Just A Day in the Life

I went to hang up my daughter's purse collection (as seen here), and the hook fell off the wall. "Mommy, it's bwoten (broken)!"

"Yes, baby. I broke it. It fell."

"You have to fix it! When fings (things) are bwoten, you have to fix dem!"

Such inspirational, yet simple words from my toddler. Heh.

And then, after messing it with to no avail, I went for a drink in the fridge, and found this:

Doesn't everyone find a telescope in their fridge?

Kids are awesome.

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Traveling and Our Family Bucket List

We spent time looking out over the ocean for Thanksgiving, visiting my parents, drinking in the sea air as we trolloped all over coastal Florida with a smile. We played at the park, we ate collaboratively cooked meals together, sharing in laughter and joy for three wonderful days.

It's always bittersweet when visiting family - the long, butt-numbing amount of time spent in the van crossing many states, the upheaval and close quarters in a hotel, the different foods (and often unhealthy ones due to convenience) but there is so much to be thankful for, so much to celebrate by being together again, that the good very much outweighs the bad.

The distance still is hard, though. I don't get to visit half as much as I'd like to. I never thought I'd live this far away from my family, but such is the military life - going where the Army puts us. Our next duty station will take us that much farther away, too. The drive may end up being longer, our butts may become that much more numb, but the good will still outweigh the bad, even if the travel is extended. We're a traveling bunch, our family. It's what we do. And we love (almost) every minute of it. (We could do without the arguments and eleventy-billion bathroom breaks, though.)

We decided in the car on the way back that we want to visit every state as a family, and we're considering making a "family bucket list" of things we want to do together. What about you? Do you have something similar? Do you yourself have a "bucket list" of things you'd like to do?

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Peace

That is what I see when I run. Can you blame me for doing it as much as I can?

I used to enjoy taking my toddlers out with me to run (in the double-jogger), all that fresh air and sunlight. But now, it's too cold, the wind too strong, I don't want to make them sick, so I have to wait until my husband comes home to run. My running time has now become my only alone time.

Just me and my quiet, embracing friend, the road.

It never judges me, never yells demands or shakes it's finger disappointingly. The road is my healer, my church.

Tonight, I got to share this special time with my two ten-year-olds. Because the weather was unseasonably mild, we took off at sunset. They pedaled their little fifth-grade butts off while mom ran behind them. It was glorious. And peaceful. And perfect. (And they are SO fast!)

I may not have been able to keep up with their speed, but they always waited for me. They gave me enough distance to run alone, yet share my peace with them as well, watching the sun go down behind the autumn tree together.

I can't wait to do it again with them tomorrow.

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I Don't Feel A Day Over 25, Except Today

Today is my 34th birthday.

I was supposed to wake up to kids swarming over me, smothering me in birthday kisses and homemade birthday cards while coffee placed into my tired hands for consumption. I was going to wake up and go run 34 minutes - one minute for each year I've been alive.

Instead? I was up all night with Baby Dude, who wanted to wreak havoc on that plan. He even got my husband up around 2 or 3am to join our up-all-night party. It's been BRUTAL. I have bags under my eyes that have their own zip code.

But today, I'm dealing with an extra year tacked onto my age. These aren't the lips of a 33-year-old slurping coffee. This isn't the body of a 33-year-old restarting the dryer or wiping the crust from her once 33-year-old eyes. Today, I am thirty-four. Wow.

I know I often talk about where the time goes for the kids, watching them grow up, all their firsts, etc. But when the hell did I grow up? I still feel as young as I did in college (mostly, except for that whole, I could stay up all night thing. Ahem.). Despite the few more wrinkles and stretch marks from birthing (many) children. I may not be the same size as I was, and have more gray hair than I did back then, but I feel better than I used to before I lost weight, and with running all the time, I feel even better than that!

Happy Thirty Freakin' Four to me. Despite no sleep, and draggin' ass this morning thanks to my cranky two-year-old, it's my birthday today, and I'll pull myself together in order to celebrate it. I hope I can convince poor tired hubby to do the same. He's making me a carrot cake with cream cheese frosting later. (My favorite!)

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Chocolate Peanut Butter Muffins with Truvia

Yes, I totally just say "Chocolate Peanut Butter Muffins."

I also may or may not have set fire to my kitchen in my attempts to make them for you. Ahem.

Making a recipe with your toddler is about as close to a straight-jacket worthy event I'll ever get. Between the "Why's" and the "I wanna mix!" every second, or the splattering of ingredients she.absolutely.must.pour.her.self. I'm lucky to have come out of that with my sanity and hair in tact.

I cannot say the same for all of my kitchen tools.

Don't ask. I'm just awesome. And by awesome, I mean, not so much.

Chocolate Peanut Butter Muffins

INGREDIENTS:

• 1/2 cup peanut butter
• 1/3 cup softened butter
• 3/4 cup Truvia
• 2 eggs
• 2 tsp. vanilla
• 1-3/4 cups organic flour
• 1/4 cup unsweetened cocoa
• 1-1/2 tsp. baking powder
• 1/2 tsp. baking soda
• 2/3 cup milk

DIRECTIONS:

• Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. 
• Line muffin pans with paper liners and set aside. 
• In medium-sized bowl, combine peanut butter and softened butter and beat to a cream well. 
• Add Truvia and cream together until light and fluffy. 
• Scramble the eggs in a small bowl, and add to butter/sugar mixture, adding the vanilla and beat well. 
• In sifter or sieve, combine flour, cocoa, baking powder, and baking soda (if you don't have a sifter, that's alright, I don't have one myself). Add dry ingredients into peanut butter mixture; add milk, and stir until batter is smooth. 
• Spoon batter into prepared muffin cups.
• Bake for 20-25 minutes or until muffins spring back when touched in center. 
• Remove to wire racks or plate to cool.
• Makes 12-18 muffins (depending upon how full you fill each cup. I made 18 with this recipe).

My kids are DEVOURING these right now. I have resisted their temptations thus far, but not for long.

What are YOU up to, baking-wise?  

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First Grader Allergy Testing aka Death By Puppy Dog Eyes

"Mom? Are they gonna give me a shot? You know, like the last time?"

He looked up at me, and his eyes could've replaced the sun and moon, they were so enlarged and nervous. "I don't think so, baby. I don't know what they're going to do.."

My voice trailed off. I didn't know how to prepare him for this allergy test - would they draw blood to test, or give him those stampy-pricks in his forearms? We wouldn't know until his examination. Until then, he sat nervously, feet wobbling beneath him.

Turns out, for children then use the forearm prick method. Even worse, they do it one-at-a-fricken-time. I already knew he was nervous, and the second they did one, it'd be all over, he'd spaz. And he was going to endure SEVENTEEN of these, each marked with blue marker just-so, evenly spaced. He was very anxious. He had already begun crying the second she cleaned his arm with the alcohol pad. Oh boy.

Then she pricked him with the test sample, and instructed him that, no matter how much any of them itched, he couldn't scratch. He cried harder. She continued scraping near each dot with different allergens - oak, dog, ragweed, mold - each time he shook and tears fell and I felt even more helpless.

She was finally finished, leaving my poor boy a puddle of tears and heaving sobs, and already the control histamine sample started to redden, along with some of the first samples. He kept crying, wanting it to be over, wanting to go home. I did my best to console his fluffy curls while I kept my eyes fixated on the clock, trying to make it move faster with my thoughts. It didn't work.

This is what I had to endure. My heart broken eleventy-thousand times over seeing his face like this:

The verdict? Cedar, Oak, Bermuda and Timothy grasses, cat and dog hair, dust mites, Ragweed, and four different types of mold. And those reactions were determined after testing only seventeen allergens out of the fifty-seven they would normally test for. God only know what else he could allergic to. My poor dude.

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YOUR Holiday Gift Ideas

All over the web you'll be seeing recommendations on what to buy this holiday as presents for your loved ones. I could join in and give you some of my ideas on what to get (but then I may tip my hand on what I'm considering for my family)! Instead, just as I turn to my friends for their ideas, I thought I'd share with you what they think, too, and collect them all in one place, giving you all an opportunity to see what tried and true products they've used, reviewed and recommend for your family.

Feel free to add your own recommendation link here, or one to a product you think is particularly awesome! In my quest to help you, it might help me find something, too!

Gifts for men


Gifts for women


Gifts for boys


Gifts for girls


Gifts for grandparents


Gifts for friends


Gifts for military


Gifts of green


Gifts for the foodie


Gifts that are homemade


Mom-made (like Etsy)


{Disclosure note: I have received no compensation to do this, other than the satisfaction of helping you (my readers) and them (my fellow blogging friends) with linky love. I am not personally endorsing the listed items above as these have not been personally used by me or my family. These links are to other bloggers' reviews of the items recommended, so you can get a first hand take on each product before considering purchasing.}  

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A Poopie Kind-of Day

I woke up to it looking like this, today. Yuck.

It didn't get any better out the back door, either (much to my dismay). (I'm not sure why I thought it would.)

Rain used to be no problem for me. I used to frolic in it, and happily so. Now, it's just a let-down. A ruined day. One filled with dread and dreariness and blah. One where I have to hole up at home.

I didn't expect much to come from this poopie-rainy-no-good day, except maybe a nap with my babies.  (Because for whatever reason, I'm always feeling particularly nappish on rainy days, don't you?)

My toddler had other plans for me, though. She woke up with a monstrous diaper-rash, and was forced to go diaperless to air it out. Little did I know my poopie-rainy day was about to become poop-filled in other ways.

She went poopie in the potty. For the first time. OHMYGOSH!

Hubs and I suddenly noticed she wasn't around anywhere - he immediately sprinted to the bathroom and called for me. YES! Success! Way to go, Baby Sister! Woohoo!

That is, until she followed me in to the bathroom a little later, only to let me in on a secret - she hadn't begun on the potty. She had begun on the floor. (Consequences of going diaper-less, of course.)

Even worse? She tried to hide it. She put a box on it, and when she moved the box, she got it in a second spot on the floor. (Why do I have visions of that scene in the movie Big Daddy when Adam Sandler throws newspaper over pee and spilled milk?) "Woot, mommy! I twied to cwean it up, wike a mom!" She shows me, proudly, with a wadded piece of toilet paper in the fray of her poop-parade on the floor.

I gagged, I won't lie. I freakin' HATE this part of potty training - the accidents. Yuck!

After cleaning it up and mega-sanitizing (both the floor, AND my hands for having to clean it, eww), she promptly fell asleep.

Apparently, crapping in your princess potty for the first time is tiring work, man.

Baby Dude racked out, too.

Must be nice, that whole, nap on a rainy day thing. Me? I'm still wondering when the next sh--, uh, poop hits the fan. Or should I say, floor. Ahem.


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Brethren in Sports (Alternately Titled "I Love Pee Wee Football")

Reason 2389237429387422 why I absolutely love my kids playing sports.

Most of the kids on his team have never played before. They're out there, dressed the same, facing this game head-on for the first time ever in their little lives. It can be scary, as is evident by their deer-in-the-headlights look sometimes, or confusion when the ball is snapped. But there are quiet moments like this that make the wins and losses insignificant.

Comradery. Teamwork. Family.

My heart swells with love and pride for these children, these football-brothers to my son who I never knew. Until now.

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Happy Veteran's Day

 

Last year's Veteran's Day was spent quite eventfully playing with military equipment and bouncing in jumpy houses. The year before it was spent at a local nursing home, honoring vets there. This year, it's spent much quieter, tucked away close to home, together. My husband's upstairs, hip-deep in Batman action figures, Dora dolls, and football video games while playing with the kids on his "day-off" (I use that term loosely, because he did go in for a couple hours this morning. The Army never sleeps here at JRTC.)

I am a proud Army wife, married to a proud Army soldier with 14 years of service. We've run the gamut of military adventures good and bad - a Valentine's Day deployment, an R-and-R visit for our son's birth, a nightmarish move 16-hours across country while 7-months pregnant, school issues over and over, housing nightmares, and other crazy things. But there's SO MUCH GOOD, like the wonderful friends and second families you make, the comradery with other military families, Disney, and Busch Gardens, and traveling the globe. Pride. Honor. Dignity. This article tells the military families' tale well.

(Side note: My hubby looks pretty sexy wearing his uniform. Ahem.)

Today is a day of remembrance, a day to honor those who have chosen to wear the country's uniform in service to defend our freedoms and fight for liberty and justice. Many congratulations to you and continued thanks on a job well done to every soldier now home safe and sound with your families. My continued prayers and thoughts are with those of you still overseas, still in harms way, fighting the good fight overseas. I hope to see you safe and stateside soon, friends. For those deploying in the upcoming months, be safe, be strong, keep your head down, your chin up. Your nation thanks you for your service. This mother and wife, especially.

Happy Veteran's Day to every single person in uniform. Thank you for all that you sacrifice and do.

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Old Navy, Gap, Banana Republic 30% off Printable Coupon 2010

Holiday shoppers, check it out, Gap has done it again!

Visit http://www.gapgiveandget.com/ and save 30% off! Pick one of six charities (I picked Feeding America) and print a 30% off coupon to use at Gap, Old Navy and Banana Republic (their outlets, too) for four days beginning November 11th - 14th, and 5% of your purchase goes to the charity you chose!


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This is What Happens When Kids Brush Their Own Teeth

Crap.

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Quiet Improvements

It's the ever-popular storyline - mom has plans, baby has alternate plans. Baby wins. And it used to really get to me.

I woke up this morning just after 5am to prepare for a Veteran's Day 5K I was going to run. My alarm, albeit as silent as you can get it, doesn't just wake me up in the morning. And when Baby Dude wakes, drunkily stumbling for me, it's boob time, plain and simple. And unfortunately, quite a lengthy one usually, too.

I sat there, mentally preparing. I had everything picked out ready to go. I could smell the coffee brewing. But he slurped away as I sat there, fumbling between semi-consciousness and running preparedness. Suddenly he popped off, slumped over, and it was 5:50am and registration began in 10 minutes. I wouldn't make it.

I didn't get upset, though. My husband pointed out to me that I already run my own 5K's by myself, and I could run it later in the morning. And I did.

It's situations like this, where doing something for myself gets interrupted by the little people, that I'm learning how to cope much better than I used to. I roll with the parental punches now-a-days, letting them come at me, seemingly unscathed by them. Every day I grow stronger and stronger. Maybe it's all my running - I'm not just strengthening my body, but my mind as well? I continually keep in mind that they're only this little once {sigh}, and I don't want to be remembered for coming unraveled at each and every crisis or hiccup.

I want to SHOW them how to handle pressure, not just TELL them. Lead by example, if you will.

I recall being quite level-headed working in management before my life as a mother. I aspire for that same focus and ability-to-cope from back then. I'm striving for it, and so far, in my quest to do better, I am succeeding.

What are you quietly working on improving for yourself right now?
 
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Winter Warmth

A couple days ago we broke out the sweaters and winter coats, as the chill in the air stung our ears and nose-tips. I could smell winter in the distance, lingering, forewarning us that it was no longer summer. The sun eventually smoothed out the chill, but not until afternoon. And even still, I felt it bite once the sun dipped behind a cloud or I stepped underneath the shade of a tree, or our porch. I was not ready for this cold yet, so sudden, so furiously soon.

My children seem unfazed, except for the instant runny noses and red-nosed faces. It's hard to convince them to wear the right clothes, since it wasn't just a week or so ago they were wearing tanks and shorts. Breaking out the jeans, long-sleeves, sweaters, fleece - it seems so foreign, as though we've lost time.

I usually feel more prepared for autumn. We ease into the cold weather - it dips into the seventies, then staggers between sixties/seventies for a bit before committing going any lower. One week in the seventies was our last taste of sweet warmth from our Indian Summer-esque time. Hello winter. Hello chill.

I was forced to attend to the lack-of-warm-enough-clothes issue raised by Baby Dude's all-summer dresser drawers. Pouring through the tote, item-by-item that my older sons' had worn, filled me with a warmth I thought I'd lost with summer fading.

Seeing him and his ballerina dressed sister all warm and happy at the park, playing for hours in the illuminating sunshine during the football game today? It's all the warmth I'll need this winter.

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The Wind Run Adventure

I felt the morning's breath on my skin earlier, enticing my excitement to run in dry weather finally. Yesterday I ran with both babies in the misty-rain - they were covered-up but I battled through puddles, wet roads and foggy glasses. It was not enjoyable, so I cut it short.

Today, I was eager to get out there for a longer run, but with the colder weather here, I can't go as early in the mornings as I once did with the babies, I have to wait until it warms up for them. I package them up into their long sleeves, jackets and sweaters, socks and shoes, and warm wooly blankets tucking them away in the stroller in like a burrito.

The sky was so clear today, so blue, no clouds, just glorious color between the bluest sky I'd ever seen and autumn leaves dancing with the wind around us. The air and sun felt so delicious, so relaxing and welcoming, I could not wait to get going. Running is my most favorite time of the day.

Not even a half-mile in, the wind whipped at me with her fierce breath. She startled my three-year-old, and practically clamped my mouth shut, taking my breath away. She pushed so hard against my run, I had to walk, but I didn't stop trying. I laughed. I knew what she was doing, although I couldn't believe it. I muttered, annoyed, "Okay, wind, I'll slow down."

She stopped as soon as the words came out.

I laughed. Was the wind trying to help me? Was she trying to help pace me? Nah. I was losing my mind, or in need of more coffee. I shook off the ridiculous idea, and continued on.

I turned left instead of right.

Turning left meant my long run, and for whatever reason, today, I wanted an adventure. Despite the wind, I wanted to see if I could push the kids in the double jogger for my four-mile-run. I wanted to know if I could do it pushing 80-something-pounds more than normal. No sooner than I rounded the corner down the hill did the wind whip back at me as though I had made a bad choice. I slowed considerably against the wind, and convinced myself that, if I couldn't run it all, I'd do what I could, I'd walk, I'd even stop if need be, but I would still try. The wind stopped as my mind was made up, and I continued on.

I began to notice the wind wasn't working against me, it was helping me. If I was panting too heavily, she'd blow against me, encouraging me to slow down and breath, and so I did. "Okay, wind. I'll walk."

And she'd stop blowing.

Once I rounded the two-mile mark and began a series of hills one after the next - up-down, up-down - the wind blew from behind, easing me up. She would only blow to help me up the hills, now, behind me, making my hills easier. It was amazing to feel her help me and my children up the hill, pushing me, fueling me, whispering to me "You can do it!" the harder I pushed. I was near tears, laughing and tearing-up as the wind swirled and stopped as I neared the top. My children must have thought I was losing it, talking to the wind, laughing while panting as I ran. Each and every time, the wind would lay low on the flat surfaces, but as soon as I needed a little oomph, she'd return to cheer me on.

It was magical. I felt enchanted, like I was running in a dream. I didn't want it to end. I felt like I could keep going forever.

Four miles with my children in the jogger stroller, all with the wind's help. I've never experienced something so ethereal in my entire life. I feel changed by it, and her.

I hope she's there with me tomorrow, and forever. Yesterday, I wasn't so sure I'd ever be ready to run a marathon? Today? I feel like I can do anything I set my mind to.

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{Insert Applause Here}

See that cute kid right there?

He's got this amazing trait - he applauds everybody.

He's that kind-of child that promotes fair-play, clapping for every move, every play. An equal-opportunity clapper, if you will.

It doesn't matter to him who performed well. But, if it's his siblings? Look out - he's El Speedo Clappo. Fast as lightning, so proud of his brothers and sisters.

He is your biggest supporter, whether you know it or not. The epitome of good sportsmanship.

I want to be him when I grow up.

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A Weigh-Less November - Want to Join Me?

I've been running consistently for two months, now. I began running to shake up my work out routine, add in some killer cardio, and get over yet another plateau, in hopes of finally reaching my weight loss goal.

Instead, I've gained weight back.

Sigh.

I know it's my body building muscle faster than it's shedding fat, but because of this gain I've become a slave to the scale. I weigh every couple of days, just to see if my hard work is paying off. And every time I see another gain, it makes me all the more discouraged, questioning myself, wondering if I have what it takes to "get there" finally. I don't want to have to keep working out so hard with no positive result, trying to achieve the seemingly unattainable. I want to "get there" finally so that I can work out for the joy of it, and maintain my goal. Unfortunately, this goal has eluded me thus far.

I know my mindset is broken, and flawed. I know that the numbers on the scale shouldn't matter, especially if I feel good and my clothes fit. I know my goal should be to be happy and healthy, fit and toned, and not measured by the number on the scale, but for me, it's never been just a set of numbers to me, it's an achievement. I work well with a specific goal in mind, with a distinct accomplishment to achieve at the end of a road hard fought. I have a goal, and I want to meet that goal, you know?

But not this month.

For the month of November, my goal is that there is no goal - and no scale - I'm going on a scale-strike. I'm going to eat right, continue running, and work out hard as though scales don't exist. Because for one month, they aren't going to see the light of day. I'm hoping that, by the end of this month, I'm going to see myself in a stronger light, and not care what the scale says as a result - and maybe fix my broken mindset for good. (And maybe, just maybe, by doing this no-scale challenge, inadvertently reaching my goal without trying. Does that make sense? Reverse psychology?)

What do you think? Wanna tackle a Weigh-Less November with me?

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