Football is Consuming my LIFE

My oldest son (as I'm sure you are all sick of hearing) playes football. Practice is twice a week with games on Saturday. My daughter cheers for football on Saturdays and practices at the football field the same nights. My husband coaches, which means we get together with the team (like the pot-luck at our house last weekend). My husband also playes in two leagues, one on Wednesday night and one on Sunday. We always watch the NFL games - at least one sometimes three. This weekend we are having people over for the game.  All my husband is capable of talking about right now is football. No matter how the conversation starts, it ends with football.

                 me: " I talked to my sister today. She has morning sickness really bad."

             hubby: "I was feeling sick before my game. The first quarter we............."

                 me: "Boys have homework tonight"

            hubby: " I need to do some research so I can update my fantasy football team"

Our family meals are all centered around football. Practice? it's hamburger helper, fast food or something quick like spaghetti. NFL game? I'm making nachos, pizza or chili. No more big weekend breakfasts with all the trimmings. Now it's protein bars, pop tarts or doughnuts on the way to the game.

I'm doing double the laundry because of all the practice and game clothes. And washing the floor twice as much from all the cleats walking through the house.

Last night after Hubby's game (which they won) kids went to bed. Hubby went to bed.  I sat down at the computer. When Yahoo! popped up there were those little articles about football bloopers, miracle plays and the dead player. I was reading it all for about ten minutes before I realized what I was reading. 

 Football is consuming my life!

A Eulogy and an Ode

A Eulogy

He made us laugh

He always made us feel loved

He brought us joy and fulfillment

He was ready for us when we needed him

He knew how to keep things interesting

We only knew him for a short time and his terminal illness was hard on all of us as we watched him fade. He will be missed. He is already missed. I ask that those who knew him join me for a memorial service on Saturday at 9pm. Anyone who would like to share a memory may. There will be no viewing as the family feels this would be inappropriate.

In loving memory of:

Our Love Life

2001-2010

I wrote this at the end of summer. My husband is in college as well as working full time. Finals were getting to him and our love life was suffering. He didn't think it was funny. Maybe you will. 

And an

Ode to My Metabolism

We use to be friends, you and I

To loose weight, I didn't even try

I thought it and POP!

Five pounds would drop

I use to be able to count on you

This morning I looked at my coffee

And I swear my stomach grew

I thought we were Best Friends Forever

Counting calories? Never!

You'd always let me order extra fries

Now the things go right to my thighs

So now I know that no bite is free

How long had you been planning

to ditch out on me?

I know I took advantage of you

I took you for granted, it's true

But you really left me in a rut

Have you seen the size of my new butt?!

Our old friends are no longer welcome here

I can't even tell you when

I last saw cookie, chip or beer

I thought we were a team

What you did was just plain mean

You left me like a bad divorce

But I guess that's par for course

Tight arms, slim hips, adieu

Farewell Metabolism

I guess it's no longer me and you

Crazy Chreerleader Moms

           My daughter is a cheerleader this year (bowing head in shame).   She had a cheer competition Sunday morning. We were up at 6:30 curling hair, putting on make-up, taking a magic marker to her cheer shoes, packing snacks and drinks that wouldn't stain her hands, mouth, or uniform, and all my required spirit wear (beads, tattoos, shirt, etc). We drove an hour and five minutes to the competition and paid five dollars for parking. On Thursday there was a rumor it would be cancelled due to the weather but it wasn't. At least, not until we had been there for an hour and a half, standing in the drizzle waiting for it to start (shaking fist at stupid directors).

           This news meant every parent was trying to get out of there at the same time. The ensuing chaos was, well, chaotic.  Cheer Moms, in there high priced SUV's,  were jumping the grassy dividers between parking areas trying to get into a faster moving line of traffic. They were refusing to let mothers from opposing teams pull out of their parking spots into the line of outgoing traffic. At one point two cars were fighting for the same spot in line, both inching forward, almost daring the other driver to hit their car. When, into this dangerous situation a large silver Chevy pick-up truck jumped the divider landing between the two cars and tried to intimidate them into relinquishing the little hold they had on that spot. Not to be outdone, a new white Nissan SUV jumped the barrier as well landing on the outside of the pile. I watched in horror as all four cars tried to claim the spot which, technically didn't even exist yet as traffic had been at a standstill for the past seven minutes and a stroller could not have fit there. Another cheer mom with a blue and silver pom-pom tied into her hair and bright blue eye shadow up to her over-plucked eyebrows bounced across the barrier from the other direction trying to force her way in front of us. I'll let someone pull out of their parking spot into the line but I wasn't about to let her in. She joined the chorus of yelling moms (Everyone's windows are up - including yours. Who do you think can hear you??). My mini van and I stood our ground. Four minutes later when we finally inched forward far enough she gunned it. At reckless speeds she cut in behind me, bypassing our line, she jumped another grass divider and barrelled her way into that line of traffic.

                I was once stuck in a parking garage for four and a half hours after a Yankees game. People were peeing, in corners, shouting over the walls, honking. It was bad. But we all managed to take turns in a fair and orderly manner. I'm telling you, cheer moms are crazy.  All in all it took us fifty three minutes to leave the parking lot.  We have to return next weekend and do this all over again. I'm thinking of upping my insurance coverage before then.  

A Short History, a Poem and the Truth

I'm well aware that I come across a little too happy with myself and my life.  I know I can seem conceited,stuck up, blind to reality, whatever label you want to put on it. I know I sometimes seem to have a great, trouble free life that is too gag-me-sweet for anyone to want to hear about. And I know I sometimes come across like I think I have answers. Well, let me tell you how I got to be here.

A Short History

I was born into a cult. My much older father had married my much younger mother. They both had issues. I was the first child of many between two husbands.  We were home schooled and had very little interaction with others outside the church. We were also dirt poor (literally), beaten, mentally abused and brainwashed. We moved all over the country based on where the "church" said we should go.  When I was 14 my parents enrolled me in a public city high school. Those were some of the worst years of my life. I didn't dress right, talk right or act right. I had no clue about movies and music.  It didn't help that I was also more advanced than my peers in the classroom. I wanted to kill myself. I tried once. Others picked on me. I was raped twice.  As soon as I graduated I joined the military. I got as far away from the U.S. as I could. And I married the first guy who treated me well once I got there. Marrying a stranger at 18 is a stupid move. We didn't know each other and our differences made our relationship unbearable. As soon as he realized how easily I broke he broke me - repeatedly. Though he never laid a hand on me his words and actions cut me deep. Once again I contemplated suicide. I begged for a divorce. But really I had no where to go.  Then he went on a long deployment. It was the best thing for us. I grew strong. I strengthened my relationship with God. I became unbreakable. He returned and tried to pick up where he had left off but I wasn't that person anymore. I told him I was leaving and I did. Something inside him snapped at that moment. The man I had been married to died and a new man was born.  I stayed though I did not love him. I love him now, so much more than I had loved that stranger ten years ago. And now, now I have a wonderful house, kids, body, husband, life, town and church.

A Poem
Written when I was 15, I believed there was no happiness to be had, everything was a twisted game and life was the real hell.

There is no
Utopian Nation
Life of
Temptation
Play with
Flirtation
Use
Manipulation
Such a
Twisted Sensation
When the
Devil's Creation
Drops us at
Hell's Train Station
Ride 'til
Damnation
Past all
Salvation

and the TRUTH
I've been through a lot. I know a lot. I made it through, not just surviving, but thriving. I cannot regret my past because it brought me to my present. I am who I am because of all I have been through. I may seen weird to some but they do not know my story. I'm ok with who I am. I love my life because I want for nothing.  I am a happy, God fearing woman who believes things happen for a reason and anything can be overcome. I am very compassionate and love to help but no one is allowed to step on me.  I am not conceited, just incredibly grateful for what I do have.  And, now you know why; I know what the other side looks like.

Stand my Ground or Walk??

Two houses down there is a child who goes to pre-school with my daughter. The bus stops at both houses. Since we live on a busy street this sometimes stops up to twenty cars. At first the other child only road the bus home. In the morning the bus stopped at our house and in the afternoon to help keep traffic moving I walked two doors down so both children got off the bus in one stop. This week the child started riding the bus to school as well. On Monday, I suggested to the mother that she walk down to my house is the morning and I'd walk to hers in the PM so we don't hold up traffic (hasn't happened yet).  Yesterday afternoon at the bus stop I asked her what she thought and she said she'd let me know. Today she starting ranting at me via text that she will NOT walk to my house and in fact she believes I should walk to hers both times as her house is the first stop, especially since I'm the one all concerned about traffic. She also tells me that she feels more comfortablee with her daughter being picked up in front of her house. THERE IS ONLY ONE HOUSE BETWEEN US! Not to mention, we are required by law to be out there with them so I am not suggesting her child walk herself to my house. I honestly don't mind walking but then I have to wait with her twice a day and that bugs me. Also, it is scheduled for the bus to stop twice; I was just trying to be helpful. This morning I waited at my house. I can't stand people walking all over me.  Should I walk or stand my ground?

Over the Train Tracks

We recently moved from a big city to an tiny town most people haven't even heard of.  Taking kids to practice use to involve a fifteen minute drive - at least, and freeway travel and rush hour traffic. STRESSFUL! Last night while my son and I were walking to practice, (that's right, walking, it's just over the train tracks) we had the most fun conversation about catching grasshoppers.  After practice he suggested we go see the end of his brother's practice. Before the move this would have meant an additional 17 minute drive. But, I happily agreed, after all, it was just over the train tracks. Walking to the football field we talked about the wonderful outdoor smells, we jumped in the first fall leaves, we held our thumbs up to the moon. This is what I have been missing when we drive everywhere. I watched my child laugh along side me. He caught me watching him and grabbed my hand. With a squeeze he said, "you are the greatest Mom ever".  I hadn't done anything to deserve this praise. Honestly, we were walking more because I'm trying to do my part to cut down on pollution then because I was trying to be a good mom and spend some quality time with my son. Still, it worked out, no pollution, a healthy little walk, quality time with my boy. I love how our little town is bringing us closer. When my daughter gets home we are walking to the store that sells homemade jams; it's just over the train tracks.

My Success is not Yours

The Surprise Party
Throwing a surprise birthday party is hard! I couldn't think of a good hiding place for everything I had purchased so I decided to leave it all in my car. Hubby checked the bank account and wanted to know why I had spent so much - I lied - shamefully well. He went into my car to get the soccer ball. Thankfully I had moved everything into our second stairwell. He wanted me to meet him for lunch with friends, which I couldn't do with food cooking and prep work to be done but I couldn't tell HIM that so instead we fought. He was suppose to be gone when guests arrived but because of the long lunch he didn't go to the other thing he had planned, which meant he was home. He looked at my cell and saw text messages between his brothers and I. Thankfully, he finally took a nap so guests were showing up and keeping quiet in the yard and sun room. Our darling son ran into the house calling for his brother to come outside because their friends were here. This woke up Hubby who was just too curious about what friend was here to go back to sleep and came outside. His family showed up 30 minutes late (they were suppose to arrive first to help me)so Hubby was already out there when they pulled up. But, He was still kinda surprised. The large grocery bill and the missed lunch date didn't clue him in.  Though he figured I was planning something from the texts, he didn't think it was for that day. Even the friend being at our house didn't give it away until he walked outside. So, a success, of sorts. He had a great time.

What is SUCCESS?
But this all leads to another thought, He just turned 30. He's been married for 10 years, he has his boys and his girl, he has a dog, a house, a successful job. By many standards his life is on a good track and he should not feel "bad" about getting older - not that 30 is old.  We heard a lot of this over the weekend. "he's got his S*!t together". One friend who came is two years older than Hubby. He also agreed that Hubby had his "stuff" together. He, however, is unwed, with no prospects, no children, a new(ish) career, only a small townhouse which used to be his grandmothers. He stayed long after all other guest had left and what he really wanted to talk about was this.  What were our thoughts? Was he less of a "success"? Should he want these things? And, what if he didn't? Honestly, I'm not sure. I mean, I'm a stay-at-home mother. My entire identity is wrapped up in the belief that the life I have makes me successful. Seriously, I'd be very depressed if my idea of success was a well paying career.  Hubby too considers himself a successful person; he has the life he wants. But isn't that success? Not so much what the life is but that it is the one you want? Our friend is indecisive.  Are people still so programmed to think that a house and family is the ultimate success that they can't even fully acknowledge that it might not be what they want? And if it isn't what they want, isn't it better for them to be a success at something that makes them happy than a depressed individual who is a crappy spouse and bad parent? Everyone is just so different, I don't see how there can be a one size fits all idea of success.

How To: PLAN A DISASTER

Okay, so here's the deal. My husband wants a surprise birthday party. It's a big birthday for him so I get it. He is a very good Hubby (mostly) so he deserves it. My problem? I have two actually.........

Problem #1)
He never celebrates my birthday! This year I told him in no uncertain terms that my birthday was going to get celebrated or his wouldn't. My birthday is a full month and a half before his. He FINALLY took me out last weekend. Oh! And I got the babysitter, picked the place, sat him down at the computer so he could send me an e-card before we left and even had to keep reminding him so he wouldn't forget the date.  And, there were no gifts. I get that this is hard for him, I had a great time and I don't mind having to orchestrate it all myself as long as his heart is in the right place about it. But I don't think he can ask for a Big Surprise Birthday Party if he can't even say Happy B-day to me and get me a card without serious prompting. And, seriously, six weeks past my birthday and a week before he wants a party?????

Anyway, because I love him, and because I am a complete pushover when it comes to him I am trying to throw him a surprise party, uh, TOMORROW! Oh, gosh! This is all so awful!

Problem #2)
My husband is a bit of a beast. Most people, well, they don't really like him.  He looks like he's on steroids, he is very, very smart.  Everything he says, whether it is nice, a joke, a suggestion or an insult sounds the same -mean. It is hard to talk to someone who looks like that, sounds like that and also knows what they are talking about. Oh, did I mention he has no patience? Especially for stupidity.  Who in the world am I suppose to invite to this disaster??? (I mean, party)
I invited his family, one of his long time friends and one of his co-workers as well as one of the guys he coaches with. I didn't even bother with trying anybody from his football team, they love him on the field but he gets more penalties than anyone else and is always yelling at his own team. I really don't think they would come.

image from: http://www.sconefest.com/john/blog/marvel/hulk_m.jpg

The funny thing is, he is a really great guy, He paid to take my baby sister and brother to Disney World because they have never been, he coaches 6-8 football, he does dishes and laundry and takes care of the yard. He takes his boys to boy scouts. He even takes me clothes shopping.  He deserves this - even if he does act like the Incredible Hulk in front of everyone else. I really hope this does not turn into a huge disappointment...................

Keeping the Trains

              I have a sister getting ready to close on her first house. I have another sister who just started college. I have another sister who just found out she is pregnant with her first child. Another family member is getting married this weekend. It makes my life feel stagnant. True, I've already done all these things. It just feels like all my big firsts are past.  

             I had a different kind of first today.Today, I decided to keep the trains.  My middle son was very big into Thomas the Train when he was little. Even though he hasn't touched it in years he never wanted to get rid of the stuff.  Finally, I decided I was going to donate them. I started to sort through the bin when a memory hit me so hard I froze.  Do you remember Little People? The actual little ones not the "safe" little ones? We had tons of them when I was growing up, we had houses and schools and shops. We had a station wagon and a pop-up camper. We had a play ground. I loved those little guys. It is the only toy from my childhood that my parents kept and when we visit, my kids can play with them. I think that is awesome.  I'm a tosser. I don't keep things. They go to charity, get sold or get trashed. I have very few things from my kids first years. I just don't see the point. I decided to keep the trains. When my kids have kids and they come to visit I can pull out the big bin of trains. I will remember my son playing with them, I will watch him remembering that wonderful part of his childhood and I will watch my grandbabies play with a well loved toy saved just for them.  It's a different kind of first, that's for sure.Actually, it makes my stomach act a little funny thinking about it. I'm really glad I'm Keeping the Trains.  

Hello Road, I missed you!

               I'm a runner. We are a special breed. We only compete against ourselves. We run in weird weather conditions, we pee in the woods.Yeah, I know, we are so cool! I haven't run most of the summer since the kids were home.  With school back in I knew my time had come but the past two weeks I just couldn't get out there.  Today I woke up with a strong desire to run.  I put on my running clothes, saw the kids off on their buses and headed for the door. My plan? Run to the gym and back. The gym is about four miles away. I honestly didn't know if I would be able to do this as my fist run.But, I figured the gym gave me a half way water break and worst case I could beg a ride home from one of my gym friends. I acually made it there feeling pretty good. I went in, got a drink, and decided, yup; I'm gonna run back. I told a friend who has to drive past my place to get home to watch for me and make sure I hadn't died trying to do this.  I set out for home and after about 100 yards I thought I had made a big mistake.  Now here is why I love running. Running is not a skill. I don't need to know the rules, I don't need to know how to throw or catch or hit.  There are no special moves to practice. You don't have to go to a special field or court. You can start anywhere and end anywhere.You get out there, you take a deep breath and you just go.  You trust your own strength to move you, to carry you over hills and around curves. You can think while you run and let the scents of the life around you fill you up.  The empowering feeling that my strength can carry me over this distance is awesome. When I started to think I couldn't do this I thought about why I love to run, I put my head down and said OK I am doing this! I made it home. Actually I made it home pretty fast. I'm really suprised I was able to run 8 miles at a 7minute mile pace.  I feel great right now. The road is my friend and I can't wait to get out there again.

I'm a Biker Chic (Yeah right)

          This weekend Hubby and I went out.  I was really wanting some Olive Garden bread sticks and salad and he sweetly agreed to take me there.  So up the stairs I went to change into something nice.  A few minutes later he shouts up that we are taking the bike. This is fantastic since we haven't been on it in a while and it is starting to get cold so this may be our last chance this year. But this also means I'm changing into something more casual. When I come down the stairs Hubby tells me I look like a biker chic. I hadn't meant to but with my black boots, skinny jeans, studded belt and favorite black t-shirt I guess I kind of did.  Not really caring I kissed the kids goodbye, gave final instructions to the babysitter, put on my safety gear, hopped on the back and off we went.

         When we get there Hubby pulls to the curb in front of the door to let me off so I can get us on the list. I swing my leg over the bike. I unstrap my helmet and pull it off. My long hair fell out of my helmet landing around my shoulders and in my face.  I shake my head to get my hair out of my way. Holding my helmet in one hand I turn to the door to start walking.  Every eye is on me. (yikes!)  This was a Saturday night which means there was a crowd outside waiting for their buzzers to go off. I walk the gauntlet of staring faces to the front door. I think, huh, I kind of like this. I go in I get my little buzzer I head back out. Every eye is still on me. I think, huh, I don't like this. 

          While Hubby and I wait for our table, then eat, then pay, then leave I noticed people looking over at us.  You can see the thoughts in their eyes.  They think our lives are exciting, they think we may be dangerous, or, at the very least that we have a devil-may-care attitude. You can see the young boys and some of the dads envying Hubby. You can see that some of the older folks think "I used to be like that". There is a perception, a preconceived notion about bike riders. I have noticed it before. The most prominent one was on our road trip to Atlantic City. We were at a stop light and there was an older woman in the car next to us. She kept giving us pointed dirty looks like we were the problem with the world.  Part of me wanted to jump off the bike and tell her "Wait a minute before you judge, I've been married to this man for nine years. We have three kids and we are good parents, we give to charities and go to church. We barely even ever swear or drink!" And part of me wanted to flip her off and stick out my tongue, which probably would have just proved her point for her.  But really, why judge? You really have no idea. I like riding on the bike. I love the feel of the wind and the sway of the bike. I love being wrapped around Hubby. I love that I have to trust him completely on a bike. 

The bike for us is an escape, a deviation from our normal existance not a public statement about who we are.  And yet, that very experience of conclusions being drawn about us gives another dimension to that escape. For that moment maybe I am a wild woman, traveling the country with a biker I just met, not a care in the world, never knowing where I will lay my head or who I will meet next.  

Whose the F*CK are These?!?

Hubby was folding laundry (yes, he's wonderful) when he calls for me to come to the room. As I walk in I see he is holding up a pair of boxer briefs that are obviously not his. "Whose the Fuck are these?!" he yells at me "Whose the FUCK are these?!?!?" At first I had no idea. And then it hits me.  I broke into laughter which seemed to confirm my guilt, which made me laugh harder. I had to call my oldest son in to explain.  I'd been shopping with the kids earlier in the week.  My son said he needed new underwear so I had let him pick some new ones out.  These belonged to our son. Hubby was very relieved.  I wasn't. I mean these boxers wouldn't have fit,well, Hubby. But, they would have fit a slim man. My oldest son is a big guy for his age. He's taller and stockier than most kids his age. People think he's about two years older than he is.  We wear the same size shoe, we share t-shirts, I've got about 8 inches on this kid, max. But I don't think I really SAW how big he was getting. Earlier today I went into the bathroom after he was done showering (which he does exclusively) to collect dirty clothes. The second I opened the door my senses were assaulted with a smell which, until that very instant, I had associated

with men - the smell of a man's soap. My baby was using men's soap?  It

wasn't the soap his father uses though so I asked him about it. He said he

found it tucked into the back of our hall closet.  Sooooooo, not only is he

using it but he actively tried to find it??  Since when was  the  scent of the

ocean not good enough for him?  When did  this start to matter? How  is

this happening so fast???? Getting hit by my son smelling like a guy AND

wearing boxers big enough to freak out my husband all on the same day

is a bit much.  I need a drink.  

Come Again??

I need to brag for a minute:
I am a very pretty woman. I take good care of myself. I dress well. I have curves where they should be. I'm confident and self posessed. I moisturize.
Here is why I tell you this:
I was playing with my daughter, acting all silly when I collapsed onto the couch laughing. My daughter takes this moment to give me a little advice. With a hand on her hip she tells me,
            "You know? You should really work harder on being pretty and girly and less hard at being a dork."

Okay, yes. I readily admit that I have a dorky streak and maybe it is bigger than I like to admit. But did my baby really need to say that to me???
            My immediate response was to say, "Hey, I am pretty!"
            To which she replied, "Well, yeah, but only 'cause you look like me!"

So true, she is a five year old version of myself. Same hair, same eyes, same nose and smile.  We differ is our fashion sense though. She thinks shorts are for boys only and if it is not pink, purple or "matches our eyes" it is not to be worn. And hair is NEVER to be in a pony tail unless it is for cheer leading. I am constantly getting grief from her for not having on heels and not having gloss on my lips.  But this - this insult! It's just too much! Maybe a mom who no longer has toddlers has to let go of the goofiness.......or maybe I'm going to grab her when she comes into my room to wake me up in the morning and tickle her until she takes that comment back!

Went Fishing, Caught Duck

I have a fear. It is embarrassing but I can't help it. I've had it since I was very little. Worms freak me out. My boys keep asking me to take them fishing and my first thought always is, then I'll have to touch a worm....

 I recently discovered that you can fish with tiny crayfish (which I don't have a problem touching). However, yesterday evening when they asked to go fishing there wasn't time to go to the stream to catch crayfish and then go to the pond to fish. I came up with a brilliant (cough. I thought) idea. The last time we went to the pond we brought bread for the ducks and the fish went crazy so I figured (OK. I admit. It was a bad idea) we would fish with bread! I grab a bag, the poles, the kids, put everything in the van and we headed out. When we got there I looked for a good spot. Being the smart person I am I picked a spot away from the ducks. I rolled little bits of bread up and put it on their hooks. I also threw crumbs into the water to attract the fish. I, uh, attracted the ducks first. The kids quickly pulled in their lines but one duck just wasn't having it. He chased that line and kept trying to grab the moving bread. He had made his mind up to get that piece of bread.

Finally he caught that bread and made a triumphant noise which was cut short when he realized his beak was caught. Another duck was hurling himself at him and we were trying to pull him in to unhook him. It was mayhem. We got him to shore, shooed the other duck away and managed to get the hook out.  Poor duck. Thankfully he will be fine. Being the smart person I am, we did not pack up and go home. We moved further away from the ducks and tried again.  This time I am pleased to say we actually caught a fish!

Bus Comes When?

      My daughter started pre-school today.  We were told to have her out side by 9:15am. Being who I am, we were out there at 9:10. Not bad. It was a beautiful day and we were having fun. 9:15, 9:20, 9:25, 9:30....still no bus. Finally at 9:40 I drove her to school. When I tried to figure out what had happened and what to expect tomorrow I was told there is only one bus for ALL the preschoolers and my daughter would be on the bus for 30+ minutes each way and no one knew when I should expect the bus to arrive in the morning. THE SCHOOL IS 3 MINUTES FROM MY HOUSE!  When school was done she wanted to ride the bus home so I figured I'd let her.  I put her on it and went home to sit on my porch and wait for her. I had just opened up my book when the bus pulled up and dropped her off. Okay....
    So this time I talked directly to the Bus Driver. (I apologize to all the cars stopped behind him) Apparently there was a major accident he got stuck behind. Apparently he will be at our house between 9:30 and 9:40 every morning and apparently she will only be on the bus for about 10 minutes.  How does this information get so skewed?  Seems pretty simple to me.
       Anyway, she had a great first day. I guess she will be riding the bus tomorrow.

Communication

With that big communication fiasco eating up time the only thing I had time to do was head to the gym.  With a friend on each side of me on the elliptical we got into a bit of a discussion about communication (granted it revolved more around spouses than school staff). We agree that the biggest problem between the sexes is communication; the technique, the quantity and the desire for. What do you think?

run away weekend

This weekend hasn't turned out quite like I had hoped. I was hoping to go to the coast to watch the waves from Earl Friday morning but at the last moment my ride backed out. Saturday simply didn't exist beyond the sports.  We had planned to go out in the boat today but alas, I had a sick kid.

I however, am going to enjoy my life no matter its form 

Friday - (Since I wasn't leaving at 2am anymore) we bought the boys a futon for the basement and transformed their "kids" playroom into a "guys" space.  It's so cool I'm spending time down there. 

Saturday - watched my youngest son practice his position as goalie. I watched my oldest son DOMINATE a football field and I saw my baby girl cheering her little heart out in her adorable little cheer outfit.  Okay, I admit, it really rubs me wrong that she wants to cheer.  But, she is supported all the way. I even (gulp) help the cheer coach at the games. 

Today -Thankfully it was too cold to go out on the boat anyway so instead I managed to whip up some delicious crepes for breakfast and some fresh bread.  We played board games, ordered Chinese food for dinner which we ate in the sun room and watched Wizards of Waverly Place (my kids have gotten me addicted to it).  

Not too shabby for a weekend gone wrong. Ahh but the week still awaits and, yes, my house is a mess...

When Time off equals No Time

My husband has four days off work because of the holiday. My school age children have three days off. Big Frickin yay for all of them.  Not that I don't like spending time with my husband and kids, I do. I really do. But as a stay-at-home-mom I don't really get "days off" and everyone else being around the house means it will get messier making my work harder.  It's not just that though. Hubby decided with so many days off big house projects need to be taken care of. I totally agree. The problem? Instead of working on my own stuff or enjoying the weekend I'll be his wing man on these projects.  Don't get me wrong. I actually like manual labor (read my last blog about exercise?) and I like watching something I am working on come together.  But this also means I can't relax when it's done because everything else will be backed up - especially with the kids running free while we do this stuff.  But this isn't the whole problem.  On Saturday I also have a 9am practice for my soccer player, an 11am game for my football player and a 3pm game for my cheerleader.  Sunday and Monday being the holiday there will be a gathering with the In-Laws. So, come Tuesday the "Days off" will actually have been filled with TONS of work and the days ahead of me will be spent playing catch-up.  Hey, this is life, I get that. And I know, I chose to get married, have kids and put them in sports. I do love all of this. It just sucks when you hear "Time Off" and just KNOW it means "No Time" for you.


By the way: This rant partly comes from no sleep since Darling Hubby tossed and turned all night shouting out random things and keeping me wide awake. Don't worry though, he's been sleeping soundly for the past hour or so......................................grrrrrrr

Skinny: Worth It?

I have worked out for the past 15years - if not daily - then close to it. I work out because:

(A) I like being able to play around with my kids
(B) I like feeling strong and master of my own body
(C) I like how I feel after a workout
   and
(D) I like to look good

My sister (who also stays fit) and I were discussing this and I wanted some opinions. Some studies say it is better to have a little extra weight on you. Some say that that might be true but not if it is on your middle. Some still say we women need to keep our BMI between 18-25.  Besides the Health Factor there is also the Public Opinion Factor which leads to my other question:  Are girls trying to be skinny because THEY think it makes them prettier than other girls or because guys REALLY PREFER thin girls to their curvier companions? 

I recently read a book called Hungry by Crystal Renn. She believes that every one's body has a set weight it wants to be at - a weight that is easy to maintain. She believes that this weight range is rather large and all places on it are equally healthy. I'm not exactly a fan of the book but I didn't necessarily hate it either.  

I know that I can eat less without feeling hungry and quit working out and only put on about 4 -6lbs (all on my arms, hips and thighs)  before my body hits a maintainable weight. I also know that if I do this my flexibility and strength go out the window and I feel more drained throughout the day. So my questions are these:

1. What are your thoughts on a healthy weight?
2. Are girls the cause of the skinny craze or are guys?
3. Is working out worth the time and effort or something to let go of?   

My Life has two Faces

I'm married, I have children - all by the same man, I have a dog, I cook and bake, clean, tend my flower garden, I volunteer, help with the children's activities, I'm a Christian......... 

This side of me is not a fraud.  I like all these things. Yet, there is another side of me which is equally real. I love adventure and travel.  I've visited between 10 and 15 of the States and 3 other countries, I've eaten strange foods,  I've swam in both oceans.....

The problem is I cannot have both these lives at the same time.  To do one I have to take a break from the other.  Don't get me wrong, I still camp - but the kids come with. We took the motorcycle to Atlantic City this summer, but that meant setting up a weekend babysitter.  I still travel, but my last long trip was a road trip to Disney World.  Part of me aches  for the freedom to move around as I use to.  Part of me is REALLY enjoying calm hours in the garden while a New York style Cheesecake chills in the house which, we eat later that night while playing Monopoly. 

The older the kids get, the more freedom I get. The older the kids get the more time I want to spend with them. Time goes so fast.  It will be over so soon. So, my conclusion is this: I did what I could, I do what I can. My time will come again.
 My children are having some fun adventures. I am being the engaged mother I want to be. The best part is, my children get to see that I am a real person with wants and dreams.  They get to see that I am not a slave to the family or society and that taking care of ones self is healthy - not selfish.