Dude, Where's my wagon?

OK, so my attempt at referencing an Ashton Kutcher movie is pitiful, especially since I have never seen the movie, but it was too easy, so I had to. I have fallen so far off the dieting/exercise wagon, that I am not even sure where it is.

Last Monday I lost a pound, so a brief Yay for that :)  But at today's weigh-in, I gained a pound and a half, so Boo for that. Turns out I have lost my motivation, or so it seems.

As I was writing the previous blog, I really felt I was doing better, that things would be looking up. My eating habits were stellar. My exercise was not bad, not amazing, but easy to increase, right?

This past week, I have only exercised twice. I ran Wednesday, but it was a shorter run, only 25 minutes, not the usual 40. I was sure Saturday would be a turn-around, as my expert running cousin was in from out of town. I haven't seen her since I was probably 10, so I was doubly excited about this. Not only to learn tips and hints about running, but also to catch up on our lives. Although, I have to say the catching up might have been hard to do as I'm gasping for air during the run :)  However, I'm sad to say it rained. A lot. With lightning. And we all know, When thunder roars, stay indoors. So, no running outside. I did run on the treadmill, for about 30 minutes. And I did up my speed a little on the treadmill, so I felt good about that.
I did have one really good eating moment (I think). We went to my cousin's wedding and I refrained from eating food or cake, though I did drink a Pepsi... Bummer... I forgot about that. And party mints. The good part comes in a minute I guess.

So after the wedding, we went to see my aunt in the hospital, which was a great time as I haven't seen her in a while and she's so fun, and then we went to Tascalli's. I REALLY, and I mean REALLY wanted the cheese ravioli, which they serve half with marinara sauce and half with Alfredo sauce, and top it with mozzarella cheese. Delicious!! How could I turn that down? But I refrained. Instead, I chose the chicken with the sweet and tangy sauce (BTW, if any of you know the nutrition facts of this meal, I'm not sure I want to know. I'm afraid that I will find out it is worse for me than the ravioli...) along with mashed potatoes and wild rice. It was yummy and I felt good about the choice. (Actually, I only ate one of the chicken breasts and forgot that I brought the other one home, so yay me... lunch tomorrow! :)

Sunday, however was a different story. It was Easter. We went to Shawn's mom's for dinner after church. I fixed a few things to take there and couldn't make myself stay away from the bad things. Macaroni and cheese (which you might think isn't the traditional Easter dinner, but it's kind of like bread for us - perfect with any meal :)  and ham and a piece of chocolate pie. My stomach is growling right now...

And now for today... I took Noah to the orthodontist this morning. His braces were supposed to be removed. Yay, right? It should be a happy occasion!

The appointment was at 8:30 a.m. We were a couple of minutes late and Noah went back after a few minutes. I settled into a good book, waiting on things to happen back there. I really had no idea how much time I expected it to take. I've never had braces, so this is all new to me. Noah hadn't been back there long, when his orthodontic (assistant? hygienist? not sure what the right term is, but I will go with assistant) comes to get me. She said "We need you." Yikes. I go back and Noah is completely freaked out. Crying. She said, "He doesn't want to get the retainer." I don't know why it didn't occur to me that he would have to get a mold made to form the retainer. The mold had seriously traumatizd him from the initial braces.

I tried to give him the pep talk. Noah, it's going to be fine. You're brave. You can do this. It's going to be okay. I'll be right here... blah, blah, blah. That's what he heard. So he says, "No! I'm not doing it!!" My perfectly obedient child goes through some sort of metamorphasis of evil when the pink goo for the mold comes out. The assistant and orthodontist both seem pretty frustrated, as this is not a quick process. She would try to put the tray in his mouth, he would clamp his lips shut tighter than my size 8 jeans. When it was finally wedged in there, the gagging would commence...

This went on for what seemed like decades of my life, until the orthodontist stepped in and said he would try it. He said the mouth trays were too large for Noah's tiny mouth, so he whittled some down smaller and Noah tried it, unhappily, but without gagging. So he rushes over to the sink to mix the goo to put in the tray that will soon be placed in Noah's cute perfectly straight-toothed mouth. Only Noah is wiping his tears and his nose when the orthodontist comes over to quickly put it in (apparently this stuff has a short window before it becomes cement). The orthodontist, understandably frustrated, says we're probably going to have to come back another day. He comes back a minute later and says Noah and I can go into another room to talk. So I go back to the room. I'm torn between threatening grounding for eternity and bribing him with, well, anything he wants. I didn't. Seeing him in tears brings me to tears, but I try to control it. We're in public after all, and there are probably 15 other patients and parents in the same room as Noah getting their own teeth tightened and gooed.

He  finally feels like he can do it, so we go back out. The job gets done, even though he still gagged during a lot of the process, but it is over. We left to get a drink and a snack and had to come back 30 minutes later to get the retainer. He was a super happy and relieved kid when it was over. I, on the other hand, remained stressed for a while, and took him to lunch at McDonald's before taking him back to school (we were at the orthodontist so long, his lunch time at school was already over). I ordered a 10-piece McNugget meal, with fries. Fries and deep-fried chicken parts! What was I thinking?  It was like some sort of natural reaction. Like something just took over.

Not proud of that. And not that it's an excuse, but at least it explains it.

So, here's hoping for a better week. A week of more exercising and fewer McNuggets. And hopefully a week of more pounds lost, as well as a new desire to find my wagon.