Weight - 162 - again!

There is screaming in our house. Lots of screaming. Asher has decided he is big enough to do everything for himself. The trouble is, this is not so much correct. Yesterday it started when I picked the kids up at daycare. Asher started screaming because "Asher do!" was not obliged when he wanted to buckle himself into his seat. Now - it was only not obliged because when I took my hands away to let him do it himself, he pushed the buckles away, hopped out of the seat, and attempted to drive away on his own from the front seat. Apparently, "Asher do!" had more to do with the car and less to do with the seat buckles. Upon getting home (where I made sure he put up the garage door before driving in) there was more screaming because "Asher do!" started again in honor of unbuckling himself, opening the car door, and jumping down out of the van. Thankfully, he cannot actually unbuckle himself (or those trips down the highway would get MUCH more exciting) nor can he open the van door. He can jump down from the van (and off of the coffee table and out of his crib and down 3 flights of stairs) so he got to do that.

Then it was time for dinner making. "Asher do!" now applied to cutting open the turkey package (Chicken! According to Asher) and browning the turkey. He also wanted to participate in cutting the carrots, broccoli, and brussel sprouts for the little stir fry I was making. Yes, it was a pretty healthy meal last night I think. Thankfully, Gavin had run outside to dig up worms for his newly acquired crawfish (Which he would NOT let me put in our dinner and I was so unhappy) (um, the crawfish, not the worms.) so Asher became distracted by the open door and the sandbox. I finished cutting with only one helper as Jessie was enjoying putting the cut veggies into the bowl and the parts we weren't cooking into the trash. Since Asher had taken the package of noodles outside with him in a covert attempt to force me into requesting his assistance, the meat and veggies cooked while I asked Asher nicely to find the noodles. Jessie found them for us and "Asher do!" started all over again with the noodles.

Dinner was finally made and the kids rounded up at the table. Asher declared the turkey to be "Good!" and picked all the ground turkey out of his veggie stir fry. When the ground turkey was gone, he wanted to dish himself up some more. (Asher do!) Aside from the fact that he was not going to get away with just eating the meat, Asher dishing himself up tends to also include Asher dishing up food for the table and the floor and sometimes the windows in the next room. (Depending on how much oomph he gets into his frustrated throw when the spoon that is bigger than his torso doesn't do what he wants.)

After dinner, we went outside to work on the swing set some more. We've got much of it put together but now we are putting the tunnel slide together. "Asher do!" was heard as he wanted to screw in the nuts and bolts and tighten the large sheets of plastic together into a slide. Even though I promised him that when he was a teenager he could not only do all the manual labor type things like that but also mow the lawn and bring lemonades out to my lawn chair he still screamed at not being able to put together the slide.

At bedtime, after Asher insisted that he got BOTH sippy cups with juice (which I resolved by giving them both to him and telling him to give one to Jessica - amazing how compliant he is when it is put that way instead of just giving him one and handing the other straight to Jessie.) we went upstairs for pjs, teeth brushing, and stories. Oh the screaming. If I am going to let "Asher do!" his own pjs, then he is going to have to NOT put the shirt on by putting his feet into the arm holes. I tried to let Asher brush his teeth, but 'Asher do!' meant Asher throwing the toothbrush as far from him as possible. (He really needs to be signed up for little league because he has got an ARM!) The one thing Asher did NOT want to do was clean the toothpaste off the wall when I handed him the washcloth and said "Get to it, boy." Thankfully, the last "Asher do!" was something I could totally allow as he wanted to climb into his own crib. I do love how easily this boy goes to bed.

BTW - Mom - Yes, I DO know all the stories you have about me as a child and my single most uttered phrase "ME DO IT!" and no, I don't think you're funny.

While I was running this morning there was a news program about gay marriages. I didn't catch much of it because the treadmills are far from the screens and I can't read the captioning at the bottom very well. The one thing I caught was something about "opponents of gay marriages have gained" What did they gain? I don't know. Frankly, if it had said "A brain and stopped being so insane and dropped the whole issue." I'd have totally rejoiced. I suspect, however, that it was something much darker for America. OK, here's the thing - in general, I believe the people that oppose gay marriages do so because their religious terms for marriage do not support two people of the same gender being married in that religion. Well, so what? Their terms for marriage also do not support two witches that have conspired with a Wiccan (yep, actually Wiccan this time - AND nuttier than a fruit bat, I might add) priest and his WIFE, a Wiccan priestess (She was not so nutty, but she did have a broken leg and you can kinda see the cast under her robes in the pictures if you look) to use the large broadsword that I (I mean she, the female witch-bride) bought as a wedding gift for her witch-groom and draw a circle around the wedding location. Then we called forth the guardians of the watchtowers of the North, East, South, West - the spirits of Earth, Air, Fire, and Water - and of course, the Goddess, Mother Earth and the God, Father Sun, to witness and participate in our marriage. I mean - in their marriage. I mean Hand-fasting. We then jumped over, back, and over a broom again before walking back down the aisle to greet our guests. We didn't even call it a wedding - it was a Hand Fasting. However because Kris has a penis and I do not, none of that other totally NOT Christian stuff apparently matters. This, to me, means their argument is bunk. I mean, pick a freaking stance and stick to it logically and fully if you are going to, for crying out loud. If the only LEGAL marriages should be Judeo-Christian (or Muslim or whatever religions are going to be included here) marriages - then at least make that your running stance. But they DON'T. Why? Because they know that it would be pushing too many people too far. Pick a battle you have a chance at winning - and thus the poor gays get all the grief while we witches get to hang our marriage certificate on the wall in a frame. Which is interesting really - considering in the past witches have just gotten to hang and I'm pretty sure gay people would sometimes float if tossed in a lake too.

I would, by the way, get into the whole issue of separation of Church and State, but I happen to know that 99.9% of the people that think gay people should not be legally allowed to marry ALSO think the church, correction, THEIR church, and the state should be downright pre-marital lovers. Thus, it is a moot point to argue. The other 0.1% is clearly confused and probably thinks they are voting on how it should be illegal to dress Chihuahuas up in tiny little tuxedos because damn, how much humiliation should a dog have to endure?

And thus my day starts. Incidentally, I am REALLY REALLY tired because I've been staying up way past my bedtime trying to catch up on the shows recorded on my DVR. I turned it on the other day to start a Dora show for Jessie while I got Asher put to bed and it screamed something at me about expectations and attention and SAYING I want to watch a show and then getting 5 episodes behind. I just finished off the last episode of "The Love Boat" and "Cheers" so I'm making a real dent - that was really sad about Gopher though - that's all I'll say about that so I don't ruin it for anyone else. When I go to bed past 10 (or 11, or 12), it is really hard to get up in the 5ish range. Then it is really hard to get into my workout. I did it though. I ran 5 whole miles this morning and I even finished at 49:29. I'm starting to think my shoes are showing some wear because my feet are starting to not like the running. I've been kinda hobbling around today as my right heel feels a little bruised. Of course, I'm certain it had nothing to do with walking around all day yesterday in 3 inch heels when I don't normally wear heels.

Ultra-Bitch (I've changed her name. This one is more fun) was in the locker room again today. She wears bright orange cotton thong underwear. Once she got dressed I still couldn't take her seriously because I kept seeing those thongs in my mind. She was also taking up slightly less of the bench today so I didn't get to practice my super negotiating talents and suggest we clear off a little corner and call it Robyn-land.

We are now a week and 3 days out from having potential egg donor activity. I've heard a rumor that once that happens, I'm supposed to start taking some kind of medication. I don't know what or how much so I figure I could just go to the pharmacy and ask for the grab-bag special. I swear this agency thrives on keeping me as much in the dark as possible… that… or they just like paying extra to overnight meds to me while knowing that I'm freaking out because I have no idea what comes next. Our egg donor has also just NOW been sent her STD testing kit which she has to complete before we can do anything. Now, we've HAD 2-3 weeks for this to have been done but it has not. Instead we are doing a rush order on it to make sure everything is back in time. I have never wanted to start my own company more in my life. Seriously, THIS is an internationally renown agency? Anyway, I feel bad griping about it all. I don't honestly mind so much for myself and when I do it, my boys think I'm being stressed out by it all when I am not. Honestly, I just can't pass up the humor opportunity their customer service provides.

BTW - speaking about fertility and surrogacy stuff - I'd just like to make a shout out about the Sex And The City movie/show for those of you going through that that might be having an aneurism because of the way infertility is dealt with by them. I mean, she (Charlotte) is given a 15% chance of naturally getting pregnant due to her cervical fluid being anti-sperm. She takes this as a death sentence for any possible pregnancy when DUH, 15% chance is nearly NORMAL and pretty damn high. Then she adopts which is awesome but she finds herself pregnant in the movie (this is in the previews so I'm not disclosing anything secret.) She gushes about how all she had to do was adopt and stop thinking about it and she got pregnant! Whoo hoo! Well, in real life, people that have infertility issues are not given such a generous 15% shot. Also in real life, when there are real infertility issues, just relaxing and not thinking about it are not going to make real medical issues go away. Thankfully, for my boys dealing with infertility, no one has ever been dumb enough to say "Just relax and it will happen naturally, why all the medical intervention?" Well, because duh really. But when the couple is not two guys (or two women) the general idea is that given time, it will just happen. Truthfully, many people dealing with infertility have actual medical reasons why they are NOT any MORE likely than two gay guys to conceive just by relaxing. The SATC show just kinda spat in the face of infertility when they could've really had an opportunity to deal with a very real issue. That was disappointing. Not that I think they are responsible for educating the public on infertility so I don't really care that much. I guess I just wanted to say… ya… wow… that wasn't so cool of them was it?

I'll sign off now. I'm hoping I wrote about enough hot buttons that more people will feel inclined to enter comments. :) Hey, I'm a grown up. I can take it. What have ya got to say??

Things have been busy around here! I think it has been at least a week since I've been to the gym and I need to get back into that. Not that I have been lounging around or anything. I've gotten in 2 runs in the neighborhood and some biking and some hiking. Not enough to make up for eating like I'm trying to store up trans fats to hibernate for the next 3 years. The biking was honestly more for gas conservation as I did some errands around my neighborhood but it was still exercise. I biked up to the liquor store to pick out some nice bottles of wine to bring to my mom's house as part of her anniversary gift. If you've never biked to a liquor store with a backpack on your back to carry your stash of alcohol home in, lucky you. I'm pretty sure everyone that saw me was ready to sign me up for AA after my obvious license revocation due to too many DUIs. Well, except for the people that saw how clearly out of my element I was in the liquor store. I do hope I got them a nice bottle that they will enjoy because I wouldn't know a Yellow Tail from a Conundrum from a Barefoot or a Smoking Loon even if you gave me their names in pig latin before blindfolding me for the taste test.

The feeling I have of being off the path of righteousness with my health is pretty bad. It isn't the exercise though - even with the lack I've been having. I understand things in life take priority sometimes. It is the way that I mindlessly eat when snacks are available - and they sure have been! Car trips and camping had us buying 'snacks'. While everyone else was sitting around talking and being social and not eating, I was constantly needing to have something in my hands to snack on. It was creepy how I KNEW I was doing it while I did it. I don't typically have stuff like that around for just that reason. There is a part of me though that just says - oh well. You've lost a lot of weight and you know how to get to where you need to be and how to be healthy so if some vacation time and stressful court time (the past week's events - family court stuff - no actual DUIs!!) come along and have you gain a little you can just go back to normal life and bring it back down. I know I can so I have to just not stress about thinking that old obese person is trying to suck me back into her life.

I seem to be writing this backwards in time, with the recent stuff first and the earlier stuff last. Since it's my blog, I'm gonna say deal with it. Memorial day was a fun camping trip my friend Jeanette invited us on. I was very leery about how well all five of us would do with the grown-ups being outnumbered by children 3-2 on this trip. I wasn't so worried about Jessie as she generally sticks near us and finds ways to have fun. Gavin and Asher, on the other hand, can be a handful. Asher actually did fairly well. He enjoyed playing in the dirt and was happy to see another baby there that he could hug, hand cars to, and pile dirt on. Oh the courtships of toddlers… it reminds me of college. He also developed a strange love for running through weedy areas which drove me crazy because of wood ticks and itch weed. (My husband is paranoid about poison ivy. Since I've never experienced poison ivy but HAVE experienced the thrill of rubbing bare legs through itch weed patches - my plant of choice for camping paranoia is itch weed.) I had to keep running after him and bringing him back to the cleared areas.

Gavin was having trouble staying away from the fire. He was bored for the most part and I felt bad about that because he couldn't go off and do anything without someone there and we were all so busy watching the other kids or trying to visit with our friends that going off on hikes all over the place wasn't going to happen. We did do three hikes, 2 with the big groups and 1 with just me and him moments before the massive rainstorm hit. The whole trip was really busy and chaotic for him (i.e. - off from his normal routine - i.e. - a normal vacation) which made it very hard to stay focused and in the moment and his impulse control that we work so hard on was taking a hit… thus the trouble staying away from the fire pit. I feel so bad for him when this happens because how sucky would it be to end every single vacation grounded? But - being consistent as you have to be - that is exactly what he brought back from the trip. I was getting a little irritated because I think other adults assumed that since we were not publicly humiliating Gavin for his lapses in control we were not doing anything at all. I also think that they were assuming that since he kept doing it, we were not doing anything at all to help him learn better control. Not really an assumption that works well with an ADHD kid. Heck, if one "OK, you didn't listen, now you have the consequences to deal with." was all it took - I don't think there would even be a term for ADHD as no one would notice.

Anyway, I'm not going to sour a fun camping trip by dwelling on it. Gavin still talks about how much he loved hiking to Eagle Peak and we all saw cacti (YES, in MINNESOTA!**Correction - WISCONSIN**) at the top. I ended up driving home Sat night with Asher and Jessie while Kris slept there and I was going to get to sleep there (and thus hang out with my friends at night) Sunday night while Kris brought Asher home to sleep in his crib - but Sunday took a turn for the worse with the weather and we packed everything up just before the rain and hail hit. Well, not everything. We had one big tent out that we all huddled under to share our last spaghetti meal with. We couldn't find the forks since it was all packed up so the kids sat on the floor of the tent eating spaghetti with spoons. Oh, and the tick count for the weekend was FIVE! I found one on Asher, one on Gavin, and three on myself. Why on me when the kids were the ones running through the weeds, I do not know. I'll have you know though that there are two things in this world that I absolutely totally completely get creeped out by. Woodticks, and leeches. A very close 3rd is drool which a certain dog named Sam was happy to provide this weekend. I still get the shivers when I think about those ticks crawling around.

After we got home we found out how close we were to some very serious tornados. The "could've"s are pretty scary but we all were quite lucky and safe. Our house was missing some shingles but that was all. One family that was in the storm's path lost their little 2 year old. I hate hearing about that. I still remember a tornado that took a little baby out of her mother's arms back when Gavin was little. We have been very fortunate to not have any real storm experience in our lives.

So here I am, back at work today. Very tired but very ready to get back to normal life.

Weight: 163.0 lbs.

Ack! That's all I can think of to say on the weight. I mean, I've been eating mostly right and working out and trying to really pay attention to what I'm doing so that I could get back to the 150s and away from the scary 161. I get on the scale for the first time in awhile after working out away from the gym expecting to see a nice drop… or at least a normal toe-the-line same as every other day 160. It took my brain awhile to process the combination of the 1, 6, and 3. Seriously. That's just not right. And yet, it is what it is and I'm not in my life to dwell on that weight. Really though, when stuff like that happens while I'm working to go in the other direction, it tends to scare me. I mean, what would I do if in another 3 days, with the same level of activity, I go to 168? Where is my control? I don't really think that would happen - but the concepts and the what ifs kinda just hang out there.

I am very proud to say that I ran the full 7 miles in the Eagan Fun Run. Well, it was a 2 mile run and then a 5 mile run. Technically, I stopped to walk for about 25 seconds when they handed out water to drink the little cup without choking because really - I didn't want to tax my coordination at that point. The 2 mile run was really nice. It was through this residential area with lots of nice homes that I'd love to live in. A few hills which bugged me since I'm used to running on the perpetually flat land that could go on forever with my treadmill. There was this group of kids that were about Gavin's age (8) that all had bright red shirts on and were running the 2 mile run. Now, I really didn't want to kill myself with the 2 mile since I had a 5 mile to complete after but I also was determined to not let a certain couple of skinny little girls stay in front of me. I almost passed them on the big downhill section where I actually passed a number of people. Hey, taking giant leaps down the hill lets gravity do the work and I don't mind taking advantage of that. The girls, however, were still in front. It wasn't until we got to the last quarter mile that I finally passed them - wussy little kids! At the very end, there was this section of bike trail that led from the road to the finish line in the park. I tend to pick it up when I can see the finish line - mentally it feels like throwing myself across that line. There was this boy, maybe about 12 or so, in front of me on that bike path. He did not want me to pass him. I'd try to go around on one side, and he'd move over on the path to block me. I'd try to go on the other side, and he'd move over to the other side to block me. Then he picked up his pace so that it wasn't an issue anymore anyway. I didn't catch the time when I finished, but my friend there told me it was ~20:04 or so. Considering I was trying to run it slow enough that I'd not die for the 5 mile run, that was pretty impressive. We had about 10-13 minutes to walk a bit and then it was up to the starting line for the 5 mile.

Now, I know that I'm hardly the best runner or anything, but I have to say that I'm used to not being in the very back of any run. Usually, it seems, there are enough people there that are slower (and walking at least some of the way) such that I can feel securely in the middle of the pack. In this 5 mile run, my friend and I found ourselves dead last as we started out. She told me to go on ahead but really, for all that I was happy to look like I was being nice by running with her, I wasn't all that sure I had much 'ahead' in me. It was rough to start out that 5 mile after running the 2. It was more rough to feel like you were really trying hard and EVERYONE, including the mom pushing the 3-wide jogging stroller, was in front of you. Having that fire truck nipping at your heels is creepy. I would've loved to have taken it slower but ego-wise, I just couldn't. Plus, I didn't have my GPS with me and I wasn't entirely certain that if I DID stop to walk and lose the group completely, I'd be able to find my way back. So I ran to get back in the safety of the pack. I ran to stay on course. It was challenging. The self talk you do the whole way. Running past the houses as the people go out to watch the runners and knowing that I could not stop to walk in front of them, period. The sun was out and it was getting really bright on my face. The shady places were good but before long the sun was high enough that the fences along the bike paths weren't keeping it out of my eyes. I managed to burn my face just a bit. I don't know what it is… it isn't painful to run. If there was actual pain in running I'd understand why the drive to stop and walk is so intense. As it is, I don't. During that run in particular, it was just a matter of compartmentalizing that desire to stop and keeping it separate from the mechanics of running. Moving your arms and legs - setting those on a rhythm and leaving your brain to consider other things such as why that police officer back there just told you it was almost over and all downhill from here on out and she totally LIED because now you're going up a little slope. It is weird. I can see the draw to run those longer distances and to practice keeping that desire to stop down. To take control over what you are doing and to own those movements, and to beat that inner voice that wants to NOT do it. Well, 7 miles was absolutely long enough for me! I'll have to do that again and get better at the distances but as of right now, I was quite dead at the end. Dead enough to let Jeanette's dog french kiss me as I laid in the grass at the end anyway, so there you are. Oh, and I again missed my time but my friends told me it was about 53 minutes for that 5 miles… so 73 minutes or so for 7 miles.

I can honestly say that I did not expect to be sore after that run. I've been running 5 mile workouts so really, what's an extra 2 miles? Well, I was a little sore on Sunday. Today I went in and did a 3 mile run (27 minutes and something seconds!!) and I could feel the soreness and tightness while I stretched. The next run is at the end of June and judging by the 7 weeks out thing, I might be able to run that as well. We'll see though.

Last Friday I heard from the guys that it is for sure now that we are going with a new donor. I'm excited to find out where we are at now for everything. I'd have to imagine that it depends on where the donor and I are, cycle-wise. Theoretically, if it was just based on my cycle, we could do a transfer around the middle two weeks of June. It will be so nice to have a plan and schedule that we are all following along and know more or less what is going to happen. It almost sounds crazy to even think about at this point!

I have reconfirmed my belief that restaurants should HAVE to post calorie content for their meals somewhere easily accessible. You may recall that little Stuffed French Toast comment I made. Yes, I knew it was unhealthy. Well, I looked it up, and the sucker had 1500 calories!! If I had known that, there would've been NO WAY I'd have ordered it. Now, one might argue that we are all intelligent people here and we can obviously tell sugar and butter slathered french toast with blueberry pie filling and whipped cream cheese frosting oozing out of it is not going to be good for us. This is totally true. I KNEW as I was eating it that I was eating something bad. The sort of light-headed feeling I got partway through was a good indication although I was not sure that wasn't the ice melting onto my lap from the apple juice Asher had poured all over me after squeezing and crumpling his styrofoam cup just like some uber muscle man crushing his 8th can of beer. Hey, at least he didn't smash it against his forehead and say "I'm going to pump - you - up!" Anyway, I was OK with this as a one time thing. I did not know the actual number though. Somehow, knowing that number made the difference. I'd have never eaten it. Now, I'm not mad at the restaurant or anything like that. It is not their fault that I ate it. They can have whatever they want on the menu. I just think, as a tool for me, it would be better for my health to have those numbers made clear before I order. My impulse eating tendencies seem to really need the stats made clear to be held at bay.

People have been asking for surrogacy updates. I haven't been giving much because there's not much to give. I had thought the guys were set on changing egg donors however it turns out they decided to wait on some medical testing to make that choice. I do believe there will be a decision made today in that regard. Just on a whim - hey - if you happen to be signed up as an egg donor and not getting your period and are being really vague on all the details - feel free to leave a comment or send me an e-mail… I'd love to know what the heck is going on! Counting 7 weeks out from now we'd have the earliest transfer time to be July 4th although I'm not certain 7 weeks would still be accurate with a new donor. You know, I wasn't going to say anything about this - but my history has been that I've only gotten pregnant in Sept or Oct for all of my living babies. It has all been total coincidence - those have certainly not been the only months that we've tried. Back when the transfer was to be in April or May, I didn't bring it up because it sounded a bit morbid. Now that weird coincidences have brought us closer and closer to those months though, it does seem odd. Still, I'm really really hoping that we're not still trying to get pregnant come those months. This is pregnancy though, which means even with all the medical intervention, we're not in control of much so we'll just have to see what happens.

Yesterday I went for a long walk around the neighborhood as my 'workout'. I don't know how much actual 'work' was involved in it but it was interesting. I checked out all the bank-owned homes in the area. There were 3 of them. Kinda a sad thing to see. Although - 2 of them were never owned by any real people. They had been built along the busy road that connects the businesses to the residential areas near where I live. They were these single family units that looked more like NY row houses. They had garages in the back that were not attached to the house. None of these things sounds very appealing. Noisy, dirty road, lots of stairs in a mostly up and down house, NOT attached and NOT heated garage in MN… what were they thinking??? If I had no kids and never planned on having kids I might have considered it due to being in walking distance of the shops and everything… but if I had no kids and never planned on having kids and wanted to live like that, I'm thinking this particular northern suburb would not be my first choice of living places. Also, I'd never get over the not attached garage. I'm not shocked that the bank seized them from the builders. Poor bank really, because those are never going to sell. Anyway, that was my workout. Tonight I'll be aiming for that pasta dinner and an early night so that I can get up bright and early and drive to the Eagan Fun Run. Wish me luck!!

One last thing - I have to brag a little about my son. Yesterday was the review of Gavin's IEP at school. Everyone had very glowing things to say about Gavin so I'm very happy about that. Now, he still has the same teacher that has, on many occasions, accused me of being a bad parent to Gavin. She has no children and honestly she's kinda a nut job though so in as much as it is possible for a parent to not care about someone saying that to him or her (which is really hardly possible at all) I'm there. Now, all of you Minnesotans reading this may want to look away for a bit as I'm about to be really self praising. I believe that under MANY other people's parenting, Gavin would've had a MUCH different life. I think that the way that I am with him has kept him mostly positive and enthusiastic and trusting of the world when he has had a LOT of hardships to deal with. He has had plenty of reasons to get down on himself, to have little to no self esteem, and to stop trusting adults and authority completely, not to mention no longer trusting himself. When he cannot always control his impulses and he finds himself often doing exactly what he would like himself to NOT be doing and gets into trouble so very very often, how many kids would've internalized that to themselves? Now, I still have a few years left before he is a teen (Of which I am completely aware and grateful for every last second) so those years of angst will undoubtedly bring on their own challenges. All the same, Gavin is still such a bright, charming, enthusiastic, happy boy and I'm so so so happy to see him able to realize that about himself.