Crooked Pigtails

Wondering why I haven't posted lately?

Would you mess with Daisy?

Sunrise, Sunset

The problem with long weekends is that Tuesdays become Mondays and Fridays become Thursdays and I become a complete fool showing up late for meetings on the wrong days. 

Labor Day. 

I want our summer back.  I want to return to the endless rolling days of sun and sleep and snuggling little girls who smell like sand and sunscreen and baby sweat and my shampoo that they use even though they have their own.  I want to hold tight to the sounds of my girls swinging in the back yard, each challenging the other to go higher, each believing they can touch the sky with their outstretched petal-pink toes.  I want to walk the beach a while longer as they run ahead carelessly weaving in and out of the waves.  I want them to come back to me and I want them to fly freely as they grow. 

Addison is in the first grade.  She's in school full days and she eats lunch in the cafeteria.  She can read and do math and almost tell time.  She plays soccer and turns somersaults.  She loves to cook and help with dusting.  Her art teacher tells us she's a natural.  She smiles constantly and keeps hoping for loose teeth.  She hates socks.  She's bouncy.  She's loud.  She's amazing.

Harper is a fifth grader, queen of elementary school.  She loves homework (for now) though she hurries through it.  She loves to help and shop.  She plays clarinet in the band and sings in the chorus.  She plays soccer and basketball.  She brings books to the beach.  She has posters of movie stars on her walls.  She's moody.  She's sensitive.  She's fantastic. 

The mornings are getting cooler.  The seasons are moving forward.  My girls are growing too quickly.  Life is very good.

 

"Hey, Mom!  Open your eyes as wide as you can like this and don't close them, don't blink them, and don't say 'ow'.  Ready?".

Man, I love that kid!

An interview with Addison--age 6

I've seen this making the rounds and thought it would be fun.

1. What is something mommy always says to you?  I love you.

2. What makes mommy happy?  Me

3. What makes mommy sad?  I don't really know.

4. How does your mommy make you laugh?  By tickling me.

5. What did your mommy like to do when she was a child?  Play with her hula hoop.

6. How old is your mommy ?  44

7. How tall is your mommy ?   I don't know.  How long are you, Mommy?

8. What is her favorite thing to watch on TV?  Judge Judy  (she means The People's Court)

9. What does your mommy do when you're not around?  Type on the computer

10. If your mommy becomes famous, what will it be for?  Typing on the computer.

11. What is your mommy really good at?   Loving me.

12. What is your mommy not very good at?  Hula hooping.

13. What does your mommy do for her job?  Takes care of me.

14. What is your mommy 's favorite food?  Clam Chowder

15. What makes you proud of your mommy?  She comes to my school and helps out.

16. If your mommy were a cartoon character, who would she be?  Candace.   (from Phineous and Ferb)

17. What do you and your mommy do together?  We love each other, and we cuddle together, and we read books.  Oh, and we do the 30 minute shred together.   And we go to the park together.

18. How are you and your mommy the same?  We both have brown hair.

19. How are you and your mommy different?  Weeelllll...my mommy has glasses and I don't.

20. How do you know your mommy loves you?  Because I love her back.

21. What does your mommy like most about your daddy?  He's cute (giggle)  No.  He's sweet.

22. Where is your mommy 's favorite place to go?  New York City

Holy Shred This Hurts

Today is officially day 8, but technically day 6 since I accidentally took the weekend off. 

What?  Don't judge me; there were birthdays to celebrate and alcohol to consume which, now that I think about it, led to much crazy, foolish, we're-not-21-anymore-but-we-don't-care, out of breath, sweating our asses off, dancing and that has to count for something.  Right?  Doesn't it?

Just in case it doesn't, I did the shred this morning as if it truly were day 8 and guess what????  Jumping from day five intensity to day eight intensity was probably a little stupid.  I nearly died.  Twice.  But, I literally kicked my own ass, and now I feel great.

I expect the cramping to begin during HIMYM.

Searching for a Shred

Sometime around Thanksgiving I was shopping with my mother and she was in one of those moods when she is determined to purchase something for every person she has ever known loved, so after much back and forth with her about things she felt I had to have even though I didn't need them at all, I finally threw Jillian Michael's 30 Day Shred into the cart and headed for the checkout* which is conveniently located next to the Starbucks counter. 

Mom paid for the DVD while I ordered us venti Pumpkin Spice lattes with whip. 

When Kristen began twittering about the Shred, I remembered that my mother bought it for me.  When she talked about shredding as a group for the month of March, I found the DVD buried in the drawer that houses all the Wii stuff.  And, when she pushed the envelope to the point of  starting a new blog  I cursed her for making me feel like such a slouch then I realized it was time to dust the thing off, remove the shrink wrap, and see just what the fuss is all about.

I'll tell you what the fuss is all about: pain.  Lots and lots of pain. 

This is only day two and every inch of me hurts, but I don't care because I am in it for the long haul (or the month of March, whichever comes first).

My beginning stats:

Code Name:   Crooked Pigtails

Tag Line:  Don't make me sit on you.

Weight:  184

Goal:  to run and play with my kids for longer periods of time

Diet plan:  move more, eat less, drink more water

Personal Rules:  drink more water, don't eat after 9:00, only two lattes per week, take the time for myself to exercise.

Shred Plan:  do the shred every day of March, start with work out One, three pound weights

_________________________________________

*I know this sentence makes me look like an ungrateful brat, but my mother and I have had conversations about this topic and we understand one another.  It's all good.

Overheard in the baby section of Target

Her:  We should have a baby.

Him:  No.

Her:  But, look at all these cute baby things.

Him:  No.

Her:  This bib says, "My Dad's the best".

Him:  Okay, maybe we should have a baby.

Dear Last Few Weeks of 2008, Bite me.

I keep coming to the computer thinking that I am going to write something, but the truth is these last few weeks have been so incredibly lousy that I simply freeze at the thought of writing about them.  I feel as though it is enough of a struggle to just get through the days; committing thoughts to words could cause complete crumble, and frankly, I don't have time to collapse.

Since my last post:

• The Good:  Harper turned nine.

• The Bad:  Our furnace freaked the hell out and deposited smoke, soot, and lethal levels of carbon monoxide throughout the house.  Lethal levels!  Try to get that phrase out of your head after hearing the fire chief say it to you.  The clean-up has been extensive and continues, but the good thing is that none of us were home, we are safe, the house didn't burn down, and the things we lost are just things.  Some were extremely sentimental things, but things just the same.

• The Horrible:  My father-in-law passed away suddenly New Years eve.  It is a little odd to say it was sudden because he had terminal cancer, but the last few days of his life were a blurr of rapid deterioration, and it was, in fact, awfully damn sudden.

I'm taking a little time to search out some perspective; hopefully, I will return soon.

For the "Questions I never expected to ask" file

Why is the dog wearing a necklace?

Eight words you never want to hear in the same sentence

 "Mom,

come

here

quick

there's

a

big

problem!"

Rarely does that end well.

************Edited to add***************************

In this case, however, the "big problem" was the cat sleeping on top of the wine rack which is on top of the refrigerator.  Oh, to have the problems of a five year old.