Monday weight: 253.4
The movie French Kiss is a guilty pleasure of mine. There’s a moment when the heroine is telling her ex-fiance not to feel guilty about what he did to her and she stops and tells him to go ahead and feel guilty. “Swim in it ’til your fingers get all pruney.”
This week has been a crazy one in Quirkyland. On Monday, Zoo Keeper had his school award ceremony and was called an animal expert by his teachers. We all think that’s pretty cool. And true. Sparky took him to his school’s field day on Tuesday and then school was out for him.
BamBam’s afternoon class has been out for a couple of weeks, but the morning class lasted until this week. They had a class party/concert for the last day of school on Tuesday. He practiced hard and knew all the songs and moves, but I only know that because he sings and dances when we watch the video at home. During the actual concert, he was way overstimulated by all the extra people and the heat of the room. So he didn’t participate much. Here, I’ll show you:
I am a Pizza 2012 *(I apologize to those of you without QuickTime, but this was the only way I could get the video small enough for WordPress to let me post it.)
Yes, that’s me sitting behind him. He entered the room crying and had just submitted to sitting in a chair when he spotted me and lost it all over again. He ran to me and refused to rejoin his class until his teacher asked if he wanted me to go with him. He did, so I did. For all the parents who now have me on their kid’s video: You’re welcome.
He did end up participating a little, especially on the pirate song. When she asks for rhymes for numbers, he just shouts the number back at her until she acknowledges him. Yes, BamBam, five does rhyme with five. That’s the wonderful, fabulous, amazing, best-special-ed-teacher-in-the-multiverse he’s shouting at, by the way. Oh, wait, I forgot to show it to you. Here it is:
The reason everybody laughed when they’re rhyming four and one of the kids said, “Nor,” is because that’s the name of one of the girls in the class. And, yep, on ten the little girl in the back said she pooped. It was pretty funny, even to me, and I was having a rough time with my boy. He really did not want to be there and I can’t blame him. He didn’t understand what all those people were doing there or why they were staring at him. I think his teacher had tried to explain it, but his receptive language just isn’t that sophisticated yet. He didn’t get it. And it was hot in there with all those bodies. And it was a change in routine. He doesn’t like those. Not one little bit.
On a side note, BamBam’s expressive speech is really coming along. He talks all the time, though we still don’t understand most of what he says, which is frustrating for all of us. He’s pretty patient with me, though. At least for the moment. It took me forever to figure out what he was saying when he would do humpty dumpty. Or that “schwimpy fush” means slippery fish, which is a song they sing at school. And I only really got that because Zoo Keeper’s school sang the same song a couple of years ago, so I knew the words. Unfortunately, it was pretty easy to get the new phrase he uses when he’s hungry: “Chicken stwip backet wiff gwaby?” I don’t know where he learned that. Honest.
Anyway, when BamBam and I met Sparky and Zoo Keeper at home and then Sparky left for work, the reality of summer set in. I’m home with these guys for two months with a schedule that changes every week. There’s no set routine. The boys are in some camps, but they are at opposite times, leaving me with next to no downtime this summer. And these guys are…high maintenance.
What I’m trying to say is that I realized in that moment how much this week was going to suck. Not that I didn’t already know it, I am the one who manages the schedule after all, but at that point I could feel it in my bones. And I’d started back on the Program diet that morning. The first week on the program is the hardest because your body goes through a kind of withdrawal and you feel like complete crap. Major headaches and grumpiness. Great.
I had pretty much decided to postpone the diet (again) until next week. So, I was standing in my kitchen trying to figure out what kind of pizza to order when I just stopped. I thought about how hard the diet would be and how hard the non-routine quirky-boy time would be and I decided to just throw myself in the deep end. Swim in it ’til my fingers got all pruney.
They’re pretty pruney, but I’m still standing. And it’s Friday. And I’ve lost six pounds. With no exercise. Because, no, I did not add that in this week. I’m not a complete lunatic. Please don’t disabuse me of that notion.
So next week I’m starting back to the gym. Wish me luck.
P.S. I’m getting kind of an angry vibe off of Sparky, who just walked in and realized I still haven’t unloaded the dishwasher yet, so I’m off to help. Cheers!