Throwback Thursday, and the evolution of the crazy dog lady.

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Throwback Thursday to my two favorite boys ‚̧

I never had dogs growing up. I had a cat: Tang. I remember one day in Grade 10 my friend’s cat had babies and I brought one home once they were ready. My Mom was..not impressed, but she let me keep him. He was a sickly little dude, and we spent a lot of money getting him all spruced up, but he’s now the best cat ever. I still love to snuggle him everytime we visit home.

When we moved to Alberta we rented the cutest little basement suite. We had our own little yard and patio, and it had the most wonderful pond. I was in heaven. Our landlord (the sweetest elderly gentleman who had just lost his wife) explained to us that there were no pets allowed in the suite as he was afraid of dogs, and cats were ‘dirty’. As time went by, we became pretty close with Roger. He would give us birthday gifts, christmas gifts, and I would bake him cookies. ūüôā He was great.

Once we started looking at buying our own place, we simultaneously started going to the animal shelter to “look” at dogs. Yeah, right. When we met Rein, she was a big giant pit bull, and, having little experience with dogs, I was a bit nervous. I remember asking Jamie “how do you know if a dog is going to bite your face off?”. He laughed at me. He had been around dogs his entire life–Rein was amazing, and he knew it. We met her, cuddled her, and I¬†got a bit more comfortable, but I still had the notion in the back of my mind that if I made any sudden movements, she was going to rip me apart…Looking back, we probably shouldn’t have been visiting the shelter when we couldn’t even have an animal–it was emotional every time we left. We went home, and for the next few weeks I researched dogs and pit bulls, and rescues, and behaviour. I looked into dog classes, and dog psychology, and I read Cesear Milan books..I wanted a dog.

Two weeks later, we went back to the shelter, and there she was.¬†Still in the same¬†kennel, Rein sat¬†further back from the glass viewing window then before, and she barely looked up at us. She looked defeated. My poor girl… we asked to visit with her again and the staff showed us her tricks. She could sit, stay, roll over, shake a paw, and she LOVED fetch. The way she interacted with the¬†lady was amazing–that was her person. Everyone at the shelter loved her. I cried the entire way home that we couldn’t get her. Jamie said it was for the best though, she was ‘way too big…and scary looking’, and told me we weren’t going to go anymore until we had our own place.

That night I went to Roger’s front door, knocked, and watched him walk slowly down the stairs through the tiny front window. My heart was beating fast. I told him that I knew we weren’t allowed dogs, but I found one that was very special. And we could do a larger damage deposit, and it wouldn’t be long (he knew we were looking for a house to buy). There I was, standing on the front porch of a man who was terrified of dogs, asking him if I could bring a 75 pound rescue pit bull into his safe, beautiful little home.

“Oh, Ashley. Of course you can have a dog.”

I felt so guilty. I knew he wouldn’t say no…but I also knew I wouldn’t screw this up.

“What kind of dog is it, anyways?”

My heart sank. Oh no..here we go. I told him it was a pit bull…and guess what he said?

“Oh, I don’t know that kind.”

We went to the shelter the next day and adopted her. It ended up costing us $575 dollars as she needed a special class as an adoption condition (she was a pit bull, afterall). I didn’t care. We paid the money and were told we could pick her up in two days, as she needed to be spayed.

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Sleepy girl on her way home–see her bandaid?

When we went to pick her up, she had just finished surgery and she was so sleepy. I sat in the back seat with her and I was so happy. She made herself right at home, walked over to her bed we had for her, and layed right down. I spent the entire first night laying on her bed with her, rubbing her head softly (I still had no idea about dogs).

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Carpet is so much better than concrete, Mom!

The first few days of leaving her at home I was pretty sure we’d come home to a¬†ripped apart front door, or a chewed up couch, but we never did. She¬†has still never chewed a thing.¬†She’s had a few accidents inside, but man does she feel bad (you can tell by the look in her eyes..and she cowers when you see it). She’s so well behaved, and so smart (we taught her to crawl, and high-10). I’m so glad Roger made an exception for us.

Fast forward to 6 months into home ownership…guess who came home with puppy #2? This girl!! Benjamin Button (Ben, for when we are in public) was just a tiny, tiny little¬†baby (see first picture). Our family is complete, for now, until we are ready for babies (or another puppy..).

 

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Fancy Friday and Body Fat Testing

Good Morning! It’s Fridayyyy!

Usually when I wake up on Friday’s, my first thoughts are:

  • BABE!! We can stay up LATE tonight and SLEEP IN tomorrow
  • Tomorrow is cheat day and I’m eating Indian food (I am addicted and it’s my ‘cheat’ choice every single week)
  • I get to wear jeans today

Point 1 and 2 were right on time…however today I decided not to wear¬†jeans (our office has been letting us wear jeans for the past week¬†to celebrate the¬†Calgary Stampede). Instead, I have opted for a Fancy Friday..hehe. My mom bought me this dress in Vegas, and I have to fight not to wear it a few times a week (in love). I don’t have a lot of ‘expensive’ (the dress was about $100, so only really ‘expensive’ to my small-town budget) clothes, and I think I just love the way the fabric feels. Oh, and it makes me feel fancy –hence Fancy Friday..Ben really likes it too, as you can see. He spent the entire morning following me around, flopping down, and licking my ankles (weirdo).

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After work, I am meeting with my trainer getting my measurements done, progress pictures taken, and¬†body fat tested. This will be my second test as I did another one exactly one month ago. I’m pretty nervous. I’ve been working so hard, and I really hope the number has gone down. I don’t really feel like I look any different. With my luck, it’s probably gone up a few percent.. haha.

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These are my previous progress photo comparisons. These photos were taken one month apart, I was working my ASS off and eating clean, clean, clean. As you can see..I look exactly the same.In fact, I may even look worse in the front facing one.. lol ūüė¶ Boo!!!! But I didn’t give up!! I am still working out 6 days per week, eating careful, and remaining hopeful.

P.S. I know I don’t need to loose any weight. But I do want to build muscle and tone my body.¬†3 years ago I was 220 pounds, and I’ve fought HARD to get to this stage. I’ve sweat, and cried, and thrown up from working so hard. It’s been a serious struggle…but I made it to this point. Maybe someday I will post “220lb me” photos..but not today.

 

FINGERS crossed for tonight!!! Wish me luck ūüôā

 

 

“45 Days Out”

It was a long, hot day. I got home around 6pm and had mentally prepared myself for the gym the entire ride home. I was hot, sweaty, and my feet hurt. “Why can’t it just be Saturday?” crossed my mind more than once (rest day!). I got home, opened the door, and my two crazy monkeys came running over to see Mom. My goodness they make me happy beyond words (that’s another post..or seven).. I don’t know¬†what I’d do without them.

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After our workout, we came home and devoured these delicious, extra-lean, grass-fed beef burgers on lettuce buns (something you wouldn’t have caught him dead doing when we met) that my wonderful man made for us. The patties were¬†weighed out and ready to grill! He isn’t 100% ready to be a passenger on my ‘ I weigh my food ‘ train, but he does what he can to support me and for that I am grateful. So, so good…and worth the workout, even after my long day. I had a lot of trouble sleeping last night, but that’s just the way it is for me some days. Some weeks I sleep for probably about 70 hours..others I sleep for about 35. Hashimoto’s you’re silly..and a pain in my ass.

On another note: Today marks exactly 45 days until I walk down the aisle! I’ve decided to spend the next 45 days doing WHATEVER it takes to feel like (at least)¬†2- million bucks on that day.¬†It’s time to step it up a knotch!¬†I’ve always struggled with my body image, and although I am now at a ‘healthy’ weight, I still feel like I am that 220-pound girl who was too shy to even glance up from my own little world. I know that for myself, the better I feel about myself, the happier I am. I want to ROCK that honeymoon bikini with NO fear, no regrets, and a huge smile on my face.

My lunch today was DELICIOUS. I¬†tend to get sick of salads, especially since I don’t eat salad dressing, but this was just perfect. It’s really just a normal salad..but the avacado ‘dressing’ is TO DIE FOR (and guilt free!!)

  • Cut up half a¬†ripe avocado and “mix” it with¬†your greens ( I used spring mix and baby kale) until they’re ‘coated’..I find it easiest if you use your hands for this ūüôā
  • Add some lemon juice (I used half a lemon), salt, and pepper (this made a delicious, creamy,¬†guilt-free “dressing”)
  • I also added some basil from my garden into the greens..this is optional, as you have to like basil. I LOVE basil..
  • I also added 3/4 of an apple as my carb¬†(the other 1/4 went directly into my belly while chopping..apples are my weakness!)

I also used snap peas, cucumber,¬†baby tomatos and¬†orange peppers, but just throw in whatever you have/like. That’s the beauty of salads.. haha

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(I ate this along with a leftover burger patty with mustard and sirracha–PROTEIN is important ūüôā )

 

Crazy eyebrows and lots of snuggles.

Last night was just like our average, every day night. I got home from work, went to the gym with my fiance (I can bench 65 pounds, but I still can’t do a pull-up!), came home, did our¬†Costco run,¬†ate dinner¬†(yay for green smoothies with protein and flax..lately I have not been feeling solid meals for dinner) and relaxed for a bit. Oh, and we had our first dance class for the wedding. I definitely have two left feet and a very, very hard time ‘following’. Apparently I need to let go of all control…not something I am good at.¬†¬†But all in all, it was a great night.

After we got home and I¬†showered, I perched in my usual, comfy spot on the bathroom counter and begun on the ever so tedious task of plucking my eyebrows (which had been neglected for far too long). Well, guess what? They’re falling out. The edges used to be full, and now they’re falling out. They’re pencil-thin and it’s not from plucking. This made me sad. My skin is also getting even¬†drier. The inside of my nostrils is cracked and raw and has been for months, but now it’s spreading to my cheeks and forehead, as well.¬†This has been one of those symptoms¬†that no doctor can explain. It could be from the¬†Hashimoto’s, and¬†it could be from any number of other causes.¬†Oh well, all I know is that I look like a lizzard and it hurts.

I ran downstairs to my fiance and asked him the question he has to receive at least 3 times per week… “Is it too late to call Grandma??!” (she is in another time zone).¬†Grandma is my go-to for times like these, she always seems to understand. I think we are ‘soul sisters’, or whatever you want to call it. She just understands me. Even when I’m being crazy, she has a special way of making me feel like she knows exactly what I am going through. Well, despite his answer of “probably”, I decided to take the risk. Sure enough, Grandma was sleeping. I’ve made this mistake before and had her groggily answer the phone, knowing I’m the only one who would call that late, but luckily this time I did not interrupt her. Grandpa and I had a quick talk, but I didn’t want to¬†keep him from¬†his Baseball game he was currently watching on PVR (oh, to be retired..). I called my Momma and gave her my sob story. She worries about me and told me to go to the doctor. Blah, the doctor cannot do anything for these crazy brows. I said goodnight, got off the phone, snuggled my fiance while I felt sorry for myself for a bit, and forced myself to walk upstairs to bed. Goodnight eyebrows, you a-holes.

I woke up this morning and felt great! I wasn’t bloated, or tired. I actually felt skinny (yayyy for no bloat!). So I thought, what the hell, painted my eyebrows on (hehe) and¬†jumped on the scale. Afterall, I’ve been¬†WORKING MY ASS OFF at the gym AND eating out of tupperware. Oh scale, I hate you. I hate, hate, hate you. Every time I think maybe I lost a pound or two you squash my hopes and my dreams and bring me back to reality. I can feel like an absolute supermodel¬†looking in the mirror, and as soon as I see that stupid number I feel like a beached whale. Psychological abuse, I’d say. ¬†I know, I know, it’s ‘just a number’. But why can’t it be a number that is 10 pounds less?! So, I concluded that I need to stop¬†weighing myself…which I probably will until two weeks from now when I¬†am feeling SO great that¬†I must have lost weight.. ūüėČ and so the¬†vicious cycle begins again!

 

Go pink plaid!
Go pink plaid!

¬†Today is going to be a good day. I am waiting for a cab to take me downtown to our office’s annual¬†client barbeque for a “Stampede celebration”– I live in Calgary, so this is a big week for us!¬†It is supposed to be almost 30 degrees and I will be downtown all day mingling and watching others enjoy delicious BBQ steak (while I eat salad and lean¬†turkey breast¬†from a tupperware container)…but hey, I won’t be at work! Enjoy your Tuesday, everyone!