Fast, Cheap, and Easy

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Aug 152010

While the rest of the world was knocked off their BlogHer high with the immediate onslaught of screaming kids and loads of laundry that refuse to take care of themselves, I am still navigating the perilous role of The Visitor. It’s a strange place to be, especially since, until a little over a year ago, I lived my entire life within a 20 mile radius.

To say I wasn’t prepared for the mind-numbing politics that go hand in hand with the Who We Actually Make Time For in the 12 day period available to us for our hell-cation would be an understatement. There’s his side, my side, his friends, my friends, and the friends who I totally didn’t miss but feel obligated to make time for anyway. There are late nights (combined with too much sugar and the new toothpaste I stupidly purchased which is yet to be used) for Buttercup, early mornings for me and The Husband, and an ongoing game of Tug of War for our presence in a rapidly dwindling window of time.

Don’t get me wrong…we are having fun. It’s hard not to have a good time when distance and time haven’t stopped me from slipping right back into private jokes and secret punch lines with the friends who will be friends no matter the actual distance between us. But I do have to admit that there have been multiple days when I have wished multiple times that Aunt Becky had decided to go with Mommy Wants Vicodin for her twitter handle so I could change my identity to reflect my current state of mind.

I also feel it’s very important to point out that I, in fact, have eaten my willpower. I didn’t just choose a random photo to fill white space. Instead, I avoided the weird looks from store employees while snapping a few photos of clever aprons because they basically summed up which side of the bed I have been waking up on since landing in Michigan for the second time in less than two weeks.

I’m clean-eating. Or rather, I was until this whole little adventure began. And I totally thought I’d be faithful to my new eating habits while hanging in NYC with TBFF Juliette and schmoozing with my new bloggy buddies. That was before total exhaustion hit and I decided that I just didn’t give a damn anymore. Had it just been those 4 days, I would have been fine. It’s a vacation, right? A chance to let go, have fun, and eat a slice of pizza so good that there was a line out the door long after the sun had gone down?

But by the time I return to Tucson, I will have been gone for 17 days. And because PCOS, Insulin Resistance, and all the other fun little things wrong with me that make being fat so easy it should really be a hell of a good time have probably allowed my body to gain a sickening amount of weight in an amusingly short amount of time, I am perfectly aware that the Fettucini Alfredo eaten at Tio’s today or the Kickass Local Pizza we’ll be chowing on tomorrow with friends are really going to fuck screw with my plans for reinstating my MILF card sooner rather than later.

So what exactly am I doing to myself here? Am I allowing myself to enjoy my vacation or making my trip back to reality (and what The Husband likes to refer to as rabbit food) that much more of a pain in the ass? I’m gonn go out on a limb here and say it’s a Laugh and  Point because It’s Me and not You twisted little combination of both possibilities.

Until then, I’m fast, cheap, and easy.

No Room for Good Intentions

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Aug 102010

You may recall that I may have mentioned something about possibly squeezing in a workout during the Craziness For Which I Was Not Prepared at BlogHer.

And, like, i totally meant to! I really did. I even packed gym shoes and workout clothes in that practically empty suitcase the day before heading out to New York. I really totally meant to when I saw Mamavation Queen Leah in person for the first time at The People’s Party and realized how absolutely adorable she is in person. I may have even told her that I was going to make good on last week’s blog post and sweat my booty off BlogHer style. She said something about thinking I was adorable, too, and I walked away hoping to got she was drinking enough to forget about my promise to be good and motivated.

I may have been able to make it to the gym during expo hall hours, but that would have meant that I missed out on chasing down Elmo like a mother posessed for a chance at a photo and solidifying my place as the Best Mother in the World upon my triumphant return home with this photographic tropy. And really, I’m thinking you would have done the same in my position.

Normally, I’m just getting revved up when the rest of the world is starting to relax for the evening. I get my best work done at night and as soon as Buttercup is asleep for the night, I’m ready to write, blog, clean house, and find a way to get a good work out in between 9 p.m. and midnight. Of course, my suitcase didn’t have any room let over for good intentions, what with all that swag, and all, so I spent my evenings in New York fan-girling with the best of them while acosting innocent little Bloggesses like Jenny just because she was sweet enough to punch out poetry for her minions while The Voices of the Year Gala raged on a few rooms over. Luckily, I convinced Her Blogessness to drop the stalker charges with promises of self-mockery and photos of my pretty up-do un-done in its Mexi-fro glory for the world to see. (You know, because it wasn’t embarassing enough the first time around Stay tuned on round 2. It’s coming.)

I did have a few hours in the afternoon when I could have stolen away and gotten myself good and sweaty, but I spent that little segment of time in a shuttle and at a luncheon at BLT Fish where I had my Yo Gabba Gabba moment when I was presented with a plate of fish. It was either eat the salmon and tuna I’d been avoiding since I was pregnant and my taste buds mutinied on me (Try it! You’ll like it!) or starve while I learned about the importance of seafood intake during pregnancy (ironic, I know). So I dined on this…

 

and I actually liked it. DJ Lance would be so proud.

And I’m plenty sure I could have made time to work out to my heart’s content while traipsing around the big city in an attempt to keep up with my TBFF, writing partner, and roomate, Juliette, on her multiple mad dashes to see Time’s Square and shop at Macy’s and take a bike taxi and get whiplash in a taxi. But well, by that time I had whiplash and how smart would it have been to work out?

So I had pizza instead before getting my minimum 2 hours of sleep before hopping on a plane away from the crazy and back to the slightly less (but not much less) crazy that I’m like, totally used to.

The Aftermath

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Aug 092010

While the title might have led you to belive this was going to be a blog post about BlogHer10, it was written two weeks ago and cut and pasted into my files so I could look smart and update the blog whileI was living it up in NYC.

As you can see, I kinda fell off the grid when The Big Apple kicked my ass. (It also doesn’t help that instead of flying home and recovering in my own bed, I’m trying to stay sane after flying into Detroit to hang with the family for two weeks. I can’t say “blog” too loud without being offered a tissue.)

So until I get my head squared back on my shoulders, have fun with more elevator music. I’m off to pretend I don’t care Buttercup is watching Burn Notice with her daddy.

My sister couldn’t believe that this meal…

…caused this mess. And frankly, neither could I. There was a super yum black bean burger and some surprisingly tasty smashed potatoes on my plate (recipes from Tosca Reno’s Eat Clean Diet, Recharged) and I seriously enjoyed every single bite. But I couldn’t help but laugh at the mountain of dishes in my sink.

Back in the day when I didn’t give a damn and nuked prepacked food more often than I bought fresh, dishes were not a major concern. It’s not much work to throw away a cardboard box and wash off a fork, now is it? But boiling potatoes and parsnip and steaming cauliflower? Then straining all of it in a colander? And smashing it all up in another bowl? And don’t even get me started on the bean burger. I’ve made them a few times already and already know this is a new staple recipe for me, but holy hell, people.

Eating clean and healthy isn’t exactly a dishwasher’s dream come true.

(But it is totally worth the mess.)

**This post originally appeared on Bookieboo!

Holding out

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Jul 142010

I recently read a BlogHer post by Renee J. Ross that got me thinking. She talks in depth about her public weight loss, the struggle, and the light at the end of the tunnel. She’s successfully lost quite a bit of weight and I applaud her.

She’s not the only one. There are countless women I could name, including Leah Segedie, Bookieboo.com founder and Mamavation Grand Mistress (that’s my title for her). The site and twitter hashtag are a source of support for moms trying to get fit and Leah is a great example. She’s lost a crazy amount of weight and uses her story to inspire others.

So where’s that leave me? Not on the winning side of the scale, but that’s a different blog post. Or maybe a chapter in my book.

And therein lies the dilema.

I started the blog the same day I started my book. I’ve wanted to write a book for an insanely long time and have had plenty of time to research the ins and outs of going about the business that comes with getting that dream off the ground. And I went in knowing that traditional publishers aren’t exactly going to do the happy dance when/if they get to reading your manuscript and find the entire thing plastered all over your blog.

So the plan from the beginning was to make the book the story of my weight loss attempt journey and the blog my mama-writer journey. I put a few snippets up here and there—little bits of the book—to give you an idea of what isn’t going on the blog, but for the most part I am doing my damnedest to make sure I don’t make my life harder whenever I get to the agent/editor/publisher portion of this little pipe dream.

Now, if this had gone another way and I had just started a blog first, gotten the attention of an agent, and had the Great Oz make all the rest of my dreams come true, too, this all may have gone a bit differently. I might be sharing more on Bookieboo. I might have gotten past the “Should I or Shouldn’t I?” and tried to win a spot in her Mamavation campaign. I may have vlogged more about my results for more accountability. I may have reached out for more support.

I maybe should have lost the weight first. And then written the book.

But then I remind myself that my goal from the beginning wasn’t to flash a number at The End and call it a day. It was to reach out, connect, and show anyone who picks up the finished product that success on the scale isn’t the only prize to be sought. Yes, it is an important goal. And one that we should continue to strive for. But the continuing to try part? Despite the craziness and obligations of motherhood? The getting up every morning after a hellacious day before and a hellacious day to come? I want moms to read my book and know that trying is a reason enough to feel good about themselves.

I know I could share more. But I really shouldn’t. And it’s not that I’m holding out. I’m just saving the juicy bits for the book.

And I can say that on my blog without blurring too many lines.

So I will.

What writing a book has taught me: Part 1

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Jul 082010

I’m not done yet. But I’m almost there. And I’ve learned a thing or 10 since I sat down with The Great Plan to write A Memoir.

1) What I planned and what I have are two different things.

2) But that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

3) Honesty doesn’t have to be camoflauged in humor.

4) Honesty makes the humor that much more relatable.

5) I write like I speak.

6) Which means the book wouldn’t ring true if I didn’t use the word “fuck” every now and then.

7) Sharing with strangers is easier than sharing with people I Actually Know because…

8 ) A stranger’s judgment comes without consequence and…

9) I may change my name and move to Bali when (and yes, I said when) gets published because…

10) I’m really not looking forward to the size of my ass becoming the topic of conversation at the next family gathering.

11) But I’m ready for my Manic Mommies interview. Oprah is so last year. Unless she decides to keep her show on the air and calls my future agent begging for me to take a seat on that famous couch of hers. Then I’m all about Oprah. Oh yes. My public awaits.

12) There is a story to be told in every moment.

13) Sometimes those moments move faster than the words can flow.

14) Related: Twitter is a great substitute for post-it note reminders. Tweet, favorite, refer to later.

15) It’s easy to compare myself to other writers and think I’m crazy for writing my book. I’m not them! I didn’t say that like they did! But that’s okay because…

16) That’s because I’m telling my story. In my voice.

17) Sleep is over-rated.

18) Typos are the bane of my existence.

19) Proposals and queries are not the root of all evil. Cellulite is. And that friction that comes from my inner thighs rubbing together when I forget to tug on the Spanx when I’m wearing a dress?

20) Mama can put herself first. The dishes will patiently wait till morning. So will the laundry. The child? Yeah…she needs to eat.

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