Here's a survey that's been making the blog rounds. While I normally don't do these types of things (I totally look at other people's, though) I thought it might be a good idea to let people know just exactly why I am so weird. So here goes. . .

Age: 31




Bed size: Queen


Chore you hate: folding the laundry :(


Dogs: 2  Blitz, German Shorthaired Pointer and Tater, Basset Hound


Essential start of your day: Yogi tea and a workout


Fave color: Depends.


Gold or silver: Silver



Height: 5'5"


Instruments I play: Does the radio count. . .?


Job title: Mom, Wife, Rockstar (OK, so that one's just in my head, but still)


Kids: 2 Peanut, 11 and Bubbo, 7


Live: Eastern Kentucky


Mom’s name: Tyannia (pronounced Tonya - don't ask)


Nicknames: my name is Keila - figure it out. Taquilla, Killer, and a few others that I do my best not to say :)


Overnight hospital stays: just when I had my babies


Pet peeve: people who say "in other words", question talkers, call waiting


Quote from a movie: I usually have one for any situation, but I've found that one is usually pretty good for most situations. "My advice to you is to start drinking heavily."

Right or left handed: Right



Siblings: 1 brother


Time you wake up: 6:45 on school days, usually before 8:00 otherwise


Underwear: yes, please


Veg you dislike: cucumbers


What makes you run late: kids!


X-rays you have had done: Teeth, Chest, Ankle, Foot, Foot, Foot


Yummy food you make: Biscuits!


Zoo Animal, favorite: Tigers

So, some of these are pretty far fetched. Underwear? Seriously? Maybe I'll just have to make my own ABC's. We'll see.

Why I Eat

So it seems that I may finally be back on track with my workouts which is a good thing. Bad news? My eating is still not so good. I admit this.
It has been suggested to me that I should probably look into the reasons WHY I eat. So I have. I have looked and looked and looked. Turns out that I eat because . . . wait for it . . . I like it. I like the way it tastes and smells and I like cooking it and reading about it. In short, food is awesome. Groundbreaking, I know.
See, they say; and by they I mean the endless diet and nutrition experts who go on ad nauseum about this kind of thing; that one whould never eat for reasons other than hunger and nutrition. Ummmm, yeah, about that. . .
I'm going rogue!
Saying that I will only ever eat when I'm hungry is like saying that I'm only ever going to have sex for procreation. For the record I don't think I've ever had sex for the express purpose of procreation. And I have two kids. Just sayin'.
It's not realistic, OK. What is the point of having a long healthful life if I can take no joy out of it?
Yes, I know I need to make better eating choices. Understood. My problem is in finding the balance.
Of course I still want the chocolate cake. Who doesn't? But I guess I just need to fit more brocoli into my diet in order to make the chocolate cakes of the world not so tragic. Outrageous concept, right?
Now the trick is learning to like eating more brocoli.

Is She or Isn't She?

It happened to me the other day.
At the grocery store.
By two dudes, no less.
The question, whispered betwixt them, was, "Is she pregnant?"
GASP!
The answer, of course, is "Ummm. . .NO!"
Not for a while now. Sure, I'm still carrying around some (a lot) of baby weight.
OK, maybe that's not such a valid excuse anymore, since my "baby" is busy planning his eighth birthday party. Star Wars, in case you were wondering, which he assures me is going ot be "wicked good!" But still, did they really have to go there?
Those two ass-hats totally ruined my day. My week. My life.
And do you want to know the worst part? I let them.
I let those douchbags (who btw, were two dudes in cowboy boots buying diet Coke and Lean Cuisine - just sayin') effect how I thought about myself.
What the hell kind of brain fart was that?
OK, so Brokeback thought I was pregnant. So what? Am I? No. Do I look like it? Possibly.
Yes, I'm fat. I get it. I'm OK with that because I'm working on it. I'm not just setting around on my non-pregnant ass.
And the next time I see those guys around town hopefully they will realize just how awesome I am. They better recognize. And failing that; I've been working out and I don't care to hit a dude.

Pop It To Me!

To all the 2nd grade parents at my son's school;
This letter is directed to the parent or parents (you know who you are) who brought Pepsi to the Valentine's Day Party on Monday. This was not appreciated.
In fact it sucked!
I could go on and on about how bad caffeine is for kids, but I suspect you already know all this, and clearly don't care. I will not comment on your cracker jack parenting. I doubt it would make a difference. 
However, all health considerations of caffeine aside, 7 & 8 year olds should not have Pepsi or other caffeinated beverages for one very important reason.
It makes them wonky!
I mean seriously crazy! My kid  was still bouncing off the walls at 9:00pm. I'm sure your little darling was not so effected, being so used to caffeine as he/she is.
So, just so we're clear, you SUCK!
Thank you,
Popped Off Mom

All Bitches Are Not Alike or lessons we can learn from the dog show

It's red carpet season and while I'm not huge fan of awards shows I LOVE love love Fashion Police on E! with Joan Rivers, Kelley Osbourne, and the other two that no one really cares about. Yes, I love the snarky things they say and how Joan has an awesome habit of saying just exactly what it is that I am thinking. But what I most love is that Fashion Police never picks on women for their size. They celebrate the fact that every woman is different.
Yes, they say that so and so should have pulled on a pair of Spanx under that tight satin dress, but Spanx aren't exclusive to the big girls. And they often comment how certain dresses, while beautiful, do not complement an actresses body type. They recognize that Christina Hendricks cannot wear the same dress that Jane Lynch can wear. And Jane Lynch can't wear a dress that Sandra Bullock can wear. And so on. The judges on Fashion Police judge actresses and their respective fashions can't be judged against each other but only against their selves.
Seems like I've heard this theory before.
Oh yeah. At the dog show. Being a dog loving family, we always watch the Westminster Kennel Club dog show when it's on. And someone will always say something like, "Yeah, but that Lab is way cuter than the terrier!"
Perhaps, but that's not the way it works. A terrier cannot be a Lab. And that is just the way it is. There is an ancient Chinese proverb (isn't there always?) that says that one cannot fault a pig for not having the neck of a giraffe.
Are you getting it? I can't have the body of the girl that works out at the gym with me and she cannot have the body of the girl at the coffee shop. And while my body will never look like Cameron Diaz's no matter how hard I work at it, I can work to make it a better version of my own body.
Who knew Joan Rivers and a bunch of bitches had so much wisdom?

Super Bowl Slut

Here it is. My walk of shame.
Again.
But I will admit it. I am a slut for football. I just generally love the game. I love the chill in the air of an outside game (I don't know who decided that football should be played inside a dome, but they were wrong). I love the crash of helmuts and the sound of the chains being dragged up and down the sidelines (still not a fan of the CGI line). And then, of course, there are the football pants. I am a firm believer that everyone's backside is imroved by football pants.
And, naturally, there is football food.
I do love me some football food. Super Bowl Sunday in our house is always a very big deal. We try to base our menu around whatever team it is we are cheering for. Admitedly, though, when one is trying to lose weight football food may not be the best way to go. Last year wasn't so bad. We were for the Saint's (who wasn't?) so we put out some jambalaya and it was awesome.
This year though I was doubly damned. See my beloved Green Bay Packers were competing in the biggest game of the season. Now before you even start, I am NOT one of those fair weather fans who jump on the bandwagon during good seasons and off during the bad. I have loves the Packers pre-Favre and post. By the way, Favre who? Aaron Rodgers owns that team!
And, yes, I suppose the Steelers don't technically suck. And Troy Polamalu's hair does seem to have magical powers - kind of like a unicorn. But that doesn't mean that when my Packers are involved, I wouldn't stick a big ol' wad of chewing gum in it.



However, back to the issue at hand. In the spirit of total Packer celebration I served brats and cheese and beer. It. Was. Awesome!
Today, though. . .not so much. I haven't eaten like that in a while. I have been eating more fresh foods and cutting out the processed junk. I have been trying to cut out pop and haven't had a beer in - I don't even know how long. Probably the last time I was in Wisconsin. So needless to say, today I feel a little bit sluggish.
Slow.
Bloated.
Gross.
How did I ever eat like that all the time? Oh yeah, I felt like crap all the time. Hmmmm . . .
I had been looking for a little jolt for a while now. Something that would help inspire me and keep me on track. Turns out going completely off track for a weekend was the only way to get back on. Getting a glimpse of how I used to feel all the time has helped me focus in on why I am doing this in the first place.
So today I woke up as a devoted fan of Super Bowl Champions, Green Bay Packers. And yes, I woke up bloted and craptacular, but I woke up with a renewed focus and drive to do this thing.

Supertasters, Unite!

Today on Rachael Ray (aka: the show I like to watch as I decompress from the gym) Rachael and some cute Doctor Guy were talking about supertasters.
In case you've never heard of it, supertasters are allegedly people who have more tastebuds thereby making htem more sensitive to, well . . .taste. Salt is saltier. Savory is savory-er. And heaven of heavens, sweets are sweeter. The caveat: it seems that what is especially effected is bitter flavors. Just what you always wanted. More bitterness in your life.
Strangly enough, there seems to be some evolutionary benefit to supertasters. Historically. Supertasters would have been more able to taste the bitterness of poisoness plants more easily. However, in todays society this seems to be of little importance and being a supertaster may actually be harmfull.
See, because of all the bitterness, supertasters tend to avoid good for you foods. Broccoli, kale, cabbage,spinach, brussles sprouts, olives, coffee, grapefruit juice, and green tea are ammong the foods most commonly avoided by supertasters. This leads to the reason why supertasters are five times more likely to be overweight and much more likely to develop diabetes or cancer.
This is not to say that just because you don't like one of these foods that you are a supertaster. Likewise, supertasters can also train themselves to like certain foods. I myself am a supertaster and I happen to love love love spinach. But it wasn't always that way. I also came to like broccolli later in my life and I am slowly learning to like kale. Probably mever going to like brussles sprouts, though.
So now I'm a fat supertaster, I not only have to train my body but I also have to train my tastebuds. Perfect.