I need a young priest and an old priest…

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Pretty sure I need an exorcist. Something has taken over my body and is making me do crazy things.

I am currently on day 30 of the Whole30. What the hell? 

I bought new tennis shoes and I am excited for my next day in the gym. Wait, what?

I ate some (like, very few some) sugar today (and pretty much everyday this week) and I have had a raging head ache since causing me to continue to try and kick the shit. Who are you?

Here is the kicker, I want to go to all (and there are a lot) of people whom I totally judged for having to modify everything in public because they were on some special food restriction for one reason or another and apologize because I am one of those people now…dammit.

Don’t get me wrong, I will still judge and ridicule, but it will be with a new found assertion because I can mock myself. “God, we are such tools” instead of “you are a tool”. See, much better.

This thing that has invaded my body has not caused any change in its physical appearance and that is not as big of a deal as I thought it would be (further proof that this alien force has messed with my psyche).

It has put on spandex-like materials and entered public areas with other humans like it is no big deal and proceeded to move my body in very unflattering ways (squatting, bending at waist and sticking head up while throwing arms behind my back, laying on my back and kicking my legs, even jogging on a movable strip of rubber?! wtf?!).

It has convinced me that it is okay to watch The Voice and then go to bed with little to no guilt.

The thing has even allowed me to eat a cookie and not feel like I need to go in the bathroom and whip my back with chains, but rather say “mmmm that was good, but I have a headache now and I don’t need anymore”. Those are not words I would say.

And the world hasn’t come crashing down just because my allergies are acting up and I am tired. Only once did I think I had a tumor in my sinuses. That is a flipping miracle,

And my gift to this thing for getting through the whole 30 days without giving up? A new pair of tennis shoes and overpriced workout pants. WHAAAA???? Not an entire cake? Not a whole box of Mike ‘n Ikes? Not even a Diet Coke? Nope. Things that will keep it going.

So now what?

I am going to keep going. I am going to embrace this alien thing inside of me and welcome it into the many personalities I have picked up on my journeys and encourage it to kick the shitty personalities that still remain out.  I am going to go to the gym tomorrow. I am going to make a new egg bake for my breakfast on the go. I am going to grab some more kale tomorrow for my green smoothies. I am going to eat some french fries if I want to (but only if I want to). I am not going to say I can’t have certain things (because I am not one of those people), but I am going to stay way from things that make me fell like less of a rock star.

I might fail. The thing inside of me may not want to fight all the time. I may want to throw in the towel. I may not “look” the way I feel.

And that is okay. This little slice of internet will be here for me to read and come back to.  I can always come back.

But hopefully I will stay.

Up next: How to feed your children shitty ass food while you eat clean and feel great without wondering why they are acting like assholes. (looking for a guest blogger, cause I have no idea)

Welcome Back (and why I am here)

My head is slowly emerging from the fog of summer and the blur of first days of school.

While driving my youngest to school this morning, my mind was swimming on what I could do today to help my professional life grow and, of course, what I am going to cook for dinner. Getting her out of the car, she grabbed me around the neck, hugged me and whispered, “you are the best mommy ever. Thanks for carrying me.”

Best reminder ever.

When I decided to get into Real Estate, I did not have the vision of being , but to be a human among humans. To show my daughters that I can follow my dreams and they, too, can do and be anything they want.  I didn’t think of the money, the hours, or the way I should start dressing when I made this decision and stated moving toward it. Don’t get me wrong, I would love to do a bit of guilt-free shopping every now and again, the hours may be a bit difficult at first, but we will make it work, and I might need to invest in some better looking yoga pants and some more cardigans (you know to dress it up a bit).

I honestly thought about how much I would love doing it. Love spending my time researching facts and figures to help people understand the market; love reading people and hearing what they want and guiding them to that; love looking at houses and seeing the possibilities of making it someones home; love coming home and my kids asking how work was.

For the first time in my adult life, I feel no need to embellish my profession and make it seem like I am something I am not. When people ask me how my new ‘job’ is going, I can honestly answer “it is great”.  When they ask about how much money I am making or how many listings I have, I can answer them with the truth, “I am learning so much and I absolutely love doing it!” (Of course it is followed with a few numbers and maybe a sales pitch, but you get the point). This is my life now. It seems seamless to me. A perfect fit into my already full life.

*caution* super cliche saying ahead

I do not feel like this is a job start, but a new life path.  That brings me nothing but joy.

Maybe at some point I will get a pencil skirt, blazer and stilettos and hit the ground as saleswoman extraordinaire, but for now I thoroughly enjoy helping people and making my daughters proud of their Mommy because she is proud of herself.

Now I just need to figure out what the hell we are having for dinner.

B

The Oatmeal Breakfast (aka why I love saturday morning breakfast)

We love oatmeal. It may be a problem.
In of itself, loving oatmeal is not a bad thing. However, as a mother of three who reluctantly does whatever they want from time to time despite my bad ass nature, making and serving said oatmeal is an ordeal.
Here are the instructions so someone can give me when I lose my mind and can no longer function as a member of my family…

  • Start a medium pot of water boiling
  • Add a random amount of oatmeal. If you are a stick-up-you-ass type, go ahead and measure it out according to directions. You are now a Follower.
  • Cook for about a minute. This results in a nice, thick, sticky oatmeal. Just the way I like it. 
  • Spread about half of it on a large plate, put in freezer to cool. 
  • While cooling, toss 4 slices of bread into toaster. 
  • While toast is…um…toasting, start a pot of coffee for yourself. Make it a whole pot, because it typically needs to last about 3 days
  • Once toast is done, butter two for yourself, cut one in 4ths and spread now cooled oatmeal on them for one kid and butter and cut in half for the other. The third kid may yell at you if you give her toast, don’t bother
  • Divide remaining cooled oatmeal into 2 bowls. The other third man out may yell at you if you give her just a bowl of oatmeal, don’t bother.
  • Pour an ungodly amount of brown sugar over all the exposed sticky, tan oatmeal in an effort to hide the fact you are attempting to give your children something good (despite the fact that you are making it decidedly un-good by adding sugar)
  • Place all 456 plates, bowls and cups on the table, return to kitchen, pour a cup of coffee, eat scraps off the counter, return to family eating area, pretend you are at a hipster breakfast place with background noise instead of your own children yelling, eat a entire bowl of oatmeal, two overly buttered pieces of toast in about 3 minutes.
  • If Weekday: run to bedrooms, but out clothes for kids…start the getting ready for school war.
  • If Saturday: Remove youngest from highchair, dust off the sugar from her face and clothes, grab cup of coffee, find couch and stay there for about an hour. 
  • In both scenarios, be sure not to clean up the table. If you do, you will be depriving yourself of the ability for massive amounts of blood to rush to your face every time you step on sticky oatmeal and it gets stuck to your foot, or every time you attempt to scrape dried, hardened brown sugar encrusted oats off the table.

Feel free to use this method, just give me credit. It has taken a lot of sweat and tears to perfect.

Enjoy!
B