Saturday’s regularly scheduled Date Night was cancelled on account of our son puking up blueberries at 6am, then again at 7:30am, then shitting his pants during a poorly-considered trip to Toys-R-Us at 10:30ish.
Of course, since our boy is freaking Wolverine or something, he was doing backward somersaults off the loveseat by the time Daddy woke up around noon-thirty. Still, since bodily fluids were involved, we cancelled the sitter and stayed in for the night. (Alas, we won’t get to see Rogue One in the theater, after all.)
This morning, I woke up feeling fine, but things went south as the morning progressed. By the time I got to my desk, I wanted to lay back down and take a nap. I took some ibuprofen with my morning coffee, and my stomach protested at having anything in it, food or otherwise.
Luckily, I didn’t hurl — although I seriously thought I was going to at one point. I ate a light sushi lunch, and opted for a very light dinner, as well.
(Seems Daddy got a touch of it, too, but a more southerly vector, so to speak.)
Right now, I’m curled up on the couch under an afghan, sipping a mug of peppermint tea and trying not to fall asleep. If I feel like this tomorrow, I’m dropping off my son at Pre-K and coming right back home to bed. I haven’t taken an honest-to-god Sick Day, outside of using half-days for doctor’s appointments, since October 2015.
Man, I feel like ass.
Despite my best intentions, nothing is truly in bloom today. The ‘Ragtime’ Amaryllis just finished blooming last week, and I haven’t potted up any other bulbs quite yet. The ‘Pink Pearl’ Hyacinths i’m forcing haven’t done much more than peek an inch of green out of their bulbs, and the kalanchoes are just kind of chilling with no intention of blooming anytime soon.
I do have a bit of color in the house, at least. The poinsettia is hanging in there from the Christmas season.
The African Violet is showing signs of a bloom in the Very Near Future.
I have hope that there will be more blooms next month!
Realized last night that I never actually tested the slightly beat-up Rollei 35 I bought on eBay last year. The light meter doesn’t work, but that’s OK.
That would be a funnier title if I attended the spin class at work. Alas, I don’t do spin, since the one time I tried it, I managed to rotate one of my vertebrae. I have no plans to try spin ever again — even though that was a couple years ago.
What I am doing is getting back to my normal fitness routine. When I’m not being a total slacker (as I was over the holidays), I typically attend fitness classes at the work gym over lunch once or twice a week, then do weights once a week. I’ve been mixing it up recently, though, and throwing in some treadmill instead of strength training, just because tracking my cardiovascular fitness with my new Fitbit Charge 2 is a new fun thing for me. #datanerd
(Also because I’d have to adjust my lifting plan to my post-hiatus fitness level, and I haven’t felt motivated to do that yet, truth be told.)
Monday was kickboxing class.
The morning ritual starts with me — having finally convinced myself to get out of bed — walking down the short hallway, reaching inside Connor’s bedroom door, and turning on his lamp to start waking him up. Then I go into the bathroom to get ready for work, and he generally stays in bed until I come in and cajole him awake.
Lately, though, the cat has been going into his room before I get there. She hasn’t jumped up on his bed of her own volition yet, but give it time.
When I came out of the bathroom this morning, Connor’s door had been pushed wide open — presumably, when the cat walked in and right back out into the hallway. She followed me into Connor’s room, meowing loudly, as she does. I sat down on Connor’s bed, and she let me pick her up and stand her on my lap — another recent addition to the morning ritual. Connor sat up to listen to Mei purr.
While Connor and I sat on his bed, quietly petting Mei, she started turning in circles on my lap like a dog. Connor exclaimed, “She’s doing a cat jig!”
I’m glad to see Connor’s progress in learning how to pet our cat so she won’t just try to remove herself from the area. She still won’t stick around long — especially not on someone’s lap, and not without an adult also petting her — but she seems to enjoy his petting more than just putting up with it.
Related: I’m grateful that we have a fresh pet-hair-remover wand.
An old friend reminded me on Facebook (where I cross-post all my blog entries) that I need to do the “thought work” behind the food and fitness decisions that I make.
Sounded like a good time to reinstate the old Why Did I Eat That? exercise.
I don’t have it marked on the graph, but my Daily Target is 30 SmartPoints. I also get a Weekly Allowance of an additional 35 …which didn’t cover my indiscretions this week. Not even close. (But I at least kept tracking.)
Also, for those not familiar with Weight Watchers, the Points system is basically a way to encourage healthy food decisions — it’s loosely based on calories, with emphasis put on fresh fruits and vegetables and lean protein. Saturated fats and sugars are discouraged in the Points algorithm, as well.
So, depending on what I eat, my calories could look just fine, but my SP Values would be all wonky. That said, I ate way more calories than necessary on Tuesday and Thursday — 2,000 and 2,300 respectively. Sunday was around 1,400, but some of it was sugary snacks, which is why my SmartPoints total was all whack. On my two Perfectly On Plan days, I ate 1,200 and 900 calories, with a healthy percentage of my calories coming from protein.
You’ll note that I’m skirting the issue. So, why did I eat that? And what did I eat, anyway? (more…)
Now that I think about it, tonight’s meal counts for not two new recipes, but three:
- Ham Stock
- Split Pea Soup
- Sous Vide Pork Chops
I made the ham stock last weekend from the leftover ham bone from Christmas. It was then that I realized that an actual stock pot may be in my future, as my Dutch oven was not quite up to the task, volumetrically speaking.
Today, I used the ham stock in the split pea soup. (more…)