Prompted to catch up the budding audience of, uh, we’ll call it fifteen regular readers of RaisingElle with this beauty above sent in from reader Kris Fleetwood in Hutchinson, Kansas. Sent this prize through interoffice mail. Glad to see you’re making good use of the company’s money, Mr. Fleetwood. No, it was well appreciated. Guess the guys over at Garbage Pail Kids thought that to immortalize Run DMC, they’d make them little pimples with a small sprout of hair, some sunglasses (which none of them ever wore sunglasses), wearing red Chuck Taylors (wha?) and snapping their fingers as they rap with white gloves on. What the hell is this anyway? And Raisin’ Ella looks like that scene where Jason Voorhees flies out of the lake and takes that lady out. Kris, thanks for the submission. Hope things are well.
Things are well in Ellison Country. Report at Dr. Miles Davis’ office went well today. Amazing how easy this gig is to this point. Seriously, it took all but about ten minutes from the time I sat down and began reading the latest issue of American Baby to the point we were leaving. My lovely wife is a champ. Taking it all in stride. All the prodding, poking and measuring. Glad it’s not me. I’ve actually developed a little bit of a complex from the whole thing. Ellison’s heart rate has honed in on about 142 and she’s turned her head downward which means she’s getting ready for launch. We’re nearing the final two months at this point. Nothing suggesting she’ll be early right now.
Man, we’re blest to have a good pregnancy to this point. Ellison’s been an angel. Kicking a tons. Lots of movement. My lovely wife said she thinks that Ellison did her first windmill today. She described the feeling and I suggested it was instead a headspin. Technically, a headspin.
My insurance re-upped which meant one thing…get my stupid broken tooth fixed on my left-hand side. I broke it chewing on spinach and chicken one day at lunch. Snapped off half of it in my mouth and since I don’t have the kinda money to front a root canal out of pocket, I had to wait until the first of July. Gotta get it fixed before Ellison comes along. I don’t wanna look like poor white trash in all of my first photos with Baby Ellison. And since we’re on the subject of wellness, I got myself a weight coach because I don’t want to be fat dad. I included the first photo that popped up when I searched “fat dad” on Google to get the point across.
The weight coach gets me a break on my insurance. The funniest part of the process was the phone interview in which we assessed my diet, activity and overall fitness. I suppose she was used to talking to be people who were morbidly obese and weighed 350 pounds. When I told her I didn’t drink colas, ran 12 miles a week, eat breakfast every morning and eat plenty of fruits and vegetables, she joked and said, “What were you wanting to do again?” I wanna lose weight. I want to trim back. My lovely wife thinks that I have a bit of a body image-problem. But I do weigh 224 pounds which my coach noted was a little on the heavier side, but that with some changes to my diet, I could get down to 205-210 easily. Man, that’d be prizefighter form.
She was surprised too that I thought I had a weight issue, but didn’t even know precisely what I weighed at the time of the interview. “When was the last time you weighed yourself or were weighed by someone else?” Uh, years ago? “Not even by a doctor.” I don’t see them often. “Hmm. Okay, goal number one for you is to find a scale and weigh yourself.” That’s always been my way of avoiding obsession. Just don’t ever weigh yourself. I don’t believe in dieting, really. Healthy lifestyle is where I reside. Dieting infers something you do for a short period of time to reach a goal and once you’re there, you go somewhere else. Normally, it’s back up. Establishing a healthy lifestyle results in continued success and sustaining healthy metrics.
I took Blue Cross/Blue Shield’s health assessment test and below were my scores. Their comments for a 100 point score were “good” and for 45 point score were “medium.” I went ahead and changed the comment field to what I thought was more applicable.
|Medical Health||100||0||I’m the ultimate specimen.|
|Risk behavior & Lifestyle||100||0||Thanks for buckling up.|
|Physical Activity||86||0||Guess I should run 14 miles a week.|
|Effectiveness at work||86||0||I resent this. This is a B in grade school. I’m quality at work.|
|Nutrition||75||0||Apparently, here’s my 20-pound problem.|
|Perception of overall health||71||0||Confused by this. This is my perception of my health? Not necessarily reality?|
|Job Satisfaction||71||0||This is probably average in the US.|
|Pain||71||0||Give it a little funk, some ibuprofen, I’ll be fine.|
|Life Load||62||0||This is what having babies gets you. This will be the high water mark.|
|Mood||59||0||I think I’m usually at least 85-87.|
|Stress||57||0||If you grind your teeth until they break, likely this is the best you can achieve.|
|Sleep||47||0||Snoring wife. Now, Youkilis is hurt.|
|Weight||45||0||Run, fatty, run.|
Room for improvement. She told me that she’d start by adding more fiber into my diet so that I could kill my cravings for sweet stuff as well as process my fat easier. She recommended I get up to about 35 grams a day of fiber. That’s a literal crapload. For that reason, she advised easing in because the gas would be so intolerable that I’d probably compromise some of my relationships in life. Will get it in check. I don’t want Ellison to grow up knowing her father as a large man. Not that I’m there now, but I gotta frame that you can put a lotta weight onto. I’m 6’3″ and built like Kevin McHale. If I don’t keep my activity up, the weight attaches to every inch of skin on my body. My body doesn’t act like it used to. Post-marathon, I kept eating like I was training at 25 miles a week and just never drew back. Don’t know what I was at when I ran the marathon, but bet it was somewhere in the 210 range. So, I gotta weight coach. Her name is Diane. We have monthly calls. Gonna see if I can take out the fist-full of cheese I put on my eggs, less ice cream (thanks, honey), eat more fiber, keep up my 12 miles a week and begin ramping upward next week, take out snacking on sweets and instead enjoy a fruit and see where it puts me. Ain’t gonna be no fat dad.
Red Sox are crawling like wounded soldiers into the All-Star break. Youkilis hurt himself last night against Tampa Bay clearing dirt out of the batter’s box. What the hell? So Josh Beckett is out with back spasms, Clay Buchholz hurt his hammy playing National League ball, Manny Delcarmen has a right forearm strain, Jacoby Ellsbury still ailing with a fractured rib, Jeremy Hermida broke his ribs, Mike Lowell’s hip is acting up again, Jed Lowrie has mono, Victor Martinez fractured his thumb, Dustin Pedroia broke his foot, Jason Varitek broke his foot and now Youkilis has an ankle pain flare up when clearing out the batter’s box. They ain’t gonna hand the division to you because they feel sorry for you. We’re gonna have to win it. As of this morning, we’re 3.5 games back in the division and probably damn lucky to be there given the injuries. I didn’t even recognize the outfield yesterday. It looked like the split squad team.
Anyone ever notice the resemblance between Matt Garza and Vanilla Ice? It’s uncanny.
Sorry for all of the sports talk. Had to get it out of my system. Oh, we went Miyagi on the front garden here at the casa this last weekend. Brian came up and we completely obliterated the old garden and stuck about fifty plants into the ground. Gardening’s no joke. It’ll put a whooping on your ass. My legs are killing me from repeatedly driving a shovel 20 inches down into the ground. Ellison’s gonna have the best looking garden on the block.
Maybe have honed in on a middle name. More on that later as I’m cleared to release it. It might wait until arrival date.
Go Sox. Eat more fiber. Listen to the Ohio Players.