Phew!

This past holiday season I did more baking than in any three previous years combined.  More importantly, I've done more eating of said baked goods than normal.  (But, dude, chocolate chip macaroons?  Easy, fast and delicious before and after baking.)

So it was no surprise when I gained five pounds.

After enjoying myself through New Year's, I put the brakes on and began making some healthier choices.  Lost a couple pounds right away.

A week ago I weighed myself for the first time in maybe 10 days.  I was stunned, shocked and concerned to see that I had gained about 13 pounds.

Thirteen pounds.  In 10 days.

I'll just admit that the idea of a tumor popped right up.  But let's be honest, that's kind of my first response to everything.  Missed my period right after Tom and I agreed we weren't having kids together?  Gotta be a tumor!

If the brakes had been put on before, the keys were now removed.

And I gained two more pounds by yesterday.

I mentioned the situation to Tom and Nance, but lightly, like, "Haha, no reason to be frightened, I know what I'd been eating.  I guess it just took a minute to catch up to me."

I started an exercise routine last night that kicked my butt.

Today?  Gained another pound.

Concerned?  Shocked?  Stressed?  Oh yeah.

Then this fantastic little kid of mine who can't seem to get passed the 23 pound mark stepped on the scale.  She weighed 40 pounds.  And her sister, who was very recently right on the cusp of 40 pounds?  Try 56.

Fucking stupid digital scale.  I'll get new batteries this weekend.

I weighed myself at my dad's house this morning.  In full clothes, including jeans.  After breakfast.  On the first day of my period.  And I needed to use the restroom (every ounce counts, people!).  And I was still 15 pounds less than I had been only 90 minutes earlier at my home, naked.

I haven't gained weight.  In fact, in three days I can pretty much guarantee that I'll lose three to five pounds, which will put me right back to my pre-holiday number.

Came home tonight and stuck with my exercise plan, because it is still needed.  No longer secretly wondering if I'm going to die.  Openly feeling kind of stupid because now that the moment has passed, I am forced to recognize that my clothes still fit the same and that the scale had been kind of wonky lately.

Whatever.

Me vs. The World

About a week ago I was stressing at work about how much we need to get done before our party this coming Saturday. Have I mentioned the party? It's an open house shindig for Madelyn's first birthday and our housewarming. How long have we lived here? Well by Saturday, we will have lived here for three whole weeks.

Jill sat down and gave me the old "you have your schedule, but don't forget that the world has its own schedule and sometimes we have to bow to the world" speech. I nodded and agreed outwardly. Inwardly I was thinking, "True, but I still have to get all of these things done by Wednesday."

Many of the things on our to do list are really necessary before Saturday. A lot has been done, but they're not the big pretty things, like painting the cabinets or staining the new table and chairs. Last weekend Tom and my dad installed all the really important blinds, changed our front door lock (again!), replaced a part on the washing machine connection and fixed the garage door opener (it worked fine, but had been disabled while the house was up for sale). I cleaned up the cabinets that Corey and I had started painting. During this past week Tom has been busting his hind end to get boxes unpacked and things put into place.

I have been running around like a chicken with my head cut off. To say I'm overwhelmed is... not even close. This morning I woke up because I thought I heard someone telling me that I shouldn't be sleeping at a time like this. You mean at 5:15 in the morning? After being up with Madelyn for 90 minutes starting at 3:00 AM because she's got a head cold and her afternoon nap turned into bedtime?

During the past few days I have been paring down the list of have-to-dos. Finishing the cabinets is no longer in the equation. In fact, I'm not sure how they snuck into the equation in the first place. When people show up on Saturday, we will have deep dark cabinets on either end, but the center will be wood.

Last night I finally got to work on our new chairs. We also have a ginormous new table that is still unassembled and raw. It seats 10. Let me tell you how glad I am that the chairs we loved best are discontinued; we could only get 8 chairs. Whew!

Today Corey and I got all the chair sanding done, and a couple coats of stain onto four of the chairs. Tomorrow I'll be working on the rest of them, along with the table. I have to go to work on Friday, so Corey'll be in charge of sealing everything. Lucky for all of us, Corey's helped with every staining project I've ever done, and he's the only one who worked on Madelyn's dresser before she was born. The boy knows what he's doing.

Aside from general cleaning and unpacking, the other things that have to be done are for Tom: installing all the cabinet doors and drawers that are painted; putting blinds in the downstairs bathroom and installing all the toilet paper holders and hand towel bars.

And in the midst of all this, we are getting sick. Margaret has a cough that sounds awful, but she feels great, I guess. However, now Mad's gotten the cough and the muck in the nose to go with it. Tom is also catching something, probably due to exhaustion he's more susceptible. And I... am either PMSing or I'm not.