Weight Loss Wednesday

Oh Wednesdays, how you creep up on me so quickly.  This week I barely lost two pounds.  I say barely because Tuesday night I was not optimistic about my morning weigh-in.  I had made French Bread Pizza for dinner that night, which has the trifecta of dieters cardinal sins involved...light and airy melt in your mouth bread, salty hot mozzarella, and spicy greasy pepperoni.  I did work my butt off working out though.  So maybe it offset my transgression.

I added P90X's Core Synergistics to my regimen and let me tell you...it bludgeoned my motherly ab muscles to death.  I am still sore from Monday.  I'm still dancing and powering up these bench hills around here.  Hopefully we'll get some warmer weather soon and I might...I repeat might begin to ease into some jogging.  Jogging, how I loathe thee.

Last Friday I took the girls swimming at our local indoor pool.  In the locker room I discovered I forgot my cover-up bottoms.  What to do?  Expose everyone to a heaping helping of cottage cheese thigh and a nasty scar from my most recent dog bite from a few years back or try to stay on the sidelines with Brielle while Ava swam?  Well, I set my pride aside and put on my granny swimsuit and marched my thick thighs out for the world to see...er the ten or so people in the pool.

We stayed in for two hours and had a blast!  Ava and I took turns pretending to be sharks and chased each other.  Brielle initially grumbled about her constrictive life vest, but settled into clinging to my side while drifting in and out of sleep.  She had missed her nap.  I guess all the bob, bob, bobbing along made her drowsy.  May I just interject one thing here...is locker room nudity fully acceptable now?  Back in the day we changed in the bathrooms or figured out a sneaky way to put on our underwear beneath our t-shirts.  Every lady that walked into the locker room stripped down with nary an embarrassed glance my way.  I tried not to look, but good grief where do I put my eyes when they are changing less than three feet away from me?  That is all.  I'm sure I must have an old-fashioned sense of propriety.  That or public nudity freaks me out.  Ava said to me later, "There was a lot of naked ladies in there, Mom."  Yeah, tell me about it.

While we're on the subject of clothing, or lack thereof I have noticed an alarming trend.  We were into Nordstrom Rack today browsing the bow-ties for my husband.  I know, right?  Bow-ties.  I've got to hand it to him though, that man looks good in anything.  If I do say so myself.  Anyway I spied two well dressed women leisurely perusing the the racks of clothing in vests that looked like they had been made from some very groovy shag carpet from the sixties.  They reminded me of Chewbacca.  I panicked a bit thinking that some psychotic Silence of the Lambs character had found a nest of Wookiees somewhere in the Amazon and had sliced them and diced them all in the name of these incredibly ugly vests.  We women devote our lives to being nearly hair free, and here these women are pairing their cute Tommy Hilfiger button ups with a nasty layering of highland cattle sheared vests.  What gives?  Do you want to know what it feels like to be Robin Williams in his birthday suit?  Are you eager for people to wonder how many long haired animals you keep indoors?  That vest looks like a family of Orangutans have taken up permanent residence on your sofa and you sat down for a couple of hours to watch television and when you got up your vest was completely covered in their many months of Orangutan sheddings.  I don't know.  I don't get it.  But then again I have confessed my love for a particular electric blue shoe known for their abhorrent ugliness.  So what do I know?  Still, no thank you 2012...you can keep your hairy vests to yourself.

More Pringles!  More Golden Girls!  We're never leaving this sofa!!!

Well, that's what I've been thinking about lately.  The state of the apparently free-wheeling locker room and the hairy vests walking around town.  Chewbacca called, he wants his mom back.

Lady!  Yes, you.  The one in the Wookiee vest.  That's my mom you're wearing!

With Valentines Day nearly upon us I need all of your to pray for my sweet tooth.  Gosh-dang you, Conversation Hearts, gosh-dang you all to heck!