Confessions

I haven't been to the gym since last Tuesday.

I've had a beer at lunch for the last two days. (and might have another today...)

I spent $50 on a shirt the other night.  Yes, $50. (you freaking out, Em?!)  For one shirt.  I never do that.  But she's so worth it.  I love her.  And if I die soon, can you tell Josh I want to buried in 'er?  Thanks.

My girls are outside playing while I'm blogging.

I can't hear them and I think I should be concerned.

I didn't have dinner last night but ate a Caramello at 9 pm instead.

I weighed myself this morning even though Friday is my official weigh day.

I went running on Sunday afternoon and on my way home I stopped at the cemetery.  Second row, ninth headstone over.  My dad's.  I sat there.  Out of breath.  And let myself cry.  I've been to the cemetery more times in the last 6 months than I have been in the nearly 12 years he's been dead.  I feel healthier for it. But kinda like a weirdo, too.

I now only shampoo my hair once a week.  I also don't touch a towel to my hair anymore.  Instead I use a t-shirt.  My hair is loving me.  It's curlier than ever.

My husband prefers my hair straight.

Sorry, dude.

I have a pellet gun sitting on my kitchen counter.  Waiting for a neighbor dog to enter my yard.  (no worries, it'll just sting not kill.) (though i'd like 'em dead)

Hey, the post is titled Confessions.

I get to see my high school BFF tomorrow and it makes my heart happy.

I'm wearing thread bare jeans that have holes in the knees, paint everywhere and look like they should have been thrown away years ago.  Mmm comfy.

I hear my girls screaming.  Good sign.  They're still kickin'.

Suppose I should feed them lunch now, huh?

Anything you feel like confessing?  No judgement from this girl!

A decision to be made

While I was pregnant with Spice, Josh and I decided that upon the baby's delivery, I'd have my tubes tied.

Close to the end of my pregnancy I went in for a routine appointment with the surgeon who cut out my appendix, a malignant tumor and half of my colon.  He asked how my pregnancy was going and if we were going to have any more children.

I told him my pregnancy was going well, but that I was always fearful that my nearly 7" long scar was going to rip open and I'd have my baby a little sooner than I anticipated.

He just looked at me.

Bedside manner (and apparently a sense of humor):

He lacks.

Surgical skillz:

He's gots.

I also told him I was planning to have my tubes tied after the baby was born.

"That won't be possible," he tells me.  He goes on to say that whoever would be doing the procedure wouldn't know what they were up against on my insides.  Scar tissue, blah blah blah.

So.  I didn't have it done.

In December Josh and I decided to try for a baby.

And we breathed a sigh of relief when it didn't happen.

This let me know I wasn't ready to have more children.  I'm not sure I'll ever be ready.

So I called my surgeon's office last week and asked if maybe my doctor could do it since he knows all my inside junk.  The office manager said she'd ask him and get back to me.  She called yesterday.

"Doctor can tie your tubes, Sarah.  Come pick up some paperwork and we'll schedule your consultation."

And just like that I flipped.

I picked up the papers.  But I'm not sure anymore that it's what I want to do.

Josh was okay with it until I told him it was a for sure deal, the procedure could happen, then he wasn't so sure anymore.

{big sigh}


Like, really big sigh.

Goals Sarah Style

I think goals rock.

I'm used to setting them and not following through.  Until 2011 that is.  I actually set a goal to get back in shape (even though round is a shape, it's not the one I was goin' for) and I've been doing it.

The end of January I started jogging.  The beginning of February I started going to the gym.

14 lbs later (14 to go) I'm stoked that I set a goal and stuck to it.

For once in my life.

When I finished my race a month ago, Josh was at the finish line.  He hugged me and said, "I never thought this day would come."  He wasn't being negative.  He just knows I've been lazy.  I've been down on myself.  And he knows that I very often start things without finishing them.

I set a goal.

I stuck to it.

I decided this morning that maybe a few more goals would be a good idea.

So, here are a few personal goals I have.  At the end of the month I'll try to remember to update on how I've done.

Personal Goals:

Lose 14 more lbs.  - I'd like to complete this by my birthday, which is 2 months away.
Gym 3x per week
Run 10 miles per week
Start writing. - I'm not sure what exactly I want to write but I think I need to just write. Some place other than my blog.  Maybe get started on that book my fortune said I should write. (HA!)
Call/email friends weekly.  Also, reply to emails quickly.
Monthly "Sarah days" - a day to unwind.  a day to do what i need to do to breathe.  whether it be a day at Starbucks w/my laptop or a day at the park with my book. I'm realizing it's not selfish to take a day to myself but it's actually healthy.  I need to make it a priority.

Mama Goals:

30 minutes of one on one time with my girls - sounds like it should be so easy since I'm a SAHM.  The thing is, I'm really good at getting myself involved in cleaning or reading or slothfulness over just spending quality time with these little girls.
Weekly date night with one child - a time just going to the park or on a walk or doing whatever it is they want to do.  Then the next week, the next kid.
Yell less, love more - I've really been noticing again lately how my voice rises when I'm speaking to them.  Hurts my mama heart and I need to be doing better.
Kisses - lots and lots of kisses.
Smile - always.

There they are.

How 'bout you?  Have you made any goals lately?  Or accomplished some?

It's a great day to be alive

I'm happy.  The sun is out.  I was up early. Got a shower in.  My girls are still in bed.  I've officially reached my half way mark in my weight loss goal - 14 lbs.

Mostly.

Happy.

Because.

I saw my sister Erica last night.

Those closest to me know that it's been a long road with my sweet sister.  About 26 years long. ☺ Things are going well.  Very, very well.

Maybe cause we only spent a couple hours together last night?  kidding...

Seriously, though.  It was good.  We're good.

I loved sitting on Megan's bed with the two of them.  Laughing.  Making fun of Megan's "Jesus Sandal" collection and trying on her wardrobe.  It's been years since the three of us have been in the same room, in a good place in our lives.

My heart is full.

I Prefer

Brown over black.

Truck over car.

Standard over automatic.

Yes over no.

Summer over Winter.

Bare feet to shoes.

Country music over anything else.

The beach over the mountains.

But dirt over sand.

To be surrounded by people over being alone...most times.

The windows down over air-conditioning.

Beer over wine.

Coffee over chocolate  *gasp*

Steak over chicken.

Books over magazines.

Small town over big city.

Jeans over any other clothing.

Laughing over crying.

Comfortable silence over filler conversation.

Cleaning the toilet over doing the dishes.

Reading silently over reading aloud.

Memories over pictures.

A road trip over a plane ride.

The rain over snow.

Sunshine over clouds.

Campfire over candlelight.

That's Better

It's amazing how writing stuff out, working out, having a beer, getting an email from a blog reader and another from a friend can make ya feel a whole lot better.

It's cloudy today but my mood is not.

I was just replying to the blog reader friend who emailed me about yesterday's post.  I blogged yesterday before I had even completely woken up.  How could I know it wasn't going to be that bad of a day?!

My days of feeling like I did yesterday used to be an everyday occurrence.  I'm thankful that now it's maybe once a week or once every other week.  I really believe that working out is helping TONS.  I feel better about myself, my mood is better after I've been to the gym and my stomach usually hurts more from laughter with Amber than from the ab workout.  I wish I could share the stuff she says, but most of it is completely inappropriate.  (Hi, Amber! Totally ratted you out!)  And it's only inappropriate because the moves we do sometimes are inappropriate and she comments on the moves and it makes me laugh so stinkin' hard.

Josh left me a note this morning.  Telling me I'm doing a good job with the girls and with our home.  Definitely much needed.  A stay at home mom or dad's work is often a thankless job.

I think part of my funk yesterday also had to do with - don't laugh - I wore comfy pants all day.  It makes me feel sloppy and lazy and I hate that.  When I put jeans on (my favorite thing in the world) all is right in my life.  I chose to be a slob and my mood was completely affected.  I put on my favorite pair of jeans immediately after my shower this morning.  When you feel good about your butt, it makes the rest of ya feel good too. ☺

So.  Just wanted to let you all know, I'm better.  Much better.  Ask me again in a coupla weeks, it could be a different story.  But today is good.

{ fog }

Have you ever woken up on March 28th and wondered where you've been for the last two months?

Oh, just me, huh?

I woke up at 2 am.  I couldn't go back to sleep.  The anxiety set in and quickly I was so hot I could barely stand to have the covers on me.

I laid there.

Thinking about my life over the last couple of months or so.  How consumed with me I have been.  Sugar's schooling has been meh.  We do it a couple times a week or so.  She's doing great.  I'm just not doing great as her teacher.  My house isn't a disaster nor is it as clean as it should be.  Menu planning has gone out the window which leaves us to either eat out or have corn tortillas and refried beans night after night.  My husband has gotten used to making his own breakfast every morning, something I really feel I should do for him.

I feel like I've been a bad friend.  Daughter.  Sister.

My header reads, This Beautiful Mess.  that is my faith, my wifeliness, my mothering and my relationships.

My faith.

I have faith.

You just wouldn't know it by the way I live my life sometimes.  I feel like I should be on a billboard for the picture of a Christian Failure.

When am I gonna get this stuff right?

When will I be the wife, mama, teacher, sister, daughter, friend I'm supposed to be?  I feel like I go through this a lot.  This not measuring up stuff.  I can see why people give up.

I can.

The sun is shining.  The grass is greening.  Birds are chirping in the mornings now.  I feel like I should have hope instead of this heavy fog feeling around me.

Maybe tomorrow.

Random was an Order

I've won a coupla awards in my life.

The first was an award for best Valentine's Box when I was in Kindergarten.  (the part of Kindergarten I spent in Phoenix, AZ)

The next award was for best colored picture in middle school.  I won a Pepsi and Snickers.

Then came that fantastic award my Senior year of High School.  "Most Likely to be Seen on Jerry Springer." {such a proud moment on my part}

And then when I worked at Pier 1, it was, "Most Likely to Provide Comic Relief." {still have the award to prove that I AM funny!}

Excellent awards, no?

It's nice.  I was just saying the other day how I don't get any recognition 'round these parts and BAM!  I get an award for:


Kelsey blogs over at HolyMama! and was one of the very first blogs I read when I started my own 4.5 years ago.  I love how real she is.  I love that she doesn't cook(wish I could get away with that).  I love that she has a housekeeper.  And I really appreciate her love for mud.

To accept this award I have to tell you 7 random things about me.  Here's HM's randoms.  And with all the random posts I give you I'm not sure any of them will be new to you.  So, eh, here goes:

I have always, always wanted to be a bartender.  I'm not entirely sure why since drunk people aren't necessarily my favorite but the bar atmosphere is pretty fun.  My mom was a bartender when I was younger and she loved her job.  Maybe that's why?  Anyway, I was recently at a sports bar and since I wasn't drinking any more than my one beer I decided to busy myself and clean up our table and the tables around me.  I took glasses, pitchers and food baskets up to the bar and cleaned up napkins and junk off the floor.  The bartender offered me a job application.  I laughed.  I'd like to believe I would have had the job had I applied.  Which I didn't.  So, yeah, first random fact:  I've always wanted to be a bartender.

(totally struggling to come up with a second thing you may not already know.)

(Josh keeps listing stuff and I'm like, "yeah, they know."  "yeah, they know that too.")

I have a scar on my left shin.  It's a little hole.  That hole fits well with the reason I have the scar.  I was maybe 7.  My mom and step dad were looking for work and home for us in Seattle.  I lived in Gview with my grandma and aunts.  My mom would visit on the weekends or whenever she could.  One day when she was leaving I was chasing after her, crying.  I didn't want her to leave.  I tripped down the steps and landed on some rocks.  One of them embedded into my shin, leaving my scar.  I cannot imagine how hard it must have been for my mom to leave us the way she had to.  Just cannot imagine.

I'm scared of spiders and mice.


I've used a plastic bag as a restroom.

My dream date consists of a warm, rainy day.  A walk, hand in hand.  Starbucks.  And a book store.  You all might already know this but ahem, someone else may not...

I got my first hickey when I was 15. (hey, the rules said seven random things)  That is wrong.  Just plain wrong.  Want to hear the story?  Okay, good. We were hanging out.  Then we were (obviously) kissing and more than I remember kissing, I remember that a Full House rerun was on and Uncle Joey was talking in one of his funny voices.  Obviously a very memorable make-out session.  PS, I totally got caught with my hickey as will any teenager who gets a hickey.

My almost three year old is still in diapers.  Not only that, she will only wear a particular diaper now.  It has to have Mickey and Minnie on it.  Not just the ones with Mickey on the front.  HAS TO BE BOTH OF 'EM.  And she'll cry if you don't give in.  So you give in.  And then when you're done changing her she says, "thank you fur dahper change, Mama."  And so you want to change her dahper forever because she's so polite about it.

One time when I was about 8 months pregnant with Sugar I got stuck in the mud.  Not my car or anything like that.  Me.  I was literally stuck in mud.  My sister and my friend Keri and I were out driving in my cute little Lancer listening to music, windows down and singing at the top of our lungs.  We're driving down the road and we see this HUGE mound of dirt in the road.  In.the.road.  Of course I stop the car because we had first planned to see who could be King of the Mountain (yes, in all my 8 month pregnant glory I was all about climbing a huge mound of dirt) but once we got to the top of the mound we saw that it was actually a pit.  A pit of mud.  We thought it would be fun to put our feet in.  Then we thought it would be fun to put our legs in. And then I couldn't help myself.  I just had to get all the way in.  But then I got stuck.  And my sister and Keri couldn't pull my pregnant butt out of the mud.  And then it started pouring rain.  I was laughing so hard.  It was like my favoritest day ever.  We flagged down a car and asked the guy if he had a cell phone we could borrow.  I called Josh and explained our situation.  When he showed up and saw me we busted up.  He had to pull me out and then he made all three of us sit in the back of his pick-up while it poured rain.  When we got home he hosed us off and I felt a little like Chris Farley in Tommy Boy.

My driver's license says I'm 5'3".  Total lie.  I'm only 5'2".  But when I was 16 I really hoped I'd grow 1 more inch.  Now I'm thankful I didn't because 5+2=7 and I'm freakish with numbers and prefer 5'2" over 5'3" because that would add up to 8.  A number I don't necessarily care for.

Okay, that made 7.

I'm supposed to list a bunch of versatile blogs now.  But I don't read a bunch I'd deem "versatile" so here's the few that came to mind.

This & That.  Head there, stat.  Love these girls.  Need design work done, GO!  They rock.

Peroxide Designs.  The chick kills me.  I've never "met" anyone who has such an awesome way with words.

Stuttering Shell.  We were separated at birth.  Thousands of miles separate us and it's ridiculous.  One day I believe we will hang out with our iced hazelnut breves and Blue Moons.

Um, that's all I'm coming up with at the moment.

Thank you, Kelsey, for the award!  Feelin' lurved.

thankful heart

I'm thankful:

for a phone call from Emily.  It's rare we talk on the phone but so great when we do.

for my in-laws.  We spent all of Sunday with every one of 'em.  I love them all.  Even Chad.  ;)

for free hockey tickets.  I'd never been to a game before and the first time I go it was sold out but we ended up with FREE tickets.  I {heart} free goods.

to have had the chance to hang out with friends I haven't seen in over 10 years.  What a hoot.

that the Hurd family stayed with us.  They are missionaries in Africa and we were lucky to have them stay with us for a few days.  Good times.  (Thank you, Jerry, for fixing my iTunes!) (Thank you, Breanna, for doing my dishes and bathing my girls!)

for a husband who supports me going to the gym at crazy hours.  Thankful he finishes up dinner and puts the girls to bed if I'm not here.  Thankful he knows when I need out of the house even if I don't know it.  Just plain thankful for him.  He rocks.

for Amber.  For our friendship.  For MySpace that brought us together.  For Jerrod Niemann with the windows down.

for Spice.  Seriously, the kid kills me.  She's started laughing like Janice.  Janice from Friends.  YouTube Janice from Friends.  That's how my kid laughs.  I need to get it on video and post it.  It's my favorite sound in the whole wide world.

for Starbucks, Pandora, earbuds and my laptop.

for sunshine and flip flops.

to be able to wear jeans I haven't worn since Sept. '08.

to finally have lost a couple more pounds after plateauing for a few weeks.

for beer.  I'm not gonna lie.  I like it.  I'm not a huge drinker.  A couple a week.  Enough.

to have known a man named Ron Reyer.  He was the dad of my best friend from middle school.  He joked with me, picked on me, loved on me, took me camping, took me to church.  And last week, through Facebook I see he lost his battle with cancer.  My heart hurts over the family's loss.

that Melissa is movin' back to our 'hood soon.  Seriously, first Candee and now Melissa.  My life is nearing perfect.  (Hey, Linds...wanna bring The Quads back together por vida?)

for Brie. and brown sugar. and dijon mustard. and bread.  YUM.

that my girls love dirt.  They were outside today playing with Hot Wheels in the dirt.  Who needs boys when ya have tomboys?  (though I'd love a sweet little boy to snuggle)

my nieces.  They bring me much joy.

for encouraging texts from Linds.

for mashed potatoes.

That's a start.  I'm happy today.  It was a good day.

What are you thankful for?

Apology and other schtuff

I'm sorry for my rant earlier.

My heart was/is hurting.

And when that happens, sometimes the only thing that helps is to write it out.

I'm not in counseling right now.  I wonder if that's a smart decision on my part.  I was telling a friend that after my counseling sessions I had about 48 hours where I felt "normal."  Now, there's not much normalness going on.

Today sucked for most of the day.

Til around 4ish.  When I plopped myself in front of my laptop with a breve and put my earbuds in while sitting in Starbucks.

Josh had been calling throughout the day, he does that when he's working out of town, and he knew my day was sucking.

Big time.

He started work at 5 am today so he was home at 3.  When he got here he said, "go."  I told him I didn't even feel like leaving the house.  He informed me that meant I really needed to get out.

I got my gym clothes together, my yoga mat, my laptop and earbuds and out the door I went.

I was crabby.

And then I walked into that wonderful coffee shop and all was right in my world!

Then it was time for Body Flow (which Amber someone wanted to skip and just go for dinner) and I got my butt kicked.  Again.  I haven't been in a week and it was obvious.  Josh and I discussed a schedule for my gym time and our family time and his training time as well.

Hopefully we can get stuff flowing a little better around here while maintaining some sort of flexibility should something come up.

On Sunday we mapped out a course for me to jog near the house that will be right around 3 miles.  I have to get myself off the treadmill or I won't progress.  It's too easy after 1 mile or 2 miles to just be done.  The treadmill is boring.  The three miles I did on Saturday went so fast.  It was nice to be outside.  Our town has had a ton of gang violence lately so I'm a little skerd to get out there but I'm just gonna do it!

Bloomsday is in a month and a half and that'smore than twice the run I did Saturday.  I need to get ready for it.  I'm pretty excited about it.

So, sorry for earlier rant.  I'm feeling quite a bit better.  thankyouverymuch.

I love days like today

When everything goes wrong.

Nothing goes right.

When the baby 2 year old swallows a penny but not before she choked on it awhile.

When a huge spider is crawling on the almost 6 year old while she screams.

When the sister is in the ER.

When a friend up and quits you.

When the dog smells.

And hamburger is (still) repulsive.

My shins hurt from Saturday.

My heart hurts from...from everything.

One thing I'm learning (yep, I can be taught) I'm stronger than I normally give myself credit for.  I'll get through this day.

And the days after it.

Race Results

I finished!

I was a mess of nerves the night before and the day of.  Almost to the point of being in a bad mood.

i ended up putting pants on cuz i was cold & totally regretted it

We got there early (it's how I roll) and while waiting for the 5K to start (a kid race and a 10K started first) I ended up having to pee (excellent timing).  I'm a big fan of porta potties.  (for real, would rather use one of those than a plastic bag or public restroom anyday.)

Anyway, so on my way back from using the outhouse I'm trying to find Candee.  It didn't work.  What did work is that my friend, Jessica, found me.

Jessica.  The girl who a few months ago started her own training.  But for a way bigger race.  A half marathon.  We chatted for a sec and she asked what my goal was.  I told her the same thing I told you guys.  But somehow she knows me and says, "but what's your real goal?"

as if.

I never thought I could make a 34 minute 5K.  But I still wanted a 30-31 minute 5K.

So, I told her the truth.  I'd love 30 minutes.

She's on the injured list and needed to run slower.  I'm on the short bus list and needed someone to push me.

She offered.

What I love about this is that it was her who got me pumped to start running again and it was her who pushed my ass all through the race.  (sorry, I said ass.)

But it's true.  We ran side by side for awhile but she was ahead of me throughout the race.  I wanted to keep up so I busted my butt.  If not for her inspiration, I seriously would never have started jogging six weeks ago.

For the most part the course was flat.  Which is good for a wimp like me.  But during my Cross Country days I loved the hills.  They made me work harder for some reason.  At the end of the course, to hit the finish line of this race there was a hill.  The only one in the race and it's right at the finish line.

I decided to kick it in, the way I used to do 14 years ago.  But this time I didn't have much left in me to kick in.  I was spent.  I had one girl I wanted to pass at the end but it just didn't happen.

That's okay.  I finished.

And I finished with a time of 31:20.

{more} ramblings from the nervous chick

I posted a status to FB awhile ago saying that I hope Jesus comes back today so I don't have to run the race tomorrow.

I'm starting to get pretty nervous.  Okay, I'm pretty much FUH-REAKING out.  It hasn't been pretty.  When nerves set in on this girl...watch out!

I drove down to the place where the race will start and finish.  It starts at 10 so if I'm there at 7, that should be good, right?  Okay, I won't really be that early but prolly pretty close.

I'm so ready for this to be done and over with.  Mostly because I want the green beer at the end and so I never ever have to run again if I don't want to.

I didn't get home until midnight last night (this morning?) and Josh and I stayed up talking for awhile and it seemed like as soon as I fell asleep the girls were waking up.

Oh, probably because they got up at FIVE!  Who does that?!  Argh.  It was ugly.  So, the four of us were crammed into our bed.  The girls giggling and me growling.  Next time I'm just headed up to Sugar's bed.

I know I posted my goal for the race but can we pretend I didn't?

Mostly, I realized, I just want to finish.

{ I }

am 5'2".

don't like spiders.

love gerbera daisies.

started classes to be a real estate agent when i was 22.

didn't wear shoes that showed my toes until i was about 16.

hate my nose.

and my frizzy hair.

enjoy books.

prefer the beach to the mountains.

but prefer dirt to sand.

had my first kiss when i was way too young to be kissing boys.

like coke and pepsi.

cried for my baby sister today.

think my husband has the sexiest back muscles.  he looks nice all the way around but i really enjoy his back.

love the smell of my girls when they've come in from playing in the dirt.

hate people who are rude.

laugh too loud at inappropriate times.

miss my dad today.

wish that it was 75 degrees year round.

have never been to TX or TN and hope to remedy that soon.

wear Love Spell from Victoria's Secret.

wore Vanilla Fields in high school.

hated 7th grade.

hated 8th grade, too.

couldn't be paid enough money to be 9 years old again.

also couldn't be paid enough money to be 21-24 again either.

wonder if i'll ever get my act together.

cry when i see roadkill.

am afraid of front doors on places i've never been.

love all kinds of music but country is where my heart is at.

will have a nephew in June.

can't wait to snuggle him and kiss him and smell him.

Starbucks drive-thru play by play

I'm sitting in Starbucks.

Earbuds in.  Pandora playing.  Lady Antebellum if you're curious.

Venti iced hazelnut breve at my side.  (it was free so why not get the big guy, right?)

I am, of course, sitting by the window so I can stare at everyone who goes through the drive-thru.

People watch.  It's what I do.

A short haired blonde woman with two blonde haired children just left the drive-thru driving a Honda Odyssey.  She probably grabbed herself a cup of coffee to get through the evening madness.

At least that's what I do on occasion.

I can handle morning time fairly well, evenings can be a whole other story.  Everyone is tired and cranky and ready for the day to be over.  Yet there are still so many hours left of the day and they include dinner prep and baths and being social with one another when really, we've already used up all our words for the day about two hours ago.

Or, maybe she was grabbing a cup of coffee before they head out on a road trip.  That's always my fave.  I love me a good road trip.  And a coffee in hand makes it that much more delightful.

Anyway, I'm at Starbucks all by my lonesome.  It's a treat.

I just picked up my number and chip for Saturday's race.  I'm number 71.  There are over 600 people registered online.  I'm trying not to freak out.  It's not working very well at all.  I asked if they had a course map.  Nope.  Okay, well since I'll be in back I'll just follow everyone else.

We now have a little red beat up Honda Civic in the drive-thru.  And I totally didn't expect the driver to be a woman in her mid 40's.  But it was.

Pandora is now playing some Kenny Chesney.

Drive thru just sported another Honda Odyssey.  Three Hondas since I started this post.

The wind is crazy today.  I posted on Twitter that I was thankful I'm chubby otherwise the wind mighta knocked me over.

Being chubby has its perks I s'pose.

You also don't have to iron since you just fill out all the wrinkles in your clothes!

2 pts for chubbies!

Can you tell I'm absolutely bored and don't know what to do with myself?  So I just ramble.

Oh man, now it's Jerrod Niemann's Lover Lover on Pandora!  Life is good.  And I'm totally rocking out in Starbucks.  I look like I'm crazy.

We now have a blue Pontiac in the drive-thru.  Can't see the driver yet but I'm going to guess male.

I was so wrong.

18ish year old perky blonde girl.

While I was on the treadmill today Spice decided to mess with my laptop.  The little turd somehow disabled my touchpad.  I had no clue how to fix 'er.  So, all day I was having to use a mouse which I'm now out of the habit of using.

Finally got the brains to Google "enable touchpad" and BAM! She's all fixed now.  I was pretty proud of myself.

We now have a Dodge Durango in the drive-thru.  Guessing it's a guy...

And we have Gary Allan on Pandora.

Are you loving the play by play or totally bored like I am?

I honestly can't tell you if the driver was a man or woman.  I hope people don't ever think that about me.

Okay, I'm through rambling.  You don't need to thank me.

My Goal in Black and White

I said last week that I'd post my goal for Saturday's 5K.

I don't want to post my goal.

I want to throw out some really high number that I know I can beat.

But I'm just going to do it.  I'm going to write it.  Here.  And I'm going to pray like crazy that I'm under it.

I'm embarrassed even to say what it is because it seems sooo slow.

Oh well.

Here goes.

34 minutes and 36 seconds.  Because adding those numbers comes to 7.

And I'm freaky when it comes to numbers.  (among other things I'm freaky about but that's what the last 4.5 years of blog material has already told you about me.)

So.

There it is.  34 minutes.  36 seconds.

Here goes nothin'.

a true friend posts videos to your fb wall that make you laugh til you snort

On Saturday I laughed so hard I couldn't breathe.

My wonderful friend, Jeana, posted this video to my FB wall.  She knows my love for all things flip flops and I also might have a little blog titled Going Top-less (muffin top-less) so naturally with a video titled Flip Flops and Muffin Tops she would think of me.



Thank you, Jeana.

{I am anything but} Glamorous

My alarm used to go off and I'd groan.

Sleepily throwing my hand on and smashing the snooze button.

Just nine more minutes.

Then.

I'd brush my teeth.

Shower.

Pick out a dressy casual outfit.

Put on my make up.

Scrunch up my short hair.

Take a look in the mirror.

And head out the door.  Leaving my house in disarray.  My house, though I loved it...I never felt adequate.

I got inside my little red Mitsubishi Lancer, cranked the Country music and drove 35 miles to work.

I took my exit, a little too fast.  Took my first right and swung through the backside of the Target parking lot.  I pulled into my usual parking spot in front of Pier 1 imports.  Checked my makeup in the mirror.  Glanced at my cell phone, always 20 minutes early.

Enough time to grab a coffee from across the parking lot, talk to the stand owner and then open up the store.

The moment I walked into that store I no longer felt inadequate.  I was where I belonged.  I knew what was expected of me and I daily met or exceeded those expectations.

Lights. On.

Music. On.

Check our numbers from the same day last year.

See who I had working with me for the day.  And smile because it was Dana, a 19 year old fresh faced, happy-go-lucky girl.

Schuyler a 19 year old 6'4" kid with a baby.  Flirty, funny Schulyer.

Amie.  Stand-offish.  Attitude.  Heart of gold.

And Alison.  The tall beautiful girl that I didn't want coming to work there because I was just sure she'd be the snobbiest of the snobbies.  But I loved her immediately.  Finally, someone who understood my sarcasm and could take it as well as dish it. 

She was fabulous.  So fabulous, my youngest has her name.

I set our goal for $1000 higher than last year's number and unlocked the doors. 

Ready for customers.

They'd slowly trickle in.

I'd smile.  Tell them good morning and let them browse about five minutes before I approached them.

"I'm supposed to ask for Sarah Lee."  Some of them would say.

And that's when my sales would start.  They'd come in for $25 worth of candles and I'd sell them those candles and a couple of chairs and an end table to match that they hadn't planned to buy.

$1500 to the occasional $6000 days.

I was good at my job.  I loved my job. 

There was recognition.  There were awards.  There were thank yous and well dones.

There was always something to talk about when I got home in the evenings.  You know, if someone was home to listen.  Or, I'd call Josh while he was in Montana or Oregon or Idaho and tell him about my day.

He was proud of me.

"You should sell cars," he'd tell me.  (He even just said this last night)

I was proud of me.

And then my firstborn came along.  I always knew I'd want to be a stay-at-home-mom.  So that's exactly what I've been for six years.

My alarm clock became the cries of a child.  And my dressy casual outfit became sweatpants and a hoodie.

My sporty Lancer turned into a minivan.

And the good jobs and well dones, and the recognition...

Well.

Well they don't exist anymore.

A lot of the time I'm okay with that.  This is my job.  The one I've chosen.

But it's a hard job.

And it's the least glamorous one out there.

I no longer have exciting stories to share. 

And once again, I feel inadequate.

I daily feel I'm not doing enough.  Sure, the house is clean enough, bills are paid, dinner is planned and the kids are still alive at the end of a day.

I know there are woman, those who are mothers and those who are not who would love to be in the position I'm in.  I am sure I sound ungrateful. 

I'm not.

I'm just going through a rough time.

Whether one works outside the home or not, I think at some point we all get a little fed up.

Right now, that's me.  I'm fed up.

Fed up with not being good at this job.  Fed up with the lack of recognition.  The long hours with no overtime pay.  No sick leave or paid vacations.

And in a few days this will pass and I'll be fine again.

But for today I'm dreaming of getting in my little red car and pulling into a familiar parking lot and walking into a building where I know I'm good at what I do.

an update on the whole race and weight loss endeavor and a bunch of parenthesis

owie.

oh.

owie.

Amber someone had a brilliant idea to do a different class than our normal yoga. So we went last night.  (she's been before) and I got my butt kicked.

I'd say I got my ass kicked but that might offend some.  So I'll just say I got my butt kicked.

It's called Body Flow.  Sounds easy enough, right?

WRONG.

Oh.my.word.

By the end of class I was a sweaty, nauseated mess.  My abs hurt, my arms hurt, my legs hurt and if I still had my appendix it would probably have hurt, too.

I left class trying to come up with other exercises that could work all those other muscles that would be a little more enjoyable and less killer.  I thought of one and well, this blog is mostly rated PG. 

And we should keep it that way.

(I know, what's happened to me.  I swear and elude to *ahem* references in a blog post, you'd think I was drinking something stronger than Folgers.)

(kinda wish I were, even if it is 8:07 am)

My race is next Saturday.  Not this Saturday.  The next one.  The 12th.

The day my favorite 11 year old niece turns 12.

(Happy Birthday, S.  I'll give you my last place trophy!)  (I'll do anything for my nieces.)

Anywho, back to the race.  It's coming up.  I want to vomit just thinking about it.  Josh keeps telling me it's only 3 miles.  I'm totally aware, dude.  But the last time I ran three consecutive miles I was 17, 105 lbs and only lugged around a B cup.  (sorry male readers).  I'm 30, 142 lbs (eeeeek) and a newly reduced C cup.  I gots me a whole lot more to carry now.

These three miles.

They might be the end of me.

I'm not going to post my race goal just yet.  Next week at this time, I will. 

The weight loss has been slow and steady.  I like it.  I started out nearly 5 weeks ago weighing 153.  (seriously, I'm posting this for the world, what is in this coffee??) I'm down 11 lbs as of Friday.  11 lbs results in 1 cup size, 1 pant size and a little less in the love handle department.

I have 17 lbs to go for my goal weight of 125.  At this point I'm not going to say I'd like to be pre-pregnancy weight.  I don't know if it's possible and I think 125 will be great.

And I shall now end this really rambly post.  Apparently I talk a lot when I've been up since 4:45 and have a cup of Folgers in me.

Summer

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?

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.

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.

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?

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.

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 of my 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.

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.

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 up my 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.

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.



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.

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 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.

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.

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 of my 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.

{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.

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.

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.

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. 

{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 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.

Monday random

I don't know what's happened to my blogging.

I've become a little bored with it.

I haven't read anyone else's posts either.  My reader is over 500 unread posts.

I've been working out.  My treadmill has seen more of me than the clothes I normally hang on it.  That's a good sign.  I was at the gym a few days last week.  Headed there tonight and in the morning for a Pilates/Yoga class.  I'm sure to make an idiot out of myself.

Thank goodness Amber will be there to laugh at me with me. 

My lab results were clear.  I've now been cancer free for 3 years and 11 months.

Maybe one of these days I'll post a picture of my stomach immediately after surgery.  It's kinda gross.  I like it.  But I'm weird like that.

I have a few more days until I can take my iPhone back.  Trying to decide whether or not to keep 'er.  It's been a fun few weeks but I wonder if I'm spending too much time with it.

I just made reservations for my mom and me for Valentine's Day.  I'm kind of a VD hater.  Okay, not hater.  But it's just this day where there's a ton of pressure for men to do fabulous things for the one they love and I don't want to be that girl who expects too much of her husband.  So, I figure it's better to just ask him to babysit our kids while I take my (single) mother out for a nice dinner.

While we're talking about my (single, have I mentioned she's single??) mother.  Anyone know of any single males, 50ish, who knows how to swim that might be interested in a single woman who is ridiculously quirky in a very cute way?  Please email me.  I'm open to an arranged marriage.  Or mail order bride.

I spent the weekend scrapbooking.  Being made fun of for losing my voice (thanks, Chad!) and drinking coffee.  It was fabulous.  I seriously did nothing but eat, scrap and drink coffee.  Well, I went for a wog (walk/jog) alone in the morning on Saturday.  2 miles!  It only took me 30 minutes, but whatev.  I did it.

This cold I have is seriously kicking my butt.  It's bad.  I've taken more meds in the last coupla days than I've taken in my life.  I want to be well.  Need to be well!

I got exciting news today.  I'm a happy girl.

No, I'm not pregnant.

I took the girls to the library last week and had to pay a $22 fine.  Ugh.  That hurts my heart.  And checkbook.

Today I've had water, dried fruit and Starbucks.  I'd like a steak, mashed potatoes and some asparagus for dinner.

I've decided to do the St. Patrick's Day Dash in Seattle.  Yep.  I decided.  Josh wants to do it too.  He'll have to drag me across the finish line but he's okay with it.  It's a little over 3 miles so that's really not bad at all.  But when you're carrying around an extra 30 lbs it makes 3 miles feel like 300.  Maybe by then it won't be 30.  More like 28 or 29.

I'm currently addicted to watching Grey's Anatomy on Netflix Instant Play.  Addicted.

I slept on the couch last night because I coughed all night long.  Didn't want to keep the husband awake.  I choked on a cough drop.

I didn't have to dance into my pants today.  They came outta the dry and buttoned up like a dream. 

Oh, wait.  Those were sweats.  Nevermind.