Hurricane Christmas

Last night, we had the pleasure of touring one of our local fire stations with my son's Cub Scout den. Very cute, the boys had a lot of fun counting hoses and checking out the "secret compartments" that the fire trucks and engines house. The moms had fun googling at the cute fire man that demonstrated his fire suit for us. It was pretty win/win.

After that adventure, we headed out to our local tree dealer. This is the latest we have ever brought home a tree. Usually we have it in and decorated by December 1st. This year? Slacker central. Anyway, we found our tree fairly quickly and brought it home. My husband proceeded to move an end table, dog bed, and chair out of their spots to put the tree in it's traditional location. Where are those three items now? Well, I put the dog bed in a good spot, but I currently have an end table and chair chillin in the middle of the living room along with the clippings of the tree that my son insisted we bring home. It's like a hurricane hit in there!

On top of everything else I have to finish today/before the weekend/before Christmas.....guess they'll go in the spare bedroom dungeon of discarded furniture and unwanted items, also known as the office. Gah! I'll tackle that disaster in 2012. =o)

Cavewoman

A few months ago, I spent some time with a friend of mine who had recently converted to a vegan lifestyle. Naturally, being that I give everyone a chance to speak their case, I listened to her talking to me about the wonderfulness of a lifestyle that consumes basically nothing that is an animal by-product. I did some research and some reading and some more research and thought, "hey, why don't we try this?" So I talked my husband into letting me introduce a few meals a week that were vegan (or vegetarian). He agreed to do this, but asking a meat-and-potatoes kinda guy to have a meal with no meat in it is like asking a lion to turn down the gazelle and eat some grass instead. It. Ain't. Happenin. Needless to say, that lasted only a few weeks. Listening to him complain and cry about the meatless meals just wasn't worth it. Plus, he would just turn around and buy himself CRAP food that made him happy after eating a meal that left him feeling unsatisfied and ultimately unhappy.

We went about our lives. Then I stumbled across this hilarious woman blogger at www.nomnompaleo.com. I was searching for a recipe and she had it on her page. After clickety clicking through several links, I realized that she follows the paleo diet. In a nutshell, the paleo diet is one in which an individual cuts out grains, legumes, and sugar from their diet. The diet mimics that of the paleolithic era, prior to the introduction of the use of grains for dietary consumption. It's not as dramatic as the Atkins or Zone diets, nor is it as dramatic as a gluten free diet, but it does sort of throw a person into a reduced-carb, reduced-gluten world. I figured I would try it out because obviously the eat-everything-I-want diet is not working for either of us. This also works very well for my hubby since he LOVES meat and also vegetables. We are loving following this diet. Our kids still eat breads and cheeses and stuff at breakfast and lunchtime but we have pretty much cut all of those types of foods out of our daily dinners and my husband and I have been following the diet during the daytime as well. He has lost 5 pounds so far and he hasn't worked out at all! (Disclaimer- I totally don't condone the lack of exercise, I only use that to emphasize how well this is working for us even in its' absence.) I have lost two pounds myself.

See, I'm not a nutritionist or anything but I feel like there isn't one dietary plan that will work for everyone. Each person needs to find something that will work for them. A vegan lifestyle can be pushed and pushed and pushed on you, but if you don't really buy into it, it's not going to work for you. In my husband's case, he just couldn't wrap his head around a life without meat, milk, or cheese. It would never have worked for him because he didn't believe in it. Partly because he wouldn't give it a chance and partly because his body was telling him it wasn't the right route for him. This paleo diet is something he whole-heartedly believes in. He is willing to give up the sugars and the grains for it, even though he is bread-junkie. And his body is responding well to it. I'm looking forward to seeing more results as we move forward and start hitting the gym full force!!!!

PS-Keep your eyes out for a review of the book, Run Like a Girl, which I have read and re-read its so good!! I'll be posting that later this week.

Yakkity yak

Well, as sure you have noticed I have pretty much completely lost my motivation to run. Since February I have gained 14 lbs. FOURTEEN! Im almost back to where I was when this journey began almost two years ago. I feel worse than I felt even at my heaviest and it is weighing heavily on my heart and soul. The good news is that I think I have snapped out of it. I ran twice last week, both around 2 miles. Starting up slowly so that I don't hurt myself, kind of trying to ease my way into it.

It is so strange. You are losing weight and doing great and it is so motivating that you can't help but be totally on track. And then something happens. Maybe it's a weekend out of town or injury or illness, but something happens to throw you off kilter. And you feel discouraged and unmotivated. And then you start gaining weight and you become less and less motivated to move or eat right or anything. Why is that?

Whatever the reason, I'm so over it. I'm done with squeezing into my jeans that I just bought six months ago. I'm done with feeling completely self-conscious with everything I wear. Im ready to move forward and get back on track.

Eight years

Yesterday was my eight-year wedding anniversary. The day started off like any other day, I hollered at my husband from the kitchen while he snored his way through the alarm....I kissed him goodbye and headed back to bed. I ran around during the day, doing the usual routine- laundry, groceries, emails for Cub Scouts, phone calls, kid stuff, homework. Jacob offered to make dinner, so I didn't worry too much about that. We have this silly semi-tradition stemming from a mishap on Valentine's Day 2000 when I wound up serving us grilled cheese and pb&j and soup in my bedroom on an end table. =o) So he offered to make grilled cheese and soup for the family for dinner. After I sent our son to a time out after several meltdowns, my husband arrived home from work with -surprise!- roses behind his back. He very rarely gets me flowers, and even less of the time, they are roses. He really likes daisies and lilies, stuff that is a little less cliche-y. And then surprise again, he brought home some coffee ice cream! YUM! We had dinner as a family and I cleaned up from dinner while he got the kids ready for bed. Then we settled in for the most terrible chocolate mousse I have ever tasted followed by some much better ice cream and watched Red Riding Hood.

It's funny to think how different life was eight years ago. Even five years ago things were drastically different. Eight years ago we could get up and go at our pleasure. We didn't have bedtime, naptime, any kind of routine other than going to work every day. We only had to contend with our own moods and grumpiness. We were concerned only with our own hygiene and well-being. Who cared if our house was messy or if we ate dinner at ten o'clock at night? We were young and unconcerned.

I also spent some time yesterday reading, "Run Like A Girl". I am so in love with this book!! I have my highlighter and flags out and find something worth marking on almost every page. It is completely inspiring and has brought to light so many things that I didn't realize. I'm about halfway through it and can't wait to let you guys know all the wonderful things I've learned and come to realize about myself as a result of this book!

Missing person's report aka Freak.Out.Central.

Yesterday I experienced the worst afternoon of my life. Isaiah typically gets off of the bus at 2:45 pm. Since this year he's in the second grade, I've given him a little teensy bit more freedom. Instead of going to wait for him at the bus stop, I go out to the end of our driveway and wait for him. I can see the bus go through the corner (we are the second house in) and then I can see him cross the streets to get to the house. No big deal, right? It makes him feel good, and I can still see him from the second he passes the back of the bus. Except yesterday the bus drove off and my kid was not on the sidewalk.

"OK, calm down, he's probably at school still. Maybe he had to go to the bathroom or something and he missed the bus. Let's call the school."

The school tells me that they will page him and hopefully he will turn up at the office but they give me the number to transportation and they can make some calls to see if he maybe got on the wrong bus. I knew this was highly unlikely because he has the same bus driver and bus number as last year. But I called anyway, just to be on the safe side. No answer. Great. Call the school back. "Nope he hasn't come. Let me call his teacher. Maybe she saw where he went." Shit. This isn't making me feel any better. So I call the cops to see if they can maybe send a car over to the school to see if he's wandering around. In the back of my head I'm hoping that he didn't think he could walk home. It's almost a four mile walk along some pretty heavily trafficked but not fantastically sidewalked streets.

I file the missing persons report, crying the whole time. How tall is he, how much does he weigh, what clothes is he wearing....all questions that I never ever wanted to answer while talking to a police officer. About fifteen minutes later my house phone rang. To my surprise, it was our friend and Den Leader's wife, Mandy. To my relief, she lets me know that Isaiah turned up on her doorstep. He was trying to walk home and realized that he didn't know the way. When he realized he was lost, he saw a trail that they had traveled on during a Scout meeting and he remembered how to get their house. So he went there.

FREAKING OUT. He was unaccounted for for a total of only about 45 minutes, but it was the most terrifying 45 minutes of my life thus far. My police officer friend tells me I did a good thing by filing the report as quickly as I did because if the unthinkable actually were happening, minutes are critical. Thank goodness it was just my kid making a bad decision and nothing worse happened. I'm also very thankful that under the pressure of being lost, he was able to keep his head and figure out a solution instead of continuing to wander around. SO. I woke up this morning with my eyes almost swollen shut from crying for hours yesterday afternoon. But I have my son, grounded FOREVER, safe and sound at home with us.

On a lighter note, I received my copy of "Run Like a Girl: How Strong Women Make Happy Lives" in the mail on Wednesday. I made it about twenty pages in to the book prior to disaster striking yesterday afternoon....but I love what I've read so far and can't wait to get back to y'all with my review. I just know you're all on pins and needles.

Also coming up soon, a big change in my family........stay tuned boys and girls!

Enjoy your holiday weekend!!!!!!!!!!

The green-eyed monster

Hmmm....my track record is not looking so fantastical. Last blog? Oooohhhh...over a month ago. That tells you roughly how many miles I have ran since then. Yep, big fat goose egg. Truth be told, I thought I could handle running with my kid on a bike in front of me and I was wrong. The stress of being with him, watching double time as he crossed driveways and almost went over the edge of the curb was more than I could handle. Not to mention that it was hot and I felt so terrible looking at him at the end of a run and he had sweat trickling down his face from under his helmet. Oh well. I have my sights set on a different half marathon this year, the Paul Reese Memorial Run in Clarksburg. It's the week before my birthday which gives me approximately ten weeks to train for it. Perfect.

In other non-running related news, my brother-in-law is getting married this weekend. The past year has gone by super fast and not without it's share of drama. There have been a few disagreements over the things that they have opted to do and admittedly some catty behavior on my part. In the end though, these past few weeks I've realized that I have just been displaying one of my least favorable traits. I am an incredibly envious person. And instead of dealing with the envy and moving on, I hold on to it for dear life and dwell on it until it builds into this festering chip on my shoulder. Really not pretty. So for the past few weeks I've been working really hard to overcome this envy that I have for this woman, this wedding, this entire situation. And yesterday I came clean to her and told her how I felt and apologized for any hard feelings that may have resulted. It's difficult to keep focusing on the beauty of a situation when you are constantly dwelling over how you wish you had that opportunity. It's difficult to not focus on the fact that every situation is different. It's difficult to say, they've waited ten years longer than you did to get married, of course their wedding is going to be a little more (okay, a lot more) elaborate than yours. I have always had a hard time dealing with envy. This girl just seems to have it all...the college degree and career, the crafty creativity, the relationship with her family...and I had a hard time coming to grips with the fact that that's a GOOD thing for my brother-in-law to have in his life. After talking with her for several hours yesterday I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders and I feel so liberated! Like I can finally be truly happy for them, because I am, but it was always overshadowed by that stupid green-eyed monster.

ALSO, I am looking forward to receiving and reviewing a copy of a new book within the next few weeks. Keep your eye out for my review!

On getting a grip

Since high school graduation eleven years ago, I have changed quite a bit. But then again, there are some things that haven't changed. I'd like to say that I still have a pretty sunny disposition and I really like to see the good in people and give them the benefit of the doubt. Back then, when I graduated, I had some serious body image issues that I still struggle with. Back then, however, I had no reason to be worried or ashamed of the way I looked. I was super hot! (Relatively speaking of course.) I had a teeny tiny 24 inch waist, teeny tiny boobies (boo), and sported nicely curved hips. Since that time I have gained about forty pounds (as of last year it was almost 60 gained, so yay me for dropping that number!) and popped out two children. My skin, clearly not genetically enhanced by Mr.Fantastic or Stretch Armstrong, did not gracefully handle the amount of stretching that occurred during the weight gain or the two pregnancies.

Last year I bought myself a tankini to help resolve the issue of the belly button and stretch marks. Really I can handle the stretch marks. The thing that kills me is this imploded crater that is permanently stuck in the middle of my gut. Well, this year when I put on the tankini I was shocked to discover that the dang thing is *drumroll please* TOO BIG! OK, so now what? I put on this bikini that I bought a few years ago and only wore when we had a backyard pool of our own. Of course it fit, but then I'm stuck with the problem of the belly button. I can't possibly show it to anyone. What would they think?

After wrestling with my own brain for two freakin weeks I came to the conclusion that:
1.If it weren't for the offensive belly button, I would be totally ok with showing off my tummy. EFF the stretch marks, I've got two kids!
2. I'm proud of the progress that I've made and my midsection is really not too shabby.
3. I need to GET OVER IT and realize that no amount of working out or sit ups is going to get rid of it. So.

I wore the bikini. TWICE. First at the lake with a group of friends. This was an all day process. First I had the bikini on under my tank top, then the tank top got folded up while I was sitting in the sun and pulled back down when anyone came near me, then I said screw it and took the tank top off and then I said oh screw it again and the shorts came off. The second time was at a Fourth of July barbecue with family and friends. And you know what? I was okay. Nobody ran screaming. Nobody pointed and laughed. (Thank goodness.)

I'm taking what I've been given and dealing with it. And it feels great.