Chocolate Update

Not that anyone cares I'm sure, but it has been one week since my last chocolate indulgence!! And whew, has it been hard! Everywhere I turn there is chocolate, I never really considered it too much.
When I started this prohibition, my main thought was that I needed to stop eating chocolate mostly because of the mass amount of Kisses, chocolate candies, and squares (ok, bars) I'd been eating. I never stopped to think about how many other things in my pantry contain chocolate.
We've been buying the granola bars made by Kashi. Of course, many of them have dark chocolate in them in some form or another. There is one type in particular that I quite enjoy, called Dark Chocolate Coconut. They have a type of icing on the top of the bar, that isn't actually real icing, just a fudgey-gooey-rich goodness made by combining date paste and dark chocolate. So it's healthy, right?
Alas, it is still chocolate.
We actually have many types of granola bars in our cupboard. Peanut-free ones for school (and DH), and many with nuts that both the boys and I love (thank goodness they didn't inherit that particular allergy!). But almost all of them have chocolate!
Then there is the hot chocolate. I was craving a hot drink the other day, not in the mood for tea for once and that is when I usually go for a hot chocolate. I had to stay my hand as it reached into the cabinet for the powder. I almost forgot!
I baked banana bread on the weekend. L begged me to put chocolate chips in it. I said, "But I gave up chocolate, remember?"
His reply was, "But we didn't!"
"But then I can't have any," I said, ignoring his 6-year-old selfishness.
"Just put them in half then!" he reasoned.
Umm, sorry, no, doesn't work that way.
But I'm managing.
I still have to deal with my sweet cravings. For that I bought myself some Golden Oreos, and Golden Oreo Cakesters. Is that any better, or is it worse?
Probably worse, as dark chocolate actually does have some health benefits, whereas I'm sure Oreos do not. However, I don't tend to binge on said Oreos like I would if they were Hershey's Dark Chocolate, or Reese's Peanut Butter Cups.
So for now I will try to stick to my committment, and if I can break this addiction, I will move onto tackling my sweet tooth next!

Kid Quips

Here was my funny moment of the week. It was hilarious at the time, however I think it always loses a bit of it's hilarity when I try to recount it. I guess you need to be there, or really know and appreciate the kids. Anyhow, hopefully this gives you a bit of a giggle, if not a guffaw.
Some background info;
Ethan - 3.5 years, going on 35, amazing language skills (he's been speaking in full sentences since before he was two), stubborn as heck and a little precocious at times but cracks me up all the time!
Kendra - almost 2, limited language skills, probably in the 80th percentile or so for height and weight, typical toddler in attitude and actions.
I was changing Kendra's diaper after lunch and before her nap. For this, she was standing on the change table, pants down, shirt hiked up, belly and bits all exposed. Ethan was using the sink to wash up after lunch. We were having a conversation about who was bigger, as I had exclaimed with a grunt that Kendra was getting very heavy when I had lifted her up onto the table. Ethan, being a little on the short side, is a bit defensive about his size, and will use any opportunity to make his "real" size known.
So naturally, he claimed fervently, "I'm bigger and I weigh more than Kendra, though."
Of course I had to set him straight.
"But she's catching up to you quickly. She's pretty much as tall as you are now, and I think she's just as heavy. Just look at her big belly," I said, tickling it. (You have to picture the big full round toddler belly, especially after lunch!)
Ethan, turned around from the sink to look, his eyes as big as saucers, "Wow! She's almost pregnant!!"
Oh My Goodness but didn't I laugh soooo hard at that!

I'm An Auntie Again!

Just a quick post to share my joy at being an aunt again. My niece, A., was born yesterday around 3 p.m. at 6lbs, 9oz. I'm so excited and happy for my sister and her husband! I also cannot wait to meet this new little person. Unfortunately, due to the fact that #1 - I live an hour's drive away from the hospital (that factor combined with the fact that I am not free to leave my house until all the "other" kids have gone home, around 5 pm) and #2 - yesterday after a winter that has been fairly mild by our standards, it decided to storm like a bugger, I have to wait now until the weekend to see her. Sigh. Oh well, it's not like I'm not used to it by now, after all, I did choose to live here (and I do love it) so I have to make sacrifices.

The pictures I posted aren't the best, I know, because they were sent to me from my dad's iPhone, but they're all I have, and they are definitely better quality than the ones I tried to steal from my other sister's Facebook page. And yeah, they're typical red-faced-scrunched-up-puffy-eyed newborn pictures, but she's still pretty cute! And if she's anything like her mommy was as a little kid, she's going to be completely adorable (and spoiled)!!

Chocolate Part II

Ok, I am officially swearing off chocolate. At least for the next six weeks or so, however long Lent is.
Now, I am not a religious person. The only time I go to church is for christenings and weddings. But I like the idea of Lent. And it serves a purpose right now.
I am actually scared a little that I am truly addicted to chocolate. This past month was the worst. I ended up buying a bag of Reeses Peanut butter hearts for MYSELF for Valentine's Day. How sad is that? I know my hormones haven't been very normal these past few months with being off the pill, but can i really blame hormones for chocolate cravings? Seriously? Because the two seem directly related, and I know that I have been eating way more chocolate over the past three months than i normally do.
So that's it, that's all. I ate up the rest of the bag today (and feel quite ill about it consequently) and after today, NO MORE.
The first few days will be tough, I know. It means no chocolate in whatever form. I'm not sure if I can be this strong.
Chocolate, I am breaking up with you. You're not good for me. So this is the end.
And don't call me.

Who Says Video Games Stifle Creativity?

Right now I am sitting here on the couch with a headache that is threatening to become a migraine if I try to do too much. At least that's my excuse. And I can hear the boys upstairs playing "Batman".
This weekend, I rented the Lego Batman video game for the Wii, knowing that we didn't have much planned for this long weekend (we have Family Day, a holiday, today here in Canada). This morning I woke up to the boys showing me how they had used their Lego to build their own Batman characters (very well done, I might add) and now they are role-playing Batman, even though aside from one half-hour cartoon movie we own, they have never seen the movies.
It makes me happy that they are playing this way, as sometimes I wonder about my decision to let video games into our lives. I do find that sometimes a prohibition on the DS is needed for R for a week or so, to reboot his system in a way. He tends to turn to it more and more for entertainment, and when I tell him no more, he listens but lays around listlessly moping and complaining of boredom. An enforced week off or so usually does the trick to get him back to playing more with his brother, and not being so addicted.

Under The Category Of "I'm Gettin' Too Old For This Sh*t"

I thought up the title for this blog while having a small cardiac infarction riding the chairlift Sat morning.
Ok, not really (the C.I.) but I felt like I was going to have one. And many thoughts were running through my mind at the time like, "Just what the HELL was I thinking??" and, "Will they let me ride this back to the bottom?"
You see, I decided that after a mere 10 or so years, that I should try skiing again. On top of that, I decided to take R with me. Now, I'm not so deluded as to think that I should be the one to teach him (my kids don't do well when I'm trying to teach them something, it seems; we ALL end up very frustrated! However, I did teach them both to ride a bike, so it's not all bad!), he had a "discover skiing" package lesson for 75 mins which seemed to do the trick just fine.
So while R was out discovering the joys of strapping fiberglass planks to your feet and trying to manoevour safely down a snow-and-ice-covered hill, I decided to brush up on my stellar skiing skills on my own.
Hence, me, riding up the chairlift and trying not to alarm the other passengers with my heavy sweating and rapid breathing.
At first, I thought maybe my fear was stemming from the fact that I wasn't sure how I was going to get back down the damn hill if my body failed to remember how to keep me from tumbling head over heels like the idiot that I am. But on reflection, I was pretty confident that I could at least master the easy hill and that I would surely remember how to snowplow if all else failed. So then why oh why was I so nervous? Glancing down I suddenly realized, that's right! I'm scared of heights! How could I have forgotten my phobia that seems to have developed and worsened over the past decade?
Shit!
Shit!
Ok, deep, calm breaths and hold on tight.
Oh, yeah, and don't look down!
After about a year five minutes we came to the top, I took a deep breath of relief and lo and behold I eased myself off the chair with grace! It seems I did remember some things after all! On to the next stage...
I managed to get down the first small hill leading to the top of the cliff face the "easy" hill they referred to as "Family". Taking another deep breath I psyched myself up.
Ok, I can do this. Just go slow. Lots of snowplowing.
And don't die.
Tears pricked my eyes; either from the cold wind, or the fact that I suddenly realized that I was going to be leaving my poor child all alone when I crashed and lost consciousness. Why oh why didn't I rent the stupid helmet?
Three year olds whooshed past me, giggling in delight and probably muttering under their breath about the old person with apparent dementia standing at the top of the hill looking lost.
Who, me?
Ok, I can do this. Just go slow. Blah, blah, blah. If they can do it, so can I.
About a third of the way down the hill, I was doing fine. I probably looked completely uncoordinated and ungainly, but I was still alive! However, my knees!
Oh, my knees how they ached! They were burning!
I don't remember this! This is a new kind of pain enjoyed while skiing. Maybe I am getting too old for this!
I was never so relieved to reach the bottom before. But like the glutton for punishment that I am, I got right back into the chairlift lineup. It was starting to all come back to me now. The thrill of conquering the hill while remaining conscious, the adrenaline rush, if you will.
By the third run I was right back to where I was (skill-wise) when I last skiied, a lifetime ago. And R loved his lesson, loved the whole experience. He has caught the skiing bug, as I did so many years ago, and wants to go again.
I think I've started an expensive obsession!
And guess what? I'm not even hurting that much, so I guess, after all, I'm NOT too old for this shit!!

Skewed Self-Image

I think most women will agree when I say that we all hate our bodies. Especially our bodies after childbirth. If you are one of those who actually is happy with the body you have, good for you! And I am jealous.
I don't think I have ever truly loved my body. There has always been something I wish I could change. When I was younger, it was my hair. As I got older, it was my boobs (too small) and my legs (ugly shape, practically bowlegged, terribly unsexy). Of course those things remain the same, but now I have a new appreciation for the body I had.
I look at pictures of myself back then, and I think, "How could I have not liked myself?" In comparison to now, I was hot! Ok, well, maybe not hot, but good enough.
My boobs now are still too small, but at least back then they were perky. Thank you breastfeeding. I won't leave you with any pictures, but think National Geographic.
My legs are still a terrible shape (why, oh why, couldn't I have inherited my mother's legs??), but at least they were slim back then and not covered in unsightly (and quite frankly scary) varicose veins. Thank you Dad. And Mom actually. Of all the things to inherit.
At least now they make better hair care products than they did back then. I have learned how to tame my mane, but I still wish for less frizzy and much straighter hair.
I look back at pictures of myself and remember I thought that my tummy needed some trimming. If I could only have looked into the future! After R, I knew that my tummy needed trimming, but by his first birthday I was almost back to my pre-pregnancy weight. I was more unhappy with myself then.
After L, I gained a little more weight. And then a little more. I now look back on those pictures of when R was little and think, "I wish I at least looked like that!" Now I would REALLY like to lose 10 pounds. That would put me back to pre-R. Not college pre-R, just before R. And I'd be ok with that.
There are things I've come to accept. Like, I'll NEVER be able to wear a bikini again. *sniff* I know that even if I worked out hard and did 500 crunches everyday, my stomach will still be covered in stretch marks, loose skin, and a totally messed up belly-button.
And I can't change the shape of my bones in my legs. Nor do I have the desire to undergo surgery to remove all the ugly protruding veins.
I also do not have the desire to have a boob job. Nor the money. But that's what all these fantastic push-up and padded bras are for!
I gain and lose 2 or 3 pounds over the course of a week or so all the time. I could never be one of those people to celebrate the loss of that little amount of weight, because it happens all the time. Some days, on my "skinnier" days, I'll feel like I'm not so bad hiding under all my clothes.
And then the clothes come off.
And I stare at myself in the mirror.
And I lament.
It's funny how you think your body image leaves more to be desired and then ten years down the road you finally see your old self clearly, but probably not your now self. Because in another ten years you'll look back and think you were not as bad as you are now.
So maybe I should just be happy for what I am now because in ten years I'll be ten pounds heavier, more grey, and definitely more wrinklier.
Gah.