We've Moved!

I'm kind of hesitant to even post this, since our posting and reading have gone way down during the summer, but I'm just so excited to be in our new house! It was such a whirlwind - one Sunday we went for a drive and saw a house we thought was pretty cool. Within 3 days we had put down an offer on it, the owners accepted, and we met with a realtor about selling our house. Our house was on the market less than a week when we had an offer. Talk about the hand of God moving! This has truly been God's plan for our family. The house is not bigger, though it is nicer. We lost a little bit of yard space and outdoor storage. But the neighborhood is great. My dad never liked neighborhoods, so growing up I always lived way out in the country, away from anyone else. Our old house is in a neighborhood, but it's not exactly the kind we want our kids growing up in. It's on a busy street, next to a middle school, and it's loud. Kids walking home from school - loud. People driving by with their music thumping - loud. Motorcycles speeding down the road - loud. In our new neighborhood, we are almost in a cul-de-sac. My kids, 2 and 4, can ride their bikes in the street. Our neighbors stop to talk to us, introducing themselves and letting our kids pet their very sweet animals. The teenaged girl next door brought us a giant hunk of homemade cake. It's so quiet you can actually hear nature. Add a cast of wacky characters, and we're living in Stars Hollow! (I'm praying at least one of you is a Gilmore Girls fan.) I guess what's nice out here is that I don't feel like I'm alone in the world. We were so isolated (by choice) in our last neighborhood. I can't wait to raise my kids here!

Want to see what will ruin my summer?

Would you like to see it from a different angle?

Yes. That is my ankle. And really, the second picture doesn't do all the pretty colors justice. Last week I blew out my ankle. Would you like to know how? Or, rather, why? Because I am a big ol' klutz. That's it. I'm clumsy, so I will spend my entire summer in a brace and part of the time on crutches because I can't do plyometrics without turning my ankle the direction it was not meant to turn. The good news is: 1. It's not broken (although sometimes a break is better than a sprain, especially when it's sprained as severely as mine is), 2. I don't need surgery, and 3. School is out, which means my MIL and SIL are able to help me quite a bit. And yes, it is overkill to say this ankle sprain (4 torn ligaments! 3 month recovery!) will "ruin" my summer, but here is a list of things that will just not be the same:

1. VBS. I can't work it because I'm not terribly mobile, even with the crutches, but my kids can still attend. So I get 5 half-days to myself. Huh. Wait, that actually turned out pretty well. Okay, scratch that.

New #1. I'm going to get fat. It's inevitable. I can't do anything physical. No circuit training, no weight training, no running, no elliptical, no kickboxing. I was even considering going back to tae kwon do, but I won't be able to do anything strenuous until September, most likely. This lack of physical activity not only makes me flabbier, but it makes me cranky, too.

2. The Keys. Todd and I are going to the Keys in less than 2 weeks, by ourselves. I still won't be able to walk long distances, although I should be off the crutches by then, so there won't be any walking around Key West for shopping or people-watching. We can't go kayaking because of Todd's recent shoulder surgery (it takes a long time to recover from that) and I can't very well bike. I guess we'll be spending all of our time either in the hotel room or lying out by the pool, reading and sipping drinks with little umbrellas in them. Bummer.

3. Busch Gardens. They have a special going this summer where you can get a year's pass for kids 5 and under for free because they've opened up a new Elmo-themed preschool area. I was planning on going there a lot but I don't think I will now. Can you imagine me on one of those motorized carts trying to chase after 2 kids in a theme park?

4. Potty training. Micah really is doing great with using the toilet, especially since I started him almost a full year younger than I started Ethan. I can't remember the last time I bought diapers. But he's taking advantage of me. It's like he says in his head, "Hmmmm. Mommy's laid up on the couch with a hurt foot. I wonder what'll happen if I pee on the books."

5. Sleep. Since I'm lying around all day, I'm not expending much energy, so I'm not tired at night. My brain is probably going to turn to mashed potatoes because I'm watching more TV than usual and wasting even more time on the computer. And that's saying something.

All this has made me realize that I wasn't made for sitting around. But I'm sure, like in all things, God is trying to teach me something. Patience, maybe? Loss of control? Or maybe that my problems are small. My last post was pretty dismal and this one is just whiny. But oil is spilling out of control into the Gulf and people are losing their jobs and many in Haiti still don't have homes. I am blessed because I sit here with a brace and crutches that my insurance company (partly) paid for, insurance that I have because my husband has a good job, and my belly is full and my kids are healthy and my house is air-conditioned. Ugh. I'm tired of learning this lesson. I wish I weren't so.....human.

Only Rose is Left...

Have you ever felt like sitting on the couch all afternoon while watching a "Golden Girls" marathon and drinking yourself into a stupor? I feel like that today. I can't, however, because 1. I don't have any "Golden Girls" DVDs and it doesn't come on TV until 5, 2. I don't want to watch "Golden Girls" in front of my impressionable children, and 3. I don't drink if I'm the only adult available to take care of said children. I have the "Golden Girls" on my mind because I recently re-discovered how hilarious Betty White is and I found out today that Rue McClanahan died. That caps off our recent trio of celebrity deaths - Gary Coleman, Dennis Hopper, and now Miss Rue. The death of Rue makes me sad, although I never really liked her character on the show because she's a major whore. There are a lot of things that are making me sad lately, and mowing on Saturday and Sunday didn't even make me feel better.

You see, I love mowing. It's great exercise, I get some sun (while wearing sunscreen, of course), I get a break from my kids, it's instant gratification because I can see the fruits of my labor almost instantly, and I cut the grass in small sections, which is therapeutic for my ADD brain. The biggest reason why I love mowing, though, is because I am a brooder. When I have things on my mind, I don't particularly like to talk about them (which can make therapy a little interesting, but I digress...). I like to process. Mowing, and any other "hard work," help me to process things, especially if I'm also listening to my iPod at the same time. I sometimes feel like God is speaking to me through my iPod, to comfort me, to cheer me up, to make me sort through my emotions, however negative, and to get my mind off of the stress that is in my life.

I have 3 big things going on right now. One is good - a possible move to another house - but stressful nonetheless. One is a health concern that is most likely nothing, but I've had to wait a long time to find out. Another is the Big Ugly Situation involving my mother and a lawyer. What's funny about these situations being in my life is that these are not what are making me sad today. I am sad about freaking Rue McClanahan and the fact that Betty White probably doesn't have much time left, either. I am sad because my son has ringworm - again. I am sad because it rained all afternoon and now we can't go out to play unless I want my kids to get filthy. I am sad because I'm probably the reason why my kids are afraid to get dirty.

This is probably a normal reaction. I can't really handle the big stuff right now, especially the medical thing and the lawyer thing, so I'm focusing on the little stuff. Mowing didn't help and drinking certainly won't, so I'll just stress eat today and look forward to tomorrow, when I'll at least have an answer on my medical thing. Maybe once that's over I can stop mourning over celebrities and dreaming of drowning myself in vice.

Lazybones

We have a joke in our family. One day our cat was sleeping while the boys and I were petting her and I said, "Cameron is a lazybones!" Ethan got the giggles and now every time he wakes me up in the morning he says, "Mom, get up! You're bein' a lazybones!" It's cute, and he means nothing by it, but it kind of hits a nerve because sometimes I really feel like I'm a lazy person. However, lately I've been paying attention to my average day, and maybe I'm not so lazy. Usually my days go like this:

Todd gets me up (he's already been up with Micah for over an hour) so he can go work out. I eat breakfast, then Ethan gets up and I make him breakfast and prod him to get dressed. I get Micah dressed, make sure to get him to the potty before any accidents occur, then brush both boys' teeth. I also get myself dressed, then we head out the door to drop Ethan off at preschool. After the drop-off, Micah and I go to the Y where I work out. We go home and I "piddle" around the house - dishes, laundry, etc., stopping occasionally to take Micah to the potty and check my email and Facebook. Oh, and get him a snack and have a snack myself, if I remember. If I have time, I take a shower, then we're off to pick Ethan up. Once we get home, it's lunch insanity because I'm usually fixing 3 different meals (Micah is picky and I've encouraged it and I just don't have time today to discuss this issue). Micah then goes to bed and Ethan watches some TV or plays until I put him in front of a movie for his rest time.

This is the point in the day where I get lazy. Sometimes I move laundry along, but most days I catch up on shows on my DVR, play around on the computer, do some crossword puzzles, or fall asleep reading on the couch. There are so many things I could be doing. I could be organizing the thousands of pictures on my computer. I could be transferring old video camera tapes to my computer. I could be organizing the pile of crap that sits on our bookshelf. Sometimes I work out, if I didn't get a chance to that morning, but the truth is, I am quite selfish with this time. I don't want to do any of those things, except work out, but only because that's something I do for me, not for anyone else.

Once Micah's up from his nap, the afternoon is filled with playing, reading, going outside, breaking up fights, and cooking supper. After the boys eat an early supper we usually go to the Y for Youth Super Sports or tae kwon do or t-ball practice or Grandma's. When we get home, it's bedtime rodeo. And then I collapse on the couch again.

I don't know if it's our society or my parents or what that makes me think I have to be busy or doing something "productive" all the time. But I'm not going to feel that way anymore, dangit! I'm exhausted when bedtime comes around, and it's not because I take an hour each afternoon to rest on the couch. Today is Ethan's last day of preschool, which should give me even more time to be lazy, except that we have swimming lessons and VBS and, and, and, and...I don't think there's much time to be lazy if you're even an average mom. I also think it's okay to teach your kids to slow down and rest for a short time every day, even when you're a grown-up.

The Dreaded Virus

I live in mortal fear of a stomach virus. I'm sure this has deep-seeded psychological causes; in fact, I know it does, but I won't get into that. I break out in a cold sweat when I learn that someone I or my kids have been in contact with recently has come down with vomiting and/or diarrhea. And if one of my kids starts with tummy trouble, no matter how benign, I get really freaked out. I start rationalizing it, like last summer when Micah puked milk up all over the rug in his bedroom. "Well, he was just hot and had too much milk too fast." That time I was actually right. He slept fine and we went to the beach without incident the next day, just as we had planned. One time I threw up right after supper. I was training for one of my black belt testings, so I thought, "I'm just dehydrated." I threw up again. "Okay, well, maybe I ate something bad." No one else who had eaten anything I had was sick, though. I ended up in the emergency room with an IV after throwing up every 5 minutes for 4 hours and hallucinating. That was probably an ugly virus. At least with me, though, excepting that time Todd had to take me to the hospital, I can pretty much take care of myself and I don't create too much of a mess. Then there's the added bonus of weigh loss (the last virus lost me 6 pounds, which I have managed to keep off - woot!). With my kids, however, it's a much different story. I won't even get started on the mess. I panic because I'm afraid it's going to spread throughout our entire household, so I start manic rationalization. Yesterday Ethan pooped his pants 3 times. The first two times were barely anything, the third time I had to throw away the underwear. He was eating, though, and playing, so I thought, "It must've been something he ate." I took him over to his aunt's house like normal, where he pooped his pants two more times. Still no nausea, though, the only other symptom being a cough he's had for a few days. We recently had to start limiting his apple juice consumption because it's starting to affect his teeth, so I thought, "Well, maybe his body is just adjusting." I know, I know. It sounds stupid to me now, too. Why would lack of apple juice for almost 2 weeks give him diarrhea? He pooped some more before bed, then woke up with a Pull-Up full. He's had 3 more incidents this morning and I've finally resigned myself to it: Ethan is sick. He's home from school, he's off dairy, and he's wearing a Pull-Up so I don't have to toss out anymore undies. Seriously, though, it's not a bad virus, if that's what it is. And what's the big deal about throwing away 3 pairs of underwear and using several Clorox wipes? I don't know why I do this to myself. Part of taking care of kids is cleaning up gross stuff. That's just life. I am trying to start looking at it this way - That's my baby in there getting sick. His need for comfort is a lot more important than my gag reflex. Plus, he's kind of sweet when he's sick - he just crawls into my lap to be rocked. How's that for a "physical touch" love language? :)

This World

I love this world. I know I'm not supposed to. I'm a Christian; therefore, I'm supposed to be set apart and love the people in the world, but not the world. I'm in the world, not of it, etc., etc. I can't help it, though, I love this world. There are just so many great things to love about it.

1. Organized Sports: I've written before about my obsession with Alabama football, but I also love pro baseball, pro football, college basketball playoffs, golf, hockey, MMA, lacrosse, and even soccer sometimes.

2. TV: Lately I've been watching Seasons 1-5 of "Lost" on Netflix instant streaming and I'm completely hooked. It's such a terrific story and I can't wait to see what happens next. I stay confused, but I've hung in there because of the characters and writing. I love great writing.

3. Books: Speaking of writing, I sure do love to read. Right now I'm on a Frederick Forsyth kick. I love to read anything, though. My husband got me hooked on Kipling and I've always been a fan of Dickens. I even read nonfiction, and not just self-help books. I love the Bible the most, as I "should," but some secular stuff moves me almost as much as Scripture does.

4. Music: Music moves me, as well. I love hymns and praise music, but as I'm talking about what I love about the world, I'll tell you that I also love booty music and really loud rock and roll. I love Rimsky-Korsakov and Mozart and some old twangy country.

5. Movies: This is where I could really get in trouble. Well, here and with Ludacris, Jay-Z, and Eminem. Anyway, I love movies, especially raunchy ones like The Hangover and Superbad. I love to laugh. I also love science fiction, so I enjoy Star Wars and Star Trek and pretty much anything with good special effects. I like martial arts, so I also watch Jet Li and Jackie Chan movies.

Hopefully I'm not so wrapped up in the stuff I love about this world to also care about its people and to see the ugliness and evil all around me. Hopefully I can get out of my "Lost" fog and away from football games to show the love of God and really be in the world, but not of it.

4 Reasons Why a Four-Year-Old Is Like a Teenager

1. He eats all day, every day, and begs for more. Today Ethan ate an oatmeal bar, milk, carrots, pizza, apple juice, snack mix, strawberries, bread and butter (2 pieces, like a butter sandwich), steak, couscous, Sprite, and more milk, and he still got out of bed to say he was hungry. I don't know how I'm going to pay the food bill when he's a teenager playing sports.

2. He is increasingly moody.

3. He is defiant. Today I said, "Put your shoes on, boys, we're going to go to Wal-Mart." Ethan said, "I'm not going to!" so I sent him to time-out. He then proceeded to STICK HIS TONGUE OUT AT ME. So I sent him to his room. When he's 14 he'll probably give me the finger.

4. He cares about his clothes. When we finally were on our way to Wal-Mart to get him new underwear, he said, "Mom, I want cool underwear. Kids at school have cool underwear."

5. He has a great sense of humor. His instructor asked him to tell a joke tonight at tae kwon do. "I don't know what a joke is," Ethan replied. "Well, then, tell me something funny." "Monkeys are funny!"

I guess the good news is that I actually like teenagers. :)

Big Boy

Ladies (and gentlemen, for you hubbies out there), I no longer have any babies in my house. I've written before about how I think it's neat when my kids hit milestones and grow up, about how I didn't cry when Ethan started preschool or went from his crib to a big bed or got rid of his pacifier. And I'm here to tell you that when I said that, I was full of crap. I think the reason why none of that stuff was tough for me was because I had a baby at the time, Micah. But Micah ain't no baby no more. Tuesday we started potty training him and yesterday he only had 1 accident all day long. I can't even believe how well this is going. What I've done is pretty much stayed home and let him run around naked with the potty in the TV room. And it works! I remind him a lot, but he also goes over and pees in it all by himself. Yesterday he even pooped in it. First he pooped near it and that really bothered him, so I told him to sit and try to do it in the potty and he did. I think God is repaying me for all the trouble I had potty training Ethan. Or maybe I've just learned what not to do from how it went with Ethan. I'm really tired of doing it wrong with Ethan and getting it right with Micah. But that's a whole other blog topic. While I think it's totally awesome that Micah is peeing in the potty and sleeping in a big bed and got registered for preschool the other day, it's making me sad! His crib is still sitting out in our garage and I don't know what to do with it. What I need to do is advertise it on Craigslist and sell the thing. Or give it to someone who needs a crib but can't afford one. But there it sits in my garage because I'm too sentimental to part with it. He also got a big-boy haircut last night. It's not my sister-in-law's fault because I told her to chop it all off. It needed to be done because he keeps waking up from his nap with his head drenched in sweat. But I was not prepared for how old he would look. Check it out:

Wahhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!! Where did my baby go?

L-Dub

I think I've posted before about how when I graduated from college I wanted nothing more than to get out of Lake Wales. I did, too, for a month, before I was offered a job here I couldn't pass up. I was never able to "get out," and then I met my soon-to-be husband and the rest, as they say, is history. Now, though, I love Lake Wales, and I thought this week I'd share with you some of the things I like about this small town in central Florida.

1. Orange blossoms - Yes, they make me sneeze, but they smell heavenly. I especially love driving around in 75-degree sunny weather in February and March with the windows down, smelling these gorgeous flowers.

2. Sandhill cranes - I regularly see them feeding in my yard, which delights my boys to no end.

3. Oranges on the road - I love to try to run them over. They make a fabulous "squish."

4. Plant City strawberries

5. the Lake Wales Art Show

6. Fat Boy's Barbecue - no ambiance, iffy service, but the food is cheap and the sweet tea can't be beat!

7. Circle of Friends - A ministry in our town for mentally handicapped citizens. I am amazed that this organization exists and thrives in such a small town.

8. The Care Center

9. MOPS - We have a very accepting group here, which, I have learned, isn't true everywhere.

10. Bok Tower Gardens

Any more I've forgotten?

Of Privacy and Nakedness

I knew it was time to start demanding privacy when using the bathroom or showering when Ethan started asking, "Mom, where's your penis?" Of course, I had to get another opinion, so I asked my friends at the playpark one day, "How old are kids when they need to stop seeing you naked?" "Three," was the unison response, so I've really been trying to keep it under wraps, especially with Ethan. It's hard, though, being the only girl. The other 3 people in my house can and enjoy running around naked (what is it with males and nudity???), but I have to beg for privacy. The other day I was sitting on the toilet with the door closed and Ethan walked in. My response? "DUDE! Privacy! Please!" Now I have to be careful of second base, too, though. The other day Ethan walked in while I was putting my bra on and said, "Mom, what are those?" I'm attempting nonchalance because I don't want my kids to think the human body is a dirty thing and I believe in using the "real" terms, so I said, "They're called breasts. Ladies have them." "I have those!" "No, you don't. You have nipples, but you don't have breasts." "Mom, what are nickels?" Oy. Fortunately, the conversation ended there. Unfortunately, I think I'm going to have to start being modest in front of Micah, too. He's potty training (using that term very loosely) by sitting, unlike Ethan, who used a child-sized urinal, so I'm constantly telling him to "push your penis down" so he doesn't hose down the bathroom. The other day he and I were home alone so I left the bathroom door open and he came in. "You goes poots?" "No, just pee." "You pee the potty?" "Yep." "Push it down!" OY.

Long Day

I've had a long and hard day, and the majority of it was spent without my children. Does anyone else feel like their children are an anchor for them? I know that sounds kind of scary, like I'm too dependent on them, but that's not what I mean. I just feel kind of untethered without them, especially if I'm having a hard time. I spent today doing something unpleasant, expensive, and, as it turns out, pointless, and I missed time with my kids doing it. A couple of months after my dad died it was my birthday and I went to Vero with some friends to go kayaking for the day to celebrate. I had fun, but I felt funny without my kids. I felt untethered, unanchored, like I was going to fly away like a popped balloon. When I got home to them I felt safer and more grounded. Maybe that's what it is - my kids force me to be responsible and "with-it," so when I'm with them I'm more grounded. It just seems strange, is all. I remember when I was 11 and my great-grandfather died. When my parents and I got to the funeral, my grandmother was there and she hugged me and cried and it seemed as if it was such a relief to her that I was there. I remember thinking, "How weird. She needs me? I'm only 11!" But now I get it. When I got home today my kids were at Fat Boy's with the extended family and I didn't feel at home until they were. Does anyone else feel this way? Or am I crazy? Wait...don't answer that.

Discipline

Yesterday my baby turned 2, which means he's not a baby anymore. It's like a switch flipped in his brain and he decided to definitely be 2, if you know what I mean. I'm not going to use that phrase people use to describe 2-year-olds, as they're not terrible, merely challenging. Honestly, it's fun to see them grow and learn and do new things. For instance, yesterday I caught Micah in his room, climbing onto a stool so as to get to his birthday presents, which were up on Ethan's dresser. Then he pulled a chair over to the microwave in the kitchen and turned it on. Awesome.

One thing that's not fun about kids growing up is discipline. Yes, when they were infants I had to get up with them all through the night and change their diaper explosions and get hosed with spit-up, but now they have opinions. Attitudes. Yesterday when I picked Ethan up from school, his teacher did not have her usual smile on. Turns out, when another teacher asked him to scoot over in the pick-up line, he said, "No!" and smacked his fists on his knees. He also whined about the snack and refused to participate in music class. I was really ticked about him being disrespectful to the teacher, though. That I just will not tolerate. So when we got home I sat him down on the couch and explained that we do not talk to teachers (or anyone, for that matter) that way and that because he chose to be rude, he was not allowed to watch TV for the rest of the day. This was big-time punishment. Ethan's "naps" consist of him watching a movie in the guest bedroom. Yesterday, however, he had to make do without visual stimulation. At one point he came to me, chin all aquiver, and said softly, "Mom, I like watching stuff in Lori's room." (That's what he calls the guest bedroom, after my friend Lori, who is pretty much the only one who ever visits and stays in that room.) It just about broke my heart, but I didn't cave. I didn't cave later when Micah woke up and wanted to watch a video. I told Ethan he had to stay out of the den. Then, during Micah's birthday party, when he dragged Aunt Terri into the den to watch an episode of "The Backyardigans," I told Ethan he couldn't watch, that it was time for him to get a bath and go to bed. I felt like a jerk all day long. But it was worth it. This morning he apologized to the teacher he was rude to and seemed genuinely contrite. His attitude today has been excellent and he had a great day at school. I'm sure this isn't the last time we get a bad report from school or have to ban him from the TV all day, but I'd much rather deal with this now than when he's a teenager.

Liz is a Big Ol' Quitter

For a few weeks I've been mulling over whether or not I should continue to take tae kwon do classes. I've been doing it for 8 1/2 years now and it's become a part of my life and a part of who I am. Rather, it used to be. I'm still a black belt (I always will be) even if I don't take classes because that's more of a mentality than anything else. I still plan to put Ethan back in tkd once his leg is all healed up and Micah will start, too, when he's 3, because I believe martial arts teaches very important life skills that will benefit my children. But it's just not working for me right now. The classes are usually right in the middle of the supper/bath/bed melee at my house, or they start at 7:30, when the kids are finally in bed and the kitchen is clean and I can sit on the couch and watch TV with my husband. That time is hard to give up. Plus, it's $80/month and I've been to class like 3 times in the last 6 months. That's just not fiscally responsible. So, this week I quit. I froze my contract with the school and emailed my instructors. I hate having quit something, especially something that was such an integral part of my life for so long. However, this morning at MOPS our Mentor Mom was talking about the sacrifices we make for our families and I guess this is something that I'm sacrificing. Unlike sleep, (TMI alert) a regular sex life, and the freedom to go somewhere without shlepping 2 kids and all their stuff around, though, is it really a sacrifice if I don't miss it very much? I guess it's more like having a career, a house that is not covered in toys, and meals without crying - I used to really enjoy those things, and it would be cool if I had them again someday, but they're not all that important to me anymore.

Sloooooowwwwww Down

I am a major klutz, always have been. One time I was walking on the sidewalk in college and I tripped over a leaf. A leaf - I kid you not. Another time I broke my toe during a tae kwon do class because I accidentally kicked the wall. It's nearly constant - knock this over, stub this toe, bump into that wall, spill this, oh and wait - let me tell you about my husband's truck. He was out of town for a week for work and he took my car to the airport so I had his truck. I was backing out of our driveway, on my way to take the boys to their grandma's, and I got too close to the gate and scraped all the way down the side of the truck. Then, the very next day, I was pulling into the driveway and scraped the truck again, only on the other side. It was a mess. Both back side panels had to be replaced, painted, new bumper, etc. My husband was a good sport about it, but I felt like an idiot. Lately this klutzy stuff has been really getting to me. I have a lot of stress in my life. I am dealing with a very ugly family situation and I have 2 small children - enough said. I think I am also having a bit of a faith crisis because I (*cringe*) have been blaming God for my klutziness. He made me, after all. He could keep me from constantly hurting myself and breaking stuff. Usually when something like that happens, I say very bad words in my head. I knew I needed to stop doing that, though, so one day I stubbed my toe and it hurt and I just took a breath and tried not to curse. And I promise you, God said to me, "Slow. Down." I realized that the reason I am such a klutz is that I rush. I'm constantly rushing around, hurrying to do this, running to do that. I really don't have a lot to do. I don't have many deadlines. But I race through chores and meals and books like a chicken with my head cut off. So now when I do something klutzy, such as knock the olive oil over onto the stove, I tell myself, "Slow down." And last night, when I had spent an hour driving around town to get my husband's pain medication for the shoulder surgery he had yesterday morning and then to Beef's where I waited 30 minutes for our food and then into the driveway with the truck, scraping the side of it on the gate AGAIN, I put my head down on the steering wheel and, instead of cursing God, I simply told myself to slow down. After all, as the wise Lily Tomlin says, "For fast-acting relief, try slowing down."

Middle Aged

Stuff that Makes Me Feel Old:

holding books, crosswords, etc., far away from my eyes so I can read them

cold weather vs. my knees

trying to open jars, which I now cannot do without one of those rubber gripper thingys

the stiffness in my left hip I've felt ever since I started cardio kickboxing

Rachel making fun of me for wearing an Aeropostale hoodie

staying up too late - I think I'm still recovering from staying up to watch the National Championship last week

pop music - What is all this crap on the radio? And who are these people?

MTV

excessive moisturizing of my neck so that I don't get turkey neck like my mother and grandmother

peeing a little when I sneeze or cough

my 3-year-old beating me at every Wii game he attempts

Stuff That Makes Me Feel Young:

football

beer

drinking beer while watching football

exercise, especially shooting hoops

playing trains with Ethan

the fact that I have yet to find a gray hair

loud rock music, especially if I'm in the car alone rockin' out

Looney Tunes

Facebook

making my 17-year-old nephew laugh because we have the same sense of humor

How about you? Feel old? Feel young? Share!

Happy National Championship Day!

I know most of you aren't into football, but that's okay. In honor of the national college football championship game tonight, I'm going to attempt to explain to you why it is so important to me and why I'm such a crazed fan.
I was born in Alabama and I lived there for much of my early childhood. There's not a lot going for Alabama. There are no professional sports teams of any sort, poverty is rampant, unemployment is high, too many people smoke and/or are overweight, and the state has a sordid past relating to the civil rights movement. But I love Alabama. It's where my family is from and I have many happy memories of living there and then visiting my Nanny, my grandmother, my favorite person in the whole wide world, after we moved to Florida. I will admit that the state and the people can be backward, but some of the best people I've known have come from Alabama and I am proud of my heritage.
What does this have to do with football? Well, since there's not a lot going for Alabama, people who live there have to cling to what makes them great, and one of those things is college football. The University of Alabama has one of the most storied football programs in the country. One of the most prolific college football coaches, Bear Bryant, coached at Alabama and led them to six national championships. Amazingly, Bryant was one of the first college coaches to recruit and play black players. That's really saying something, considering where he coached and who was governor at the time (George Wallace). Alabama football gives the people of Alabama something to be proud of. When you add in the rivalry between Alabama and Auburn, which is really heated, football is a big deal in this particular state.
It's also a big deal in my household. It was in my home growing up - some of my earliest memories are of both my dad and mom yelling at the TV for some player to "Run!" or "Make a tackle!" I was raised to be an Alabama fan and to hate Auburn and Tennessee and Penn State and Notre Dame and to have a disdain for any team outside the SEC. My husband became a hard-core Alabama fan shortly after we married. I have enough Alabama t-shirts to wear one every day of the week (although I try not to do that) and I've read everything ever published about Bear Bryant. It's not just a hobby for me, it's an obsession.
This season has been magical. We are undefeated. We beat everyone in our conference, including Auburn and Tennessee, our biggest rivals, then we beat undefeated Florida to win the SEC championship. Honestly, though, it's been heartbreaking to be a Bama fan for a long time. We last won a National Championship in '93 and since then it's been a long line of failing coaches and NCAA rule violation scandals. Finally in 2007 we got a new coach, Nick Saban (called "Satan" by some of his naysayers), and it's been uphill ever since. Last season was promising, but we lost the SEC championship to Florida and then lost the Sugar Bowl to Utah. This season went much the same way, except we were able to pummel Florida to win the SEC and we got our first Heisman Trophy winner - Mark Ingram. Tonight we are playing Texas for the national championship. I will stay up as late as the game goes and I will probably cry actual tears if they lose. This is saying a lot, since I can't remember the last time I cried over anything.
I probably have only succeeded in making myself sound like a lunatic and confirmed for those of you who don't like football that you've made the right choice. That's okay because I'm not trying to convert anyone. But football is one of my favorite things and I'm just so thrilled that for me, it's still going on. For many people, their seasons ended at the end of November or with a disappointing loss in a no-name bowl game. But I get to cheer my team on with hundreds of thousands of other fans across the country. It's been a long time coming, but it was worth the wait!

I'm not really into New Year's, so this post will be about Christmas.

Honestly, this year Christmas made me think a lot about...well, Christmas and what it's really all about. I posted the clip from A Charlie Brown Christmas a few weeks ago where Linus is quoting Luke 2 and telling Charlie Brown that Christmas is about the birth of Jesus. I know this, but what I'm wondering is why do I make it about so much more?
I really don't do a lot for Christmas. I bought presents for 6 people - Todd, Ethan, Micah, my 2 SILs and my MIL. I got some gift cards for the lady who cleans our house and the babysitter we pay and our pastors, but that's it. Pam was wondering how I get by with only buying for 6 people. Well, first of all, Todd's siblings and I draw names, so that's 2 right there. We always buy for his mom because she's his mom and of course we're going to buy for each other and our kids. I'm an only child, my father is dead, and my mother and I are estranged. It's not such a happy story when it comes to my side of the family. So when people say Christmas is about being with your family, well, that kind of makes me feel like crap. I have to make sure I focus on my "real" family - Todd, Ethan, and Micah, and Todd's family, because they make me feel like I've always been a part of them.
I decorate, but not heavily. I don't bake (except 1 batch of no-bake cookies for MOPS) and the only cooking I did was a quiche for breakfast Christmas morning and a pecan pie for dessert that night. So Christmas is not about goodies and big dinners and parties and it sure ain't about snow and cold weather, because I live in Central Florida.
And has anyone ever noticed how many people get sick around Christmas? That kind of puts a damper on the whole "Most Wonderful Time of the Year" idea. Micah woke up Christmas morning with a fever of 101. And did I mention Ethan has a broken leg?
I enjoyed watching the boys open their gifts and I'm not going to lie, I enjoyed opening my own presents. But the shopping, the few days I went to stores and didn't do it online, the shopping made me feel kind of hollow inside. I don't want to just be a consumer!
We watched Christmas specials with our kids, Charlie Brown and The Grinch (we do not like The Grinch) and Dora and Rudolph and The Backyardigans and I think even the Wonder Pets had a Christmas special and it was all, "Christmas is about giving," and "Christmas is about Santa," and "Christmas is about helping others," and while those are all noble ideas, even the Santa one, I wanted to scream at the TV, "No, it's not! Christmas is about Jesus!"
I don't want to be a crazy religious person, giving up the tree because it was a pagan symbol and Santa because he's not real and the gifts because we have so much stuff we have nowhere to put it and there are people in the world who don't even have clean water. I don't want to be like that, really. I see the value in all those things. But I want something MORE out of Christmas. Or maybe, maybe what I want is less. Maybe all I want is to see the Christ child. So maybe I should, on the cusp of this New Year, make a (ugh, I can hardly say it) "resolution" to focus on Him every day, and not wait until Christmas to "make it all about Him." That's a lot of pressure for 1 day. And I need Him more than 1 day out of the year. Trust me, I need Him A LOT.

These Kids Today!

I remember talking to a friend at church shortly after Ethan was born. She has three sons and at that time the youngest was almost 2. I said to her, "I figure I can start getting some sleep in about 2 years." Her response was, "Yeah, just keep telling yourself that." I am here to say that Janann, you were right! Of course, by the time Ethan was 2, I had a newborn. That newborn is now nearly 2 and I'm still not sleeping! Part of the reason is because last Friday I had the brilliant idea to take the boys to the playpark. 5 minutes after we got there, Micah fell and busted his lip open on the steps. I comforted him and eventually Rachel came with her son and Micah was okay after that. Until he wanted to go back up the steps, then he got scared and I had to comfort him. Meanwhile, Ethan went down the slide into a huge puddle and as it was chilly and windy outside, Rachel and I were discussing which one of us would go home to get him new pants while I held Micah. Then we heard a crash and I know I heard a crack and Ethan was on the ground, clutching his leg and crying. I handed Micah to Rachel and ran over to see what was going on with Ethan. I couldn't see anything on his leg - no bruise, no swelling. But he couldn't stand up and he shrieked every time I touched or moved his leg. Finally I called Todd, who raced down Lakeshore going 75 mph and we ended up taking him to the doctor, who sent us for x-rays, which determined Ethan's tibia is fractured. I am not even kidding - my three-year-old broke his freaking leg. Apparently he was reaching for the fireman's pole at the park and missed. Our pediatrician put on a temporary cast that reached from toes to mid-thigh. It was a long weekend. Tuesday we went to an ortho who recommended a walking cast that goes below his knee. He can't walk on it yet, but hopefully he will in a few days. Yesterday he was scooting around in the playroom with his buddy, playing with trains. Oh, and did I mention that the weekend before this mess Micah had an ear infection? Poor kid had a fever, cough, runny nose, hurting ears, and he was throwing up. Last night his temperature spiked again, but today he's okay. I may never sleep again. I am thankful for my kids, though. I am thankful for their health, that the worst things they've had to deal with are broken bones and ear infections. I may not get a good night's rest until they're teenagers (wait...that will be an altogether different stress!), but hey, at least it's not boring! Oh, and maybe my pediatrician can finally get that Porsche he's been eying. :)

During this season of giving, I want to challenge you to give in even one more way - give your blood. 37% of Americans are eligible to give blood, but only 5% choose to do so. It's a very easy, mostly painless way to literally save another person's life and 1 pint of blood can help up to 3 different people.
I know, I know - you're squeamish. You don't like needles, you don't like hospitals, you don't like blood. But seriously, moms, don't we come in contact with a lot of stuff on a regular basis that makes us squeamish but we deal with it anyway? I am a major sissy when it comes to bodily fluids, and I can give blood.
It's totally safe. They only use the needles and other equipment once, so there's no chance of infection. You undergo a short medical screening to make sure donating blood won't be hazardous to your health. People who work at blood banks are usually phlebotomists who stick people all the time, so they are gentle and complications are rare. The worst complication is most likely fainting and that can usually be prevented by eating regular meals before you donate and hanging out for a few minutes after you give to get your sea legs back.
This is what will happen if you give blood: You'll answer some questions, fill out some paperwork, have your temperature, pulse rate, and blood pressure checked. The phlebotomist will prick your finger and put a drop of your blood in a solution to see if it sinks quickly - if it does, you're not anemic and can give. If it floats (which usually happens to me), she'll put it in a centrifuge and then check it. Then, once you've been cleared, you'll sit in a reclining chair and the donation will begin. (I'm not going to go into great detail because of those of you who really are squeamish.) I'm not going to lie - it hurts to have a needle stuck in your arm. But it's temporary and not that bad. After a few minutes, she takes out the needle and holds pressure on your arm, then bandages it up. You drink a Coke, eat some cookies, get a free t-shirt, and go home. You might feel a little woozy, so keep activity light for the rest of the day and make sure you eat a good supper. I like to eat steak or another red meat to help replenish the iron I lost. Speaking of replenishing, your body starts to replenish your blood supply immediately. All fluids are replaced within 24 hours and red blood cells are back within 56 days. I've found that the more often I give (every 8 weeks - the limit), the less tired I feel afterward.
There's another reason why I give. My dad was religious about donating blood. His blood type was O-, which means he could give to anyone. He even had some special thing in his blood that allowed him to donate to fetuses. He gave gallons and gallons of blood throughout his life. So not only do I get a free Coke and t-shirt, I get to help people and honor my dad's memory.
This is my challenge to you this Christmas - give. Give money, give food, give toys, give clothes, and give away a part of yourself, a part you don't even really need - give a pint of blood. You never know when you might need someone else to give a pint to you.

Swine Flu

This is probably a very sensitive subject, but I've decided to start a discussion about it here anyway. I am really not worried about swine flu (or H1N1, if you want to be PC for pigs), as it doesn't seem to be any worse than the regular flu and I try not to get swayed by media hype, but I got my kids inoculated against it anyway. In fact, I called and called the pediatrician's office for weeks to see if they had yet received any vaccinations. My kids got colds over the weekend and Ethan had goopy eyes, so I had to take him in and luckily, they didn't have fevers and were able to get the H1N1 vax. The next night, I took them to tae kwon do for Ethan's class and I was talking to a guy I know there and mentioned the pinkeye and the flu mist my kids received. "You got your kids the swine flu vaccination?" he asked, appalled. "Yeah," I said testily. "1976 - same thing happened - lots of people got Guillaine-Barre syndrome from it and DIED," he responded. Now, first of all, I don't like it when people question the decisions I make for my children. I am an educated person and I researched the new swine flu vaccine as well as the one for seasonal flu and I also trust my pediatrician. However, I was scared. I came home and read all I could on the subject. And here are some things I learned:
1. Yes, it seems that some people have developed Guillaine-Barre syndrome from flu vaccines. It's rare and although no cases have (yet) been linked to the H1N1 vax, it has been linked to the shot from 1976 and the seasonal flu vaccine. Do you know what else causes Guillaine-Barre, though? The flu. Mono. Surgery. AIDS. Most commonly, it's food poisoning. And sometimes they have no idea what causes it. These "causes" are merely educated guesses by doctors.
2. The flu mist that my children received doesn't have any preservatives in it. I don't believe that thimerosal in vaccines causes autism or anything else, for that matter, but even so, it's not in the flu mist. And there's so little in the injection that you're more likely to get mercury poisoning from eating fish than from a vaccine.
3. This was the most interesting to me: When we are bombarded with facts and opinions about an issue, our brains aren't wired to make logical decisions about risk vs. benefit. We have definitely been bombarded with this swine flu stuff and a lot of us (myself included) are panicky about whether or not we should "subject" our kids to such a "risky" vaccine. But what about other health risks? If you suspected you had appendicitis, you'd go to the hospital, right? You wouldn't worry about the too-high rates of post-operative infection or medical errors. You'd have that sucker cut out of you before it burst and killed you, because you understand that the benefit outweighs the risk. Same with seat belts. People have been killed by seat belts in car accidents. However, you'd just be outright stupid if you didn't put one on every time you get in a vehicle, because you know more people have been saved by seat belts and, again, the benefit outweighs the risk.
Let's face it: life is risky. And my philosophy is, don't worry about stuff, but protect yourself and your kids the best you can. For me and my family, that means vaccines. I read an article in a health magazine years ago that listed the 10 best things to do for your health. #1 was childhood immunizations. #1! It beat out exercise, eating a lot of vegetables, giving blood, and whatever else was on that list. So I don't see the need to have a "chicken pox party" when my kids can get a simple shot and avoid that illness (and, possibly, shingles later) altogether.
My friend at tae kwon do has his own views about the H1N1 vaccine. He's a smart guy, he's done his research, and he's decided it's not the best thing for his family. I can respect that. My point is not to blast anyone who doesn't get their kids the swine flu vax because, honestly, it's probably not that big of a deal and it's none of my business. My point is this: research it. Read reputable sources. Base decisions on facts and what you think is best for your family, not what politicians or conspiracy theorists or homeopathic medicine vendors or windbags on the internet (myself included) say.