I'm A Fatty

I started a diet today. 

It is a forever diet. It's so that I can set a positive example for my son - and to be healthy for him. And proud of myself. I supposed I should say "life-style change" but that sounds lame so I won't. 

I am the biggest I have ever been. That sucks. I couldn't believe what I stepped on the scale and it read 199. I wasn't even that big when I was pregnant. That sucks. 

I wasn't supposed to start my diet until tomorrow - but I was too scared that I was going to step on the scale and it would say 200 - and I can't ever have that happen. I can't ever weigh that much. 

So - here we go. My posts might get meaner- because I am nasty when I'm hungry. My friend Ann says that I am pretty funny when I am cranky... so hopefully my blog will improve!! 

You want to know what sucks the most out of any of this? I weigh more than my husband. ARGH!! That blows!

Alright. Lets do this. 

The Fault In Our Stars

Are you ready for another book? Too bad - you don't get a choice. My latest book is The Fault In Our Stars by John Green.

(Spoilers!) 

This book has been hyped all over the place. That is usually a bad thing for me - it means that I will have very, very large expectations and then be disappointed. I was sure this was what I was in store for when I read the author's note:

"This is not so much an author's note as an author's reminder of what was printed in small type a few pages ago: This book is a work of fiction. I made it up.

Neither novels nor their readers benefit from attempts to divine whether any facts hid inside a story.  Such efforts attack the very idea that made-up stories can matter, which is sort of the foundational assumption of our species. 

I appreciate your cooperation in this matter."

Well. OK, then. 

I called TJ into the room to read this to him. I told him that I either loved this guy - or he was the biggest, most pretentious douche-face that I have ever read anything written by. I think I was right on both accounts. 

Super quick synopsis - Hazel has incurable cancer. She is going to die. However - no one really knows when since this miracle drug has stopped her mets in her lungs from growing. She is on borrowed time, and she knows it. Her parents are convinced she is depressed and needs to talk to someone and send her to this support group for teens with cancer in the basement of a church. 

She meets Augustus Waters. Augustus is in remission - and they strike up a friendship which quickly turns to much more while they deal with health scares from Hazel and their friends. One friend - Isaac - loses both of his eyes in his battle with cancer. Hazel is scared to get too close to Gus - because she is dying, but they keep a very close friendship. They bond over books - and Gus even uses his wish from a sort of make-a-wish place to take Hazel to the Netherlands to meet her favorite author, Peter Van Houten. Van Houten ends up being a sick, nasty drunk - who has had a child die from cancer and is not a believer in hope. 

In Amsterdam - we learn that Gus's cancer has returned, and he is dying. The end of the book is about the end of Gus. 

So. Freaking. Sad. 

I remember when I decided I really liked this book, when Hazel strikes down the "you have to have suffering to know joy" argument by pointing out that the existence of broccoli does not affect the taste of chocolate. I am totally stealing that in the future. Hazel's insight is genius. Living while dying has allowed her to have this kind of clarity that is refreshing. She is clear and direct without being mean and nasty - sometimes harsh - but the world is harsh. Cancer is harsh. 

I loved Gus too. I was surprised how much I liked him - because I usually have a hard time with characters who are TOO good. Gus is TOO good. He is perfect, he knows what to say, when to say it. He is strong, funny, sweet and kind - and I adore him. I physically felt calmer when I was reading about Gus, so I can only imagine how Hazel felt around him. 

The end of Gus is miserable. It is horrible to read about him peeing in his bed and getting stuck at a gas station, covered in his own vomit. As he shrinks, his presence shrinks - even in the telling. He feels smaller, and the end of this book is empty. I felt hollow - like everyone else in the book must be feeling. 

There were parts of the book I did not like. I didn't like the Anne Frank tour, with people standing around in a circle watching Gus and Hazel make out and cheering. Kaitlyn, Hazel's high school friend, is odd and just stuck in there a couple places. I understand she was supposed to show us how disconnected Hazel was - but it either did too good of a job or not good enough. 

Here is the thing. I don't think I like John Greene. What I am about to say is based on nothing other than the reading of this book. I have never read another thing written by him or about him. I get the impression that Mr. Green fancies himself as the smartest, most creative, deepest thinker on the block. He is right, of course. He is brilliant. He has creativity upon creativity. The guy wrote a book inside of a book for cripes sake. I was pretty sure when I was reading that An Imperial Affliction was not a real book. A quick trip to google confirmed my suspicions. I know all of this. I read his book. But come one dude, you don't have to point out all the freaking time that you are the only one that understands what these kids go through in "weird and impossible ways." There are times when he captures a feeling just perfectly - balancing it magically where you feel it but you can't explain. Then there are times when he gets to that moment - but being the only person who could ever understand - he has to explain it to us. Those moments feel condescending - not magical. 

The only reason this book doesn't get added to my "Love this book beyond words, will get added to those that I read over and over and over" list is John Green. My message to him: Mr. Green. You are as amazing as I think you think you are. Please get out of your own way - because I could love you. If I could get past hating you. Thanks. 

I Try Not To Judge...

But I do. Often.

I don't think I ever judged as hard as I did in the grocery store the other day. There was a woman there with two children, they were probably 4 and around Pant's age - so about a year and a half or so.

We were in that awkward thing where you are going down the same aisles but in different directions..so it starts with a small smile and nod and by the end you are practically best buddies. Only this lady and I were NOT ending up as friends.

Her children were being kids - and towards the end of our trip her baby was getting fussy. Instead of being a normal mom who wrapped up her trip quick or getting her kid a toy so she would calm down - she starts snapping at the baby to sit down and shut up. Nice.

I skipped an aisle or so to get away from them - because it was officially awkward - and from the next aisle I hear "Sit down. SIT YOUR BUTT DOWN!" and then a baby screaming. I round the corner to their aisle just in time to see the mother snatch up the baby and tell her to shut up again. The baby smacked the mother - which I don't really blame her, I would have slapper her too - and she said to her TODDLER -

"Do it. Lay another hand on me and I will beat your ass."

Nice.

It makes me wonder what she does to that poor kid at home if that is how she behaves in public. Ugh. I really wanted to march up to her and say "You treat your kid like that again and I'll beat YOUR ass." I had Pants with me though, and she was like 3 times me size. She would have killed me.

I don't understand how people 1. act like that in a public place and 2. act like that period. I don't understand what breaks in a person's brain to make them think it is ever OK to talk to a child like that. Then this woman is going to be shocked when her daughters are always in trouble in school for threatening other children. She just will not understand where they got it. Idiot.

Plus - even when Pants is working the last nerve - I look at that cute bottom lip poking out and I am done. Or he does the really cute foot stomping thing...that cracks me up.

I know I am not the best mom in the world. I think I'm the best mom for my child- but there are definitely more creative and do more in a day. Putting myself next to a woman like that though, makes me feel pretty darn good.

Welp - I got to go. I think I ruined some white chocolate raspberry bars and I need to make sure.

Yup. Ruined.

They taste rocking though. And I have enough stuff to make another batch.

This is why I'm fat.

That is a whole 'nother post.

You Have GOT To Be Kidding Me

What in the fresh hell is this bullshit?

Hey - weather? Its April 23rd. APRIL 23RD!!!!

Get it together.

Thanks.

Gotta Have My Pops

When it goes silent and there is a 15 month old in the house....nothing good is happening.

That is an entire bag of corn pops. I found Pants and the dachshunds chowing down as fast as possible. When I asked what was going on - the dogs froze waiting to be in trouble - and Pants offered me a pop. The bag was a new bag and had never been opened...the tenacity of a toddler is a terrifying thing.

I also noticed in this picture that a bunch of my tupperware from a different cabinet is there also. And a cupcake pan from under the stove. Busy boy.

Uglies

My latest book is Uglies by Scott Westerfeld.

(Again - Spoilers!)

Uglies is the story of America in the future. The powers that be have decided that past generations ruined their world with their stupid, petty, jealous minds. They decided to take care of all those problems - by taking sixteen year olds and giving them an operation that makes them gorgeous. When everyone looks the same and has the same opportunity - there is no fighting. They all renewable resources, all the power and food they want, they don't have to worry about money, the New Pretties party all night - life is great!

Tally can't wait to be pretty - because her best friend turned and left her behind. She meets another Ugly when she sneaks into New Pretty Town to see her best friend. Shay, her new friend, tells her of another place where people do not have the operation and stay ugly for life. Tally doesn't believe her and does not understand why someone would ever chose that life.

Then Shay disappears. All she left behind was a cryptic note to the Smoke, the hidden village where the forever-Uglies are hiding. Tally is kidnapped by the Specials - the people who run the City, and is blackmailed with her surgery to go to the Smoke, lead the Specials there - and they she can be pretty.

Tally does it - and while at the Smoke she sees how happy people are, how connected they still seem, she falls in love with David - who has never lived in a city at all. David's parents were doctors who used to perform the surgeries to change people to pretty and they discovered that during the operations - the Specials did something to the brain that caused lesions and pliability. That is why Pretties are happy.

The Specials find the Smoke, capturing the inhabitants, turning Shay pretty. Tally and David manage to break the others out - and David's mother thinks she found a cure for the lesions in Shay's brain. Shay will not consent to taking the medication, so Tally gets herself captured to be turned Pretty so she can try the cure.

This is a great book. As a woman, it made me feel a lot of things. I do know how to feels to look in a mirror and not be pleased at what I see. I do know how it is to be TOLD what is pretty. We are inundated all day with images of those who are gorgeous. I have felt jealous. I have wished that I was thinner and prettier. Never enough to go through plastic surgery or anything - but enough to allow the fleeting thought.

The message is wonderful. The message to embrace individuality, freedom, hard work, and critical thought. It talks about the value of our things, to make sure that we don't view our surroundings as disposable, and that we have to work for the things that are really important to us.

This book is a young adult book - and since my last book was YA also, I was more prepared for this writing. I was ready for it to be linear and simple. I didn't mind near as much in this book, the message and the society that was built was interesting enough to overlook the simpleness. I had a good time reading this - I am rooting for the characters, and I can't wait to find out what happens next. I hope Tally can handle being pretty.

Bruises Like A Peach

How many bruises have to be on your baby's head before people judge you in public?

Answer: 3.

Pants has more confidence than skill when it comes to his running and climbing skills than he has actual skill. Bonks and bumps are, sadly, a very common occurrence. Two incidents this week caused three bruises that have me getting the side-eye when we are out and about. I want to yell - "He is a toddler folks!!" - but then realize that they were actually just looking at the sale on cheez-its and weren't looking at me at all.

I'm sure I got the side-eye a couple times though. Positive. Pretty sure. I think.

Does the Why Make a Difference?

I have nothing deep or important enough to say about the terrible, disgusting act of terrorism that occurred yesterday in Boston. Many people who are much more eloquent have said it better than I ever could.

There is only one thing that I was thinking about while watching the coverage. After hearing person after person ask "why" - I have to say - I don't give a shit why. There is not a single thing that I could hear that would make me say "Oh - shoot. You are right. I totally understand now. Please, continue."

Seriously? Does it matter why? Will knowing the insane logic that that sick and twisted individual used to kill and maim over one hundred people make the fear less? Will it make the pain less? No. It wont.

You can't rationalize an irrational act. You can't talk sense with the senseless. You will not get sanity from the mind of the insane.

I want to make sure that whoever did this will not be able to ever do it again. I want to find anyone who helped him and make sure they don't try to follow in his sick footsteps. I don't really want to know his name or his story - because that is obviously what he wants. I want him to rot alone in the dark for the rest of his days. That's it. Seems simple to me.

My heart goes out to all who were affected in any way. I'm thinking of all of you.

There is a Toenail in the Tub

I was bathing the dachshunds in my tub the other day - and Delano pulled his usual frantic "ESCAPE! THIS WATER IS ACTUALLY ACID AND IS BURNING ALL OF MY SKIN OFF! I'M DYYYIIINGGG!!!!" routine.

I wrapped him up in a towel and started drying, turned around the grab the shampoo from the tub and there was a toenail laying in the bottom of the tub. I believe my brain said "Ho-ly Shit." I began frantically checking dachshund toes - even though I was 99 percent sure that it was Delano - Bean doesn't act like a spaz like Delano does.

Sure enough - there is a toenail missing from one of Delano's back feet. Shit. Blood freaking everywhere. We call the vet - to see what we should do - and the lady at the vet office said they were just "slammed with emergencies." If we wanted Delano seen - it would be a while.

I worked as a vet-tech a couple years ago - so I asked if there was anything that I could do. She said that all that they would really do was stop the bleeding, remove any extra nail if he didn't get it all off, and that is it. If he wouldn't leave it alone - he would have to wear one of those lovely cones so he didn't bug it.

Well - I happen to have one of those crazy collars and blood doesn't scare me or anything - so I sat cross-legged on the deck, with a shaking dog on my lap until the bleeding slowed. We tried to bandage it twice, but he walked out of it - so that was shot. And he would not stop licking it - so he is wearing a beautiful cone on his head. Which he is terrified of.

Here is the thing about Delano. He is terrified of his own shadow. Too much attention makes him piddle. He hides under the bed or behind the couch a lot. He prefers for you to rub him with your feet - because hands are just too much attention. It took him months to figure out that glass was, in fact, solid. he is the sweetest damn dog, but not so bright.

Now our house is filled with the sounds of the cone bouncing off the walls, Delano yipping when he moves wrong, and Pants squealing happily chasing an impaired Delano around. Delano could just just hop up on the couch where he is safe - but he is scared - because of the cone - so he doesn't.

It is going to be a long couple of days for that poor dog.

My Name is Gentry and I Have a Problem

Last weekend Nook had a sale.

It was 50% off of every one of their 1,000 bestsellers. 

WHAT!?!?!?!

I started clicking so fast that it sounds like a woodpecker had gotten into some cocaine. 

Clickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclick. 

I thankfully came out of my craze before I spent every single cent I had. I spent 60 bucks in about .458 seconds on 15 books. 

I abstained for the 40 others that I wanted. 

My name is Gentry and I am a book-a-holic. 

The Lost Hero

Today's book is The Lost Hero by Rick Riordan. It is the first in The Heroes of Olympus series.

(Will probably have some spoilers.)

I have not read the Percy Jackson series. I probably should have - there are apparently many overlapping characters, whom it is just kind of assumed that you know. There is also the whole Greek and Roman mythology thing that I am not completely familiar with - it was just kind of assumed that you had read the previous series and would be well versed in the god/demi-god/greek/roman myths. It was not hard to catch up though.

This is the story of Jason Grace - who just wakes up one day on a bus on the way to a delinquent camp and has no idea who he is. He has a girl holding his hand and a guy talking his ear off - but no memories of who they are or how they got there. About 10 minutes after they arrive at this camp - they are attacked by storm spirits, or venti, and saved at the last minutes by Jason's skill from who knows where - and some kids from Camp Half-Blood. Camp Half-Blood is where children of Greek Gods and mortals go to learn to channel their powers.

Jason ends up being the son of Zeus (or the Roman Jupiter) and finds out that Hera (Juno) has been captured and they have to free her before Gaea brings all the evil things back from the underworld and destroys the Gods. His friends, Leo and Piper, end up being ridiculously powerful demi-gods themselves and end up helping Jason in his quest. They are challenged at every step, and of course - end of saving the day- for now.

We learn at the end that Percy Jackson was sent to the Roman camp that Jason was from, without his memory. They are supposed to bring both sides together for the ultimate battle coming up with Porphyrion - the King of Giants.

I liked this book. I thought it was fine. I think my main issue with it was that I am used to reading books toward an older audience. This story is just so linear - its so simple. You see what is coming a mile away - and even all the bad guys that they face are formulaic. Its see bad guy + realize how much more powerful they are - two demi-gods because they get hurt = one of the three rising amazingly to the occasion and saving them all at the last moment! Then! Just when you think its safe! Oh no! Repeat.

Except the last battle of course - they all have to work together - the parts are stronger than the whole and they win the day.

It was fine, pretty fun, easy to read. I am very intrigued as to how they will bring the two camps together - I think that has the most potential for me.  The rest will probably be like this story - predictable but fun. I'll read, and I'll be looking forward to when the little man is big enough to read them. I can see a boy around 8-10 would really like these stories.

Kicking, Screaming, Yelling and More Kicking

We did it - we survived our first public tantrum.

Pants is figuring his voice out. Most of the time - this is hilarious and wonderful. He talks constantly, he tells stories and jokes, which of course we can't understand. We can tell the difference though, because he chuckles after he tells a joke. He says "please" and "puppy". 

Now other times - it is ear-splitting. He has this high pitched screech. He yells, he bosses. If he says "please" which sounds a whole lot like peas - and you do not immediately hand over whatever it is that he asked for - he screams at you. "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" he will say. Then he may add another "please" in there, you know, since he has your full undivided attention now. 

He is figuring out that his voice has power. He can make us do things - give him things. Pants is like any little tyrant though, and hates being told no. I don't like it either - but you don't see me screaming in the face of the lady at Sears because she won't let me have that boysenberry Kitchen-aide Mixer for 25 bucks. To be fair - I haven't tried it. I am pretty sure I am aware of the outcome there, though, 

This means that we are starting to throw fits now. Normally this is not a big deal, at home we can ignore the fit until he calms down. 

But when we are at a birthday party...

Hooo boy. 

Rolling around in the grass, kicking, screaming, yelling, more kicking. All the other parents watching. Holy shit that is embarrassing. We finally just scooped him up - stuck him in the car - and went home about an hour early. 

I got a glimpse of the future. It's a little scary. I see lots of leaving early in my future. 

Well, this sucks.

Warning - this is not a happy or funny post.

I was pregnant. For two days. And now I am not anymore.

TJ and I have been trying for another baby. Tuesday was my birthday and I thought it would be kind of neat if I found out that I was pregnant on my birthday. I took a test and I saw a line - it was soooo light that I was sure I was imagining it. So the next day I took a digital test - and sure enough - PREGNANT! We were thrilled.

And then today - I was feeling a little crampy - went to the bathroom - and blood. Lots of it. I am not pregnant. Anymore? After all? I don't even really know what to say there.

It is stupid. I should not be so sad. I should not be so upset. Technically this is the day that I was supposed to start my period. So if I wouldn't have taken a pregnancy test - I would have never known. It would have just been another month where we would say "Damn - better luck next month."

But I did take the test. For two days, I imagined another little Pants. I mentally moved furniture, decorated a nursery, wondered boy or girl, wondered how he was going to handle being a big brother, saw Pants and new baby playing together - basically all of the things that parents do when they know a baby is coming.

I'm sad. I'm really sad. I'm mad. I'm disappointed. I feel guilty - like I could have maybe done something different. I know, logically, that I wasn't truly pregnant. It is what they call a chemical pregnancy, where there probably was fertilization, but it never implanted and was never a truly viable pregnancy. I know it wasn't real. And I kind of wish that I would not have taken that test, and I would just be a little bummed.

I'll be fine. I am fine. Pants does a pretty good job at cheering me up - and gave me the sweetest little hug earlier.

Damn it. Better luck next month.

What the hell is wrong with my eggs?

I am not a religious person. 

At. All.

But I do have some nice Easter memories. My mom, my sister and I would sit any dye eggs for an afternoon. My mom is a KSU Wildcats freak, and she always wanted her purple egg to be pretty. She would stick her egg in the purple and leave it forever and ever. My sister and I were always to impatient and have really some pastel looking eggs at the end of the day. My mom would have a few vibrant, dark, just gorgeous eggs and Sister and I would solemnly vow that next year, we would be patient and have pretty eggs like Mom. Then we would repeat the process the next year. Good times. 

Well, I'm the mom now. So I decided to channel my mother and leave my eggs in for a long time and have all the pretty eggs. I carefully followed the instructions to make the dye - choosing vinegar since it promised the darkest eggs - and then carefully lowered my eggs in and let them sit forever. 

Holy crap. Am I ever disappointed. Here are my sad, sad eggs. 

What the hell man? I mean, the colors are ok - but they are splotchy with weird specks all over them. And the purple isn't even hardly purple - its blue and pink-ish. I was so sad! 

Ugly. 

I was actually kind of impressed that this one ended up look like a sun. It was absolutely not planned. 

I am not even sure how this is possible. Actually - yes I do. Aliens. The aliens did it. They are trying to tell me something. 

I called my mom to complain and ask her what the secret to the pretty eggs is. She told me that her eggs look like crap now, too. She says the dye is super cheap and they just look bad. 

Bummer. 

The Price of Being Honest

We took Pants to get his one year pictures taken a couple weeks ago (I know, I know, really late. Shut up.)

It was a very "eh" experience. The lady was pushy and odd - she talked a lot and seemed to have no sense of time. We were there for over two hours, which for a teeny man - is an eternity. Pants started in a sweater, t-shirt, jeans, socks, and dress shoes and ended up in just his jeans and t-shirt by the end of it. The people who were waiting for us to be finished acted like they wanted to kill us. We spent WAY too much money on the pictures - for a "package deal" of course. Saves money. Yeah.

The pictures turned out fantastic though, I have a cute freaking kid!

When we were getting ready to pay - we discovered the computers were down. We could not get my card to scan. The picture lady gave me the disc (with the rights to print) and asked me to come back and pay when my prints were delivered.

Well, she called and said my prints were in - and I ran right down to pick up my adorable pictures. Picture lady says "Oh my god, I am SO GLAD to see you. As soon as I let you out the doors with that disc I just knew I was never going to see you again. I am so relieved you came back. Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Then she talked my ear off for about half an hour while some poor pissed off baby and her increasingly pissed off parents waited for her to come back.

Then she gave me 50 bucks off and some extra prints! Woohoo! It pays to be honest!

Now - not to toot my own horn or anything, but I seriously, never for a moment, thought about not going back. It just was not something that I would have considered. Even if I wasn't crazy about the experience - I did get a service, she performed it, and I was going to pay for it. End of story.

As I left Sears, prints in hand, feeling really good about myself - I realized - that if I WOULD have been an asshole and just printed them off of my disc - I could have easily saved 100 bucks. Probably more. Damn. I would have hated myself every time I passed one of the pictures on my wall though. I supposed that is the price of being honest. (I'm kidding. I know it was the right thing - and I would do it again tomorrow if I had to.)

What I really want though is a really fancy new digital camera so that I don't have to pay other people to take these darn pictures. (Hey - husband. Take note. Five year anniversary this year. Just sayin. Love you.)

P.S - Its my birthday. I'm old.