I'm not going to make it to Christmas break.

Remember last year, or maybe the year before when this blog about the end of the school year was making the rounds? I swear, that mom and I could be BEST FRIENDS FOREVER. She just gets that the end of the school year is basically parties and not even worth the energy it takes to get your kids to school. But here's the thing, it's December and I already feel that way. Like, she's limping across the finish line and I'm not even at the halfway mark yet, and I totally give up.

I should have known that this year was doomed for failure when I lied on Reese's reading log on the first week of school. Twenty minutes a night is overkill anyways. But seriously, I had no idea that today was Reese's class party. Apparently the email AND the paper flyer that came home last Friday didn't make it through my "fuck school" mentality. Or, maybe, just maybe I blacked out the thought that I would have to get through an entire morning routine, with three children, two of which hate the mornings, for my child to learn nothing and party all day. And these party people are the people trying to convince me that twenty minutes a night is important? Oh girl.

And the thing is, the kids are just as done as I am. Camden doesn't start school until 11:20, and this morning I let him have a PJ play date from 8am until it was time to go to school. Don't worry, I set aside five minutes for him to change his clothes and brush his teeth. The Elf isn't even helping anymore. They realize that his beady little eyes can only follow you so far, and then they're on their own. They act like little angels in front of Snowflake, and as soon as they're out of eye shot they turn into wild children who might be being raised by wolves. It's like I'm raising criminals, and training them to only be bad when the police aren't watching.

Everett hasn't even had a nap this week, because four of five days have been early release. Dude, just give us all five days. OR. Bundle all those early release hours up and let us start Christmas break one day early. Both big kids are having two days of parties this week, so I'm thinking that the only people more done than I am are the teachers. Today when I was volunteering in Camden's class I'm 98% sure that we were teaching the kindergarteners how to play craps. I mean, it's a life skill so I happily participated. Plus, I have no idea how to play craps (because pregnant at 19, obvi) so we both learned something.

We are so, so close to the end of this week, and tomorrow is even PJ day, so I don't even have to get anyone dressed. Two more lunches to pack, two more reading logs to forge, two more drop offs and we are done for two whole weeks. Cheers to that!

Movement Without Fear

In super exciting news, I had my 3 month post op appointment last week!  Here we are, three months and some change, well on the road to recovery, and I'm still in pain.  When I went into this surgery people who knew me and loved me were so optimistic for me.  I constantly heard "You're so young, and in great shape, you'll heal so much faster than you think!"  I took that sentence to heart, and clung to it for dear life.

I was so scared going into surgery.  Every single thing was unknown.  Will we be able to do it arthroscopically or will it have to be an open incision?  Can we repair the cartilage or will we have to shave it down?  What other damage is there?  Even the morning of surgery, talking to my doctor there was no clear plan, but more of a "here are the three options that I am comfortable doing today."  My surgery was supposed to take 2 hours, and it ended up taking 5.  Instead of my doctor just doing one of the possible surgeries he did all three.  My labrum was able to be repaired instead of shaved, but it was completely detached and is now held into place by 6 suture anchors.  He had to shave 1/2 an inch of bone off of my hip in one spot alone.  I had two different types of impingement that had to be corrected. All of this to say, it didn't matter how young I am, or what good shape I was in, I had every worst case scenario and this wasn't going to be a smooth and easy recovery.

I think that's what has caught me the most off guard.  Just how slow this process is.  But is it always this slow?  No.  There are much milder versions of this surgery, I just didn't have any of them.  Going into this I had read all of the blogs, and the medical websites, and everything I could, and while reading on paper how slow it was didn't phase me, living it has just about killed me.  Six weeks ago I was cleared to walk my kids to school.  That's it.  That's as far as I was allowed to go.  "Healing takes time, and we want the right amount of scar tissue to form, and my bone was so freshly shaved."  I heard these words, but I hated them.

When I woke up from my surgery I thought that every day would be better, and I would be pain free in no time.  But the truth is, you don't wake up pain free.  There is no one day 'ah-ha!' moment.  You are still in pain.  The sky is still blue.  It's a new kind of pain, and it's scary.  You've just undergone 5 hours of hellacious surgery, were stuck to your couch for 6 weeks, are barely allowed to walk 1/4 of a mile, and you're still in fucking pain.  The pain is getting better.  It isn't something that stops me from doing things anymore, and three months and some change later I can say that it is better than the day that I went in for surgery.  Did I mention that this process is slow?

With all that being said, I still am afraid with most of my movements.  Random things catch me off guard, the twisting of my leg just wrong, bending just at the wrong angle, getting out of bed wrong.  Every move that I make is a conscious one.  The other day in the grocery store Camden accidentally kicked the side of my foot while he was running by me, and it caused my foot to turn out, and the amount of pain that I was in at that moment almost dropped me to the ground in tears.

Last week my doctor cleared me to walk as far as I want!  I didn't realize at the time what that meant to me.  I didn't realize it until yesterday when I took Everett and the dog on a 1.25 mile walk.  Clearly it isn't a far distance, but there was this beautiful moment, walking down a trail, on such a gorgeous day, with the sun was shining, the trees such a vibrant green, and I just felt free.  Like all of this was finally becoming worth it.  It was such an emotional moment, one that I didn't know I needed, but was so, so needed.  This is the path that I couldn't wait to be on.  Taking my toddler on a walk, stopping to bend down and look at the streams, zigging and zagging, and just living.

I still have three more months until I can go back to things like running, and the gym.  But, I did get cleared to work my back, shoulders & chest at the gym!  Woot, I'm about to be that 'don't forget leg day' meme making the rounds.

Sunday Funday!

I have this shirt, and I'm trying really hard to love it.  It's soft, and cozy, and a little bit big, and really really comfortable.  But, it's a flannel plaid, and I'm fairly certain that I look like a lumberjack in it.  In fact, I bet that if I were to go to Home Depot right now they'd look at me and be like "Nah, she doesn't need any help, she's got this." To make matters worse I'm currently using a pencil to keep my hair up in a bun, because why not?  This is why you try on clothes before you buy them.

Speaking of buying, I am feeling so jaded by this Christmas season.  This morning Mark and I took the kids to see Big Hero 6 (totally adorable, and worth going to see), and there was an entire preview where every Disney character was asking a kid "What'dya get?"  Seriously?  Ridiculous.  I'm so over Disney right now that it's also ridiculous, but that's another post for another time.  Anyways, back to my point.  This Christmas break the kids and I are going to focus on acts of service, and giving our time to people who aren't as lucky as we are.  We are going to sit down and brainstorm one to two things each that we can accomplish.  Anyone have any ideas?  I was thinking the SPCA for Cam, and something involving the Sacramento Children's House for Reese.  

Oh my gosh!  I finally did it.  I stepped on the scale for the very first time post surgery.  It is seriously the most nerve wracking thing ever!  I've been wanting to do it for weeks, but it stresses me out so badly that I have to do it in a quick wave of courage.  Scales should cause 100% less anxiety than this.  Anyways, I was so pleasantly surprised!  I've lost 4 pounds since surgery, which puts me at 134lbs.  You know what that means?  I've officially lost 20lbs since May 1st!  I realize that it's 6 months, and that the bulk of that weight was lost in the first 9 weeks, however, what I'm most excited about is that I haven't yo-yo'd!  I've maintained or slowly lost.  This has totally motivated me to get back to meal prepping, and IIFYM.  

I'm trying to start shifting my meals to be more Whole30 compliant now, so that when I start it (on Jan 1st, join me!) I don't go through major carb withdrawals.  I still haven't bit the bullet and tried Bulletproof Coffee, but I want to.  I just get so sad at the thought of only starting my day with one cup of coffee.  I don't even think that I turn into a nice person until I reach the bottom of my second cup. And, that's a lot of butter.  Have you tried it?  Let me know what you think of it!

How I Ruined the Baby.

Do you guys do Elf on the Shelf?  I seriously love that little thing.  Nothing says "Santa's watching!" like a tiny little person shaped stuffed animals, whose beady little eyes follow your every move.  It's like she's daring my kids to misbehave, and they know that the consequences won't be worth it, so they act like little angels.  Do you think I can keep this going until July?  Cause I'm thinking I should.

Ooh!  This weekend the Christmas season officially kicks off for us!  I'm so excited.  Reese is in the towns holiday parade and tree lighting ceremony on Saturday.  It's super, super cute.  And then I have a cookie exchange party, and I have zero ideas for what kinds of cookies to make.  Anyone have a great recipe?  Last year I did almond shortbread with raspberry thumbprints.  They were delicious, but I'm thinking I should go more for chocolate this year.

I am so bored these days.  I have so much extra energy, and nothing to funnel it into.  My kids sports are over, so now all of my afternoons are free.  So I'll sit down to play with my kids and they don't want to play with me, they want to go outside and play with their friends!  I don't even know what to do with this free time.  Oh wait, yes I do.  Cleave onto Everett like he's the last baby on earth, and possibly ruin him for all time.  He's just so cute that when he's naughty I can't even do anything about it.  Yesterday he had a Gogurt, and I told him to go and eat it in the kitchen and he straight up said "Nope."  RUINED.  He has the sweetest little voice though, so when things like that come out of his mouth I just die of cuteness.  And then he gets even worse.   It's a vicious cycle, and I'm playing right into it.  Last night he was throwing a tantrum because he wanted to play with the iPad, and we don't let the kids use technology on school days, and I said "Snowflake (the elf) is watching you, do you want her to tell Santa not to bring you any toys?"  that little turkey said "Yes!"  

I really, really want to go back to the gym.  I'm getting so strong at my day to day activities that sometimes I forget that I really am still recovering, and need to take it easy.  Black Friday was the perfect reminder.  I shopped all night with a friend, and by the last store I could physically not walk anymore.  It took me three days to recover from that.  I see the doctor next week and I will see what he says about me joining and doing some upper body work.  I haven't really been cleared to engage my core yet because of where my incisions are, that the muscles and cartilage in my upper thigh/right where my hip bends are still healing.  Whomp, whomp, whomp, another week just gives my body time to get stronger, and heal more.  But!  I'm 100% done Christmas shopping now.  I just need the rain to stop so that we can go and get a tree.

Tuesday Ramblings

Parenting is like walking a tight rope sometimes.  You love your kids more than anyone in the world, and you genuinely see the best in them 99% of the time, which leaves you in a serious pickle when you notice that they really suck at something.  So the thing is, Reese loves to sing.  We used to joke when she was little that she lived her life like a Disney Princess, always in song.  But homegirl can't sing.  At all.  This morning she was belting out Taylor Swift and I was so sure that the dogs were going to start howling it was that bad.  She does this weird, deep, man voice.  I can't even describe it so just know that it's painful.  But, how do I tell her that?!  I'm her mom, and I think that the sun shines out of her little booty, so if I think it's bad can you imagine what other people think?  And here's the thing, I don't care if she belts out tunes at home, or with her girlfriends, or anywhere else for that matter.  Singing and dancing is fun!  But I mean, I have to interfere before she goes on American Idol.  I don't ever want her to feel public humiliation.

Or, maybe she sings beautifully and it's just the carb withdrawals making me think that it's awful.  Probably not, though.  But onto the carb withdrawals, with the exception of Friday night I've been keeping my carbs at or below 100 grams.  It is so tough!  I know that I don't need a ton of carbs right now because I'm doing nothing that requires energy, but man oh man do they taste delicious.  I think that I might start Wednesday Weigh Ins again, just to stay on track.  It's too easy to lie to yourself, ya know?

I'm gearing up for the Whole30.  I think I'm going to focus on making a month long menu and grocery list, and try to get some of the breakfast foods cooked & frozen so that I can offset the cost in January.  Oh, and to be super prepared too.  Totally.  If you're going to do it with me, I'm reading the book It Starts With Food, so hopefully I go into it with a clearer head this time.  Last time I did it it was because Paleo was cool, now I just know that my system needs a reboot, and I wonder if it will help with the leftover bursitis in my right hip.  We shall see!

There's a Dead Body in my Backyard

Not a human body, obviously, but a dead hamster body and a dead body is a dead body.  Before we delve into the hamster funeral let's cover some basics.  Last year for Christmas, Santa brought Reese a special 'North Pole' hamster, that could never be replaced so she had to take super good care of it.  And for the most part she did.  Except for the incident, which was all Camden's fault, and Reese has no idea.

The incident started out like any other day, Reese off to school and Cam, Evi and I home playing. Camden asked if he could go play with the hamster, and I said yes.  He goes upstairs, gets the hamster and starts playing.  Two things I want to interject with here.  The first is that Camden was always so gentle with the hamster that I never worried when he had it.  The second is that I am a naive fool.  So a few minutes later Camden starts screaming for me about something being wrong with Mr. Nibbles.  I run upstairs and find a hamster that has been beaten to death by a plastic shark.  I totally panic, contemplate sending Camden to future serial killer rehab, and then do what any good mom would do and lie and say that the hamster is just taking a nap.  And then I replace the dead hamster with a live one.  And that is how the first Mr. Nibbles met his untimely end.

Now, the hamster that we replaced Mr. Nibbles the first wasn't an exact match color wise, so we continue our train of lies and tell Reese that it's 'molting.'  The thing about Mr. Nibbles II is that he's a dick, and won't let any of the kids get close to him.  I guess that when hamsters molt their personalities also change, but that once the molting process is done, they go back to normal.  Our kids are going to be so messed up as adults.  The original Mr. Nibbles was such a nice, friendly rodent that we couldn't leave a dick in it's place, so I return him to Petsmart.  Have you ever returned a pet to a pet store?  They look at you like you're a monster who might be raising a serial killer.  Little did they know that only half of that is true.  But seriously, you work at a store that mass breeds small rodents for profit, you aren't exactly in the moral high ground on this one.  So, after many dirty looks I return Mr. Nibbles II and buy Mr. Nibbles III.  Clearly I made the third hamster purchase at a different pet store so that my name didn't go into some database.

Anyways, onto Mr. Nibbles III.  He replaced the original Mr. Nibbles perfectly!  He was friendly, almost a completely different color, but it's fine, it's just what he molted into, and Reese was none the wiser.  She really is so pretty.  Have you ever had small children and a hamster?  That thing is worth every cent of the $8 you spent on it.  It entertains them for hours!  That poor hamster was regularly an ice cream man, part of Barbies dream life, a pirate, or any other variation of their imagination.  At one point they trained the hamster to go through a maze for a treat.  Seriously, get your kids a hamster, you'll never have to make up things for them to do again.

Well, the other night things didn't go so well.  I asked Reese to make sure that Mr. Nibbles III had food and water and when she went to pet him she discovered his cold, stiff little body.  Actually, first she picked it up, noticed that it was dead and then threw it back into his cage.  I think that both of us might be scarred for life after that.  She freaks out.  That might be an understatement.  She spends a solid hour sobbing and chanting "I....want....Mr.....Nibbles..." over, and over, and over again.  To distract her we decide to have a funeral.

Hamster funerals are quite interesting.  They're basically real funerals for a tiny rodent that you aren't really sad is dead, so you have no idea how to act.  Let me just break it down for you.  First, you have to pick out a casket.  A shoebox will do just fine.  But you can't just bury a dead hamster in a shoebox, you have to make sure it'll be comfortable in the afterlife.  So you fill it with it's bedding and wrap the dead rodent in a rag that you've been begging your kid to get rid of forever and then you tape the shit out of that box.  No need to chance the dogs digging up and ripping into that box.  Could you just imagine, Reese coming home from school only to see little bits of hamster fluff all over the backyard?  I could never afford the therapy bills.

Then you have to bury the box.  Interesting fact, this is significantly easier to do in the movies than in real life.  Mark starts to dig and gets like 18" down before he hits straight clay and rock.  You can't dig through that shit with a shovel, so that's as deep as that hole gets.  You put the taped-to-shit casket in the hole, and then, because you've watched way too much CSI know to sprinkle kitty litter in that hole to absorb the rotting animal smell.  At this point both your child and husband will be crying.  It's fine though, because the third step of rodent funerals is the eulogy.

This part is very sweet, and touching.  Reese had written Mr. Nibbles III a note, which she read out loud (after a motivational speech, given by Mark).  Even heartless I got a little bit choked up at this part.

To close the funeral out your crying husband should give the Lord's Prayer while you silently wonder if you should be preparing light appetizers and cocktails for the reception to follow.  At that point I remembered that is was almost 9pm, and that showers were to follow this event, not cocktails and usher everyone inside.

And then, the next day your 8 year old daughter and all of her friends have the most morbid playdate ever, and reenact the funeral, complete with sobbing, a moment of silence and fighting.

And that is the story of how there is now a dead body in my backyard.  RIP Mr. Nibbles III.

12 Weeks Out- A Quick Recap

Do you ever get trapped in that 'I can change!  I want to change!  Wait, is that pizza?!' trap? That's so where I'm at right now. Actually, I'm laying in bed trying to talk myself into doing a push-up, or at least attempting one, but, I've had 3 slices of pizza and a push-up seems like a lot of work right now. But I'm pretty sure that I could do a push-up if I wanted to. Anyways, all things push-ups aside today's a big day! It's been 12 official weeks since my hip was sliced and diced!  So, let's recap, and then let's set some goals that don't involve pizza.

Week 1: Blacked out on painkillers. It was a magical week. 

Week 2: Online shopping while high on painkillers. It was an expensive week. 

Week 3: Boredom sets in. I had already watched two complete series of shows and was starting on Bones. 

Week 4: Finally some progress, I was allowed to go to 10% weight bearing! 

Week 5: Major set back. My pain level was back to week 1 levels, and I was taken from 10% weight bearing to 0% weight bearing. 

Week 6: Fuck it all, I hate crutches and gave them up completely. 

Week 7: Woo-hoo! Sweet freedom, I'm driving again! 

Week 8: Officially walking the kids to and from school! One of the things I had missed the most. 

Week 9: Back to the doctor. He wants me to stop progressing and hold tight for a few weeks. 

Week 10: More of the same. 

Week 11: More of the same. 

Week 12: Gurrrrlll, stop eating all things carbs and focus. Let's set some goals. 

Basically, I need to get my crap together. My eating is all over the board, and I'm binging like there is a purge to follow, but it's just binging. So, my first goal is to log all of my food into MFP until Dec. 1st. 

My second goal is to keep my carbs under 100 grams. What does that mean? That I'm going to be HANGRY these next two weeks.   But I've been on a serious carb bender and néed to flush my system. I'm contemplating doing the Whole 30 in January, if anyone wants to do it with me. We can all hate life together those first two weeks. 

Lastly, I think that I am going to join a gym in December. I still won't be cleared to do anything fun, but I can at least hit my arms/shoulders and back a few times a week.  I'm going to she hulk up, and then have toothpick legs.

I can not wait to get to a point of real progress, and be cleared to do everything that I want to! I didn't even realized how much I missed running, and I've got a serious build up of excess energy and no way of working it off. I know that things like squatting are forever off the table and I'm working on being OK with it. I am also super excited for things like lunging, side to side agility, and a few other minor things of that nature to be on my PT list next week, small progress is still progress. That about sums up my last 12 weeks, hopefully the next 12 go way faster! 

Brown Sugar Glazed Pork Chops

I have been on such a pork roll lately.  I love the way that it works so well with so many different flavors!  Plus, it's the other, other white meat.  And, I'm at that place where if I eat one more chicken breast I might drive my car into the guard rail of the freeway.  Anyways, it all started with a craving for my vegetables to be prepared in a new way, and has spiraled into pork prepared 3 different ways over 3 different nights.  I feel like I've been in such a rut when it comes to vegetables.  Balsamic brussel sprouts?  Bam, I got it.  Balsamic cauliflower? Done!  Roasted broccoli? Owned it.  Those are delicious recipes, but man, are they tired.

Anyways, I was perusing Pinterest, and I saw tons upon tons of brown sugar glazed pork chop recipes, and, I had pork chops on hand!  They're all basically the same, but I modified a few things to make it even more amazing.  You know what the best part of this recipe is?  It only uses one pan.  Seriously, make this for dinner tonight, you won't be disappointed!

Ingredients:

4 bone-in pork chops

5 slices of bacon

1 package of shaved brussel sprouts

1 tbsp. olive oil

1/2 cup brown sugar

1 tsp. cayenne pepper

1 tsp. garlic powder

1 tsp. salt

1/2 tsp. black pepper

How to make them:

1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

2.  Combine the brown sugar, cayenne, garlic powder, salt & pepper.  Dredge the pork chops in the mixture.  Make sure they're thickly coated.  There will be some mixture left over, rest assured, we use it later!

3.  Heat the olive oil and brown the pork chops.  Cook them over medium to medium-high heat for 5 minutes on each side.  

4.  Remove the pork chops from the pan and cook your bacon.  Remove bacon, let cool and cut into small pieces.

5.  Toss the brussel sprouts in the pan with the bacon grease & pork chop drippings, and sprinkle with the remaining spice mixture.  Let this cook down for a few minutes.

6.  Add the bacon & pork chops back to the pan.  Put the pork chops right on top of the brussel sprouts, so that all of their amazing juices drip right onto the sprouts, making them extra yummy!

7.  Bake for 10 or so minutes, until the meat is as done as you would like.  I like mine done medium, so I only did mine for 7 minutes.

The Homework "Gray Zone"

Oh my gosh you guys, I think I've committed a mortal sin.  That might be a tad dramatic, but just stay with me on this one.  If your family is anything like mine then you've also been doing the sports hustle.  The one where one parent is shuffling one kid off to Sport A, while the other parent is shuffling another kid off to Sport C, and eventually you guys will meet in the middle at Sport B, and hopefully one of you has remembered the third kid.  Shits getting crazy around here.  

Amidst the shuffle of sports, the state is pretty adamant that we still educate our children.  God knows why, Common Core is basically mind fucking them anyways.  But, with education comes homework.  I have such a love/hate relationship with homework.  On the one hand, I feel like it really ties me into what they're working on in class and keeps everything connected.  On the other hand, I really hate wasting time doing homework.  My feelings aside, homework has to get done, and wine has to get consumed.  It's a hand in hand process, my friends.

So, back to our story at hand.  Reese is in 3rd grade now.  It's a grade that really teeters on 'fun kid school!' and 'holy shit, you're a big kid now' school.  So, sometime in September she got assigned a book report.  We were so on top of that ball it hurt.  We had our book read way before the assigned 'finish reading your book by' date (because it was like 3 weeks out from the date we were handed this assignment), our rough draft was turned in and corrected way early, and then we even managed to type up the final draft!  And then the madness happened.  We had A MONTH from the date that the rough draft was handed back to Reese to the final due date, so, we did what every busy family would do and set it aside.  

The night before the project is due rolls around, and I reread the instructions, and not only is her (now neatly typed) book report due the following day, so is a visual aid and a presentation.  Justkillmenow. So, we get home from cheer at 6:30 and Reese starts making a poster.  Which is literally taking for-freaking-ever.  I mean, how does one even color so slowly?!  It baffles me.  We take a break from our poster, eat dinner, clean up dinner, and start back in on the poster.  At 8:30 we are still working on this damned poster, and suddenly I have a light bulb moment!

"Reese, why don't you say your presentation to Mommy while you color, and I'll write it down for you!"

It was genius, guys.  Nothing could go wrong.  We might even get to bed by 9:30!  Until this sentence happened.

"But I don't know what to say, Mommy."

A large amount of expletives were said in my head, but it's ok, because I'm a problem solver and I had this on lock.  So, here's how her presentation was written (I should probably just be calling this our presentation):

Me: "What was the title of the book that you read, and who was the author?"

Reese:  "Matilda by Roald Dahl."

Me: "How did this story start?"  

"What was the middle?"  

"How did it end?"  

"Who are these characters?"  

"What was the best part?"  

"Would you recommend this book to your friends?"

She answered and I kind of summed things up here and there, and wrote them down for her presentation.  Seriously, it was some gray zone shit.  I don't know that I necessarily wrote her presentation for her, but there was no way it would have sounded the way it did had I not coached every single word out of her mouth.  I don't even know where to go from here.  Do I tell the teacher?  Hell to the no, we don't have time to redo that project.  Do I talk to Reese about it?  Maybe just mention that I helped her so much because this was her first time, and next time she'll be more independent?  Or, do we just forget that this project happened, and try harder the next time?

I should add, we didn't get to bed until 10:30 that night, even with my help.  It's fine though, all of the good parents teach their 8 year olds the magic art of procrastination, and how it leads to better papers in college.  

"Why do you always make me such gross food?!"

Before I had kids I had this vision of what dinner would be like, it was very Cleaver-esque, obviously. We would all sit around the dinner table, laughing, sharing sweet anecdotes from our day, and truly basking in each other's company. Of course, all of this would happen while enjoying a delicious, nutritionally balanced meal made from scratch by my loving hands.  Oh, the magical evenings we were going to have.

Ha. And now here we are, three kids later, surviving dinner like we are making it out of Wal Mart with a big screen TV on Black Friday. The pain is real. Each of my kids is so unique in their eating habits, that it is literally impossible to make all of them happy. Reese will eat 80% of what you put in front of her with minimal bitching and moaning. Camden complains about every.single.thing on his plate, short of chicken nuggets and macaroni and cheese. And Everett loves all forms of food, so long as Camden isnt in the room, or is eating it. If Cam isn't eating it then neither is Everett.  The only meal that all three of them agree on is teriyaki chicken over steamed rice.  I should probably just give up and cook that every night.   But then again, if I made my nights so simple how could I justify my wine? Mom problems, yo.

Anyways, tonight started like any other dinner. I made something super complex, ramen noodles, chicken and mixed veggies. I even put soy sauce on everything. Noodles were the main part of this dinner, for crying out loud. Tonight was Reese's turn to complain, and it went something like this.

Reese: "I want to eat outside with my friends!"
Me: "Sorry babe, we are all eating inside tonight."

At this point the boys and Mark make their way inside for dinner. Camden starts complaining about what's for dinner before he even reaches the kitchen. Back to Reese.

Reese: "My chicken is too spicey!"
Me: "I didn't even put anything on it. I just cooked it in a pan."
Reese: "I can see the pepper on it!"
(Please note that I didn't put any pepper on it)
Me: "There is no pepper on the chicken."
Reese: "Continues pouting."

Dinner continues on, Camden eats his allotted food, and Everett eats everything on his plate, so we offer him more noodles.

Reese: "I want more noodles!"
Me: "After you eat the rest of the food on your plate you can have more noodles."
Reese: "THATS NOT FAIR!"

Everyone finishes dinner, except for Reese, who is now actively pouting and Mark is threatening to send her to bed. It's basically like trying to reason with the eight year old version of Caillou. Oh wait, now she has to use the bathroom. The dinner saga has now been going on for 45 minutes.

Reese: "Can I have a hug?"
Me: (in my head)" For the love of cheese, eat your freaking dinner or I will never show you affection again!"
Me: (out loud) "After you finish your dinner I will give you a hug."

The pouting continues for 15 more minutes before Mark gives up and sends her to bed. What the hell, man, why is it such a fight? and the thing is, if it wasn't her tonight it would have been Everett, refusing to keep his penis off the table, or Camden, refusing to keep his body in his seat, and his feet off of Everett.

All I wanted was one night, happy like the Cleavers, but I've recalibrated my expectations. Pass me the wine, I'll just enjoy dinner through wine googles. They're kind of like beer goggles, but takes the edge off of ugly dinner and bedtime episodes instead of all of those 6's at the bar. 😉

6 Week Recap: I vacuumed today.

I've basically abandoned blogging, I'm sorry, I suck. This recovery has taken so much out of me, both mentally and physically, and I've been really, really angry about it. But that's not why I haven't been blogging. I haven't been blogging because I haven't been able to sit at a 90 degree angle, which means  that I haven't been able to sit in a computer chair.  So what have I been doing with my time? Watching TV.  So far, I've watched:

Scandal- 3 seasons
House of Cards- 2 seasons
Bones- 9 seasons
Friday Night Lights- 4.5 seasons

Which means that I have officially watched 300 hours of TV since this surgery, or, roughly 12 days and nights. I'm officially going stir crazy. But, and I hate to type this because it's like tempting the earth, but things are finally, FINALLY, moving forward. I'm officially allowed to walk. Kind of. Very small increments at a time, as much as my body can handle. I suck at listening to my body, so this is definitely (another) challenge for me. But I will never go through this surgery again, so it'll be a cold day in hell when I don't listen to my body and stop when I need to stop.

So, what else has been going on? Everett is in daycare two days a week. It is tough, really tough. He hates it. He comes home from school, and when you ask him how baby school was he says "It was bad, weally weally bad." Little man is breaking my heart. I know its temporary, and a short term solution, but I miss my baby. The other kids aren't doing so hot, either. Cam is turning into quite the jerk, and I know that it's because his whole world has been flipped upside down, and I've always been there to help him, and now he kinda has to take care of himself, so I'm hoping that as I become more mobile, and life rights itself so will his behavior.

Reese, oh Reese.   She is such a sweet girl, and I swear, I've never met someone with as pure a heart as she has. She has definitely been the boys rock during this transitional period, and I couldn't be more proud of how strong she's been as her entire world has shifted. Also, we are now in 3rd grade, and dealing with Common Core. First, I want to start by saying fuck common core. They are taking everything they learned last year, and completely disregarding it. The new math is super logical, and I know that it will be beneficial in the long run, but Reese is 8, and 8 year olds aren't logical creatures. I just don't know that she is mature enough to handle math with this much logic.

Also, what the hell is this. The past three weeks they've been working on mental math, and breaking things down and subtracting them by rounding, all in their heads. Two and three digit numbers, really pressing these kids. This weeks lesson? The exact same math problems, but now we get to use manipulatives to solve the problem. Seriously, could this be more backwards?  Ugh, I hate Common Core.

Onto the future. My next hurdle? Driving. I know that I won't get cleared this week, my hip still locks up when I move it side to side, so in an emergency I might not be able to get to the brake because my hip locked up.  I'm working on forcing myself out of the house, and back into socializing with people.  When you watch 300 hours of TV you kind of turn into a hermit.  Also, I vacuumed today! Seriously, huge. It took me a few breaks, with some sitting, but it's done, and it's one less thing on Mark's plate! I really miss being my happy, social, outgoing self, so I need to kick this funk off like its yesterday's business.

Recovery: Day 4

Oh my gosh you guys, the funniest thing ever just happened. I got onto the iPad, went to the internet and guess what page popped up?

Ice cream truck tracker

Yup, you read that right, my 8 and 5 year old figured out how to use the almighty power of Google to find the ice cream man. Summer has got to be the best season ever.

I'm four days into recovery, and they've been a tough four days. I've cried a lot, been in a lot of pain, taken a lot of pain killers, and slept even more. This recovery has been so, so much harder then I ever could have anticipated.  Originally Mark was scheduled to go back to work tomorrow, but seeing as I still need help lifting my legs onto the couch I think it's safe to say that he's going to need to stay home a few more days.

I think that one of the toughest things for me about this is just how weak my leg is. I don't know if it's the severity of the torn labrum, or the released tendon, but I have almost no strength in that leg. Which is making me genuinely dependent on other people for everything.

Oh Mark, bless his soul, has become like the cleanliness police. So the other day he decides that it's mandatory that I take a shower. At that point my list of priorities looked like this: Valium, Norco, sleep. So this shower business was crazy. First, he has to get me undressed, which resulted in me almost falling no less than 3 times, because my right leg is currently 100% non weight bearing and I'm reliant on my crutches to keep me upright. So, I'm now de-clothed, and standing outside of the shower staring at it, trying to figure out just how in the hell I'm going to get in. And then Mark decides to just pick me up and put me in. I just want to point out that my husband is a bald man, and my hair goes halfway down my back, so washing hair isn't exactly his forte.  His attempt at washing this mop was like gently stroking a tiger, afraid that at any moment something might jump out and bite him, so to be as gentle possible. I'm not even sure the shampoo made it to my scalp.  At this point I completely ran out of energy and we had to reverse the getting in the shower process, this time with putting clean clothes on. After this entire experience, which may have taken a grand total of 7 whole minutes, I had no choice but to take a two hour nap. Tomorrow he says that I have to take another shower.

This has definitely been one of those 'it takes a village' situations. My parents took my kids from Wednesday-Sunday, and we're 100% willing to keep them longer, but I couldn't bear to be away from them for one more day. Especially Everett. He is just too young to understand what is going on, so while the big kids were sad and missed me, they were excited to shave special and fun time with their grandparents. Everett had no clue what was going on, just that he was away from his mom, dad & house, and he had a really tough time with that. My parents brought him back on Sunday afternoon, and he had fallen asleep on the way home, so after his nap Mark goes up and gets him, and Everett wouldn't even look at me. He was so mad at me for leaving him, and my heart broke into 1,000 pieces. It took him 45ish minutes to warm back up to me, and I spent the entire time fighting back tears. Eventually he remembered that I am in fact the best person in the entire world, and he loves me again.

So, where do we go from here? Thursday morning I have my post op appointment, and hopefully we are able to make a physical therapy plan, and get me back to mobility. My overall goal is to run the Shamrock'n half marathon in February, and I realize it's a lofty goal, but hey, if I shoot for the moon and miss I will still land in the stars. I know, it's cliche, but hey, if you don't have at least one good cliche what do you have?

Surgery.

The day of surgery I was scheduled to check into the hospital at 10am, for a surgery time of 12pm.   So, I started the day as usual, got up, got the kids ready for school, walked Reese to school and came home to a voicemail from the hospital asking me to come in sooner, because the doctor wants to start earlier. I panic, call all of my neighbors until one answers to come and stay with my boys until my mom could get there. And then we headed for the hospital.

When we get there the check in process went super smoothly, we check in and I'm almost immediately called back into the prep room.  We go through all of the standard get ready process and then my surgeon comes in to talk to us. At this point I knew I was either going in for open or closed FAI surgery, we just weren't sure which. Well, then my doctor dropped another bomb. Actually, it could be the FAI that we've been gearing up for, OR it could simple be a tendon that is too tight and needs to be released, OR, it could be some scary third thing that's a major, major surgery. His hope is that it's just the tendon, but he is ready to repair the labrum if it's torn worse than it looks, and should it be the third thing we pull out and find someone who specializes in such a delicate surgery. So, I go back into the OR not knowing what kind of surgery I'm going to have.

Waking up from anesthesia was ROUGH. I remember waking up and feeling like one of my kids was in danger, and that I had to get to them right away.  People were pushing me down, trying to get me to calm down, and when I figured out where I was I remember shaking from head to toe, shivering. I guess in order to keep the light field open in arthroscopic surgery they need to irrigate the area the entire time, and I had been in surgery for four hours, so I had literally been chilled to the bone. The next thing that hit me was the pain. I was warming up, but I was still shaking from pain. My doctor had ordered a nerve block before I woke up, but that didn't happen. So, they finally get me calmed down, get the anesthesiologist, and the ultrasound machine ready to locate the nerve to block when the anesthesiologist gets called away on an emergency. At this point I am laying in a hospital bed, sobbing in pain and waiting for an anesthesiologist. When he finally makes it back to my room the anesthesiologist decides that this would be the perfect opportunity to teach someone how to do a nerve block. You know, while I've already waited am extra 15 minutes for a missing anesthesiologist and am laying on a bed shaking and sobbing in pain sounds like a perfect teaching opportunity.

So I now have a nerve block, that can take up to 45 minutes to kick in, and a still in so much pain. The pain management team is talking about giving me more dilauded when my post op nurse tries to talk them out of it, saying 'I was just scoped.' and shouldn't need more pain meds.  I think it's fair to say that I was a hot mess post-op, especially at this point because I was still in so much pain, and i still had NO IDEA WHAT SURGERY I HAD JUST HAD.  I thought that maybe it was just me the post op nurse didn't like until I heard her tell the guy in the room next to me (who had just had spinal fusion surgery) that 'he came in with a pain level of 8, and he was at an 8 now, so that should be a tolerable level of pain for him.' And that's when I decided that she was an evil bitch who should probably be a prison warden, and not a nurse.

Mark and my dad are finally allowed back into the room with me, and that's when I learn what surgery I had. I had a deteriorated labrum that had to be completely reattached, and the over overage in my hip joint was shaved down, and I also had one of my tendons released because it was too tight. Overall the surgery took 4.5 hours, mad I spent 3.5 hours in recovery mad was able to go home that night. So, now I'm home, drugged to the high heavens and ready to get on the road to recovery.

My Husband is a Rockstar

Oh man, one blog post a week just isn't going to cut it.  Last week was CRAZY here!  The big kids started school, and they are both having such a great experience.  Reese started third grade, and this is the first year in a while that she has started with friends in her class.  She was super stoked to start school, and, we're four days in and she hasn't cried about waking up once.  She hates mornings like you wouldn't believe, so no tears is amazing.  Camden started kindergarten, and he's doing well.  At least that's what they're telling me (insert winking emoji).  After school on the first day I go to pick him up, and we find out there was a minor 'crossing of streams' incident, and he ended up peeing on a friend.  Yikes.  But, we haven't heard of any other problems, so we are just going to call that a case of first day jitters and hope that our first full week goes smoothly.  

I also went with a few friends to see the Rascal Flatts concert, and it was such a great time!  Almost as good as the people behind us.  Ha!  Let me tell you, if you're going to whisper dirty things in the hot girls ear you should first be sure of two things. 

1.  You should be sure that you're the guy she's going to go home with, and not your good buddy.

2.  You should be sure that you are, in fact, whispering.

It was so crazy!  Every time I turned around it was like couple swap.  The first time it was plaid shirt guy and sleeveless vest guy dirty dancing.  The second time it was sleeveless vest guy and black dress girl basically needing a room.  The third time it was plaid shirt guy and black dress girl all over each other.  I'm curious as to who went home with who that night.  If I could redo the night I would definitely have worked my way into the friend group just to get the gossip.

 In other news, I am having some major pre surgery anxiety.  I feel like a walking, talking basket case.  It's not even the surgery itself that scares me, it's the recovery.  It's a big recovery process, and it requires me basically handing over my entire job to Mark.  You know, my husband who also has a full time job.  I'm nervous for him.  I do a lot of stuff during the day/evening, and he has to take it all on, and it's basically the equivalent of a full time job.  So I guess for the next few weeks he will have two full time jobs.  The past week he has been such a rockstar.  Every time I feel myself getting nervous he's there, he's totally done every project that needs to be finished, and is overall being so supportive, and it really is giving me the confidence to feel like these next few weeks are going to be great, and that he will be able to handle it.  I am so lucky to have someone so supportive in my life.

Onto meal prep.  Blah.  Here's my plan.  I need healthy lunches for the next two days.  Wednesday and most likely Thursday I will be in the hospital, and Friday I can figure out something (you know, like sending Mark out to get me Thai food).  So, for lunch I will make ground turkey with steamed broccoli and squash, in Rotel.  It kind of looks like vomit, but tastes so good.

For dinner I have tonight worked out, tomorrow is a mystery, Wednesday I will be in the hospital, and Thursday and Friday will come from my freezer, for sure.  Tonight is so good, and so simple!  Do you guys ever eat chicken sausage?  I love the Alfresco brand, and they have tons of different types.  So, tonight is going to be crazy busy, and I am going to have to make dinner late, and it needs to be quick.  I sauté up the chicken sausage with peppers and onions, and serve it over noodles with parmesan for the kids, and just plain for Mark and I.  I usually eat two links because the protein is kind of low on only one,  and it's still super low in calories and carbs.

This is getting long, I'll wrap it up.  Mondays are the best because it's a fresh start.  Screw how badly you did this weekend, celebrate your wins and keep going on that high.  

All About the Alcohol.

As I previously mentioned, I decided to drink this month, which means that I didn't meet my one month goal.  I have a really immature relationship with alcohol, and doing no drinking challenges really contribute to that type of relationship.

When it comes to alcohol I have a very 'feast or famine' mentality, where I can either completely abstain, or I drink like a college kid.  For very short periods of time I can find that happy medium of having one or two small drinks and then being done, but then something happens, a party, a friends break up, bad days, and I start heavy drinking.  It's always the same, I never drink alone, but one drink completely lowers my inhibitions, and I forget that today I'm only going to have that one drink, and someone offers me another one, and I take it, and then the shots come out, and then another drink, and before I know it I'm completely wasted.  Even though I was only going to have one drink.

I realized that this was becoming a problem, so I cut back to only drinking on weekends.  I'm a social drinker, drinking is a big part of my social network, and the majority of my close friends live(d) on my street.  The weekend turned into Fun Friday, Saturday BBQ's, Sunday dinner with the family, Monday Bachelor night and suddenly I was only weekend drinking from Thursday-Tuesday.  Taking Wednesday's off seemed totally legit.  And for me, drinking was always around food, so binge drinking turned into binge eating.  I would literally undo every stitch of progress I had made every Friday-Sunday.  Five days of hard work completely ruined.

In May I decided that I wanted to get serious about my health and weight loss, and I worked closely with a few amazing people from my gym, and I cut out all alcohol and completely changed my eating habits for 9 weeks.  I came out of those nine weeks on Fourth of July, and was ready to binge drink.

Drinking a margarita at a 9am 4th of July parade.

Until I started drinking.  And then I realized that I didn't like feeling that way.  I really feel like I came out of those 9 weeks with a much healthier relationship with alcohol.  I had two or three more opportunities to drink in July, and I kept myself at a 1 to 2 drink limit, and I didn't even feel tempted to drink more.  That was a huge win for me, and I felt my relationship with alcohol changing.

So, when my sister and a few other people wanted to take 30 days off of alcohol I volunteered to do it with them.  After all, I had just made it 9 weeks, and had barely had anything to drink during the month of July, so it wouldn't be super hard.  And the thing was, it wasn't super hard.  But I felt like all of the hard work that I had put in those 9 weeks were slipping away, and I was getting back to the 'feast or famine' mentality.

I was walking through Target one day, and I saw the wine aisle and I thought that one glass of wine sounded really nice.  Just one, with my husband over dinner.  A totally grown up, mature way to enjoy alcohol.  But I was on the challenge, so I told myself no, that I could have my one glass (and many more) in September.  And then another similar thing happened, I even poured myself my one glass of wine, but I felt too guilty to drink it.  I promised myself that I could have that one glass (and many more) in September.  And that was the light bulb moment for me.  I was denying myself healthy amounts of alcohol with the promise of binge drinking later.  And that was when I quit the 30 days no drinking challenge.  I was undoing everything that I had worked so hard for, and going back to that immature relationship.

My goal has never been to completely give up alcohol, but to grow up and drink like an adult.  I don't want to crave binge days.  I want to be able to have one glass of wine, or one cocktail and be done for the night.  And I felt like I was on the right track in July, but that the denying myself the ability to make healthy choices, and promise of poor choices later that came with the August challenge was a turning point for me.  And so, I quit, had my cocktail and felt fine.  I didn't want to keep going.  I wanted to be done drinking, and so I was.  I know that this was the right choice for me, and that I am committed to continuing my healthy lifestyle.  Moderation is key, and I'm tired being caught in the feast or famine cycle.

Monday Funday!

I feel like five days is too long to go without blogging.  All of these things happen, and I want to share them, and then I'm like "meh, I'll just verbally unload in one post." And then it turns out to be 3 pages long.  Ha!

Anyways, this weekend went so great!  I stayed on the ball all three days.  I had my cheat meal, I meal prepped for everything else, and overall I was just spot on.  It is so nice coming out of the weekend feeling like 'I rocked that!' instead of thinking 'today's a fresh start,' you know?  And let me tell you, our weekend was jam packed.  Cheer, BMX, family parties, all kinds of stuff.  I think what led me to success was owning what I wanted, and being in control of what went into my body.

All this to say, I did have trials this weekend.  I am PMSing something fierce, and want to inhale all things chocolate.  My trainer told me that when you feel like that to eat things high in goo defats to kill the cravings.  So, I ate a tbsp. of good quality peanut butter and it totally worked!  Anyways, it doesn't cut down on the mood swings, but I'm not sure that's PMS related, or children related.  Oh Camden.  Friday afternoon one of my good friends calls me, we talk about this and that, and as we are ending the conversation she tells me "I just wanted to let you know, when the girls were face timing this morning Camden mooned them."  Argh!  That boy!  So, I go and ask him why he mooned them, and he tells me "Ava wanted me to show her my butt."  Um, no.  No one wants to see that.  (She didn't, he's just rotten).  Keep your pants on.  I have a feeling that's a sentence I'll be saying a lot over the next 13 years.  I got my new drivers license in the mail!  Let me tell you, aside from losing weight in my face, I've aged quite a bit in the last five years.  I'm telling myself that it's all coincidental and has nothing to do with my five year old, but...

left is new; right is old

I made the yummiest, most simple dinner last night!  Seriously.  It was a little bit spicy, a lot bit yummy, great crunch, all of it!  I served it along side salad, and Mark and I were two happy campers.

Shredded Buffalo Chicken

In all honesty, I found this on pinterest.  I can not remember where, so I'll share the recipe that I wrote down, and know that this did not come from my own imagination.  Making this is crazy easy, and you could totally pre make it and throw it in a crock pot to keep it warm and serve it for game day.  Or, pre make it before heading out on a crazy weekend and stuff it in celery to enjoy as you watch your 18th children's sport of the day.

Ingredients:

3 large chicken breasts

2 tbsps butter

1/2 tbsp oil

1/2 cup wing sauce

celery

blue cheese crumbles

lettuce

Boil the chicken until it's easily shredded.  I always overcook my chicken to be safe.  Remove the chicken from the pan and melt the butter, and then add the oil and wing sauce.  Mix it well and then toss in the shredded chicken.  Top with blue cheese crumbles and celery, serve in lettuce boats and voila!  The yummiest dinner ever is served.  

Oooh, I bet it would taste awesome over a sweet potato.  But I've been on a never ending diet for a long time, so don't take my word for that.

What is for dinner this week?  I've got tonight and tomorrow mapped out, so I'm going to wing this a bit, and plan as I type.  

Monday: Party

Tuesday: Orchiette, sausage and brussels tossed in pesto.

Wednesday: (first day of school!)  Breakfast for dinner.  It's a favorite around here.

Thursday: Crockpot balsamic chicken.

Friday: Pizza

I'm on the fence about Thursday's dinner.  I've never made it in the crockpot before, so it'll be a real experience.  I wonder if it'll turn to mush?  Ugh, that would be the pits.  I'm already talking myself out of that meal.   Alright, I'm off to the gym (first time since rehurting my hip!), where I will undoubtedly completely change Thursday's dinner.  I'm going to try a spicy apricot chicken, probably.

Ooh, btw, I decided to have a drink this weekend.  Which kind of means that I failed my goal of no drinking for a month, but I have a whole post written up on my relationship with alcohol, and why this was actually a win that I plan on sharing tomorrow.

I hope that everyone has a fantastic start to their week, happy Monday!

Wednesday Weigh In!

.....you know, the kind without the scale.  Oh man, I am dragging this morning.  This basically sums up my feelings of the day.

Last night I was craving Thai food.  I mean, I would have given one of my children away to get it.  But, I'm committed, so no cravings were going to derail me.  I came home and whipped up a quick stir fry that was ah-mazing.  It totally satisfied the craving, had almost no oil in it, and was way lower in carbs and calories than real Thai food!  It was so good that I'm adding it to the freezer cooking rotation, so I'll take pics and post the recipe tomorrow. 

Onto our main event.  I don't know how I feel about these pictures.  I know I cheated all weekend, and I know I have to pay the price, but I hate it.  One thing is for sure, it's crazy motivating.  I was really tempted to weigh myself this morning, but I know that I can go from eating healthy to full blown disordered eating in two small pounds, so I think it's best for me to stay off the scale.  Anyways, my diet has been perfect these last few days, and all of last M-F, so hopefully I'm able to stay on track this time!

(holy bloat, Batman)

Hopefully in the next two weeks things start moving in the right direction.  Speaking of things in the next two weeks, I'm focusing on surgery prep & my post op needs. 

Post Op Needs:

• sweats (light weight & loose fitting)
• clean out the office so I can put a bed in it
• figure out where Everett is going to sleep
• word on the street is that I need a toilet extender.  I'm sure I'm old enough to buy that.
• order pads for crutches
• freezer cook

Day before surgery:

• mani/pedi
• wax my legs, because I won't be able to bend and do that for 4-6 weeks

My surgery is the Wednesday before Labor Day weekend, so I'm contemplating sending my kids on a trip with my parents for the long weekend.  Cam is so, so touchy and always on top of me, so I feel like it might be safer.  Then again, I wonder if it will stress me out more having them gone.  Augh, so many decisions to be made, and I have virtually no control over anything about to happen in my life.  You'd think I'd be dropping stress weight like crazy.

Wait, what kind of surgery are you having again?

Last October (2013) I was out for a four mile run when I felt a sharp, stabbing pain in my right hip.  I pushed through, and finished my run.  Over the next few months I couldn't run without the pain, and the farther I got the worse it felt.  At one point I described part of my pain as 'feeling like bone was rubbing on bone.'  Still, I opted out of going to the doctor and pushed through the pain and continued to run and train for my half marathon.  In February of 2014 I completed my first ever half marathon, and was in the worst pain of my life.

That was the very last time I've been able to run.  Through out the half marathon training process I worked with a chiropractor to keep me as mobile as possible, but the day after the HM I made an appointment to see my doctor.  At first I was diagnosed with bursitis, an inflammation of the bursa sacs around my hip, and told to do these special stretches and that I should be better within a week.  Beezy pleazy, I had just spent almost 5 months in daily pain, there is no set of magic stretches that are going to fix everything in a week.  I continued to work with my chiropractor who pushed really hard for me to have an MRI, and so in March of 2014 I went for it.

The MRI showed that I had a torn tendon, tendonitis, a possible labral tear and an impingement cyst in my hip joint, and recommended that I have another MRI, this one with contrast.  I remember the night my MRI results came in my doctor called me to give them to me and was going to send me to physical therapy when all of the sudden she was like "Well, do you like running?" Um, yes, obviously, because I had just run 13.1 miles.  And so with those results she decided to send me to an orthopedic doctor, after ordering the MRI with contrast.  The MRI with contrast showed a labral tear, and 3 other cysts forming in my hip joint.

Fast forward through a set on x-rays, a 3D CT scan and an appointment with the orthopedic surgeon, and onto where we now know that I have several tears in my labrum, cysts forming in some of the tears, both a cam and a pincer type FAI, and something fancy called a protrusio.  All of this to say, my hip is jacked up and we are past the point of physical therapy and into the scary land of surgery.  Even though my surgery is already scheduled for August 27 we aren't sure exactly what kind of surgery I'm going to have.

There are two types of surgery to treat this, open FAI surgery and arthroscopic FAI surgery.  The best case scenario will be arthroscopic, but because of the protrusio I may have to have the open surgery.  Focusing on the best case, if I have to have the arthroscopic surgery they will make 4-6 small incisions around the top of my thigh to insert a camera and all of the surgical equipment through, shave down the bone on the top of my femur (ball part of the socket) and the bone on the actual socket to keep it from rubbing together and creating more labral tearing, repair the labrum and anything else that needs fixed.  Overall it should take 4 hours (normal people only take 2, but because of the protrusio there is significantly more bone to shave), and recovery will be 4-6 weeks on crutches, and 6 months until I'm back to normal.

Worst case scenario, they make the tiny incisions, insert the camera and realize 'Woah, this is way too much bone.' Then they pull out, close me up, and reset another surgery date to complete the open FAI repair.  To do that they will have to cut a piece of my femur off, rotate the hip and will have a 100% open view and access to the entire thing.  They will then shave the bones, repair the labrum and anything else that needs fixing, screw the bone back together and close me up.  Recovery this way is a bit steeper, with 6-8 weeks being on crutches, and the same 6 month overall recovery.

So, needless to say I am super scared.  Four weeks on crutches, not being able to bend more than 90 degrees, and raising three small children just doesn't seem possible.  But, I've opted to do the surgery, instead of waiting to see if it will heal on its own, because here we are, just shy of 11 months later, and I'm still in pain.  And not just a little bit of pain, but 'modify everything in my life' kind of pain.  I can't lay on my right side, clearly there is no running, no lunging, no squatting, no deadlifting, no a lot of things.  I can't practice soccer with  my kid because it hurts too bad.  I'm tired of everything hurting, and I can't wait to be able to lay in bed at night, on my right side and watch a TV show.  Or go for a jog.  Oh, how heavenly that sounds.  There are some things that I will probably never be able to do again (like squats), but I can't do those things now, so it seems like a small price to pay.

So, now I'm spending my energy focusing on going into the surgery at my goal weight (132 lbs), able to do a strict pull up, and a hand stand push up, and what I'll need to get or do to make the recovery process easier.  I've read a lot of blogs, and am trying to take this one thing at a time.  Hopefully I'm able to stay positive and accomplish everything that I need to before August 27!

Everything in Moderation....Even Panic

So this weekend it kind of dawned on me that we are in the teens for number of days before my surgery, and I freaked out.  Not in a 'let's clean every surface that we can find' kind of way, more like a 'cry and eat all the food that I see' kind of way.  Obviously that isn't conducive to my weight loss goals, so I need to let go of what happened this weekend and really just move on to tackling things that I can get sorted out now, and focusing on the positive.

Back to this weekend.  We were crazy busy, as we always are, and I was so unprepared with food.  Friday morning the nerves started creeping in, but I kept it together, ate healthy, and allowed myself a cheat of pie and ice cream for dessert.  I figured that would be enough to keep me happy through the weekend.  Ha!  What a fool I was.  Saturday Reese officially started cheer, and we spent all day out at a football field in a town over an hour away.  What I should have done was spend Friday evening prepping chicken, turkey and salad and packed myself a really healthy day.  What I actually did was have two coffees, skip eating and then go over to friends house for a BBQ and eat all of the chips and salsa that I could get my hands on.  Obviously, that went terribly for me.  On the upside, Reese might be the cutest cheerleader ever.  Here's a picture of her squad, clearly I make children that don't grow.

(Yes, that is her in the center.)

Sunday was no less chaotic.  Cam had BMX all morning, and then we had to head to the grocery store so that we could do little things, like eat this week.  I started my day off with a coffee, skipped breakfast and then went to Panera for lunch.  I don't need to go into the details about how dinner was also a diet flop.  

One huge thing that happened on Sunday night was a drinking opportunity.  I took August off of booze with my sister and a few girlfriends, and almost everyone hasn't made it.  I mean, we're 11 days in and I'm pretty sure only two of us have abstained from having a drink.  So, my nerves are frayed, I've been busy all weekend, and Sunday night I get to my mother in law's house and find one of my favorite bottles of wine in her fridge.  I decide to just go for it.  One glass, and I'll be done.  I open it up, pour my sister in law and brother in law's girlfriend a glass, and one for myself.  I sit there and look at it, and in that moment I decided that it wasn't worth it.  I made a commitment to friends, and most importantly, to myself that I was going to take this month and have no booze all of the way through.  It felt like such a huge win.

And this brings us to today, I'm letting go of all of the fails this weekend and I'm getting back on track.  Yesterday I bought a bunch of good stuff, meal prepped and set myself up for success this week.  

Ground turkey might be the key to everything.  Cook it up, season it well and eat it on everything.  It has TONS of lean protein, no carbs and low fat.  I could go on and on, but we will just leave it at that for now. 

This week for dinner we are keeping it super simple.  I need to start freezer cooking so that I can have some sort of a meal plan for after surgery, so I want to try out a few recipes for taste this week, and then if they're good freeze them over the weekend.

Monday: Honey Apricot Chicken. (This one is a freezer cooking test)

Tuesday: Chicken Tacos.

Wednesday: Rotisserie Chicken

Thursday: Chicken Stir Fry

Friday: Pizza.  So unique, I know.

This much chicken makes me wish that I liked fish. 

Oh my gosh.  The funniest Camden conversation happened with Camden this weekend.  He is such a sassy little thing!  He asked for an apple, and we gave it to him, and he ate a few bites and wanted to switch to chips.  Well, this homie don't play that way, and we do not waste food.  You take it, you eat it.  Obviously I refused to let him switch snacks, which then led to this conversation:

Camden: "Well I'm gonna call 991 and tell them that I don't even have any parents."

Me: "Well then the police will put you in jail for lying to them."

Camden: "Well then I would be freaking scared!"

I was CRACKING UP after that conversation.  Oh, and before you wonder, yes, we talked about how freaking scared is not an appropriate thing for a five year old to say.  He then told me that it was because it's how he would feel.  Sassy I tell you.  

p.s. I totally forgot to mention this, but I am rocking getting dressed every day!  AND, I'm still not pregnant! #winning 

p.s.s. The pregnant thing is a joke, because if you watched Desperate Housewives, Lynette got pregnant. 

A Little of This and A Lot of That

Things are about to get crazy around here.  Fall sports are starting, which means we literally have something to do every...single....night for the next three months.  Oh, and I'm having hip surgery at the end of the month and will be on crutches for most of September.  No big deal, I can totally get three kids in three different directions for a month, all while not being able to drive.  Ha!  What doesn't kill us, right?  Actually, how I'm really going to get through this is my amazing village.  Everyone is offering to help in any way that they can, and I am totally taking them up on their offers. I swear, I have some of the best friends.  Oh, and I also have Everett's hernia repair surgery the second week in September.  Poor planning on my part, to put it mildly!

Cam started soccer last night, and it may have been the cutest thing that I've ever seen.  He is totally loving it, AND, he's actually paying attention and following the rules!  If this is any insight as to how kindergarten is going to go I feel like I can take a huge sigh of relief.

I mean, look at how sweet that smile is.  Clearly he's the next pint sized David Beckham.

Reese is in cheer, and tumbling, and flyers class and every other thing that seems to come with cheer, but I've never seen her like a sport as much as she likes cheer.  We tried everything first, and she just doesn't have that competitive spirit that seem to be required for the other sports.  Sometimes (most times) I think that she has a heart of gold.  She is so quick to point out the positive, and is fiercely loyal to her friends, and I love that with cheer the group of girls she started with will be the same group that she cheers with through high school.  Anyways, I don't have any pictures of her because my phone broke (errr....got dropped), and I can't use the right side of the screen to do fun things like take pictures, or make calls.

So I previously mentioned losing 15 lbs, and how proud I am of myself for it!  I worked my butt off for those pounds, and I am so happy with the results.  Coming out of the challenge I was so nervous about rebounding and gaining all of the weight back.  I'm still not at my goal weight, and now isn't the time for me to worry about getting there, but it also isn't the time for me to pity eat a bag of Cheetos every night either, ya know?  I've been taking the diet more in moderation, not tracking calories or macros, just eating as clean as I could while still enjoying life.  I've been so nervous that I've gained weight that I haven't stepped on the scale since the 4th of July.  But, surgery is coming, and my goal is to go into it weighing 132 pounds.  I was 138.6 on the 4th, and I have no idea where I am now, but all of my clothes are fitting the same, so I'm hopeful that I've maintained.  With only three weeks until surgery now is definitely the time to buckle down if I want to accomplish that goal.  So, I'm back on the MyFitnessPal app, consistently weighing and tracking my food, and back in the gym 4-6 days a week.  Oh, I'm also back off of the booze train.  It just sucks all of your weight loss away from you.  Life can be such a bitch like that.  

I need to keep track, and since I'm not going to step on the scale until surgery morning I need to keep track somehow.  I've decided that I'm going with weekly photos.  This is really putting it all out there, and taking a huge chunk of courage, but part of this journey is building my self confidence, so here goes nothing.  This is what I looked like on the morning of 4th of July:

And here is where we are at this morning:

(remember when I said I broke my phone?  no fancy apps to fit everything into one pic anymore)

I wish I would have done the same pose for the original and then this week.  Next week I for sure will!  Hopefully over the next three weeks there will be a noticeable difference.  And then, hopefully there are abs there next summer. Hey, a girl can dream, right?