PractiGal

I demand a refund!

... or at least a different fortune.

Found inside my fortune cookie:  If you're still hungry, have another fortune cookie.

Can they pull it off?

"I didn't know they let werewolves in here." 

That's the quiet comment I hear shortly after getting into the pool. I spin around and even without my glasses, it's easy to spot the back of the man in question.

Wow. That'd be a bummer.

But what's a guy to do?

Swimmers shave. And of course there's always...

WAX.

Egad. I can't imagine. I think I cried the one time I waxed my upper lip.

An entire back? No thanks.

And would men really go to have that done?

After family swim time, we hang out at home, and I flip through some Sunday newspaper ads and the USA Weekend section.

Well, what do you know -- there's an article on grooming, subtitled "Waxing gains fans at men's salons."  How about that? At one men's salon, they call it "body finishing" and it's one of their most popular services. You can watch a game on TV and enjoy a cold brew while you're pampered. Guys can get their eyebrows done for $14. And the back? For $38.

I don't know. Remembering the man I saw in the pool today, I'm thinking that would be more than $38 worth of pain. Not that pain and price tag should be proportional, but it would take an awful lot of time and wax to remove the covering I saw today.

Do men really do this? Male readers -- would you? Have you?

Ladies, would your man do this? Valentine's Day is coming up, if you're looking for a gift idea...

Me? I'm pretty sure my husband would rather have his toenails removed one at a time than go to a salon for a paraffin hand dip or back waxing.

They Talk, I Listen -- Or not

With a flexible work-from-home job, I sometimes take trips to the gym during the day while others are at the office.  It's not as busy then, as it is in the evening, and I don't have to wait to use my favorite machines.

And I've discovered that there's another benefit to using the gym while everyone else is at work. Daytime talk TV.  I plug in my headphones and watch a little of this, a little of that... while I pedal the bike or walk the treadmill. Having something fun to watch on TV distracts me from what might otherwise be a monotonous cardio workout. Yeah, music's good, but there's something about TV.  I get caught up in it, and before I know it, I've pedaled for 25 minutes.

So, after catching a few minutes of various shows in the past couple of weeks, I thought I'd share my take on the daytime talk circuit. In case you find yourself with the clicker in-hand and don't know where to go...

The Greg Behrendt Show -- Of "He's Just Not That Into You" fame, Greg seems like a cool guy. With wild hair. And mega high energy. Mega. If you can figure out how to bottle and sell that, you'll be onto something, Greg. The segment I caught was reasonably interesting, in a head-scratching sort of way -- it featured a lonely, desperate woman who stalks the men she dates. And doesn't understand why they don't call her again. Don't know how long this show has been on, but I'd think the theme would get stale after awhile. Maybe not. Maybe there are enough people out there who need to be told how not to totally screw up a potential relationship.

Dr. Keith reminded me a bit of Dr. Phil. I didn't know about him before catching a bit of his show.   He's a noted psychiatrist, very articulate, intense, and intelligent. And bald. Not that that matters, but he and Phil have that in common. Watching him just made me wonder -- why TV?

Apparently I've been living under a rock because I've only just recently paused the clicker on The View. I know it's been on TV for a long time. It's not something I could watch regularly, and the reason is simple. Rosie. I find her completely irritating -- mannerisms and personality. I don't understand her popularity. Even back before The View, when she had her own show, I didn't know why she had a following. To me, it's always seemed that she's frozen in time -- at maybe middle school age. If it weren't for her, I could see tuning in to hear the ladies talk now and then.

Rachael Ray -- I like Rachael. I know her perkiness annoys some people, but she just seems like a regular person to me. I like that about her. I've also picked up tips from watching her prepare food -- like how to chop an onion. It is a little strange to see her face on every other box in the grocery store though. OK, so maybe it's just Nabisco products, but it's kind of... well, odd.

Martha Stewart -- I caught a segment of the convicted (rehabilitated?) felon's TV show, and I enjoyed the tips she wove in while visiting with her guest and cooking. In fact, I learned a good way to clean a wooden cutting board! The whole cooking / talk show thing is an interesting concept to me. Something interesting to watch, while you listen to conversation of the non-food variety. It works for me. Double the distraction while I exercise! I like that.

Dr. Phil - I've always been a fan of Phil's. Though I must say I preferred him when he was a regular on Oprah. I think he was a lot tougher then. I understand that he's had to soften his style for wider appeal, but I think he's lost his edge by doing that.

Oprah -- I don't know how to say this. I think Oprah's an amazing philanthropist. But as a talk show host? Is it just me, or has her rise to Diva-hood put her out of touch with regular folk? I subscribed to her magazine when it first came out, but it seemed like you needed to walk in a certain circle, which I don't, to relate to some of the articles, lists, and such. I still tune in if a guest is of interest to me, but I'm not so into her these days. She does so much that's good, I could never not like her though.

Ellen -- Ellen rocks. I can't believe I've only just found her talk show. Ellen is hilarious. From what little I've seen, her show just seems like good clean fun. No apparent axe to grind, no high society undertones, no I-Am-Woman-Hear-Me-Roar. Just old-fashioned fun. I like it. And I love exercising when her show is on. She makes me laugh. A lot. And that makes for a very upbeat workout.

Do you ever catch any daytime talk TV? What do you like? What about outside the US -- what's good?

It's actually winter now!

Life is hectic all of the sudden...  with work...  stuff...

But not too hectic to put the camera down. While other parts of the country have had winter weather for a while, it's only just begun here.

I like all the rectangles in this shot.

What's wrong with this formula?

It'll be 20 years this May since my college graduation. 20 years. Wow.

Anyway, I was excited to receive an e-mail link to my college math department's annual newsletter recently. My school was a big math school, and a lot of my friends (hi roomie! and sis!) were math majors, too. So hearing from the department feels kind of like hearing from family. Well, except that I don't know any of the professors anymore. Except the ones who have scholarships in their names or emeritus in their titles.  Yeah, what a difference two decades make! But, I digress... Even so, it's like a connection to "family."

I clicked around the various links of the newsletter, looking at pictures of people I don't know, and reading about things I haven't thought of in many years. When I saw the link for missing alumni, I had to look. Maybe someone I know would be on the list. A walk down memory lane...

So I look, and there are just a handful of missing people from my year, including...  ME!

But, wait a sec. I just got this e-mail. So, I'm not missing. They even had my old last name and my married name in my listing, so I've obviously been in touch with them.

Ohhhh! I get it! They don't have my credit card number on file.

Battle for the bowl

It's an all-too common scene.

I smell a noxious odor and march my son upstairs for a clean diaper. I don't even bother with a peek or a pat-the-bum check, because I'm that certain of what's happened. We get upstairs, and I discover that it was a false alarm.

So today, I say, "No poopie? Just gas?"

"Yes," he says. "Just gaaaaas."  (Which he says with a Scandinavian-esque accent.)

Well, OK.  That happens.

As long as we're upstairs, I realize that I have business to take care of in the bathroom. But as soon as I head for the seat, the little guy scurries in, "No! No! It's MY turn! MY turn! I use the toilet."

Well.

Stop the presses! The Red Sea has parted.

Maybe.

Figuring I can hold off while this potentially momentous occasion takes place, I step aside. He puts his padded toilet seat ring in place and climbs onto the throne.  I offer to take his diaper off, and he likes the idea.

Alright. Here we go! He HAS to go. And WILL go soon. That kind of gas only precedes the real deal with him. Could it be -- the moon, the planets and stars have aligned just so, to make this actually HAPPEN?

Mind you, we sit on the potty. And by we, I mean my son. He likes to sit there. For a fleeting moment here and there. He likes to tear off a little paper and flush it down the bowl and say goodbye to it.

Quickly, I think of all the things I've read on the subject of getting your child to go on the pot. I plan to grab a good-sized book and read to him, so that maybe, just MAYBE he'll stay seated long enough for the toilet to be used for its intended purpose.

Then, in a flurry, he sits, he tears paper, he waves it in the direction of his back side before quickly dropping it in the bowl and standing up to flush. And he begins to get down from the potty.

"NO! Sit down!" I say. "Let's sit and read a book!"

NO!

He runs off, sans diaper. I chase him, knowing very well what's just on the horizon for that little moon.

"Well, if you're not going to sit on the potty, you need to have a diaper," I warn.

"No! No! I want my toys!"

I tackle him and quickly strap on a diaper.

Then I head back to the bathroom to take care of my own business, which I realize can wait no longer.

He follows me. "My turn! My turn! I want to sit on the potty! Mommy! It's MY TURN!"

Um. No. It's my turn.

He pulls my hand with all his strength, his little face turning red.  He finally runs away to have a full-fledged tantrum on his own. I close the door to deaden the sound of his screaming just a bit.

When I return to his room, he's fine -- post-tantrum. Playing and reading.

And, of course, he sits there with a very full stinky diaper.

So close. SOOOOO close.

Sigh.

Chillin

We're having a bit  of an ice storm in NY.  It's very pretty! But I'm not one of the ones who's lost power -- it probably wouldn't seem as pretty if we didn't have power. Here's my lilac  bush... and my two clotheslines.

Raising boys

When we had a hunch we were going to have a boy, I quietly freaked out. "What do I know about little boys? I come from a family of girls!" I thought.

I know all about dolls and playing house, and giggling. And musical theater.

Physical play? Not so much.

Unless you count jumping rope and freeze tag.

Turns out I love having a boy. Love. It. My little boy is a character. So much fun. And into any and all kinds of vehicles. And it turns out, so am I. In fact, if I need to blame anyone for all the Matchbox cars all over the living room carpeting, it'd have to be me. I seem to pick them up wherever I go, because they make so many damn cool little cars and trucks (and airplanes!). How can I resist?

But back to the rough play. I only remember one trip to the emergency room as a kid -- after my older sister launched me from her feet into the air and I fell in the grass on my hand, breaking my wrist at age 5.

But boys? They do stuff like that all the time, right? I panicked to myself.

Knock on wood... so far it hasn't been bad. Of course, our son isn't even 3 yet. There's lots of running around and climbing on things. And parents. We've had some fat lips (mine and his) and what I feared was a broken nose (mine), but no trips to the ER, yet. Again. Knock on wood!

I follow the blogs of Moms of multiple boys, and I have to say, I feel like I'm living on borrowed time. Bruised eyes, broken collar bones, bloody lips, and on and on... Regular trips to the Emergency Room. They probably keep an ER bag in the car.

Last week I got this catalog in the mail and cracked up at the sight of this baby bumper bonnet.

But you know, I've been thinking about it, and well... maybe it's not such a bad idea. Monk says his parents kept him in a helmet throughout his childhood (but then again, he also says he wasn't born by Cesarean, but he was raised Cesarean -- I love that!).

However, this contraption is sized for tots up to age 3. How about one for up to age 10? or 18? And how about a parent version? I seem to be my son's favorite playmate these days, and well, I could stand a little head cushioning. And a face guard.

 

Phase One of Project Sugar Detox

So I've been reading this book, toward my goal of eating the right foods for feeling good. I'm making some gradual changes and am going to record the results here, both for my reference, and in case anyone out there is curious about this plan. I have some other books I'm reading about serotonin, too, and will mention what I'm learning there too.

I'm nowhere near being "off sugar," but with just a few changes to my routine, I'm noticing some very good results.

First off, in The Sugar Addict's Total Recovery Program, the author details seven steps toward a better life for sugar junkies like me. The first step is to eat breakfast with protein. I've been a cereal-with-fruit girl for years, with heartier breakfasts on the weekends. This has been a big shift for me. My cereal is healthy & has some protein, but not 1/3 of what I should be getting in a day.

(The author suggests shooting for approximately half your body weight in the number of protein grams per day -- so if your ideal weight is 120 (I wish!), shoot for 60 grams of protein per day, and divide them among 3 meals.) 

So I've switched to eggs (1 whole egg / 2 egg whites), with toast for breakfast, and just that one  change has made a big difference. I don't have the urge to snack before lunch, and I feel really good in the morning, which is my best time of day anyway. I'm also working on making sure I get enough protein for lunch and dinner, which I don't always do.

One of the later steps on this plan is to incorporate vitamins C, B-complex, and zinc into your diet. Since my daily multi-vitamin doesn't have the amount of C and Bs recommended, I've added supplements.

I haven't started the food journaling, but I will say that one day this week I had a good-sized candy bar after lunch and was completely zonked and feeling lousy by late afternoon. That mental note has stayed with me!

Along with the dietary changes, I've been making an effort to get to the gym a few times each week, where I've been using the cardio equipment and using a circuit of machines.  I absolutely love using the machines. There's one that focuses on the lower back, and I positively adore this machine. I've had lower back pain for almost 3 years, and have woken up with back pain nearly every day since my son's birth. The day after using this machine for the first time, I got out of bed with no back pain. I am sold! That machine alone is incentive for me to get my butt out the door and to the gym!

And one more thing. My usual monthly bout of PMS? Did not happen this time. Maybe others who live with me would say otherwise, but I didn't notice the usual nasty changes to my mood and the ravenous binging on sweets that I typically experience every few weeks.  Of course I've made a bunch of changes all at once, so there's no way to know if there's a particular change that's responsible for that. It may be the combination of changes. But whatever the cause, I am thrilled with that result!

More updates as I continue with this plan...

Anyone out there doing something similar?  Leave me a comment or drop me an e-mail!

Quotes for the archives

A scene in progress, Chez PractiGal, in the restroom facility (because so many great conversations happen there -- it's not like I have any privacy)...

..."But Mommy, you forgot to tuck in your penis!"*

Honey, I'm a woman, women don't ha...

"But you're NOT a woman!"  (This is a persistent theme at our house this week.)

I'm not? What am I?

"You're a Mommy!"

Well, women and Mommies don't have penises, honey. Just boys and men do.

(...He walks away mumbling something...)

What's that, honey?

"I OK. I stop whining now."

Oh. OK.

[*This is funny for the obvious reason, and no, there was nothing in the vicinity resembling the male anatomy near me. Plus, while we haven't started potty training, our son does like to sit on the potty now and then & pretend to use it. I've taught him to tuck his penis between his legs when he sits down, and he always comments that he's doing so, though he never actually does!  I guess it's good that he remembers the concept though! Some day it'll all come together for him in a big lightbulb moment....

And as for the whining comment, I had to laugh. I do ask him calmly not to whine and explain that it's hard to understand what he's saying when he's whining. Good to know he's listening!]
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A young lad with slouched socks approaches me...

"Mommy, can you please tie my socks?"