Friday Wrap Up and The Tale of the Bed
Yay! Friday! This week was far superior to last week. The Kid was great. I believe that the term the daycare is looking for once again is "phase". I picked him up yesterday and we had a grand ole time. I am very much looking forward to the weekend. And cannot wait to just chill again. I went on the scale this morning and I have not lost weight. Well la di frickin la. Am I upset? A teeny tiny bit but to be honest I don't really care after this week. This week has had lots of wins:
- Made chocolate chip cookies and did not even have one (Big WIN)
- Bought bagel chips for the Kid and was able to avoid temptation (Another Big WIN)
- I feel pretty awesome in fact. My energy levels are so much higher and I've been in a pretty good mood. --- No sugar/carb crash in the afternoons
- Went to the gym 3 times this week
- Took the Kid to daycare 3 times this week which involves 10 minutes of uphill walking pushing a 30 pound kid in a stroller. Then carrying him up 2 flights of stairs because, yes, he demands me to (little Soviet coach, I tell you) then another 10 minute walk/run to the subway
- Better sleeping through the night
Even though the scale hasn't shown a loss, I feel like I have lost. Scales lie, pants don't. I will stay strong and continue! Onwards and upwards!
And so my children. Sit down and let me tell you "the story of the bed". A tale so terrifying that you will vow to remain single for years to come. Or suggest separate bedrooms with your betrothed. You see, we have a bed. A double bed of European Ikea heritage. Crafted from the crappiest of metals, almost like part was made from industrial metal shelving. The headboard consists of two metal pipes that hit one in the spine in the most uncomfortable way if one was so inclined to want to read a book. Being a European bed, it is low to the ground, almost like a teenage futon during a growth spurt. There is storage underneath so that's a win but otherwise, this bed is dead to me. It creaks, it groans and getting out of it every morning involves a series of grunts and the use of stomach muscles. I'm done.
So one day, I (the hero in this story), went onto the Ikea website and found the bed of my dreams. A bed that is black painted wood with shelves for storage underneath. The bed looks like what I would imagine a siren's song would be if the song was painted in a series of beautiful strokes, building a mosaic of comfort and dare I say, sensuality. I forwarded the link to the Husband with the words; "If you buy me this bed, I will sleep with you more" to which he responded "You say that about every purchase. I've caught on." Kerblast! And so, over the last few weeks, I continued to gently broach the topic of the new bed. I talked about the bed, I looked at pictures of the bed, I may or may not have jumped on our current crap bed to make the squeaking even more obnoxious... And when I saw that one little glimmer of hope that perhaps we could buy this bed, the Husband said "It's too high.". GAH! Too high for what?!?! And so subtlety went out the window and I acted all mature and whined and whined "I WAAAAAANT IT". And then I showed him that they deliver it for a fair price.
I have said in the past that the Husband does say "no" to me but he doesn't straight out say it. Oh no, he waterboards me with inane questions or comments until I finally say to myself, "Not worth it!". We hadn't talked about the bed for at least a week. When I was out on Wednesday he sent me a text and said "maybe we should go to Ikea and look at it." Now before you say, "aww. What a guy." lemme explain. The idea of going on a Saturday to Ikea with the Kid is a root canal inducing painful thought. Check mate. He had me. So I fumed to myself until last night when he casually said "So Ikea on Saturday? My mom can watch the Kid." Oh sweet mother in heaven, a thousand times yes!!! Now there is no happy end to this story yet but there will be, no matter what, a consolation prize - Ikea shit and lots of it. Stay tuned to find out if we ever get this damn bed.
Happy Friday!
- Made chocolate chip cookies and did not even have one (Big WIN)
- Bought bagel chips for the Kid and was able to avoid temptation (Another Big WIN)
- I feel pretty awesome in fact. My energy levels are so much higher and I've been in a pretty good mood. --- No sugar/carb crash in the afternoons
- Went to the gym 3 times this week
- Took the Kid to daycare 3 times this week which involves 10 minutes of uphill walking pushing a 30 pound kid in a stroller. Then carrying him up 2 flights of stairs because, yes, he demands me to (little Soviet coach, I tell you) then another 10 minute walk/run to the subway
- Better sleeping through the night
Even though the scale hasn't shown a loss, I feel like I have lost. Scales lie, pants don't. I will stay strong and continue! Onwards and upwards!
And so my children. Sit down and let me tell you "the story of the bed". A tale so terrifying that you will vow to remain single for years to come. Or suggest separate bedrooms with your betrothed. You see, we have a bed. A double bed of European Ikea heritage. Crafted from the crappiest of metals, almost like part was made from industrial metal shelving. The headboard consists of two metal pipes that hit one in the spine in the most uncomfortable way if one was so inclined to want to read a book. Being a European bed, it is low to the ground, almost like a teenage futon during a growth spurt. There is storage underneath so that's a win but otherwise, this bed is dead to me. It creaks, it groans and getting out of it every morning involves a series of grunts and the use of stomach muscles. I'm done.
So one day, I (the hero in this story), went onto the Ikea website and found the bed of my dreams. A bed that is black painted wood with shelves for storage underneath. The bed looks like what I would imagine a siren's song would be if the song was painted in a series of beautiful strokes, building a mosaic of comfort and dare I say, sensuality. I forwarded the link to the Husband with the words; "If you buy me this bed, I will sleep with you more" to which he responded "You say that about every purchase. I've caught on." Kerblast! And so, over the last few weeks, I continued to gently broach the topic of the new bed. I talked about the bed, I looked at pictures of the bed, I may or may not have jumped on our current crap bed to make the squeaking even more obnoxious... And when I saw that one little glimmer of hope that perhaps we could buy this bed, the Husband said "It's too high.". GAH! Too high for what?!?! And so subtlety went out the window and I acted all mature and whined and whined "I WAAAAAANT IT". And then I showed him that they deliver it for a fair price.
I have said in the past that the Husband does say "no" to me but he doesn't straight out say it. Oh no, he waterboards me with inane questions or comments until I finally say to myself, "Not worth it!". We hadn't talked about the bed for at least a week. When I was out on Wednesday he sent me a text and said "maybe we should go to Ikea and look at it." Now before you say, "aww. What a guy." lemme explain. The idea of going on a Saturday to Ikea with the Kid is a root canal inducing painful thought. Check mate. He had me. So I fumed to myself until last night when he casually said "So Ikea on Saturday? My mom can watch the Kid." Oh sweet mother in heaven, a thousand times yes!!! Now there is no happy end to this story yet but there will be, no matter what, a consolation prize - Ikea shit and lots of it. Stay tuned to find out if we ever get this damn bed.
Happy Friday!
Comments
Post a Comment