Well. It's been quite some time since I last posted. I've meant to a thousand times -- I have had some great happenings to share about my kids and their never ending antics. Some deep thoughts I wanted to discuss about depression, the after effects and advice - giving. But in the end I kept silent. Not because I didn't want to share or talk about it. But because I've had another, huge, crazy, life and life style changing decision on my mind.
Around January 5 I turned to my husband and said,
Listen to me, don't give me a knee-jerk answer. Hear me out, then let's talk, think and pray about this: What would you say if I said I think I want to home school?
::deep breath::
He looked at me very calmly and said,
I think we should talk about it more. Research it and then research it some more. Talk to everybody we know who home schools. Then see how we feel.
After some more deep breaths, I called Diana and probed her brain about it, why they have decided to home school Bella, how her mom home schooled some of her siblings for a time. Then I made a list of every family we know who home schools. I talked with nine families who actively home school or have graduated children from home school and are now in college. As I was talking with them I discovered numerous other families in our church who had graduated children from home school years ago. I talked to our friends, I asked a bagillion questions. I asked about how their days are scheduled - are they scheduled? How do you get chores done? How does dinner get made? Errands? Appointments? Alone time? How do the siblings get along after being together so much? What about subjects that you, as the mom, have 'aged out' of? As in, I cannot teach high school chemistry. I found a home school 'school' that offers higher level science, math, Spanish, history and geography as well as art and gym. I was pointed in the direction of numerous co-ops, Internet support groups, field trip clubs, choirs, book sales, conventions. I was given more catalogs for curriculum's, supplies and activities than I can remember. I found on-line friends that home school and pointed me in the direction of more groups/blogs/books than I could read. Some of what I read was incredibly positive and happy and unicorns. Some it was depressing. And most of it was real.
So I talked with our friends again. And prayed more.
And then we said the words:
Let's home school.
::headexplosion::
We talked to the kids about it at the end of April - that's how long it took us to decide. This decision to home school was harder and took more thought and planning than deciding to have children. No joke.
So we talked with the kids and they all, without exception, screamed and cheered and laughed when we told them. That was such a relief!
Since then we have been talking about what their biggest fear is about home school and what they are looking forward to the most. Sarah doesn't have any fears and is excited about field trips- every day. We've had to talk about that misconception quite a bit. John was only concerned that he wouldn't get gym, music or snack. I reassured him that we'd play outside, I'd let him eat and we'd figure something out for music. Violet is looking forward to getting school done in a few hours versus an entire day, and is most disappointed in missing the fifth grade dance next year. Those are all easy things to deal with.
We've had many, many questions about our decision, why we're choosing to do this now, to not continue with public school. The most common, and honestly, most insulting question has been, "What about socialization?"
We socialize our dogs. Our children? We do fun things with. We take on field trips. We do every day, normal things in public. Plus, my children are in multiple different activities - Sarah and Violet dance, swim and play softball. John swims and plays soccer. He'll start cub scouts in the fall. The girls will sing in a choir. Violet will attend the home school 'school' for art. We're not removing our children and ourselves from society and moving to some remote island in the middle of nowhere to live solitary lives.
It comes down to the fact that this decision is the best for our family at this point in time. We want to spend more time with the kids - I realized that I get five hours a day with them. Five. And those hours are spent yelling at them to hurry up and get out of bed, get dressed, eat breakfast, get out the door, get home, get changed for dance/swim/softball/soccer/whatever, eat a snack/dinner, do homework, get in the car, come home, take a shower, stop talking, get in bed, stop talking, sleep, be quiet!
Which all adds up to us not enjoying our children on a daily basis. For us, we decided we wanted to change this. This is not a judgement on families who do not choose to make this change. It is simply the right decision for us, for right now. We'll do this year and then evaluate where we are at the end of the year.
So. Here we go. The 'school' room is being painted this week. We have a large table. Maps. A white board. A great book case. And an incredible curriculum that all of us are excited to dig into.
And yes, we're also a little scared. But I found that as soon as we verbalized our decision my major fears and doubts disappeared.
Crazy.
Showing posts with label random. Show all posts
Showing posts with label random. Show all posts
Monday, June 3, 2013
Friday, March 1, 2013
The Golden Globes and Modesty: A Lesson For Violet
Ok, so this is post is no longer timely, as the Golden Globes took place in .... January? But I'm feeling that old need to blog again, and this is still on my mind . . .
Violet is 9 1/2 years old and we keep her young. As young as possible. Some of the things we avoid include shows where the characters date -- if she's not of dating age we don't think she should be watching shows where the characters are. We avoid shows with swearing - I was excited about Scott Baio's new show (because, hello, Cha Chi!), but within the first 10 minutes he was saying 'damn' and 'hell.' This may not seem like much to you -- and I'm not judging you for that. We just feel, for our children, it's inappropriate. We've avoided, as best we can, the whole fat vs skinny deal and stressed being healthy. Last Spring we had to approach the needing a bra for the first time and buying clothing that I didn't pick out off the rack at Target or Kohls. She and I have talked some - her leading the discussion - about what it feels like to 'like' a boy (maybe, she wasn't sure. It was so ridiculously cute.).
But, we haven't had to delve deep into modesty. She wears a uniform to school and dresses/skirts to church and mostly jeans and cute tops otherwise.
And then I had the bright idea to have her watch The Golden Globes Red Carpet show with me. Because the dresses and hair would be such fun for us to see together.
Ummmm . . .
I reached for the remote to change the channel as the first partially exposed breast popped (ha) up on the screen, only to discover it was in the other room. Violet's eyes were huge and her mouth was hanging open. And I suddenly realized that this was the perfect, natural way to start a conversation about modesty, avoiding an awkward conversation started out of nowhere.
So I said, "Wow. Look at that. That dress is kind of low cut."
She looked at me and said, "What is that crease on her chest? Are those breasts? Why is there a dent between them?"
Ahhh, cleavage.
So we had a discussion about cleavage. In which I had to demonstrate how it is made. Good times, people.
She wanted to know if she'd have that some day, and would she have to show it off?
When all the 'key hole' necklines started appearing she leaned forward and openly oogled the women. Then she turned to me, horrified, and said, "Is that the side of her breast? Will it fall out?" So we talked about fabric tape and how they were all taped in to avoid a 'wardrobe malfunction.'
She had questions about how tight some of the dresses were and how the women could possibly walk in them. Then one of them tipped walking up some steps and we giggled together.
Then she said, "Why is that women dressed like a man? The one next to girl in purple hair?"
I busted out laughing, I will admit. She was talking about Kelley Osburne and Ross, who do the fashion 360* mirror deal. I told her his name was Ross and he most certainly was a man. She looked at me like I was crazy and said, "Mom. Listen to his voice! That is a woman!" I couldn't argue that he sounded like a woman, so I just said that was just how his voice sounded.
We continued to have a great conversation about the dresses, the hair do's and which ones she found pretty. Then Jennifer Lopez walked by.
Violet about choked.
She looked at me, completely shocked and said, "MOM! That woman is naked! On TV!"
I explained that she wasn't naked, that there was a lining in the dress, so she was actually covered, it just looked like she was naked. Violet stared at J Lo some more and asked, "But WHY would you want to look naked? On TV? In front of people?" So we talked about how different people find different clothing appropriate. I did my absolute best to not be judgey while still teaching her what we find appropriate and what God finds appropriate.
It was so hard. What I wanted to say was, "You will NEVER dress like that! Turtle necks! Floor length skirts! Heavy tights! No make up! No skin! Most of these women look like whores!"
Instead, we acknowledged what parts of the dresses were pretty, what colors we liked. What hair do she'd like to try out. All in all, I have to say I feel like this was a parenting win. Every now and again we have those moments.
The sad part of this? The next night I watched some of Joan Rivers best and worst dressed review. Every single woman that was covered - that didn't have cleavage up to her neck or her breasts exposed to her belly button, was ridiculed for not dressing appropriate to her age, for being dowdy and most were put on the Worst Dressed List. The women, namely Jennifer Lopez, who had exposed breasts and slits in their dresses up to their crotch, were declared to be 'true Hollywood elegance,' the 'epitome of what a star should look like,'
Not that I would take Joan River's advice on what to wear, but what a sad statement this is for our society.
Anyway, I'll get off my soapbox now and tell you that while most of dresses did not impress me, I thoroughly enjoyed the Golden Globes themselves and think Tina Fey and Amy Pohler should host every single awards show from here on out.
Violet is 9 1/2 years old and we keep her young. As young as possible. Some of the things we avoid include shows where the characters date -- if she's not of dating age we don't think she should be watching shows where the characters are. We avoid shows with swearing - I was excited about Scott Baio's new show (because, hello, Cha Chi!), but within the first 10 minutes he was saying 'damn' and 'hell.' This may not seem like much to you -- and I'm not judging you for that. We just feel, for our children, it's inappropriate. We've avoided, as best we can, the whole fat vs skinny deal and stressed being healthy. Last Spring we had to approach the needing a bra for the first time and buying clothing that I didn't pick out off the rack at Target or Kohls. She and I have talked some - her leading the discussion - about what it feels like to 'like' a boy (maybe, she wasn't sure. It was so ridiculously cute.).
But, we haven't had to delve deep into modesty. She wears a uniform to school and dresses/skirts to church and mostly jeans and cute tops otherwise.
And then I had the bright idea to have her watch The Golden Globes Red Carpet show with me. Because the dresses and hair would be such fun for us to see together.
Ummmm . . .
I reached for the remote to change the channel as the first partially exposed breast popped (ha) up on the screen, only to discover it was in the other room. Violet's eyes were huge and her mouth was hanging open. And I suddenly realized that this was the perfect, natural way to start a conversation about modesty, avoiding an awkward conversation started out of nowhere.
So I said, "Wow. Look at that. That dress is kind of low cut."
She looked at me and said, "What is that crease on her chest? Are those breasts? Why is there a dent between them?"
Ahhh, cleavage.
So we had a discussion about cleavage. In which I had to demonstrate how it is made. Good times, people.
She wanted to know if she'd have that some day, and would she have to show it off?
When all the 'key hole' necklines started appearing she leaned forward and openly oogled the women. Then she turned to me, horrified, and said, "Is that the side of her breast? Will it fall out?" So we talked about fabric tape and how they were all taped in to avoid a 'wardrobe malfunction.'
She had questions about how tight some of the dresses were and how the women could possibly walk in them. Then one of them tipped walking up some steps and we giggled together.
Then she said, "Why is that women dressed like a man? The one next to girl in purple hair?"
I busted out laughing, I will admit. She was talking about Kelley Osburne and Ross, who do the fashion 360* mirror deal. I told her his name was Ross and he most certainly was a man. She looked at me like I was crazy and said, "Mom. Listen to his voice! That is a woman!" I couldn't argue that he sounded like a woman, so I just said that was just how his voice sounded.
We continued to have a great conversation about the dresses, the hair do's and which ones she found pretty. Then Jennifer Lopez walked by.
Violet about choked.
She looked at me, completely shocked and said, "MOM! That woman is naked! On TV!"
I explained that she wasn't naked, that there was a lining in the dress, so she was actually covered, it just looked like she was naked. Violet stared at J Lo some more and asked, "But WHY would you want to look naked? On TV? In front of people?" So we talked about how different people find different clothing appropriate. I did my absolute best to not be judgey while still teaching her what we find appropriate and what God finds appropriate.
It was so hard. What I wanted to say was, "You will NEVER dress like that! Turtle necks! Floor length skirts! Heavy tights! No make up! No skin! Most of these women look like whores!"
Instead, we acknowledged what parts of the dresses were pretty, what colors we liked. What hair do she'd like to try out. All in all, I have to say I feel like this was a parenting win. Every now and again we have those moments.
The sad part of this? The next night I watched some of Joan Rivers best and worst dressed review. Every single woman that was covered - that didn't have cleavage up to her neck or her breasts exposed to her belly button, was ridiculed for not dressing appropriate to her age, for being dowdy and most were put on the Worst Dressed List. The women, namely Jennifer Lopez, who had exposed breasts and slits in their dresses up to their crotch, were declared to be 'true Hollywood elegance,' the 'epitome of what a star should look like,'
Not that I would take Joan River's advice on what to wear, but what a sad statement this is for our society.
Anyway, I'll get off my soapbox now and tell you that while most of dresses did not impress me, I thoroughly enjoyed the Golden Globes themselves and think Tina Fey and Amy Pohler should host every single awards show from here on out.
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
Guest Posting over at Letters For Lucas
Today I have the honor - and luck- to be guest posting over at Tonya's place Letters For Lucas. If you haven't visited her before, you really must. She is wise, kind and inspirational. I've written my own letter to my family, Dear Husband and Children. today and I hope you'll pop on over and take a look.
Thursday, October 4, 2012
Politics and Facebook
I'm a republican. But I don't think Obama is evil. Do I agree with his politics? Not quite. I also don't think Romney is evil. Do I agree with Romney? Not quite.
So who am I going to vote for?
I don't know.
Then, after reading my Facebook feed this morning I decided. I'm totally voting for Obama.
Then I got deeper into my feed . . . and decided I'm totally voting for Romney.
Because these Facebook status' verbally ripping Obama and Romney apart really made me think and change my point of view
*snort*
Here's what those status updates did do:
Convince me that Republicans are going to vote for Romney because Obama is an evil man.
And also convince me that Democrats are going to vote for Obama because, duh, Romney is an evil man.
Mind? Blown.
So, who am I voting for on November 4?
I don't know.
So who am I going to vote for?
I don't know.
Then, after reading my Facebook feed this morning I decided. I'm totally voting for Obama.
Then I got deeper into my feed . . . and decided I'm totally voting for Romney.
Because these Facebook status' verbally ripping Obama and Romney apart really made me think and change my point of view
*snort*
Here's what those status updates did do:
Convince me that Republicans are going to vote for Romney because Obama is an evil man.
And also convince me that Democrats are going to vote for Obama because, duh, Romney is an evil man.
Mind? Blown.
So, who am I voting for on November 4?
I don't know.
Monday, August 27, 2012
Ready . . . Set . . They're All Gone!
On Tuesday John will start kindergarten. Full day, every day.
Sarah will be in first, Violet in fourth. And they'll all be in the same school.
All day, every day.
Which means, I'm home, alone.
Alone.
I thought I was going to be all, "Woohooo!! Freedom!!"
But instead I'm all, "Woohoo. Freedom."
I'm making lists of all the projects I want to get done. Writing down all the things I've got to to, still, every day, whether I've got zero kids or one kid or three kids at home. I'm reminding myself that I'll be watching my niece a couple days a week, I have my job, I've just started an online daily devotional (http://shereadstruth.com) and will be able to go to my own church's bible study on Wednesday mornings for the first time in years.
So I'm going to be busy. Perhaps busier in some ways then when I had John home with me.
But you guys? I'm really starting to realize how much I'm going to miss him. Them. All of them home together.
I've got the uniforms purchased. The school supplies ready to go. Backpacks packed, lunch boxes ready to be filled.
And I'm petrified.
What if he misses me? What if he gets frustrated and starts having a tantrum? What if his teacher can't understand him because of his speech difficulties? What if the other kids in his class can't? What if he's too shy, too slow to warm? What if he can't buy milk on the first day? That will derail him for days.
What if I cry when I put him on the bus? What if he cries?
Oh, Lord.
I think keeping myself busy is the least of my worries.
Sarah will be in first, Violet in fourth. And they'll all be in the same school.
All day, every day.
Which means, I'm home, alone.
Alone.
I thought I was going to be all, "Woohooo!! Freedom!!"
But instead I'm all, "Woohoo. Freedom."
I'm making lists of all the projects I want to get done. Writing down all the things I've got to to, still, every day, whether I've got zero kids or one kid or three kids at home. I'm reminding myself that I'll be watching my niece a couple days a week, I have my job, I've just started an online daily devotional (http://shereadstruth.com) and will be able to go to my own church's bible study on Wednesday mornings for the first time in years.
So I'm going to be busy. Perhaps busier in some ways then when I had John home with me.
But you guys? I'm really starting to realize how much I'm going to miss him. Them. All of them home together.
I've got the uniforms purchased. The school supplies ready to go. Backpacks packed, lunch boxes ready to be filled.
And I'm petrified.
What if he misses me? What if he gets frustrated and starts having a tantrum? What if his teacher can't understand him because of his speech difficulties? What if the other kids in his class can't? What if he's too shy, too slow to warm? What if he can't buy milk on the first day? That will derail him for days.
What if I cry when I put him on the bus? What if he cries?
Oh, Lord.
I think keeping myself busy is the least of my worries.
Friday, August 17, 2012
Remember That One Time Where I THOUGHT I Texted My Psych?
That one time I was wrong??
Yeah.
I texted my psychiatrist (because she's awesome and gave me her cell number for just these times) and said:
This is Kim. Can you please call me when you get a chance? I'm having some problems with my anxiety level and am leaving for vacation on Sunday.
Oh, and I used my first AND last name.
Then, about 20 minutes later I got this message:
I just wanted to let you know this came to the wrong person
OMG. And then I died a little and tried to hide. So I texted Diana who was embarrassed for me.
I texted back:
Ugh. Thanks & so sorry
I wanted to scream.
Then, later I received this message from that same wrong number:
No problem just wanted to make sure you got the help you need. Have a great vacation.
And then I died a lot.
So I copied it and sent it to Diana.
Who promised me she wasn't laughing. Which made me smile. And remember that I won't actually be seeing this random person I'd just told about my anxiety.
So now? I'm telling all of you.
You're welcome.
Yeah.
I texted my psychiatrist (because she's awesome and gave me her cell number for just these times) and said:
This is Kim. Can you please call me when you get a chance? I'm having some problems with my anxiety level and am leaving for vacation on Sunday.
Oh, and I used my first AND last name.
Then, about 20 minutes later I got this message:
I just wanted to let you know this came to the wrong person
OMG. And then I died a little and tried to hide. So I texted Diana who was embarrassed for me.
I texted back:
Ugh. Thanks & so sorry
I wanted to scream.
Then, later I received this message from that same wrong number:
No problem just wanted to make sure you got the help you need. Have a great vacation.
And then I died a lot.
So I copied it and sent it to Diana.
Who promised me she wasn't laughing. Which made me smile. And remember that I won't actually be seeing this random person I'd just told about my anxiety.
So now? I'm telling all of you.
You're welcome.
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
Growing Up
Violet left for Bible camp on Monday afternoon -- for a week. I was worried and didn't think she was ready to go, it turns out I was the one who wasn't ready. She was vibrating with excitement and anticipation for weeks before hand and couldn't even sit still the day we dropped her off.
And the camp? RUSTIC. I don't do rustic unless it's in a recipe name. Rustic vegetable soup? Check. Rust chicken and vegetables? Check. Rustic cabins? No thank you. But she was in love with the place, so I put an extra layer on her mattress and we left.
*sob*
I haven't heard from her since, and it's Wednesday. That's two nights without me tucking her in. Two days without me telling her to brush her teeth, her hair, get dressed, make her bed.
That means she's doing this all on her own. I think we're going to have to up her responsibilities when she gets home.
She's having a blast, I'm sure, with barely a minute to think about or miss us. Which I'm thankful for. And I know the camp is great - a dear friend went to the same camp for years and has told me what a blessing it was and she received many blessings by going to the camp. I'm hopeful it will provide Violet with the same. I want her to make lifelong friendships and grow in Christ while she's having fun and I know this is one major way to accomplish that.
But I still miss her. And I'm still going to bathe her the minute she gets home.
And the camp? RUSTIC. I don't do rustic unless it's in a recipe name. Rustic vegetable soup? Check. Rust chicken and vegetables? Check. Rustic cabins? No thank you. But she was in love with the place, so I put an extra layer on her mattress and we left.
*sob*
I haven't heard from her since, and it's Wednesday. That's two nights without me tucking her in. Two days without me telling her to brush her teeth, her hair, get dressed, make her bed.
That means she's doing this all on her own. I think we're going to have to up her responsibilities when she gets home.
She's having a blast, I'm sure, with barely a minute to think about or miss us. Which I'm thankful for. And I know the camp is great - a dear friend went to the same camp for years and has told me what a blessing it was and she received many blessings by going to the camp. I'm hopeful it will provide Violet with the same. I want her to make lifelong friendships and grow in Christ while she's having fun and I know this is one major way to accomplish that.
But I still miss her. And I'm still going to bathe her the minute she gets home.
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
And A Big "Thank You" To All Of You
Thank you all for the prayers and positive thoughts you sent our way when Violet was in the hospital. We felt them and they encouraged us in the truest sense.
On Monday night, Violet and I were laying in her hospital bed and her headache was terrible, she was crying and begging to go home. As I tried to explain why we couldn't go home, I grabbed my phone and started showing her all the FaceBook messages, the tweets from strangers and the text messages from near and far, all saying they were praying for her. She was even put on a prayer list in Alabama. Seeing all this, all these people praying for her really encouraged her. She looked at me and said, "All those people are talking to Jesus about me?"
Yes, yes they were.
So thank you.
As an update: Violet did not have viral meningitis, she has an virus called enterovirus that looks like and acts like meningitis. We spent 2 1/2 days at A.I Dupont Hospital for Children (who are amazing, like you wouldn't believe, just amazing.) getting her headache under control. It was so frightening, but I truly felt the prayers -- I stayed calm, so obviously God listened. I kept asking for strength and peace, and that is exactly what I received.
We are home now, my mom flew in and has been a huge help with the kids. Violet tires easily and has a residual headache, but you know kids -- you can't keep them quiet for long.
Once again, thank you all.
On Monday night, Violet and I were laying in her hospital bed and her headache was terrible, she was crying and begging to go home. As I tried to explain why we couldn't go home, I grabbed my phone and started showing her all the FaceBook messages, the tweets from strangers and the text messages from near and far, all saying they were praying for her. She was even put on a prayer list in Alabama. Seeing all this, all these people praying for her really encouraged her. She looked at me and said, "All those people are talking to Jesus about me?"
Yes, yes they were.
So thank you.
As an update: Violet did not have viral meningitis, she has an virus called enterovirus that looks like and acts like meningitis. We spent 2 1/2 days at A.I Dupont Hospital for Children (who are amazing, like you wouldn't believe, just amazing.) getting her headache under control. It was so frightening, but I truly felt the prayers -- I stayed calm, so obviously God listened. I kept asking for strength and peace, and that is exactly what I received.
We are home now, my mom flew in and has been a huge help with the kids. Violet tires easily and has a residual headache, but you know kids -- you can't keep them quiet for long.
Once again, thank you all.
Thursday, July 19, 2012
Six Weeks
Wait, isn't that the title of an old, dirty movie?
Moving on.
My sister in law, my brothers wife, has been in Michigan for four weeks. She'll be gone two more weeks. That's six weeks.
Ugh. I'm dying. She's gone, my niece is gone.
Kerry!! :)
When she was here we'd talk almost every day, do the 'pop in' deal with each other. She'd watch my kids and I'd get Caitlyn. Oh, how I adore that child. When she left she was just barely up on all fours. Now she's cruising furniture and has a tooth.
*sob*
Plus, ya know, Kerry is gone!
When we talked every day I'd get to bounce all my crazy ideas off her, and she'd bring me back to reality. She'd encourage me when I doubted myself. She'd remind me of how far I've come in two years.
As I'm writing this I'm not sure what I provided her. I do know that I adore her and love her with all my heart. Perhaps I haven't told her that enough or expressed it well.
What I do know is I'm missing her terribly and cannot wait until she comes home.
Moving on.
My sister in law, my brothers wife, has been in Michigan for four weeks. She'll be gone two more weeks. That's six weeks.
Ugh. I'm dying. She's gone, my niece is gone.
Kerry!! :)
When she was here we'd talk almost every day, do the 'pop in' deal with each other. She'd watch my kids and I'd get Caitlyn. Oh, how I adore that child. When she left she was just barely up on all fours. Now she's cruising furniture and has a tooth.
*sob*
Plus, ya know, Kerry is gone!
When we talked every day I'd get to bounce all my crazy ideas off her, and she'd bring me back to reality. She'd encourage me when I doubted myself. She'd remind me of how far I've come in two years.
As I'm writing this I'm not sure what I provided her. I do know that I adore her and love her with all my heart. Perhaps I haven't told her that enough or expressed it well.
What I do know is I'm missing her terribly and cannot wait until she comes home.
Friday, June 22, 2012
Just Because She Said It Doesn't Make It True!
Oh, how many times I've uttered, said, and yes yelled that phrase today.
"She said it's raining."
There's not a cloud in the sky.
"He said I don't have any toys."
The room is littered with toys.
"You can't eat breakfast."
As I place the bowls in front of them.
And then, Sarah came up with this one:
"Violet, you weren't born before me."
And Violet, went nuts.
Seriously?
Because, yes, Violet, we've been lying to you for the past nine years. Sarah is really your older sister. You're actually the younger sister.
*sigh*
"She said it's raining."
There's not a cloud in the sky.
"He said I don't have any toys."
The room is littered with toys.
"You can't eat breakfast."
As I place the bowls in front of them.
And then, Sarah came up with this one:
"Violet, you weren't born before me."
And Violet, went nuts.
Seriously?
Because, yes, Violet, we've been lying to you for the past nine years. Sarah is really your older sister. You're actually the younger sister.
*sigh*
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Yes, I Listened, Because She did First
If you're here visiting from Diana's place, welcome, but let me quickly tell you that she is a rock. Not me.
I was pretty out of it when we started talking -- my husband has known her since before she was born and we are good friends with her parents-- and I was still in the grips of a deep depression. She just accepted me as I was. She encouraged me to start blogging about my journey up to that point and what I was trying to do in order to get healthy.
She could have run screaming into the night. I might have.
She is a rock.
She would have done the exact same thing for me - and she has. So many times.
So my listening wasn't such a big deal. It was just me loving her the way she has always loved me.
I was pretty out of it when we started talking -- my husband has known her since before she was born and we are good friends with her parents-- and I was still in the grips of a deep depression. She just accepted me as I was. She encouraged me to start blogging about my journey up to that point and what I was trying to do in order to get healthy.
She could have run screaming into the night. I might have.
She is a rock.
She would have done the exact same thing for me - and she has. So many times.
So my listening wasn't such a big deal. It was just me loving her the way she has always loved me.
Monday, June 18, 2012
Another Year, Another Dance Recital. *happy sighs*
Violet and Sarah had their dance recital on Saturday and Sunday. And my two favorite dancers danced. I mean, my two favorite dancers besides my girls. Josh and Ryan danced -- be still my 39 year-year-old-mother-of-three-they-are-20-years-old heart - they danced.They graduated you see, so I don't get to see them anymore. That is very sad for me. You may remember that during the Holiday Magic Show of two years ago Ryan made me cry with his dancing.
Yeah, he's that good.
And I saw Josh dance in the first recital Violet danced in, four years ago. I kind of forgot about her when I saw him dance, he was that mesmerizing. I adore these two young men. Josh tap dances like nobodies business. We've watched Ryan grow from an awkward teenager to this amazingly graceful young man who gives me goosebumps when he dances.
So yes, four of my favorite dancers danced on Saturday and Sunday. And I was in heaven.
Now, I know many moms who dread the end of the year dance recital. And while I may grimace at the work required of me the week leading up the recital, I love the recitals.
Yes, we are crazy busy the week of the recital. We have a leotard rehearsal and a full dress rehearsal that last about two hours. But I get to see all the girls dance, from all the classes. I get to see all the babies - the tiny 4 year olds -- in their frills and bows do little ballet pirouettes. I get to see the big girls leap and twirl across the stage and watch my girls imagine the day they will do those amazing things with their bodies.
So I love it.
The day of the recital is tiring -- especially Sunday. But I still love it. ( Plus, I'm not nearly as tired as the staff of the dance studio, who this year put on four shows.) Saturday we're all geeked up for the recital, it's all new and the girls are excited. Sunday they are a bit more tired and so am I.
But I still love it.
They look so beautiful in their costumes, concentrating on a dance they've spent the year working on.
Backstage they giggle and laugh, share secrets, tells jokes and eat a ton of snacks while waiting for their dance. I don't see any fear. I see only fun and friends, talent and education.
And I love it so much.
The worst part of it all is doing the buns -- I like a good bun. So it takes me a while. And I like to be complimented on my bun. So it takes me even longer. But it's worth it when they look as good as they feel.
And every year I think, "This is the year that is the best. There is no way Miss Anna Marie can out do this." And then the next year I find myself thinking the exact same thing. She does know how to put on a show.
Yeah, he's that good.
And I saw Josh dance in the first recital Violet danced in, four years ago. I kind of forgot about her when I saw him dance, he was that mesmerizing. I adore these two young men. Josh tap dances like nobodies business. We've watched Ryan grow from an awkward teenager to this amazingly graceful young man who gives me goosebumps when he dances.
So yes, four of my favorite dancers danced on Saturday and Sunday. And I was in heaven.
Now, I know many moms who dread the end of the year dance recital. And while I may grimace at the work required of me the week leading up the recital, I love the recitals.
Yes, we are crazy busy the week of the recital. We have a leotard rehearsal and a full dress rehearsal that last about two hours. But I get to see all the girls dance, from all the classes. I get to see all the babies - the tiny 4 year olds -- in their frills and bows do little ballet pirouettes. I get to see the big girls leap and twirl across the stage and watch my girls imagine the day they will do those amazing things with their bodies.
So I love it.
The day of the recital is tiring -- especially Sunday. But I still love it. ( Plus, I'm not nearly as tired as the staff of the dance studio, who this year put on four shows.) Saturday we're all geeked up for the recital, it's all new and the girls are excited. Sunday they are a bit more tired and so am I.
But I still love it.
They look so beautiful in their costumes, concentrating on a dance they've spent the year working on.
Backstage they giggle and laugh, share secrets, tells jokes and eat a ton of snacks while waiting for their dance. I don't see any fear. I see only fun and friends, talent and education.
And I love it so much.
The worst part of it all is doing the buns -- I like a good bun. So it takes me a while. And I like to be complimented on my bun. So it takes me even longer. But it's worth it when they look as good as they feel.
And every year I think, "This is the year that is the best. There is no way Miss Anna Marie can out do this." And then the next year I find myself thinking the exact same thing. She does know how to put on a show.
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
Target and Kids: It's An Odessy
I took the kids to Target this morning with a very short list of things I needed:
*shorts for me
*play dress for Sarah
*cat food
*q-tips
*night gown for me
*shirt for me
*thermometer covers
I stuck to my list and it was easy peasy.
*snort*
I had to try on five pairs of shorts, two pairs of Capri's and three shirts. Therefore we had 'dressing room conversation.' If you've never had 'dressing room conversation,' it goes a little like this:
Mom, what are those dimples on the back of your thighs?
~ I have no dimples. Look away. Liar liar pants on fire. (glaring at child)
Mommy, what is that?
~ what?
All that squishy stuff above the button of your shorts.
~Nothing. These shorts lie. I just lost 15 pounds. Your mom is HOT. These shorts lie. Moving on . . .(more glaring)
Mommy, why can I see your bra when you put on your shirt?
~Because it's too thin.
Why is it too thin?
~We're moving on again . . .
Mommy what is that? (pointing to my tattoo, which is usually hidden.) (for the record, I have no problem with tattoo's, on other people. I don't like explaining mine to my kids.)
~We'll discuss it when you're older. Why are you in here?
Ohhh, those shorts are tooooo short. I can see those dimples again.
~And again, I call you a liar. There are no dimples. (throwing shorts in corner. Using very special words in my head)
Finally, shorts and and a pair of Capri's are found, two shirts that are not tissue thin are thrown in the cart. We rush into the lingerie department.
Oh, please. What in the world was I thinking??? I have three children with me. It doesn't matter that I just want an overs sized t-shirt as night gown. I have to walk through bras, thongg, sexy night gowns, etc. John's eyes are roving everywhere and his hands are reaching for satin, lace and brocade. Obviously men are born to enjoy this. I'm torn between horror and complete amusement.
Sarah is happily jumping in between racks, making mazes of Spanx and panty hose. Violet is eye-ing the lace bra's and I can see her mind racing, wondering when she'll be old enough for that. As she reaches for one I put out a burst of speed and race us past them to the modest pajama's. The three of them are bickering, laughing, and revving a car engine the entire time this is going on. Generally letting the entire store know that my children are here, so watch out!
I'm reduced to begging after our 'dressing room conversation.' So I'm saying things like, "What did I ask of you? To give me this time. It's been 20 minutes. About 10 minutes too long. Please. Just stop. Let me grab this. Stop it. Knock it off. Please. Did you hear me?" At one point I say, "This is supposed to be Mommy Time. Yeah. Pretty lousy Mommy Time." And I hear a lady start to laugh two rows over.
Eventually I grab a night gown - of some unknown color, race through the kids clothes and find nothing for Sarah. But I've completed my list and we've only been in the store for 30 minutes.
30 minutes.
Success! Glory!
But I still didn't get out of there under 100 dollars.
*shorts for me
*play dress for Sarah
*cat food
*q-tips
*night gown for me
*shirt for me
*thermometer covers
I stuck to my list and it was easy peasy.
*snort*
I had to try on five pairs of shorts, two pairs of Capri's and three shirts. Therefore we had 'dressing room conversation.' If you've never had 'dressing room conversation,' it goes a little like this:
Mom, what are those dimples on the back of your thighs?
~ I have no dimples. Look away. Liar liar pants on fire. (glaring at child)
Mommy, what is that?
~ what?
All that squishy stuff above the button of your shorts.
~Nothing. These shorts lie. I just lost 15 pounds. Your mom is HOT. These shorts lie. Moving on . . .(more glaring)
Mommy, why can I see your bra when you put on your shirt?
~Because it's too thin.
Why is it too thin?
~We're moving on again . . .
Mommy what is that? (pointing to my tattoo, which is usually hidden.) (for the record, I have no problem with tattoo's, on other people. I don't like explaining mine to my kids.)
~We'll discuss it when you're older. Why are you in here?
Ohhh, those shorts are tooooo short. I can see those dimples again.
~And again, I call you a liar. There are no dimples. (throwing shorts in corner. Using very special words in my head)
Finally, shorts and and a pair of Capri's are found, two shirts that are not tissue thin are thrown in the cart. We rush into the lingerie department.
Oh, please. What in the world was I thinking??? I have three children with me. It doesn't matter that I just want an overs sized t-shirt as night gown. I have to walk through bras, thongg, sexy night gowns, etc. John's eyes are roving everywhere and his hands are reaching for satin, lace and brocade. Obviously men are born to enjoy this. I'm torn between horror and complete amusement.
Sarah is happily jumping in between racks, making mazes of Spanx and panty hose. Violet is eye-ing the lace bra's and I can see her mind racing, wondering when she'll be old enough for that. As she reaches for one I put out a burst of speed and race us past them to the modest pajama's. The three of them are bickering, laughing, and revving a car engine the entire time this is going on. Generally letting the entire store know that my children are here, so watch out!
I'm reduced to begging after our 'dressing room conversation.' So I'm saying things like, "What did I ask of you? To give me this time. It's been 20 minutes. About 10 minutes too long. Please. Just stop. Let me grab this. Stop it. Knock it off. Please. Did you hear me?" At one point I say, "This is supposed to be Mommy Time. Yeah. Pretty lousy Mommy Time." And I hear a lady start to laugh two rows over.
Eventually I grab a night gown - of some unknown color, race through the kids clothes and find nothing for Sarah. But I've completed my list and we've only been in the store for 30 minutes.
30 minutes.
Success! Glory!
But I still didn't get out of there under 100 dollars.
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Randomness . . .
~ "Perfectness" is not a word. I know this. Just so you know.
~I'm making The Pioneer Woman's Crashed Hot Potato's for dinner. And I die of taste perfectness.
~ We watched The Smurfs today. They mention a smurf named "Passive Aggressive Smurf." I wanted to post on my FB status: There is a Passive Aggressive Smurf. I know this Smurf well.: But then I wondered, does that make me passive aggressive?
~ My husband is wonderful. He puts family before everything.
~My children are watching The Fresh Beat Band and the old Marina is on. I much prefer her. Not fair to the new one. Eh.
~ I allowed my children to play in the mud today -- as in IN the mud. Dump it on their head. Dig in it. Mash it in their fingernails. The backyard is a mud-hole of funness. Or perfectness. Your choice.
~ I got to talk on the phone with Diana today for the first time in like a week -- I know. It was great to reconnect and giggle. (Because we are really 12, we giggle. )
~ Swim practice starts tomorrow. This means that for the next 3 weeks there is a hideous overlap of dance/softball/swim and I become 'that' mom who has over scheduled her children. Also, there is massive guilt at not having scheduled John into any of the above. Perfectness.
~ What's your randomness?
~ Wait. Spell check just totally let perfectness by. So . . . it is a word??
~I'm making The Pioneer Woman's Crashed Hot Potato's for dinner. And I die of taste perfectness.
~ We watched The Smurfs today. They mention a smurf named "Passive Aggressive Smurf." I wanted to post on my FB status: There is a Passive Aggressive Smurf. I know this Smurf well.: But then I wondered, does that make me passive aggressive?
~ My husband is wonderful. He puts family before everything.
~My children are watching The Fresh Beat Band and the old Marina is on. I much prefer her. Not fair to the new one. Eh.
~ I allowed my children to play in the mud today -- as in IN the mud. Dump it on their head. Dig in it. Mash it in their fingernails. The backyard is a mud-hole of funness. Or perfectness. Your choice.
~ I got to talk on the phone with Diana today for the first time in like a week -- I know. It was great to reconnect and giggle. (Because we are really 12, we giggle. )
~ Swim practice starts tomorrow. This means that for the next 3 weeks there is a hideous overlap of dance/softball/swim and I become 'that' mom who has over scheduled her children. Also, there is massive guilt at not having scheduled John into any of the above. Perfectness.
~ What's your randomness?
~ Wait. Spell check just totally let perfectness by. So . . . it is a word??
Wednesday, May 2, 2012
Run, John, Run!
You may know that my John is a bit stubborn. Just a bit.
Last year when he did a session of soccer skills in the spring it was more like Daddy and Mommy doing soccer skills, red light green light etc and John sucking his fingers. But he insisted that he wanted to play this year.
So we signed him up.
And the first practice, which was labeled a 'meet and greet,' I didn't bring a soccer ball for him. He stood in the middle of the field . . . sucking his fingers. Not even Sarah, who is on the same team could get him to move. Another mom suggested that perhaps golf was his sport.
Excellent.
The next practice/game I was so nervous. Had I just invested over a hundred dollars for him to stand in the middle of the field and suck his fingers for six weeks?
Well, the first practice/game he jumped right in! He kicked the ball, he shot on goal, he didn't care when he was goalie and was scored on.
Every time a new thing happened I thought, "This is it. This is when he freezes and the fingers go in the mouth." But no!
This past Saturday he totally got into it. He got right into the pack, kicking at the ball, trying to steal it away, running at the front of the group.
At one point he actually stole the ball, took it on a long, long run from the center of the field right down the middle and shot on goal!
Our goal.
The goalie stopped it.
The most wonderful coach ruffled his hair and said, "Great running, John! Way to kick that ball!"
They are after all just five and six.
Well done, John!
Last year when he did a session of soccer skills in the spring it was more like Daddy and Mommy doing soccer skills, red light green light etc and John sucking his fingers. But he insisted that he wanted to play this year.
So we signed him up.
And the first practice, which was labeled a 'meet and greet,' I didn't bring a soccer ball for him. He stood in the middle of the field . . . sucking his fingers. Not even Sarah, who is on the same team could get him to move. Another mom suggested that perhaps golf was his sport.
Excellent.
The next practice/game I was so nervous. Had I just invested over a hundred dollars for him to stand in the middle of the field and suck his fingers for six weeks?
Well, the first practice/game he jumped right in! He kicked the ball, he shot on goal, he didn't care when he was goalie and was scored on.
Every time a new thing happened I thought, "This is it. This is when he freezes and the fingers go in the mouth." But no!
This past Saturday he totally got into it. He got right into the pack, kicking at the ball, trying to steal it away, running at the front of the group.
At one point he actually stole the ball, took it on a long, long run from the center of the field right down the middle and shot on goal!
Our goal.
The goalie stopped it.
The most wonderful coach ruffled his hair and said, "Great running, John! Way to kick that ball!"
They are after all just five and six.
Well done, John!
Monday, April 9, 2012
Thank You, Easter Bunny! (For real!)
So, in this post from a year ago I tell you how Violet was afraid of the Easter Bunny and of course Sarah became afraid of him as well. "He" hid the eggs outside and left the Easter baskets on the porch because entering the house was unacceptable. When that wasn't OK, I told them that I did the Easter baskets and The Bunny hid the eggs. All was well.
So I was a little nervous this year. I avoided taking them to the mall, where The Bunny was, and avoided talking about it. Waiting instead for them to bring it up, hoping this was the right parenting decision.
Nobody talked.
On Good Friday we went to the Philadelphia Zoo (where I bought 6 tickets for 5 adults. Can you say FAIL?).
Nobody talked about The Bunny.
We started coloring Easter eggs and John asked when I was going to hide them. Sarah very calmly replied, "Oh, the Easter Bunny hides the eggs, Mommy does the baskets."
And then the three of them had a discussion about how Sarah and Violet used to be afraid of the Easter Bunny and how he had to hide the eggs outside but now they were big and he could hide them inside because that would fun.
I stood there and pretended to be involved in the dissolving of little tablets of color.
John listened and chimed in when he could. And was totally unfazed by the fact that both his sisters were afraid by this bunny but now were not. He made sure he understood the logistics, then moved on.
We dyed eggs with minimal breakage and no spilling of vinegar.
They ran off and I cleaned up, watching my growing -up children play.
They're not afraid of a giant rodent come into our house at night and hide hard boiled eggs that we've dyed.
Huh.
All is well. :)
So I was a little nervous this year. I avoided taking them to the mall, where The Bunny was, and avoided talking about it. Waiting instead for them to bring it up, hoping this was the right parenting decision.
Nobody talked.
On Good Friday we went to the Philadelphia Zoo (where I bought 6 tickets for 5 adults. Can you say FAIL?).
Nobody talked about The Bunny.
We started coloring Easter eggs and John asked when I was going to hide them. Sarah very calmly replied, "Oh, the Easter Bunny hides the eggs, Mommy does the baskets."
And then the three of them had a discussion about how Sarah and Violet used to be afraid of the Easter Bunny and how he had to hide the eggs outside but now they were big and he could hide them inside because that would fun.
I stood there and pretended to be involved in the dissolving of little tablets of color.
John listened and chimed in when he could. And was totally unfazed by the fact that both his sisters were afraid by this bunny but now were not. He made sure he understood the logistics, then moved on.
We dyed eggs with minimal breakage and no spilling of vinegar.
They ran off and I cleaned up, watching my growing -up children play.
They're not afraid of a giant rodent come into our house at night and hide hard boiled eggs that we've dyed.
Huh.
All is well. :)
Saturday, March 24, 2012
Because I Was Judgey . . .
I've mentioned before that I was all judgey about bras and third graders here.
And then here I mentioned how God has a sense of humor because Violet needs one.
Well today we are going to buy one.
It's true.
My first born baby and I are going to the mall and shopping for a bra. No, it's not going to be the shiny blue padded one mentioned back up there (gag), but we're still having to buy a bra.
I'm making a day of it. Going to lunch, shopping for some summer and church clothes with her. We're going to the Christiana Mall instead of the Concord Mall -- and the Christiana Mall is the big mall. It has all the good stores. Justice and Gap Kids. (Ann Taylor and Loft).
So. It's happening. She's over the moon excited. When I told her we were going she gave a fist pumped and yelled, "Yessssss!"
Hold me close.
And then here I mentioned how God has a sense of humor because Violet needs one.
Well today we are going to buy one.
It's true.
My first born baby and I are going to the mall and shopping for a bra. No, it's not going to be the shiny blue padded one mentioned back up there (gag), but we're still having to buy a bra.
I'm making a day of it. Going to lunch, shopping for some summer and church clothes with her. We're going to the Christiana Mall instead of the Concord Mall -- and the Christiana Mall is the big mall. It has all the good stores. Justice and Gap Kids. (Ann Taylor and Loft).
So. It's happening. She's over the moon excited. When I told her we were going she gave a fist pumped and yelled, "Yessssss!"
Hold me close.
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Brain Overload
Have you ever been so busy you dream your completing your tasks?
Yeah. That's how busy I am this week.
I've managed to over schedule myself so much that I don't have time to think. Plus the kids activities have to get done too - and it's skating night tomorrow night and a project is due. Of course.
And it's gorgeous outside so who wants to be inside getting anything done? Not me, that's for sure.
So while I'm running around like a mad woman, please don't leave me :) I'll be back soon. I know you're totally missing me. I mean, who wouldn't?? I'm all witty and fun, insightful and deep. I know that I mesmerize you with my posts. I mean, duh :)
So, if you're here and completely missing me, take a look around. Look at my side bar where it says "Must Reads" and get your fix there.
Again, I'll be back, probably this weekend.
Yeah. That's how busy I am this week.
I've managed to over schedule myself so much that I don't have time to think. Plus the kids activities have to get done too - and it's skating night tomorrow night and a project is due. Of course.
And it's gorgeous outside so who wants to be inside getting anything done? Not me, that's for sure.
So while I'm running around like a mad woman, please don't leave me :) I'll be back soon. I know you're totally missing me. I mean, who wouldn't?? I'm all witty and fun, insightful and deep. I know that I mesmerize you with my posts. I mean, duh :)
So, if you're here and completely missing me, take a look around. Look at my side bar where it says "Must Reads" and get your fix there.
Again, I'll be back, probably this weekend.
Monday, March 12, 2012
The 5K Plus One More
(First, Nancy? You're husband was the greatest coach on Sunday. Thank you for letting me borrow him.)
So Sunday was my 5k. I've been training for it since January - actually training for it. I even managed to pull out a 3 mile run the Thursday before the race (more on that later) so I thought, "I think maybe I can do this again."
Uhm, well, erm. No.
There were hills, people. Hills.
The course went through the city, along the river, up and down some hills. Which meant I had to come back up those *insert special words* hills. I'm sure it was a pretty run, but since I was looking at the pavement the entire time I really have no idea.
Coming down the first set of hills, just after we started, I panicked in my head. My oh so steady pace must faltered because my running partner, Nick (who was a so amazing for me through this) said, "just set back into them. Nice and easy down hill." To which I replied, in a whiny voice, "But I have to come back up these hills!!"
So my inner dialogue for this race was a lot of : OMG I cannot pull this out. What was I thinking. The track I trained on was flat. Why didn't I think of that when I read the route for this? Didn't it say "great for beginners"? Aren't I a beginner? Was that a 7 year old who just passed me? I cannot believe that I am walking. This sucks. Wait. Did that 7 year old just pass me going the other way. Oh it's on."
But I had to walk one (two?) more times because of those *special* hills. Nick encouraged me so much and got me the last 1/4 mile in an ugly jog crossing the finishing line at 44:22. Poor guy never broke a sweat.
So, I didn't make my goal. I didn't run the entire race. But after I get done here I'm finding a flat race along the river front and trying again.
Now, the Plus One More part . . .
I did do 3 miles on Thursday. And it went like this:
OUT LOUD
I can't do this, Dear Lord I cannot do this. I've got a mile and a half left.
*faltering steps, shuffling jogs*
~Eye of the Tiger comes on~
That's RIGHT I am the eye of the tiger. Me.
I got this.
Jog Jog Jog
Oh, God, I can't do this. 2 miles in.
*More faltering steps, calf cramp. Tears. Ugly tears.*
How will I do this on Sunday??
~Oh Micki~ comes on
Oh Micki I'M so fine! I own this road. This is my road.
(still, all of this? OUT LOUD)
~More ugliness at 2 1/2~
*Pink's You're a Rock Star comes on*
That's right. I'm a rock star. I got my rock moves. This is my race. I own it. I trained for this.
And I pull out 3.2 miles. Tears and all.
Now the trick is to do this during an actual 5K - without the need to talk to myself or cry halfway through it. :)
Who's with me? (on a flat course. A very flat course. Also? I've found the race/races. So . . .)
So Sunday was my 5k. I've been training for it since January - actually training for it. I even managed to pull out a 3 mile run the Thursday before the race (more on that later) so I thought, "I think maybe I can do this again."
Uhm, well, erm. No.
There were hills, people. Hills.
The course went through the city, along the river, up and down some hills. Which meant I had to come back up those *insert special words* hills. I'm sure it was a pretty run, but since I was looking at the pavement the entire time I really have no idea.
Coming down the first set of hills, just after we started, I panicked in my head. My oh so steady pace must faltered because my running partner, Nick (who was a so amazing for me through this) said, "just set back into them. Nice and easy down hill." To which I replied, in a whiny voice, "But I have to come back up these hills!!"
So my inner dialogue for this race was a lot of : OMG I cannot pull this out. What was I thinking. The track I trained on was flat. Why didn't I think of that when I read the route for this? Didn't it say "great for beginners"? Aren't I a beginner? Was that a 7 year old who just passed me? I cannot believe that I am walking. This sucks. Wait. Did that 7 year old just pass me going the other way. Oh it's on."
But I had to walk one (two?) more times because of those *special* hills. Nick encouraged me so much and got me the last 1/4 mile in an ugly jog crossing the finishing line at 44:22. Poor guy never broke a sweat.
So, I didn't make my goal. I didn't run the entire race. But after I get done here I'm finding a flat race along the river front and trying again.
Now, the Plus One More part . . .
I did do 3 miles on Thursday. And it went like this:
OUT LOUD
I can't do this, Dear Lord I cannot do this. I've got a mile and a half left.
*faltering steps, shuffling jogs*
~Eye of the Tiger comes on~
That's RIGHT I am the eye of the tiger. Me.
I got this.
Jog Jog Jog
Oh, God, I can't do this. 2 miles in.
*More faltering steps, calf cramp. Tears. Ugly tears.*
How will I do this on Sunday??
~Oh Micki~ comes on
Oh Micki I'M so fine! I own this road. This is my road.
(still, all of this? OUT LOUD)
~More ugliness at 2 1/2~
*Pink's You're a Rock Star comes on*
That's right. I'm a rock star. I got my rock moves. This is my race. I own it. I trained for this.
And I pull out 3.2 miles. Tears and all.
Now the trick is to do this during an actual 5K - without the need to talk to myself or cry halfway through it. :)
Who's with me? (on a flat course. A very flat course. Also? I've found the race/races. So . . .)
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Diary Of A Mad Fat Girl: Book Review
This is a paid review by Blogher. However, all opinions are my own.
I.love.this.book.
I read it twice. It was that good.
In Diary of Mad Fat Woman, by Stephanie McAfee, Ace Jones is the kind of girl you want to be your best friend. You totally want to hang out with her, have a drink, eat a pizza and have some good girl talk. You know she is the kind of woman who has your back, is loyal and fun.
This story, of Ace and her best friends Lily, Chloe, Mason and Ethan Allen (love it!) is a madcap story of intrigue, small town politics, clandestine affairs and long hidden secrets. It's a story of love, friendship and even of a woman rediscovering herself.
I adored this book, as I said. I laughed out loud - snorted - and giggled like a teenager. I was outraged in parts and couldn't wait to find out the big secret (which I totally didn't figure out on my own).
Of the book reviews I've done, this is by far my favorite and I'm telling you, read it. You won't be disappointed. If you want to read more about Diary Of A Mad Fat Woman and see discussions about it - they'll be a riot - click on this link: http://www.blogher.com/bookclub/now-reading-diary-mad-fat-girl
This is a paid review by BlogHer, but all opionions are my own.
I.love.this.book.
I read it twice. It was that good.
In Diary of Mad Fat Woman, by Stephanie McAfee, Ace Jones is the kind of girl you want to be your best friend. You totally want to hang out with her, have a drink, eat a pizza and have some good girl talk. You know she is the kind of woman who has your back, is loyal and fun.
This story, of Ace and her best friends Lily, Chloe, Mason and Ethan Allen (love it!) is a madcap story of intrigue, small town politics, clandestine affairs and long hidden secrets. It's a story of love, friendship and even of a woman rediscovering herself.
I adored this book, as I said. I laughed out loud - snorted - and giggled like a teenager. I was outraged in parts and couldn't wait to find out the big secret (which I totally didn't figure out on my own).
Of the book reviews I've done, this is by far my favorite and I'm telling you, read it. You won't be disappointed. If you want to read more about Diary Of A Mad Fat Woman and see discussions about it - they'll be a riot - click on this link: http://www.blogher.com/bookclub/now-reading-diary-mad-fat-girl
This is a paid review by BlogHer, but all opionions are my own.
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