Archive for January, 2012

It’s nearly a week into the new year and I have yet to utter one single resolution for the betterment of my own life and/or the world at large. As much as I really liked the format of a laundry list of goals both long and short-term, and the monthly shamefest, uh, I mean check-in, it’s just not a possibility for me at this juncture, and that’s not me being lazy, it’s me being truthful. It’s not because I don’t have goals. Actually my goals for this year are so big, so incredibly giant, that one or two of them could very seriously kick the shit out of last year’s whole list.

The problem is? I have zero control over these goals. I can’t work really hard, or pray to baby jebus, or rub a buddha belly, or stay up all night worrying, or practicepracticepractice, or say any magic words {but trust me I will be doing many combinations of all of those things anyway} to achieve these goals. Sure, there are things I can do to improve my chances but in the end, I’ll have to breathe deep, let go and see where the path leads. Did I mention I’m not very good at that sort of thing? Because, really. I’M NOT VERY GOOD AT THAT SORT OF THING. I like to know whenwhywhowhatwherehow many months in advance of anything, but the “when” is my weakest point. I’m a stickler for time, and in being such, I’m a sucker for time and like how most of these things go, it’s one of my greatest strengths and terrible weaknesses. So not having a timeline for many of my goals is…hmm…let’s put it nicely and just say it’s aggravating.

So I’m not going to go in depth about most of the big goals, but since I got all over-sharey last November, you guys already know that we’re working on procuring ourselves another little gunterling so it’s pretty obvious that this is one of the big goals for 2012. Unfortunately, time is not on our side. If it were only as simple as getting pregnant, {which OHRIGHT, has not been simple} but the real complicating factor is that if I do get knocked up I will also be knocked on my ass for a minimum of four months. Hyperemesis doesn’t mean you feel sort of queasy during periods of the day, or that certain foods send you running to the bathroom. It means you feel like you’re in the middle of the worst hangover you’ve ever had with no end in sight and every single thing you even get a whiff of can start the puking. By the second week of this with both kids, I swear I did not even feel like a human being anymore. I am not functional in any normal sort of way.

I cannot be in this state over the summer months, for one, because the kids are home fulltime and while Bill’s job is flexible it’s not THAT flexible, and for two, my younger sister is getting married at the end of July and I sort of think she’d appreciate it if I was upright and didn’t have throw-up on my bridesmaid dress. So. That means the worst of the sickness needs to be over by Mayish and even that’s REALLY pushing it. So that means that if I don’t get and stay {always a plus!} knocked up by mid-late February, then that’s it for Operation Gunterling 2012.

The pressure of it all is sort of making me want to punch myself in my own damn face, which is why I need a smallish outlet that will come in the form of miniature goals, not to be confused with miniature golf which is also fun but completely off topic. At first I thought I could start with a few goals for each month, easily attainable ones that I could give myself a cheap pat on the back for but even that seems like a stretch right now. With so very many unknowns set out before us, I am opting for weekly goals that I’m going to put zero pressure on myself for keeping up with should our circumstances change or maybe even if I get distracted by something bright and shiny.

I’m thinking maybe now would be a good time to quit talking and start listing.

Goals for January, Week One:


Somewhere in the hectic schedules of 4 dance lessons/karate/piano/preschool/kindergarten et all, and the hugely chaotic seasons of fall and winter and the 9,008 holidays stuffed into them, I quit playing with Keaton. And when I did I was most assuredly making a to-do list in my head or worrying about what I should/could be getting done at the moment. I personally think that there’s nothing wrong with a little independent playtime or even to throw a video or PBS on so you can attack that bathroom or the looming laundry pile that threatens to take over the house. But over the last 6 weeks I was leaning on those things far more heavily than I normally like to and I could really see the difference in Keaton. Kid was cranky. Kid was needy. Kid was sort of an asshole.

This is not normally my hilarious, smiley, happy-go-lucky guy, so after I vacuumed up the last of the pine needles on Monday, I sat down and thought about how to help him and the answer came pretty easy. Keaton’s “love language” or whatever new-agey, touchy-feely term you want to stamp on it, is no big mystery…he wants time. Time with me specifically, and that has been seriously lacking since this summer. So this week I made myself prioritize my chores so I could carve out most of my mornings just for him and wow what a difference it made. Yes I was getting the beginnings of a sinus infection, yes we were all trying to reacclimate to the normal week’s routine, but I still made time for a delicious Play-Doh sushi brunch, a paper jams jamming session, multiple tea parties and fun games for numbers and letters practice. And I also reminded myself that this is a kid who can really be happy doing anything as long as he’s with me so I had a laundry buddy, a dishes buddy, a dusting buddy and a exercising buddy. It’s actually been a pretty fun week.


Other than the obvious, the biggest downside of last fall’s miscarriage was that it was very physically painful and lasted weeks, and when it was over I was left smack dab in the middle of Christmas cookie season. Part of the problem is that having the knowledge that I could become horribly ill and go for months without being able to eat barely any food, let alone good food, can really fuck with you. In other words, I really wanted to monopolize on my food intake while I could. This is actually a pretty smart move considering I lost around 20 pounds in my first trimester with Rowan and 16 with Keaton. Natch, this time I never got sick but I was completely inactive during the weeks leading up to and then during the almost four week period it took me to miscarry. Needless to say, my body took a beating and I was in no place to start an exercise regimen. And guess what?! I’m still not. But I can’t live like I’m going to get knocked up when all evidence points to the fact that it might not happen for a while.

Until I know for sure, my goal is to move more, which means less couch time and more activity. For this week my move time involved running my stairs, 16 steps worth, 25 times. I know this sounds like a tiny amount and that’s what I thought during rounds 1{ha!},2{seriously this is it?},3{yawn},4{this is laughable}, 5 {and also for pussies} and then six came and I wanted to chop both of my legs off mid-thigh and my heart rate was telling me that perhaps I better slow down lest it explode right then and there and I still had 19 more rounds to go. I did this three times this week, only skipping Thursday due to the aforementioned sinus infection that threatened to flatten me but was staved off by that day of rest and copious amounts of Emergen*C and zi*cam.

The other thing I did for movement was purchase our very own copy of Just Dance 3 and you laugh now, Internet, but after dancing five of those things in quick succession I dare you not to be a sweaty mess. This was also a huge hit with Keaton who likes to do it with me. I’ll be re-evaluating what will keep me moving from week-to-week, but since this worked really well this week, I plan to keep it up for next. By March I’ll be able to form a more coherent exercise plan if need be, which will definitely include a more regimented schedule of running and strength training, but for now, this works.


Again. I don’t really know what the next few weeks will bring so making a huge diet overhaul would be a waste of time. After the overindulgence of the holidays, my plan for this week was to under-indulge if you will, which included way smaller portions, lots of vegetables, bananas, oranges and nuts, and many many gallons of water. Wine, olives and cheese are going back to weekend-only duty for the most part. So sad.

And that’s really it. I think for now it’s enough to give me focus without frustrating me due to the oh so many unknowns of 2012. I probably won’t punish you with weekly check-ins but if there’s a big shift or new goal or some of the fog clears that will give us some damn insight to what the next 12 months holds, I’ll be sure to fill you in.


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You guys? It was so much fun. The Mallinger’s hosted another bang-up night filled with so much terrible{ly awesome} dancing and unnecessary loud singing, that that one time when your dog wouldn’t stop barking Saturday night? Was probably because he was trying to drown us out, poor thing. Added to the mix of various versions of Rock Band and Just Dance were Glee Karaoke and the real hero of the night {unless your name is Bill and probably everyone else in which case you would maybe switch out the word hero for horror} ABBA karaoke. IT WAS SO HORRIBLY AWESOME I CAN’T EVEN TELL YOU. Except I’m going to. Tell you it’s awesome. Because it is. SUPER AWESOME.

The night started out innocently enough…

Taking a nice picture of five little people is harder than it looks. {Especially when you're busy over-seeing the creation of your Flirtini.} IRREGARDLESS. Here's the kiddos that were present and accounted for at this year's celebration.


Pretty soon the Mario Kart tournament was on and although I didn't remember this at the time, my archives tell me that after beating almost everyone Jason used some sort of witchcraft to knock me off my game. That's two years' in a row, Deps. NOT COOL.

Soon after the dancing began. My brother joined us for the first time this year and was quickly introduced to the love and humiliation of dancing while the rest of your family heckles you.

Suddenly all those thousands we've spent on competitive dance were worth it when Rowan won at Just Dance. Sad but true.

We switched gears to Rock Band at some point, probably because while Just Dance is hilarious and fun? It's also a shit load of work. Here Snoreface is reminding us to Don't Stop Believing and also to Hold on to that Feelaaaaang. Streetlights and People may have also been involved.

At five to midnight we paused the game just in time to throw some champagne in some glasses and toast to the New Year with the people we love. {Again awww, and again HURL.}

By roughly 12:03am the new year was assaulted with so. much. ABBA. What was that? Yes my four year old DID know the lyrics to 75% of the songs already, thanks for asking.

After putting Keaton to bed we snuck out to light a small celebratory fountain. Unlike 2010, this one wasn't marked XXXRUNXXX. You really never know what you're going to get with my brother.

And there you have it! It was one of the best New Year’s Eve parties yet and trust me it took a good thirty-six hours to fully recover from it. I guess that’s really it, nothing else to see here- OH, WAIT!

Easter wouldn’t be Easter without the Bunny. Thanksgiving wouldn’t be Thanksgiving without the turkey. Christmas wouldn’t be Christmas without Santa. And…

NYE wouldn't be NYE without the DCFI being...well...the DCFI. And it doesn't get much better than when he's outfitted with a pipe and a neon Polaris jacket from 1984. And now starts my campaign for this image to be included on the Mallinger's 2012 Christmas card.

Merry New Year, Internet!

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