The hip and the hop.

“I’ve decided we’re not going to be fat anymore,” my annoying fiancé proudly announced.

5 minutes later his idea of a healthy late night snack was 4 slices of cinnamon bread with peanut butter and bananas.

I excused myself from that madness tonight and had grilled chicken with a handful of grapes. I didn’t get to go to the Crossfit gym because my fiancé is being a dick and I’ve been neglecting my one-on-one time with Thing 1.

Yes, I refer to my two kids as Thing 1 and Thing 2.

So instead of driving an hour to Crossfit we opted to go to the gym and take hip hop which made me grind my hips in ways I didn’t think I could anymore. Afterwards, we headed off to Barnes & Noble for some well deserved hot chocolate and girly chit chat.

Maybe I’ll spice up my life by going to the gym in the morning tomorrow.



Good vibrations.

Power outage. Spoiled groceries. Broken laptop courtesy of Thing 1.

Just some more things I can add to a week of suck.

But let’s get one thing clear. When I write about not having money, post pictures of red and yellow notices, mention things and places I can’t afford I don’t do it with the desire to create some sort of online pity party. I complain because I want people who have enough or extra to take a deep breath and be thankful for not having to pick up pennies out of necessity.

There are people who are in worst situations than I am and I’m thankful for every day I’m alive and given another chance to make the best out of what I have. My two beautiful children, a fiancé who looks the other way when I don’t have the energy to shave my legs for weeks, and the most supportive parents a girl could ask for.

Life is hard, even for people who might have it all.

I found myself staring at all my new white hair a couple of days ago and wondering how much time I’ve wasted being bitter these last 2 years. Enough.


I will still have a bad ass attitude, sass for days, and add two snaps and a twist when I feel the need no matter what but the bitterness?

Tossing that heavy, stale, unnecessary baggage out of my life.

I’m fully committing myself to being happy, healthy and fit.

Crossfit for the first time ever tonight, Paleo 4EVA, and the possibility of my fiancé finally getting a job! I’m crying sweet salty tears of joy, hope really is a beautiful thing to have. Never ever give up.

Laugh, love, appreciate.



That’s what happened while I was writing last night… But here’s what I wrote.

I was going to post pictures today but I was too busy working out, twice. I managed to eat 90% Paleo with my only two slip ups happening during breakfast.

I had a tsp of sour cream and a tsp of peanut butter.

I did about 1.8 hours of cardio, including Zumba and lifted weights like a really weak boss.

And even though I only have $79 in the bank and have just enough to buy diapers and some questionable meat I refuse to lose hope.

I’m going to make it through this.

What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Crossing my fingers I come out looking like Annie Thorisdottir.

Sunday confessions.

This edition of Sunday confessions will be served with a side of bitter thoughts and stale ass attitude.

My eating habits were HORRIBLE. So horrible that I had to use caps lock.

I didn’t go to the gym at all this week. Didn’t even bother to go for any walks or do any exercise at home.

I ate a banana at Walmart and didn’t pay for it. I didn’t have the money and I was starving (I plan on buying an extra banana next time and just leaving it).

I hated my fiancé about 10 times this week and fantasized about smashing his phone over his huge head.

I did something that maybe wasn’t very nice.

I rolled my eyes again at my friend’s pictures and wished they were in my position for a second.

I also wished I had made better choices.

I said I would post pictures tomorrow and I will but I’m fatter than ever. Like I mentioned in my previous post I’m an emotional eater and right now I’m just eating to forget.

I’m not even hungry but there I am just staring aimlessly into the fridge, grabbing junk, and stuffing my face. It’s like I don’t care anymore but I do.

I swear I want this lifestyle change. I want to be fit and healthy. I want to be able to have self-control, will power… How is it that even after hitting rock bottom on so many levels I still can’t say enough?

I keep saying and promising that tomorrow will be better, this week will be better, hoping that something will happen…

Maybe tomorrow will be different.

Gluten free.

It’s been one of those days. I seriously don’t know if I’m forever PMS’ing or if I’m just 29 going on 67.

I want to take the time to admit what may already be obvious.

I’m an emotional overeater. This week has by far been the worst in a long time.

While I actually researched and took the time to cook a Paleo friendly Thanksgiving dinner the rest of the week has been horrible.

I’ve eaten tons of bread, milk chocolate (which I absolutely hate), sour cream (ick), and fast food. I feel bloated, emotional, and know for a fact I’ve gained weight. I cringe just thinking about the pictures I said I would post Monday. You’d think I’d be more diligent about my eating and exercise and trust me I want to be but for some reason I’m overwhelmed.

I don’t know if it’s the lack of sleep or the stress over not knowing if we’re going to make ends that’s just sucking every ounce of energy out of me and leaving me barely breathing but I have to snap out of it, now.

I haven’t gone to the gym once. I’ve made horrible food choices. I’ve even been sneaking sips of soda. I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.

Am I pregnant? Is it hormonal? Should I seek out some sort of support group?

White Friday.

Oh hell no.

Push. Shove. Scream.

The occasional choke hold.

That’s how I remember Black Friday. Granted I haven’t been able to shop on this most glorious and holy of shopping days in two years but, seriously? I went to Target yesterday and there were about 20 people in the store.

All overly polite. Not a tantrum throwing toddler in sight.

And the sales and door busters? Lame. The only thing I scored was Brave for $10 (worth every damn penny). Other than that my shopping was limited to eggs, baby food, and salad because we’re gangsta like that. I thought you knew?

And well, I don’t know what kind of crazy decides to post progress pictures after the gluttony that is Thanksgiving but oh dang, that would be me.

Can’t wait.


This post isn’t about Paleo or fitness, my disheveled looks, or terrorizing kids.

This is about love. The beautiful beginning and inescapable end.

My father is a cheater. My mother is a forgiver.

I promised myself and my little universe that I would never cheat. What do you do when cheating is not an option? What do you do when after trying and trying to talk and work through things you’re constantly shut down or labeled as 5150?

How are you expected to try your best when you’re not taken seriously to begin with?

How do you survive living day after day feeling like an underpaid nanny?

What do you do when you can’t keep Georgia off your mind?