Sugar-Coating The Pavement…

Y’all… the humiliation is real… and also the bruising. Whitney’s famous face-planting status is alive and well, except I wouldn’t really call it well because seriously, what’s well about living with your head implanted in an ant hill? Nothing. I rest my case. This past Thursday evening I was out woggercizing with a friend when my left rocking horse shoe hit half on the paved sidewalk and half on the grass, turning my ankle and before I knew what was going on, I was cavorting with the earth worms. But, it’s fine y’all because my knee and right leg broke my fall. I’d post a picture of the horror that is my right leg, but I’ll save you all from having to stare at the ugliness of the pasty white against a black and blue and purple background that spreads from mid-shin to above my knee. My friend said I was very graceful whilst falling with this face plant, after which I laughed for 20 minutes straight because have you seen me be graceful… ever!?!? I rest my case. I imagine it’s more like an oversized, under-inflated basketball because I’m pretty sure I bounced at least twice. In short, strained left ankle, banged up right knee, bruising, whiplash, felt like I got run over by a dump truck the next several days (still ongoing), and an ego the size of a pea brain… but nothing broken… Someone was watching out for me, y’all! You don’t fall weighing this much and come off without breaking something that often. KNOCK ON WOOD! I would also like to give a shoutout to the 82 passing cars and 15 dudes mowing the condominum lawns… y’all owe me for the show I just put on!

Having taken a handful of psychology classes and also having typed and/or listened to psychology reports on a daily basis, I think I’m pretty qualified to diagnose my disease… coughcoughrealpsychologistslookawaynow. It’s day 15 without sugar and so the little gremlins that make the cogwheels move around in my brain are all like, WTH!?!? Where’s our IV drip of cookies and chocolate!?!?!? I’m pretty sure one of the gremlins subliminally saw a cookie on the pavement that day, except it was just a mirage. Kind of like those people who are thirsty in the desert and they keep seeing like 12 fresh water lakes in the distance… except with cookies and sugar deprivation. So, the gremlin was all like, activate klutz bone, thus the ankle turned and I was gnawing on the pavement pebbles as if they were chocolate chips. DIAGNOSIS: Sugar-coating the pavement! What’s the cure? Probably more sugar, but you’ll have to work a lot harder than that, dear gremlins!

This weekend was hard on the not eating sugar front, but I amazed myself and passed with flying colors! Is it just me or does anyone else feel that they are entitled to eat cake every time there is a holiday? Just me? Okay then. I feel like special food is required on special days and/or days without my usual routine. Suckers… try again next Independence Day! I can’t say I’ve missed sugar these last few weeks until I think about it… and then I start to want it something fierce. I guess it’s a good thing my brain only works once every 4 days now. Yesterday I made my favorite All Bran breakfast muffins and totally left out the sugar (it calls for half a cup normally). They still taste fine. I probably wouldn’t have said that 2 weeks ago, but now that I’m eating dates for my sugar fix, they’re just fine and dandy.

Hi’s everyone… me and gramma goes on a walk!

Happy 9 months, Baby BoBo!!

My daddy did my hairs to match his!

I hope we all take a few moments this Memorial Day to remember those brave men and women who have fallen so that we could live in this free country. The sacrifices they and their families have made are above and beyond anything I could ever fathom doing. Much love and respect from me to those who have served and are serving. Thank you!

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Adventures In Sugar-Freeing…

I’m sure that title would make a spectacular movie said no one ever… except maybe… nah… no one EVER! I thought I could think of someone it would be interesting to… nope… can’t. Moving on!

They say history repeats itself… over and over and over and in my case add 1400 more overs and you’ll have it pretty close. So, when Christopher Columbus (whom I’ve learned is a horrible man) accidentally discovered America even if it had already been discovered (egoes… can’t live with ’em), it was almost like Whitney’s diabetes coming out of hiatus… same story… different year. I had been in sugar diabetes hiatus for a handfull of years… and when I say hiatus I mean it’s always still been there, but I’d been able to manage it through diet and exercise and my hemoglobin A1c numbers have looked dagnabbed flawless. My massive weight loss was what caused it to go into remission, and so over the last few years as I’ve been slowly gaining instead of losing, my hemoglobin A1c number inched it’s way upward. Nine months ago when I went to the doctor it had barely surfaced above the dreaded 7 number. A week and a half ago when I went to the doctor again, it’s now above 8, and I’m now back on medication for it. I can’t blame anyone, but myself… and my good frenemy, food, but food doesn’t shovel itself, so let’s blame Whitney’s hand-to-mouth disease too. Danged hands, anyway! The ironic part of that story, I haven’t gained any weight in the 9 months since it went from just above 7 to just above 8, so there’s proof that it’s about what you eat, and not how much you weigh.

Sugar is my nemesis. I could eat sugar all day every day and not blink an eyeball. It’s addicting… it’s one of those manufactured food majigs that bores itself into your life and just like that relative who overstays their welcome (Not any of my relatives certainly), it won’t go away. Sugar is the bomb dot com from the 90s, y’all!

Last Monday when I got my lab results, I decided I needed to quit being so dang passive agressive and do something about it, so a haphazard plan was put into place that I’d abstain from anything overtly sugar, including MILK CHOCOLATE (oh the dagger), cookies, cake, candy, etc., etc., etc., for at least the next month and then when I’ve weaned myself from the addiction, limit the sugar to once a week (or twice on very special occasions) because let’s face it, sugar ain’t going away. Today marks day 8 with no sugar… I’m not sure it was my smartest idea to start tackling this beast around the same time as hormone hoarding is hormoning because I haven’t been exactly pleasant… but at least I haven’t been convulsing in the corner without my IV drip of sugar… yet. Never say never say never.

Yesterday I got out the food processor and processored me up some Almond Joy Energy Balls (click here for the recipe), which are entirely sugar-free… made with dates, unsweetened cocoa powder, almonds, and unsweetened coconut flakes (which I had to go to the health food store to buy… grocery stores are anti-sugar-free coconut, y’all). I wouldn’t lie to you, maybe it’s because I haven’t eaten any sugar all week, but they are mighty tastee… almost exactly like an almond joy flavor, but more datey… and way less melt-in-your-mouthy… sometimes you feel like a nut, sometimes you don’t. Twenty points to whomever can tell me where that jingle is from!?

It’s like I’m turning into a person of the Earth or something… but with showers and deodorant. You are welcome.

QUESTION OF THE DAY: Do you have any go-to sugar-free treats/snacks?

Lookit my BoBie Bear… feeding himself all by his lonesome…

Hi errybody… see my new high chairs!?

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Let’s Be Cooler This Week…

This past week has been an interesting week for me. Interesting in that it has been as weird as anytime Kanye West opens his yapper. I would say it was a bad luck week, but I just started my positivity movement 5 minutes ago, and it would suck to already break my 4-1/2 minute positivity streak! YAY, WHITNEY!! Dang… back to 0… I just complained about my new neck pillow… it’s awkward y’all! Because my old one disintegrated in the washing machine this weekend after 2 years of regularly washing it once a week… and I’d just broken it in too! Let’s take a moment to mourn the neck pillow. Okay, moving on.

Summer semester also started this past Monday, after a 3-day break from spring semester ending… which made me all cranky, and now I’m pretty much on a strike because it’s taken me all dagnabbed week to read 30 pages in my sociology book, it’s Sunday night and I still have 7 pages left, the homework assignment and the quiz. Homework… let’s be cool and start doing you, okay!?

Classes for summer semester include a juvenile delinquency course for my sociology minor and a physics course dealing with the universe and cosmology, which is required and my guidance counselor has told me I needed to take it every semester now for the past 4 years and I’ve put it off, but now I only have like 3 semesters left (2 after summer) and I sorta can’t put it off any longer. I cried for like 5 days when the first assignment this week was an algebra quiz. Uhhhhh… the last time I did algebra was in high school, and I don’t mean to date myself, but that was longer than 10 years ago, but less than 100 years ago… you do the math! Math deals with numbers… why do I have 15 letters in these dang equations! I’ve been watching algebra tutorials all week long, and it’s like watching someone giving a lecture on molecular fusion… except more annoying. It would work better, if you’d tutorial the exact same problems I’m doing, YouTube geniuses! Let’s hope that Whitney’s brain develops a love for all things mathematics before the end of the semester… but let’s not hold our breaths!

Rounding out the weirdness, I spent 5 hours in the dentist’s chair and 1000 bucks… spent 700 bucks to get my Beulah the Buick car’s air conditioner fixed (after 4 years of not having an air conditioner), only to have it break again the next day. Yep… she’s going back into the shop on Tuesdee… and then I somehow threw out my back and couldn’t move or walk for 4 days… which was cool and all because it gave me an opportunity to start my new positivity movement, which I will have to start again after I finish writing this post… see how hard it is to be positive!? Well, I’ll be Aunt Bea!

Lookit… BoBo has moved on from grand theft autoing Beulah the Buick to sports cars… we always knew he had good taste in criminal activity.

He says… I so proud of myself!

Happy Birthday to my Dad (yesterday)… He turned 65 years young and doesn’t look a day over 64! I meant 40! Stop it! I’ve said this already in an FB post and a card, so I’m kind of like a really broken record, but the thing I most took away from my dad is hard work… he’s worked hard all of his life and taught my sister and I to do the same. He was also a great example of service. He’s done many services quietly and without being asked to friends and neighbors. Hope year 65 is a good one, Dad!

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Moms…

Happy (belated) Mother’s Day to all of you selfless, tireless, hard-working, underappreciated, long-suffering, little-brat-butt-kicking, wooden-spoon-teeth-bearing, sweet mommas out there in the bloggerverse and in my friend- and family-verse. I hear there’s no job more rewarding and no job more exhausting than being a momma. I hope your families and kidlets spoiled you all rotten and that you were showered with thoughts and cards of appreciation and love.

This song called, “Mom” from Garth Brooks’s newest album is a sweet reminder for all of you chasing after havoc-wreaking toddlers, for those angsting over teenagers straying from the right, and for empty-nester mothers longing for the days when they had little ones… Hugs and love to you all!

***

I wasn’t going to bring this up, but when I’m feeling down, there’s nothing better than to spew out all of my thoughts onto the internet (you are welcome spewing society of internet followers), so here’s me spewing… take it with a bucket of salt substitute. Mother’s Day has always been a bittersweet day for me. I am thankful for my sweet momma, and the fact that she is still here on this Earth when many are missing their own sweet mommas, and for her tireless efforts to try to make a lady out of me (sorry it’s taking so long, mother). I’m thankful for the examples and love from all the moms who are part of my sphere, and the genuine friendship they offer me. I’m also always left with a feeling of semi-failure and of longing to be a part of this great motherhood club you all have going on.

I know the purpose of life is different for everyone, and I stray so far from the normal purpose that it sometimes leaves me confused, with a desire to have taken the more normal life path. I am also not sure why I was not chosen to be a mother… was I not cut out for the task? Why do I not get little hearts to cherish and love and rear up into functioning adult people? It also leaves me with a feeling of loneliness… and I can’t help it, I always think of the future… who’s going to cut my brittle toenails and change my bed sore bandages? 😛 You are welcome for that visual.

I’m pretty good at ignoring these feelings/brushing them to the back of my brain and living life as I go, but every so often the thoughts bubble up and overwhelm my senses…

My depressing blog post of the year. I also had another depressing topic to choose from (the newest depressing weight loss/metabolism study), but I suppose that will have to wait for another week. Hallelujah! In the meantime, keep trucking y’all… enjoy the lot you were given in life and forge ahead searching for that pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Pretty sure count chocula and the Trix rabbit are conspiring with the Lucky Charms leprechan to hide it from us… but we’ll recruit Tony the Frosted Flakes Tiger and get it anyway! They’re Grrrrrrrrreeeeeaaaaattttt! You will only know that reference if you watched TV in the 80s and 90s… sue me.


Look everyone… I go shopping with Auntie Whitty at Costco. She pretended to buy me these books but then put them back at the checkouts. BoBo… don’t tell people that!


Auntie Whitty… you need to brush your hairs better today…

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My Little Red Wagon…

Short and sweet tonight. I’m supposed to be trying to finish up my final folklore collection project and paper due today and have to wake up in 12-1/2 minutes to sit in the dentist chair for 5 years. Oh teeth… birds have it made in the shade… they can fly and they have no dagnabbed teeth! The worm thing is a little disconcerting, but I digress.

Back in the olden years of Whitney and sister Lindsay, we had a little red wagon that we would tie to the back of our bikes and tear through the trailer court carrying all sorts of treasured items, stuffed animals, tea pots, nekked and immodest and anatomically incorrect Barbies… you know, things all little girls dream of. It would always tip over around every turn, so we’d stop in the middle of the road to pick up all of our treasures and play dodge the speeding car… oh memories. As we grew older, the wagon remained, but it also rusted out and lost its sheen, the wheels became shredded, and the brightness of the fire engine red faded to a putrid mauve-ish color. Kind of exactly like Whitney, but with more wheels and way less teeth (stay tuned… give me 20 years).

Before BoBo was bourne (bwahahaha… see what I did there?), my dad dug the rusted piece of junk out of the shed, cleaned it up, repainted it, put new wheels on it, and gave it to him. The little red wagon lives on… I hope BoBo uses it for all of his treasured items too… Bring it, BoBo!


See my teefins… Oh BoBo… be a bird!


SPRING!!!!!!!! It smells so glorious standing next to these trees… my allergies don’t agree, but I sure do!

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Be A Rhinoceros…

The above picture has been going around the internet meant as a source of inspiration to follow one’s dreams for years now. I’ve seen many a person post it to their social media accounts and/or blogs as a way to motivate themselves and others. My opinion on this supposedly innocent little inspirational picture… I HATE it! Not only that, I also find it dangerous, and like most/ALL of the political candidates this year, it’s also serving only to subliminally plant evil vibes of low self-esteem and even lower self-worth. In short… IT SUCKS!

Explain yourself, Whitney! It’s a happy rhinoceros chasing his dream of becoming a gallant unicornhorse majig with a luxurious mane and tail, slim and strong, heroic and beautiful. There’s only one problem… that rhinoceros isn’t a unicorn… he will never be a unicorn… no matter how many laps he does on that treadmill or how many biceps curls he does at the gym. He will never have a luxurious mane or tail, and he will never grow a horn of such beauty and majesty. He won’t. He’ll always be a beautiful, gallant rhinoceros!! End of story!

And you know what, that’s a beautiful thing. He wasn’t meant to be a unicorn… he was put on this Earth to be a rhinoceros… and his goal in this life is to become the best dighibbed rhinoceros he can be. He can run on that treadmill to become a healthier, trimmer rhino… but he’s always going to be a rhino. Embrace yourself, sweet rhino. You have so many things to offer this world that the unicornhorse majig doesn’t. People need your rhino skills and your rhino personality. They need you to be you… because there’s no one on this Earth just like you… and that makes you dagnabbed special. Never forget that!

Be a rhinoceros, my friends… because you’re awesome… and also, unicorns don’t exist!

*****

Lookit my Baby BoBo… hims wants to eat cat ears for dinner! Give it to him, Lindsay!

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Fuzzy Brain Syndrome…

Y’all… don’t worry about me, my folks are in Italy at the moment and have been texting me very inappropriate pictures of nekked statues. Just because you’re a statue from a bajillion years ago does not mean you get a pass from wearing clothes! The HUMANITY! Alert the church elders! With parents like that it’s no wonder I turned out the way I did! Thank you, Mr. Rogers… and BoB Ross.. and Jem and the Holograms…

In other news, I’m a mess! What’s that you say? How is that any different than any other day. Sit down, smarty pantaloons! I’m messier than normal, which should down right scare the bejeebers out of Northern Utah and surrounding states. I’m having a particularly bad case of fuzzy brain syndrome. Just this weekend, I’ve managed to give away tickets to a concert to a friend wherein I told her the wrong date for the concert… during a visit with a friend (hi Audrey), I managed to call her the wrong name a few times… I forgot to bring my debit card when I went to lunch with a friend and she had to pay and now I’m sure she’s having 2nd thoughts about being my friend (the money is in the mail)… and then there was the incident with the police officer. I’m not a fan of running into police officers. It’s not that I’m not grateful for the work they do… it’s just, you see, I’m intimidated by authority figures. I’m the type of girl who will try to blend into the wall to avoid being called out by someone in charge.

Short story long… on Saturday I was filling up my gas tank at the new Maverick downtown. I was the only one at any of the tanks, and so there were 800 empty places for people to fill up that weren’t the same tank I was at. But no, this police officer pulls right up to the exact same tank I’m at, but on the other side. I would have given him a talking to, but that would require some pretty strong alcoholic beverages and perhaps a couple of Valiums. I’m all trying to stare at everything but this police officer, and so I pretended I was picking the 7 billion blobs of bird doo off of my windshield (thank you magpies)! After what seemed like a katrillion years, my tank finally finished and I proceeded to remove the nozzle hose majig and put it back on the tank. When done, I then had to answer questions about wanting a receipt and/or a car wash, and I was all flustered because I just wanted to leave.

I finally got into my car and started pulling away from the tank when all of a sudden the police officer came running at me right in front of my dagnabbed car (which was moving by the way), waving his arms. ARE YOU SERIOUS!?!?! Is “too much bird doo on car” a felony now!? I was perplexed because I had made sure I’d fastened my seatbelt and I was going like 1 mph at the moment, so I certainly was not speeding, and it was the middle of the day so none of my headlights or taillights were burnt out… I certainly haven’t been in a drug bust recently… and I made sure to hide all of my open Ovaltine containers! WHAT GIVES!?!?

I tremblingly rolled down my window and must have looked like a frightened DoDo bird with my mouth all hanging open and my lips trembling because I’m about to cry…

“Ma’am, you forgot to put the lid on your gas tank and close the cover.” He said.

Oh…

Ain’t it glorious to be an overreacting woman species, y’all!? I then forgot to put my car in park before I tried to get out, but his legs are fine everyone… GOSH!

***

BoBo and hims teefins pic Of The Week:

 

I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the passing of my sweet sweet friend, Janell Fowers.  What a beautiful spirit who is now free from all of her earthly burdens.  She was always so kind to remember me and give me a call to talk her favorite topics, vacuums and Roto Rooter… and to just ask how I was and how my family was.  We also always had a laugh about her having to wear headphones whenever I’d do a musical number in church because I was “too loud!”  My family agrees with you, Janell!   I learned so much from her ability to accept everyone for who they were.  I was definitely not the friend to her that she was to me, but maybe that’s something I needed to learn.  Thank you, Janell! I love you!  You are an angel now, sweet girl!  Much love, prayers, and hugs to her family and friends.

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