Another Day, Another Moment

Trials and Tribulations

2012-01-24T14:54:00.000-08:00

So anyone that is currently or has raised a preschooler knows the difficulties that can arise when what you think is right is in direct opposition with what they think is right. Ethan and I struggle with this. More so than Ethan and his dad. That man has the patience of a saint!

And so, when tasked with the difficult job of creating a well-rounded, mindful, considerate, yet independent human being, one must at times take measures that are painful for both parent and child.

It is HARD to be a parent. I can understand (and have been guilty on occasion of) why parents give in to their preschoolers. The fits that these tiny creatures can throw is beyond the reasonable scope of imagination, and I remember thinking I would never have a child that acted in such a way. But alas, dear Ethan has proved me wrong yet again!

But I am getting stronger in the face of his determination and strength. And what helps me most with that is the simple fact that his understanding and complex thinking skills are becoming more advanced. It opens a range of possibilities for me!

And so here we go. I use the count method. That's a 1 - 2 - 3. If I make it to 3, it's trouble for Ethan. Yesterday, I picked Ethan up from child care. He wanted to slide down the slide a few times; I said okay. When I told him "two more times," he said, "ten more times!" And he was laughing. I said, "two." We counted 1 and 2 and I said, "let's go." He laughed and ran back for the steps. Um. I do not think so, kid!

And so comes the counting. "Ethan Craft. If I get to 3, I'm taking Gordon away for the night." His response? "No!" and continued on his merry little obstinate way. "1 - 2 - 3. Okay. Gordon is getting taken away!" And he didn't care. Little sh*$!

Eventually, I convinced him it was for his own good to come along. However, on the way to the car, he asked me, "You don't have to take Gordon, do you?" My response? "Well, actually, I do. Mommy counted to 3 and you didn't listen. I explained the consequence to you and you made the decision." Let the crying commence.

Eventually, he quit crying, and I pretty well forgot about it by the time we got home. But as we pulled into the garage, Ethan gave me the sure fire sign that his little brain can understand delayed consequence. He said, "You don't have to take Gordon away, Mom." And so I went with it.

What followed was about 30 minutes of off and on crying and screaming. I explained that I understood he was frustrated and that it was okay to be upset. I explained that actions have consequences and by choosing the action he chose, he made the decision to lose Gordon for the night. And when he tearfully asked, "But can I please have him back? I'm sorry." I stood my ground and said, "We can try again tomorrow." This, naturally, was followed by more wales.

We finally got to a point where I very firmly said, "Ethan, I understand that you are upset, and you have the right to be upset, but you made the decision and this is the consequence. Now if you want to continue crying, that's fine; however, you'll need to do it in your room. You apparently need some time to think things over." He shook his head and said, "no," so I picked him up and carried him to his room. He quit crying before we got there.

Funny thing is, if Dad said a word to him, he'd get upset because he didn't want 'dad' to talk to him. He'd hug me and I'd say, "I love you." He'd shake his head no. He wasn't THAT over it. Dad, however, thought I was being just a tad mean with the whole "time to do this in your room" thing.

Later, he wanted to play trains and he said that tomorrow he would have Gordon back. He said, "that's the consequence." And I agreed.

We'll see how it goes today. If 30 minutes of screaming, tantrum-throwing nonsense is what I have to put up with to teach him that actions have consequences, then I'll take it.

That doesn't mean it's easy.

Opportunities Missed....

2012-01-11T06:47:00.000-08:00

It's inevitable when you work for men that upon getting pregnant they begin to treat you differently. For a girl like me, that's a huge consideration. I'm 32 years old. I want to continue to grow in my current career path. I don't want pregnancy to be a reason for not giving me opportunities.

I feel like that's exactly what it happening. I just hope I'm wrong.

The Battle Continues and Why Food is at the Top of my List

2012-01-10T08:33:00.000-08:00

Ethan came in around 1:30 and asked me to cover him up (he sleeps on a pallet next to my bed). I did so, begrudgingly. At 2:30, he woke me again to tell me he wants blueberries for lunch. Are you kidding? He stayed up from 2:30 until, well, 10 minutes before we got to childcare. And while I may have started Toy Story around 3, I didn't get much more sleep.

I just KNEW he'd fall asleep watching that movie. Not even close. He came back in all cheery asking for another movie! Seriously? And so my eyes burn as I type these words, and I wonder how I'm supposed to make it through the day. I am so tired. All I want to do is lay down on my office floor and sleep. For real. Alas, that scenario is not in the cards.

And so what am I doing with my morning while I should be working? I am researching food, behavior, and sleep. I'm not talking about an internet search. I'm talking about online database through the library scholarly journal college research type of stuff here.

I have to have an answer. I have to find something that works. I have a baby on the way. Ethan's sleep disturbances have GOT to calm the eff down or I might lose my mind! And of anything I can have some control over, it's diet.

As I dropped my very sleepy son off this morning, I told the child care person that we would need to keep a food diary. I have to figure out what's going on. It's a must. I know he watches too much TV there. I know he doesn't engage in enough activity there. I know he takes a nap there, which would be fine if the amount of physical activity were increased. And I know he eats junk there. I cannot control most of these factors, but if she knows I'm tracking food and I've asked her to track food, she'll be less opposed to me conducting a "food" experiment by bringing in my own foods and snacks for Ethan.

I'm not jumping off a cliff here and hoping my parachute opens up. I'm not randomly determining what foods to cut. I'm researching. And what I've found so far is that Yellow #5 and #6, as well as Red #40, affect behavior and SLEEP in many (not all) kids. There's a whole host of things added to our foods that can adversely affect sleep. Not just the above. Refined sugar is also on that list.

So as I embark on my own quest to clean up MY diet, I am now also embarking on a quest to solve the sleep disturbances that plague my child. Both of which will likely result in many, many tantrums on both our parts. Oh boy!

The Three Year Old Has Arrived

2012-01-09T12:25:00.000-08:00

I heard that the twos were terrible, but the threes were horrible. And as we edged toward three, I thought those before me were on to something. But then Ethan things got what I would call a little easier. After all, Ethan's comprehension became more advanced. He understood what I was asking of him more clearly. I no longer screamed and fought me every time we got in the car. In fact, he started getting in the car seat on his own. And that new theme of wanted to do EVERYTHING on his own emerged.

I will admit, the more developed independent streak has, at times, made me wish for a more congenial, timid boy. But in the end, I would prefer Ethan to know his mind and to be fearless at trying things out on his own. His drive toward independence is something to be encouraged rather than squashed, and I have told myself countless times that it is a skill that will most definitely serve him well later in life. As annoying as it is to wait for him to get in the car seat or go to the potty or put his own lid on his cup, especially when we're running 10 minutes late already, I have learned to take a deep breath and remember how proud I am of my Mr. Independence. And so these things just didn't seem that "horrible." Alas, I knew not what I was in for....

This weekend marks the first weekend of power struggle galore. Sure, we've had power struggles. A kid with his own mind and a Mom with her own mind are determined to run into power struggles. However, nothing has ever reached the epic proportions reached over Saturday and Sunday. And bedtime Sunday night could NOT have come any sooner!

Obstinate is a word that instantly springs to mind. As we said one thing, he said another. As we asked him to do one thing, he did another. Push and pull, push and pull. And if I thought Saturday was bad, it was nothing compared to Sunday.

You see, my husband says that if he leaves the room for two minutes, Ethan and I are at each others throats. How can that be? Ethan and I are very similar for one. For two, that child likes to push my buttons more than any one else's. I've been told that children will push their parent's buttons and test them more because they feel more confident and secure with them. If that's true, than Ethan is the most confident person on Earth in my presence. He LIVES for my reaction.

So naturally, when Clint was gone most of Sunday, Ethan thought it might be a perfect time to try out his newfound "testing abilities" on mommy dearest. I won't give an exact account. I'll just give a few examples.

Ethan drops an ornament (we're putting away the tree)
Mom: Ethan, that's Daddy's ornament. Let's not break it. Could you please put it right there?
Ethan: No.
Mom: Put it down, Ethan, right now before you break it.
Ethan puts it down and then reaches for it again.
Mom: Please don't touch it.
Ethan smiles, looks at me, and touches it with a single fingertip.

McDonald's
Ethan: Can I have an ice cream?
Mom: Play for a while, and then you can have one before we go. (we just went there to play.)
Ethan: No. I want an ice cream now.
Mom: After you play a while. We're leaving right after the ice cream.
Ethan runs off and plays. Keeps coming back and asking. I finally give in because I want one, too.
Mom: What do you want? A hot fudge sundae (because that's what I'm getting) or an ice cream cone?
Ethan: Sundae.
We eat our sundaes
Ethan: Can I have an ice cream cone now?
Mom: No. I gave you a choice, and you said you wanted a sundae.
Ethan: But I didn't want a sundae. I wanted an ice cream cone so I should get an ice cream cone.
Mom: No. You asked for a sundae which is essentially the same thing minus the cone plus the chocolate.
Ethan: But that's not what I want.
Mom: Go play or we're leaving.
He runs off but returns frequently hoping my mind has changed. It never did.

At home that evening after Dad's return.
Ethan: I want to help wash the lettuce.
Mom: Get your stool. Get over here.
Ethan gets his stool and I set him up with a bowl of lettuce in our salad cleaner. He goes to town.
Mom: Great job, Ethan. Thanks for being so helpful. Okay, it's time to get down.
Ethan: No. I don't want to.
Mom: Ethan, it's time to eat dinner. Let's get up to the table. Please.
Ethan stares at me but doesn't budge. By this time, I've had it. My voice rises.
Mom: Ethan, I'm going to give you to the count of three to get down right now. If you don't, I'm going to take a toy for one day.
Ethan: No. I want to wash lettuce! (there isn't any more to wash).
Mom: There isn't any more. It's time to eat. 1....2....
Ethan looks at me with defiance written clearly on his face. He reaches over, turns on the water and jumps down as I get to....
Mom: 3.
Ethan: I'm down. His chin is in the air.
Mom: Ethan, get up on that stool and turn that water off right now!
He climbs up there and stares at me.
Mom: Ethan, I'm not telling you again. If you do not turn that water off right now, you are going to your room for 5 minutes! (I'm a firm believer in time-out as many minutes as you are old, so you can see my anger)
Ethan stands up a little taller, pushes his chin a little further up, looks me directly in the eyes and says, "No." He didn't yell it. He said it calmly. Just as I would.
By this time, I know his dad is standing behind me.
Clint: Did he just do that because I walked in?
Mom: Nope. Been that way all day.
I walk over, trying to keep an angry smirk off my face (yes, I smile when I'm really, really mad and thinking of doing horrible things. In this case, I've never wanted to knock that child upside the head as bad as I did in that moment), and pick up my OBSTINATE son. I carry him to his room and tell him he's getting a time-out for 5 minutes.

I leave him in there for 5 minutes. When it's over, we talk, we hug, we kiss, and the Ethan I USED to know is back....but only momentarily. This nasty little Ethan reared his ugly head again this morning.

It would be infinitely easier to give in to his every whine, whim, and tantrum. It would be infinitely easier to let him do whatever the hell he wants. It really, really, would. But I can't. And so, I must wade through the horrible threes determining which battles to fight and which to ignore. Because there are very few battles in which I will surrender. Fight or ignore. No surrender....giving in will, I know, just bring about stronger, harder issues later.....

The twos have nothing on the threes.

Am I insane or just overly informed -- Warning: Food Post

2012-01-06T05:56:00.000-08:00

I can be a bit obsessive about things. And that obsession right now has everything to do with food. As you know if you read my BPA post, I've been doing a lot of research about the food we consume and the things it can do to our bodies.

For myself, I'm pregnant and I know that my baby is exposed to the things I ingest. And, I want to live a healthier lifestyle and minimize risks associated with bad diets. For my son, study after study exists linking pesticides, color additives, hormones, etc. to a whole host of issues that possibly include autism, ADHD, cancers, and more. I say possibly because no study I've read definitively proves the associations. However, I am inclined to lean toward the premise that these things, especially in high concentrations MUST have some effect on our systems and those of our unborn and living children. We are what we eat -- a quote first attributed to Anthelme Brillat-Savarin in 1826. Even then, people realized the power of diet.

And so, I have found myself researching and absorbing a slew of data revolving around our food sources. The fact that you can barely get your hands on soybeans that are NOT owned by Monsanto scares the hell out of me. What if I don't want genetically-modified food (GMO)? And companies don't even have to put a label on foods that are GMOs. WTH?

I have read about the connections between mood and attitude and sleep and sluggishness that comes from eating too many refined carbs and sugars. And I have read articles that show a distinct increase in the number of supposedly healthy within-weight-range individuals suffering from diabetes because of an increase in sugar. And don't get me started on the sweeping epidemic of children inflicted with Type II diabetes, which not long ago only plagued adults. These things are happening because of the choices we make in our homes. However! I am not silly enough not to understand what we're up against.

The marketing and advertising put out for our foods is smooth. They know how to hit us below the belt and fighting against it? Well, it's damn near impossible. I get it. I'm there. Hell, I ate Chinese yesterday. Fried chicken smothered in MSG overload. And the eggroll? I don't even want to know the trans fat number on that baby. But I LOVE eggrolls. Talk about a weakness. And that Hershey's bar at home? Yep. I was all over that baby last night! I say that to say I understand that it's hard because I'm there!

And so, knowing and learning what I know and what I'm researching, I HAVE to make a change. And it's gonna be a bitch. I'll be honest. It's gonna hurt. Come February 1, I'm going to embark on something that might be one of the hardest tests I've put myself through. I'm going to give up refined sugars.

I have a friend that has given up refined carbs, but I'm not quite ready for that. My thing is sugar. It's evil. Very evil. So I've decided to give up the refined crap. Why is that so hard? Let me tell you.

Refined sugar is in everything. So I buy whole grain breads with no refined, enriched flour. BUT, it has brown sugar in it, which means it has refined sugar. So do English muffins, tortillas and pretty much all bread substances bought in a regular grocery store. Fun! If you start to look at ingredient lists, you'll see that nearly everything we buy has some form of refined sugar in it. In fact, this site lists 50...that's right FIFTY....different names for sugar!

This doesn't mean, of course, that I can't eat any sugars. There are natural sugars, which do not include white sugar, by the way. That stuff is lethal, too. Pure Maple syrup and Honey are natural sugars. And there are certain brands of 85% cocoa bars (dark chocolate) that have a natural, unrefined sugar in them. Fruit has natural sugar, just ask my son, who will quickly tell you that natural sugar is better for you. So I can still get my little sugar high; it'll just come naturally.

By cutting refined sugars, I'll be cutting MOST refined carbs as well. The two seem to go hand-in-hand. I've been told by reliable sources (aka my best friend) that I should feel a significant energy and mood difference within just a few days. And that 3 o'clock slump? Well, it should become non-existent. :)

My goal to start is two weeks. We'll see how it goes.

Wow! I'm a pretty sucky blogger!

2012-01-04T14:00:00.000-08:00

Alright. So it just occurred to me that I completely forgot to post a major announcement. On December 22, I had my 20 week ultrasound and appointment. And we're NOT one of those couples that WAITS until the baby is born to find out what the gender is. So for those that don't follow me on facebook, I suppose it's pretty big news.

Let's start with the ultrasound. A lot of people get solely focused on finding out the baby's gender at the 20 week. While I was excited and apprehensive about that, I was also aware that this one is the one where they tell me whether everything is okay. I opted out of the early genetic/downs testing, deciding I wouldn't get an abortion regardless of results. And since the risks increase with age, I had this tiny voice back in my head saying everything might NOT be okay.

Maybe was moving. I mean breaking it down, barely able to measure anything moving. This kid was going CRAZY! It made me smile. But then she was having trouble checking out the gender and the thought occurred to me that she might not get it. Oh NO! Of course, she did finally get a peak, and we're expecting another BOY!

I thought I would be so disappointed, depressed, upset. After all, this is my last child and my last chance at a baby girl. Surprisingly, I was relieved. I'm not girly. I don't spend time on my hair. I wear the bare minimum of make up. I like to get dirty and time on the river is one of my FAVORITE activities. I'd have the girl that screamed at the site of bugs and thought canoeing was a form of torture inflicted by her parents. She'd want me to do her hair all the time. What would I do with that? I barely comb Ethan's hair in the morning. I'm not kidding.

And so, I realized that it was the idea of a girl that I wanted more than an actual girl. It would've been fun. And cute. And pretty awesome to have a little girl running around that looked like me. Of course, I could've gotten a little girl running around that looked like Clint. So there you have it. I little boy it is, and I'm thrilled.

Everyone said, "well at least you won't have to buy anything." Um....yeah. Winter babies and Summer babies don't wear the same clothes. Ugh. But that's okay. :)

Alright. Now for the stats.

At 20 weeks, I weighed 130 lbs. That's a whole 12 to 14 lbs heavier than I was when I started this thing. I can feel the weight. BUT, I'm on track and hope to stay on track.

I'm over halfway there at this point. I'm looking at 22 weeks tomorrow. WOW. Can't believe it.

Here's the thing. Doc said that I should prep to be a week late. Ultrasound is reading at one week behind, and since Ethan's ultrasounds did the same and he was late, she thinks I'll go late. I am PERFECTLY okay with that because I know what comes with the baby. Sleep deprivation that could only be described as a form of severe torture. I can wait.

:)

Pics at 21 weeks:

The Magic of Children

2011-12-28T05:41:00.000-08:00

I don't think I've made it much of a secret that my childhood was less than desirable. It was downright awful most of the time. And so Christmas got piled into that awfulness. Most Christmases ended in screaming and shouting following just a few moments of feigned happiness. There were no traditions. There were no exceptions. It was open gifts, then business as usual. And many Christmases, churches, that we didn't dare step into, stopped by the week before to drop off gifts some very caring person decided to bestow upon us. Our other gifts were courtesy of a check written by my grandmother that she gave each year to my mother to ensure the kids even got a Christmas. Things were different, of course, when I lived with my grandparents, but I could count those times on one hand.

And so, I didn't grow up to be an adult that remained (or ever was) enamored with Christmas. I actually could have cared less about the holiday. I understand that I should've cared at least for what it all stands for, but it was just another example I could use for all the questioning I did throughout college and after and still do regarding God, Jesus, and the existence of Christianity. My husband, the agnostic, on the other hand, sees Christmas as a wonderful time filled with joy and family and happiness. He loves Christmas. His life was much different than mine.

Once we had Ethan, I began to see Christmas in a new light. For one, I was beginning to come back around full circle in my quest for the truth. I may not be all the way around, but I'm getting there. For two, I had a child that I could celebrate the holidays with. Santa became real again and gift-buying became special. Each year has become more magical, and I have Ethan to thank.

This year, I was able to see the magic in his eyes. When he watched the North Pole video I made, he truly believed Santa was speaking solely to him. He was amazed, and I could see that amazement shining in his eyes and speaking through his features. When he would talk about being a nice boy or a naughty boy, he knew and believed that Santa was watching him and everyone else in the world. I marveled at such a suspension of disbelief. And on Christmas Eve, when we began our tradition of reading and watching The Polar Express, I was delighted by his thrilled expressions of the North Pole.

Kids are special for a thousand different reasons, but this year, this season, I fully understand how a child can make you young again. As I watch his features and feel his body tense in anticipation while watching The Polar Express or seeing the video of Santa talking to him. Or when I see his eyes light up and widen upon seeing Santa's gifts, I find myself getting goosebumps. Because through him, I can feel what it's like to believe so wholeheartedly in something that has no proof other than someone saying it's so. I can remember what it's like to follow blindly with no question into a magical world that brings joy and excitement and anticipation so great it's almost bursting through your chest. I can remember for a moment what it feels like to carry that happiness with me before the world got jaded and before my reality became what it was. It's an amazing thing to see through the eyes of your own child the simplicity that life can be.

I may not have had those moments long when I was a child. My life became jaded too fast. But for Ethan and for the next, I have the opportunity to ensure that simplicity and innocence stay with them for as long as it's supposed to. And while they do have it, I know that each year, I, too, will be blessed with a suspension of disbelief.

And then there was food....BPA and Food Dyes

2011-12-21T12:56:00.000-08:00

I'm not going to make any New Year's resolutions. They never come to fruition when I do. And quite frankly, I'm on a pretty tight regimen with this whole baby thing anyway. But I am thinking about changes I want to make in the upcoming year to help ensure our family stays healthy and happy.

I've always kind of paid attention to food. I've been aware of the dirty dozen for years now. I know that BPA is bad, bad, bad. I pay attention to the level of fat in our meats. But I really haven't had a lot of follow-through on working out and making constantly healthy choices. For instance, I was tired Monday. Too tired to cook. We got ANOTHER pizza. It's becoming a weekly thing! I need a change.

So I have this friend on Facebook that never transitioned from her hippy ways into mature adult. There are many times I wish I could've stayed in that world, but that just wasn't my path. And so she posts all this crazy stuff about our food and vaccines and this and that. In fact, she posted once about cellulose in our food and that it's wood fiber and not even digestible. Cellulose, while it can be derived from wood, is found in the cell wall of plants. It's an insoluble fiber, which is necessary to the digestive system. If you eat lettuce, you eat cellulose. Simple as that!

And while some of these things should be taken to heart, I usually find myself researching many of them and finding that the truth lay somewhere in the middle.

So with all that said, let's go back to food. Naturally, my friend is for organic and home-grown foods. I am too...but I'm a realist as well. I recently also read a fiction book where the main character had a son that had ADHD. They tried an elimination diet....cutting artificial dyes from their foods. It helped. That intrigued me, so I started doing research on food dyes. What did I discover?

Artificial Food Dyes, contained in everything from Fruit Loops to Nutri Grain bars, are BAD! Mood disorders ADHD and food allergies can all be (partly) attributed to food dyes. Of course, it would be silly to think that food dyes cause ALL the problems or that they explain every case of ADHD. That's just not true. But while the FDA refutes a link, there are several parents and health professionals that have seen marked changes in behavior and mood once eliminating the food dyes. Not to mention that my husband's aunt avoid Yellow #6 like a plague because of the issues it causes her. There's something to be said, but it's not my job to convince you.

Shortly after I discovered I was pregnant with Ethan, I was anxious to buy something babyish. And so I got a few bottles. Right after that, the news broke about BPA and all of a sudden, all the bottles were BPA-free. I took mine back and bought the BPA-free. But even so, the majority of Americans have detectable levels of BPA. Why? Easy enough to answer. BPA is in our tupperware, in our pre-packaged foods, in our canned foods. Eliminating BPA requires eliminating processed foods and pre-packaged foods. Pre-packaged lettuce? Yep. The packaging has BPA. Canned Beans? BPA. Even the FDA "shares the perspective of the National Toxicology Program that recent studies provide reason for some concern about the potential effects of BPA on the brain, behavior and prostrate gland of fetuses, infants, and children." It's also been linked to heart disease and cancer. Good news is that BPA levels decrease once you start avoid BPA. Your levels drop. Why wouldn't I want to do this?

Alright. So that's food dyes and BPA. And so as the new year begins, I have strong plans to begin a systematic elimination. I should actually say a more consistent elimination. I have already begun to eliminate food dyes, but I'm weak and it's the holidays. I have a hard time taking those M&M's away from Ethan that he got from his holiday party. Hell! I have a hard time not asking for some of them!

And BPA, I started eliminating it a long time ago, but I believe it's time to update what I have in my house with BPA-Free and Glass. You see, I just stopped buying the stuff, but I didn't get rid of what I had.

I'm not crazy enough to push my "agenda" upon those that believe artificial food dyes, preservatives and chemicals such a BPA is okay. I just know what I've researched and what I've come to believe through that research. I have looked at both sides of the food debate, just as I have the vaccine debate (and I vaccinate) to develop my own thought and determine my best course of action for MY family. This isn't a one size fits all. And I was telling a good friend, a person could drive themselves crazy with all the don'ts out there. Seriously!

And the thing is, I know I can't eliminate ALL of it. But I can start slowly and that's what I plan to do.

Next up (probably next year): Sugar. And then Meats.

It's the Truth!

2011-12-15T10:56:00.000-08:00

I'm trying so hard to just enjoy pregnancy. I'm not in any real pain. I have the normal stuff going on. I have nothing to complain about. Trouble is that no matter how I try to spin it, I don't like getting bigger and heavier. It makes it harder for me to walk. And because I'm all out front, I have to compensate when I walk for the weight distribution.

And I'm pretty sure I'm growing again. I'm cranky today. I don't feel all that great, and I'm overly emotional. I'm tired. I'm finding that these types of days indicate growth spurts. My stomach is getting tight. I feel large.

I'm crying because the women in my office just went over to get a bottle of wine from someone that makes homemade wine and I was going to go with them. I walk out there and the receptionist said, "They said 'catch up.'" What the FUCK! (yes, I said it). I'm pregnant and miserable today and you want me to "catch up." I don't think so. So instead, I'm venting here.

Pregnancy Update

2011-12-14T09:22:00.000-08:00

I've been thinking about so many posts I want to write. So many things I want to share. I just haven't sat down to do it. So....here's some random stuff that I've been feeling:

I'm growing. And I'm growing in spurts. Apparently, stretch marks are worse for people who grow in spurts. I can already see my old marks. It's time to keep things lotioned up.

I know when I'm about to go through a spurt. I feel pretty tired and generally crappy a day or two beforehand. And then BAM...my stomach has grown. And I'm not kidding. My ability to zip up my coat on Sunday was much easier than on Monday. It literally happens overnight!

I've had some kickin' round ligament pain. And since I've had two colds in a month's time, I've noticed that every time I cough, my ligaments act like sharp little knives on both sides of my abdomen.

I feel this little baby move around a lot some days and not at all on others. I can go three or four days without feeling a thing. Then I get all worried and think something might be wrong. All of a sudden, it's like baby is having a dance party in there. I know it's still early. 19 weeks. But it's worrisome.

So I know lots of pregnant people. Of those, only one is having a girl. I find out next week. I bet it's another boy. I really have no basis for that. I'm carrying the same, but everything else is different.

I HATE my hair. When I was pregnant with Ethan, my hair was all flowing and shiny and gorgeous. This time it looks like I dyed it with cheap hair dye and removed all the natural luster. I have NOT dyed my hair. It awful.

I can't get to the gym to save my life. I'm averaging twice a week. And while I may have an aunt that feels compelled to leave me posts about how tiny I am and how she hopes this baby puts some meat on my bones, I'm not inclined to agree. I realize and have no problem with the fact that gaining weight is a necessary evil. However, I'm no dummy and this isn't my first time out of the shoot. I also know that the extra FAT I gain now will not go away just because baby popped on out. I'm wisely shooting for that 30lb. mark. No more. Gaining the fat is much easier than losing it. I think we can all agree on that point. And let me say, I can already see the rolls taking shape on my back!

I watched Food Inc the other night. For those that believe this movie is about nothing more than treatment of animals, you couldn't be more wrong. Sure it's in there, but it does not make up the bulk of the movie. It's about the food industry. It makes me happy that I have deer in the freezer, get my pig from a friend, and buy organic fruits and vegetables. In fact, I'm getting SO into this stuff, that I've considered starting a different blog so I don't drive people crazy here. Of course, I barely have time to post to this blog, so I'll really have to consider that a little more before I go with it!

And here are some adorable pics of my first born....and very adorable 3-year-old.

Family Picture. Ethan HAD to be on his Trike.

Sitting in front of the Christmas tree.

I asked him to smile. This is what I got.

He was getting a little tired of me snapping shots.

Ethan still isn't quite sure what to make of my growing tummy. Whenever he sees my tummy, he asks if the baby has grown enough to come out.

Once Upon a Time....A Boy Turned Three

2011-12-07T07:58:00.000-08:00

Okay, Ethan turned 3 way back in October. However, we didn't have a working computer to upload our pictures to from the camera, so I failed to post any pictures.

I didn't do anything spectacular for his birthday. We went to my mother-in-law's because it would be easier for my mom and family to come there for his birthday, and since Mom was moving to California, I wanted her to see him before she went. I didn't realize she'd move back a month later! So here are some pictures from that wonderful day.

Happy boy about to blow out candles on his train cake

Ethan with his cousin Lillyan. She was about 1.5 months

My little super hero boy!

Thomas the Train Busy Book. One of his BEST presents. He loves this thing.

Thomas the Train Wooden Railways from Mom & Dad. Santa will soon be adding to the collection.

And while this next one isn't from Ethan's birthday, it's pretty awesome for my boys. Clint got his first Buck EVER! It was a 9-point with one antler broke off, so it could've maybe been more. And he did it with his bow. Apparently, it was the perfect shot, so the deer went down fast, which makes me feel better about the whole thing. AND I have to say that with all the growth hormone, rising costs, and rising contamination in our foods, I much rather eat something that was harvested practically out of our own backyard (it's right down the road) then something bought in the store shipped in from who knows where. Anyway. Ethan was pretty excited about the deer, too. He asked all kinds of questions! I'm proud of both my boys.

The One That Got Away....Or Not

2011-12-05T08:41:00.000-08:00

So with my mother realizing that my dad wasn't going to live up to her overly idealistic expectations she'd spent the last 30 years creating, I've been thinking about love, long-lost love, and romanticism.

One of my favorite movies in the entire movie world is The Notebook. It's so well done and so back and forth and so everything I would dream about when it comes to that aching pull that makes it impossible to let go of that one person that must be your soul mate. You see? I'm a romantic at heart. I always have been. Hell, I'm a fiction writer. I live for imaginary worlds. For me, though, that romantic bent is tapered with my more realistic side. The side that's been exposed to things that leave it impossible to pretend the world is made up of pure, unending, unconditional love. I wasn't always that way. There was a time when I chose to live in unrealistic thought, believing that the world outside my home life was grand and built of everlasting love. And that's where this little tale originates.

I was in high school. Jr. year. I had a boyfriend that was way too old for me that moved all the way to Missouri from Arkansas when we moved because my parents were stupidly gracious enough to let him live with us. Unwise. I didn't want to be with him. I hated him in fact, but it was a sticky situation and I could hardly get out of quickly...what with him living with us and all. So I ignored him and pretended he didn't exist when I wasn't at home. Eventually, I made him leave and my parents told me what a horrible person I was for breaking his aged heart.

And then there was school. I had art class with this fabulous artist that I'll refer to as M. He was a little taller than me, but not by too much. He wore grungy clothes, which I was totally in to. His hair was so dark and so shaggy and so curly that I wanted to rub my fingers through it. His eyes were a deep, dark mocha brown. And his skin looked sun-kissed. He was like a walking, talking fantasy of hotness for me. He reminded me of Sonny on General Hospital, and I was so in love with that big, bad mafia dude on GH. Mmm....just thinking about it makes me smile.

Things started slowly. M helped me on one of our art projects and I happily watched him draw, soaking in every detail of his facial expressions as he created these wonderful things. We talked sometimes in class, but not much. I was still really, really shy. And one of my "new" friends, since this was a new school for me, had dated M for about a year before I was there, so there was some history there...even though she dumped him and broke his heart.

And then there was a Jr./Sr. trip. We couldn't go anywhere over night, so we went down to the lake to a resort. It was there that I felt a reciprocated connection. We fed fish. We played raquetball. We talked on the lake boat ride about the Earth, the Universe, Fire. It was so deep. It was so nice. I soaked up every single second, feeling like I had finally met someone who got me. He was so creative, so imaginative. He was so like me. I was smitten. And so we rode home together on the bus and then I sat in his car as I waited for my parents to come me up. And he gave his necklace. I was in love.

His ex, however, also chose to be "in love" with him and began a campaign that would ultimately do us in. Until then, though, I would go to his house on the weekends, and he would talk about how soft my hair was and beautiful my eyes were. No one ever said my brown eyes were beautiful. He made me feel special. We would kiss, and man, how he could kiss (I should say my knowledge was VERY limited at the time). For whatever reason, we never went further than that. And soon enough, little miss ex had convinced him that she was wrong to have left him and he went crawling back. And I suffered my first minor heartbreak. I had never felt so connected. I had never felt so comfortable speaking to the opposite sex as I did with M. He was on my wavelength. And he was a Pisces. We were two fish swimming in the same stream. We were just swimming in opposite directions.

See the thing with M was that he was swimming with the current, and he never turned around. I, on the other hand, was swimming against the current and refused to take the the easy way. I continued swimming against that current, which led me to college. It led me to my current job. But more than anything in the world, it led me to my husband. Because while I didn't realize it back in high school when I was so taken by this dark, brooding, like-minded man of mystery, up the river, there was another man that would steal my heart for good.

He was a philosopher and he loved literature. He was a thinker. He wasn't a deep romantic, but I needed him to temper my growing idealism which constantly begged me to turn around and swim with the current. That man is my husband. And while he no longer philosophizes, he's still my rock. And he still knocks me off my feet from time to time....totally by accident on his part, but I've come realize that's the best kind of fall. And so I'm forever thankful that my like-minded fish got away because it would've been so easy to fall in line with him and swim downstream.

Incidentally, I saw M a few years later. We talked, I still felt giddy around him, but I quickly realized we were on two different paths. He was going nowhere, and I was headed everywhere.

Sometimes Pregnancy Just Plain Sucks

2011-12-01T06:18:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I experienced some of the worst back pain I've had in a while. It was awful. I just all around didn't feel good. A lot of pulling. A lot of round ligament pain. And a pretty stiff headache. I felt awful really, but it's all part of it, right? I just wanted to watch a T.V. show and go to bed. As I start the show, my husband decides to go into a 30 minute discussion about what's happening at his work. He prefaced this with, "I'm not going to go on and on, but listen to this." He went on and on. And then he wanted to get a snack. And then he wanted to get another snack after we started the show. I didn't get to bed until AFTER 10:30, and I was TIRED. I was cranky.

Sleep was a mystery last night. Pregnancy has caused some serious nose congestion, which causes drainage, which causes coughing. There's not a thing I can do about it except get a humidifier, which I fully intend to do this weekend. However, that didn't help me last night. Neither did my 3-year-old that refuses to sleep in his own bed who fell out of my bed at 4:50 this morning and did not go back to sleep. So I was tired and cranky this morning.

We carpool. Since my husband took his promotion, he wants to get to work by 7:30, so we drop him off first every morning. This means I'm nearly late for work every morning if we don't leave before 7. We were in the car waiting on hubby when he decides he can't find his thermos. I got upset because he gets drop-off service and does not have to walk 5 minutes in the freezing cold because he had to park in the back lot. I got upset because he never has to drive the additional 30 minutes it takes to drop Ethan off and get to work. I got upset because I'm tired and cranky and my back hurts and I just feel a little emotional over the past couple of days.

So on the way to child care, Ethan keeps asking me for a different game on my phone. I tell him we're almost there and I'm not changing the game. I'm not changing it because the "paint" he wants is not on my phone. It's on his cousin's phone, and I don't want to explain it for the 100 time! He gets mad and takes his shoes off, so when we get to our destination, I carry him inside, something he hates, but it's 20-something degrees outside and I don't have time to put his shoes BACK on. We get inside and he runs to another mother and hugs her legs. He refuses to look at me or acknowledge my presence in any way. He hugs her tighter. My heart breaks just a little bit. And my child care lady and that other mother are looking at me. I just need to get out of there, so I say, "He's mad at me. Alright, fine. See you later." Tears stream as I walk back to my car and I hope no other mother decides to drop their child off at that time. Luckily I made it back to my car unscathed.

But here I sit in my office with the door shut with tears still streaming and feeling like I'm an awful wife and awful mother. I managed to piss them both off this morning just because I never get any sleep. Just because I'm tired and I don't feel good. Just because I'm overly emotional.

Sometimes pregnancy just plain sucks.

Growing and growing and growing

2011-11-30T10:51:00.000-08:00

So I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving. We spent ours in Branson, MO. If you're not from around here, you might think, "Hey, that's pretty cool." I live about 40 minutes from the music city (aka old man's land). It's not that spectacular to me.

But, I must admit, it was alright. We stayed in a condo with the in-laws and they kept Ethan each night in their room, meaning I got uninterrupted sleep. If you don't count the bajillion times I have to get up to pee! I won't bore you with all the details of our holiday, but I will say Ethan had a great time, and I suppose that's what really matters, right?

Here's some random junk I've been carrying around in my head....

I forgot what it's like not to fit through tight spaces. It's pretty funny when I try to squeeze in behind someone's chair all stealth-like in a meeting because I'm late. I forget about the belly, jerk their chair and am noticed by everyone.
Back pain. WTH. Man, I forgot how bad it can hurt to be pregnant. And if I cough? Well, those round ligaments get to screamin'.
Gonna try cry-it-out for my midnight visitor this weekend. He HAS to learn how to sleep in his own bed, and he needs to learn before baby gets here. It's becoming an every night occurrence.
I'm getting all crazy healthy and found this site called The Gracious Pantry. It has tons of stuff on there about "clean" eating.
I've decided that high amounts of sugar, which is in EVERYTHING, are no good and food dyes suck. Going to try to eliminate both as much as I can. Should be fun.
I've been talking to E lately about sugar, so he asked me the other day, "My chocolate milk doesn't have 19 grams of sugar in it, does it?" He got pretty ticked when I said it had 22. He knows it's bad for him and he knows I won't let him have tons of it. Little smarty pants!
Ethan is all about his body and what it does lately. Last night, in another sugar conversation started by him, he said, "Yeah, and sugar goes into my stomach and it makes it hard for my heart to pump blood, and then it comes out in poop." He knows that your body takes what it needs from your food and disposes of the rest....hence the "poop" comment. The "hard heart" thing comes from clogging up the veins and arteries by making unhealthy food choices. I may have a scientist or doctor on my hands here. He CONSTANTLY wants to talk about the body!
I'm almost halfway through with this pregnancy. I cannot believe it. And I find out what the baby is and if it's healthy in less than a month! Time just dragged last time. This time, it's flying.

Alright...random must end at some point. Might as well be now! Here's the latest pic...taken last week at 16 weeks.

So it's been a while

2011-11-18T09:19:00.000-08:00

One would think that now that we have a new computer, I'd blog more, not less. One would be decidedly wrong. Apparently, I have no more time at home than I do at work. I've accepted this.

I had my second doctor appt. on Wednesday. Baby's little heartbeat was 147. Much higher than Ethan's ever was. I've gained a total of 8 lbs since I got pregnant, with 3 of those pounds gained within the last 5 weeks. I think that's pretty good. I'm still hoping to stay within my target range of no more than 30. I'd be good with 25, but I just don't see that happening.

Here's the latest on my tummy growth. Ignore the crappiness of the picture. There's little I can do about my phone pictures.

On to other news....my husband got an iPhone 4s...a perk of work. I am trying very hard not to be bitter...and failing. I want one SO FREAKING BAD!

I have coughed for over a week now. I'm getting rather sick of it. There's nothing I can do but wait it out.

I'll be spending the holidays in Branson, MO this year. I am NOT kidding. Who does that? In-laws.

Moments that bring clarity

2011-11-07T09:07:00.000-08:00

There are moments when something or someone makes you take a look at your life and where you're going and what you might really want. These moments happen quickly and can be ignored just as easily as they can be recognized. I suppose it takes a certain mindset to do either. And lately, since about the time I found out I was pregnant, I have had the right kind of mindset for recognition.

I am not an overly religious person. I do not attend a church. I have thought about doing so, but have yet to take that leap. I truly feel that God will not hold against me that I don't spend hours on Sunday mornings sitting in a building that may or may not have been originally created as a church. I truly believe that God knows what's in my heart and will focus instead on that and my actions.

With all that said, I have struggled in my life to put my faith a deity that my mind cannot comprehend or prove with certainty. I have always talked to God and asked him to please guide me to him should he exist. That I know he shouldn't have to, but I need it. After every damn thing I've been put through and suffered, I NEED reassurance of his existence. Some of you may be condemning me to hell at this very moment, and that's okay, because as far as I understand it, no human knows who is going to heaven or hell. So your opinion on my eventual place of rest hardly matters (sorry for the bluntness).

And so there are moments when I am in place where I can recognize a push or shove. And I am feeling such a force in my life now. I have spent a lifetime dreaming of the life I want to have. I have spent hours imagining a life where I didn't have to worry about paying bills, keeping the house or the car, buying food or avoiding the embarrassment of taking food stamps. I have spent my entire life focused on ensuring I never, ever go back to where I was. That my children will never live as I lived. That I would not suffer the pain of poverty or addiction. These things have always guided toward an ambitious goal. I have been, and remain, driven because when you grow up as I did, you either succumb to that life or you rise above it. The problem is in knowing when you have risen high enough.

I always want more. Not because I'm greedy. Not that all. I want more so I can give more, if anything. But that's not it either. I want more because the more I gain, the further away I am from that life. I want to be as far ahead as I can be. The further I advance, the more secure I feel. I know money isn't everything, but when you grew up with none, it's hard not to think about it or let it be a factor in your every day and your career.

The problem is that the higher you climb, the less time you have and the more obligations you find yourself committed to. Someone recently told me that women need to get out of the mindset that they have to be the ultimate caretaker. I recognized it as a sign. Things in my work life have also shifted since becoming pregnant. I have seen opportunities pass me by, and while I won't pretend to know why, I know why. And that's okay. I recognized this, too, as a sign.

I have a three-year-old who thrives under my attention and adores me. Trouble is, I often find myself short-tempered or preoccupied with "other" things. I often find myself the victim of copious amounts of stress brought on by trying to "do it all." At some point, I will break if I continue on this path. It has to happen. Right?

So bring on the next sign. I went to a conference last week. I always bring one of those sappy books with me that requires no thought so I can distract myself from the fact that I'm so high above the Earth that should something go wrong, there's about a .0000000000001% chance I'll survive. But I had some time to kill, so I was looking in the gift shop. I came across a book entitled, Left Neglected. The back cover read something like...this busy working mom who is VP of HR is trying to do it all when an event brings about life changes that make her reexamine her life, her choices, and what's really important. I recognized the sign and bought the book.

As I read her day-to-day activities, I found so much of myself in her. I could relate to what she felt and what she was saying and the dream she was trying to live. I found myself questioning my own choices and my own life. And (SPOILER ALERT), when the accident occurred, I recognized how easily it could me. I check and answer email while driving. I text while driving. I drive on awful roads. And I tell myself NOT to do it, yet I do because every email and every text seems so vitally important that I respond that instant, lest I lose my standing. She lost her left side. Look up Left Neglect if you're curious. She had to rethink everything. I don't want to wait until that moment to recognize what's screaming at me right now! I have to slow down. I don't have to move at warp speed. I don't have to achieve the highest level of recognition. I don't have to lead an entire department to be successful.

And the thing is, I may very well do that very thing someday. But that someday doesn't have to be this year or next year or even five years from now. I have a lot of working life left. Why rush. Our family makes decent money. We struggle, but we don't hurt for things. Yes, I'd feel more comfortable with more, but I'm comfortable now.

And so as I prepare to welcome another life into this world and into our home and into our family, I am listening. And I have never listened more clearly.

FAF.....

2011-10-28T09:27:00.000-07:00

So yeah, a girl I work with, whom I adore, said yesterday, "It looks like you grow more everyday!" And last night, I had a reception for work. There was a girl there that has the exact same due date as me. She looks like I did when I was 8 weeks pregnant! I very small tiny bump...IF she hold her shirt down. I, on the other hand, have popped and seem to keep on popping.

I'm trying not to let it get me down that I'm just finishing up trimester one and couldn't button even the top button of my suit jacket yesterday. I am 100% in maternity clothes now. But I remind myself that I moved to maternity clothes fairly early with Ethan, too...not this early, but earlier than friends have. It's because I carry so low. Hard to make pants fit by any method with my stomach is so pouched out at the bottom. I did the same with Ethan. And I swear I can feel that little thing in there kick my bladder every now and then. Craziness.

I have no idea how much weight I've gained. I'm over my chip fetish, thank goodness, but I still CRAVE like a MOTHER some sweet, sweet tea. Yum. I'll post another pic next week. Maybe I can find one from when I was preggers with Ethan. Hmmm....maybe I shouldn't compare. I might get depressed. Kidding. I'm really okay with it.

What a difference....a week makes

2011-10-25T09:19:00.000-07:00

I have a lot of randomness going on right about now. I just spent quite a bit of time replying to comments I haven't had a chance to reply to....I'm a sucky blogger lately, and I apologize dearly.

I am starving....all.the.time. It's a problem. And I'm craving something but I don't know what it is. Annoying.

So we're instituting some cry it out tonight. My kid is killing me and it's either I keep crying or he cries for a few nights. I'm no good at this kind of stuff....and I tend to cave, but the hubby will keep me strong. Ethan comes to our bed every night. EVERY NIGHT. And you can't sleep with him because he's a little thrasher. You have elbows and legs and feet and whole bodies in your face all night long! It's impossible and I'm dying from exhaustion. It just keeps getting worse! So he's 3. He understands. He knows. He can cry. He HAS to learn how to sleep in his bed. I mean, seriously, when the other baby comes, I won't get any sleep for other reasons. This has to be resolved and NOW.

I'm obsessed with Pinterest. I've gotten so many neat ideas off of there. Now I just have to try them out. I'm not all that crafty...no patience. I have none. But maybe it'll help me develop some. Wouldn't that be something.

So I'm going to be a giant this pregnancy. It's already starting. Yesterday was a day of pulling and cramping and general discomfort. And so I popped. Check out the comparison between last week and this week. Oh my!

The forgetfulness dilemna

2011-10-24T13:04:00.000-07:00

So this week marks the end of my first trimester. That means I have a measly six months left. That's not enough time, I tell you!

I wish I had something exciting to say about all this, but things have been going a long smoothly, which is better than the alternative. The only thing of note is my brain. Or lack thereof....

You know, they say pregnant mommas are forgetful. The first time around, I thought it was because I was so focused on the whole, I can't believe I'm pregnant thing, but I'm more forgetful this time, and I sometimes forget I'm pregnant! It's a problem. I big problem.

In fact, yesterday, here's a convo with the hubby after I came home from the grocery store with the wrong thing.

Me: "But I called you and you didn't answer."
Clint: "Well, next time why don't you hand me my phone and tell me you're going to call me when you get to the store because you'll forget what we talked about right before you left."
Me: "It's not my responsibility to make sure you have your phone. Maybe you should answer it sometime!"

End of conversation with me getting really upset. I mean, I get that I can't play the forgetful card at work. I just have to look like an idiot. But don't I get a pass at home? I mean, c'mon!

FAF--Is it wise?

2011-10-21T07:55:00.000-07:00

So I've decided to join Brandy this week in a little Fat Ass Friday. Maybe because the title is fitting. After all, over the next 6 months and 1 week (no I'm not counting down), I'm going to pack on some pounds!

I mean, look at the progress I've made just in 11 weeks! And this picture makes my tummy look a lot smaller than it actually looks in real life!

I am already sporting a little baby bump. And I remember last time. I was BIG. So what's my stats? Well, so far, I've gained about 6 lbs. And we're not even through trimester 1! Almost....next week will mark the beginning of my second trimester. 6 months to go!

Signs, signs, everywhere signs.

2011-10-18T13:18:00.000-07:00

Bet you're thinking of Tesla right now. Or that I've seen lots of signs regarding the gender of the baby. You'd be wrong on both counts. Although....the title does take me back to a very intimate acoustic set Tesla put on here at a local bar many, many years ago before we were even considering baby #1. It was a great time....and a great story. I'll save that for another day.

No, I'm talking about those peoplw who stand on the side of the road holding giant signs. Get Your Taxes Done HERE! Greggers is Having a Huge Sale! Check it Out! Halloween Outlet Store This Way! $5 Pizzas Ready to Go!

These crazies stand on the edge of the road, or sometimes the median, and twirl giant signs half their sizes. They dance around like no one can see them...maybe because they're usually decked out in a costume of some sort.

I've sometimes wondered what I would be like if I was hidden away behind a mask so that no one could see my true identity. Would I twirl the sign and laugh when I dropped it? Or would I get embarrassed? Would I dance my butt off because I felt invisible or would I be terrified someone I know would see me?

I like to think that I'd let loose and really go for it. Jump up and down. Dance back and forth. Really shake my stuff. Of course, since I will never aspire to be a sign holding dancer, I'll never really know.

Every pregnancy is differnent. True Statement.

2011-10-14T10:18:00.000-07:00

They say every pregnancy is different, and while I may be just nearly 3 months into mine, I can tell you the differences are vast.

With Ethan, I suffered from migraines for the first 3 months of my pregnancy. It killed just about any excitement I was trying to muster up. Tylenol is like a placebo for me, and since it was all I could take, I was beyond miserable. It tainted my experience for sure.

With this pregnancy, I'm exhausted. I don't mean I've been chasing after a preschooler and working exhausted. I mean physically and mentally drained beyond a level I've ever experienced. Sometimes its all I can do to keep my eyes open. Seriously. It's a problem. After all, I do still have a job and naps aren't really accepted.

I'm bigger. I tried to hide this thing from my work people, but they were apparently all whispering behind my back about my "stomach" growth. It's a pouche. I big one. I can't fit into my clothes, yet I'm too small for my maternity clothes. Pain in the ass.

Probably the most significant difference, however, is my attitude. When I found out I was pregnant with Ethan, I felt lost. I was beside myself. I had always said that I was too selfish for children. And while we had talked about trying for a child, I wasn't all the way in it. I didn't feel ready. And since it wasn't planned, I realized quickly how much I was "giving up" for the baby. All of a sudden, I couldn't smoke. I couldn't drink. I couldn't eat or drink whatever I wanted. I had to take a pill everyday. My body had to change. And I was so incredibly jealous of my husband because he didn't have to do any of those things. It seemed so unfair.

And then there were the headaches that expounded my anger. I wanted it to be over. I wanted the baby to come out so that I could resume my life. Of course, I knew there would be changes but I had no idea how many. I could not have imagined how incredibly different my life would be after Ethan was born.

I feel bad for how selfish I felt through my first pregnancy. I feel bad because I feel like Ethan got the raw end of the deal. I was not happy when I was pregnant with him. I was angry and bitter and scared and bitchy. Don't get me wrong. I was also excited and anxious and all of those other feelings. I spent hours walking through baby stores and I never went to the grocery store without stopping in the baby aisle. I researched everything about safety and feeding and caring for a baby. I wanted to breastfeed and looked forward to it. I took childbirth classes and prenatal yoga. I was just so conflicted. Ecstatic one moment and angry the next. It was completely different than now.

With this one, I am excited. I am smiling. I am enjoying my pregnancy. I look at my belly and I can't wait to get past the awkward "is she pregnant or just gaining weight" phase. I am excited for May. I don't feel like I've lost anything. I don't feel like I was cheated. I don't feel like I'm sacrificing my life. I'm ready to prepare. I'm ready to know what it is so I can shop for it. I'm ready to set up the baby's room. Let's get on with it already!

I'm excited to see Ethan's reaction the first time he sees his little brother or sister. I'm excited to know if he'll have a brother or a sister. I love thinking about the baby growing inside me, and I'm not the least bit upset when I can't have a drink. I'm okay with it. My mindset is just different this time around. I mean, sure, we weren't planning on getting pregnant in August, but when I found out we were, I didn't cry. I wasn't scared. I was happy.

I'm sure there will be other differences along the way, but for today, that's all I've got.

So much to say.....but we mustn't forget Ethan.

2011-10-12T11:27:00.000-07:00

Alright. Now that the news is out, I have about a billion things I want to say. However, there are other things I should talk about. Like the 3-year-old well-baby visit with Ethan this morning. I must warn you....I'm about to be that braggy Momma.

Here are the stats:
Ethan is 36.25" tall, which is in the 25%. He's a short little guy, which means he'll be older before he can ride the awesome rides at the amusement park. These are the things I think about. After all, I like riding the awesome rides at the park.

He's just over 30 lbs. That's around the 37%. He sure feels like he weighs a whole lot more than that! Honestly, I was shocked.

BMI. I didn't even know they looked at BMI in kids. He's in the 50%. She said that's really good and they don't worry until they're in the 90th or above. So it's good.

Overall, he did great. He mostly cooperated with everything they did. Toward the end of the visit, he became the obnoxious 3-year-old I know and love so well.

And here's where the bragging comes in....she said he has a very large vocabulary and is very articulate. I have heard so many people comment on how well he speaks, but you never really know what to believe. And she had him do a couple things and said, "Wow. That's on a 4-year-old level." I glowed like any proud momma would!

I'm not a "Tiger" mom, but I do have high expectations for Ethan. I don't think they're too high, and there have been times when I've realized I am expecting too much. At those times, I adjust, but my expectations still stay high. Attain-ably high. Because of those expectations, I work with him. I don't expect him to just "know" things; although, he has surprised me several times. I drill him on stuff and ask him questions. I work with him at his pace. If he's over it, I move on. There's no point in forcing him. And, I praise him and get super excited when he spells a new word or solves a new word problem.

Overall, though, I think it's just Ethan. I'm sure that my encouragement and standards helps him live up to his potential, but it's Ethan that has the drive, curiosity and independence to pursue knowledge. I certainly hope he maintains that drive as he grows into a man.

Some Secrets Must Come to an End....

2011-10-11T14:37:00.000-07:00

So yeah. I suppose some people may have noticed my relatively MIA status. I haven't been posting. I haven't been commenting. I've been missing. And I'm sure I've been missing out on all kinds of good stuff in the process of my missing in action status.

However. There are times when it's easier to say nothing at all than to risk slipping up and letting the secret spill out before you're ready. And that's exactly what I was afraid of.

Nearly three months ago (August 18th to be exact), my husband and I began the journey of creating a new life. And by new life, I mean that come May 10, 2012, I will become a mother for the second time and Ethan will become a big brother to either a little girl or little boy. No, no, you did not read wrong. I am pregnant. I am 10 weeks, in fact. And I have to tell you, it was much easier to keep the secret from you all than it was my work people! They are some nosy peeps.

In fact, once I let the cat out of the bag, so to speak, it was already out. They all already suspected because the second time around makes a girl grow just a little faster. And I don't know if you noticed, but I'm a little on the small side. With Ethan, my stomach had a noticeable pouch by 12 weeks. With this one, it was noticeable right about the time I discovered the truth.

We are very happy. I am very happy. Yesterday, we had our first ultrasound and Dr. visit. Everything looks good and healthy, and the heartbeat was a strong 167. I got to see that tiny thing that's about 1 inch long hanging out upside down inside my tummy. That's an amazing thing. It really is.

So....there you have it. The news is out. I hope I waited long enough. I waited as long as I could. And tomorrow, I will be posting about the differences between baby 1 and baby 2. Stay tuned!

Nine Years? Really?

2011-10-05T07:23:00.000-07:00

Last night, my husband said, "Ethan, tomorrow will be 8 years since your mommy and daddy got married." He looked at me with a smile. And I said, "Ethan, you're daddy is wrong." Clint looks at me and says, "Is it nine?" And then, "At least I remembered the day." This is true.

So yes, it was nine years ago today that Clint and I began our lives together. Those first two years were beyond rocky, and I'll be honest, I did not think we'd make it. But shear will and determination to make our marriage work pushed us through the hard times. Granted, there have been other hard times and there will be again, but we learned so much, I think, about who were are as individuals and who we are together and how to make those things work, that I like to think we can weather nearly any storm.

It doesn't seem all like it was nine years ago that we stood in front of the Anderson House in Lexington, Missouri, on a cloudless and gorgeous day to say our vows. It doesn't seem like it's been that long ago that I felt so lucky to be marrying my best friend. That I was so confident in my choice.

It was very likely one of the best decisions I ever made. The second was waiting 6 years to have a child! Today, as I look at all we've accomplished together, I still feel lucky and confident in the choice I made on that day to tie my life forever to his. I am a very lucky girl and very happy.

Happy Anniversary to my wonderful husband.

Spelling and all that jazz

2011-09-22T07:31:00.000-07:00

On October 8th, my son will turn 3. I can barely believe that he's almost 3. He's such a little boy now, but he seems so small and so babyish when he snuggles up close to me. I guess that's why Mommas say, "you'll always be my baby." I know that with each year that passes the time is coming closer when he won't want to snuggle up with me. I'm trying to cherish those moments. But that's not what this post is about.

This post is about documenting Ethan's progress and successes. For a while now, Ethan has known how to spell "at". I've been trying to help him understand how to build words off of that simple word. We've been working on "at" words. And so every once in a while, I'll ask him how to spell "at" and when he does it, I'll say, "but how do we spell cat?" He finally got it. I said, "What does cat start with?" He replied a "c". I then said, then how would we spell cat? sounding out the letters slowly. He said, "c-a-t". From there, he went on to spell "bat". And that's as far as we've gotten.

I thought at first it was a fluke, but he did it a childcare and then that night in bath, he spelled "at" with his letters, and I said, "what letter do you need to spell "cat"? He looked around and said, "where's the c?" And then we went on to bat.

It's three very small words, but it's a start. I am so very proud of my little spelling bug. And we tell him he has awesome spelling powers because everything is about powers. He has pickle power, spelling power and brain power. And these powers are very important.

I'll end with a "power" example.
"I need to eat all my dinner."
"Yes, you do."
"If I eat all my dinner it will give my brain energy and I'll have brain power!"

Psuedo Bad Words

2011-09-19T08:18:00.000-07:00

I guess anyone who has experienced small children has probably dreaded the "bad" word phase. I mean, what if they drop the "F" word right in the middle of the grocery store in front of some little old lady?

I'm sure I'm not the only Momma out there that has tried very hard to find alternatives for my sailor-ish mouth. One of those is "freakin." Ethan has picked up on the alternative, and I'm not sure others find it such a suitable one. I mean, he does stand there and go, "freakin', freakin', freakin'!" Or he says, "what's wrong with this freakin' thing?" Yes, I know....but hey, it could be worse, right?

And don't get me started on the word God. I say it a lot. And so does Ethan. He says, "Oh, God! We gotta do something!" Or "Oh my God. What's going on here?" I suppose some people think it's horrible that I allow him to get away with such language. But, I would argue that I've chosen to take the tact of ignoring it. Because he seems to want to repeat (over and over) anything that causes a good or bad reaction from me. He does something I find funny, and I laugh, well, he continues to do it's dead in the water and I can only wonder when he'll stop. He does something that obviously upsets me and he smiles and does it anyway.

So I ignore these phrases with the hopes that no reaction will eventually leave his vocabulary...of course, I guess that means it'd have to leave mine first.

Sad, rainy, gloom-filled Friday

2011-09-16T06:58:00.000-07:00

It's all kinds of misty rain and coldness outside today. Seems fitting for a the day that I will go say a final goodbye to a good friend. I imagine there will be many tears. I'm keeping it together, but I'm not looking forward to the event. It makes my heart sad.

I hope my life resumes to normal soon. Time seems to go by so fast these days. I'm glad it's Friday. I'm ready for the break of the weekend. So.Very. Ready.

I have to buy E some tennis shoes. He's wearing sandals with socks on this cold, rainy day because I have nothing else for the poor kid. The cold just came out of nowhere. It does every year, though.

I promise to make this my last sad post for a while. In fact, I'll leave it on a good note. Things I want to post about:

Ethan's upcoming birthday in LESS THAN A MONTH!
Some family junk
Some news I'm waiting for confirmation on before I share
My love of fall
Pretending to read

And today, I'll leave you with an Ethan conversation:
Driving to childcare
"Oh no! You're going the wrong way!"
"No, this is just another way to get to the highway"
"Oh. This goes to highway, too?"
"Yep."
"This just different direction?"
"Yep."
"Grandma go in the wrong direction" (remembered from a recent trip with grandma, who always gets lost)
"Yeah, grandma missed her turn, huh?"
"Yeah. She not listen to GPS. GPS said turn around."

I laughed. It's funny to hear an almost 3 year old talk about GPS's and missed turns and going in the wrong direction. Such a backseat driver!

Forced Goodbyes.

2011-09-12T09:02:00.000-07:00

May you forever be free from pain, may the sun shine on you each moment, and may you forever be graced with the warmth of the summer. Your friendship, I cherish, and I will miss you dearly, dear friend.

These are the words I wrote this morning on a friend's facebook page. She loved the warmth of summer. Hated the cold days of winter. She passed away Saturday night after a long battle with various cancers. She had the cancer gene, as she often referred to it. It began as breast cancer and the battle she fought there put her in remission. It then evolved into bone cancer and eventually struck her lymph nodes.

There's not a woman I know that is as kind, sweet, considerate and optimistic as she was. Her heart was large. Her caring was felt. Even in the face of the pain and treatments, she always held her head high and maintained an optimistic outlook. I will take many lessons from her as I move through my life.

My heart hurts at the loss of such a good friend. It hurts even more for her husband, children, and grandchildren.

Oh, sweet vacation.....

2011-09-09T11:36:00.000-07:00

how I love thee.

So it's been the year of fun for Clint and Katie. In March, we traveled to Florida for an island experience I'll likely never forget. In September, we hit the mountains for a trip down memory lane and more.

All of these adventures are leading to the next step of our lives, which is yet to come. Yes, that's cryptic, I know. Nonetheless, I have pictures, but a little explanation is order first. So Phish...the band that brought Clint and I together, played a 3-night summer closer in Denver, CO over Labor Day weekend. A good friend of ours, I'll call him G, contacted Clint a few months back. They'd lost touch for, oh, about 9 years. My very first Phish show was in Texas with Clint and G. It was a completely spur of the moment decision and probably the most spontaneous thing I have ever done. I knew G, but I barely knew Clint. It began a friendship that turned into an almost nine year marriage up to this point. And so when G wanted us to come out for Phish, well, we were hard-pressed to turn it down.

Add to that the fact that our good friend L lives in Fort Collins and it was really a no-brainer. We secured the sitter and bought the plane tickets. Show tickets were purchased, and we were set for a wonderful trip to the mountains.

Phish played better than I've ever seen them play. They were AMAZING. And not much has changed. The hippies are still hippies and come in varying shades from clean I'm a hippy for the weekend to I live this life every day and don't have time to shower. And from, sure I'll have a few drinks to I'm totally spun out of my mind. You get it all at a Phish show. The music though...man...the music.

Alright. So we arrived around 12:30 on Thursday afternoon. The trip was non-stop from there. Straight to Fort Collins and then to the Fort Collins brewery and Odell Brewery for some tasters. Good stuff.

Then we drove deep into the Poudre (pronounced Pooter...yeah, jokes were made all weekend about that). The first wonderfully interesting thing we came across was a black bear. A.Real.Live.Black.Bear. And, um, we stopped the car, jumped out and charged the poor thing. That's right. We charged the bear. He was across the river, but still!

That evening as we left the Poudre, we stopped at Mishawaka. This place rocks. It's right on the Poudre river. It has some of the best music ever....I can't tell you the number of great bands that have played there. None while we there, but it's nice to walk in a place that has held such greatness!

M, L, Clint and Me at Mishawaka

On Friday morning, we hit the Poudre again for a little whitewater action. We were hoping a Class IV ride, but the water had dropped over night, so we got some gently runs with one decent almost Class IV run.

Friday night brought on the first amazing show we saw, and the bus ride there was a quick reminder of how crazy Phish peeps can be. There were motorboats going on....look it up.

Saturday brought Tour De Fat, a festival powered by solar energy and put on by New Belgium brewery. It was crazy. People dress up for this event, and our friend's roommate made sure we were included.

Saturday night, again, was Phish all the way. It was incredible and awesome and everything wonderful. By Sunday morning, I was beyond exhaustion. And so, we laid around until Sunday evening before heading back up into the Poudre to do a little fly fishing. Monday brought us home and it's taken me till today to muster up the energy to write this post.

It was such a good trip and so very nice to see old friends!

Funny thing....that mommy thing

2011-08-30T08:48:00.000-07:00

So Ethan could affectionately be referred to as a cling-on. I know I'm supposed to cherish the fact that he loves me so much that he wants to spend every single waking and sleeping moment with me. And I know that someday I will, in fact, miss this. Hell, I'll probably long for it when he's telling me how I don't understand anything and how much he hates me (or doesn't like me). I'll want just moments of it back the first time he tells me he's too big for kisses or wants to sit in his own chair. I know I will. Every mom does, right?

But as with so many of these parenting things, I am stuck in the moment, and it's in the moment that I'm feeling a desperation for just a little bit of non-cling-on time. I try and try to get him to do things with his daddy. I mean, what boy doesn't want to carry sticks down to the woods where there's a rather large potential for seeing the creepy crawly snakes he so loves? But as long as I'm in the house, it's a no-go. As long as he feels my presence, he wants to be with.just.me. We have meltdowns when I want to do something as simple as take a shower. If I go to the bathroom, he's sure to follow. When I tuck him in at night, he begs to sleep with me or for me to lay with him.

There are moments when I am so touched by his sweetness and hugginess and kisses. Then there are moments when all I want to do is cook dinner by.my.self. Too much to ask for? Apparently.

But as I said, I know this time is fleeting. I know he will at some point run from me. He won't crawl into my bed and snuggle against me and whisper so softly, "Mom, I love you very much." And I will.miss.it. I will ache for it.

Funny thing about parenting. Emotions are all over the place. I can feel so confined and constricted by his constant desire to be with me while also feeling so loved and cherished and special because of that constant desire. And as I type this all out, my heart fills with love and tenderness for my sweet baby boy and I long for the day to end, so I can see him and we can start these conflicting feelings all over again.

There are days....

2011-08-24T07:00:00.000-07:00

When the world seems to crumble beneath your feet. When things are so confusing, so aggravating, and so hurtful that all you want to do is go back to bed and wake up when it's all passed. That's how I've been feeling lately.

I haven't been around much. I'm busy, but I'm always busy. I like it that way. Trouble is that when things crop up that shouldn't crop up, I get too overwhelmed.

I know I've talked a little about my Mom and Dad. And I know I mentioned the other day that she's moving out there within the next couple of months. I can feel the pain of it sitting on my chest. I know it doesn't make sense to a lot of people as to why this would cause me so much heartache, but it does. It hurts.

I'm not quite ready to talk about it. I'm hurt, angry, confused and a whole host of other emotions that I can't even sort them out myself. I want to scream at my siblings for their, "if it makes her happy" comments, and their, "she's sacrificed so much." I want them to understand what I'm going through. I want someone to understand. But just as many things that have happened in my life, you can't understand unless you have a frame of reference for it. I suppose I should be happy, then, that most people don't have a frame of reference.

Ethanisms.

2011-08-23T13:17:00.000-07:00

Last night Ethan said, "When I grow up, I'm gonna pick up my bed." Hmm...guess at his age, that's an acceptable goal.

Ethan, like all 2-year-old boys, is into everything. He has a mind of his own. When I tell him to get down or go into the other room, he says, "I am, Mom. Chill out!" Totally his dad's influence.

At random, he gets all excited and scared and says, "I hear something!" I ask him what, and he acts like he's listening very intently to whatever is making a noise. Then he says, "It's a worm." Hmm...he's a little obsessed with worms.

We went to my MIL's place this past weekend. She let him take home these giant spiders that used to hang in her 5th grade science classroom. He loves those things, so now I have to play spiders all the time. I guess that's better than "Pickle Power," which about drove me crazy.

And finally....

I'm tired of telling stories all the way to childcare and all the way home. So I instituted a new rule. We can't tell stories on the crazy road. This new rule of helped out by my accidentally running off the road one morning (I didn't wreck). So now when he asks, I say, "I can't. We're on the crazy road." He insists, and I say, "I don't make up the crazy road rules." Most often than not, the conversation goes as follows:
"We're on the crazy road?"
"Yep."
"Can't tell stories on the crazy road," shaking his head.
Then we get to the highway and he says, "We're getting off the crazy road!"
"Yep."
"We're on the high road!"
"Yep."
"You can tell me a story on the high road. Can you tell me a story?"

Smart bug.

Newborns, and other stuff

2011-08-22T11:46:00.000-07:00

I've had a lot going on lately. Let's see....

School started today, which means I had to walk about 10 miles from where I parked (I'm exaggerating, but it was a long way!)

I haven't slept in days! Days, I tell you. Ethan is all about coming to our bed late at night and I'm not going to bed early enough. Something's gotta give. I think I'll have to readjust my bedtime.

Ethan has had a couple accidents in the past week. But just two. I think we're doing pretty well. I mean, he did make it on a 3-hour drive to the in-laws place with just his underwear on and no accidents.

I have to take his paci soon. I think it's making him wake up at night. He wakes, can't find it, looks for it, and is awake enough at that point to stumble into our room. That and he'll be 3 soon. Very soon. Which is scary enough as it is.

Mom is moving to California in like a month, but that's a post of its own!

My sister had her baby. Last Sunday I went up there because we thought she was going to have it, and my mom was in California. Progress stopped, but her water was flush with her cervix, so it was very possible it'd break soon. She was also 4cm dilated. Mom got home Tuesday. Her water broke Wednesday. I went up over the weekend to see Lillyan and help my little sister with the whole breastfeeding thing. She was, still is, having a hard time with it.

Newborns are precious, but they remind me of the days when I looked like their momma's. Zombie-like. Poor Priscilla didn't realize the immense amount of sleep deprivation she'd encounter upon the birth of her daughter. Nothing, nothing, can prepare you for that one! She was in labor all of 3 hours and is bragging because she did it all natural. I told her to go for 24 hours with pitocin, then we could talk. Silly girl. I am happy for her, though. I wouldn't wish a 24 or longer labor on anyone!

Here's some pictures of the sweet baby girl. Lillyan Ann Coope, 6 lbs 6oz. 19 inches long. She's a little thing:

The things....

2011-08-09T10:45:00.000-07:00

I'm in a funk, I guess you could say. I'm tired, tired, tired and just can't seem to get the desire to write all these meaningful posts I have rattling around in my little brain.

But I feel I should at least get a few things jotted down and out of my brain. So here's the brain dump.

Ethan is potty trained. Well, mostly. Yesterday was day 1 at childcare (he was home last week and did wonderfully) and I expected accidents. He had none. He is still wearing a diaper at nap time and bedtime, but one step at a time. And as gross as it is, I have to say it. He poops in the potty, too. He's so incredibly proud of himself every time he uses the potty that I glow from the inside out with a healthy dose of Mom pride. My elation also stems from the extra $40 in pocket now that diapers aren't in the equation. He is becoming such a grown-up little boy and I love him to pieces.

Last night, Clint was talking for Big Ted and Douglas (teddy bears). He said "Read me the story Ethan!" Ethan was trying to turn the page, and Clint was pretending to be impatient. Ethan looked at the bears in all seriousness and said, "I am reading the story. Chill out!" We laughed hysterically.

Nap times are getting shorter. In fact, if he sleeps more than an hour, he won't go to sleep until around 9:30 at night. Not cool at all. I will miss naps. What's bites is that naps are mandatory at child care, so I will be stuck with an overly energetic almost 3-year-old until 9:30 on the weeknights. Don't get me wrong. I like spending time with my bug, but I do like the alone time the hubs and I get. Guess movies will be out of the equation for a while!

It's hot. Today it's 90 out and it feels like fall. That's how hot it's been. BLAZING. I hate the heat. The super heat. It makes me angry and sweaty and altogether grouchy. Much like the super cold.

My mother leaves for California tomorrow. She's going to visit my Dad. Apparently, they're in love. Who knew you could fall in love over the phone (the I want to be with you forever and ever, we were meant for each other kind of love) without a second thought to the daughter you screwed up. Whatever. I suppose if it makes her happy, I should just put all my feelings aside; after all, it's all about the mom, right? I should try that with E. I think he'd have decidedly different ideas about who is the center of attention in our relationship.

I haven't been to counseling in weeks. I couldn't go this week. I'm thinking about dropping out, but I don't know if that's the healthiest choice I could make for my mental well-being.

My sister could have a baby any day now. She's due September 5, but the baby has dropped and she's 2cm dialated, 80% effaced. Naturally, my mother is more concerned with meeting up with her long-lost lover than staying home to help my baby sister out. But whatever. I suppose I'll have to pick up the slack should she have the baby when Mom is gone.

The hubs left today for a conference. That means I'll be "single momming" it till Sunday. We'll be fine, but I never, ever sleep well when Clint's gone. I have an over active imagination that leads me imagine scenarios in which someone breaks into my house. I have to have a "get out quick" plan, and since I've never ran through the plan, I'm not sure it would work. We have guns, but they're locked away and the bullets are no where near them. Not doing me a lot of good should someone break in. I'm just hoping the house alarm will chase them off. See? I'm already thinking in terms of when it happens. This does not bode well for my sleep tonight. And don't even get my started on the storms.

I'm a sucky gardener. My garden is full of weeds. They're taller than my plants. So tall that I don't want to go out there to pick the fruit. Too hot.

We're going to Colorado in September. I'm excited, yet my stomach is already nauseous over the flight. And then I have to fly again in November.Wouldn't be easier on my mind if I drove? I think so, but I sure do like getting there in a few hours rather than a couple days!

Something good, something good.....did I mention my son is potty trained? That alone is good enough news to keep me smiling for weeks!

Adventures in Potty Training

2011-08-03T11:38:00.000-07:00

Our childcare person is on vacation this week, so I stayed home with Ethan Monday and Tuesday. My mother in law asked if I wanted her to give potty training a try while she was hear. I said, I'd start on Monday if she wanted to try it during the three days she has Ethan. And so that's how this adventure began.

Monday morning, I told Ethan we were wearing "big boy" underwear. No more diapers. I explained about peeing in the potty. And I pulled the potty into the living room, hoping that would help. About mid-morning, I asked Ethan to sit on the potty and I turned on a TV show. I went into the kitchen, and all of a sudden, Ethan yelled, "Mom! I doing it!" I ran in and sure enough there was a tiny, tiny bit of pee-pee in the potty. I asked him to keep going, and he did....a little. I danced, I clapped, I hugged, and I kissed. I told him how very proud I was. The excitement on his face was something I'll never forget. The smile he wore, the way his eyes lit up. It was awesome! Who knew you could get so excited about pee-pee in the potty!

Naturally, this called for a celebration, so we left with enough time to stop by McDonald's for a 49 cent ice cream cone. He deserved it! Later that day, Ethan peed in the potty again. And then he peed on the floor. It's bound to happen. 2 in the potty and 1 on floor. Not bad for day 1.

Here comes Tuesday. Again, we started our morning by replacing his diaper with undies. Around 9:30, he came running out of his room saying, "Mom, I pee little bit in my underwear. Gotta get on potty!" He held it in till he sat on the potty. I was amazed. We danced. We clapped. We kissed and hugged. About an hour later, we threw two major fits and peed on the floor while throwing them. He was distraught, but we talked about how accidents happen and that's okay.

He went again yesterday evening (he peed during nap time in a pull-up) in the potty. He went twice in the potty this morning. He's ecstatic. I'm ecstatic. And while there's been no of the "other" to speak of, I think the two packages of diapers I have left just might see me through! Woo-hoo!

But I'm not silly. I know the road isn't over. I know he doesn't have it whipped. There will be accidents. There will be frustration, but I think we're off to a damn good start!

Oh, and here's a tiny conversation that happened on the way to the dentist yesterday:
"Ethan, you're going to the dentist for the first time ever today."
"Yeah, and they will look at my brain?"

He was serious.

Finding my way....

2011-07-28T09:08:00.000-07:00

I always wanted to be a writer. Throughout my teenage years, I spent many nights sitting at my kitchen table working on my "novel." This novel existed in a spiral-bound notebook; my writing utensil was an old-fashioned pen. We had no computer, and I didn't need one. Just me, my paper, and my pen.

I still have that "almost-finished" story. The ink is a bit faded and the words are sloppy, but it's something I can be proud of. Something I am proud of. It was a dream to me. Believing myself to be a great writer and watching a friends got sucked in to the characters and the words I created. I often wonder what they were thinking because when I read that story now, it sounds like a teenager wrote it. The dialogue is choppy; the details are limited.

I remember how much confidence I had going in to my first creative writing class and how crushed I was when I got my first story back. Wow! I can't believe how much I cried. My little writing soul was crushed and doubt found its way in. But as I continued that class and met other writers, I learned a valuable lesson. It was completely unproductive to take the criticism as a personal attack on me. The criticism was meant for the writing, not the person. And it was constructive. By learning to see it objectively, I could take what I valued and apply it to become a better writer.

For the writer, constructive criticism is a necessity. Yes, I am my hardest critic, but it's others that can really see the holes. It's in listening to what they're missing or misinterpreting that really helps me grow. Learning this valuable lesson, I continued on my chosen path and still held hope that I would someday be that famous writer I had dreamed about.

And then life happened. I graduated and needed job. I got married. I went back to grad school with a different emphasis. My writing got lost. I got lost. Every now and then, I revisit this thing I loved so much. This thing that got me through so much. And every time I take the time to develop my characters and tell their story, I feel good and energized. And I promise that I'll keep at it.

The trouble is I work. I go to school. I mommy. I wife. Finding the place for "I write" isn't always easy, but I want to. I want to find my way back to that place because I am a writer and writing feeds my soul. I can look at my current pieces and know that they are good. They make sense. I know the dialogue is spot on. And while I know my details need a little help, they've improved immensely since my teenage years and since that first creative writing class.

I may never be a famous author--there's a lot of competition out there--but I have no doubt that I have what it takes to at least get a book or two published. I'm not looking to make a living off of my writing anymore. I am a realist. But wouldn't it be nice to have a couple books on the shelf with my name on them?

Even bad moms have good moments.

2011-07-27T12:20:00.000-07:00

I haven't been very secretive about my childhood or my mother. I've likely portrayed her as an awful human being not worthy of the four children she had. Man, that sounds harsh!

But my mom wasn't always awful. And I don't doubt that she loved us in her own way. I don't doubt that she still does. And so today I'm going to share a simple, yet telling story.

I have a fear of things that sting. Wasps, bees, scorpions. If it can sting me, I run with my arms flailing in the air. Strange that I don't have the same affliction to spiders or snakes or other creepy crawlies, but I've always feared the stingers.

So you can imagine the fear that raged within my tiny 8-year-old body when a wasp, not just any wasp but a red wasp, landed on my leg and climbed up my jumper. I was frozen. I could feel it crawling on me. I wanted to run, but I couldn't move. Paralyzed with fear, I screamed. I screamed louder than I've ever screamed. My mom was there in seconds. How she got from our second story apartment to me that fast, only a mother can understand. But there she stood with fear etched on her face until she realized I wasn't actually hurt. YET!

I, through sobs, told her about the wasp, and she soothingly said, "okay, it's okay. We'll get it out of there. I won't let him sting you." While I know now it wasn't a promise she had any control over, I believed her at the time. And so very slowly, she unbuttoned the shoulder of my jumper and began to slowly peel it down. The wasp was now at my hip. I shook, and she laughed a nervous laugh and said, "honey, it'll be fine. Be still." And she continued to slowly peel back the jumper until she could see the wasp. And then the wasp, as quickly as it landed, flew away. And my nightmare was over. She hugged me in her arms and told me everything was fine. There was no need to cry anymore.

And while that might not sound like such a sweet moment, it's one that sticks with me because the love and sincerity in my mother's voice was so genuine and so real.

Don't bribe your kids.

2011-07-19T08:31:00.000-07:00

It's a common phrase given my well-meaning people that probably don't have children or were blessed with those timid little creatures that listen to every word uttered from their parents' mouths. But what about the rest of us?

I read article after article when I was pregnant about how to raise children. The what's and what-not's in the world of navigating toddlers and preschoolers. How to avoid the fits and raise children that understand not everything is rewarded. There's a fear of creating that child that feels like every movement he makes is deserving of reward. Throughout Ethan's short life, I have read even more about potty training and NOT using treats to "bribe" him to go potty. Oh, and apparently it's a no-no to say, "If you're good, you'll get (insert treat)."

I'm rather convinced the experts don't have kids. And I'd be hard pressed to believe that if they do, they never succumbed to the above mentioned tactics. I swore I wouldn't be that parent, but as Ethan becomes more obstinate, I become more "bribing." For instance, Ethan is horrendous in restaurants. We wanted to go out to eat last night. So here's how it played out:

"Ethan, if you're very good in the restaurant and eat your dinner, you can have dessert afterward"
"Okay. I have dessert."
About 10 minutes in Ethan starts to get up. He's going to the "candy" machine (the devil created those damn things, I swear).
"Ethan, remember dessert." He comes back over to sit down. He ate his dinner and while he wasn't perfect by any means, the last time we were there, I had to physically remove him from the restaurant because he was running all over the place like those crazy kids you see on TV.

So maybe bribing isn't the "right" way to raise my kid, but a little bit here and there might just keep me sane. And isn't it more important that Ethan has a sane momma?

So tired....

2011-07-14T06:45:00.000-07:00

I've been MIA again, neglecting my blog world and blog friends. I've just been so busy that I really haven't had time to think about the blog or much else.

Sleep has been elusive. I miss it. I think I have so many things running through my mind that it can't calm down at night and just keeps running and running and running. I haven't even felt much like reading lately. I blame it on school.

I have two weeks left and about 10 assignments to do. Okay, I might be exaggerating on the number of assignments, but really, it's a lot and I'm tired of it. I'm just ready for a break.

And so, I will probably continue to neglect this world until the semester is over. But I'm still here and I will go back to reading everyone's blogs once I've resumed to a somewhat normal schedule. Until then....

A romance....or not.

2011-07-06T08:30:00.000-07:00

Imagine this.....

The love of your life was the boy you fell in love with in high school. You were inseparable. He was the guy all the girls wanted. Bad boy, yet with a soft spot for romance. A charmer. And he was yours. You eventually got married only to soon realize that marriage so young was not in the cards for you. As time progressed, you both went your separate ways, coming back together occasionally as though you were drawn to each other. Other men, other women, other marriages, other lives got in the way and you drifted apart.

Thirty years later after three failed marriages and a dozen failed relationships, four kids, and a life-long struggle, you finally decide it's now or never. Facebook has provided you with the opportunity you've been dreaming of for the past thirty years. The scenario playing out over and over in your mind and in your heart for years. You contact him. Leave your number. Put the ball in his court. Will he call? Is it for naught? Does he even check Facebook anymore? And then it happens.

He calls. You talk for hours and you keep talking. He's always loved you, too. Your lives have paralleled in so many ways. Same number of marriages. Almost he same number of kids. Lost parents and jilted by family members. A history riddled with drugs and hardships and mistakes. And the reason, you both decide, that no other relationship ever worked was because you were secretly measuring them against the person you really held in your heart and no one measured up. It was meant to be. And in a few short weeks, you'll fly out there to reconnect with the only man you've ever truly loved.

Sounds pretty romantic, huh? Sure. If you aren't me. Here's the real story.

My mother contacted my father through facebook. Last time they saw each other was at my wedding over 8 years ago. They didn't say more than "hi." Now they talk every night and my mom is flying out there in August. You might think that this would be a good thing. You might think that. You'd be wrong. And here's why.

My mother took me away from my father. She moved away and didn't tell him or anyone else where we went. She didn't let him visit me. My grandparents found him when I was 7 because they needed him to sign custody (yes, he had some rights) over to them. My mother signed away her rights as well. Granted, he should have done a better job of keeping in touch with me at that time, he didn't. His fault. I found him again when I was 22. I spent a week with him in California. I still talk to him on occasions.

They have a history. They got married when my mom was 16 and he was 18 because she was pregnant with me. They didn't last and a battle over me ensued. My grandparents through their weight behind my mom and won custody with every other weekend and two weeks in the summer going to my dad. You would think a man who fought so hard in court would've have been pissed that the mother of his child up and moved without even a goodbye. You would think that anger would hold. Apparently it doesn't. Apparently, they laugh about it on the phone. Apparently, they've forgotten about me.

Maybe I'm being a little selfish here, but I would like for once in my entire life for at least one my parents to actually think about me! C'mon! Is that asking too much? Is it so wrong for me to think he should still feel some animosity toward her? Instead of saying things like, "When you get here, I'll introduce you as my first wife and my fourth wife." OR "When you get here, I'm going to steal your ID so you can't leave." Really?

Apparently in their quest to rekindle a 30-year-old love that ended in fireworks that went off too close to the ground and burned everyone involved, they've forgotten about the child they fought over, the child that pined over a father she didn't know. The child that hired a PI to find said father. The child who still wishes she had a better relationship with her father. They've forgotten or never realized how badly their relationship burned me. How their mistakes stuck with me and are imprinted on me.

I don't blame my mom. I've always known she hoped to someday reconnect with him. She's always said she loves him. It's about the only consistent thing I've heard from her. But him? Couldn't he be a little pissed for my sake? Is it so wrong that I want someone to stand up for me?

And so it sounds romantic, and if it was anyone else, I might think it is. For me, it's wreaking havoc on my life and I am getting quite sick of my family invading my happiness.

Fat Ass Friday...the proof is in the scale

2011-07-01T07:33:00.000-07:00

I decided when I set out on this little venture that I am not relying on the scale to prove my goals are being met. I'm still not. However, I am allowing it to provide me with the proof that "that time of the month" makes you gain weight. I had a physical last Thursday. I weighed 118.5. I went for a follow up on my stupid arm today (a week before my period) and I weighed 122. For real. Yesterday when I was working out, I looked in the mirror and thought, "Why is my stomach so pouchy?" I looked up that time when I got back and realized it's next Tuesday. That means I'm bloated now and have gained some weight. Stupid periods!

Last week I only worked out 3 days. Monday I had Ethan and Friday, well, I was a slacker. This week, however, will be 5 days again.

I can't do push ups. Not because I'm incapable. I just rocked out ten or more in front of my doctor. But because I apparently overworked and injured a nerve that shoots an electrical shock in my arm whenever I do them. So I have to modify, which makes me feel wimpy. I'll start physical therapy in a few weeks. Ugh. One more thing to add to my plate.

Today is my husband's birthday. He's 35. He wants to fish. It's going to be freakin' hot this weekend. Not looking forward to fishing, but I'll go along and let Ethan be the sign that it's not working out. :) Just kidding. We're going in the morning, so it should be alright.

Happy 4th of July everyone.

PS: I got some really cool stuff that I won in a giveaway over at Mrs. Adventure's place. I'll be posting about it on Tuesday.

Fat Ass Friday

2011-06-24T10:59:00.000-07:00

Stats:
Waist measurement: 28.5
Hip measurement: 34
Calculated BMI: 25%

Yes, that's right. My waist measurement has gone down 1.5 inches. I attribute .5 of that to that time of the month. But an inch of it? Yes, well, I lost that one all on my own.

I've been working out 5 days a week for the past few weeks. Well, I didn't work out Monday because I had Ethan and I didn't work out today because I need to leave work early, but for the most part, I've been using my lunch break to head over the fitness center and work my butt off.

Yesterday I had my annual physical. I have blood work done and all that stuff. Turns out I weigh about 1 lb less than I thought. That's an even 118. I don't intend to lose any weight. What they have us do is a lot of muscle building stuff, so naturally, I'm going to sit pretty even as my body balances out the muscle to fat ratio. I feel stronger and my stomach is slimmer. That's really what I'm looking for here.

On to the physical. Alright, so we compared last year's blood work to this year's blood work. My overall cholesterol level has gone down by 10. My good level went up, my bad level went down. Overall, I improved greatly over the past year. I attribute it to a healthier diet and less red meat. Or I should say less cow and more pig and chicken.

I did have to go over to get a couple xrays for a nerve problem I seem to be having in my arm. When I do push ups, I get this electric shock thing in my arm. Very annoying. Very, very annoying because my arm drops and I fall on my face. Makes me look weak and I hate looking weak. I'm too competitive to be weak!

Overall, I'm pretty happy with everything. Other than the fact that I have carpal tunnel. That's annoying.

Oh, and that my mom and dad have decided after 30 freakin' years to start talking to each other again. But that's a story for another day. Go see Brandy by clicking the button up top. :)

The land of make believe....

2011-06-22T07:29:00.000-07:00

On Monday, as we were eating lunch, Ethan told me he needed a bone. When I asked why, he replied with a bark and said he was a dog and dogs needed to eat bones. Naturally, I gave him the bone.

I've had to do things like this on more than one occasion. I took him out for ice cream not too long ago, and he told me that the big scary monster was going to have ice cream with us. When I tried to give the big scary monster an ice cream cone, Ethan looked at me like I was crazy and informed me that the monster was outside. He'd be back, but he was outside. Well. How was I supposed to know that I was trying to give an imaginary ice cream cone to thin air?

Honestly, I love this phase. I love seeing him (and helping him) stretch his imagination. I love hearing what he can come up with. I love participating in these imaginary happenings, even if I don't always know what's going on. And while telling stories non-stop drives me crazy sometimes, I love hearing him come up with the story. Our latest goes a little something like this:

Tell me the story about Ethan and Grayson on the big green tractor. And riding through the woods. And we have to stop for big huge snake. And then there was a barrel and Grayson say "Oh no!" And Ethan Craft say, "Turn the tractor!" Tell me that story.

He's that detailed. And if I miss a part? He's quick to correct me and then expects me to pick up where he left off.

I know all kids go through this. I know they all have imaginary friends and tea parties and pretend to be animals. For me, it holds a special place in my heart to hear him so animated about making up stories. I make up stories. I write fiction. I spent my entire undergraduate career focused on honing that craft. While I don't think it's quite the best career choice (I don't have a single book published), I will foster that talent and hope that it at least grows into something he can love as much as I do.

A Tribute to My Husband

2011-06-19T09:17:00.000-07:00

My husband isn't home right now. He and Ethan are at his mother's house to see his brother who is home for the weekend. But today is Father's Day, and I do plan to make his favorite meal tonight. And I feel the need to offer some words about the man I married and the father to my son.

Clint is the kind of dad any kid could ever want. He's the kind of dad I wish I had. He's patient, loving, kind, guiding, and fun. Ethan adores his father not just because he's his dad but also because they have so much fun together. They run around the house and play boom on the beds. He tickles him silly and laughs when Ethan tries to tickle him back. They snuggle as they watch the same show over and over again.

Clint can put up with a fit like no other. His patience is something I wish I had more of. His ability to be firm and loving at the same time is something to see. He loves playing kickball or telling stories or doing whatever Ethan wants to do. And the excitement and joy of being Ethan's dad is evident every time he sees him after a long day of work.

My son is so very lucky to have a father that WANTS to play with him and WANTS to teach him and looks forward to the days to come when they can traipse through the woods together or float down a river together. My husband is great in so many ways. His devotion to his family and his need to be with his son is something to envy. He is an amazing father and a wonderful husband. I could not have married anyone else in the world that could be more loving, more caring, or more sincere.

So while I may not see that wonderful husband of mine until late this afternoon, I plan to shower him with kisses and adoration for being such a wonderful man. Happy Father's Day.

I used to think....

2011-06-16T07:29:00.000-07:00

I used to think that 30 was old. I had a clear vision in my mind of what it meant to be in your 30s and what those people were like. I, of course, was wrong.

When I was a teenager, I measured success by someone who had a job that required a suit or "fancy" clothes. I have since discovered that's not always the case. My previous job was not without merit, and I could wear whatever I wanted (within limits, but flip flops were acceptable). I had an idea, too, as to how "professional" people acted.

And so goes my image of 30.

People in their 30s must be serious. Why else would they wear such clothes? People in their 30s stayed home and watched TV. They didn't joke around. They didn't dance around. They didn't go to concerts. After all, they were serious people with serious jobs. They never would have done the same types of things they did in high school or college. And they all liked the same kind of music. The 30-something music. They were successful people and successful people did fancy things like eat at rich restaurants and buy rich clothes and drive new cars. They were sophisticated.

Granted, I was around people in their 30s. My mom is only 16 years older than me. But she wasn't the image of 30 I had. She was a "different" breed of 30. The unsuccessful breed. And therefore, she didn't count. Because she did still act like a teenager. And none of her friends counted either.

Of course, my perspective has changed. After all, I'm 32. My husband is 35. I watch him sometimes and think he must have acted like that in high school. He thinks it's hilarious when Ethan "toots." He finds it funny when he does it. (I think it's disgusting and completely not what I expected from a man in his mid-thirties). He still makes up silly songs that make no sense and finds himself amusing. I still like to dance like I'm a rock star. I still sit with my legs crossed over in my lap. I still blare my music loudly. And I'd prefer to wear shorts and a t-shirt over a suit any day of the week. We don't drive new cars. We don't go to fancy restaurants. We don't watch much TV. We still go to concerts.

Essentially, we're still the same people with the same personalities. We just don't stay up all night anymore or have the ability to take off at a moment's notice. Being in your 30s doesn't mean you're some stiff that no longer has fun. It just means you have more responsibility and different priorities. your personality is still there. Maybe it's matured over the ages (maybe it hasn't), but that 20-something is still tucked away in that personality.

I'm rather happy to know that growing older doesn't mean I have to lose myself, even if I'm not all that happy about growing older.

I have a case of the blahs....and can't seem to recover.

2011-06-14T08:32:00.000-07:00

So I haven't felt like writing lately. Not just here. Pretty much anywhere. I just don't want to. I go through these spells, and I know it'll pass, but I hate it when they happen. So today's post will be brought to you (still by me) a little random.

I "liked" the Krazy Coupon Lady on Facebook. I'm still holding out that eventually the whole coupon thing will just "hit" me.

Yesterday I made the menu for July. Of course, it's still early, and I'm still waiting to get our pig that we bought from a friend who raises them (it'll be all nice and packaged up when we get it) to really know what the menu will be.

I have 2, wait 3, classes this summer. The HR class has been turned into a class all about leadership, which is not what the class is supposed to be. I'm pissed. That and they're k-12 teachers, so they'll treat us as such, which is dumb because I'm 32 freakin' years old and I'm in a doctorate program. Not high school. I'm not one of those people that wants to go back to high school. It was dumb, too.

We took Ethan canoeing and camping. I have a great post on that coming up, but I need to download the pictures first. We saw one snake, so I had Clint turn the canoe around so that we could look at it. I'm weird like that.

I just got finished with a Super Sexy Sculpt class. That's right....the plan is to get Super Sexy Sculpted. Yeah, I almost walked out because I thought I might pass out. It was by far one of the hardest classes I've ever taken. By far. I'll go back next Tuesday because I'm crazy like that.

That's all I got.

FAF

2011-06-10T08:20:00.000-07:00

Want to share? Click the button to visit Brandy and play along.

Stats:
Waist measurement: 30
Hip measurement: 34
Calculated BMI: 25%

Um. So yeah. My waist measurement INCREASED an inch. WTH! I'm completely, totally, without doubt blaming it on "my time of the month" and the fact that I took the measurement at night after eating a brat and drinking a beer. Although, those two things may have contributed more than I want to admit.

Nonetheless, I am rather unhappy about this turn of events. Especially since I'm about to finish up a full week of TRX and Barre workouts. Something has to give. Maybe the ice cream I eat every night? Blasphemy! Guess I'll be wearing my tankini swimsuit this weekend. The two-piece will stay stuffed far back in my drawer. Maybe next time, pretty little bikini!

Seriously, though, I have worked out every day with week....and with a cold. That takes some serious dedication. I'm going to continue on the track and hope to see some progress soon. I better!

Of course, if I wanted to add some intensity to my workout program, I could always take Ethan to the Ballgame twice a week. The boy could care less where I am. He runs at a high speed darting through people while I struggle to keep up. He never looks back and really has no problem not being able to see us. He takes independence to a whole new level. And when I'm not chasing after him, I'm wrestling with him to keep from climbing over the gate to get onto the ball field. He can't even do me the courtesy of looking at the camera long enough to get a decent picture!

He had a great time. Mom and Dad? Not so much.

Mom of the Year Award...that's right. I'm NOT getting it.

2011-06-08T09:09:00.000-07:00

So I have a cold/allergies/something going on with my head that's making me wonky. I haven't had time or energy for much, including reading blogs. I do apologize.

But I had to write a quick post here about how I'm NOT mother of the year. This morning, I packed Ethan into the car about 10 minutes late because he was all clingy this morning and wouldn't let me get ready for work because he wanted me to sit with him to watch Spongebob. Okay, so I didn't actually "pack" him into the car so much as I told him to go get in his carseat as I hunted for missing shoes.

Finally locating his shoes (I had to wake up the hubby that had to be up from 2:30 am to 3:30 am to do site testing for work), I grabbed my coffee and jumped in the car. We were almost to the highway (7 miles on two-lane country roads) when I noticed Ethan lean up to look for something in his seat. And I said....

"Oh my God! You're not strapped in! That's not safe at all!"
Ethan looked at me in shock with widening eyes before he replied, "Oh no! I not strapped in. I not safe. Big Scary Monster will come!"

Needless to say, I pulled over at the very next opportunity and strapped him in. Thank goodness the deer stayed put and no cars got crazy.

Things I learned while away....

2011-06-06T07:47:00.000-07:00

Alright, so I'm back at work. I also start classes this week. I thought I'd take today to share a few things I learned while on vacation, which was less about vacation and more about cleaning.

While I thought on the first day that I could be a stay at home person, I quickly realized by day 3 that I'd lose my mind. Unless I had a ton of money. Then it could be fun.
Other people's dirt makes me want to gag. I cleaned things I haven't had a chance to clean since we moved in. Let's just say I never want to do that again.
Having enough time to think about and cook dinner is nice.
I eat less when I'm at home. Partly because I'm too lazy to cook anything.
Being at home alone with no husband and no kid can be very blissful.

Yes, I sent Ethan to child care. Not because I didn't want to spend time with him but because I can't (won't) use harsh chemicals around him. And I used a lot of harsh chemicals. Plus, he's not all into letting me actually clean anything when he's around. Quite the opposite really. It's more about messing things up.

Speaking of Ethan. He has a new thing these days. It goes something like this:
"Tell me a story about Ethan Craft and Grayson and the big, huge snake."
Mom or dad make up some silly story about Oklahoma, Ethan, Grayson, and a snake.
"Tell me another story." We go through this over and over and over again. If I tell him to tell the story, he says, "No, I can't. I too busy," or "No, I can't. I sick. Story make me feel better." No joke.

I'll be catching up this week and can't wait to read what's going on in your worlds.

Yes...I've been MIA

2011-05-30T19:20:00.000-07:00

It's seems like a while since I last wrote a post. The week has gone by rather quickly, and I fear this week will be just as quick. (Yes, I've been reading, which tends to come out in my writing).

Last week was consumed with efforts for Joplin. A place close to here that was ravished by an EF-5 tornado, leaving many with missing or forever gone loved ones and a pile of rubble stretching for what seems to be endless miles. The destruction is great, but the outpouring of our community has been great as well. There's no way to describe the stories I heard and the heartfelt giving I was witness to other than to say it was nothing short of amazing. I fully intend to volunteer at a later date when the destruction is forgotten but the help is so desperately needed.

Over the weekend we traveled to the great city of Kansas City to see a band we will likely never see again. A band that holds so many memories for my husband, myself, and many, many of my dear friends. This year marks their 25th anniversary, and they've decided that while the run has been good, it's time to shut it down to live a life of normalcy marked by seasons rather than tours. I am sad to see such a great band go, yet I understand the need to live their lives outside of the band.

This coming week, I'll be home from work to finally tackle a list of things I've been aching to tackle for months. I doubt I'll be on the computer much as the list is long and the weeks are always short. Next week, I'll begin my summer classes. Two classes for eight weeks. I fear I may not survive and that my husband will get rather tired of my absence for two nights a week, but my hope is that I'll come out of it with two As and the knowledge that another semester is put away and soon I'll have that doctorate I seek.

Until then, I'll be thinking of all my blog friends and wondering what's going on in your lives. When I return, I'll have to pick up anew, as going backward will be impossible with my upcoming schedule. You all mean so much to me, and I can't wait to get back into it. Until then....have a wonderful week!

Blog Meet Up

2011-05-24T12:50:00.000-07:00

So Ethan and I made the trip down to Tulsa on Saturday to meet up with Brandy from You Don't Know and her adorable son Grayson. It's a 3 hour drive and was so worth it!

Here's what I can tell you right up front. Brandy is as awesome in person and she is on her blog. We showed up a little later than anticipated, but wouldn't you know that Ethan decides to sleep in on a day when I actually am okay with getting up with the sun. Kids know things, I swear they do.

Here's something else I learned. Tolls can suck it. They should have a sign that says long before the turnpike stop that there will be an ATM available before hitting the toll bridge. I don't carry cash and I wasn't thinking. Something about having a 2 year old that demands entertainment while you're trying to drive that's just a little distracting. So I pull off at an exit to find an ATM. They kind lady informs me I'm a mile away from the stop before the stop. But even though I'm simply turning around, I'll still need to pay. Of course, I have no money (the reason I was stopping), so she gives me an envelope and says I can pay at the toll bridge. Um. I really don't think I should've had to pay for that stop AND the normal amount at the toll bridge. But whatever. It was only $1.75.

Alright, now that I've got that out, let's get on with the visit. I was really excited to get Ethan and Grayson together. Grayson is exactly two months younger than Ethan. I think they had a fantastic time, and so did I. It was so much fun to get together with someone I know so well through my blog. You already have a base to start from. You already know each other.

We went to the Renaissance Fair, which was a lot of fun. It was a little hot, but it was nothing a little ice cream couldn't cure. I like seeing all the people dressed up in their Renaissance stuff. And the jousting was worth waiting for to watch. Although, I am convinced my child is a spaz. He was trying to run under the fence and down a hill with a drop off and every where else. And let me tell you, that kid is quick.

The kids played in the sand, climbed an extremely dangerous tree house, and rode a horse. I'd say it was a huge success. And when we got back to Brandy's they played and played outside. So much so that you would think they'd crash. Not so. I drove Ethan around for at least a half an hour...but he stayed awake. Pretty much Brandy and I were relegated to our rooms, but I was pretty wiped out anyway.

Sunday morning, Brandy made me an awesomely delicious cup of coffee and I'm convinced I need a Krug. Yum. They kids played some more and around nap time, Ethan and I took off. Lucky for me, Ethan slept most of the way home AND we left early enough to miss the killer tornado that ravaged Joplin, Mo. right along I-44.

All in all, I'd say the trip was an absolute success, and I know Ethan and I will go back. Until then, Ethan will keep telling me, "I want go back to Oklahoma!" A phrase that he's been saying since the moment we left the driveway. I think he thinks Oklahoma is Grayson's house.

Here are some pics and a cute video of my kid.

The Treasure Hunt

Discussions about using a stick to find coins

My blue-eyed boy

Sweetness

My knight in shining armor

Grayson and his Daddy, Chris

Ethan, loving the horse ride

Waving at Brandy

He's probably talking to the horse

Yes, my kid has a paci. He was tired. Why fight it?

Running around like crazy kids!

And the video.....a singer?

Two posts today....First? Joplin.

2011-05-24T08:36:00.000-07:00

I have so much to say, and since I'll be volunteering tomorrow and Thursday and both of these topics are important, I figured I should do two today. My second post will be all about my meet up with Brandy over at You Don't Know. But this first one is about Joplin.

If you haven't heard about the Joplin tornado, I will assume you live in a desolate area that does not get the news or radio. I had a family member call from Arizona last night to make sure I was okay. We have had people calling from all over the country asking how they can help.

I am fine. I live about 50 miles from Joplin, Mo, which was hit hard by an EF-4 tornado Sunday. I drove through the area that same day a few hours earlier on my way home from visiting Brandy. I am so thankful we left early that day. The destruction is unbelievable. Friends have lost their homes. Over 116 people have died with more to come as they sift through the scattered pieces of once standing businesses and homes. Debris fell from our skies that evening as we watched the devastation appear on the news. For those survivors, many are left with nothing but piles of rubble. It's heartbreaking.

I am so fortunate to work for a place that's willing to spring into action at a moments notice. I started getting emails Sunday night that we would start doing something Monday morning. I brought extra clothes just in case I needed something casual to work in. Monday morning we brought in two of our truck driver training trucks and got with the media to let our community know that we were taking donations. And that's when the work began. Several of us volunteered to work through the rain and lightening yesterday to unload cars and trucks full of items brought by members of our community to help those in Joplin. Our efforts will continue through Thursday and I will volunteer Wednesday and Thursday because it's the least I can do.

To be a part of something so kind and so awesome is very inspiring. To watch members of the community I call home come together in a such huge masses to help a neighboring community is heartwarming. Car after car and truck after drove up to donate items or cash and I am amazed at the kindness so many people have. It's truly a sight to behold.

My heart breaks for the victims, especially those children that lost parents and those parents that lost children, but it mends as I see such compassion and love coming from so many people. I am thankful to call this place home.

And if you can stomach it, here's a first person account of what people heard as the tornado blew over.

Fat Ass Friday--And some random.

2011-05-20T08:18:00.000-07:00

Click the button to play along with Brandy.

Alright, so I haven't taken any measurements because I'm a slacker. Actually, I just know it hasn't changed yet. But I have been weighing myself on my own scale which I'm not sure I trust. It now says I weigh one pound less. Not much, but I'll take what I can get. I'll be taking measurements next week.

So I've been running/walking with my neighbor. On Wednesday, we ran the longest distance to date. I think we're getting into the groove of things. In the mean time, I went to Balance Fitness twice this week and pretty much got my butt kicked thoroughly. Day one wasn't so bad, but day two beat me up. There was a local magazine there to take pics, and I'm convinced the trainer was showing off. Okay, not showing off, but she kicked.my.butt. Not to mention that they wanted a full class, so 3 other trainers were there taking the class. Try to keep up with girls that do this stuff all the time. It's not possible. It's painful. I can't even describe what we did.

I took a friend from work with me (not the friend that got me the gift certificate for the membership, but a new recruit). I don't think she's going to come back. I think she was pretty sore. I felt bad, but the more people I can recruit, the better chances I have of sticking with it.

Have I mentioned that they keep the place a balmy 80 degrees? You get a room full of people working out and sweating, and the temp really climbs. Why? Something about sweating out toxins. So naturally, I googled this phenomenon and discovered that while toxins are exerted through sweat, it's such a miniscule amount that you're not actually sweating out toxins. That's what your liver and kidneys are for. Sweating is your body's way of cooling. On that note, you can sweat out some alcohol, but there's no way I'd survive one of these classes if I drank the night before. No.Way. I'd pass out. It's intense!

All that said, I fully expect to reach my goals as long as I stick with the class.

Of course, I will likely destroy any progress I've made this weekend when Ethan and I travel down to visit Brandy from You Don't Know and Sheila from A Little Dirt Never Hurt. I'm super excited about this visit. Maybe not so much about the 3 hour drive with a two-year-old, but it'll be SO worth it. And there's lots going on around there this weekend, so hopefully, I can wear Ethan out enough that he'll sleep that night. Lord knows the boy doesn't like to sleep. I'm taking my camera, so I'll post pics when I get back. Woo-hoo...come on tomorrow!

In the mean time, the crazy husband is going on his guys trip. 3 days and 2 nights on the river. So why crazy? Hmm...80% chance of thunderstorms today and tonight with an already saturated ground makes me nervous. Throw in some hardcore lightening, and I'd be remiss not to worry. See? He's crazy and trying to put me in an early grave.

Let's leave this post, which has gone from here to there, with an Ethanism:

I had to close Ethan's door two nights ago because he kept getting out of bed and it was late. Normally, this results in a moment or two of intense crying, followed by sleep. Not this time. He has a new tactic.

Door closed
Ethan: "No, Mom! You open this door right now! It bedtime not close my door! Open this door right now! This ridiculous! You hear me, Mom? Mom? You hear me? Open this door right now!"
Mom: "Ethan, I told you I would have to close your door if you got up one more time and you got up. I had to close your door."
Ethan: "No, Mom! Open this door right now! This ridiculous! You hear me? This ridiculous! My bedtime go to bed no close door."
Moment of silence.
Ethan: "Oh no, Mom! I poopin'!"

I won't continue this conversation. It gets pretty detailed. Suffice it to say he did go to the bathroom, I changed his diaper, put him in bed, and left his door cracked. He didn't get up again.

Giveaway Goodies and a Cold Snap

2011-05-16T09:13:00.000-07:00

Alright, so I won a fantastic giveaway from blueviolet over at A Nut in a Nutshell. I suppose not everyone would be thrilled to win a bunch of paper goods items, but I'm not everyone. I was thrilled. And here's why.

I was officially out of napkins. Now I don't have to buy more and I don't have to wait until the end of the month to have more. I shop for goods once a month.
I can never have enough toilet paper. I have a son who thinks its thrilling to put toilet paper in the toilet just so he can flush it. I've told him a thousand times that when he learns to use the potty, he can flush the paper down the toilet, but sometimes he gets away from me.
Paper towels! I use them for everything. Literally.
Flushable wipes. I'm a mom. And while that should explain it all, I also plan to use these babies to "freshen" up a little after my noon workouts since I don't have time to workout AND shower.

And there you have it. A wonderful, wonderful package of Scott paper products and I'm one happy girl. I should participate more often!

On to the Cold Snap. Alright. I live in Missouri. We're pretty well known for fluctuating temperatures and the fight between winter and spring is usually a good one every year. But this is getting (as Ethan would say) ridiculous! It was in the low 50s this past weekend. We had an outside event to go to, and to be quite honest, I'm sick of wearing a coat everywhere I go. I'm ready for a little warmth. And here's the kicker. The previous weekend set a record high! No joke. In the 90s. WTH! Get with it, spring. It's time to kick winter to the curb already. I don't really care to have my poor bug sitting outside all bundled up. Not that he minded much. He had a blast and all the running around kept us all pretty warm.

Because a prison sentence just wouldn't be right without calling the sister

2011-05-13T11:32:00.000-07:00

In case you didn't know, my oldest brother is in prison. He's serving a 36 month sentence this time around. It's his second "tour." He's in a level 5, which is maximum security. What he did isn't important. He's there and that's all that matters.

Last night, he called me. He called me because my mother doesn't have a phone. He called me because there was no one else to call. I didn't want to talk to him. Not really. It's not that I don't love him. It's that we don't agree with each other. It's because I tried to be there for him when he got out the first time, and he went right back into his old habits. He quit talking to me because he knew I didn't approve. He is so many things I'm not. He's a thief. He's a bully. He's a racist. But that doesn't change the fact that he's my brother. It doesn't change the fact that I still hope he'll eventually do something decent with his life. It doesn't mean I don't love him. I do.

And so we talked. He sounded so defeated. So run down. So tired. He said he doesn't want to live this way anymore. He missed it the first time around, as sick as that sounds. He said it was all he knew, which is true. He's been in and out of facilities his entire life. But this time, he has kids out there in the world and he feels like he should be protecting them. He's keeping his head down. He has no violations. Before he was in and out of the hole. He was moved from a minimum security prison to a maximum because of things he did in prison. This time he's trying to get his GED. He's trying to enroll in a substance abuse class. He's trying to enroll in anger management. This time he's planning a new home plan that keeps him out of my mother's clutches, who played an integral role in his previous downfall.

I want to believe him. I want to trust him. I want to have hope. I hear the pain in his voice. I feel it from his letters. I ache for him. There's a voice that tells me I need to cut my loses. Turn my back. But there's a stronger voice that keeps reminding me of him as a child. Keeps reminding me that he hasn't had a fair shake. That voice keeps telling me that he's my brother and family is family. It doesn't matter what kind of people they are. They're family and you just don't turn your back on family.

I, of course, can't be his home plan. I can't send him money. I can't be THAT there for him. But I can offer him encouragement when he needs it. I can tell him that he can do this. He still has time to change his life. That he can still be the father he wants to be. I can do that.

The Blahs...

2011-05-12T07:45:00.000-07:00

I have a bad case of the blahs! I have nothing to write or rather just don't feel like it. Maybe it's because things are winding down. I just finished my final yesterday, and we had our last class last night. I'm pretty sure I got an A in both classes, so that's something. We start again with 2 more classes June 7. Wow! My summer is going to be gone!

I do have a couple exciting things to share. I received a box last night courtesy of FedEx. I have yet to open it, as I got home too late and was simply too tired, but I'm super excited to get home to open it tonight. It's from a giveaway I won from Blueviolet over at A Nut in a Nutshell. I rarely participate in giveaways, so when I win, I feel especially special. I'll take some pictures to post tonight.

Yesterday I was pleasantly surprised with a membership to Balance Fitness Studio. Earlier this week I went over there with a friend from work to do the TRX workout. This workout is no joke, and it's like nothing I've ever done before. I fell in love with it! All I can say is AMAZING. I went two days ago and my muscles are still screaming at me. But it's expensive. Very. So the girl I went with and my boss went in together to get me a membership. I was already going to buy one and in fact, I almost did earlier that day, but wow, I was surprised, excited, and thankful. It's amazing how much people's kindness can mean to a person. I'm still blown away.

We got Ethan's hair cut short. He looks like such a big boy now! I can't believe how much a hair cut can age him. Here's a picture of that:

Not all that great of quality, but my phone is technically not a camera. And here's my current favorite Ethan face:

And finally, we cleaned out the garden last weekend (by we I mean my husband). Ethan discovered a garden full of worms. Sorry to say these guys did not have a happy ending once in the clutches of this two-year-old boy:

To finish it off, here's little Ethanism for you:

Me: If you get out of bed one more time, I will have to shut your door. Do you understand me?
Ethan: For sure I understand you. For sure I do Mom.

I have not been very good about commenting. I'm sorry. It's not that I don't want to. I'm just in a bloggy funk right now with everything else wrapping up around here. I'll be better about it soon.

Fat Ass Friday: Goals

2011-05-06T07:40:00.000-07:00

Click the button to play along with Brandy.

Alright, so I just posted my stats on Monday (I think it was Monday. Things are blurry). So here is how week one is going.

Waist measurement: 29
Hip measurement: 34
Calculated BMI: 25%

*No need to go back to compare. Nothing has changed and I'd be crazy to think I could lose any inches in less than a week. I'm not expecting miracles here.

I got up at 5:15 to work out 3 times this week. Monday was a bust because of rain. Wednesday was turkey hunting day for Clint, so those days were out.
I only worked out 2 times. I got up this morning and after I woke myself up, brushed my teeth, and got dressed, I noticed my neighbor had text messaged me that her son got up sick last night. Not much I can do about that. Could've gone alone, but that would've required music blaring in my ears meaning I wouldn't hear the cars speeding up on me in the dark with no reflective clothing on. I totally ditched it.
I have eaten crappy for most of the week. On Wednesday, I got a bag of cookies from the vending machine and ate the whole thing because I didn't want my healthy turkey meatballs for dinner. In all honesty, there wasn't a fork to be found in the break room.
I have another pair of pants to add to the list of " no way in hell am I forcing myself to sit in those waist splitters all day long" pants. Yeah, it's getting pretty bad. That list is now longer than the "I can still wear you" pants.

Goals for next week because I obviously need them:

Work out 5 days. On top of the morning workouts, I'm going to a fitness center with a friend from work. So maybe this should be workout a minimum of 5 times.
Eat healthy. No more fried chicken fingers because I'm too lazy to make my lunch. One splurge day a week is all I should have.
Go to bed earlier. I've been getting to bed around 10:30 or 11. When I have to consistently get up at 5, that just doesn't cut it. I'm exhausted and it takes away the motivation to stay on track.

Two people asked me if I wanted to run a 5K this weekend. I would love to say yes, but I won't because I know I'm woefully out of shape. Hopefully that'll change soon. Until then, I'll continue to look upon those pants I no longer wear with hope that someday soon I can bring them back into the fold.

Memories of a great woman

2011-05-05T08:00:00.000-07:00

When I was little, I was fortunate enough to be pulled from my mother's crazy world from time to time to live in the normalcy of my Nan's house. My grandparents were stable entities in my world. And my aunt was like a sister during those times, being just a year and a half older than me. While so many of the happy childhood memories I have are pulled precariously from the chaos that surrounded me, there were moments of peace. Moments of love and understanding and general caring. This is one of those moments.

Yesterday I got my hair cut. It's something I love doing but only actually do every 3 to 6 months. Long hair doesn't take a lot of care. I go to the same guy whenever I can because he understands my hair and what I want.

My favorite part of the process is getting my hair washed. Yesterday he spent longer than usual lathering the soapy suds. His hands massaged my scalp with just that perfect amount of pressure that made me want to close my eyes and sigh in contentment. And as I did close my eyes for a second, I thought of her. My Nan.

My Nan was the type of woman that came from nothing. And when I say nothing, I mean she hails from Stillwater, Oklahoma. Her father was not a nice man and she can tell stories about him throwing bottles at her mother. She married at the age of 14 and had 4 kids by the time she was twenty. Having suffered too long at the hands of a man she thought she loved, she finally built up the courage to leave. But leaving came with a steep price. She had to give him the boys and take the girls. Back then, there weren't a lot of people out there protecting battered women. Don't judge.

To make ends meet, she'd leave the kids in the car and spend her days picking cotton. How she ended up in California, I never thought to ask. But she did, and she remarried. And she was beat so badly that she left with a broken leg and a broken heart. Eventually, she met my grandfather. He never hit her. He has his sins, and I won't discuss them here, but for the most part, he gave her what she needed. He gave her stability and a home and the opportunity to stay home with her youngest child when the time came, my aunt. Pre-aunt, my Nan was a nurse.

Coming from meager beginnings, she wanted her kids to have more. She wanted her kids to move into higher classes. She wanted them to have the politeness, mannerisms, and cleanliness that required. In that regard, she was meticulous. We walked up and down stairs in high heels (pumps, really) with a book on our head so that we could walk straight. We had to keep our backs straight, our necks held high, and our butts tucked in. We had to learn how to set a table with all the silverware and would have us take out the china to do it. And she wasn't all military about it. She made it fun.

Every now and then, and I don't know why, she would have us climb up on the kitchen counter and lay down with our head over the sink. She would use the sprayer to wash our hair and she would massage our scalps. And it felt SO good. It was comforting. The water was warm. The smell of the soap was sweet. Her hands were like magic easing away the tension out of our tiny heads. And I always came to my Nan's house with a lot of tension. I don't know if she just wanted to pamper us or if there was another reason behind these hair washing sessions.

All I know is that it was her image that came to mind when he was rubbing the soap into my hair and I felt content. A strange thing, I know. But memories are strange things and they'll decide to show up when they want!

I know. Two in one day, but I had to share.

2011-05-05T06:35:00.000-07:00

I didn't witness this conversation, but I have to share it because its just too cute not to.

I have class on Wednesday nights, which means my husband picks up our son. On the way home, he says this conversation took place:

Ethan: "I am happy."
Dad: "I am happy, too."
Ethan: "Yeah. I am happy, you are happy, and Mommy is happy."
Dad: "Yep. Our whole family is happy." pause "I love you, buddy."
Ethan: "I love you, too. You guys are the best!"

Wish I wouldn't have missed that one. :)

a little bit of Ethan

2011-05-04T08:06:00.000-07:00

We had a conversation about eating squirrels. Well, Clint had the conversation. Ethan and I weren't really on board:

Ethan sings a lot. He takes after his father in the fact that he likes to make up songs. This one is about breakfast and lunch.

The longest by far (1 minute). He loves legos and sock wars (notice all of his socks scattered on the floor). And then he just plain quits cooperating with me.

And here are a few pictures from the zoo last Saturday. I took him to an event they had called the Teddy Bear Clinic. Kids could bring their bears to the zoo to get checked out by the doctors. Ethan's bear was given an immunization that resulted in a band-aid and then had to have some medicine for a "cough." When the woman asked what his bears name was, Ethan said, "Bear starts with a B." She asked "what's your name." He said, "I'm 2." Then he said, "My name starts with an E." So she called him Evan and he was quick to tell her his name was "Ethan Craft!" We had a great time.

We were trying to feed the goats and the baby camel when this tenacious duck decided he had better ideas. I tried really hard to get a picture of this duck attacking Ethan (horrible, I know) as he tried to steal the food from his hands. Ethan kept saying, "he biting me!" He bit me, too; it didn't really hurt.

Stats

2011-05-03T08:29:00.000-07:00

So I was going to post a video of Ethan talking about how he feels about eating squirrels. Not that he ever has, but my husband was talking about going squirrel hunting and said he and Ethan were going to eat the squirrels. The reaction Ethan gave was pretty awesome. But I forgot my phone, so it'll have to wait.

Instead, I'm going to take the plunge and post the pre-workout stats. This morning, my neighbor and I started C25K. We're going Thursday and Friday, too. Last night, i took my measurements and decided that's what I'm going to weigh my progress by. Why not use the scale? Well, it's not digital and I don't trust it. I stepped on it the other night and it said I weighed 116. That cannot be right. I know I weigh more than that. And if it is right, then that means I've lost all my muscle because I have too much chub around the center.

Waist measurement: 29
Hip measurement: 34
Calculated BMI: 25%

Alright. So I have goals.
Waist measurement goal: 27

Hip measurement: 34
(Apparently, lowering this number puts me at a health risk because my waist to hip ratio would be off. I think if my waist shrinks, this part will as well, but we'll leave it at 34 for now)

Calculated BMI: 18%
(In college, I had a BMI of 12 to 15%. I can't remember exactly, but I know it was in that range. That's ridiculous. 18% seems like a good compromise)

Doing just C25K isn't going to cut it for me. I will need to do some strength training to reach these goals as well. My weight won't be a good indicator either. It'll go up and then down and then up and so forth as I lose fat and gain muscle. At my best, I was a solid 116 lbs, but most of it was muscle. I'd like to ideally find that place again.

So the plan is to take this week slow with the C25K. Next week, I'll add the Pilates back in and the following week, I'm going to start a class at the fitness center that should kick some butt! Each week, I'll take measurements, and we'll see where that leads.

Obama, Bin Laden, and the American People

2011-05-02T10:42:00.000-07:00

I was not going to write a post today. I'm tired. It's raining. It's cold. I didn't work out this morning because of the rain and cold. I didn't feel very inspired. But after reading a few Facebook posts regarding Bin Laden's death, I had to force myself to remain quiet and consider how my responses to said posts might be taken. I'm not trying to make any enemies out there and don't feel Facebook is really the place to air my political thoughts. But I don't have a problem doing it here for some reason.

I'm sure most everybody knows that Osama Bin Laden was killed, along with a few of his henchmen. People across the country are rejoicing over this strategic success. It's been a long time coming and well deserved for that man. I was not a proponent of going to war with Iraq, but I was definitely on board that Bin Laden had to go. The destruction and pain left after his well-executed strike on the World Trade Center left few with any doubt that the leader of the pack must fall by the wayside in the form of death. Nearly 10 years later, it has happened. The man is gone. Yet all many of us can seem to focus on is conspiracy (my mother posted that she doesn't believe he's dead) or who is getting the credit.

Specifically, I have some very angry friends that are making the point that Obama had nothing to do with this yet he's taking all the credit for its success. Feeling I wasn't completely informed, I listened to the speech he gave last night on YouTube this morning. And yes, he said a lot of "I's." I confirmed there was enough evidence. I determined we needed to strike. I gave the final order. Well, guess what? I doubt those are false statements.

Let me say I am not a huge Obama supporter. I've never been a party line voter either. I am not a fan of the Health Care Bill. I have my reasons.

However, he met with national security people many times to discuss this very action. He was involved in the intelligence brought to him. He waited with patience and diligence to ensure success. He was willing to do what others were not, including McCain, and that was to cross into Pakistan without their knowledge to succeed in eliminating the target. Previous attempts to work with Pakistan resulted in a "tip-off" to Bin Laden and his people. I am in NO WAY saying the government there was tipping him off, but leaks happen. The point here is that he consulted with the top people in the military and intelligence organizations to make a tough decision that would lead to some much needed closure for the people of this country.

Was he right to take credit? You bet. Did he also give credit to the men and women who have been fighting this war since day one? Yes, he did. Did he also give credit to those he worked closely with? Yes, he did. It is the President's job to give final say on operations like this and without that, Bin Laden would still be sitting around in his hideout relishing in the thought that we couldn't find him. Couldn't destroy him.

Some (one) has said to me that we always knew where Bin Laden was and that this was a strategic operation intended to get Obama re-elected. It will take more than this one act to get him re-elected. With an economy still in the trenches, the men and women that are still suffering to find a job will not soon forget that they can't. With mom's like me having to get a prescription to buy my sick child Tylenol in order to use my health saving's plan, he may struggle to convince me he understands the American People.

Understand that I am not trying to defend him. I am just trying to view this whole situation objectively. The facts are that he did play an important role in the success of this mission. He did have the patience and fortitude to choose the right time. He did increase funding for the purpose of seeing this deed done. He followed through on that promise. And I can tell you that it's usually the top people in any organization that get the credit for the big stuff. My boss doesn't tell his boss, "well, I had nothing to do with the success of the project. It was all Katherine." He may give me credit, but he takes his share as well. That's the way it works.

Furthermore, none of us can understand the pressures and stress that come with being the President of the United States. He works for people who are quick to judge and less quick to praise. An elected official recently told me that you had to be crazy to run for office (any political office) because your life and every thing you do and decide is out there for scrutiny. That is so true. I wonder how we would feel if everything we did was put under a microscope. Granted they know what they're signing on for, but can you ever be really prepared?

The simple fact is that people in this country should be focused on the event rather than who gets credit. To me, it exemplifies our culture of entitlement. We are operating in an extremely divided political state. Nothing is going to get better or change if we cannot learn to look at things from the other side's perspective. Not to agree with them, but simply to find some common ground by which we can finally begin to work together. We should be rejoicing in the success of this mission. Instead, we're complaining and finding ways to demean it.

You may disagree, and since I am a person that likes to view things from all sides, by all means, give me what you got! :)

Gettin' Real with the Workout

2011-04-29T11:29:00.000-07:00

Okay, click the button and go play along. You know you want to. And Brandy is awesome, so you should.

Okay, so next week, this girly is jumping on the workout train. That's right. I may have had one ice cream, one hot dog, some mexican food, and a bag of chips today all before 1:00, but I'm just livin' it up before the real deal starts on Monday. I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, "she's said this before." And I have.

But now that the rain is gone and the weather has warmed, the reality of my neighbor and I getting up to work out together is much more, well, real. So it's starts on Monday. 5:30 a.m. we will meet in the morning to start the C25K. To add to that, I'm going to do pilates on Monday and Wednesday until the end of the semester. I'll start 4 days a week when the summer session begins. In the mean time, a friend from work and I will be heading over to do an intense 45 minutes work out at the fitness place across the street from our school.

I would LOVE to post my stats and hold myself accountable, but I'm afraid. Afraid for the opposite reasons than you may think. I am a small girl. I was genetically blessed. However, I am bigger than I used to be and my clothes don't fit. It's very uncomfortable and I cannot afford to go out to buy a whole new wardrobe. I may be small, but I still have weight goals and fitness goals. I would like to post my stats because I think it would help me continue. I want to see the progress. I want to document that progress. Would everyone hate me? (don't be a hater)

Rainy Mondays are not good for productivity

2011-04-25T09:52:00.000-07:00

So it's still raining. Been raining since Friday. Streets, rivers, creeks and fields are flooded. I'd love to ship the rain off to somewhere its needed. We don't need it and I don't need it. Rain=no outdoor activity=no walking/running with the neighbor=no progress on my goals.

I don't know if it was all the Easter excitement or the rainy gloominess that has ensconced itself on our home, but yesterday, we all napped. I finally put my book down and decided to close my eyes for the remaining 30 minutes left in Ethan's nap around 3 yesterday. I figured 30 minutes would simply refresh me for the rest of the evening and I'd still be able to go to sleep at a decent hour. Ethan did show up on my side of the bed about 30 minutes later. I picked him up to lay him beside me, looking forward to a few moments of snuggle time before he said, "Mommy, can you get up?" That phrase never came. He fell fast asleep snuggled close to me. We woke at 5. Yes, 5! Naturally, this meant normal bedtime was out, considering he slept from 1:30 to 5. So we had a movie night. We watched Tangled, which I thought was a pretty good movie. By 9, he was ready for bed. I was not. Last I looked, it was past midnight. This morning was rough.

To help perk up my dreary day, I just discovered that I do not have an assignment due in class next week. YAY! That means I'm down to 2 finals and I'll have one semester of this doctorate under my belt. *sigh of relief*

I took no pictures of Ethan hunting for eggs. It may have been different had we been able to go outside, but alas, no one wanted to slosh around in the rain searching for eggs. Least of all me. So we hid some eggs around the house. I put candy in some and change in others. Ethan loves putting "money" in his piggy bank. What's great is he has no idea that a penny is worth so much less than a quarter. I could give that kid a pile of pennies and keep him entertained for hours as he puts them in his bank one at a time. If only I didn't fear he might swallow one....

The Easter bunny was super nice this year and got Ethan a Spongebob Squarepants fishing pole. It has a jellyfish on the end, and Ethan loves letting the line out so he can "reel in" his jelly fish. I really should do a better job of taking pictures. Really.

So here's to hoping that 20% chance of rain tomorrow becomes a 0% chance or that the 80% chance of no rain will win out. I'm drowning here, people. It's gotta go!

My Review of 12.5" x 36" Sort and Store Toy Organizer

2011-04-22T08:21:00.001-07:00

Originally submitted at CSN Stores

Features:

Toy organizer
Combination of red, blue, yellow or green finish
Providing ample storage space for both small and medium size toys, books, clothing
Bins are removable from the shelves making clean up time fast and simple
Perfect for kids t...

Works Wonders For Organizing Toys

By E's Mom from Springfield, MO on 4/22/2011

We ordered this product because I wanted, needed, a better way to keep my 2-year-old son's room organized. Previously, we had bought big tubs to store things in, but when he was looking for a particular toy, especially a small one, he had to take everything out of the tub, leaving a huge mess to clean up.

We also tried using two shelves on his bookcase to store the toys he used to most, but, of course, then he didn't want to play with those toys. This is where the Sort and Store Toy Organizer comes in.

I have watched my son put toys away in a similar organizer at child care, so I thought he might do the same if we had one. The great thing about this product is that it sorts the toys. I no longer have small buckets filled with legos and puzzle pieces. Instead, I have one container dedicated to them. Another container houses all of his puzzles, freeing up much needed space on his bookshelf for, well, books.

All the small, miscellaneous items that would get lost in the bottom of the tub are now neatly organized in a container of their own. And my son is willing to help put his toys away and enjoys learning where each toy goes. If I'm a little lazy and not putting toys in the correct container, he's quick to let me know and correct me by putting the toy in its proper place.

With a thin, sturdy design, it's out of the way, taking up less space than its large tub predecessor. And it's light enough, even filled with toys, to move it around should I need to.

If I had to change one thing, I'd make it just a little taller so that I could fit a few more things in the lower containers, but I just put the bigger items in the top containers. And while some may not be happy with the bright colors, we find they had more character to his room, making it feel like a comfortable place to play.

Disclaimer: I received this product as a gift in exchange for writing the review.

(legalese)

The weather (and illnesses and hunting and friends and work) are against me....

2011-04-22T07:26:00.000-07:00

Click the button to visit Brandy and play along.

So yesterday morning, I dragged my tired butt out of bed at 5:15 (yes, that's a.m.) to meet my neighbor outside at 5:30. We walked for 30 minutes. Nothing spectacular, but it was our first day and we barely know each other. We talked about kids....it's a subject we both have something to talk about and we are in the get-to-know-you phase...while we walked in the dark. We were jumped by one dog. Okay, so not actually jumped so much as barked at from behind the fence that kept the vicious monster locked in. Okay, so maybe he wasn't a vicious monster, but he was no tea cup dog.

As we finished our walk, we decided that yes, we'll meet again Friday morning. Walking down our respective driveways, I thought to myself, now this is how you do it. Go with someone that will hold you accountable. I felt good and was in a good mood. So did I get up this morning? No. Because I'm lazy? Not exactly.

The rain settled upon us around 3 yesterday. The clouds turned black as night and the winds howled. This began the 6 days of rain we're expecting. Everyday there's at least a 50% chance. And when it's all said and done, we should see around 7 or 8 inches of the wet stuff. I texted her and asked if she wanted to wake at 5:15 and decide then. Her poor daughter woke with strep yesterday, so she said she wanted to cancel. I completely understand. We'll talk about next week this weekend.

But alas, I fear next week will be a no-go. Monday, the husband wants to hunt for turkeys...only there's an 80% chance of rain. Monday night, we have a friend from Colorado staying with us. And while I know we won't all stay up late, we'll stay up later than what's conducive for 5:15 a.m. Tuesday, I go to the capitol for the last time this legislative session. I won't be able to meet up till Thursday. The husband wants to hunt Thursday morning.

WTH! I want to get in shape and I finally find someone who is willing to suffer with me and is excited about starting C25K and it becomes literally impossible for me to work the 5:15 thing. How is getting up and working out at 5:15 so freakin' difficult!

And so, I'm hoping to begin the week after when things slow down. No more trips out of town. No more hunting before work. No more friends stopping by mid-week (although I'm very excited to see this friend whom I haven't seen in over a year). Maybe then, if she hasn't given up on me yet, we can actually get into a routine.

And so....I'll live with being a Fat Ass for one more week!

When did that happen?

2011-04-20T06:41:00.000-07:00

So one day, I was sitting in the living room. Ethan said he wanted some chocolate milk, and I firmly told him that he had had enough chocolate milk for the day. He could have milk or water. He, of course, told me no, that just wouldn't do. "Fine," I said, "you can have nothing then," and left it at that. He went into the kitchen and a minute later, he was carrying the gallon of chocolate milk into the living room telling me that he wanted chocolate milk.

I liked having power over the refrigerator. I liked that he couldn't get in there and just grab whatever he wants. I limit things like chocolate milk and juice and other sweet snacks. But now instead of him crying by the fridge for a few minutes until finally accepting he can't get his way, he can now get in there and grab what he wants and make our battle so much worse. These episodes usually end with Ethan spending some time in his room for not listening.

People said I would miss the days when he depended on me for everything. I'd miss the days when I could set him down and know he couldn't get far. But Ethan didn't play alone. He didn't like to be set down. He wanted to be held 24/7. I thought for sure that I would LOVE the days when he could start doing things on his own. When he would start wanting to do things on his own.

But now I have to worry that he's going to drop that gallon of chocolate milk and spill it all over the floor. There's something to be said for the immobility of babies.

Disclaimer: I actually am impressed that he can pick up the gallon from the top shelf of the fridge and bring it to me. I just see disaster striking at some moment with this new found skill. And while Ethan might help me clean up the future mess, I know it'll be much more on me to get the stickiness off the floor.

Pushed to the limits and struck by guilt

2011-04-18T07:25:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I do things I'm not very proud of. I think we all do. Last night, or rather this morning, was one of those times. Ethan and I have been battling. He goes from sweet, adorable, make-me-laugh guy to screaming, tantrum-throwing, no sleeping guy within seconds. The highs are high and the lows are so very low.

Yesterday was a low. He was a crabby patty (think Spongebob) all day long. He refused to nap. We tried a little potty training, only to be met by adamant "nos" and poop and pee in his Diego underwear. I threw in the towel and gave him what he wanted: a diaper. By the end of the day, he was tired...so very tired. He didn't want to eat. Well, just strawberries. That's all he wanted. He didn't want to play outside. He didn't want to take a bath, but I was able to coerce him, which happened to be the highlight of the day. Okay, that's not true. We dyed Easter eggs in the morning and that was pretty fun.

So when I tucked him in at 7:45 (early), I was ready. Of course, we had our normal bedtime battle and I ended up having to shut his door because he kept coming out of his room and running back laughing when I caught him. But he only cried for less than 5 minutes and then was sound asleep. He was overtired.

So I shouldn't have been surprised at 3:30 when I was greeted with a "I want to sleep with you, Mommy." I said no, he needed to go to bed. I took him to his room and held him for a bit to calm him down from the idea that he actually had to sleep in his own room, which is where he always sleeps. He went back to sleep and I stumbled into my bed, thankful it was short-lived. But alas, Ethan had other plans. He was at Daddy's side of the bed next....about 4:15. He put him in his room and shut the door and then decided he might as well stay up since he was getting up at 4:30 anyway to go Turkey hunting. "Let him come in here with me, then," I said, knowing there was no way wide-awake Ethan was going to give up the fight.

And so we laid there quietly for a while until Ethan got bored and decided to get up. Knowing that Clint was already gone and the alarm was off, I had to get up to close the stair gate and turn on the alarm in case Ethan decided to check out the outdoors while I slept. We fought back and forth, I saying he needed to make up his mind....either in or out of bed, and he not making up his mind. At some point, I snapped and I yelled and him and I put him in his room and I shut the door. He cried one of those, "I'm not breathing cries," and I instantly felt awful, so I opened the door, picked him up and brought him back to bed with me. I was still so upset and I yelled at him to go to sleep. I need sleep, I told him. He sniffled on the verge of all out crying. I grabbed him and pulled him close and I apologized. I told him I was sorry I yelled and I shouldn't have done that. His response? "I love you, Mommy." I almost cried at how uncaring I must've seemed in those moments of yelling.

He finally fell asleep about 10 minutes before I had to get up. I let him sleep, gathered his clothes to take with us, and carried him to the car when it was time to go. He looked around groggy, and I again apologized to him and explained that Mommy had made a mistake. That it wasn't okay for me to yell. And I also explained that he needs to start listening to Mommy when I say it's nigh-night time. I told him I loved him very much. I just hope he forgives me.

The Land of Diapers....or not-so-much

2011-04-15T10:59:00.000-07:00

Potty Training. I look forward to and dread the day we begin this journey in earnest. I had hoped Ethan would be there already. And I certainly hope he'll be there before he's three. Especially now. At the rate he's burning through those expensive diapers, my monthly diaper bill is going to double.

Ethan got sick a couple weeks ago and went to the bathroom so much that his little butt butt (yes, I meant to put two butts there), was so raw that even laying a cool cloth on it sent him into hysterics. Every time he'd go to the bathroom, he'd start crying and say, "I poo-poo, Mommy," and walk with his legs spread wide. I felt so bad for my little bug, but what can you do? Keep putting on the Desitin and changing him a hundred times.

Fast forward to the present, non-sick Ethan. Most kids we know started undressing themselves before they were 2. Not Ethan. He wouldn't even try, saying, "too hard, Mom," when I told him to take his pants off for bath. My reasoning in getting the kid to undress himself follows the idea that he can't use the bathroom if he can't pull his pants down. Be careful, though, what you wish for.

So we've been having some trouble keeping Ethan in bed. After the 2nd or 3rd chance, his door gets shut. This always elicits screams. And then all of a sudden, he said, while crying, "I need to diaper. I need diaper!" Of course, I went in because the purpose is for him to understand that it's bedtime (or still bedtime for those 4:30 wake-up calls) not to make him stay in a dirty diaper. I open the door to find him completely naked. The diaper is on the floor alongside his shirt. And so begins the new reality, which is ever-changing. All of a sudden, he knows I won't leave him in there without a diaper on, so it's his go-to scheme. Awesome.

And if he pees just a tiny bit, the diaper has to go. One night, he peed just a tiny bit, I changed him, and he proceeded to pee a bunch within minutes. 2 diapers in 2 minutes. I cannot afford this. So I ask, do you need to use the potty. "Yes," he responds, running to the potty. Only its a trick. He doesn't EVER use it. He just sits there and then gets up, turns to me, and says, "No, I not use potty. I need diaper." He's gone as far as to take his diaper off and get out a new one.

Now I certainly don't believe in leaving my child in a soiled diaper. AT ALL. But those things are made to absorb the smaller pees. Just sayin'. Ethan has new ideas now. He knows when he's going. He spreads his legs and says, "I pee." I want to scream "THEN WHY WON'T YOU USE THE POTTY!" I don't know if you've checked the price of diapers lately, but my plan was to use LESS diapers....not MORE! Now we're flying through them so fast, that the pack of 100 and something diapers I just bought is almost halfway gone. That normally lasts longer than a month. My checkbook can't take the extra hit what with gas and groceries getting more expensive by the hour.

So potty training. I wish I was confident he was ready. I just don't know. And people tell me when I ask, "You'll know when he's ready. Don't try to force him." Seriously? That's not very helpful. Here's what I know of my son. He knows when he goes. He wants changed immediately. He sits on the potty, but produces nothing. And even though he doesn't want any amount of moisture to touch him, he opts for a diaper over underpants. How do I know. And how much do I push?

Any thoughts, ideas? I'm taking anything at this point.

Yes, I'm a day late on the vlog....

2011-04-13T07:15:00.000-07:00

So my dumb phone finally uploaded this video AFTER I left work. But since I went to the trouble, I thought I'd go ahead and post the thing.

You start by saying the following words:

Aunt, Route, Wash, Oil, Theater, Iron, Salmon, Caramel, Fire, Water, Sure, Data, Ruin, Crayon, Toilet, New Orleans, Pecan, Both, Again, Probably, Spitting image, Alabama, Lawyer, Coupon, Mayonnaise, Syrup, Pajamas, Caught, Antenna, Rootbeer, Ambulance, Museum, Milk, Orange, Apricot

THEN you answer the following questions:

What is it called when you throw toilet paper on a house?
What is the bug that when you touch it, it curls into a ball?
What is the bubbly carbonated drink called?
What do you call gym shoes?
What do you say to address a group of people?
What do you call the kind of spider that has an oval-shaped
body and extremely long legs?
What do you call your grandparents?
What do you call the wheeled contraption in which you carry
groceries at the supermarket?
What do you call it when rain falls while the sun is shining?
What is the thing you change the TV channel with?
Where do you buy your groceries?

Fun, right?

I have lots to write about, including snakes, but I have some pictures I want to share, too....so I'll hold off on a few of them. In the mean time...here's a VERY short video of Ethan playing "Happy Birthday" on the piano. Of course, he's not actually playing anything, but I didn't tell him that.

And I'm trying to get all caught up on reading, but it's just not working. I'm starting over.

The Sweetest Thing

2011-04-08T07:50:00.000-07:00

And no, I'm not talking about the movie.

My sweet love is 2 1/2 years old today. It's hard to believe he's 6 months away from being 3. I get so caught up in the moment of now that it's hard to focus some times on the things that make this mothering gig so great, but Ethan does a great job of reminding me from time to time just how lucky I am to have him in my life.

Every morning, he wakes up and grabs all (5) of his blankets and brings them into our room on my side of the bed. He then whispers that he's awake and I pick him (and the blankies) up and put him between us. It's fleeting (about 5 to 10 minutes), but it's a moment for all of us to just lay there. Sometimes Ethan's totally silent and all you can hear is the gentle sucking of the paci (yes, he still has one). Other times, like this morning, he's mister chatterbox.

"Mom?" he whipsers.
"Yes, baby?"
"I wake."
"Yes, you are."
"Mom?"
"Yes, love?"
"I love you more."
"I love you, too."
"I love you more, Mom. I need hugs and kisses." He then removes his paci, grabs my face, and gives me a kiss.

In that moment, I feel overwhelmed with love and I just want to hold him close to me forever. I want to always feel that feeling because there is no other feeling like it anywhere or in anything. It's true, unconditional, motherly love. I smile and breath deep, taking in his smell. And I know in that moment, with my son in my arms and my husband laying beside him, that my life is truly awesome. All the stress and busyness is gone. And there is nothing in the world greater than when he says "I love you, mom" before I say a word.

Of course, it was less than ten minutes later that Ethan and I were at odds over his desire to have an open cup of milk in the living room and my desire to keep my furniture from smelling like rotten milk when he spills it, but hey, at least I can look forward to another one of those moments tomorrow morning.

Living in the land of "no"

2011-04-07T19:31:00.000-07:00

Conversations with Ethan:

Mom: "Here, love, mommy made you a chicken tostada."
Ethan: "No, I want pizza."
Mom: "We don't have pizza tonight, but this is like a pizza. A taco pizza."
Ethan (louder): "No! I don't want it. I want pizza."
Mom: "Well, I'm sorry. This is what we have."
Ethan: "I want milk."
Mom (gets up and gets Ethan some milk in his favorite cup)
Ethan (scowl on his face): "No. I don't want it. I no want milk."
Mom: "You just asked me for milk."
Ethan: "I no want it anymore."
Mom: "Fine. Don't drink it."

Later....
"Here, Ethan, take your medicine" (he's teething REALLY BAD)
"No, I not want medicine, Mom."
"It will make you feel better."
"No, I not want to feel better!"

Later....
"Would you like some orajel?"
"Yeah, I want orgel."
(I put some on the tip of my finger) "Here you go, love."
"No, I no want orgel." (scowling)
"Fine." (I wipe it off).
"Mom?"
"Yes?"
"I want orgel."
"Okay, but I'm only trying this one more time. Open up."
"No, I not open."
"You have to open your mouth so I can put it in there."
"No. I not." (I make him let me do it).
"Feel better?"
"Yes." (two seconds later) "No."

Anything and everything I say or suggest, he says no to. Maybe I should say, "You want to stay up longer?" What are the chances he'd say, "No. I go bed." Not likely. Tough phase....this no phase.

My First Real Kiss

2011-04-06T11:36:00.000-07:00

Have I told this story before? I can't remember, so I'll tell it now.

I was an awkward girl. Not in the sense that I looked any more awkward than other girls my age, but in the sense that I acted awkward. I had been shaped by a lifetime of back and forth shuffling, pain, distrust, and instability. These factors, I believe, led to a lack of self confidence, creating an awkwardly shy girl that held little trust for anyone. So you can imagine how difficult talking to boys might be for a girl like this. They'd say something funny, and I'd say nothing. They'd compliment me, and I'd put my head down (I still don't take compliments well). They'd show interest, and I'd turn the other way.

Ever the writer, I finally did find a way to communicate with these boys. Several of us girls started writing "love" letters to the boys we had crushes on. I put quotation marks around "love" because we weren't talking about love in the feeling sense. We were talking about love in the physical sense. We were 13. We had no business writing some of the things we wrote. And we have a friend to thank for the introduction of such torrid scenes. She brought her mom's romance novel to school and we must have poured over the sex scenes a hundred times. We were curious, I suppose. It's a little strange to think about how kids get introduced to such things....so innocently.

At any rate, I was not the only one writing these letters. I would never! But since there was a group of us, and the boys were writing us back, I felt okay about it and found that through writing, I was able to say things I never would be able to say (to this day) out loud to a boy. (Not everything in those letters was inappropriate).

One such boy was having a party (his brother as well) at their house for our two classes. Said boy put in his letter, "It's me and you, babe. Me and you." I felt so special! Of course, my mother found the letter and called the mom and told her she heard it was going to be a "virgin-poppin'" party, which mortified me beyond belief, but I digress.

I still got to go to the party, but the walk around the lake under the moonlight was cancelled. The parents kept a pretty close eye on all of us. We were 13. It's not like we were really going to do anything. Hell, I doubt we even knew what half the stuff we read meant. Said boy and I did manage to sneak off behind a tree for a small space of time. And in that space of time, we kissed. I remember looking up at the stars. Not a cloud in the sky. I remember staring at the moon through the leaves above me as I tried to keep up with the intimacy of the kiss as he deepened it further. My hands were on his shoulders; his were around my waste. I remember how excited I was and how lucky I felt. It was a first kiss worth remembering. A real kiss. No little peck. It was what every girl dreamed a first kiss could be. It was magic.

And then his mom yelled. He pulled back, took my hand, and gently said, "C'mon, let's go back." I silently followed with a smile.

My step-dad, drunk I might add, came to pick me up about an hour later. I said my goodbyes in public (no kissing) and left with the stupid drunk ass that shouldn't have been behind the wheel. But I paid no attention to the swerving and sliding on those back country roads. Instead, I just kept moving my tongue around the inside of my mouth, tasting the remnants of that first kiss and luxuriating in the warmth I felt from the experience. I smiled all the way home as my step-dad and his friend belted out ZZ Top or AC/DC. I was too entranced to focus on the idiocy occurring in the front seat.

And while Monday morning brought forth the harsh reality that said boy was merely using me with the hopes that I would fulfill the rubbish I had written, I will forever cherish that kiss as my first real kiss.

P.S. We stopped writing letters after the party and those boys began referring to our group (there were about 7 of us) as teasers. We were good girls, really, just stupid and in over our heads. Not a one of us followed through with anything we wrote.

When Illness Strikes

2011-04-05T07:14:00.000-07:00

I left work a mere two hours after I got here yesterday to pick up my sick son. He was running a fever and sleeping on the couch. For Ethan to sleep at all is a real feat, so I knew it was serious.

Poor baby spiked to about 102. He got sick one time. He slept for 5 hours straight. He refused to eat. By evening, he was feeling a little better. Not eating, but drinking at least. We finally tucked him in around 9:30 (he slept 5 hours + yesterday). He woke up at 6:30 this morning, seeming to feel just fine. My poor bug.

I'm sort of a germaphobe. That doesn't mean I clean everything obsessively. I don't. It means I avoid sick people like the plague. A mere cold could make me stand 20 feet away from you. I don't want your germs. When Clint's sick, I go nowhere near him and I sleep in a different room. I don't take medicine, so I do my best to avoid any illnesses that might require such a thing.

So when Ethan is sick, I have an inner struggle I'm afraid to admit. On one hand, I want to love and cuddle and hold him tight and close. On the other, I want to put him to bed and stay far, far away. Of course, my "motherly" side wins out, and I'm snuggled up on the couch, breathing in his toxic sick fumes that are sure to get me sick. He wants to hold my hand, and I let him, even though he just had that hand in his mouth. He wants hugs and kisses. I hug him, but I turn my cheek and the last minute for the kiss. Is that so bad? I mean, I'm already tempting fate, why taunt it?

First things first, I Lysol my house, his room, the bathrooms, and anything else he's touched like a madwoman. I hate the smell of Lysol and rarely use it. Just when the house is sick. I pull out the alcohol rub and grab a clean towel to put by the sink. I grab the lotion. Because when E is sick, I go on defense mode. Yes, I hug and hold and love my poor, sweet baby, but I also spray the house, scrub my hands incessantly, use a fresh "just for me" towel to dry my hands, and use alcohol rub every time he touches my hands. And I take particular care not to rub my face, my eyes, or my lips with my hands.

I'm a freak, I know.

60s? Really? I'll believe it when I feel it.

2011-04-01T08:55:00.000-07:00

Alright...let's start with a small order of business. I've been a little whiny lately; I'm blaming it on shifting weather (and the actual issues, too). I try really hard not to let things get me down, especially things from my past, but sometimes they get to me. Good thing is, I can rant and move on. I'm in a good place today and had a great week at the Capitol. It was awesome.

With that last part said, I'll say that I was happy to get home to my bug. I miss him lots when I'm gone.

So the weather is supposed to be nice this weekend. Here's to hoping I can get back out there to run.....I mean seriously, I start C25k and it drops to the flippin' 30s and 40s? What's that about? I am RUNNING this weekend. It better be nice out.

So obviously I haven't done all that great on my training for Warrior Dash. I need to get with the program. I'm too competitive to go down last! And I'm running against the hubs and some friends. Ouch! I know the hubs will beat me unless I trip him as soon as they let us start. He's probably still beat me, but at least then I could say I was in front of him for about 30 seconds. Not all of us have an accessible gym we can use 5 days a week. So not fair.

Alright. I don't have much unless you want to be bored out of your mind with talk of Jeff City and the Capitol. I'll save you from it.

Oh, I suppose I could share a little something with you....I got glasses. I'm old. One eye sees different than the other. (Really, it's so minor that most people wouldn't even notice the difference). I have better pics than this (I think my chin looks chunky here, but it takes about an hour to send the thing to my email from my phone). Would you believe only one person has said anything to me about them at work? I take that to mean they're thinking, "OMG. She has glasses! OMG. She looks so dorky!"

Randomly Monday

2011-03-28T08:46:00.000-07:00

Let's start this show with an Ethanism:
"Ethan, please get in the bathtub."
"No, I not."
"Either you get in or I will put you in, but you're taking a bath."
Ethan climbs in reluctantly and gets down on his knees. "I don't want take bath. This ridiculous!"

The kid is a mess. Of course, we both laughed, which made him laughed and also ensured we'll be hearing that phrase again. But how could we not. I need to start carrying a notebook around with me, so I can write all this stuff down. He says so many things that are just WAY TOO CUTE that I miss documenting.

I go back to Jeff City tomorrow. It's our week at the capitol and rally day. I'm enjoying it, but I won't be sad to see this legislative session come to an end in May.

Just finished my midterm. It wasn't so bad. Now I just have to get that 8-page paper finished, and I'll be set. Of course, I'm forgetting the 20-minute presentation. What was I thinking?

Woke up to 1/2 inch of snow this morning. Wish winter would get the hint that it's time for him to go home already. I wanted to where a skirt instead of a regular old pant suit this week, but no, I'd freeze my butt off.

Why do I think winter is a man and spring is a woman? Probably because winter just pisses me off the whole time it's around. I mean, sure, the first snow is pretty and I forget what a pain in the ass he can be for that moment, but then I have to drive in it. Spring, well, spring is a lot like a woman. She's pretty and fruitful and smells so nice. She's a breath of fresh air. But she's also temperamental and vengeful. Get on her bad side and she'll throw you a tornado or maybe the worst flood you've seen in 100 years.

Alright. I'll be out of commission again for a few days. I hope everyone has a wonderful week!

March Madness leads to Fat A$$-indness

2011-03-25T06:42:00.000-07:00

I'm not talking basketball here; although before I started dating my husband, I was a March Madness devotee. I was a college ball devotee. But alas, the husband hates basketball....something about wrestlers always hate basketball or some such nonsense. So I chose him over basketball.

Oh yeah....this isn't about basketball. The March Madness I refer to is the weather. So it was in the 70s earlier this week. Yesterday it was sunny, but cool at 50 degrees. Today it's currently 33 degrees with rain. Dreary day not suited to running outdoors. Very annoying because I started the C25K this week and have only run twice. By all rights, I should've ran yesterday, but I couldn't find the time. I ran Sunday and Tuesday and did Pilates Monday and Wednesday. I should feel good about that, but I want to get in my third run!

The weather here is not uncommon. I often refer to March as a tease. She wants you to come out and play with her, so she gives you a few sunny, warm days and as soon as you get close to her, she says, "Hold up! I was just playing. I don't really like you that much!" Then she gives you the cold shoulder and spits at you. WTH! And it's always on the weekends. She's a fickle month. Everyone complains and moans, but to no avail.

Everyone seems to forget that the last freeze around here occurs in April.

So there it is. Here I bought a new pair of running shoes and fickle lady has decided to put me in my place. I am NOT running in this and I have no access to a treadmill. I am not defeated, however. I will run again.

(Note: I'm feeling much better than I was yesterday about changing my outlook on life and cherishing the things that life is giving me in the now)

The difficulty of change

2011-03-24T14:00:00.000-07:00

Warning: Long post ahead.

I've had a lot going on lately. More than I've shared here. And my ability to navigate through everything isn't always top-notch. It's got me thinking that I need to make some serious changes in my life. I want to be a happier person.

I recently read an article about parents who hate parenting. What was so scary is that I can relate to some of the things it said. Studies show that parents have no more satisfaction than non-parents. In fact we have more stress. Why wouldn't we? Things are financially tighter. Most families require both parents to work. The burdens are huge and no one ever gets a break. And since we're waiting until we're older, we feel and know what we're sacrificing. I am in no way saying that I would change a thing. And that's the great thing about being a parent. No matter how hard it gets or how frustrated I get or how tired I am after a few nights of Ethan's bad sleep habits, if I could go back and have another chance to decide, I'd make the same decision over and over and over. Why? Because Ethan is awesome. And getting to be his mom is awesome. And the things he brings into my life are awesome.

But I'm a realist and this parenting thing is hard. It just is. And to be honest, balancing it and work and school is harder. We keep tossing around the second kid thing, and I'm afraid to have another. I'm afraid it will affect my career. I'm afraid it will affect my school. I'm afraid it will affect the family dynamic we have going on now. The truth is that it will affect all of these things. But here's the thing. I don't think I should've waited to have kids. I never think I shouldn't have had kids. I think I waited too long to get my career going. Or waited too long to have kids. Or somehow I having a toddler at home at the same time my career was finally taking off shouldn't have been at the same time. But alas, it is.

I started with that article, but I have to say that I do not hate parenting. There are things I don't like about it, mainly discipline issues, but the amount of things I love about it outweigh those things. It's not an easy job, but it's one worth having. It's one I am glad I get the opportunity to have. I just have to figure out a way to better embrace the things I love about it so that they can offset the hard stuff.

But this post isn't all about that. I've been sorting through some rough childhood stuff for the past year now. I've been involved in some group counseling that just ended today. Going over these things and facing these issues do not make me happy. They aren't easy, and they often leave me in tears. I know that in order to heal, I have to open the box, take the things out, and sort through them, but that doesn't mean it's easy. I know that by doing so, I will be able to put them back in the box in a nicer neater way then they currently reside there.

No one said this was gonna be easy, and I didn't go in thinking it would be. But I'm tired of being sad over these things. I'm tired of being angry about them. If I didn't see the progress, I'd quit. Luckily, I do see it, and it helps me continue on a journey I know will help me in the future.

I received a second letter from my brother last night. The one in prison. We've been having a pretty frank conversation through letters and he said some things that struck pretty close to home. Some truths that were painful to hear and brought tears to my eyes. I often feel like I failed my siblings. I have trouble telling myself that I had to do what was right for me and leaving home was the right thing for me. I have trouble because I left them. I know they were not my responsibility, but in my eyes, they were. Essentially, I abandoned them and that hurts. It's something I have to get over. It's something I have to learn to live with, but it hurts me to know I caused them so much hurt.

I want to be the person that can set these things aside and focus on what I have right in front of me. I have a loving husband and a loving child. I have a great job that I love. I don't have a lot of money, but I don't struggle to eat. I just bought a new pair of running shoes because I can. I have a lot to be happy for. Sometimes, it's just so easy to get bogged down in the hurt and pain from the past, especially when you're working so hard to heal that pain.

Change is hard. But I am going to do my best to change the way I view things. Yes, I have hard stuff to focus on, but I need to learn how to set that hard stuff away when I should not be working on it so that I may focus on the positives. I will be trying to do this. I'm sure you'll hear more.

Changes aren't easy....

2011-03-23T08:09:00.000-07:00

So a lot has been going on lately. I feel like we got back from our vacation and the world just started spinning out of control. I didn't do a Random Tuesday yesterday, and I had no idea that it was the last opportunity...that's how out of the loop I am. I'm behind in everything and fear I will be for a while. As I struggle to get caught up, life continues on. Here are a few things keeping my mind absorbed as of late:

Work. I'm so busy I can hardly see straight. I want to do so much, but I have so little time. And while I love, love, love going to the Capitol, it's hard to balance that with my regular job duties. I need to focus on some time management skills.
School. I've been ahead all semester, but then I went on vacation and now I feel I may never get caught up again.
Ethan. We're in the midst of a battle zone with my child. On one hand, he's the sweetest most polite little guy in the world and I could give him thousands of kisses. My heart swells at the sight of him. Five minutes later, he the screaming, ranting, throwing everything in site child that I always feared I'd have. Consistency has been hard to come by and I'm searching for ways to get there. This weekend, Ethan and I are creating a "Earn" chart. I'll be posting about it.
Clint. Stress is not good on any marriage. Not bad stress. And we have bad stress. We seldom agree on things and money is super tight after vacation. Arguments are in full swing and I don't have the time or energy to really ponder what's going on. Don't get me wrong, everything will be fine. We're not on the verge of disaster here, but things gotta change. We just need to get back into our groove. It'll happen.
Counseling. Man, oh, man. Twice a week...that's what I'm currently doing and it's killing me. Luckily this will be the last week for group session. Then we're down to once a week again. But it's hard and it makes me look at/remember things I don't want to and it hurts. But it makes me a stronger person and I can see the affects it's already had on how I view the world and how I react to certain situations. That makes it worth it.

So there are a few things. I'm busy, but I'm always busy. I'm struggling a bit with life right now, but for all these things, there are good things, too:

I have more control. Over my life. Over my choices. Over my self.
I have started running/working out. It's going well. I just started, but I'm liking it.
The weather is finally getting nicer. If you leave out the fact that it's only going to be in the 50s tomorrow. At least things are turning green. Brown just gets so old after a while.
I love my job. It's busy and stressful, but I love it.
I love my family. I have a great family. An amazing family. They make everyday special and I wouldn't want to live one day without them.

I am trying really hard to catch up on everyone's blogs, but it's been tough. And I'll be gone next Tues, Wed, and Thurs, so I may just stay behind forever. I have so many things I want to post about. For now, I'm just writing them down.

The Road We're On

2011-03-21T10:47:00.000-07:00

First of all, I want to apologize for my lack of comments. Unfortunately, things have been and will continue to be excessively busy over the next couple of weeks. It's all I can do just to write a post. But it will resume to normal and I will do my best to catch up with everyone!

So anyone who has/had a toddler understands that trying to reason with one can be sorta like reasoning with the likes of come foreign dignitary that's set in his ways. The language is difficult to understand and the negotiating skills are lacking substantially. The threat of war is ever present and to proceed, one must do so with eyes wide open and a high level of caution. And still, there is no guarantee that you will come out on top once it's all said and done.

And so here we are. My husband and I go through this battle daily. It's the battle of wills and Ethan is a strong component. His resolve is unmoving. His screams are ear shattering. His manipulative skills are unprecedented. Our goal is to keep our eyes open and know when he NEEDS and when he WANTS. Because those two things are quite different. It's easy to talk to talk, but not so much when it comes time to walk it. And that's the road we're on.

Last week Ethan cried relentlessly that he wanted "to play in car." He's become quite adept at giving you this look like he might keel over if you don't submit to his wishes. Having fallen under his spell once before on this issue, I knew the havoc he could wreak inside my car should I give in again. I gave a firm "No, you may not play in the car. It could be dangerous and I do not wanting you tearing everything a part." The theatrics were in full swing after that, and after much pleading and telling, Daddy finally gave in. "He can play in my car. I'll watch him." I explained the fine line he was walking and the precedent he'd set should he cave. He responded with a very reasonable, "But we barely get to see him during the week and I don't want to spend it fighting."

And so this is how good parents find themselves with screaming, tantrum-throwing preschoolers and kindergartners. Who wants to spend the short amount of time after work and between bed fighting with their child? I do not and my husband certainly does not. Now I'm not going to lie here. I have a pretty smart kid. He knows this. And he is quickly learning how to use it to his advantage. The question becomes how do I stop it.

I can see it. We're heading down that road. We're giving when we shouldn't give. And we're doing it out of love. However, I think it might be time we start looking for the next road named Consistency. Otherwise, the screaming rants of a toddler, which can be blamed on age, will soon become the fits of a preschooler and the spoiled-rotten behavior of a teenager. The road we're on is a tricky one. It's time to find the exit.

Happy birthday

2011-03-17T19:16:00.000-07:00

To me! Tomorrow is my birthday (the 18th). I will not be on the computer. I'm going to do lots of fun girl stuff in the morning. A little Starbucks, a little haircutting, a little shoe shopping (running shoes), and a little clothes shopping.

After I'm finished, I'm picking up Ethan and going to the park. Then we'll pick up Dad and go to my favorite place to eat....a little Mexican place. Yum. And yes, I will be having a margarita! The husband will have to drive home.

See (read) you all next week. 32, here I come!

Part 2 of Vacation....but first.

2011-03-17T09:31:00.000-07:00

Alright, so I received this wonderful little package in the mail on Monday from Brandy over at You Don't Know for a giveaway I won. I should've posted pictures Tuesday morning, but I had to go to Jeff City again and just got back last night. You'll have to excuse the quality; I took them with my phone.

Look at this cute this note-taking package. Other than the fact that it has my favorite flowers on it, it closes up to contain all the little paper notes, so you don't have to worry about losing them. What a wonderful idea!

Thanks, Brandy!

And now that business is out of the way. Let's talk about Part 2 of our vacation. The island was wonderful. Absolutely gorgeous, and I wouldn't trade that part of the vacation in for anything. However, there's something about not showering for 3 days and sleeping in the kind of humidity that coats everything that makes a person really appreciate the finer things in life. Like a shower or air conditioning or food other than bagelwiches and brats. And that's where Part 2 comes in.

We spent the second leg of our journey at place called the Sun & Moon Inn in Matlacha, Florida. While there isn't a "beach," there is water. It's the backwaters of Florida that host some great fishing. The shallow flats can be walked for 10 miles out during low tide, and it's rather interesting to watch the ebb and flow of the tides.

This community got its start as a fishing community that died off around the time they banned fish netting in the area. They were desecrating the fish. The town began to flourish with the influx of artists from all over the country and has become quite the little town. The seafood (fresh and changing daily) is amazing. I had some of the BEST crabcakes I've ever had there. Apparently, because of the fish kill last year (caused by a cold snap), there are tons of crabs. And so here are some pics.... These won't be in order, like I wanted, but I don't have a lot of time to mess with it.

View from our Inn

Front view from our Inn

Beautiful Sunset

Snook. I had a huge one on the first night that my husband helped me lose. I was pretty upset. It deserves a post of its own.

Clint going solo. The first day I went out, I about died. It was so windy that at one point, I looked over and realized that even though I was paddling as hard as I could, I wasn't moving an inch. I felt like the birds you see flapping like crazy into the wind and staying stationary.

Manatees right off the dock of our Inn

More Manatees

The Sun and Moon

The sign gives good advice!

We ate here twice. It was EXCELLENT!

Everything in Matlacha is splashed with color. Very artsy place.

One of the art galleries.

This is actually in an alley. A local artist took our picture.

We went to Bert's twice, too.

The last night of our vacation, we got there around 5 and stayed till midnight. We talked with several locals. It was a great way to spend our last evening.

Me.

Bert's

The Sun and Moon.

View from Sun and Moon. That's an oyster bar out there....nothing but oyster shells.

And there you have it. Vacation 2011. It was refreshing, warm, and all together awesome. The trip home brought disaster when our kayak flew off the top of our car. We were doing 70 at night in the rain. Luckily no one was hurt. The culprit? One of the straps just snapped in two. It was pretty scary. But what's a vacation without a little disaster?

A Winter Weather Advisory....and Part one of the vacay

2011-03-14T09:59:00.000-07:00

makes me wish I was back in Florida. That's right. Winter. Weather. Advisory. Did I mention it's the middle of March? WTH!

Alright, so I had this great idea to write these great vacation posts, but as usual, time has gotten away from me and I just.can't.do.it. So here's the recap.

We stayed on a primitive island for 3 nights. It was the only time that we got to see the Gulf side of the Atlantic. I love the Ocean. I mean, I really love the Ocean. Granted I was a little freaked about the prospect of swimming with sharks, I am happy just smelling the salt in the air and feeling the sand between my toes. One of the first things I did when we got to the beach was dip my hands in the water and bring that salty goodness to my lips. No, I don't want to drink saltwater, but I do love the taste of it all the same.

NOTE: Yes, I was swimming with sharks. There was one caught 30 minutes after I got out of the water just off the coast. They. Are. There. Don't doubt it.

And so we slept in a primitive cabin (pictures below) and walked the island and kayaked and fished and played. It was a truly wonderful, truly beautiful time. I LOVED it.

We kayaked around for a bit, and came upon a cove that looked promising in regard to fish. All we saw were manatees. But I'm not complaining. That alone was cool enough for me! On day 2, we hiked to the lone cemetery on the island, which I wanted to do, and then traversed the rest of the way over to the ranger station to get more ice and wood for our fire. I was wishing they sold beer there, though, because we drank all of ours by the 2nd night. It's not that we drank a lot; just bad planning. On day 3, we packed up our gear and caught the tram to the other side of the island (1 mile away). Then we went out again in the kayaks and caught a few Sea Trout. That was pretty cool. All in all, I'd say the island was a success. It's not for the faint of heart, but if 20-something spring breakers could do it, anyone could, I think.

These guys were fighting over a fish. Vicious creatures, apparently.

Way in the distance, you can see a couple people standing there. There were lots of times that we had the entire beach to ourselves.

The sunsets were beautiful. I took TONS of pictures of those.

Clint fishing into the sunset.

Shark caught just off the coast. We actually rode over with these guys on the ferry. They were pretty cool.

Shells were EVERYWHERE! I got tons. This island is supposed to have some of the best shelling. This stretch of beach required about a mile walk to get to, so we had no company.

Sea Urchins. They were everywhere. Weird little creatures.

I'm happier than I look...just thinking.

They put these huge Conk shells around all of the grave sites. This one was small. I assume a child. :(

One of the few with a headstone.

Taking a break during the walk to the ranger station (which only sells ice and wood and candy bars)

Home sweet home. For three days. There was a bathroom with flushing toilets nearby.

Our accommodations. Just vinyl beds. We woke up wet from humidity every morning. So worth it.

Storytime......True Story

First night there, Clint and I grabbed a beer and headed to the beach. There's nothing like sitting on a beach in the dark listening to the waves break as you sip on an ice-cold beer. Bliss. So we heard what I call "woo" girls (stole the term from How I Met Your Mother) way down the beach (did I mention the 20-something spring breakers?). The sound became more pronounced. The woo-ing increased in decibels. We looked in there direction, but saw black. As the sounds came closer, I waited for them to appear out of the night. And appear they did. As they "wooed" by, I said, "And....they're naked." The last of the woo girls heard me and yelled, "Oh My God. Someone's on the beach!" They screamed, turned, and wooed themselves all the way back to where they came from! I couldn't make that up.

Recollections of the South

2011-03-10T14:08:00.000-08:00

I'm from the South. I know, and have heard, that many people do not believe Arkansas is the South. And I normally don't argue with those people, especially if they're from Alabama, Mississippi or Georgia. But I think now, after our vacation, I will argue.

We drove to Florida. Many people thought we were crazy. Why drive when you can fly? First the cost to take everything we needed for the island on a plane makes driving a more affordable option, even with the rise in gas prices. Second, when you drive, you see. You're not looking out on the patchwork quilt that makes up the United States. You're driving through the quilt. You're integrated into it, and it becomes a part of you because you keep those visions and memories with you. The places you've been. I can say I've been to Eufaula, AL, because I drove through it and I saw it's buildings and its people and its culture. I cannot say I've been to Prescott, AZ, just because I flew over it. I didn't see it's character or its veins.

But we not only drove to Florida. We also took the "scenic" route that I was later informed is referred to as "The Black Belt." As you all know, I research everything. And so I researched it as well. And since I don't let my students use wikipedia, here's a non-wiki link about The Black Belt South.

The reason this came up is because I was talking about how much our drive through the South reminded me of how poverty stricken the South is. Town after town offered brittle buildings and dilapidated parks. Cars were beaten and barely running. People were struggling. The looks on their faces made that evident. It reminded me of home. And I never even knew "The Black Belt" existed. My hometown is not part of that line. If you do any research on this subject, you'll see that this line is probably our poorest area. This is where the tire meets the road, and that tires has wires showing. It's disheartening at moments as you look around. But then you see a group of people talking, and they're laughing and they're doing just fine. I'm not saying poverty is acceptable and we should turn the other way. What I am doing is giving the South a compliment.

The South has pride. They have a sense of worth that I have yet to encounter elsewhere. And they're loyal. Loyal to their families and loyal to their way of life. Sometimes I wonder if because they just don't know any better. And maybe that's part of it. As someone who comes from a very poor town, I can see that. You just live with what you got and keep on going.

I don't even know what I'm trying to say here. I don't really have the words to describe what I'm trying to say. I know it in my head, but it's not coming out right. Even for writers words sometimes fail us.

All in all, I wouldn't have changed our route in the least, and it was so very good for me to drive through those areas because it makes me realize that I could've been stuck in my small town just getting by. And it makes me thankful I'm not. Yet at the same time, I feel a sense of belonging there. A sense of amazement in the fortitude it takes to survive that life and still carry a smile. And I'm glad I don't have to do it.

Incidentally, I include Arkansas as part of the South because as we were driving through the South, I looked it up. And I determined that since Arkansas was once part of the Confederate States of America that it indeed has the right to be included in the small band of states.

Yes, I'm still alive....

2011-03-09T06:27:00.000-08:00

I survived my vacation. And I'm surviving the drastic temperature difference, which isn't easy considering it's about 40 degrees colder here than it was in Florida. I have pictures. I took about 700 pictures. No, I'm not exaggerating. I'm playing catch up at work and at home. My house is a wreck. My office is a wreck. My school work isn't done. Ethan's attitude is not in check. But I feel refreshed and ready to tackle it all. That's the great thing about vacations.

And Ethan did just fine without Mommy around; however, I can definitely tell he's a little less than happy with me for being gone so long. I have the following posts coming, so bear with me.....

The one that got away
Kayak, anyone?
Homecoming

And probably a few more. We saw sharks, stingrays, sea turtles, manatees, dolphins and more (including a few unclothed spring breakers). We caught ladyfish, sea trout, mackeral, and snook. It was quite an experience. Here's one just for the heck of it. Excuse the quality. This happens every time I use Picasa, but I have WAY too many pictures not to use it to share my photos!

Cheer Up Blog Swap

2011-02-25T10:03:00.000-08:00

Alright, people, I won't be around for a while...over a week, in fact. I'm not taking a computer with me, and for 3 glorious days, I won't have my cell phone either. But don't worry, I'll have plenty to share when I come back.

In the mean time, I'm going to bow out of Fat Ass Friday today ( I DID NOT make my 5 lb goal) to share all the wonderful stuff Shannon over at Welcome to the Nut House sent me in the Cheer Up Blog Swap hosted by Brandy and Sheila.

First of all, her card was great! I should've taken a picture. And I love all the things she sent. You'll have to excuse the low-quality of the images.

I wish I would've taken pictures of everything wrapped in the pretty paper, but my camera was packed away (I had to dig it out to take these), and I couldn't wait to see what was waiting for me.

I love stuff that smells good. I got my sister some Japanese Cherry Blossom lotion for Christmas, and I really wanted to steal it from her, so I'm happy I have my own now.

Who doesn't like smell-good candles? I LOVE them!

Um...yeah...and who doesn't like chocolate. Double fudge decadent, even. Yum. I'll be making these when I return from vacation.

I have never seen these cards, but I gotta tell you, they had me rolling.

I'm especially fond of this one because it hits so close to home. Ethan loves hiding and there are times when I consider making him wait in his hiding spot while I take a 10-minute breather. He can't last that long, though. Maybe someday!

So there you have it. Wonderful things from a wonderful person. While Florida is bound to cheer me up (unless I get attacked by a pesky Bull Shark), these things definitely cheered up this warm-weather soul and will help get me through the rest of this dismal winter! Thank you, Shannon!

Educational Reform...Does it matter?

2011-02-24T13:30:00.000-08:00

Our ranking as a world leader in education is falling drastically. Of 34 nations examined, we rank 18th. We rank 14th in reading, 17th in science and 25th in math. And while many parents don't feel there are a lot of jobs out their in math and science, that won't always be the case. Why does it matter?

Other countries, such as Finland, South Korea, and China, are graduating more students, and these students are intellectually smarter than our graduates. As companies become more global, they can look to these top-performing countries for smart workers that outperform those found in the states and pay less for the work. That's a problem. Our technology has changed the landscape of how our companies work. We no longer need everyone in a central location. Someone from Finland could easily manage a group in the United States. So it matters that we're continuing to slip through the ranks.

23% of ninth graders will go on to receive a college degree (not accounting for those held back or that drop out and later receive their GED). That's a small number. And no, I do not think everyone needs to receive a 4-year degree, but it is becoming more and more evident that some form of post-secondary training is necessary, whether it be a certificate in Welding or an Associate's degree. It is said that the chances of our children doing better than we are doing is slim to none. Gone are the days when children become greater than their parents. How sad is that?

But how can reform plausibly happen? Obviously our government is not accomplishing it, and we really shouldn't want it to. School boards are supposed to be the governing body for a school, but the second you start allowing the federal government to step in, you've lost your autonomy because now you have to answer to them. Take No Child Left Behind. How much paperwork has that started. And have you ever heard of the report A Nation At Risk, which identified the troubled state of our education system, written in the 80s during the Reagan era? Our reaction to that study at the local level went something like, "We really need to do something." "Yeah, something needs to be done, but my school is doing it right." When in reality their school wasn't doing it right. The government's reaction was testing. Let's test our students to see how they're doing. That's been REAL effective. It's not. Most educators know it's not, but once something up there at the big house gets enacted, it's hard to get them to toss it out.

Some propose that what we need to do is create a national set of standards, which has been done by several of the leading education countries. However, in order for that to work and truly be modeled after those having success with it, schools would have to have complete autonomy in determining how to achieve those standards. That's not the current case and changing that would not be easy.

Another thing these countries do is teach a content-rich curriculum. Basically, their kids are taught everything. They are given a broad range of knowledge, whereas the United States curriculum is a basic skills curriculum focused on reading, computation, and written communication. As an English teacher, I can tell you they aren't learning much about written communication. What the content-rich curriculum does is provide students with a way to synthesize those basic skills. Instead of memorizing them, they are able to relate it to other knowledge they've gained and find a context for the content.

Change will not happen from the top down. It just won't. It has to happen at the local level. And it is happening. Take Helena, Arkansas, which is has many, many lower-socioeconomic citizens. Those citizens have DECIDED they want better for their children and have DECIDED to get involved. They've DECIDED to commit to education because they know education is the key for their children. They decided to become a KIPP Delta school.

There is a small movement happening across the nation toward reform, but more people need to understand what's going on. More people need to realize the implications of doing nothing. More people need to realize that if they make their voices heard enough times with enough people on their side, then the school board will have to act. Educational reform will not happen at the top. We have to tackle the issue on our own. We have to make our childrens' and our neighbor's childrens' education a priority. It will affect us all if we don't.

*Statistics and information obtained from the Missouri Governor's Summit of Higher Education, Grassroots School Reform by Dr. Kent, Farnsworth, and other educational sites.

Skipping Random Thoughts to Negotiate

2011-02-22T07:22:00.000-08:00

We all learn things from our children. My first lesson, as I've stated before, was that flexibility is a must. That lesson was learned on the first night we brought Ethan home. My second lesson was patience. I can't say I'm there yet, but I have come a long way. I am not a patient person, but as a breastfeeding mom, I had to learn a little about it. After all, I couldn't make him eat any faster in those early days when it took 45 minutes to feed him and another 15 or 20 minutes to get 1.5 ounces of formula into his jaundiced little body. These two things have stayed with me as he's grown; although the circumstances have changed.

Ethan is almost 2.5 years old. I can hardly believe it. The way he has changed over his short life is beyond amazing. And as we navigate through what is aptly named the "Terrible Twos," I find myself learning more and more lessons from my little beacon of light. Lately, I have been given strong lessons in the power of negotiation. I want him to do one thing and he thinks we should do another. For instance, he loves Nature's Own Granola Bars. So let's say he says, "Mommy, I want a bar." I need him to get dressed so we can leave. I say, "You may have a bar as soon as we get dressed."

And then there are the choices. I always give him two choices and let him decide. For instance, I brush his teeth at night while he's in the bath. Sometimes he'll say, "No, not yet." I reply with, "Either you can let me brush your teeth while you're in the bath or I can take you out of the bath and have dad hold you down so that I can brush your teeth." He always goes for option one. OR let's say he asks for a candy cane (yes, we still have some) and I give him SOME of his candy cane. He throws a fit because I won't give him the entire thing. I take his candy cane and say, "You can either have the piece I gave you or none at all. Your choice." This usually gets a big fat "NO." I put the candy cane away and say, "Okay, then I guess you don't want it." He has to come to me and ask for the piece of candy cane. And then all is well.

Dealing with a two year old requires patience, flexibility, compromise, and some mad negotiating skills. You can't learn these things quite as in-depth as you can while parenting these little guys. I find myself using these skills in other aspects of my life, especially at work. Maybe I should create a training program....

A Sleep Review

2011-02-21T15:55:00.000-08:00

So I know that many of you have heard of CSNstores. I mean, with over 200 websites, you can find everything from an Eames lounge chair to Sleep Enhancing Clocks!

And who couldn't use a sleep-enhancing clock? Sleep has been quite the issue around here lately. I spoke not too long ago about nap times. Ethan tried his best to avoid them. Even with bags under his eyes, we couldn't convince him that even a short nap was worth while. And yet, he couldn't make it to bedtime, the tell-tell sign that Ethan was not ready to forego the naps.

Eventually, we stumbled upon a remedy by pure accident. On our way home from town during what should've been Ethan's nap time, he fell asleep about 10 minutes before we arrived home, giving him ample time to fall into that deep sleep. I gently removed him from his carseat and carried him to his bed. He did wake up, but he was so tired that his little red eyes closed the second his head hit the mattress. And so we've started the aggravating reality of driving Ethan around for about 15 minutes at the precise moment when he will fall asleep easily. It's not ideal, but it works.

So nap is solved....for the most part. However, our little intruder has been making near-nightly appearances in our room. He refuses to go to sleep with his door closed, asking us to leave the door open "just a cwack, please." Problem is he can get up in the night and I don't hear him until he's climbed into bed. He's also started waking way too early. I mean at 4:30 or 5, which is simply unacceptable. It's sporadic, which tells me it's not the norm. I have to make him go back to his room. But how to tell a 2-year-old that's it's not time to be up and moving about the house?

Don't get me wrong; I'm not expecting Ethan to stay in his room until I'm ready to get up, but I don't think it's too much to ask him to stay in his room until 6 a.m. when his normal wake-up time is between 6:30 and 7.

Well, that's what took me to www.CSNstores.com. But will they have what I'm looking for? And will it work? I suppose we'll see!

Fat Ass Friday....Failure Style

2011-02-18T09:30:00.000-08:00

If you want to play along, click to button.

So I leave for my vacation one week from tomorrow. I was hoping to lose about 5 lbs before that date. I've lost a couple, but not 5. Why? No willpower. Fresh cookies in the office? Sure I'll have one. Cheesecake from our culinary department? I must have a piece. Trips out of town? Must eat more than usual.

These things have all combined to create a situation not conducive to weight loss. Add to that all the snow days and canceled work out classes, and you have a situation that should actually increase weight. Or so I tell myself.

So anyway....I have one more week. We'll see what happens.

And the Winner Is.....

2011-02-17T08:33:00.000-08:00

Okay, so I'm back int he office after two days out of town on work. I am tired. And out of touch. Two days feels like a long time. What in the heck will I do when I'm gone for 10 days on vacation? I'm sure you all will pass through my mind occasionally!

Alright, so I'm wrapping up my first giveaway. Seven of you were kind enough to participate, and I appreciate that. The winner of the 10% off overstock promo code and free shipping on electronics code is Sheila! I used the random.org thing Brandy told me about to arrive at the winner. Thank you all again for participating.

Not sure if I'll do more giveaways.....kinda would like to and kinda wouldn't. We'll see how my time plays out.

Must we really be so slow?

2011-02-14T12:49:00.000-08:00

First of all...before I ruin the post with the tangent I'm about to unleash, I want to mention a little something about my weekend.

So I've been at this blogging thing for just about 2 years. In that time, I've read stories of blog friends meeting up. I have to admit that I was a little envious. So you can imagine how excited I was when I found out that Sheila was going to be in town. We met up for breakfast with her and her husband at Hemingways, which is in Bass Pro Shops. I was a little worried that Ethan wouldn't let us talk or that my husband wouldn't say a word. Of course, Clint got a long very well with Sheila's husband, Cory. They talked hunting. Ethan was great. And me?

Well, I don't know what my deal is, but it takes me a while to be able to speak in coherent sentences when I first meet someone. I suppose that's why there are a couple of my coworkers that didn't even know I worked here until 3 months after I started. Anyway, we had some good conversations and I do wish we would've had longer to hang out, but I guess that means I'll have to go visit sometime this spring. Anyway....it was great to meet someone I've been communicating with for well over a year now.

I do wish my husband would've chosen a better spot to stand in and take the picture. Can you see the bear's nose on the right? Yeah, if he would've moved to the left, maybe we could've missed the trash can and got the bear. Of course, if I was smart, I would've remembered the giant grizzly one floor up that's meant to taking pics in front of. Again. I am very awkward upon first meetings....it's one of the reasons I'm a writer. And here's a pic of us:

It was a good time, and I'm excited to go down there.

Alright. On to the rant of the day. So I'm walking to my workout class, and right in the middle of the hallway are two guys. You can't go right and you can't go left to get around them. They're walking about 1 miles per 5 hours, I swear. Slow walkers infuriate me. I figure I'm only 5'3. If you're slowing me up, then you're walking way too slow. I know I walk faster than most people, but if you're close to 6' like these two were, I cannot begin to understand how it's effortless to walk so slow. And must we really block the entire hallway? Really?

Hint: When you see someone trying to move passed you, then Get. Out. Of. The. Way!

Happy Valentine's Day. I have some beautiful flowers on my desk courtesy of Clint. I feel loved.

Anyone like Overstock? {Giveaway}

2011-02-11T07:01:00.000-08:00

I must admit that I have gone to Overstock.com quite a few times to check out the merchandise. I could be looking for shoes, dresses, baby furniture, or even a CD. It seems they really do have everything.

I even have coworkers that have bought furniture, much like this chair, and were very happy with the delivery time and quality of the product.

I'm definitely wishing I would've looked here for my barstools. We have saddle barstools that can wear on a person's behind if they spend too much time sitting on them. These barstools, however, would add just the right cushion.

Remember beanbags? I had one when I was a kid and loved it. I imagine a day will come when I get one for Ethan....maybe. If so, I'm thinking this beanbag would be about the right size for him.

But you know what I really, really, really want? Something I've wanted for a long time now? A kitchen table. Yes, we have one, but it was made by Clint's uncle in shop class when he was in high school. It turns into a bench, which means that when you sit at the table, there's no where to put your feet because of the "bench" part. It's a very neat table, but annoys me to no end. I've wanted a new table for so long. Maybe something like this Over Farmhouse Table. Or maybe the Mission Solid Oak table. I'm really looking for something that expands. Soon. Very soon.

Alright. So here's the deal. I have a 10% promo code AND a free shipping code on electronics from Overstock.com. I have never really hosted a giveaway and I know that in terms of giveaways, this is small potatoes. But maybe you could enter anyway just to make me feel loved?

I did think about just giving the codes to everyone, but I kinda wanted to try my hand at the giveaway thing. So here's what I plan on doing. I'm going to number comments in the order they are received. On Thursday, February 17, I'll use a random generator to find out who the winner is. Okay. Go.

All the ideas and opinions expressed are my own. No monetary compensation was received for doing this post, however, I was provided with a discount code.

Giveaways....I guess we all get there sometime.

2011-02-10T14:37:00.000-08:00

So I had a company approach me about doing a giveaway. I've done one before, and it didn't work out very well. I can't even remember what it was all about. Anyway, I'm not really one to participate in giveaways because of the time involved; however, I think about it and I want to.

In terms of hosting them...well...seems like a lot of work, but I've been looking into it, and it might actually be fun to do giveaways, so I think I'm going to give it a try. Worse that can happen is that it falls flat on its face.

Will be posting tomorrow.

Shake your booty dance and a little hide n seek

2011-02-08T18:32:00.000-08:00

One of Ethan's favorite activities to to hide from Daddy and let him find us. We hide in his closet a lot. Or under a blanket. We hide in the same spot over and over and over again. Each time I think I'm done, he tells me otherwise, saying, "C'mon Mom...we have to hide. We better hide. Daddy get us!" The first video is Ethan's Shake your booty dance. The second is hide n seek in the closet.

Conversations with Ethan:

In the bath.....

Daddy is spraying water and a bit of it is going onto the side of the tub.
Ethan: "Keep it in tub, Dad!"
Daddy: "Oh, okay. I was wrong."
Ethan with furrowed brows: "What's wrong wit you, Dad!"

RTT Day

2011-02-08T08:14:00.000-08:00

Alright, so we're due for more snow. Some say an inch; some say six. It'd be nice if they'd get it together. There's a big difference between 1 and 6.

Yesterday I was feeling all sorts of random. Today, not so much. Shoulda wrote things down yesterday.

I got a full 7 hours of sleep last night. That never happens. Turns out that working out right before bed does wonders.

So I have a Junior League meeting over lunch today that was rescheduled from last week when the blizzard canceled it. Um. I also have a New Member meeting tonight at 7. And then next week a committee meeting at 5:15. Let's not forget that I have class on Wednesday night until 9:30. When am I supposed to see my family? I thought about quitting, but my new member year is almost over, and the requirements are not nearly as strenuous the next year. But I'm not going to the new member meeting tonight. That's just too much.

So I got my hands on this delightful Cocoa Roast Almonds.....um....did I say delightful? I meant magnificent. Yum.

I have sledding pictures I want to share....going to have to wait till I get them off my camera. I'd say you can expect to see them sometime in March. :)

Vacation is just over 2 weeks away. Woo-hoo. I can't freakin' wait to get out of this cold, snowy February misery and on to a warm, white beach!

I have a video of Ethan doing his "shake your booty" dance, but my stupid phone won't upload it to YouTube. Upsetting.

Alright...for those about to get snow, I'm right there with you and feel your pain. For those who aren't. I'm jealous.

The Walls Are Falling.

2011-02-07T08:11:00.000-08:00

I had a goal. Lose 5 pounds in one month. I have not made any progress toward that goal. To my credit, I have been eating much, much healthier overall with slips here and there. After all, how could I possible watch the Super Bowl without eating 4 pieces of pizza and drinking a beer?

On the workout front, well, that's not been so good. I had intended to work out at our gym. Unfortunately, we're renovating that whole area to add more classrooms because we're experiencing some serious growing pains. The gym won't open until August. AUGUST. But I didn't get too bent out of shape. After all, we have a Pilates class here that's taught over the lunch hour. Trouble is I was out of town for a couple sessions, then it snowed and school got canceled, and now we have major things going on here this week that has canceled the Pilates for lack of a room to hold it in.

This means that I am going to have to pop in P90X if I want to get any working out done. The problem with that is that I don't know if I can stomach any more of it. I am a person that gets bored easily. Ask my husband. I am so over Tony and his gang.

I'm going to give it a shot tonight because there is NO WAY I'm getting up at 4:30 to work out. I'm just going to choose the no Tony talk version and pop in my own CD. I see no other way that I'm going to get a workout in, and I HAVE only 2.5 weeks till vacation.

Character Sketch--fictional

2011-02-05T17:36:00.000-08:00

I s'pose I mighta been 9 years old last time I saw my momma. She wasn't ever much to be around no how, so it didn't really bother me none that she'd up and left me there in that one-room shack with Dee-dee. Dee-dee was a mean old lady, but that woman could make a meal outta nothing but cornmeal and potatoes. The kinda meal that stuck to yer ribs and gotcha through the winter. No matter how rough.

I s'pose it'd be alright to admit I cried when old Dee-dee died. I was 15. I came on in from working the fields to find her sprawled out on the kitchen floor. Taters boiling over. Water dripping next to her off the stove. I walked on over to the stove and turned it off before headin' out to get help. We didn't have no phone to call people, so I had to walk up to Johnny Ray's place 'bout a mile up the road. They came and got her that night. They asked me what my plans were and I told 'em I wasn't much for planning as I was for making it through the day. Old Dee-dee used to tell me, "It ain't done no one no good to think about what's ahead. Makin' it through today is all you gotta think about, child."

I think now she was just trying to keep my mind occupied with now instead of thinking of the past or what lies ahead. I sat there that night listening to the quiet. No bangin' pans. No yelling and cursin'. Just the heavy creaks and aches of that one-room shack. I couldn't help but think about the next day. How I was gonna eat. Dee-dee never let me help cook a meal or even get one ready to cook. I'd never even sliced a tator.

It didn't matter no how. The law came out just that next day after Dee-dee died. Asked me if I had any kin. Not that I knew of is what I told 'em. They took me into town and handed me over to the church. And they handed me over to the Kinlens. I stayed there 'bout 3 months for I said I had enough. I packed my bag, left a note, and took off for home. I learned my way about and here I sit still. Just as alive as I was the day I was born.