Tuesday, December 20, 2005

Well, I made it, (just barely) and boy lemme tell ya, things got a bit hairy and it's a wonder that everything didn't end up a complete catastrophe regarding stress/emotional eating. Good lord, where do I even begin??? First of all, there is no pre-made fudge to be found at Walmart, (I checked two different ones) Kroger, or Target, so Bub is just gonna have to be happy with the small amount that my stepmom sent home, 'cause I'm not making the stuff myself, period! Now, on to Bub dressing up as Santa for his shop owner friend. Here are a few shots with Em on his lap, on an ATV.

They didn't have much business because they didn't advertise that Santa was going to be there very well, but they're putting the word out more and he's gonna do it again next Saturday (yes, Christmas Eve, don't ask me what he was thinking!) Anyway, Em got a big kick out of it so that's all I care about.

Then, Sunday, me and Em were off to my dad and stepmom's for the gingerbread thing. But not before Bub decides to stop me the very last minute as we're hurriedly rushing out the door late, because he wanted to discuss some business proposition that he was offered to increase the amount of part-time programming work he's already been doing in addition to his day job. I, of course, being in a hurry, didn't give acceptably thoughtful enough answers and was made to wait through a mini lecture (thank god it was mini!) about how he needs to know my opinion on this (even though he obviously already has his mind made up about it) and how it's not his fault that he didn't know we were leaving right then (even though I told him what time we were leaving repeatedly) and how rude it was of me to not stop and put some real thought into what he was asking me, and blah blah blah! Whatever dude, just shut the fuck up! So I finally took a minute and told him what he wanted to hear, and then we were on our way (30 minutes late). As soon as we get in the car, Em is like why does he always do that? And is pissed off that another one of his "lectures" is threatening to ruin our plans yet again. My poor, sweet little girl, she knows him so well. She even tries to give me advice on how to deal with him when he's being like that, and will say things like, daddy is just being daddy again, because she knows that we can't possibly ever know what to expect with him, especially when he's in "one of his moods" as she puts it. WTF am I even supposed to say to all that? Anyway, I called my stepmom to let her know we were running late after we were finally on our way in an hour long journey to BFE. *Make a mental note here, as the BFE part of this story will come into play in a major way shortly. So here are some pics of my little Emmy-poo decorating and showing off her magnificent gingerbread house creation.

See what I mean about the candy? What a nightmare! But alas, I was strong, and somehow managed to withstand the sweet smell and sound of the M&M's calling to me; Beverlyyyyyy, come eaaaaaaat meeeeeee! C'mon, just a few won't hurt! Damn you little chocolatey pieces of evil! Anyway, after the kids where finished and off to play, we sat around the candy filled table chatting and such while I watched my (morbidly obese) father (*make note of this too, as it's about to become important as well) continually reach into the various candy dishes as if there were no tomorrow. Oh look, he'd say, this marshmallow snowman must have fallen out of the package, I'll take care of that! Oh my, these M&M's have gotten some icing on them, darn, I guess I'll just have to eat them! Hardy har har! And so on and so forth. Exact same shit I always did. After all, I am my father's daughter! And then my stepmom broke out the baked goods to prepare me a bucket-o-crap to take home for the fam. Yes, there was fudge. In fact, there were pans and pans of it. Man, I used to make myself so sick on fudge! I would just gorge until I couldn't possibly stand another bite, and then swear the stuff off forever... until the feeling wore off and I was back at it once again. That and chocolate and walnut covered English Toffee, which is something that my mom always makes every year, but not my stepmom (thank goodness!) Anyway, she made us up a care package and I rounded up my munchkin to start our long trek home when, low and behold, my dad points out that I have a flat fucking tire! NOOOOOOOO! Did I mention we were in BFE? And when I say BFE, I mean B! F! E! Think long winding gravel covered dirt roads up to the side of a mountain, where my trusty but useless (in this case) roadside assistance coverage could not possibly go, let alone even find. Okay fine, so I'll change the stupid fucking tire, and try to make my way back out to a main road on the stupid little impotent doughnut, and then try to find a fucking service station open at 6:00 on a Sunday evening, so I can get the fucking flat fixed so I can drive the rest of the way home on the fucking freeway. Can you tell I was fucking annoyed?! And have I mentioned that I cuss like a sailor in "real life"? I know Jilly, pick your jaw up off the floor sweetie, and remember about that dirty little facade which I present so readily to the world. So we start to change the tire, and bless his heart, my dad expects that he'll do it all himself, being the man and the dad that he is, but the fact is, he just can't do a whole lot. He's huffing and puffing like his chest is about to explode, he can't get down, he can't get up, and he certainly can't seem to catch his breath. I wanted to cry for him, and it felt so awkward because we both knew what the problem was, and there wasn't a damn thing we could do about it. I wanted to just tell him to stop before he had (another) heart attack, but we both knew that his pride would never allow it. So I did as much as he would let me, and remained silent as he struggled through what, by all rights, should have been a fairly simple task. Finally, one of the other guys comes out to offer his help, thank god, 'cause at least now I feel a little more secure in the idea that my dad will not die trying to change my stupid tire! Anyway, we get it all done, I load Em up, and we get the hell outta dodge! Making a mad dash (at a snail's pace) to the nearest WallyWorld with a tire and lube express, which just so happens to be about 20 miles away. We finally get there, we're both tired, cranky and hungry, and the people at the counter say there's five ahead of us, it'll be at least an hour, niiiiiiiice! So we pop on over to the ever conveniently built in McDonalds, much to Em's delight, where we inhale some grub (chicken nuggets and apples for her and a salad for me, thank you very much!) and take a load off while we wait. I ordered some much needed coffee, and before too long all was well with the world again. That is, until we checked back in with the tire people. They said they couldn't fix the damn thing, that it was too badly worn, and I'm gonna have to buy a brand new tire, great! Fine, whatever, give me the cheapest one you got, I don't care, I just wanna go home! (insert whine here) It ended up being about $65.00, which isn't too bad, but it's not like I had an extra 65 bucks just laying around, especially the week before Christmas! But what the hell am I gonna do about it? So that's it, we finally make it home, riding on fumes the last 20 miles or so, 'cause the last thing I want to do is stop anywhere to freeze my ass off pumping gas. And when we get there, that's it, I'm just done. Thank god Bub's out with a friend 'cause I just don't think I could have dealt with him right now. I say screw trying to talk Em into taking a shower, even though she has school the next day. It's late, and we both need to just chill, so I throw on a 1/2 pot of coffee (decaf at this point because I certainly don't want to have any trouble sleeping after this day!) and we sit down to color some pictures. That's right, we colored pictures of all things! There's nothing like zoning out and coloring some good 'ol pictures with my little pookie-pie to clear a frazzled mind. So after we de-stress a bit, I ship her off to bed for some much needed sleep, and then take my own tired butt off to bed shortly there after, foregoing my usual nightly jaunt on the Gazelle. So that's it, I didn't cave, and I didn't go off plan except for skipping my extra workout (I had already done my morning stint on the Gazelle before we left for the day). And I can proudly say that I am still fudge free, and by god, I plan to keep it that way!!


Blogger Jen said...

Man, I admire your strength and determination! No wonder you were able to lose 190 lbs! You are definitely a role model!

1:47 PM  
Blogger Amy said...

I am impressed, way to go with avoiding temptation, especially after the stress of the flat tire ordeal!

That seemed like a binge waiting to happen, I applaud you for keeping it together.

3:41 PM  
Blogger Dawnyal said...

that is so awesome Bev on resisting all that. One of these days I'll get that resolve you have. Em looks so good both in the santa and house pics.

Sorry to hear about the tire but at least you have a new one. I had the guy chase me down once from TLE to McDonald's because they couldn't fix mine.

5:31 PM  
Anonymous Jilly said...

Okay, I've revived myself sufficiently enough to reply, but would ask you to watch the fuckin' language in future, missy!! ;)

I'm so glad you have this outlet to vent when you have those kind of days from hell ~ between the candy temptations, the long drives, the terribly tiresome tire troubles and having to deal with that incredibly annoying hubby of yours, I don't know how you managed to stay sane before having a blog to let it all out! Yes, it certainly was a day from hell, but you done good, girl!

P.S. - Emmy looks adorable in all the pics, but there's something terribly perverse about Bub portraying such a giving, jolly soul :p

1:45 AM  
Blogger chryscat said...

Oh. My. God. What a fucking nightmare, for the most part.
Though I do agree that the pictures ROCK!!!
I so understand the BFE reference. I'm always scared shitless I'll be trying to explain to AAA where in the hell NS whatever is and what freakin' side highway it's off of. grrrrrrrr
It's enough to make my eye twitch.

You did SO well with the candy! Man, when it starts saying "Eat me!" it's really, really hard. I'm so vicariously turned on by that. LMAO
Okay. Okay. Anyway...I understand about the lack of patience thing. And I can relate to telling someone something and that exact person looking at you like you're stupid after you remind them of that conversation. Uh huh. *nodding*
HUGE hugs. You've done EXCELLENT!!

6:12 PM  
Anonymous Sandi said...

It just cracks me up that you cuss like a sailor! It just doesn't seem like you!! BTW - so do I!!!

Congrats on the candy, I too am pretty certain that I would have caved. And after the stresses of the day you got a salad at McDonalds! You ARE my hero!!!!

Awesome pics!!!

10:04 AM  

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