blessings.

Last night Tim had class at the local community college at 4:45. This had me thinking: DATE NIGHT! I figured I could take Tessa to Grammy and Grandpa's (Tim's parents) house for the night and pick Timbo up from class and whisk him off to a yummy dinner and then have some alone time together at home. We never go out on dates. There simply isn't time. Tim works Friday-Tuesday midnight (Thursday night) to 8am. His off days (and morning after work) are most often (always) spent doing homework. To be perfectly honest, we hardly have any family time, let alone couple time. So I figured this would be a great idea. Then Tim dropped the bomb on me right before he left for school: "I haven't done any homework yet." Oh, lovely. This sparked an argument about how I wanted alone time with him for once and he said if I had helped him with his homework, we wouldn't be in this situation. Wait, what?! 


I asked him how I am supposed to watch & wrangle Tessa, make dinner, clean, and help him with his homework all at the same time. "Well, your job isn't hard," he says. Okay, ladies, back me up on this: being a full time mother and wife IS hard. Once you throw in the 8 thousand responsibilities that our children and husbands expect us to handle, our days are pretty full. I make dinner between 5 and 6 nights per week. I am also the one that does the dishes, cleans the kitchen, bathes the Monkey, and puts her to bed. Every. Night. Especially since Tim is usually sleeping during dinner. I make all three meals and clean after every single one of them. I feel like I'm constantly on the move and now I'm supposed to do his homework, too? Drown me in even more responsibility, why dontcha? It's not that I don't want to help him, it's that he wants help on his schedule, not taking in to account the fact that I'm busy and I can't put Tessa on a leash and muzzle her when he's ready. 


Needless to say, I was not impressed. But even so, I packed up the nights supplies and toted Tessa off to Grammy & Grandpa's. We ended up going over to Tim's Aunt Selma & Uncle Jay's house and Tessa had an amazing time playing with Jenny, who is seven. A six year age difference meant nothing. They had a great time playing with dolls, a toy keyboard, and dancing together. Here is a picture of them dancing together. Please try to ignore the awful IPhone, bad lighting quality.

Once we got back to the house, we put Tessa to bed and I came home to find that Tim had finished 90% of his 4 page paper. That meant at 10:30 we were heading to BJs for dinner and drinks! Yay! Tim had a few beers and the biggest hamburger I have ever seen. It was seriously bigger than his mouth. He had to smash it down. Like, a lot. I had a yummy margarita and a quite dry pot roast sandwich. Disappointing. But we got out of the house as a couple and I was jazzed. Here's an awful picture of our trip.

Has everyone heard about the Mega Millions jackpot? It's up to $540 million dollars. Of course Tim and I are playing. We'd be fools not to. I know, there's only a 1 in 176 million chance that we'll actually win, but, hey, it's worth a shot. Yesterday we spent some time talking with Blaine about what we would spent all that money on. Of course we'd buy a house and a car, but then we ventured off in to how we would give the money away. Family and friends, of course, and charity. We all agreed we would want to set up scholarship funds for kids like us who don't really have the money to go to college on their own. Those who can't afford the loans that banks give out. Isn't it nice to think about things like that? When given the chance, finding ways we can help. It got me thinking though; there are ways I can help without winning over half a billion dollars.


There's only one homeless man that lives in Monterey Park. He sits at a bus stop in front of the Dollar Tree every day and sleeps at that bus stop every night; rain or shine. What, exactly, is stopping me from giving him some food? Or an old jacket? Or a bar of soap? Nothing! How busy can I possibly be that I can't prepare a bag of things for him and take them to him? Enter the "Blessing Bag." I saw this on Pinterest a while back and when thinking of the man on the corner, this popped in to my mind. Maybe once a week, I'll prepare a Blessing Bag for this man; I'll fill it with different items as they are needed, but there will always be some food. Since today Tessa is with Grammy, I am going to prepare one and drop it off to him with Tim. I encourage everyone to do this; not all the time, but when you see someone in need of help, try to lend them some in the form of a Blessing Bag, a banana, or even some kind of encouragement. 


Have a lovely day, everyone!

cheating.

Lately I have been totally cheating on my "diet." Now lest you be fooled, I am not one that adheres to a specific diet. Heck, I don't follow any diet! I'm more of a controlled portions person and I try to cut out soda and fast food. But I suck at the last two. I was raised on soda and fast food and it's such a tough habit to break. For a while I was doing really well...but then I totally fell off the wagon. In the past few days I have eaten In N Out, Jack in the Box, and Del Taco! Plus enough soda to clog some arteries. Why, oh why, does soda have to taste delicious? I have been avoiding counting my calories on my phone because I know I've been an ugly cheater and my husband uses the same app. Except he has to go OVER his allotted calories for the day because he's trying to GAIN weight. Must be nice, right?! Ugh, men! The nerve of them and their uber fast metabolisms. 


When I began this weight loss journey, I almost immediately lost seven pounds, then gained three, which I am praying is muscle. A girl can dream, right?! PLUS, I haven't gone to the gym since Tuesday. It totally doesn't help that my gym Man Candy was MIA on Tuesday, which discouraged me from going on Thursday. Bad girl, I know. But, seriously, ladies, if you saw this guy (his official name is "Sexy Boyfriend"), you'd totally understand that my attendance at the gym hinges on his. He is all the motivation a girl needs. You know when women say that men think they're women's gift from God. Okay, well Sexy Boyfriend SO is. No joke. I do love my husband, by the way, but he says he doesn't mind if I look. That's why God gave me eyes! ;-)


In simpler terms, I need someone to give me the kick in the pants I need when I feel like making an excuse to skip out on the gym or swoop through a drive thru for a large Dr. Pepper. Will you do that for me?


In other news, my lovely little Tessa is becoming quite the little lady. She has learned to feed herself completely independently. She wields her fork with much more ease than just three days ago. Monkey now refuses any help and any finger food type snacks at mealtime. She wants only food that she can stab with her fork or scoop up with her spoon. I'm totally proud, but also wondering when, exactly, my little princess stopped needing my help and secretly wishing she still did. Motherhood is like that; you're so excited for all of the new things they do, but at the same time you feel a little sense of loss because you know they're that much farther away from being your "baby." Well, at least I feel that way. It feels like not so long ago, Tessa Baby couldn't even hold her head up and I would nurse her in bed while we cuddled. Now she has no time for cuddling. It's all about exploring! 


Here are come current pictures. Thank goodness for Instagram!

Mama & Monkey before she went to Grammy & Grandpa's.

Am I terrible for doing this? ;-)

At the hair salon. She didn't even cry once during our 3 hour trip!

Coloring with Daddy.

Clearly I was bored today!

Have a great week, everybody. Monday fun-day?

xoxo, Britnie

Dear Tessa.

Dear Tessa,

For the past hour, you have been either lying or sitting in your crib, jibber jabbering the night away while your Daddy is in bed, not three feet from you, trying to sleep as much as he can before work. Part of me thinks that I should go in there and scoop you out of your crib and shush you until you are so sleepy you can't keep your eyes open so that Daddy gets some quiet. But at the same time, I love to hear your chatty little self go on and on, your hands swinging through the air, making all kinds of gestures. You are so expressive. Just like me. If you're happy, unimpressed, sad, or angry...the world knows in an instant. Your facial expressions and the inflections in your voice give you away. If you love something, you'll clap and bounce. But if you don't like someone or something is bothering you, the sassy side of you comes out and you glare. I always tell Daddy "if looks could kill, she'd be quite the assailant." 

Your Uncle Rob calls it "baby music" when babies chat and make noise. I always thought it was a little odd, but now I think that term is perfect. That's what your ramblings are to me: baby music. Your little voice is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard and I could listen to you all day. It doesn't matter where we are, you go on and on and I am convinced you are telling me all about your day and what you did with Daddy and you are people watching, just like I do. You have been a chatter box since you were four months old. Most people don't believe it, but it's true! Daddy and I have kept recordings of you. One time we were in Target and you were talking so loud, I was convinced people could hear you from across the store. People would stop to see who was making all those cute sounds and were so surprised to see it was a baby as tiny as you! 

To this day, you still attract a ton of attention. When you're with me, which is all the time, I swear we get stopped 8-10 times in one grocery shopping trip. The workers at Ralph's go crazy for you and know you by name. Lauren, the manager, always gives you a balloon before we leave. I know it's because you are just so sweet and friendly. You say "hi" to everyone as we walk through the store and when we leave, you wake and say "bye!" as loud and as many times as you can until we get to the car. 

You are just so smart. You say so many things. Let me list them for you: hi, bye, baby, kitty, cute, woof woof, Mama, Daddy, Minnie ("Mimie"), Uncle Blaine (Ca Bay), go, bite, and no. Right now you love to say CUTE! about everything. Especially your Minnie Mouse pajamas. We were looking for a high chair for you online and you saw a baby and said "baby!" and pointed so excitedly. When we were at the park, we saw four small dogs on their leashes and you instantly started saying "woof woof. Woof woof!" You were so happy and I was so proud. Every day I am so proud of all the new things that you learn. Right now you are learning to feed yourself with a spoon. You can get the spoon with the food in to your mouth, but getting the food on the spoon is still trial and error. You tap your spoon on your plate and say "bite!" until I help you scoop some food. 

You didn't eat for almost two days because you wanted to be sitting at the table with Mama and Daddy, not on the floor in your little chair. It wasn't until you sat in the high chair at IHOP and ate all of your food that I figured out the problem. I couldn't help but realize how much like me you are. So stubborn and strong willed. You stick to your guns until you get what you want. You're emotional and get your feelings hurt easily. Some of those things I wish you took after your father, but what can I do? You got his looks and my thin skin. Sorry, kiddo.

Tonight you made me smile, like you always do, and I just had to sit down and type this out. I want the both of us to always remember how amazing our lives are together. How much love there is between us. You, my Tessa Baby, make my heart feel so full and simply amazing. I can't even appropriately describe the feeling I get in my chest when I see you or even think of you. I love you more than anything in this world and you better never forget it. Even when you're a teenager and you think you hate me. You'll always be my baby.

Love always,

Mama

changing my ways

Britnie. 24 years old. Foodie. Baking aficionado. Despiser of exercise. That last one isn’t true now, but it sure was a month ago. Gone are the days of constant “from scratch” baking. Goodbye to the fettuccine alfredo and brown sugar meatloaf. My husband misses the days of red velvet cake and chocolate chip cookies. He asks for meatloaf every week. Today ends week four of my weight loss challenge. I began going five days a week the first week of January. Not because I’m one of those New Year’s resolution people, but because I gained fifteen pounds since we moved in to our apartment on September 1^st. I know! Who does that? I was absolutely mortified when I stepped on the scale and realized that I weighed 187 pounds. My ideal weight is between 127 and 137 pounds. It embarrasses me beyond measure to post this horrid number where people can see it. Strangers, but mostly my horror comes from admitting to those I know that I had truly let myself go. I haven’t been this heavy since high school. I didn’t even realize while I was gaining the weight that I was getting so big. One day it hit me like a ton of bricks that my “loose and comfy” pants were now tight and uncomfortable. 

I no longer had the excuse of having a baby. Tessa was 13 months old and I’d only gained 16 pounds while pregnant and lost 24 immediately after her birth. I was forced to look myself in the mirror and tell myself that I’d had enough. That’s not the most fun moment in one’s life. Who wants to admit that they are fat and horribly unhealthy? I had almost no energy throughout the day and found cleaning my entire apartment to be a tiring challenge. So I said enough. Enough spending my days on the couch. Enough making excuses about why I can’t make it to the gym. It was time to get real and get moving. I gave up soda, meat, and sweets. The no meat thing didn’t last long. I was constantly tired and needed the protein. But I managed to curb by sweets and soda. For the most part. In one month I’ve had five sodas. Five too many. As I write this, I am sipping a Diet Dr. Pepper and wishing I had never cracked it open. My father-in-law lovingly brought two 12 packs, not realizing that diet is sometimes worse than the regular. But it’s better than the two or three sodas a day that I’d find a way to indulge in.

Let me put it this way: soda is my cigarettes. Or alcohol. I’m an admitted sodaholic and I hate it. Most kids are raised on apple juice or even Kool-aid. Not me. At the age of five, I began drinking Dr. Pepper regularly. My mom would buy bottles or cans of it for me every week at the store, especially when it was on sale. I guess this was one of her ways of spoiling me, but unfortunately it set me up for failure in the health department. My addiction soared throughout high school and stayed pretty bad until I married my husband. It tapered off a bit since he’s not a soda drinker, but I’d find ways to get it when he wasn’t around. I know this sounds crazy, but soda really is my vice. And I am trying to be completely honest and keep myself accountable. Not to just myself, but whoever else reads this. I want there to be other people who will catch me when I’m slipping or remind me how bad it really is. 

Drinking water was never high on my list. I know there have been loads of times when I have been dehydrated because I would go days without a single glass of water. But those days are no more. I have just got up, poured out three quarters of the can of soda, and opted for ice water. See? This is already working. These days I average 6-8 glasses of water and 1-2 glasses of 1% milk. I instantly feel better in the morning after having a glass of water. My meal portions have shrunk, and my workouts are much easier when I have hydrated. 

Monday through Friday I wake up, have breakfast with Tessa, play with her, put her down for a nap, and head to the gym. I catch the bus with my friend, Blaine, and we get picked up at 2:30 by my husband, Tim. These days, my time at the gym is the only “me” time that I get and I love it. I bump my music and get in the zone. I get on the elliptical for 25-30 minutes, and then work out either abs & obliques, or arms, chest, and back, or legs and glutes. Then I get in the sauna for 15 minutes, shower, and leave. Today I upped my elliptical time to 40 minutes and I felt great afterwards. I can feel myself getting stronger. But I have only lost 7 pounds. To me, that number is either my biggest motivator or it ruins my day. In my head, I am thinking “only 7 pounds in a month?!” I know, muscle weighs more than fat, but I want to see that number go DOWN. A lot. 

So here I am, looking for others to share in my journey. My goal is to lose 50 pounds, be fit and be healthy. On this blog I’ll write about my workouts, workout tunes, recipes, highs, and lows. I’m sure there will be chatter about my favorite tv shows, Tim., and of course, my amazing, beautiful, sweet, and sometimes stubborn daughter, Tessa. How could I not?

So tell me: what’s your weight loss goal and what are you doing to get there?