that one time where i admitted to being a nervous wreck about teaching a 30 minute class.

Our homeschool co-op starts in a few days.

I haven't always been the biggest fan of co-op.  It's been my own deal.  The moms are great, the kids are as well.  I've just had a really crappy attitude about it.

Wanna hear my reasons?  They're so petty.  In no particular order:  I'm not the pretty mom.  I'm not the dresses cool mom.  I'm so not put together.  And neither are my kids.  We're a big mess 90% of the time.  Looking pretty ragamuffin.  Also, my kids aren't the smarty pants kids answering questions.  They aren't smarty pants because their mom is a terrible teacher.  Unless we're talking about teaching them to be crabby and impatient and lazy, then I'm totally teaching them those things.  Another thing, I'm always so ill-prepared for co-op.  I forget to have the girls pull a Show and Tell item.  I forget to bring their color crayons and scissors.

And then there's the whole, Sarah you have to teach a class to be part of the group.

Shoot me now.

I offered to do the childcare for the entire co-op year if I could just please, pretty please with sugar and a cherry on top did not have to teach.

Apparently the other moms do not like sugar or cherries.

When it came time to decide whether or not we'd be part of this year's group, I decided that yes, yes we would join and this year I would have a happier attitude about it.  And, dare I say, I actually got excited.

Um.  Til the night before the meeting.

Then my entire life went to hell in just one evening.  I was pretty sure that I'd be moving out, giving up on life as wife, mom, teacher, all of it.  There was no way I could do these things.  So I sat in my (ever in remodel phase) bathroom and I cried the ugly cry.  You know, the one with the snot and tears and broken blood vessels under your eyes?  That cry.  And I emailed Chelsea and I told her it just wasn't possible for me, co-op was my limit.  Beyond my limit.

The next day I get a text.  A long text.  A "you are enough" text.  And I decided that if I was enough for co-op, could I maybe be enough to be wife and mom and teacher, too?  So I stayed in this house another day.  And I went to the co-op planning meeting that night.

I left slightly overwhelmed (these women are all so smart and I am just, well I'm just not) but I also left excited.  I would be the first one to teach, I could get it over with, and wa-la.  The rest of the co-op year could go on.

And now that first class is four days away and I think I'm developing an ulcer.

I'm hopeful that on Thursday at 9:30 instead of teaching a class on hot air balloons I'll instead be in surgery or something.  Something that would be serious enough that I could get out of teaching this class.

You see, teachers have this sweet voice when they talk to kids.  Well, really it's usually mothers in general.  They speak kindly and gently and kids are enamored.

Then there's me.  I talk to my kids like I talk to Josh.  My normal boring voice.  I've never been a baby talker, or an ooey gooey talker.  It kinda grosses me out.  However, that's what kiddos like and need and it's not me.  I'm going to get up in front of these kids and their really smart moms and I'm going to not even know what to say or how to start.

I'm starting to cry.

Yuck.

So I'm scared.  Scared out of my freaking mind.  It's the hardest thing for me.  This being in front of people.  The kids.  And their moms.  And the talking.  And pretending to know what I'm talking about.  It's kinda brutal.

(turning into ugly cry.)

I just want this week over with.

Most families started back to school within the last couple of weeks.  I knew I couldn't start us.  I knew that this first co-op day would consume my thoughts and guts and there would be no concentrating on anything else.  I'm already such a crabby mama to begin with, I didn't think my kids needed to be taught the last couple of weeks by a crabby, stressed out mama.

We will start school next Tuesday.

That is, if I survive this Thursday.

the perfect bible study group

We've started going to a new bible study group.

We started going to one back in September.  We really liked the people we were meeting with, our kinda folk, but the time and location was hard for us to make it on time.  We found another group that meets closer to where we live and later in the evening.

Last Wednesday was our first time going and Josh and I both really liked it.  It's a diverse age group, of which I'm a big fan.  They were so welcoming to us and our girls.

My mom had our girls last night and Josh and I kept going back and forth about whether to go to bible study or just hang out the two of us.  In the end we decided to go to bible study.

While we were there one of the guys says that next Wednesday is his birthday and that he'll bring a keg.  I was stoked thinking we'd finally found the perfect group for us.  Come to find out he had said "cake" and not "keg."

All good.  I love me some cake too.

pass the paper bag, please

Several months ago I was taking Spice to a doctor's appt.  While driving, my chest started to hurt, I started to sweat, I felt like I couldn't catch my breath and I was finding myself a bit dizzy.  I was thinking that it was a good thing I was heading in to a dr's office because maybe the appt should be for me instead.

By the time we got to the office though, I was fine.  And ended up forgetting about the incident until a few weeks later.

I was telling Amber about what had happened and she told me it sounded like I had an anxiety attack.

Awesome.

A few months go by and we're driving to Portland to visit Josh's sister and it happens again.  We drive over the Columbia River and instead of taking a right and heading to Portland, Josh stops the Suburban in Biggs, goes to the gas station, gets me water and we sit for awhile.  Breathe, Sarah.  Breathe.

That was in August and I've been fine since.

You know, mostly.

But here in a coupla days I am flying (in an airplane!) to San Diego.  I haven't been in an airplane since 2003 and I'm a nervous wreck over the deal.  I'm scared outta my mind to be in a confined place up in the air.  Where I can't get out.  Or be the driver.  What if I can't breathe?

And then there's TSA.  I hear stories of those folk and getting groped and seriously, I don't want anyone's hands down my pants that I didn't ask to be there.

Just the airport itself is freaking me out.  Lots of junk has been happening in airports and oh my word, what if something happens while I'm in the airport?!  What if there's a bag left unattended and it starts smoking?  What if?  What if?  WHAT IF?!

I'm traveling with friends and I've thought about telling them that I'm pretty sure I'm a freak of nature but I don't wanna spoil the surprise.

it's not magic, folks.

2014 is coming up.  In case you haven't looked at a calendar recently.

I, like many of you, have been thinking about my goals for the New Year.  I think I made some last year, but I'm not sure I met them.  I don't even remember them.  But I've been focused on living more intentionally and that's what I plan for 2014.  Be intentional with my time, my goals, my people, my health.

While thinking about my health/fitness goals for 2014 I kept thinking about running.

Running may as well be a four letter word.  I would much rather ride my bike for three hours than run for 30 minutes.  You think I am exaggerating. I am not.

Dead serious.

So yesterday while I'm thinking about running and goals I text Jessica.  (side note: I always wonder if she rolls her eyes when a text from me comes through because they are so random.)  I asked her if someone who is not a runner, who in fact HATES to run, could make a goal to run a half and full marathon in the same year.  I loved her first reply: "hmm."

I love that she doesn't just jump in with an answer I want to hear but takes the time to reply what I need to hear.  (I've told you guys before, you need a Jessica in your life.) (Just not mine, she's taken.)

Off and on all day yesterday I was thinking about running.  Thinking about it makes me groan.  Roll my eyes.  Get crabby.  Why do I hate it so much?  This morning while blow-drying my hair I realized something.

I don't hate running!

I hate not being the best at running.

Realizing that I don't want to do something just because I am not, nor will I ever be, the best was a pretty ugly realization.  That says so much to me about so many areas of my life.

So I shut off the blow dryer, got out my favorite Sharpie and a piece of paper and penned my 2014 goals.

I'll start in February with a 3 mile run, St. Patrick's Day always has a 5 or 10k, I'd like to do the 10.  In May I'm going to attempt my first half marathon.  13 miles.  Then July holds STP.  Seattle to Portland on my bicycle.  200 miles.  October holds the Portland Marathon.  I really considered a full as one of my goals, but I honestly am not feeling it at this point.  Maybe as the months and training goes on, I'll get there, but for now I'm going to be proud of myself for the halves I've signed up for.

I'm going to do this.

It's not going to be easy.  And I'm going to want to give up.  It's not always going to be fun.  But it's always going to be worth it.

(and now begins the real reason for this post)

With the New Year approaching I've seen many FB posts with people wanting their friends to join their weight loss programs.  Get results!  No pills!  No this!  No that!  But lots of results!  Almost like magic!

I call bullshit.

Yeah, I said it.

Weight loss is not magic.

A healthy life is not magic.

It's hard work and it's determination.

To achieve a healthy lifestyle, to achieve weight loss, to see results - literally takes blood, sweat, and tears.

I can attest to this because I have fallen off my bike, scraped my elbows, knees, wrists.  I have sweat from workout after workout and I have cried because I'm tired of those workouts and I have cried from falling off my bike.

But not all tears were out of pain.

Many were out of success.

I've been extremely frustrated by these posts.  These ads.  These gimmicks.

Friends, I'm sorry to say, but losing weight is not easy as 1, 2, 3.  It's not as easy as signing up to receive pills, or shakes, or meals.  It's not counting calories, or cutting out bread, or meat, or sugar, or beer (Oh, Lord, not the beer! don't take mah liquid gluten!)

It is, however, about cutting down on those things.  Not eating (or drinking) as many of those things.  Stop depriving yourself of those things you love, you'll just end up binging on them later and you'll beat yourself up for it, give up, feel defeated and be a Sad Pants Sally.

But it's also this:

It is about getting off our asses and moving.

It is sweating and it is hard.

It is time consuming and it is hard.

It is self-control and it is hard.

It is determination and it is hard.

It is not magic.

It is not pills.

It is not shakes.

It is not sugar-free, carb-free, gluten-free, meat-free, fat-free, taste-free.

It is, however, persevering.  It is not giving up.  It's about failing but starting again.

You don't have to pay someone to help you lose weight.  To tell you what you can and cannot eat.  What pill to take or shake to down.  I can say all of this because I've lived it.  I've done it.

That picture on the left (153 lbs).  I can't believe I was her.  That picture on the right (123 lbs), I wish I still looked like that.  But over the course of a few months, I've eaten more and exercised less and I have 10 extra lbs to show for it.  However, I'm back on track, paying attention to portions (still eating chocolate and drinking beer) and getting up at 6 AM (ew!) to work out at home.  I've also been to the gym once this week and will go again tonight.

But I'm not the only one who has busted her ass to make improvements, to better herself, to lose weight, to get healthy.

A couple hardcore, amazing examples of people I know:

My friend Melissa is engaged to a guy named Matt.  Matt was in a mountain biking accident four years ago that resulted in him being paralyzed.  Reading through his blog posts from that time and seeing that immediately after his accident he could hardly move his arms, at one point couldn't even lift a single pound but I asked today and found that he is lifting, get this, 60 lbs!  How can he do this?  Because the man hasn't given up.  Because he busts his butt.  Hours upon hours.

Not only can Matt lift 60 lbs, he's also standing.  Standing!

He didn't get to this point because he sat and did nothing.  He hasn't gotten stronger because he popped magic pills.  It's his determination to never give up.

So freaking inspiring.

*i know Matt's story is not one of weight loss, but it is a story of what can happen when you are determined to change your life, to not give up, to work hard, and see results.*

Another friend of mine, Mark, used to weigh 307 lbs.  He's Josh's height (5'8"ish).  One day the man decided to take control of his health.  It hasn't been an overnight change.  And it wasn't a month or six months.  It wasn't a year.  It was more than that.  His journey started in 2006.  But it was in January of 2011 that shiz got real and Mark started running. He has run and pedaled mile after mile to lose 130 lbs.

Let me type that for you again.

The dude has lost 130 lbs.  

He's held the same weight for several months.

It wasn't magic, guys.  It wasn't some pyramid scheme that got these guys where they are today.  It was a lot of freaking hard work!  It was hours of their time.

Three years ago Jessica was posting her running updates to FB.  What I loved most about her updates wasn't that she made the work out seem easy, she made it seem doable.

Friends, changing your life to get healthy, to get fit, is never easy.  And it's not magic.

But it's always doable.

And it's always worth it. 

How I'm feeling right this minute. Uncensored.

I started writing this out on paper and then decided to blog these feelings.

Maybe I'm alone in them, and maybe I am not.

I'm equal parts hopeful I am and am not.  I'd hate for others to feel this way, I'd hate to think I'm the only one who feels this way.

I feel so inadequate.  In every area of my life.  Every single one.  There's not one area of my life where I feel I'm doing well or succeeding.

Lately I've wondered if staying home with my kids and educating them is the right thing.  For so many reasons I wonder if this is the right thing for me.  For my girls.

I'm not smart enough.

I'm not disciplined enough.

I'm not structured enough.

I'm impatient and crabby.

I'm not a gifted teacher; I'm horrible when it comes to explaining things.

I don't even know how to teach or what teach.  What goes together, when do I teach this, is this relevant, am I teaching this just because the schools do?

I used to work at Pier 1 Imports.  I also worked as a barista in a local coffee shop.  I was great at selling furniture and I was great at making coffee.  I can be good at something.  I have been good at something.

But this, this mothering and teaching.  I am not good at these things.

And I'm a horrid wife.

I get it.  I get why women leave.  Because this, this stuff is just too much some days.  Many days.  Most days.  And wouldn't it just be easier to leave?  To walk away?  Wouldn't the children and the husband be better off?

I'm not leaving.  I won't.

And I'm not headed off to work outside the home and have my kids in school.

I am, however, venting this hurt and frustration and panic that's rising.  Suffocating.  That's how I feel, like I'm suffocating.  I feel this claustrophobic craziness.

Okay, I'm going to publish now.  And in the middle of the night I'll wake up in a panic and try to delete but it'll already have been read and judged and well, and well...oh well.

Here it is and here is me.  Uncensored.

crying over a package of Oreos

It was nine years ago today that I bought that Sunday paper, that package of Oreos, and that digital pregnancy test.

Nine years ago since I set the toilet lid down and sat there with that stick in my hand.

Reading:

Pregnant

In my little apartment off Nob Hill.  All by myself.  Crying happy scared tears.

I'll always be thankful for October 17, 2004.

That pregnancy test, that sweet baby girl - changed me.  Saved me.

Wednesday Random, nesting style

today at 9 am I was supposed to have that dr's appt about fixing my Fallopian tubes.

it didn't happen.

instead at 9 am i am cleaning and organizing and purging.

it feels really great.

i'm sick.

like coughing up my lungs sick.  like, my head weighs 10 tons sick.  i had some Vicodin leftover from when i got my wisdom teeth out last year and they don't really do anything for me as far as pain, but they do make me not care.  so i took one a couple days into being sick just so i would not care that i was sick.

is this how druggies are born?

(i don't wanna know)

since i am sick i didn't go to bible study last night, instead i stayed home and organized our school books.  i bought a shelf from PW and i was planning to paint it and re-sell it, but realized it had a perfect place in my home and works beautifully for storing our school books.

i used to have just one junk drawer in my house.  josh thought one was too much.  imagine what he thinks now that one junk drawer somehow turned into three.

today i fixed that and made the three turn into one.

yesterday Sugar came upstairs to wake me and tell me Spice had puked.  i went downstairs all sick and sleepy and upon cleaning up the puke I puked too.  that was precious.  It was one of those times where you don't want to tell the dog to stop cleaning it up.  You actually want the dog to clean it up so you don't have to.  But the thought of dog eating vomit makes you want to vomit more so you just clean it up yourself.

You're welcome for all that.

Being sick is not my favorite.  Organizing sure is though.

The junk drawers in my house were these mini hoarding stations of the weirdest crap.  I'm glad I cleaned it instead of someone else seeing it.

Okay, done rambling.

You're welcome for that too.

random words

a french press does not hold enough cups of coffee.

goldfish will eat sea monkies.

starbucks tastes so much better when it's a treat.

kittens will climb your pant leg.

5 yr olds will still pee the bed.

the price of groceries is ridiculous.

live animals are better than any toy.

i miss having carpet in my living room. i'd much rather vacuum than sweep or mop.

i love fb, but i believe it was the death of many of my favorite bloggers.

i have become the girl who takes pictures of her cat.

broken people say broken words.

i love my furniture, even if no one else does.

i miss my bicycle.

this is the inside of my bible.
casino vouchers & a bumper sticker.

family are often the toughest people to love.

family can hurt you like no one else can hurt you.

i'm ready for fall.  i'm ready for the changing leaves and cozy nights.

with the encouragement of a friend, i'm setting a big goal.  like, big.  huge.

i couldn't do life without my friends.

they are the family that choose me.

these have been dark days

It's been nearly a month since I've posted anything.

Sorry?

It has been a dark month, friends.  Oh so dark.

I can't put my finger on it.  What happened.  How today, the darkness has left and sunshine is here.  But it's happened and I'm thankful.

I don't know what's going to come from these fingertips, I had no plan on blogging today.  But when I woke up and felt this unfamiliar sense of happiness I knew I needed to write immediately.  Because what if it doesn't last long?  I want to come back and see these words and know that surely light is at the end of the tunnel.

These last few weeks have been so sad.  I'm not a girl who just cries.  It's not my way of expressing emotion when I'm upset but oh the tears these last few weeks.  I have spent much time in tears.  Much time in bed.  Much time alone in this head of mine.  It's been a lonely time.  So freaking lonely.  It's so strange to have much of my family and friends within 20 miles, yet feel so all alone.  How does that work?  It works that somehow I withdraw.  Somehow I stop putting myself out there.  Inviting myself over, inviting others over.  I don't necessarily spend time in my home though.  Sometimes I try to be gone from here as much as possible.

Being here only reminds me of how I'm failing at keeping up with dishes and laundry and kids and school and the husband.

The day has turned though.  Somehow.

And today the sun shines outside my home and inside my heart.

Today is a good day and I'm going to live it up because I don't know what tomorrow brings for this crazy head of mine.

The First Monday of the Month

When my mom moved back to town a couple of months back I asked if she would be so inclined to take my children one day a month for the entire day.  And because she loves me so much (but not as much as she loves the other two) she said yes.

Last month I painted while she had the kids.  And it was weird but it was good.  Josh had left for Bend, OR for the night and my house was just me and my paintbrush.

Yesterday I dropped the girls off, went walking with a friend at the park and then headed home.  Unsure of what to do with my day I decided to just get on my bike.  So I rode 17 miles, had some deep fried asparagus and rode back home.  The weather was perfect.  In the upper 70s.  The sunshine and the exercise were making my heart happy.

But once I got home I was just lost as to what to do.  It was only 3 pm!

I showered, painted my fingernails, did some dishes and then headed back to my mom's house.  My youngest was missing me.  It was decided the kids would spend the night with my mom.  And Spice was very excited.  They aren't ever away over night!

Coincidentally Josh headed to Bend, OR yesterday too so there was no one to come home to.  I went walking at the park again, ate at a taco wagon, and was home by 7:30.

I left the front door open, turned Pandora on Colbie Caillat station and blasted it.  It was so loud and so quiet all at the same time.

I realized I was a little bit miserable.

So I started to write.  With like an actual pen and paper!

"What Quiet Time Looks Like"

I wrote out how I view it.  Then I wrote out my reality.  It boiled down to guilt.  Feeling guilty for enjoying time alone that I do nothing.  Or nothing that I've planned.  I had to tell myself that there was NOTHING WRONG with spending some time alone.  I'm with my kids all day, everyday.  One single day without 'em doesn't make me a bad mama.

Josh and I talked about it this morning and he agreed, next month I need to have a plan.  I need to have some cash monies.  And I need to just follow-through on doing something with my day so that I enjoy it and don't feel regret or whatever.

We'll see how it goes.  I'll letcha know next month...

I say blissful a lot but it's not always that way. Not always that way at all.

The other night I was out for a ride on my bike.  I was approaching a family of five who were also on their bicycles.  Mom, Dad, three kids.  Two kids were riding, one on their own, one with the help of dad.  The mother was carrying the bike of the youngest, while walking her own.

She looked frazzled.

As I got closer I said to her, "you always think it's going to be a lot more fun than it is, huh?"

The dad laughed, but the mom looked at me like, "someone gets it."

We've been that family.

I've been that mama.

Me: Hey!  Let's all get our shoes on and put our bikes in the rig, head to the path and have some family bonding.

Family:  can't find socks, or a match set of shoes.  neighbor's dog stole a helmet.  so and so is wearing MY shorts.  husband is trying to keep out of the crossfire by loading bikes.  can you help me buckle, i can't buckle, she just stuck her tongue out at me!

We get to the pathway and we probably look like this happy little family.  And we are.  But you know, looks are so deceiving.  Aren't they?

You whiz by in the car and see a family on the pathway and wish you could look so blissful.  But you don't know the dynamic behind closed doors.

You don't see that the husband just found out a huge part of his job is hanging in the balance and who knows what's going to happen there.  You don't see that he's listing in his head every person who has offered him a job in the last three years and trying to decide who he'd call first.  You don't know that the mama is *thisclose* to locking herself in the bathroom with a bottle of w(h)ine when she gets home because she's pretty sure she's on the fast track to crazy.  She can't keep up with the house and the being the mom and being the wife and being the friend, the teacher, the sister.  You don't see that she feels there's not one area where she's succeeding unless procrastination is an area.  And the children.  Oh the children.  They have their own little bitty issues you aren't seeing from the road.  Those smiling faces aren't always so smiley.

We look at people's outsides and we just assume everyone is so much better off and happier than we are.  Or is this just me?

I assume everyone has their shiz together and I am the only one who feels like a fraud on the pathway.

I posted a picture last Friday night of my family.  Josh was sitting with the girls, he had just put up a tent, we were about to play Skip-Bo and popcorn was being eaten.  I wasn't in the picture picture, but I was there.  I was in the picture as far as being a part of that night.  I posted it and received a text from a friend.  "Nice, happy family."  But said friend knows that my life is not perfect by any means.  And then my uncle commented on the picture saying that Josh was a good papa.  And he is.  He so is.  But instead of accepting that compliment I was like, 'hello, what about my kids' mom?  what about her?'  And we are back to the girl who wants to lock herself up with a bottle of wine.

I very nearly deleted that picture because I don't want people assuming we are always so blissful on a Friday night.  But in that moment we were and I guess I wanted it documented.

This is such a bunch of rambling.  You're shocked, huh?  I don't know what I'm trying to say.  Other than everyone's got their deal.  We're happy for a minute and we can be miserable for a minute.  Don't assume that everyone's lives are always the bliss they post to FB but also, don't make them out to be a fraud because sometimes those moments are what we live for and get us through the muck for the next moment of bliss.

the end.

yoga clothes shopping experience

Today I went shopping for some new yoga clothes.  I've been wearing the same pair of athletic pants for about a year and a half and I'm just sure that at any moment they are going to rip right down the middle and my bare ass will be exposed to all of class.

Well, not completely bare.  You know what i mean.

I think.

So I'm in TJ Maxx and I find some "active wear" section and there is not much of a selection but whatever.  I grab a size medium pants and they just look big.  It was weird.  So I grabbed the small and they looked ridiculously small.

What the hoo ha hay?!

I didn't get the mediums because while I used to buy my clothes a size bigger (knowing full well I'd be growing into them at any given time) I no longer do that.  I buy clothes that fit.  Fit fit.  Just right fit.

I grabbed the small and felt like I needed to suck it in while I paid for them.

Three work out(ish) shirts and one pair of yoga pants later I head out the door.  When I get home I put on one of the tops.  Now, you can suck in your belly all you want but I'm here to tell you that you cannot, as much as you try, suck in your boobs.  Those bad girls are just there.  And so I'm squishing them and maneuvering them all over the place to get them in.

Those pads they put in there?  Yeah, I ripped those out immediately.  Thank you, work out shirt, but I have enough of my own shiz in there without your help.

It was then time to suck it in to put on the ultra cozy tight yoga pants.  I've never had official yoga pants before and these are truly from the Lord.  (right, Curtis)  Again, sucked in my tummy while I'm pulling 'em on but there's no sucking in of the thighs or rear and there may have been a teensy weensy little stretching noise as I got em up and over the buttocks.

Such a strange word.

Anyway, the point of this post (am I supposed to have one?) is that clothes, like shoes, should come in half sizes.  I coulda used a small and a half.

PMS Remedy: A work out, a sister, a mother, and a goodnight of sleep

Sorry about yesterday's post.

Ugh.

I don't know about you, but for me, PMS is a real biatch.  I've said this a couple of years ago, but I used to not believe in it.  Used to not think that PMS was a real thing.  Because in the household I grew up in (my mom and two sisters and me) it wasn't allowed.  I think my mom feared being overtaken by PMS.  So, it just wasn't really talked about but dude.

It's real.

And it's ugly.

I notice it more when I'm not sleeping well or going to work out.  Oh, and when I'm not eating very healthfully.

I'm trying to step up my workouts but I have been eating like crap this last week.

My mood yesterday was the pits.

Just waking up this morning I can tell I'm better.  I feel like the time I spent at the gym, and my walk to the gym with Amber were contributing factors in my mood.  Then after the gym I saw my sweet baby sister and my mom.  We put in a movie but talked too much to watch it.  Did my heart good.

Came home to a husband who listened to me talk his ear off.  Then had a solid six hours of sleep.

The sun is shining.  We have great plans for the weekend.  My coffee is great.

And so is God.

Today will be a good day.

Wednesday Random....on Thursday

I've been thinking today was going to be Wednesday for some reason.  It's not but oh well.  I often write out random stuff on Wednesdays but apparently missed the boat yesterday.

(and now i want to throw in a bunch of boat jokes.)

The Library put a block on my account because I couldn't find three books.  Like could not find them, I've searched everywhere, they must have walked out of my house couldn't find them.  I was just going to buy them.  I had library books for school on hold that I needed, I was just going to have to fork out the money.

"Well, for the three books it's $60, I suggest you go home and take another look around."

YA THINK!?

So I did.

I went in the basement and I was searching and there was nothing.  Grr.  But I realized I had to pack for our trip so I grabbed a suitcase while I was down there.

The suitcase was heavy.

Um, apparently my last trip didn't get put away.  And I had taken a library book with me.

YAY!  One down, two to go.

I have this "trouble zone" in my kitchen, next to my fridge, where papers pile up.  (who am I kidding, my whole kitchen is a trouble zone) Anyway, I decided to clean up that area, file stuff (in the trash) and put stuff away (in the trash).  Lo and behold....another library book!

Then Josh found the last one.

Suh-weet.  Saved myself a chunk of change.  And was able to get the books we needed for our science lesson next week.

Speaking of science.  Loving our curriculum.  Sugar is too.  So does Spice.

Speaking of curriculum, a friend of mine has decided to homeschool her kids and we've been discussing curriculum choices.  I asked what she's planning to use and most of what she listed I'd never heard of before.  I researched it yesterday and am likely going to change our history and language arts.  I like both that I'm using, but after reading up on these two others, wow.  We'll see.

I lost my favorite pair of silver earrings that my mom gave me for my birthday last year.  I'm sad pants.

I'm starting up movie night with my mom and sister tonight.  That makes me happy pants.

My cup of coffee is cold.

This summer I ripped up the carpet in my living room and painted the floor white.  That was dumb.  Not the carpet ripping, that was GOOD, but the white part.  This floor should not be white.  I have two small children, a husband who attracts grease, and three pets.  I need more floor to be the color of dirt.  Think I'm just going to spend the money and re-do it.

Apparently I paid all of our bills twice last month.  Oops.  I'm not quite sure how I did that.  But every bill I've gotten this month shows a credit.  Awesome!  I'll take it.

I'm working on another Pinterest project with a friend.  He cut my board, I'll paint it, and then he'll stencil and paint the letters on for me.  And I will buy him beer.  It really is a win/win for us both.  Here's what we're working on:

Source: etsy.com via Sarah on Pinterest

but where it says "margarita" mine will say "sangria" because I can't stand margaritas but love sangria.  This might be due to almost dying from tequila 10 years ago but whatever.  (I also felt like I was going to die from tequila last month, but that's another post for another day)

Today is my grandma's birthday.  She is 74.  She is living proof you can survive on Pepsi and PopTarts.

Speaking of terrible eating habits, I've been journaling my exercise and eating with a friend.  Ugh.  There's been a lot to journal as far as food, but not so much the exercising.  Those ten lbs I wanted to lose before our vacation?  Ack, I now only have two months to do it.  I should probably start trying.  I'm taking my bike to Portland with me this weekend and I am RIDING.  Yes I am.

I will lose those 10 lbs!

Okay, that's enough random.  Your turn.

Wednesday Random

This morning I locked myself out of the house whilst wearing my pajamas.

But not before I stepped on a tack with my bare feet.

I had a bit of panic attack freak out deal Monday regarding some homeschoolishness.  It all started when a lapbook I ordered and tried to put together was not at all going as planned.  "How can I teach my kids when I can't even put together a lapbook!?"

So I went in the bathroom.  Locked the door.  And didn't cry.  Because I couldn't.  I couldn't even find my breath for the longest time.  There was a lot of gasping.  Sigh.

Then on Tuesday I looked some stuff up, found some resources.  And calmed my freak down.

This morning Sugar says to me, "I'm like a princess.  But poor."  I got a good laugh outta that.

I saw my baby sister yesterday for the first time in months.  I felt like it was my birthday!

I've decided not to cancel my membership to the gym.  At Josh's insistence.  I've gone for the last three days thanks to Amber's girls being willing to watch my kids while we go.  I feel GOOD.  Tired.  Sore.  But oh so good.  I rode my bike on Saturday.  Just 15 miles, but that was good too.  Then the wind tried to kill me.

Josh has been gone for the last two nights for work.  About 8 hours away.  I slept on the couch both nights.  With a gun.

We've been having smoothies for breakfast lately.  Spinach, almond milk, flax seed, pure maple syrup (or honey), almond butter, frozen berries and a banana.  So good.  Oh so good.  Spice loves them, Sugar likes them.

I've lost three lbs this week.  I wanted to lose five and thought it was a ridiculous goal but maybe I'll see it.  We'll be in San Diego in just over a couple of months.  I want to be able to wear a swimsuit without embarrassment.

We're headed to friends for the weekend.  Jim and Emily's.  I love that blogging brought us together.  The internet has been awesome in finding new friendships.

Oooh, funny (random) story about meeting blog friends.  Over Memorial weekend last year we were going camping with some friends we'd never met.  I "knew" them through Twitter and loved them in 140 characters or less.  They invited us to go camping and we agreed.  Josh's dad was skeptical.  He tells Josh, "you better take your gun."  Josh's reply? "Oh, I will.  But from what Sarah tells me about Cortland, I'm sure he'll have at least one or four of his own."  Was too funny.  And then of course, Cortland did.  And no one needed them other than to talk about them.  :)

I'm supposed to be schooling kids.  I should probably do that since I just heard them head to the laundry room and pour dog food. Which means they'll be trying to eat it in 3, 2, ...

when will it feel like a job well done

i'm sitting on my second hand orange couch, with my bare feet and my comfy clothes.

today i woke up late but finally after days upon days of not feeling rested - felt rested.  i suppose i needed that sleep but waking at 8 is embarrassing.

to me.

the first thing i did was heat up my coffee that josh had left in the french press.  his alarm went off at 4:30 and he was out the door by 5:30.

after heating up my coffee i started a load of laundry.  i'm guessing it was about 8:30.  the washer and dryer ran and ran and did not stop until 8:30 tonight.  it's not that i was that behind on the dirty laundry, but i was behind on the clean laundry and apparently my cat decided to pee on it.  i wasn't sure what all had been peed on, but i decided that everything needed to be rewashed.  and there was a heckuva lotta clean laundry on that guest room bed.

i schooled the kids.  partially.  enough.

i cleaned some other stuff.

did some dishes.  checked the mail.  sighed when i got a bill from my wisdom teeth.  apparently i forgot to pay that off.  it's expensive to get rid of teeth.

i broke up fights and i soothed tears.

i caused tears, too.

i fed the dog and the cats.

i got dinner made by some miracle just minutes before josh walked in the door at 6:30.  he put in a 13 hour day.

while dinner was cooking i washed more dishes.  put more dishes away.  folded more laundry.  put more laundry away.

we ate and i did dishes.  we played two games of cards at the table and then josh took the girls off to bed and i took a bath and wondered at what i got done today.

i feel like didn't do much at all, yet my house is clean, spotless almost, my kids are clean and schooled.  but i feel like i failed.

i feel like i failed this day and i don't know why.  is it always going to feel like this?  will i never feel like, yay me?  i don't get it.  i don't understand.  i want to know.  i want to know, was it enough?  did i do enough?  i don't want platitudes, i want truth.  did i miss something?  was there supposed to be more to this day?

i just want a night where i go to bed and feel like i did my job well.

tonight is not that night.

Taking down Christmas and getting back in the groove of real life.

The Christmas tree is unornamented.  Deornamented?  Um.  You get my point.  There aren't ornaments on my birch branches.

I've kept the branches in the living room, though.

All decorations are down in the basement, neatly organized and ready to come out next December 1st.

If not for the 17 trillion Legos in my living room you'd have no idea we just had Christmas.

It's always fun while it lasts but I'm more than ready for it to be gone on December 26th.

Our Christmas morning was quiet and sweet, the rest of the day too.  We watched movies, read books, played with Legos and ate too much.

The rest of the week was spent with family and friends and while I'll miss that too, I'm looking forward to getting back to our routine tomorrow of school and housework.

I'm also looking forward to getting back to the gym.

Today in fact.  My favorite yoga instructor (who had the nerve to move away) is in town and will be in class today.  I cannot wait to see him!

I plan to sit down tonight and write out some goals for 2013.  I want to not be afraid to fail.  I want to have something to strive for.

Is Christmas still around at your place?  Are you setting goals for 2013?  

just a wednesday rambling

how are there only six days until Christmas?

yeesh.

i have one present wrapped under the tree.  it's for my niece, Sareena.  i kinda wanna unwrap it and keep it for myself.

most of the presents i've purchased i feel this way about.  well, maybe not my one year old nephew's present.  i don't want to keep it.  i think Josh does, though.

i'm still waiting on most every gift.  i hate saying this, but here it is, every gift but Sareena's was ordered online.  ack.

i've found myself being very hermitish this December.  not wanting to go anywhere or be around crowds.  not wanting to be cold.

and trying to stick with this budget is easier if i'm not out and about.  no impulse shopping.

my girls each get two gifts this year.  those dream lite thingies and bibles.  i wanted so badly to get Sugar this pretty purple bible with flowers on the front of it.  but she's not a purply flowery kinda girl.  instead i found a bible with a boy and a girl on the front of it, in a jeep, in the jungle.  that's the kinda girl my Sugar is.

Pinterest has helped me figure out what my menu will look like for Christmas day.  banana splits, some sangria, some more food.  with Spice's allergies it's hard to accommodate her.  she's allergic to wheat, eggs, and dairy.  poor kid.  she gets water for Christmas breakfast.  i asked the girls if they wanted to open presents or eat breakfast first.  they both want breakfast first.  they love their food.  just like their mama.

isn't that weird, though?  wouldn't most kids want presents first?

i've always thought they were strange beings.  a coupla months ago really sealed the deal for me.  Josh and i decided to take a vacation this year.  one that does not include a tent or sleeping on the ground. (hallelujah!!)  we were thinking of taking the girls to Disneyland.  but the thought of that place gives me the shivers.  don't ask me why.  however, i just assumed it's every little girl's dream to go there and if i can provide that for my girls, awesome.  but my girls aren't princess-y girls.  not even a little.

case in point.  that up there is my youngest.  with her daddy's tools, some hot wheels cars, dirt and a worm.  this is a normal summer day around here.  i laugh when my friends with boys say things like, "boys will be boys" and describe a very normal to my house situation.

so.

when we started discussing a family vacation to southern California i thought maybe instead of Disney, we could do SeaWorld.  so i asked the girls which they'd prefer.  they both yelled, "Sea World!"  because my girls are all about all things marine.

anyway.  totally digressed from Christmas.

oops.

my girls are in the Christmas Eve service for our church.  Sugar didn't want the part of an angel, or Mary (Jesus' mama) nope, she wanted and got, the part of the donkey.  then i get a text saying that Spice is Mary and even as i type this i'm laughing so hard there are tears.  i don't know why it strikes me so funny, but it does.  they aren't speaking parts or anything (because the donkey could totally talk) but just the fact they're in a Christmas program at all is fabulous to me.  i feel so undeserving to be their mama.  yet so thankful i am.

pretty sure Spice is going to ruin it and run for the hills.  she's not so big on crowds or strangers or being more than three feet from me.

i'm happy it's nearly Christmas.  i'm happy i decided to do a Christmas break even though i hadn't planned to.  it's been nice to not feel rushed to get our school day done.  we've been baking and being lazy and baking.  yesterday was Snicker's fudge.  ohmuhwerd.  so ridiculously good.

are you ready for Christmas?  do eat breakfast first and then open gifts, or the other way around?

Pay before ya Graze: The Follow Up

Based on the comments I received via my FB status, emails sent, and the comments on my pet peeve post, I'd say it was pretty evenly split on how people felt about grazing on food in the grocery store before they purchased it.

Some do it.

Some don't.

Others just don't care.

None of the ideas presented to me in favor of eating unpaid for food changed my mind about thinking it's okay to do it.

Until Josh's idea.

"Maybe it'd make your trips to Wal*Mart bearable if you opened a 6 pack while you shopped and paid for it once you got to the register."

The man's a genius.

Done.

Pet Peeve #975 Grocery store snackers

Last night I ran into Wal*Mart {shudder} to grab some beer and frozen food and a RedBox.

(Considered getting my hair cut and oil changed too but honestly I'd rather shove bamboo shoots up my fingernails than be in that store any longer than I hafta.)

While I'm in line with my goods, there are two women in front of me with a 2-3 year old little boy in the cart. He has an opened package of Funyuns.

An opened, unpaid for package of Funyuns.

{shudder}

I see this often.

More often than I like.

And I'm sorry if this is something you do, I'm not trying to offend anyone at all.

But maybe you haven't thought about it, it's just something your mom did and her mom before her.

I just don't think it's right.  Why?

Because that's not your food yet.  

I get it. You intend to purchase it, but at this point, while you're walking around the grocery store munching away, it's not yours.

"But I'm going to pay for it!"  You argue.

Right.

But let's say you get to the register and the cash you thought you had isn't there?  Or your debit/credit/EBT card doesn't work?  And you just happen to be outta checks too.

You've already eaten the food and now you can't pay.

Uh.  Now what?

Maybe you've never had an issue.  You always have a way to pay for the food you've already eaten.

Honestly, I don't think it matters.  You're still eating something that isn't yet yours.

And that's just not right.

Pay before ya graze, folks.  Pay before ya graze.

Do you eat food in the grocery store before you've purchased it?  Do you wait?  What are your thoughts?