I haven’t blimped up or anything because I’ve been running for the last 3 months (3 miles, 3 times a week). But operation “lose that sticky baby weight” can’t progress with the way I’ve been eating. I only have 4 or 5 pounds to get to my pre-pregnancy weight! Plus 4 or 5 pounds to get to my goal weight.

And that’s where I’ve been for the last 3 months. Stuck.

So I started a Biggest Loser competition at work. To my delight, most of the department signed on to the idea (and agreed to put money toward a winner’s pot). We’ll do 5 weeks of rigorous weight loss with the promise of cold, hard cash at the end.

It starts today.

I feel more motivated than I have been in a long time. It’s so nice to be around people who are working toward the same goal: weight loss. And it’s getting competitive! Rumors of sabotage are spreading. Not by me.  Of course not. I’d never plant buttered-popcorn scented candles in the cubicles.

It’s going to be helpful to know that each extra cookie I eat will cost me $125 (the first place prize).

Here’s my plan:

1. Continue running 3 times a week and add some Zumba (Playstation Move) while my daughter is napping. Maybe throw in a hike or another run on the weekend.
2.  Cut down my snacking. (And get pickier about what I snack on, like fruit instead of granola bars. Cool whip instead of ice cream.)
3. Drink only water (and possibly tea). This one HURTS. But I think it will good to rid my body of diet soda for a month. I read somewhere recently that this has been a catalyst for some to lose weight. That’s right. Diet soda. Because even though it’s 0 calories, the chemicals cause the body to process nutrients differently, which can lead to poor absorption and more craving for things like sugar. You can Google it. I’m going to do my own test. If it’s true, fine. If it’s not, would you please pass me a can, please.
4. NO work candy. Meaning: no candy from the work candy bowl. Yikes.

But hey, got any unusual tips for me? Some trick you know for dropping weight? I know the major weight loss schools of thought, but I’m always game for a new idea.

I’d like to win, but I mostly just want to get to my fighting weight. We’re having a family reunion of sorts in early November on the mainland, and I’d like to look slim and trim for the family I haven’t seen in 6 years.

Think skinny, folks.

We decided on a color pallet: plumb, chocolate, sand, and silver. (Sophisticated. Calming. Not green. Finally.)

Our bedroom has been bare naked for the last 6ish years. Nothing on the walls. No window treatments. No bed set. Until recently, we didn’t even have nightstands (which is now two TV trays with a table cloths over them.) Everything is hand-me-downs in completely mismatching fashionlessness. We just can’t afford a super great furniture right now, so we have to be creative.

I found an idea on Pinterest to turn an old door into a headboard. It’s so neat and unique. So Brandon and I went to this place called “Re-use Hawaii,” which is an organization that recycles the goods they get from reconstruction and demolition projects. The warehouse is huge! It has everything, including an entire wall littered with old doors.

We picked out one for the headboard, but I’ll tell you about that later.

While we were looking through the doors, we found a full length mirror. Something I don’t have in my bedroom. And suddenly we had an additional project.

Um. Please excuse the mess that is my garage.

It needed a lot of work. The door had about 7 layers of paint in various shades that had to be stripped and sanded down. We took a painful amount of time at Home Depot debating about the color, but finally decided to let it pop with some plumb. (Teadora may have eaten a paint chip at some point during this episode as well. Then she choked on it. Then she threatened to throw up in the shopping cart. But we won’t talk about that parenting fail, okay?)

After about 2 coats of paint, the door was looking pretty good. But because it’s so beat-up, we needed to put a little more work into it. A little bit of sanding later, we came out with what they call “shabby-chic.” Here’s the final product:

Pretty color, right? But I like the shabby details. The mirror itself is old and showing discoloration, so it has a rustic look to it:

Also? Teadora approves. Kisses!

We set the mirror up against one of the walls in our bedroom, and I love it. It adds a lot to the atmosphere. It cost about $20 to buy the door and around $50 for the paint, supplies, and stripping agent (which we will use for the headboard and probably other projects as well). So maybe not a total steal, but certainly worth it in my opinion.

What do you think?

The headboard—our original project—has been stripped and sanded, but that’s about as far as it’s gotten. We just have to make the effort in our oodles of free-time to get it done. But I’ll update you when it happens so you can see the final product.

I came downstairs one morning a couple of weeks ago, and as I reached for Teadora’s morning banana, I noticed big, gaping bite marks in the whole bunch. “Could the cockroaches really be this big?” I thought to myself. But then I noticed plastic shavings underneath the garage door in our kitchen. And in the midst of those shavings? Poops.

I freaked out a little.

Then I decided to follow the poops. Through the kitchen. Into the dining room. Under the highchair. Back to the living room. To the front door. Back to the stairs. Up to the second story. Into the nursery. NEXT TO THE CRIB.

I’ve read stories online where tiny babies get bitten by rats because they smell like milk.

Panic. She slept with us the next 2 nights.

I scrubbed the whole house. Vacuumed everything. Lysoled everything. Cleaned out drawers. Cleaned out cabinets. Shoved every perishable item it could hold into our refrigerator. Changed sheets. I even called my mother to see if I should lysol the carpet. This kind of thing should not happen to me. I wipe down our counters every night. We are clean people.

The audacity of that mouse to come into my house and spread germs on my things.

That afternoon, we scoured the hardware store for the best option to get rid of our little friend. Glue traps with a dollop of peanut butter seemed like the best option. We bought two and set one up outside the nursery door and in the kitchen.

The problem is that the glue trap is big and our kitchen is small. Also, I don’t pay attention to where I’m going. Also, my daughter? She crawls. And she’s curious.

I stepped in it first. Then I yelled. Then I hollered about how it couldn’t be there. It took oil, acetone, and dish soap to get that sticky mess off my foot. Then I moved it.

The next day? I stepped in it again. More yelling. More hollering.

But what I didn’t count on is the fact that Teadora would want to explore its sticky delights (and maybe lick the peanut butter?). All I know is that she was sitting on her play mat 10 feet away in the garage, and when I turned around to look through the mail, she sprang for it. I don’t know how she got there so quickly. I dove across the kitchen, papers flying out of my hands, to scoop her up, but I was too late. All over her hand and a little in her hair.

The same thing happened in the nursery later on. I nearly broke my foot as I jumped to rescue her from herself. But she only managed to touch the side of it. No glue.

But would you believe? My husband was at home on the phone with me just a few hours ago and all I hear is a gasp and a “TEA!” Wouldn’t you know it? She got stuck in it again.

Fail.

In case you were wondering: not even a sign of a mouse. I think the sneaky bugger left the same night it came.

So I decided I’m going to slowly, slowly redecorate my house. Get rid of things. Add things. Find a color palette. Work on “do it yourself” projects. Feel like a real grown up.

I decided to start with the master bedroom (partly because our sage green bedding is now a lovely, splotchy yellow after a thousand washes, and partly because any other space in our house seems a little too overwhelming to this rookie decorator). Right now I’m deciding on what atmosphere I want for the room.

Peaceful. Calm. Loving. A refuge from work and motherhood. A place to think and read and reconnect with my husband. I want it to be sophisticated. I want it to be light with a touch of strength.

What colors do you think best express this?

Here are some palettes I’m thinking of doing:

or

or

or

or

I think you get the idea. I’m loving Plum. I’m also loving plum with gray and beige and chocolate.

Which is your favorite? Have any recommendations? What colors are your bedrooms?

I’ll probably be posting a lot about this in the future, if I can continue motivating myself. It’s going to be my hobby, but it’s expensive. We’ll see how far I can get.

Time for something new and different and worth caring about again.

I’ve spent 75% of my life with a short bob, so I thought about going super short. Peter Pan short. But Brandon asked me if I was joking, and I took that as “don’t do it, you’ll look ugly.” I’m too insecure to not respond to his subtlety.

So the only thing I could think of to make my hair really different was bangs. Not the sweepy side bangs, but real thick bangs. The rest of it was just trimmed and layered. This is what it looks like now:

When I got out of the salon, the first thing my husband says to me:

“Hey, you look like a more modern version of your 7th grade self.”

Blink. 

He’s right, you know. Here’s proof:
Maybe the bangs are a little less thick and a little more curled, but it’s strikingly similar, isn’t it? So much for trying something new.

But really folks, you don’t know the half of it. Check out this picture:

My hair is almost exactly the same as it was 24 years ago. How did that happen? HOW?

I think I’m in a rut.

Help.

Those extreme couponing shows on TLC make me crazy. I feel this rousing sense of guilt as they purchase more than $1000 worth of stuff for $51.67, when I can barely make it through the week on $150.

Coupons. They baffle me.

Doesn’t it seem like you have to buy things you don’t really want? The last show I watched documented the girl taking home roughly 50 bottles of sports drinks and 100 cake and cookie mixes. Seems practical enough. But those are things I choose not to bring into my house—not because I don’t like them, but because they really like my hips. Plus, this girl said she spent upwards of 60 hours searching for coupons a week! That’s more than a full-time job.

So occasionally, I’ll use a coupon. I have a nice one in my purse that will take $3.00 off my next produce purchase. That’s great! But my savings isn’t anywhere near extreme.

One thing that’s helping us save is meal planning. I get really excited about it, because I challenge myself not to have repeat meals (unless they’re really, really good). I’m very much into eating fresh, low-calorie foods, so most of them come from Cooking Light recipe books. We even have a pattern down now: I plan the meals, make the grocery list, and go shopping; Brandon cooks. It’s nice because I love the planning and hate the cooking, and Brandon loves the cooking and hates the planning.

We have a symbiotic relationship, isn’t that nice?

You know what else is good about meal planning? Really, really, tasty meals. If you haven’t experienced the joys of Cooking Light, then you probably think I’m crazy. But I honestly think we eat better at home than we would going out most of the time. Dinner is something to get excited about in our house. Don’t believe me? Please try the following meals and get back to me (or at least click through to look at the pretty foodie pictures):

• Greek Steak Pita with Dill Sauce
• Patty Melts with Grilled Onions
• Flank Steak with Cucumber-Pepperoncini Relish and Naan
• Chicken Tacos with Mango-Avocado Salsa
• Chicken, Red Grape, and Pesto Pizza
• Gorgonzola-Walnut Fettuccine with Toasted Breadcrumbs
• Open-faced Steak, Pear, and Gorgonzola Sandwich

(Hey, that’s 7 meals! You could use this as your meal plan this week, although I realize it’s a little beef heavy. My husband wouldn’t mind. These are just my favorites.)

Anyway, I know I’ve cut down our bill because we don’t have to go back to the store to buy last-minute things, and we’ve eliminated needless purchasing. And I already look for the lowest prices and plan meals around things we have in the house already. But I’m always looking for ways to help our budget.

What are your tips and tricks?

I took the nightlight out of her room because I read an article yesterday that said babies are better off sleeping in the dark. Apparently, it helps to minimize disruptions in her sleep patterns and releases the sleep hormone, melatonin. It was at least worth a shot. What if this was it? This could be the reason she’s up at night! It’s so simple. The room is just too bright.

But no.

Kicking and smiling and talking and gurgling in the wee hours of the night.

(SIDENOTE: Did you know melatonin is one of the best defenses the body has against cancer? Women who sleep in the dark are 60% less likely to get breast cancer. Also, it prevents depression.

Maybe I should take the nightlight—ahem, nightlights—out of my room too. But then how will I see what’s hiding in the dark?)

But I still feel good because of the way my day started. Although the following events each played a part, my happy disposition is not because of:

1. the gigantic “good morning” smile Teadora gave me when I peeked over her crib at 6:15.
2. the extra 30 minutes of sleep she decided to sneak in after her breakfast bottle because she was awake all night.
3. the extended morning cuddling she gifted me because she was tired but couldn’t convince herself to stay sleeping.
4. those wet, wet “kisses” she planted on my face while she squeezed my cheeks with her chubby little hands during the extended morning cuddling.

You’d think that would do it for any mama. But the best part of my morning? Stepping on the scale and realizing I am now a half pound lighter than I was yesterday.

Call it water-weight. Call it fluctuation. Call it eating less the night before.

But it’s not a half pound heavier, and that certainly makes a girl feel good.

The benefits to my new dieting regime seem to have begun.

That very same co-worker just sent me a poem—because it’s true our bodies are different. I thought you might like to read it as well:

ODE by Elizabeth Alexander

I love all the mom bodies at this beach:

the tummies, the one-piece bathing suits, the bosoms that slope, the wide, nice bottoms, thigh-flesh shirred as gentle wind shirrs a pond.

So many sensible haircuts and ponytails.

These bodies show they have grown babies, then nourished them, woken to their cries, fretted at their fevers.

Biceps have lifted and toted the babies now printed on their mothers.

If you lined up a hundred vaginas, I could tell you which ones have borne children, the midwife says.

In the secret place or in sunlight at the beach, our bodies say: This is who we are.

No, this is what we have done and continue to do. We labor in love. We do it. We mother.

I just came back from running an errand on the university campus, and I was feeling self-conscious. Those super petite, super skinny, super fashionable girls made me feel frumpy and lumpy again. It used to happen every time. I’d start thinking about my overly washed shirt or my hair that needs styling or the possible bulge over my belt. I’d envy their smallness. Wish I could fit in their clothes. Wonder how they look so good all the time.

But do you know how she responded?

“No, I don’t even think about it. Things are different now that I’m a mom. It just doesn’t matter anymore.”

I didn’t give what she said a second thought until a couple weeks ago. I had to get my parking pass from the student center, and it just happened to be during lunch—the busiest time on campus. Students were bustling around. Leggings. High-heeled boots. Swooping tops. Flashy bangles. Skinny jeans. Highlights.

I was surrounded by twenty-somethings in all their glory.

But on the way back, it hit me. I don’t feel self-conscious.

It was startling. And freeing. That natural tendency to compare myself to every passerby was missing. I walked to my errand. I did my errand. I returned from my errand. I didn’t think about my clothes or my walk or my size. It was simply a non-issue. I had better things to think about (like the fact that I was walking by myself without a baby hanging in my arms for the first time in 5 months.)

Somewhere in those past 5 months, I realized that there are more important things to think about. Instead of banking my self-worth in the way I look, I’ve found empowerment by the sheer weight of the things that I do. Day in and day out I find myself accomplishing so much with the strengths God gave me. My priorities are entirely realigned, which means I’m learning to like myself a lot more. I find so much more satisfaction and affirmation through the way I apply myself.

I was recently told that I am now “radiating that matronly glow.” I like to think of it as confidence that comes from motherhood.

I grew a baby and squeezed her out myself. I can juggle home life and work life. I can make dinner for my husband. I have a relationship with my Father. I have willpower to eat healthy. I can even find time to write. I am doing so much, and there’s plenty of affirmation in that.

And if I’m being honest? I’m even starting to like the way I look. I have the marks of becoming a mother, and there is something really rewarding and beautiful about it.

And she’s right, I love me some stress.

But it’s done a number on my self-esteem.

And with all the added anxieties of going back to work, I had to let go of my obsession with getting back to where I was pre-pregnancy. I was fast approaching the deadline for going back to the office still wearing elastic waist bands and poofy shirts—all because I didn’t want to admit that I’m a bigger size. And it was depressing.

So I forced myself to try on everything in my closet. And wouldn’t you know? I found a couple of pants that I could actually button—even if they were several years old and a size bigger than I’d normally wear. Then I spent my birthday money on getting a few essentials: nice slacks in my current size, a dress with an empire waist, and ruffly, baby-bump-concealing tops. Essentially, I replenished my closet with a transitional postpartum wardrobe.

I started to feel better about myself. Also, I’m still loving the emotional high of buttoning pants.

But now I’m ready to take it one step further and try some new strategies for getting skinny:

1. I’m no longer counting calories, but I’m not ignoring them either—a big step for this OCD girl. Filling foods with lots of flavor in regular portions at regular meal times is the goal. I’m trying new healthy recipes to keep my interest peaked (like last night’s unbelievably good Open-Faced Steak, Pear, and Gorgonzola Sandwich).
2. I’ve introduced nuts into my diet as one of my snacks for the day. I portion out a serving with my gram scale, and I stick to it. Eating out of the jar is mindless munching—a game I can’t win. I read an article yesterday that said people who eat nuts are thinner than people who don’t. Neat. Also, it’s heart healthy. Also, it’s filling because of the protein.
3. Gum. The single best trick for keeping extra snacks out of your mouth.
4. Weight Watchers ice creams. Have you tried them? Lots of variety. Minimal calories. This is my trick for getting over the sweet tooth attack at night. It also keeps me from bingeing.
5. Zumba. Because it’s fun and highly energetic. And because I can jiggle and wiggle behind closed doors with the blinds tightly shut.

Simple things to do. But mostly I’m trying to focus on attitude. In Candace Cameron Bure’s—that’s D.J. Tanner to you Full House devotees—new book, Reshaping It All, she talks about being positive and setting yourself up to succeed. When it comes to weight loss, we need to approach it positively. You know, find the good parts about it. For instance, instead of thinking about how much I hate running when I’m already tired, I can focus on how much I love being outside when the sun sets. Instead of thinking about how much I long for that chocolate glaze cake donut, I think about how much I love trying new Cooking Light dessert recipes. Instead of thinking about the 17 pounds I still have to lose, I think about the fact that I can now button some pants I couldn’t button for the last year.

Get it?

It sounds touchy-feely, I realize. And much easier said then done. But I like the positive spin—replacing the negative with a positive—especially since diet and exercise revolves so often around guilt and deprivation.

I just have to think about all this differently. My usual maniac calorie counting is not working, probably because my body has physically changed so much.  Four months of zero weight loss does a number on your psyche. And discouragement is the chief instigator for those late night trips down chocolate chip alley.

Basically, I’m relaxing my obsessive standards for myself while still embracing the game.

What are your healthy body tips and tricks?

I’d really like to know.