The Creepiest Aisle at Walmart is Definitely:

The doll aisle.

There is a doll that will crawl as you walk past her, one that says prayers in Spanish, and numerous dolls that wiggle and coo like puppies. I don't envy those of you with girls (ok, I do. Just not the doll part).

We were in the doll aisle for one reason: We've decide to give the Dr. Phil potty training method a try. A doll that wets herself is suggested (along with noise makers and party hats).

I was very discouraged by the fact that this baby has breasts. Seriously? Do you see her knockers? (Gross!) I wasn't particularly happy with the selection of party hats, either.

This is the kind of silly crap moms do for the love of their children. And for the sake of potty training.

Photo Update

I've been so lazy when it comes to blogging. But seeing Tuck and Butterball reunited gives me a reason to post pictures (don't worry, Grandma San Antonio, I'm burning you a disc).

Getting through the Terrible Twos (a stage which we've officially entered) is usually cured with candy:

Hugs:

Being independent:
The aquarium:
Playing hard to get (how did he learn that already?):

Busy Bee

I've been sewing up a storm lately. I'm on a roll and feel like I can't stop!

I decided that Butterball needed a matching purse for the dress I made her:

And when the handle on my school bag broke, I designed (ok, Erin, not that big of a deal) and made a new one! Can you see the pleats? It's much cuter in person, but I'm also kicking myself for not interfacing it:

I embellished our Plain Jane shower curtain with some vintage lace out of my Grandmother's stash:

And.....

Warning: If you are my sister and want to be surprised for your birthday, do not continue to scroll.

Are you sure?

Ok. The purse:

And the makeup bag (my first project including a zipper. Not quite as bad as I expected):

And now, I'm going to participate in Spring Top Week, over at Rae's. Now that birthdays are under control, I'm going to sew for me, me, me.

Child Talk

Here I am with something that I fear I will forget if I don't document it.

I was sitting in the living room this evening, somewhat engaged in reading blogs, while occasionally looking at the television to see what was happening on COPS. Tucker walked in as a big ol' woman got tased. She fell (hard and clumsily) to the ground, which yanked her pants down enough to expose her thong (THONG!). Tucker looked straight at the television and said, "Eeeeeww."

That's my boy.

Mission Accomplished

Remember how I said I miss the feeling of my legs giving out to the point that I had to slide down the stairs on my butt? Yeah, Trainer Man accomplished that today.

I wasn't sure what to expect. I knew it would be difficult, but I really had no idea that it would be so intense. After 100 squats and 60 push-ups, Trainer Man said, "Great! We're 25% done with the warm-up!"

My legs were already burning. I was breathing like I had been held under water ten seconds too long.

The rest of the session was a mixture of whining, grunting, and cursing myself for getting so out of shape. Trainer Man calmly encouraged me and let me whine, grunt and curse. On the way back to the house from the park, my legs kept giving out and I had to catch myself from falling. I love that feeling. (I no longer miss it.) :)

I came home to freshly-baked banana bread which tasted amazing after such a crazy workout. I can't wait to work out on Monday (I was instructed to take tomorrow off).

Oh, and I have phenomenal legs. At least that's the adjective I think Trainer Man used. My mind was in a haze at the time so I can't be sure. I had to fight my urge to reply, "Yeah, but you haven't seen them without pants."

If you're in the Springs area and want an awesome, kick-ass trainer, email me at erinrages@yahoo.com and I'll give you his contact information.

Change

I used to wake up in the dead of Kansas winter to swim at five am for off-season tennis training. I would run coliseum stairs until my shins screamed. I was a slow runner, but enjoyed watching the wheat fields pass me by as I ran in the sizzling Kansas summer. I endured extraordinary pain in the weight room. My body was often so sore the day after a tough workout, I had to slide down stairs on my rear; trying to use my legs would have resulted in a serious downward tumble. I miss feeling like that.

These days, I'm more of a couch-potato. I read blogs, sew purses, knit gloves, bake cookies, enjoy cigarettes with my coffee, etc. (all lovely things, of course. But none of them make me feel the way I did as a college athlete). The most exercise movement I've had recently was raking leaves on a Saturday afternoon.

So I've made a step towards becoming an athlete once again. I've hired a personal trainer.

It sounds a lot more glamorous than it really is; I'm fortunate to have found a friend and co-worker that charges just enough money for his training to be considered professional experience. That works perfectly because I'm making less money than most of my high-school students with part-time jobs (how's that for depressing?).

Normally when I go through the "I'm Fat and Need More Exercise" cycle, I dread actually starting my work-outs. But I'm actually really excited to see what I can push my body to do when Trainer Man comes over on Saturday.

Hands

I fell off the I Heart Faces wagon a while back, but they have a really cool "Hands" competition this week. I took this photo of Tucker and Butterball last June and it's still one of my favorites.

They were so well-behaved that day, sitting in a quaint Gig Harbor Italian Restaurant, sharing a large plate of olives, mozzarella, and pineapple chunks that the waitress brought out especially for them. I can't wait to see them together again. :)

(I was shocked to be the 838th entry! There are some great photos entered. Go check it out if you wish).