Say what?

I was at spinning class the other morning.   After a self imposed several month hiatus from spinning (and the whole gym thing in general) I returned this past week to find the Golden Girls are still there.  And I'm convinced they are trying to sabotage my training.

In the middle of the class (this is an important point because it's at this stage that my legs are starting to feel like noodles) the instructor apparently decides to motivate us.  Here's what she does:

"Come on people!  Whew!  That's it.  Keep those legs going.  Don't stop!  Easy circles, now!  Whew!  Lookin' good!  Don't slow down!  Whew! Move those legs!  Imagine that you have poo on your foot and you're trying to scrape it off.  Move those feet!  Faster....keep moving....the poo is stuck!  It's stuck on your shoe!  You're trying to scrape it....it's on there good!  Scrape harder people!  You don't want poo on your foot!  It's fresh poo.  It stinks.  Bad!  And it's all over those shoes.  Keep scraping!  Whew!"  On and on it went.  For the entire six minutes of the song.

Are you freakin' kidding me?

The first time she said it I thought...did she just say poo?  Nah....but then, yes!  No kidding. 

I looked over at the Girls and I swear they were laughing at me.  Because I was so distracted by all the poo talk that I could barely peddle.  I just sat there...stationary.... with this look of confusion on my face. So they were beating me.  And they thought it was funny.

Then it hit me.  They put the instructor up to it.  I'm sure they did.

Saboteurs.

Does This Look LIke a Jerk To You?

So this morning I was getting everyone's breakfast in front of them and I put a banana on Stuart's tray, which he immediately tossed onto the floor. "No!" Mmmkay. Let's try juice. I set his juice down. It quickly followed the banana to the floor.

So I picked up the banana and the juice, set it on the table and decided to do my best to ignore the foul, offensive little person in the highchair.

Catherine walked by, saw Stuart's juice on the table and handed it to him. "Here you go Sewart," she said as she put it on the tray. "NO!!!" he yelled as he catapulted it once again to the floor.

"Catherine, that was nice of you but he's being a jerk. Leave him alone."

A jerk? Did I just call my 21-month-old a jerk? Surely she wasn't paying any attention.

About that time William walked in the room, saw the juice on the floor, picked it up and, as he was handing it to his brother, Catherine grabbed his arm and said, "No, Weeyum, don't... Sewart is being a JERK!"

Nice, Mom. Real nice.

I mean, really.

Going Green....Literally

Originally I thought this post would be about my five favorite things like my sister girlfriend (a fellow Mommy, Esq.) did on her blog.  Then I thought about thanking the Academy (or in this case my cousin) for my recent award and then passing it all forward (which I will soon....).  

But instead I wanted to tell you about my new thing just in case you run into me and I look a pale shade of celery.  See, one of my truly favorite possessions is my Vita-mix.  We went to one of those home and garden shows about 7-8 years ago where they were doing demonstrations.  You know, where they show you how incredible it is that this fancy blender can pulverize a 2x4 in less than 10 seconds, just in case you're ever in the mood for a speedy wood shake.  But seriously, I stood there in amazement watching them make soups, juice raw foods, freeze ice cream, and (the thing that sold me) make peanut butter from....just peanuts.    It was SO cool.  And even though my first semester of law school plus books cost less than this thing, somehow I managed to convince Andy to let me buy it.

I promise it was one of the best things we ever bought.  And the Vita Mix people are NOT paying me to talk about this (although I wouldn't be insulted).

When our babies came along, I started making my own baby food.  Anything we ate, so did they.  I just pulverized it.  I mean....have you ever read the ingredients in a jar of babyfood?  Shouldn't bananas contain only ONE ingredient...say, BANANAS?  There certainly shouldn't be ingredients in a jar of bananas that I can't even pronounce.  So I just did it myself.  Because I thought I did it better than they did.  And my babies loved it.  

But lately I've been reading a LOT about these green smoothies.  You can get your entire serving of fruit and veggies in one drink.  And they have all these antioxidants to go to war against all the garbage we put in our bodies.  It's a good thing.  So the other morning I made up a batch and took it to Andy.  I wouldn't tell him what was in it until he drank it.  So he did.  And he said it wasn't bad.  And I smiled because he usually picks around the cucumbers in his salad but he drank one that morning!  And never knew it.  Until now.

But I'm a little concerned because he told me the story of someone he knew once who drank so many juiced oranges and carrots that they turned orange. 

Things that make you go hmmmmm.

I think a subtle shade of mint wouldn't be so bad....

Does this guilt make my butt look big?

When I left the law firm a few years ago, I did it mainly because I felt so guilty about all the time I spent at work compared to the minute amount of time I was spending with my...then... one child.  I wore that guilt suit around on a daily basis and it became nearly unbearable when I was in the middle of a trial...in the middle of the holidays....and I went a full week only seeing him from over the top of his crib in the middle of the night.  I knew I had to make a change ~ and I did, although I eased into staying at home slowly, still going into the office daily but only for a few hours.  

When Catherine came along, her health necessitated me being home full time.  And full time it was.  I found myself suddenly with a toddler and a newborn with a bad lung who couldn't be exposed to sickness.   Remember that movie about the bubble boy?  That was us.  The bubble family.  For the better part of a year we didn't go anywhere.  ANYwhere, people.   I was like Nell when I finally got out of the house...screaming in an indecipherable language and running around in circles flailing my arms.  At least I had on clothes.  Talk about going from one extreme to the other.

Then came Stu.  I was actually working on getting things in place to go back to work when I suddenly craved hot dogs and fell asleep at the wheel at 2pm one afternoon running to Target and realized that I was pregnant.  I didn't even need a pregnancy test to tell me that.   Shock and awe, that was.   So I made the decision to just stay at home a little longer because...I mean let's face it....would you have wanted me working for you?   What do you think were the chances I'd ever even make it out of the door in the morning?  And I didn't see my firm agreeing to me working between the hours of 1 and 1:45 in the afternoon.

So I wouldn't give anything for the years I had at home with my babies.  I joke and jest and probably embellish a lot on here in the name of creativity, but I truly loved being at home.  But the flip side of that was the fact that I felt...and here's that word again... guilty for not working and using my education and hard earned skills.   So when the opportunity came along a few months ago to return to work in a much more flexible and less stressful capacity, I jumped on it.   Because I was afraid to let that boat sail.  So I jumped back into the world of working mommyhood.  

Only now I find myself peering over at three sleeping babies instead of just one.  But only sometimes.  Thankfully.

I do have it good.  I know I do.  And trust me, I am more than thankful to even have a job in today's world.  I could quickly make you a list a mile long of all the pros of working.  But sometimes in that deep dark place inside I wonder if a mile long pro list outweighs the one con...

missing them.

So here I am feeling guilty once again.  But I realized the other day that when I was home full time I felt guilty.  Not only about not working, but I'd get to the end of the day and feel guilty because they watched too much TV....because I yelled at them....or they only ate goldfish for every meal....or I let someone get away with something....or punished someone too severely....or because I should have read to them more....or...or....or.... and on it went.

So I'm thinking that as Moms maybe we need to accept the fact that once you give birth, that cloak of guilt will just become part of your wardrobe.

Maybe I should learn to accessorize.  With grace.  And mercy.

Mamma Mia!

Andy went hunting last weekend and no sooner returned home than he "asked" me that he was going again tomorrow.  I know that's not a grammatically correct sentence but since questions involving things like hunting, fishing and golfing are generally framed as statements, it's the only way I knew how to put it in prose.  These "conversations" usually go something like this (and usually occur less than 24 hours in advance of said event):

Him:  "Oh...hey....I might have "forgot" to mention it to you but I'm going hunting/golfing/fishing/to the Auburn game/to the Grand Canyon/________ tomorrow/tonight/in five minutes.  Hope that's ok."

Me: "!^&@* *&$@! ^&*!  !^&*@*!  !&*#&*(@ !!!!!!!!!!"

Except this time he added, "And to help you out, I'll take William with me."

Yes.  That will be a HUGE help.  Take the only one who can (in theory but not usually in practice) wipe his own hiney and who can also (in theory) help me wipe someone else's hiney.   

So, alas, Andy will be taking my firstborn on his first hunting expedition tomorrow.  I don't know how long he thinks a five year old will stay quiet in a tree stand.  My guess is 4.2 seconds but Andy's a pretty good shot so maybe he'll hit his target quickly.  

To celebrate New Year's before he leaves, as a surprise I rented Mamma Mia for us to watch together tonight.    He's going to be sooooooo excited.   I have a bottle of champagne too.  Not sure which he dislikes more.   Bubbly or Dancing Queen.   He can detox in the woods tomorrow.

Happy New Year, y'all!    

~"you can dance, you can ji-ive, having the time of your life....ooh, ooh, ooh, see that girl, watch that scene, dig in the dancin' queen....." ~

Dear Santa, I want some Loritab and a nice big bottle of Crown Royal. Thanks.

So yesterday I get a phone call from my dear husband and I could tell he was a little bit not himself.  Come to find out, he cut his hand open, is bleeding profusely and is trying to get to the emergency room.

This was more than a little alarming to hear him even mention the ER because this is the same man who practically cut his finger completely off his hand a while back and, as the finger is dangling with blood shooting across the room and bone exposed he calmly asked me to run get one of William's spiderman band-aids.  Of course I couldn't hear him because I was in an unconscious heap in the floor. 

He called me an hour or so later and said he had 5 stitches in his hand and was on his way to the liquor store to pick a little something up in case he started hurting later.  But he also had a prescription for a pain killer.  

I hope he wakes up in time for Christmas.

I may be taping a note on the bicycle boxes that says something like, "Dear kids....Santa was too tired to put these together.  Instructions are in the box.  Good luck.  Love, Santa."

But now that I think about it, the bikes won't even make it out of the attic.  Maybe I'll just draw an arrow on the note pointing up.  I'm sure they'll get over it....  one day.

Awww Foot

Thought I'd share a few of the happier scenes from the season....the kids' Christmas program, breakfast with Santa (and no there was NO WAY I was taking that "paaa" out of his mouth), baking goodies, roasting smores over the fire and singing Christmas carols 'round the tree holding hands.  No pictures of the snacks, smores and songfest?  Hmmm, musta gotten lost somewhere.

I've really tried to make some fun Christmas memories this year but Christmas is HERE.  And I'm not ready!  I need more time!  

 

My Granny used to say "aww foot" whenever she was over it.  Whatever it was.  And as for the busy-ness and madness that has taken over what should be a peaceful, restful season spending time with those you love most?  I say the same thing.

Granny had another great saying too ~ "I'm gonna whip your little hiney if you don't shape up!"  I use that one often too.  That's another post though....

I think tonight I'm going to finish wrapping gifts and decide that if it's not bought, baked or done after tonight, it's going in the "to be continued next year" file.

Can I get an amen?