Remember the last time that I wrote about WW and I said my heart/head didn’t wanna play the WW game? Remember when I showed you fancy graphs of how my weight loss had flat-lined? Remember how I said I needed some inspiration?

Well, it’s 3 months later and today could write the exact same post.

Ugh.

I am happy to report that I did make it through Halloween, Christmas, Valentines and Easter and only gained 4 pounds. This, to me, is a miracle.

You see friends, the holidays are rough for the likes of me.

I literally ate a bag of jelly beans a day for 5 days straight. A BAG A DAY PEOPLE.

Hello, my name is Molly and I have a problem.

I’m pretty sure that Weight Watchers spokesperson Jennifer Hudson doesn’t eat a bag of jelly beans a day. She probably eats grilled chicken and celery. Her waist is tiny and beautiful and not filled with tiny jelly beans.

Thankfully, all the sugar has been banished from the house and I am on day 5 of WW. Like, the for real WW. The one where you actually count points, rather than thinking about how many points it may be and stuffing it in your mouth with reckless abandon. Ya know, the kind of WW that I’ve been doing for months. It’s not really working for me.

Newsflash, when I count points, I lose weight. What a miracle!

Ya know, calories in, calories out, yada, yada, yada.

Anyway, I’m standing here in front of all of you confessing my lack of disciple and confessing my desire to lose 12 pounds in 6 weeks.

I can totally do it. I know I can. I’ve done it before and I can again. If only I will stick to the plan!!!!

Wanna do it too? Pretty please with sugar on top. Lots of sugar. Or maybe Splenda?

Help people. WW is tough for a sugaraholic. I need all the help/encouragment/love that I can get! Tell me how you’re gonna join me. We can do this my peeps!

38 pounds gone.

It’s true. All the glorious months of eating whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted it are gone too. Unfortunately.

That’s the great thing about pregnancy. I just eat. And eat. And eat.

I figure that I have my whole life to lose weight, right?

That brings me to today.

It’s true that 38 pounds is a lot of poundage. It really is.

But here’s the catch, it’s all baby weight. Now I’m back to my not so skinny normal weight. Sure I’m not technically overweight, but still, there’s plenty-o-jiggle.

That’s the crazy thing about growing a tiny human in your belly (or 2 of them in 1.5 years), even when the weight comes off, your body is different. Or mine is anyway. All of you gals who look exactly the same as you did before you had a baby: congratulations. Really, I’m not bitter. Nope, not one bit.

I, unfortunately am not one of those girls. While I’m at a comfortable weight for me, the jiggle abounds.

That brings me back to your friend and mine, Weight Watchers.

Below you’ll see a graph of my weight loss since I began in mid-July. (Aren’t I fancy for showing you a graph! So unlike me!)

Notice how the weight at first it was practically falling off me? Then if you’ll notice around October, it was, um, NOT falling off me. Take a closer look below from October to now.

Basically friends, I’ve flat-lined so to speak. I’ve been more much interested in consuming as many cupcakes as possible rather than losing weight. I admit it.

And exercise? Forget about it.

The Holidays are a sugarholics dream/nightmare come true.

So now what?

I’m not gonna lie. My heart has just not been in it. I am a firm believer that in order to effectively lose weight your heart and your head have to be in the game….and mine hasn’t been.

(Gotta getcha getcha getcha head in the game)- Throwback to High School Musical. Holla!

Now that we’ve had our musical break, back to the situation at hand.

The fact is that I’m thrilled the baby weight is gone, but I really and truly want to lose more. I’m greedy like that. I would LOVE  to lose at least 15 more pounds before the dreaded bathing suit season. If not, I think I may purchase a swim dress while my babies are too young to be embarrassed. Wholesome Wear anyone?

I’ve gotta get back to it. Maybe…tomorrow?

Anyone feel this way? Frustrated and annoyed with the pursuit of weight loss. It’s like the Neverending Story, but without the cool flying dragon/puppy, Falcor.

Anyone? Bueller? Bueller?

Well friends, it’s been 4 months since beginning my trek through the ditches of Weight Watchers. I’m not gonna lie, this past month has been really tough.

I know on my last update I was all, “Wow WW is easy peasy delicious! Everyone in the whole wide world should do it.” And then, October happened with all its candy glory.

For a candy addict like myself, October and WW do not mix well. So, I kind of fell off the wagon so to speak. In fact, I fell into a pool of Milky Way, Twix and Snickers bars. Honestly, it was kind of awesome.

But now, all good things must come to an end and I’m back together with WW.

So now, after 4 months I’ve lost 31.6 pounds. Hooray!

I’m only a few pounds from my pre-baby weight and I’m hoping that I’ll exceed my goal and lose at least 10 more pounds by Christmas. We shall see…I can already smell the Christmas fudge cooking (which is never a good thing for the ole waistline).

How are you guys doing? Any reports on your adventures with WW? Recipes???

I’m not one of those gals who gets all in a tizzy about her hair. I’ve never once cried over a haircut or color gone wrong. It will grow back after all, right? Hopefully?

Anyway, my days of non-tizziness came to a screeching halt a few months ago when I declared that I hated, HATED, hated my hair. Too long, too dark, too awful.

So, what did I do? I slapped it up in a pony-tail every.single.day.

I became the typical stay at home mom who had on no make-up, hair up and a coffee mug in hand.

I’m not proud of this folks.

While it’s not practical for me to wear high heels every day, for me, it’s important to feel good about myself. I figure that we all will benefit from mommy looking and feeling good. As they say, “If Mama ain’t happy, nobody’s happy.” True dat.

So, I called a salon about one minute down the road and got an appointment. My sweet mother in-law came over and watched the babies and I spent one solid hour alone getting my hair did.

And…I love it.

Granted she could have given me a crew cut and I would’ve liked it better than the matted long mess of hair that I had.

Thankfully, she did exactly what I asked her to do and I’m in happy hair heaven.

I’ve even worn make-up for 2 days in a row!

Shut the front door, Molly is back!

Here are some pictures:

Front

Back

It’s slightly embarrassing how much better I feel. My step is lighter and slowly but surely I’m feeling like myself again. I’ve been pregnant/breastfeeding for nearly 3 years! Crazy.

Now that my hair is cute and my baby weight is almost gone I’ll probably get pregnant again any second…because that’s how I roll (relax Mama, I’m joking).

Today marks ten weeks that I’ve been back in the trenches of WW.

It seems like only yesterday that I was feasting on milk chocolate chips. Oh wait, it was yesterday. Although I will say that measuring said chocolate chips and eating a tiny portion doesn’t have the same effect as grabbing the bag and eating half of it in one sitting, however, it’s still oddly satisfying.

And now for the moment we’ve all been watiing for…

Drum roll please…..

In ten weeks I’ve lost 21.5 pounds.

(Don’t you dare take my .5 away from me. Ounces count too!)

So basically I’m losing 2 pounds per week, which I am thrilled with.

This go around I’m not attending the WW meetings and simply doing the program online. It’s fast and simple, which I really need in my happy baby filled life.

So there you have it. If I can lose weight, anyone can. And I do mean anyone.

Any updates on your weight loss/thinking about losing weight journey?

I have read 2 books since Bitzy was born. TWO. Actually that’s not true. I’ve read at least 2.5 billion kid books. Let me clarify: I’ve only read two books that don’t print the words on cardboard and smell like strawberries when you scratch them. Since you’re dying to know, they are “Heaven is For Real” (excellent) and “The Help” (stunning). Take in mind that pre-baby I could put 2 novels away per week. I devoured good books, a real sucker for a good memoir. After my sweetheart was born I would read a paragraph here and there of baby help books (useless), but the days of endlessly curling up with a book are way over. Happily over to be sure, but still O-V-E-R.

I’m disgusted with how much food we have in the freezer and pantry. There are starving babies for goodness sake. I think we can go for a week without fresh fruit. That said, I have declared that all meals will come from food that we already have this week (and maybe next). So far, so good. Granted, tonight I used my last fresh veggie (green pepper), so after the leftovers are gone from tonight’s dinner, we may be feasting on more creative foods. Perhaps tomorrow will be something totally new and unique! How about corn and peas casserole or peanut butter and cracker ragu. No? Too weird? I’ll figure something out. I’m excited to use our resources wisely and weirdly! Ha.

I am fairly certain that I successfully addicted baby #2 to my arms. My sweet baby boy is now 3 months old and loves to snuggle, and clearly I love to snuggle him right back. My Bitzy screamed bloody murder day in and day out for the first 5 months of her life unless I was holding her, so I’m pretty sure that my arms have magic dust on them. Slowly but surely my sweet boy is making it very clear that he wants a piece of the magic. I’m scared that we may end up with another round of sleep wars…oh well. I’m gonna enjoy the snuggles while they last.

Is it bad that I dreamt last night about coconut cream pie? I have a problem. Just for the record, a Coconut Cream Pie Milkshake from Sonic is 18 points. Ouch. Almost worth it. Almost, but not quite.

My hair is in a bad place. A really, really, really bad place. I don’t think it’s been this long since college. And trust me, long hair is not a good look for me. Must.Get.Haircut. I hit an all time low on Saturday when I took a “mommy time-out” during nap time and ventured to “The Wal-Mart.” I actually walked in the hair salon located inside “The Wal-Mart.” By some stroke of miracle they were busy and couldn’t cut my awful hair. This my friends is how you spell desperation.

Any confessions that you’d like to get off your chest?

Bitzy LOVES apples!

Well friends, it’s been a whole month since I got back together with my old beau, WW.

Our affairs have been intense in the past and the reunion tour I’m currently on is no exception.

You see, Weight Watchers is the perfect match for the likes of me.

What other diet program gives you the option of eating sugar all the live long day?  I love having that option, it keeps my sugar addiction intact.

Here’s the skinny.

In 4 weeks I’ve lost 11 pounds.

However, I feel like a cheater.

I get 20,490 points a day because I’m breastfeeding exclusively. I mean, that’s a lot of points. And since I value all things sugar over anything else, I’ve been eating a lot (like a lot, a lot) of sugar.

The secret to eating tons of junk food and still losing weight is simply staying within your points. It’s not brain surgery.

You see, WW tried to get all sneaky and change the points system so that you were forced to eat healthier.

Pu-lease WW. I ain’t no dummy.

Sugar always wins.

Always.

A life without Milky Way is no life at all.

So there you have it. WW is working yet again.

I am a life long believer in the powers of WW.

Today I tried on my “fat” jeans and they fit! Obviously, my goal is to fit into my “normal” size jeans and hopefully my “skinny” jeans (not to be confused with actual skinny jeans. Not my style folks, nope not at all) will eventually fit again soon enough.

So progress is certainly being made! More updates to come sooner than later.

Anyone else out there in cyberspace losing weight/wants to lose/loves sugar?

Anyone? Am I all alone in the world of WW?

Do tell!

My beautiful boy.

Well friends, tomorrow marks 6 beautiful weeks since I met my little boy. In some ways it feels as if I’ve known him forever, like we have always been a part of each other, and others it feels like just yesterday that I gazed into his eyes for the first time.

Time is funny like that I suppose.

That said, in the land of medicine six weeks is the magic number given for women who have pushed a tiny human (or in my case, not so tiny- 9lbs, 9 oz), to begin losing weight and begin exercising.

Not that I followed that advice with Bitzy. With her I totally ignored the whole six weeks thing and waited four solid months before lifting a finger. I’m going to blame that on winter. It was freaking freezing outside and I just couldn’t bear to begin until the spring. Well, and those chocolate chips were amazing.

This time around it’s just too hot outside to be fat. I’m totally grossing myself out with my thighs rubbing together in this dreadful heat. So, it’s time friends. It’s so time.

I’m a large lady. It’s so time for WW. However, my handsome Daddy and baby Bitzy are quite stunning, no?

No more Dairy Queen French Silk Pie Blizzards (totally amazing). No more Banana Pudding Milkshakes from Chick-Fila (although they discontinued them, apparently my efforts to keep them around forever weren’t enough). No more french fries, Dr. Pepper, pizza and chocolate. It’s all over.

This is, of course, for the best. One cannot live on junk food forever. It’s time that my body meet vegetables again. Molly meet squash, squash meet Molly.

WW are me are old pals so hopefully it won’t be too painful. Although now that they have a new points system I’m going to be a novice (which is scary). Not to worry, since I’m nursing my new handsome prince at least 59 times per day I get extra breastfeeding points which will help curb my candy addiction. Hooray!!!

I’ll keep you posted on my progress. Hopefully my thighs will thank me soon enough!

PS: If you have any WW or low-fat recipes you’d like to share I am all ears:).

I have a bit of a quandary. A dilemma if you will.

As you may know, I am a lifelong lover of candy.  I love everything about it.

The taste.

The texture.

The aftertaste.

In my day, I have consumed more candy than I care to admit. It’s true, I have a bit of an obsession.

I may go a whopping 2 days without a piece and then eat a whole bag.

I’m really healthy like that.

The whole “everything is moderation” is crazy talk.

Back to the dilemma.

A few years ago I was really into making lists. Don’t worry, not like “to-do” lists, please. Me? I’m not really a to-do list kinda gal. My lists were more like my top 10 favorite foods, candy, movies, songs…ya know, important stuff.

I encourage you to do this, it’s a fun exercise that will really make you dig deep for answers.

For example, my favorite candy.

Who am I kidding? Top 10? Try top 50, now that I could do.

And I didn’t even separate the lists. I really should have. But alas, I’m much wiser now than in the days of my youth. I thought I could simply lump them all together…but no so, my friends, not so.

So now, a few years later, the list still plagues me. I totally didn’t do it right.

Here was my list of Top Ten Favorite Candy (in no particular order):

1. Sour Gummy Worms (still true. I do love them. But top ten? I’m not sure. This is why it’s important to have separate lists).

2. Milky Way

3. Snickers

4. Candy Pumpkins

5. Coconut Cream Pie

6. Homemade Carmel Icing

7. Yellow Cake Mix Batter

8. York Peppermint Patties

9. Banana Pudding

10. Samoa and Spumoni Ice Cream (the love is separate, but equal).

As you can tell, this is a totally bogus list. How in the world can York Peppermint Patties be on the same list as Coconut Cream Pie? It’s like apples and oranges. Even as I type this little story I’m so annoyed with myself that I so haphazardly made these lists.

Perhaps back then I wasn’t as in touch with my total and complete love of candy.

Now that I am free to shout it from the rooftops and sing to the top of my lungs, “I love candy! We are best friends forever!” I feel more inclined to take things like this list seriously.

Let’s take Milky Way and Snickers.

My first instinct is to always go for the Snickers.  But then if I eat a Milky Way I am reminded of the vast goodness of the combo pack of chocolate, carmel and the yummy goodness of nougat.

The same goes for peach rings and sour gummy worms.  I think I want peach rings, but then I long for the sourness of the worms.

I cannot be satisfied.

All this to say, I am going to spend some time considering my new and improved lists. This time, I’m going to separate the lists into much more manageable categories. And I think you should too. This is an exercise for us all. It’s really important for us to get in touch with our sweet tooth.

List One: Top Ten Sugary Candy (example: Gummy Worms & Peach Rings).

List Two: Top Ten Chocolate Candy (example: Snickers & Milky Way).

List Three: Top Ten Desserts (example:Coconut Cream Pie & Banana Pudding).

List Four: Top Ten Ice Creams.

So there you go. Your assignment my darling friends is to also consider these lists and let me know your favorites too. Surely I’m not the only one that could live on straight up sugary goodness.

Can’t wait to hear your responses.

Ya know the terrible, awful, mean thoughts you have in your head but you never say them out loud because people will think you’re such a heartless meanie pants?

Well, for fear that I will have to wear a “World’s Biggest Meanie” badge, I’ve gotta get this out.

I have a love/hate relationship with the Biggest Loser.

There I said it.

I know that everyone in the whole wide loves the show, but friends, it’s a little dramatic for my taste.

I know what you’re thinking. How can I consider McDreamy and Meredith my personal friends but say that The Biggest Loser is too dramatic?

Well, that’s a good question.

The short answer? I’ve been with McDreamy and Meredith longer. Our relationship is more solid, so that’s that. Plus, I earned my medical degree from The Grey’s Anatomy School of Medicine. I can’t quit them now, or ever.

I think part of my issue with The Biggest Loser is that the show is too long. Two hours is a really long time for one show…unless, that show is One Tree Hill of course. I would be totally okay with every episode being two hours, (do you hear me CWTV. That’s a formal request).

Also, it’s like the show finds the most emotional people in the world. These poor people say their name and where they’re from and immediately burst into tears. Why, I ask?

Do they love their hometown? Do they hate their name? What is so emotional about stating your name and hometown? I just don’t get it.

The only thing I can figure is that they’re hungry.

Like, starving.

I mean if you go from eating a pizza every day to eating grilled chicken and yogurt, how does the body respond?

The Biggest Loser has taught us over the years that the response is always tears.

Always.

Then, add in 8 hours of grueling exercise and these people realize that the key to weight loss is crying. The more you cry the more you lose. So cry on people, cry on.

I just wish that I could send them a care package full of my favorite things when I’m crying. Do you think they’d appreciate a box full of candy pumpkins, mashed potatoes and chocolate milk?

Probably not.

And also, Alison Sweeny gets prettier every episode. Can I get a witness?

Ah yes, the long awaited Weight Watcher post about my “Baby Weight Be Gone Campaign.”

I’ve been putting this one off you see.

I’ve had a “WW Part 5″ post in draft mode for awhile now. The trouble is that every week I think “I’ll lose a whole bunch of weight this week and then I’ll finish the post.” The bad news is that my days losing “a whole bunch” of weight in a week are way over friends.

Like, way over.

The last time I spilled my guts to you over my WW adventures I had lost 36 pounds. That was 7 weeks ago.  As of Thursday, I have lost a total of…wait for it…wait for it….

43 pounds.

I realize that it’s great, blah, blah, blah, but that means that I’ve only lost 1 pound per week since then.

(What a whiny baby, right? I annoy myself).

I’m not a mathematician by any means, (although, let the record show that I can rock some addition and subtraction), but if I started on March 1st, that was nearly 6 months ago, right?. Right. There are 52 weeks in year, so half of that is 26 weeks, right?

So 26 divided by 43 pounds, comes out to 1.65 pounds per week. Right?

I’m not breaking any records by any means, but the weight is ssssssllllllloooooowwwwwwlllllllyyyyyyy coming off.

And, guess what?!

Being the huge girly girl that I am, I tried on my wedding dress last week and IT FITS!

Let’s take a walk down my wedding memory lane, shall we?

And lastly, my love waiting for me at the end of a very long, tear filled aisle. My Love, My Zach.

Whew. Memory lane is apparently filled with a few teardrops tonight. I sure did love, love, LOVE my wedding day.

OK, I’m wiping my tears away and focusing on my amazing wedding dress…back to business.

Not only does it fit, it looks great if I do say so myself.

When Zach and I got married I told him that I didn’t want to preserve my dress because I wanted to be able to wear it whenever I wanted.

Ya know, like walk around the house, eat a sandwich, run to the post office, pretend to be a runway model, prance around, go on play dates, make dinner, whatever was on my agenda for the day. I mean, it is my dress and technically I’m still a bride, so why the heck not?

Plus, since I refuse to actually weigh myself because I’m such a scaredy cat, the dress is just as good as a scale.

So basically my “dress scale” told me today that I’m at my wedding weight which was around 10ish pounds less than “normal” Molly weight.

I will tell ya though, with all this WW point counting, etc., I’ve been eating like a maniac lately.

For example, here was my menu today.

Breakfast: Egg McMuffin from my friend and yours, McDonald’s. I could seriously eat them 3 times a day, so freaking good.

Breakfast Take 2: Nonfat, no-whip Peppermint Mocha from Starbucks. Ditto to the above statement.

Lunch: Glazed Chicken Lean Cuisine. Total opposite of the above statement. If I never saw one again, it would be fine by me.

Lunch Take 2/Dinner/Dinner Take 2/Snack: Big, Beautiful, Best thing ever of all time: A Banana Spilt from Brusters. The heavens opened and there was a party in my mouth when I took a bite of this glorious creature. I ate this at 2:00pm and I knew full well that my eating was way over for the day. Do I regret this?  I think you know the answer to this. Never, ever, ever, never do I regret my sugar escapades. Never.

Dinner Take 3: Bag of grapes. (yup, the whole bag. Don’t judge me).

Basically I’m on an “eat as many preservatives as possible” diet, along with counting all my WW points. It’s a great marriage of a low calorie/preservative filled lifestyle plan.

Ugh. Again, I annoy myself.

And yes, before you ask, I am still breastfeeding.

Thanks for rubbing it in.

In my defense, the only foods that go into my Bitzy’s mouth are organic foods that I make her. No sugar, hormones, additives, none of the yucky stuff.

I figure that she gets enough preservatives in my breast milk, the food I feed her should be au natural.

Anyway, how did we get off this tangent?

Back to my frenemy Weight Watchers.

The bottom line? It’s working and my pre-preg jeans are baggy.

Isn’t that a fabulous bottom line?

Well, and that if I eat one more Lean Cuisine I may explode, but let’s focus on the positive.

So there you have it.

Maybe this week I’ll jinx myself and lose 5 pounds…but just in case, I’m not holding my breath.

Love to all,

PS: All photos were taken by Tyler Pelan at Lighting His World Photography.

Hold the phone: Sabrina the Teenage Witch and Joey from Blossom are teaming up for a little rememberthe90sTVitwassoawesome TV show! While I wasn’t a huge Sabrina fan, my friend Megan was/is a bit obsessed, so I am excited by association. But Joey, ah Joey. What with his leather jacket and manicured hairdo. He was and is dreamy. My only question is, does he have some kind of strong distaste for going by character names?  Does he always have to be called “Joey?” It’s getting kinda weird with all the Joey characters, right?

Somedays I am so busy that I feel like my brain is going to explode. I get so overwhelmed that I doubt everything that I do, feeling as it I’m never going to complete all of my tasks. But then, I pick up my sweet Bitzy Boo and all the troubles of the world fade away. There is no task, none at all, that are more important than soaking in every single second of my baby’s life. No emails, phone calls, news, nothing. They all can wait.

I’m addicted to Weight Watchers Cookie Dough desserts. They are only 3 points apiece and I could eat 20 of them. Please don’t challenge me to an eating contest, I will win. But wouldn’t that be sweet irony to have an eating contest with WW products? Who’s with me?

The news stresses me out. It makes me sad and annoyed at our world today. So, I choose to not listen and focus on the real news: People.com.

Speaking of, Sandy and little Louis are doing great (Read about our friendship here and here). Thank goodness that grody ole Jesse is out of the picture. I do confess that he makes me wanna vomit.

The other day I had a frozen bag of breast milk from the deep freezer in my hands and I dropped it on our glass top coffee table. Accidentally of course, I am a true klutz. The poor table top shattered all over the carpet, but more annoyingly the breast milk bag got a hole in it. That’s right all 11 ounces of my precious liquid gold was pouring all over the glass ridden carpet. Believe it or not, I was much more upset about the wasted milk than the glass. As you know, I take my milk very seriously, it is Natures Nectar after all.

By the way, after I told you all about my idea for curing all the aliments of the world with Natures Necture, no lie I heard on the radio the next day that researchers are now conducting studies that isolate the proteins in breast milk to cure cancer. Seriously? Are they that in tune with this blog that they read about my life changing ideas and immediately begin research?  People, we are curing cancer up in here.

Zach and I got new cell phones and I hate them. They are supposedly “smart” but I think they’re dumb. I want a Jitterbug and pronto.

The crawdad count is up to 32.  Don’t they hear the cries of their little brothers and sisters on the Duct tape? Duh, you stupid crawdads, don’t step on the tape. Their stupidity is just another reason that they must die.

Lastly, I want you all to know how much I enjoy writing these little stories and the community that we’re forming here.  Thank you putting up with my whining about the Sleep Wars and my crazy escapades.  I cherish every single visitor and comment…keep ‘em coming.

Notice the tummy area. Gross, eh? Do you think that's just extra Diet Coke swimming around? Surely it's not just a big ole flat tire belly. Right?

As we have determined by the literal pounds of candy I have consumed over the course of my life, I’m a sugar addict.

There is really nothing more to say at this point, I’m addicted and I don’t see that changing- ever.

However, sugar has a nemesis that puts on the cloak of sugary goodness but can’t compete with the real thing.

A fake.

A poser.

A sham.

An imitation.

A completely and utterly addictive substance that in turn has made me: Completely addicted.

Now, as if being a sugar addict isn’t enough, I’m also seemingly addicted to aspartame, the fake impostor of my boyfriend sugar.

As if you didn’t already know, I’m talking specifically about diet soda.

Diet Coke, Diet Dr. Pepper, Diet Lemonade, Diet this and Diet that: I love it all.

I’ve read article upon article about the negative effects of aspartame. The infamous “they” make it seem like it’s cancer in a plastic bottle, so I get all freaked out and then I stop drinking it. I shout it from the rooftops and tell everyone I meet that they’re gonna DIE if they drink the heart attack in a cup.

Then, I fall off the wagon and become addicted yet again.

Inevitably, the guilt comes and I stop.

And so we go around and round.

I’m not arrogant enough to say that I’m done for good, but I will tell you that starting today, I’m going cold turkey. It will be a modern miracle if I make it, but it’s worth a shot right?

If I stay clean for a month can I have a big party to celebrate? Can we have be vats of icing and sing show tunes? It’s my perfect party.

Think anyone would come?

Probably not.

Nobody gets me.

In other news, many moons ago I gave up Diet Crack Coke and dropped 10 pounds in 3 weeks. I mean, what’s in the stuff???  That’s my question. You’d think about that miraculous weight loss I never woulda gone back, but alas, I did.

Maybe I’ll lose more weight with this little trick. Goodness knows that my WW adventures are getting tougher and tougher (not to worry, I’m writing a Weight Watcher little story that will be published later this week, thankyouverymuch).

So who’s with me? I know we can do it friends…Come on….Show me some love!

PS: For your viewing pleasure below is a picture of me wanting to “Make The Grade” with Diet Dr. Pepper. Is that great or what?

PPS: I love the World Wide Web.

I had 9 Weight Watcher points for lunch.  9 beautiful sugary points of dessert.  No real food.  No fruit, veggies, bread or meat.  Just sugar. And it was glorious. Who needs real food?  I could totally live on desserts and ice cream forever. Couldn’t you?

Is it just me, or is 98% of this blog about food?

I confess, I love food.

For the first time ever today I became very annoyed with Target. But don’t worry, I’m over it now.  Target said it was sorry and I forgave him.  (Why is Target a boy?)

Every other person I know in the world is pregnant or just had a yummy bit of goodness baby.  What does this mean? Recession?  Peer Pressure? Jobless? Boredom?  Why in the world does it make me want to be pregnant?  Peer pressure for sure. That answers that question.  Well, and that babies are the number one most awesome thing in the whole.wide.world (other than Jesus and husbands of course).

Bitzy seriously gets cuter from one moment to the next.  Is this possible you ask?  Yes. A resounding yes. I’ve experienced this.  She’ll kiss me with a big wet slobbery kiss, crawl away like she’s in a mad rush to get somewhere extremely important, spin around on her tush, then flash me the cutest little toothy smile and confirm, yet again, that she gets cuter by the millisecond.  Seriously.

All I can think about are cucumbers (lie).

All I can think about are Milk Duds (truth).

I confess that I not only write about food constantly, but I think about it constantly. Is that healthy?  Probably not.  But neither is eating 78 boxes of Milk Duds per year and Lord knows that I could care less about how healthy that is.  So, whatever.

I wish that I had super kinky curly hair that looked amazing without me ever touching it.

This morning in a meeting for work I burst out laughing thinking about something hilarious that Zach said this weekend.  It was completely and totally off the topic of discussion and it just popped in my head like lightening.  Being married to him is like going to the Carnival everyday…always funny, never boring and full of rat tails and airbrushed t-shirts.

Actually Zach doesn’t have a rat tail or an airbrushed t-shirt.  Oh well, you get my point. Or do you? What is my point?

I’m feeling particular random today, can’t you tell?

Anyway, happy Monday!

After 3 long days of  letting my girly cry it out and even longer nights of putting a pillow over my head while my precious child screamed her ever loving brains out, I am tired.

No, exhausted.

No, drained.

No, depressed.

No…THIRSTY.

All I want is a big huge mega size 44 ounce iced cold glass of chocolate milk.

Not the homemade stuff either.

I want Nesquik Chocolate Milk.

Ya know, the one with the little bunny.

When I was a kid I had a Nestle Quick bunny cup.  I’m assuming I had this rare treasure because my mama saved UPC codes or something…she’s that kind of mama.

In fact, I’m sorry that she’s not your mama.

Too bad, she’s mine all mine (well, and my brother and sisters too, but we all know that I’m her favorite).

Anyway, I digress, back to chocolate milk.

I just did a quick search to find out how many Weight Watcher points a 44 oz. glass of Nesquik Chocolate Milk would be, just for fun.

Holy freaking cow.

NOTE: The above nutrition facts are for one 8 ounce cup.  I want 5.5 cups to equal my 44 ouncer. That means that I would consume 1,100 calories, 27.5 grams of fat,  and only 5 grams of fiber.  In Nesquik’s defense, after drinking 44 ounces of milk I would be totally cool on my calcium consumption for the day.

That means that in the land of WW, I would drink 23 points in chocolate milk.

Ahem.  That’s more points than I would normally get in a day (except now that I’m breastfeeding I get 10 more than usual. Breastfeeding is da bomb).

Has anyone said “da bomb” since 1997?

Clearly I’m not going to drink 44 ounces of Nesquik. Let’s face it, I’m not going to drink 3 ounces of Nesquik.

Why?

1. Way, way, way too many points for a beverage.  I want my points to be actual food.

2. We don’t have any and it’s too late to go anywhere.  Nothing good happens after midnight after all….especially at the affectionately named “Ghetto Kroger” down the street from our house.  It’s not exactly fancy. It frequents a weird mix of hippies, rappers and rich women who may have killed their husbands for the money.  Needless to say, I’d rather not make an appearance after midnight.

3. I would rather drink my chocolate milk in my Nesquik bunny cup and it’s not here, it’s at my mama’s house…so I’ll wait and simply obsess about how much I want Nesquik ’til I can drink it ice cold from my bunny cup.

Yes, I just said, “My bunny cup.”

Yes, I’m 30 years old.

And yes, in case you’re wondering, I will probably sleep with my girl tonight when she wakes up hollering because I cannot take one more night of letting her cry, and I’m fine with that. My heart needs a break from the endless screaming like she is being flogged publicly.

To be honest, I wouldn’t mind cuddling up with my mama after the trauma of the past few days.

Some things never change.

Here’s to sweet Mama’s and bunny cups!!!

I love to walk.

Always have.

I am a mix between the crazy fast mall walkers and a simple stroller.

Let’s say that I’m a moderately fast walker.  I’m definitely not breaking any records, but I can do a 15-17 minute mile while pushing a stroller fairly easily.

All that to say, in my day I’ve done a lot of walking.

I love being outside and enjoying God’s glorious creation and exercising my (perhaps) overactive imagination.

So, last week I was truckin’ it down one of Louisville’s most historic and beautiful streets, Frankfort Avenue, sweating up a storm wondering why it was so freaking hot at 8:00am, I noticed one of the most magnificent magnolia trees that I’ve ever seen.

Actually, I smelled it first.  You just can’t ignore the scent of a fresh magnolia blossom. I looked all around me and I still didn’t see it…then, I looked up.  There it was, right over my head.

I paused from our walk and just breathed it in.

I was overwhelmed by the beauty that had almost gone unnoticed.

Then, I began praying and begging God to forgive me when I miss the most beautifully obvious things in my path.  To please help me to recognize His presence constantly, so never let me miss His awesomeness.

As I walked I continued to look around me and try to grasp the unnoticeable beauties that surrounded me.

After a few minutes I began feeling ultra-spiritual and totally in touch with the Holy Spirit.

It was about that time when I noticed a middle aged man coming toward us on the sidewalk. He was a good 100 yards away, but my newfound alertness signalled that he was coming.

Remember a few months ago when I declared that “Strangers are just friends that we haven’t met yet,” (if not, read about it here)?  Well in this poor dude’s case, I threw that theory out the window. Rather than capitalizing on my ultra spiritual quest for appreciating all of God’s creations I declared that it would be better to imagine all the ways that I would destroy this man if he tried to hurt my precious baby Bitzy.

Where in the holy heck did that come from? How can I go from singing Mary Poppin’s songs in my head to try to decide whether to hurl the jogging stroller at the poor guy or to just drop kick him?

No clue.

Here’s the rundown of how my insane brain works:

I imagine him coming towards us and trying to take my girly. I make a quick move to punch him the gut and then a round off kick in the cheek.

Never mind that if I did punch someone my hand would immediately break, and let’s face it, the possibility of me “kicking” is more like “throwing” my leg up in the air and missing his cheek and hitting his knee cap. Me hitting a grown man’s cheeks is not only far fetched, but would be more effective in a comedy sketch than in a real life fight for my life. In fact, if I did try to “kick” him he would just burst into peels of laughter and leave us alone.

Now he’s 50 yards away and I’m starting to feel my adrenaline pumping.

After I kick and punch, I will begin screaming and yelling and jumping up and down (which inevitably means peeing on myself), grab my girl and we run as fast as we can away from the evil man.

Out of the blue a police appears and arrests the man and puts him in jail forever and ever.

Ah, the end. Don’t ya just love happy endings?

A far cry from my magnolia blossom spiritual “Moments with Molly” don’t ya think?

Oh well, I’m crazy and I’m willing to admit it!

Anyone else a nut job like me?  Come on! Or at least anyone with an over active imagination who also goes from gooey “I love Jesus” moments to imagining mauling some unsuspecting stranger?

Probably not.

Oh well, here’s to a God that loves me and my craziness.  Have a happy Monday!!!

Day at the Zoo! All sweaty and stuff.

Well friends, my love/hate relationship with Weight Watchers continues.

Missed it? Read about it here, here, and here.

As you know, I’ve been trudging myself to WW since March 1st in honor of my ” Baby Weight Be Gone Campaign.”  Since then we’ve taken a vacation to Colorado and one to the Beach (note my “Fry” escapades). That said, I haven’t exactly followed the program perfectly (shocker), but I’ve done fairly well considering my sugar addiction.

Luckily, I’ve basically kicked my candy habit and I focus solely on Weight Watcher desserts to curb my need for sweets.  They are actually quite excellent…I mean, they aren’t exactly Milk Duds, but they’ll do in a pinch.

So, are you ready for the big beautiful news of how much I’ve lost?????  Am I keeping you in suspense????  I hate when people keep me in suspense!!!!

36 pounds.

Sure, it’s not like I’m wearing a size 2, but let’s face it, if I’m ever a size 2 I’ll be in the hospital on a feeding tube.  My bones wouldn’t even fit into a size 2 and I’m OK with that.

I’m currently wearing my pre-pregnancy jeans and I feel really great.  I’m proud that I’ve lost the weight and I feel like myself again.

But, here’s the thing, as you probably know, losing weight is 98% mental. I’ve only been in “weight loss” mode twice in my life.  It takes a lot to get in the zone, so I figure, while I’m here I’m gonna stay.

It wouldn’t kill me to lose another 20 or 30 pounds before I get knocked up again anyway:).

The bad news is that now the weight is hanging on tight.  Technically I’ve lost an average for 2 lbs. per week, but the weight has definitely slowed down as I’ve got less and less to lose.

But honestly, I’ll take what I can get.

Unfortunately, riding the wave of WW momentum isn’t going to last forever, I fear that I am actually going to have to consistently work out in order to lose more weight.

So, I’m hoping to either walk or Shred at least 5 days a week.  Doable?  We’ll see.

Anyone have any awesome low-fat recipes that you’d like to share?  Any great weight loss stories to keep everyone motivated???  Do tell!  I need all the help that I can get!

Love to all,

M

Have you ever been to a fish fry?

If not, please go.  Get off the computer and google “Fish Fry” and find one in your area.

If you don’t have one, that’s OK, just get in the car and go to Calabash, NC. Drive directly to “The Seafood Hut” and order anything you’d like. Everything is fried, and I do mean everything. As in, they don’t even have baked potatoes, in fact, they don’t even have an oven.  Only fryers.  My kinda place.

If you still refuse me, go to Wal-Mart and buy a Fry Daddy, which is basically a big pot of hot oil (awesome), bread some fish, fry it, and finally enjoy every single glorious bite.

After you have completed the above tasks then you’re cleared to continue reading.

As you can see, if it’s fried then I like it (except for fried pickles. Makes.Me.Wanna.Vomit).

So on vacation with my big beautiful family, I made it my personal mission to eat as much fried food as humanly possible.  And as much sugar as I could find, soft drinks, doughnuts, and hush puppies and anything else that I could get my grubby little fingers on.

By the way, I have a confession: Hush puppies and I have a long standing love affair.

While my heart belongs to sugar, I do occasionally cheat on my one true love with hush puppies.

Please don’t tell my beloved sugar.  It will only hurt it’s feelings.

Anyway, back to my week of gluttony.

In my defense, I have been on hard core Weight Watchers for nearly 4 months (which equals a lifetime in MollyWorld), I was due for a breakedy break.

And a break I did have.

After months of a diet of watermelon, Lean Cuisines, veggies and grilled meat, I turned to a life of a carnival worker.  While I didn’t have any fried Twinkies (not that I was above it- I just didn’t have the opportunity), I capitalized on my break and ate, and ate and ate some more.

Yes, I am reluctantly back on WW and will hang my head in shame when I walk in next week, but when they inevitably tell me that I’ve gained at least 23 pounds in a week, I will just close my eyes and taste the luxurious fried flounder with a side of hush puppies, and go to my happy place in fry heaven.

I’ll keep you posted on the damage that was done…stay tuned in my adventures in my ‘Baby Weight Be Gone Campaign,’ and join in me in hoping that I’ve only gained 21 pounds, rather than 23.

(Totally, totally, totally worth it).

As you know, I have been shredding my little heart out.

I’m tired, sore and annoyed that I’m not naturally skinny and muscular.

Why can’t I be one of those girls that say, “I know that I have a 6 pack, I guess I was just born that way.”  But then again, she’s probably puking her guts out in the bathroom and doing sit-ups in between heaving…so alas, I will Shred since puking is reserved for pregnancy and doing sit-ups on the bathroom floor is gross.  I’ll try to like it and not whine too much.

After my first pitiful attempt at Shredding, this is my round 2.

Here’s the play by play:

Day One- Hard.  Really hard.  Lots-o-sweat and heavy breathing. I made it through every exercise and I didn’t cry.  However, I found Jillian extremely annoying. Her, “I’m hoping you know me” line at the beginning is a bit obnoxious if I do say myself.  Overall, I felt pretty OK and encouraged that maybe I’m not as out of shape as I think I am.

Day Two- I woke up semi sore. Not “can’t move my legs and stairs are scary” sore, but sore nonetheless.  When Jillian had our shredding date I was tired. It’s funny how I wasn’t all that sore until I began doing the exercises…it was then that my muscles began screaming for me to stop.  But I pressed onward and finished again, never skipping a beat…but again, there was lots of panting and sweat.

Day Three- I already flaked out. I’m a loser.  I’m sorry.

Day Four- Flaked again.  There is no excuse for me.  Although I did walk 3 miles in 90 degree heat while pushing a stroller and then my sweet Bitzy had a melt down and I carried her up a huge hill while pushing the stroller…does that help my case?

Day Five- Felt great. I even felt kind of strong…weird.

Day Six- Exhausted.Tired.Sore.Do.Not.Like.Jillian.

Day Seven- Walked 2 miles. Didn’t Shred. I’m sorry.

Day Eight- Felt really good.  This gig is definitely getting easier. The push-ups are killer, but my arms are looking a little less pudgy.  Hooray!

Day Nine- Flaked.Tired.Flaked.Exhaustion.Need.More.Sleep.com

Day Ten- Felt energized.  Lost 3.4 pounds this week (maybe this Shred stuff is working?) and it makes me wanna Shred harder…although, Jillian is driving me bananas.

After 1-10 days you’re supposed to move to Level 2, but I’m just not ready.  I’m sorry. I’m not a Shred role model, however, I need one. And while we’re at it, I need a personal trainer to come to my house (not one on TV, a real life one), and if it could be for free that would be great.  Let me know what you find out…in the meantime, I’m going to try to flake less on Level One and keep working on my sorta pudgy arms.

Are you Shredding too?  Please, pretty please with sugar on top Shred with me….anyone? Anyone? Bueller? Bueller?

As you may know, I love candy.

Actually, just like Nine Inch Nails would say, “Love’s Not Enough.” Watch it here.  It’s true, Loving candy simply isn’t enough. It has taken years of practice, commitment and dedication to be the candyaholic that I am today.  (Need some history on the subject: Read more on this blog and this one).

I have been in the candy training business since I was a young lass. You see, my family owes a wholesale candy warehouse.  Which ironically enough, I barely got to eat any of it, it was (apparently) there to to sell to customers rather than to satisfy my cravings. However, while I didn’t get to ravage the aisles daily, a fascination of all the different kinds of candy  of the world was born in me.

I wanted to try them them all.  I had no preconceived notions about what was good or bad and for goodness sake I didn’t care about calories (as no child should). So, after walking the aisles of the warehouse and staking out all the options, I was ready to begin my life long candy adventure.

It all started with Tootsie Rolls.

Or possibly Tootsie Pops.  I loved that commercial with the turtle and the owl.  Classics I tell ya.  Whatever the case may be, Tootsie Rolls and me declared  that we would be friends for life.

The warehouse had all different varieties of these tasty little rolls of delight. The tiny little midgees up to the king size bar. It’s like the good ole Tootsie Company knew that the way to my heart.  Start small with the midgee- no pressure. We were simply on our first date, just having some fun and with each new bite came a greater sense of desire for the next one. It’s like we were dating and now we’re in a serious, committed relationship.

They are my fall back in the grocery store line if I have succumbed to the fact that I really want something sweet and would rather eat a bar of Tootsie Rolls rather than a tub of icing or half a bowl of brownie batter.

But let’s face it, normally I will eat the Tootsie Rolls and then go eat the brownie batter.  It’s just how I roll.

Pie.

Ah, pie. My Granny just so happens to be the greatest pie maker in the history of the world. So, I get this addiction honestly.

She comes from the old school where you make pies in a cast iron frying pan and stir it endlessly until it thickens. Back in her day life was slower and was perfectly normal to spend an hour a day making homemade pie crust and stirring in the butter, butter and more butter to make the pie splendidly thick and delicious.

I couldn’t possibly name a favorite pie.  It would be like declaring which of my siblings are my favorite.  There is just no way to choose. Although I can tell you which “category” is my favorite.

Cream Pies.

Chocolate cream, coconut cream, banana cream, you get the idea.  I like ‘em thick and fattening.

The great thing about pie is that they are a real pain to make.  They take forever.  So when I delve into the tasty goodness of a piece of cream pie heaven, I know that i must enjoy every last morsel since I have no clue when the next bite will come from.

White Chocolate.

White Chocolate is a funny thing. Some of even the most dedicated sugar addicts are not fans.  They say, “it’s too sweet.” I honestly have no idea how to respond to that. There is nothing in the whole wide world that is too sweet.  Nada.

As a kid my step-mom worked a place where she somehow acquired boxes of Nestle’s White Chocolate bar (I didn’t ask questions, I was just thrilled they were there).

I was obsessed with these bars. We rarely had sugar in the house, and finally, finally, finally, I had something to feast on. However, unfortunately she began hiding them so that I wouldn’t gorge myself nightly.  Clearly she didn’t know who she was dealing with.  I searched the house high and low for those tasty treats.  I was on a mission.

Finally one night as I lay in bed obsessing about where they could be and recounting all the places that they were not, I thought about all the places that I hadn’t looked.

The top back shelf of the kitchen cabinet to the left of the sink.

Of course. It was the cabinet that was hardest to get to and it was up so high I would have to do some serious climbing.

So, I went for a little hike in the kitchen, because my true love awaited me.

And find them I did. I’m not sure how many bars I ate that night, but it was enough that my little tummy was feeling it the next day.  Do I regret it?  I think you know the answer to that.

Taffy.

Salt Water, Laffy Taffy, Now or Laters.  I’ll take it all.  Every bit of it.  I am 100% convinced that of all the foods in the whole wide world that I could win in an eating contest, this would be the one. I would dominate, especially if someone unwrapped it all for me.

I would sit on my Taffy throne as the #1 Taffy eater of all time.  I would proudly smile and feel sorry for everyone else who only appeared to be candy lovers.  Then, I would turn my head and give one last grin before I turned purple and vomited up all of my taffy goodness….and you guessed it, I wouldn’t regret one.single.bite.

At summer camp we had Canteen every afternoon. I would get a can of Dr. Pepper, one bar of Strawberry Laffy Taffy and one Superman popsicle. It was heavenly.

One time I was last in line to get my treats and when I finally got them it was time for an activity, so I had to chug my Dr. Pepper and popsicle and just put the taffy in my back pocket.

This is one of the only times in my life that I had candy in my possession and didn’t finish it immediately.

By the time I ate it, it had totally melted into a big pink glob.  I licked up every morsel of that thick and yummy goodness, it was amazing.  In fact, I almost like it better melted than when it’s firm.  Go figure.

Sour Worms.

Many many moons ago when I was much younger and my hips were much narrower I had a tradition of taking leisurely visits to a local restaurant (I use restaurant loosely, it’s more like a shack with an oven and a port of potty), and ordering Chicken Fingers and 1 pound of sour worms.  We did this nearly every Saturday.

It was heavenly.  These particular sour worms were moderately sour, not too much, but still with some zing.  They were big and fat and long.  The convenience store kind are just the little guys, they don’t do the trick for me.  I like the ones that are in the big plastic vat thingies so they at least had the appearance of freshness.

But, let’s face it. I still would love ‘em if they had been sitting there when Nixon was president.

I would eat my worms first. Clearly.  Did I eat them one at a time, enjoying every bite you ask? No way!  I stuffed those suckers in my mouth as fast as I could.  Apparently when candy is involved I’m in a race to the finish, never mind enjoying anything.

Sometimes I wonder if my candy addition is just the thrill of the chase.  I’m a scavenger looking for my next fix, like a true addict.  I don’t mind though, it’s a fun game and truly satisfying.

Ah, now all I can think about are sour worms…thanks a lot.

Any candy that you’re obsessing about today dear readers? Do tell!

As you know, my old pal Weight Watchers and me are on an adventure.  We’ve been hanging out on and off for awhile now, but recently we’ve gotten really close.

You see, with WW I know what to expect.  I know how the beginning is hard and then it gets easier.

I know how much I can cheat and get away with it and when enough really is enough.

I’ve been with WW long enough to not dread it and look forward to my progress.

“They” say that eating is the key to weight loss and that exercise is just the icing on the fat free cake. So on this WW adventure, I’ve walked a few times a week, but nothing too strenuous.

I wouldn’t want to overexert myself or anything.

Clearly.

But, “they” also say that all good things must come to an end.  So my dear readers, my “who needs exercise when I sort of stayed within my points today?” days are over.

I have begun to Shred.

Can I have abs like her please?

What is the Shred you ask?

Well, my friends, the Shred is a little workout video hosted by none other than Jillian Michaels from The Biggest Loser.

If you’re a viewer of The Biggest Loser then you know how scary it is to begin this journey.  If not, think Jane Fonda meets Mr. T meets Dr. Phil and then you have Jillian Michaels.

She’s a great trainer and gets great results from the contestants on the show.  I must admit that I find her mildly annoying.  Especially on the Shred video.

But, let’s focus on the positive.

I want my arms to look skinny and muscular and if it takes hanging out with Jillian for 20 minutes a day for 30 days straight, then so be it.

I say that on day #2, on day #20 I may be saying that chubby arms aren’t all that bad.

So who’s with me?  Let’s fight the flub together and make fun of Jillian all at the same time!

Sounds like great fun to me.

The WW saga continues.

I wish I could tell you how gloriously beautiful my “Baby Weight Be Gone Campaign” has been. How I grow my own food and only eat organically. How I have given up sugar all together. How I always eat within my points every day and how I think WW is extremely easy and makes me glowingly happy with each passing moment.

But that would be a BFL (big fat lie).

Ironically, I am generally happy everyday, but it has absolutely nothing to do with WW.

You see, I just so happen to be married to the love of my life and have the worlds cutest baby in my arms…that’s why I’m so darn blissful.

Told Ya She's The Cutest Baby Ever.

But that’s a whole other Oprah.

Back to WW.

If you’re new here, you can read Part One and Two of my WW adventures in order to catch up.

Thing is, eating well is tough. Really tough.  There are just too many amazing things to eat these days.  If you ever think that eating healthy is easy, please do not pass go and walk into a Cracker Barrel.

Ah the smells of chicken fried chicken, mashed potatoes, soup, pancakes, butter, butter and more butter.

Yummy, yummy, yummy. You're Very Own Heart Attack on a Plate.

I totally just gained a pound thinking about the glory of Cracker Barrel.

Eating well is certainly not easy and eating within your WW points is pretty hard too.  You have to be choosy about how you spend your precious points every day.

One of the things I love about WW is that you have to be very intentional about every bite that goes into your mouth.

There is none of this, I’ll have a bite of this here and a bite of that there. Every single solitary taste must be counted…which can be super annoying to be sure.

Sometimes I wish I were on the Atkins diet where you eat Bacon for breakfast, Cheeseburgers for lunch and Steak for dinner.  Ummm…I love meat.  I could totally do that diet for about 3 days…then I would find the nearest cupcake shop and stick my head into a vat of icing and finish off every last bite.

A “no-sugar diet” just doesn’t work for the likes of me.

That’s one reason that WW and me jive so well. It puts up with my sugar binges and forgives me time after time and promises that tomorrow will be better. WW is incredibly forgiving for a tried and true sugar addict in case you were wondering.

So, the latest stat is that I’ve lost 27 pounds in 10 weeks.

Not bad for a mountain girl who can smell the fudge that is being stirred by an old lady 89 miles from here…ummm sugar and me are brothers from another mother.

Wait, not brothers…I mean sisters.  Ah, you get the idea.  I love sugar and sugar loves me.

So, that’s the scoop so far.

My pre-pregnancy jeans do “fit” (as in I can button and zip them), however they aren’t quite as loose as they once were, so I’m guessing I have another 5-15 pounds to lose before I’m at my pre-Bitzy weight. (Remember that I have no idea how much I weigh, how much I gained during pregnancy or how much more I have to lose.  My jeans are my only scale…I close my eyes at WW.  I just can’t bear to know the forbidden numbers).

But I figure, what the heck?  I’m in the WW zone, I may as well lose more.  So, I’m gonna try and keep losing…we’ll see how it goes.  Maybe I’ll lose more weight and Jennifer Hudson and I can go on tour together.  We could do our WW photo shoots and then I could sing back up in her band.

Oh what fun we’ll have.

I will require big hair though.  Really, really, really big hair.

Like Dolly Parton.

I love this.

Those are my requirements, go ahead and draw it up in my contract.

Anyway, I’ll keep you posted on our tour dates and on my love affair with WW.

(I know you’ll be waiting with baited breath).

Love to all…

My number one pet peeve of all time is WHEN PEOPLE TYPE IN ALL CAPS.  I DON’T KNOW WHY IT DRIVES ME SO CRAZY, IT JUST DOES. Is it so hard to use the shift key people?

I am proud of my husband for all of the little awards he gets while playing Call of Duty.  He’s fighting the terrorists after all (or some 7 year old in Wisconsin- but whatever).

Pitiful.

Yesterday my Weight Watcher points consisted of eating Weight Watchers Carmel’s, Weight Watchers ice cream, and Weight Watchers muffins.  Who needs meat or veggies when you can have sugary diet food?  I should be the poster child on how you can still eat an all sugar diet and lose weight.  It’s remarkable really.

In all of my bad dreams I can’t scream when the bad people are chasing me.  Any dream interpreters out there? Am I nuts or what?

My nighttime routine of face washing has gone from a 4 step program (before Bitzy) of cleanser, toner, eye cream and moisturizer to me using a baby wipe (if I’m lucky) as I fall into bed.   This my friends sums up what motherhood is like.  My question is, since my routine has so drastically changed, what happens when I have 2, 3, or 4 kids?  Will I cease to wash my face, will I just rub my cheeks against the sheets at night hoping to get the grime off, or will I just rub in all the slobber that  builds up from sweet baby kisses and hope for the best?  Dire straits people, dire straits.

I want to kick Jesse James in the head.  Is that wrong?

My Bitzy will begin eating “real”solid foods in the next few weeks and I’m a wreck (like squash, apples, etc). Here’s why:

1.) I’m making all of her baby food and it makes me nervous.

2.) This means that she’s not a tiny baby anymore.  First solids and then she’s driving.  It’s a slippery slope.

3.) Now it’s super easy to feed her on the go (seeing as how I just attach her to me).  Solids seem like a lot of work.  So much packing and whatnot.  Would it be weird if I just nursed her forever?

Speaking of, tonight during our bedtime feeding, I imagined not nursing her and I began to cry.  I honestly cannot imagine stopping. Call me nuts, but it’s going to be extremely difficult for me to ween myself from her. Is 7 really too old?  Really?

I actually like doing laundry.

I love hairspray. In fact, I don’t want to live in a world without it.  My hairspray of choice is Aussie.  That’s right, $3.99 and I’m good to go for weeks. For those of you who don’t use it, you should. It will make your world a happier place and your hair will thank you.

I have a favorite pair of flip flops that are totally falling apart and look ratty, but yet I still save them and wear them for “special occasions.”  While it may look like I’m wearing my ghetto shoes to dinner, it’s really a glorious occasion for them to be allowed out of the closet.  They are on death row and anytime they are released from their cell could be their “last supper.”

I am sorta scared of the dark.  I attribute this entirely to the movie, “The Ring.”  That movie creeped me out in a way that is completely uncalled for in a grown woman.  To this day, if I turn out the lights and leave the room and it’s pitch black I think about that little girl in the chair.  Ah, it sends shivers up my spine.  Creepiest movie ever.

Now I’m going to have nightmares.

Thanks a lot.

Finally, Daisy and Lily are back from a sabbatical at their Lolly & Pops.  They’ve been home for 24 hours and I don’t hate them yet.  Maybe it has something to do with this development…

If she loves 'em, so do I.

Any confessions that you’d like to share with me, dear readers?  Do you secretly hate your dogs but can’t break it to your husband?  Are there some days that all you eat is sugar (please say yes), Confess away my friends…

As I looked at the news today I was reminded of who my “celebrity” friends and “celebrity no-so-much” friends are.

Yikes.

For example, I have a complicated relationship with Kate Gosselin.

We were acquaintances, then frienemies and now we don’t even speak when spoken to.

To be completely honest, I have a hard time not judging her. While I banned her show, Jon and Kate Plus 8, years ago, now that she’s on every cover of every magazine and on that horrible dancing show, I just can’t stand it.  Where are your kids lady?  I know that you say that you’re providing for them, but where is the money that you earned while filming the show?  Last time I checked it doesn’t take $75,000 per episode to raise 8 kids.

Also, apparently Jon is paying her $22,000 a month in child support (Don’t even get me started on Jon.  He’s a whole other Oprah).  Granted, I’ve never had 8 kids, but does it really take  $44,000 a month to raise them in addition to Kate’s escapades?  Are they eating gold and playing with platinum?  Come on Kate.

There I go again, being judgmental.  I’m sorry.  Forgive me.

Sandy, in happier times.

In other news, Sandy is still in hiding.  Of course she is!  She’s humiliated.  I want to punch Jesse James in the face. He hurt my BFF Sandy and I will stand by her side forever.   I’m off Oreos now (stupid Weight Watchers), so we’re eating celery sticks instead.  I’ll keep you updated on how she’s doing.

Ugh.

And then there’s Angelia.  Ugh..  She’s been banned since “the incident” with my girl Jenn.  I can’t even watch any of her movies.  Nope, not even one.  All I think about when I see her is that he broke my girls heart.  Once a girls girl, always one.  Kinda like once a cheater always a cheater…just sayin’.

In other news, this Kendra character is everywhere.  Who is she?  Where did she come from?

Jenn and I Friends Forever.

I have much more important news to learn like how my girl Jennifer Garner celebrated her birthday and who attended her party.  I got an invite, but I was much too busy blowing raspberries on my Bitzy’s tummy and changing diapers (and there’s no place that I’d rather be).

So that’s the scoop on my love/hate relationship with the news.  More to come to be sure.

PS:  Yes, I called looking at People.com the “news.”  Don’t judge me.

Remember the old meanie that so rudely laid his airplane chair back on Bitzy and my lap on our way to the wedding? As I was trying to get my wonderful husband to stop poking the seat of the old geezer in order to punish him, I noticed that beside me sat an even older man.

When I say old, I mean old. As in fought in the Civil War old. Or maybe drove a buggy on the Oregon Trail old.

I’m thinking around 100ish.

No joke.

Don’t get me wrong, I love old people just as much as the next gal, but I did find it odd that he was flying.

Where did he have to go anyway?

So, I asked him.  ”Where ya goin’?” in my annoyingly nosey way.

He just stared at me and grinned.

Oh dear.

It was then that the flight attendant saved me by informing me that my old friend was deaf.

Ah, that would explain why he had looked at me and grinned rather than answering my all important question about his comings and goings.

For those of you who don’t know, I have a very large soft spot for the deaf and hard of hearing community.

So of course, I instantly fell in love with my old friend.

In fact, I have always really wanted to learn sign language, I truly desire to be able to communicate with such an incredible community of people.

However, apparently I don’t desire it enough to sit in a class for longer than 2 hours.

Even though I took 10 years of Spanish and remember approximately 2 broken sentences, I figured that 2 hours was plenty enough for me to learn ASL.  Shockingly, it was not.

I annoy myself.

Anyway, as I nestled my girl in my arms I watched as the old man and his seat mate communicated in the most primitive way.

They passed notes.

As I sat back with awe at watching the barriers of age, disability, color, ethnicity or anything else for that matter melt away,  I was amazed.

We are all just people who need community.  We need connection. We need love.

As I was brimming with all kinds of love, I leaned over to Zach and asked him nicely not to murder the man who put his seat back on me.

So he didn’t.

I think he may be sweet on me.

I’m so glad that I had the privilege of meeting a new old friend and helping my husband escape prison.

A good day indeed.