Yesterday began like any other Monday. Fluffette and I have started a new morning ritual that involves us both having our first drink of the day in bed. While I sip on my coffee and she
down gracefully drinks her bottle, we watch the morning news. Now, I’m sure
some of you want to lecture me on why I shouldn't give her a bottle in bed with
me in the morning…..save your breath. This
is one bad habit that I am fully OK with and I hope we do this until she goes
off to college, or trade school or wherever the world takes her.
About halfway through my coffee I realized that I was rubbing the remains of my Food Baby Belly. I won’t say that I “fell off the wagon” but my left leg was dangling (it’s the heavier leg and could easily pull the rest of me overboard). I looked back on my past few days and realized that I was getting WAY too comfortable with cheating here and there. Each chip from El Fenix, chicken tender from Cane’s and peanut butter cookie counts. It all adds up……TO A FAT AZZ!!!
I've done the whole “fat” thing before and I refuse to go back. I decided right then and there that it was time to get my shyt together. I began logging my food again. Not on My Fitness Pal because I know I won’t follow through with that. I did it the ol’ fashioned way, pen to paper. I keep a notepad on my kitchen counter with my daily allotment and what I've eaten so far. It definitely makes me think twice about putting something in my mouth when I know I have to record it. (twss).
Obviously the whole “workout everyday” thing just ain’t workin yo. So, my new (more manageable) plan is to workout 5 days a week. I have found that the devil owns the weekends and I just can’t seem to make myself workout. I’m on Day 2 of Week 2 of Ripped in 30 so I’m well on my way to achieve my new goals.
I decided Monday that I would weigh myself in hopes that I’d gained weight so that it would better motivate me. Well color me happy because I weighed 177.4. That’s over a pound lost..even with my cheatin’ ways! I’ll take it!! I was so excited that I was so close to my pre-pregnancy weight that I did a happy dance in the mirror. And there it was……a pimple the size of China. I’m not overexaggerating on this one. It has its own pulse and its own zip code. All friggin day Monday and Tuesday, I kept managing to hit my girthy pimple and that shyt hurt. Tuesday, I decided that pain isn’t worth it so I covered it with a bandaid. I pointed to it in the picture since its flesh tone so you TOTALLY can’t see it.
Damn it Feels Good to be a Gangster
I pretty much hate V-Day and hate celebrating it. This year we decided that we would take a CHL (concealed handgun class) together. As you all know, I’ve been packing some heat for a while now….
But it was time to take it to a whole new level. The night before the class, Mr. Fluff showed me how to load and unload the gun…..and I jammed it. This wasn't starting off very well. I pretty much knew this meant I would not only fail the class but that we would possibly be taking a trip to the ER when I shot off my own foot.
There were about 13 people in our class, and two other women. Phew! The instructor started going over a gun, how to hold it, how to shoot it, gun safety, etc. He kept talking about “muffs and plugs”. Clearly he means “earmuffs and earplugs” for safety…but The Fluffs are not mature enough for this. He just kept saying “you always need a good pair of muffs or plugs” or “ you can get good muffs or plugs anywhere” We both had to put our coffee cups in front of our mouths because we were moments away from LOSING.IT! For a second, I thought we were gonna get kicked out of class within the first hour.
He then informed us that we’d get the shooting portion out of the way first thing. And the nerves set in. I mean, I think I've shot MAYBE one gun in my life. As we drove to the shooting range, I was nervous. Like “ihopeidontgetexplosivediarrheaonthisshootingrange” nervous.
The instructor paired us up and off we went. I, of course, got paired with Old Man River. (not Mr. Fluff). I can only assume that he was 123 years old. He said “hi, what are you shooting today”. To which I replied, “oh….um….a gun…”. He didn't say much more to me.
The first couple of times I shot the gun, I’m pretty sure I peed a little. I just kept saying “please don’t hurt anyone, please don’t hurt anyone”. Fifty rounds later at three different distances, and not only do I still have my foot……I didn't do half bad!!
A little later, Mr. Fluff asked how I felt and how it felt holding a gun. Well, I pretty much just NAILED it so I went all Hustle and Flow on his azz. I said, “Look mayn….I mean…it thay’s a perp all up in my biz-ness..I just be like (makes fake gun with hand and turns it sideways for the kill shot) ‘boom boom’ yo”. Mr. Fluff, of course, shook his head, giggled and said “stoooopid”.
At the end of the longest day in the history of America, I’d done it!!! I passed with a 98 out of 100!!! In a few months I’ll receive my CHL and Fluffy’ll be packin’.
To all the perps out there….I triple dog dare you to eff with my family. *immediately kneels in to Charlie’s Angels pose*