It's a rainy, windy Monday. Rain is okay with me.
Wind, is not.
I'm needing me some Summer. Sugar was born on the first day of Summer. That was an awesome way to kick off my Summer that year.
I'm so ready for sunshine and warmth all day long. I'm ready for capris (I don't like shorts) and strappy, sandal-y shoes. Mostly flip flops. I'm ready to push my girls on the swing set in the pasture. I'm ready to garden (even though I stink at it) and get my hands dirty in the soil.
I love to be barefoot.
I'm looking forward to evenings on the deck in front of our ridiculous redneck wood stove.
I'm ready for bike rides and camping trips (did I say that out loud?) and maybe some hiking here and there (hiking? who am I?)
I love barbecues (cookouts) and the sunset at 9 pm.
I love that my girls are still young enough to run around outside in their skivvies. (some may not agree that we let them do that but i say let them be little while they are little. soon enough that sweet innocence is gone.)
I'd love to be at the beach several times this summer. I love walking in the sand, water washing over my feet. (I don't like sand any place else, though. Not even a little.)
Our house has large maple trees out front and during the summer they look awesome. Great for shade but mostly I love the coziness when I pull into our driveway.
Summer means I get to mow the lawn and our acre of pasture. I know some people hate it, but I truly love to mow the lawn. It's down time to me. I can sing, think, pray or just space out.
Another reason I love warm weather? Windows down in the car, wind blown hair, sweaty, wrinkly shirts and the radio up. I'd much rather be wind blown and wrinkly over having the air conditioner on. I thank my mom for that.
What do you love about Summer? Or if you aren't a Summer fan *gasp* what's your favorite season and why?
Monday, February 28, 2011
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Things learned when the husband and children are away
I don't like my kids being gone. I don't like the silence. I prefer their bickering over the quiet any time.
The bathroom floor stays dry when there aren't kiddos to bathe.
The dog and cats do not get fed without a five year old, dark-haired, blue-eyed animal lover here to do the dirty work of wandering down the stairs for their food.
Changing diapers is not so bad.
Naps are actually not for the birds. I enjoyed one. A three hour one.
A queen sized bed is too big for one person.
Going for coffee alone isn't all that bad. It was relaxing.
I can be awake in the wee hours and survive the following day.
The wooden spoon gets used for food more than spankings.
I panic when my car makes noise and there's no one to consult about it.
Alone time isn't necessarily all it's cracked up to be.
Two beers is not a healthy dinner. Especially when you didn't eat lunch and had yogurt for breakfast. It makes for a rumbly tumbly on Saturday morning. I was just too lazy to cook for myself.
YouTube music videos on Saturday mornings are a hoot. Oh the variety of music.
I can deal without them being here.
I just don't care for it as much as I thought I would.
The bathroom floor stays dry when there aren't kiddos to bathe.
The dog and cats do not get fed without a five year old, dark-haired, blue-eyed animal lover here to do the dirty work of wandering down the stairs for their food.
Changing diapers is not so bad.
Naps are actually not for the birds. I enjoyed one. A three hour one.
A queen sized bed is too big for one person.
Going for coffee alone isn't all that bad. It was relaxing.
I can be awake in the wee hours and survive the following day.
The wooden spoon gets used for food more than spankings.
I panic when my car makes noise and there's no one to consult about it.
Alone time isn't necessarily all it's cracked up to be.
Two beers is not a healthy dinner. Especially when you didn't eat lunch and had yogurt for breakfast. It makes for a rumbly tumbly on Saturday morning. I was just too lazy to cook for myself.
YouTube music videos on Saturday mornings are a hoot. Oh the variety of music.
I can deal without them being here.
I just don't care for it as much as I thought I would.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Remind Me
The next time my kids make me want to pull my hair out.
The next time I want just a few uninterrupted minutes.
The next time I want to clean out the fridge without helpers.
The next time I want to take a shower without a 2 year old opening the shower curtain five times.
Can you remind me that I actually do want all of those things? Because without them here, I'm miserable. I don't know what to do without 'em. I sit in my bed and watch Netflix. I drive to the next town over just for a burger. Visit my mom for 5 minutes and then head back home to crawl back in bed with Netflix.
I'm lively, huh?
I even called my husband and asked, "can I drive down there and see you?" To which he replied, "no."
So, I'm going to sit here and pick out another Netflix to watch. I might bust out the bread I bought yesterday at Costco and maybe some M&Ms.
The next time I want just a few uninterrupted minutes.
The next time I want to clean out the fridge without helpers.
The next time I want to take a shower without a 2 year old opening the shower curtain five times.
Can you remind me that I actually do want all of those things? Because without them here, I'm miserable. I don't know what to do without 'em. I sit in my bed and watch Netflix. I drive to the next town over just for a burger. Visit my mom for 5 minutes and then head back home to crawl back in bed with Netflix.
I'm lively, huh?
I even called my husband and asked, "can I drive down there and see you?" To which he replied, "no."
So, I'm going to sit here and pick out another Netflix to watch. I might bust out the bread I bought yesterday at Costco and maybe some M&Ms.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
I learned something from a bowl of cat food today
I wrote this last night. Not sure I'd want to publish it. Just going to.
She's gotten into the cat food since she was about nine months old. At that time I'd flick her little hand, tell her no-no and remove her from the situation.
She's nearly six and still getting into the cat food.
The consequences more severe than a flick, yet it doesn't seem to matter. Oh the stubbornness.
Today was one of those days.
She'd already been in trouble for sneaking snacks without permission. I told her she'd go without snacks until Friday. Later, at lunch time, she complained about the food I was preparing for her.
I made a hard decision. I told her she would go without lunch. Hoping she'd be grateful come dinner time.
So, I guess she decided since the cat food was on the floor it was fair game.
I sat her on my lap. Asking her why.
Looking her in the face. My hands on her little arms.
"Why, Jaylee? Why do you keep going after something that isn't good for you? Why do you keep doing something you know you aren't supposed to do?"
Tears streaming down her face.
"I don't know, Mama. I don't know."
And I broke inside.
In that moment I wasn't seeing my five year old, blue-eyed daughter.
I was seeing me.
I was seeing a girl who keeps going after things in life that are not good for her. Doing things I know I'm not supposed to. Things that down the road will hurt me.
My own tears started to fall.
I could just hear Him asking, "Why, Sarah? Why do you keep going after something that isn't good for you? Why do you keep doing something you know you aren't supposed to do?"
I don't know. I don't know.
More tears. Gut-wrenching tears.
I'm exhausted tonight.
My heart hurts. My head hurts. My eyes are puffy. My cheeks are dry from salty tears.
I'm a bit of an emotional mess.
Who knew there could be a life lesson in a bowl of cat food?
She's gotten into the cat food since she was about nine months old. At that time I'd flick her little hand, tell her no-no and remove her from the situation.
She's nearly six and still getting into the cat food.
The consequences more severe than a flick, yet it doesn't seem to matter. Oh the stubbornness.
Today was one of those days.
She'd already been in trouble for sneaking snacks without permission. I told her she'd go without snacks until Friday. Later, at lunch time, she complained about the food I was preparing for her.
I made a hard decision. I told her she would go without lunch. Hoping she'd be grateful come dinner time.
So, I guess she decided since the cat food was on the floor it was fair game.
I sat her on my lap. Asking her why.
Looking her in the face. My hands on her little arms.
"Why, Jaylee? Why do you keep going after something that isn't good for you? Why do you keep doing something you know you aren't supposed to do?"
Tears streaming down her face.
"I don't know, Mama. I don't know."
And I broke inside.
In that moment I wasn't seeing my five year old, blue-eyed daughter.
I was seeing me.
I was seeing a girl who keeps going after things in life that are not good for her. Doing things I know I'm not supposed to. Things that down the road will hurt me.
My own tears started to fall.
I could just hear Him asking, "Why, Sarah? Why do you keep going after something that isn't good for you? Why do you keep doing something you know you aren't supposed to do?"
I don't know. I don't know.
More tears. Gut-wrenching tears.
I'm exhausted tonight.
My heart hurts. My head hurts. My eyes are puffy. My cheeks are dry from salty tears.
I'm a bit of an emotional mess.
Who knew there could be a life lesson in a bowl of cat food?
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
and it's happened
a funk.
i knew it would come.
i'm not sure it's purely exercise i'm funking about. some of it's purely emotional. i won't deny it.
i'm just trying to overcome it.
i'm a weak person.
physically.
emotionally.
it's something i've always disliked about myself.
and now the funk is here and i'm panicking that when i got on the treadmill this morning that it's the last time i got on there. i'm worried this funk in my head and in my heart is going to affect all of me.
for once. in my life. i want to be strong.
i want to move on.
i knew it would come.
i'm not sure it's purely exercise i'm funking about. some of it's purely emotional. i won't deny it.
i'm just trying to overcome it.
i'm a weak person.
physically.
emotionally.
it's something i've always disliked about myself.
and now the funk is here and i'm panicking that when i got on the treadmill this morning that it's the last time i got on there. i'm worried this funk in my head and in my heart is going to affect all of me.
for once. in my life. i want to be strong.
i want to move on.
Picture Cute Spandexy Shirt without the actual picture
I bought a cute, new workout shirt.
The husband was with me when I tried it on. He really liked it and encouraged I buy it.
So I did.
This morning I decided to wear it for the first time for my treadmill time. Thought I'd take a picture ofmy its cuteness to show you.
Um, yeah.
I will never be allowed to wear this shirt in public. Why on earth the man thought this shirt was a good idea is beyond me. And why I couldn't tell in the mirror that it doesn't belong in public is beyond me too. In the mirror, it looks fine.
But take a picture of her cute black and hot pinkness and well, it's uh, not appropriate. Such a bummer.
She's cute. She helped me run faster. (kinda like when yer a kid and you get new shoes and you can jump higher and run faster.)
Josh has set a goal for my race. The dork (I say that lovingly) thinks I can run 'er in 30 minutes. That's a 10 minute mile. I'm having him tested for drug use today.
I got on the treadmill and set the pace for a 12 minute mile. That's 5 mph. I was able to do one mile at that speed before I wanted to vomit up my Folgers. It's progress. I'm trying to remember that.
Now I just need to find a cute, spandexy shirt that is appropriate to wear in public so I can run that 5k in 30 minutes.
The husband was with me when I tried it on. He really liked it and encouraged I buy it.
So I did.
This morning I decided to wear it for the first time for my treadmill time. Thought I'd take a picture of
Um, yeah.
I will never be allowed to wear this shirt in public. Why on earth the man thought this shirt was a good idea is beyond me. And why I couldn't tell in the mirror that it doesn't belong in public is beyond me too. In the mirror, it looks fine.
But take a picture of her cute black and hot pinkness and well, it's uh, not appropriate. Such a bummer.
She's cute. She helped me run faster. (kinda like when yer a kid and you get new shoes and you can jump higher and run faster.)
Josh has set a goal for my race. The dork (I say that lovingly) thinks I can run 'er in 30 minutes. That's a 10 minute mile. I'm having him tested for drug use today.
I got on the treadmill and set the pace for a 12 minute mile. That's 5 mph. I was able to do one mile at that speed before I wanted to vomit up my Folgers. It's progress. I'm trying to remember that.
Now I just need to find a cute, spandexy shirt that is appropriate to wear in public so I can run that 5k in 30 minutes.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Suggestions, please.
Due to some stroke of pixie dust or a fairy godmother or blessing from the Lord I will be all alone this weekend.
Like, all. alone.
{Yes, I'm announcing to the world that I'll be alone. But I have a big, scary dog and guns in my house. I don't think anyone will mess with me.}
I hadn't planned to have an entire weekend alone. I'd planned for a few hours. My husband was going to be skiing and I thought it'd be nice to find a babysitter for my girls for the morning and afternoon. However, my babysitting option was already taken.
I pouted.
And I may have sent a text venting my pouting to my SIL.
Several hours later she calls her brother (the guy I'm married to) and offers to keep our children.
FOR THE WEEKEND.
Mmhhmm, das right.
After he got off the phone we were kinda dumbfounded. Someone to take our kids for a weekend? Yeehaw! He gets to ski with his bff JH and I get the house to myself for a weekend.
I'm already miserable.
It'll be glorious for 2.5 hours and then I'll hit panic mode.
Because who am I if I am not being a wife and mother? I don't know how to just be Sarah. All day long, all week and month and year long I'm a wife and mama. I love it. I do. But to realize that a break is in store???
It's almost too much.
That's where you come in. I need help. I need things to do that will be fun, somewhat inexpensive, and will occupy my mind so I'm not freaking out the entire time that my kids are 3.5 hours away from me while I just..
just...
get to be me.
Suggestions, please.
Like, all. alone.
{Yes, I'm announcing to the world that I'll be alone. But I have a big, scary dog and guns in my house. I don't think anyone will mess with me.}
I hadn't planned to have an entire weekend alone. I'd planned for a few hours. My husband was going to be skiing and I thought it'd be nice to find a babysitter for my girls for the morning and afternoon. However, my babysitting option was already taken.
I pouted.
And I may have sent a text venting my pouting to my SIL.
Several hours later she calls her brother (the guy I'm married to) and offers to keep our children.
FOR THE WEEKEND.
Mmhhmm, das right.
After he got off the phone we were kinda dumbfounded. Someone to take our kids for a weekend? Yeehaw! He gets to ski with his bff JH and I get the house to myself for a weekend.
I'm already miserable.
It'll be glorious for 2.5 hours and then I'll hit panic mode.
Because who am I if I am not being a wife and mother? I don't know how to just be Sarah. All day long, all week and month and year long I'm a wife and mama. I love it. I do. But to realize that a break is in store???
It's almost too much.
That's where you come in. I need help. I need things to do that will be fun, somewhat inexpensive, and will occupy my mind so I'm not freaking out the entire time that my kids are 3.5 hours away from me while I just..
just...
get to be me.
Suggestions, please.
Friday, February 18, 2011
T Minus 22 days
That's when the 5K is. 22 DAYS. As in, 3 weeks plus one day.
Who am I kidding? I'm not sure I can do this. I'm freaking out.
My goal is to be running 5-6 miles per day here real quick like so that when the race comes 3 miles seems like nuttin.
I still need to get out on actual pavement soon. I have shin splints somethin' fierce (war wounds of my high school Cross Country days) so I'm a little nervous to hit road. My treadmill is so easy on my shins and knees but it's not reality.
There's a girl from high school and a friend of my dad's running. They asked if I'd like to run with them. hahahahahahaha. Uh, no. Someone has to pick upmy the rear of the race and that chick is going to be me.
It was so nice of Holli to offer but they'll be finished with the race before I even have my shoes tied.
Who am I kidding? I'm not sure I can do this. I'm freaking out.
My goal is to be running 5-6 miles per day here real quick like so that when the race comes 3 miles seems like nuttin.
I still need to get out on actual pavement soon. I have shin splints somethin' fierce (war wounds of my high school Cross Country days) so I'm a little nervous to hit road. My treadmill is so easy on my shins and knees but it's not reality.
There's a girl from high school and a friend of my dad's running. They asked if I'd like to run with them. hahahahahahaha. Uh, no. Someone has to pick up
It was so nice of Holli to offer but they'll be finished with the race before I even have my shoes tied.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Seventeen
The number of years we've been best friends.
We were 14 the summer I moved back to what I consider my hometown.
We'd met years earlier when her oldest brother and my aunt dated. But honestly, I thought she was weird.
Guess it took me a few years to come into my own kinda weird.
So, at age 14 we meet again and become inseperable for the next four years. There wasn't just Lindsey or just Sarah.
It was, "LindseyandSarah" or "SarahandLindsey" at school, church, our homes.
We knew everything about each other. The boys we liked, the heartaches, what our home lives were like, the teachers who favored us and those who didn't like us.
We never had many classes together but I'll never forget our Senior year when we had Economics together and the first day we showed up to class together, Mr. Scott said, "Sit where you want but LindseyandSarah have to be on opposite ends of the classroom."
Everyone laughed. Except us. I don't think we thought it was very funny at the time. It's hilarious to me now.
We, of course, did not listen and went ahead to sit together.
He sighed.
There wasn't a point of trying to keep us apart. It wouldn't work.
That was also the year we had our names written on the wall and paper towel dispenser in the bathroom. Good times. Good times. (and we totally knew who it was.)
I did everything I could to make Lindsey laugh. I slammed myself into lockers. I bumped into upper classmen. Tried holding hands with kids I didn't know. Talked to the garbage can as if my mom were in there. "Mom! I'll be home from school around 3!"
Anything to make her laugh.
She helped me feel like I belonged somewhere. For the first time in my life. I belonged as her friend and I belonged when I was in her home.
She encouraged me to not like the boys that would be bad for me. Then was my shoulder to cry on after I didn't listen.
She let me hang out with her and her boyfriend. Often. I'm sure they loved that.
Still. I belonged.
She was my maid of honor. And I was in her driveway the day she left for college a couple of months later.
I helped her pack up a couple of things. I gave her a gift. And then I had to leave.
I sobbed the entire way home and for many days afterward. Sure, we'd still be best friends. Forever. But it would be different now.
Everything would change.
We would change.
The next summer she came home from college with a fiance. The summer my dad died. The summer I was maid of honor in her wedding. A wedding to a boy I didn't grow up knowing but would learn to love because she loved him.
More years would go by that we'd visit when we could. And one day she handed me a calendar she made me for my birthday and the month of January held the due date of her first baby.
We laughed and, I think I may have cried. Out of happiness for her, but envy on my part. She called me in the middle of the night on her way to the hospital, in labor with a baby whose sex we did not know. And early the next morning I drove the three hours to see her new son just hours after he'd been born.
Lindsey was now in her element. All she'd ever wanted was to be a mama.
She was so beautiful to me that day.
A couple of years later she would open her home to me for a few weeks. Josh and I had filed for divorce but were talking about getting back together. I quit my job, packed up and headed to Lindsey's for a few weeks while Josh and I tried to sort things out over the phone.
Several months later she would be there within an hour of me giving birth to my first child. And five months later I'd be there within hours of her giving birth to her second child.
We don't talk weekly on the phone. Not even monthly. We've gone months without talking.
But best friends can do that.
And pick up where they've left off like no time has passed.
Two weeks ago I was painting my sister's living room. Lindsey called on her way to the hospital. The hospital where her father-in-law lay dying. We talked about how God could still perform a miracle and save Ron. I hurt for her. I hurt for her husband.
We got off the phone. I resumed my painting. And about 15 minutes later she called me back to tell me Ron was with Jesus now.
Though we had plans for the weekend of Ron's funeral, we cancelled them, drove three hours north and attended the most amazing Celebration of Life Service I've ever been to.
I cried through the entire service. Ron was a beautiful man. His life was inspiring. Lindsey was blessed to have such a wonderful father-in-law.
But he was blessed to have her, too.
After the service was over I searched out the man who practically helped raise me for four years of my life.
Lindsey's dad.
The man, who, if ever tired of me having breakfast, lunch or dinner at his house never showed it. The man who, after preaching on Sunday would drive us home and ask us what we'd learned about. We'd always say, "Jesus" and then bust up laughing. He'd tip his head down and look at us through his glasses. Smirk on his face.
Saturday it took everything I had not to just go running to him. I walked quickly without looking too obvious. But when he saw me, when he saw me...his face broke into this amazing, beautiful smile. I felt like I was home. He grabbed me, hugged me and kissed my cheek. "Sarah, oh Sarah! It's so good to see you."
And my heart.
My heart overflowed. Never has a man, a fatherly figure made me feel so loved as I felt in that moment.
When I got Lindsey as a best friend, I got her dad, too. A man that I'll forever love as my second dad.
We didn't stay at the service long after it was over. Long enough to chat with Linds a bit but it was time for us to head out.
We don't know when we'll see each other next but it doesn't matter.
We can always pick up right where we left off.
Because that's what best friends do.
Happy Birthday, Linds. I love you more than you could ever know. Thank you. For all of it.
We were 14 the summer I moved back to what I consider my hometown.
We'd met years earlier when her oldest brother and my aunt dated. But honestly, I thought she was weird.
Guess it took me a few years to come into my own kinda weird.
So, at age 14 we meet again and become inseperable for the next four years. There wasn't just Lindsey or just Sarah.
It was, "LindseyandSarah" or "SarahandLindsey" at school, church, our homes.
We knew everything about each other. The boys we liked, the heartaches, what our home lives were like, the teachers who favored us and those who didn't like us.
We never had many classes together but I'll never forget our Senior year when we had Economics together and the first day we showed up to class together, Mr. Scott said, "Sit where you want but LindseyandSarah have to be on opposite ends of the classroom."
Everyone laughed. Except us. I don't think we thought it was very funny at the time. It's hilarious to me now.
We, of course, did not listen and went ahead to sit together.
He sighed.
There wasn't a point of trying to keep us apart. It wouldn't work.
That was also the year we had our names written on the wall and paper towel dispenser in the bathroom. Good times. Good times. (and we totally knew who it was.)
I did everything I could to make Lindsey laugh. I slammed myself into lockers. I bumped into upper classmen. Tried holding hands with kids I didn't know. Talked to the garbage can as if my mom were in there. "Mom! I'll be home from school around 3!"
Anything to make her laugh.
She helped me feel like I belonged somewhere. For the first time in my life. I belonged as her friend and I belonged when I was in her home.
She encouraged me to not like the boys that would be bad for me. Then was my shoulder to cry on after I didn't listen.
She let me hang out with her and her boyfriend. Often. I'm sure they loved that.
Still. I belonged.
She was my maid of honor. And I was in her driveway the day she left for college a couple of months later.
I helped her pack up a couple of things. I gave her a gift. And then I had to leave.
I sobbed the entire way home and for many days afterward. Sure, we'd still be best friends. Forever. But it would be different now.
Everything would change.
We would change.
The next summer she came home from college with a fiance. The summer my dad died. The summer I was maid of honor in her wedding. A wedding to a boy I didn't grow up knowing but would learn to love because she loved him.
More years would go by that we'd visit when we could. And one day she handed me a calendar she made me for my birthday and the month of January held the due date of her first baby.
We laughed and, I think I may have cried. Out of happiness for her, but envy on my part. She called me in the middle of the night on her way to the hospital, in labor with a baby whose sex we did not know. And early the next morning I drove the three hours to see her new son just hours after he'd been born.
Lindsey was now in her element. All she'd ever wanted was to be a mama.
She was so beautiful to me that day.
A couple of years later she would open her home to me for a few weeks. Josh and I had filed for divorce but were talking about getting back together. I quit my job, packed up and headed to Lindsey's for a few weeks while Josh and I tried to sort things out over the phone.
Several months later she would be there within an hour of me giving birth to my first child. And five months later I'd be there within hours of her giving birth to her second child.
We don't talk weekly on the phone. Not even monthly. We've gone months without talking.
But best friends can do that.
And pick up where they've left off like no time has passed.
Two weeks ago I was painting my sister's living room. Lindsey called on her way to the hospital. The hospital where her father-in-law lay dying. We talked about how God could still perform a miracle and save Ron. I hurt for her. I hurt for her husband.
We got off the phone. I resumed my painting. And about 15 minutes later she called me back to tell me Ron was with Jesus now.
Though we had plans for the weekend of Ron's funeral, we cancelled them, drove three hours north and attended the most amazing Celebration of Life Service I've ever been to.
I cried through the entire service. Ron was a beautiful man. His life was inspiring. Lindsey was blessed to have such a wonderful father-in-law.
But he was blessed to have her, too.
After the service was over I searched out the man who practically helped raise me for four years of my life.
Lindsey's dad.
The man, who, if ever tired of me having breakfast, lunch or dinner at his house never showed it. The man who, after preaching on Sunday would drive us home and ask us what we'd learned about. We'd always say, "Jesus" and then bust up laughing. He'd tip his head down and look at us through his glasses. Smirk on his face.
Saturday it took everything I had not to just go running to him. I walked quickly without looking too obvious. But when he saw me, when he saw me...his face broke into this amazing, beautiful smile. I felt like I was home. He grabbed me, hugged me and kissed my cheek. "Sarah, oh Sarah! It's so good to see you."
And my heart.
My heart overflowed. Never has a man, a fatherly figure made me feel so loved as I felt in that moment.
 |
| me, Pastor Dave, and lindsey's baby sister |
When I got Lindsey as a best friend, I got her dad, too. A man that I'll forever love as my second dad.
We didn't stay at the service long after it was over. Long enough to chat with Linds a bit but it was time for us to head out.
 |
We don't know when we'll see each other next but it doesn't matter.
We can always pick up right where we left off.
Because that's what best friends do.
Happy Birthday, Linds. I love you more than you could ever know. Thank you. For all of it.
Monday, February 14, 2011
Why I loathe Valentine's Day {alternately titled: I have issues I need to resolve.}
Happy Freaking Valentine's Day.
I don't like this holiday. In fact, I don't think it should even be one. It's completely and totally commercialized and what have you.
I'm over it.
I used to be a fan. I used to like this stupid day.
When I was a kid.
When I decorated a shoe box with stickers and received a Valentine from Matt S. or Chris S. (both I'd still love to get Valentine's from, but whatev.) ☺ Those were good years.
And then the years that I got Carnations and small stuffed teddy bears.
From my dad.
With a card that read, get this..."love, Dad."
But I never called him that, so I'm sure it took everything in him to even sign it that way or tell the lady over the phone at the florist to sign it that way.
There was effort involved. After all these years I appreciate the effort he put into letting me know that he loved me.
Carnations are not my favorite flower and bears are not my favorite stuffed animal. But I can't look at either one without thinking of my dad.
Today I did a really dumb thing. I took my girls on the half mile walk to the cemetery (dictionary as Sugar calls it) and we saw my dad's headstone. Dumb idea. Dumb.
My nose started to sting. Tears welled up in my eyes. I took a picture of his headstone (not sure why) and announced to the girls it was time to leave. "But I'm not done talking to Grandpa Mark!" Oh but you are child.
You are.
So we left. We walked back in the cold. I got after the girls for trying to bring every ounce of mud back with us. I made them take their shoes off at the door. And then I just looked at the stupid picture of his headstone.
Why Valentine's Day to decide to visit the cemetery? No clue. Obviously because he's there. And dead.
And now I have no one to send me flowers.
I don't like this holiday. In fact, I don't think it should even be one. It's completely and totally commercialized and what have you.
I'm over it.
I used to be a fan. I used to like this stupid day.
When I was a kid.
When I decorated a shoe box with stickers and received a Valentine from Matt S. or Chris S. (both I'd still love to get Valentine's from, but whatev.) ☺ Those were good years.
And then the years that I got Carnations and small stuffed teddy bears.
From my dad.
With a card that read, get this..."love, Dad."
But I never called him that, so I'm sure it took everything in him to even sign it that way or tell the lady over the phone at the florist to sign it that way.
There was effort involved. After all these years I appreciate the effort he put into letting me know that he loved me.
Carnations are not my favorite flower and bears are not my favorite stuffed animal. But I can't look at either one without thinking of my dad.
Today I did a really dumb thing. I took my girls on the half mile walk to the cemetery (dictionary as Sugar calls it) and we saw my dad's headstone. Dumb idea. Dumb.
My nose started to sting. Tears welled up in my eyes. I took a picture of his headstone (not sure why) and announced to the girls it was time to leave. "But I'm not done talking to Grandpa Mark!" Oh but you are child.
You are.
So we left. We walked back in the cold. I got after the girls for trying to bring every ounce of mud back with us. I made them take their shoes off at the door. And then I just looked at the stupid picture of his headstone.
Why Valentine's Day to decide to visit the cemetery? No clue. Obviously because he's there. And dead.
And now I have no one to send me flowers.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
I am currently writing this post with toothpaste on my face
In hopes that my zits will be gone soon.
It's that fabulous week of the month where zits decide to raid my face. I'm not a fan. I've actually felt like I've had them under control but with all the running, exercising and sweating, it seems they've decided to take over my life.
And my face.
Stupid high school skin.
I'm nearly 13 years post high school and yet I still have zits. My mom is 33 years post high school and still has 'em so I'm thinking my future of zit-free-ness is not gonna happen.
I did it.
Today I registered myself for my first 5K. Well, it's not actually my first. I did one up in Bickleton in '95 but I was 15 and used to running 5 miles or so daily. This is my first 5K since allowing an extra 20+ lbs be added to my 5'2" frame.
I got on the treadmill early this morning. I kicked up the incline and the speed and went to town. After 3 miles I felt like I could have gone more but decided to be done for the day. I felt great. I showered. My husband left with the girls on a bike ride and I decided it was time to sign myself up.
I have a month to get ready.
There's a St. Patrick's Day Dash in Seattle that I considered but found one much closer to home and quite a bit cheaper. And shorter. :) So, I'll run 3.1 miles on March 12th at 10 am. I'm now in search of green striped tights to go with the green t-shirt I bought at Target today. I want to be completely decked out in awesome green apparel. If you can't finish first at least look amazing finishing last, right?
That's going to be my motto.
After all, someone's gotta be last.
I bought a pair of jeans yesterday. They are short. Labeled "short" even, and yet they are a little too long. It's official. I'm a midget.
For dinner tonight I ate goat cheese, Wheat Thins and a glass (or two) of Merlot. Yum. I could have eaten more. I could have had more to drink. But if I'm going to get on the treadmill again tonight I best keep myself a leetle sober.
Last night both girls ended up in bed with us.
BOTH GIRLS.
sigh.
I didn't sleep well. I think I might duct tape them to their beds tonight. And down a couple more glasses of wine before I go to sleep.
I want some restful sleep.
I have a busy week ahead.
And my zits need some rest too.
It's that fabulous week of the month where zits decide to raid my face. I'm not a fan. I've actually felt like I've had them under control but with all the running, exercising and sweating, it seems they've decided to take over my life.
And my face.
Stupid high school skin.
I'm nearly 13 years post high school and yet I still have zits. My mom is 33 years post high school and still has 'em so I'm thinking my future of zit-free-ness is not gonna happen.
I did it.
Today I registered myself for my first 5K. Well, it's not actually my first. I did one up in Bickleton in '95 but I was 15 and used to running 5 miles or so daily. This is my first 5K since allowing an extra 20+ lbs be added to my 5'2" frame.
I got on the treadmill early this morning. I kicked up the incline and the speed and went to town. After 3 miles I felt like I could have gone more but decided to be done for the day. I felt great. I showered. My husband left with the girls on a bike ride and I decided it was time to sign myself up.
I have a month to get ready.
There's a St. Patrick's Day Dash in Seattle that I considered but found one much closer to home and quite a bit cheaper. And shorter. :) So, I'll run 3.1 miles on March 12th at 10 am. I'm now in search of green striped tights to go with the green t-shirt I bought at Target today. I want to be completely decked out in awesome green apparel. If you can't finish first at least look amazing finishing last, right?
That's going to be my motto.
After all, someone's gotta be last.
I bought a pair of jeans yesterday. They are short. Labeled "short" even, and yet they are a little too long. It's official. I'm a midget.
For dinner tonight I ate goat cheese, Wheat Thins and a glass (or two) of Merlot. Yum. I could have eaten more. I could have had more to drink. But if I'm going to get on the treadmill again tonight I best keep myself a leetle sober.
Last night both girls ended up in bed with us.
BOTH GIRLS.
sigh.
I didn't sleep well. I think I might duct tape them to their beds tonight. And down a couple more glasses of wine before I go to sleep.
I want some restful sleep.
I have a busy week ahead.
And my zits need some rest too.
Friday, February 11, 2011
diapers, thumbs, pacifiers, blankies and sleeping in my bed
I have a near 3 year old in diapers.
A near 6 year old who still sucks her thumb.
They both have blankies.
And the three year old has been pacifier free for a couple of months now.
The 6 year old worms her way into our bed 4-5 nights a week, snuggling between the two of us.
I'm sure she enjoys the security of sleeping between her mama and daddy and I do love snuggling with her but whether she comes to our bed at 2 am or 5 am, I cannot for the life of me fall back to sleep with her in our bed. Josh says he doesn't sleep well either.
It's hard for us to make her stop though. There will be a day she doesn't want to sleep between us two. And then we'll miss it.
The thumb is beginning to just be ridiculous.
I know, there are many of you out there who sucked your thumbs into high school and you turned out just fine. (who says, though??) ;)
But Sugar's thumb-sucking has molded the roof of her mouth to a not so pretty state and she has quite an overbite.
I appreciated the thumb early on because it was never lost. I never had to buy a new one. I never had to crawl around on my hands and knees in the wee hours of the night looking for it.
Now, it's a problem.
The child in diapers loves to be in diapers. Loves it. She has zero desire to potty train. And I've learned not to push it but still. She loves to wear panties but then she just pees them. sigh.
I don't plan to take their blankets away. Ever.
Mostly because of my own issues with a certain creamy yellow blankie I had that was left in our house in California when I was just 5. Still makes me sad. (Is it time to go back to counseling?)
I just bought a box of diapers at Costco last Thursday and then my FIL dropped off a box a couple of days later. These had better be the last diapers this kid needs.
Thinking of duct-taping the thumb. I know, it sounds harsh. But seriously. The nagging doesn't work. We try. We do. Even Spice bugs her about it now. "Ay-yay, thumb. Out!" It's naughty and oh so funny. And it pisses Sugar right off.
I know each of these things are seasons and soon enough they'll be over and I'll miss them in some sick way. I think it's a mom thing. At least it's a this mom thing.
A near 6 year old who still sucks her thumb.
They both have blankies.
And the three year old has been pacifier free for a couple of months now.
The 6 year old worms her way into our bed 4-5 nights a week, snuggling between the two of us.
I'm sure she enjoys the security of sleeping between her mama and daddy and I do love snuggling with her but whether she comes to our bed at 2 am or 5 am, I cannot for the life of me fall back to sleep with her in our bed. Josh says he doesn't sleep well either.
It's hard for us to make her stop though. There will be a day she doesn't want to sleep between us two. And then we'll miss it.
The thumb is beginning to just be ridiculous.
I know, there are many of you out there who sucked your thumbs into high school and you turned out just fine. (who says, though??) ;)
But Sugar's thumb-sucking has molded the roof of her mouth to a not so pretty state and she has quite an overbite.
I appreciated the thumb early on because it was never lost. I never had to buy a new one. I never had to crawl around on my hands and knees in the wee hours of the night looking for it.
Now, it's a problem.
The child in diapers loves to be in diapers. Loves it. She has zero desire to potty train. And I've learned not to push it but still. She loves to wear panties but then she just pees them. sigh.
I don't plan to take their blankets away. Ever.
Mostly because of my own issues with a certain creamy yellow blankie I had that was left in our house in California when I was just 5. Still makes me sad. (Is it time to go back to counseling?)
I just bought a box of diapers at Costco last Thursday and then my FIL dropped off a box a couple of days later. These had better be the last diapers this kid needs.
Thinking of duct-taping the thumb. I know, it sounds harsh. But seriously. The nagging doesn't work. We try. We do. Even Spice bugs her about it now. "Ay-yay, thumb. Out!" It's naughty and oh so funny. And it pisses Sugar right off.
I know each of these things are seasons and soon enough they'll be over and I'll miss them in some sick way. I think it's a mom thing. At least it's a this mom thing.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
My Thoughts on VD Advertising
VD is of course Valentine's Day. What were you thinking it was?
With VD approaching real quick like (4 days, dudes. 4 days) ads for lingerie, condoms, and KY are flooding our weekly Shopper.
I'd be more inclined to buy lingerie if the pictures were to show a woman with stretch marks, love handles and a lost belly button due to a certain removal of the right side ofmy her colon.
I may not have gone to college. I may have barely graduated from GHS. But I'm smart enough to know that that itty bitty outfit she's wearing in that picture will not, I repeat will not look like that on me.
I also wanna know why it's okay to show a woman in her lingerie in the ad but not a man in sight wearing his lingerie? Not that I wanna see that. But still. Still.
With VD approaching real quick like (4 days, dudes. 4 days) ads for lingerie, condoms, and KY are flooding our weekly Shopper.
I'd be more inclined to buy lingerie if the pictures were to show a woman with stretch marks, love handles and a lost belly button due to a certain removal of the right side of
I may not have gone to college. I may have barely graduated from GHS. But I'm smart enough to know that that itty bitty outfit she's wearing in that picture will not, I repeat will not look like that on me.
I also wanna know why it's okay to show a woman in her lingerie in the ad but not a man in sight wearing his lingerie? Not that I wanna see that. But still. Still.
{too tired to think of a clever title}
I vented yesterday.
And then I deleted it.
Thank you to those who saw it and either sent me emails or texts with encouraging words.
Sorry for the spewing.
In other news:
In my post of firsts I stated that my husband's friend Dale gave me my first black eye. And that his friend Ken tried to kill me in a car accident. Let me explain both. They're both funny. The incidents, not necessarily the friends. :)
The car accident I've mentioned before and have even posted a picture of the car after the crash. Long story short, four of us were riding in a 240Z, a Z is most commonly a 2 seater. This one was. 2 people in the back, Josh and his little cousin and Ken and I were up front. Ken took a corner a leetle too fast and lost control and we slammed into a rock wall at Mt. Rainier.
Everyone was fine. The car was totaled. That was the first of a few times Ken tried to kill me. (Rafting, anyone?)
The black eye is a funny story. Dale and I were jumping on a trampoline and Dale decided to be really cool and practice some wrestling moves on me. He threw me down on the trampoline, my knee slammed into my eye (seriously) and I pretended to be okay. When really I wanted to make Dale paaaay. I ended up with a black eye. It was my first and have yet to have another one.
Yoga was lonely without Amber this morning. No one to understand the fact that I can't do the crocodile move. No one to roll their eyes with me when the instructor says, "Now if this is too easy for you, you can do...." Um, none of it's too easy for me thankyouverymuch.
I made rib eyes (Emily!) last night with mashed baby reds full of bacon, sour cream, butter and fried onions. I made green beans with cream of mushroom soup, bacon and fried onions and threw in some cheese for good measure. The husband purchased some booze and french bread. It was a wonderful dinner full of bacon and fried onions. And a beer. (Josh had two, the lush)
I haven't had Starbucks since Tuesday. I don't plan to have it til Saturday on our way to Spokane. I can so do this.
I have a dentist appt next week. Three fillings. THREE. What the hay?
I'm skipping MOTS today. (MOPS without the P) My kids are currently healthy and if I go to MOTS and put them in the kid classes by Saturday or Sunday they'll be sick. No thanks.
My dog smells.
We played CandyLand last night and for once Sugar won. She was ecstatic. We aren't the kind of parents to let our kid win. Fair and square, man. Fair and square.
I wore my "I carried a watermelon" shirt last week. It's been awhile since I've worn it. It's still too tight but not as tight as it was. I love that shirt. (Thanks, Ammer. Still the best birthday gift I've ever received.)
Lowercase Ms are not easy for a 5 year old to write. At least not my 5 year old.
I let her watch 3 short movies on Netflix yesterday so I could do what I wanted to do. I'm out of the running for Best Mother of the Year.
Still struggling with not attending my niece's party this weekend. I hate letting people down. Especially her. Especially her.
I want a vacation. Just a couple of days. Some place warm where I can put on a tank top, flip flops and sit by a pool with a book and a fruity drink or 7.
I've started getting on the treadmill twice a day now. Once in the morning. Once after the girls are in bed. I should be on there now but, I'm exhausted. I just want to sleep. The evening treadmill time is nice but my legs are usually pretty sore from the morning exercise. I have 20-25 pounds that need to come off, stat, so I need to stick with this.
Notice how most of my posts are in list format lately? Sorry. I don't want to delete my blog but I sure don't feel like I have much to write. So I just write out the weird stuff that goes on in my brain or in my day. Hopefully someday my writing will get back to normal. Whatever that is.
Thanks for sticking around while I muddle through. You are much appreciated.
And then I deleted it.
Thank you to those who saw it and either sent me emails or texts with encouraging words.
Sorry for the spewing.
In other news:
In my post of firsts I stated that my husband's friend Dale gave me my first black eye. And that his friend Ken tried to kill me in a car accident. Let me explain both. They're both funny. The incidents, not necessarily the friends. :)
The car accident I've mentioned before and have even posted a picture of the car after the crash. Long story short, four of us were riding in a 240Z, a Z is most commonly a 2 seater. This one was. 2 people in the back, Josh and his little cousin and Ken and I were up front. Ken took a corner a leetle too fast and lost control and we slammed into a rock wall at Mt. Rainier.
Everyone was fine. The car was totaled. That was the first of a few times Ken tried to kill me. (Rafting, anyone?)
The black eye is a funny story. Dale and I were jumping on a trampoline and Dale decided to be really cool and practice some wrestling moves on me. He threw me down on the trampoline, my knee slammed into my eye (seriously) and I pretended to be okay. When really I wanted to make Dale paaaay. I ended up with a black eye. It was my first and have yet to have another one.
Yoga was lonely without Amber this morning. No one to understand the fact that I can't do the crocodile move. No one to roll their eyes with me when the instructor says, "Now if this is too easy for you, you can do...." Um, none of it's too easy for me thankyouverymuch.
I made rib eyes (Emily!) last night with mashed baby reds full of bacon, sour cream, butter and fried onions. I made green beans with cream of mushroom soup, bacon and fried onions and threw in some cheese for good measure. The husband purchased some booze and french bread. It was a wonderful dinner full of bacon and fried onions. And a beer. (Josh had two, the lush)
I haven't had Starbucks since Tuesday. I don't plan to have it til Saturday on our way to Spokane. I can so do this.
I have a dentist appt next week. Three fillings. THREE. What the hay?
I'm skipping MOTS today. (MOPS without the P) My kids are currently healthy and if I go to MOTS and put them in the kid classes by Saturday or Sunday they'll be sick. No thanks.
My dog smells.
We played CandyLand last night and for once Sugar won. She was ecstatic. We aren't the kind of parents to let our kid win. Fair and square, man. Fair and square.
I wore my "I carried a watermelon" shirt last week. It's been awhile since I've worn it. It's still too tight but not as tight as it was. I love that shirt. (Thanks, Ammer. Still the best birthday gift I've ever received.)
Lowercase Ms are not easy for a 5 year old to write. At least not my 5 year old.
I let her watch 3 short movies on Netflix yesterday so I could do what I wanted to do. I'm out of the running for Best Mother of the Year.
Still struggling with not attending my niece's party this weekend. I hate letting people down. Especially her. Especially her.
I want a vacation. Just a couple of days. Some place warm where I can put on a tank top, flip flops and sit by a pool with a book and a fruity drink or 7.
I've started getting on the treadmill twice a day now. Once in the morning. Once after the girls are in bed. I should be on there now but, I'm exhausted. I just want to sleep. The evening treadmill time is nice but my legs are usually pretty sore from the morning exercise. I have 20-25 pounds that need to come off, stat, so I need to stick with this.
Notice how most of my posts are in list format lately? Sorry. I don't want to delete my blog but I sure don't feel like I have much to write. So I just write out the weird stuff that goes on in my brain or in my day. Hopefully someday my writing will get back to normal. Whatever that is.
Thanks for sticking around while I muddle through. You are much appreciated.
Wednesday, February 09, 2011
at the end of the post i confess just how shallow i really am
The four year anniversary of the removal of my appendix, malignant tumor and half my colon is coming up.
My 31st birthday is coming up.
I have a lot of wrinkles by my eyes. (let's call 'em laugh lines, k?)
And, the other day my husband was playing with my hair and started counting all my gray hairs. He was laughing. Because there's a lot.
Warm weather is coming.
What do any of these things have to do with the other?
Life.
My life.
The days are not slowing down. In fact, they feel like they're speeding up.
About a month or so ago I was realizing all of the things I mentioned above. I'm not getting any younger. And I sure wasn't getting any healthier.
I take for granted the fact that because I never had chemotherapy or radiation that I didn't really have cancer. But I did. I hadn't taken care of my body in the years leading up to my surgery and I surely haven't taken care of it in the years after.
I looked forward to turning 30. And now I'm nearing 31 and wonder what I've done with myself over these last 8 months and 6 days. (who's counting?)
I've complained a lot about the way I look. The way I feel. And until a few weeks ago, never did anything about it except complain.
There was motivation behind my decision to finally do something about my body. My mood. My life.
I want to be able to run around with my girls outside once it's warm enough to do so. I don't want to feel lethargic. I want to be fun. I want to chase Spice and hear her laugh. Seriously, the kid has the best laugh EVER. If it were the only sound I could hear for the rest of my life I would never tire of it.
I want to have the energy to teach Sugar to ride a bike. Finally. She's never had a desire to get off her trike and because I've been lazy, I haven't really pushed the deal either. But, she's almost 6 and I do believe it's time.
Josh loves to hike and bike and go for walks and I hate that he has to drag me to do these things with him. I want to enjoy them with him. I want to be able to keep up with him as we walk, bike, hike.
Summer's coming. Warm weather. I'm a jeans and tank top girl. Thin or not, I'm not a fan of shorts. I've always, always hated my legs. But Summer requires wearing a bathing suit from time to time and I want to be comfortable getting in one if we go somewhere.
But I'm gonna be honest, these weren't the only motivators for me.
I just want to look good.
I want to feel good about the way I look.
I don't want to hate stripping off my clothes to get in the shower because I might catch a glimpse of myself in our full length mirror. And right now I do.
My husband is a thin, toned, hot guy. I want to feel deserving. I know that makes me sound shallow and I have never claimed to be anything less so I really don't wanna hear that he loves me no matter what I look like. Yeah, it's probably true but who wouldn't want their spouse to try hard to look good?
I know I like how Josh looks. I'm a big fan of his shirts...off. tmi? whoops. I'm just saying.
There's not much of a point or reason for this post other than when I don't want to go to the gym or get on my treadmill, I want to look back here and remember why I got started in the first place.
My 31st birthday is coming up.
I have a lot of wrinkles by my eyes. (let's call 'em laugh lines, k?)
And, the other day my husband was playing with my hair and started counting all my gray hairs. He was laughing. Because there's a lot.
Warm weather is coming.
What do any of these things have to do with the other?
Life.
My life.
The days are not slowing down. In fact, they feel like they're speeding up.
About a month or so ago I was realizing all of the things I mentioned above. I'm not getting any younger. And I sure wasn't getting any healthier.
I take for granted the fact that because I never had chemotherapy or radiation that I didn't really have cancer. But I did. I hadn't taken care of my body in the years leading up to my surgery and I surely haven't taken care of it in the years after.
I looked forward to turning 30. And now I'm nearing 31 and wonder what I've done with myself over these last 8 months and 6 days. (who's counting?)
I've complained a lot about the way I look. The way I feel. And until a few weeks ago, never did anything about it except complain.
There was motivation behind my decision to finally do something about my body. My mood. My life.
I want to be able to run around with my girls outside once it's warm enough to do so. I don't want to feel lethargic. I want to be fun. I want to chase Spice and hear her laugh. Seriously, the kid has the best laugh EVER. If it were the only sound I could hear for the rest of my life I would never tire of it.
I want to have the energy to teach Sugar to ride a bike. Finally. She's never had a desire to get off her trike and because I've been lazy, I haven't really pushed the deal either. But, she's almost 6 and I do believe it's time.
Josh loves to hike and bike and go for walks and I hate that he has to drag me to do these things with him. I want to enjoy them with him. I want to be able to keep up with him as we walk, bike, hike.
Summer's coming. Warm weather. I'm a jeans and tank top girl. Thin or not, I'm not a fan of shorts. I've always, always hated my legs. But Summer requires wearing a bathing suit from time to time and I want to be comfortable getting in one if we go somewhere.
But I'm gonna be honest, these weren't the only motivators for me.
I just want to look good.
I want to feel good about the way I look.
I don't want to hate stripping off my clothes to get in the shower because I might catch a glimpse of myself in our full length mirror. And right now I do.
My husband is a thin, toned, hot guy. I want to feel deserving. I know that makes me sound shallow and I have never claimed to be anything less so I really don't wanna hear that he loves me no matter what I look like. Yeah, it's probably true but who wouldn't want their spouse to try hard to look good?
I know I like how Josh looks. I'm a big fan of his shirts...off. tmi? whoops. I'm just saying.
There's not much of a point or reason for this post other than when I don't want to go to the gym or get on my treadmill, I want to look back here and remember why I got started in the first place.
Tuesday, February 08, 2011
Shower
The alarm on my phone went off at 5 AM.
I was out of bed by 5:05 and out of the house by 5:15.
Arriving at the gym, I put in my earbuds, found my Pandora app and, much to my dismay, it wasn't working.
I walked in, scanned my my little card thingy to let them know that heck yes I am here at 5:30.
I found the bike I always use to be vacant but of course someone was right next to me. I felt silly getting on a bike right next to someone when so many others were available. But that's my bike. The one I'm used to. The one that was still set for my height because I was just on it at 7:30 PM last night.
There was about 15 minutes before yoga started so I rode a little while, still perturbed that Pandora was not working and that I'm sitting next to this guy when there's a ton of other machines I could have ridden on. But the other ones weren't the ones I'm used to.
Amber showed up. We signed into yoga, got our mats that smell like dirty, sweaty people (we really need to buy our own) and discussed how our arms were tired. Because, hello, it hadn't even been 12 hours since we'd been here last.
Yoga was relaxing. I'm thankful that the class isn't the freaky yoga I've heard about. And if you're into freaky yoga, go for it, but I'm not really all about becoming one with my body and all that jazz. I'm into learning how to stretch so I can reach past my belly button and maybe be able to touch all the way to my knees someday.
I drove home quickly. Exceeding the speed limit by 5 mph. I took the back highway to my house. Took a left and was stuck behind someone going 35 in a 50 mph zone. So much for the good time I made on the freeway.
Entering the kitchen, I find that my husband made pancakes for the girls. He wasn't thrilled with the recipe he'd used and he wasn't thrilled that I only have wheat flour in the house right now. Makes for some hearty pancakes. He felt bad that he didn't know how to make Spice's pancakes. So, she got wheat pancakes. Should make for a lovely attitude in her today.
Josh has been so supportive and encouraging. Despite the fact that he stole my scale from me on Sunday. He cares for the girls while I go to the gym if we can't find someone to watch them so we can both go. He cares for the girls while I jump on the treadmill in the mornings and/or evenings.
This morning was no different. After saying good morning to the girls, I put on a pair of socks with my tennies (no socks for yoga) and hopped on the treadmill. Thankfully Pandora was working. I cranked up some Jerrod Niemann radio and got my heart rate up. Staring out at the cars on our busy road.
Sweat pouring off my head and down some other places, I stepped off the treadmill, took my earbuds out, turned the TV on for Sugar and told Spice to be a good girl while I showered. I set my iPhone on the back of the toilet while I showered. Listening to country song after country song. I kept turning up the heat of my water.
Lingering.
I'm normally a 3-5 minute shower kinda girl.
Today I stood there.
Thinking about a funeral service I'm attending this weekend. In going to the funeral I'm breaking plans with my 15 year old niece. I hate to do it. I've been going back and forth about it since Friday night. Finally, last night deciding that I couldn't make the decision myself, I asked Josh what we should do.
"We need to be in Spokane."
And so, we'll head to Spokane for a funeral service instead of Portland for an Un-Valentine's Party full of awesome teenagers.
The shower got hotter, my mood even more blah now.
I'm not good at funerals. But when your best friend of 17 years, who was there for you when your dad drown, loses her father-in-law...you go. You cancel previously made plans to show your love and support. And you apologize to the niece you love so much and hate letting down.
My thoughts turned to another friend. Another friend who hurts. A friend that I wish I had words for but don't. It's a rare occasion that I'm without words, so when I am, it really bugs me. I don't want to spout out reassurances, I don't want to say, "I'm sorry, it'll get better." A friend doesn't lie. So sometimes a friend says nothing and just listens. Sometimes we're just here to hear. To listen. To be that venting place. I'm thankful to be found trustworthy with this friend.
Ten minutes in the shower and I knew it was time to get out.
Just a little longer.
Because once I get out, I have to start school with Sugar. I have to be prepared for battles and tears and butting heads.
Shower off. Steamy room. Not so clear thoughts.
Towel dry my hair. Deodorant. Mousse. De-frizz. Tank top and comfy pants. Hoodie and slippers.
Finally ready to face my day.
I was out of bed by 5:05 and out of the house by 5:15.
Arriving at the gym, I put in my earbuds, found my Pandora app and, much to my dismay, it wasn't working.
I walked in, scanned my my little card thingy to let them know that heck yes I am here at 5:30.
I found the bike I always use to be vacant but of course someone was right next to me. I felt silly getting on a bike right next to someone when so many others were available. But that's my bike. The one I'm used to. The one that was still set for my height because I was just on it at 7:30 PM last night.
There was about 15 minutes before yoga started so I rode a little while, still perturbed that Pandora was not working and that I'm sitting next to this guy when there's a ton of other machines I could have ridden on. But the other ones weren't the ones I'm used to.
Amber showed up. We signed into yoga, got our mats that smell like dirty, sweaty people (we really need to buy our own) and discussed how our arms were tired. Because, hello, it hadn't even been 12 hours since we'd been here last.
Yoga was relaxing. I'm thankful that the class isn't the freaky yoga I've heard about. And if you're into freaky yoga, go for it, but I'm not really all about becoming one with my body and all that jazz. I'm into learning how to stretch so I can reach past my belly button and maybe be able to touch all the way to my knees someday.
I drove home quickly. Exceeding the speed limit by 5 mph. I took the back highway to my house. Took a left and was stuck behind someone going 35 in a 50 mph zone. So much for the good time I made on the freeway.
Entering the kitchen, I find that my husband made pancakes for the girls. He wasn't thrilled with the recipe he'd used and he wasn't thrilled that I only have wheat flour in the house right now. Makes for some hearty pancakes. He felt bad that he didn't know how to make Spice's pancakes. So, she got wheat pancakes. Should make for a lovely attitude in her today.
Josh has been so supportive and encouraging. Despite the fact that he stole my scale from me on Sunday. He cares for the girls while I go to the gym if we can't find someone to watch them so we can both go. He cares for the girls while I jump on the treadmill in the mornings and/or evenings.
This morning was no different. After saying good morning to the girls, I put on a pair of socks with my tennies (no socks for yoga) and hopped on the treadmill. Thankfully Pandora was working. I cranked up some Jerrod Niemann radio and got my heart rate up. Staring out at the cars on our busy road.
Sweat pouring off my head and down some other places, I stepped off the treadmill, took my earbuds out, turned the TV on for Sugar and told Spice to be a good girl while I showered. I set my iPhone on the back of the toilet while I showered. Listening to country song after country song. I kept turning up the heat of my water.
Lingering.
I'm normally a 3-5 minute shower kinda girl.
Today I stood there.
Thinking about a funeral service I'm attending this weekend. In going to the funeral I'm breaking plans with my 15 year old niece. I hate to do it. I've been going back and forth about it since Friday night. Finally, last night deciding that I couldn't make the decision myself, I asked Josh what we should do.
"We need to be in Spokane."
And so, we'll head to Spokane for a funeral service instead of Portland for an Un-Valentine's Party full of awesome teenagers.
The shower got hotter, my mood even more blah now.
I'm not good at funerals. But when your best friend of 17 years, who was there for you when your dad drown, loses her father-in-law...you go. You cancel previously made plans to show your love and support. And you apologize to the niece you love so much and hate letting down.
My thoughts turned to another friend. Another friend who hurts. A friend that I wish I had words for but don't. It's a rare occasion that I'm without words, so when I am, it really bugs me. I don't want to spout out reassurances, I don't want to say, "I'm sorry, it'll get better." A friend doesn't lie. So sometimes a friend says nothing and just listens. Sometimes we're just here to hear. To listen. To be that venting place. I'm thankful to be found trustworthy with this friend.
Ten minutes in the shower and I knew it was time to get out.
Just a little longer.
Because once I get out, I have to start school with Sugar. I have to be prepared for battles and tears and butting heads.
Shower off. Steamy room. Not so clear thoughts.
Towel dry my hair. Deodorant. Mousse. De-frizz. Tank top and comfy pants. Hoodie and slippers.
Finally ready to face my day.
Monday, February 07, 2011
Firsts in list format
They aren't in any particular order. They are completely random. I am completely random.
Surgery: Appendectomy. I was 26.
Kiss: I was 12, his name was Rusty. We're both 30 now and he goes by Russ these days.
Alcoholic beverage: I think I was 2. Thanks, Dad.
Pen Pal: 4th grade. I think she was Australian.
Male teacher: 5th grade, Mr. Miller. He had long hair and was the first person I knew who had adopted children. I loved him.
Car Accident: I was 17. And in the passenger seat. I'll never look at Mt. Rainier the same. Thanks, Ken! ;)
Black Eye: I think I was 23. Thanks, Dale! (what is it with my husband's friends trying to kill me and beat me up??)
Friend: A boy named Peter. I know there were other kids in my kindergarten class but he's the only one I remember.
Time crossing Nob Hill in undergarments only: 23. (it was also the last time)
Pregnancy: I was 24. And had been told 5 years before that I wouldn't be able to have kids. Silly doctor. (actually quacky doctor is more like it.)
Husband (um, and last!): I was 18, he was 20. His name is Josh and I don't deserve him. And he doesn't deserve the crap I've put him through over these last 14 years together.
Bra: I was nine. No nine year old should need a bra. But I did. Stupid genetics anyway.
Blog: It was this one but was first titled: Organized Chaos. That was 4.5 years ago. I think now it's just Chaos Chaos. There's no organization about it.
Car: A brown 1982 Honda Civic Josh bought it for me a couple of months after we were married. Good times in that car. Right, Denise? :)
Broken Heart: I was 15. His name was Trevor. Is Trevor. The break up was my fault of course. (and Melissa's too!) We spent Super Bowl Sunday with him and his family yesterday. It's funny to be around his mom after all these years. She can't call my mom or send me home or scare me anymore. :)
Experience with Death (the lovely stuff): I was 19. He was 40. He drown in the Yakima River. This summer was the first time I got on the water and just let myself enjoy.
Best Friend as an adult: Amber. Oh, Amber. Life just isn't complete without 'er.
Plane ride: I think I was 6. I went to Arizona to visit my aunt. (what was my mother thinking??!!)
Peanut butter and chocolate experience: I was 4. I want to be 4 again.
Speeding Ticket: I was 19, it was our first anniversary and I do believe we were arguing in the car. I was going 43 in a 35 zone in Mabton. Of all places to get a ticket.
Okay, that's all the firsts I can think of at the moment.
Surgery: Appendectomy. I was 26.
Kiss: I was 12, his name was Rusty. We're both 30 now and he goes by Russ these days.
Alcoholic beverage: I think I was 2. Thanks, Dad.
Pen Pal: 4th grade. I think she was Australian.
Male teacher: 5th grade, Mr. Miller. He had long hair and was the first person I knew who had adopted children. I loved him.
Car Accident: I was 17. And in the passenger seat. I'll never look at Mt. Rainier the same. Thanks, Ken! ;)
Black Eye: I think I was 23. Thanks, Dale! (what is it with my husband's friends trying to kill me and beat me up??)
Friend: A boy named Peter. I know there were other kids in my kindergarten class but he's the only one I remember.
Time crossing Nob Hill in undergarments only: 23. (it was also the last time)
Pregnancy: I was 24. And had been told 5 years before that I wouldn't be able to have kids. Silly doctor. (actually quacky doctor is more like it.)
Husband (um, and last!): I was 18, he was 20. His name is Josh and I don't deserve him. And he doesn't deserve the crap I've put him through over these last 14 years together.
Bra: I was nine. No nine year old should need a bra. But I did. Stupid genetics anyway.
Blog: It was this one but was first titled: Organized Chaos. That was 4.5 years ago. I think now it's just Chaos Chaos. There's no organization about it.
Car: A brown 1982 Honda Civic Josh bought it for me a couple of months after we were married. Good times in that car. Right, Denise? :)
Broken Heart: I was 15. His name was Trevor. Is Trevor. The break up was my fault of course. (and Melissa's too!) We spent Super Bowl Sunday with him and his family yesterday. It's funny to be around his mom after all these years. She can't call my mom or send me home or scare me anymore. :)
Experience with Death (the lovely stuff): I was 19. He was 40. He drown in the Yakima River. This summer was the first time I got on the water and just let myself enjoy.
Best Friend as an adult: Amber. Oh, Amber. Life just isn't complete without 'er.
Plane ride: I think I was 6. I went to Arizona to visit my aunt. (what was my mother thinking??!!)
Peanut butter and chocolate experience: I was 4. I want to be 4 again.
Speeding Ticket: I was 19, it was our first anniversary and I do believe we were arguing in the car. I was going 43 in a 35 zone in Mabton. Of all places to get a ticket.
Okay, that's all the firsts I can think of at the moment.
Sunday, February 06, 2011
{distracted}
And again with the random.
I still haven't read any blog posts. I've barely been writing on my own.
I had one of the craziest weeks last week. My only relaxing time was when I was on the treadmill or at the gym. And I didn't get to the gym nearly as much as I would have liked.
My sister moved and before she did so, asked if I would paint the inside of her house. It's not necessarily that I'm a great painter, it's that I've had a lot of practice and she's pregnant and wants to use that as an excuse. :) And she works full time.
So, I spent 10 hours painting at her house one day. The next day we moved her and in the process of moving her we decided to rip up the carpet and padding in her dining room. Then Josh started working on putting a new floor in her dining room. It was a long weekend. Good but long.
School with Sugar is going a little better. I picked up a new book for her to work on letter writing. I also picked up a pencil grip that she seems to really like. We've really been working on the girls helping in every area possible. Dishes get done much slower because I now have two helpers to load and unload. I know that one day it will go much faster because of them. Trying to remind myself of this as it takes 30 minutes to unload the dishwasher, when it could take 7.
Sugar informed me that she's almost six. This is true. She has a few months but yes, she's almost six. I wanted to stop her in her tracks. "Wait, five is good. Stay there. Enjoy five. Because once five is gone you can't get it back."
Five is one of the last years I remember being stress free as a child. Five meant my first school and my first friend. Five meant I only had one sister to compete with for my mom's attention. Five was good.
Six was different.
I know I can't stop my girls from getting older. It's going to happen. I just hope that they enjoy every age. That they look back and have fond memories of all years of their little lives.
I'm currently trying to read three books at a time. I know some people can pull this off but I'm not that great at it.
I've found myself daydreaming of Summer like crazy. Today I wore flip flops. For about 45 minutes. Then we were leaving to go for a walk and when I put on a scarf I realized it'd look funny if I was wearing my flips with my scarf. So, I put on socks and tennies. Warm weather just can't get here soon enough.
I'm down five pounds. I should be thrilled and I mostly am. Especially since just five pounds means that D has now become C. (and I just lost my male reader(s), whoops) This makes me a happy girl. I'd prefer none at all but that's because of the baggage that I've carried around since...well, since I've carried these bad girls around. I've considered duct taping them or girdling them. Anything for them to go away. A lot of my weight gain went there so I'm glad that when I reach my goal I should be at about a B+.
Aren't you thrilled I shared this with you? You're welcome.
I went grocery shopping on Friday morning. I saved $102 and spent $115. I was a happy chick. My fridge is happy too. She isn't lonely anymore.
We watched the Super Bowl today with a friend of mine from high school and his family. I was rooting for the Packers, and I was alone in my principles. I was glad I won. Or, I was glad the Packers won. Mostly I just didn't want the SteAlers to win, it's not that I'm necessarily a Green Bay fan.
I have dirty dishes in the sink and there's nothin' like starting off Monday with dirty dishes in the sink.
$50 to the first person who shows up at my house to do my dishes in the morning. Okay, $10.
I have not registered for the St. Patrick's Day Dash yet. I'm skerd. I just need to register. I just need to. Can someone bug me about it this week, please?
Looking forward to Valentine's Day and the reservations at Barrel House Cafe and Wine Bar with my mom. My sister may join us too. If you're there and it's loud and three woman are asked to leave, that'd be us. It's never quiet when the three of us are together.
I have a bunch of laundry to do tomorrow. Bunches. I'll make dinner for the person who shows up tomorrow to FAPA (fold and put away) my laundry. I rock at putting it in the washing machine and dryer. It's the FAPA I suck at.
Okay, enough rambling. It's time for me to sleep.
I still haven't read any blog posts. I've barely been writing on my own.
I had one of the craziest weeks last week. My only relaxing time was when I was on the treadmill or at the gym. And I didn't get to the gym nearly as much as I would have liked.
My sister moved and before she did so, asked if I would paint the inside of her house. It's not necessarily that I'm a great painter, it's that I've had a lot of practice and she's pregnant and wants to use that as an excuse. :) And she works full time.
So, I spent 10 hours painting at her house one day. The next day we moved her and in the process of moving her we decided to rip up the carpet and padding in her dining room. Then Josh started working on putting a new floor in her dining room. It was a long weekend. Good but long.
School with Sugar is going a little better. I picked up a new book for her to work on letter writing. I also picked up a pencil grip that she seems to really like. We've really been working on the girls helping in every area possible. Dishes get done much slower because I now have two helpers to load and unload. I know that one day it will go much faster because of them. Trying to remind myself of this as it takes 30 minutes to unload the dishwasher, when it could take 7.
Sugar informed me that she's almost six. This is true. She has a few months but yes, she's almost six. I wanted to stop her in her tracks. "Wait, five is good. Stay there. Enjoy five. Because once five is gone you can't get it back."
Five is one of the last years I remember being stress free as a child. Five meant my first school and my first friend. Five meant I only had one sister to compete with for my mom's attention. Five was good.
Six was different.
I know I can't stop my girls from getting older. It's going to happen. I just hope that they enjoy every age. That they look back and have fond memories of all years of their little lives.
I'm currently trying to read three books at a time. I know some people can pull this off but I'm not that great at it.
I've found myself daydreaming of Summer like crazy. Today I wore flip flops. For about 45 minutes. Then we were leaving to go for a walk and when I put on a scarf I realized it'd look funny if I was wearing my flips with my scarf. So, I put on socks and tennies. Warm weather just can't get here soon enough.
I'm down five pounds. I should be thrilled and I mostly am. Especially since just five pounds means that D has now become C. (and I just lost my male reader(s), whoops) This makes me a happy girl. I'd prefer none at all but that's because of the baggage that I've carried around since...well, since I've carried these bad girls around. I've considered duct taping them or girdling them. Anything for them to go away. A lot of my weight gain went there so I'm glad that when I reach my goal I should be at about a B+.
Aren't you thrilled I shared this with you? You're welcome.
I went grocery shopping on Friday morning. I saved $102 and spent $115. I was a happy chick. My fridge is happy too. She isn't lonely anymore.
We watched the Super Bowl today with a friend of mine from high school and his family. I was rooting for the Packers, and I was alone in my principles. I was glad I won. Or, I was glad the Packers won. Mostly I just didn't want the SteAlers to win, it's not that I'm necessarily a Green Bay fan.
I have dirty dishes in the sink and there's nothin' like starting off Monday with dirty dishes in the sink.
$50 to the first person who shows up at my house to do my dishes in the morning. Okay, $10.
I have not registered for the St. Patrick's Day Dash yet. I'm skerd. I just need to register. I just need to. Can someone bug me about it this week, please?
Looking forward to Valentine's Day and the reservations at Barrel House Cafe and Wine Bar with my mom. My sister may join us too. If you're there and it's loud and three woman are asked to leave, that'd be us. It's never quiet when the three of us are together.
I have a bunch of laundry to do tomorrow. Bunches. I'll make dinner for the person who shows up tomorrow to FAPA (fold and put away) my laundry. I rock at putting it in the washing machine and dryer. It's the FAPA I suck at.
Okay, enough rambling. It's time for me to sleep.
Tuesday, February 01, 2011
I Miss...
the warm weather. the sun is out and beautiful today but it is bone chilling cold out there.
flip flops. the tan lines on my feet.
tank tops and the perfect jeans with 'em.
candee.
melissa.
lindsey.
around a Starbucks table on Gage/Keene.
my size 2 jeans.
working at Pier 1.
my dad. the missing him comes in waves now. it's when i need a listening ear that i really miss him.
being 5.
the pot roast burger from red robin. they have a different version now. never mess with an original.
writing poetry. it's been years. as in high school years.
the tiny babies that my girls once were.
sharing a bedroom with my sisters.
my beagle.
the big white car i used to ride around in with my BFF and her boyfriend in high school. some seriously good times. Rick Springfield good times.
the H fam.
the first year we were married. okay, i don't miss it but wish i could do it over.
sugar saying, "hunna" for "hungry" but now she says "thankully" instead of "thankfully" and I love that too.
the days when i wasn't hesistant to get on the scale.
the days when i could run 5 miles, no big! that was half my lifetime ago. i'm getting so old.
my SIL living in the same town.
hanging out at my in-laws in the days before we had kids and they had responsibilities of their own. when it was just cards and snacks and movie nights.
the bottom of the laundry basket.
flip flops. the tan lines on my feet.
tank tops and the perfect jeans with 'em.
candee.
melissa.
lindsey.
around a Starbucks table on Gage/Keene.
my size 2 jeans.
working at Pier 1.
my dad. the missing him comes in waves now. it's when i need a listening ear that i really miss him.
being 5.
the pot roast burger from red robin. they have a different version now. never mess with an original.
writing poetry. it's been years. as in high school years.
the tiny babies that my girls once were.
sharing a bedroom with my sisters.
my beagle.
the big white car i used to ride around in with my BFF and her boyfriend in high school. some seriously good times. Rick Springfield good times.
the H fam.
the first year we were married. okay, i don't miss it but wish i could do it over.
sugar saying, "hunna" for "hungry" but now she says "thankully" instead of "thankfully" and I love that too.
the days when i wasn't hesistant to get on the scale.
the days when i could run 5 miles, no big! that was half my lifetime ago. i'm getting so old.
my SIL living in the same town.
hanging out at my in-laws in the days before we had kids and they had responsibilities of their own. when it was just cards and snacks and movie nights.
the bottom of the laundry basket.
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