Update (4/5/10) - They'll be lancing, excuse me, excising this sucker on 4/15. And I'm pretty sure I have to be at the hospital which is about 40 minutes from my home at 6:00 a.m. As you can imagine I'm thrilled. Ok really I kinda am. Not about the 6:00 a.m. and not about the getting my neck cut open but secretly I'm excited for the down time. I know sad, right ? The surgery is only about an hour and recovery is only a few days. The suckiest part ? I have to refrain from any strenous activity for 1 month post surgery. Uh hello jiggly ass, I might as well embrace you because it looks like you be sticking around awhile!
If you haven't read my last post yet, go read it now. This will make a lot more sense if you do.
Alternate title under consideration: "Excuse me while I fall apart" because hello first there was this. Then I got shin splints which temporarily halted my master plan to be hot bodied by summer.
Now, I have...an adams apple. Or what looks like one anyway. Some random nodule on my throat which is both stressing me the hell out and making me laugh at the same time (it's either that or cry) . It appeared yesterday or so I think and I promptly made everyone in my house let me feel their necks so I could compare to see if this thing was normal. And guess whose neck mine most closely resembles right about now ?
If you guessed my husband you'd be correct.
I can only hope it's some random thyroid thing that will go away on it's own*. I can't bear to think of anything else. I love men and all...but I sure as hell don't want to be mistaken for one.
*before you even ask, why yes I do have a doctors appointment scheduled this afternoon. And you're welcome
I'm writing to you from what can only be described as an almost too tired to function state. In fact when I first started this post I typed in a title and instead of hitting tab I hit enter. And published a title.
Shit! I did it again. I hit enter and published a title and a sentence. Lord help me. My apologies to your readers.
Day one of this happened much like you and I both knew it would. I didn't do a damn thing. I had all kinds of anxiety Sunday night over the whole getting up early and instead of going to sleep at a reasonable hour, I farted around on the computer and watched tv until 12:00 a.m. When I awoke randomly at 4:00 a.m., I quickly decided to shut off my cell phone alarm and promptly rolled over and caught two hours more of zzzs.
Was I disappointed in myself ? Not really. I've lived with me for a long time and I kind of get me. I was pretty convinced shortly after I wrote the original post that I wasn't getting up on a Monday morning at 5:00 a.m. to work out.
In fact, I may have made a rule that Mondays are my "rest" day. But don't quote me on that. One never knows when a wild hair might sprout.
Then there was today. Day 2. I didn't sleep soundly because I think my subconscious was aware of the commitment my brain had made and just wouldn't allow it. So when the alarm went off, I actually got up. I grabbed my workout clothes , headed downstairs
on the couch
and stared in to space.
Finally after 20 minutes, I got sick of my own ridiculousness and told myself it was now or never. So still dragging somewhat I slapped in the EA Active Personal Trainerand did an actual workout. ( hell what can I say it makes working out less of a chore for me and more closely resembles something fun. Oh and tip to those who have it or are considering buying it. It's a great tool, but think about using weights instead of the resistance band that comes with the game. Sure you'll have to balance holding the Wii remote and the Nunchuck in your hands along with the weights but it will give you more of an intense workout. Wait What!? Did I just give a fitness tip? Woo-hoo lookit me!)
I felt glorious afterward. Exhausted, but glorious really. There was something about my home being so still and quiet that was calming. There were no children telling me about my jiggly parts or asking umpteen questions. Just me and my workout.
But now, holy eff I'm tired. Like the kind of tired where you feel drunk and can't walk straight.
And I know one of two things is going to happen. I will fall asleep early and be raring to go bright and early. Or I will be so tired, I'll sleep right through my alarm.
I'm almost afraid to say it too loudly. But I'm thinking of becoming a morning person.
If you know me via this blog or IRL you know that I am so ridiculously far from that right now that I might as well have said I'm thinking of becoming a man. It's possible, but it's going to take a lot of effort on my part.
I hate everyone in the morning. If you talk to me before I'm ready to hear a human voice I'll slap you. I'm that kind of evil.
But heres the thing, as much as it pains me to think this, I already am forced to be up at o'dark thirty . My work day starts at 7:30 a.m. which means I do get up early. Sure when I actually get to work, I'm usually makeupless, and dressed in the closest thing to pajamas and I hate it. But I do it.
Why am I contemplating this life change you ask ? The reality is that I need to start working out. Not just for weight loss, but for my personal health too. I'm no spring chicken and I'm told things only get harder as you get older. And after an 8 hour work day, a 1 hour commute, cooking, homework, picking out clothes for the next day, reading with kids, putting kids to bed, dishes and dog walking I'm exhausted and simply lack the will to workout.
So the other week as I looked at my big jiggly booty in the mirror an idea came to me.
Why not just work out in the morning ?!
My house is quiet, I won't have to contend with well meaning children that want to talk to me while I'm panting and sweating like a beast.
If I can manage to drag myself out of bed a mere hour earlier I can get in a 1/2 hour workout, shower,shampoo,shine and then I may even have more endorphins flowing which will surely help me to endure the work day.
Once this new plan is in place my hope is that when the work day is done, I won't have that awful feeling of "Shit, I didn't work out again tonight. I think my batwings have gotten droopier"
So we'll see. I've decided I'm going to document it. I can't not. Because I'll need a written record to show the doctors what drove me off the deep end.
I used to be Worker Mommy. Then WM. And while I like a certain degree of anonymity, I'm getting confused with all these "identities". In case you're wondering I still work and I'm still a "mommy". But now just plain old Stacey: generally sarcastic, perpetually tired and maybe a little goofy thrown in for good measure. Wife to hubby and mom to twins B(son) and J(daughter),9, stepdaughters TomGirl,19 and GT,17, and 3 furbabies in varying species and sizes.
If you wish to send money, free vacations or just share the love email me:im (dot)a(dot)twinz(dot)mommy(at)gmail(dot) com or follow me on Twitter: @twinmomoftwinz