From Anya who is 3, "Cows have a good butt. Their butts are machines that make milk."

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Like thousands of late to middle aged women, my kids love beanie babies. Lucky for me, I haven't had to actually "buy" many beanie babies. Instead, my mom brings out large bags of bears and dogs and buzzards and lambs and lizards for them to choose from. All packed away with their tags encased in those plastic protectors. Even more, they love the tiny beanie babies that came from MacDonald's at some point. They love to line them all up and talk to them and name them and have school for them and feed them ice cream and create stories about them. Never in my life before I had children would I have thought that these stupid little stuffies would be useful. But they are and it is awesome.

This got me thinking. Beanie baby collectors are dying every single day. Seriously, they are. And what will happen to all of the mint condition friends? Someone totally needs to start a charity where they go and pick up beanie baby collections from grieving relatives and give the little guys to kids all around the world who need toys. Beanie baby collectors need to start adding these things to their wills or do something good for the world and start giving them away to less fortunate children right now!

If only I had time for another project.

And what about the Boyd's Bears? Those bears are far too nice for all the old ladies keeping them on shelves. I wanna be the Robin Hood of teddies and steal from them from the old and give them to the young.

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Seven day weeks are no good for weight loss.

I find that I am really good, on the mark, eating well, exercising, etc., Monday-Wednesday. Then, Thursday comes and it all goes to hell. I know it really isn't about food of course, it is about stress. So now I know that I can handle stress for about 3 days tops before I break out the cheeseburger therapy.

I have been doing this now for about 3 weeks. Ok, maybe I have been doing this for about a year. Watching myself struggle for days only to fall off the wagon.

Why am I writing this right now? I think I needed to make myself aware of it. Break the pattern, etc. I need to tell myself where I am and where I have been. The girls are three years old now! I weighed 310 pounds the day they were born. I weigh 241 right now. This second. This minute. It is 4:07 and I weigh 241 pounds and this seems acceptable. And this might be my problem. I have my entire life accepted myself and surrounded myself with people who did the same. It is hard to realize that this isn't helping me.

Yes, wait, it does help me do and be all of these awesome things. I am not afraid of failure in any other form of my life. I don't accept failure, I press on and try other things and am in my heart someone who is awesome. But really, I am failing. Every single Thursday when I let stress get to me. I am a failure. And this is something that I need to remind myself every day. No matter how much I get done in a day, momming, podcasting, making stuff, work, I continue to weigh 241 pounds. Well, of course it matters, but it isn't making me win the biggest battle of my life, the one thing that I really need to do for myself.

When I lost the 80 pounds before I got pregnant with the girls, it was a full time job. The project was me. I couldn't do anything else, but think about and fix me. As a mom, now, I don't have that luxury. So I need to accept this and move on and not pretend that it doesn't matter, that is ok to weigh 241 pounds because I am busy or tired or involved in lots of projects.

Tomorrow I turn 35. I am getting old. Both of my parents are diabetics with heart problems. I'm not just beating myself up because I want to be small or pretty or whatever, I need to beat myself up because I don't want to turn into them. Neither of them could walk a mile if they had to. I can't imagine this.

I have in the past felt strange writing about this stuff here. I hate stories of failure and in general am not interested in people who fail. So I guess I wouldn't want to read about the current me. I also reserve this space for stuff about all of my projects. So perhaps by writing about this again, the ME project will finally exist again.

Ok. It's now 4:22 and I am going to go drink some water. If you used to read this blog because you liked to watch someone struggle and lose weight (or were doing so yourself), that topic is back in the mix.

I know that sometimes I sound really anti-fat. Fatist? I don't know. I just know that I am so comfortable in my own skin, with my body, that I am currently so much smaller than I am used to being that I accept being fat too much. 241 is nothing! I know how to weigh 300 pounds! And I think the only way to push myself is to stop accepting it.

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TVZ Ep.52: "Season Finales"

This week marks the close of the first year of Television Zombies! The TVZ gang and special guests look back on 52 weeks of podcasting. Also, the news of the week and a discussion of Russell T. Davies' last regular episode of Doctor Who.

Click here to download the episode.

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This might speak for itself. But I really do need to know why anyone would need a dress AND A HAT for a troll. Do trolls even deserve clothing? In our house, one of our favorite questions is "Mama, how do you kill a troll?" The girls always think of different ways, hammer, sword, their favorite is fire. Yes, we love pretending to kill trolls. So, even my 3 year olds don't want to dress them up! They want to kill kill kill them and get their bridges or gold or whatever they may be keeping in their stinking little homes.

Ok, this one totally looks like my great grandmother:

Anyway.. those just made me really happy today. Not happy enough to ban the murder of trolls in my house, but happy because someone is actually making and selling troll clothing. Awesome.

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