Just An Appetizer

It would seem to some of you that I am taking my sweet time posting about what may very well be the highlight of my year.

( California Open Competition Weekend. )

(Notice my usage of capitalization so as to emphasize its importance.)

Well, that "some of you" would be correct. I have been stalling. I am holding out for photos. I will continue stalling and holding back details until the photos arrive and I can give the weekend its proper love and recognition here.

This is (Me!) the brave girl and her dance teacher (or is it the girl with her brave dance teacher?) all dressed up, made up, and bedazzled and just about ready to dance.

We competed Pro/Am.

Pro/Am: When a professional dancer partners an amateur student like myself.

(I use the term amateur loosely here, as I am more of a dancing infant.)

Here is a closer look at the hair:

You are seeing rhinestones that were glued across my forehead and meticulously pinned into place here in the back. More than an hour of twisting, pinning, hairspraying, hair extension securing and flat out love went into bringing this head of hair to the dancefloor that morning.

For this I thank my teacher's professional partner for sacrificing her sleep after a late flight into town, and waking up before the roosters, just to help me out.



She is also the force behind the make-up and the dress.





I had no concept, really, of how much time and energy goes into looking the part.





I also had no concept of how many hairpins go into looking the part.

A Million Forkets.

Forket: Bulgarian for Hairpin

A new word for me.

Here is a picture of the actual hairpins I removed from my hair while taking it down:

(P.S. I am certain I dropped a few - and since my hair was the texture and firmness of a basketball and the pins crunched as I removed them, I fear there still may be a few left in my hair today.)

More to come later...

Ever Have "One Of Those Days"?

It's been awhile for me.

Every day I try to notice and fill my mind with things that make me smile - even the littlest things - like how there were exactly 2 slices of bread left for my sandwich at lunch time and neither was the heel, or how the ipod magically shuffled my current favorite song to play first while I was getting ready, or even the extra few seconds I spent in an especially good hug.

I think this approach lends itself to my being a typically pleasant and happy person.

I had a little trouble with this today. I know I'm having trouble, when to stay positive I am actually feeling the need to search other days for something to draw upon.

Me! Me, with two out of two legs.

Me, with the kind of great health that makes my doctor of 9 years raise an eyebrow at me and ask if I have ever been in to see him before because he doesn't even recognize me.

I could go on and on...

Well, now I could...

because I finally remembered what I do about days like this:

And did you notice the extra bubbles? I even ran the jets a few minutes before I settled in, just to fluff them up a bit. And now I am about to top the evening off with a mug of good hot chocolate and then a good night's sleep.

I am beginning to recall glimpses of pleasant moments squashed between an otherwise black-cloud-over-the-head day...

Hey, any day that ends like this could not have been all that bad, right?

Oy!

I have a weakness (Okay, I have several), not the least of which is baked goods. It is really a love-hate relationship I have with people who offer them to me.

It goes a little like this:

(Accepting the plate:)

I LOVE you.

(First bite:)

I REALLY love you.

(Staring at crumbs on plate after 10th brownie:)

I HATE you.

And you hate me too.

Admit it, this is some kind of conspiracy against my quest for the perfect (Okay, not perfect - who are we kidding..) body.

Okay, maybe I am being a bit dramatic.

Yesterday I had a brownie. A very wonderfully delicious brownie.

I always tell my kids, especially when they are staring at cauliflower or some other pointless food on their plate, "If you like it, eat it slow. If you don't like it, eat it fast!"

I ate this brownie very slow. I enjoyed every moment of it. ( am certain I can see the outline of it on my hips through my pants this morning, but I don't care.)

It was lovely.

Legs Tired... Arms Tired... EVERYTHING Tired...

Welcome to my world.

Land of the delighted toddler who has mastered

the recently acquired talent

of climbing out of his crib.

Here is a question for you:

How many times must you return an escaped toddler to his bed before he finally gives in and goes to sleep?

That probably sounded like a riddle, but it's not.

I don't know the answer.

It's a number higher than I can count.

A toddler doesn't just get out of his crib, he triumphantly escapes.

He bursts open the door of his bedroom with absolute celebration.

He runs down the hall, down the stairs, down to wherever you are, and then he smiles at you in a really HUGE way.

He doesn't notice that you are not smiling back.

Here is a simple truth for you:

When you are engaged in toddler bedtime warfare,

and it comes down to who will have the most energy

- the toddler for climbing out of the crib, or you for putting him back into the crib -

He wins.

And he knows it.

I Love Good People!

In our high-speed internet, drive-thru, credit card, instant gratification world,

I just have to throw a few words of appreciation out to the universe

for an orthodontist who would call me up at 8pm

just to ask how I was doing and answer any questions I might have.

Totally unnecessary, yet totally appreciated.

It's really hard to be annoyed about the braces when you are in such caring hands.

(Hard, but not impossible.)

(I am trying.)

(I am failing, but I am trying.)

Yay Good People!

One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

The good news:

There is a movie-star smile in my future.

The bad news:

There was only one way I was going to make this happen, and it involves braces.

Again.

Bummer.

So today, against every wish of my heart (except the one for that movie star smile, which apparently was pretty compelling), I allowed my orthodontist to do his thing.

He kept asking me how I was doing. I kept asking him if he meant physically or emotionally.

It's only for 12 weeks. I suppose that is good news too, right? I can do anything for 12 weeks. There are some things I'd rather not do for 12 weeks (and this is one of them), but what's done is done.

If I hadn't pre-paid this man, I am certain I would have bailed on the whole idea.

But, again, what's done is done.

And so the countdown begins...

11 weeks and 6 days to go.

11 weeks, 5 days, 23 hours, 59 minutes and some odd seconds to go....

HEY! Speaking of countdowns... I MUST MUST mention that though competition weekend has come and gone, my 10 pound countdown continues... And in case you were wondering how I was doing:

ONE!!! ONE!!!

One pound to go to reach my goal!!

I Know What You Are Looking For...

I do.

You are looking for an update on my fantasy weekend.

I know.

The thing is,

I simply can not put into words my experience this weekend.

Oh, I will, just not yet.

You will just have to be patient little blog readers, because I have a wonderful experience to share with you once I've sorted through all my thoughts, details, and of course, pictures.

Until then, my friends.

A Personal Triumph

I flew in an airplane. This is huge news. Because of a frightening airplane experience about 8 years ago, I have not travled in an airplane for 8 years. Interestingly, the reason I haven't flown is not exactly because of the scary plane thing like most people think - though, that could be reason enough to justify my fear.
The reason I have refused to fly is because of the flight AFTER the scary flight.
I was on my way to a family reunion with Paul and the kids.

We booked a flight.

No problem.

We boarded the flight.

No problem.

The flight took off.

Problem.

Honestly, I had not even given any thought to the "bad" flight since we arrived home safely and got on with our lives. However, my body knew something my mind did not know. Somewhere down deep, I must have been scared. First, I had a little trouble breathing, then I was hyperventilating, then I was shaking in my seat. All the while I am thinking - this is ridiculous,
but sometimes logic doesn't reign. I was in a bit of a panic.

I was mortified.

I was terrified.

And then, eventually, I was fine. (Kinda)

Still, it was kind of a freaky incident. That I couldn't reason my way out of it, just bothered me in a way I cannot describe. The fact that I could not predict whether or not it could happen again, or if I could stop it if it did, was enough for me to resign myself to road trips indefinitely.
I love road trips anyway.

Well, it was time.

And, it WAS time.

I reserved a flight that was my ticket to doing something I really wanted to do.

I booked the flight.

No Problem.

I boarded the flight.

No problem.

The flight took off.

No Problem.

I told myself that I was on a very large bus. I took a book, but instead chatted with a friend the whole way. At times my bus was a little fast, tilted, and bumpy, but I really tried not to notice. Once I looked up from my seat, and my bus really resembled an airplane. I got a little nervous and scared, I won't lie, but then I returned to my conversation and forgot about it. My bus landed, and I was in California.

Triumphant. Isn't the mind a wonderful thing?

Happy Valentine's Day!

Love is strange and wonderful.

Today, love is being a mother of four, away from her family for the weekend in a luxurious hotel room.

I spent the whole day doing my most favorite thing - dancing.

I went to bed very, very late last night.

I slept in until I could sleep no more. When I woke up, it was not to a crying baby, or to decide whose turn it was for the TV remote.

I got dressed, and nobody walked in on me in the bathroom.

I ate breakfast without a single person making a demand on me.

And I ate what I wanted to eat.

I can do whatever I want to do today, but what I want to do most is hold my sweetheart's hand, kiss my baby's chubby cheeks, snuggle on the couch with my youngest daughter, listen to my oldest daughter tell me every detail about her day, and watch my son's latest trick.

Strange, yes. And wonderful.

Like Peanut Butter & Jelly

Have you ever noticed how some things just go together well?

Some of my personal favorite combinations:

Cheesecake & Fresh Strawberries...

Black & White...

Rest & Relaxation

Movies & Popcorn

Manicure & Pedicure

And now...

+

Latin Dance Aerobics!

Really!

Really!

This is what was going on at the gym yesterday when I showed up.

A whole room full of ladies in sneakers, shaking their thing like it was nobody's business.

I really didn't need another obsession.

Well, I will think of this as just a happy marriage of two obsessions I already have.

If you have not tried this then, simply, you must.

It was soooooo much fun I forgot I was exercising.

Forgot I was exercising? What could be better than that?

P.S. Don't let the curvy latin diva in the front of the room fool you. You are about to sweat your butt off.

Five!

Perhaps you noticed that I skipped right over six.

That's right, I did.

A Fan Is Born!

Win or no win, what a game! I know I wasn't the only one on my feet the whole last three minutes straight!

I can't say I've ever been much of a Cardinals fan... or even a pro football fan... (I tend to prefer college football) but I have always loved the Superbowl. And, yesterday, I loved the way the Cardinals fought for their game. How can you watch a team pull it together and claw that kind of a comeback without becoming a fan? I can't.

P.S. Great party, Diane!

All Right Already!

Tomorrow, if you have been keeping track with me, marks my 1/2 way point in my 10 pounds in 3 weeks goal. It was a lofty goal, I'll admit it, but since when has that ever deterred me?

If all was going according to plan, this would be the number 5 you were looking at. 1/2 way through my time, 1/2 way to my goal, right? Wrong-O! I am holding firm at 7 pounds to go.

The truth is, that posting up my "7" breaks one of my rules. I have the rule that I don't claim a pound until I have lost the next pound, that way I know it's really gone and not just the varying amounts of water I drank at bedtime the night before.

I don't like to break my slightly neurotic self-imposed rules because breaking my own rules seems just a bit crazier than setting them in the first place, but in this case I shall make an exception as I am hungry for progress. I am breaking it because I need to claim this pound.

I have been without it for days, but I just can't seem to let go of the next one...

Exactly.

It would seem I am stuck in a bit of a plateau.

I have seen nothing but more of the same for days, and I am running out of time. 10 days. 10 days...

I am kicking up my workout intensity, though I have to be careful not to burn myself out so badly that I can't dance (which is kind of the point of all of this). I consume 2 - 250 calorie protein shakes and 500 additional calories a day... so eating has been pretty strict also.

Help! Got any great plateau busting tricks?

I still have 10 days, right? (Attitude adjustment in progress.)