Wombats, RIC, and Just Plain Mean

So, I came across a Facebook post/meme today.  A picture of a heavy black woman dressed in tight, rather garish attire.  A lot of spilling over and the like.  And the challenge was to describe the picture in one word.  You can imagine the words.

Ho
Crackho
Slut
Hideous
Disgusting
Vomit
Sickening
Die
Obamanation
WTF
Cellulite
Hefty
Horrible
Thick
Yuck
Welfare Ho
Ijustthrewupinmymouth

That's just a small sampling of the hundreds of responses.  Me?  I added a word to the list, too.

BULLIES.

Again, how do we stop our kids from torturing other human beings for their looks or their gender or their sexual orientation or their race when we consider this sort of cruel attack FUN?

That reminds me--there's an upcoming event in DC that's near and dear to my heart.  I don't know if we'll go, I'm not really the sign-waving political demonstration type these days, I'm more the "sway 'em with words" kind of person, but I may make an exception here.  It's important.

20th Annual March/Demonstration Against Infant Circumcision

Routine infant circumcision is down dramatically in the United States, and 18 states now refuse to cover it under Medicaid.  We are the ONLY country in the west that routinely circumcises boys for non-religious reasons, and our rate of HIV and Penile Cancer (the diseases allegedly prevented by circumcision) is markedly higher than in like countries that don't practice routine infant circumcision.  Parents who circumcise "so he'll fit in" are actually wrong--in most parts of the US, the majority of infants are now NOT circumcised.  In addition, I'm not sure taking sharp objects to a baby's genitals is a good way to handle locker-room peeping.  I don't want to get all intense here, so I'll leave it at this.  To folks who say "it's a personal decision," I say this--I agree with you.  It IS a personal decision.  So personal that I propose it be left to the owner of the genitals in question.  After all, agony and risk aside, it's the permanent altering of another human being's body for largely cosmetic purposes. It forever changes the structure and function of the body part, and not, according to reports, for the better.  That's big.  That's huge.  That needs to be a choice made by a man, not a choice made FOR him when he's too young to understand what's being proposed.

And that's all I have to say about that.  Just remember--all those "hot" Brit movie stars you think are so sexy?  Dollars to donuts, pretty much every one of them is intact.  Food for thought.

Speaking of food (see how I did that?), we're having fajitas with beans and rice for dinner.  It's so easy to make that without a zillion calories or carbs.  It's one of my "I'm starving, I need a LOT of food" meals that doesn't break the calorie or carb bank.  We use Kontos Lavash instead of tortillas because the calories and carbs are lower than most tortillas (and the taste quite nice), fat-free sour cream, and weigh the chicken.  A lot of onions and bell peppers, too.  We mix in peppers and just a little bit of corn with the low sodium black beans.  We give a nod to processed food by having Uncle Ben's Spanish Rice.  One package is two decent-sized servings, and it does the job nicely.  Dessert will probably just be a banana.  I'm not in the mood for more, I don't think.

My WiFi has been punking off lately.  Not enough to keep me offline, just enough to be really, really irritating.  Normally, just clicking on the little red X runs it through some hoops and brings it back, but yesterday there was no joy, so I clicked on "Troubleshoot."  Only to be met with the admonition that I would need an INTERNET CONNECTION to continue.  That's right, the only way to troubleshoot my lack of an internet connection is to ACCESS THE INTERNET.

Thanks, Verizon.  Love you.

To be fair, I DO mostly like Verizon.  Except when the bill comes due every month.  Three cell phones, one tablet, cable, landline, and WiFi/internet?   Wowser.  The tablet's contract is up this month, and we'll be letting it scroll off and use it solely WiFi.  That'll knock 45 bucks or so off the bill.

 So, our boy, who takes interminable baths, was dragging another one out to two hours or so yesterday.  When I finally shouted up the stairs, he called back, "I'm drying off!"

Half an hour later, still no boy.  I moved to give another shout, and hubby said, "He said he was drying off."  I said, "That was half an hour ago!"  And hubby's response?

"Maybe he's really, really wet."

If I take a superbly luxurious bath, I might take 30 minutes, tops.  Hubby?  I've known him to hide in that tub for 4+ hours, just letting out the cooling water and adding more warm as the time ticks away.  It's amazing to me, but it's no mystery where our boy gets his mad bathing skills from.

Now, you see that sentence up there?  The " . . . it's no mystery where our boy gets his mad bathing skills from"  bit?  Help me out--I wanted to write that " . . . it's no mystery from where our boy gets his mad bathing skills."  In fact, what I really wanted to write was, ". . . it's no mystery whence our boy gets his mad bathing skills."  Am I the only person here who actually agonizes over things like that?

Am I geek?  A grammar wonk?

Oh, oh!  I forgot, I found something!  And I'm a bit upset, actually.  Why didn't anyone ever tell me how incredibly cute WOMBATS are!  Holy cow, they're adorable!  I want three!

Here--have a wombat.  A wombat named Douglas, in fact:




Do not reprint without permission. © KAQ

Messy Day Gone Better

So, we had decided to cancel my phone once the contract period was up.  Good way to save 50 bucks a month.  After all, I don't often use it, and it seems silly to keep it.  No, I don't WANT to cancel it, but we need to save cash where we can.

So, hubby warns me that my Christmas is coming, and that I'll need to sign for it but not even look at it a little bit.  No checking the return address, nothing.  He says it's coming tomorrow.  Okay, I agree.  I won't look.  I plan on warning our boy not to look, either.

Except it came today.  And we are expecting other things.  Our boy opened it.  And found two brand new Droid Razrs.  Hubby decided me without a phone isn't good, and we'll just let the Galaxy Tab's contract expire in March instead.  Which makes sense--the Tab will still function perfectly well on WiFi without a contract.  But now the surprise is ruined, and, while he's not upset, it is sort of a bummer for him because they're the only gifts he got us that were surprises.  I flat-out bullshat our boy, told him the phones are for his father and me, and that he'll get his father's old phone.  So at least he can be surprised a little, right?

Also, hubby got me the 2012 White House Ornament.  William Howard Taft and the first motorized transportation at the White House.  It's a lovely ornament that I had decided not to get because I didn't want to drop the cash.  Turns out you can get a discount by buying bulk, and a bunch of his coworkers went in with him for a bunch of them.  It's gorgeous!

2012 White House Ornament--flip it over, and you see Mrs. Taft!

Anyway, back to the home front.  The new, stronger lice concoction didn't work, just like I knew it wouldn't.  Just like I tried to tell the doc's office it wouldn't.  Found  a live one on my boy two days post-treatment. None on me yet.  We're lice-combing (isn't that a county in Pennsylvania?) and nit-picking every other day.  And that's almost certainly the way we're going to wind up getting rid of them.  I'm also baking our heads with the blow dryer, which is supposed to be helpful.  Considering getting a bonnet-type dryer, which isn't as effective as a hand-held, but is also a lot easier on the shoulders and back.  Yeah, long-term investment in lice treatment.  Sounds like I've resigned myself to this, doesn't it?

I've been really good on the diet, though I'm planning to screw up today.  Had yogurt and granola for breakfast, and I'm about to demolish some mac-a-chee for lunch.  But I feel in control, like I've managed to flip that switch back on.  Today, I have mac-a-chee, tomorrow back to it without feeling bad about today.  Past four days have been under 1500 calories (with Monday only 1180), so I'm feeling positive. 

We headed out to the Bull Run Festival of Lights last night.  It was very nice, and the difference between it and the similar display they hold in Willard, Utah was clear.  The Utah display has a lot of cowboys and old west themes, whereas the only horse we spotted at the Bull Run Festival was part of a fox hunting party.  Overall, the Bull Run was better, though the Willard will always have a special place in my heart. 

Speaking of Christmas, I ordered 30 custom Christmas cards this year, and used every last one of them.  If I've forgotten anyone, I guess I'll have to drag out one of the old cards from last year.  Guess next year we'll order 40, huh?

Back in the Saddle Again

Well, that's it--I've fired up the MyFitnessPal again and started keeping track-even if I go over.  That's what worked for me just last year--not just keeping track on the days I was "good," but keeping track no matter what, with brutal honesty.  Today I'm over by 187 calories, and that's going to be okay.  So long as I kept track. 

That really was the trick--I lost 180 + lbs just doing that--keeping track.  But then I stopped losing, even though I was keeping track, even though I was still exercising.  It wasn't the first plateau I'd hit, but it was the one that brought me down.  To my credit, it took almost five months of not losing anything for me to start slipping.  I kept telling myself that the loss didn't matter, it's about being healthy.  And while that SHOULD be true, fact is, it's both, because I still FEEL really good, but I've gained back fifty pounds.  I can still walk four hours at Mt. Vernon or hike up a steep hillside at Ft. Washington and not have my back scream and cry at me.  But it's going to.  If I keep this up, I'm going to wind up housebound again, just like I was. 

The back pain, while absolutely exacerbated by weight, was a problem even when I was thin.  In fact, at 130 lbs, it nearly trapped me in the Grand Canyon after a day hike most of the way in.  It's the result of a series of back injuries when I was a kid, culminating in a spectacular car accident in 1993 that blasted out disks and shredded muscle and tendons.  So the back is a disaster no matter what, but it's a more debilitating disaster the heavier I am.  Before I started losing weight, I was seriously considering a wheel chair.  Making it from the apartment door to the car (about 100 yards) was devastating to me.  I was breathless, and the pain in my back, hip, and into the right leg was so bad I wasn't really even walking--I was just soldiering through and throwing that leg forward. 

And then I wasn't.  Then I was spending five or six hours on my feet, walking through DC, checking out museums, strolling from monument to monument, or hiking around all day in Rock Creek Park.  Suddenly I was able to be the mom to my son I had always wanted to be.

And now I'm blowing that all to hell.  I feel like the poor guy from "Flowers for Algernon." 

No way.  That cannot happen.  But it is.  The other night, my feet blew up like balloons.  Not as bad as they used to, but there it was.  Yeah, I'd had a lot of sodium.  That needs to stop, too.

So today, I keep track.  Today, I am mindful of what I'm putting in my mouth.  Even if it doesn't stop me from doing it, I am mindful.  I will keep track. 

And tomorrow?  I will do the same