She didn’t buy it. I can’t say I blamed her. I hate the dentist myself. But she should’ve had her first dentist appointment ages ago, so I finally sucked it up and made the appointment.

We talked about it a lot ahead of time. I told her that she’d get a prize afterward if she was good – I remembered that her cousin’s dentist had a treasure chest of prizes to choose from, and I assumed that our pediatric dentist would be similarly hooked up. And then afterward, we’d go out for a special Mommy & Catie lunch, just the two of us, and then she could go to daycare and tell all the kids about her exciting morning. She seemed sort of cautiously ok with that plan.

I have to say, I think we had the nicest dental hygienist on earth, and I will praise them to the skies just for this one lady alone. She was great with Catie, showed her all of her tools ahead of time and explained what each one did and reassured her that nothing was going to hurt. I kept waiting for Catie’s freak-out, and it never happened. She lay down in the chair, she wore the little light-blocking sunglasses, she opened her mouth like a good little patient, and she giggled through most of the appointment. To say that I was shocked would be an understatement.

The hygienist did her thing, the dentist checked her out and said she looked great, and they sent us on our way. And that’s the one part of the trip where things started to fall apart. Catie wanted to see the prize chest. There wasn’t one. There were some dinky 10-cent plastic rings and some funny pencils, but that was about it. Catie was not happy. I whispered to her to just say “no thank you” and that I’d take her to the store to get a prize when we left. I mean, seriously, it’s my own fault for talking up the prize aspect so much, I felt like I had to follow through on my end of the bargain.

There’s a Wal-Mart down the street from the dentist’s office. We headed over there, made a beeline for the exact toy that I knew Catie wanted (for those of you who’ve seen Toy Story 3, she’s been asking for Buttercup, the unicorn, ever since we saw the movie), and I bought it for her on the spot.

I love this picture of her because she was trying to show off both her unicorn and her “pretty white teeth!”, but the lighting is horrible because the sun was behind her & the iPhone doesn’t have a flash. Sigh.

Then, since she’d asked for pizza for our Special Mommy & Catie Lunch Date, I saw that there was a pizzeria a couple of doors down from Wal-Mart. We walked over, bought 2 slices, and had a lovely lunch.

She was so excited to go to daycare afterward to tell all the kids about the dentist. I tell you, that girl never ceases to amaze me.

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Total non-sequitur conversation in the parking lot after her dentist visit. (This doesn’t relate to anything, I just think it’s hilarious.)

Me: …blah-blah-blah’ing about what a good job she did and how brave she was and how I’m so, so proud of her…

Catie: Yeah. [pause] Pop-Pop is my friend.

Me: [kind of thrown by the change of topic, but ooookay] Yes, sweetie, Pop-Pop is your friend, and he loves you very, very much.

Catie: Pop-Pop and Mimi are gonna come to our house.

Me: Well, I hope they can come to our house for a visit soon. That’d be nice. And you know, hopefully soon, they’ll sell their house in Mississippi and move up here, and then we’ll be able to see them a lot more often. That’ll be great when that happens, huh?

Catie: Yeah! Maybe we can share with them!

Me: [confused] Share what with them, babe?

Catie: We can share our house with them!

Me: [thinking: yeah, except then your Daddy will divorce me] Well, you know, sweetie, Mimi & Pop-Pop have a lot of stuff, and I don’t think all their stuff would fit into our house with all of our stuff, so they probably need to have their own house.

Catie: Oh. Ok.

Hopefully that’ll settle the issue of my parents moving in with us, because as much as I love them, and I really really do… no. Just no.

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And it’s weird, I like them both for different reasons. With running, I get this weird sort of endorphin head rush of, “f*ck yeah, I’m a RUNNER, man. I’m strong! I’m empowered! I can conquer ANYTHING in the WORLD!” So, apparently running gives me delusions of grandeur, because seriously, all I did was run barely 2 miles. We’re hardly talking Marathon Woman over here. But whatever, it’s fun.

Meanwhile, with the Shred, I don’t necessarily get the same rush, but I feel sore all over afterward, which I like because then I feel like, “ooh, I’m toning up these muscles, and these, and these…” So they each have their own perks.

Last night, I did the Shred after Catie got home from daycare, but before dinner. Catie said she wanted to work out with me, so she grabbed my 1-pound weights and jumped in (I’ve upgraded to the 5-pound weights, which make the workout infinitely harder). It’s hilarious because she doesn’t really do any of the moves correctly, but she was so excited that she was doing it with me, and she kept saying, “Mommy, look at me! Look at me!” It actually made the workout harder because I couldn’t stop laughing.

It’s funny, she’s done the Shred with me a few times, but she doesn’t really have the attention span to do the whole video. She does the warm-up, then she wanders off to play with her toys, then she sees me doing something that she thinks looks like fun (i.e., what Jillian calls “squat thrusts” and what Catie calls “frog jumps” – I think Catie’s term is probably more accurate), and she’ll run back over and join in again for a couple of minutes, then she’s off and playing again. Lather rinse repeat.

But last night, when she first got home from daycare & I was putting on my workout clothes, I told her I was going to work out, and she said, “Why you do that?” I have been VERY careful about not saying anything disparaging about my body in front of her, because I don’t want her to take on any of my body image issues as her own. In fact, when she’s jumping around doing the Shred with me, I get really annoyed with Jillian Michaels for talking about burning fat and losing weight – like, SHUT UP, I don’t want those thoughts getting into her head.

So when she asked me, “Why you do that?” I paused for a second to think about it. And I said, “Well, you know how we eat healthy foods like fruits and vegetables so we’ll be healthy and strong? I exercise for the same reason. I need to be strong, so that I can still pick you up and carry you, even now that you’re a big girl.”

She seemed to like that answer. She said, “Yeah, and I am getting sooo big! Right, Mommy?” I agreed with her, and I was feeling all proud of myself and sort of smug, like haha, take THAT, stupid American standards that beauty = thinness! Boo-yah!

Then Catie continued: “Yeah, Mommy. And you getting HUGE!”

Nice. Thanks a lot, kid. Jeez.

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I noticed a lot of people did Father’s Day posts, and I felt bad that it didn’t even occur to me. So, happy late Father’s Day to Dave. Catie and I love you to pieces.

I have to say, Sunday was a pretty great day. To celebrate Father’s Day, we went out for breakfast (IHOP, yum), then Dave went home to chill out and have some downtime while I took Catie out to run errands with me. We went to Best Buy to buy Dave’s Father’s Day gift, then we hit Toys R Us to look for a “Slinky Dog” toy from Toy Story. Catie had filled up her reward chart and she said that was the thing she wanted (actually, no, she said she “needed” a Slinky Dog). Of course, Toys R Us was sold out, and I worried she’d have a huge meltdown, so I said, “Hey, they’re out of Slinky Dog here, so let’s go see if another store has it. Come on!” And she… my child… left Toys R Us willingly and without a meltdown. I couldn’t believe it. Reward charts FTW!

Also? Thank the heavens above for Wal-Mart (something I never thought I’d say), because we got the LAST Slinky Dog on the shelf. Catie was so happy that she was an angel for the rest of the day.

We got groceries, brought them home, and then since Catie was too hyper to nap, she came back out with me again to shop for new workout clothes. She sat patiently in the dressing room and told me if she did or didn’t like the clothes I had tried on. (I was only supposed to be looking for workout clothes, but I actually thought this dress looked kind of cute on me and I was thinking about getting it for BlogHer, but Catie said, “No, Mommy. Try something else.” Thanks, kiddo! Way to keep me focused on the task at hand.) It was awesome. We wandered all over the mall and she was the best shopping buddy I could’ve asked for.

And Dave got to play video games all day and take a nap, so I think it was a pretty great Father’s Day for him too.

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In the category of exercise/fitness stuff: A little over a week ago, I ran 20 minutes without stopping for the first time in my life. And it was awesome. But since then, my workouts have been feeling progressively more difficult. On Saturday I tried to run 25 minutes without stopping (which, yeah, that’s hard, but I ran 20 minutes, right? So not THAT much harder!) and I had to stop to catch my breath around minute 15. Ok, no big deal. Then I tried to do that 25-minute run again yesterday and I had to stop to catch my breath 4 different times. WTF? Then this morning I woke up with a nasty cough. Ah, allergies, you evil b*tch. That probably explains my diminished lung capacity. I guess I should maybe pop an extra antihistamine an hour or so before my workout.

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I made these brownies (thanks, Grace!), which sound horrifying, but are actually pretty good. Only, um, the combination of ingredients does lead to some, *ahem*, digestive issues. Let’s just leave it at that, ok? But they ARE yummy and a lot healthier than regular brownies, so… ? Judge for yourself, I suppose. They really taste nothing like the ingredients would have you think.

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I signed Catie up for swimming lessons at the YMCA (our gym), and the classes start in mid-July. But every time we talk about it, she says, “Noooooo! I can’t want to go swimming!” She won’t go to the neighborhood pool with me on the weekends, she won’t wear her swimsuit to daycare on “Water Play Day” (which is basically just playing in the sprinklers, they don’t have a pool). She is terrified of all things water-related, except the bathtub, and she’s not even a big fan of that.

So, I was thinking about withdrawing her from swimming lessons this year. There’s a bunch of kids on the wait list who I know would be happy to take her place, and I haven’t paid for it yet so I won’t lose any money. I’m just not sure if it’s worth putting her through it when she’s clearly so scared and unwilling to try it. Maybe we could try it next year and it’d be easier for her. I do think that learning to swim is one of those basic survival skills that everyone needs. I’m just not sure if she needs it at 3 years old. If any of y’all have any opinions on this, I’d love to hear them. I honestly don’t know what to do.

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My attitude for the longest time has been, “We’ll have another kid if we’re supposed to have another kid. And if we don’t, then I guess we’re lucky that the one we have is pretty freaking awesome.”

Then something changed. I don’t know exactly what. It could be that I’m barreling down on 35 (“advanced maternal age,” oh no!), or because I realized that Catie will be at least 4 years old by the time we have another baby, or because I suddenly know so. many. people. who are having babies. (Seriously, those are just 3 examples. There’s also at least 2 girls I know from high school who are pregnant right now, and a few other people I know who have had babies in the past 6 months.)

Suddenly, I was hearing about all of these friends of mine being pregnant, and I felt… jealous?

So, for the past couple of months, I’ve been focusing more attention on trying to get pregnant. I’m even considering charting my cycle, since that worked last time. (Funny: I just went looking through my blog archives to see if I could find a post where I talked about charting my cycle, and all I could find was whiny “this isn’t working & I don’t think I’m even ovulating and I’ll never get pregnant, boo hoo!” stuff. Spoiler: I got pregnant the next month.)

And that sort of relates to my recent exercise obsession. See, for those of you who don’t already know this, the last time I was pregnant? Was bad. I got really, really sick during my 3rd trimester, and no one could figure out what was wrong with me. But I lost all of my pregnancy weight while I was still pregnant – which, for the record, is not the ideal weight-loss solution. I mostly lost muscle, not fat. By the time Catie was born, I was so weak that I could barely hold her. It took a long, long time for me to feel “normal” again, energy-wise.

So, this crazy need to work out every day and build my endurance as quickly as possible? A large part of it is because I want to make sure that if/when I get pregnant, I’m starting at a healthier baseline than last time. So if I get sick again, it hopefully won’t have quite such detrimental effects on my health.

We’ll see how it goes. And in the meantime, if any of y’all want to throw out a little “get Cindy knocked up” prayer or thought, I sure wouldn’t mind.

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My current plan is this:
1. Weight Watchers to keep the calories in check.
2. The couch-to-5K plan.
3. Other workouts (typically the 30-Day Shred, or maybe yoga if my knees are hurting) on the days when I’m not running.

And so far, it’s going ok. I’ve only lost 6 pounds, which is not much to brag about, but I also haven’t really been pushing the whole diet side of it as much as I should. I’m working on that. I can’t do sudden major changes if I expect to maintain it long-term.

But there have been these changes that I’m seeing in my body that are sort of strange. My shoulders have more definition. My arms have a bump on them that I think might possibly be the curve of a muscle under there, although I suppose it’s possible that I have matching symmetrical tumors or something. I’m also getting these… dents, I guess?… on my stomach. It’s not exactly like I have abs, per se, because there’s still a big ol’ layer of fat on top. But there’s definitely some sort of muscle underneath all that.

So, it’s weird. I’m still in my size 14 jeans, and the number on the scale is still uncomfortably high for me, but I really like all of these little changes that I’m noticing in myself. Which is motivation to keep it up, I guess. I love that I feel stronger, even if it isn’t necessarily visually obvious yet.

Oh, and about the couch-to-5k? I wish someone had warned me that things go crazy once you get to week 5. I had gotten pretty good at running the 5-minute intervals, but then it suddenly jumped to 8-minute intervals, which almost killed me. Then I see that for my next run (which is, um, later today), I’m supposed to run 20 minutes without stopping. TWENTY. MINUTES. When I first saw that, my initial reaction was to balk. There’s no way I can do that! Are they insane?

But then, this tiny little thought popped up the back of my head: “…but what if I can do it?” I have no idea where that came from, this notion that I need to challenge myself to do something more physically strenuous than I’ve ever done in my 34 years on this planet. It was sort of strange, because it’s totally out of character for me. But I think I might give this whole 20-minute run a shot. This weekend, not today. I’m really sore from doing level 2 of the 30-Day Shred last night, so I’m just doing to do another 8-minute run interval today.

P.S. Don’t tell me “You gave birth, you can do it!” Catie weighed less than six pounds AND I had drugs. It almost doesn’t even count. Plus I only had to push for 14 minutes to get her out. Not 20.

P.S.S. Dave just started working out this week, but he’s been eating healthier with me for the past couple of months. He’s dropped over 25 pounds already. The male metabolism is so freaking unfair.

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I have always been somewhat under-endowed in the boob department. I technically wear a B cup, but I don’t fill it out all the way. I’m pretty sure that if you yelled into my bra, you’d hear an echo. Last month, my girls over at Room 704 did a “boob collage” photo (don’t get excited, it’s just cleavage, it doesn’t involve nudity). And I realized that I couldn’t participate because the only way I can get cleavage is if I put on a push-up bra, lean waaaay over, and then squeeze my boobs together with one hand and take the picture with the other hand. It’s just too damn much work.

The funny thing is that if you met me, you might not know just how tiny my girls are, because I only own super-padded push-up bras. They make me feel a little more equally-distributed. I’ve told Dave (numerous times) that as soon as we’re done having kids, I am getting the Mommy Lift, and I do not feel even slightly guilty or anti-feminist by admitting that I want plastic surgery. I don’t give a flip what society thinks I should look like, I just want to like what I see when I look in the mirror.

But I had whole new revelation of embarrassment about my boobs last night. I’ve been doing this couch-to-5K thing for over two months now, and one thing that’s always bothered me is how much my chest hurts when I run. It feels like I have a big rock in each of my lungs. The weird thing is that I never get that sensation when I do the 30-Day Shred, even though I’m breathing just as hard during that workout. I figured that maybe it was the difference between being inside versus outdoors – our house is air-conditioned, but there are allergens in the air outside, that kind of thing.

Last night, though, I went for a run and I didn’t have the lung pain at all. Weird, right? I realized during my second run interval, though, that I forgot to put my falsies in my sports bra. I never use them at home (i.e., when I’m doing the Shred), but if I’m going for a run or going to the gym, I use them because otherwise my sports bra flattens me out so much that I look like a 12 year-old boy. Or rather, a 12 year-old boy with a muffin top. Which is kind of disturbing.

So, apparently the source of my chest pain was NOT due to being out of shape, but because I essentially turned my sports bra into a tourniquet that was putting extra pressure on my chest. Brilliant.

If you need me today, I’ll be shopping for a pre-padded sports bra. And I guess I’ll leave my bra inserts for Catie to play with. She loves them – she calls them “Mommy’s Boobs” and likes to run around holding them on the sides of her head like Princess Leia hairbuns. She also likes to take my black Wonderbra and wear it on her head because it makes her look like she has Minnie Mouse ears. Strange kid, but you have to give her points for creativity.

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I’ve always thought that I know what diet I need to do to lose weight: low-carb works for me. Back in the old days (read: before I had a kid), I could just chuck all the bread, cookies, chips, and other starches from my pantry and I’d guarantee to drop a few pounds quickly. (The problem, before my gastric bypass, was that would be all I’d lose – a few pounds. That was all I could ever lose on any diet or exercise plan. Which is sort of frustrating when you need to lose 100+ pounds.)

In the last couple of years, I’ve tried to do a low-carb diet again on several occasions. And the longest I’ve ever managed to stick to it is about two weeks, tops. I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me. I used to be really good at sticking to diets. I never cheated, ever, and I always stuck to the plan. What the hell changed?

Oh, that’s right, I had a kid. Who eats carbs for roughly 90% of her caloric intake. So I can’t get rid of all the bread and crackers and other carb-y snacks. My old trick of “just don’t have it in the house and you’ll be fine” no longer applies.

I had to find a new diet, one that would allow me to have carbs on occasion. Which is why I signed up for Weight Watchers Online. I am far too lazy to go to Weight Watchers meetings, and I kind of have a weird aversion to that whole support group environment anyway (don’t ask me why). But the online plan has a lot of information, and the whole “points” system is actually not as horrible as I originally thought. (There’s even an iPhone app so I can track my points while I’m out. Very nice. I guess they had to compete with the “LoseIt!” app.)

I’ve been on it for a week now, and I like it. I’ve also lost 5 pounds – I don’t expect to maintain that rate; in my experience, I always lose a lot of weight at first (because of the shock to your system, I guess) and then it slooooows down. Still, I’m not going to complain about 5 pounds. It’s a good start. And I still get to eat little sweets here and there, and I don’t have to feel like I’m cheating – or more specifically like, “oh well, I’ve blown it, might as well pig out now.” I just allow for those points out of my daily allotment, and I move on.

So, it’s good so far. We’ll see how it goes. I’m cautiously optimistic.

On the exercise front, I’m still working out most days. I typically either do the 30-Day Shred or the Couch-to-5K workout. But I think I have to give Jillian Michaels credit for massively increasing my endurance. I’d been stuck on week 3 of the couch-to-5K program for weeks, because no matter how hard I tried, I physically could not run for more than 3 minutes straight. I tried week 4 a few times, but I could never do those 5-minute run intervals. But this week, I finally did it. I ran for 5 minutes straight without stopping. FOR THE FIRST TIME IN MY LIFE. And I know, I know, 5 minutes, whoopee. But trust me, it was a very big deal for me.

Yesterday I decided to mix it up and take Catie for a bike ride to the playground (meaning me on the bike, her in the bike trailer). And you know what? I know that this might cast a shadow of doubt on my genetic connection to some people in my family, but I haaaaate riding a bike. Seriously. I absolutely can’t stand it. I would so much rather walk (or run), I can’t even tell you. And because of my funky patella issues, it hurts my knees just as much as running. Plus, even though I invested in the super-cushioned gel/padded seat, it also hurts my girly bits. So what’s the point of THAT? No. Not a fan of the bike at all. I think I just like to have my feet on the ground.

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