<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6748718785398318111</id><updated>2012-01-19T10:23:54.590-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Breaking Up with Ben &amp; Jerry</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6748718785398318111/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Domestic Goddess (In Training)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05342036087073401778</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bhsxqRUxIdY/TxhfnHySbcI/AAAAAAAAAsw/8Q5mDl7Z99k/s220/PC034005.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>18</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6748718785398318111.post-24052738658716846</id><published>2010-08-23T08:31:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-23T08:48:09.941-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mama's Boy</title><content type='html'>So, today I take Will in for his 4 year old physical (a few months late, but who's counting) and discover that he, too, may be facing his very own "Battle of the Bulge."  Ok, in his defense, the dude is as active as active can be, and really... he is not overweight at all.  He is just a big kid... and no, I don't mean that as an "&lt;em&gt;I am big boned&lt;/em&gt;" excuse (&lt;em&gt;although, I really think he and I both are&lt;/em&gt;).  He weighs 52 pounds and is 3 feet 10 inches tall, so he is off the charts for height and weight.  But today the doctor said that we'll have to monitor his weight.... not closely, but just watch it to make sure he becomes an healthy adult.  And why the cause for concern?  Because she can look right and me and say, "because you sure didn't." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, for the first time, I was faced with the fact that my son can suffer because of me.  And not just in the "&lt;em&gt;I will give you something to cry about&lt;/em&gt;" arena.  But, because his genes are working against him.  I am overweight.  Mark is overweight.  Poor, poor Will and Jack.  Knowing that, I work pretty hard to teach them better eating habits than I have.  I buy prepackaged 100 calorie snacks to ensure portion control, and I push healthy snacks like cheese sticks, yogurt and fruit.  More often than not dinner comes from my &lt;em&gt;Healthy Cooking&lt;/em&gt; magazines and always has a fruit or a vegetable as a side.  Our milk is fat free and my dudes don't get soda.  I still cut their juice with water, for God's sake, to try and limit sugar. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That being said... they like candy.  They like sweets.  And while I don't keep them in the house often, we are not a &lt;em&gt;Wife Swap&lt;/em&gt;-bound extremist family either.  Dairy Queen was had on Saturday night and while we haven't eaten them yet, we did buy ice cream sandwiches at the store the other day... just because Will wanted them.  I do buy processed food and their breakfasts, in particular, are often frozen pancakes, pigs in a blanket and sugary cereals.  Their lunches aren't much better in the homemade department.  Jamie Oliver is probably rolling around in his organic garden at the fish sticks, frozen pizza and chicken nuggets in my freezer.  We eat them each once a week, paired with fruit or veggies and a cheese stick... but still... we eat them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, today was the day when I see that even though I thought I was doing well... it isn't good enough.  "Monitor his dairy," she said, "as it is the biggest culprit."  What I heard was, "Failure, failure, failure. FAILURE!"  I see it when I look in the mirror, but now I see it when I look at him, too.  And despite my ever expanding waistline....  thinking about his is worse.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6748718785398318111-24052738658716846?l=breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/feeds/24052738658716846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/2010/08/mamas-boy.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6748718785398318111/posts/default/24052738658716846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6748718785398318111/posts/default/24052738658716846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/2010/08/mamas-boy.html' title='Mama&apos;s Boy'/><author><name>Domestic Goddess (In Training)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05342036087073401778</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bhsxqRUxIdY/TxhfnHySbcI/AAAAAAAAAsw/8Q5mDl7Z99k/s220/PC034005.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6748718785398318111.post-1644674882366575188</id><published>2010-05-18T12:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-18T12:37:59.138-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dude, Where's My Will Power???</title><content type='html'>Ok, seriously, what is wrong with me?  I was going great guns, as my high school friend Bess used to say, and suddenly my train derailed right off the track and into a convenience store filled with lovely Cheetos, crunchy Fritos and even a Rice Krispie treat or two.  Why is it that once you stray, you can never find your way back?  I should have left a breadcrumb trail, but I inhaled every last morsel.  What am I, the Tiger Woods of diets.  Not just one fling, not just one mistress... I have fourteen over a multi-year period.  It's pathetic. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, we went on a road trip to see family in Iowa and of course, I veered.  Someone once said (or posted on Facebook) that getting a salad from McDonald's is like paying a hooker for a hug.  So, I don't do it.  Therefore that weekend turned to crap.  But, I didn't care.  I firmly believe that calories don't count when consumed outside your state of residence.  But, when I got back, I never got back on the treadmill.  I have yet to pour myself a glass of water and what's worse... I think I am actually eating more!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The downside to having Mark here it that I am not totally swamped with kid crap.  Don't get me wrong, that is the upside to having him here too, but I find myself snacking.  I never snack.  When it is just me and the kids there isn't time.  I would wait til dinner and gorge myself (not an approved eating method either) but now I feel like I am eating all day long.  I have time to sit on the couch and eat bon bons.  Ok, I don't have bon bons, but I have found that trail mix makes a fine substitute.  Some in the alcohol addiction world would say that identifying the problem is the first step, but who is going to put a gun to my head and make me take the others?  Because right now I can see that needs to be done, but I can't get my ass off the couch to do it.  HELP!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6748718785398318111-1644674882366575188?l=breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/feeds/1644674882366575188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/2010/05/dude-wheres-my-will-power.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6748718785398318111/posts/default/1644674882366575188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6748718785398318111/posts/default/1644674882366575188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/2010/05/dude-wheres-my-will-power.html' title='Dude, Where&apos;s My Will Power???'/><author><name>Domestic Goddess (In Training)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05342036087073401778</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bhsxqRUxIdY/TxhfnHySbcI/AAAAAAAAAsw/8Q5mDl7Z99k/s220/PC034005.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6748718785398318111.post-6158924780804022554</id><published>2010-05-05T07:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-05T07:32:46.054-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dude, Where's My Car?</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Food Journal:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Breakfast:  &lt;em&gt;Half a peanut butter and jelly on whole wheat bread.  At least, Mark said there was PB&amp;amp;J, I couldn't really taste it.  Apparently he was trying to rally from &lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://lovelaughslice.blogspot.com/2010/05/downside-to-unemployment.html"&gt;&lt;em&gt;this &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt; incident the day before.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lunch:  &lt;em&gt;Two slices of sausage and pepperoni pizza and carrot sticks&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snack:  &lt;em&gt;Grapes.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snack Number 2:  &lt;em&gt;Oops.  100 calorie snack bag of chocolate chip cookies.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dinner:  &lt;em&gt;Tiny amount of soup bowl stuffed cabbage.  Totally healthy dinner, but so damn spicy I couldn't eat it, so tiny portion due to burnt taste buds not self control.  Followed with one slice of whole wheat bread and peanut butter smear.  This smear smeared by me, so I could actually taste it.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snack:  &lt;em&gt;Small Choco Cherry Love Blizzard from Dairy Queen.  Double oops.  But....  could have been worse, and was a special occasion blizzard (or so I justify to myself).&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Exercise Journal:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30 minutes on Professional Trainer Setting 1 on my treadmill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dude, Where's My Car?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, as I mentioned above, I treadmilled yesterday.  It was my first time, and I don't really know how to work the buttons.  Lots of up and down arrows, lots of red dots in lines and lots of number point number displays.  What are we upping and downing?  What are we dotting?  And what point what means what???  So, at first, I did about 10 minutes of walking at a decent pace on a flat surface.  Then I found the program settings. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woo hoo!  Program 1.  I walk for a couple more minutes flat and even... then BAM!  I was run-ning.  (I want to type that like Forest Gump says it, but that is hard to do).  DOWN ARROW!  DOWN ARROW!  Ok, swift pace, walking flat.  Feeling the burn a little.  Mostly proud that this exercise deal is not that tough.  Suddenly I feel like I am flying.  Wait....  I am not flying...  I am suddenly raising up in the air.  I am not walking flat anymore, I am walking up a slight hill.  AHHHHHH!!!  RUNNING AGAIN!!!!  DOWN ARROW!!!! DOWN ARROW!!!!  Ok, walking at a swift pace up a slight hill.  Again, not too bad.  In fact, able to hold a telephone conversation while walking up the...      MOUNTAIN!  I AM NOW CLIMBING FREAKING PIKE'S PEAK!!!  Suddenly Mt. KillaLYNNjaro has appeared in my bedroom.  AND I AM RUNNING UP IT!  DOWN ARROW!!!  DOWN ARROW!!!!   Ok...  brisk walk up steep hill.  Sweating now.  Breathing is harder now.  Phone conversation much harder now.  Watching the clock for my thirty minutes to be up much closer now.  And, then I'm done. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work out number one, check.  Heart still beating, check.  Lungs still functioning, check.  Legs turned to jelly, check.  Next time I need to climb a mountain, I'm bringing my car! CHECK!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6748718785398318111-6158924780804022554?l=breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/feeds/6158924780804022554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/2010/05/dude-wheres-my-car.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6748718785398318111/posts/default/6158924780804022554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6748718785398318111/posts/default/6158924780804022554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/2010/05/dude-wheres-my-car.html' title='Dude, Where&apos;s My Car?'/><author><name>Domestic Goddess (In Training)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05342036087073401778</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bhsxqRUxIdY/TxhfnHySbcI/AAAAAAAAAsw/8Q5mDl7Z99k/s220/PC034005.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6748718785398318111.post-1444667492110985809</id><published>2010-05-03T12:39:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-03T13:52:31.001-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Same Fat Size... Same Fat Diet...</title><content type='html'>OMG! I haven't written or dieted since... well... MONTHS ago. I gave up and I gave up good. I stopped any and all moratoriums on junk and just went for it. You know that saying "go big or go home?" Well, I am big and I am at home. But, here is the good news. Mark lost his job! I know, how is that good news? Well, in this case yes... because we are going to be too broke to be fat!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a Chris Rock comedy sketch where he talks about how America is the only country in the world that gets to be fat. Other countries are too poor for it! They are lucky to be able to afford some rice and a bean or two. We can afford two all beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles, onions on a sesame bun. Plus fries and a coke. Yum. But, not my family of five. It is time to tighten our belts, both our figurative belt on our budget and our literal belts on our waists.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No more late night Taco Bell runs. No more "I don't want to cook our grilled chicken so let's have Fazoli's heart attack inducing ravioli and coronary bi pass bread sticks." And, most of all... no more ice cream pints just because it was a bad day, or just because I am sick, or just because it's Tuesday. When I go out with the girls I will eat at home first! When I pick Will up from school, we will eat at home not Sonic drive thru. A play place will go back to being an outdoor playground, instead of a plastic germ farm attached to a fat food shack. And yes, I realize that I put fat food and not fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, today is the first day of the rest of my impoverished life. Sure, Mark will be employed again some day. SOON! I hope! Please!  But, this is a lesson learned regardless. The money we spend on food is insane and our clothing size is equally worrisome. Weigh in number one will be on Monday, and without extra dough for cookie dough, it ought to go well.  After all, what better reason is there to diet but poverty!?!?!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6748718785398318111-1444667492110985809?l=breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/feeds/1444667492110985809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/2010/05/same-fat-size-same-fat-diet.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6748718785398318111/posts/default/1444667492110985809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6748718785398318111/posts/default/1444667492110985809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/2010/05/same-fat-size-same-fat-diet.html' title='Same Fat Size... Same Fat Diet...'/><author><name>Domestic Goddess (In Training)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05342036087073401778</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bhsxqRUxIdY/TxhfnHySbcI/AAAAAAAAAsw/8Q5mDl7Z99k/s220/PC034005.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6748718785398318111.post-7772625318805610818</id><published>2009-11-23T12:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-23T12:26:45.326-08:00</updated><title type='text'>We got back together...</title><content type='html'>I know, I know.  I know exactly what you are going to say.  &lt;em&gt;He's not good for you&lt;/em&gt;...  &lt;em&gt;He will just hurt you in the end (the rear end)&lt;/em&gt;...  I should &lt;em&gt;be strong enough to just walk away&lt;/em&gt;.  But, I'm not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a diet blog failure.  Ben, Jerry and I have met up a couple times since the initial breakup.  But, it's even worse than that.  I am also seeing Taco Bell and have a little affair going with Perkins leftover Pumpkin Cream Pie.  Really... I am juggling that many.  I have whored myself around the entire junk food aisle, spent time with a bacon cheeseburger or two, entertained a million french fries, don't get me started on my one night stand with movie theater popcorn (plus butter) and I single handedly made love to an entire cru d ete platter on Saturday (and yes, while they are veggies, it still doesn't count when they are skinny dipping in enough ranch to cover the Titanic). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told myself that I would come back to my senses and get back on the wagon, but you know what?  I haven't yet.  Today was going to be my day.  The treadmill is working again, the shoulder injury only hurts at night, I am not taking pills to sleep anymore, and Monday is a perfect day to start.  But, then I had chicken teriyaki meatballs for breakfast (and let's just interject that it took me longer to Google the word and spell it correctly on this post than it did to actually eat the entire plateful) and I am eyeing another roll around with the Pumpkin Cream pie. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, though.  I hear what you're saying even before you say it.  I know that I have no business doing these dirty deeds, but I can't get my mindset back in diet mode.  Help!  I am self destructing and it's chocolate flavored (and pumpkin.... and salty.... and ketchupy...)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6748718785398318111-7772625318805610818?l=breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/feeds/7772625318805610818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/2009/11/we-got-back-together.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6748718785398318111/posts/default/7772625318805610818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6748718785398318111/posts/default/7772625318805610818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/2009/11/we-got-back-together.html' title='We got back together...'/><author><name>Domestic Goddess (In Training)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05342036087073401778</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bhsxqRUxIdY/TxhfnHySbcI/AAAAAAAAAsw/8Q5mDl7Z99k/s220/PC034005.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6748718785398318111.post-8645252019966160595</id><published>2009-10-28T10:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-28T11:07:39.361-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A long, long weigh to go...</title><content type='html'>Forgive me oh readers, for I have sinned.  It has been several days since my last post and I can tell you why.  I gave up.  I didn't diet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could sit here and blame the shoulder pain, which is part of it, and then I can blame the feeling that once you go off track it is just easier to stay there, or I can even blame hormones.  I have been a crabby patty these last few days and eating my baggie of almonds just pissed me off.  I wanted something else instead... like lasagna!  I have to eat to take a pain pill, which I cannot sleep without, and by the end of the day I don't want a salad or a sandwich thin with light tuna.  Yo quiero Taco Bell... so yo ate it.  A  lot.  So, I find myself on a Wednesday Weigh In not going down, but instead, going up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not exercising. I am not playing outside much. I am sitting on a couch feeling sorry for myself because every inch my arm moves feels like it's being ripped apart.  And, then I eat something.  Even today, I had a fine breakfast and weighed in, vowing to do a better job.  And then I took the boys to the store to buy some groceries for a chili cook off at Mark's work tomorrow, and by the time we were heading home... I stopped at Burger King for lunch.  Initially it was only for the boys, but the idea of bringing them in the house, unpacking groceries, ugh... I had a fried chicken sandwich value meal with french fries and a Diet Coke.  I want to say that I am going back on track, but I feel like my train is veering out of control and Harrison Ford is about to jump off before it explodes.  Jump, Harrison, jump, because Calista Flockhart I am not.  So, without futher ado, here are my results.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Weight:  Up 2 pounds.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Total Lost:  5 pounds.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Pounds needed to reach first goal:  25.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Crap.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6748718785398318111-8645252019966160595?l=breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/feeds/8645252019966160595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/2009/10/long-long-weigh-to-go.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6748718785398318111/posts/default/8645252019966160595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6748718785398318111/posts/default/8645252019966160595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/2009/10/long-long-weigh-to-go.html' title='A long, long weigh to go...'/><author><name>Domestic Goddess (In Training)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05342036087073401778</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bhsxqRUxIdY/TxhfnHySbcI/AAAAAAAAAsw/8Q5mDl7Z99k/s220/PC034005.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6748718785398318111.post-1187746560089713809</id><published>2009-10-23T06:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-23T06:55:30.544-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mayday... mayday!!!!</title><content type='html'>Crash alert, crash alert... attention tower, we are going down in flames. Emergency personnel to the runway, stat! &lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 140px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 105px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395792717686026146" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fQ30YxgeUaQ/SuG043tQr6I/AAAAAAAAAe4/fT81RhM2_Ag/s320/plane.jpg" /&gt;Yesterday I was AWFUL. I completely let go of any attempts to diet... and not because I wanted to... but because I just didn't have it in me to care.  I found myself completely ambivalent about anything and everything diet related... which is surprising coming off a 7 pound loss.  It's because I injured my shoulder and the pain is just amazing. And, let me just interject that in my personal opinion... I am no sissy.  I can play with pain, but it hurts.  It HURTS!!!  A lot. And in dealing with my ouchie, I sunk into a pit of despair. I ate a normal breakfast, but at lunch I just didn't have it in me to make tuna or something healthy. I nuked leftover Chinese noodles and ate them straight from the container. When I wanted a snack, I didn't care about getting something healthy. I ate corn chips... and potato chips... and a nut and chocolate trail mix. Yep, I hoovered in the pantry's contents like it was going out of style. And, I don't even care for potato chips or corn chips.  I ate because my arm hurts.  Who does that?  Then, I cooked my family a healthy whole wheat pasta dinner with turkey sausage and veggies... and personally opted for a bacon cheeseburger (with mayo) and fries (dipped in Ranch dressing). And at bedtime, I ignored the healthy Fit and Active ice cream treats in the freezer and went for the thick chocolate covered drumstick instead. Two of them. Thank god there isn't a Baskin Robbins around here, or I would have robbed them of 30 of their flavors. (I don't like Rocky Road). I don't know how a sore arm translates into "screw my diet" but it did... LOUD and CLEAR.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's right... My name is Lynn and I'm a depression eater. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6748718785398318111-1187746560089713809?l=breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/feeds/1187746560089713809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/2009/10/mayday-mayday.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6748718785398318111/posts/default/1187746560089713809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6748718785398318111/posts/default/1187746560089713809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/2009/10/mayday-mayday.html' title='Mayday... mayday!!!!'/><author><name>Domestic Goddess (In Training)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05342036087073401778</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bhsxqRUxIdY/TxhfnHySbcI/AAAAAAAAAsw/8Q5mDl7Z99k/s220/PC034005.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fQ30YxgeUaQ/SuG043tQr6I/AAAAAAAAAe4/fT81RhM2_Ag/s72-c/plane.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6748718785398318111.post-6818460965409860503</id><published>2009-10-21T09:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-21T09:34:19.211-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Weigh to Go!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Second week weigh in, and I was totally surprised. I actually lost. Admittedly, my weekend wasn't great and Monday and Tuesday were only marginally better. Apparently this goes to show how completely craptastic my diet used to be. I can eat marginally better and still lose weight. This gut check (literally, checked out the size of my gut) has gotten me back and track. I like losing. I want to be a loser. Diet back in action.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Lost: 3 pounds.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Total loss: 7&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Pounds left to meet first goal: 23&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 258px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395092281106788290" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fQ30YxgeUaQ/St832GHSb8I/AAAAAAAAAew/MVl8xfcw0I0/s320/cow.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6748718785398318111-6818460965409860503?l=breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/feeds/6818460965409860503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/2009/10/weigh-to-go_21.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6748718785398318111/posts/default/6818460965409860503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6748718785398318111/posts/default/6818460965409860503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/2009/10/weigh-to-go_21.html' title='Weigh to Go!!!'/><author><name>Domestic Goddess (In Training)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05342036087073401778</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bhsxqRUxIdY/TxhfnHySbcI/AAAAAAAAAsw/8Q5mDl7Z99k/s220/PC034005.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fQ30YxgeUaQ/St832GHSb8I/AAAAAAAAAew/MVl8xfcw0I0/s72-c/cow.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6748718785398318111.post-6028559318727190522</id><published>2009-10-19T07:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-19T07:58:00.410-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Weekend O'Failure</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Weekend's Lack of Success:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ate Saturday:  Everything in sight.&lt;br /&gt;Breakfast:  Blah blah blah... ate cardboard breakfast.  Fine.&lt;br /&gt;Lunch:  Subway, footer.  Oops.  Chocolate chip cookie.  Double oops.&lt;br /&gt;Dinner:  Chinese.  Lots of it.  Triple oops.&lt;br /&gt;Snack:  Don't remember...  all part of food coma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ate Sunday:  Not much better.&lt;br /&gt;Breakfast again:  cereal. Yay for me... trying to rebound.&lt;br /&gt;Lunch:  Chinese.  Not huge portions, but smaller portions of spare ribs and fried rice, pretty much described as BBQ fat chunks and starch fried in fat with fat chunks mixed in.&lt;br /&gt;Dinner:  Turkey, potatoes, turkey, potatoes, rolls, potatoes, and turkey.  With some butter.  Yum.   Oh, and with gravy.  Double yum.  Millions of oopses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Weekend O'Failure:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't really know what went wrong this weekend, but my God, did it go wrong.  I didn't set out to stop dieting, but it just happened.  It started at the hair salon on Saturday morning and I was dead tired.  I don't know why, but I could barely keep my eyes open.  So, I went the soda machine.  Ugh... Pepsi.  I hate Pepsi.  Any other time, I drink diet colas.  Always have.  But, I hate Diet Pepsi.  So, I decided I could take one foray into the non-diet world and go with a Mountain Dew.  Sacrifices had to be made to not appear appear to be narcoleptic!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, I had a horrible time at Walgreen's trying to get flu shots for me and Tabbi.  Tabbi acted like the amazing 10 year old toddler and the wait took forever.  When I finally got home after spending an hour and a half seeking salvation from the flu...  I was hungry and crabby.  I ate my Subway in one bite, and then... I did it.  I ate the cookie.  Then, fast forward to dinner and Mark wants Chinese.  At that point I had spent Friday cleaning the entire house, and Saturday either waiting for flu vaccines  or cleaning out the garage.  Screw diet.  I ate Chinese.  And ate it and ate it and ate it.  And Sunday, I ate it again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't set out to go off diet, but somehow on my busy weekend, I did.  It no longer hit anywhere on my priority list.  The good news is that I was totally productive and that equals exercise. I think I sat down for a grand total of 30 seconds total from Friday night to now... so I am not too upset about it.  But, it is interesting that at my first busy moment, the diet disappearing and was replaced with convenience.  But, as they say in AA, take it one day at a time, and today so far, has been a good day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6748718785398318111-6028559318727190522?l=breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/feeds/6028559318727190522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/2009/10/weekend-ofailure.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6748718785398318111/posts/default/6028559318727190522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6748718785398318111/posts/default/6028559318727190522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/2009/10/weekend-ofailure.html' title='Weekend O&apos;Failure'/><author><name>Domestic Goddess (In Training)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05342036087073401778</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bhsxqRUxIdY/TxhfnHySbcI/AAAAAAAAAsw/8Q5mDl7Z99k/s220/PC034005.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6748718785398318111.post-7156170817162864188</id><published>2009-10-16T09:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-16T10:03:53.461-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Email is Out to Get Me!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Yesterday's Success:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ate:&lt;br /&gt;Breakfast:  Half a bowl of baked apples with a squirt of light Cool Whip.  (Yeah, I know...but Will ate most of it.  I swear).&lt;br /&gt;Lunch:  Tuna (in water) with a tablespoon of Light Miracle Whip on a sandwich thin.&lt;br /&gt;Snack:  2 cups light popcorn.&lt;br /&gt;Dinner:  Two servings Panama Pork Stew (pork, green beans, corn, sweet potatoes, onion and diced tomatoes) and 1 crescent roll.&lt;br /&gt;Snack:  1 snack pack of almonds.  Weight Watchers ice cream cone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My Email is Out to Get Me!!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get so excited when I see my little yellow envelope with the star burst on my computer screen.  No matter what I am doing, I stop and check my mail.  Maybe it's because I am home alone with two kids and crave adult conversation, or maybe it's the mystery of what might lay ahead... either way, I love it.  I sneak peaks at my desktop all day long just waiting to see that little graphic appear.  Sometimes it is a Facebook message, sometimes it's a blog comment, sometimes it's an email from a friend, lots of times it's junk and I am sadly disappointed.  But, even if it does turn out to be nothing... I still get a little thrill the next time it shows up.  Until now.  Now, I realize that it could be something sent to derail my recent "de-heifering" progress.  Now... it might be Domino's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Domino's sends me emails &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;all the time&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.  They e-stalk me and ply me with notification of fresh baked sandwiches, BBQ chicken pizza hot and ready to be delivered, cinna stix fresh from the oven and dripping with gooey icing.  They are downright evil.  And I am not sure how they do this... clearly some sort of  stomach monitoring device implanted from some past pizza I've eaten... because they spam me right when my tummy is growling it's loudest.  The email laughs at me and waits for me to ponder.... one pizza won't ruin everything, right?  I can give in to cravings sometimes, right?  NO!  Sometimes would turn into EVERY STINKING DAY.  Then, what's the point of avoiding my true loves Ben and Jerry if I am going to cheat on them with the pizza delivery guy.  From this point on, I am going to have to reserve checking my email for moments when I am completely sated.  No more growling tummy on the computer.  Ha!  Take that Domino's!  Wait... the envelope just appeared.  And I am hungry.  It's them!!!  RUN!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6748718785398318111-7156170817162864188?l=breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/feeds/7156170817162864188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/2009/10/my-email-is-out-to-get-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6748718785398318111/posts/default/7156170817162864188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6748718785398318111/posts/default/7156170817162864188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/2009/10/my-email-is-out-to-get-me.html' title='My Email is Out to Get Me!!!'/><author><name>Domestic Goddess (In Training)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05342036087073401778</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bhsxqRUxIdY/TxhfnHySbcI/AAAAAAAAAsw/8Q5mDl7Z99k/s220/PC034005.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6748718785398318111.post-7842379747399644280</id><published>2009-10-15T10:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T10:55:52.632-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Resistance is futile...</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Yesterday's Success:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ate:&lt;br /&gt;Breakfast:  Bowl of Raisin Bran with Granola and skim milk.  Half of a banana.&lt;br /&gt;Lunch:  Fit and Active Chicken Noodle Soup.&lt;br /&gt;Snack:  Fiber One Peanut and Oats bar.  Half an apple.&lt;br /&gt;Dinner:  One serving whole grain rotini in a drizzle of olive oil and sprinkle of Parmesan cheese.  4 oz. grilled salmon fillet.  1 piece fat injected garlic bread.&lt;br /&gt;Snack:  1 slice homemade apple pie with a squirt of light Cool Whip.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exercise:  Does doing 400 loads of laundry count?  No?  Then none.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Resistance is futile...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How in the name of Richard Simmons are you supposed to avoid eating when you have children?  We have a candy supply that rivals a Brach's factory (&lt;em&gt;I don't buy it... it just somehow magippears in my pantry&lt;/em&gt;) and last night Will wanted to make an apple pie.  Now, normally I would laugh in his face, as I clearly am not the Momunist type (&lt;em&gt;definition:  Alpha mom who could whip up an apple pie while cleaning the kitchen, composing the weekly PTA newsletter and receiving a mani/pedi, while dressed in a perfect A line dress, heels and pearls.  And yes, Virginia, they do exist&lt;/em&gt;).  However, this time was different.  He had just gone to the apple orchard with preschool, so how could I tell him no?  We had a bushel and a peck (&lt;em&gt;how much is that???)&lt;/em&gt; of apples, and why let them rot when they could be turned into golden brown, flaky crusted, gooey apple yumminess?!?!?  Alas, I don't do pies... but Grandma can!  So,  in walks my mother...  Martha Stewart minus the criminal record, and in record time out comes said deliciousness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is similar to my theory with the night out on Saturday, but my philosophy is this:  &lt;strong&gt;Resistance is futile&lt;/strong&gt;.  I know myself.  My brand of "Will Power" must be the generic version, because like generic toilet paper... it is pretty thin.  We're talking single ply.  So, if I pretend like I am going to go the rest of my life (&lt;em&gt;which per the Mayans will end in 2012, so why am I worried about weight anyway???)&lt;/em&gt; not eating bad foods, I am kidding myself.  That kind of strict deprivation will lead me to wig out and consume the entire contents of my grocer's freezer case (&lt;em&gt;ice cream area only...  frozen veggies will survive just fine&lt;/em&gt;).  So, I figure if Will and my mom bake up a dripping, bubbling apple pie heaven, I am just going to have a piece.  And I did.  One piece.  That can't be all bad, can it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6748718785398318111-7842379747399644280?l=breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/feeds/7842379747399644280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/2009/10/resistance-is-futile.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6748718785398318111/posts/default/7842379747399644280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6748718785398318111/posts/default/7842379747399644280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/2009/10/resistance-is-futile.html' title='Resistance is futile...'/><author><name>Domestic Goddess (In Training)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05342036087073401778</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bhsxqRUxIdY/TxhfnHySbcI/AAAAAAAAAsw/8Q5mDl7Z99k/s220/PC034005.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6748718785398318111.post-2354428435494117802</id><published>2009-10-14T08:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-14T08:42:03.555-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Weigh To Go!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Week one weigh in: Lost 4 pounds!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 119px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 119px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392481375105934594" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fQ30YxgeUaQ/StXxPXUZZQI/AAAAAAAAAdw/s5bo2oJ9T_U/s320/yay.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Only need 26 more to hit my first goal!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6748718785398318111-2354428435494117802?l=breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/feeds/2354428435494117802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/2009/10/weigh-to-go.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6748718785398318111/posts/default/2354428435494117802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6748718785398318111/posts/default/2354428435494117802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/2009/10/weigh-to-go.html' title='Weigh To Go!!!'/><author><name>Domestic Goddess (In Training)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05342036087073401778</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bhsxqRUxIdY/TxhfnHySbcI/AAAAAAAAAsw/8Q5mDl7Z99k/s220/PC034005.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fQ30YxgeUaQ/StXxPXUZZQI/AAAAAAAAAdw/s5bo2oJ9T_U/s72-c/yay.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6748718785398318111.post-560524686534018054</id><published>2009-10-13T06:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-13T07:04:09.353-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sick and dieting...</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Yesterday's Success:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ate:&lt;br /&gt;Breakfast:  Bowl of Raisin Bran Crunch with skim milk.&lt;br /&gt;Lunch:  1 serving Canadian bacon pizza.&lt;br /&gt;Snack:  Caramel Mousse sugar free, fat free pudding with squirt of light Cool Whip.&lt;br /&gt;Dinner:  1 serving Beef Taco skillet, 1 serving Spanish rice, corn.&lt;br /&gt;Snack:  1 serving almonds and Weight Watchers ice cream cone.&lt;br /&gt;Exercise:  None.  New excuse...  I'm sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sick and Dieting  (and no, not sick of dieting):&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is it about a cold?  I feel like the only thing that will make me feel better is a vat of Velvet Chicken soup or a pound of Taco Bell nachos.  Truly, I feel like eating healthy and proportional is making me sicker.  Why is that?  Is it the whole "feed a cold, starve a fever" nonsense?  Is it memories of staying home sick and my mom bringing in McDonald's for lunch?  I don't know.  But, my will power is as weak as my voice today, which is not good.  However, in the win column, I picked up Ritter's Frozen Custard for Mark and the kids last night and I didn't get anything for me... and what's more... I didn't feel left out.  I just looked forward to my yummy Weight Watchers cone and was totally satisfied.  Take that cold!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6748718785398318111-560524686534018054?l=breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/feeds/560524686534018054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/2009/10/sick-and-dieting.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6748718785398318111/posts/default/560524686534018054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6748718785398318111/posts/default/560524686534018054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/2009/10/sick-and-dieting.html' title='Sick and dieting...'/><author><name>Domestic Goddess (In Training)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05342036087073401778</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bhsxqRUxIdY/TxhfnHySbcI/AAAAAAAAAsw/8Q5mDl7Z99k/s220/PC034005.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6748718785398318111.post-726769144369065144</id><published>2009-10-12T08:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-12T09:04:54.714-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ouch...</title><content type='html'>I fell down.... straight down off my wagon.  But, I am back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday I did &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;.  I had a good breakfast, but then I had a Subway &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;foot long&lt;/span&gt; for lunch.  What?  I was hungry.  The good news is that it was healthy.  I eat whole grain bread, turkey with no cheese, light mayo and a sprinkle of vinegar... no oil.  Plus veggies, of course.  I should have gotten a six inch, but in the past, I would have had the footer with more mayo than bread and Cheetos and a cookie.  I had a healthy(&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ish&lt;/span&gt;) sandwich and no sides.  Then I had healthy snacks.  Dinner was not so great.  I had a pork tenderloin and fries, but I had permission from three of you, so I think that is &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;.  I resolved Saturday night to get back on the wagon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, then I fell off again.  Breakfast was good.  Lunch was not so good.  Stupid portion control!!!  My uncle came in town to visit so my mom laid out a yummy sandwich spread.  Quality deli meats and cheese, yummy breads... the things that don't exist in my world thanks to my budget.  I could eat more sandwiches than Joey &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Tribbiani&lt;/span&gt; could even dream of.  So I had two.  Oops.  I had two servings of potato salad, too. Double oops.  Dinner was &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;.  I still had too many &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;pieces&lt;/span&gt; of pizza, but two of them were the Lite pizza from Papa Murphy's, so again... not good to eat three pieces, but could have been worse. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I am back on the wagon.  Again.  I wonder if I could get &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;seat belts&lt;/span&gt; installed on this thing?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6748718785398318111-726769144369065144?l=breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/feeds/726769144369065144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/2009/10/ouch.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6748718785398318111/posts/default/726769144369065144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6748718785398318111/posts/default/726769144369065144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/2009/10/ouch.html' title='Ouch...'/><author><name>Domestic Goddess (In Training)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05342036087073401778</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bhsxqRUxIdY/TxhfnHySbcI/AAAAAAAAAsw/8Q5mDl7Z99k/s220/PC034005.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6748718785398318111.post-2603713367112633754</id><published>2009-10-10T07:29:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-10T07:41:03.936-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Out on the town...</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Yesterday's Success:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ate:&lt;br /&gt;Breakfast:  Bowl of Raisin Bran Crunch with skim milk.&lt;br /&gt;Lunch:  Tuna (in water) and a tablespoon of light Miracle Whip on a sandwich thin.  Bunch of grapes.&lt;br /&gt;Snack:  Pouch of almonds.  Handful of Will's popcorn.&lt;br /&gt;Dinner:  Stuffed shells with low fat ricotta cheese, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;mozzarella&lt;/span&gt; cheese and broccoli (more than a serving, but less than I used to eat) and two small chunks of garlic bread.&lt;br /&gt;Snack:  Weight Watchers ice cream cone. &lt;br /&gt;Exercise:  None...  still using rain as an excuse.  Stupid sun's out today though.  No more excuses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Out on the town...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight is a conundrum.  We are going to hear Jeff's new band play at a bar, and I think I will probably end up eating dinner there.  And, let's just be honest... you don't go to a hole in the wall bar and order grilled fish or a salad.  I feel the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;likelihood&lt;/span&gt; of getting some sort of bacteria could rival going and licking their bathroom floor.... and I am not sure which would taste better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part of me feels like I am already setting up an excuse to fail... but the other part is saying that diets do crash &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; burn when people try for total deprivation.  I have been going great guns since Wednesday, so maybe I allow myself one meal today to just be normal.   I don't mean crazy... I am not talking apps, entree, dessert, but maybe if I want a burger and fries from a bar, I have a burger and fries and get back on the horse tomorrow.  Or, is that undoing all the good work I have done?  Should I eat before I go?  I don't know.  I feel like I have a thin and svelte angel on one shoulder and a fat little devil on the other and I don't know right from wrong.  Where is my &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Hominy&lt;/span&gt; Cricket just giving me the answer?  I need one of those saying like "WWOD"... what would Oprah do?  Oh yeah, she would have the band moved to Oceannaire where she could have whatever freaking food she wanted.  Bad example.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6748718785398318111-2603713367112633754?l=breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/feeds/2603713367112633754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/2009/10/out-on-town.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6748718785398318111/posts/default/2603713367112633754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6748718785398318111/posts/default/2603713367112633754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/2009/10/out-on-town.html' title='Out on the town...'/><author><name>Domestic Goddess (In Training)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05342036087073401778</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bhsxqRUxIdY/TxhfnHySbcI/AAAAAAAAAsw/8Q5mDl7Z99k/s220/PC034005.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6748718785398318111.post-2731180237854945235</id><published>2009-10-09T07:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T09:01:28.404-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Maybe Hungry Really Means Hungry</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Yesterday's Success:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ate:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Breakfast: Bowl of Cheerios with skim milk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snack: Fiber One Oats and Peanut Butter bar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lunch: Tuna (in water) with one tablespoon light Miracle Whip on a Sandwich Thin. Half cup of sliced peaches in light syrup (and no, I don't drink the syrup after I finish the peaches... but my kids do and that includes Mark in the term "kids).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snack: One apple. 1 Sugar Free/Fat Free Jello Mousse with a squirt of light Cool Whip. (Yeah, I had two snacks. Shut up.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dinner: 1 serving of Coq au Vin (roasted boneless skinless chicken with veggies) over egg noodles and 1 biscuit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snack: Yoplait Yogurt parfait.  Weight Watchers ice cream cone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exercise: None. It's raining and my treadmill isn't fixed yet. I know... excuses, excuses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Maybe Hungry Really Means Hungry...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, so I read in a magazine article that 9 times out of 10, when you are feeling hungry you are really just thirsty.  Uh, Mr. Author Man... untrue.  Yesterday I was hungry and when I drank my glass of water...  I WAS STILL HUNGRY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't love our dinner last night, and spent the evening with a serious case of the hungries.  If you think Swine Flu is scary, try ferocious growling from the depth of your stomach like someone tied up a Pit Bull in there, but left a t-bone just out of it's reach.  Old Fat Lynn would just deal until after the boys went to bed and then send Mark out for Taco Bell.  Last night, that desire was almost overwhelming.  I even Googled calorie content to see just how bad two tacos and a nacho were going to set me back.  Then, after I found my eyeballs rolling around under the desk after they flew out of my skull at the sight of the calorie content, I drank enough Crystal Light to make me spend the night peeing like I was 9 months pregnant.  And.  I.  Was.  Still.  Hungry.  But, I had a snack, and a second snack and even though I had probably 250 calories in snacks last night, that is far better than the 976 calories I was used to in my usual Taco Bell meal, so I consider it another small success.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6748718785398318111-2731180237854945235?l=breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/feeds/2731180237854945235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/2009/10/maybe-hungry-really-means-hungry.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6748718785398318111/posts/default/2731180237854945235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6748718785398318111/posts/default/2731180237854945235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/2009/10/maybe-hungry-really-means-hungry.html' title='Maybe Hungry Really Means Hungry'/><author><name>Domestic Goddess (In Training)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05342036087073401778</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bhsxqRUxIdY/TxhfnHySbcI/AAAAAAAAAsw/8Q5mDl7Z99k/s220/PC034005.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6748718785398318111.post-6639730326420451739</id><published>2009-10-08T05:49:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T06:02:55.656-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My triggers...</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Yesterday's Success:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ate: &lt;br /&gt;Breakfast:  1 bowl Healthy Harvest breakfast cereal in skim milk. &lt;br /&gt;Lunch:  Grilled chicken Caesar Salad with fork dipped in dressing, no croutons.  1 Gala Apple.&lt;br /&gt;Snack:  1 Fiber One Oat and Peanut Butter Bar.  1 purple  jaw breaker (not going to lie, I ate a piece of candy).&lt;br /&gt;Dinner:  Two servings of veggie infused diabetic recipe lasagna (but shared with Will and Jack, so maybe a serving and a half).&lt;br /&gt;Snack:  Single serving snack pouch of almonds.&lt;br /&gt;Exercise:  20 minute bike ride and playing at the park for 20 minutes with the boys.&lt;br /&gt;Weight:  No idea, and not putting it here as I am afraid numbers that high will just confuse people.  I am picturing the public thinking "&lt;em&gt;how many people stood on the scale with her&lt;/em&gt;?"  I will do my weigh in today and will weigh in again next Wednesday since the diet officially started yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My Triggers...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night was rough.  I am pretty sure food is my addiction, and at night, my biggest crack rock is a pint of Ben and Jerry's ice cream that I would eat  THE ENTIRE THING.  I am pretty sure that nears 1,200 calories with 1,999 from fat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't have any vices.  I don't drink, I don't smoke, I don't do drugs... so at night when the boys go to sleep, I eat.  I can admit it.  I never really binge on breakfast or lunch, and I am not a snacker at all.  I can totally ignore all the chips and crap that I buy for the kids.  But, the second they go to bed, it's game on.  Sometimes round one may happen when they are napping, but usually that is only if I haven't eaten lunch and breakfast.  If that happens, I pretty much open up like a Hoover and inhale the entire contents of the fridge, freezer and pantry.  But, that is rare.  My bigger issue occurs pretty much EVERY SINGLE DAY!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boys go to bed at night and Mark says "do you want anything?"  Now, I am not blaming Mark at all.  The reality is, I start contemplating ice cream at about 8:30 and it never goes away.  I think about peace and quiet, I think about calm, and I think about yummy Karamel Sutra or Coffee Heath Bar Crunch completing that moment of zen.  But, it is that release that is causing me to run around naked from the waist down because nothing fits.  So, that is why I have to let Ben and Jerry know that it is over.  And, last night... I persevered!  Last night, Ben and Jerry both called, and I let the machine get it and munched my almonds.  It may be a war filled with many battles, but I won the first one... and that is enough to get me going today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6748718785398318111-6639730326420451739?l=breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/feeds/6639730326420451739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/2009/10/my-triggers.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6748718785398318111/posts/default/6639730326420451739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6748718785398318111/posts/default/6639730326420451739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/2009/10/my-triggers.html' title='My triggers...'/><author><name>Domestic Goddess (In Training)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05342036087073401778</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bhsxqRUxIdY/TxhfnHySbcI/AAAAAAAAAsw/8Q5mDl7Z99k/s220/PC034005.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6748718785398318111.post-5213836627755429987</id><published>2009-10-07T12:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-07T13:34:55.612-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Today is my first day...</title><content type='html'>For the last 8 years of my life, I have worn the same size jeans. Now, let's not be coy... that size was not a pretty number, but still... I maintained it. That was, until today. Today, my size has changed. Ok. OK! It has been changing for awhile now, but today I tried on two pairs of my faithful (until today) jeans and they didn't fit. Freaking Benedict Arnold bastard jeans. They didn't even come close. Crapheads. Clearly my jeans have shrunk, right, because I surely didn't get larger. I sat on my bed and contemplated the incredible shrinking jeans. They aren't new or anything so how could they have gotten so small just sitting my closet waiting for 90 degree weather to subside into the 50s? Then I saw it. This horrendous blob sticking out under my breasts. No, not a baby bump... my flabby, ever growing gut! Wait... is that really my reflection in the mirror? Is that really what people see when I sit down?????AGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the paramedics revived me, I realized that I have gained weight. A lot! A! LOT! And then I realized another thing. It has got to stop. So, now what? Identifying that I have a problem is the first step, but now what? Stupid alcoholics have it so easy with their 12 step plan! I have to create one. I know what you're thinking... successful diets do exist. Some swear by Weight Watchers and others surf the low carb waves... but I don't do well with either. Reality check... diets don't work if you have to force it too much. I can't count calories, times fiber, minus salt plus the square root of fat grams divided by pi every time I put something in my mouth. Instead, I will just eat the freaking pie and say I'll start counting again tomorrow. And, I like carbs. I eat me some carbs. But that is not what got me here. I don't chow down on an entire loaf of multi grain bread. No no, my issues live elsewhere (like in your grocers freezer case). So, I am not going to take away my whole grain pasta. Instead, I am going to do this super genius diet. Ready? I am going to actually attempt to eat right, exercise, and burn more calories then I take in. EARTH SHATTERING, yes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, today is day one in the "Lynn won't weigh more than the combined weight of the Indianapolis Colts" diet... and this blog is my accountability. People may read and join me... people may realize at this point that my blog isn't about a threesome and delete me from their web browser... either way is fine with me. This blog is where I am going to declare to the world that I will NOT go buy bigger jeans. No. I will put that shopping energy into something far greater than a single pair of jeans. I will put it into myself. Let the games begin.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6748718785398318111-5213836627755429987?l=breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/feeds/5213836627755429987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/2009/10/today-is-my-first-day.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6748718785398318111/posts/default/5213836627755429987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6748718785398318111/posts/default/5213836627755429987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://breakingupwithbj.blogspot.com/2009/10/today-is-my-first-day.html' title='Today is my first day...'/><author><name>Domestic Goddess (In Training)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05342036087073401778</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bhsxqRUxIdY/TxhfnHySbcI/AAAAAAAAAsw/8Q5mDl7Z99k/s220/PC034005.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
