Grief

Grief truly is this unexpressed love that no longer has an outlet. It's this flow of adoring energy that gets stopped up somewhere alongside that lump in your throat; you know, the one that triggers your tears.

But I must be stronger than that. 

Pushes the tears away.

But I can't let them see me cry right now. 

Swallows back the sobs.

It wasn't a choice I was in control over. 

Smiles softly to those at my side.

Stopped up love is grief. Stopped up grief is a killer.

Parenting moments

Some of my best and worst moments of parenthood are those spent with a fevered, whimpering, sweaty, sobbing, achy child in my arms.

Best, not because I am some sadist who thrives on seeing my children bed-ridden and weak from some ailment. Best because there is a nurturing thread that becomes tied between the two once again...an umbilical replacement so to speak...

2 years, 5 years, 9 years, 13 years, 20 years...it doesn't matter the age...soft whispers in the throws of restless sleep and fevered dreams of "I'm glad you're here, mommy" moments... gentle strokes to their brow to ease them to sleep while dozy, glossy eyes look at you as though deep pools of love...

I, myself, remember the comfort, the safety, the security I felt as I lay with my fevered head on my father's lap as his strong calloused farmer hands would gently stroke my forehead or as he would gently lift me off the couch, carrying me to the comfort of my own bed...

Worst moments...helplessly holding back your child's hair as their little body wretches, wiping down their hot faces with a cool cloth as fever-induced dreams cause whimpers and tears, as aches and pains you can't take away escape their half conscious lips...soft lullabies sung, gentle music playing, gentle stories to lure sleep to come...frail giggles as you try to tell a joke just to bring some joy, however fleeting, to their little bodies...

Parenthood has been one of the greatest, heart-wrenching, exhausting, most rewarding, joyful moments of raw emotion of my life...  ups and downs, joys and heart breaks...it is my greatest joy...

Now, as I type this, watching my beautiful Jellybean's shallow, fevered breaths finally sleep after a trying weekend of sickness...I will close my computer, lay beside her, maybe close my own eyes and pray that when she wakes this sickness will have left her...

Ramblings of a married single-mom

I heard you..."say what!", you all say... what kind of oxymoronical mumbo jumbo is this girl spewing...?  I know; I know...but it is true...this past week and almost every second week for the last 3 1/2 years (once 7 weeks in a row) I was and will continue to be a married single-mom...in that I am married but am singular in the parenting...my husband goes to the end of the earth...ok, you got me, the end of our province...the top end...where internet is a concept and cell towers are tree tops...and communication is zilch...

Some people think it is difficult and, at first, it is...not having that extra set of hands but who am I kidding, he is never home even when he is here (he is, after all, an incredibly "important" person) and i  have gotten into a groove of sorts. Now I am "used" to his being gone (I enjoy the break) but find that the biggest hindrance for the kids and I is I need to be cloned...studying, basketball games, drum lessons, work, cleaning, cooking meals...I need a clone.....Ha ha ha

Thankfully, my children are old enough to help with throwing a load of laundry in and folding it...it may not be folded the way I would do it but it is folded and they have helped and that, my friends, is what is important to me. They are not limited to helping out with laundry...that was just an example that was in the forefront of my brain given that I have a mini mount laundruvious in the midst of activation in my basement as I type.

Having a meal plan has helped - only a lot...and I do admit to the Tuesday work until 4 pm, basketball game until 5 pm, drum lessons at 6:30 pm McDonalds run for supper...I am not ashamed...there is no 'S' on my chest...weeks that B.D. is gone we tend to eat a lot of things like grilled cheese, tomato soup, toads-in-a-hole...

But do you know what has really helped...not expecting as much...I have lowered my expectations...If we go to bed at night and there is still a growling mess in the kitchen I have learned to be ok with that...it will be cleaned when we get home the next day or in the morning before school/work...

The biggest thing though is the kids and I work together...we will routinely have mini meetings to say "ok, this is what needs done and by when and how are we breaking this up?". We also make sure that we make time to just have snuggle time with each other. I know it is hard on my kids when their dad is gone...extra snuggle time eases that burden for them ever so slightly...

Anyway, these are simply the ramblings of a married single-mom for today...

Pat Dry

I love funny stories...and I know you do as well. I am breaking my silence with my regularly irregular post as of late (not much longer and I will be done school and things may get a little more regular around here) but I digress...You DO NOT want to miss reading this pre-teen antedote.

Last night Jellybean was getting ready for bed and was washing her face with her cleanser. I, in my bedroom, heard a strange slapping noise and poked my head out to explore the noise further. Much to the amusement of my ticklish funny bone, I saw Jellybean slapping her checks.

A strange look graced my face and I asked her with bewilderment why on earth she was not using the towel that hung upon the towel rack a mere two feet away. She quizically looked at me and replied, grabbing her jar of cleanser to show me, "Mom, it says right here to pat dry..."

Dear Lord, I have not laughed that hard in a long time; in fact, I fell to my knees, gasping for breath, struggling to finally spit out why I was laughing. When Jellybean heard why she responded herself in a way much similar to mine...

This is wedding story material...for certain.

Train Whistles Blowing Create a Long, Lonely Sound

I have, over time and circumstances, allowed wedges to be driven between me and my children. I have had expectations put on me and if I don't meet them, I find myself in the midst of hours long lectures and drug into meeting after meeting at "the church" to modify my behaviour. Being continually beat down like that caused me to put up walls with everyone, including my kids, and I held them close but at just enough of a distance that they weren't pulled in as close as they could have been. (I'm just being transparent here). As a mom, there have been hurts and I think I just shoved them down and smiled like all was well...all while holding my children close enough that they knew how much I love them but not close enough that I could be hurt by them to the most possible depths. (not entirely logical is it?)

I know I need to soften those walls. I need my babies as much as they need me...I'm just completely afraid of facing the rejection again...

Tonight, I lay down on the top of Bug's blankets as he struggled to sleep and began to rub his forehead. The instant I began to rub his forehead, I began to sing some of the songs my children loved to hear when I would tuck them in. I cried as I struggled to remember the words to one of those songs, as I thought of lost moments...

The thing with revelation is you have a choice...stay where you have been or move to where you should be. I choose to move to where I should be...to lessen the gap that I have put between my children and I.

Do you know how I started?

"Train whistles blowing
Make a sleepy noise
Underneath their blankets,
Go all the girls and boys
Rocking, roling, riding
Out along the bay
All bound for morning town
Many miles away
Somewhere there is sunshine
Somewhere there is day
Somewhere there's a morning town
Many miles away
Jellybean's at the engine
Rush rings the bell
Bug swings the lantern
To show that all is well
Somewhere there is sunshine
Somewhere there is day
Somewhere there's a morning town
Many miles away"

We made the song ours by inserting our names...and tonight, I made it ours again...somewhere there is sunshine and I found that place the moment I let the son shine on that darkness and fill it with transcendent light!

Lesson Learned

So, Monday afternoon I looked into my 8 year old son's room and saw that my numerous requests for him to clean his room had not reached his ears. 

Lessons need to be learned and threats needed to have follow through.  While Bug was at school, this mama took a box of big, black garbage bags and cleaned his room her way. He may or may not be thrilled with what he begins to discover are no longer in his possession.

I think the lesson has been learned because the remaining toys have been picked up since AND...his bed has been made every morning before school...

And, side note, Jellybean has been making her bed each morning before school too...Lesson learned x 2!!!  Woo hoo!

Today's fond memory

brought to you in part by Scrabble and Pictionary...

My husband despises board games...loathes them even and so, it is an extremely rare event that we happen to play one as a family - very rare indeed.

As a child, I played Scrabble with my granny as often as I could. She would pull out her worn and well utilized Scrabble board, a worn down pencil (usually sharpened with a paring knife), a piece of looseleaf, neatly folded and a dictionary for challenges and we would play and laugh and snack. We both won. Granny with points and me, well, I won because I loved the time I was able to have spent with her, looking into her sparkling blue eyes full of love and mercy.

Fast forward several years to a life of children of my own and I think to some of the rare moments P.B., Jay and I convinced B.D. to play a rousing game of Pictionary with us.  The giggles, the tears from laughing so incredibly hard at our drawng or lack thereof and our guessing and lack thereof...

Simple acts. Great memories with my kiddos...

(This post is not endorsed by Scrabble nor Pictionary as they don't know me from Adam; these are simply the games my memories are associated with. That is all. GRIN)

I'd like to kiss

Yeppers, you heard me. I'd like to k.i..s.s... keep it simple silly...

I've thought a lot about simple living...

not in the trendy sort of way...just simple.

Typing this, I am looking at my bedroom and I see clutter on my dresser, on my night stand, on B.D.'s dresser and nightstand and a whole heap of clothes on my side of the floor that are screaming to be folded and put away. I have not had time... I am certain there are clothes in that heap that I would probably never remember I had should they disappear. I am also certain that in the midst of the dresser clutter are items I have forgotten we have.

What does this mean? Well, a few things. It means
1. I have too many clothes.
2. If I don't know I have it and I need it I will probably go buy another and waste money purchasing something I all ready own.
3. I have not made it an importance to care for these items
4. My children have too many clothes (thankful for hand-me-downs but I could always donate the excess)
5. I am wasting time doing laundry on clothes that may or may not have been worn or simply because of the volume of clothing period.

What does this mean?
1. I need to sort through our belongs, organizing as I go.
2. I need to have an idea of what my children, myself, and B.D. need to keep for clothes (let's say a list as to what our ideal wardrobes would be) to know what needs to be donated, tossed, folded/hung up or purchased.

What would it feel/look like when this happens?
Nirvana? Euphoric? Perhaps.

Aside from school, working on achieving what I stated in my last post about legacies and all the other things I do need to do in life...this is one of the things I will be whittling away at...bit by bit...it will be a process but, every step forward is a step forward, right?

I think I shall begin with the clothes situation...and then, perhaps, toys...I wish for our home to be a place of serenity and peace for us and those that happen to cross the threshold into our lives. I see the chaotic state of our lives in just about every area of our home (closets, cupboards, pantries, even our fridge). It is time to K.I.S.S it goodbye!

I'll leave a legacy

I have been thinking a lot about legacies lately, since Wednesday to be exact, and about how we will all leave one when we die. (Why the heavy thought process? My dear uncle, who has been battling with cancer, passed away at 5:20 pm on Wed April 4 and the legacy he left...well, I will get into that later.)

It doesn't matter what we do, good or bad, we will leave a legacy behind. Dictionary.com defines legacy, in part, as "anything handed down from the past, as from an ancestor or predecessor".

What will my legacy be? How will I live my life that my character, actions, courage, heart, or lack there of will be the memory, the character that my children, grandchildren know me as?

My grandfather has a legacy, as does my grandmother, of nobel character, strong work uethic and immense love...a legacy my children, who have never met them, have heard and learned through stories and memories from numerous family members.  My uncle, who just passed away, has left a legacy, to me, and I am certain others, of a man who, inspite of terrible odds, inspite of a death sentence being placed on his shoulders, never stopped fighting, never gave up his will to live and, while he still had the strength to do so, never quit working. He did not outwardly mope about his fate but grabbed hold of moments. He didn't say "I only have so long to live"; he simply grabbed hold of his family and lived1 - fishing, golfing, laughing, hugging, enjoying...

We live in a day and age where technology and self-importance takes precident over quality time, over relationships. We feel wo important hearing a notification come in that someone has responded to our senseless or silly facebook status, or alarming us to an email or text to the point where I see fathers and mothers interupt hugs or family dinners to check, with baited breath, that they are needed, important or noticed - all while dismissing the one on their lap, at their side, or their dinner table who thinks they are all those things and more.

Will my children remember me as someone who made them feel important or as someone who got a lot of texts or spent a lot of time on my computer? Will they remember me as I do my grandparents, as I think of my father or other key people in my life (especially my childhood)? (Ironic that I empty my thought process about this on my laptop. don't you think?)

Technology, while great in aspects, is robbing us of relationship, of ability to communicate with those that are closest to us. Yes, it has given us the ability to correspond so much easier with people we love who aren't so near (in my case, to keep in touch with my dear cousins in Norway or Italy and to keep up with the incredible tales my cousin writes here or. personally, here. It also helps me to keep in touch with you all and make new and dear friends but, should it take priority over snuggling with a child wrapped in a fuzzy blanket learning all about giant squids or sharing a playground story or classroom antics or even something as simple as a walk along the river, watching the ice break up and sharing a peanut butter sandwich - uniterrupted by the buzzes, dings, song alerts and chirps our phones, bluetooths (teeth ? grin) make - reminding us of our importance to the world.

Odd that my ramblings would sway this way when I began on the thoughts of legacy but, perhaps, it is because I long for my children to remember me (moments, laughter, connections) and not a mom whose connections where wireless or wired-in and I certainly don't wish for them to remember me with fondness of words like, "Ah, Mom, yeah, remember how she was always on her phone or computer? Remember how quick she was to respond to texts or to stop doing what she was to run and check her email? Yeah, those were the days.". 

 Instead, I want to be remembered in ways I remember those people special to me: sitting in the warmth of the sun beside my granny, tipping and tailing beans talking about everything and nothing but just being, uninterrupted, beside her; going for walks with my grandpa and being so tired he had to carry me home; sitting as a pre-teen in the same chair as my dad and having it tip over, us stranded, legs swinging in the air attempting to resuce ourselves while laughing too hard to succeed...lazy days in the summer heat, laying on a blanket, a border collie cross laying across my back watching lady bugs scurry and birds fly listening to the sounds of my hard-working father and grandfather in the field, checking the time every so often so I knew when the moment was right to get my horse to take lunch and drinks out to them and sit between them basking in the love I have for them and they for me as they smelled like sweat, dust, gas, wheat and tractor...

My cell phone and my computers (yes, computers) all have power buttons, silence options and I have the ability to ignore. I know I do, I opted to use that option far too often with my dad when I was a teenager. I opt to use those options again. Yes, the world has changed since my childhood and some of those memories are not probable for my children to have of  theirs but they can be similar inspite of their differences...the feelings, the security, the warmth, the love...

My legacy will not be of one tied to an outside world as though it were my lifeline. My legacy will be one of family and love and mercy and relationships as though they were my lifelines because they truly are...I will use technology as my tool not as though I am ruled by it. Exercise is good for you and so, I encourage you to exercise your right to power off your technology or to excerise your ignore option in order to create unwavering bonds with the ones who are right in front of you...technology has its place, let's remember to keep it there as a tool for us to use as we need it...

Where'd my little girls go?

****WARNING****   *****WARNING**** TOO MUCH INFO ALERT ****WARNING****

The following post contains girly information that some may find embarassing, offensive or too much information... You have been warned.


Today I lost my little girl. She threw a ginormous grin at me as she jumped out of the car this morning, hobbling her sprained ankled self into the school, ready to spend the day at the ski lodge gliding down the hill watching her friends roll down the hill as she stayed safe and warm in the lodge mending a bad sprain from yesterday's Pirate Tag...

Pirate Tag... yesterday, a young girl, carefree...between Barbies and ponies and nail polish and hairdo's.

She asked me, last night, if she could sleep in my bed with me - a heartbroken little girl who needed her mama to snuggle her through the disappointment of not getting to participate in, what would have been, her first ski trip ever.  So, we snuggled...she slept in the bed with much comfort and room and I slept with a size 7 foot nestled, ever so lovingly, against my cheek... {Grin}...my baby girl...

Upon picking the kids up from their friends' house (I had no idea I was suddenly in the presence of a young woman), a quiet, somewhat embarassed voice (because her little brother was in the car with us) whispered  "Mom, I think I got my thing..."

A quiet metamorphasis transpired in the blink of an eye. My baby girl, on the edge of awkward teenagehood, became a young lady on the edge of girlhood...a beautiful, rare, genuine, passionate, kind, awkward with an inner grace, merciful, compassionate, intense, loving young lady.

Where has time gone? In the blink of an eye, Jellybean has gone from a pudgy-cheeked baby to a ladybug loving toddler to a gangly pre-teen with a heart of gold and a desire and zest for a life full of life and hope...a toddler who, due to verbal apraxia, could speak only a handful of awkward (sometimes made up words) to a young lady who can captivate an audience or a hard-hearted gang member with her words and electrifying personality.

I don't put this out on the "interweb" to one day embarass Jellybean but to, one, mark time; two, share with other moms that open discussion with your girls (even boys) about the facts of life, of what to expect in life/from life and they will come to you with their questions, their concerns instead of going to their friends and other sources to get their information. Create moments and opportunities to build trust and foundations with your children that you become their go to person, that they know you will be open, upfront and honest with them in, of course, age appropriate ways.

I have spoken, in some manner or another, to each and every one of my children with open-ended conversations about every aspect of life and growing up. If they have a question, I will never dismiss it; I will answer it as best as I can  in the most age-appropriate manner I can.  There have been times I have said something along the lines of there being more to it but, that at their age, that is all that needed to know for right now until they were a little older or more mature and they honor that...

Because of that, Jellybean feels that she is able to come to me as she discovers things that shock her about growing up - people she knows turning "emo", cutting, friends with eating disorders and I talk to her about my experiences, share with her honestly, don't dismiss her...if she doesn't have the knowledge, hear the experiences, hear the truth as I see it and discuss with me the topics as she formulates her opinions of what she wants for her life based on  these topics, she gets lead, blindly by her peers. Do I really want her peers formulating her morals, her ideaology of what is right and wrong, her theology...?

Talk with your children...not to them...not at them...talk with them. Communicate. Interact. Engage. Make and take time for...

A glimpse of a world outside her own

2 months and 19 days before she turns 11, Jellybean has experienced something I wish no one ever had to experience...ever. It is a hard lesson and not something easily processed but Jellybean has experienced her first bout of racism.  There is no such thing as prejudice in this house; I am a bunch of different nationalities and races. Some of our best friends are, we have been told, different races. Yes, it has been pointed out to us. I see people for their heart, that is what matters and that is the attitude we have taught to and marinated our children in.

Today, Jellybean's heart broke because a young friend of hers as decided that Jellybean is no longer her friend because Jellybean is white.  She doesn't understand, and I know nobody does, the mindset of racism.

I explained to her that she is always to remain nice to this young lady, to offer a smile and to pray for her. I also told her that she does not want to be friends with someone who judges anyone based on skin color.

I am new at this and so, I am requesting your help, your advice...anything else I can tell her, anything else I can do when/if there are future events

The ladder, the bannock and the doorknob

Now I know you are dying to find out what those three things have in common on a day like today and in the same story no less so I will quit with the lollygagging and get on with it.

Today is my birthday. I know! I don't look a day over ssshmooshhmmmmttthirtymmumbleseven...fantastic! Because I am NOT a day over...well, that number. No I kid. I have no shame in my age. I have worked darn hard to get that number! :D

I tell you that to set the theme because Jellybean was in her room doing a few things and preparing for my birthday celebration that she had planned. Yep, just me and my two littlest kiddos today.

The door to Jellybean's room has, apparently, been sticking. This I did not know until AFTER today's kerfuffle. So, somehow, don't ask me how; her door got jammed shut, absolutely bonifiedly stuck! As in LOCKED. IN. HER. ROOM.  For over an hour my baby was stuck in her room while her babysitter and brother, downstairs, thought everything was cool.

She couldn't get their attention so she opened her window and finally got the attention of someone. Bug ran over to the neighbors to get a mom, who called some of our guy friends, two of them, to get Jellybean out.  In the mean time, she was a smidge hungry because what else do you do in times of being stuck but have the desire to eat bannock? {mmmm bannock} She was talking to a friend out the window who decided Jellybean needed bannock and through the, at the moment, screenless window, she threw some bannock up to Jellybean.  {I couldn't have made up this story if I had tried, people!}

The two men could NOT get Jellybean's door open so one went to get a ladder, climbed up and into Jellybean's room and blammo, she is now free and has no doorknob on her door.  But, she is able to go in and out of her bedroom at will. :D

Jellybean's biggest fear? That she would have to climb down the ladder.

The text I got from the babysitter? "I just want to let you know that Jellybean was in her room and door was stuck. Now she is safe."  This made no sense to me at work. In fact, I just sort of shrugged it off until I got home and managed to get the full story.  This is a definite Wedding Story, probably Grad story, first date story, fourteenth date story, tell-her-children story...interweb story...

Things I have learned today. You really can get locked in your room even if your door doesn't have a lock and Jellybean is afraid of ladders. Oh, AND the flower called Birds of Paradise is absolutely gorgeous! (I received a lovely bouquet from my friends at work today)

Seriously, People! No way I could make this up {grin}

Time sure flies

when you're having fun!

When I met this beautiful young lady she was just a baby; she would snuggle with me and giggle. She wrapped me around her tiny little finger. I have watched her grow from a squishy cheeked baby to an absolutely gorgeous young lady with an amazing sense of humor! I wish we could spend more time with you...know that we love you to pieces!

Crazy, fun-loving girl!

Happy 14th bday, BabyK!!!! (July 28th)

Never Satisfied

Why is it that we as women (primarily women, some men too) are rarely satisfied with our looks? Why is it that after 3 children, 3 c-sections & 4 pregnancies I am just as unsatisfied with my body as I was when I was a 20-something year old with a 5 foot 6 inch frame carrying a mere 100 lbs?

Why is it that, as a mother of 7 and grandma to 1, I can't look at my rolls, lumps and jiggles with a sense of pride and accomplishment? Have I not, in a sense, earned each and every one of these stretch marks and these hips that don't fit well into the latest trends? Why must we constantly run the race to beauty with the proverbial carrot dangling in front of our noses that we will never quite reach?

With maturity does one not gain insight into what is truly important, what is truly worth being sought after? Evidently not.  Perhaps I just have not reached maturation {grin} but I thought that at my, nearing, 37 years, that I was at least a bit closer than I was at 16.  It seems, however, that I have some sort of a glitch - instead of maturing, the self-image part of me has been retarded, stunted.

Let the record show, we are moms. We are real life people. We don't have personal trainers, personal chefs, personal stylists, personal nannies to care for our children so we can dedicate countless hours to our waist-lines, botox, yoga, nail appointments and what-not.  I can not allow myself to think that is an image I want for myself - it is unattainable {maybe that is why so many celebrities, um, losing their focus on reality.} For the record, I do not have skilled airbrushing personnel to ensure that my every appearance is flawless.

I am flawed. You are flawed. I will never be model thin, at least not again. I wasn't even happy with myself when I was. And I shall never strive for my happiness to be wrapped up in appearances. Appearances are as fleeting as the next gray hair.  I do know that I am needing to shed a few pounds. Not a lot. But in order to be at a nice "healthy" weight, I would like to see approximately 35 pounds gone. 

I'll let you in on a little secret though...

...I certainly am not going to let my joy or my happiness ride on 35 pounds...not anymore

And the beat goes on

and on and on...

That's what happens in the house of an up & coming 8 year old drummer with a passion for a beat...

...and loud. Yes, he has a passion for loud.

I know many of you know just what I am saying, especially one friend/reader in particular who has a few musicians (boy ones) living in her house. (While you're here, reading, follow the link and pop by her blog. She is a fantastic storyteller with some uber amazing makeagain recipes that will leave your mouth watering.)

Back to Bug, currently he is downstairs drumming away.  He's got a good beat going and is so loud the fish are swimming to his soundwaves...wish I were kidding.  They may have even tried to cover their ears with their fins...(ok ok...they don't have ears).

P.S. Why does it seem the only time my children fight is when I am trying to get ready to get them out the door?

P.P.S Why do I seem to feel the need to look at the floor to yell at them if they are on a lower level than me? Do I think they can see the "angry face" and make them listen quicker...

Yes, that is what it is like in our house...at least tonight...Heh, I won't front. Most of my life is great and I enjoy most moments.  I have joy that is limitless but, we have "family moments" like every one else...it's all in the way you handle things right? If you can end a fight with both opposing parties laughing with each other, it is a good moment.

Where I've Been

I've been sick. Real sick. Well...as far as petty little sicknesses  like viral infections and colds/flus are concerned not as in something way more serious than that. 

But it had zapped all my energy, especially since B.D. has been gone.  There were still kids who needed fed and reminded to do homework and laundry and baths and...well, you have all been there. I needn't ramble on.

I was feeling well enough to, inspite of not being well enough to go to work, bring my laptop up to my room and get a very good start on the wedding powerpoint for J2s' wedding on June 18. That helped me to feel somewhat productive and feel a little better over the fact that the wedding is 16 days away and I had nothing started! "Almost done" feels way better than "what do I do first"...just sayin'.

And cue scene

from the Wizard of Oz; you know, the one where the witch is "melting".

Why?

Because I got off work today, I was greeted with the gloriousness of zero degrees and the snow melting at phenomenal speeds.  There are puddles EVERYWHERE and I am fighting back the most intense urges to throw dignity and class to the wayside and start splashing in the puddles RIGHT NOW!

So, my first day off this week is Wednesday and I will be off to get us (well, me and the kids) some rubber boots to kick Spring into gear with a fabulous puddle splashing party! B.D. probably will not be joining in on the spectacular festivities - not really his cup of tea.

I know there will still be a bit more "winter" but this is the beginning of its end. Take a big whiff of that! You know what that is? That's the smell of digging in the earth to find earth worms, of freshly mowed grass and steaks on the grill! 

Woo stinkin' who!!!!

I'm Rubber

Nope, not going to finish that with "your glue"...

For "family time", B.D. and I took the kids to the gym to go walking/jogging on the track. B.D. spent a fair bit of time in the weight room but, as the kids are too small to be in there, we spent all our time on the track. Almost 7 trips around gives you a mile.  I did 16 trips around.  One of those trips was 3/4 around the track at a fastish jog. 

Oh, did it sound like I was proud of that 3/4 jog trip?

I would definitely like to have been able to make it all the way... at least once!  But that will come.  I have never been one to like running.  Get me a partner and let's kick the crap out of each other... oh yes, Tae Kwon Do was the sport of my youth. Well, that horseback riding, walking all over the farmyard and any outdoor chores I was assigned to do (you know, like cleaning the pig pen and the chicken coop).

Bug ran just about the entire hour we were there...

Jellybean ran about 3/4 of that hour...

$12 for our family to go in and enjoy a clean, safe place to walk or skip or frolick or do tricep curls or whatever... {grin} Saw my cousin's husband; he coaches a girl's soccer team (or assists, not sure).

I was just thinking though, how much money does it cost to take a family of four to a movie? About $30 for the tickets and then what for popcorn, etc? I really don't know; it has been so long since we have done something like that. A meal for 4 at McDonalds is about $25-$30...but for $12, we went and got some exercise, taught our children that fun can also be healthy and showed them that family time is not simply stuck on a couch or with a BigMac in your face... Yay!!!!

Pretty sure tomorrow my legs will look, and feel, a lot like I am standing on Jell-o...
Just sayin'

Last minute guest

has left me silent, enjoying her company...

Alas, I must take her to the bus depot in 30 minutes and that makes me sad.

Yes, folks, Rush was here for two days. We visited, laughed, ate lemon meringue pie and cooked one of her favorite suppers: meatball stroganoff (of which she made this comment: my stomach can't keep up with what my mouth wants)

It was a nice visit. No strife. No awkward moments. She opened up to me about a lot of things that are going on at my mother's house and they are all the things I knew would because sometimes when you are young, you have an idea of how people will be and it's nothing like what they really are. Just saying...

Love being with her!

Thank you...?

Today I had a moment of weakness....I almost caved in to a McD's craving....

Anyway, I was having a temporary pity party. Yes, people those do happen in this house and I can freely admit to my part in them (sometimes it takes me longer to admit I am pouting but I do admit it {grin}). I was saying things like 'it doesn't seem to matter what I do, once I get to this weight I can't lose anything more' and things like that. I was speaking doubt & disbelief.

My sweet, dear Bug piped up from his spot at the kitchen table, "Mama, you are NOT fat. You are just a little out of weight, that's all." 

He really has been coming to my "rescue" lately.  Take for example on the way home from our extended vacation last week, B.D. & I were talking and he said, "So, what do you think, chick." Bug let his disgust at that comment be known from the back seat, scolding his daddy, "That's not some chick!  That's my mommy!"

Have I told you guys lately that he is seriously my favorite seven year old?  Like, I am not even kidding! {grin}