And here we are into the new year, 2008. Day three, and I’ve flossed for three days in a row!! *pats on the back, pats on the back* We’ve been staying busy with playdates, arts & crafts, seeing Yia–Yia and Pop-Pop, and heading back to the gym. I’ve been told that it only takes 3 days of doing something to make it a habit. Well, I took an extended break from the gym over the holiday and believe me, not going has become a habit. It’s been hard to get back up on that treadmill, but the past couple of days, I’ve been doing it.

See, here’s the thing. I got this nasty head cold on Christmas that’s just wrapping up now. It was so bad that I couldn’t smell and couldn’t taste anything. Couldn’t taste anything!! Over the Christmas holiday! That meant the eggnog I’d been dreaming about went down without any taste at all. I received two 4-piece boxes of Godiva truffles for Christmas. I ate them both (yikes!) thinking the richness of the chocolate would shock my taste back into shape. Nope. I kept eating and drinking, but nothing happened. Well, nothing happened to my taste buds; my waistline, well that’s another blog for another day. Long story short, I just had to ride it out. Food is SO unenjoyable when you can’t taste it.

You’d think I’ve got a wooden leg or something the way I’ve been eating to try and get my taste back. There’s that 3 day habit rule. Now that it is back, I’m still eating like it’s gone. I’m just “hongry“. Yes, not just “hungry”, HONGRY. When I’m having breakfast, I’m thinking about what I’m going to have for lunch. When I’m having lunch, I’m thinking about what I’m going to have for dinner. At dinner, I’m thinking about dessert and at dessert, I’m thinking, “Man, you know what would taste good for breakfast tomorrow?” What is that all about?

I’d like to think I have a pretty cultured palate. I like sushi, roti, channa masala, lo mein, samosas. Still, I’ll take a well seasoned rib-eye and my all time favorite side — potatoes. If you are what you eat, I’m a big ol‘ potato. I could give up bread, rice, corn, all that starchy stuff, but come between me and my potato and we’re fixin‘ to fight. French fries, potato wedges, scalloped potatoes, duchess potatoes, pomme dauphine, potato latkes, pierogies, new potatoes, baked, boiled, smashed, mashed, pretty much any kind of way. Yum.

My taste buds aren’t back to fighting shape, but they’re getting there. In the meantime, I’m continuing to plot out what I’m going to eat next. I paid a visit to Godiva today, but alas they were out of the very truffle that I wanted to taste — eggnog, quelle suprise. They did have gingerbread and I’m looking forward to seeing how it tastes. I got a couple, too, just in case it takes a while for the taste buds to catch up.

Sadly, I don’t have any pithy pearls of wisdom with which to ring in the new year, but I will put forth a few things, dare I say, resolutions, that I plan to incorporate into the daily routine for 2008.

1. Floss. This is my resolution for 2007 and it was a lot harder that I thought it was going to be. Seriously, flossin’ ain’t easy. And I was just going for flossing period, not twice a day or after every meal. Just picking up the floss whenever you see it and doing it. Yeah, that went the way of the dodo about April. So, we’re going to give flossing a try. Again. Here’s to my dental health!

2. Putting myself on the list. Far too often, I’ve got a to-do list several pages long filled with things that I’ve got to do, need to do, want to do and have to do — for everyone else in my life. I’ve got to put Hilary on the list and make sure the things that are important to me get done, too.

3. Be a better woman, wife and mother, in that order. That’s the order in which I assumed these roles, that’s the order in which I need to focus my attention.

4. Forgiveness, and I don’t mean a la Samantha James. I’m totally stealing this from LibbY because her message is so potent and something I didn’t know I needed to do for myself and others.

So with that, peace out, 2007. It’s 10:35pm and I’m not even going to stay up to see you out properly. I’m on my way to bed, but I’ve got to floss first.

Christmas may be over, but my two little angels keep the season going for me. We took a lot of pictures over the holiday — a lot — but this one is my absolute favorite. My MIL made both the dresses and the hats for Morgan and Coever.

When I see Morgan and Coever together, I am struck at how easily they get along, how excited Morgan is to show her little sister her dolls and her Little People. Coever is always smiling and cooing at her big sister, trying to roll over towards her to better see what’s going on. I had always wanted a sister when I was growing up and to some degree, I’m living vicariously through my girls. I’m looking forward to watching them grow into independent young ladies, the best of friends, and the strongest of sisters.

So, I’ve been working out a lot lately. Mostly cardio on the treadmill or elliptical, but I’ve been throwing in step aerobics on occasion. That’s been awesome and surprisingly difficult. I thought I had coordination. I thought I had rhythm, but when the instructors start calling out the steps, the more I think about it, the more my feet have a mind of my own. Best practice is to just move, move, move. The feet do what they are supposed to.

I’ve been told that in addition to cardio, I should supplement my work-outs by lifting weights. No problem; I like it, actually. I’ve done the Nautilus circuit and free weights on occasion and have seen good results. One thing I noticed that happens when I do the free weights, especially when I’m doing an upright row, the left side of my upper lip curls up like Elvis. Ummm, what’s that all about? I’ve tried biting my lip while I row, I’ve tried opening my mouth wide while I row, I’ve even tried singing while I row. I’m starting to wonder if my trapezius muscle is somehow connected extra tightly to my face, hence causing the lip curl. I mean, is this normal? Am I the only Elvis impersonator in the weight room?

My BIL told me about this clip on YouTube about that model that takes not one, but TWO spills on the runway. That in and of itself is funny, but what sends it over the top is the reaction of the anchors reporting on the story.

I’m in a really crap-tasic mood right now. Who cares that I’ve got Carol of the Bells playing on iTunes or that my Christmas tree is really festive and bright. It’s just been a day. In addition to all the normal SAHM type stuff that fills my day, I am finishing up my handmade Christmas cards (don’t hate) because I ran out of the photo cards. Really, I’m just looking for some down time, but I’ve still got some things to tick off of my to-do list. Of course, I’ve read that you only stress yourself out my by having a to-do list, but how else would you know what you have to-do? A conundrum wrapped in a riddle tied up with a question.

In any event, I thought in honor of the stress and crabbiness, I would offer my top ten list of things that irritate me at this particular moment on December 20th, 2007. It may change by tomorrow. Let’s hope so, but until then, feel free to contribute your own gripes.

1. Everything.

2. See # 1

3. See # 1

4. See # 1

5. See # 1

6. See # 1

7. See # 1

8. See # 1

9. See # 1

10. See # 1

As a follow-up to my Growing Up Is Hard to Do missive from the en of November, I thought it would be relevant to share this little adventure with you. So, long story short, I’m trying to embrace my adulthood, shed the cartoon tee’s and double entrendre sayings emblazoned on my shirts for more age appropriate apparel. To that end, I’m also stepping up the personal hair care and over-all Hilary maintenance, which means, instead of hoarding my gift cards for manicures/pedicures/facials etc., for a rainy day, I’m actually going to use them. Even if it means getting a babysitter to do so.

I first started plucking my eyebrows in 12th grade, courtesy of one Tanya Habib. For some reason, that was the year that the senior lounge at Mount Saint Mary Academy became an impromptu eyebrow plucking center. You couldn’t go in there without someone either getting their brows done or asking where Tanya was so that she could do it for them. Of course, there were those studious ones among us who were actually reviewing flash cards and notes for class, but c’mon, we’re high school girls. Ahhhh, memories. Going forward, I’ve never been one to let my brows get super crack-tastic. I mean, I’m not trying to look like I’ve got Chia Pets sprouting out over my eyes. I try to keep them pretty full and neat. There was one time where I let this make-up artist pluck my brows for a photo shoot. When he came at me with a Bic Razor, I knew I was in trouble.

“Something old,
Something new,
Something borrowed,
Something blue.
Hot wax upon your skin,
Rip it off ‘fore married life’s to begin.
Wax along the bikini line,
Guarantees a marriage divine.”