A Slave to Marketing

You've met my daughter, right? She's 4 1/2. I've written about her before. The Monkey (the child never sits still). She was watching SpongeBob while I was working at 10pm (working on my "Mother of The Year" acceptance speech, of course). A commercial appeared before her about the wonders of Pantene Pro Vitamin shampoo and how it makes one's hair silky soft.

"Mama! You really need to get that Pro Vitamin shampoo! I really want you to have silky soft hair, Mama!"

"What are you talking about, baby? I already have soft hair!"

"No. No you DON'T! Not like that! And you also need a slider hamburger maker that that loud man with the beard yells about. You really need that, too. Get them both tomorrow."

Have I mentioned she successfully talked her grandparents into purchasing her a Snuggie?!?

-B(Sting)

The Naked Truth

I don't like being naked.

I don't like to look in the mirror, even in passing. I don't like to look down. I don't even like to write about myself being naked. It gives me anxiety. The word "naked" makes me squirmy.

I don't like to be naked when I'm alone. And I certainly don't like to be naked in the presence of others.

Imagine the horror when someone approaches me at the gym in the locker room while I'm changing. I'm shocked by this behaviour! I'm standing there, topless, and a woman will start talking to me. "Hey, B! Great class today!!!! That was awesome music. How often do you do cycle? Got plans for the weekend?"

I don't even know what to say in these situations. I'm not really comprehending the questions or banter because my brain is screaming, "RED ALERT! YOU'RE TOPLESS! COVER UP!! AVERT YOUR EYES! RUN AWAY! NO... DON'T RUN AWAY! YOU'RE TOPLESS!!!!!!"

I exude all the appropriate 'don't approach me' signs: I avoid eye contact at all costs, I change clothes as quickly as I can - being sure to NEVER expose both halves of my body at the same time, and I crouch over like I'm scared and ashamed. What about me, in this setting, says, "Yo! Come on over and let's chat over a nice bottle of water!"?

Oh sure, I try to act all cool and nonchalant when someone is talking to me in my state of undress. And when I do that, I end up looking like some sort of shameless porn star... with my hands on my hips (still topless, mind you) gesturing and carrying on like I don't have a care in the world.

I have no idea how to avoid or handle these situations without acting like a complete ass.

-B(Sting)

Articulation

While dining with my 4 1/2-yr old daughter, she mentions my face is sweaty. I explain to her that it's not sweat. I have oily skin and occasionally have to blot the oil from my face to remove the shiny, sweaty look.

While blotting my face with a napkin, I go on to explain that the good news is all that extra oil will keep my skin looking young and wrinkle-free as I get older.

She looks at me casually and replies, "Whatever it is, it's distracting. Please wash your face. And use water."

She's lucky she's cute!

-B(Sting)
Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T

I Need An Intervention

Recently, my 4-yr old daughter and I came down with the flu. Before you wag your finger at me... yes, we had our flu shots. Yes, we wash our hands and live by the golden rule of hand sanitizer. Short of donning HAZMAT suits, we followed all the rules. But, alas, we were still hit by the bus called Influenza Type B. We both felt like crap... hot, sloppy, steamy piles of pooh. Great visual, eh? That's also how we looked (probably smelled, for all I know. But I don't know cuz we couldn't actually smell anything!).

Here's where the cause for an intervention comes in: Obviously, I haven't been able to burn my usual 600+ calories per day in cycle class or training. I also have been feeling too crappy to cook healthy meals for the family (I'm laughing pretty hysterically, now, because that last sentence leads you to believe I EVER cook healthy meals... or cook... period). Apparently, the flu also prevents me from making smart food choices while I convalesce (and not workout).

While battling a fever and hacking up my lungs for the past 4 days, I have actually convinced myself that I am burning calories! Enough calories, in fact, to allow myself to eat several servings of fried rice, Doritos, 3 1-lb bags of Smarties, and pretty much anything else that wasn't nailed down. "Feed a cold" right?!?! (Someone say 'yes', here... pleeeeeeeease). Last nite, I caught myself thinking, "I'll probably feel a lot better tomorrow. Well enough to maybe even get back to the gym. Well enough to get back to eating right. I better cram as much food in my mouth as I can before I go to bed, then! Game ON!"

Last nite, my belly hurt from eating so much junk. Today, my belly is distended (translation: pudgy). I've decided to drastically cut carbs for the rest of the week and weekend (weekend... yeah... riiiiiiiight) to undo the damage I have done since Saturday. I'm definitely going back to the gym today (I'm not above working out several times this weekend to maaaaaaaybe allow for a feeeeeeeeeew yummy beer-carbs or cookie-carbs).

Meanwhile, my daughter has lost her appetite and won't even finsh one, measly roll of Smarties! Some girls have all the luck!

-B(Sting)

I'm baaaaaaaaaaaack...

I'm back after a long break. It wasn't intentional. I'm just lazy. In fact, I compose all sorts of funny, insightful posts in my head when I'm in the shower, wide awake at 3am, in a cycle class... you get the idea. But then I eventually get out of the shower and start some sort of task, fall asleep, or leave the cycle class to start a new task. The moment is lost, the words are gone, and you're left hanging. I'm so sorry. I will do better. I will not let you, my GIANT readership, down!

Ironically, I have nothing to say right now. But I will. Oh yes. I will.

Stay tuned as this story develops...

-B(Sting)