The Cleanse

cleanse

That right there in the picture above + water is all I’ve eaten (read had to drink) for 10 days straight. Lemon juice, maple syrup and cayenne pepper. Who thinks of these combinations?

I’ve been wanting to do something to jump start some weight-loss, plus I liked the idea of cleansing the inside. (Believe me – I was cleansed.) From June 28th to July 7th I drank 8-10 glasses of this lemonade, ms and cayenne pepper concoction for meals. I actually did NOT feel very hungry and I DID have energy. I also got some mouth sores and after a while the cayenne burned my throat on the way down. Right off the bat I realized that I thought about food A LOT in regular life, as in – What will I eat forConclusion: Life is pretty boring when you subtract food/eating.

I also drank warm sea salt water every morning to cleanse. That was the worst. I tried to convince my mind that it was broth but my mind remained unconvinced. I never even got close to the 32 oz they recommended. But once everything was cleared out (thank you laxatives) the salt water rushed right through me as it was meant to – and I’m not talking about peepee, uh huh.

On the upside – I lost 8 lbs in 10 days. I lost 5 in the first 2-3 days and then plateaued for a few days – I guess that was the “water weight” that people always talk about. I don’t even know what water weight is – I suppose I do now… The weight did continue to come off and I am now 6 lbs away from my goal – which is still a plump me, never-fear, but 14 lbs less plump than I was.

Confession: I didn’t actually make it until this morning as I had originally planned – By late yesterday afternoon I was feeling sick and migraine-y. I was out of maple syrup and didn’t want to buy more for half a day. I think my body was just OVER the cleanse. I ate watermelon and cherries and a little bit of grilled chicken last night. I confess. It’s unusual for me to not see something through to the end and to punk out right at the finish line – but, well, I do have four little people who depend on me and my body needed food. (I also started exercising the last couple days of the cleanse which helped the weight loss but also contributed to me feeling nasty…)

All in all, I consider this one more training exercise preparing me for being a contestant on Survivor or surviving an apocalyptic situation – whichever comes first.

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My Phone Hates Me. Or I Have an Accent.

My iPhone hates me, or else I have an accent.

I talk to text which is the Best Thing Ever since I apparently have fat fingers and am incapable of touching the correct letter on the keyboard. FYI: Texting did not exist when I was a child or teenager – I lack speed and accuracy.

All that to say – I talk to my phone and I love it. Sadly, my feelings are not returned or else the phone and I have a serious communication problem. We need counseling.

Exhibit A:

text

When I say: “my mom’s risotto” my phone hears “Arizona.” Seriously? I know there are all kinds of funny auto-correct blunders out there and I confess to laughing my head off as I read them, but it’s not so funny when you talk to text your daughter P’s name and the phone consistently translates it to Pacha. Yes, like the John Goodman character from The Emperor’s New Groove. Funny guy from a funny movie, but I’m not naming my daughter after him.

Pacha. Really?

P PACHAIs it possible that I talk funny? Or does my iPhone just hate me?

 

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Orphan, Widow, Single Mother – Still Alive

Forty years ago in South India there was a girl who was born the second of three sisters. When she was very young her father became ill and died. The mother could not bear the thought of raising three girls alone and since she had a history of mental illness, the girl’s mother also took her life. That day the girl became an orphan.

The girl and her older sister were sent to live with an Aunt in Mumbai and there they were treated slightly better than household servants. When they were old enough, they traveled to Rajasthan to attend Bible College. The middle sister was sickly and worry-prone from childhood so she was soon married to a relative of her older sister’s husband to relieve her family of the burden of caring for her. Unbeknownst to her, her new husband was also sickly and on top of that, terribly unkind to the girl. Nevertheless, she soon became pregnant and bore a daughter of her own. Not long after, her terrible husband died. That day the girl, who was now a woman, became a widow.

While I lived in India the woman and her child came to live near her older sister who was married to a member of my staff. The woman, who was a true orphan and a true widow and a true single mother was also one of the most annoying people I have ever met. That sounds mean, doesn’t it? But it’s true. The crazy part is, I loved her. I loved her in spite of her annoying and pushy ways. I loved her through all her (many) physical ailments and doctor’s appointments when the doctor would scold her for not taking her medicine or doing what she was told to get well. For some reason, God had given me an abundance of grace and love toward her, it surely was not from myself.

Over three years ago I left India and have not returned. I have not seen or heard from the woman, my friend, since then. She has no access to computers and would not be able to type even if she did.

Last night I saw I had a Facebook message from an old staff member in India – the brother-in-law of my friend. When I opened Messenger there were five words: Hi from Princy and Justy.”

My first thought was, Wow, she’s still alive.

justyc

5minutefridayThis post was written for Five Minute Fridays where many many lovely people link up to write for just five minutes inspired by a single word. Today’s word: Messenger. Find link here.

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Why I Choose to Eat My Own

If there is an occasion where I am asked to bring a food item or dessert, you can bank on the fact that out of the enormous amount of food items present I will choose to eat my own.

I’m not sure where this ranks on the Weirdness Scale, but since I am so very consistent in this habit (ask my friends and family), something inside me tells me that it is definitely strange and that it probably ranks a 3 or 4 on the W.S.

A score of 10 on the Weirdness Scale would be something along the lines of bringing a Pink Molded Tuna Mousse to a potluck. (#gag #Ijustthrewupalittle #Ineedtostoptalkingabouttunamousse #gagagain)

tuna mousse

I only bring this up because my brother was telling me about a potluck retirement dinner they had at their church on Saturday and a woman brought a pink molded tuna mousse to share. O-kay, I accept that this nasty, obviously alien-inspired creation might only rank as a 7 on the Weirdness Scale, but my brother also told me that the woman CALLED him the week before to make certain that no one else had signed up to bring a TUNA MOUSSE. (That confirmation call kicked this tuna mousse right on up to a 10 on the W.S.)

What planet is this person from? Who eats this stuff? (#justthrewupalittle #again) Am I the weird one?

I may score a 3 (possible 4) for always choosing to eat my own potluck dish – but can you blame me when the world is full of  Pink Molded Tuna Mousse bringers? (#hurlinginthebowl)

IS this weird? Would you eat Tuna Mousse?

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New Delhi/ New Deli & My Inner Snob

On Saturday I asked my girls to think about where they wanted to go for lunch after church on Sunday. I suggested a few places and decided to let them choose. On the drive to church and my oldest daughter was advocating for one of the Indian restaurants in town.

We love Indian food, but the Indian restaurants around here are fancy schmancy and it is way too stressful to eat there with my 5 and 7 year olds. When I explained this to my daughter she insisted that I had suggested the restaurant as a choice for lunch the day before. She even got the eleven year old on her side.

They were so insistent that I started to believe that I must have suggested it in a moment of insanity even though I KNEW I never would have. I let it go, as I always do. Arguing with children is futile.

I kept thinking about it and as we walked into church it hit me – I had suggested the “new deli” in town and to my daughter’s brain that translated to “New Delhi” = Indian food. Everything became clear.

ND 3

All four of my children are native Hindi speakers and English is their second language. For  the oldest, especially, this can cause confusion. Heck – kids are confused and confusing most of the time even when they share your mother tongue.

With their diverse cultural and linguistic backgrounds my girls also tend to be sponges. This can be great! This can be not so great.

1284For the last few days, my seven year old (who has always been my language powerhouse) has soaked up the expression, “no more” from somewhere. I’m entirely used to my children speaking with accents, mispronouncing things and misusing words, but for some reason, every time G says, “no more” instead of “anymore” I feel a fire start to burn at the back of my neck and I have to hold myself back from biting her head off. I am consumed with a need to track down where she picked up this horrid expression and then squash the culprit. This is very unlike me.

My inner snob.

My inner snob.

At moments like these I realize that my inner snob is popping out. She’s pretty laid back most of the time and seems content just keeping me in check. True to her nature as a snob, she tends to ignore the children with their malaprops and mispronunciations. Most of the time she shrugs her shoulders and goes back to doing whatever it is that she does.

I suppose “no more” must be her hot button.

Things could be worse: Bad Words

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Her Little Hands Far Away from Mine

Hands

Today my little P left for school in the morning with her sisters for the first time.

Until now she’s attended afternoon pre-K so she and I spent every morning together. Her little hands raised in the air as I pull on her shirt. Her hand on mine as I lift her up to sit on the toilet. Her tiny hand hidden in mine as we cross the street.

Right now her little hand is holding her friend’s or maybe someone else’s mom’s hand as she climbs into a big yellow bus for the first time. Her little hands are exploring the wonders of the children’s museum as she walks around on her first ever class trip. Her little hands are opening her brown paper bag to grab her chips and eat her lunch.

Her little hands, far away from mine.

Today my big P left for school in the morning with her sisters for the first time.

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I link up with Lisa-Jo Baker every Friday and we write intensely for 5 minutes. Find us/Join us here: Five Minute Friday.

Guess what today’s word prompt was… 😉

 

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You Know Women Live Here

My plate is overflowing lately (figuratively, not literally – I mostly just eat Fiber 1 cereal in a bowl), so I’ve been constrained to blogging in my head. But until I get some free moments to transfer from my brain to my fingertips, here are some FABULOUS finds from the thrift store today.

Paris Inspired Bathrooms here we come…

Four AMAZING Vintage Paris prints are perfect for our new Paris inspired bathroom. $24!

pa1

pa2

Super cute shower curtain for $3. This will go in the little girls’ bathroom.

I won this ultra fab brand new shower curtain with rings on eBay. I got it for a steal.

pa3

So, uh, yeah – this is a household of women. We can decorate this way.

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I’d Rather Be Blogging

 

I’d rather be blogging, but instead I spent the entire day painting. I will LOVE my new bedroom, but in the meantime – I’d still rather be blogging. Or writing. Or sleeping….r3Ugly, non-Rebecca color on walls. Must paint over.

r2Primed.

I had some mini-helpers in the morning, but eventually they said I was “mean” because I kept reprimanding them for stepping in paint and tracking it around the floors. Meanest mom ever. I know.  Mostly they laid around and watched Monster Week on Animal Planet.

r1

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I hope to still get the upper wall color on tonight. The good news is that in my frugal scrounging in the basement and various closets I found enough paint left over from previous tenants to prime the whole room. I also found the exact color I want to paint the upper portion of the wall. Go me saving $50 or so and recycling, reusing, repurposing.  You’re welcome.

I am pretty exhausted. Around four o’clock I sat down on the bed to eat some watermelon. By the time the guy on TV was telling his abducted by aliens story I was fast asleep – on the mattress that the previous owner did NOT die on but did trickle away the last years of his life languishing on. So, yeah, I was that tired.

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Declutter Your Prose: Three Phrases to Avoid in Your Posts

I promise you, if I see what is described in #2 at the beginning of a post, I will not read it. I read a lot of blogs and I pretty much don’t read any of them that are cluttered as described in this post. Good stuff, worth reblogging.

The Daily Post

On The Daily Post, we want to help you improve your writing and offer concrete advice to craft clear, crisp prose. As an editor on WordPress.com, I read many, many posts each day on our platform; it’s worth pointing out words and sentences that might detract from your writing.

Here are three ways to copy edit your writing and declutter your prose:

1. In this post, I will explain . . .

When we draft posts, we naturally dump our inner monologues onto the page. And that’s good — that’s the beauty of free writing and cranking out first drafts: we have material we can later rework, cut, and move around.

Before you hit “Publish,” scan your intro for phrases like “In this post, I will explain…” or “Today, I will write about…” and similar phrases. In your drafting process, just let go and type. But when you’re…

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