16 in 90. because mama needs new threads.

Yesterday, I declared that -- between September 1 and November 30 -- I, Nenette, will lose 16 pounds. At least. Maybe more. Because I want to be able to kick Jillian's ass for a change.

Oh, no, sweeties, this isn't just an empty declaration, or a repeat of the old ways. I actually put money on it. I made a FatBet!

My primal sistah AndreAnna dared us, her girlfriends, to reach our get-hot-n-healthy goals in 90 days.
Oh, yeah. She was all "Come on, Bitches!!! Get with this thing! YOU. CAN. DO. IT!!!" Then she threatened to come to our houses and rip our heads off if we didn't join! I know! I was all scared and stuff! So, I joined because, dang, Iowa and Manitoba? Practically neighbours, people! Okay, not really, but I'm not risking a head ripping!

Seriously though, AndreAnna serendipitously gave me the plan I really need right now. Evil sweet-n-carby treats invade my home and set up camp this time of year, so I can use any support/asskicking I can get!

.: Goal!
My goal is to lose 16 pounds by Day 90, which is about 5 pounds per month. I can do that reasonably without looking like Skeletor in the end.

.: Accept the challenge.
Okay, this was probably the toughest part for me. Because it means -- gasp! -- a commitment! But I did it, and joined a great bunch of chikas.

.: Put my money where my mouth is.
Every participant puts $50US into the pot, and everyone who hits goal by Day 90 shares the pot. Now this part was surprisingly easy. Until I got to the exchange rate. Because, yo, I'm in Canada, and 50US is like 5 bajillion dollars Canadian!!!
Then, I figured, when I reach goal, the exchange will work in my favour! Besides, I'm going to earn it. Whoo-chow!!!

.: Report periodically.
We use FatBet and Flickr to update the rest of the group of our progress.

.: Reap the Rewards.
Or at least avoid pain. Pain is a great motivator. In this case, it's the pain of being out $50US and being forced to wear an "awful holiday sweater out to dinner or a party - something public". Which will be even harder because I don't even own one! Gah!

Anyway, I'm jazzed to see my transformation. And yeah, I'll be taking you along for the ride. Wish me luck!

how to avoid getting hit by lightning.

It's like clockwork. Around these parts, when you get 2-3 days of super hot weather, you're pretty much guaranteed to get a couple of super rainy weather very soon after.

Yesterday, we even got lightning and thunder! It was scary, yo. Getting hit by lightning is one of my BIG fears, but I had to face it to go out to see my chiropractor for my adjustment.

Luckily, I went online and got some awesome advice on how to not get hit, and what to do if I do get zapped. You gotta love the internets...

A Note to Pre-Baby Me

Originally published on CanadaMomsBlog.com on September 21, 2009, this post is probably my favourite 'mommy' piece I've ever written. It became my second article with Canada Moms chosen for syndication. I'm moving it here with permission as part of the SVMoms Group shutdown. It struck a note with many moms, and I wish I could also move their lovely comments here too. Enjoy...

~@~

Sometimes, I wish I were you. Yes, you. Over there. My younger, pre-child self. The one not covered in spilled apple juice, hot chocolate, or dish soap. The one not still in glasses and pajamas at 1 in the afternoon. The one who didn't have to stop yet another fight between her son and daughter over who should move further down the couch, who touched who, who should clean up the mess, or who farted without apologizing.

I'm talking to you, who didn't have to search for a pair of "non-holey, non-painty" jeans for the 7-year-old 15 minutes before bedtime because he refused to get into his pajamas until the last possible minute. Nor did you have to watch the 5-year-old's daredevil dance performance where she unexpectedly catapults herself off the couch to narrowly miss all the pointy toys strewn all over the floor.

You didn't have to take the stove apart and fish around the corner underneath where the mouse lived last year before the cat killed it for the Bakugan brawler that rolled under there -- you know, the brawler your little weeping boy had his heart set on bringing to school for Show & Tell that day.

No one knocked furiously on your door the last time you went to the bathroom only to let you know they could hear you pee.

Today, I want to switch places with you so I can do my hair without interruption and put on make up that other people will see. I want to wear nice fashionable clothes and impractical footwear.

For a little while, I want to leave behind the messy house and messy kids. I want to have mature conversations with people who don't have to be reminded that a sentence with "bum" as every second word isn't really that funny. I want to eat lunch with people who will eat what is put in front of them, mop up their own spills, and get their own drinks.
I want to go somewhere where I get paid to use my brain just so I'm reminded that I have one.

For just a few minutes, I want to be independent and stylish. I want to leave it all behind and be you again.

But only for a moment, because when the moment's gone, I'll immediately wish I were me again. I'll miss the little hugs and kisses that fuel me and give me all the love and appreciation I need.

You have so much that I wish I still had. But I also have something you don't have -- even with all the chaos, noise, and mess, I have the two little people who make me smile even on my darkest days, who mean more to me than life itself, who make my heart swell by just saying "I love you, Mama". I have my babies.

Don't worry. One day, you'll be me.

.: This is an original Canada Moms Blog post by NenetteAM who also writes about her favourite people, places, and things at Life Candy, tweets at @NenetteAM, and is right now having another "Calgon, take me away" moment because her kids are fighting... again.