Get In Shape Girl

Well, it's about time I get back in shape. I have birthed 3 children and don't plan on birthing any more so I have any more excuses...although I came up with plenty over the past 9 months. I had a newborn. I was exhausted. I don't have anywhere to work out. I don't have time to work out. The only time I can work out is at 11pm when I'm done with work and my family is all in bed, dishes are done, house is in order, laundry is caught up...oh wait, that's not 11pm, that's never!

So as you can see I was pretty good at coming up with excuses but I decided it's time. It actually started out back in early February when Lexi was in the hospital. I was up in the wee hours of the morning after Lexi had a respiratory treatment when Tony Horton's 10-Minute Trainer infomercial came on. Wow! I can have a body like that if I only work out 10 minutes a day!?!?!? In my sleep deprived stupor I decided I better order it.

Tony Horton and I had daily dates to work my arms, legs, core and cardio. We have a love-hate  relationship. He's so good for me but he can drive me crazy with his maniacal workout faces. Sorry Tony. That doesn't motivate me. It makes me want to throw my shoe at the TV screen. Pinterest and I also worked on finding some living room workouts I could do while I watched trashy TV. I did find a killer ab workout that I like. Not sure how much it has affected my middle but I'm always sore for a few days after so it has to be good, right?

Came home one morning to find
Will running down the lane to
greet me. That gave me a little more
motivation to make it back up
the lane.

All of this was a good start to get back in shape since my cardio sucked and my muscles were weak...with the exception of the ones in my left arm since those are what I use to lug Lexi around with :) Truth is, it was a good start because as I was adjusting to going back to work full-time after my third child all of the above mentioned excuses were true. I WAS exhausted, I DIDN'T have time or a place to work out, and I had FOUR people to cook for and clean up after. I just decided I couldn't use them as excuses any more and needed to start somewhere. I had at least 10 minutes in my day to spare, right?

And then, about a month and a half ago, a miracle happened. I decided to start running. Most of you probably know that I dislike two things: getting up early and running, but this is how it all began initially. I was getting up early to go run before work. It was awful and I hated every single second of it. But I did notice a huge difference in a short amount of time. My legs were getting toned and I was starting to lose that stubborn baby belly that's still clinging to my mid-section. This kept me motivated to keep going and since summer hit I no longer have to wake up early and can do it in the evenings. Bonus!

Sunset on my way up the lane
tonight. Beautiful night for
a run!

After a month and a half I am now running consistently at least 3 times a week (while supplementing with a few of those 10-minute and Pinterest workouts on my off days) and am running over 3 miles. I still don't LOVE it but I no longer HATE it. What I do love is that I feel better and I guess if I have to run to do that, I will. And running home with a view like this ain't too shabby either.

What She's Made Of

What do you get when you have 3 consecutive rainy days and two kids who need to burn off some major energy? A trip to the ER and 7 stitches in the chin, obviously. Liv running across the kitchen with a blanket on her back + Will stepping on it = a messed up mouth and a gash in the chin.

Of course there were lots of tears initially, especially when Livi saw all of the blood that was running down her face. Brad handled himself pretty well since he gets woozy at the tiniest bit of blood. He scooped her up while I ran to get a wet cloth to hold on her chin. Luckily, Nana and Papa were here to manage the other two while Daddy and I whisked Liv away to the hospital.

So as I held her in the car she stopped crying and she asked me to sing her her favorite bedtime song. I had to try my absolute hardest to steady my voice so she couldn't see how upset I was for her. After a song, we started telling jokes and then counted by 2s, 5s, 10s, and 20s until we got to the hospital...not a single tear in the car.

When we arrived at the hospital we were ushered to a room immediately...lucky day! The nurse coaxed Livi into letting her take off the cloth and peeked at it quick. No wincing, no moaning, no tears. And same thing when the doctor came in. He didn't mention stitches out loud but we knew they were coming. He mentioned we could do it by strapping her down or not. I chose not.

All cleaned up and ready to relax!

Soon time came to sew her up. I was honest with her although I tried to avoid mention of the "s" word. She knows what stitches are so I didn't think it was good to get her all worked up. They tilted her head back and began to tug on the skin around the cut. It didn't seem to bother her so they went to work. Again we started with songs, telling stories, talking about birthday presents, and whatever else came to mind while the doctor did his work. No wincing, no moaning, no tears! Pretty good for both Livi and me :)

Seven stitches later she was sitting up eating her Popsicle and laughing about how Daddy had to go wait in the waiting room because he was such a wimp and how tough she was. I have to admit I didn't think that would go quite that easily. I was so unbelievably proud of how brave and tough she was.

It's amazing to see how your child reacts in situations like these. I remember taking Livi in last year to get her tonsils out and how bravely she walked back with the nurse, nervous I'm sure, but without a single tear. I remember putting on my own brave face as I hugged her and told her I would be there as soon as she woke up and then fell to pieces as soon as they were out of earshot. I thought she was just trying to act tough, but after today I think I have pinpointed a piece of her personality.

There are a lot of words I could use to describe Livi. Curious, precocious, enthusiastic, brave, tough, resilient... But I think the word that describes her best is stoic. She is NOT one of those kids who wears their hearts on their sleeves. (I am not saying this is bad. This is just not her.) Don't get me wrong, she can be dramatic at times. But mostly, she doesn't let people know how she's feeling. Take tonight as an example. I THINK she was feeling scared, overwhelmed, hurt, and anxious but she came off as tough and brave because she didn't want anyone to see her cry or let them know she was in pain.

I'm not saying being stoic is a stellar personality trait. Some synonyms for stoic include indifferent, resigned and passive. At certain times, I think these can all describe her. It's because of these traits I fear that she is going to have a difficult time letting people get to know her and she may hold others at a distance. I'm afraid this may affect friendships and in the future, romantic relationships.

But I found it interesting that synonyms for stoic also include enduring, tolerant, and patient which I do believe describe her well and are all great virtues to possess. These are traits that can be great to foster relationships.

So I know she's only 5 and there are so many challenges she'll face and so many ways her personality will grow and manifest itself. I just hope as she grows and discovers herself she will be able to tap into the right parts of her stoic-ness at the right times. As of tonight, I'm pretty proud of my brave, tough, stoic little girl.

Thanks to All You Mamas

I recently went to Chicago for a conference with a co-worker and 6 other women I didn't know. I have to admit I was a little nervous. I was worried I was going to be the odd man out since my co-worker and the 6 other women all work for the same school district. I was the tag along and just didn't know what kind of dynamic there would be.

Well, what do you think would bond me with a bunch of strangers? Of course our kids. By the end of the week we were sharing our parenting horror stories...peeing and pooping and puking, oh my! By the third night together we were sharing details of our labors and deliveries. When you have kids, no topic seems to be off limits...especially after complimentary cocktail hour at the hotel :)

That's the thing about becoming a mom. It bonds you deeply to friends, old and new, and in this case to complete strangers. You understand now all of the work it takes being a mom and you no longer judge that mom with the screaming child in Target. You relish in the camaraderie you have with fellow moms as you struggle to "do it all" while keeping yourself and your kids alive. You can laugh at your most embarrassing mom moments and empathize with each others' struggles. Becoming a mom forces you to get over yourself and your insecurities because your focus becomes your kids.

And with each mom I bond with, I learn a little something new. Sometimes it's simple things like using a Norwex cloth can help get dried fingernail polish out of your carpet. Sometimes it's how to discipline little boys without taking away their lively spirit. Sometimes it's just remembering how fortunate I am to have been blessed with a wonderful husband and three happy, healthy kids and a wealth of friends and co-mamas.

Thank you to all those mothers out there who have taught me a thing or two about parenting. And thanks to my own mom for being a great example of what it takes to be a wonderful mom.

Clone Me, Please

I'll be honest. I've been a little overwhelmed lately. Working full-time with a 5-year, 3-year, and 6-month old is difficult. Throw in the fact that my husband works until dusk every evening as well as every weekend and I feel like a single mom most of the time.

So when I made a trip to the dentist this past Monday with all 3 kids in tow I was feeling a little frazzled. In the waiting room Livi and Will were fighting over a game system attached to the wall (note to dentist: I appreciate you trying to appease my children while they wait for their visit but this really creates more problems than it solves). Lexi starts fussing because she is sick of sitting in her car seat. So as I am literally peeling my son off the Wii trying to get him to go back with the dentist with Lexi hanging over my other arm, I am giving myself a little pep talk about how I can get through with this visit without yelling, threatening, or bribing my children.

Then in walks a mother with her middle-school and upper-elementary aged children. I can't help but eavesdrop as she is telling her daughter how she had to fire their most recent assistant because she wasn't doing her job well enough and complaining about all of the things she had to get done. She exasperatedly says, "Oh, I just need to clone myself!"

Clone yourself? I'd give anything to have that assistant you just fired to sit with my baby in the waiting room while I try to listen to what the dentist has to say to me instead of absentmindedly nodding my head while I try to hold a binky in the baby's mouth and make sure my other two aren't going to get into a wrestling match over those stupid video games.

Breathe. And then I get mad at myself for judging this woman's woe's-me attitude when I, myself, have been feeling like that a lot lately. I don't know what her life entails and I shouldn't judge her based on a 5-minute encounter in a waiting room. I would hate to think what some people have thought of me in my most hideous parenting moments.

Yes, I have felt overwhelmed lately. It seems like I can do my job well, be a good mom, or get my house in order but all three will never coexist. But, I also know I have an absolutely wonderful support system of family and friends who will always help me whenever I ask and can commiserate with me about being pulled in all directions.

I truly do love my life. I love my job even though it can be difficult to balance with young kids at home. I love living on a farm even though that means sometimes cows and sheep come before me or the kids. And I love each of my children even though they can really push my buttons sometimes. I am going to try to get over the fact that I cannot be the best at all things. I may not be the best mom every day but I'm doing the best I can in each moment I have with my kids.

Muddy Mess

I usually despise this time of year, the tranisitional period from winter to spring when everything around here is a nightmare. Anyone who lives out in the country or on a farm can likely relate. It is a sloppy, wet, muddy mess that sucks you in. It's like quicksand...the more you fight it, the deeper you sink in.

My husband despises it even more than I do. He fights with it day in and day out pulling newly delivered calves out of it so they have a chance to survive and using his tractor to pull other machinery out of ginormous mud pits. No wonder he is extremely cranky this time of year.

So I've been complaining about it the last few weeks. Nothing like running late for work and out into mud that suck up your high heels. After changing shoes, and sometimes pants, there is usually no hope for me being on time. I have spent the last few weeks lecturing my son about walking on the sidewalk, directly to the car so we can get to daycare without having to change his clothes. But he can never resist. There is just something about the splashing of puddles and the way mud pulls at your boots that appeals to little boys.

Not only is it muddy because the ground is finally thawing but it rained pretty much nonstop all weekend long. What were little puddles tripled in size during our trip to the store so Will got out of the car when we got home, he just could not resist running to the biggest puddle and hopping right in. It was one of those moments as a mom when you have to ask yourself, is this really that big of a deal? Sure it was raining and he wasn't dressed very warmly and he was making an absolute mess out of himself but it sure did look like fun.

We had nowhere to go and he'd want to come in if he was really that cold, right? What was it going to hurt if he got a little mud on his pants and coat...and face? After watching him joyfully hop from one puddle to another and hearing him say, "Mommy, you jump into the puddle!" I decided what the heck. We had a great time splashing around and getting muddy.

But tomorrow, when I'm running late, he better be able to resist that puddle that will be calling his name.

Potty Talk

WARNING: This post is not for the faint of heart...or anyone who is embarrassed or gets queasy at the mention of poop. I counted and the word "poop" is used at least 20 times in this post. This is only for seasoned parents, those who have fought the long, hard battle of potty training.

Potty training may be my least favorite task of parenting. You're supposed to be all supportive and happy if they try to even just sit on the potty. You're supposed to clap and smile even if they pee all over the floor in front of the potty. You're supposed to grin and supportively say, "maybe next time buddy!" when they have pooped in their big boy/girl pants for the umpteenth time. But all you really want to do is shake them and say, "I know you know when you have to poop. You hide behind the chair and tell me to 'stop' when I come near you because you know you are pooping your pants. Instead of pooping in your pants and crying when I have to clean it off of you, just put the poopy in the freaking potty!!!"

Not all of potty training is terrible and difficult. Our kids have done fairly well with the potty part and we have been lucky that they have both been able to get through the night dry as soon as they started going potty. But the pooping part has been a battle that we have been fighting and it just stinks...literally.

We have tried everything to get the poopy in the potty. I had our child sit on the toilet while reading books. No poop. I made up a song, "Go poopy in the potty! That makes Mommy so happy! Go poopy in the potty! You'll get an M&M-y!" As you can imagine, that wasn't super motivating. I've bribed with candy and toys. No poop. I've tried hard not to get mad but it is so unbelievably frustrating!

We've tried sitting our child on the toilet at certain times, putting the potty chair in the favorite pooping spot (behind Daddy's recliner), and just plain leaving undies off so our child will go on the toilet. All that resulted in was yelling and screaming because our child didn't want to be on the toilet and poop piles left on the floor. My favorite was a time when I was getting the kids out of the tub. The first one out came running back in asking for a diaper. That should have clued me in that he had to go poop. I told him just to wait a second but he obviously couldn't. When I went into the living room he's standing by the toy box with a terrified look on his face while he's pooping on the floor. GRRR! And the poop piles have not even been our worst experience...read "Clean Up in Aisle 1" if you want to hear a real whopper of a poop story.

Finally, we have had success in the last couple of weeks. Knock on wood, we haven't had a poop accident lately. What has been the answer you ask? We sit the potty chair in the middle of the living room floor so our child can watch TV while he goes.

I know some of you are probably judging what kind of parent I am right now. Go ahead. I am at the point where I don't care what we have to do, I just don't want any more poopy pants. Some day our child will figure out that maybe it's not quite appropriate to poop in the potty in the living room and he'll decide to actually use the one in the bathroom. Someday, right?

So here's to pooping in the potty even though it is sitting in the middle of the living room floor in front of the TV! It's been a long road with lots of ups and downs but we are proud of you!

Happy Birthday Bucko!

By the title of this post one would think I'm talking to my 3-year-old son but "Bucko" is actually my little brother. A nickname that was so cute when he was little turned into a nickname I used to taunt him with in middle school. It has somehow morphed into Uncle Buck now that he has 4 nieces and a nephew. I'm sure he'll love me sharing. Just getting him back for some information he shared about me last night.

It's my brother's birthday soon. He is turning 30 in a couple of days so my older sister and I headed down to meet him and some of his friends for supper and drinks. After a couple of drinks, everyone started getting a little nostalgic and that's when the stories started.

I haven't laughed so hard in such a long time. My cheeks hurt by the end of the night. Stories of our escapades as kids and then as high school and college students had us all in tears laughing so hard. My brother shared stories of some of my stupid antics as an undergrad that I forbade him to ever share again, especially in front of my kids. Not that any of us did anything terrible or incredibly stupid but we did have some fun. It was so nice to remember all of the great times we had together.

Of course we see each other often for birthdays, holidays, and other random family get togethers but I can't remember the last time my sister, brother and I got together without our parents and spouses. Not that we don't love them, it's just different when it's just the three of us. For all the moments I spent hating them growing up, I sure do love them and hold tight to all of those memories we have together.

And as we have grown, gotten careers, dated, married and have had children, those opportunities to get together have unfortunately become fewer and further between. It makes me a little sad to know those times in our lives are just memories now but I look forward to seeing the bond my three kids will have and the mischief they will get into. I'm just glad we were able to have those few hours together to remember all of the mischief we got into.

So happy birthday Bucko! Cheers to 30. Let's not wait another 10 years before we get to hang out and reminisce on our youthful days.