On the way home last night, I heard a commercial on the radio for the new Domino’s fudge squares. Having had some of them recently, and discovered how completely awesomely fudge-ilicious they are, I immediately started craving them. (LilZ says they are “too chocolatey” to which I reply, “YOU ARE NOT MY SON.”) I called my husband and asked if it was okay to bring Domino’s home for dinner (he’s a Little Caesar’s fan) which he didn’t mind at all since it was his night to cook dinner.

Those brownie boxes come with, like 10 squares. Along with hot-fudge dipping sauce. I think I ate six (or maybe eight?) of them. I also ate some of LilZ’s cinna-sticks. All on top of three pieces of sausage pizza. And then later I had a bowl of raisin bran.

This is how I binge.

Now matter how hard I work at being “healthy,” once I have my first unhealthy food for the day (yesterday - chicken biscuit from Chic-fil-A) it is all downhill from there. I just eat and eat (and eat…and eat…) until I physically can not eat anymore. I even stayed up later so I could eat more because in my head, the day was already wasted, I should take full advantage of it. I almost made myself sick, I ate so much.

Oh - and last night was supposed to be a gym-night. Needless to say, that didn’t happen.

So, my current mission: If I eat an unhealthy meal - I will try not to look at it as a “day wasted.” Instead, I will try to just forget about it and focus on eating healthy the rest of the day. I want to be able to say, “I’m healthy.” Not, “I’m healthy today.” Sometimes healthy people eat cake, that’s okay. I just don’t need to follow that cake up with chicken tenders, ice-cream, french fries and waffles.

Mmmm…french fries and waffles…

I found this at Electrolicious and it’s loads of fun.

You go to Google and type in your name along with the pharse “last I heard he/she was” and see what you get. Find out what you’re up to these days…

So, I entered Kim “last I heard she was” and here are some of my results:

Last I heard, she was working at Yosemite
Good for me! I’ve only been to Yosemite once, but I loved it!

Last I heard, she was happy in Chicago
Going to BlogHer 2007? Possibly?

Last I heard she was still in Puerto Vallarta
Dude. I’m so cool.

last I heard she was moving to Yorkton
That doesn’t sound quite as fun as Chicago…

Last I heard she was living in Montana somewhere
Somewhere? That’s a little vague.

Last I heard, she was working for Conan O’Brien
AWESOME! That’s much better than “somewhere” in Montana!

last I heard, she was in graduate school at Indiana State University
No thanks. I have no desire to go back to college. The first two degrees scarred me deeply.

last I heard, she was still asking questions and still reading her Bible
HA! I don’t think so.

last I heard she was married to a Mayor
Mayor of Somewhere, Montana?

Dear Jackass who flipped me off today -

I am truly sorry I chose to STOP at the red light before turning right. I apologize for not having the balls to just keep going and hope there was no one coming up over the hill to plow me over. Obviously - I should have been thinking less about going to feed my daughter and more about how big of a hurry you were in. And when you honked at me and I had the gall to turn around and look at you? Oh - that was so wrong of me. I totally deserved to have you raise your arms in exasperation and then fly past me with a certain middle finger waving in the wind. Your class and maturity has inspired me. Maybe I can find some puppies to kick today - in your honor.

Someone unworthy to share the road with you,
Z

Dear Emma Watson,

The fact that you’re considering ditching the last two Harry Potter films has me in a bit of a frenzy. You do realize that what is important here is not your well-being or desire to live a life outside of Hermione Granger’s. What is important is that I want you to stick around. I appreciate that you haven’t realized yet that my wishes should come before yours - so I’m taking the opportunity to tell you now: They Do. You must think of me for a change. I don’t handle change well. I don’t want anyone else. I want you. Please straighten this up ASAP.

(Thanks for the link, Kenna.)

The one who matters,
Z.

Dear all clothing companies currently producing shorts that cover less skin than my underwear,

I really am not a big fan of looking at girls’ asses hanging out of their shorts at the mall. It makes me very uncomfortable to see any part of someone’s body that I would normally only see if we were romantically involved. Some of the shorts these days cut up higher on the thigh than even my sexiest pair of underwear. Whenever I see a girl wearing these panties shorts, I think two things. One - surely they snuck out of the house before their parents saw them leave in their underwear. And two - maybe I should buy this girl a drink since I feel like I’ve become intimate with her by simply standing on the same escalator she did.

I’m too old for this,
Z.

We had our first bully incident yesterday. I’m not going to get into the details of the encounter because I’m not sure a certain pre-teen would appreciate it. Just know it was LilZ trying to stand strong against a bully. While the bully wasn’t impressed.

Since it occurred after school, while the kids were waiting for the bus, the security guy wrote it down in his magic notebook and said they’d meet about it today. LilZ seemed a bit unsettled by it all, but not as much as I would have been. He’s just so damn laid-back. I told him I was going to call the school today to make sure there was a follow-up. They take bullying very seriously there, the principal even gave out her home phone number to report cyber-bullying that may occur after school hours. They insist that if they nip bullying in the bud when it first shows it’s face - they can prevent an epidemic of it.

This has me beyond freaked out. It wasn’t a huge incident, no one was hurt or anything. But - I’m a mother. My son was threatened. It makes the den-mother side of me rage in ways I probably shouldn’t transcribe. I would love to go up there and cause a huge scene to make sure this kid is kicked out of the school. Hell, I would love to kick him out myself. Do you think they’d let me?

No, I know. I don’t really think the kid should be kicked out or anything. Nor will I go up there and raise a stink when my son is old enough that a move like that could cause embarassment on a deathly level. But I will call. And I’ll try not to refer to LilZ as “my baby” while conveying my concern. This is new parental territory for me. Territory I hoped I’d never have to cross. Territory I’m incredibly unprepared for. Freaked out is probably an understatement - now that I think about it.

That’s it. Nikki is grounded until she’s 25.

Sometimes? There is a definite benefit to sending a child to daycare. I do not think I could have ever found the courage to brave this type of activity at my home. Even if the paint was water-based and easy to clean (which it was), I wouldn’t have wanted to even run the risk of getting blue on the walls and or carpet and have some sort of fluke reaction happen and then have to hear my husband talk about that blue mark forever.

Nope. This is what I pay an arm and two legs for. So that my daughter can experience the joy of mess-making via finger paint, while I smile and look fondly at the pictures the daycare sends me. And I never have to clean up one drop of blue on any surface - human or otherwise.