I am about to get on the dreadmill. Not my favorite thing to do, but I certainly need to. I would much rather be watching the new episode of Desperate Housewives that I recorded from Sunday night, but I will resist the temptation of laziness and get on the treadmill instead. I can watch it while I stuff my face with lunch. You know, after you burn the calories, it is always a good idea to refill with more. It is always so frustrating when I am all sweaty and breathless and I'll look down and think that surely I have burned like 800 calories or something. No, it is usually a measly 200 or 250. That's like a freaking snack. And I usually have at least three snacks a day. No wonder why I can't seem to lose these last ten pounds.
Seriously, I have been more conscientious of what I am eating. I am trying to stay away from the processed foods that I love so much. Trying to stick with things that God made. But carbs are my weakness. I love cereal. I love snacky things like Wheat Thins . But I just need to eat more of the whole foods instead of these things that have been whipped up and processed and fried or baked and then preserved.
Yesterday afternoon, something a little troubling occurred. We were outside playing after school and the neighbors came out to play with us. Their little boy is just a week younger than Madalyn so they play pretty well together. David had run in the backyard for something and my neighbor and I were sitting on the driveway watching the little ones cruise in the pink Mustang. This car comes by and it caught both of our attention because of how slow he was going. We are the second house in our neighborhood, and there is only one way in and out, so there is a lot of traffic and people go pretty fast, and we often talk about how we hate it and that we ought to call the police and complain. I digress... so the man was creeping by, which is very unusual, and we both looked at each other and commented on how odd he seemed. So we stood up to get a better look at him and he had stopped his car up between our house and the first house on the street, had his window rolled down and was leaning out with his cell phone taking a picture. So I yelled out to him, "What are you doing?" He looked at me but didn't respond. So I yelled out to him again, louder this time. It startled him, and he sped off.
I don't know what the crazy dude was doing. The kids where in the front yard, but the way our yard slopes down so drastically from the street, I don't think he could have gotten a good picture of the kids. Besides, they were facing away from him. To me, it looked like his phone was pointed right at our house. Why would he want to take a picture of my house? I mean, if you are scoping out houses to burglarize, would you really want to be taking pictures of them. That would leave an evidence trail a mile long. I have racked my brain since it happened, and so has my husband, trying to figure out what he was up to, and we just can't figure it out. But anyway, the alarm is set and I will just have to be more aware of my surroundings than usual. Scott called the police and talked to them to see if what had happened here had possibly been reported in other areas, but they said no and that they would just make a note of it and try to heighten their patrols.
I feel relatively safe, and I can't let worry get the better of me. But it does make you feel a little afraid. Not really for myself or my stuff, but for my kids. I obviously don't want anyone to bother them, of course. But I don't want anyone coming in here when we are gone either and taking away their sense of security. Scott said he'd buy me a pistol if it would make me feel better. Uh, no thank you. That would make me more nervous than just leaving all the doors open and the the windows unlocked. I told him that I have some pretty big knives up there in the kitchen that I could use if I hear the alarm sound. I'm so tough. Ha!