Healthy Eating = Frequent Peeing

I've been participating in this healthy eating competition with some family and friends.  It's called the "Game On Diet".  You basically eat 5 small meals a day, drink TONS of water, exercise 20 minutes a day, cut out sugars and soda, and talk trash between teams.  Yes, we're on teams.  So if one person messes up, it effects the whole team.  Especially with the holidays just passing, it's nice to eat healthy and be more aware of what I'm shoving in my face.  I feel better when I eat right and eating every 2-4 hours makes sure I'm never really hungry.  But the water......Ahhhhhh!  Dreadful!

Whoever recommended that the human body should intake 2-3 liters of water on a daily basis was surely connected to a catheter.  Either that or he would have apologetically recanted.  I wake up.  I pee.  I eat breakfast.  I pee.  I sneeze.  I pee.  I do dishes.  I pee.  I blink.  I pee. 

Let me introduce you to something I heard about years ago on TV.  It's called the Stadium Pal.

This catheter was invented for hysterical sports fans.  The Stadium Pal straps to the lower leg, the tubing then fishing up the pant leg, remaining hidden from onlookers but creating instant bladder relief.  In turn, sports fans can drink all the beverages they please while watching their game of choice and never leave their seat to take a leak.  True story.  And yes, they really exist and one can be yours for the reasonable price of $29.95.  And, ladies, hold on to your seats.  They have a Stadium Gal as well.  I'm certain it would solve all of your post-birthing needs. 

I'm not gonna lie.  Drinking 3 liters of water is not my walk in the park.  I don't typically like water.  I don't normally drink that much water.  I like to mix it up with a little Diet Coke or Mt. Dew here, some Kool-aid there, a glass of milk, and maybe some water if I'm feeling especially parched.  But no, water is not my beverage of choice.  So for health reasons the Game On has been really good for me to help me break my bad drinking habits.  However, if you choose to increase your water intake whether for something such as the Game On Diet or because you're an obsessively over indulgent lazy sports fan, I would strongly recommend either staying close to a bathroom at all times, or researching the Stadium Pal. 

Memory Box

In all the times we've moved, whether across town or out of town, there are a few boxes and Rubbermaids that get moved but never get opened or unpacked.  These four boxes were found in one of those special forgotten Rubbermaids.  These spectacularly decorated treasures are our Memory Boxes.  Back when I was a cute mom, each new year I would get an old box, let the kids decorate it, and then we would fill it with favorite memories from the previous year and our hopes and dreams for the new year.  We would trace the hands and feet of the little people, record heights and weights (for adults too...vomit!), and throw in some photos of our favorite moments.  If the monkies were feeling especially generous, they would drop a little trinket or toy in the box, never to play with it again, but to be donated for future walks down Memory Lane.

Lil G was only 2 when we put together our first Memory Box.  Her goals were to go to a movie and learn how to go potty.  Hall Monitor was 3 that year.  Some of her goals were to "eat snow", "learn to ride my bike", and "leave mom alone".  As funny as those little goals sound and as much as we laughed at them as we read them earlier this week, I realized that my little Hall Monitor is quickly approaching her teens.  Yikes!  And looking back at that year of her trying to learn how to "leave mom alone", it was most likely because I was overwhelmed with 3 kids and told her to leave me alone.  Ouch!  Not good.  Here comes the motherly guilt.  So in honor of her, I devote this year to her not wanting to leave me alone and me not leaving her alone.  (She's gonna hate me.)  It's time for some serious bonding, whether she wants it or not.  I've gotta kick it in the butt before she's too embarrassed to admit that we're related.

Welcome New Year

Isn't this pretty?

Not so pretty when it's -5 degrees and you're scraping the windows of your mini van with a credit card.  Why a credit card, you ask?  Well, I do own a snow scraper.  It sits beside me on a daily basis as we travel to and fro.  But for those special occasions when Mother Nature doesn't want a thick coat of ice to be bothersome to us little people, that nasty thin coat of ice kicks my trash and just ruins my day.  No ice scraper can compete with that frozen treat.  The ice scraper only catches bits and pieces of it as it scrapes leaving lines in the ice.  It just doesn't work.  Well then, Smarty Pants, turn on your defrost!  Is that what you're thinking now?  (applause)  Not only a genius idea but a no nonsense approach.  Hold up.  Small prob.  My thermostat is out of comission which means no warm air.  In fact, I'm doing cartwheels if I get any warm air at all.  Scientific fact: cold air doesn't melt ice.  Am I annoyed by this?  Not so much anymore.  Sadly, I'm kinda use to it.  But I just keeping telling myself that Caroline Ingles had it worse.  It softens the blow. 

As much as winter drives me crazy on days of credit card ice scraping, frozen car doors and shuffling kids in and out of the driver's seat, and curtains frozen to the inside of the living room window, this picture really makes it worth it.  That is, of course, as long as I'm sitting inside my house wrapped in a Snuggie and sipping hot cocoa.  I love how every single little twig and branch is perfectly coated in white powder.  Amazing!  Do you sense my new attempt at optimism?  It's on my list of resolutions.  So here's to a new year of looking at the good.  Laughing at the ugly.  Surviving the bad.  And enjoying the ride. 

Happy New Year.