Last Sunday I joined my cousin in doing the Fat Flush diet-- partly out of solidarity, because she wasn't ennjoying it much and partly because I need to lose this baby weight, and heck, I'm game for a new diet.
It was pretty UN-fun the first few days, but once I got into the swing of it, it's been fine. I actually really like the cran-water regimen, but I put stevia in it to make it taste better. I think it has helped to keep my blood sugar in check. The scale has only changed by a pound and a half, but my clothes tell a different story- I'm down one full pants size after a week. That's refreshing. I'm also really glad I went to the state fair last wekend and PIGGED out on all my favorite fair foods, because now I don't feel like I'm missing out on anything.
This weekend, the fall colors are really getting turned up. I love this time of year- it is my absolute favorite season in North Carolina. Out my back window there's a riot of orange, red, pink, yellow, purple and green. Flowers could never compete just for the sheer visual real-estate those colorful leaves occupy! The weather is nice and cool, too, which makes me more inclined to play outside with the kids. THis morning, e-baby and I practiced riding her pedal bike She still has a long way to go, but there's a mtivating factor-- if she learns to ride it by Christmas, then she can ask Santa Claus for a pink-and-purple princess pedal-bike. Yes, I know, I am the LAST person you'd figure would have a princess for a kid, but there it is. Evidence of the inevitability of princess-infusion. It's OK, she can be a princess and still win the Nobel in Chemistry someday.
Jambuca really wants to walk, really wants to talk, but hasn't got the hang of either. He will be walking soon, but the talking? He does a lot of rhythmic LALALA! but so far, no hard consonants. He did sign "Milk" a few weeks ago, which was cool. He also recognizes a few other signs but I think he'll probably talk on a more "normal" schedule than his sister did. He can pretty much get whatever he wants by smiling at people. Which is just fine with me. My dad calls him Cheerful Charlie, and he really is just that.
SNG is not faring as well as the rest of us. This terrible cough he has is turning into a bear. He seems to have torn a muscle in his ribcage, making it painful to laugh, cough or sneeze. I am trying to make him go to the doctor, but he isn't having it. If he's not better by Wednesday, he'll go.
And me? I feel fabulous. Just getting over another cold, lost my voice, but HEY! I lost a pants size! Nothing's gonna get me down.