Oy Vey... how is it that I am really just weeks away from 40? I really think that any moment I am going to wake up and be 32. Really. I know I'm 32 and someone, somewhere has screwed up the math (and as bad as I am at math, I know I wouldn't have made this kind of mistake). I did make myself one promise, and I'm almost reluctant to write about it because I have a tendency to self-sabatoge....but I made myself a promise that I wouldn't turn 40 weighing what I then weighed. I knew it wasn't realistic to think that I could fit into my old jeans by my birthday, however I did want to weigh less than a certain number (that will remain un-announced.) I just might make it. It turns out that it was a realistic goal. Now I just have to stay on track. Cross your fingers and say a prayer. I would love to go into summer being able to wear my "old" clothes. I'm still not sleeping. Baby Scarlett is very vocal so letting her scream at night is only an option if I want to take the chance that my neighbors will show up at my door with guns drawn. She's actually very vocal about everything. She barks at me to feed her, she barks because she wants out of her kennel or playpen. She barks at Sam (or me) to play with her. Basically she's a bitchy little diva, but she's cute. And they do play together well. I happened to glance up and catch them both on the pillows in our living room looking up at me and somehow managed to snap a picture with my cell phone before they both moved. They look like they're no trouble don't they?????????
