Halfway Through

I was thrilled when I woke up this morning and knew I could go to work!  I hopped out of bed at 5:30 with more energy than Maya after a piece of cake.  I went to the gym, took a shower, packed Maya’s lunch, cleaned up, made Maya’s breakfast, cleaned up again, made my lunch, cleaned some more, and when I finally settled into the glow of Monday morning, Maya announced she had other plans for the day.  “No school today”, she said, “just play.”  I humored her for a while. 

Despite being a day late and a dollar short we made Thanksgiving turkeys.

She was so enthralled with making belated turkeys that I had to pry her away with false promises.  I knew she’d forget that I told her we’d finish the project after school.  Just like she forgot when I told her she could eat a piece of Halloween candy every day after dinner.  The Halloween candy has since been consumed by the guys at my office.  Yes, I’ve lost count of how many ways I am a horrible mother. 

Work was crazy because I was off all last week.  But the day flew by.  I love it when Mondays fly by.  I wish the next 7 days would fly by too.  Today marks my 7/14 days of the Fat Flush Plan.  I’m noticing that I have a slight obsession with fractions.

The last week has been hard.  Really hard.  I’ve eaten tons of vegetables, fruit, fish and eggs, and thats it.  What do I miss the most?  Bread and butter.  And Trader Joe’s chocolate.  I haven’t had chocolate in 7 days which is a new record for me.  I must admit I am quite proud of that because I didn’t think I could do it.  I also wasn’t supposed to have salt on anything but I was feeling too dizzy to keep that one in check.  I hope Ann Louise Gittleman can forgive me.  Ann, I swear I’ve followed your plan to a T otherwise. 

 Sorry I have to go – Ali just stormed out of the kitchen to inform me we are in a “red alert” stage because we are “dangerously low on sugar.”  I better rush to Trader Joe’s, even though its 8 pm and I am in my pajamas, because if we are in a “red alert” things could get scary if sugar isn’t produced in time for his morning cup of tea. 

Not. Going. To. Happen.