Ouch.

I love how every time I’m beginning to lose sympathy for my always-teething children, God smites me with Terrible Wisdom Tooth of Doom.

Yes, I’m teething. Oh my heck. I have two wisdom teeth in all the way, and two halfway in, and every few months they start burrowing their way up again, and it makes me want to rip my jaw out of my face because that would hurt LESS that accidentally chewing on the wrong side of my face 37 times a day, and WHY don’t I learn?

I may be the only adult in North America to still have her wisdom teeth. We used to not have insurance. Then I was firmly in the not-removing-things-from-my-body-just-because camp. Then my friend became a dental hygienist and actually explained to me why they routinely remove your wisdom teeth these days. And then I turned into a big, fat pansy.

Speaking of which, I have begun weightlifting.

I was so fed up with my ellipticalling and ellipticalling and ellipticalling and still only GAINING weight. So I poked around a bit and found that hey! One of the keys to weight loss? Is building muscle. I am an intelligent woman who knows all about how having muscles helps you burn more calories, but I never actually put it all together.

Yes, dieting is also an option, but I refuse to do it, other than just eating a decently well-rounded diet. First, I am hungry ALL OF THE TIME. I have been like this for as long as I can remember. I don’t eat because I’m bored or stressed. I eat because I’m hungry. And you know what? If thinness will only happen if I have to tolerate a gnawing sensation in the pit of my stomach for the rest of my days, I AM NOT INTERESTED. Second, I have kids to feed who need fats in their diet. I’m not interested in having two different kinds of everything. We don’t have enough refrigerators. Third, I mostly dislike the taste of low-fat, low-sugar things. I aim for foods that don’t need butter or sugar, but when they do, I will use the good stuff.

So. Weightlifting. I am a weakling. No, I take that back. My arms, despite their… flying squirrel-ish appearance, are pretty ripped. I can curl as much as I could in high school. My back is stronger than I’d expected, too. But everything else is shamefully weak. Like a wilted piece of lettuce. I’m a droopy piece of broccoli.

And? I lost a pound and a half in two days. It probably would have been even more this morning, except that my MIL took us out for dinner for Emmy’s birthday, and there was far more food than any of us had anticipated. It was well worth it. I will never regret fresh mozzarella or a perfect tiramisu.

Oh, the look of wonder on Emmy’s face at her first taste of chocolate ice cream and whipped cream. It was almost accusatory: “You KNEW about this, and you held out on me for a YEAR?”

It was a good birthday. Thanks, MIL.

PS: I forgot to mention in my last entry that my father is adopted. So, I didn’t get any DNA from my grandma, sadly. I do like the air of mystery this lends to my father’s side of the family tree. I bet I am related to pirates! Norwegian pirates!

Also known as Vikings.

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