Day 1 ...

today is the first day of "limited sugar"

If I were to write "first day of no sugar" then my aggressive/defiant self (ADS) would become alert and rather noisy (although ADS is generally silent -- 95% of the time, my passive/compliant self (PCS) is at the ready for well, nothing really) … oh anyway, I’m gona blame King G for this one! 

King sent me to a website for my health (‘cause he’s thoughtful that way) – it was so fitting. Too much so, actually, it was as if the speaker/author/“fitness dude” could see me through the back side of the monitor; dang it!  He called it… nearly every symptom, ailment, and concern I had recently complained about (mostly internally as PCS rules 95%, and what have I to complain about anyway?)

Perhaps… it is the increased percentage of ADS presence that has been tad bit more noticeable as of late … (hey now – don’t think you’ll be getting’ any confessions here, I’m just saying...  maybe I’ve been told to chill-a-tude a little more often than usual).

Stay with me now …

~

Day 1 no milk in coffee, means no latte.  No latte means … NO LATTE    auuughhh!!!   What the heck!   Who agreed to this stinkin' deal anyway.

Whoooa!!   Wait, wait … really, what I meant was “I drank tea today, didn’t have any cream to put in my coffee” (milk has hidden – well, it's clearly documented on the nutrition label, but there’s that sugar stuff in there). 

Tonight I baked cookies for the office -- Thursday Treats tomorrow.  Yeah, almond snickerdoodles with pink & red sprinkles for Valentines Day.  .   

Resisting was easier than I thought -- although memory loss may be one of the symptoms on that Dude's list... hmmm.   Well, easy if you call biting my tongue and/or pressing it to the roof of my mouth so no air gets inside.  Holding my breath so as not to 'smell' the cookies as they come out of the oven in their perfect sugar/cinnamon almondy delight -- yeah, THAT was easy [NOT].  But I did it.

As soon as each batch was cool enough I'd count them as I placed each dozen into the ziplock baggie for transport -- kind of therapeutic -- yet, also assurance that  my ADS had not snuck one away from the batch and preyed on it

~

It's late now ... tomorrow I will have different sugar woes uh-hmm, sugar cane, uh-oh.   Thus, ends Day 1 -- all cookies accounted for in a bag.  Only one q-tip head size crumb found it's way through pursed lips -- but my tongue felt better when I stopped biting it!!


( ps:   thanks a lot King! )

Honugirl

Got Milk or Coffee or ... ?

Shopping Hazards

I remembered this event from last summer – thought it would be fun to share.

One of the hazards of shopping for me is trying to remember where I parked my silver SUV. This is not a problem except in parking lots where there are a gazillion silver SUVs of varying brands that ALL look exactly like mine … that is, until I walk closer and realize mine is parked somewhere else. Sheesh!! 

I've decided it's easier to just bring the boys shopping, then I never have to remember anything:  they tell me where the car is; remind me that we're out of yogurt; suggest I buy more cheese; tell me the amount and type of lunch meat they will eat; and always think I'll fall for... "Mom, we remembered an item down this aisle -TOYS." Yeah, right.

Thus, goes the shopping… unless it happens to be a particular bright, brisk Sunday morning and I am shopping à la carte: No kids. No make-up. No hairstyle. No list . . . uh, no shower.

There are only two reasons I'm at the store prior to a shower and church clothes.

I need a latte, and I have no milk!

Oh no, I don't plan to buy a "three-dollar" drink. I'm just buying milk – to steam and pour into the most amazingly fresh hot double espresso liquid I brewed about 15 minutes before my shopping trip… exactly the amount of time it takes to realize I have no milk, don't care about no shower, and drive away from the shots of espresso, which now sit on the counter, patiently awaiting the steamed milk as a partner in perfection for my frugal latte indulgence. Mmmm.

 

Walking through the main entrance I shoot a glance toward the ATM – a line of people, on Sunday? Hmmm… could've killed two birds with one stone (remembering the deposit in my purse). I stop at the bank island anyway to fill out the deposit slip. No plans to wait in line as my surprisingly capable, yet caffeine-free brain tells me to "buy the milk first" hit the ATM on the way out. I take this advice.

 

Milk is at the back of the store. As I hear the sound of my feet, I look down to observe I'm wearing my blue flip flops – quick glance & clothing inventory makes me smile, as even in my haste the flip flops match the blue swoosh in my tank top. Continuing my personal critique I hope no one notices my workout shorts could be less wrinkled.

 

Passing the freezer section, I self-consciously fidget to zip up my sweatshirt; suddenly remembering I didn't take the time to dress in more than… umm peripherals; I carefully arrange the zipper well above my neckline.

 

Walking quickly to the rapid cadence of my thoughts: "just buy the milk, make a deposit, get out the door, coffee's waitin'." A strange external voice interrupts.

"Excuse me; hello?" "Wait a second. Miss… "

Curiously aware that I am being summoned (wonder if I dropped my deposit?); I stop walking, a bit suddenly it seems.

As I turn around, I am practically nose-to-chest with a broad shouldered, 6-foot-something man; whose chest is umm… uncomfortably close to my zipper. I back up out of his personal space, get a view his expression, and wait for a good reason for this pause in my attempt to complete my task while sincerely lacking a latte.

 

I'm now watching his eyes. Although I heard him saying "I don't normally do this; it seems so forward… but I couldn't help noticing how beautiful you are when as you walked in." "Would you like to get a cup of coffee with me?"

My response was a quick thank you for his pleasantly surprising compliment; and a polite decline to the coffee date (don't need caffeine that badly).

 

Now I felt queasy; caffeine deprivation aside… I was going to give myself another overall inventory check; but couldn't noticing this man had already done so (a few times over). Increasingly uncomfortable with his rapid moving eyes roaming my body top to bottom; so frequently now I imagined being on a roller coaster… must be why I'm queasy.

 

He is rather persistent … between the milk, ATM and exiting the store he approaches three times more. Odd, how certain he is that we'd have a fun time, etc. No, really… he put a slip of paper in my hand (with his name/number) and I quickly walked out hearing him say "don't throw it away." Huh?

Is it not safe for me to buy milk alone?? Right about now I'm thinkin' spending the $3.00 at a Starbucks down the street would've worked just fine.

Walking through the parking lot I glance around for my car, and potential stalker, hoping he doesn't drive one of the billion silver SUVs … yikes!!

HonuGirl

Decisions, decisions...

What, not another one?? 

 

I have made a great number of decisions to arrive right here, right now.  Sitting at my age, in this chair, at this computer, with two kids (hopefully sleeping), as I write this blog...   about decisions.

 

Difficult or simple; successful or faulty – each decision has its own private path to present.

 

For instance being a mother consists of a gazillion + 1 decisions.  (Uhhh, starting with becoming one – but I’m not EVEN going there).   Who knew that being a mother would include psychology of the strangest kind, unrealistic curiosity about the simple things, creativity of the culinary kind, the patience of that Old Testament guy, Job {or a good dentist for repairing the ground down enamel on teeth from NOT speaking her mind when there’s so much to say, but nothing uplifting for offspring ears}… AND another thing … why isn’t there a test to prove that she can handle such things prior to making that first decision to ‘become’ a mother.    Huh???

 

 

My experience with avoiding decisions has proven that I don’t like making them.  But, I’ve also learned (from my vast experience in avoidance) that my lack of making a decision still creates a consequence… it’s the opposite of Nike’s “just do it”.  Also it’s the difference between making things happen and watching things happen.  There's always been SOMEone standing nearby who gladly makes the decisions when I hesitate; well, there used to be.  

 

In my lifetime, to say I’ve avoided making more decisions than I’ve made, would be sadly accurate.   

 

Yet.  In the past two years I have made so many decisions my head spins to recall even a few of the small ones – I'm too tired to think of the biggies.

 

 

Today, I made ONE.  A big one – today I started a new path.  

 

 

Okay, well I made more than one; some were less significant than others but still important.  It was a split second deicison made while driving to work:  I chose to skip the latte and drink tea... when I drove past Starbucks {since waiting in the line would make me late for work}. 

 Hmmm… not all decisions are so obvious.

  

This morning I answered a question at work presented by my manager (revisited from Friday) – as I gave him my affirmative answer I watched him step away with a delightful boyish grin.  Who knew?

 

His question:   “internal promotion?”   This means I agreed to take the opportunity to apply for a promotion to child support case manager when he opens the position to internal applicants only.   

 

It may seem obvious to some people that moving up the corporate (or State) ladder is a good move.  But I honestly needed time to think about whether I wanted more.  Yes, more money, but more responsibility, more phone calls, more influence, more opportunities, more … umm, DECISIONS (not more hours – same hours, to that I would easily answer, no!).  

 

 

That was what would hold up my answer.  Decisions.  Do I sell myself short and not apply because it’s more comfortable to avoid – rather than make – decisions.   Maybe this is that time in my life where all roads lead to create the person I was meant to be. 

 

I have always wanted to be a person of influence.  But when it comes to the first step… I teeter on the edge of the foothold and would rather stay uncomfortably on the edge than take that fearful step off to the possibilities of a successful outcome.

 

 

Not today. 

 

Today, along with at least 200 seemingly everyday decisions I made as a Mother (wait they are everyday things) I slid one foot off the edge and took a baby step forward.

 

Now if I can just move the other foot forward tomorrow I might actually enjoy a latte at work!

 

HonuGirl