A Letter to my Nemesis

Dear Jillian Michaels,

Oh, how I hate your stinking guts. Every time you say, “fight it!” and “I want you to feel like you are going to die”, I just grunt out obscenities and feel rage welling up inside of me. I hate your rocking body and the knowledge that mine will never look like that. I want you to stop smiling during work-outs; I would feel much better if you were crying the way I want to cry while I’m doing a “goddess” hold or attempting “rock-star” jumps. Cry, Jill! CRY!

That said, I also love you. I love the changes I do see and the new sizes I haven’t fit into since fifth grade. The last scale visit I had (only for doctor appointments, I never keep one in the house) left me astonished and I wanted to shout it from the roof-tops! Your work-outs are short enough that I can do them with my daughter around and effective enough that I feel like I’ve done a good job rather than wasted my time.

So, rage on, Jillian.

Love, Hillary

My favorite work-out is Jillian Michaels’ Yoga Meltdown. It helps with my MS symptoms and kicks my can every time. What are your favorites?

Twist and Shout

Seriously though, have you ever had a mammogram? Holy crap, that hurts! I’ve had far too many at my relatively young age and will have them pretty frequently, probably for life. No worries; today’s didn’t result in a biopsy or lumpectomy (though I do enjoy a good anesthesia-induced nap), just another one in six months. Now THAT is something to look forward to. The room today was freezing, like runny nose kind of cold. And I’m standing in there, bare breasted while an icy, gloved hand maneuvered my girls around. Then, she’d hold them in place as she closed the machine down on them. Just as I thought that I couldn’t take the pain for a second longer (and this coming from me, who was in labor for 71 full hours, so I’m pretty tough), she’d stop the machine. Thank goodness, right? Wrong. Then she’d manually tighten it up a couple of notches more. She’d tell me to hold my breath while she took the x-ray, but I always already was. I find that in moments of extreme agony, I tend to stop breathing anyway. My last mammo wasn’t nearly so brutal and I sort of scoffed at women who complain about them. Oh, how I repent of that. Last time, I didn’t have a mess of scar-tissue from July’s lumpectomy. Yeah, my boobs are getting prettier and prettier as time passes.

Sitting out in the waiting room between the mammo and the breast ultrasound, another woman caught my eye. She was observing social etiquette and not mentioning how awkward it was that we were sitting there in silence, bra-less and wearing a little smock/shirt that we were desperately trying to keep closed. I can never handle good manners for very long, so I said, “You know, I’m thinking of taking this sweet shirt home so that I can wear it in my family portrait.” She was obviously unimpressed with my lack of couth and said, “At least they are pink.” To which I replied, “Yes, it helps maintain an air of femininity.”

Really I don’t know what kind of a comment you could possibly make in regards to this post, so the pressure is off.

Triumph of Darby

We've had another successful visit to the dentist! Darby does such a great job; she sits in that big chair like such a grown-up (well, better than some grown-ups, actually), follows directions and makes her mama so proud! The staff and dentist get such a kick out of her and she just gives me a thumbs-up the whole time. I am proud of her for being such a good brusher and such a good patient. She has been trying to brush her teeth again all morning.

When I asked her to smile for the webcam, this is what she gave me. Apparently Darby is a pirate. Oh, and she told me that she wants to be a tooth for Halloween. Any ideas on how to pull that off?

Beautiful Darby

"Kids: they dance before they learn there is anything that isn't music." ~William Stafford

Tenemos Un Meaty-Meaty

You know that episode of Friends where Phoebe talks about lobsters? Well, long ago Bingham (my best friend and dearest mission companion) and I decided that we are like friend lobsters. Like, if we could be sealed to a friend for time and all eternity, Bing and I would be sealed to eachother.

And as wonderful as she is and as much as I love her, I am terrible at remembering her birthday! It is tomorrow, September 18th. She will be 30. Anyway, for years I’ve had it in my head that her birthday was October 18th and one year, I called her on October 19th and said, “Bing, I’m such a jack-ass. I forgot to call you on your birthday yesterday.” And she said, “No Judd. You are a jack-ass because you forgot to call me on my birthday a month ago.” And that’s my Bing.

So, in an attempt to redeem myself to her (I cannot blog everyone's birthday, but I owe it to Bing after all my birthday failings!), this post is to commemorate Bingham’s 30th birthday. I will follow the format set out by the primary for the birthday spotlight.

Name: Alicia Bingham Loor

Favorite Color: well, I’m not sure. That’s weird of me. But, she looks great in blue.

Favorite Food: Chifa, last time we lived together.

Favorite Thing To Do: Bing loves to be with her daughter, Evelyn, and her dog, Raya. She spends a lot of time caring for her family. She loves to read and is very, very intelligent. She also loves rugby because she is a total bad-A!

Favorite Place To Go: Bing likes to go to Ecuador. And any lake. She loves swimming (and water skiing).

Favorite Primary Song: Well, we didn’t do much primary together, but we did have to sing a lot of duets in Carapungo (every Sunday, as it were!).

Favorite Scripture Story: Bingham knows everything about the scriptures. If you make reference to some vague verse, she will be able to tell you exactly what book, chapter, and verse it is. She is amazing that way.

Something Fun For Others To Know: Bingham and I bonded our very first hour together when we somehow found out that our moms did the very same dances when we would go to Old Navy with them. She even re-enacted it for me, and it was flawless. Bingham has the ability to make anyone laugh about anything at all.

Bingaling, you are amazing. I love so much and am so thankful that you were born. Happy Birthday!

Conspiracy Theory 101

I am absolutely unhinged sometimes and I know it. A magnificent neurotic mess.

Now that you know (if you didn’t already), I’ll fill you in on one of my latest obsessions; the flu vaccination. Now, I always have Darby inoculated for the seasonal flu, but not the H1N1 virus. It’s too new and it was so shady to me the way it was pushed with scare tactics. Well, last year, not enough people got the H1N1 vaccine, so now it is just a component of the regular flu shot. So, what do I do? I think it is a freaky maneuver to force you to get both when you only want one or the other. I called Darby’s pediatrician’s office and they told me that a seasonal flu shot without the H1N1 component was not manufactured. Now I don’t know what is scarier; no vaccine or a two-fer vaccine, the second component of which is not something I want injected into my child. I’m all for modern medicine, but I also believe that there is something behind the push for inoculation. Now it is not just being pushed for the young and the elderly; it’s a push for universal vaccination. That is also weird. What do you think? I need some serious opinions here.

I’m this close to the brink of my sanity.

(p.s. as I was looking at cartoons for this post, I found freaky information about conspiracy theories that this is biological warfare, etc. Pretty freaky stuff. You should look it up a bit.)

Too Cool

For weeks Darby has been prepping me for the beginning of preschool. “Mom, you can’t come to my school with me.” Sure I heard what she said, but I felt confident that when it came down to it, she would want me there. I mean, she would want me there, right?

The day fast approached and Darby informed me that she would be taking the bus to school. I informed Darby that she would never take a bus to school.

T minus two days and counting is when Darby decided she wanted me to come to school with her. It warms a mother’s heart to hear her child console her with flattery; flattery which I was eager to accept.

The first day of preschool finally arrived and Darby was ready to go! She was ready to go from the moment she awakened and was dressed to the nines an hour before school started. We got in the car and made our way toward the huge milestone ahead of us.

We walked into the school and Darby quickly found her cubby and chair. As others filtered in, I hung back and just watched Darby enjoying her new adventure. Kids were clinging to their mothers’ legs, screaming while their little hands were pried away from their safety net. My sweet baby was doing fine, so I decided that I’d better leave before she realized that she, too, needed her mama.

I approached her to give her a kiss and tell her what a great day it was going to be for her. As I neared my darling 4 year old on her first day of school, she looked up at me with an angelic, if not surprised, face.

“Why are you still here?” were her actual words.

So much for a baby needing her mama! I slinked away in embarrassment at the snub I had just received from my posterity.

Darby is doing great in preschool and is not troubled by any pesky attachment to her nerdy mom.


(sorry for the terrible picture; we finally got a charger for our camera battery, but now i cannot find the cord to attach it to the computer, so i web-cammed a picture from the camera. i know, i'm ghetto).