I was looking forward through my calendar when I saw a February entry that said “order preying mantis”.  I chuckled because I bought my daughter a preying mantis habitat to hatch eggs and watch them grow.    By the time I ordered the habitat, the eggs weren’t available.  I have a coupon to order them later this month. 

There are all sorts of rules about when to order, how many to keep in the cage at a time, there is some rule about the number of mantis that allowed in the cage at a time.  I’ll study a little more before we reach the date. 

Last spring I ordered caterpillars to raise and release as butterflies.   The kids loved the experience and were thrilled when they saw how much the worms grew each day.  When they turned to chrysalis it was so cool and then to actually watch the butterflies hatch was wonderful.  We decided to make a big deal about releasing them and do it on my birthday.  The weather was on the warm side and it seemed the perfect day to let our new winged friends go.  My kids and some other neighborhood children watched as we let the first of them go.  Up, Up, Up, she flew.  We watched as she made her ascent.  All of a sudden from the park across the street came a red breasted robin who chased and chomped that butterfly in one bite.  The shrieks from the children and adults were heard through the entire neighborhood.  Releasing the rest of the butterflies was more of a fearful act after that.  To this day when my daughter sees a robin, she points him out and says, “Mommy, that bwird over dere, he ate my butterfwy.”

Hmmm, I wonder what we’ll see the mantises eat?

I have always housed a bit of envy for tight knit little neighborhoods where people spend time together, raising children, eating and drinking together.  I guess I imagine the smalls subdivisions of my youth with the swimming pools their center (in which I never lived).  Last summer I was pleasantly surprised when hundreds of my closest neighbors enjoyed a movie in the park across the street.  That evening, I snuck out with a few fellow parents for a mini spontaneous wine tasting.  The idea of a travelling appetizer and drinks evening was born.  5 homes in five hours.  Little bites and cocktails at each one.  Fellow blogger and neighbor Virtual Farm Girl blogged about the evening already and is going to compile a list of the recipes.   The food was amazing. 

I feel incredibly fortunate to have such talented drinking friends.  Our kids got along fabulously and so did the grownups.  My husband passed out a 10 and I was right behind him.  I hurt so much the following day, but what a great night.  I would kill for the empanadas and soup right now.

It turns out I really hurt my hamstring.  Not saying I am out of this forever, but for this session, the Derby isn’t for me.  I think the best idea is to actually learn how to skate again.  The idea of falling again and hurting the leg even more really forced me to question my resolve.  I’m out for now.  What next?  Who knows, but I can’t imagine it won’t be exciting.

Turns out knee pads were the least of my worries.  I have experienced pain and embarrassment in my life.  Ask pretty much anyone who knows me and they have either witnessed it or have heard about it.  Last night, I was more embarrassed than I have been since I learned that I was calling my best Thai friend “vagina” because I was saying her name with the wrong tone.

Here is an excerpt from the Park District bulletin that got me into this situation.  I have underlined the points that pertain to me.

Derby Lite has created a new version of its recreational league that makes it easy for any woman whether an avid skater or not on wheels since middle school, an athlete or a couch potato to get her exercise in for the week and have a great time doing it. No experience required. Ladies build core strength, endurance, balance, cardio, agility, flexibility and upper body strength, while also building confidence, friendships and a sense of community.

Here is my translation:

Derby Lite has created a new torture method that is both recreational and impossible.  If you are an avid skater come on board.  If you haven’t skated since middle school, you don’t stand a frigging chance because we’re going to work your ass off so hard, you won’t be able to sit when you get home.  An athlete may make it.  A couch potato will spend most of her time on the floor trying to balance with her non existent core to get up off of the floor.  You will be flexible.  If not, you will land in such a position that you will finally  be able to do the splits you couldn’t do in elementary school gymnastics.  Confidence?  Every ounce of confidence will fly out the door?

Do you remember when Tom Cruise jumped down the stairs in Risky Business?  You know, that position with one leg straight out, one leg bent with a skate on its foot.  I landed like that on the floor last night.  I actually believe I heard my muscle pop.  I LANDED like this folks.  HARD.

Imagine the guy in the photo as me, only put a skate on his left leg and have him flat on the ground with the other leg just off to the side. Got it?

This was the hardest workout I have had in years.  I have no core strength, that is something I am going to start to work on again tomorrow!  I leave you with the quote of the day.  A young whipper snapper in class came up to me and said “Ma’am?  I think you are very brave to be doing this.”  Brave?  No.  Brain damaged?  Perhaps.  I can imagine a day when it will be fun.  Till then it was fun in a root canal sort of way.  I will be back though.   Next time I’ll be stronger and I’ll keep track of how many times I fall.  Till then!

I go through different spurts with sleep.  Not quite sure what the problems are, but they range from not being able to sleep at all, to having very bizarre and realistic dreams.  I’ll never forget during GW Bush campaign for president #1, I woke up in the middle of the night coughing and coughing and felt like I was going to throw up.  My husband asked what was wrong and I declared that “they are making me swallow the republican blanket.”  Oh how true that ended up being for 8 years.  Since then I have had a variety of strange dreams that seem quite real to me.  A few nights ago I swore that someone broke my fingers in the night and I woke up screaming about it to my husband.  My fear is that I am developing the same disorder that my mother has.  We find it difficult to sleep in the same house with her because she screams and yells at people all through the night.  One night recently my father woke up to see her sitting on the edge of the bed one minute and then jumping off the bed onto the floor the next.  My dad also tells the story about how one night it seemed as if she might actually start hitting him.  No sooner than he had the thought than she started trying to hit him.  This American Life had an episode a while back called Fear of Sleep.  People discusses all types of issues with bedbugs, roaches and other things that people generally don’t want to think about.  In this episode, Mike Birbiglia tells of his sleepwalking and sleep problems cut from his one man show “Sleepwalk with Me“.  I laugh so hard I cry when I listen to this.  If you have some time in the recent weeks to listen for free on your computer, please do.  This is funny stuff.  I hope I don’t end up needing a sleepingbag some day.

I haven’t been on skates since college.  One afternoon during finals week, some girlfriends and I were stressed.  I called around to some local skate rinks only to find that they were all closed.  I finally called over to a rink in Henderson, KY just across the state line and lo and behold, the good people at Skateway USA let the 5 of us skate for free that afternoon.  So yesterday, to carry on the tradition of skating that was started 2 decades ago, I decided to sign up for roller derby lite.  I have no idea what I am getting myself into.  I bought gear from Sin City Skates online yesterday.  Paid the gazillion dollars to register and am anticipating the first class on the 11th.  What the heck am I thinking?  I don’t even know the rules.

Here is Skateway USA:

After a couple of years of posting to the blog and changes in my life, this is where I am.  This blog is evolving.  Initally I created this to write about my struggles with self loathing and size acceptance.  I viewed myself as an activist for fat people of the word.  While I still struggle to be better (than what?) I have begun to reverse my own ideas of dieting culture.  I am less caught up when people comment on thier own weight, how much they eat and how many pants sizes they drop or gain.   As I have changed, so must the blog.  Evolve with me.  Welcome 2010 with my big happy body.  This is my new Mantra…. 

• I am not what I eat…I’m what I do and what I say.

• I am not how much I weigh or how much I’ve gained or how much I’ve lost, and I’m going to try damn hard not to be embarrassed if the direction doesn’t make me smaller. 

• Changing my shape and size isn’t going to make me happy, however, may make me poor, as I will have to go shopping.

• Having happy thoughts about me, you and the world will make me a better person.

• I respectfully decline to discuss your size, my size, her size or his size in any way…unless it makes you or me laugh and isn’t hurtful to anyone.

• I will eat what I want, and move on—slowly or quickly depending on what I ate.

• Being healthy doesn’t mean being thin.  Being fat doesn’t mean unhealthy.

The other night I was drawn to thoughts of the blog I created and haven’t kept up. Sorry this has been the case. I feel a little guilty writing about this topic since my mantra and much of the content has shifted in the past few months. My attempts at remaining active and healthy have become lame excuses for not working out and eating.  The year hasn’t been a complete loss though.  I have learned some lessons, made some new friends and gained some things (pounds, years and pant sizes)  It’s been a plus one year all around.  Here are a few things I learned this year. 

1. Somtimes, people throw rocks at you.
2. Biking to work is one of the funnest, best ways to excercise. (Now STOP SNOWING!!)
3. You can get bigger than your biggest fat pants.
4. I still get surprised when people call me names, to be specific, ass and bitch.
5. Reconnecting with old friends isn’t always a good thing.  Most time you realize you didn’t have anything in common in the first place.   
6. The Wii Fit is completely ineffective if you never use it.
7. Sometimes mantras have to be rewritten because I can’t get my ass off the couch.
8. I can’t keep my knees together.
9. Midway and O’hare both have Delta…but they fly different places.
10. If I don’t drive them all crazy first, friends and family are the best things I’ve got going for me.

I’ll be ringing in the new year with a bottle of bubbly and some great apps.  Thinking of ways to move it next year.  Till then….Happy New Year to all of you.

I actually believe that plus size women want to wear stylish clothes. I know this is shocking to the world that the big girls would like to wear something that doesn’t look like a table cloth or oversized  Hanes t-shirt dress. We like to look good and feel good in our clothes. I have seen some cute clothes on the racks of stores that ignore my bigness. It seems to me that it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch (no pun intended) to tailor some for the big girl.

A local designer and chic wear specialist told me last week that we (meaning fat girls) don’t buy the clothes. “I couldn’t give the plus sized stuff away.” she said. I would have loved to have been there when she was passing these items out.

I am telling you and the rest of the world. We are dying for the cute clothes, especially in those fabrics you have over there lady Majama.  Make a Rosarito and a Genevieve in my size!! Give me a Cabo or a Quince!!! Give us a try once again. Throw in some yoga pants, leggings and other stuff and we’ll even wear it!!

Maybe we’ll even help you market it!!!!

On my way to work yesterday I got to the top of the stairs from the el blue line.  As I was walking down the street I saw this little bitty bird hopping along.  I don’t usually stop for birds, but I rarely see infant birds on the street downtown.  This one, while not actually cute, looked so out of place and scared.  I watched it as many people passed us by.  Each time he tried to hop into the street, I would shoo him back.  I had a dilema, I couldn’t leave the bird to hop into rush hour traffic, but this looked like a rare bird.  Like maybe a falcon baby.  There are falcon nests in that area of the loop.  Peplexed I was thrilled when a young woman stopped and remarked on my rare baby bird find.  “Wow, you don’t see that every day” she said.  “I know, I know, but I don’t know what to do!”  I expained that there are many people at my work who would know exactly what to do with a baby falcon like this.  If she would wait on the sidewalk and make sure the baby didn’t go into the road, I would run to work, get a box and figure out what to do.  She agreed, halfheartedly and asked me to hurry.  So this big breasted baby bird saver environmental freak ran at top speed to work.  I took the elevator to the 16th floor and frantically began the search for a fellow bird saver.  I found a box and found a guy who knew the phone number of a bird rescue place.  I asked him to call it while I returned to the scene.  I rushed through the lobby, out the doors and around the corner only to find a new man, a hippy dude dressed a bit like Steve Erwin used to dress.  He is talking on the cell phone as I proudly display my cardboard box for the falcon baby.  After a few minutes on the phone, he gets off and with a tiny smirk says, “the baby pigeon thanks you.”

The pigeon population of America increases again…thanks to me.

For those of you curious, a baby pigeon looks nothing like a grown pigeon, though I am told nothing like a baby hawk either.  Here is a photo of a baby pigeon.