The terrific twos

So we are officially in the terrific twos. This is my happy place that I am going to imagine when things are going less than terrific. He is in his big boy bed, free to escape at a moment's notice. And he does. We are in that training phase of trying to get him to sleep in his bed, all night like normal people, and then wake at 7:00 am, like normal people. Some days are better than others. Last night wasn't too bad. He went to bed at 8ish. Woke up at 9ish and came out all geared up and goofy. I'm not sure what happened there. I put him to bed again and he says. "Good night Mommy, bye." I'm not sure why I think that is so cute. "Bye," I tell him back. This morning he awoke at 6:15 sharp. I should be happier with that, but I'm hanging on to the fairy tale. Dream big, right? He laid in bed next to us for about a half hour, holding his breath and then exhaling in a big burst. Why do kids do that? I remember my girls doing that. There is nothing sweeter than the idea of a warm, snuggly child cuddled up in my cozy, incredibly soft bed. They don't breath like the ocean waves rhythmically coming into and out of shore. It is a quiet inhale, an awkward silent holding phase, and then a noisy outburst of air. So not part of my fairy tale. He sits up and I pray that he is heading for one of his sister's rooms. When I do eventually arise, I make it to my coffee maker that is unfortunately sitting cold and idle. Brandon peeks up from the couch, taking a momentary break from Miss Spider's Sunnypatch Friends, and asks, "Good sleep, Mommy?" "Yes Brandon," I smile, "I did have a good sleep." He seems so satisfied with this interaction that he now is asking everyone if they have had a good sleep.

This is a little reminder that we really create these little ones by how we interact with them, day in and day out, the good and the ugly. Apparently, I haven't ruined this one yet.

The results are in...

I can't believe how fast time is going by. The kids are already scheduling their first quarter parent/teacher conferences. That means two birthdays and Halloween are just around the corner. Which also means that Thanksgiving and Christmas are right around the corner.

Gasp!

Let's pretend I didn't just say that last comment.

Okay, back to my results. I had undertaken a new fitness goal beginning Aug. 1st. I measured myself, borrowed a weightlifting book, collected a ton of motivation and began. The first month I really stayed on the workout challenge. I got all the workouts in, both cardio and strength training. I could really feel that my motivation was faltering a bit. I saw definition and tone in my arms. The second month I was working more on the cardio side. I felt burned out on the weights. You see, I was reading a great book, so I wanted to spend my time doing more cardio where I can read at the same time. Then my dear Alison got mycoplasma pneumonia and erythema multiforme and my next week was, shall we say without workout, but with stress which may have the same net effect as actually spending time in the gym.

While my daughter was being diagnosed (difficult) and then healing (so sad because of the systemic allergic reaction she had to the bacteria that was infecting her), I realized that the little things really are very little. Dishes, laundry, kids' homework didn't cause me anywhere near the stress that they usually evoke. I was just so thankful to have her on the road to recovery. The next week I was completely wiped out, totally exhausted, understandably so. Then, I was back into the swing of things (workout wise) and I did the annual grass preparation. In the desert, you have to shave back, thatch, and rake up your grass before you plant new seed each fall. Something they don't advertise when they suck you into living here. Anyway, all that work, and dust and debris in the air, caused me to be super wheezy, so working out was out for the next few days. Now I'm feeling better and I wake up and it is Oct. 1st, my deadline.

Drum roll please.....

My weight was exactly the same as August 1st. In my defense, it was a great weigh- in on Aug 1st, I hadn't seen that number for months. It is probably what helped to get me inspired in the first place, hope. My measurements in 7 areas combined today were 9.5 inches fewer than they were on August 1st. I knew I was looking better, but the scale wasn't reflecting any of the positive changes that I was making. So diamonds, not bathroom scales, really are a girl's best friend.

Where do I go from here? Well, I can see how people (I) usually quit when they aren't seeing the results on the scale. I can also understand how people (I) get sidetracked as they put out the fires that are unexpectantly cropping up throughout the week, month, and year. And that is okay. Working out is like doing the dishes. It is something that needs to be done most of the time. It is fine to let it slide when other things become more important, but when it is said and done, you eventually need to get back there and "do the dishes." You know how much better you'll feel when they are done.

It's Christmas in July.

I had a nice day today. I had the annual appointment that we ladies look forward to so much. This time, however, my office offered a complimentary facial immediately following. I was game for that generous offer. It was wonderful, the facial that is. I felt so pampered. I’m not one to have a whole lot done for me. I do my own nails, my pool, my yard, my house cleaning. I’ve even cut my hair for about 13 years. I now actually have someone cut it for me. Don’t get me wrong, my husband helps with the yard and pool, but I’m seriously putting in effort in these areas as well. And when I say I do my house cleaning, I mean I’m not paying anyone else to do it. Let’s just leave it at that, shall we.

Anyway, I was so glad that I had shopped for school supplies before the blessed facial because I truly felt “too good” for back to school supply shopping. I can see how taking care of ourselves can really make us better, I mean nicer, moms. It takes the edge off. You know what else takes the edge off? A breeze accompanied by a 20 degree drop in temperature in an hour or so, in the desert, in July. My husband was able to wax the car, the girls made up a dance routine, and our boy played hockey in the driveway. We also were able to swim in a pool that was 5 degrees warmer than the air. That is always a delightful experience.

I must say today was a memorable gift, filled with pampering, retail therapy, a gorgeous sunset and I currently have possession of the TV remote control for the first time in about two weeks. Somebody pinch me. I’m not sure it gets any better than this.

It was worth it!

Sometimes we have to experience the truly awful to understand and appreciate the wonderful things. About two weeks ago, while glancing out the kitchen widow, I saw it. It was the baby bunny, maybe the one that we rescued from the jaws of a thieving snake a few weeks earlier. (That story is blogged in June 2010, under You’ve got to be kidding me.) The bunny was about the size of a large kiwi fruit and it was frolicking about. The kids and I, all got to go out and watch it up close. My boy was giggling, the girls were “awwwing.” If we hadn’t gone through that heinous experience, I wouldn’t have been looking for it and we would have missed the magic.

The morning after we arrived home from the airport, I was able to see the darling little guy again, hopping around our little grassy area. The wonderful sight was welcome considering we had just dealt with two more unsuccessful bunny events. Actually, our amazing, pool-watching neighbors handled one bunny loss (thank you) and we cleaned up the other. I can’t even go into the details of our clean up effort. UGH!!! It was the worst situation imaginable. It is just another reminder to keep your eyes open and be observant so you don’t miss the magic. It is there. And it will recharge you so that you can make it through the next “bunny loss.”

Life's a beach.

I’m on vacation. You didn’t think I was going to post daily, did you? I woke up early today, enjoying my coffee, music and the view of bushy black squirrels, chipmunks and some unfamiliar birds, all congregating on the wood’s edge, competing for the birdfeeder’s bounty. I am reading my sister’s book, Quiet Mind, One Minute Retreats from a Busy World, by David Kundtz.

In the first chapter, we are encouraged to pick our life’s metaphor. Apparently, rat race was taken, and it was the wrong answer anyway. This is what I picked. Life is a stroll on a beach. It is all a matter of where, on the beach, you are walking. Let me explain. Living in balance is like walking at the water’s edge, where the sand is packed and cool, it is both effortless and pleasure full. Where are you walking? Are you shuffling deep in the loose hot sand, stepping on sharp shells, maybe stumbling at times? Are you trudging ankle-deep in the water? It takes extra effort to get to the same destination. Algae and debris can get caught under your step. Occasionally you may be stung by a jellyfish. Maybe you are worried about some looming unseen danger hidden in the water.

I imagine that life can be the vacation beach stroll, where we are free to be human beings and not human doings. I recently read that eloquent human “doing” idea somewhere, unfortunately, I can’t remember whose lovely aunt said it. It is my choice where and how I walk. I’m aiming for the cool, damp sand where the water rhythmically refreshes me along my chosen path. Why don’t you join me?

Time out.

So, this is seriously funny. Don’t hate me. Let me have this moment of glory. I know it won’t last.

My little guy is just dipping his feet into the time-out phase of his life. Time-outs are our first line of defense regarding discipline. Okay, they are the third. First we ignore, then we think “Hey, this kid is getting out of hand,” then we remember the blessed time-out.

As you know, if you’ve been reading here, our little guy is a climber. He looks proudly at us from each challenge he conquers. He acts like he has no clue that we mean business. We’ve gently introduced him to his time-out spot. No counting 1,2, 3 for him. When we come to an impasse (he climbs something and won’t get down after we ask 5 times or so), we say, “Okay I think you need a time-out.” He eagerly climbs down and sits in his designated time-out spot. We set the timer for a minute. He quietly looks up at us with the sweetest little face and waits. The timer goes off. We tell him to get up. He comes to us with kisses and hugs. Here is the best part, he forgets what he was doing to get into the time-out in the first place.

My girls think he is the most adorable thing ever as he serves his time. We are all careful not to let him know our feelings, until after the timer rings. We all wait patiently for our kisses. I think it is our favorite time of the day.

Time flies.

Recently, my 10 year old was going through her big box of artwork and memorabilia that is stored under her bed. She was tearful about how cute she used to be and how old she was now. I asked her to imagine how old I felt, having a 10 year old. I told her about how I can remember back when I was in kindergarten. She seemed impressed. I guess it is similar to when my mom said to me, “Talk to me when your baby turns 40!.” Of course, she wasn’t referring to me. It is official, when looking back, no matter your age, time really does fly.

Having a little boy is quite different than how I remember things being when the girls were little. He wakes up, yelling and pointing with amazement “Ball! Vroom, vroom! Hockey!” He goes to bed, yelling “Moon! Dog! Ball!” Did I mention the climbing? We were watching a very girlie movie tonight. A field of flowers, where fairies live, is about to be destroyed by a bunch of big tractors and trucks. My boy’s eyes opened wide at the sight of the construction vehicles. “Wow,” he said in awe. The movie just became worth watching! Let’s just say that he has a passion for life. He is on the go and he loves life! We need to remember our passions that really light our fire, and not let the daily grind snuff out all sparks. You know, the endless laundry loads, the dishwasher full of clean dishes while the sink is full of dirty dishes, the dust bunny reunion in the back hall, please tell me I don’t need to continue.

Looking back 10, 20, 50 years down the road, hopefully we will look back and have so many unique experiences and memories. I hope that dishes and laundry do not make the cut into the Top 100 Exciting Moments of My Life. This blog is sure to remind me that there is life outside of chores and duties. I am blessed to have the opportunity to make a difference in the lives of those around me. I better get cracking, time is ticking.

It could be worse.

This is borderline positive-thinking for parents. It doesn’t sound positive, but sometimes it is all I can muster. Here are a few examples from this past Saturday.

I get the unexpected 8 am call from the neighbors. “Did you know your garage door is open?” I run out and realize that all is well and accounted for. Phew.

After my husband, I didn’t do it this time, left the garage door open, I gave a big lecture to the girls that we must always close the door when we are the last one to go inside. Fast forward two hours, and we are returning home from the grocery store and in the middle of unloading our merchandise. Our 10 year old remembers my lecture well. She promptly closes the garage door, beaming with pride that she is contributing to team family. “I closed the garage door,” she announces. My husband and I look at each other. After 22 combined years of dating and marriage, we both arrive at the same conclusion. Unfortunately, since we are in the middle of unloading, the tailgate of our SUV is still open. I run out and see the tailgate door mostly closed, in an awkward position. Upon inspection, the tailgate is deeply scratched, but functioning. The garage door is no worse for wear. This has not always been the case, but that is a different story, and I didn’t do it this time. We got lucky.

I look up from my task and realize, my toddler is not underfoot. The girls and I begin searching for him. Everywhere, twice. Okay, seriously, where is he??? Then, I find him, safe. Naughty, but safe. He has found the open jelly bean machine in a remote corner of my daughter's room, hidden from view between her queen bed and the wall, and is piling fistfuls of jelly belly beans in his 8-toothed mouth. “Ummmy,” he says. I know my son considered himself lucky.

I’m washing a sink full of dishes. It is bottomless. My wet, but clean, dishes are piling dangerously high on the nearby counter. I’m having a pity party for one. Then, CRASH! A china bowl, from the clean heap, plunges overboard and smashes e-v-e-r-y-w-h-e-r-e! Crap! Then, I think, please let that be the bowl with the chip in it that I should have thrown away years ago. P-l-e-a-s-e! Upon review of the surviving bowls...YESSSS!

Do you see where I am going with this? Say it with me, “It could be worse.”