Party on, Wayne. Party on, Garth.

Facebook Status: Watching Beauty and the Beast at 4:00 a.m. with a *literally* hot 104 degree four year old. Because moms party hard.

This is the third night in a row I've greeted some insane hour by doing ridiculous things (i.e. anything other than sleep at this wretched time of day). Monday morning found me googling "macronutrient calculator" at 3:30 a.m. while waiting for Esther's pukey sheets to tumble in the wash. I am now knowledgeable enough to have an entire eating plan calibrated to my weight, preferred diet, and exercise level. I rocked that plan all day Monday and Tuesday like I was metamorphic. (Ohmylanta, rocked it like a metamorphic?! Oh, geology jokes, I dig you.)

Thankfully, before I got too prideful about my superior eating plan, Ezra has been suffering a seriously high fever for a couple hours now, and I am handling the situation of yet another sleepless night with a whole wheat English muffin and peanut butter consumed about an hour ago. (Because have you ever had a tummy so hungry it hurt? I haven't eaten wheat in who knows how long and decided it was the perfect choice for my "you aren't normally awake at this time and your body is trying to manipulate you into feeding it and you will go ahead and do it because you are an American and you do not negotiate with terrorists instead you give them exactly what they want".)(That is probably seasons four through eight of 24 talking because once President Palmer left office crap went downhill fast.)

Ezra is now tucked snugly on the couch with a Tigger water bottled filled with soy milk (and has moved on to the Winnie the Pooh Heffalump movie) and I have tackled two loads of laundry and a full half an hour of Pinterest. Now that I have accomplished the important items on my to-do list I am free to blog about last night's workout.

I only have one session left with Trainer Mike. Once I finish the whole month I plan to have an assessment post all about Trainer Mike. (It will totally be a Mike vs Kemper smackdown event). Until then know that my time with Mike has been spent mostly on abs and back. This is because I do arms on Monday and legs on Wednesday and I meet with Mike on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so he tries to work other parts of my body. I'm sure he totally loves basing all his training around my workout schedule and this doesn't make me a PITA to him at all.

Last night was a whole new game for us. I missed Monday's workout (because LAUREN HAD HER BABY!!!)(pics soon!) so Mike was free to do whatever the heck he wanted. And? It was hella fun.

I ran a warm up mile on the treadmill and then met Mike. He started me on a quick ab circuit that included 30 seconds of mountain climbers (on towels), 1:30 planks, and 15 medicine ball slams (which are probably one of my most favorite things to do in the history of life). We did that circuit three times.

Then he gave me only one more circuit to do. We were going to do the whole thing three times, resting as I needed.

This is not me. But this is totally what it looked
like last night. Except there was no dog. And I was
 waaaaay sweatier. And my muscles are
slightly less defined.

We started with push ups with rows. Mike has me use the PowerBlock dumbbells for these because they help my wrists. I got in plank position (wide leg) did a push up (which felt more like a tricep push up with the positioning) then alternated a row on each side. (The PowerBlock was set at 15 pounds for each side.) I did that 10 times. We went straight into plie squats with a 25# kettlebell. I could really feel the difference all that heavy squatting has made. Those plie squats weren't a thang.

Next were regular kettlebell swings (@20#), followed by ... box jumps. This was a HUGE milestone, because I've never done box jumps in public before. (Unless you count jumping the benches at the park.) I was so nervous! I did that whole Biggest Loser pre-jump sike-out move twice before I just took a deep breath and just went for it. After my first set Mike raised the height by a few inches. It got so much easier (emotionally) the second and third round.

This *is* what I look like while working the ropes.
Like my hair is all shiny and clean and flows
behind me as you can see above. It definitely
doesn't cling to my head in a mom ponytail while
 sweat drips off the ends and onto my neck
and into my eyes. Because that would be
decidedly not hot.

We followed box jumps with the ropes. Trainer Mike does this totally cute move where he tells me to "GO!" and then pretends to look at the clock so I can do 30 seconds but really he gets distracted by the cute girl doing back extensions on the machine in front of him and makes me do 45 seconds because "you looked like you could keep going." Haha, he's such a joker.

After the ropes was a cool down move of a minute of step ups before we repeated the whole circuit twice more. I really had a blast with this workout. It was a nice break from heavy weights but also just kept going, so I never got bored. I was challenged physically by the push ups and mentally by the box jumps. After all the circuits I ran a cool down mile. Then I came home and ate carbs, so yeah, a day that finishes with a great workout and allthechickenandRICE is a good day.

Now I'm going to go tend to my sweet baby boy (who is now on his third movie of the day - Toy Story at 6:30 a.m. for those of you keeping track)(and who could really care less about my "tending" unless it's to bring him more drinks and the occasional back rub). The girlies will be getting up in another half an hour and the day "officially" begins again.

*sigh*

Is it wrong that I'm already dreaming about a nice arm workout and HIIT treadmill run tonight? Don't answer that.

Just Call Me Sasquatch

Don't count your chickens, y'all.

I was so one hundred percent sure I was going to hit goal at my weigh-in that I almost scheduled my reward hair and eyebrow appointment on Monday morning nine hours before my actual weigh in. I thought, "Why wait until Tuesday to schedule the appointment I am surely going to earn?" Because of course I was going to lose .7 of a pound and hit goal. I've lost weight every single week of this challenge (the exception being the major pigout back in March one minor deviation from the plan Kemper gave me where I ate Mexican food until I burst and gained .5 pounds that week). This week was no different than any other week that resulted in a LOSS. I was really faithful to my eating plan and even PR'd some of my lifting weights. If anything I was much more committed because I need my eyebrows done so badly and I am so close to the prize.

But sometimes the scale is not your friend.

The good news? I went from 26.1% body fat down to 24.4% body fat which is the lowest I've been in my entire adult life. I'm officially not obese as far as The Internet Medical Community and Google are concerned. But my actual weight? It freaking went up. I actually gained .2 of a pound (I know, someone shoot me while I play my whiny violin here). So this week? I weighed in at 149.9 with a body fat percentage of 24.4%. Dude. Seriously. Just call me Sasquatch Eyebrows.

This Saturday is the official end of the challenge. I have one more chance to reach goal during the challenge. BRING IT FREAKING ON, SCALE. Lifetime Fitness is holding a raffle for everyone who shows up for the final weigh in and the prize is one month of personal training. That's eight sessions with a personal trainer. They are giving away four of these bad boys and I really really really want one. I'll let you know if my pathetic pleading face gets me more entries.

Other News of Vital Importance

24: Live Another Day - Meh. Brian and I don't sit and watch that much television, so after two whole hours of sitting on the couch I was suffering. And by suffering I mean I was struggling to stay awake while Brian jabbed me every few minutes and said, "You're not asleep, are you?"

My Master Plan to Infiltrate the Early Morning Meatheads - Phase One went fairly well. This morning was leg day, and while I'm waiting for Kemper to teach me to squat with the Olympic bar, today I managed to get out the Little Bar (technical term, I'm sure) and some weights and squat heavier than I ever have before. My main goal was to not fall over because balance has never been a great friend to me and I totally met *that* goal.

While I was over in the Meathead section, I noticed one of the nicer meatheads doing cleans while my Booty Boyfriend did deadlifts next to him. I have been studying cleans recently with Elliott Hulse and am worried about hurting my wrists. I watched him during my leg press set and finally went over and asked about where to hold the weight during cleans. (Yes, I was totally ready for another "Are you looking at my butt?" exchange.)(But this time I was prepared.)(This is mainly because one of my Sister Wives is hilarious and gave me the most inappropriate line of all times which I will never ever be able to speak in the moment but at least gives me courage knowing a comeback is handy if I ever need it.)

The Nice Meathead lived up to his name and explained all about where to hold the weight. My Booty Boyfriend chimed in twice during our conversation about cleans and each time made a completely relevant joke about mopping. Because any girl that cleans is sure to be using a mop.

He's a charmer, that one.

So phase one ended with two of the meatheads who have pretended I'm invisible for two months looking at me and not through me and giving me helpful and encouraging advice, and one meathead still trying to (*insert sarcasm font*) win my heart.

I think Phase One was a success.

JACK.IS.BACK

So today I was going to write this super informative and helpful post about lifting and diet because I felt I owed it to everyone to write something of substance since I was MIA Friday.

But.

My weekend was pretty awesome. Busy awesome. Friday night was Mom Busy (a.k.a. filled with Saturday errands because Saturday was filled with other happenings), Saturday was an all day women's retreat -without any kids!- where I got to spend tons of time with Sister Wife Rose and eat homemade guacamole, and Saturday night filled with bath time, laundry, and back episodes of the Blacklist. Sunday was the gym, church, baseball, working over at our rental house (which we are renaming the "Soon To Be Sold house"), and food prep while watching Ocean's Eleven on network television. (I am always impressed with the way they recreate the naughty words when they edit a movie for television. When I watch it's like a brainteaser for decoding swears.)

But the real reason there is no substantive post is seriously, can anyone even pretend to pay attention to anything today when I know we are all just counting down to Jack Bauer's return tonight on 24: Live Another Day?

(From just the previews I have concluded that my girl crush on Chloe is still well founded. Because not only is she still "Chloe", she has a tough girl look going on as well, which completely works for her.)(In unrelated news, I've composed my letter to Dirk Vermin from Bad Ink pleading my case for a tattoo redesign. As cool as it is, I really don't want to go the rest of my life with a broccoli tattoo in the middle of my back.)(Also, I've been searching Pinterest for haircuts.)(Because I'm .7 of a pound away from earning a haircut and eyebrow wax.)(For the sake of all humanity, pray I get it today. The Sasquatch Eyebrow look went out with crocs and socks but I am currently rocking it hardcore.)(Thank God for bangs.)

So friends, in conclusion, stay strong. 8:00 p.m. will come soon enough.

The (J-Lo-less) Wedding Planner

Conversation with 9 year old Eve:

"Mama, when I grow up and get married I want to dress all my bridesmaids up as Secret Service Men.  And my flower girl will have a gun and it will shoot flowers.  My ring bearer will have a briefcase that the rings are in, handcuffed to his wrist.  I'm going to dress like a spy, because I'll probably be coming back from a mission.  Of course there will be a stunt show."

Of course there will be a stunt show.

I'm sure we can all agree that as a mother I am doing something right.

Because Tampering With the Mail is a Federal Offense

Sometimes you're just hanging out, sitting in your minivan, not even *thinking* about committing a crime, and then your hand gets stuck in the drive up mail chute at the post office.

(I might interject briefly that you are not so fat that your hand gets stuck, but you probably are wearing a wrist brace from last night's set of pushups which were painful, and not in a "Work it, G.I. Jane" sort of way. It was more "Your wrist might possibly snap in two if you continue" sort of way. So you made yourself do seventeen, primarily because it's what a Navy Seal would have done, minus 200.)

So, hand stuck firmly in the mail chute. You might panic at this point. After all, here you are trapped in a federal post office mail chute, all suspicious like, one arm reaching inside for far passed any polite time frame. There are no cars behind you yet, but anyone could see you and call the cops because tampering with the mail is a federal offense, dude. To any passersby you could be stealing rent checks, or disposing of your unfinished slurpee, or unleashing a cat or ANTHRAX - WHO COULD FORGET ANTHRAX?!?! In fact, Jack Bauer is probably already onto you. (But only seasons 1-5ish Jack Bauer, because we can all agree that seasons 6+ were a complete.waste.of.time.)

You have to escape. You can't go to prison. You have a husband. You have children. You don't even *like* bologna. (In fact, you take a second in Mommy Judgement and SuperiorityVille to congratulate yourself that your children don't eat bologna. This congrats will be diverted by the memory of a recent lunch where your children dined exclusively on m&m's and cheese nips.) Children need their mothers. And not in prison.

You come up with a plan reminiscent of James Franco in 127 Hours (because you are that committed to staying out of prison), minus the drinking your own pee part (because you are not that committed to staying out of prison). But the blood would surely lead to you, especially because you have a pretty rare blood type and DNA testing is kind of specific. The next obvious part of the plan is to employ vampires to clean up the blood but remember they don't exist (except for Edward and the rest of the Cullens - don't spoil it for the kids, kay?) So, in a moment of brilliance you think, "LEECHES! Leeches TOTALLY exist!"

You are trapped inside this minivan and mail chute. Thankfully, you have four children with you, three of whom routinely find disgusting nature like stuff outside and bring it two inches from your nose for you to examine. There is a pond a half mile away. You could send them to gather some leeches ...

...but then they would be ACCESSORIES and they would go to jail.

At this point you will tug really hard in desperation, and your hand will come free.

This entire thought sequence will take place in approximately SEVEN SECONDS. So, go you for your quick and logical problem solving ability.