Alright, here's the Delio--i have decided to do a cleanse.
Ugh. I know.
The idea was so beautiful as i listened to my brother talk about thefood and the benefits and i just got hooked.
I trusted him--even though he had not yet done it--and i jumped on board.
I went to Walmart and the Co-op in Cambridge to get all my "goods" (after lunch today, i use that word lightly)
Of course, like usual, i tried to rope my friends into it as well.
A few were in a few were out.
Since we discovered that fennel is elusive, we decided to wait a few day to gather all the right ingredients and then we were going to get this party--this throw up in your mouth party--started.
For the love of our kidneys, liver and colon.
Well, after texting back and forth with Gwennie yesterday and sending pictures of mammoth cabbages and fennel ,we decided--reluctantly--(more like Lynn demanded and i followed since it was my lame idea) to start today. Thursday.
And it really is a joy.
Oops, did i say joy--i meant i want to stab myself--repeatedly--in the eyeballs with a stick...an ooey, gooey frosting covered stick.....
Mmmmmm, frosting.....
You can feel free to join me or copy me. I mean its just a barrel of fun, sister. A monkey-filled, violent barrel of torturous fun.... I mean fun--its really fun.
This cleanse isn't like the other cayenne pepper and lemon water cleanses where you drink till you want to gag and then poop your pants. This is one that has specific foods put together for each meal that will help to get your insides functioning at their optimal performance.(not that i ever thought they weren't, i guess) So at least i get to eat....but i would almost rather not.
So this morning for breakfast i made quinoa and put some rice milk and chopped up prunes into it with a bit of grated ginger and nutmeg. I KNOW--your taste buds are just a tingling at the sound of this. Mmmmmm.
Okay. Here's the thing. I hate OATMEAL. i want to eat if for breakfast, but it brings me back to when i was a kid and my parents would make me sit at the table until it finished my bowl and i hated it then and i hate it now. I didn't have oatmeal for breakfast today, i had quinoa. But its like they were trying to trick you into thinking it was like oatmeal and that it was a normal thing to have at 8:00am.
And i love quinoa. Or i did. Until i tainted it with ginger and PRUNES!! Gak. Throw up in my mouth.
I found myself longing for some mushy oatmeal and a handful of brown sugar....Delicious brown sugar.
But i gagged it down--like a trooper.
So with that behind me, i felt accomplished today. I knew i was headed to Lynn's to get my fennel and that would take until lunch time, right? Totes. This is going to be cake. One meal down--seven gazillion more to go.
I found myself looking a the clock at around 9:00 wondering if this was possibly the longest day int the history of the world. (And i still stand by that comment). I'm gonna look it up. I am certain time has actually stopped and begun to go backwards.
So from 9:37 to 9:50 i was in the car and my thought process was something like this.
"I can DO this. I got this. Its just food. And its just two days....two days! Like, no biggie. Who cares.
Not me. Cause i am a lean mean quinoa and prune eating machine. Whatever, i gots this.....
(a few silent moments go by)
...what is food anyways? What is life? Who am I? Can i be me if i just eat quinoa and prunes? How do you host a party with the snack being a watered down juice mix? Do people like cabbage and fennel broth? Who likes broth. Oh my gosh, i think i am dying.....what if there is no more good food by Saturday and i have missed it all? What if when i can finally enjoy food again, it has disappeared from the earth?! What if i HAD to eat this for the rest of my life.? Is death an option? Oh Death, i welcome you.
(...5 seconds of panic go by)
Ohhh, McDonalds. I NEED that. I NEED a coffee. Now. That's right. I'm not run by anybody! I do what i choose, when i choose it! I am in control of my life. Not you Dr. Oz! Not YOU!!!! (insert hand to fist and tear down cheek as i drive by McDonalds)
...you would have failed if you ordered that sugary drink, Christina. Failed like you do at every thing else in life. You're going cra-cra, stop obsessing with food. Its just food. Delicious, glorious, and wonderful food. Two days....just do it--ya big fat quinoa eating baby. Eat it!!
(insert all of lifes questions placed directly onto my weak, weak, food deprived brain)
Thank you Jesus, I've arrived at Lynns.
Misery loves company. (and cake. Misery definitely loves cake.....and frosting....oh, and cupcakes.....and oreos. I bet misery definitely loves those things.)
I got my stuff and we chatted trying to encourage and complain all at thee same time. Lynn actually had to remove a pancake crumb from the table for the love of our sanity. The temptation was there, i'm not gonna lie. If only i had seen it before lynn. (insert fist--again)
So i packed up my sauerkraut (you know, for a snack) and my beans and my fennel and my dandelion tea and headed out the door. We waved good bye and the three hours of discipline that i had experienced this day had took its tole and a headache (cause i am a baby) set in.
Realizing i forgot my apples and that i had to get a few human things for the kids for dinner, i stopped at Target--after being crabby with my hubby on the phone because HE implied sauerkraut and quinoa and prunes were gross-- how dare he?!--only to find that i forgot my purse at HOME!!!! Ugh.
Thank the Lord. Jeromy was done early and close to Blaine so we agreed to meet there and he would foot the bill--cause he's a gentleman like that.
Deal.
Blaine Target came into view and my kids commented on the delicious smell of the Chilli's, Leann Chin, and all other things fried and untouchable.
I kid you not. I have never felt the need for some substance in my life. Shopping while starving and restricted was equivalent to bamboo shoots under my nails! BAMBOO SHOOTS!!. Please Jesus, just let some sugary or starchy substance fall from the sky and land in my mouth. I would have no control over that. It wouldn't be cheating...it would be an accident!!
Well, as my luck would have it, no delicious treats fell from the sky and into my mouth.
Of COURSE.(insert fist)
But i did run into my mother. And that was fun. Until she pulled out a dollar bill for each of the kids to get a little treat and handed me a $5 bill to "get a special coffee treat"....
"Moooo-ooooom!! I told you i was doing this thiiiii-ng"
That is the moment when the lights went out and my knees weakened.
I CAN'T HAVE A COFFEE!!!
Waaaaaa!!
Jeromy had a twinkle in his eye thee whole time we were a the store as i suffered through my grocery shopping experience. And i had daggers in mine.
I was starving. But i knew i would get a smoothie for lunch and that had to be delicious, right?
Right.
No, WRONG. Of course its wrong. Its always wrong. Dr. Oz is a member of Satan's army and he wants me dead---dead i tell you!!!
So after i blended up my pitiful 1/4 cup of blueberries and 1/4 banana and some almond milk (barf central) flax seed and ice...i am now chocking down the worst. smoothie. ever.
It doesn't even qualify as a smoothie. That was just a mean, mean trick. Its a grainy, beautifully colored, almond tasting puke fest that i want no part of.
But since, like an a-wad, i invited a friend to join me in this gauntlet of horror--i have to keep drinking and continue on down this road of rage and a slight headache.
All things a good ol' coffee and cupcake would fix.
But alas, when i finally get to eat fluffy goodness again--it will be extinct and i will then die.
So peace out, my friends.
This could be my last blog entry soooooo, you're gonna want to print and frame this one....
Here lies Christina Boone--she died with perfectly clean and an optimally functioning kidney, liver and colon.
Thursday, August 15, 2013
Tuesday, August 13, 2013
My boy's growing up
This morning it happened.....
I realized how big my kids are getting--and it made me sad.
Junior came out of his room today, as the sun was shining in through my window, and i watched, as he crossed the hall to the bathroom and i waited, for him to come to my bed.
And that's when i realized it, that i can't remember the last time my guy came into my room in the morning to snuggle. He had done it for 4 years and slowly, it became less and less, and then suddenly i realized that it has stopped.
So as i waited there for him to peek his head into my room i felt lonesome. I miss my guy.
Just as i had hoped, he peeked his head around the door just to check if i was in there and i gave him the wave. The -get your cute little behind in here and snuggle me- wave. And he came running over.
I threw back the covers and made a spot for him next to me and we instinctively took our positions. As close as we could get, i laid on my side and he threw his legs over mine and set his cheek next to my cheek and his hand quickly found my neck and we just laid there.
Not talking.
Not monkeying around.
Just both content and looking up at the ceiling.
The sun shone beautifully through the window as i heard the rooster crow from outside.
Its a good feeling to feel full. And that is how i felt. Full of love. And thankfulness for my kids.
I realized that after 8 years of being what my brother called a "raccoon family" --because we were always piled up together and always touching or rocking or snuggling or sitting on top of each other--that my littlest raccoon was finally getting big. Moving out--slowly--from the nest, and the protection of my warm embrace.
And its like at that very moment, i felt the tide change. A moment in life was passing and a new one was arriving.
Toddlerhood was lost. Soon my boy would be in school and everything would be new.
Oh how i don't love change.
So this morning as i snuggled the cuttest butt in the history of the world and as we practiced counting by giving each other 100 kisses, i was painfully aware of time. And the moments that are lost each day. And how i want to squeeze my babies and keep them little forever.
As the cool breeze woke us up this morning, things were changing...and i don't know how i feel about that...
I realized how big my kids are getting--and it made me sad.
Junior came out of his room today, as the sun was shining in through my window, and i watched, as he crossed the hall to the bathroom and i waited, for him to come to my bed.
And that's when i realized it, that i can't remember the last time my guy came into my room in the morning to snuggle. He had done it for 4 years and slowly, it became less and less, and then suddenly i realized that it has stopped.
So as i waited there for him to peek his head into my room i felt lonesome. I miss my guy.
Just as i had hoped, he peeked his head around the door just to check if i was in there and i gave him the wave. The -get your cute little behind in here and snuggle me- wave. And he came running over.
I threw back the covers and made a spot for him next to me and we instinctively took our positions. As close as we could get, i laid on my side and he threw his legs over mine and set his cheek next to my cheek and his hand quickly found my neck and we just laid there.
Not talking.
Not monkeying around.
Just both content and looking up at the ceiling.
The sun shone beautifully through the window as i heard the rooster crow from outside.
Its a good feeling to feel full. And that is how i felt. Full of love. And thankfulness for my kids.
I realized that after 8 years of being what my brother called a "raccoon family" --because we were always piled up together and always touching or rocking or snuggling or sitting on top of each other--that my littlest raccoon was finally getting big. Moving out--slowly--from the nest, and the protection of my warm embrace.
And its like at that very moment, i felt the tide change. A moment in life was passing and a new one was arriving.
Toddlerhood was lost. Soon my boy would be in school and everything would be new.
Oh how i don't love change.
So this morning as i snuggled the cuttest butt in the history of the world and as we practiced counting by giving each other 100 kisses, i was painfully aware of time. And the moments that are lost each day. And how i want to squeeze my babies and keep them little forever.
Saturday, July 27, 2013
The anticipation of 32
Well, Good Morning, everyone!!
After an hour in the garden pulling weeds on this fine Saturday morning, i finally feel like i have processed turning 32 tomorrow.
And here's what i have thunked.
It started two weeks back, as i anticipated the ol' birthday. Which i truly love. Birthdays are the best and Jeromy lets me celebrate for like the whole week.
No matter what the plans turn out to be, i just look at him and say "but its for my birthday!?" And i am always able to wander free for about a week.
But this year, i feared something different.
Like I said, it started two weeks ago--when i was asked by my friend to sub on her co-ed ball team.
Of course i would. Its what i do.
Until i realized on my way to the fields in Anoka, that my stomach was nervous. Like really nervous. Gurggly and all twisted up in knots.
Of course i arrived about 30 minutes early so that i could sit and anticipate my fate.
As i sat there, in my minivan watching players start to sprinkle in to the fields, i felt sick.
Like what a baby? Right?
I'm a ball player. If nothing else. I fell 110% confident with a ball coming directly at me at high speeds....but not this night.
This night i felt like a Mom. An old, scared, and timid Mom....in my minivan.
I crossed my leg over my lap and dissected everyone around me. I looked to the vehicle next to me and saw another girl waiting to head out. I gave her the courtesy nod and half smile and then looked the other direction.
Then i saw a big guy walking to the field with a kid. Good, i thought. Another old timer.
But as i looked closer, i realized that that was in fact, his teeny tiny childlike girlfriend.
Ugh.
So i sat there, trying to talk myself up. Remind myself of how much i love the thrill of the lights, the sounds, the speed and the crack of the bat.
And then it happened.
I uncrossed that leg of mine.That long, giraffe like limb that follows me around....
...and my foot.....
....accidentally....
....HONKED THE HORN!!!
I honked the horn with my leg .....and just about pooped my pants.
My eyes darted around to meet every other eye...staring at me.....
wondering if i honked cause i needed something....
Oh, my gosh. Kill me now.
But with my cat like instincts, i pulled the best Cameron Diaz that i could and threw my arms up in the air shaking my head and smiling.....Like "Whaaaaaat just happened, hip young cool kids who drink alot an look angry?!?! What the what?? Right....Oh, we're all just silly--aren't we."
I think it worked.
Besides the small amount of pee that was in my pants....i was cool....i was gonna make it through this....
My friend soon arrived. But by then i had already counted myself out. Assumed the position of girl who takes a rocket of a shot to the face, and headed to get my cleats on.
The game went fine. The team was great. I played like a 3rd grader. Disappointed with my batting (and my dead bat.) But I survived.
And ya know what? They asked me back for the next few weeks.(i'm going to pretend that i didn't know they were hard pressed for girl players)
I continued to tell my friend that i was just feeling really old, as we walked to the car. And finally she looked at me and said, "these people are all your age if not older."
And there ya have it.
It wasn't that i was old. It was that i was frail. Cautious. Aware. I was a mother.
That's what it all boiled down to. My kids had softened me. And my girl league wasn't challenging enough to keep me fresh.
The whole ride home i thought about my glory days. When Jeromy and I played softball together. Its a good memory for us. Its how me met after all.
I will forever love being under the night lights, on a field, with a glove and a bat. Simply because the memories are the greatest.
When i arrived home i was determined that if i was gong to play co-ed ball, that we were going to get the ol' team back together, no matter how old they were, and we were going to have one last glory season....
Jeromy agreed.
But i don't think it will happen....cause we are, after all, old.
The week went by as i anticipated 32. I went from joyful to grumpy. Telling my brother over the phone that "sometimes its like i'm the only person who likes to get together with everyone. Like its just a check off the ol' list, a mark on the calendar--for everyone else. You think this joyful personality comes naturally? Cause i work at it. I socially work at life. And no one else does. And i'm sick of it. I'm done.."
And i was certain that i would not call anyone for --at least--one whole day.
And i stewed and i sulked and i complained.
It was a buggar of a few days.
OKAY?
Doesn't anyone else every feel like that? Or are you all so content, so sure of yourself that you never second guess?
Don't even answer that...
I don't want to know.
Anywho, i talked to my brother a few days ago and we chatted and all was well, of course. Cause never, in a million years, would i be mad at him. I complain to him, sure. But never would i be mad.
And he told me. "Ya just got to make it through it. Sure, theres a few days where you dread it and mop, but then its like new years and time to start fresh". He went on to tell me how he had a renewed spirit after his birthday last week and that he had done some construction at his house, that sucked, but that felt good when he looked at the finished project. He felt rewarded and renewed--and i would too.
And i know, i get that. I mean, i am the New Year's Eve freak that insists on resolutions and loves to make plans to be better.
And normally i do for birthdays too....
But something was holding me back this year.
Age. I just don't like it. It really is hard on me. I think alot and as i progress in years...i wonder if i have done enough or if anything has even mattered.
Have i waisted my precious time? I don't know. I just never can know.
So, last night. I went to play co-ed ball again.
And this time, i was determined to be myself. Have fun. Talk alot. Dig in. Cause if i was going to go down swinging, you bet your behind, i was going to go down swinging hard.
My first hit was a hard one. BUT it was caught.
But, seeing as how my wonderful hubby got me a new bat for my birthday, i felt hopeful.
Cause its a nice bat. And i love it! (thank you my love, for knowing me so well....i loooooove it! It wields power, i'm sure of it)
"Next shot", Kandi said "if you can pull the ball, hit it in right cause their left side is strong," To which i replied.
" I can pull it."
And it was on. That is all it took. Direction. I needed to be told what to do, so i could make it happen. That's how i work.
Everything else went out the window. I didn't care. I was aiming to pull it right.
Boom. First pitch. Smack down the RC field. And i was on. Moving and feeling good. It felt good. Its what i needed.
So i kept at it, every time i batted. And ya know what?
The next game i went from the new girl at the bottom of the order to the third batter.
Nice.
That's all i needed. I needed to remember what i love.
I love ball.
I dont' care where i am playing. Who i am playing with. Or what field i'm on.
I love it. I needed it.
Jeromy and i will soon be members of that team this fall. (or specifically the email my friend got last night "Hey, can you ask your friend with the sweatshirt if her and her husband will play Fall ball with us?")
Yes!! Girl in the sweatshirt. I'll take that!!
And i think i'm gonna like it.
So today after i reclaimed my joy. I woke up and headed out the the garden with my boy and started weeding....in that sweatshirt.
And ya know what i realized?
Its gonna be a good year.
Because i am going to make it one. I am going to be joyful always, pray continually and give thanks in all circumstances. (and always swing for the fences.....amiright?!!)
My new birthday year resolution are yet to come...but for now, I have to go make pancakes for some hungry kids--cause i'm a Mom. And that what i do.
After an hour in the garden pulling weeds on this fine Saturday morning, i finally feel like i have processed turning 32 tomorrow.
And here's what i have thunked.
It started two weeks back, as i anticipated the ol' birthday. Which i truly love. Birthdays are the best and Jeromy lets me celebrate for like the whole week.
No matter what the plans turn out to be, i just look at him and say "but its for my birthday!?" And i am always able to wander free for about a week.
But this year, i feared something different.
Like I said, it started two weeks ago--when i was asked by my friend to sub on her co-ed ball team.
Of course i would. Its what i do.
Until i realized on my way to the fields in Anoka, that my stomach was nervous. Like really nervous. Gurggly and all twisted up in knots.
Of course i arrived about 30 minutes early so that i could sit and anticipate my fate.
As i sat there, in my minivan watching players start to sprinkle in to the fields, i felt sick.
Like what a baby? Right?
I'm a ball player. If nothing else. I fell 110% confident with a ball coming directly at me at high speeds....but not this night.
This night i felt like a Mom. An old, scared, and timid Mom....in my minivan.
I crossed my leg over my lap and dissected everyone around me. I looked to the vehicle next to me and saw another girl waiting to head out. I gave her the courtesy nod and half smile and then looked the other direction.
Then i saw a big guy walking to the field with a kid. Good, i thought. Another old timer.
But as i looked closer, i realized that that was in fact, his teeny tiny childlike girlfriend.
Ugh.
So i sat there, trying to talk myself up. Remind myself of how much i love the thrill of the lights, the sounds, the speed and the crack of the bat.
And then it happened.
I uncrossed that leg of mine.That long, giraffe like limb that follows me around....
...and my foot.....
....accidentally....
....HONKED THE HORN!!!
I honked the horn with my leg .....and just about pooped my pants.
My eyes darted around to meet every other eye...staring at me.....
wondering if i honked cause i needed something....
Oh, my gosh. Kill me now.
But with my cat like instincts, i pulled the best Cameron Diaz that i could and threw my arms up in the air shaking my head and smiling.....Like "Whaaaaaat just happened, hip young cool kids who drink alot an look angry?!?! What the what?? Right....Oh, we're all just silly--aren't we."
I think it worked.
Besides the small amount of pee that was in my pants....i was cool....i was gonna make it through this....
My friend soon arrived. But by then i had already counted myself out. Assumed the position of girl who takes a rocket of a shot to the face, and headed to get my cleats on.
The game went fine. The team was great. I played like a 3rd grader. Disappointed with my batting (and my dead bat.) But I survived.
And ya know what? They asked me back for the next few weeks.(i'm going to pretend that i didn't know they were hard pressed for girl players)
I continued to tell my friend that i was just feeling really old, as we walked to the car. And finally she looked at me and said, "these people are all your age if not older."
And there ya have it.
It wasn't that i was old. It was that i was frail. Cautious. Aware. I was a mother.
That's what it all boiled down to. My kids had softened me. And my girl league wasn't challenging enough to keep me fresh.
The whole ride home i thought about my glory days. When Jeromy and I played softball together. Its a good memory for us. Its how me met after all.
I will forever love being under the night lights, on a field, with a glove and a bat. Simply because the memories are the greatest.
When i arrived home i was determined that if i was gong to play co-ed ball, that we were going to get the ol' team back together, no matter how old they were, and we were going to have one last glory season....
Jeromy agreed.
But i don't think it will happen....cause we are, after all, old.
The week went by as i anticipated 32. I went from joyful to grumpy. Telling my brother over the phone that "sometimes its like i'm the only person who likes to get together with everyone. Like its just a check off the ol' list, a mark on the calendar--for everyone else. You think this joyful personality comes naturally? Cause i work at it. I socially work at life. And no one else does. And i'm sick of it. I'm done.."
And i was certain that i would not call anyone for --at least--one whole day.
And i stewed and i sulked and i complained.
It was a buggar of a few days.
OKAY?
Doesn't anyone else every feel like that? Or are you all so content, so sure of yourself that you never second guess?
Don't even answer that...
I don't want to know.
Anywho, i talked to my brother a few days ago and we chatted and all was well, of course. Cause never, in a million years, would i be mad at him. I complain to him, sure. But never would i be mad.
And he told me. "Ya just got to make it through it. Sure, theres a few days where you dread it and mop, but then its like new years and time to start fresh". He went on to tell me how he had a renewed spirit after his birthday last week and that he had done some construction at his house, that sucked, but that felt good when he looked at the finished project. He felt rewarded and renewed--and i would too.
And i know, i get that. I mean, i am the New Year's Eve freak that insists on resolutions and loves to make plans to be better.
And normally i do for birthdays too....
But something was holding me back this year.
Age. I just don't like it. It really is hard on me. I think alot and as i progress in years...i wonder if i have done enough or if anything has even mattered.
Have i waisted my precious time? I don't know. I just never can know.
So, last night. I went to play co-ed ball again.
And this time, i was determined to be myself. Have fun. Talk alot. Dig in. Cause if i was going to go down swinging, you bet your behind, i was going to go down swinging hard.
My first hit was a hard one. BUT it was caught.
But, seeing as how my wonderful hubby got me a new bat for my birthday, i felt hopeful.
Cause its a nice bat. And i love it! (thank you my love, for knowing me so well....i loooooove it! It wields power, i'm sure of it)
"Next shot", Kandi said "if you can pull the ball, hit it in right cause their left side is strong," To which i replied.
" I can pull it."
And it was on. That is all it took. Direction. I needed to be told what to do, so i could make it happen. That's how i work.
Everything else went out the window. I didn't care. I was aiming to pull it right.
Boom. First pitch. Smack down the RC field. And i was on. Moving and feeling good. It felt good. Its what i needed.
So i kept at it, every time i batted. And ya know what?
The next game i went from the new girl at the bottom of the order to the third batter.
Nice.
That's all i needed. I needed to remember what i love.
I love ball.
I dont' care where i am playing. Who i am playing with. Or what field i'm on.
I love it. I needed it.
Jeromy and i will soon be members of that team this fall. (or specifically the email my friend got last night "Hey, can you ask your friend with the sweatshirt if her and her husband will play Fall ball with us?")
Yes!! Girl in the sweatshirt. I'll take that!!
And i think i'm gonna like it.
So today after i reclaimed my joy. I woke up and headed out the the garden with my boy and started weeding....in that sweatshirt.
And ya know what i realized?
Its gonna be a good year.
Because i am going to make it one. I am going to be joyful always, pray continually and give thanks in all circumstances. (and always swing for the fences.....amiright?!!)
My new birthday year resolution are yet to come...but for now, I have to go make pancakes for some hungry kids--cause i'm a Mom. And that what i do.
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