Vote for Troy

My talented brother-in-law Troy has taken some of my favorite photos of my kids. He is a finalist in an online photo contest using this photo of Johnny. Vote for his photo here!

tinkling the ivories

I do not play the piano, much to my own chagrin. I have always desperately wished I did. I was always a little jealous of the kids who complained about the lessons. I have always sworn that my poor children would be forced to play for their own good and that someday I would learn just because it will make me happy. I love the sound and timbre of a piano. It has always made my heart feel warm and comfy. I have been half-heartedly keeping my eyes open for a piano that I would love that wouldn't break the budget, I am a beginner after all. Trolling around on Craigs' List last week I found what I was looking for, an antique piano in need of a little TLC for a ridiculously low price. I took one of my piano-playing friends to check it out. I fell in love immediately. I love the scroll work, the old fashioned sensibility, the history of this 100-year-old piano. It's a little out of tune but that is easily remedied, it could really use a new finish which might be a little trickier but I love it. I know Ty thinks I am hilarious for loving a piano he refers to as "a little shabby" it's just that every time I look at it I only see what it will be and it will be spectacular, someday. And today it will be the instrument on which I finally fulfill a lifelong dream which is pretty magical all by itself.

*Special thanks to George, Jake and Eric who helped Tymon move possibly the heaviest piano ever made, we owe you guys big time.

just a number

I have always been really happy with my legs. They are relatively long and not overly fat or dimply. Today I wore the kind of shoe that makes any leg look a million miles long. I saw my own reflection in a window and I didn't hate it, I even kind of liked it. I have some friends who, I think, are a little worried about me. I have been really obsessed lately with the number on the scale. They say, "But you look great..." I actually feel pretty great but I'm not all the way there yet. It's not that I want to fit into anyones image of beauty or health, I just want to be my own best self and I am not there yet. I don't actually care what I weigh when I get there, I just know what it looks like, in the mirror, sans clothes. The number is just something to focus on while I try to do whatever it takes to get me to that happy (healthy) shape. I don't buy the idea that because I have had children my body can never be what I want it to be again. I might just have to work harder to get there. It might take a little more time than I would like. And so I obsess about a meaningless number to make me feel like I have a little more control. Maybe it would be better if I didn't care what I looked like, but I don't think so. I think it's vital that I take the very best care of my body that I can so that I can teach my children to do the same. It's one of the greatest gifts God has given me and I don't want to take it for granted. Plus, it would be a pity to let great legs like mine go to waste.

suzy homemaker

So, I have this friend. For purposes of this post we will call her "Megan". Last week Megan had a woman stop by to give her an estimate on bi-monthly cleanings. The estimate came back ridiculously high and Megan felt the whole thing was silly because she already did most of the things the woman offered to do on a regular basis. You know things like cleaning the slats of the blinds with soap and water, scrubbing the baseboards, oiling the woodwork. While it's not that I never do these things, I do, just not near as often as I should. Megan's house is always sparkly and shiny, Megan bakes sweet breads about once a week, Megan cooks lovely meals almost every night. Megan's children are adorable and well-behaved. Megan works out every day and always looks put together. Plus-she is super pleasant and I really like her. How, Megan, how are you getting all these things done and done well? HOW?!

sons of the father

I don't need any more children. I don't know if I will have any more but I am absolutely, perfectly content with my two little boys. Yesterday afternoon Johnny smilingly brought me the hinge off the back door in three pieces. I nodded sagely and put them back together. You see, Tommy had done the exact same thing at about this age. I spent about two months reassembling hinges in our Madison house, now it's like second nature. My beloved mother-in-law recalls similar incidents at her house about 32 years ago. This morning my husband walked outside to find an armadillo in the front yard, he immediately rushed to take a picture for the boys to see. (unfortunately it's kind of blurry and bigfoot-ish) He spent his lunch hour looking up better pictures on the Internet and talking about armadillos in our sunny kitchen. They ate it up. Tommy followed me around quoting made up facts about aardvarks for ten minutes. Tommy told me how the satellite station near our house that looks like an oversize golf ball is for when giants play golf and that only giants are taller than Daddy. He insists his hair be "mohawked" every day for school. He also insists that I make his brother's hair "crazy". Johnny, when being pursued for a diaper change, will wait until I reach him, drop to his knees, crawl between my legs and away at full speed, giggling hysterically. He toddled (video soon) around my house yesterday nursing an apple, he worked on it for close to two hours. They wrestle, they shout, they giggle, they snuggle, they whine, they climb, they take-apart, but never put back-together, they whisper only when completely inappropriate, they sing their own words to hymns. They are three-of-a-kind. These boys are all that I need in this world. or the next.

say "pepperoni"!-part 2

New photos of the boys here -Sara is fabulous!

rambling race report

I think you should all know how much I adore you. I think about you all the time. Especially during long runs when I have lots of time. I plan out my posts to you and think of all the important things I want to tell you. Often several miles go by that I don't even notice because I am so wrapped up in thinking about you. I had no idea how much I value you until yesterday. Yesterday I ran my first half-marathon race. I was really nervous. So nervous that I couldn't distract myself-even by thinking of you. The night before I should have gone to sleep early so that I would be fresh and well-rested. Instead I spent the evening lying in bed with butterflies playing rugby in my stomach. In the morning I barely made it to the start in time because I was almost there when I realized that I had forgotten my number and had to run home and get it. I had initially signed up for the half in hopes that is would feel relatively easy compared to my longer training runs and would give me confidence for the marathon. Wrong. It was harder to run long distance under race conditions. It's really intimidating to have my time count, it's harder to maintain my own pace when I am surrounded by other runners when I'm not used even to a partner and my hip is still giving me fits. It took me 2:25. I am not thrilled with this time which is hilarious because it's not like I've ever done this before. It's just that I was hoping to run the marathon in about 4 1/2 hours and at that pace I am going to be a bit longer than that. I did notice later in the day that I was running a fever, maybe that slowed me down? Ty tried to bring the kids down to meet me at the finish line. Unfortunately he somehow mixed up the address and instead spent an hour and a half driving around looking for it, thus no photos. It was a lovely run regardless, we ran along the Arkansas (here pronounced are-Kansas instead of like the state, no one knows why) and the weather was perfect. I was feeling drained at the end but recovered quickly after the finish so obviously wasn't as close to dying as I thought. It's finished and the marathon is feeling really soon, in response I am feeling really panicky-it'll be fine, right?

party

arachnaphobia

Yesterday was Tommy's fourth birthday. His party isn't until this weekend but we had cake and presents with our little family. His beloved cousin Reese sent him a very life-like remote control spider. His mother, my sister-in-law Regi called me to warn me about this gift. She sent my brother-in-law Dylan and Reese to the store and this was what they came home with, they were very excited. I wasn't particularly concerned, after all, I am the mom of boys. When the gift was finally opened Tommy was very excited and all was well until we installed the batteries and tried to demonstrate the remote control. The minute that spider started moving Johnny had a full blown panic attack and began crawling full speed in the other direction, Tommy burst into tears of terror soon thereafter. We continued to try throughout the day and neither boy would have anything to do with that spider. Johnny would burst into tears upon sight of the thing and Tommy was ok, as long as we didn't turn it on and make it move. If we did, he went screaming into another room. After many tries and slow desensitizing, we finally got Tommy to try driving the spider himself for the first time this evening. Now that he is over that hurdle, he can't wait to show all of his friends. Poor Johnny still finds it utterly terrifying and is not even allowed in the same room.

say "pepperoni"!

See some new pics of our family here.

faker

Dear friends,
When you see me in the next few days and you (being supportive) ask me about my long run this weekend (19 miles!) and I nonchalantly reply that it was great, do not believe me. This is hard, really hard. Every long run gets a little worse and a little better. It's two steps forward and one step back. For example, this evening's run. First of all I was feeling a little hormonal today and and kept putting off the inevitable so I didn't even get started until about 6:30 pm. For the first eight miles or so that makes for a lovely run, especially tonight. I watched the sun set through the storm clouds and ran under the evening rainbow, nice, right? The problem is, then it gets dark. I don't mind running in the dark with the exception of three things, first the City of Wichita is not so great with sidewalks. There are four miles spread out along my long run route during which I must run in the road. There is ,of course, no shoulder. Three of the four miles are later in the run and thus tonight, in the dark. Scary. Second, the City of Wichita does not maintain the sidewalks they have which would not be such a big deal if it weren't for the third thing. The complete lack of streetlights in any useful place. These things mean that when I am a slug and put my run off until it is dark I spend a lot of time trying not to get hit by cars or fall into holes. This evening during mile 13 I completely tripped over an uneven sidewalk I could not see on this moonless evening and fell all the way down. I have awesome scrapes all over to prove it. Next- can anyone tell me why energy bars have to be so flipping hard to chew that they actually cause cramps in my jaw, The one I ate during mile 14 caused more pain in my jaw than the cramps in my calves at the end of the run. I don't need anymore pain than I am already causing myself, thank you very much. By the time I get to mile 16 it takes all I have to keep putting one foot in front of the other in the prescribed rhythm. There is, however, not much that feels better than 1/4 mile I walk after I finish all 19 miles so that my poor muscles don't seize up and refuse to ever work again. Just don't let me fool you, this is one of the hardest things I have ever done and I am not at all confident that I can actually do it. My only chance is to fake it until I make it, so thanks for playing along.

feeling a little soggy

Today at our house we got almost four inches of rain. Four. Inches. Of rain. So, all of you who live in the droughty west come on over, and bring your buckets because we have plenty to share.

raindrops in my eyelashes

Today's Schedule:
(all times are approximate)
6:47- Wake up coughing, still not recovered from stupid sinus infection

6:53- Tommy comes in and requests dinner, I wrap up in my favorite blanket and pad to the kitchen to get his cereal and juice

7:00-Check blogs and goof around on the internet instead of facing day and getting dressed

7:23-Get Johnny up and take his temperature (100.4), he will not eat but will drink chocolate milk
7:35-Get dressed, put on make-up, running out of mascara, kids watching Noggin, feel guilty

8:10- Get baby dressed

8:12- Change baby's shirt (vomit)

8:17- Get Tommy dressed (while playing "wrestle")

8:31- Look for Tommy's shoes

8:46- Eat a bowl of cereal in dirty kitchen, no time for dishes

8:51- Strap baby in car

8:54- Retrieve Tommy from puddle jumping

8:56-Pull out of driveway

9:03- Arrive at Dr.s office (9:00 am appointment)

9:20-See Dr., Johnny still has raging ear infection after 8 days on super antibiotic, bad, referred to specialist, today.

10:13-Stop at Walgreen's for 3 things, spend $50 on who knows what

10:45-More chocolate milk for baby, must take early nap because specialist appointment is during nap time

10:59- Change icky diaper, put baby in bed

11:03-Change baby's shirt (vomit)

11:10- Start movie for Tommy, stupid Xbox takes three tries to work, feel guilty

11:21- Decide to work on horrifically large sewing project for Christmas, have taken this project on in spite of complete lack of skill and experience, will end well. Find sewing surprisingly soothing, chat with Mom while working. Results mixed.

12:36- Tommy declares lack of hunger

1:16-Wake-up baby, more chocolate milk, new shirt, Tommy still not hungry

1:28- Arrive at Specialist's office (1:30 appointment)
Wait forever in really boring waiting room, all grouchy grown-ups and no toys, Tommy chatters non-stop to anyone and everyone, only nurses respond. Tommy cannot remember about his inside voice, getting a headache

2:31-See Specialist, Johnny needs tubes, probably isn't hearing well due to infection, fabulous.

2:37-Back to same waiting room to wait for scheduling lady to schedule surgery-losing it now

3:05-Schedule surgery-next Tuesday morning

3:12- Stop at Sonic to self-medicate with a diet coke and get a grilled cheese for Tommy , who is now famished

3:27- Rush home, playgroup is meeting at our house in 3 minutes

3:33-5:15- Several people call and suffice it to say no one comes to playgroup but nothing important gets done except the dishes and a little blogging

5:45- Start dinner-lost track of time

6:15- Feed kids and self

6:22-Husband is home, feed him

6:37- Baths

6:48- Sit on upstairs couch with husband feeling like slug while children strive to achieve a water level of 1.5 inches on the bathroom floor

7:01- Get Johnny ready for bed, slippery with lotion, he escapes my grasp several times but is very cute while doing so

7:12- Johnny to bed (30 minutes late)

7:16- Attempt to lotion and pajama Tommy while playing "tackle", is tricky, but lovable

7:41- Read stories and pray

7:53- Tommy in bed (23 minutes late)

7:54- Change into running clothes and gulp down half of a Gatorade

8:02- Run six miles, in the dark, blinking raindrops out of my eyelashes, grinning like a fool, the whole time

8:59- Home, decide to blog (again) before doing dishes because it's more fun

9:41- Ready to post, and do dishes, again

that's so juvenile

As I was doing the breakfast dishes this afternoon (yes, you read that right, this afternoon) I noticed the remains of my husbands breakfast in his bowl. My wonderful, 32-year-old husband puts chocolate milk on his Life cereal. No wonder he totally gets my kids.

my brother's keeper

Today while I was fixing Tommy's lunch I turned around to see Tommy snitching grapes off his brother's high chair tray. I said, " Are you eating your brother's food?" He looked at me with dinner plate eyes and replied, "No, Mommy, we're sharing."

cake

the goods old days-part 2

Remember before you had kids, when you would get really sick, you would get to stay home and sleep. When you lost your voice you spent the day being quiet and no one had a bad morning requiring lots of parenting and thus talking because it's really hard to sound stern and serious when speaking in a croaking whisper. Remember how, when you got sick, the only person in the house who was whining excessively was you. And it didn't matter that it was the first day of school and there was mandatory parent meeting at 9 or that the child care arrangements you had made for the baby weren't going to work out or that you hadn't yet ordered the cake for tomorrow's birthday party. Nothing mattered because you were sick so you had to stay home and rest. Yeah, me too. Sigh.

it makes me smile

Yesterday I bought new shoes. I hear you all saying, "Big deal, we all know you have a bit of a shoe problem." These, however were not just any shoes, these were new running shoes. I have officially worn out my first pair of running shoes. I put 440 miles on them before they gave up the ghost. I feel really good about that. I took much of last week off from running so when I finally went again on Tuesday it had been several days. People who drove by me that evening must have thought that I was an escaped mental patient because I could not wipe the huge grin off my face for the entire six miles, and this was with a little knee and hip pain because my shoes were in their final throws. I really love running. I deeply regret that I did not give it a real shot earlier in my life because it makes me super happy. Years ago I saw a woman wearing a t-shirt that said,"I love to run, it makes me smile, I think I'll go another mile." I remember it because at the time it seemed absolutely preposterous to me. I totally get it now, I wonder if I can find that shirt on ebay? (note- the above photo is representative of the state my shoes are in, not my actual shoes)

the good old days

Remember, before you had kids, when someone would throw-up, how you would be all grossed out and it was a really big deal. And then some custodian or something would clean it up while you left the room delicately holding your nose? Yeah, me too. That was really great.