Here we go again

Well, it has been more than a few months. Wasn't really sure I would continue with the blog, as no one reads it but me, but we are giving it one more try.
Im seriously more than ready. I will be 46 this year...Hard to believe. We have our donor, and our surrogate who has bravely decided to hang in there with us.

All in all, with the money flying out the window at this point. Who cares? We are in knee deep anyway, so what a few thousand more?

Another dilemma all together, is how to get my fat ass into shape.
It is a sad fact that Im chubby. I have tried just working out, and with my back ground honestly, it should be coming off, but I guess I can't eat carbs anymore.

Sucks! I could eat bread, NO, I could live on bread...who ever said "Man does not live by bread alone", got it all wrong.

Bread and butter, bread and cheese, bread and peanut butter and jelly, I am not picky. Ill even eat days old bread, not so fresh. Cold, hot out of the oven, toasted, dunked in homemade gravy, (I have even dreamed making my own loaves)...

Doesn't matter. Rolling up that doughy goodness and savoring it bite by bite...can't get much better, unless of course there is pasta!

Give someone a big bowl of pasta with homemade gravy, some Parmesan and some mozzarella, you could end wars, I swear. A big Italian meal always generates good conversation, smiles and a full stomach. Who could be pissed off after eating that?

With carbs as the enemy, I have declared war on my midsection.

I aspire to have some kind of six pack, if it kills me. Hell, Id settle for a four pack at this point.

With my roll, hugging my every step, I vowed once seeing Sarah Jessica Parker in SiTC, that I would get in shape.

Jen are you out there?

July is the month. I am giving myself til the end of July to have some discernible difference in my Siamese twin.

So instead of dieting like a fiend, I will omit starchy carbs and sugar during the week.

We'll see what happens.

I started quasi running at the gym, with my husband who deems my efforts pathetic.

I am working slowly to garnering any stamina, left in the 45 year old body that I have. I can run a few minutes, but eventually I am just walking. It is a mental thing, I know, but I cant seem to push past it. So I walk- run for twenty minutes.

I will push to 30 and see if that helps. Running is a slow and painful thing...I never liked it. Ever. But I do like finishing.

Period. But to start..well lets just say it is a bit easier with a ipod shuffle, which muffles the whimpering, cries and moans leaving my aged frame.

I thought about blogging just on the horrors of running. The mental finesse one needs to accomplish the lofty goal of running more than a few mere minutes, is astounding.
How people three times my size, are on the treadmill pounding away for like an hour is beyond me. They must be on crack or some other numbing drug.

Physically, I am not a huge girl. Woman, whatever. When I say run my fat ass off, I don't mean it literally. I carry my weight in my arms and stomach. The rest of me is ok. So. when someone larger than me, runs and makes it look easy? It is annoying, on every level.
I am athletic, I am strong, but I have the wind capacity of a hamster.

It is, Im afraid , pathetic.

So I go to anything that will help, with the exception of anything illegal. My visual at this point is the commercial, (can't remember what it is for) where the girl is running and she has two, (TWO!) amputated legs and she is running on these bouncy sort of man made limbs.

As I run, ( gasp, gasp gasp,) I think to myself, "God if the girl without legs can run, what the fuck is your problem!?" Unfortunately I don't have the answer. I believe my husband finds the answer filed under "laziness". My filing system would have it filed more under "More painful, than the most painful death".

See, I am a stocky woman. Not tall, never been tall. But muscles I have and the power to go with it. Ask me to hoist your desk, your refrigerator, hell maybe even your car, and I could probably do it, and that would push to most definitely do it, if someone was in danger.

However, with all these short twitch muscles, (muscles made for quick explosive movement,) there is no long distance anything in my repertoire. Unless maybe there is a snack at the end.

So running, not sprinting (which I did in high school fairly well)is not something near and dear to my heart.

But I am trying.

I doubt I'll ever like it but my goal day to day, is to not hate it more. If I can stay status quo, I'm winning the war!

Either way once this retrieval this time is done (July 11) I will wait to hear whether these little buggers decided to stick and if so, I will have nine months of ass kicking workouts to focus on.


We have talked with the adoption place, and alas no teenagers getting knocked up yet this summer. We are on hold, in an infinite holding pattern.

It not like I want to wish an unplanned pregnancy on anyone, but why does everyone start behaving themselves the minute our paperwork has been finalized?
Jeez...

Work had been intermittent, picking up hours here and there, since my coworker Julie is on vacation and my boss Shawney, just home from Viet Nam with her little girl.

Sometimes that is hard. Being around or with people who have babies, just magnifies what you don't yet have, and it is heartbreaking in ways I cant explain.

I guess unless you have been there, explaining it makes no sense.

Still...running for my life.