching bones on the side of the trail, clad in pink sneakers, empty eye sockets leering at the other participants.  Or, you know, I could actually complete the training, and complete the run, and have something to brag about as I start my mid-thirties. 

The fun starts in the morning.  I've got a run-walk planned, and, more importantly, I've got some cute new outfits to wear.  I fear they'll never make a real athlete out of me, but I'm doing this.

Oh my God.  I'm doing this.

Posted by Jenny at 2:55 PM | Permalink | Comments (6) | TrackBacks (0)

I weighed in. (Duh duh dun.)  Here we are in week four and I'm...

179.  Whoooopie. 

So, let's recap for all you newcomers who are just dropping by for the first time.  I started at 179.  I promptly gained two pounds.  181.  Sheesh.

Then!  I lost A POUND.  As in one. A single pound.  But it was "that time" of the month, so okay, I stayed away from the scale.  Until today.

I'm back where I started, folks.  That number better start going down, or I'm going to have to do something drastic.  Like, um, something.  Drastic.  Or something.

I'm trying to keep a good attitude here.  I'm cooking healthy meals for myself and my family. I've cut way down on my portions, and I'm exercising and having fun.  For example, today at my three-year-old's Orff class, I spent an hour shaking my booty with a silver streamer-clad shaker in each hand.  I stomped and jumped and twirled.  I rocked that class. 

I was doing my patented train move at one point.  It goes like this: Chugga chugga chugga chugga ding ding. I used to bust this one out when I was a toddler apparently.  You sort of groove along, moving your hands at your sides like you are running and shrugging your shoulders and then when you get to the ding ding part?  You kick out to one side.  Twice.  Once for each ding.  Oh yeah, that is some fancy stuff.  I impressed all the toddlers. I think I missed my calling as a choreographer.

I just want some instant results, and I'm not getting them, damn it.  Tomorrow morning, I'm picking up my marathon-running, opera-singing, black-belt-in-tae-kwon-shut-yo-mouth sister after I drop the two big kids at school, and we're storming the opening of the Athleta factory warehouse sale.  I'm fixin' to get some new skorts, and maybe some tank tops that wick, because I am not the delicate flower I would like to pretend, and sweat is icky. 

Oh, and people, I need some help.  I was IN LOVE with Bliss Spa's antiperspirant "Underarmy" and now it is discontinued and I want to weep giant crocodile tears.  I need a good antiperspirant, because a deodorant alone doesn't thrill me.  Help me find a good one for my sensitive underarms, I beg of you.

Let's talk for a minute about skorts.  How I love skorts!  They hide a multitude of sins.  Specifically, the sins wrought by my chubby thighs seizing the hems of any shorts I put on and inching them step by step up into my crotch.  This leaves me taking two steps and then hopping awkwardly, hoping to dislodge the bunched up fabric.  Chugga chugga chugga chugga ding ding! So not cute.

The only solution I've found is to either always wear long pants, or wear shorts and suffer.  I mean, I could wear a skirt, but (I can't believe I'm saying this, sigh) my thighs chafe if I walk too much and sweat.  That is, until I discovered the almighty skort.  My favorites have a spandex-y bike short built in under the skirt, which halts the thigh action.  But even with a regular pair of shorts underneath a skirt, who can tell you've got half a yard of fabric balled up in your bidness.   Who knows?  Who cares?  You're walking weird, but still looking jaunty because your skort has you covered. 

So I'm off on a mission for cheap skort deals, and I've been given the green light to shop in the Barbie-sized clothes to try and find some very specific cuts and colors and fabrics for my buddy Mir, who is doing the Boston 3-day pretty quick here.  Between Mir's darling, baby-sized dimensions and my petite sister, I am going to have a great time pawing through the S selections, before I wander over to the XL racks. 

I've got my camera back up and running, and I've posted the last few dinners in the Small Slice album over there to the left.  I need to step up and do some of these fitness challenges.  Which, by the way, I'm still accepting new challenges.   Leave me a comment with a double-dog-dare to do something you'd not only like to read about, but you'd love to see a photo essay on.  I'm going to start knocking these out this weekend.  Be afraid.  Be very afraid. 

I'm building a "team" of fellow diet and exercise hot mamas to have some fun.  If you want to join up, send me an email and I'll add your link.  The more the merrier!  Be sure to pop over and say hello to Mel at The Amazing Shrinking Mom - she's doing fantastic on her diet, and inspires me daily.

Posted by Jenny at 10:25 PM | Permalink | Comments (14) | TrackBacks (0)