1. I've started dieting again as well as exercising regularly. I have a goal. There's a dress hanging in my closet that I wish to get into for my sister-in-law's wedding in March. I had forgotten how hard it was to strive for a body weight goal. Can't get used to the fact that my rumbling tummy must be a constant tune in my ears if I am to feel like I'm getting closer to wearing the dress. What a hard, hard challenge it has become for me to lose weight.
2. Yesterday, I took my son to an ice cream parlor for the very first time. I know what you are thinking - total self-flagellation to do this now that I'm dieting right? Anyway, you would think the kid had died and gone to heaven, he was that far gone once he realized this was chocolate ice cream paradise. By the time he had finished the one scoop we ended up getting him, I was swimming in the adoration his eyes conveyed for me. What I really wanted to do was dive headfirst into the nearest tub of ice cream. You will be happy to know I resisted the eat me demons. One little spoonful out of my child's cup. This is all I allowed myself. Pat me on the back. I deserve it!
3. I dislike Dora the Explorer. My idea of torture is hearing tu-tu-rut-tu teDora as background noise to my early mornings. My son however, could care less that she makes me want to pulverize our television. For him, Dora is a must see. On days he doesn't attend school, I have to grit my teeth and watch him become hypnotized by yet another episode with that insanely annoying little girl. I'm convinced there are some nefarious subliminals in that cartoon. Back-pack-back-pack. By the way, have you noticed that her face is wider than the span of her shoulders? Click!-take-a-pic! Whoever conceived her had no sense of body proportion. We did it! We did it! We did it!
4. Grand is the morning in Houston today. All golden and blue and totally overdone in early day splendor. Here's a photo I just took so you can see what I mean. The day helps to offset my dislike of Dora.
5. Wicked was the magic act we witnessed at a kiddie birthday party last Saturday. A magician decapitated Barney (I kid you not) in front of a bunch of toddlers. Now that I think about it, couldn't he have just guillotined Dora?
6. I know, I know, I'm a bit obsessive. Actually, a lot obsessive but, just about certain things. Still I have to pause and re-evaluate myself when I see the kid copying me in certain behaviors. Yesterday for example, he dragged me to a stack of books in his bedroom, pointed imperiously at them and said libro! (book!). I knew what he wanted, we've been through this before. He wanted me to arrange some of his books in a straight, aligned stack because he had tried himself (like he does more often) and he'd not been able to arrange them as neatly as I do. Hmmm... do I have a librarian in the making? or a budding neat-freak?
7. Quite frankly, I think he is neither. My son is very capable of destroying for the up-teenth time my efforts at making this house look like a tornado has not paid us a visit. He's just a little kid aping a somewhat compulsive mommy. As long as he tries to not copy the guillotine act, we'll do fine.
8. Yesterday I attended a funeral for a friend's mother-in-law. Never met the lady (may she rest in peace) but I felt like I knew her well by the time the verbal tributes were over. It had been years since I'd gone to a memorial service. Her son said that his mother's legacy in this world was like a vapor trail left behind by a plane in the sky. You did not necessarily had to have seen the plane to know it had passed by but, you knew it had made its way through just because of the trail. He said that every time he or those in attendance acted upon what she had taught (apparently she was very active in her church) then, like the trail in the sky, his mother continued to live, no longer there but, you knew she'd been. I've surely made a hash of his moving words but I think you get the gist of his meaning no matter how poorly I've re-stated it.
9. Speaking of trails I found a fantastic website that I'll share with all of you lovers of unusual cartography. It is called Strange Maps. I discovered this cartographic leap of the imagination there the other day. I know the text is small but start up north then make your way down to the Sea of Matrimony. So appropriate for Valentines Day.
10. I'm utterly in love with the latest issue of delicious. magazine. Mouthwatering photography, easy to follow recipes, have I told you I'm on a diet yet? Purchasing cooking mags really does not help me any but I'm incapable of stopping myself. I go through the stuff like a chocoholic goes through good chocolate or a soon to be newlywed pores over wedding magazines. The dieting only exacerbates the syndrome. Today, I'm going over to Barnes and Noble to purchase Olive magazine. Another fantastic serial foodie compendium. So many dishes, too little calorie allowance. I'm into torture as you can see.
11. I've turned my kid into a bit of a sybarite. Let me explain. He adores chocolate. So do I. He's my kid after all. Anyway, he asks for it all day long. I've even heard him mumble the word chocolate in his sleep. Now you know what he dreams about. Nevertheless, he was very egalitarian in his chocolate tastes, the decent and the not so decent in terms of quality went down his throat in like measure. That was until mommy got into buying the really good stuff. I'm talking 70% and above. That's Michel Cluizel, Amedei and Valrhona for starters. Now try and give him a bit of a Mars bar and the kid looks at you with scorn. Sneak something into that unsuspecting mouth of his that is not of the highest quality and he spits it out like ca-ca. What have I done? I'm doling it out like the gold it costs, that's what I'm doing. A little piece a day. No more, no less. I've taken to hiding the stash because he's observant and he's learned how to climb. A resourceful child. Now if only mommy had been as smart in the first place.
12. I'm wondering what I'm doing here sitting in front of my computer when the beautiful day calls and the kiddie is going into ping-pong mode. That's his way of telling me there's too much energy in him and we need to burn some of it before nightfall else, mommy and daddy will get no sleep. Goodbye folks. Sorry I've been posting less these last few days. My mother's departure had me down. As in down in the dumps. Not even good chocolate can cure that kind of melancholy.