Where are they now?

I have a guilty pleasure.  Actually, I have several.  But one that I'm willing to share is the Biggest Loser.  I've watched at least parts of every season since it debuted in 2004 with Caroline Rhea as the host.  Bob and Jillian were the trainers, even back then.  There's now a new host (Alison Sweeney), and there've been several other trainers who have tried their hands at melting pounds off dangerously obese contestants, and I've been along for the ride all the way.  I joke that I secretly want to be on the show.  I know that in order to do so, I'd have to gain at least 100 pounds, which has thus far deterred me.  I'll admit that I got close while pregnant with Bubba, but I have a feeling that they wouldn't let a pregnant contestant on.

When I married Ben, I kind of sucked him into my world of Biggest Loserdom.  Often, he'd actually be at the gym while it was on, and he'd only get home in time for the weigh-in and vote-off.  But he's coming around to my way of thinking:  enjoy a bowl of ice cream and watch Bob and Jillian reduce grown men to tears and/or puking on a treadmill. 

One day, a few months after we were married, my daughter happened into the living room while the show was on and stated very matter of factly that one of the contestants looked like someone we know.  Ben and I held it together until Scooter had left the room before erupting into explosive laughter.  And even though (or maybe because) this contestant was a constant schemer with an almost sociopathic personality, we still delight in the comparison today.

Vicky ended up losing 101 pounds.  By the end of the show, she really did look like someone we know...Actually, she looked better.

That was over two years ago.  Now...?? I have no idea what the real Vicky looks like.  But I can estimate what our Vicky will look like next year:

How can I say such mean things, you ask?  Scooter and I skyped last night.  She showed me a number of things including "Vicky's" pre-natal vitamins...

Only the Poorest will Survive...

Sound like a tag line for a new TV reality show?  It's my life right now, and apparently, it's no surprise to at least one person.  My daughter has always had a knack for knowing what the future will hold.  When she was very small, she twice predicted that the back end of my car would whip out from under us.  This fall, it seems, she predicted our current financial situation.

Back in October, when it was still nice enough to ride bikes outside and she had few other toys left in the house, she'd make signs.  Some were her asking to go outside.  "Outside, please?  NOW?!"  is one that comes to mind.  But she'd also make signs for other sorts of play.  One such sign read, "I don't have a home.  Put your money in the bucket."  Simultaneously hilarious and so sad.  Another read, "Only the poorest will survive."  Which brings to mind so many questions about what, exactly, was going on in her head when she was making those signs.  Is there some deeper psychological statement being made, or was it just silly 7 year old sign making?  I remember writing some ridiculous statements at that age. I still write some pretty silly things.

If it was a portent, I have hope.  We will suruvive. 

Day 6? It's hard to tell at this point...

My boy has a bit of a stubborn streak.  If he feels like it, he'll forego all things that he loves to make a point:  He does not want to eat what we want him to eat.  He'll skip cookies, he'll skip his binky, he'll even give up bath and cuddle time.  Such was his fate Saturday night.  No dinner. Not one bite.  But I think we had a break through last night.  It might have been a mistake on our part...

Bubba asked for pizza for dinner.  It was kind of a catch-all dinner (as we cooked chicken spanish stew and chili and also had some pizza leftover from this weekend), so each person got to choose what we ate.  Except after the pizza was warmed up and ready to go, he refused to eat it.  There was a pile of cookies on the counter that Ben had baked earlier.  Bubba decided he wanted crackers, juice and cookies for dinner.  Yeah, sounds great.  After pizza.  No pizza?  No cookies.  Crushed, he sat in his seat for a long time.  Long enough to almost finish his juice and spill the rest over his pizza.  "Soggy pizza, Mom.  I can't eat that," he seemed to plead with his eyes.  "No pizza?  No cookies," was the reply.  Poor little man.  I sat with him in the kitchen reading my book.

He ended up eating his soggy pizza.  What a trooper!  His enthusiasm earned him 2 cookies (they were small).  After that, he was all sugar rush crazy.  He had a bath, which can usually act to calm him down.  It had the opposite effect last night.  He scurried around the apartment, chatting nonsensically, tossing a ball into the air, playing piano, talking non stop.  What happened?  Cookies, even an hour and a half before bed, produced unpredictable results.  We finally got him into bed, where he tossed, turned, talked and sang until he finally drifted off to sleep. 

And you know what?  That boy slept all night.  Again.  It was wonderful. 

Day 3: I'm tired

Bubba ate the dinner of his life last night.  Yum!  Ben made cookies while dinner was in the works.  Bubba couldn't take his eyes (or hands) off them.  But the rule was:  1st eat a good dinner, THEN you may have a cookie (or two...or three...or...).  It didn't start out well when Bubba decided that he hates celery.  But after eating 4 carrots and a monster amount of spaghetti sauce and tortellini as well as 2 glasses of milk, cookies were had by all.  And they were delicious.

He got a little wild after dinner (and he weighed at least 1/2 pound more), and then he went to bed.  When Ben and I went to bed, I warned Ben that he might need earplugs.  Call it mother's intuition, but really, I heard him flopping around in there.  I knew he'd be up.  At 2:30, my prediction came true.  When I went in there, he was sitting up in his crib.  He still had his binky (I know, I know...that'll be gone by the time he's 3, I swear!), but I had to dig around for doggy.  Armed with those two things, I hugged him, calmed him, and put him back down.  He promptly sat up and resumed crying.  I put him back down and rubbed his back and left.  He started crying again. 

Ben decided to get up with him.  I'm not sure what sort of magic Ben does in there, but within 2 minutes, Bubba was happy and Ben was back in bed.  I'm not sure how long Ben tossed and turned (he has a really hard time falling back asleep once awake in the night), but I zonked right out.  I'm not sure why, then, I'm so tired today.

Day 2 of Tough Love

I missed dinner last night.  I was too busy feeling abused and ashamed at the gym.  I went to a spin class.  It was my first or second time at one of these, and it was kind of brutal, which is weird because all of the stuff that makes it hard or easy (resistance and speed) is on your honor.  The class was full.  Every last bike.  Apparently, this happens a lot, and you're required to sign up for said class.  It filled up 3 hours before the class started.  Unaware, I just walked right in and took the last open bike in the room.  15 minutes into the class, the instructor turned someone away - probably the girl whose bike I was on. Sorry!  The instructor was a cutey, and his choice in music was interesting.  The class was hard.  I think I'll go back on Monday.

Enough about the gym, this post is supposed to be about Bubba and his progress toward being a better human being.  So last night's dinner was leftover night.  That meant that we all kind of ate whatever, which works out well for Bubba.  That's kind of his eating style in general.  From what I hear, he 1.  did not sit in his booster - Ben went straight for the high chair and has put the booster away, and 2. did a pretty good job with his meal!  Hooray!  Bubba had 1 or 2 time outs after I got back from the gym, but after some calming and hugging, he went to bed like a pro and slept all night.  There wasn't even a 5:20 episode to completely disrupt our sleep.  Ben and I commented to each other that we felt down right refreshed. 

We're about to take back the night, folks!

Portland giveth and Portland taketh away

I had a dream last night that we lost the case.  Bummer.  This morning was looking brighter when I dropped Bubba off at daycare, and he not only let go of my hand and wandered off to play, but he didn't even cry when I left.  Also, my walk into work this morning was in 53 degree weather.  But that's not what this post is about. 

I found 2 pennies yesterday.  Coupled with the DOLLAR BILL I found the day before, and I've found $2.31 in the 4 months I've been here.  So am I up $2.31 overall?  No.  Yesterday, I lost my tri-met pass for January.  Ok, Portland.  Depending on how you do the math, that loss is either 20 times what I've found so far or 42.  I get a considerable discount on monthly passes, but if I were to buy that pass retail, I'd be paying $89 for it.  Luckily, I only use it to ride the max (train), and they don't ever check for tickets or passes.  The streetcar does, but I can ride that for free with my work badge.  The only thing I have to avoid until Feb is the buses, which might be a problem if the train service continues with their delays.  So far this month, trains that go in the direction I'm going have been delayed or out of service twice. 

This morning, I would have made my 2nd choice train, but it was out of service.  In their haste to get that corrected, my 3rd and 4th choice trains were canceled.  I ended up taking my 5th choice train, which has really never been a choice before.  It wasn't too bad, I guess.  Except for the fact that I got into work much later than normal.  The nice part was that I didn't get cold standing around for 12 minutes, waiting for a train to arrive.

Day 1 of tough love

Bubba had a bite of chicken for dinner last night.  One bite of chicken.  That's all he could handle before deciding that he really didn't want to sit down in a restaurant.  So...Ben and I took turns watching him in the car.  He cried and cried, but I think he got the point.  We came home, calmed down, got ready for bed, brushed teeth, and off to his crib he went.  No snacks, no 2nd dinner.  Nothing.  Because of that, he went to bed pretty early.  We were bracing ourselves for a wake-up every hour or two all night long.  It didn't happen.  Miraculously, he slept until 5:20 - about 20 minutes before my alarm usually goes off.  He went back to sleep, and I had to wake him up at 6, like normal. 

He tried to take control back when I let him sit in his booster seat at the table.  After giving him the choice of sitting nicely and eating or sitting in his high chair - and several warnings, I had to forcebly sit him in his high chair.  But you know what?  He ended up eating a pretty good breakfast. 

In conclusion, other than a ruined dinner out (but let's face it, with kids, that's bound to happen at least every other time you try), things are going smoothly.  Then again, it's just day 1.  We have at least 20 more of these before I will declare victory. 

I just need to remember that I have to be "mean" in order to give my baby boy my greatest gift as a parent:  raising him to be a productive and positive force in our society.  It's because I love him so much that I've become the enforcer in his life.