Spring Awareness

 

I've been out and about more than usual lately (Spring Break, Easter, etc.) and was struck with the inspiration to write another one of my lists.  Small tastes of Spring weather seem to bring out an extra dose of misguided experimentation in the fashion department.  I am far from being fashion conscious, and speak with no authority on such things as "trends" or "fads."  I do, however, sense a need for a certain level of "Spring Awareness" across the general population as the temperatures rise. 

What You Should NOT Be Wearing In Public:

1. Your clothes from last night.  Yeah...we can tell.

2. Bedroom slippers.  If I can't wear mine all day, then neither can you.

3.  Lingerie.  Seriously...I saw someone out in their lacy boy shorts and satin tank top.  (This will shock you... but I was at Wal-Mart.)

4. Your bathing suit...and nothing else...unless you are ON the beach or AT the pool.  Please.

5.  Sunglasses...indoors.  Unless you have a disability, this in inexcusable.  Don't.  Just don't.

6.  Short-shorts...with very few exceptions.  If you are under 18, you need a whippin.'  If you are over 25, then you are embarrassing yourself.  22 years old and jammin' at a pop concert?  Go for it.

7.  Open-toed shoes ...sans a post-winter pedicure.  I know you're excited because it's a random, warm day...but please - at least trim your toenails before bringing the flip-flops out of hibernation.

8.   The same outfit as your teen-aged child/grandchild.  If you are old enough to get a senior citizen's discount, then you are too old to shop in the Juniors department.

9.  Hair styling apparatus.  No, no, no - do not leave the salon's premises with your curlers or foils on your head.

10. Clothes that don't fit you.  I'm definitely guilty of trying to make a pre-baby piece of clothing work here or there, but let's not make it a habit.  If you cannot comfortably sit or bend over, then we can not comfortably be around you when you do it.

As a side note, I asked the hubs if he had anything to offer for this post.  His only helpful suggestion was to 'people watch' at Wal-Mart....which is kind of what started this anyway.  I also expressed my desire to be casually funny, without being snotty and sounding mean.  He said "Good luck with THAT."  Hmmm...

We've all committed at least one transgression. We get excited when that first 70 degree day hits, and just completely forget ourselves. Oh, the shame!

Are you a Spring Awareness offender and need to confess?  Did I leave anything pertinent off of the list?  Feel free to add offenses and/or confessions below! ;)

♥M

The Easter Story...Basically

Now that I've finished scrubbing chunks of Peeps off of the hardwood floors, found all of the handfuls of goldfish crackers that my 2-year-old walked around and hid this morning (inspired by the egg hunt yesterday, maybe?), and my kids have crashed from their sugar high and fallen asleep...

I'm thinking about Easter, the real story, and how many people know the basics, but don't give it much more thought than to say they are "celebrating Christ's sacrifice for us" today...including myself.  I'm not judging!  I'm just pointing out that when you're trying to make sure you got the Easter baskets just right, took the perfect pics of the kids in their Spring outfits, and remembered the casserole and/or dessert that you're supposed to bring for Easter dinner...it's almost impossible to TRULY give the "real" reason for Easter the attention that it deserves.  You might dress up and go to church and listen to a sermon about it, but that's just not really enough.  Again - I am including myself in the "fallen short" pool here.

So I decided to look up the Easter story in Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, then summarize it for you.  I'm not trying to offend anyone, or call myself re-writing the Bible, or anything equally as blasphemous - so please don't send me hate mail about such nonsense.  I just thought that either you know the story and would enjoy a freshly summarized version, or maybe you DON'T know anything about it and could use a down-to-earth version to help you understand what all the hype is about. 

Either way, here goes....

*********************

Two days before Passover (a Jewish festival celebrating the  Hebrew people being freed from slavery in Egypt - check out the book of Exodus), Jesus was winding down from laying a bunch of parables (stories that teach a lesson) on his crew, and he says to his disciples, "Hey guys, I need to tell you about some stuff that's about to go down."  Jesus gave them a heads up that they were going to be persecuted because of their relationship with Him.  He explained that He hadn't told them about this until now because previously, He had been WITH them and they didn't need to worry about it.  Now, however, He was about to leave them, and they needed to know to watch their back.  He explained that this was because pretty soon, He had to go away and be with his Dad, but then He would come back.  The disciples were like, "What?!  You're not really making a lot of sense, Jesus..."  So he breaks it down like this: "You know how a woman in labor goes through all kinds of pain, but then when she sees her baby, she completely forgets all about the pain and suffering, because she's so full of joy in that moment that they are united?  Well, that's just like what's about to happen.  You are going to be really bummed out and think that everything is just totally awful when I leave - but then I'll come back and you'll be so happy that you'll forget all about how sad you were.  No one will ever be able to take that joy away from you.  I mean, I came from Heaven, guys...I gotta go back there.  If I don't go, then you won't be able to join me later.  And trust me - you'll want to join me, because this world is full of trouble.  With me though?  You'll have peace."

Now, you're not going to believe this BUT, there's another meeting going on at the same time: all the chief priests and elders and what-not, are all gathered up at this cat named Caiaphas's house (he was a high priest).  They are all super annoyed with Jesus because, basically, He's awesome and helps people, but doesn't follow all of their rules.  Plus, he goes around saying that He's the Son of God, and that just ticks them off, royally.  They all plot against J.C. and decide to arrest Him in secret...and then off Him.  "We better not do it during Passover, though," they decide.  "The people would get totally twisted up about that." 

Here's an even bigger kicker: in order to help that nasty group accomplish their plan, wouldn't you know that one of Jesus's OWN disciples (Judas) just up and offers to help them with their black op mission?!  And for what?!  30 pieces of silver!  Then the jerk has the nerve to deny it when he gets called out.  During his last supper, Jesus throws it out there - "One of you guys right here in this room, eating with me, dipping your bread in the same bowl as mine...will betray me."  Of course, all of the disciples are like, "No way!  That's crazy!"  One of the disciples, Peter, gets all super defensive about how he would NEVER betray Jesus.  Jesus is like, "That's nice, Peter, but I happen to know that you will deny even KNOWING me three separate times before the sun comes up."  (And he does.)  Judas though, he's a real piece of work, because he actually says, "Well, it ain't me, for sure!"  And Jesus is like, "Hey, man - you said it, not me.  But just so you know - the guy who betrays me, would be better off not even being born."  (Daaaang!)  Then they ate bread and drank wine.  When Jesus broke the bread he compared it to his body being broken for us, and when he poured the wine he compared it to his blood being spilled for us.  (That's what's up with communion services at churches.)

 After supper, they all headed to Gethsamane.  Jesus told his guys to keep watch while He prayed.  He prayed to His Father: He prayed for strength, He prayed for God's will, He prayed for his disciples, and He prayed for all believers.  He sweat, He cried, and He prayed.  He asked God if there was any other way... He was overwhelmed with sorrow, and if I had to guess, He was freaking out about what He knew He was getting ready to go through.  He checked on his disciples twice - both times they were sleeping, NOT standing guard.  The third time He finished praying, He told them "C'mon guys, seriously, this is all about to go down, you need to get up and stand tall."

Now, here comes the gang sent by that nasty guy, Caiaphas.  Wouldn't you know, Judas is with them.  He walks right up to Jesus and kisses him.  This is the signal for the guys to arrest Jesus.  Jesus keeps his cool and tells Judas, "Do what you came to do, man."  These guys had torches, clubs, and swords...they were eager for trouble.  Peter, being super keen to prove himself, ends up cutting one guy's ear off.  Jesus tells Peter to cool his heels, though, and then He even heals the guy's ear.  "I'm around every day, so y'all could arrest me whenever, y'know," He tells them.  He goes with the men, however, and requests that his disciples be left alone.  Good thing, because they all took off anyway.

They bring J.C. back to Caiaphas and all of the super important priests and elders.  They proceed to hold a pretty messed up version of a trial where they basically try to get anyone and everyone to say something that will give them an excuse to execute 'ol J.C.  No one can seem to quite get their stories straight, though; so ultimately they just ask him, "Are you the Son of God?"  Of course, Jesus IS, so he tells them so.  They call this blasphemy and condemn him to death...but not without beating him, spitting on him, and mocking him.  Meanwhile, Judas ends up feeling pretty guilty, tries to take it all back, gets rejected, throws the money back and hangs himself.

Because Caiaphas and his crew didn't really have the authority to execute Jesus, they drug Him up to the governor, Pilate.  Pilate wasn't really impressed with the charges, so he tried to find a way out of having to deal with things.  He learned that Jesus was from Galilee, so he sent Him there, for Herod to judge.  Herod and his crew further tortured and mocked Jesus, but didn't really have a reason to execute Him either, so they sent Him BACK to Pilate - again passing Him back off to be dealt with.  Pilate tried another way out: "Passover tradition is that I release a prisoner.  How about I just release Jesus, since He hasn't really done anything?"  Unfortunately, Caiaphas and his crew had pumped the crowd up to dispute this, and the people demanded not only for Jesus to be crucified, but for a murderer named Barabbas to be released instead.

So crucify Him they did.  His crime?  Claiming to be "King of the Jews."  The soldiers flogged Jesus, mocked Him, made Him a crown of thorns and pressed it into His head.  They draped a purple robe around His shoulders while they hit and spit on Him and had Him carry His own cross to Golgotha (until He collapsed and they forced a man from the crowd, Simon, to carry it for Him).  They drove nails through His hands and feet to secure Him to His cross, erected it between two criminals and left Him to die while they divided up His clothes amongst themselves.  While He hung there - bleeding, suffering, and dying - Jesus was ridiculed by both the people passing by, and one of the other criminals hanging beside Him.  All of this happened while His own mother had to watch, and weep, at the foot of her beloved Son's cross. 

When Jesus died (Good Friday), his body was taken down, wrapped in linens, and placed in a tomb.  Before he died, Jesus had made it known that he would be back on Day 3 (Easter).  Because there was a fear that His disciples would steal his body in order to make this claim appear true, there was a large stone rolled in front of the tomb's entrance to block it, and a guard posted to protect the body.

And yet, the stone was rolled away.  Jesus's body was gone.  He appeared to his followers as promised (they took a little convincing) - and then he charged them (and all believers) with the task of sharing the good news that is His life and death, so that all people could know about His Father and the relationship that is available to us because of His sacrifice.

****************************

 

 

And that's the Easter Story....basically. 

 

 

THAT'S what God did for us.  That's what Jesus suffered for me...for you...for the mean lady next door.  It doesn't matter what you've done, who hates you, or even if YOU hate you - God loves you.  And he proved it by letting his own Son be beaten, spit on, mocked, and crucified....just for you and me.  There is nothing and there is nobody that can stop you from having a relationship with Christ - except you.  Having Jesus live in your heart is something as simple as opening a gift that's been sitting on your kitchen table every day, while you just walk by it and pretend like it's not there.

 

 

I'm not perfect...but I AM a Christian.  Does that make other people uncomfortable?  Sometimes.  Does that make things uncomfortable for ME?  There are definitely situations that cause me internal conflict.  But am I confident in the fact that I have done NOTHING to deserve salvation (nor has anyone else), yet have it anyway?  Yes.  Yes, I am.

 

 

Happy Easter!

 

 

♥M



To My Second

Dear Daire,

 

Two years ago today, you taught me an important lesson about a Mommy's love and how big it could grow (A Second Love).  You changed our world all over again, and filled in an empty piece of our family that we didn't even know was missing. 

I love your spirit.  I love your determination.  I love your "class clown" sense of humor.  I love that you're fearless - even if it does cost me ten years off of my life every time you jump off of something tall...  I love your smile - especially when it's full of mischief.  I love your curly, strawberry-blonde hair.  I love your hugs - little arms wrapped tight around my neck and squeezing me with all the love you have in your little body.  I love YOU.

Your energy and excitement about the world around you makes my heart happy and leaves me confident that you will accomplish anything and everything that you ever set out to do.  While the fact that you don't take 'No' for an answer, push your way through any barriers, and have the athletic prowess of an Olympic athlete at the age of 2 is really quite exhausting for me currently (especially in restaurants, stores, church...in public) - I hope that you keep those qualities forever.  They will serve you well in Medical School...or as a professional athlete...or as a circus performer.

My Daire-Devil - even though you committed the following offenses at your birthday dinner tonight: jumped up and down in the booth, climbed back and forth under the table, shouted "Hellooo!!!" to people in all corners of the restaurant...and in the lady's ear behind us, flung sauce everywhere, got food in my hair, lost your silverware (3 times), destroyed your straw then dumped your drink out on the table, threw the salt and pepper shakers, pulled out my earring and yanked my hair on the way to the bathroom for your "talk," and somehow got choco taco pieces INSIDE of the sleeve of your jacket, which you did not even have on while eating, I still wouldn't trade any of it. 

You're too much fun and have too much fire inside of you for me to wish you any other way. 

Having said that - I WILL be nailing your bedroom windows shut around the age of 13.  And I might homeschool you.

I love you baby girl...always, forever, and upside down.

♥M(ommy)

IKEA for Dummies

Last night, I was entirely too weak of mind, body, and spirit to write a blog post.  I had to concentrate on my recovery before I could put it into words...

Yesterday, I took my children to IKEA.

If you are unfamiliar with this magical wonderland that is a home store, then please, PLEASE, take the time to go there.  The whole place is a maze of furniture showrooms, a home decor marketplace, and has just enough of life's practical items (light bulbs, band-aids, umbrellas, chocolate...) stuck in random places to make it absolutely necessary to explore the entire store each time you go...lest you miss any magical bargain that you cannot possibly be expected to continue living without, but didn't even know you needed.  There is also a cafeteria on the second floor, should you need nourishment in order to continue shopping.  Do you hear what I am telling you?  A store that provides a refueling station for power shoppers = an A+ establishment in my book. (OR an oasis for when you get so lost that you can't carry on looking for a way out until you get your blood-sugar back up...whichever, really.)   You will love it - unless you absolutely hate it.

My hubs WANTED to hate it.  You see, he is a custom woodworker; and in previous years I was not allowed to even consider making a "fake furniture" purchase from such a wicked place.  I changed his mind by making him go there with me - holding a list of things I wanted him to build for me.  I added up how much it would cost me to buy the "fake" furniture.  He added up how much it would cost him to make me the "real" furniture (materials plus time away from actual paying jobs... apparently my undying love does not translate to cash).

We left the store with several flat packs, and he didn't even complain about putting any of it together with fine print, Swedish directions.

Back to yesterday:

Plan A was for me and the 4-year-old to go to IKEA, retrieve a "big girl bed" for the 2-year-old, and have Nana (my mother-in-law) keep little sister while we were gone.  We scrapped Plan A for Plan B - all four of us going together.  "It will be fun," we said.

I should have taken heed of the many warnings that morning - the day would NOT go according to any type of plan.

1. The hubs decided that I was to drive his truck.

2. The hubs decided that his truck needed a dozen different fluids AND air in the tires in order to be considered suitable for me to drive.

3. The hubs decided to drive his truck to work, then have me pick it up on the way, so he could be especially sure that it was indeed performing no less than was his standard for my trip that day...whatever that was.

4. I went into the girls' room to wake them up and get them ready.  I discovered that the 2-year-old had taken her diaper off during the night, and the entire bed was soaked with pee.

5. I gave both kids a bath...while they screamed (and I think cursed) about the injustice of being transferred from the bed to the bathtub.  ME waking THEM in an unpleasant manner?  The nerve.

6. I washed the girls' pajamas, sheets, blankets, pillows, stuffed animals, and mattress cover.  So much for getting all the laundry done the day before (The Life Cycle of Laundry).

Fast forward: we overcame the odds, we're in the car, we're going to IKEA.  It should have taken an hour and a half.  It took 3+ hours.

1. There was traffic.

2. My GPS kindly offered to reroute us around the traffic. "Yes, please!" It took us many interesting places....and then attempted to put us BACK into the traffic.

3. I caught sight of the still-backed-up traffic, said "Oh, Heeelllll no," whipped the truck around, and got the heck out of there.  It was way less "007" and way more "You can't make me go back there!" than I probably realized.  I can't really be sure, however, because I was extremely distracted by my mother-in-law screaming, "We're going to die!" and  "I see the light!"

4. The kids slept ZERO on the way there...and we arrived promptly at what WOULD have been naptime.

And yet we entered the store anyway.  I thought I was prepared with coloring supplies, snacks, toys, drinks... They got bored with the snacks, wanted different drinks, hated the toys, and were disgusted with my coloring supplies.  They DID want to run, jump, climb, argue, cry, make insane demands ("Buy me this office chair!")...and expected ice cream on the way out.

I think I mostly kept my cool.  By that I mean I didn't beat anyone, I didn't yell, I ignored most of the little stuff, and we all came out alive.  I'm not entirely sure why I thought taking my 2-year-old that likes to scale tall dressers, balance on one foot on the seat of exercise bikes, and dance on kitchen counters to a huge furniture showroom store was anything less than asking for it, so really, I blame myself.

The ride home was another 3+ hours. More traffic, more wonky GPS directions, more crying, more bickering, more insane demands ("I want to blow bubbles!") and lots of rain to boot.  It wasn't ALL terrible though.  I got to hang out with my mother-in-law (although she probably needs counseling after the day we had combined with 6+ hours of my driving).  I got to listen to my babies sing their ABC's and count their 123's in the backseat (even if my helpful suggestions of including certain omitted numbers or letters was rejected - "I am counting MY numbers, it is not your business.")  We talked and laughed and played a silly game of how many different funny voices we could say "I love you" in (I think we were getting delirious at that point). 

Getting home was still a sweet relief, however.  Well, until I realized that the 4-year old had fallen asleep and had an accident in her car seat, the 2-year-old had a fever....and I had a headache.

More baths, more laundry, and then sweet, glorious bedtime.

God made Moscato for days like this.  Amen.

♥M

The Life Cycle of Laundry

We have an established pattern around this castle with our laundry system.  It goes as follows:

1) I wash everything in the whole house that can be balled up to a size smaller than the circumference of the washing machine door.
2) I keep up with regular, follow-up loads for a period of time. 
3) One terrible day, I wake up and discover that the dirty laundry has bred during the night and there is a Mount Clothes-erest in my laundry room. 
4) I spend a whole day doing laundry, thus starting the cycle all over again.

Today was the end of a cycle, meaning that I spent from sunup until now (well, whenever that last load finishes...) washing every textile in this house.  This day in the laundry sequence always makes me extremely grouchy - not BECAUSE I'm doing laundry, but because of what I FIND in the laundry.  Today's treasures included Dora the Explorer knee pads, 4 stuffed animals, a set of sheets that I had washed, dried, folded and set out to be put on the kids' bed, but had been returned to the hamper instead, and best of all: an entire bag of clean clothes that the kids had left at my mom's house, and she had washed and returned.  An. Entire. Bag. Of. Clean. Clothes.

It doesn't matter if it WAS clean, it just sat in the laundry room for a week in a pile of dirty clothes and now I have to wash it all AGAIN. 

The best part about spending the whole day doing laundry is that you have no evidence of anything being accomplished when you are done.  All of your hard work is folded up and put away in drawers or hung up in the closets.  Today, the rest of the house looked like a disaster response team should be called in because I pretty much ignored all of the other messes the kids were making all day while I was folding clothes.  I surveyed the remnants of a blanket fort, the knee deep pile of toys in the kids' room, the stickers all over the couch, and the trail of crushed pretzel dust from Jace driving her tricycle repeatedly over a rogue pretzel in the kitchen floor that had missed the dustpan in a maintenance sweep earlier.  Hmmm...I decided to call and prepare the hubs for this before he got home.  I wanted to save him from himself, and eliminate the risk that he may walk in and say something really stupid like, "Hey, this place is a wreck - what did you DO all day?!" 

"Hey babe, FYI the house is a wreck, but I got ALL of that laundry done!"
"That's cool... Wait, the house is so bad you called me?!  Do I need a hazmat suit or something?"
"Not quite."  (I described the scene.)
"Oh, well I'm not going to be home for like, an hour so...."
"Stop.talking.now.I.don't.want.to.have.to.kill.you.in.your.sleep...Ok.love.you.byeee!"

Phew.  Good thing I called him.

There's another phone call I need to make, though.  I need to call MY mom.  The woman who did MY laundry (and four other people's too) for 17 years.

I need to tell her THANK YOU for the following:

-every stain she removed.

-every tube of chapstick, balled up piece of paper, and handful of change that she rescued from our pants pockets (or rocks, dandelions, Barbie shoes, chunks of dried Play-doh...).

-every shirt that she turned right-side out to fold (especially the long-sleeved ones).

-every clean item that she probably washed about 3 times before we actually put it away or wore it.

-every wet towel she found in the floor...or on the bed...or behind the door...

-alllll of the socks that she ever unballed before putting them in the washer.

-every missing sock she found in a random place around the house while cleaning, and returned to it's home - clean - without anyone even noticing.

-actually, for just even allowing us to wear socks....because I'm seriously thinking about banning them altogether in this crash pad.

-anything she ever had to "sniff-check" to see if it was really dirty, or just got thrown in the floor.


Ok, the last load is done!  Now it is time for me to make my traditional declaration - the avowal that I make at this juncture of the laundry cycle each and every time:

I will NEVER let this pile get this big again. (HA!)

Also, I hung a sign on each of the dressers that says "If you unfold/remove any of the items in these drawers for any reason other than to put it onto your body and wear it for an entire day - I will cut you."


♥M

The Race to Parenthood 5K

Before I share my 5K experience, I wanted to just tell you a little bit about the race and what it was for.  The Race to Parenthood is "a fundraising platform for those who wish to start a family, but require fertility treatments or adoption to do so. Many couples require additional financial assistance to pay for IVF, IUI, adoption, or surrogacy – our organization seeks to provide a way to help those who cannot afford to fund their path to parenthood."  As someone who has NOT had to struggle to conceive, carry, or give birth to a baby....it breaks my heart to even attempt to imagine a reality in which you are denied this experience.  So whether you agree or disagree with IVF, IUI, surrogacy, or adoption, just remember - we are all following our own path in life, we all have a purpose, and we all have to trust that God's plan is better than ours.  How do you know that part of your purpose isn't to help other's follow their path?  Well, you DON'T know - so it wouldn't kill you to get off your Judgey McJudgerson bench long enough to try it out.  If you have the urge to do so, like, right now - just go to the website http://theracetoparenthood5k.com/ and make a donation.  The race is over, but they are still taking donations for each couple.  Or, if it's too hard to choose one (I couldn't do it either - I was randomly assigned a team when I registered), you can actually make ONE donation that they will split for you across all 7 of the couples.

End of public service announcements.

Let's start with what time I arrived at the race.  The race that started at 9:00am.  If you guessed 8:52am, you would be correct.  WHY?!  Because that's what I do.  I live on the edge like that.  Also, we had no idea where we were going, which left us dependant on a GPS - a GPS that kept losing it's signal.  ALSO, on the way there, I became struck with a new, overwhelming fear that I would have to pee while I was running the race.  So I made the hubs stop at a gas station.  Well, 3 gas stations actually, because the first two didn't have restrooms.

I slid right into the lineup though, no biggie.  I had my earbuds, my Map My Run app, my hubs wishing me luck...it was exciting!  Until I saw the whole thing kicked off with a big 'ol hill.  Nuh uh, Jack - I resolved to NOT trip, injure, pee, or otherwise embarrass myself today (or at least not in the first mile) so I will walk up the hill, THEN run, thank you.  "What are you doing?!" shouts the hubs.  "Uhhh, warming up!!!" I shout back. 

Once I got going it was...fun.  (Running?!  Fun?!)  I felt great, I was energized by the people around me, and the view was really nice.  Trees, water, people waving and cheering you on - but not too many people, because that would have been another problem.  I even managed to grab a cup of water from a volunteer without falling on my face or smacking the cup from her hand to the ground!  I was reciting "rules" in my head, "Ok, say thank you....Did I just shout at her? I'm not sure, I can't hear myself over my music...Crap, I'm spilling this...Oh yeah, remember to squeeze the rim so you don't dump it on yourself....Yeah, I still spilled it everywhere, oh well...What are people doing with their cups? Is this a "toss on the ground" kind of run? Nope, I see no cups on the ground....Here comes the trashcan....HA! I made it!  Tossing cups into trashcans level: Expert."  I didn't want to push my luck, though, so I politely declined water at the second table.  Too much risk involved, and I don't usually drink on a 3 mile run anyway, so why take the chance of ruining my good fortune by getting fancy with water cups. 

I was feeling so proud of myself, that I didn't even mind the 8 year-olds, 60 year-olds, or Moms with jogging strollers running past me.  My goal was just to make it to the finish line.  And when I did cross the finish line....it was pretty awesome.  The announcer said my name, bib number, and time, people took pictures, and I kind of felt like a rock star.  A really sweaty, red-faced, oxygen-deprived rock star.  I did not have to go to the first-aid tent, there were no defibrillators involved, I didn't have to lay on the pavement and ask the hubs to drag me to the car by my ankles - a great finish, in my opinion. 

After securing some hydration, and asking the hubs exactly how far ahead of me had the lady with the newborn finished, I checked my times on my app.  "OMG...I averaged 10 and 1/2 minute miles?!"  Yes, I do realize this is still a "turtle in peanut-butter" type of pace.  For me, though?  That's phenomenal.  I usually average 13 minute miles.  Apparently, having people cheer for you while you run is a real boost.  I need to look into how I can make that happen on a daily basis...

I also checked my stats online tonight from the chip on my race bib.  Overall, out of 349 people, I finished as lucky #100!  For my age category (20-29), I was the 15th out of 58 females to finish.  Because I am a strange person and I like numbers that you count by fives, these numbers make me very happy.  (This would be really useful information to have if you were to ever ride in my car, because I would be extremely annoyed with you if you were to say, change the volume of the radio to 21 instead of 20 or 25.)

I think we all know, however, that there is NO WAY that I did not have at least ONE awkward moment in this day.  Fear not!  I never disappoint you in that area!  While strolling around, checking out vendors after the race, the hubs and I ran into one of my sorority sisters from college.  One of my classic awkward moves is to hug people who are not "huggers," so I went ahead and took care of that straightaway.  Ok, awkward hug - check.  What can I do to make this worse?  Hmmm...how about be oblivious to the fact that she was one of the sponsored couples.  I hadn't recognized her married name on the website, and I guess her picture being next to it wasn't enough to help me make any connections.  Did I realize this while we were talking?  No, of course not!  I said NOTHING to the effect of acknowledging that the entire event was a fundraiser for her, her husband and 6 other couples.  So dear readers, you are welcome - I managed to slip at least one classic M-savvy moment in there.

And there you have it.  I survived my first 5K!  Now that I know I can run 3.1 miles, it's time to concentrate on being able to make it through those obstacles for the Rugged Manic in a few weeks.  Again, my goal is survival rather than finesse.  I like to set the bar low enough for the allowance of pleasant surprises when it comes to my athletic feats.  "Don't die" seems about as low as you can set it, so I should do aaamazing!

♥M

It's kind of fun to do the impossible.
- Walt Disney

P.S. THANK YOU for all of the supportive messages and well-wishes that have been sent my way today for my race, AND throughout all of my "training."  All of the kind words and support have really been an amazing source of strength whenever I needed a push or a boost. So again, THANK YOU!

Please Read If You Happen to Work For The Devil

First, let's establish that I am writing this list for no reason whatsoever.  Well, except to warn people that you should not (I repeat - do NOT) say any of these things to your employer. 

So it’s kind of, sort of a totally random public service announcement…

Things that you can’t say to your boss or you will get SUPER fired:

1. "How was Mr./Mrs. Satan this morning, when you left home?"

2. "Did they have career counseling at your college or university?"

3. Frantically run into his/her office in the morning and shout, "I changed my mind! You didn't drink your coffee yet, did you?!"
4. "You probably don't get, 'Be yourself!' a lot, do you?"

5.

6. "Would it upset you to know that I have garlic cloves, a wooden stake, and a hand mirror behind my back?"

7. "How do you fit all of those snakes under your wig!?"

8. "Have you been drinking before work again?"

9. "I thought of you while I was unclogging my toilet the other day."

10.

11. "I'm not sure what's wrong with you, but I'm betting it's hard to pronounce."

12. "Everyone is good at something! I'm sorry you're 'thing' is making people miserable."

13. "I suppose if you just keep talking, eventually something intelligent will come out."

14. "Can I share a thought with you, or would you have any where to put it?"

15.

16. "I've noticed that your reality and mine seem to keep missing each other..."

17. "If  you haven't had the time, I can run to the drugstore for you and pick up refills of any meds that you may have recently stopped taking..."

18. "I hope you enjoyed your business trip!  The rest of us did!"

19. "I'm not sure why I seem to be learning more from your mistakes than you do..."

20.

♥M

High on Aspiration, Low on Ability...Part 5

The prequels!

High on Aspiration, Low on Ability

High on Aspiration, Low on Ability....Part 2

High on Aspiration, Low on Ability....Part 3

High on Aspiration, Low on Ability....Part 4

Since I started running in January,  I've crossed a few things off of my bucket list.  I've never run a whole mile in my entire life, so all of this is really....something.  I was always one of the kids strolling around the field, getting a 20 minute mile for my Phys. Ed. test.  Now my record is 6.5 miles in one run.  I ran from my house to my parent's house, and I called my mom before I left. "Hey, if I run to your house, will you give me a lift home?  I sure as hell ain't running back."  "Oh, well I'm not home from the grocery store yet..." "Ma, I'm running there, not driving....you got a while." (1 hour and 26 minutes to be exact.  She made it home in PLENTY of time.)

I made an attempt two weeks ago to reenter the running world. I had been easing my ankle into things with the elliptical, and wasn't planning on running anywhere just yet.  BUT...the kids wanted to go see the cows in the pasture behind my parent's house.  "What does that have to do with anything?!" an inquiring mind might ask.  I really wish there was a sensical answer to that...but there isn't.

As it turns out, a sufficient level of satisfaction could not be reached by simply LOOKING at the cows.  The totally reasonable, undemanding children wanted to PET the cows.  Unfortunately, cows aren't really creatures that are known for wanting to BE petted...so they all ran away.  Luckily, the totally reasonable, undemanding children had an alternate proposal - if THEY couldn't pet the cows, the next best thing was (obviously) for ME to pet the cow for them.

There was crying and talk of depression over broken cow-petting dreams - so I did what any normal person who happened to have her running kicks on would do - I chased the stupid cows.  One of the cows stopped running (they are HUGE at arms distance, by the way) and we stood there looking at each other.  I thought we were like, bonding through eye contact or something, so I held my hand out... and it snorted at me.  Once my feet landed back on the ground from jumping out of my skin, I took off.  THAT was probably my fastest mile to date.  It's a damn shame I didn't flip my Map My Run app on before I bolted...

Then, I had a stomach bug two weeks in a row and have been all but worthless.  I think I've gotten two good runs in the past two weeks.  And by "good" I mean "I didn't throw up and/or die."

This weekend, I have my first 5K...definitely not something the kid leisurely walking 20 minute miles ever anticipated signing up for.  I'll let you know how that goes.  I do plan on surviving the race - without hitting up the first aid tent.  I did a practice run tonight (3.1 miles) and that didn't totally do me in, so things are looking good.  I had to stop and walk a few times, and I'm pretty sure I shook off a heart attack once or twice....so just the usual.  I got this!

♥M

GO TO SLEEP! (Please. I love you.)

When did bedtime turn into such a debacle?!  We had an established routine (of sorts) that occasionally got wonky, but lately...

Tonight has been one for the record, though.  The hubs and I have begged, pleaded, threatened, bribed, and made all kinds of absurd statements in an effort to convince those monsters (I mean, angels...) to GO TO SLEEP!

First we had to convince them to get in the bed.  No, we are not watching Frozen again.  No, you are not hungry, you just had a snack.  No, you cannot sleep in our bed.

Then I had to go into their room repeatedly for the following reasons:

1. To break up a fight over who gets to be Queen Elsa and who gets to be Princess Anna.  I'm positive that Daire doesn't even know the difference, and she was just antagonizing her older sister.

2. To comfort Jace from a nightmare that I know she was completely fabricating as she had NOT fallen asleep yet. (And still hasn't.)

3.  To confiscate a Lalaloopsy doll from Daire in order to stop Jace from screaming,  "SISSY HAS A TOY SISSY HAS A TOY SISSY HAS A TOY."

4. To turn the night light back on because they turned it off.

5. To AGAIN explain why they could not sleep in our bed.  The hubs tried to get creative here, and told them that they had to pick between sleeping outside with our two cats in their cat house, or indoors in their comfy-cozy bed.  This backfired horribly as they promptly chose the cat house.  He walked them to the front door and opened it....then they cried and had to be convinced that Daddy was NOT, in fact, really making them sleep outside, in the dark, with the cats.  THAT will fun to explain when they tell their version of that story at the babysitter's tomorrow.

Then there were the things that they got of the bed and came into the living room for:

1. Daire walked into the living room, selected a puzzle from the bookcase, and sat down in the floor to play.  "What, this isn't cool with y'all?!"

2. Jace got out of bed THREE times...to tattle on Daire for getting out of the bed.  Hmmm.

3. They both got out of bed to come and request an additional viewing of Frozen - AGAIN - and AGAIN the hubs tried to get creative.  "Look - if you just get in the bed and stay there, I will give you a gummy bear." A desperate plea made by a desperate man.  "Where are you getting gummy bears?!" I asked, alarmed by this promise.  "WE DON'T HAVE GUMMY BEARS?!" His eyes turned mad and I feared for his sanity.  "No, I used those to bribe them in church yesterday!"  We are both panicking at this point.  He pulled it together, though, and didn't let the pressure break him.  "Wait! I think there are M&M's somewhere!  There have to be! Here they are! Who wants an M&M?!"

The next time they got out of bed, I started talking spankings and counting to 3.  I saw flashing pajamas and heard the door slam as they scurried back to their room.  I know they are still awake because I can hear them in there giggling...no doubt plotting their next move.

Hopefully they fall asleep plotting, because I need to recharge before they show up in my room at 3am.  This is their most diabolical move, because they know that at that hour we are too tired to discuss spankings or M&M's.  The hubs grabs his pillows and excuses himself to sleep in the twin bed that his feet hang over the end of, and I fall asleep either hanging onto the edge of our bed for dear life, or with both kids on top of me, like a little pile of puppies.

Oh well....I suppose that these are the things people say they miss when their kids get older.

If it's not, then please don't tell me because that's what I'm telling myself.

♥M

Being a Sensitive Adult (a.k.a. Getting Your Feelings Hurt)

I recently wrote a blog post called My Sensitive Child (a.k.a. "The Drama Queen"), and there was an incredible response to it, but not the one I expected.  I really thought that I would mostly hear from parents whose children share similar traits; but actually, a majority of the responses were from adults who identified THEMSELVES as "sensitive." 

I feel very strongly that the reason I can be patient with my daughter is because I empathize with her.  In addition to being awkward (as evidenced in Awkward Anonymous & Freaky Friday), I am also a sensitive adult...probably as an extension of being a sensitive child.  Do I sense another support group forming....anyone...?

Throughout my childhood and teen years, I had very little by way of self esteem.  I was an easy target who always felt ridiculed for being "different" or separated from the crowd.  I always felt like someone was mad at me (even if they weren't).  I can still FEEL the feelings that I experienced in certain situations.  Anything as simple as forgetting my homework or anything as drastic as getting into a fight - it has all stuck with me.  All of the times that I felt stupid for something I said or did, every instance of feeling betrayed or bullied, they all remain tucked away in the recesses of my mind.  You know those people who can't remember anything from their childhood, or stare at you blankly when you recount some shared experience from high school?  Yeah, I don't get those people...but I am jealous of them.  What I wouldn't give to block out middle school...*shudder*

As an adult, I definitely have a thicker skin.  I would no longer be described as "shy," "inhibited," or "timid."  I speak up a lot more often.  I am more confident, and less likely to put up with your crap.  I didn't choose to "grow out of" those sensitive traits...life's circumstances grew me and molded me into a stronger person (on the outside, anyway).  It took ALL 28 YEARS, however.  In high school, I was good at faking being confident, and in college I developed a little more self-esteem.  Within the last few years I have realized that I just need to own and get over my flaws....or else I'll die of anxiety.

That doesn't mean my brain knows I am supposed to be this newly "NOT sensitive" person, however.  I have relapses...and they are usually when I get good and pleased with myself about whatever I've got going on.  This is when things start stacking up and tear down my resolve to be "tough" as opposed to "sensitive."  This week?  It was just one big test of my "think skin."

I've written before about the conscience effort it takes on my part to not blend other people's feelings with mine (Don't Hide Your Feelins').  That's not because I am influenced by others' ways of thinking, but because I can literally absorb the vibes that people give off and their feelings influence mine.  ("Whoaaa...that's intense, man."  What a hippie, right?)  Thus, when someone is angry and being condescending towards me, it takes a lot of effort, sometimes, to maintain my super cool, "go with the flow" attitude.  For a totally random example: if your boss was being way negative and talking to you like a prison inmate while looking at you like something they just found stuck to the bottom of their shoe....it could require extra effort to not totally lose your religion, much less your job. 

Maybe that's not a good example, though.  I mean, who wouldn't be tempted to lose their cool with an angry person, right?  If you are a sensitive person, however, the whole thing will bother you for days...and you'll think of it at random moments...and it will distract you from other things....and you will be even angrier later than you were then.

Over analyzing can be something we sensitive folk do very well too.  Here's a snapshot of my brain from earlier this week while having to smile and play nice around someone that I KNOW doesn't like me....

"I can't believe she just TALKS to me all the time... I wonder if she knows that I know that she spread all of that mean stuff about me...  I wonder if she trash talks about me around our mutual friends... Hmmm...I wonder what my friends say when she does.  Wait....they must not say anything, because otherwise she wouldn't be mean in front of them.... Omg...everyone hates me.  I'm never leaving home again."

See how I took that from "level zero" to "level crazy" in less than 3 minutes?  Get over yourself, M, people have more than you to worry about.  Phew.

Not convinced that I am a recovering sensitive adult?  How about my reaction to someone not liking a Facebook post I made?  (I posted an e-card that made a joke about "who do atheists thank for it being Friday?")

"Oh, wow...that got totally misunderstood.  Wait...if one person misunderstood, then probably the whole world did.  Holy crap, someone just unliked the blog page.  That has never happened. I'm deleting the post.  Let me check the stats....ok, only 36 people saw my post.  2 of them liked it, so that means I could potentially lose 34 followers.... I'm just going to text the person that I pissed off.... Ok, now I'm going to wait until they answer... Ok, they answered... Oh crap, I  have really screwed up!  I suck at life and I will never post anything on Facebook again."

Then I laid in bed and stared at the ceiling for an hour trying to decide how to best win myself back into that person's good graces.  Yeah...I'm a real tough cookie.

But wait...there's more.  I had to witness two different friends get treated badly this week, as well.  I think I've already established how crazy this makes me (To All My Friends! (God Help You.))  My passion for preventing the pain of others was strained and tested.  In one instance, I was at least able to shoot off my two-cents - in the other...no such luck.  As someone who burns way more intensely over the injustices dealt to others than to myself, these were serious struggles for me.

And lastly, things go personal again.  I have spent the last week promoting the fact that I am staying home next year and have gotten some super confusing vibes about it.  I KNOW that I am making the right decision to stay home.  I have gotten great advice, a lot of interest from people who are interested in me caring for their children as well, but also some pretty strange reactions.  Most people have meant well, and a majority of the feedback I have gotten is both positive AND helpful.  I have done a lot of research and feel prepared for my adventure.  And yet...that sensitive part of me that I can't deny - it's tingling.  My feelings are trying to be hurt by the weird, negative vibes that some people are giving me about leaving teaching and staying home to be with my babies.  Nevertheless -  I WILL be staying home with my kids next year.  The part of me that can't help but to be affected by people's negativity is just really smarting from all of the questions and skepticism about how it will all "work out."

 As a "recovering" highly sensitive person, I know that I will have moved on from all of these emotional setbacks within the next week.  As a "relapsing" sensitive person, however, I know that I will both remember these events and draw from the experiences when making future judgement calls.  If there's anything us sensitive people are good at - it's limiting the opportunities of others to make us feel foolish or insecure.

Don't worry, though - as an awkward person, the sensitive traits will lose out and I will soon act foolish anyway...all on my own!

 "Unless you're ready to look foolish, you'll never have the possibly of being great." - Cher


♥M

Financial Fools No More

 

 

4.5 years...that's how long the hubs and I have been waiting for TODAY. 

As of today, we are 100% credit card debt free.

I am not sharing this because I think we deserve praise for digging our way back to the surface of our debt; I am sharing this because I think that it's important for people know it can be done. 

Neither of us were unsuspecting or naive about how revolving credit worked; so we can't plead any kind of ignorance about getting into the situation that we found ourselves in.  We whole-heartedly agreed from the beginning that credit cards were dangerous, not to be toyed with, and had no place in our lives as a financial crutch.

Then life got a little more real.  I left home my junior year of college.  I had student loans to pay for my tuition and books, but there were a lot of "extra" expenses that weren't in the shiny university pamphlet....like a laptop, lab fees, student activity fees, etc., etc. etc.  I kept my part-time job as a bank teller (just transferred branches); but now I had full-time living expenses as well.  I had always paid for my own car, car insurance, and cell phone...now there was an apartment (with running water, electricity, AND cable), A LOT more gas being burned in my car, and I had to actually feed myself at least once a day.   Being an "independent" adult turned out to be a real drag.

At first I kept a budget and did okay.  Gradually, however, as my feelings of independence grew, I loosened my grip on the "NO" word with myself.  I was in charge of me now, and I didn't need approval for every little thing I wanted.  There was no one chanting "can't afford that can't afford that can't afford that" every time I wanted to spend money.  It was empowering to want something...and then buy it.  Don't get me wrong, I wasn't going on shopping sprees or buying "designer" anything.  I WAS buying a new pair of jeans at Old Navy for a party that weekend, ordering pizza when friends came over instead of cooking, and buying stuff for my apartment that I definitely didn't need to survive.  I was also charging my "living expenses" and justifying it by paying the full balance every month...until I WASN'T paying the full balance every month. 

I still had a loose handle on my spending...until I got engaged.  Then I lost my damn mind.  I was going to have the wedding I wanted, and I would pay for it later.  A lot later.  Like, until yesterday. 

What I hadn't really thought long and hard enough about was the fact that I wouldn't be gainfully employed for quite a while after we got married.  I had to give up my super awesome job as a bank teller (for real, I loved that job) to student teach.  And you don't get paid to student teach.  Quite the opposite, actually - you pay them quite handsomely to complete your student teaching requirements (and to take the umpteen tests required for your license...and secure your actual state license...)  And complete mine I did - in DECEMBER.  Not a lot of teaching jobs laying around in the middle of the school year.  We limped along, though, with me substituting the rest of that year; but by the time the student loan statements started showing up, the numbers on the credit card were almost rubbed smooth.

In 2009, the Credit CARD Act went into effect.  This credit card reform law required credit card companies to play a little more fairly - and be a little more honest about their fine print.  The jerks at the credit companies were no longer allowed to hike interest rates without advance notice, sneak attack you with due dates that bounced around every month (or had cutoff times of the day for payments), charge outrageous late fees ($25 cap now), or charge you "over the limit" fees unless you "opted-in" to that service.  All of those things were nice, but what got my attention was the new box on every statement that broke down for you exactly how long it would take you to pay your card off if you continued to make your monthly minimum payments....and how much you would have actually paid them. 

After noticing that horrifyingly eye-opening little box on our statements, we made an appointment with a local Clearpoint counselor.  We had made a lot of really bad decisions, and trust me, I'm sure we aren't done doing that, but THIS was an AWESOME one.  Clearpoint's Debt Management Program was the kick in the butt that we needed to get on track.  Basically, they took over all of our cards and negotiated lower interest rates, higher principal payments, and fast-tracked us towards paying everything off.  Luckily, we had never missed any payments or been late on anything, so our credit was still good.... but we did have to cut up all of our cards and weren't eligible to secure any loans or credit accounts while on the program. 

For the first few months, you may as well have cut off  my arm.  It was a serious reality check to not be able to stop at the store and pick up something because I didn't have the cash for it, or to have to turn down friends' invitations to go out because the funds were non-existent.  Shortly after signing up for the program, life changed even more drastically; and we survived two maternity leaves and multiple instances of the hubs being out of work due to injury or lack of business.  We survived medical bills, student loans, buying baby formula for two out those four years, and buying diapers for all four of them.  We made tough decisions about what to spend our last $20.00 on some weeks.  We ate dinner at my parents house...and took home leftovers...A LOT. 

It took serious adjustments to our way of thinking and to our lifestyle, but it was all worth it for TODAY.  Up until now, I was embarrassed about the fact that we were on a debt management program.  I was embarrassed that I had managed to graduate college magna cum laude AND be a victim of something as stupid as credit cards at the same time.  But not today.  Today, I am proud of how hard we worked to leave that debt behind us.  I am proud of my husband for all of the extra work he did to make the money we needed to provide for our family.  I am proud of how savvy I turned out to be with random food in the cabinet at dinner time.  I am proud of the juggling skills I learned when it came to making the credits and debits of our checking account work out JUST right each month.

More than proud, however, I am GRATEFUL.  I am grateful that we had awesome friends who didn't ditch us because we couldn't afford to go out.  I am grateful that we had loving parents who slipped us gas money when we were living on one income while paying medical bills, or invited us to dinner then sent us home with "extra" food...sometimes once a week.  I am grateful that we had trustworthy, affordable babysitters for our children so that we could go to work.  I am grateful that I learned how to be empathetic to those who have to make decisions based on living paycheck to paycheck, or not having a paycheck at all.

And - at the risk of this starting to sound like an award acceptance speech ("First and foremost, I would like to thank God...") - I AM grateful that, as a Christian, I have been able to recognize the fact that sometimes, some weeks, some months....things did not make sense on paper, they shouldn't have worked out according to the numbers...but they did.  We never missed a house payment, our kids always had food to eat, and no one disowned us for getting really crappy Christmas presents a few of those years.  (Thanks, guys!) 

We did it.

Watch out student loans - you're next.

♥M