Come Run!

I started running almost 2 years ago. This was a big deal for me because I hated running. I hated how it made my lungs burn and my body ache. But mostly, I hated it because I wasn't any good. I wasn't fast and I couldn't go very far. Being a competitive person, this was my excuse for not doing it, for not trying.

Clearning up after my
irst race, Squaw Creek
Army Challenge, with a
great friend!

But after having 3 kids and not exercising a whole lot other than chasing them around, I figured I needed to do something that would get me back into shape. I'm not going to pretend it was easy. It really, really, REALLY sucked at first. I didn't really know what I was doing so I just went out, ran as far as I could without puking, than walked, than ran, than walked and so on. It was not fun and my body hurt...a lot. But I kept going until I was running more and walking less. Soon I was finally running 3 miles without stopping. It was slow but I was doing it.

Goal was to get in the 25's...
achieved with the help of a good
friend who kept me going!

I signed up for my first race about 4 months after I started running. I signed up with a friend to do an Army challenge. My pride was on the line and that is what kept me running. I didn't want to walk and I didn't want to be the last one out there. And now I know I didn't really need to stress about it. Nobody cared how I did. Everyone was just excited to be out there together doing something they loved.

First 10K with my sis-in-law and some
good running buddies!

I learned something very important that day. Being a runner makes you part of a wonderful community. Running brings people together. I was running with one of my best friends who could have killed it. But she stuck with me, encouraging me through the whole thing. I saw this over and over again as we ran, crawling through mud and over obstacles. Everyone was out there supporting each other no matter how "good" they were.

Half marathon with my sister
and her husband...both have
been awesome supports!

After that race, I signed up for another and then another. And with each race, although I ran my "own race," I had friends and acquiantences who kept me going, who were so supportive no matter if they were faster or slower than me. I started to discover it wasn't really how fast I ran or what place I came in (although that continues to motivate me), it was about getting out there, being positive, and being supportive of each other. I discovered it wasn't necessarily about being competetive with others but being competetive with myself, to set goals and to try to achieve them. It was about being part of a community who understands your struggles, builds you up instead of tearing you down, and pushes you to keep going and get after your goals.

My daughter's first 5K at age 7.
She finished in 39:58. So proud of her!

In every race I have run, I have experienced examples of the amazing spirit of this community of runners: The random guy who ran with me for about a mile during a 10k, cheered me on to keep up my pace and made me laugh when I was struggling; my sister who enrouaged me to sign up for my first half marathon this fall; my two running buddies who helped me train for that half even though they were not running it themselves; the girl behind me in an 8K who I heard thank every single volunteer we ran past; a friend who offered to watch my kids this afternoon just so I could go out and run.

A very hot, muggy 10K with some
awesome runners from my community.

Running has obviously changed my life. My intended outcome was to get into better shape and be a good example to my children by incoorporating exercise into my daily routine. I never expected it to affect my emotional well being as much as it has. I certainly never expected it to be something I would come to love. And I never, ever expected to feel so much love and support from fellow runners.

I am proud to be part of this community. It's a community of love, support, and encouragement. It's a community that inspires me to get out there and do my best. It's a community that humbles me by the overwhelming support they give to honor those who are no longer able to run. It's a community with a spirit you can't really understand until you become a part of it.

Come join our community. Come run!

See Ya Summer

One highlight of the summer was
coaching Livi's baseball team.

I'm going to admit right off the bat my summer wasn't at all what I had hoped and dreamed it would be. Every year as the school year winds down, I get giddy in anticipation of all the fun things I'm going to get to do with my kids. We'll go swimming and to the park and have picnics. I'll get all those little jobs done around the house I have neglected to do all school year. The house will be clean and the kids will love all the things I have planned and will be so grateful for everything we get to do and we'll never fight and life will be grand!

We had some major
accomplishments this summer...
like riding bikes with no training
wheels!

Except that's not how it went this summer. Instead of bursting with rainbows and unicorns and everything rosy, it festered with irritable kids and a short-tempered mom. Unfortunately, leftover anxiety from a stressful spring at work teaming up with kids going through some sort of "phase" left us in a crazy spiral of chaos.

Plain and simple, the kids and I were just not jiving this summer and I know they weren't the only ones to blame. I was as irritable as they were most days. I felt I was having a difficult time finding balance between work, home, and the kids' activities. Although I have a great job and get most of the summer off, I still work a few days during the months of June and July which has become increasingly difficult. In the past I have been able to be flexible to meet the needs of my clients/appointments, but as the kids have gotten a little older and involved in more activities it has become more difficult to balance a very part time work schedule with a very full time summer schedule. I felt like I just couldn't win. I wasn't bringing my A game at work or at home and I hate feeling that way.

Lexi's personality definitely
was a bright spot in our
summer. She is always
doing and saying crazy
things!

Another thing that really made summer a bit of a bummer was my daughter's behavior and anxiety. Both are not new but were for some reason heightened this summer. My daughter is a good kid, REALLY, but we just could not seem to get along. There was a lot of crying and yelling (from both of us) and I'm sure I could have handled many situations a lot better. The voices in my head compounded the problem making me doubt myself as a parent, "Am I being too tough on her? Should I be tougher on her? Shouldn't she be a little more grateful for everything we do for her? Shouldn't I be grateful she is such a good kid? Should I sweat the small stuff? Am I scarring her for life?!?!?"

Needless to say, it wasn't the best summer ever. This left me feeling a little disappointed as our summer came to an end with very little pomp and circumstance. Seriously, the weekend before school started I pretty much yelled orders at the kids because I was in such a panic about getting our house in order. I had the "I'm going back to work full time and I will NEVER be able to clean the house again, EVER!" mentality. This translated into me trying to organize our whole lives in a matter of one weekend while neglecting to do anything fun with my kids like I usually do to bid summer vacation farewell.

Lexi...our beach babe :)

So this summer may not have been the best but as I reflected this past week (now that we have all parted ways), there were some good moments as well as some moments that I will never forget...coaching Livi's baseball team, Will learning how to ride his bike without training wheels, all of the crazy things Lexi said or did. We had good times and we had bad times...and sometimes we had terrible times but we got through it all.

This summer is just another reminder that our lives will go through phases. Sometimes things are going to get tough. We're going to fight. I'm going to struggle at being a working mom. We're going to have outside stressors (financial, behavioral, time constraints) placed on our family. We just have to figure out how to get through it, learn a few things while doing it, and get on to better times.

Will...very serious about sand castles!

I did not have the perfect summer I had hoped for but life's not perfect. The important thing is I'm trying to learn from the difficult times in our lives and be grateful for everything we do have. I am grateful that I have a job with summers (mostly) off. I'm grateful I have healthy kids who are active and loving. I am grateful to have a husband who knows when I have reached the end of my rope and sends me out for a run to destress. I am grateful school has started but I am already looking forward to next summer. I know it's going to be great!

Livi...love this girl to the moon and back!

Oh yeah...and we finally were able to conclude our summer with one last hurrah at the beach this past weekend. It was a nice finale on a hot, summer day.

It's a Boy Thing...At Least I'm Hoping

Me and my boy

I come in from my run tonight as my son is jumping off the couch saying, "Mom, check this out!" He's thrusting his butt out in a bizarre pose and at first I think he's just trying to show me the super hero character plastered across his undies (and he's only in his undies because he thinks big boys wear JUST undies to bed). He has on his Captain America mask and shield and he continues to strike odd fighting-like poses while shouting things like "Kabam!"

"Wow, buddy. Are you getting all the bad guys?"

"Yeah! I'm a super hero ninja. And, look, I'm protecting my butt!"

On closer inspection, I see that he has taken a small bungee cord and has hooked one end to the front of his undies, threaded the bungee cord between his legs, and then hooked the other end to the back of his undies. I cringe at the thought of what kind of injury this could cause (injuries primarily involving scraping and/or snapping...either of which I think would be extremely painful to that area). I look at my husband who is just shaking his head and laughing. 

What does a good mom do at this point? Make him take it off? Discuss safety of bungee cords and other miscellaneous tools he likes to use around the house?  I'm not sure what a good mom would do. I, on the other hand, get my camera and take multiple pictures that I will use at some point in his life to embarrass him :)

These little incidents occur on a regular basis around here and are so far from the experiences we had raising our older daughter. As a toddler, she sat and played nicely with her toys. We never baby proofed because she never got into anything. As a preschooler she would rather spend her time reading, writing, and drawing than running around causing havoc.

He's all boy! He cannot resist
a good mud puddle.

Needless to say, our son rocked our world. He was all motor from the get go. He was army crawling shortly after 4 months, crawling by 6, and walking by 10. He was into EVERYTHING! He'd clear out kitchen cupboards and hide in them. I caught him on top of the wash machine once...not really sure how he got up there. And the worst may have been when I found him next to the toilet with one of the doll spoons. I just convinced myself that he did NOT use that spoon to drink the toilet water. We baby proofed everything but it didn't work. He quickly figured out the locks and then destroyed most of them.

Who taught this kid table
manners?

And as he started getting older he realized how hilarious potty talk is. I think his 5 favorite words are: poop, butt, buttsicles, poopsicles, and toot. At what point can I expect he learns these are probably not socially appropriate words to use with friends? Or wait, maybe men continue to use these words in their adult conversations. I guess I need to consult with my husband on that one.

My son doesn't seem to have a filter, either, and will ask or say things in public that make me want to shrivel up and die. I know he's not saying them to be mean or gross. He's just asking out of pure curiosity but when I tell him we'll talk about it later, he does not give up. He wants an explanation NOW!

I sometimes struggle with the balance between just "being a boy" and teaching him what behavior is acceptable in public and even in our home. I obviously want to teach him to be a respectful and responsible citizen but I don't want to kill his spirit in the process. After all, he is just a 4-year-old boy. Someday he'll realize girls don't think talking about "buttsicles" is all that cute.

My pefect, little gentleman :)

He did assure me yesterday that he was a gentleman because, "I said 'excuse me' after I burped." Well, that's a start, buddy, that's a start.

The Daily Grind

6:30 ~ My alarm goes off and I hit snooze as many times as I can before rolling out of bed to start my day. Shower, dress, hair, make-up all while ordering kids and husband around and detailing our daily schedule.

7:30 ~ I get into a daily spat with my husband about how we are always late for school/work and how maybe I should get out of bed when my alarm first goes off in the morning. He's right, of course, but he knows I'm not a morning person and will not get up before I ABSOLUTELY need to so we will continue to argue about this until our kids can drive, leave the house, and/or I retire. Stuff some breakfast into baggies so the kids can eat in the car and we're off on our separate ways to conquer work/school/farm.

3:30 ~ I pick up the oldest from school, stop by the grocery store to buy snacks for my son's preschool class and then pick up the younger two from daycare.

4:30 ~ We arrive home. This is where the chaos really begins. I feed snacks to quell whines of hunger and shoo them out of the kitchen to play. While cooking supper, I realize I forgot this and that at the grocery store so I improvise a little here and there and pray they'll at least try my concoction. I finish supper while breaking up 3 fights over toys/bedroom occupancy/toileting drama and putting toddler in 1 time-out for hitting me in the face.

When shooed from the kitchen
she strips off her shirt, puts on
her brother's hat and shoes and
gets stuck in the high chair
I've been meaning to get rid
of for a month.

5:30 ~ We sit down for supper and I listen to kids complain about not liking this and that. This begins my lecture about all of the starving children in the world and how grateful they should be they have food to eat. Ech! I try to recover our conversation by talking about the best parts of their day. Halfway through supper, we stop eating to pray because my 4-year-old reminds us we didn't do it when we initially sat down. Clear plates. No time for dishes now.

6:00 ~ I convince the oldest to practice piano since her lesson is tomorrow. I alternate between helping her and trying to play with our toddler to keep her content. While I'm at the piano helping the oldest, I hear crying. I yell at our toddler for pushing our 4-year-old off a chair. Then I scold the 4-year-old for letting a 19-month-old push him off a chair while somehow trying to teach him a lesson about standing up for himself. Whining about completing piano theory lesson starts so a break is taken to do homework while I give our toddler a bath. Then the 4-year-old takes his bath. Back to piano while my 4-year-old reads himself a story quietly, "You don't have to help me. You can help Liv." My heart breaks a little but I suck it up because the night's not over yet.

7:00 ~ I put our 4-year-old to bed. Did I even talk to him tonight? My heart breaks a little more. I read him a book, sing him a song and end his day the same way we always do. "I love you buddy." "I love you Mommy." "You're the best Bubba in the world." "You're the best Mommy in the world." Every night this about makes me want to cry because A) it's so sweet; and B) pretty soon he's going to realize how neglected he is and then he might not want to say that to me anymore.

7:15 ~ I come back downstairs to alternate between dishes and reapplying a diaper to my toddler's bottom every 5 minutes after she pulls it off in an attempt to sit on the potty. Squeeze in a quick workout of squats, lunges, push-ups, jumping jacks and sit ups...the girls attempt to exercise with me which always gives me a good laugh. Afterwards, we sit down to do some art and my oldest and I try to carry on a conversation while I try to prevent my toddler from digesting all of the craft materials.

8:00 ~ I put our toddler to bed and then finish up some paperwork from work while my oldest reads her book. Shower her, shower myself and then up to bed we go.

Having a picnic in the living room to
break up the monotony of a day at home.

That right there might have been the most boring thing you've read. It is our daily life give or take a few details like what the kids are fighting over and what activity we have to rush off to. It's exhausting just reading it and a little depressing. The daily grind about kills me at times. Work, homework, feeding, grooming, cleaning. It all has to get done and it consumes about every single minute of our day. And sometimes at the end of the day I feel like an absolute terrible mom. I think to myself, Did I even take any time to enjoy my kids today? 

Sometimes I feel like the answer is no but then I remember the little things; the details that get lost in our daily rituals. Like how our toddler gets so excited when the phone rings and brings it to me with anticipation waiting to hear who's calling. Or her jabbering and singing in the backseat on the car ride home...for the entire 20 minute ride. Or watching her "work out" with me and then giving up, pulling a chair under me while I do my squats and literally kicking my butt every time I do a rep.

Like how Bubba gets an idea in his head that he's going to figure something out (this week it's alternated between tying his shoes and making a Rescue Bot out of Legos) and watching him do it. Or him sitting down and "reading" a book to Lexi. And of course, always, his words to me at the end of the day.

We do try to create memorable
moments whenever we can!

And how Liv talks about her day, or her friends, or what she wants to be when she grows up. Her excitement to show me her newest, most creative project or the pride she takes in the work she's done at school. And her curiosity about new ideas discovered in books or her thoughts on how things work.

These little things are what make the daily grind bearable on some days. They are the things that I'm most fearful I will forget. We will always remember the big things like fun family trips, special creations, or holiday excitement but will we remember all of the little details that make each day somehow unique in the monotony of our daily routines? I sincerely hope so. I want to remember that in the midst of the daily grind and hustle and bustle of our lives we have created moments every day of love and fun in our house. And I hope my kids will look back and remember these moments too.

It's Okay You Don't Like Your Kids

A recent status update from a friend really struck me today. She has been having a tough time with her child and asked why parents aren't open with each other about parenting difficulties. I think it's pretty simple but not something we, as parents, want to admit. We want to put on that facade of being a perfect parent with perfect children. It's the same thing we do with marriages, or with friendships, or careers. We don't want to admit we have failures, that we struggle, that we're weak, that sometimes life is hard to manage. We want to put on a happy face and show everyone that everything is perfect, that we live fabulous lives with fabulous friends, fabulous spouses, and of course, fabulous children.

But the truth is, like with all things mentioned above, there will be good times and there will be bad times and you are not fooling anyone by pretending things are always perfect. Nothing has taught me that as much as being a parent. You cannot control your kids...period. You begin to realize no matter how hard you try to put up a perfect facade, your kids are going make it difficult to keep it together. They're going to be the ones screaming in the check-out aisle in Target trying to get you to buy them some chocolate. They're going to be the ones throwing themselves on the floor because they don't want to leave the party. They're going to be the ones who tell you you're "the meanest mommy ever!"

Several years ago I was talking on the phone with a friend who recently had a baby. I, being childless at the time, was gushing about her baby and how joyful it must be and blah, blah, blah. I couldn't believe it when she broke down and told me that although she loved her son so unbelievably much she had never known she would have the urge to pinch him in frustration. I was blown away...and very judgmental at the time.

Then I had my first child and understood what she meant. My first was very fussy for the first couple months. She had to be held, and bounced, and walked, and...basically I couldn't stop moving or she was screaming unless asleep. It was a very trying time and I had thought this must be how all babies were. One night as my husband and I collapsed in complete exhaustion after a long day of trying to console her, he said, "Now I get why some people hit their kids." Of course he would NEVER do that and he would NEVER condone it. I think what he meant was when you have a child who is needy and fussy and whiny and you are exhausted physically and emotionally, you feel like you are just going to snap and do some

Although she was tough at age 3,
she has turned into a very caring and
well behaved 6-year-old.

thing stupid. Kids can take a normal, reasonable and rational adult and turn them into someone who is filled with anger and resentment.

I've had these feelings with all of my kids at some point in their lives. My first child was a fussy baby but turned into a wonderful infant and toddler. Then she turned 3. I think that may have been one of the worst years of my life. Her tantrums were out of control and I had no idea how to deal with it...and I'm an educated professional who works with children for a living. The fact that I worked with children this age made me feel even more inadequate as a parent and a professional. How was I supposed to be advising parents when I had a child who was, nicely put, a monster? I braced myself for her preschool conference sure that her behavior was spilling out into environments beyond our home but we were informed she was "perfect" at preschool. Although I was happy she could keep it together at school it made me feel worse and that I was the focus of all her aggression and anger.

He's still a busy guy but
he has learned how to play
and participate appropriately.

My second child was a good baby but as soon as he could move he was into everything. I was constantly putting together everything he destroyed. I found him pulling everything out of cupboards, drinking water out of the toilet, and one time I found him on top of the washing machine. I'm still not sure how he got up there. Although he was not screaming and throwing himself on the ground, cleaning up after him and just keeping him safe was absolutely exhausting. After dealing with his destruction all day simple things he would do would set me off and I would literally cry over spilt milk.

And now my third is right in the midst of being extremely whiny and needy. I pick her up, she whines. I put her down, she whines. I get her a drink, she throws it on the ground. I try to play with her, she yells, "NO!" and hits me in the face. It's tough. It's hard to listen to whining ALL DAY LONG. It wears on my nerves and causes me to have outbursts not only at her but at her older siblings as well.

Don't let that smile fool you, she's
pure ornery at this moment in time.

Am I ashamed that I yell at my kids? Of course. Am I humiliated by the way they behave? Yes. Are there times when I don't like them very much? Absolutely. It's normal, though. Parenting is hard. It's the hardest thing I will ever do. Thankfully I have a partner who is here to help me and calm me down and let me take a break when I'm at the end of my rope.

And although I do not like my kids sometimes, I ALWAYS love them. I have told my husband several times I am so thankful that we were blessed to be parents to our children because I could not love anyone as much as I love them. That is the greatest gift God gives us when we becomes parents. He gives us the gift of unconditional love so no matter how hard times get and how trying our kids are, we will always love them.

So to all of those parents out there who are struggling right now, it's okay. You are not alone. It's okay you don't like your kids at this moment in time. We know you love them and do everything you can to be a good parent. Hang in there...this too shall pass.

Dear World News Now

Oh, how I've missed you. We had three brief affairs...the first lasting 10 weeks, the second 8, the third only 6 fleeting weeks. I loved your company but hated the fact that we spent so much time together. Ours was a love that could never last...

I would wake to a crying baby and there you were, keeping me awake and entertained as I nursed each of my three children. You made me laugh, you made me cry...sometimes you made it difficult for me to go back to sleep as you drew me into celebrity gossip or some bizarre story. And when you would actually have breaking news in the middle of the night, you made me feel as if you were trusting me with an exceptional secret. It would somehow validate my life in the endless continuum of nursing, dirty diapers, greasy hair and sweats covered in spit-up and other mystery stains.

You were so considerate to transition from World News Now to America This Morning subtly throughout the night as it provided a reference point as to how late (or early) I was awoken. It would help me determine if it was worth trying to get back to sleep after each feeding. And as feedings grew fewer and further between, I would start to miss you.

And then the inevitable would come. I would awake at dawn in a panic because there had been no crying at night and my local news anchors would be there to greet me instead of you. Melancholy would set in as I would know that our relationship was coming to an end. I would miss you dearly...but not as much as a full night's sleep.

But this week, we've had an unexpected rendezvous as my 18 month old was up with a fever for several hours several nights in a row. I sat in the same spot where I first fell in love with you, comforting my daughter and rocking her to sleep. And there you were comforting me, keeping me company during the wee hours of the morning. I fondly reminisced about the "old times" we had together.

I have missed you dearly, old friend. We had a great run. I know we will meet again someday...fever, flu, or insomnia will draw us together. I will smile at the memories we've shared and I will wish you the best, but I will not allow our relationship to continue. I love you but I love sleep more. So for now (and hopefully for a long, long time), I say goodbye.

The Circle of Life

I vividly remember the first time I ran over an animal. It was about a week after I got married and came to live on the farm. I was backing out of our garage to get the quad out. I hadn't even felt a thing but when I walked back into our garage Duke, our young cat, was writhing on the ground. Now, I would not call myself an animal lover by any means, but Duke was an orphan kitten we felt sorry for and ended up taking in.

Although I'm not an animal lover, I am not heartless. I felt overwhelming grief for this poor little creature and even more guilt for being the one who caused his death. He died quickly (Thank God!) and I immediately called my husband sobbing. "I killed Duke!" I choked out.

"Accidents like that happen on the farm. You're going to have to get used to it."

I was so angry at my husband for being so blase and heartless about it. When he got home from work I was still upset with him. He was a little astonished I was taking it so hard since Duke and I were friendly at best. His comment was, "I know you're upset you ran over him but he could have died another way like by climbing up into the engine of the skid loader or something." WHAT?!?! That happens?!?!

A couple of weeks later, a friend hit our puppy when pulling into the driveway. Our friend felt terrible and I was irrational. "How are we ever going to be able to have children and keep them alive if we can't even keep animals alive around here?!?!" My husband's response, "Umm, first that's crazy. And second, this is a farm. Things are born. Things die. It's the circle of life."

It took me a few years to understand his attitude. And I don't think you ever really understand it unless you live on a farm for a while. Loss of life is common on the farm, especially a farm devoted to breeding and birthing cows and sheep. I still grieve when a ewe loses a lamb after a rough night in rough weather or a litter of kittens doesn't survive the sometimes harsh realities of the farm. But you come to expect this will happen at times.

And on the other hand, raising animals allows you to experience the miracle of life. It truly is a remarkable experience to watch an animal being born on the farm. From the first glimpse of hooves, to watching the mom lick her new calf, to that calf taking its first steps, you cannot help but be humbled by the marvel of a new being coming into the world.

Snuggling up with one of the babies
born on the farm.

Even more amazing is when you have a hand in delivering a baby. When my husband and I were dating (and I was stilling trying to prove I might make a good farmwife) I donned a plastic glove up to my armpit. My husband instructed me step by step as I reached in, found some lamb hooves and helped pull a new life into the world. It's difficult to describe that giddy feeling you have at being a part of something so incredible.

I have been able to witness many births on the farm and feel fortunate my children have been able to have that experience as well. Watching a cow give birth prompted lots of questions from our children. How did the baby get in there? Do all animals have babies that way? Is that how you're going to have your baby, Mommy? Hmmm...let me think of how to answer that in an appropriate way for a 4-year-old.

My son's first time out
watching a calf being born.

Some of their questions were a little unexpected but living on the farm has actually given us a great way to have discussions about life, death, and everything in between. Subjects that aren't always the most comfortable to talk about can be discussed in a more matter of fact manner when you have real life subjects to use as comparisons.

And although it's not necessarily easy for our children to lose a beloved barn cat or a favorite spring lamb, they seem to understand and can come to terms with the fact that every animal has it's time to live, no matter how short or long that time is. I'm hoping the unique experience of living on a farm gives my children an exceptional and healthy perspective on life and death. I hope their experiences of losing animals will help them in some small way deal with the loss of a loved one when the time comes. And I hope they will realize what a wonderful gift it is to live on a farm where they get to experience the miracle of life all the time.