Tag Archives: anniversary

Yard Sale!

Yesterday was our fifth wedding anniversary. We’ll start there. A week ago, my Mom called and offered to take Felix overnight, so we could have anniversary date night. Initially, we were like, “Um, yeah, but can we do it Saturday night instead?” Then Mark had a brilliant idea!

Rewind five years and two months. Wibbly wobbly…timey wimey… (extra credit if you get that)

A soon-to-be-married CDG and Mark sign a mortgage on the house in which they now reside. Mark promptly begins gutting it. Over the next five years, he systematically guts 75% of the second floor and rebuilds it all–beautifully, I might add.

All the stuff we needed out-of-the-way while various parts of our home were unfinished find their way into the spare bedroom. Chaos ensues. Our cat, who went to live with a very nice lady named “Cindy” about six months ago, spent four and half of those years being angry at me for:

  1. moving Mark in with us
  2. moving her to a new home
  3. renovating the home, loudly, with power tools,
  4. getting dogs, and
  5. having a baby

Then, petfinder.com and I found her “Cindy.” Everyone, including the cat, loves this situation. But I digress.

She spent those angry years peeing on the carpets in the spare bedroom. If we shut her out of that room, she peed in the bathroom, or on the basement floor. Just. Eeew.

Due to the overwhelming amount of stuff in the spare bedroom, we couldn’t get the carpets up and out until after the cat was gone. Until we suddenly found ourselves with a free and childless Saturday morning in June. And Mark had a brilliant idea!

Say it with me now, “Yard. Sale.”

So, last week we cleared everything out, sorted, purged and organized. The carpets came out, along with the smell–halleluia!–and we got ready for our yard sale.

What? A romantic fifth anniversary weekend shouldn’t include a yard sale? It worked for us! We also squeezed in dinner out, sushi to celebrate the sale, and adult… conversation. Gutter minds…

So, for the past week, the words “yard sale” have been in large font around our house, and my mind keeps turning back to the ski resort slang term yard sale, referring to a spill so bad that all your gear scatters when you fall, as though it were on display at a yard sale, rather than assisting you with your alpine descent.

Since what I lack in skiing prowess and athleticism, I make up for in enjoyment (my Dad, who taught me to ski, always says, “If you don’t fall, you’re not trying hard enough!”), yard sales were a frequent and prominent part of my downhill skiing experience. If I had a dollar for I hit the snow with my poles ten feet away in opposite directions and my skis on their way down the mountain without me, listening to some yahoo on the lift calling out, “YARD SALE!” I wouldn’t need to go back to work.

Of course, it’s been more than five years since I’ve skied. So we put my ski boots out. At an actual yard sale.

Happy Anniversary!

Crave-y Rabid Boar

I have been all kinds of crave-y lately.

As with many behavior changes, when I start out, it’s hard. For the first two weeks I was back on Weight Watchers, I literally wanted to EAT EVERYTHING THAT WASN’T NAILED DOWN. Seriously. It was gross. But I stayed on track, I made smart choices, I stacked the cabinets and fridge in my favor.

And I lost.

And as the weeks went by, my body adjusted to fewer, more nutritionally dense calories, and I stopped wandering the kitchen like a rabid boar.

And I lost some more.

So, I started exercising. Just some WiiFit in the afternoons while Felix was napping. It was hard, and I was sore, but it was fun. I know. I know. Fun? Seriously. Fun. Exercise packaged as play. Whodathunkit? So, I started doing it more, and daily, and now I’m challenging myself to faster, more, yes, oh, yes, more, faster… wait. What? Ahem.

And I lost some more. I hit a small weight loss milestone. I stepped up my goals.

And promptly fell on my ass.

This week, in part because hormones are tricky wee pests, and partially because I am just a teeny bit nervous and stressed about my new job which starts on Monday, I have, again, been eating everything that isn’t nailed down.

This doesn’t bode well for my trip to the scale tomorrow. But I will go. Because accountability, to myself, even if I show it by being accountable to a receptionist at a Weight Watchers center, is at the core of why I’m making these behavior changes. I am responsible for keeping this body healthy. When my body is healthy, I am happier, more focused, a better wife and mother, a better nanny. I am the only one who can accomplish this for myself. I cannot do this if I’m too busy scarfing down pretzels and macaroni and cheese leftovers.

Which is why I put down the string cheese and the chocolate cookies, and wrote this post.

Also, today is my 5th Wedding Anniversary. I love you, hon!