I’m at the orthodontist’s office waiting to be scolded by the technician over the boys’ oral hygiene.
As you can imagine, it’s a relaxing time for all of us.
I’ve bought string floss, spinny toothbrushes, Spiderman, Batman, pick-a-heroman toothpaste, a high-falutin’ water flosser and I still get fussed at but, really, lady, I figure there’s not much I can do with thirteen year olds until that cute girl they’ve had their eye on says something to them about the Cheetos in their braces. I expect they’ll snap to at that point.
Yesterday was festive. I had a, um, PRESSING matter to take care of at my local radiology center. They were able to SQUEEZE me in at the last minute and when it was done, I
and the flattened girls went to Walmart and got there at lunch time with eleventy million people and four checkers and, honestly, I don’t know which was the more painful experience. But I survived and only made a few poor choices.
Just say no to Oatmeal Pop Tarts.
Speaking of painful experiences, I’m happy to report that I’ve stuck with the Jillian Michaels Ripped In 30 exercise plan. I started week 4 this past Sunday and 48 hours later, I’m still trying to get up the gumption to tackle it a second time. It is not a festive 25 minutes but we are pressing on because the trip is right around the corner and we want to be able to enjoy copious amounts of tortilla chips and guacamole while we’re there.
It’s a new low when you plan on and look forward to gaining weight.
Oops – they’re calling me back to inflict emotional angst and guilt, so I need to wrap this up. Hope your week is delightful, which, really, at this point if you haven’t been yelled at by the dental community, your personal trainer, AND had your chest-al parts smashed to bits, you’re ahead of me.
Have a nice day.