The Whey It Is!

So, I have this task-master type for a son, right? I allowed him to move back in with me after he got out of the Army and since then he's been great to have around the house for the most part -- but I do actually remember the quieter, less abrasive household. It was nice - - it's gone now.

At least he lets me sleep in to 7:00 a.m. before demanding that I cook up a half dozen eggs and get his protein shake going. I wouldn't ordinarily do his bidding but I'm actually helping him eat the eggs and drink the shakes now. According to my personal Jedi I have to take in about 130 grams of protein each day to build muscle so that the muscle I'm now building can burn off the fat that's been hanging out in my gut for these past few (OK many) years. He's the expert on all things protein so I tend to listen to him. He's being kind and letting me off with an even 100 grams of protein, give or take since I'm also eating almonds, peanuts, and eggs during the day. His choice of protein shake is 100% Whey something something that he picked up at GNC. Me, being the Mom that I am, I am now doing internet research for cost effective comparisons and have found the same brand, the same size, the same exact product that HE bought at GNC for $64.99, at Amazon.com for $38.99 with .99 shipping. So, for $39.98 I'm getting the EXACT same thing he's getting for more. See, he's all about the protein, I'm all about the savings. He'll come around to my way of thinking next time - - what do you want to bet? LOL

We have cookies and creme, we have chocolate, vanilla, and now strawberry swirl. I put bananas and skim milk in mine in the morning, he pours in a couple of eggs and uses water - - but he's a monster and I'm just a monster's mom trying to lose 23 pounds and tone up. I think my son thinks he's Somalian - - he's not, but I think he thinks he should be - - he's almost got the war dance down to a T. (I should YouTube it) Protein makes muscle, muscle gets ripped and repaired constantly at the gym, and then breaks down and destroys all the fat inside of me.....YEA!! Can't wait. I have simple goals -- he's helping me meet them. One squinted-eyed, overbearing barked order at a time. God, I love my son. I'll actually miss him when I move to Chicago - - he won't come visit me. I don't know what it is about Reuben and large cities, but he doesn't do them. He was afraid they'd send him to Baghdad when he deployed to Iraq -- lucky for him they had him outside the rim of what could even be considered civilization - - his F.O.B. (Forward Operating Base) was one of the most remote camps in the country - - so far out it was closer to another country. He's not much into urban living.

He's threatened to fly into Chicago and have me pick him up and take him to a football game - - those types of crowds thrill him; it's the people on the streets, the big buildings, and rushing traffic that bother the kid. He'd rather be in the country driving a tractor over miles and miles of grain, or chasing his pig around the back 40. He complained the other day that he didn't actually have a "style" so he didn't fit in with the bigger city population. I looked at him; sized up his plaid torn shirt, loose jeans, old ball cap, scuffed up boots and beard and thought out loud "No Reu, you have "style" but they call that Red-Neck." For that I was given the approval of the smile - - the awe-shucks Mom look, and then it was RIGHT back to the lifting, the curls, the cardio, and the swimming. No rest for the weary - - or the fat!