Daily Dose of Dahl

Motivation Monday

2012-02-13T22:49:00.001-06:00

Weigh in day. 8 pounds down from last week. I'll take it!

Now it's confession time: I skipped Plyo and Yoga X last week. Plyo I can justify because I do enough jumping around in Zumba. Missing Yoga X is harder to defend. I can see in so many ways how it helps me. Endurance, strength, and of course flexibility. But UGH. I hate doing it. It's an hour and a half of trying to bend and twist and stretch and hold my body into positions it has no intention of forming. But then again, the fact that it's so hard is also part of its appeal. At least, that's what I'm telling myself. Oddly enough, the very hardest part is getting my mind quiet. My mind does not like to be quiet. When it's quiet, it's unable to over-analyze and obsess. And really now, what fun is that?

I did my first clap push ups last week. They were weak, but I did them. On my toes and everything. Today was the same workout and it didn't go nearly as well. Which stinks, but whatcha gonna do except try harder next time.

Life improvement my way.

2012-02-12T23:02:00.000-06:00

This has been one whirlwind of a week!

I've been lucky enough to talk to Chris a lot in the past week. It's been completely amazing. And I've also texted more in the last week than I have since I started texting combined. At least I'm finally getting better at it. I can respond in under a minute now. Yay me. And to think I said a few years ago that I'd never text. Tsk tsk. I should know better. By the time my kids are both 18, cell phones probably won't even have actual telephonic features. Just social media apps.

Sigh.

So last night, things sort of started winding down. We mostly stayed around the house and for whatever bizarre reason I thought it would be a good idea to start de-cluttering. Which in itself is hilarious because for me to de-clutter I have to take stuff from somewhere and put it somewhere else and then pick and choose what I put back. Only when I start to go through it, the most bizarre thing happens and I find myself not able to get rid of all that much. So really all I'm doing is reorganizing. Eventually I get into a snit and just clean it all out. Last night was not one of those nights.

I tackled the kids' toy closet. We had an old chest of drawers in there that we kept cars and dolls and smaller things in. But that chest of drawers is on its last, sad, press board leg. The metal runners that keep the drawers lined up are even slipping off so the whole drawer just sort of collapses which puts a lot of stress on the cheaply made drawer joints so now they are starting to come apart. And nothing says "tetanus shot" like ripping your finger open on a cruddy old staple. Not that I've ever done that before.

Right in the middle of that I decide that I need official storage and organization stuff. So I set a plan in motion for today that I'd go to Target and buy the storage cube organizer that I've been coveting for years.

And that's what the kids and I did today. We bought one for beside the front door and one for the toy closet. And then I managed to actually put them together without nailing anything to the carpet or stripping a screw or smashing my fingers. Although, the little plastic screw covers did manage to all pop off within an hour of being firmly smushed into the screws, but I'm chalking that up to a design flaw.

Saturday night's alright for bolting

2012-02-12T00:05:00.001-06:00

A couple of weeks ago, Tucker 'lost' the pen for his Nintendo DS in the backseat of the car. Now, when I say 'lost' I mean he dropped it and it got pushed down into the crack of the seat.

It was quite the traumatic event.

I've dug around a couple of times in the back seat trying to find it, I've had no luck. I also get grossed out with the amount of sticky, crumbly, yucky stuff that's ground into the cracks of the seats back there.Of course, when I see that, then I start mumbling about how there isn't going to be any more eating or drinking in the car, which I know isn't true even as I mumble it.

For whatever reason, I decided today that it would be a good idea to take the backseat out. I might as well clean the car while I was at it. After I vacuumed and scraped and vacuumed and scraped some more, the interior was looking pretty good. The outside is, unfortunately, dotted with bird poop and it's way too cold today to wash it. One thing at a time anyway, right?

I was hoping the owners manual would shed some light on how to get the seat out. It didn't. So I googled it and figured out that either it would pop up if hit or it would be bolted in.

Of course it was bolted. The bolt is inconveniently located in the crack of bottom and back seat. And lest you get impressed with my ability to figure this much out, let me just say it now - I called my brother who used to work on Hondas because I didn't have the patience to figure this one out for myself nor did I want to break anything.

Bolt located, I then needed a 10mm socket and an extender because the location of this bolt is once again impossible. Well, after digging through three different tool boxes I finally found a 10mm bolt. Unfortuntely no extender. Bah!

In the middle of this process while half in and half out of the car and trying to make the socket wrench I do have work, I text a comment about the seat removal process to the wrong person. Hey, it was poor lighting and I was practically in an advanced yoga pose. It happens.

Frustrated that nothing was working as planned, I come up with the brilliant idea of having Tucker actually show me where the pen was when it got pushed down. He grudgingly comes out and says it was console in the back seat.

Well now wait a second. That shouldn't have allowed it to be pushed down in between the seats. Is he sure? Yes he's sure.

Hmmm. I've had my hand shoved in between the back seats covering every inch of available space and that pen is nowhere to be found. So I asked Tucker if he'd stick his hand in there and see if he could feel it. No luck.

I can only imagine where that pen is. And then I get the bright idea to check online and see how much a new pen would be.

I can get a four pack for around $8. That sounds like a much better deal to me that buying an extender and trying to wrench the seat out. It would have, I'm pretty sure, sounded just as appealing if I had thought to check before I went to all the trouble of trying to take the seat out in the first place. Plus I already broke a nail and darn near shredded my finger on something.

On the upside, I did get the interior really clean. That's gotta count for something. And somewhere Robert is doing a happy dance that he didn't have to be here for this little adventure. Who can blame him?

Adventures in eating

2012-02-11T22:11:00.000-06:00

A friend of mine invited me to a cooking class on Wednesday. I'm not going to lie, she had me at "Would you like to...." and the icing on the proverbial cake was that it was a cooking class. On the menu? Winter salad, pannini, and chocolate covered strawberries.

When we got there and the class began, I was surprised to find we weren't actually doing the cooking. We were given the recipes and we got to eat the menu items, but the instructor did the actual prep, cooking, and assembly.

I'm not much of an adventurous eater, so this made me nervous. Because, really, how on earth am I supposed to leave off all the stuff I don't want if I'm not making the food?

Or - maybe this was an opportunity to break out of my comfort zone. Or maybe I was just really hungry and figured it wouldn't kill me to just try it.

Either way, I tried it all. And it was soooo good. The salad was mixed greens, blueberries, pears, walnuts, almonds, pecans and three types of oranges drizzled with an apple cider reduction dressing.

They ended up serving two sandwiches: the pannini and a version of grilled cheese with goat cheese, bacon, strawberries, fresh basil, and spinach. Oh. my. goodness. They were both delicious. I'd love to say I'd make them myself, but I just can't justify spending so much money on ingredients for a couple sandwiches. And I know there's no way the kids would touch them.

Let's give 'em something to talk about

2012-02-08T01:41:00.000-06:00

I haven't been blogging much lately. There's a reason for that. Okay, a couple of reasons.

1) Robert is away for a while and my focus is more family centered and less self centered. At least, I hope so.

2) My work out schedule is no joke. I. am. tired.

3) I was having a hard time coming up with things to blog about. True, the kids keep me on my toes and at least once a day I think "Wow. I should blog or twitter that." But I rarely write it down and I often forget it by the time I have a chance to send it out on Blogger, Facebook or Twitter.

And then something miraculous happened. I'm not really sure this is my story to tell, but I can tell my side and hopefully protect the innocent.

When I was 21, I found out I was pregnant. It wasn't planned. I was seeing someone, but it wasn't a relationship that had any sort of future. And, as sometimes happens, things had already started to go badly.

I was barely supporting myself and there was no way I could support me plus one. No health insurance, no savings, moving back and forth between apartments with room mates and my mom's house...it was not the best case scenario in which to try to raise a child. I did some research and decided that adoption was the best of the possible solutions for me and the baby.

Fast Forward...

So, I had the baby. After a couple of agonizing weeks of trying to figure out a way that I could keep him, I could not deny that he would end up suffering for it, so I placed him with the family I had chosen. I still can't really talk about that phase of my life. It's too painful and too hard. It changed everything for me. It changed me. I also told no one unless I absolutely had to.

Fast forward 19 years. I knew I could write him when he turned 18. It took me an entire year to write the letter to him and to his parents. What on earth can you possibly say? I had no idea or no indication if my letter would be welcomed or rejected so I prepared for the worst.

I hadn't even seen a picture since he turned 5.

I sent the letters to the adoption agency and hoped for the best. A few days later I emailed to confirm that they had received it, only to discover that he had called wanting contact information for me the day it had arrived. He wanted to contact me. I was elated.

I just knew I would hear from him, so I waited. And waited. And waited.

::crickets::

I knew that he probably just wasn't ready. I had already found him on Facebook, but wasn't going to contact him unless he wanted contact with me.

In the meantime, I ran across some adoption blogs and there's nothing like seeing an adoptee write hate filled words about bio and adoptive parents to give you a nice little wake up call. I had to face the fact that he may not want contact. Now or ever.

One way to find out, right? So I sent him a short message on Facebook. This was in August. And I waited.

As time went by and I hadn't heard from him, I'd check his Facebook page every now and then, but began to resign myself that I might never hear from him. At Christmas, I wished him Merry Christmas.

Saturday night, when I got home from the Zumbathon, I got the kids to bed and went to bed myself. I woke up not too long after that feeling really restless, so I went downstairs to get some water. My phone message light was blinking so I checked it and what was on there? A friend request. From HIM.

Back upstairs I went to get my glasses so I could freaking see, and I accepted immediately. He had just seen my message that I'd written back in August. Since we weren't Facebook friends, it had been in his other folder and he thought it was spam. I messaged him back immediately and was surprised that he messaged me right back too. We chatted online for a few hours and made plans to talk on the phone the next night.

And the rest is history that we are in the process of making.

So, everyone, I'd like to introduce you to Chris (World, meet Chris. Chris, meet World). With his permission you'll be hearing a lot about him from here on out.

Motivation Monday

2012-02-06T23:56:00.003-06:00

Weighed in this morning. I'm actually up two pounds. Crap.

It wasn't the start to the morning I had hoped, but I dropped the kids off at school and hit the gym. Time to keep on keepin' on, right?

So I really pushed myself at the gym today and I felt better. Then I went to Zumba this afternoon and felt much better. Because you know Zumba makes everything better. Or it at least makes you tired enough that you don't care as much.

Now that I'm back on track with exercise and diet, next week should be better.

Zumbathon Saturday

2012-02-04T21:54:00.001-06:00

I just spent close to three hours Zumba-ing. It was awesome. Details later, but none of my pictures came out - probably because I don't know how to use my camera correctly. Yes, I could read the instruction manual, but then I'd have no excuse for awful pictures. Ha!

UPDATE:
Here's a picture Michelle took at the Zumbathon. I was a wee bit sweaty.

Motivation Monday

2012-01-30T22:55:00.000-06:00

Wowsers. My kids are on an Inspector Gadget kick. I totally blame that for my wowsers habit.

Let me just be real - last week suuuuuucked.

Sara got sick early Thursday morning with the dreaded stomach flu. All of my laundering and Clorox wiping and Lysol using was all for naught and I ended up getting sick in the middle of a fund raising event for the Y on Friday night. I'm a fun girl that way.

But even before that, I was struggling. I think my iron is low again because my energy level is in the crapper. This week in P90X-land, it was rest and recovery week.

HA! Don't let the phrase fool you.

It was neither restful or recovery oriented.

And, for the first time since Christmas, I missed my Thursday through Saturday workouts. It was awful. I do not even want to try to explain how much missing those workouts tortured me.

Time to take a deep breath and attempt to be rational. I tried to stick to the schedule, but it just didn't work out and I did manage to drag myself to Zumba on Sunday. It was really, really hard but I gave it my all.

I'm not sure what the heck has happened but ever since Robert left, I'm all schedule oriented which has never been my thing. It's spooky.

Of course, now it's Monday but tomorrow is also end of the month. I weighed and took measurements today and my four week total is......15 pounds and 15.5 inches. I was hoping for more since there was very minimal food intake Thursday through Sunday, but it is what it is. And 15 pounds in a month is nothing to sneeze at. For real.

I'm looking forward to the new week and starting the new phase of P90X. Unfortunately, that still includes YogaX. And Plyo. That's in addition to a bunch more different types of push ups and pull ups and all sorts of fun new stuff.

On the brighter side, I bit the bullet and registered for Zumba instructor training this week.

Because of that I actually watched myself in the mirror at Zumba this afternoon. I figure if I'm going to expect others to watch me Zumba then I need to know what they'll see.

Have I mentioned that I prefer not to look at myself in the mirror as a whole - especially when rapidly moving so that the jiggly parts jiggle. But it wasn't as bad as I feared. My feet do this really weird floppy thing, though, which would have made me giggle had I not still been gasping for air. Also? My collarbones are HUGE. (And, um, YAY that they show up these days, right?!!?!)

See you next week if I'm still alive. HA!

Taking a sick day

2012-01-26T10:13:00.001-06:00

As a stay at home mom, you don't really get sick days.

It kinda sucks.

When Robert is home, I know I can go and lie down if I'm not feeling well (or, say, just need to escape.)

But guess what? Robert isn't here right now.

Guess it's a good thing that I'm not the sick one...yet.

Yesterday and last night everything was fine. This morning, Sara came into our bedroom asking for a drink of water. Not long after that was what I call the cough of spewing.

Robert has horrible acid reflux. So does his dad, so does his mom. So it wouldn't be unheard of if one of our kids ends up with acid reflux too.

Meet Sara, resident diva and often astounding drama queen.

We've never had her diagnosed because taking Sara to the doctor goes something like this:

S: I don't feeeeeel good.
Parent: What's wrong?
S: I don't know.
Parent: Hmm. When you know let me know and we'll try to figure it out.
S: I don't feeeeeeeeel good!!!
Parent: What hurts?
S: My stomach.
Parent: How does your stomach hurt?
S: I don't know.
Parent: Sharp pain? Cramp? Achy?
S: I DON'T KNOW!
Parent: Want a tums?
S: Yes.
::chewing::
Parent (after a couple minutes): Are you feeling better?
S: No, but can I have a cookie?
Parent: Um, no.
S: I don't feel good. :: whining, crying, flinging herself about in hysterics::
Parent: Okay, I'll make an appointment with the doctor to see if we can figure this out.

four to sixteen days later:

Dr: So what's the problem?
Parent: She keeps complaining that her stomach hurts.
Dr: Does she have a virus?
Parent: No.
Dr: blood in her stool?
Parent: Not that I've seen.
Dr: What does she eat?
Parent: For breakfast usually cereal, yogurt, or fruit. For lunch, usually a PB&J, chips or carrots, and dinner she'll eat a chicken, mac and cheese, pasta, veggies, fruits..she eats pretty well. She doesn't like meat very much or anything spicy. She normally drinks milk, water, or kool-aid.
Dr: ::poking on her stomach:: well, I think she's okay.

So helpful.

These days, she'll ask for a Tums if her stomach is bothering her. So when she came in this morning and asked for water and then started coughing after she swallowed, I knew what was coming.

Me: Sara, does your tummy hurt?
S: NO! (this means yes, btw)
Me: Okay, let's go into the bathroom, okay?
S: NO! I DON'T NEED TO! ::shrieking::
Me: Well, I need to go to the bathroom.

as I'm sitting on the toilet, she walks to the door of the bathroom with her hand on her throat, swallowing rapidly.

Me: Sara if you need to throw up, please at least throw up in here so I don't have to clean the carpet or the mattress.
S: I DON'T!!! ::banshee type screaming. pause. gurgling. more swallowing:: I DON........

photo from http://www.mypapercrane.com. Genius!!

Cue vomit.

I knew it. I had the trashcan at the ready, so with my super mom ninja skills I slid it under her as she doubled over to vomit all over my bathroom. Most of it even went in there. Score!

Guess I know what I'm going to be doing today.

Having a sick day. With any luck it will just be today and Tucker and I will escape the toilet and trash can tour.

The question is....::in my best albeit pathetic Clint Eastwood voice:: do I feel lucky, punk?

Motivation Monday

2012-01-24T09:07:00.001-06:00

You know what? There's an athlete inside me somewhere.

When I'm panting for air and my muscles are trembling with strain and exhaustion, I can feel her, deep down inside me telling me I can DO this. One more rep, 30 more seconds, I have it in me.

And, in those moments I feel like I can conquer the world.

She's the reason I push forward on the days when working out seems like the worst idea in the world.

I can see glimpses of her now, through this stubborn layer of fat that has trapped her and tried to smother her one piece of cheesecake at a time. She's starting to break through after three years of effort. You'd think she'd be too tired by now, but nope. Not this girl.

I like this girl. She's strong and smart and confident. Her body responds when she wants it to do something - like jog up the stairs on the way to Zumba or finish that last vinyasa in Yoga X. Sore muscles? No problem. She'll just work through them.

And now that she's peeking through and speaking up more often, I'm all the more eager to meet her. How I wish I could just unzip the fat suit over her so she could step out right now. But then, that would be taking the easy way out and this girl? She doesn't take shortcuts or cheat.

So I'll keep doing what I'm doing and she'll keep on doing what she's doing and before we both know it, the time will be right.

I'm so looking forward to that day.

Oh, and I'm down two more pounds for a total of 12 lbs in three weeks.

To my kids..

2012-01-24T08:49:00.001-06:00

Hey kids, you know all that harping I've been doing lately?

You remember - blah blah blah you are so lucky and don't even know it. Blah blah blah so many other people in the world would love to just have your problems blah blah blah. Blah blah blah so much more fortunate than you even realize. Blah blah blabbity blabbity blab....roof over your heads, heat to keep you warm, air conditioning to keep you cool, food in your belly, clothes on your back, shoes on your feet, a doctor if you're sick...yada yada yada. Why don't your understand that YOU ARE SO LUCKY!

Here's a much more concise way to explain it.

My hope for both of you is that you'll never have to pray to have a life like the one you have now, and that one day you'll learn to appreciate how blessed you truly are.

Thankful Sunday

2012-01-22T21:56:00.001-06:00

Today it hit me again how lucky I am. What better day to mention it than on a Sunday?

Thanks to my kids for sleeping until after 8 and then waking up in a good mood

Thanks to Tylenol for making pain relievers

Thanks to the YMCA for rescheduling Sunday Zumba so I could get my exercise on

Thanks to Tascha for going with me

Thanks to Paul for watching the kids while we went

Thanks to Samantha for saving us a place in class

Thanks to Ally and Ry for playing with my kids and saving them from the boredom of a day with just me

Thanks to Joanne and her family for being such great neighbors

Thanks to Facebook for letting me stay in touch with so many people in one convenient place

Thanks to Becky for being such a sweetheart

Thanks to Robert for being Robert

Thanks for hot showers, warm blankets and sweet good night kisses from the kids.

Thanks for warmer weather today, a roof over our head, and food in our bellies.

Thanks for life. Even when it's messy and stressful and overwhelming.

...and now for the update...

2012-01-19T23:05:00.001-06:00

I keep thinking I need to start out posts like this with, "I really love my kids" but the truth is, that's obvious or else I would be batshit crazy by now.

Oh, wait...

Anyway.

This morning, I had to wake Tucker up for school. It's been a hectic week. Lots of stuff going on, and the sad thing is I've cut way back on stuff I used to do. Sara had climbed into my bed sometime around 3 this morning and I let her because she went right back to sleep and she did it quietly and all by herself. When she was still sleeping soundly at 7:25, I walked outside with Tucker and watched him go to the bus stop. My neighbor was there with her kids and I'm fine letting him walk solo if there's an adult there I know. Some of the older kids can be...well...that's a post for another day.

After Tucker gets on the bus I come back in...Sara is still asleep. Awesome. I put in my Yoga X dvd to get my workout started because it's over an hour and a half. And it's difficult. Sara wakes up and comes downstairs right as I'm finishing up. She's well rested and in a good mood.

Can I get a hallelujah?

Hallelujah!!!!!

I give her my full attention all morning. Life is happy and calm. It's cruel too, because on days like this that I see just how nice it can be, it makes bearing the days that are not as nice more difficult.

I'm hoping as I go to meet her bus that she'll still be in a good mood when she gets off. By some miracle, she is.

Could it be? Could it be there there's going to be an entire day without tantrums? Could it? Truly?

We come inside and she immediately asks me if she can have an Oreo. I didn't give her any after lunch today because 1) I didn't think about it and 2) she didn't ask.

So sure, an Oreo or two is okay. She even offers to take Tucker some. Ummmmm, am I even in the right house? Perhaps it's a parallel universe or opposites day. But she takes him two cookies and then asks for more when she finishes her two. I say no.

::end of peaceful and tantrum free day::

I want to tell her it's just an Oreo and not the end of the world. But there's no way she could hear me over all the wailing.

Seriously.

And once the floodgates were opened it was business as usual at Casa Dahl.

And by that I mean that Sara had an issue with any thing we said or did.

Tucker asked to attend Skate Night tonight for his school and he's been so good that I really wanted to be able to take him.

In between fits, we learn that Sara does not want to go to Skate Night, or the gym for Zumba, or anywhere else we want to go, or do anything we want to do.

Which is actually pretty typical and why, an hour later, we'd been to the commissary for bread and chips, the library to return books, the bank to deposit a check, and were now pulling into the skating rink parking lot.

Fits be damned!

That, and once she saw where we were, she was all excited because she'd been here before.

I had asked her no less than three times if she wanted to skate. No, no, no. I asked again as I paid. No. Okay then. We went to get the rental skates and she suddenly wanted to skate.

Of course.

I pointed out that she had said she did not want to skate at least three times.

Cue tantrums. Tantrum over not getting to skate. Tantrum over needing to go to the bathroom. Tantrum over not being able to sit on the side of the skating rink. Tantrum over my insisting that she put on her shoes to go to the bathroom. Tantrum over my telling her that if she peed in her pants out of sheer spite (as she threatened) she'd spend the rest of the evening in pee clothes.

No fewer than 20 people tried to help 'cheer' Sara up. It couldn't be done.

I'm exhausted.

Not just from tonight, but from the overwhelming constant worry that I am messing up BIG time as a parent. I am frustrated that my kids lead such a privileged life and yet they have no idea how fortunate they are. I have no idea how to get this message across effectively. Take everything away? Figure out a way for all of us to volunteer so that they get an idea that their lifestyle isn't shared by everyone?

I don't know.

I asked Tucker tonight what I could do to be a better Mom.

His reply? "Get skinnier."

Ouch.

Maybe Sara's fits aren't so bad after all.

Breaking News: Sara's attitude reaches unheard of heights

2012-01-19T17:06:00.001-06:00

Stay tuned for the full story at 11.

Motivation Monday - BOOYA Plateau!

2012-01-16T22:47:00.000-06:00

How's THIS for motivation?

On January 2, I started a fitness challenge. I'm doing P90X, following a basic TeamBeachBody nutrition guideline, using Shakeology and going to Zumba three times a week.

Week one: way sore, only lost two pounds. This brought me to the weight number I have been battling against for the last year and a half. Maybe I've lost inches. ::crosses fingers:: Nope.

So I have a choice - leap of faith, trust the plan, stay on my current path or give up and be at this same weight this time next year (or heaven forbid even heavier). Yeah. that made it easier.

Week two. Last Thursday, I had a doctor's appointment. One where I knew I'd have to be weighed. Five weeks prior was my last appointment and the doctor mentioned that I'd gained a few pounds. And um, yeah, it was before the holidays so I can't blame Christmas or New Year's.

I hadn't weighed since that Monday so I really had no idea what my number would be and I was determined not to be stressed about it. It is what it is, and even if I haven't lost any more than the two pounds from Monday, at least it was two pounds down.

So I hop on the scale and move the weight to where I thought it should be. Too heavy? Sa-weet! Slide it down, slide it down, slide it down. Five pounds down. By the doctor's record, I've lost 13 pounds in five weeks. And today when I weighed in, I was hoping that my scale - which tends to weigh me a couple pounds heavier than the doctor's scale - reflected that same number.

Well, it didn't.

It was two pounds LESS.

::sprinkler:: ::running man:: ::MC Hammer U Can't Touch This::

Should I dare take measurements? Romi used to weigh and measure me every two weeks when I was working with her. I had a general idea of what my measurements were (mostly my waist measurement), so imagine my surprise when I had lost inches in my chest, waist, hips, thighs (TWO inches in EACH thigh, thankyouverymuch), biceps and calves. 9 inches in total. Ten pounds in total. In two weeks.

Yeah, I'll take that. I'll take that all day long. Good bye plateau. I will not miss you. Buh bye!

All pumped up that I now weigh right around what I did on my wedding day - ten years ago - I headed to the gym to do the chest and back workout.

Woooooooooweeeeee! What a struggle I had today. Everything felt so hard, but I looked back at my records and I'm steadily improving. And the sweat was actually rolling off me. Attractive.

I went to Zumba this afternoon and was drenched in sweat after that class too. But I loved it. Tomorrow is freakin' Plyo. I do not love plyo, but I'm determined to master it.

Can't wait to see what next Monday brings.

Family First

2012-01-15T21:58:00.000-06:00

The kids and I have settled into a pretty good routine. They are dealing pretty well with Robert being away for the most part and we are doing our best to stay busy.

Gotta tell you, it's a lot easier than it was last time.

So anyway, I've been weaning myself from spending so much time on the computer.

When the kids were really little, there were times when my magical electronic gizmo (aka my laptop) represented the only adult interaction I'd get. It kept me sane. And no, I'm not kidding. And yes, that's a little sad.

But now the kids are older and I have worked really hard at making real life connections. I don't want to hide behind my computer screen and live life vicariously through anyone or anything else. There's too much out there to see and enjoy and learn. And the less time I spend online, the more time I can spend moving around and hopefully the less my ass will spread and the smaller my pants size will be.

On that note, I'm still going to blog and check email and ~~spy on~~ keep in touch with everyone on Facebook. I mean, come on... I love you guys. But I love my family more. And right now that's where I need and want to be.

Garbage. And no, not the band.

2012-01-11T23:12:00.001-06:00

Today will be a week that Robert has been gone. Feels like a month.

In his absence I get to be in charge of trash, because it just doesn't seem right to have a seven year old or a four year old hauling a big trash bin or a huge bag (or bags) of recycle to the curb or through the neighborhood to the recycling center. And when I say recycling center, I really mean dumpsters.

So on Monday, after our prompt and efficient garbage men toured la neighborhood, I thought - why not make a clean sweep (<---- see what I did there? Heh!) of it and take the recycling. I've been, um, organizing some things and we had some boxes and other recycle-able things in our utility room. I loaded up my car and headed to recycle city, where apparently, a nuclear test site has been relocated.

Frankly, it looked like a construction dumpster (or six) threw up. Boxes, furniture, and garbage were everywhere. There was a small path to one dumpster but the other three were completely inaccessible.

Sadly, it was even worse than this. Good grief.

Photo credit: http://johannburkard.de/blog/programming/java/garbage-collector-pitfalls.html

We live in senior enlisted and junior officer housing. It's less than three years old, for crying out loud. It was so disappointing to see all the trash just chucked out like it was a city landfill.

Well, I'm always up for a little extra cardio, so I got to work with the intention of simply making all the dumpsters accessible. To my surprise, I discovered that the other three dumpsters were empty. I have to say it, I live in a neighborhood with some sorry, lazy, nasty people.

To further prove my point - as I was attempting damage control, two cars pull up to unload their recycling. Big, burly he men were driving these vehicles. Did they offer to help? No they did not. One of them was going to put his bags on the ground beside one of the dumpsters until I gave him the 'Mom glare'.

Never underestimate the power of the 'Mom glare'.

About 40 minutes into my cleanup efforts, a truck from housing pulls up and one of the maintenance guys gets out and starts to clean up too. He told me that the dumpsters in the other housing area are way worse than ours. That? That is very, very sad.

Motivation Monday

2012-01-09T22:31:00.002-06:00

As part of my January fitness challenge, I weighed in this morning.

Down two pounds. I'll take it! It's not a Biggest Loser kind of number, but hey - two pounds is nothing to sneeze at. I'm trying really hard not to focus on the numbers because that ALWAYS derails me. I could write posts after post about it. Sigh. Actually, I think I have already. A-hem.

Anyway! Moving on. Where was I? Two pounds, yay me.

P90X. Let's do some talking about P90X, shall we? I've dabbled in P90X off and on for over a year. I've done all the weight routines many, many times, but I've had very limited experience with the dedicated cardio. I call it dedicated cardio because in all honesty, if you are doing P90X correctly it's all pretty intense cardio - even the Yoga....err...excuse me..Yoga X. Or as Tony would say, Yoga X, brother.

Tony and I are having a bit of a love hate relationship these days. I love him, my muscles pretty much hate him.

Why is that, you may be wondering?

I'd be delighted to tell you. Push ups. Pull ups. Squats. Lunges. Jumping. Oh how I hate, hate, hate the jumping. Especially when squats and lunges are combined with jumping. Plyo is the devil. The devil that's an hour long. Jumping jacks. Whom ever thought up jumping jacks should have been shot. In the foot.

Seriously though, it's been a week. I lived past the first full week. WOOT! On Thursday, I was so sore I wanted to cry when ever I tried to stand or sit or breathe.

BUT! Today? I was looking forward to the workout. Have I improved in a week? I certainly feel stronger. And six or seven people have told me I looked thinner or smaller in the last week. God Bless all of you, by the way. You made my middle aged self so happy!

Oh - and here's my official "before" picture. We took it New Year's Eve. When I saw it, I wanted to cry. I thought I was further along than this. I guess that just means there's more room for progress, right?

Shame on me

2012-01-08T22:43:00.000-06:00

I'm ashamed of myself for thinking (much less writing) what I'm about to, but I'm doing it anyway. Shame on me.

It's judgmental and bitchy, but I simply cannot restrain myself for some reason tonight. Double shame on me.

I follow a decent amount of blogs. There are some really talented writers out there - way, way more talented than I am. And after reading about their lives for weeks, months, even years, I feel like I know them. I realize I don't - not really - but I care about what happens to them. Which, in a way, makes what I'm about to say even worse.

I just read most of a blog entry from someone that I have never met personally nor carried on a personal conversation. She wrote, reaching out to the blog world (and beyond, I'm sure) to share her troubles. And they were real and familiar. A death in the family, a fight with another family member, financial troubles, stress and worry about being a good parent and provider. My heart goes out to her.I've been there. It's no fun. Any one of those would be difficult to deal with, but all at once? Yikes!

But as I scrolled down her blog entry, there were all these pictures posted of her happy and smiling- posing happily for the camera. No sad eyes, no tear stains, no furrowed brow...just a lady who looks like her life is hunky dory. And I found myself thinking - WTH? Why are these pictures all over your blog entry when your words so convincingly contradict them? Which is it? If you're being paid to wear the outfit you're in, why not put the pictures in a different post? Why invalidate all that work and emotion because you're wearing a cute pair of boots and you're having a good hair day? And also? SPELL-CHECK. I'm pretty sure your computer has it in some form or another. Even Blogger has a spell-check built in.

Shame on me. That's an awful thing to think, much less admit - and then, god forbid, blog about. But I'm sick of insincerity, double standards, pity parties, and other such nonsense. Is it for the attention? Did I miss a memo?

I feel like I'm having a Carrie Bradshaw moment here - In this era of social network over sharing, when does over sharing result in under caring?

And, like I said, shame on me.

A Pretty Perfect Day

2012-01-07T23:36:00.001-06:00

As deployments go, this one is going pretty well so far.

Knock on wood, plastic, laminate, whatever it takes. I'm sure at some point I'll get hit with the deployment curse, but until it happens, there's no need to worry about it.

The hardest part of deployments for me are weekends. During the week it's somehow easier to stay busy. On the weekends, there's just too much...time. The house seems so much emptier without Robert. This time I'm trying to keep us busy on the weekends too.

Today we had a baby shower for our former babysitter and it was Parent's Night Out at the Y. By the time I got up, gave the kids breakfast, worked out, showered and gave the kids lunch, it was time to leave to go to the baby shower. From the baby shower, we headed straight for Parent's Night Out. After dropping the kids off, I rented a movie, grabbed some dinner, and spent a very pleasant evening in my still clean house.

If the rest of the deployment goes this well, it's going to fly by! (Crossing fingers and knocking on wood.)

Shower pictures (because you don't need or want to see pictures of me watching a movie and drinking a fruit smoothie):

My newest favorite cake

2012-01-06T22:20:00.000-06:00

I made a diaper cake!

I was trying to explain to the kids what a diaper cake is, but Sara heard diaper and cake and decided to be convinced I was going to try and get her eat diapers.

As if.

There were some technical difficulties. The first layer I put together a little differently than the top layers so the diapers kept coming unrolled and popping off the ribbon. I was one breakout free from stapling it all together.

Fortunately, it seems to be holding together now.

Just Roll With It

2012-01-05T23:57:00.001-06:00

A few days ago, I walked into the bathroom and noticed half a roll of toilet paper in the trash.

Hmm.......

Sara has been here.

I'm not sure what makes her take a roll of toilet paper with plenty of life left and replace it with a new one.

I mean, I'm grateful for the effort, just not sure I understand why she's doing it.

And when I ask her, she just laughs.

Gotta be honest, that worries me a little.

It's Zumba class sweetie, not Showgirls.

2012-01-03T22:47:00.000-06:00

First let me say that I personally do not know any one that I'm fixin' to talk about in this post. If by the off chance one of said people stumbles across this blog entry and figures out who I am and who they are, I apologize if I hurt your feelings but I'm just calling it like I see it.

With that said: OMG OMG OMG!!!!!

I was about five minutes late to Zumba tonight because it took me 15 minutes instead of the normal 10 minutes to sign the kids up for Parent's Night Out. But that's another story entirely and I don't want to lose focus.

So, I jogged up the stairs and trotted to the aerobics room. The parking lot had been so full that I was surprised to see room in class. But who am I to look a gift horse in the mouth? Normally I get my groove going on the right side of the room somewhere in the middle-ish. But a bunch of others were already there, so I stood in the middle of the room but on the back row.

The first thing I noticed was a really, really energetic girl on the front row bouncing around like we were in a reduced gravity situation. Moon boots? Springs on shoes? Nope, nothing I could see. Maybe just a Red Bull or two and a pack of M&M's.... Possibly some Meth, but that's a little judge-y. I shall call her Tiggerette.

The second thing I noticed was the girl behind Tiggerette. Whoa! That's some tan there blondie. I hope it's mystic or you are going to look like Donatella Versace by the time you're 30. Also? Those shorts are really, really short. Which normally wouldn't have even gotten my attention but she was about 3 inches away from doing the splits. Which normally would impress me since even at my most flexible, I've never been able to do a split. But I noticed because we were in the middle of a routine that had nothing to do with splits. Also? This is not So You Think You Can Dance? or Fame or an MTV reality series audition. So what the heck are you doing?! You're going to trip and potentially maim one of of the more mature white people. Maybe even cause the breakage of a hip! I shall call her....Bootylicious.

Class continues and I am amused by Tiggerette and Bootylicious. They are cute as can be and really good dancers, but I can't get over their improv, hair whipping (Willow Smith would be proud!), and whatever that thing was they were doing with their asses. There's no real way I can describe it effectively, but let me just sum it up by saying it reminded me of a cross between a stripper pole demo (minus the pole) and a re-enactment from the movie Showgirls. Ummhmmm. It was like that. And they kept hugging. Ooooo-kay, then.

And then I noticed this poor little guy to the left of me. He was getting frustrated about 15 minutes into class and as I was sending him mental Kudos for sticking it out, I noticed Bootylicious was....um....focusing?!?!? on him in between songs.

Interesting. She was shaking her boobs and ass in his general direction throughout class and about halfway through the class, he started rolling his eyes at her. Awww...it's the mating ritual of the American teenager! Man, has THAT changed since I was that age.

I don't really think I get it. Aren't they supposed to be texting and Skyping? Why Zumba class? Does she want him to be her dance partner or something? Inquiring minds want to know! 45 minutes into class, Booty takes down her hair and she, Tiggerette, and a third friend I hadn't really noticed before now start flipping their hair around. Which I found absolutely hilarious because that takes a deeper level of dedication than I'm apparently capable of. I just want to get through Zumba while doing the steps as correctly as possible and burning the maximum number of calories possible. It never occurred to me to use it as a dating tool.

Obviously, I'm totally out of touch with teenagers these days.

Obviously.

Motivation Monday - the P90X edition

2012-01-03T00:23:00.000-06:00

I missed last Monday because we were traveling and I hadn't worked out, like, at all. But I knew it was coming so I tried really hard not to be cranky about it. I think I did okay, but only Robert and the kids know for sure and they're all asleep right now.

So today I'm happy to report that I got my slacker butt back into the Y. I've started a fitness challenge with one of my former managers, and my program of choice is P90X.

Yesterday I finally got around to doing the fit test which consisted of push ups, bicep curls, vertical jump, pull ups, in and out sit ups, and two agonizing minutes of jumping jacks. Oh, and wall squats. You are supposed to be able to pass this test before starting P90X. I surpassed the minimum requirements in everything but the jumping jacks and pull ups. I switched to running in place about 45 seconds in, but switched back for the last 30 second jumping jack sprint. I had no way to do pull ups here, but I know I can't do one without out a little help. So there's tons of opportunity for improvement. I hadn't done push ups or pull ups in months. Can't really say that I missed them.

Which leads me into my workout for today. Chest, back, and abs. Guess what that consisted of? Push ups and pull ups, mostly. Tony Horton is the devil. The devil I tell you.

I had planned to go to Zumba this afternoon, but I didn't make it. I need to be able to walk around tomorrow since Robert's going back to work and I've got to do plyo.

But I've gotta say - it felt GOOD to be back in the gym. Crap. I've turned into one of those people that likes to work out.

Happy New Year

2012-01-01T23:58:00.001-06:00

It's 2012.

Holy passing time, Batman.

At some point in my 20's, I was celebrating New Year's and someone told me (my apologies that I can't remember exactly who, but I was over 21 and it was New Year's so a bit o'alcohol was involved) that whatever you were doing at midnight on New Year's would be the thing you were doing for the rest of the year.

So far I have not found that to be true. Maybe that's why I can't remember who told me that. Cause, you know, even though I was talking to them that New Year's, I haven't been talking to them since.

This year, we got together with some friends and actually made it until midnight, kids included. It was nice. Low key, relaxing, good family time. And I know that it is doubtful that our year will continue in that pattern. Robert's deploying and in my experience, that's not exactly a relaxing thing. I'm already gritting my teeth in preparation for the deployment fall out.

Last time, the kids and I both got sick right after he left which led to my appointment with one of the biggest a-holes on the planet, I had to take Tucker to a pediatric neurology appointment in Ramstein that did not go well on any level, Tucker slammed his finger in the bathroom door and had to have his finger surgically put back together, and I gained like 30 pounds. Fun!

But all that's in the past. I'm sure there are going to be...complications....with this deployment too. But whatever it is, we'll get through it. By the time the kids get out of school for the summer, the deployment will almost be over. Much better than being stuck in a third floor apartment with two kids under 4. In a foreign country. And very few friends. And horrible neighbors.

Happy New Year, people!

Lots of stuff, but more importantly...cake. And pictures of cake.

2011-12-30T23:21:00.001-06:00

I got stuff done today. Hooray!

Robert and I moved some extra dressers downstairs and sold them on a yard sale website. So that helps with de-cluttering. I actually went through most of the paperwork downstairs and sorted it. Don't tell Robert, but I actually filed some as well. Go me!

I went to the commissary, got some cleaning done, went to a good bye lunch for one of my favorite YMCA workers, then came home and baked Robert's birthday cake. Since he won't be here for his birthday, we celebrated early. I got to use my new Pampered Chef pans (sooooo awesome) and cranked out a red velvet cake and some killer cream cheese icing.

What's that? You'd like to see pictures as proof? I'd be delighted to share!

Love this picture. The kids could hardly stand it.

Last year for Robert's birthday celebration, we all ended up with the stomach flu, which is why Robert wanted red velvet instead of his normal chocolate. Works for me!

So we had a yummy dinner of lean steak cooked to perfection on the grill, veggies, and red velvet cake. Not too shabby.

Six more months of this (productivity, not red velvet cake) and I may actually be ahead of the game.

Hey, it could happen.

The day of nothing.

2011-12-30T00:02:00.002-06:00

Today? We really did nothing. I think it was mostly because we were all tired of being in a car and possibly we were even tired of being together in close quarters.

The kids have been delighted to play with all the toys they got for Christmas and Robert and I have been delighted to let and watch them.

Now that the year is ending, I realize that my New Year's resolution needs some re-visiting. Over the last year, we made serious progress with our de-cluttering. Unfortunately, it (and by 'it' I mean crap) comes in faster than we can process it.

Well, okay, that's not entirely true. I hate to file, so that's piled up. I'm making memory books for the kids with their school work. I kinda sorta failed on the baby book thing, so I'm trying to keep some work from each school year for them so they'll have something to look through when they're older. At least, that's my current attempted project. But for every piece of paper I keep, I need to get rid of about 20. Add Sara's tendency to be a pack rat and the tendency of all of us to just pile stuff up where ever, the house is looking pretty cluttered again, although all the closets have been cleaned out and look pretty darn awesome.

I'm going to get this all done. If it's to the point that it's irritating Robert, then it's absolutely time to start sorting and streamlining.

So I'm all over this.

Starting tomorrow.

Because today? Is the day of nothing.

Elf on a shelf? Psh! Santa on a stand!

2011-12-28T21:53:00.002-06:00

We made it home safely. How we got everything in the car is still pretty doggone amazing. Because, believe you me, there was a lot of stuff to be packed.

One of the things I was really hoping to bring back with us was a Santa I made back in 2005. My cousin Debbie is wicked talented and crafty and went through a phase where she was making Santas. When I say making, I mean sculpting their faces out of clay and building them from the ground up. My cousin Marci and I ~~begged relentlessly~~ convinced her to help us make one and she finally gave in.

Here were our results (with more than just a little help from Debbie):

Somehow, someway, we made room for my Santa in the car. Even though we are taking down all our Christmas decorations, I think I'll leave Santa out for a while. He's spent too much time in a closet since 2005!

It's Christmas Eve!

2011-12-24T22:21:00.000-06:00

Tonight Robert, the kids, and I went to our family Christmas Eve gathering.

It hit me tonight how much smaller my side of the family has gotten. My grandfather was one of 13, so holiday events were always crowded. Tonight there was room to spare, but no less love.

I wish all of you a wonderful, joyous Christmas filled with love, laughter, and happiness.

Twas the night before the night before Christmas

2011-12-23T20:20:00.002-06:00

Traveling makes me tired. So does going to bed late and then getting up early. Yeah, yeah, I'm a wuss. I'm okay with that.

After getting up early to go and have my hair done, Robert picked me up and we went to get the kids from Mom's house. Then it was off to the grocery store, the assisted living place to drop something off for my grandmother, and then to the Fansler's who are friends of mine from high school.

My plan was to make red velvet cupcakes using MaryBeth's mixer. I'm a mixer miser. Muaahahaaaa.

In between lots of talking, a quick tour of the updates they'd made to their house, and watching their son Josh complete an amazing cake he was making for their Christmas celebration, I somehow got the cupcakes made in between munching on homemade Chex mix (so much better than the store bought kind) and losing count of what I was measuring. No matter, the cupcakes turned out amazingly well and it was quite flattering to see kids converge out of nowhere to try them (and also to have improved an opinion or two about red velvet cake).

After we finished and cleaned up, we just sat around talking and looking through yearbooks. Reading what I wrote in Donovan's yearbooks was both hilarious and embarrassing. Good to see I had a lock on saying a lot without actually saying anything that early. Also? I do not - at all - miss high school. Nope, nope, nope, nope, nope. But I do miss good friends, just like these...

Oh yes you DO need color!

2011-12-22T23:39:00.001-06:00

Whenever I'm in town, I try my very best to see my former hair dude.

This is the guy that cut my hair short (when I was convinced I'd look awful with short hair) and made it work.

This is the guy that convinced me to color my hair a deep reddish brown (when I swore I'd never voluntarily color my hair any version of red) and love it.

This is the guy that can get my thinning, fine hair to look ten times it's volume.

This is the guy that will fit me in when I'm in town, has fixed my hair from some pretty serious disasters (South Dakota mullet maker I'm talking to YOU), and always told it to me straight.

For example on my first visit to him he said, "Babe! This (with a grand gesture to my hair) is terrible! Never, ever perm your hair again. Never." And I haven't, but I'm not sure if it's because he said so or because that perm was so hideous I'd pretty much already decided not to get another one. Evah.

In short, he's a total rock star and other than Jennifer Temple (who I cannot ever imagine being pushed out of my all time #1 spot), I've never, ever loved a hair stylist more.

This morning I called him and discovered the announcement on his voice mail that he would be out of town until Monday.

Well, that's not what I wanted to hear. Fudge!

Imagine my surprise when he called back a couple hours later! (Huge!)

Me: Hello?
W: BROOOOOOOKE DAHL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It's Wayne, baby.
Me: Wayne! What are doing calling me back before Monday?
W: I'm working my ass off. Are you here?
Me: Yep. I thought you were out of town.
W: Not me, I'm working like crazy until Friday.
Me: Sweet!
W: You need to see me?
Me: Uh, yes. Yes I do!
W: What do you need?
Me: I really need color, but I'd love color and a cut.
W: When do you want to come in? How long will you be here?
Me: We're leaving Monday.
W: When do you want to come in?
Me: Whatcha got and I'll make it work?
W: Um.....Tomorrow at 3?
Me: YES!
W: See you then!

As I was doing my little happy dance, reality hit - we have plans tomorrow with some friends. I've missed them the last couple times I've been in town, so I really, really am looking forward to seeing them.

Since we were fairly close to his studio anyway, Robert and I just dropped by. I also intended to bribe him with some cookies, cause I'm all smooth like that. I explained that I wasn't thinking in days of the week as in tomorrow is Friday and on Friday I have plans at 3 already.

Instead of kicking my hiney out the door, he looks at me and just rolls his eyes.

W: When ya wanna come in?
Me: When can you fit me in?
W: (walks me over to his receptionist/salon manager) Hey - book her for whenever she can come in. She's been coming to me forever and let's make something work. (Discussion between him and the size zero supermodel that runs his salon ensues about his schedule for the rest of today and tomorrow.)

Me: Well, I don't have to have color, you can just cut it.
W: (laughing loudly) Baby, you NEED color. (to the supermodel) Book her for 8:30 tomorrow. I'll come in early and do her.
Me: Are you sure?
W: Baby, I cannot let you walk around looking like (gesturing at my hair again) that.

No argument here. Look for before and after pics on my blog tomorrow.

Never a dull moment

2011-12-22T22:54:00.000-06:00

The family and I headed out earlier this week to North Carolina. It's quite warm here considering that it's almost the end of December. This time last year it was freezing and over four inches of snow fell at Dad's on Christmas day. Great for photos, not so much for driving.

Today, the kids slept in and hooo boy - we let them! Once we were all awake (and I still say it was our radiating giddiness about their sleeping in that woke them) and ready to go, we headed over to Mom's for most of the day. After lunch, we went to visit my grandmother in her assisted living facility. Tucker and Sara were excited about going, more for the ice cream machine in the parlor (do people even use that word anymore?) than for visiting purposes but hey, it got them there voluntarily and in a good mood.

My grandmother has Alzheimer's so she has good days and bad days. Two things are guaranteed to perk her up - kids and men. And that's really as far into that as I care to delve. So when she saw my kids, she perked up a little but still refused to walk with us from the common room to her room or the parlor. Mom, trying really hard to be patient after repeated attempts to get her to budge, asked one of the nurses to help us convince her to move. I tried first and had no luck. The first nurse tried and had no luck. I tried again. No luck. Richard suggested we walk away for a few minutes and then try again. Works for me. At that point, the second nurse walked over to try and darned if she didn't get right up and come along.

Interesting.

We visited with her for a while and then tried to get her to walk back to the common room with us. She was as reluctant to return as she was to leave. Not willing to push the issue any further, we got ready to leave. I picked up Sara and walked over to say goodbye. I'm not sure what about that got to my grandmother, probably nothing, but she perked right up and wanted to hold Sara.

Sweet, right? But the thing about Sara is that she marches to the beat of her own drummer and at that point, she'd been mostly ignored by my grandmother. Not with any ill intent, but Sara is firmly of the "I will not be ignored" school circa Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction. After trying to get attention and not getting it, she was a bit averse to getting what at that point was unwanted attention. And we all know Sara can be a bit stubborn. ::Snort::

So when my grandmother suggested that Sara sit in her lap, Sara buried her head in my shoulder and tightened her arms and legs around me.

That just made my grandmother repeat her request for Sara to sit in her lap. I tried explaining that Sara was heavier than she looked (which is true). But aside from that, my grandmother doesn't do too much moving around these days and I was worried that Sara sitting on her would hurt her in some way. Plus, Sara just wasn't interested.

We went back and forth for a bit over this - my grandmother would ask to hold Sara, Sara would shake her head no and clutch me tighter, I'd try to explain that we were concerned Sara would be too heavy.

Finally, Grandmother got tired of this and decided she wanted to go to the common room. You know, the one she had just insisted she didn't want to relocate to. So we walked her in and when my grandmother sat down in the common room, she started asking again for Sara to sit on her lap. This time, though, she asked Sara directly. It went a little like this:

G: Come sit in my lap.
S: No. I'll sit right here.
G: Come on and sit in my lap.
S: No. I'm too heavy. I might hurt you.
G: Come sit with me.
S: I'm sitting right here.
G: Come and let me hold you.
S: No thank you.
G: Come and sit in my lap.
S: That's okay.
G: Sit right here, honey. ::pats her legs::
S: ::sighs loudly:: o-kay.
Gets down and climbs up into Grandmother's lap.

5..4..3..2..1..

G: UNH! You weigh a ton!
S: I told you.
G: Oh! My legs!
S hops off and looks at me. Can we go now?
G: (loudly) She's heavy!
S: ::rolls eyes::

So, uh, yeah. Time to go.

Motivation Monday

2011-12-20T01:40:00.003-06:00

The six week Free* program ended yesterday. Thanks to double workouts and some extra volunteering, I was able to reach my 3500 point goal early last week.

It felt pretty darn good.

So what have I learned in the last six weeks? A lot, actually.

It's easy to get bogged down in the details and lose sight of the overall picture. I've switched my focus from numbers on the scale to my actual health - both physical and mental.

I mean, let's be real for a second. I'm going to battle with my weight no matter what the number on the scale reflects. I battle to lose weight, I battle to keep it off. Lots of battles with no end to the war in sight. That's just the way it works for me.

But what I can be, what I am going to be, is healthy. I honestly could care less about the number at the moment. I think that's a pretty good start to the rest of my life and a great ending to Free* because I do, in fact, feel free.

But I realized that I need to keep myself challenged. Starting January 1, I'm entering a fitness challenge through TeamBeachbody.com. I have to submit before pictures and then pictures each 30 days. I can't tell you how excited I am about having to post pictures of myself online. ::eye roll::

With Robert deploying soon, I'm not sure how I'm going to be able to participate in the mini triathlon, but I'm going to keep training for it anyway. Worst case scenario, I'll find someone to time me on the sections when the child care center is open. Robert and I can run it together next year. I really kind of want to wait and do it with him anyway. We'll see.

We ran sprints yesterday. Today, my body thanked me with sore feet and tight leg muscles. It's a little sick to admit this, but I'm loving it. You know what else I'm loving? Being able to go to Zumba six times a week. I'll have to cut the number down next month, but for now I'm living the dream.

What was your favorite workout this week?

Who needs an elf on a shelf when I have so many elf turds?

2011-12-15T23:06:00.001-06:00

Today was one of those days when I would have been better off staying in bed.

Well, if I didn't have kids and two million things to do.

I started baking this morning before 8 am and wow! It did not go well. I have a scoop that I use to make all the cookies the same size. Today, they never melted down, which means that somewhere along the line I put in too much flour. But they look like little elf turds or something. Which should be funny...trays full of elf turds - happy holidays, everyone!...but really was just frustrating and annoying.

I took the brownies out of the oven too early and had to pop them back in for a few minutes, which messes with the texture somehow.

I couldn't find the recipe I had bookmarked for pumpkin muffins when I got ready to make them. (I ended up finding a copy of it, but by then had lost all motivation.)

And can we talk about the tantrums? Oh em gee.

I get that Sara is higher maintenance and needs more attention than Tucker. With Robert deploying soon, it's going to be an adjustment. I've already backed way, way off on my volunteer stuff. I don't want them to ever think I'm not available for them - whether Robert is here or not.

But the resident diva? She's having a really hard time with the upcoming deployment. Unfortunately, she's showing it by frequent meltdowns and tears and an attitude that would make Mariah Carey go, "whoa!". And I'm just tired of dealing with it. So this afternoon, when I got smacked in the head with something (still not clear on what it was) hard enough that I saw spots, I needed a break.

Fortunately, Robert was home from work so I had the luxury of going into our bedroom and crawling back into bed for about an hour.

It wasn't enough time, but I sucked it up and made it through the rest of the evening anyway despite the complaints about dinner (Tucker basically said I needed to manage my time better..LOL!), the synchronized meltdowns over not getting to eat unlimited ~~elf turds~~, cookie samples, and the HORROR of having to brush their teeth with....toothpaste.

I can't make this stuff up.

Elf turd and milk, anyone?

Strong arm-ing it.

2011-12-14T00:17:00.000-06:00

In high school I dated a guy who constantly made me laugh (and roll my eyes) when he would tell me what diseases he picked up during the course of the day. (He never did.) And I seriously doubt you can get hepatitis from having a drop of water splash up into your face when you wash your hands after going to the bathroom at school, even if you cut yourself shaving that morning. Unless, of course, you washed your hands in a vat of hepatitis, which I don't even think is possible.

After we parted ways, we stayed friends for a pretty good while. I knew he had met the girl of his dreams when she turned out to have the same "I have (insert disease here), wanna know why?" affliction that he did.

I never really understood that until I had my first health scare earlier this year. Since then, every once in a while, I worry about what may be.

My most recent bout with the "I may haves" is a concern over a pain in my neckshoulder area. I'm fairly sure it's a combination of a crick in my neck, an over-enthusiastic free weights workout, and the fact that I'm a little stressed right now. Oh, and a routine or two in Zumba that is apparently supposed to make your arms fall off.

But every now and then I wonder if its a blood clot or a torn muscle or an artery about to burst open. You know, shiny happy thoughts.

Which it isn't, of course. But I think for a while at least I'm going to stop looking things up on WebMD. And maybe skipping the arm routine in Zumba.

Motivation Monday - Free* Week 6, Day 1

2011-12-12T10:36:00.000-06:00

This is the last week of the Free* program at the Y. I'll make my 3500 point goal around Friday, I hope.

I can honestly say motivation is mostly back. I think I'll back down my exercise to a hour or two a day versus my 2 and 3 hour sessions. I'm a little tired.

I'm disappointed that I haven't lost more weight, but my clothes are all looser, so I'm okay with that. Progress is progress and I'll take it in just about any form.

We'll be traveling next week and over Christmas. It's nice to know that I have a bit of a break in between the Free* program and the fitness challenge I've committed to begin on January 1. I'm going to do my best to workout every day when we are on the road, but I'm not going to stress if I can't or don't feel like it. In all honesty, it probably wouldn't hurt to take three or four days off.

I've strained a muscle in my neck/shoulder and I'm hoping that some rest and relaxation next week will help that out too. I can't even type that without laughing....not sure how much relaxing is even possible since we'll be running around like crazy people.

So! For the January fitness challenge I've teamed up with the incredible Vicky Denny, and I am excited to start kicking some fitness butt and to get a chance to win money while in doing it. If you are interested in this program for your own weight loss/fitness goals or just to follow my progress, go to www.beachbody.com and look up Vicky, who is a coach. Consider joining her team. There are free and paid programs. (With the paid programs you at least get a fitness video series of your choice - P90X? Slim in 6? Hip Hop Abs? Alllllll there!) There are five or six of us at the moment who are going to be doing this together. Join in officially if you like or create your own program and do it at home. Please consider posting your updates in the comments section of the Motivation Monday posts. I'd love to be able to cheer you on! And hopefully give out some prizes or something.

Have a great Monday everyone! Get out there and be healthy!

Bring out your dead...

2011-12-11T00:29:00.001-06:00

You know what would be just awesome to watch tonight? Monty Python and the Holy Grail.

As a matter of fact, I'm going to go see if it's on iTunes right now.

I was gonna do a bunch of stuff, but I got high...

2011-12-06T20:11:00.001-06:00

Now wait a second....it's not what you think.

Getting out of the shower this morning, I was hit with a sudden, staggering, overwhelming pain in my chest.

That can't be good.

I tried to remain calm, breathe deeply, and objectively assess the situation.

I needed to get Tucker off to school, I was supposed to attend a board meeting first thing, and my list grew from there. But it hurt, especially when I would breathe, and when I took my blood pressure it was higher than it should have been. My heart rate was strong and regular, which was good, but still...

I ended up calling Robert and asking him to come home and drive me to the ER. Tucker was able to go to a neighbors house until it was time to catch the bus and Sara came with us.

We got to the ER and they took me back immediately. My EKG's were normal so they moved me into a room and continued to try and figure out what was going on.

But the pain...oh my goodness! The pain. It would not go away, it would not ease up, and on top of that, my head started to pound which just made everything worse.

The nurse put in an IV, took a bunch of blood, and dosed me with some sort of pain killer and an anti-nausea medication. I also had to chew two baby aspirin which tasted absolutely no better that I remembered from my childhood. You'd think with all the improvements in medicine and technology that baby aspirin would taste better by now..especially since you aren't allowed to actually give aspirin to babies anymore.

I don't know if I was unknowingly participating in some sort of medication study in which some patients receive a placebo, but whatever pain medication she gave me didn't do a thing for my pain level. If anything, it got worse. After about an hour, the nurse gave me a Vicodin pill.

When that didn't help, they nurse finally gave me a shot of something. I think she said it was dolophine. But I don't really remember because about two seconds after she pushed that plunger into my IV, I was floating. I was flying. I was...high. And I mean, never having been a drug user, I never understood what people were talking about when they talked about the rush.

I get it now.

I had to get a chest x-ray almost immediately after getting ~~high~~ the dolophine, so all I remember is the pain easing up significantly by the time Walter wheeled me into the x-ray room about 45 seconds later.

It took all my restraint not to shout WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! as Walter, the x-ray guy, rolled me back to the room.

And let me just tell you, it was fun to color when I was high. Even with Sara, who is notoriously controlling and obnoxious about sharing crayons.

About 30 minutes later, the doctor came in and said that by process of elimination the problem was most likely that the the lining of my lungs was swollen and/or inflamed and causing the pain.According to Dr. G, my lungs were clear on the x-ray and my heart health was excellent. I was sent home with an anti-inflammatory to take for three days and a prescription for Vicodin that was so strong that the base pharmacy doesn't even stock it.

I have a follow up with my cardiologist on Thursday and until then I can't do anything strenuous. Which sucks because I missed Zumba tonight.

But I'm going to bed early....because I got high.

Motivation Monday - Free* Week 5, Day 1

2011-12-05T23:10:00.001-06:00

Heeeeeeey! Hoooooooooooo! It's Monday again.

I worked out six days last week, most days I worked out twice a day. I went to five Zumba classes and honestly? I've never been happier or felt more fit. And that's saying a lot because parts of last week were really crappy.

I jogged up three flights of stairs to an appointment last Monday and expected to be out of breath at the top. I was not. I would have jumped up and down for joy, but I wasn't in the sort of place where that would have been the best idea. Inside I was doing the Balkian Dance of Joy, though.

Then, last week a former manager of mine posted on Facebook that she's starting a fitness challenge on January 1st and is looking for five people to join her.

I. am. in!

I am now all registered and ready to go as soon and Robert takes my 'before' pictures. Entering this challenge/contest gives me the chance to win up to $100,000...so I'm going to do everything I can to increase my chances. I also think I will find it easier to stay on track since I'll be accountable to my team.

Even without the fitness challenge, I'm now entering week five of Free*. I've had several people comment that I look smaller. And while that's great, feeling better has been a much better reward. Much, much better. Maybe even better than Cheesecake Factory red velvet cheesecake.

No, not maybe. Definitely. Def-def-def-def-definitely.

It's all about the Kool-Aid.

2011-12-04T16:40:00.001-06:00

Christmas card time, since we've had kids, has traditionally included a photo card. The easy part is sending out the cards. The hard part is getting the kids into cooperative picture mode.

For day-to-day pictures, they are generally pretty cooperative. Of course, with day-to-day pictures I'm not ordering them about like a drill sergeant or being particular on where they stand or what they wear.

For a potential Christmas card picture, sometimes the best way to show off our festive holiday spirit is to declare a tiny little war.

Well, okay, maybe not war...maybe just the smallest, tiniest of standoffs about something random and surprising.

In today's case it was over changing his shirt. When Tucker got dressed this morning (we hadn't sprung the whole picture thing on the kids yet because we decided it really late last night) he put on navy sweatpants, a red Mario Bros. shirt, and a black Wake Forest sweatshirt.

I should have left well enough alone, but noooooooooooo..........

I asked him to change into dark grey pants and a cream colored top. He changed his pants with no problem, but apparently the shirt I asked him to wear was made of bumblebees because he freaked out and refused. Robert was upstairs with him during most of the hoopla, so all I heard was Robert raising his voice, and Tucker's stomping around and yelling, "NO!" and then the crying.

Good Lord, the crying. Sigh.

I hear Robert tell Tucker that he can't be in the picture if he didn't stop it. It, of course, being acting like a maniac about putting on a beige shirt. I stifled a giggle because if Tucker was throwing a fit about changing clothes, the LAST thing he cared about was whether or not he was in the picture.

I finally called upstairs and told Robert it was okay if Tucker didn't want to be in the pictures. No point in forcing the issue when he was so upset. Worst case scenario, I'd just use a picture I already had of Tucker.

Within 20 minutes of Robert, Sara, and I taking pictures, Tucker came thumping down the stairs, intent on being a big ol' spoilsport.

Turns out the entire problem was that he wanted to wear his purple Kool-Aid shirt. In the scheme of things, I could care less what he wears for the most part. If he had said he wanted to wear that particular shirt to begin with, we could have negotiated...most of the pics in his clothing choices and hopefully some of the pics in ours. Not that big of a deal. Instead, there was a whole lot of this:

Some of this:

And finally a wardrobe change and this:

All's well that ends well, right? I'll scan and post the Christmas card I created when we get them.

Good times, people. Good times.

Time's a Wastin'

2011-12-03T23:39:00.001-06:00

Robert got deployment orders about two weeks ago.Time is in a flat out sprint towards d-day and I'm not ready for him to go.

He on the other hand has probably been too busy to think about it too much. Plus dwelling on such things isn't really his style. It's one of the things I admire about him - that ability to just accept and deal with news.

Last week he came home and told me that several people in his area are getting PCS orders for short tours to Korea, and some of them have been here for less time than we've been here.

I have no desire to go to Korea, and even if I wanted to go, we'd have to request an extended tour there which would mean two years instead of one. Worst case scenario, Robert will deploy and then end up in Korea for a year after his deployment ends, which means he'll be gone for close to two years.

Obviously, I'm not a big fan of this possibility. But if it happens, then it happens and we'll make the best of it. I am confident in our marriage and we've been apart for extended periods off and on since we've been together. My main concern is about the kids and how they'll handle it.

We've talked to the kids about it, but Sara is already showing some stress over the changes to come. Between the dependable friends I've made here and the school being very aware and in tune to deployments and associated effects on kids, I know that there will be a lot of support available.

I signed up for this life knowing the possibilities, so I'm actually doing okay with this. Of course it helps me that both kids are older, potty trained, and we live in an English speaking country where I can get to family if I have to.

Therefore, my focus is on the kids. Tucker had a really, really hard time with Robert's last deployment, and while he seems okay so far, Robert's still here and any effect on Tucker won't show up until after he's gone. My plan is to keep the kids (and myself) busy. I'm grateful this is beginning during the school year. I think it would be more difficult in the summer. Hopefully by the time summer rolls around, we'll all be in the groove and the transition will be smooth.

We'll see.

Meanwhile, the click is ticking and I'm trying not to obsess over it.

Photo Friday

2011-12-02T22:55:00.001-06:00

When all else fails, post pictures!

Free* - Week 4, Day 3 (and other stuff)

2011-11-30T21:54:00.001-06:00

My entire body is achy. Given my grueling workouts for the last three or four weeks, I'm not too surprised.

My legs ache. I've developed calluses on the ends of most of my toes, and cracked one of my toenails (no idea how that happened, but man was it painful!). My lower back is a mess. My abs make themselves known whenever I breathe or move.

I love it. Not the pain, but the evidence of my hard work.

I love that my body is responding more quickly now when I want it to do something and that I can see improvement every week in my cardiovascular fitness. My resting pulse rate at the moment is 62. Two months ago it was 85, although some of that was from extremely low iron levels.

Today on the elliptical, I made it 2.5 miles in 21:50. I was thrilled. Then I hit the bike and finished my 10K in 29:02. Then I did 100 sit ups.

A former boss of mine issued a challenge on Facebook to join her on January 1 as part of her team on Beachbody.com. I'm in!

With Robert leaving soon, I want to get it in high gear so that when he comes back, I'll be on the same level of fitness that he is (or at least close) and we can continue to set good examples for the kids and to keep ourselves healthy and happy.

I'm excited to join Vicky's team and to have some excellent support and guidance along the way.

If you'd like more information, let me know. If not, prepare to be wowed by next October because that's when I reveal the new, improved, healthier me. However, and I'm counting on you for this, if I ever say I want to run a marathon, smack some sense into me. Walk a marathon? Sure. But not run. Doctor's orders.

Paper avalanche

2011-11-30T00:10:00.001-06:00

This house?

This house is over run with paperwork. It's astounding.

Between the mail we receive, Sara's coloring habit, and Tucker's bring-a-tree's-worth-of-papers-home-every-day, piles and piles of it stack up. Everywhere.

I try to keep a handle on it, really I do, but some days I just feel buried. Today was one of those days. Yesterday, I did the initial sort - keep versus recycle or shred. Today I re-sorted into more manageable piles and even got some filing done.

Then I came home from volunteering at the Y and then going to Zumba to a kitchen table full of more paper.

It never seems to end. Even though I keep it fairly organized, I feel overwhelmed at times with how much paper we seem to need. Medical records, military records, tax records, school records, bills, bank and credit card statements...even when it's completely organized, it just seems like the papers multiply in the folders when we aren't looking.

If the house ever catches on fire and the room with filing cabinet goes up in flames, the fire department may as well put down the hose, and make some s'mores or something, because that will be pretty doggone close to a lost cause. Or one heck of a weenie roast. Either way.

Motivation Monday - Free* - Week Four, Day 1

2011-11-28T22:17:00.001-06:00

I had another doctor's appointment today and was pleased that my weight over Thanksgiving stayed pretty much the same. I was up less than a pound, and I am absolutely okay with that!

Last week I kicked butt with workouts. My 10K bike time is just under 30 minutes, my 8 lap swim so far is just around 20 minutes. If I were able to use the elliptical instead of the treadmill, I could ring in a 2.5 mile time at around 23:20. On the treadmill, my best 2.5 mile time has been about 43 minutes, but I have until almost the end of February to improve that - and all my times. I can work with that. I'm doing back to back workouts - swim and bike, swim and treadmill, or bike and treadmill. I want to get used to the distances and having to switch between the pool, the bike, and the treadmill.

I'm also diving back into P90X weight lifting. I only have one word for that - ouch! But in a good way.

On top of all that training, I'm doing Zumba as many times a week as I can - averaging about four. I'm not sure I'll be able to continue 7:30 Zumba once Robert deploys, so I want to get in as much of it as possible right now.

I was stressed last week about not getting in enough workout time, but I managed to work out Tuesday, Wednesday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Not bad for a holiday week and a trip out of town over the weekend. I was actually even grumpy on Wednesday thinking I might not get a chance to workout Friday through Sunday, but we made it work.

Which, really, is what you do when something is important enough to you. You make it work.

The one where I remember I have a blog and actually post something

2011-11-27T22:51:00.001-06:00

I hope you had a wonderful Thanksgiving.

Mom and Richard came up from North Carolina. We passed on the cooking this year, the kids don't care too much for the big Thanksgiving feast as of yet and I didn't want to deal with more leftovers than we could eat. So we hauled ourselves to the Club on base.

It was beyond good. The traditional feast foods were there, but there were also lots of healthy choices as well. Sara, who woke up around 4 am throwing up, was okay by the time we ate. She nibbled on some fruit and pasta and was fine afterwards. Robert and I really think she may have a serious case of acid reflux. Getting the doctor to take us seriously is going to be a challenge. But what's new or different about that?

I braved Black Friday by standing outside in some wicked wind in front of Target and managed to get everything I went there for without buying stuff I didn't plan to buy. Kudos to Target for having a sensible plan for dealing with crowd control. I also thanked the employees I saw profusely for working at that unseemly hour. I know it probably didn't help, but I wanted them to know that they were appreciated.

Friday morning, Robert and I took turns working out, then we headed down to Clarksville to see his Mom and Dad. Saturday was an incredibly beautiful day. We took the kids to Chuck E Cheese for a bit and then hung out with Grandma, Grandpa, and Uncle George. The kids behaved for the most part and the we made it back home today in time for me to make Zumba...only Zumba was cancelled. I consoled myself with a jaunt on the infernal treadmill (now walking comfortably at 3.6 mph wooooooooo), shoulder and arms P90X workout, and 100 sit-ups.

Then we put up the Christmas tree. Before we left Germany, we bought a pre-lit tree. I love that tree because I intensely dislike dealing with Christmas lights. When we (and by we I mean Robert since I was upstairs overseeing Sara's bath) put up the tree, the top section of lights wasn't working. Robert, God bless him, tried hard to figure out why those lights weren't working. I offered to take off the lights and wind a new strand around that section of tree.

Guess what? Pre-lit trees have the lights alternately zip tied and clipped to the branches. That was a bit of a bummer to discover. And a challenge to undo. But I eventually prevailed and now our tree is evenly lit and beautiful. The kids did most of the decorating, which was hilarious because, bless their little OCD hearts, they put all the bells on one branch, all the stars on one section, all the Santas in one area...you get the idea. It was pretty awesome, truth be told. We just evened it out a little so the tree wouldn't tip over.

Tomorrow will be the first full week of school for the kids since the beginning of November. Christmas is in less than a month. We've been here for two years now. It's a crazy paced life these days.

What did you do this weekend?

I'm Thankful Anyway

2011-11-24T07:02:00.001-06:00

ANYWAY

People are unreasonable, illogical, and self-centered.
Love them anyway.

If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish ulterior motives.
Be kind anyway.

If you are successful, you will win some false friends and true enemies.
Succeed anyway.

The good you do today will be forgotten tomorrow.
Be good anyway.

Honesty and frankness will make you vulnerable.
Be honest and frank anyway.

What you spend years building may be destroyed overnight.
Build anyway.

People need help but will attack you if you help them.
Help them anyway.

In the final analysis, it is between you and God.
It was never between you and them anyway.

*Kent Keith originated this poem in 1968, and Mother Teresa placed it on her children's home in Calcutta in a slightly different version. As a result, many have attributed it to Mother Teresa.

Sara came into our bedroom around 4 am this morning complaining that her neck hurt. I settled her into bed with us and was drifting off to sleep when I heard it....the cough that I can't describe but know even in a dead sleep means she's going to be throwing up in less than three seconds.

I jump out of bed and fling the covers back and away from both of us. The thing about Sara needing to vomit is that she doesn't care to do it in the bathroom and will fight you when you try to get her anywhere that doesn't have carpet, a bedspread, some other type of absorbent material.

Robert, hearing me jump at the sound of her cough, jumps up too - likely because I've scared him half to death what with the flinging of the blankets and sudden movements. He picks Sara up, carries her into the bathroom where she starts screaming bloody murder, and stays with her while she empties her stomach. The bathroom is barely big enough for the two of them, so I lurk in the doorway trying not to breathe too deeply.

We get her cleaned up, changed, and settled on the floor of our bedroom where she falls asleep almost immediately.

Interestingly enough, if one eats ice cream with blue sprinkles on it at dinner and then succumbs to a stomach virus, everything you throw up will be bright blue.

I'm not cooking Thanksgiving this year, Mom and Richard are here and we are going to the Club for lunch. Since Sara was all in my face yesterday, I'm curious how long it will be before I'm sick and whether or not Robert and Tucker will be sick too.

Do we dare eat at the club knowing that we might all be sick later? Luckily we have a few hours to decide.

Sigh.

But today, especially today, I'm thankful anyway.

My family will be together this Thanksgiving.

For the most part, we are all happy and healthy.

We can decide whether or not we want to make and/or eat Thanksgiving dinner.

Either way, we will have the luxury of full stomachs, clean drinking water, reliable transportation, and the freedom to announce our opinion about any or all of it. We have a roof over our heads, heat or air conditioning at will, beds to sleep in, clothes to wear, shoes for our feet, coats if it's cold, access to health care 24 hours a day.

Thanksgiving or not, there is so much to be thankful for.

Even if there weren't, I could happily be thankful anyway because I am surrounded by people that I love and who love me.

I guess what I really am is thankful and grateful.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Whoops!

2011-11-23T19:45:00.001-06:00

It was a stressful day.

We got off to a late start. The child care room at the Y was packed, so I stayed and helped for a while instead of working out right away. When things calmed down, I went to work out. I had been on the treadmill less than 10 minutes before one of the employees from the child care room came to talk to me.

There was a dispute between Tucker and her son about a DS game. It was a passionate and tearful thing, that dispute, and we still aren't sure which kid the game really belongs to. But we'll figure all that out later. Somehow.

My morning workout and the 11:30 Zumba class I was hoping to make got shelved.

Drat.

Came home, fixed lunch, started on laundry. We create SO much laundry.

Mom and Richard were hanging at our house, then Robert got to come home from work early. (Which was awesome!) I suggested he and I go workout, which was okay with everyone, but I needed to run to the commissary first. I SO did not want to go to the commissary today because it was going to be a madhouse. But we really, really needed milk so off I went.

It was less crowded than I expected. Hooray! I found coupons for lots of the stuff I went there to buy. Double hooray!

I go to the checkout line and handed over my coupons.

And that's where I learned that I apparently cannot read.

The spreadable cheese Mom likes (the kids and I love it too) that had a coupon for $1.00 off? Was for two containers. How many did I pick up? One. Neither me or my thighs wanted two containers of spreadable cheese. Especially since I have that huge box of delicious crackers left over from Tucker's birthday.

The coupon for cream cheese for buy two get one free had me drooling thinking about making pumpkin muffins with cream cheese icing. Except that it was buy two cream cheese and get a COOKING creme free.

Whoops.

Now, had the cashier pointed any of that out before she rang me up - and she could have since I saw her sorting the coupons - I would have turned six shades of embarrassment red, and not purchased the spreadable cheddar or the cream cheese. Normally I would have dashed back to get the correct items and numbers, but it was busy and not fair to make the people in line behind me wait because of my error.

However, the cashier didn't enlighten me on any of this until after she rang me up and was asking for payment. So while I guess I should have asked her to void the items that seemed like good ideas with coupons, I was too frazzled to think that clearly at the time. It didn't really help that she used a tone of voice that suggested that I did this on purpose. Sorry, Grump-a-lina, I'm just in a hurry, not trying to dupe you or steal anything.

Besides, I had all of 19 items total. Five of which were yogurt. If I were trying to get something by her, I sure was being foolish about it.

Know what I mean, Vern?!?

At this point, I just wanted out of there. I swiped my card while apologizing profusely for not reading the coupons more carefully. She just arched an eyebrow and gave me the Cameron Diaz "uh-huh, whatEVER" look. So it wasn't until she was handing me the receipt that I realized I had no cash to tip the bagger.

CRAP CAKES!

I felt horrible, but I wasn't about to take on Grump-a-lina again, nor was I going back through the store and/or line to buy anything else in order to get cash.

I made the best decision I could under the circumstances. I told the bagger I'd take the bags out myself. I mean, she still ended up getting gypped for bagging all 19 items, but at least I didn't make her walk all the way out to the car and THEN not tip her. I even explained that I forgot to get cash back, at which point the cashier snorted and I wished very hard for a black hole to open in the floor and swallow me up.

The bagger was unimpressed and said loudly, "SO YOU WANT ME TO PUT THE BAGS BACK IN YOUR CART SO YOU CAN TAKE THEM OUT YOURSELF?!?"

"Yes, please" was all I could think of to say. And I snagged a few to help her. Then I bolted.

When I got to the car, I started to put the bags in when I noticed for the first time that to only have 19 items, the bagger sure had used a lot of bags. Then I combined the seven bags she thought I needed into three.

Sigh.

I read on CinCHouse a few years ago that the suggested tip for baggers is $1 per bag. I tend to tip a percentage of what I purchase and give a little more if I have bulky stuff or lots of little stuff. Methinks a certain bagger read that little tidbit too and was taking advantage of the situation.

Not my best commissary experience.

I'm on Twitter now, but I don't think that means anything

2011-11-22T07:50:00.001-06:00

I finally signed up for a twitter account.

Finally.

I'm sure I'll grow to love it just like Facebook, but right now that big old "0" under followers is mocking me. I mean, I'm already used to the fact that no one really listens to me. It might help if I didn't talk, blog, or over analyze so doggone much.

But I'm there. If I can get it to work on my phone, which apparently does NOT think I should be twitter-ing, then I'll update way more often than I do now and way more often than I update Facebook because isn't that what Twitter is for?

I'm hoping if I tweet my awesome blog ideas, I'll actually 1) remember them later and write about them and 2) and....I forget the other reason. Yeah. This is going to go well.

A huge bonus? Henry Rollins is on Twitter, but he doesn't seem to tweet much. E Online, on the other hand seems to have a tweet every 30 minutes. C'est la vie, non?

Anywho... please consider following me on Twitter @dailydoseofdahl. And if you can figure out how to convince my phone that I do indeed have a Twitter account, lemme know!

Motivation Monday - Free* - Week 3, Day 1

2011-11-21T23:33:00.001-06:00

Down three more pounds for a total loss of 15!

I am beyond excited!

I worked out six days last week for at least an hour and a half. Went to four Zumba classes as well. I feel better than I've felt in a really long time. I jogged a quarter of a mile on the treadmill three days in a row and was still able to breathe when I slowed down. I'm walking comfortably at a pace of 3.5 mph. I took the fit test on the elliptical and my score was above average. ABOVE AVERAGE people. This time last year, I was thrilled to get a poor because it meant I hadn't failed.

Then Dad told me on Thursday that he's lost 100 pounds. If none of the stuff in the above paragraph motivated me, that excellent news from my dad sure did.

I can do this. I am going to do this. Sunday I started training for the mini triathlon in February. It's an eight lap swim, 2.5 mile run, and a 10K bike ride. My goal for this year is to finish. My goal for next year is to post competitive times with the other participants.

After that, who knows? The sky's the limit!

I'm behind. What else is new?

2011-11-21T23:00:00.001-06:00

So! Thursday was my birthday and it started off really well. Sara came into the bedroom and wished me Happy Birthday first thing that morning. Then she proceed to tell everyone we saw that it was my birthday: the people at the Y, her teacher at the parent teacher conference, the staff at the eye doctor's office...it really was cute.

The deal in our house is that the birthday person gets to choose the kind of cake they want and what they want for dinner. I really wanted Jersey Mike's, but the kids aren't really sub kinds of people. It's more important to me that we spend (hopefully peaceful) time as family over where we eat. So I threw out some suggestions to Robert that the kids just so happened to overhear.

I'm not sure what happened next, exactly, but I can tell you it involved BOTH kids throwing teary fits over not being able to make the choice of where we ate for dinner.

It hurt my feelings.

It also made me question my parenting skills. I'm raising these ungrateful, unkind little creatures? Yikes!

Robert made them apologize and I had to rub a little salt in everyone's wound by asking the kids if they were apologizing so that I'd say they could have cake. They had to rub a little salt in everyone's wounds by saying yes and then both collapsing into piles of pitiful, angry, weeping child-like lumps on my floor because I wouldn't give the okay to have birthday cake.

So I went to Zumba instead. And I immediately felt better.

But I haven't felt like blogging much since then.

So now I'm behind.

What else is new?

Free* - Week 2, Day 3

2011-11-16T22:10:00.001-06:00

On Sunday, Robert and I had a row-off at the gym.

A row-off, just in case you were wondering, is where you race each other on rowing machines that are connected wirelessly.

I lost. By about 45 meters in a one thousand meter race.

But really, considering how fit Robert is, I think I did pretty well. Especially since that was after we hit the treadmill.

I had done a 2,000 meter rowing workout on Saturday, so when I woke up on Monday my back was stiff. I worked out anyway and then went to Zumba that afternoon. So I was really, really sore on Tuesday.

I finally gave in and took some Tylenol on Tuesday night before bed.

Best. Night's. Sleep. Ever.

I didn't make it to the gym today and I really missed going. My back, however. was eternally grateful.

Here's how you play THIS game

2011-11-16T21:23:00.001-06:00

Hey! Fellow parents of students at my kids' school - a word or two of advice:

The drop off/pick up lane is actually for dropping off or picking up. Shocking, I know.

It is not for parking, exiting your vehicle, and opening the door for your child (who, frankly, is more than old enough to unbuckle their seat belt, open the door, and climb out of the car all. by. themselves.).

That's what the parking spaces are for.

Yes, Ms. Tahoe and Ms. Element, I'm talking to you.

Free* - Week 2, Day 2

2011-11-16T21:04:00.001-06:00

Let's talk about truth.

It seems so absolute. Either you are telling the truth, or you aren't. Black or white, right?

Then the gray rolls in...because my truth may not be the same as your truth, and that I believe is known as perspective. It doesn't make my truth (or yours) any less true, either.

So here are my truths at the moment:

I've been actively trying to get off this extra weight for a little over two years now.

It sucks just as much today as it did two years ago.

Deep down, I'm afraid to succeed with this. I've never really been thin. On the overweight side of average, sure. But that brought me quite a bit of unwanted attention. Long story.

I know who I am within a certain weight range, but I have no idea who I'll be as a thin person. What if I totally suck?

I don't think that the me I see in the mirror is the me other people see when they look at me. I don't know how to fix that.

Food has been a much better friend to me than people over the years. That, as it turns out, is going to be next to impossible to let go.

You know that saying, 'Nothing tastes as good as being thin feels." Anyone that says that has never had 1) my husband's steak 2) red velvet cheesecake from the cheesecake factory 3) Dad's spicy cheese dip.
For real, people.

That other saying, "you have to do it for you" is probably the truest thing (at least from my perspective) I've ever heard, no matter what the subject.

I'm seriously considering applying for The Biggest Loser. If Bob Harper can't kick this weight off my tushie, then it's not meant to leave.

At least once a day I wish that someone would develop a pill I could take that would provide my complete nutritional requirements so that as a food addict I would not constantly have to face the source of my addictions.

What are your truths?

Automony

2011-11-16T07:45:00.001-06:00

When I was much younger and well before I had kids, I would get upset with my mom and say, "When I have kids...." followed by some dramatic declaration such as "....I'm going to let them stay up as late as they want!"

Clearly, my obvious lack of knowledge and experience is what kept her from laughing until she cried. Clearly.

This morning as we were leaving for school, Sara got upset because I wouldn't put her shoes on for her.

Because I'm in the running again for Mom of the Year, I calmly and logically pointed out that when she was a baby, I would put her shoes on and then she would take them off. I would put her shoes on and she would take them off. The way I figure it, I put her shoes on (if we are basing this on a once a day table) for the equivalent of six and a half years. Since she's been able to put on shoes since she was two, there's no reason that a normal fully functional four year old can't put on her own shoes, even if she needs help tying them.

It made sense to me. To Sara, not so much.

It was a rough morning until she got to school, and then she forgot all about my refusal to be her shoe butler.

When I picked her up, her teacher told me that they made dough in class today and that Sara was a pro at it. Why, she didn't need any help at all.

Hmmm. ::stroking my chin:: Interesting. Very interesting.

On the way to the car, her shoe came untied. She told me to tie her shoe. (Uh, as if!)

We had the ask versus demand talk. Again.

Then she asked me to tie her shoe. I asked her to wait until I got to the car so I could put down all of her stuff I was carrying and then I would tie her shoe.

It made sense to me. To Sara, not so much.

In a fit of anger, she kicked out her foot, her shoe flew off and struck the side of my car leaving a nice little imprint that I don't have the heart to check out and see if it's an actual scratch.

"When I have kids, they'll never have temper tantrums because they'll know I'm awesome!"

Stop laughing, Mom.

Motivation Monday/Free* - Week 2, Day 1

2011-11-14T23:27:00.001-06:00

I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack!

I feel better than I've felt in months, maybe even in years. I worked out hard last week. I ate well. I got a decent amount of sleep. I drank mostly water. I worked really hard on letting things go. Especially those things that just don't matter in the grand scheme of things.

It's amazing how many of those there are.

Oh yeah, and I lost 12 pounds as of Saturday morning. ::Happy dance!::

When I weighed this morning, I was up two pounds from Saturday. I'll still take it!

I'm happy with any weight loss, but weight loss that combines with noticeable cardiovascular improvement? Well, that's like winning the healthy living lottery.

Today on the treadmill I trotted/jogged a quarter of a mile. Without stopping or slowing down. This is huge for me. Especially since two months ago, I was having trouble walking on the treadmill at 2.5 mph.

I am definitely motivated and on my way to shedding the rest of this weight.

Free* - Week 1, Day 7

2011-11-14T23:04:00.001-06:00

My last trip to the library, I checked out 12 Steps to a Compassionate Life.

I haven't finished it yet.

I love the idea of it, but in all likelihood I should just buy the book. It's just not the kind of book I can just breeze right through, which is one of the things I like most about it so far.

Sara came home from bible study a few weeks ago having been introduced to the term compassion. She'll say, "Com-pash-ion. Cooooooooom-passsssssshhhhhhh-ion. Mommy, is that a big word?"

Bigger than she has any idea about, even though she hasn't asked me what it means yet.

I want to live a compassionate life.

I'm going to need some help with that, especially in crowded parking lots were all compassion deserts me.

One of the things I need to work on most is forgiveness. I think compassion and forgiveness make excellent partners, but they are a tough combination to practice. It's way too easy to get wrapped up in the 'me' or 'I' of things: how that makes me feel, what I want, how that affects me..

I tried doing random acts of kindness for a while. The first couple weeks I was really into it, and then I started to run out of ideas and then I just lost steam altogether. But random acts of kindness aren't necessarily compassionate.

It's something to think about over the next six weeks.

Free* - Week 1, Day 6

2011-11-12T23:10:00.001-06:00

Today was one of those Saturdays that felt like a Sunday.

I made cupcakes this morning for a bake sale, dropped them off, then headed to the Y to work out.

While I was sweating and panting on the arc trainer, I was reading a Self magazine from last year. My attention was captured by an article about how to lose weight like a guy. Apparently, men are single minded and reward themselves for the small successes, and that's what women need to do instead of berating themselves for every little slip or worrying about every single calorie.

Which I guess is true, but I don't think congratulating myself every time I don't eat a cupcake is going to get me very far, mainly because then I'll be thinking about cupcakes even more than usual.

The article also mentioned that all the grunting men do in gyms is indicative of their hard work and that by adding strength training, especially the kind that makes you grunt with exertion you make the most of your workout and rev up your metabolism.

Now, I love me some weight training. I'm way better at it than cardio and it gives me more energy than anything else I do in the gym. But I'm positive that I can lift weights, even really heavy ones, without grunting or shouting. I'm pretty sure my metabolism will forgive me for that. I'm positive my fellow gym goers will.

What the article did not mention is that lots of these grunting, weight lifting men are often lifting incorrectly - probably because the weight is too heavy. And if you are sacrificing form for pounds lifted, then I will not feel sorry for you when you drop a weight on your toe or you injure yourself.

So perhaps working out like a guy will cause me to lose weight a little faster, but I'm totally fine with slower, safer, correct form, injury free girly workouts.

Mission impossible

2011-11-11T23:36:00.001-06:00

I started seeing a cardiologist around March of this year. The initial referral from Tricare gave me six visits.

Fair enough.

I had a follow up appointment in June. The doctors office called to reschedule me three times, so it was July by the time I actually got in to see him. The visit went fine, but it was my fifth visit. I was counting because I've learned that it's best to stay on top of such things. Especially since any error will likely be at our expense.

When Dr. V told me he wanted to see me in four months, I asked his receptionist if I needed to get another referral from Tricare before my next visit. She assured me three times I didn't. Three. Uno, dos, tres.

I had to run by his office and get a new prescription written this week. I did this on Wednesday.

Today I get a call confirming my appointment for next week. Almost as an afterthought, the receptionist tells me that, oh yeah, I'm going to need another referral from Tricare before I can keep my appointment.

Uh, really? Because when I asked about that FOUR MONTHS ago, there was an entirely different opinion.

I should mention that this call was on speaker in my car and the kids were in the back seat, listening intently because I was using my 'mommy voice' with someone other than them.

There was a bit of snippy back and forth and I rescheduled my appointment for next week because there is NO. WAY. that Tricare is going to get me a referral letter by Tuesday (nor should they have to).

Tricare is closed today by the way. Just to make things more fun.

Way to try and give me a heart attack, cardiologist's office.

Free* - Week 1, Day 5

2011-11-11T22:50:00.001-06:00

Sometimes, you need to listen to your body and just do what it's telling you.

For me at the moment, that's to rest.

Happy Veterans Day, everyone.

Free* - week 1, day 4

2011-11-11T00:01:00.001-06:00

Whoops. It will be past midnight when I post this, but it's been a busy day. I volunteered at the Y tonight and didn't get home until around 9. The hours between 9 and now somehow magically slipped away, as they often do.

So here I sit, trying to come up with something, anything to say in this post that I haven't said at some point before.

So I'm going to talk about volunteering.

Tonight someone asked me why I 'work for free'. I don't really see it that way. I've mentioned before that I do not want my kids to grow up with a misplaced sense of entitlement. It's a battle. The problem is that I'm both the cause and the solution.

I want to give my kids a good life. But what defines good? I've seen how giving a kid everything they want can backfire. Lucky for you, I'm not planning to go into details. You're welcome. :)

I want my kids to realize how lucky they are. We don't have to worry about a roof over our head, food to put in our belly, or how to pay for a doctor if we get sick. We have so many extras. So many, in fact, I'm not sure the kids even recognize any of it as extras.

Lately, the kids have developed a habit of asking, "Do I get something special?" whenever they've done well at something and Robert and I are praising them. While I firmly believe that my kids are wonderful kids and I want them to know that I think so, I don't want them to think that entitles them to stuff or dessert or whatever. But they wouldn't think so in the first place if I hadn't somehow planted the idea.

See my dilemma?

Which leads me back to volunteering. I hope that by being around all different types of kids - some well off, some not, and lots in between - that my kids will develop empathy and a sense of equality and the idea that everyone deserves to be treated as such. No matter what the differences in people, everyone deserves to be treated with respect, empathy, and kindness.

I hope that's what I'm showing them.

So no, I'm not 'working for free'. I hope what I'm doing is showing my kids that you can contribute and make a difference simply by being involved. And often, what you give is automatically paid back (times 1,000) in how it makes you feel and how it changes your own outlook.

At least, that's how volunteering has worked for me.

You like me! You really like me!

2011-11-10T23:05:00.001-06:00

Imagine my surprise when I checked my email this morning and saw that I'd been given an award! Rachel at Lala musings made at least my month and possibly even my year by sending me the Liebster Award. Check out her blog at http://lalamusings-lala.blogspot.com and tell her I sent you!

I understand the Liebster is meant for newer blogs with fewer than 200 followers. Its intent is to give exposure to interesting up and coming bloggers, and there are rules:

1. Copy and paste the award on your blog.

2. Thank the giver and link back to the blogger who gave it to you.

3. Reveal your top 5 picks and let them know by leaving a comment on their blog.

4. Hope that your followers will spread the love to other bloggers.

MY FIVE BLOG PICKS:

1. The Inklings of Life

2. A Mother's Hood

3. OK, Who Put the Orange Juice in the Cupboard!

4. Expect This

5. The LaMay Bakery

Free* - Week 1, Day 3

2011-11-09T23:03:00.003-06:00

I didn't get to work out today. I probably could have fit it in if I had pushed it, but honestly? I needed to take it slower today.

Interestingly enough, I felt guilty about not working out. I ate more than I should have today, but I have been hungry almost all day, and that's pretty unusual for me. I didn't jump off the diet wagon even though the kids keep offering me candy from their Halloween baskets. I think I can smell the candy through the wrappers from 15 feet these days.

For dinner, I made chicken fajitas and made mine into a salad on a bed of baby spinach. I've never tried that before, but it was delish. And, since I have an entire bin of baby spinach to eat since my trip to the grocery store, I'm going to experiment with more dinner salads that way.

Can you tell I'm just a little fixated on food? It's not helping that every other commercial is about food. Thanks a lot Steak and Shake. Thanks a lot.

Free* - Week One, Day 2

2011-11-08T23:56:00.001-06:00

I was thinking about what to write about today. Here's what I came up with...

Being healthy is about more than working out and eating right, although that's a huge part of it. For me, being truly healthy is going to involve developing a healthy relationship with food. A task that seems, at times, damn near impossible.

Bad day? Have a cookie. Baking cupcakes? Gotta try at least one. Stressed out? Time for comfort food. And let's be honest, whose comfort food is tofu and a lettuce mix?

I've been telling myself for a year now that tomorrow I'll start a healthier eating plan and that I'll stop over eating. And for over a year, I've failed myself on that. And then I feel guilty. And then I want to (and often do) turn to food to comfort me.

It's sheer gluttony, really. So many people in the world dying of hunger or malnutrition and I throw out enough food in a year to feed quite a few of them well.

So how to stop the cycle?

Best guess? One day at a time.

It's day two of both the Free* program at the Y and my new improved eating habits, attempt 47. At least.

So far so good. I've stuck to the eating plan and I'm working out like a maniac. Which, truth be told, is helping me manage my urges to overeat, even though I think it's mostly because I'm too tired.

And that's gotta be at least a little more healthy than before, right?!?

Motivation Monday - Free*

2011-11-07T22:53:00.000-06:00

On the workout front, I kicked booty last week, working out five of seven days.

However, on the weight loss front, I did not kick booty. I was up three pounds from last week. Then again, I was eating everything in sight and then some. So it kind of figures.

The YMCA's in this area just rolled out a new program called Free*. You earn points for working out, volunteering, etc. One of the ways to earn points is to journal about your journey. I'll be blogging about it for the next six weeks. I mean, hey, it's worth 30 points a day if I read the point grid correctly. I hope that by doing this, I can head back down the path I'm supposed to be traveling and getting myself back on track.

For today, I've done a really good job. I'm doing a modified version of the Fat Smash Detox, allowing myself some protein every day and only following it for a week versus 10 days. After that, I switch back to the eating plan that always works for me (when I follow it) and I should have no trouble meeting my 20 pound weight loss goal by the end of the year. Well, 23 now.

I also did an intense interval workout with Robert this morning (jogging and mountain climbers included, yo) and then I went to Zumba this afternoon. The indoor triathalon is in Feburary and I really want to be in good enough shape to finish it and post decent times. I was planning on going to a Zumba certification class in December, but when I went to register today, it was sold out. Bummer! So, I'll just have to catch the next one.

Veteran's Day Parade in St. Louis

2011-11-06T13:58:00.002-06:00

Last year, Robert and people from his workplace marched in the Veteran's Day Parade in St. Louis. The kids and I didn't go - I don't remember why now. This year, I really wanted go and I wanted the kids to see him marching too. Since leaving the Army, he hasn't had much of a chance to do things like this, and I think he secretly misses it a bit. Well, maybe not the 10 mile road marches with a 40 pound rucksack in the middle of the night.

While he had to travel to the parade with coworkers, he could come back with us. After discussing options (mainly the apparent inability of our GPS' to actually find what we are looking for lately), we decided the kids and I would take the Metro to the city, watch the parade, we'd meet up afterwards and then we'd all come back home together.

So, the kids and I bundled up, took the Metro into the city and actually found the parade route. It was chilly and really windy, so after finding a good spot and standing there for a few minutes, the kids complained of being cold and hungry so we went into Union Station and got them a snack. Warmer and fed, we headed back out to watch the parade.

I was surprised there wasn't a very big crowd, but it was over a week before Veteran's Day. As we watched the groups go by, it hit me how small the groups of veterans were. Sobering.

The parade route. It was a little chilly and windy.

A mini submarine

Sara was sorta over it by this point.

Marching band

Robert's group. He's third row, third one from the right. I call his expression his "Army face"

Afterwards...Sara was still over it.

The perfect ending to a wonderful day...Jersey Mike's style

2011-11-05T00:17:00.000-05:00

Yesterday was a bit of a rough day.

There was that whole no cookie thing at the commissary that threw Sara over the edge of 'I've had enough today' and 'A tantrum seems like a great idea, thankyouverymuch'.

That, in turn, led to a rough hour between the time we got home and she caught the bus for school. I could recap the whole thing, but the shortened version of it is that a hungry, tired, disappointed four year old = the demanding of my undivided attention and when that wasn't entirely possible, things got a little ugly.

I had put a pizza in the oven for myself (Kashi now makes a line of frozen pizzas and they are delish), and when I walked back in the house from putting Sara on the bus, the timer went off. Perfect! I opened the oven door, carefully grabbed the edges of the aluminum foil and lifted the pizza off the oven rack. The foil ripped and the pizza bounced off the side of the oven door and onto the floor. There was sauce, cheese, and diced tomatoes all over the oven door, the floor, and the cabinet.

Bummer.

I didn't have time to clean up the whole mess, I had to be at the kids' school in 20 minutes to put up a bulletin board, and the oven was too hot to clean. I picked up the pizza off the floor and most of the big pieces that weren't sizzling into perma-seal on the oven door and rack and off I went.

The bulletin board took longer than I expected, so I got home about 10 minutes before Sara. When I walked out to meet her bus, one of the kids that got off before her told me the bus driver wanted to talk to me. Sara was sobbing hysterically and had been since she got on the bus that afternoon. I carried her home, snuggled up with her on the couch, and she was asleep within 10 minutes.

I finished cleaning up the pizza carnage, threw together a quick dinner and by 6:45, I was asleep on the couch myself which meant I missed Zumba.

Bummer.

I was dreading today because the schedule was hectic. I was volunteering with Sara's class this morning, getting her a quick lunch then off to her afternoon preschool. Housework, followed by picking the kids up at school so that I could get to the Y to volunteer from 3:15-7:30. Then rushing to a local church to see the kids perform a song from their bible study class.

Somehow, everything today went perfectly. I had a blast (per usual) with her preschool class, she actually ate lunch instead of picking at it, she was happy to get on the bus to go to her afternoon preschool class, I got almost everything done at home today that I wanted before I had to leave to get the kids.

At school, I got there in enough time to pick up Sara before Tucker got out of school, we made it to the Y in plenty of time, Robert picked up the kids with enough time to get them some dinner before they had to be at the church to rehearse. I was worried I'd miss their program because it started around 7 and I wouldn't be finished until 7:30, but I got to church just as they were taking the stage. They did well, and Tucker was so into it that the local radio station host (who was the emcee) singled him out and introduced him. So freakin' cute!

Afterwards, I was starving since I hadn't eaten since lunch and it was now 9pm. I told Robert and the kids I was going to go grab something to eat and I'd be right home. As soon as I got in the car, I remembered that I saw a Jersey Mike's in a nearby shopping center. I figured I'd swing by and see if it was open yet. Jersey Mike's was my absolute favorite sub shop in NC. I don't think I'd eaten at one since before Sara was born.

I got there at 9:09. JM's was open for business! The open sign was still on, there were people in there, but no cars were in front. I got out of the car and was walking towards the door when I noticed that the hours said they closed at 9. Oh, well. At least I know it's open for business.

I was heading back to my car when another vehicle pulls up beside mine and a guy gets out. He says something about the store being closed, I quip back "I KNOW! It's nine o'clock on a Friday, what's up with THAT?!?!"

Welllll.............

At which point he pulls out his keys, tells me he's the owner, and to come on in and he'll make me a sub.

Say what?!?!?!?

I'm really touched. But, having worked in the food service industry, I don't want them to have to stop the closing process to make me a sandwich. Last minute customers, no matter how nice or well meaning, kinda suck on a Friday night from an employee perspective.

But he insisted, and as I apologized profusely to the employees for interrupting them while they were trying to close down, he actually made the sandwich himself. And then he wouldn't let me pay for it. So I tipped what I hope was the equivalent, introduced myself to the owner, whose name is Greg, and told him how much I appreciated it and how psyched I was that a Jersey Mike's finally opened in our area.

Then I drove home and savored every single bite of that amazing sandwich. I even offered some to Robert, but he didn't want any.

So thank you Greg, owner of the Shiloh Jersey Mike's, for making what was already an awesome day that much better...especially after such a yucky day yesterday. And thank you for the best sub I've had in oh...five years or so.

No Cookies for YOU!

2011-11-03T23:57:00.003-05:00

Everything started off so well today.

I got up, made the bed, washed or brushed all the important things (no point in a shower since I was heading to work out), got the kids up, dressed, and fed. I dropped Tucker off at school and Sara and I headed to the Y. I saw my friend Kristine for the first time this week and managed to finally give her the birthday card I got her just under a month ago. I had a great workout and after a quick stop back at the house, Sara and I headed for a much overdue trip to the commissary.

The commissary trip was going so well. I had my coupons organized and everything. Sara was being awesome, very patiently waiting to go by the bakery counter and see if she could get a free cookie.

We got to the bakery counter and my least favorite worker was back there. Of the three we see back there, she seems to be the least kid-centric. The deal with the kids and I over the free cookies is this: the sign has to be posted, they have to ask politely for the cookie themselves, they absolutely have to say thank you without being prompted, and the bakery is our last stop before we check out.

The sign was up and we were done shopping, so we walked up to the counter. Every third or fourth trip, I buy something from the bakery too, mostly because adults don't get free cookies. ::Sad face::

The lady asked what I wanted, I ordered, and Sara asked for a cookie. The lady didn't respond or give her one, so I just thought she didn't hear Sara. So, I asked for her and was told that they didn't have the free cookies today. Which, really, if you think about it, isn't it kind of odd for a bakery to be out of cookies by 11 am?

Sara, who really has behaved so patiently until this point collapses to the floor and starts to cry. She has a point, the free cookie sign was posted. I know it's not the end of the world if she doesn't get a cookie, but it wouldn't have killed least-friendly-bakery lady to be a little more gentle about it. Or to have taken the sign down when the cookies ran out, failed to appear, or ceased to be an option.

I tell Sara that we'll figure something else out and ask her to please stop crying. She gets up off the floor and we move on even though she's still upset. I feel for her, I really do.

I offer instead to let her choose a Lunchable because hey, if you can't kill your kids with sugar, why not with processed lunch meats and sodium?!? Yay! Everybody wins!

His Name is Earl

2011-11-02T23:52:00.000-05:00

The other morning, Tucker asked me what I looked like as a teenager.

As it happens, I have a pretty decent sized photo album with plenty of pictures of me as a teenager.

Usually, the kids will just flip through pictures really quickly. Probably because I'm the one who suggests sitting down with them to look at photos, but still...

But this day, they took their time and asked lots of questions.

Sara couldn't believe that I had long hair.

Tucker just wanted to see what everyone used to look like.

My parents are divorced and have both remarried. So Sara and Tucker thought it was hilarious that I had a couple pictures of my parents when they were married. I'm not quite sure they get the idea of first marriages yet.

Then we saw a picture of my brother - circa the very early 90's.

Tucker: Who is THAT?

Me: That's Uncle B.

Tucker: Where?
Sara: Uncle B? Where?

Me: Right there.

Tucker: He used to have hair?!?

Me: (grinning broadly) yes, he used to have hair.

Tucker: He looks like "My Name is Earl"

Bwaaahahaaahaaaaaaaaaaa.

The mullet. The great 80's equalizer.

If you know my brother, this post is way funnier.

This look? She totally gets it from me.

2011-11-01T17:34:00.000-05:00

My Very Own Captain America

2011-11-01T17:29:00.000-05:00

Isn't It 'Iron'ic?

2011-11-01T06:01:00.003-05:00

It's 4:36 AM. I am wide awake after stumbling up to bed at a rather decent hour for a change and crawling into my own tiny piece of heaven aka our bed (with winter comforter instead of lightweight summer blanket - warm, sleeping husband included). It's cool here and getting cooler and I'm too ~~cheap~~ ~~frugal~~ energy conscious to turn on the heat. That's why we have sweatshirts and blankets. And socks.

I'm also a bit punchy, so watch the eff out. Wheeeeeeee!

I don't know what woke me up exactly, but I was immediately aware that 1) my throat hurts and 2) it feels like the cold I've been trying to convince myself was merely allergies (although I firmly believe it started off as allergies) is going to settle into my chest and becoming something nasty.

Why Brooke, you may be thinking, is there really a need to be so pessimistic?

I'd like to point out that I had strep last winter no less than three times. Which brings my 40 year strep throat tally to 4, so it's a little concerning. This geographical area has taken a serious toll on my physical well being. I think it's all the corn and soybeans fields up in here. That's not entirely accurate. I think it's a combination of the harvesting of said corn and soybean fields combined with the avoided yet inescapable fact that we live on glorified swamp land. Tomorrow, if I remain coherent, I'm going to take and post the pictures to prove it.

Anyway!

I emailed the PTO president with my very clever Reading Night bulletin board idea (once it's approved I'll share it, yo) and some other nonsense about what I needed to do for Reading Night. I volunteered to be the committee chair and I am cheesily excited about it, because I love reading and being in charge of things. The fact that I won't be in charge of anyone else but myself (in all likelihood) matters not.

After my email, I was still wide awake so I surfed some blogs and goofed around online and I thought - hey! I should totally do a blog entry. Because who WOULDN'T want to hear what I think about at 3 to 5 AM - especially if I don't actually call them at this unholy hour to tell them what I'm thinking in person?!? I guess it's kinda like drunk dialing, only I'm high from coughing fit induced lack of oxygen rather than any chemical interference.

But per usual, I'm getting off track.

Blog entry. Right.

But what to write about? And then I thought - ooooooooooooh. I know! I'll write about my iron theory. I've done a post today, (technically yesterday) so if no one reads this -and wouldn't THAT just be a tragedy ::snort:: - no big deal.

Here it is. I've had problems with low iron levels for years. The first time I was even made aware was when I was giving blood pretty regularly. I'm type O, the universal donor, which always seems to be in demand. The company I used to work for had blood drives on site pretty often but allowed employees go to the Red Cross to donate while on the clock and use it as volunteer time. Which was pretty awesome of them, truth be told. I would occasionally get turned down for donation because my iron levels were too low. I never even gave it a second thought.

When we were living in Germany and I realized I was pregnant with Sara (since I can apparently only get pregnant while ON birth control (true story)), I had to take a blood test to prove it to the military. I guess they run a series of standard tests on potentially pregnant blood since I got an unrequested call from an actual doctor a few days after the clinic confirmed I was, in fact, pregnant. I guess the three positive home pregnancy tests weren't confirmation enough. I did have a nurse tell me once long, long ago that while women can get false negatives with the home kits, they do not get false positives. Just thought I'd throw that in as a useless piece of trivia. You're welcome!

Focus, Brooke.

Anyway, the doctor called and was uber concerned about my very low iron levels. Probably because of my advanced maternal age. I know he told me what the levels were, but I don't remember anymore. I do remember that he put me on double iron supplements in addition to prenatal vitamins AND they tested my blood every month for the duration of my pregnancy. I should probably mention that I have a history of intense menstrual bleeding and that prior to getting pregnant with Sara, I had a period that lasted pretty much six months straight. Hello, low iron levels!

Fast forward to much more recently, and after a couple years of heavy yet fairly normal menstrual cycles, I had about a four month stretch where my periods were really light. Tubes are tied (sorry if that's TMI) so I knew I wasn't pregnant, and I was pathetically grateful for the break. If this is pre menopause, bring it ON!

Ahh....... but I should have known that there would be payback. In May, I started a menstrual cycle that lasted pretty much until a week ago. My longest break during this cycle? Four days.

I mentioned my concern over excessive blood loss and what that might mean to my cardiologist in July, but no one in his office seemed concerned. Of course he's a heart doctor and not an OB/GYN. I even called the Med Group a couple times to make an appointment with an OB/GYN, but it's doggone near impossible to get an OB/GYN appointment within four days either on or off base. And since I had no way of predicting when or if I'd have a break from the never ending period, I kept putting off the appointment. I should probably also mention that I do have one scheduled for a couple weeks from now. And that I had my first 'normal' period after making the appointment. Figures. ::deep sigh::

So as the never ending period progressed this summer, I found myself with less and less energy and more and more desire to do nothing but sleep. In August, I found myself losing ground with my workouts. Serious ground. By late September/early October if I dragged myself into the gym, I might make it 20 minutes on cardio equipment. Maybe. At the beginning of the summer, I could easily walk at a 3.5 mph pace on the treadmill for 45 minutes. At the beginning of October? I was doing really well to walk for 10 minutes at 2.5.

Secretly, I was terrified that this was a result of my heart issues and that I would soon be carting around a portable oxygen tank and considering myself lucky to make it another 10 years. I cannot even try and explain how much that panicked me. Or how determined I was to avoid dealing with my concerns.

Meanwhile the backslide continued. I was heading into the commissary and got winded walking across the parking lot. I was appalled, scared, worried, and about a million other things all at once. I should also mention that while I bought iron supplements in July or August, I wasn't taking them regularly yet. Well, being winded from not doing anything scared me into a bit of internet research and regular swallowing of iron pills. A search of "symptoms of low iron in women" on my best friend Google resulted in this little list:

Difficulty in concentration

Increased irritability

Difficulty in breathing

Heart palpitations

Increased heartbeat

Headache

Pale lips

Brittle and pale fingernails

Pale palms

Excessive weakness

Constant fatigue

Pica (A condition that involves craving for non-eating foods such as paint chips, cigarette butts, ice cubes, paper, clay and so on)

I didn't have many headaches, but I could place a nice, fat check mark beside everything else. Well, okay, for the Pica one, I only think so because of my insane love of ice. I would go through cups and cups of ice, especially crushed ice, every day. I've even blogged about my love of ice. Hey, it was slow idea day, don't judge.

Could it be that most of my issues of the past year were caused simply by low iron levels? Best way to figure that out was to take some iron pills and see. I am now taking a multi vitamin in the morning, and then before bed I take an iron pill.

Within DAYS I felt better than I had in months. Last week in the gym, I was on the elliptical averaging a speed of about five mph for the first time since the beginning of the summer. My quickest speed? A series of thirty second bursts of over 10 mph. I doubled my distance on the arc trainer without having to increase my time. I ran up the stairs tonight because I was running late for Zumba without losing my breath. \

The Zumba class I attended on October 3? I had to stop halfway up the ONE flight of stairs and catch my breath. Then I sucked wind for the half lap of the track I had to walk once at the top of the stairs until I got to class. But today? I ran up the stairs, trotted around the track and jumped into class. Easy-peasy. I can't wait to see what my stats are when I go to the cardiologist this month. Bet they are gonna be awesome! I also have color in my face for the first time in ages. And I think my hair loss is slowing down. I had way less hair come out in the shower yesterday morning. I'm sure my shower drain thanks me. I know for sure my vacuum cleaner will.

Alrighty then. It's 6 AM and I need to get ready to face my day all sleep deprived and silly.

Thanks for reading my iron level theory ramblings. I'm sure I'll be properly appalled at this blog entry once I'm well rested and thinking clearly. heh. Then again, maybe not.

Motivation Monday

2011-10-31T23:28:00.001-05:00

No movement on the scale this week. I'm okay with that. Tomorrow I go back to putting great effort into better eating a la portion control and non processed foods. Mostly portion control, since portion control and frequent exercise seem to be the keys for weight loss for me. My goal is to lose at least 20 pounds by the end of the year. I have felt so much better lately that I can't wait to see what hopping back on the smarter eating habits bandwagon will do.

This afternoon I headed to Zumba for the second Monday in a row. Last week I pushed myself pretty hard on the cardio machines and today in Zumba I could tell a difference just from last week. I can not even begin to tell you how excited I am about that. I got some excellent weight training sessions in as well, and I had the sore muscles to prove it. It felt awesome, as odd as that sounds.

I took the kids trick or treating tonight on base. Robert stayed home to hand out candy. It was a great night for trick or treating, not too cold or windy. We didn't walk terribly far, the kids were happy with making one big loop around our friends' neighborhood on base. The kids aren't that crazy about candy anyway, so they are in it more for the experience and hanging out with their friends than anything else. But any movement is good movement, especially with the smell of Kit Kats in the air.

Things aren't always what they seem.

2011-10-31T01:06:00.003-05:00

Friday night was the Fall Festival at our local Y. I volunteered months ago to help and found myself in charge of the cake walk when I arrived on Friday. A cake walk, if you've never heard of one (and I was surprised how many people had not) is basically walking around in a circle to music. When the music stops you stand on a number on the floor and a number is pulled out of a bowl. If you are standing on the number pulled, you win! Normally you win an entire cake, but since all the goodies were donated, we had lots of cupcakes, cookies, brownies and things of that nature.

At first, there weren't too many people participating. There was a lot going on outside too, and the weather was holding at pleasantly cool and breezy. When we actually developed the need to make a line, we tried to make it as fair as possible. After trying a couple different ways to do that, we formed a line. After every round, all the participants would leave the floor and line up. That way any new players were the first ones to be in the new round.

For the most part it worked well. The main complication came when people were heading to line up at the back of the gym. Some parents and kids walked through the middle of the cake walk, even when it was in progress, and it got a little confusing when the music stopped and we told the players to stand on a number.

The only other situation we had involved a boy - I'm going to guess his age at around 12 or so - who was taller and heavier than most of the other kids. When he'd come into the gym, he wouldn't wait in line for the next round. He'd just jump into the game.

Other than me, all of the volunteers involved with the cake walk were from the local high school. Several times, they asked him to wait for his turn in line. He would start to walk away, but then apparently jump back in when they weren't paying attention. We were allowing families with more than one child to let each child have a number, so at first no one realized what was happening.

Once we did, we kept our eye on this kid. Then I saw him jump out of line and bump off a smaller kid who was standing on a number. I went up to the bigger kid and explained that he would need to wait his turn, that since no one had to wait more than one round without playing he would have plenty of chances to play and win. He sneered at me and turned his back to me.

Great.

I started to walk around to face him, but he turned around again. I could tell this was going nowhere quickly, so I put my hand on his arm and leaned a little closer and told him that he could either play nicely and fairly, which involved waiting his turn and not shoving smaller kids around, or he would have to sit out and watch all his friends play.

His response? "I can't hear you" and he shook my hand off his arm.

My response? "You obviously can, and if you want to stay in here and participate, you'll stop behaving this way. If not, I'll walk you out of here myself."

He walked off.

The mom of the kid he shoved off a number walked up to me and told me thank you for speaking to him. Apparently, the bigger kid was being difficult wherever he was and she was fed up and just about to find a manager because no one else seemed to be saying anything to him.

Oh boy.

A few minutes later, he was back. Since I was standing by the entrance, I reminded him that he had to follow the rules or he'd have to leave. When I noticed that he was behaving nicely, I made a point to walk over and tell him that I'd noticed and that I appreciated it. He looked stunned that I was saying something nice to him. That made me feel a little sad for this kid.

At the end of the night, I was heading to my car and I saw him sitting on a bench outside the Y. He looked upset so I walked over and asked him if he was okay. He shook his head no. I asked him if I could do anything to help. He shook his head no. I asked him if he wanted to talk about it. He shook his head no. I asked him if he wanted me to leave and he didn't say yes or no. So I asked him if it would be okay if I sat beside him for a while. He nodded. I was surprised.

I was even more surprised to see that he was crying. I put my hand on his back and patted it for a second. Then a lady walks up (I think she was his foster mom) and asks him what was wrong. He points to the window, where the balloon guy was making something for someone. Apparently, he wanted a balloon animal but the guy told him he was getting ready to leave and was doing his last balloon creation. The recap of the issue from his foster mom upset him even further and he moved from the bench to the sidewalk and began to sob.

I asked if I could do anything to help, and she said that he needed space or things would continue to escalate.

I felt so sad for this kid. Sad that he felt being mean to others was the only way to protect himself, sad that he was heartbroken over not getting a balloon animal, sad that this is probably way more common than I have any idea about.

Later on, Tucker tells me that this kid called him a baby that night and also that this was the kid that had gotten Tucker so upset that he didn't want to go to the Y for a while a few months back by being mean to him and teasing him. And that just made me even more sad for this kid.

So, I told Tucker about what had happened that night - both the bullying and the situation outside the Y. I told Tucker that he was lucky to have the life he has and that not everyone is that lucky.

Tucker's response was to ask me if this kid could come and live with us so that he could have a good life too and would be nicer and happier.

I explained that it wasn't that simple, and that maybe a better solution was that we could all be more understanding when people were mean to us. They may have all sorts of things going on in their lives that we don't know about, and the best thing we could all do is to be really nice, even when it's hard and we don't want to be.

Tucker's response to that? "Do you think we could find someone to make a balloon animal for him and take it to him? Would that a nice thing to do, Mom?"

"Yes, Tucker" I replied while my eyes teared up. "That would be a very nice thing to do."

Sometimes this kid of mine just blows me away.

I just wish a solution for kids like this would be that simple.

Writers Workshop - 22 Things I've Done

2011-10-27T21:55:00.002-05:00

1. Loved and lost

2. Recovered from #1, even when I wasn't sure it was possible.

3. Gone to a drive in movie theater as an adult

4. Eaten dessert first

5. Seen the sunrise from a beach on the East Coast and the sunset from a beach on the West Coast.

6. Driven on the autobahn

7. Gotten in a fist fight

8. Been robbed at gunpoint

9. Danced like no one was watching

10. Gotten divorced

11. Been in a car accident

12. Kept a secret

13. Shoveled horse poop

14. Made a complete jerk of myself

15. Cried with joy and laughed with relief

16. Changed a tire

17. Slept in a castle

18. Read the last page before I read the book

19. Avoided all things Bieber like the plague

20. Maxed out weight machines at the gym

21. Gotten my Masters Degree

22. Kissed a stranger at midnight on New Year's Eve in London

Another great writing prompt from Mama Kat!

Practical or lazy?!?

2011-10-26T21:49:00.001-05:00

This morning, I got up and washed my face, brushed my teeth, and made our bed.

Hmm.

It has come to my attention over the last decade or so that I do not really care for housework. I'll do it, but it certainly isn't with a Disney Princess cheerful attitude.

I love the way my house looks all shiny, polished, vacuumed, mopped, and dusted but very rarely are all those things done at the same time.

Not helping my attitude is the fact that I can get one room done, walk out of it, come back a few minutes later and it looks like I never even touched it. I miss the days when I could clean my house and it would stay clean until I messed it up. I struggle at times to accept those days are long gone, but I'm not willing to become obsessive about always having a clean house either.

I want the kids to remember their childhoods as the best times of their lives, not by how upset I was about not having a perfect house. But on the flip side, I want them to realize that cleaning a house takes effort and there's no such thing as a house cleaning fairy that swoops in while they are sleeping to do it for them.

...which circles right back to my search for balance...

Anyway, as I was making the bed today I found myself thinking, "Why am I doing this?"

I mean, I know the answer. I make the bed because it's important to Robert that the bed be made. If it were up to me? It might and it might not get made up every morning.

Oh, who am I kidding? I refuse to use a flat sheet because then I can just throw the comforter over the top of the bed and call it made. Yes, I'm aware that's just sad...or efficient, depending on how you choose to look at it.

I have to admit, the bed looks much nicer when it's made up.In fact, it makes the whole bedroom look nicer. But in the back of my mind is a tiny, annoying voice pointing out that the bed is just going to get messed up again tonight so why bother. I hear that same voice and argument about opening curtains and blinds too. Harrumph. Daylight and sunshine are overrated sometimes.

Open them shut them...open them shut them....make the bed, do the dishes, do the laundry, dust, vacuum, sweep, mop...

Sigh. Where are the forest animals to whistle my happy little tune?

Motivation Monday

2011-10-24T21:37:00.000-05:00

Guess what? Today I felt actual motivation for the first time in....well, a while. ::happy dance!::

My workout yesterday went really well and today I made it to Zumba. Even better than that, I made it through Zumba with ease. Much better than the last time I went.

I credit remembering to take my iron pills. I've had trouble with my iron levels for years, but low iron hasn't ever affected my health (other than making me tired) before this go round.

Last week I did manage to work out five times (yay I met my goal) and lost a pound to boot. Not too bad, really considering all that was going on.

Tomorrow I circuit train which I'm excited about because I have really, really missed doing serious weights.

A friend of mine invited me to go with her to a Zumba certification class in early December. If I really hit the cardio hard between now and then (and get clearance from my doctor), I'm going to give it a try. How cool would it be to be Zumba certified?!!?!? Pretty darn cool, I think!

The Word of the Day is Caution

2011-10-23T23:30:00.001-05:00

Caution comes in handy. Standing next to a busy highway, I would hope that caution and a healthy dose of common sense would keep you from sauntering across. Pulling out at Mach 10 onto a road and then going 15 miles under the speed limit also does not show caution.

If you've noticed I'm leaning towards tales of vehicular caution, you are correct and it ties directly into my point today.

And yes, I have a point today.

About 11 years ago, Mom and I were driving to the 90th birthday party of a friend of the family. This party was way out in the country, so it was a pretty long drive.

Mom was driving and I was riding shotgun. We came to a caution light at a three way stop and all lights were flashing red. So, naturally, Mom stops. Not three seconds later, someone slams into us from the rear, knocking our car out into the middle of the road.

Everyone was fine, even though the people in the car behind us got completely hysterical and not in a "Gee, are you guys okay" kind of way. We called the accident into the police and requested an ambulance since one of the passengers in the other car hopped out and ran across the road shouting, "I'm knocked out! I'm knocked out!" Yeah, we didn't really get that either.

When the police and ambulance got there, they took one look at the cars (we had moved our car safely off to the side of the road by then) and tried to make all of us go to the hospital to get checked out. Mom and I politely declined, all of them went. I heard the EMT say that this was the third accident scene he'd been to where these people were involved. So either they were really, really bad drivers or they were hoping for a huge insurance payout of some sort. If that's the case, it would probably be a better idea if they were the rear-endees and not the rear-enders. But I digress.

Since then, I've always slowed down at caution lights. I stop at the red ones and slow down at the yellow ones...which if I remember the drivers ed booklet correctly is what you are supposed to do. You just never know when some crazy fool is going to come barreling through.

Yesterday, I was heading back home from Sam's and needed to stop at the commissary for a couple things for Tucker's party. On base, I'm vigilant about observing the speed limit because security forces will get you in a heart beat.

On the weekend, most of the base stoplights turn into flashing caution lights. So, as I approached one flashing yellow, I slowed down. I didn't stop. The guy behind me lays on the horn. Umm..okay then. I look in the rear view mirror and he's all hand gestures and yelling face. So I make a motion or two of my own and motion him around. If he's in that much of a hurry, let him get the ticket.

He passes me angrily (trust me, this guy was pissed) and then...uh oh...we are both heading to the commissary. He blows through a couple stop signs in the commissary parking lot. I park a few cars up from him and see him stomp into the commissary.

I get my cart and see him standing in the fruit section. So I walk over and say, "You know, it wasn't necessary to be so rude."

It takes him a second to figure out why I'm speaking to him and then he starts yelling. At me. In the commissary. I'll skip the details, but the gist of the conversation was that he claimed you don't slow down for yellow lights, I disagreed, and then he yelled some more and stomped off leaving everyone one around us staring with their mouths open. Did I mention he was yelling? Like, really, really loudly?

Now normally, something like this would have me so angry I would be unable to form coherent sentences OR I'd burst into tears. For whatever reason, I was calm and non phased.

Oh, right...I was calm because you are supposed slow down for a yellow flashing light. Even though no one in this regional area seems to agree.

It took about five minutes for the adrenaline/bravado/righteous indignation to wear off and then I realized what a non-cautious, unintelligent thing that was to do even if I was in public.

But never fear. I came home and gave myself a stern lecture about caution and how and when to use it. I'm also grounded and have to go to bed early.

Super Mario Super Party

2011-10-23T00:38:00.000-05:00

Tucker's birthday party was today. This was one hectic week, all things considered. My mom and her husband were visiting, I had picked up several full shifts at the Y, I was volunteering in Sara's classroom and I had to get everything ready for the party.

But here it is, the end of the week, and we all survived. The party went beautifully. Because I got so many of my ideas from different blogs off the internet, I wanted to do a blog entry about what we did in case it might help out someone else.

Food: we kept it pretty simple. Veggies and dip, a fruit tray, cheese and crackers and then we served pizza.

Decorations: We ordered the basic party pack from Birthday Express. This included a tablecloth, plates, place mats, cups, napkins, balloons, forks and spoons. This is what the table looked like:

We played several games.

Pin the mustache on Mario (the reason he looks funny is because I drew and colored him)

I forgot to take a picture before we pinned the first mustache . Oops.

Super Mario Bros. Bean Bag toss. We made this too. On a tri-fold display board we used a cd as a guide for how big to make the holes. We printed the characters off a website. The point value I made in Word using 72 point Bauhaus 93 font in bold. I found the bean bags (in mostly Mario colors) at Party City. The kids loved, loved, loved this.

Coin toss: I bought a bag of 400 plastic coins at Party City, we tossed them up in the air, let them hit the floor and scatter, and the kid who picked up the most coins won a little prize.

Egg race: Two plastic Easter eggs, two spoons, and the kids who weren't racing were the obstacle course. Priceless!

Dance game: We found this at Party City too. Each kid takes a card, makes up a dance move representing the picture on the card, and then all the guests try to string the routine together. So cute! Since I was playing too, I didn't get a picture of us playing this one, but here's a picture of the game.

Cake: I ordered the cake through a lady who works at the Y where I volunteer. She did an excellent job! Tucker still wanted some cupcakes, so I made red velvet ones with white cream cheese icing. I had tried making blue icing, but I couldn't get the color the correct shade.

Gift bags: Wii Remote candy dispenser, Mario yo-yo, temporary tattoos, Halloween pencils, glow sticks, and some Mario fruit snacks.

The best part of the party, though, were the people who came - both kids and adults. We only let Tucker invite six kids and of those six, three didn't come. But those who did are good friends of ours and the parents stayed, which made it that much better. Especially when Tascha and Robert tried to take each other out in the egg race. And while I was doing the dance party with the kids, all the other grown ups were helping clean up, which was way above and beyond. I know it was Tucker's birthday, but today I feel like we were all given a gift.

Dogged

2011-10-22T23:22:00.002-05:00

I'm warning you now, this post is going to be about cake.

Okay!

Let's talk red velvet cake. I've been playing around with a recipe for about two weeks now. Since I kind of stink at icing cakes, I tried baking the batter as cupcakes and in a pound cake pan. The pound cake pan was a good idea in theory, but the cake turned out too heavy or something. Cupcakes worked much better - they baked more evenly, somehow had a better flavor, were easier overall to manage. Plus, they were done in 20 minutes.

And Oh. My. Goodness. The cream cheese icing? Turned out beautifully every single time. I may be a lifetime convert.

Batch one: cupcakes. They were excellent except for the fact that I didn't have enough red food coloring and they turned out more of a reddish purple than a deep red. That did not deter us in the least from eating them.

Batch two: make in a pound cake pan. It looked so pretty, but the texture was a bit tough (I think I over beat the batter a bit) and the flavor was a little bland.

Batch three: cupcakes. I got distracted while they were baking, so half of them were a bit too done which seems to make them taste kind of bland. I also tried making blue cream cheese icing since I was going for Super Mario Bros. colors. The icing was way too pale blue (if just as yummy) which made the cupcakes look like sunburned smurfs. I gave most of them away and then (and this will appall my mother) even threw some of them away.

Batch four: cupcakes. Last chance before the party. Friday night at 10 pm I start the process. The wet ingredients looked like some sort of modern art painting.

Somehow I managed to get this batch the right shade of red and the right amount of done. This is what they looked like:

They were pretty doggone good, but I gotta say, I think I'm done with red velvet for a while.

Just a thought...

2011-10-21T23:19:00.001-05:00

I'm watching a show on Discovery ID called Deadly Women. I'm only half listening, but they are talking about a woman who kills her significant others for insurance money. First husband name? Norman. Second husbands name? Robert. While I don't kill my mates, I did divorce the first one (who was named Norman). Robert better hope I don't start hanging out anyone named Clarence.

And as a totally unrelated side note, any time I hear the name 'Clarence' I immediately think of Clarence Carter and the song "Strokin'".

Writers Workshop - A recipe that went all kinds of wrong.

2011-10-20T23:56:00.000-05:00

I love to bake. I like to cook, but cooking is not my passion. I favor quick, healthy, easy meals that do not send echos of Rachel Ray bouncing back and forth in my brain.

**Nothing against Rachel Ray, her voice just loops in my head in a most unpleasant way. Yum-O!**

Since Robert spent so much time in the military, he'll pretty much eat anything - lucky for me! He also has a decreased sense of smell and taste which might just help that out a teensy bit.

One day I was making pancakes with Bisquick and I noticed a recipe on the back of the box. The recipe was for a cheeseburger casserole. Hey - Robert likes Bisquick, Robert likes cheeseburgers. I'll make this!

I followed the directions on the box, talked it up nice and yummy for him. Pulled it out of the oven, slapped it on a plate and waited for what I was sure would be the, "This is really good, thanks" comment.

**crickets**

Nor did he want more.

Hey, I'm a big girl. I can take it. So I ask him, "Didn't you like this?"

**long pause**

Wellllllll........

No. No he didn't like it. In fact, he asked very quietly and politely that I never offer this particular meal to him again.

So I tasted it.

Even though I had followed directions faithfully, it was sort of a soggy, doughy mess. The flavor was pretty good. But the texture and consistency? Not appealing. And it was kind of a uniformly grey color. If you've ever seen Better Off Dead, it wasn't too different from the mom's cooking. Definitely not Yum-O! I don't even think EVOO and fresh herbs could have helped. A strong margarita may have, but I didn't think about that until much later.

But, to Robert's great relief, I have never served it again.

A post about nothing

2011-10-19T22:35:00.003-05:00

If Seinfeld can make a TV show about it, I should be able to pull off a single blog post, right?

Here's the thing about nothing - it can actually be nothing, or it can be very much something.

For example:

Me: Kids, what are you doing?

Kids: (giggling while answering in unison) Nothing...

Further investigation reveals complete mayhem in their bedrooms...blankets and sheets off the mattress, pillows strewn about, and tiny little flushed faces indicating that there has been some significant bed jumping going on. One can practically hear the mattress groaning in pain.

Or this one:

Me: Whatcha doin'?

Robert: (warily) Uh, nothing?

Me: Okay.

Robert: (after a short pause) Why?

Me: No reason.

Robert: (radiating waves of doubt) Ooo-kay

Me: I love you.

Robert: No, really what do you want? (you can almost hear him thinking - 'please don't want to rearrange the furniture.')

Nothing. There's something in it for everyone.

Motivation Monday

2011-10-17T21:52:00.001-05:00

Yeah, well.....

Today's post should be titled non motivated Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday....

You get the idea, right?

I volunteered at the Y all last week, but I didn't do nearly as well with workouts. We had something going on every night last week, so I didn't work out then either.

Seriously - all this free time I'm supposed to be having certainly has made me busy.

And as a result, I'm up another pound.

Crap.

So this week, I am going to concentrate on balance. Balance as in finding a way to work exercise into my schedule at least five times a week.

Even as I say that, I'm not sure how that will work this week...I'm working two nights this week at the Y, volunteering on Friday at Sara's school, MOPS on Wednesday, Tucker's birthday party on Saturday, and Mom and her husband are coming to visit this week.

The kids are so tired from last week and weekend that they voluntarily went to bed early tonight. They were dissolving into tears over every little thing after school today, so I didn't feel up for the fight to get them the gym so I could go to Zumba today.

But a friend of mine told me about a Zumba certification class in early December, so now I have a goal to work towards.

Maybe I should park my car and ride my bike everywhere....

When the heck did this happen?!?

2011-10-16T23:47:00.000-05:00

Right before we left Germany, we were lucky enough to book a session with Annie Pennington, photographer. She's an AF wife and mom, phenomenally talented, super nice, gorgeous inside and out, and just an all around great gal. My experience with professional photography until Annie consisted of studios such as Olan Mills, JC Penney, Sears, and Portrait Innovations...all of which delivered good pictures. Robert and I hired a photographer for our wedding, but I had to have a private investigator track him down to get my already paid for wedding pictures, so I don't like to think about that too much.

Annie shot us outside, just down the street from where we lived. The pictures on my banner? Annie Pennington. My favorite pictures of the kids of all time? Taken by Annie Pennington.

So I was beyond excited when not too long after we moved back to the States, Annie and her family moved back to Oklahoma. Our very own G Bob and G Sandy live in Oklahoma, so the idea was in my head that maybe one day we could do another session with her. Also in my head was that I would love to get more into photography 'one day' too.

Fast forward to a couple weeks ago. There I was, in Gatlinburg, innocently having dinner. I pulled my digital camera out of my purse to show Chris some pictures of the kids. A few minutes later, I pulled it out again to take a picture and (insert doom music here) the lens would not extend. No lens, no pictures. The camera wouldn't even let me review the existing pictures on the SD card because of a 'lens error'. I know what 'lens error' means. It means buy another camera.

So I started doing some research. I really wanted a more professional camera. Nothing hugely expensive because who wants to spend two grand on a camera and find out they are completely talent-less? Not this girl! No, sir! I talked it over with Robert after trying really, really hard to use his camera without getting frustrated. His camera didn't have hardly any of the features that my most recently expired camera had. It was kind of like having to start riding a bike everywhere after being used to driving everywhere - a hard step back to take.

This weekend, we went and looked at cameras and I ended up with a Cannon Rebel. Best Buy offered a decent package that included an extra lens, extra battery, and a camera bag. I also have two weeks to decide if I would like to keep it and I can spread the payments out over 18 months with no interest. I had already checked out a couple photography books so that a) I could know what I was actually looking at and b) I'd have a better idea how to hopefully take good pictures.

Three clicks of the shutter after I got the camera out of the box and assembled, and I was in photographic love.

So today, we all went to the park and I took a ton of pictures - most of which got deleted, but I am learning. Some of them turned out okay. But now I have to figure out how to self edit the pictures, and then I have to figure out how (or maybe more accurately where) to get the pictures printed.

From our session with Annie, I remembered she listed the printing company she uses on the CD packaging. Only problem with that is that I'm not sure where the CD is. Um...oops. No matter, I thought. I can just go to her website. Only problem with that is that her website no longer exists. I found her old site, but the link on it links to a site that only has her name and a short article on wedding photography. Oh. No. That's okay...we're FB friends, so I go to her info page. No mention of her photography business, which used to be listed there. I'm not going to lie, I'm a bit heart broken. I mean, I'm sure that if she isn't doing sessions right now, it's the best for her and her family (which I totally **sob** understand), but it's a bummer.

But what doesn't kill you and blah, blah...so I'm going to try and figure it out on my own. And then I'll take a photography course or seven and actually learn some skills. But, here are my two favorite pictures I took today...

I love my family!

I love this picture because it perfectly represents the kids relationship right now. T is trying to accomplish something and S is off in lala land blocking him and not even aware (or concerned) the she's the cause of his frustration.

A history of curls

2011-10-15T23:56:00.003-05:00

Sara, like many girls with stick straight hair, is in love with the idea of curly hair.

When school started this year, we bought some foam curlers. Sara's hair is curl resistant, so if we want the curls to stay in more than a couple of hours, her hair needs to be pretty damp when it's curled and it ideally needs to stay curled up overnight.

After doing this pretty regularly over the last two months, I'm finally getting the hang of it.

The kids had a birthday party today, so Sara wanted me to curl her hair last night. Here's what it looked like when I first took it down

Definitely curly!

Here's what it looked like when we first fluffed it out.

Usually it relaxes quite a bit after a couple of hours, but here's what it looked like after the birthday party, about seven hours after we took it down.

I think I may have finally figured it out. Tucker suggested today that we nickname her 'Curly'.

It's Preschool Pumpkin Patch Time

2011-10-15T23:30:00.000-05:00

Friday morning, Sara's preschool class went to a local farm for pumpkin picking and other farm fun.

After picking out their pumpkins, the kids got to ride rides and go crazy in the play areas. Then we all ate lunch at the picnic area and went to see the pig races.

The only complaint is that we had to leave before the kids were ready. Heck, I could have spent all day there myself! It was such a beautiful day and so much fun!

I borrowed Robert's camera, but forgot to check the batteries which of course died mid fun farm visit. Isn't that just the luck?!

Bummer, man.

2011-10-12T22:42:00.001-05:00

I know that over the last year or so especially I've talked a lot about friendships and such. While I find people endlessly fascinating, often they leave me scratching my head and wondering what in the heck....

Tonight is one of those times and I'm choosing my blog to vent about it because a) I can and b) it might save me from making an ass out of myself.

In a nutshell, here's the story: I wanted to throw a surprise party for a friend of mine for her birthday. Lately, she's seemed a little down and I wanted to do something really nice. After checking with her hubby about a month ago to make sure that he didn't already have something planned, I started trying to set this little shindig up.

The guest list was a bit short.She works and I don't, so I don't really know her other friends very well. I know she tends to keep work separate from her private life, which makes that list even shorter. Fair enough. I invited everyone I could think of or find on her Facebook page. Out of the invitees, two were going to be out of town, two accepted, and two weren't sure.

Tonight I find out that only one other person is coming. I am so disappointed. I tried really hard to put this together and I feel like I have totally failed.

And what do you even say in a situation like this anyway? Sorry, friend. I invited others but no one showed?

Okay, wait.

I'm upset and being a little unfair. I understand that life gets crazy. I get it, I do. But come on. If you've known the plans for several weeks and have said you were coming, what's the deal with bailing three days prior?

I just feel terrible for my friend.

Baking Adventures

2011-10-11T13:26:00.001-05:00

I got it in my head to try and make a red velvet cake. I looooooove red velvet cake. Well, I love really good red velvet cake. If it's over cooked nor not moist enough, it's pretty....blech.

Of course I didn't have some ingredients...like enough red food coloring. Red food coloring, as you can imagine, is a pretty important ingredient of red velvet cake. After a trip to the commissary and then to Walmart (for the things I forgot at the commissary), I had what I needed.

But then I didn't have enough time.

Rats.

Not my red velvet cupcakes, but don't they look yummy?!

So today I had time and I thought, 'hey! Let's make a cake." I tried to get Sara on board, but she wanted to ride her bike so we did that for about an hour. Which was awesome!

Shortly before the bus picked her up, I started getting all the ingredients together. Guess what I can't find? The two bottles of red food coloring I bought on Saturday. I called R at work to see if he might know where they are. He did not.

Drat. I've already mixed the wet ingredients in one bowl (minus the food coloring) and the dry in another. Like it or not, I'm kind of committed to making some kind of cake.

Interesting fun fact...red velvet cake batter without the red is a kind of purplish/grey. It does not look yummy, no matter how yummy it tastes.

I found a tiny bit of red in the multicolor box I use for mixing icing colors, so I dumped that in. It changed the batter from purplish/grey to red-ish. Better than nothing.

So I toss the batter in cupcake pans and bake away.

Man did they turn out delicious! Now all I have to do is make the cream cheese icing and find someone to give most of them to.

Many thanks to Food Network for the awesome recipe.

Motivation Monday/Tuesday/When I remember to post it

2011-10-11T12:53:00.001-05:00

***It was a pretty busy holiday weekend, which led to Saturday feeling like Sunday, Sunday feeling like Saturday, and Monday just feeling plain odd. I had the Monday post mostly written, but I was engrossed in a book and forgot to post my Monday post on Monday. Lucky for me, my posting/not posting has no real effect on how the world turns. But I do sincerely apologize.***

No change on the scale. But I only got a workout in on Monday and Friday. I did active things off and on through the week and I was so busy that I kept moving all week and weekend long, but dedicated workouts? Not so much.

However, with my iron level on the rise, at least I don't feel like walking to the mail box requires a similar effort to, say, climbing Mount Everest. Yes, it was that low. Yes, I know that's really dangerous. I'm doing everything possible to fix this...even if it means having to dive into a delicious, thick, juicy yet lean steak once a week or so. It's a hard life at times.

Friday I thought it would be a GREAT idea do do some serious weight lifting. After I got my cardio in, I did three sets of chest presses with 20 lb dumbbells, three sets of chest flys with 15 lb dumbbells, three sets of skull crushers with 15 lb dumbbells, three sets of military presses with 15's, three sets of shoulder raises with 15's, and three sets of tricep extensions with 15's. Oh, and three sets of bicep curls with 20's.

And then I couldn't move without pain until today.

I talked to Dad on Sunday and we had a chat about frustration and 'healthy living' changes. I wonder if results will ever happen fast enough for me. Probably not. But I have to keep trying. I thought eating healthy and working out would get easier over time. In one way that's true (it's usually a part of my every day routine) and in one way that's not true (because it's still difficult and sometimes a real struggle). But all I can do is keep on keeping on. Eventually, something is going to click that has not clicked yet. And when that happens, you'll hear my whoops of joy across the land.

It was pretty much a perfect weekend

2011-10-09T23:56:00.000-05:00

After my recent embarrassing little iPod incident, I've decided to make more of an effort to be technologically um....aware. Proficient would be a bit of a stretch after my half decade or so of ignorant bliss, so I think aware is a good compromise. And achievable.

So this is my first post after voluntarily choosing to switch to the updated/upgraded Blogger interface.

Yay me! Or something.

Moving on....

Friday, the school district we live in had a teacher workshop day, so the kids were mine. Alllll mine. Muahhhhahahaaa! We had planned a play date that afternoon with some kids up the street, but by Friday at noon, the plans had grown from four kids to eight.

Growing up, there were no kids my age on our street, which was kind of a bummer sometimes. So knowing we'd have kids and live where there would be lots of other kids made me really happy. Of course, then that whole anti-social, hate to be outside thing popped up, but I'm working on it.

Friday was proof. I think I was happier than the kids were. Everyone got along and played well together. It was the least Tucker and Sara have bickered, like, ever. And while there were dramatic moments courtesy of our Resident Diva, she recovered pretty quickly and mostly accepted reasonable solutions.

The play date turned into dinner and both the kids were asleep by the time I tucked them in. I hope everyone else's kids slept just as well.

Saturday, we did errands and then headed to the Circus. Last time I went to any circus, I only remember hot, smelly, long, and kinda boring. This time, I really enjoyed it. Granted, it was a little warm inside the tent, but all the performers did a great job and it moved along quickly enough that the kids didn't get bored. It was two hour show complete with 20 minute intermission, but there were tons of acts and they were all great. Robert and the kids even got to ride an elephant. I passed.

Today we didn't really do much but hang out together.While all weekend was completely awesome, I think that was my favorite part. Oh, and Tucker decided to start riding his bike minus the training wheels, which he mastered in less than 10 minutes.

Writers Workshop: What does this mean?

2011-10-07T22:22:00.000-05:00

They just aren't that into you.

Anyone remember that episode of Sex and the City? If not, the theory of "he's just not that into you" turned into a book (which I didn't read) and then a movie (which I did see and was...meh).

This is so, absolutely, positively, utterly true. Not just about dating relationships, either. Any relationship fits.

I have spent what would probably add up to years and years waiting for people to make an effort be part of my life. Heck, sometimes I was happy for a hint of effort. No worries, mate! I'll do all the heavy lifting. Even imagined effort would work for the right person.

After I split up from my first husband, I made a concentrated effort to go out with anyone that asked me. I figured that since I had made so many bad relationship choices by thinking I knew what I was looking for that going out with what I didn't think I was looking for might actually work. I joined a dating website, and the adventures began.

I went on some great dates. I went on some awful dates. I got stood up. I heard a bunch of lame excuses. I learned how to spot a married guy in an introductory email. I met a lot of nice guys. I met a lot of not so nice guys.

But the most important thing I learned was that if a man was interested, he would call - no matter how busy or crazy work was, no matter who he had just broken up with, no matter what his friends thought. If he was interested, he'd call. And if he didn't call, he wasn't really interested.

What has taken me so much longer to learn is that this theory is just as valid on friendships.

Wait...

That's not entirely accurate. I've known it for a while. It's just taken me a long time to accept it.

Let's be honest, it sucks when you like someone more than they like you...no matter what the relationship. But even if the effort has a five year break between tries, effort will be made. And if it isn't, my advice is this: keep an open mind and an open heart, but don't see effort that isn't there. In the long run, you'll be a whole lot happier.

Writing workshop prompt by Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop.

Defining busy

2011-10-05T12:51:00.000-05:00

For me, today, busy is this:

7:45 - leave the house
8ish - drop off Tucker at school: fighting traffic, other drivers, and driving idiots
8:15ish - walk Sara into her preschool, get her signed in and settled.
8:30ish - leave preschool, pop into McD's for an unsweetened iced tea. It's going to be one of those days, dontcha know?
9:00 - arrive at first stateside MOPS meeting, complete with open mind and heart
11:00 - sneak reluctantly out of MOPS during craft time (dang it) in order to be able to pick Sara up on time.
11:20 - buy Sara lunch because I forgot to pack it before I left the house this morning.
11:30 - pick up Sara and discover she managed to skin up both her knees at school today. Be very proud that even though she is limping, she doesn't ask to be carried.
11:49 - arrive home and get Sara ready for her afternoon preschool while encouraging her to eat her lunch. Listen calmly as she throws a fit over wanting to be a 'car' kid over a 'bus' kid. Solve this issue by taking the bus tag off her back pack. Do a silent 'Thank you, God' dance that the issue was that easy to fix.
11:57 - walk Sara out to the bus.
12:15 - sit down to check email, listen to voice mail, and figure out how to make the schedule for the rest of the day work.

Here's what I've come up with.....

It's now 12:44. I need to go to Sam's and return something I bought, then buy more sliced apples and some Legos for the kids' Christmas presents. I've eaten, so I will not be tempted by the food there (yeah, okay).
By 2:30, I need to be at Sara's morning preschool to pick up something.
By 3:00, I need to be home to meet Tucker's bus.
By 3:15, Tucker and I need to be back at school to pick up Sara.
By 3:45, the kids get dropped off at the bible study and I stay to help with snack time.
By 4:30, I head to the library, then home to change clothes and hopefully, hopefully make it to Zumba for the 5:30 class.
5:30 to 6:30 - ZUMBA, baby. If I survive that:
by 6:45, home, where the kids and Robert should be eating dinner.
by 7:00, bed time routines started (when does Tucker do homework tonight, YIKES!) and Survivor.
by 8:00, kids in bed and I'm thinking I will be too.

The only thing that scares me? If just one thing goes wrong this afternoon, everything is going to blow up in my face.

So, yeah. I think today I can safely say I'm busy. How do working Moms DO this? HOW?!?!?

What to do instead of housework...

2011-10-04T10:59:00.000-05:00

I miss my camera. ::deep sigh::

Moving on....

I woke up this morning feeling queasy and therefore it was difficult to get out of bed. I'm not really sure where the queasy came from since I forgot (again) to take my iron pill before I went to sleep.

Unless....dinner last night was chicken I bought last week, but looked, smelled, and tasted okay. Still, you can't be too careful with poultry. We used it by the sell by date, so I think it's just my mind playing tricks on me. That and thinking about the food poisoning episode I wrote about last week might be messing with my head. Blech!

Either way, this morning, I dropped the T man off at school and came back home. I did four loads of laundry yesterday and it needs to be put away. A friend of ours dropped off a box of clothes for the kids yesterday, so I need to wash and sort that too. And since I'll be in the kids rooms, I should go ahead and switch out summer and fall/winter clothes. And dust. And vacuum.

But what am I doing? Blogging.

Naturally.

You're welcome. heehee!

Tucker's birthday party is in about three weeks. It's Mario themed, of course. While my original party ideas have been scaled back to meet time and budget limits, I did manage to come up with what I hope will be a really fun party.

At first, I wanted to figure out a way to put various Mario scenes on the walls. You can purchase re-usable wall decals, but that gets expensive quickly. Like, really quickly. And since I'm not particularly artistic, I knew I wouldn't be able to draw scenes on poster board in time. Plus, the thought of all that responsibility being on my shoulders was a little too overwhelming on top of everything else. And Tucker tends to be a bit.....~~anal~~ of a perfectionist about all things Mario. We are just going to have to make do. I'm sure it won't matter once the party starts anyway (and since he didn't know what I originally wanted to try and do).

One of the games we'll be playing is "Pin the Mustache on Mario". To do this, I copied/drew the Mario from the invitations on a piece of poster board. I had started coloring it, but hadn't finished. So that's what I did when we got back home today. It turned out okay. I'd post a picture, but my camera isn't working. I'm pretty proud of it, considering my lack of true artistic ability. It will be interesting to see what Tucker says about it when he comes home from school today.

After finishing the poster, I cut out mustaches, which turned out really cute. Sara decided she wanted her mustache to be either light pink or light green, so she used the template we made and cut out mustaches in the colors she wanted. They turned out really cute and I wished for at least the seventh time today that my camera was working.

Next on the creative agenda? The target for the bean bag toss. I'm still coming up with ideas for that one, but I'm pretty sure the Mario characters should figure in there somehow.

Motivation Monday

2011-10-03T20:14:00.000-05:00

I'm actually posting this on a Monday!

Progress.

First the bad news. All that frat boy eating I did last weekend and the weekend before? Yeah, well, it showed up as a three pound weight gain this morning. Well, that and the complete lack of daily workouts. (Only two days last week - shame on me! Shame!)

Bummer.

I even peed, showered, and weighed again to make sure. Yep, three pounds up. But - I've got no one to blame but myself.

Yesterday involved a trip to Sam's Club. I sent the rest of the family across the street for frozen yogurt while I wholesale shopped. And I resisted the HUGE bag of peanut butter M&M's which, in my humble opinion, is the best thing ever invented...even with their artificial colors, flavors and high fructose corn syrup. That right there? Should have been worth at least a pound on the scale. (oh wait...what if it was?!?! Yikes!) Moving on...

Interestingly enough? Our Sam's Club carries Pepsi, Diet Pepsi, Coke, Diet Coke, and Coke Zero, but no Pepsi Max, which is Robert's favorite thing to drink.

I'm feeling a little sore today from our workout yesterday. My biceps are slightly achy and my butt is reminding me at every given opportunity of my 10 mile bike ride. Serves me right!

I did make it to the 4:30 Zumba class today. I even participated. At the end of the class someone asked me if I come to Zumba often. I said I used to, but I'm determined to get back in the habit. She said the same and mentioned she looked at the clock 30 minutes in and thought about leaving.

ME TOO!

But neither of us did. So that should count for something, right?

My weight loss goal for next week is to lose the three pounds I've gained back.

See you next week!

Hello, Fear, my old friend

2011-10-02T22:00:00.000-05:00

Either yesterday or the day before, Robert asked me if I was thinking of riding my bike to the gym on Sunday for our workout.

Ummmmm....well, I am now?!?

I'm mentioned a time or twenty-seven that my workouts have really been a struggle lately. Part of it is almost certainly lack of proper motivation. Let's face it, the rut I'm in currently may actually be big enough to camp in.

Last weekend in the beautiful mountains of Tennessee? Not once did I think 'ooooh...we should go hiking or walking or....anything'.

Not good. And not like me at all the past couple years.

I thought a lot about that on the way back to Illinois. Is it really just a motivation issue or is it something else?

I didn't really come up with any sort of answer. I mean, when I work out now, I know I have to listen to my body...but what if my mind is playing tricks on my body and I just think I need to stop/slow down when I really don't. What if I'm taking the easy way out? Stranger things have happened.

Or...maybe I just needed to take a break from working out. Which, if I'm totally honest with myself, I've kinda already been doing. I'm soooooo much slower on cardio equipment these days. I get tired so easily. I feel like I'm rolling backwards downhill and can't stop.

So today, I got on my bike and rode to the Y. On the way there, I stopped twice: once to adjust my backpack and iPod, the other because the chain was making a noise that sounded like it could mean trouble. The whole time I was afraid I wouldn't be able to make it.

But I did make it. I went super duper slowly sometimes, but I made it. Even though I was tired, by the time I was ready to leave the Y, I was ready to ride back. And the ride back went much better, much faster, and much easier. And, I only stopped (briefly) for stop signs.

And I realized on my bike ride home that fear is holding me back just as much as lack of motivation or anything else. And that just will not do.

Today is the day

2011-10-01T07:49:00.000-05:00

A couple weeks ago, I posted about how excited Sara was to be invited to a friend's birthday party.

That party is today. At 11.

Sara's first words yesterday morning? "Mooooooommmmmy....can I please go to Maya's birthday party YET?"

I mentally prepare myself for the next 30 hours before saying, "Tomorrow, sweetie. Maya's party is tomorrow."

Immediately Sara starts jumping up and down yelling, "YAY! YAAAAAAAAY!"

Sigh.

During the course of the day yesterday I agree to paint Sara's finger and toe nails, curl her hair, and let her wear a dress. Of course, out of that little deal I got a four year old who willingly took a bath, washed her hair, and managed to sit still for the nail painting and the rolling of her hair. It was pretty much a win win.

She even went to bed without protest when I pointed out that the sooner she goes to sleep, the sooner it will be Saturday - Party Day.

It worked. Don't judge.

Of course, around 2:30 this morning, there was the lightest tap, tap, tap on my shoulder and I heard Sara whisper, "Mommy?" All I had to say was, "It's still too early, Sara" and she actually went back to bed until the much more decent hour of 7:00 am. Not too shabby.

Yesterday afternoon, the school nurse called me to tell me that while putting up blocks, Sara accidentally got smacked in the eye. Last night for sure I thought she would have a black eye, but this morning it just looks like she's wearing a tiny bit of eye shadow.

And she's awfully cute with her foam curlers in her hair and her princess nightgown.....

Too bad my camera isn't working.

Writers Workshop - Yuck! Food Poisoning

2011-09-30T13:56:00.000-05:00

That I know of, I've only had food poisoning once.

And honestly? Once was a gracious plenty.

Defying my entire family and some would say even my southern heritage, I've never cared for mayonnaise. When I was younger, I wouldn't choose to put it on something, but I would eat things that had mayo in them - deviled eggs, chicken salad, pimento cheese.

My freshman year at college, I was home for the weekend. My boyfriend and I were out goofing around and stopped at this German cafe place for lunch. We each ordered a sandwich, mine with no mayo. When they arrived at the table, I took a bite and mayo oozed out.

Gross!

A normal person would have politely pointed out the error and asked for a mayo free sandwich. But not me. I scraped as much of it off as I could and then ate the sandwich. Because nothing says carefree and go with the flow like eating something you specifically asked not to have.

Two hours later, I was sitting on the toilet with my head hanging in a trash can. My body was trying really hard to expel anything and everything it could all at once. Not so pleasant, as it turns out.

Stupid mayonnaise.

But the worst was the next day, when there was nothing left to throw up and I was still trying.

Stupid mayonnaise.

Three days later, and I still couldn't keep water down. I spent a lot of time curled up on the bathroom floor, begging for holy intervention. Also because that way all I had to do was sit up to try and vomit.

So much fun!

Stupid mayonnaise.

By day five I don't remember if I called my friends or if they called me, but someone me brought some ginger ale. Even though I didn't really like ginger ale, it was like nectar from heaven. A gift from the gods. Bliss in a tumbler. One itty bitty little baby sip at a time.

Stupid mayonnaise.

I have no idea if it really was the mayo or something else that caused me to be so sick, but I choose to blame the mayo since I never really liked it anyway. And that way, when I follow up my 'no mayo' request with "I got food poisoning once" I get less looks suggesting that I'm an alien or had asked for puppy liver pate.

And, interestingly enough, that little cafe closed down not long after my week long toilet salute.

Coincidence? I dunno......

Technological fail

2011-09-30T12:45:00.000-05:00

Oh my...how the mighty have fallen.

The mighty, in case you weren't sure, is me.

Today, I dropped Tucker off at school and headed for the gym all pumped and movitated to have a great workout with lots of sweating and silent, internal swearing. I have no idea why swearing at the poor, innocent cardio equipment makes me work out better, but it does. It's a little sick, I know. But I used to say all sorts of hateful things to Jillian "don't phone it in" Michaels and Gilad when I did their workout tapes.

But I'm getting off topic. Again.

So I hop up on the elliptical, all self motivated and ready to go and start elliptical-ing to nowhere. Since they changed out the gym equipment in August, I swear it feels more difficult. My iPod completes the first song on my playlist....and then plays it again.

Darn you, auto repeat! I pick up my iPod and look at it. The little symbol for repeating is nowhere to be seen. You know what this means, right? It means that my four year old knows more about how to work my iPod than I do.

Frankly, that's just embarrassing. Especially since I used to work in IT/IS. Hahaaahaaa I used to work in 'it is"....anyone else laughing at that? No? Okay then..moving on.....

So, I'm so distracted by trying to figure out how to undo the auto repeat that I cut my speed in half on the elliptical. Seven minutes later, I still don't have it figured out even though I turned it off and back on, which was pretty much the fix for everything when I worked in IT.

Sigh.

I decide to get off the elliptical since I am apparently incapable of messing with an iPod, spinning my feet in a circle, and keeping my balance all at once. The poor lady beside me looked awfully worried that I was going to fall and take her out.

Onto the treadmill then.

Ugh. It's hot over here. I'm walking at a pokey pace (2.5 mph) trying to figure this out. After another 20 minutes, I give up. Fine. I admit temporary defeat. When I go home I am going to look up the solution online. And somehow I manage to clear one of my playlists completely. I hope it returns when I re-sync.

I decide to do crunches. I manage to do around 200 while obsessing about technology and how completely hopeless I've become. So tomorrow when it hurts to move or breathe, I'll have something to distract me in case I can't fix the auto repeat.

After more sit-ups and some stretching, I head home. I immediately look up how "iPod stuck on auto repeat".

Awesome! Yahoo answers has the solution...located in the iPod guide I should have around here somewhere on page 27.

Seriously?!?!?!?!?

All I had to do was tap the album cover to make the repeat symbol re-appear!?!?!?!?

For the love of Pete. SMH!

Technology - 2,345.....Brooke.... 3

Sigh.

The re-discovery of manners

2011-09-28T22:09:00.000-05:00

I grew up in an area where people said please, thank you, excuse me, and you're welcome without prompting and without sarcasm.

I expect my kids to be polite and kind to everyone and to use good manners. I hope that R and I model the behavior we expect.

This weekend, though, it was like I stepped off the regular planet and right into Mannerville.

I don't think we ran into a single rude person. People held doors for us. I heard 'excuse me' if someone walked in front of me if I was looking at something. No one was ill-tempered or snide or bitchy (including me, btw). We had the most lovely conversations with perfect strangers. One shop keeper even marked shops he thought we'd like on his map and gave it to us.

It's the first time in ages I've felt like hugging people I didn't know well.

We didn't have a single negative experience the entire weekend. Even when traffic was horrid and we weren't sure where we were heading, and that's saying something.

Isn't it amazing how far a few basic manners will take you? The best part for me? I'm recharged enough to start paying it forward and now I know where to go for a refill when I need one.

And hey - thanks for taking the time to read this!