My Fitness Pal, Finally.

OMG.  It has finally happened.  I am finally so sick of being fat that I am going to start counting calories with My Fitness Pal tomorrow.  That's the app Ben has used to lose 20+ pounds, and it tracks both my calories and my workouts-- the more I exercise, the more I can eat.  I have been avoiding counting my calories because I am breast feeding and fondly remembering back in the day when I was 28 breast feeding Harry and watching the pounds fall off even though I ate more nursing him than when I was pregnant with him.  But, alas, I am now 35 with the slow, grumpy metabolism to prove it.

So.  Weight loss.  I want to do it.  Maybe more than I want to eat my face off.  We shall see.

I gained 35 with Dorothy, but I was 15 pounds heavier than usual when I got pregnant (because I had a 9-month old when I got pregnant, and the pounds weren't pouring off nursing him, either).  I lost 20 pounds right away, but since then?  Nothing. Well, 2-3 pounds, I guess. (Although I am eating like CRAZY and not gaining weight, so the breast feeding must be doing something).

Anyway, what I am trying to say is I want to lose 27 pounds.

When I lose 27 pounds I am going to spend a disgusting amount of money on new clothes and coats.  Lululemon and Anthropologie are screaming my name. Eye on the prize, friends-- hoping it distracts me from the cookies.

Since I am starting tomorrow, tonight means spicy cheese dip and beer in front of Big Brother, natch.

How about a good old fashioned phone dump?  Because I have been working really hard on the online class I am developing (I am getting paid through January to develop that class instead of teaching, which is freaking fantastic for the nursing on demand but also a lot harder than teaching, but I can do it all from the comfort of my couch, but holy shit it's a ton of work).

She's so sweet and salmon colored

 Ants on a log blew Cooper's mind.  Best snack ever.  And yes, we keep our house so cold that he wears winter jammies.

 Moments after I took this picture, I was holding Dorothy on my lap, and she became a shit volcano.  All over herself (up to her head-- had to take a bath), all over the couch, all over me (had to take a shower).  I was so bummed that the big kids were gone because they would have been delighted.  As it was, Cooper couldn't even go get the wipes for me because the bathroom door was shut (never trust that baby man around an open bathroom).

 She hangs with me while I work on my online class.  I am like a 24/7 buffet.

 Harrison: always accessorized.  He is taking a learning with Legos class every morning at his school where it sounds like he and all his friends just build zombie movie sets.  Not sure about the learning part.

 Got sick of hearing Jack complain about riding his bike up hill on our walks, so we started pushing him in the stroller while I wear Dorothy.  Comically large, right?

 Jack is having his first drop-off playdate tomorrow, and he went shopping for lunch today.  Hot dogs, peppers, chicken noodle soup, and donuts.  Okay then.

 If she could talk, she would tell me that this is totally unsafe.

 Seriously.  Couldn't you just eat her up?

 She sort of looks like Popeye here.

 Twins!

 Took H and J to see this on Friday-- adorable all around.

 Pool time.  Of course.