Let's just get this out of the way once again ... I am not a fitness freak, nor do I love to workout and exercise. I have literally gone years between workouts in the past and never thought a minute about it. I will never be the fittest person I know, nor do I want to be. I hate to diet, and basically hate 96.4% of all vegetables. So how is that in the year 2009, I have completed the P90X home bootcamp, trained myself to be able to finish 5k's, and still plan to take on yet another home bootcamp program called Insanity later this fall? Well basically it came down to the fact that I got tired of just doing enough to get by. I might have been thin, and I might have been able to get back into my skinny jeans after each pregnancy, but I had never been truly fit, flexible, and strong. So I figured, what the heck, I'd give it a go. Either I have finally hit another benchmark on my journey of personal growth, or Tony Horton has given me a fitness labotomy. I'm leaning toward the labotomy.
Whatever the reason, we can't talk about present solutions without looking back in time and discovering the past causes.
First and foremost I was blessed with good genes. I have always had a tall and lean build, and even when I packed on extra weight, it usually got hidden well by my height. In my youth, I was just one of those lucky types that could pretty much eat what I wanted and stay skinny.
On the exercise front, I was a tomboy growing up and loved to play sports. This helped me keep in shape without even thinking about it. When you run 50 Suicides everyday in basketball practice, you tend to keep the weight off. More importantly, my mom worked in the fitness industry since I was young, and other than the scarring memories of her traipsing around in blue lycra unitards and legwarmers while my childhood crushes asked her out on dates, I was fortunate enough to exposed to the "healthclub/gym" lifestyle starting early on ... even if I didn't really think much about it on a personal level until later in my life. I do think that kind of exposure however, has to seep into you almost by osmosis, whether you realize or not. Gyms may never have appealed to me much, but they never scared or intimidated me either.
My college years were certainly not my healthiest, but seriously .... whose are? I played a few sports here and there, and maybe found myself in the college weight room less than a dozen times in 4 years. (Me working the front desk at the gym doesn't count does it?). I did my fair share of imbibing cheap beer, and I even DJ'd in a nightclub where the Budweiser and the extra 15 pounds were free! By the time I graduated to single working life in NYC, my body went into shell shock! I was at my heaviest weight ever and trying to adjust to a totally different lifestyle. This was really the first time I consciously took on the whole "lets get fit" mentality. This new lifestyle in NYC did work to my benefit in many ways. I had to walk everywhere, I could climb the 18 stories to my apartment everyday, and my building was choc-full-o-cute guys who liked to workout in the little community gym. So maybe not so coincidentally, I found myself there working out a lot more than usual. Ok, so my motivation wasn't that pure, but I did land me a hottie for awhile!
The diet part was a bit trickier. I've never ever ever been a healthy eater. Luckily, I've never had a big appetite, but what I do eat is rarely what you would call "the smart choice at the buffet." I have a wicked sweet tooth, I love my carbs, fried food and red meat. I literally gag when I eat most vegetables, and I'm in a very committed relationship with carbonated beverages. I was raised a total meat and potatoes kinda gal and we dined out more than the average family. As you can see, I have my work cut out for me.
On my own in NYC, my minimal discretionary income and I, were led to rock the "Ramen Noodle Diet" pretty dang hard. I even bought Susan Powder's "Stop the Insanity" book and learned that "fat made me fat." So with the few dollars I had for groceries each week, I filled my cart with lots "fat free" Smartwells, and the occassional can of green beans. Yeah .... not so healthy I know. BUT ... I did lose the college weight! Granted, my insides were probably toxic and glowing, but I was still riding the coattails of an early twenties metabolism, and still gloriously naive to the looming effects of age, poor diet, and 3 pregnancies yet to come!
So as my twenties came and went, so did most of my excerice regimes, and any inclination towards a healthy lifestyle. I moved on from NYC to DC, and even back home to Massachusetts with mom and dad for awhile. Yes, I did eat a little better than I had been, but what little good habits I did have in NYC all but slipped away. All the walking was replaced with driving, the gym was replaced with working more, and what free time I had, was filled more often than not with socializing over beers and cigarettes. On the bright side, I did meet the ultimate "hottie", who I eventually married. We settled in Florida for a few years, and spent most of our time working, playing, golfing, smoking, drinking and eating out, and not always in that order.
Honestly though I loved every minute of it! I look fondly back on my twenties as some of the best times of my life. Where the baby boomers might have their Woodstock era of free love and excessive drugs use to reminesce about, I have my Florida sunshine era with marriage and endless weekends at the pool with some beer, smokes and chicken tenders to reminesce about. And trust me ... if I hit 85 years old, I am adopting that lifestyle full force again! I figure if I make it that long, then I'll have earned the free pass on all that end of life debauchery. The good news for me though was, although my carefree ways in my twenties may have lowered my chances of making it to 85 years old just a bit, I was still keeping my weight in check. Yep, based on my very shallow and vein criteria, I was doing goooooooood!
When I was 29 that all changed. We had since returned to New England to start our family, and right on schedule I got pregnant and promptly gained 60 pounds! I had my first child and for the first time in my life, I realized that perhaps a long walk and skipping that 4th slice of pizza was not going to get me back into my skinny jeans. It was about the time I turned 30 that I finally learned that I actually had to "work" to accomplish what fortuidous genetics and an amped up metabolism had done for me in the past. I also started to care just a little more about making it to 85 years old after all. That's one of the first lessons I learned about what getting older and having kids will do to you. You no longer feel invincible and you care!
I dumped most all the bad habits upon learning of my pregnancy, and after giving birth, I joined a gym. When I plateaued still 15 pounds shy of my pre-pregnancy weight after a year of what I would consider light to medium excercise about 3 times a week, I joined Weight Watchers and tried to finally get my poor eating habits under control. Within six very strict and regimented weeks I had finally hit my goal weight and even fell below it for a time. But then guess what happened? I went back to work, my gym membership lapsed, and fried food made a welcome reappearance back into my life. But even with my little relapses, I was still able to do just enough to maintain my weight. That was until pregnancy number two and another 50 pound weight gain.
It was rinse and repeat after that child was born. Rejoined another gym, pulled out the ole' Weight Watchers calculator and dropped the weight in about 6 months. I hit my goals and stopped hitting the gym. I maintained my weight as I always had, by just doing enough to get by. I would cut back on the bad foods when I would gain a few pounds, and I got my exercise chasing 2 active girls around. In 2008 I got pregnant with my last child, and kept the weight gain to 40 pounds this time- an impressive feat I think since I was working in a restaurant during that time and was as inactive as Jaba the Hut during those 9 months. And not just Jaba the Hut, but Jaba the Hut with two broken legs. (Well not sure Jaba really has legs, but you get my drift). When my son was born I thought they had accidently left another baby in my uterus. I swear I had a 6 month baby bump for weeks after his delivery that I not so affectionately called "The Twin."
I did the Weight Watcher points again, but I didn't join a gym this time around. Rather, because it was summer, I took a lot of walks, and supplimented them with daily workouts from Fit TV. Gilad and I became very close. Do you know that he's "happy I trust him with my boddddayyy?"
I even made one of those Oprah-tastic "Dream Boards" and put a half naked picture of Edyta Sliwinska from Dancing With The Stars on it. Trust me, my hubby was really supporting my efforts 100% !!!
By the fall I had done it. I had lost the pregnancy weight again, and it was back again to lazytown. I broke up with Gilad and points were only counted when the scale started to creep upward. Yes, my fitness commitment once again became as eratic as Kanye West's social graces. But who cared ... I was back in those size 6 jeans baby!
Then came 2009 ... or as I now refer to it ... the year that I'm certain Tony Horton gave me a fitness lobotomy.
Maybe it was having a little more time with me not working, or half-naked Edyta staring me in the face every day, or being hypnotized by that scary professional tennis player in the informercial that finally convinced me, but clearly I lost my mind when I agreed to 90 days of intense home bootcamp in addition to its regimented 90 day diet.
I was commited. I would take the P90X challenge with my husband and I would take it on full throttle. The promise of getting in the best shape of my life and getting ripped for the first time in my life was pretty intoxicating. And all I had to do was keep putting the DVD in and pressing play everyday ... oh and then actually doing the workouts and not just watching them. Tony Horton, the totally jacked and ripped personal trainer became my closest friend and fitness mentor for 90 days. Even though I've never really met him, I swear he and I had a connection. I felt it. He always knew what to say and how to say it .... oh and he hadthecutestlittlejokes......
Ahem... anyway ... Tony kept me motivated, encouraged me "to do my best and forget the rest", and led me through a series of workouts the likes of which I had never seen in my life. I knew on day one that this wasn't a joke when our very first move after warm-up was Stacked-Foot Staggerd-Hand Push-Ups. Are you serious? Push-ups? I could barely do ten standard push-ups ... on my knees! Now Tony wanted me to stack my feet and stagger my hands and do push ups ... as my very first move!!!! Crap! What had I gotten myself into.
But never one to quit on a commitment, and not wanting to disappoint my dear Tony, I kept at it, kept pushing play. By the time my 90 days were complete, I enjoyed the push-ups. I became proficient at power yoga, kempo karate, and had moved from 3lb-5lb weights to 15 and 20lbs weights for much of my resistance workouts. I will never love the pull-ups or the demonic 16 minutes of hell they call Ab RipperX, but I did them. I got good enough to do banana rolls just like the lovely and talented Dreya Webber (do you know she flies through the air with the greatest of ease???). I was able to not only touch my toes in a straight legged hamstring stretch, I could grab my feet and hold them the entire time. Never once in my life had I been able to do this until now. I somehow found a way to get that workout in every day (with a few reasonable exceptions). If it meant getting up at 5am I did it, and if it meant 90 minutes of Yoga at 10pm at night, I still did it ... and I always felt better afterwards (if you don't count the first week where I felt like I had been drawn and quartered by Clidesdales).
The commitment was daunting as hell at times, as was the low carb diet (the high protein part was a breeze!). I even purchased the Jack Lelane Juicer so I could drink all those vegetables that I hate. Its amazing how good veggies taste in a drink with a little apple or banana to sweeten it up. I was determined to make this 90 days my chance to finally do it right ... 100% balls-to-the-wall commitment. I figured that if I couldn't make this one little 90 day commitment for my health and well being (and to look smoking hot in a bikini just in time for summer), then I was doomed to a middling existance for the rest of my life. If I quit or "half-assed" it, I would once again just be doing enough to get by. How completely comfortable and incredibly unremarkable that would be.
I would not, could not do that to myself, my hubby or my kids ... or to my dearest Tony whose face I would never be able to look at again. So with this alien resolve, I completed my 90 days in June with one of the greatest senses of accomplishments I've ever felt, and Tony was right! I was in the best damn shape of my life.
So now what?
Well what I didn't realize when I handed over my mind, body and soul to Tony and the P90X gang was that they were really lying to me ... it wasn't just a 90 day committment I was making. They often say it takes only 21 days to a form a new habit. Well if thats true, guess what 90 days forms? You got it... A lifestyle. I had just busted my ass working out for 90 days straight, getting fitter, stronger, and more flexible than I have ever been (and in a size 4!!!), and I wasn't about to just hop back on the couch and eat bon bons and let all my hard work go to waste. Nope, I decided to keep going, incorporating my P90X workouts into my new gym regimen.
Then one day I discoverd something else amazing ... I could run! Well let me just admit right now that I'm not "a runner" and I will never be "a runner". I don't love it and I won't be one of those people who wake up one day and decide they want to run a Marathon. Not going to happen. Ever. However before P90X, I couldn't even run a mile without huffing and puffing and having severe knee pain from an old injury. I'd quit and convince myself that "walking on incline" was just as effective. HA! Well one day right after my 90 days were complete, I just decided to hop on the treadmill and start running and see how far I could go. Imagine my surprise when I ran 3 miles! Now I was going at a very slow pace, but I was still amazed, and just a wee bit inspired I guess.
So I kept up the running, and tried to increase my speed a little each time, and even pondered the possibility that I might someday run an official 5k. You know down the road in the future sometime. Maybe even next year. Well imagine my complete horror one Friday when hubby proposed that I run my first official 5k that Sunday!!! 48 hours later!!!! Oh Good Lord, what had I done. I had gone and misguidingly convinced other people that I liked running and might even be good at it! Double HA!
Well again, the Tony Horton labotomy kicked in and I just decided to go for it. If you haven't read my Good, Bad, and Ugly blog from earlier this month, go back and do so. I detail the happenings of the race there.
The next day I tweeted about barely surviving my very first official 5k race, and some random "follower" of mine replied to me that he "ate 5k's for breakfast."
Jackass!
Yet the more I thought about it, I couldn't stop thinking that the idea of "eating 5k's for breakfast" was so completely and utterly cool. Here I thought eating "Special K's" for breakast was about the healthiest I'd ever get, now I had the option of eating 5K's for breakfast. Hmmmmm.... maybe he wasn't a jackass afterall. Maybe he was just laying down my next challenge.
So I have continued to run 5 days a week, on the treadmill and outside. I haven't really gotten much faster, or dared to add the hills back into the mix, but I have noticed that I can now indeed eat very flat, temperature-controlled 5K's for breakfast. Or at the very least, I'm snacking on them. I am planning my second official 5K before the end of the year.
Seriously, what did Tony do to me????
Now as the weather cools, and working out in a house without central AC once again becomes a viable option, hubby and I have decided to take on our next challenge. Another at home bootcamp called "Insanity." Only 60 days this time, but all intense cardio-based workouts, I think this one is very aptly titled. I do feel as though I have gone insane sometimes. I still don't see myself as that "gym rat" or "fitness freak" just because I work out at 5-6 days a week. I do it because I love the results and want to keep them. I'm usually game for a challenge, and I love knowing that I can now indulge my sweet tooth or cravings for craptastic food every now and then and I won't be drenched in guilt or worry about counting points again.
But most of all I am determined to make it to 85 so I can party like Lindsay Lohan on a weekend bender! So only 47 more years to go!
Damn you Tony Horton! 90 days my arse!
MEOW!
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Monday, September 14, 2009
Ten Things I'm Excited About Right Now (AKA: things that keep me from the bottle!)
Every now and then I find myself really excited and/or filled with lots of anticipation about certain things. Things that give me something to look forward to and help keep me sane. When these things start adding up, I will probably put them here in my blog as a list. Yeah, a list is kind of a lazy way out of a blog, but for an OCD gal like me, life is often one big list, so get used to em, I have a feeling there will be a lot of lists here at Moonkitty Mama. So without further adieu ....
Ten Things I'm Excited About Right Now
10. My new "Radio" app for my iPhone! Ok, I know this seems kinda silly since having portable radios with headphones isn't quite groundbreaking territory here. I got my first Sony Walkman Radio when I was like 11 years old back in 1982, and never took it off for like 5 straight months. I swear I was the only kid who listened to Casey Kasem's Top 40 Countdown three times every week! But I digress ... the good ole' portable radio headphones have become part of our past, and the techie graveyard like VHS tapes, or word processors. They first made way for advances like the portable cassette player, the Discman, and eventually for things like mp3 players, iPod's, iPhones and any other miriad of gadgets that can play music while you email, text, call, Facebook, Tweet, and GPS every person you have ever met at any time (and some you haven't!). So other than seeing the occassional senior citizen wearing them, antenna's up, on the treadmill, listening to commercial radio while working out might seem as dated as a Ron Burgandy mustache. However don't scoff just yet! Thanks to the IPhone and its endless goodie bag of Apps, the ability to listen to your favorite radio station while you are pushing through that early morning run is once again possible ... and without looking like you've taken Michael J. Fox's Delorian back twenty-five years! For me, there really is only one radio station I want to listen to while I workout anyway, and that is WEEI Sports Radio. I don't know about you, but I excercise better and longer when I can forget I'm well... you know.... excercising. Music becomes too background for me. Too easy to focus on the pain in my thighs or my chest or my head. Too easy to engage that part of my brain that likes to remind me of my couch and my bed and my bag of Doritos. However, things like watching television or listening to sports talk while working out, keeps my focus away from the pain away from the evil lazy thoughts. I can go a lot longer on a treadmill watching a good episode of Oprah, or run a lot further on the bike path listening to the guys on WEEI debate who has the biggest man-crush on Tom Brady. Viva la iPhone! I'm really digging your Radio App!
9. Getting more "involved" at my daughters school, and by "involved" I mean I'm aiming for being recognized by more than one person at the school not named Sophia Richardson. Yes, my youngest daughter Sophia started Kindergarten a few weeks ago, and for reasons too complicated and boring to explain here, she attends a different elementary school than my oldest daughter Isabella. Also new for me is the fact that I'm no longer a working mom. With Isabella these last few years working full-time, I was unable to be involved in much. I couldn't volunteer for things, I didn't get to attend many daytime events or class field trips. The few things I was able to attend left me very envious of those SAHM's that all seemed to know each other, to have that "SAHM mom clique" that I yearned for. Yes working moms I found out very early on, are the social outcasts at every Open House or School Play .... we have no one to sit with or no one to chat with afterwards. Its was a lonely existance, and even though I had my beloved "daycare mom clique", it didn't help me at the school functions. Now that I am a SAHM myself, with another daughter starting fresh in a new school, I am determined to get in early with that "SAHM mom clique" ... you know... so I too can stare down my nose at these lonely working moms just standing around looking desperately to assimilate. MUAHHHHHH!!!! No seriosuly, I'll actually talk with these mom's ... and here's a novel concept .... invite them to join us!!!! Ok, I'm really not that bitter I swear, but I am all about reforming the whole mom's clique crap. It's 2009, time to end the segregation people!!! Me getting involved in year one, on the kindergarten level, will be my first step to a new era! Print the bumper stickers, my campaign starts now ... Moonkitty Mama / A Mama for ALL Mamas or maybe Moonkitty Mama! She will sit next to you at the next school function! Ok, maybe that last one is a little long, but you catch my drift. I will fight to bring the SAHM's and the working moms together! I am excited about this!
8. Brody is about to walk finally .... I think .... I hope ..... Brody is my third kid. I'm not a naive new parent. This is isn't my first rodeo is what I'm saying. I wasn't always eager to have him walk. I know what a walking child means to me and to my sanity. For the first 14 months I was absolutely fine with his seemingly apathetic attitude towards getting around in an upright position. However, he's pushing 16 months now. He's in the 96% for height. He's heavy. He's wiggly and strong when I have to carry him. I have officially passed over to the WALK DAMN IT stage! I shall deal with the chasing of him when it comes, but right now I just need to be able to put him down outside. I'm excited because he's currently experimenting with standing without holding anything, and hopefully those first few steps are soon to follow. If not, I might just put him in rollerskates and give him a push! I'll keep you posted on his progress.
7. I have a Lia Sophia party on Saturday. So I haven't mentioned my little side business yet have I? Yes, even though I am a SAHM now, I do have an outlet that makes me a little extra cash, and gets me out every now and then. I love my Lia business because I basically get paid to party, and get lots of free and discounted "bling" to boot! Anyway, got me a party this Saturday afternoon. No kids, free cocktails, getting to meet new peeps, and making a litte extra $$. Now that get's me excited! Now just in case you are wondering what Lia Sophia jewelry is (and I thought you'd never ask), here's my Lia website .... http://www.liasophia.com/sites/kirarichardson
6. Isabella's soccer season. This actually started last week, but having had a first glimpse of my 8 year old's forray into U10 league, I am even more excited. Isabella has been playing soccer since she was three years old. She is really good. We've encouraged her love of the game, but have always made sure she stays on the "fun-side" of the sport as much as possible. We do have to reign in her hyperactive competative nature just a tad, because well... she is really competative. Yeah so she was throwing elbows at four, and throwing Serena-like tantrums on the field by five, but she has also been the best player on almost every team she's played on. She's routinely scored between 5-15 goals per game. She's the kid the other parents are whispering about. Her dad and I are extremely proud, but are determined not to become the obnoxious sports parents who takes our child's sports success as some sort of personal goal and accomplishment. This is her thing, and we are here to support it they best we can. We're glad she is good, and we are glad she loves it ... and although she tells us her goal is to play for the Women's US Olympic Soccer team someday, we realize that making Varsity in high school is still a pipe dream at this early point. That being said, Isabella finally moved to U10 this season. This is "the big leap" from small field to big field, small nets to big nets ...with goalies ... and real legit soccer rules, including offsides. I was, and am excited to see Isabella's transition into this next level. This is where we see if she will sink or swim as a top notch player in her age group. Whether or not she'll be good enough for a Club League next year. Isabella had her first game this past Saturday. She scored all three goals for her team and they won 3-1. So far so good. Now where is that scholarship damn it!
5a. The Baseball Playoffs are coming. As a lifelong Red Sox fan this is bizarro territory for us for sure. Ever since our World Series win in 2004, we have become pretty accustomed to getting into the playoffs. As long as we're remotely in the Division or Wild Card races, we kinda sit back and check-out until the playoffs come rolling around. Maybe it's because we as fans have gotten cocky, or bored, or more interested in the start of the football season. I think it's because as long as we are confident that we are going to get there (and we will get there this season), then NOTHING matters more than the playoffs themselves. So go ahead wake me up when the ALDS starts, and until then .... ARE YOU READY FOR SOME FOOTBALL!?!?!?! And that leads me to part 2 of the next thing I'm excited about ....
5b. FOOTBALL!!!! For us Patriots fans, the football season starts tonight. Yes, yesterday was a nice appetizer, and it was nice to see that Brett Favre made it through an entire game without retiring, but for me the main course kicks-off at 7pm with the return of the best QB in the league back under center where he belongs. Our hopes for another awesome run to the Super Bowl are high, but as fragile as another Albert Haynesworth tackle. I know I'll be holding my breath with every drop back pass Brady takes. Yes he's nice guy, and yes he's hot, and will likey have offspring more beautiful and awe inspiring than the Sistine Chapel, but I'm a fan first and foremost, and despite conventional wisdom that women only like a players if they look good in tight pants, I root for Tom Brady because he is a winner. The fact that he is smoking hot is just the marshmellos in my hot chocolate. This brings me to big a pet peeve of mine. I've been a sports fan my entire life. I have two older brothers who had a lot to do with harvesting my enthusiasm, but I became a huge sports fan very early on. I was watching in the 70's when the Bruins were on top, the Celts were coming off a decade of dominance, the Red Sox had Yaz, Rice and Lynn, and the Patriots were the 4th most popular football team in New England, let alone sports team. Yes, I love my teams and I fly high when they win, and I go into deep depression when they lose. So in this respect I spent a lot of the 1990's depressed as hell. I do resent it when some men seem to take my fandom lightly just because I'm a "girl". As if I couldn't talk for hours about why Belichik is going back to the 4-3 after years in the 3-4, or how it was nice to finally see another good free throw shooter in Boston in Ray Allen, years after Larry raked up his 93% season in 89-90. No, instead we are derogatorily called "Pink Hats" as if wearing pink hats means we are new light-weight fly-by-night fans, only taking superficial interest in the team because they are winning and its somehow en vogue. Dude... I friggin like the color pink, so shoot me! Anyway, I am a sports fan, and I love my teams with a white hot passion of a million burning suns, and yes I happen to have boobs. I'm a woman, a mother, and a sports chic (hear me roar!). Now get used to it.
Ok, end of bitter ugly rant. Pass the nachos, I'm ready for some football. Woo hoo!!!
4. This blog! Yes, I'm very excited that I started this blog, and I look forward and am enjoying updating every week. It's given me a good healthy outlet to express myself, and document things going on in my life these days. I hope you all (the 25 or so of you) are also enjoying it too. Please also know my fake indifference to judgement is only a front. I'm really insecure and crave feedback. So I will be shamless hag and beg you for your comments at the bottom. Come on ... you can do it. Use your voice! If I don't like what you say I can always delete it anyway. Hee hee.
3. My hubby's back! Very excited about this. I do plan a future blog about my heightened paranoia and OCD tendancies that I develop while my husband goes away for any length of time, but for now lets just leave it at ... he was gone, now he's back. I love him and missed him and oh yes, I'm tired as hell after another 5 days without him .... so yeah ....I'm pretty excited he's home. The fact he reads this blog did not enter into any decision to include him on this list.
2. Our family vacation to Florida next month! Yeah, this should be number one really. Nothing gets me excited like knowing I've gotta vacation coming up. The anticipation alone is like a pool of excitement that keeps on giving and giving until the vacation gets real close and I start dreading its end before we've even left. Yeah yeah, I know ... not very "living in the moment" of me. Anyway ... we've got a week long vacation at the beach in Florida coming up in October, and without the baby even - just hubby and the girls and me! I think about my beach vacation at least 3,432 times a day. Now you also know why I'm working-out everyday too.
1. October 2nd. If you don't know why I'm excited for October 2, see last blog :)
MEOW!
Ten Things I'm Excited About Right Now
10. My new "Radio" app for my iPhone! Ok, I know this seems kinda silly since having portable radios with headphones isn't quite groundbreaking territory here. I got my first Sony Walkman Radio when I was like 11 years old back in 1982, and never took it off for like 5 straight months. I swear I was the only kid who listened to Casey Kasem's Top 40 Countdown three times every week! But I digress ... the good ole' portable radio headphones have become part of our past, and the techie graveyard like VHS tapes, or word processors. They first made way for advances like the portable cassette player, the Discman, and eventually for things like mp3 players, iPod's, iPhones and any other miriad of gadgets that can play music while you email, text, call, Facebook, Tweet, and GPS every person you have ever met at any time (and some you haven't!). So other than seeing the occassional senior citizen wearing them, antenna's up, on the treadmill, listening to commercial radio while working out might seem as dated as a Ron Burgandy mustache. However don't scoff just yet! Thanks to the IPhone and its endless goodie bag of Apps, the ability to listen to your favorite radio station while you are pushing through that early morning run is once again possible ... and without looking like you've taken Michael J. Fox's Delorian back twenty-five years! For me, there really is only one radio station I want to listen to while I workout anyway, and that is WEEI Sports Radio. I don't know about you, but I excercise better and longer when I can forget I'm well... you know.... excercising. Music becomes too background for me. Too easy to focus on the pain in my thighs or my chest or my head. Too easy to engage that part of my brain that likes to remind me of my couch and my bed and my bag of Doritos. However, things like watching television or listening to sports talk while working out, keeps my focus away from the pain away from the evil lazy thoughts. I can go a lot longer on a treadmill watching a good episode of Oprah, or run a lot further on the bike path listening to the guys on WEEI debate who has the biggest man-crush on Tom Brady. Viva la iPhone! I'm really digging your Radio App!
9. Getting more "involved" at my daughters school, and by "involved" I mean I'm aiming for being recognized by more than one person at the school not named Sophia Richardson. Yes, my youngest daughter Sophia started Kindergarten a few weeks ago, and for reasons too complicated and boring to explain here, she attends a different elementary school than my oldest daughter Isabella. Also new for me is the fact that I'm no longer a working mom. With Isabella these last few years working full-time, I was unable to be involved in much. I couldn't volunteer for things, I didn't get to attend many daytime events or class field trips. The few things I was able to attend left me very envious of those SAHM's that all seemed to know each other, to have that "SAHM mom clique" that I yearned for. Yes working moms I found out very early on, are the social outcasts at every Open House or School Play .... we have no one to sit with or no one to chat with afterwards. Its was a lonely existance, and even though I had my beloved "daycare mom clique", it didn't help me at the school functions. Now that I am a SAHM myself, with another daughter starting fresh in a new school, I am determined to get in early with that "SAHM mom clique" ... you know... so I too can stare down my nose at these lonely working moms just standing around looking desperately to assimilate. MUAHHHHHH!!!! No seriosuly, I'll actually talk with these mom's ... and here's a novel concept .... invite them to join us!!!! Ok, I'm really not that bitter I swear, but I am all about reforming the whole mom's clique crap. It's 2009, time to end the segregation people!!! Me getting involved in year one, on the kindergarten level, will be my first step to a new era! Print the bumper stickers, my campaign starts now ... Moonkitty Mama / A Mama for ALL Mamas or maybe Moonkitty Mama! She will sit next to you at the next school function! Ok, maybe that last one is a little long, but you catch my drift. I will fight to bring the SAHM's and the working moms together! I am excited about this!
8. Brody is about to walk finally .... I think .... I hope ..... Brody is my third kid. I'm not a naive new parent. This is isn't my first rodeo is what I'm saying. I wasn't always eager to have him walk. I know what a walking child means to me and to my sanity. For the first 14 months I was absolutely fine with his seemingly apathetic attitude towards getting around in an upright position. However, he's pushing 16 months now. He's in the 96% for height. He's heavy. He's wiggly and strong when I have to carry him. I have officially passed over to the WALK DAMN IT stage! I shall deal with the chasing of him when it comes, but right now I just need to be able to put him down outside. I'm excited because he's currently experimenting with standing without holding anything, and hopefully those first few steps are soon to follow. If not, I might just put him in rollerskates and give him a push! I'll keep you posted on his progress.
7. I have a Lia Sophia party on Saturday. So I haven't mentioned my little side business yet have I? Yes, even though I am a SAHM now, I do have an outlet that makes me a little extra cash, and gets me out every now and then. I love my Lia business because I basically get paid to party, and get lots of free and discounted "bling" to boot! Anyway, got me a party this Saturday afternoon. No kids, free cocktails, getting to meet new peeps, and making a litte extra $$. Now that get's me excited! Now just in case you are wondering what Lia Sophia jewelry is (and I thought you'd never ask), here's my Lia website .... http://www.liasophia.com/sites/kirarichardson
6. Isabella's soccer season. This actually started last week, but having had a first glimpse of my 8 year old's forray into U10 league, I am even more excited. Isabella has been playing soccer since she was three years old. She is really good. We've encouraged her love of the game, but have always made sure she stays on the "fun-side" of the sport as much as possible. We do have to reign in her hyperactive competative nature just a tad, because well... she is really competative. Yeah so she was throwing elbows at four, and throwing Serena-like tantrums on the field by five, but she has also been the best player on almost every team she's played on. She's routinely scored between 5-15 goals per game. She's the kid the other parents are whispering about. Her dad and I are extremely proud, but are determined not to become the obnoxious sports parents who takes our child's sports success as some sort of personal goal and accomplishment. This is her thing, and we are here to support it they best we can. We're glad she is good, and we are glad she loves it ... and although she tells us her goal is to play for the Women's US Olympic Soccer team someday, we realize that making Varsity in high school is still a pipe dream at this early point. That being said, Isabella finally moved to U10 this season. This is "the big leap" from small field to big field, small nets to big nets ...with goalies ... and real legit soccer rules, including offsides. I was, and am excited to see Isabella's transition into this next level. This is where we see if she will sink or swim as a top notch player in her age group. Whether or not she'll be good enough for a Club League next year. Isabella had her first game this past Saturday. She scored all three goals for her team and they won 3-1. So far so good. Now where is that scholarship damn it!
5a. The Baseball Playoffs are coming. As a lifelong Red Sox fan this is bizarro territory for us for sure. Ever since our World Series win in 2004, we have become pretty accustomed to getting into the playoffs. As long as we're remotely in the Division or Wild Card races, we kinda sit back and check-out until the playoffs come rolling around. Maybe it's because we as fans have gotten cocky, or bored, or more interested in the start of the football season. I think it's because as long as we are confident that we are going to get there (and we will get there this season), then NOTHING matters more than the playoffs themselves. So go ahead wake me up when the ALDS starts, and until then .... ARE YOU READY FOR SOME FOOTBALL!?!?!?! And that leads me to part 2 of the next thing I'm excited about ....
5b. FOOTBALL!!!! For us Patriots fans, the football season starts tonight. Yes, yesterday was a nice appetizer, and it was nice to see that Brett Favre made it through an entire game without retiring, but for me the main course kicks-off at 7pm with the return of the best QB in the league back under center where he belongs. Our hopes for another awesome run to the Super Bowl are high, but as fragile as another Albert Haynesworth tackle. I know I'll be holding my breath with every drop back pass Brady takes. Yes he's nice guy, and yes he's hot, and will likey have offspring more beautiful and awe inspiring than the Sistine Chapel, but I'm a fan first and foremost, and despite conventional wisdom that women only like a players if they look good in tight pants, I root for Tom Brady because he is a winner. The fact that he is smoking hot is just the marshmellos in my hot chocolate. This brings me to big a pet peeve of mine. I've been a sports fan my entire life. I have two older brothers who had a lot to do with harvesting my enthusiasm, but I became a huge sports fan very early on. I was watching in the 70's when the Bruins were on top, the Celts were coming off a decade of dominance, the Red Sox had Yaz, Rice and Lynn, and the Patriots were the 4th most popular football team in New England, let alone sports team. Yes, I love my teams and I fly high when they win, and I go into deep depression when they lose. So in this respect I spent a lot of the 1990's depressed as hell. I do resent it when some men seem to take my fandom lightly just because I'm a "girl". As if I couldn't talk for hours about why Belichik is going back to the 4-3 after years in the 3-4, or how it was nice to finally see another good free throw shooter in Boston in Ray Allen, years after Larry raked up his 93% season in 89-90. No, instead we are derogatorily called "Pink Hats" as if wearing pink hats means we are new light-weight fly-by-night fans, only taking superficial interest in the team because they are winning and its somehow en vogue. Dude... I friggin like the color pink, so shoot me! Anyway, I am a sports fan, and I love my teams with a white hot passion of a million burning suns, and yes I happen to have boobs. I'm a woman, a mother, and a sports chic (hear me roar!). Now get used to it.
Ok, end of bitter ugly rant. Pass the nachos, I'm ready for some football. Woo hoo!!!
4. This blog! Yes, I'm very excited that I started this blog, and I look forward and am enjoying updating every week. It's given me a good healthy outlet to express myself, and document things going on in my life these days. I hope you all (the 25 or so of you) are also enjoying it too. Please also know my fake indifference to judgement is only a front. I'm really insecure and crave feedback. So I will be shamless hag and beg you for your comments at the bottom. Come on ... you can do it. Use your voice! If I don't like what you say I can always delete it anyway. Hee hee.
3. My hubby's back! Very excited about this. I do plan a future blog about my heightened paranoia and OCD tendancies that I develop while my husband goes away for any length of time, but for now lets just leave it at ... he was gone, now he's back. I love him and missed him and oh yes, I'm tired as hell after another 5 days without him .... so yeah ....I'm pretty excited he's home. The fact he reads this blog did not enter into any decision to include him on this list.
2. Our family vacation to Florida next month! Yeah, this should be number one really. Nothing gets me excited like knowing I've gotta vacation coming up. The anticipation alone is like a pool of excitement that keeps on giving and giving until the vacation gets real close and I start dreading its end before we've even left. Yeah yeah, I know ... not very "living in the moment" of me. Anyway ... we've got a week long vacation at the beach in Florida coming up in October, and without the baby even - just hubby and the girls and me! I think about my beach vacation at least 3,432 times a day. Now you also know why I'm working-out everyday too.
1. October 2nd. If you don't know why I'm excited for October 2, see last blog :)
MEOW!
Monday, September 7, 2009
The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly! (AKA: My Weekend)
Well as I got thinking about the weekend that just was, I realized very quickly that starting with Friday, my days fell naturally into a pattern best described like the ole' Clint Eastwood classic ... The Good, The Bad and The Ugly. As I further hashed out the happenings of the last couple of days, I realized that there was a lot of material here to discuss. So much so that I contemplated breaking this blog into three seperate sections to give you all a break. But then I decided .... Nah! ...They can deal with an extra long blog. They're tough! (You are tough right?) I do advise getting a bite to eat and using the facilities before sitting down to read this marathon blog.
Heck, you could even combine the three. Just lock yourself away in the bathroom and tell your family that you are having "stomach issues" and "you might be awhile"! Then grab a sandwich and either a portable device or hard copy print-out of the blog and relax. Anyway, wherever you decide to read this ... you have been warned. This is gonna be long.
THE GOOD
Don't even get me started on the fact that after going back to school on Monday, the school committe in my town thought it would be a good idea to give the kids Friday off ... effectively creating a four day Labor Day weekend only four days after school started up again. What? The teachers need a break already???? HELLO! I just got these kids out of my house after 3 months. What kind of sick joke was this really? Well since I would have probably been arrested for dropping my girls in front of their schools and driving off, I decided to let them stay home with me and the baby on Friday.
The day itself was fine with the kids - gym, lunch, park, etc. But Friday night is where things got good. Not good as in my single-college-days type of good. But good in a mid-to-late-thirties-with-kids type of good. Friday night was the type of night all of us moms get excited about - a highlight in our month that we look forward to from the moment the last one ended. The night where we leave our families behind for a few hours, actually wear clean clothes, put makeup on and brush our hair. Yes, Friday night was my GIRL'S NIGHT OUT!!!!
Nothing gets a mom more giddy than knowing there is a girl's night out coming up. For me and one of my closest friends, our girl's night out is usually the first Friday of the month, and September 4th came right on schedule!!! Yeehaw! Now as I intimated in the last paragraph, our girl's night is not quite the same at our station in life as it might have been 15-20 years ago. No, no crazy drinking parties playing strip poker, or dancing on tables at a dive bar, or rocking out until sunrise at a disco. No crazy adventures eluding the cops, or drinking margaritas at a male strip club. Nothing like that. Not that I would even know what that stuff would be like. Noooooooooo, not me, I was a saint! I just heard rumblings from friends about that kinda stuff. Yup .... ahem .....
.... Anyhooo .... moving on. The point being is that the definition of a girl's night out has changed with age and the amount of dependents we claim on our taxes. Nowadays, it really doesn't take that much to get us excited, or make us feel like we are getting craaaaaazzzaaaay. Heck, most times, we don't even make it out of a 5 mile radius from our homes. Does this make us old farts? You betcha!
For us, our girl's night usually starts with a long and leisurely dinner with drinks, where we can actually .... you know .... TALK! Truly, such a novel idea when you are used to grabbing dinner together with all the kids in tow. Between the yelling at the children to "sit down" "stop climbing under the table" "use your restaurant voice" "eat your food or no dessert" or taking them on their third trip to the bathroom in a half hour, there is usually very little time left to say 10 words to each other ... and those are only curse words whispered under our breathes anyway. Yes, uninterrupted conversation between myself and another adult is such a luxury that I will literally hold a full bladder of pee for HOURS, just so we can keep talking.
So dinner and drinks it usually is, and was on Friday night, followed by yet another prized luxury in our lives ... the child-free trip to Target!!!!! I can't even begin to explain what getting a half- hour of peaceful browsing through our favorite store is like. For the men out there, I'd imagine it is the mom version of what you dads might correlate to being home alone with no wife or kids, and discovering that its a free preview weekend of Cinemax!!! Just wow!
First off, we don't need to push a cart. We can walk freely and uninhibitedly through clothing racks, touching and caressing the clothes we usually only get to glance at quickly from afar. We can wander by the toy section without the impending sense of doom that our children will start begging for every item they see ... usually trying to convince us that because London Tipton has it, so should they. We can wander up and down the housewares department with gay abandon, picking up a picture frame here, or a plasitc container there. It's all so lovely and quiet! Of course, and this is probably the biggest and sickest irony of the whole Target without children experience - the only item my girlfriend and I walked out of the store purchasing, was something for our kids. Sad I know, but at least we picked it out on our terms, damnit!
Our girl's night out usually ends the evening with a movie ... preferrably an R-rated movie with no talking animals or 3D glasses... oh and the more dirty language the better! Our last three movies we saw before this Friday were Step Brothers, The Hangover, and The Ugly Truth. Yes, we cherish the opportunity to see something base and raunchy that may even (gasp!) have male frontal nudity! So what if we are already blushing nervously during the Previews when those dang AXE Cologne ads come on? Have you seen those? Seriously, they are pornographic for cripes sakes! But we persevere, cause we old farts with little kids need to keep it real sometimes, and any Judd Apatow movie usually does the trick! HOLLA!
Well this Friday night we went for a tamer PG-13 selection and saw All About Steve. Cute and silly movie, but really the only reason we chose it was because after The Hangover, we realized Bradley Cooper is WICKED HOT!!!! Hey, we mom's need our eye candy too!
So Friday night ended, and I returned home to a quiet and sleeping house ... more relaxed and rested, and not even thinking about our next scheduled Girl's Night Out on October 2nd. Then Saturday came ....
THE BAD
So the early morning was pretty normal actually. Woke about 6:30-7am. Enjoyed my tea in bed while my kids came and snuggled one-by-one with me. Pretty awesome actually. I love my morning kid snuggles ... and am especially receptive after a Girls Night Out!
So seemingly off to a good start, I decide that Brody, my 15 month old little dude, would enjoy a bath. He loves baths actually and although his favorite part is taking plastic cups, filling them with water, and dumping them out on the bathroom floor, I was feeling extraordinarily patient and forgiving. So I threw caution (and my OCD tendancies) to the wind, and lined the floor with towels and proceeded to hand over TWO plastic cups to my little rapscallion. Yes he happily splashed and dumped water on the floor as usual. Yes I was soaking wet and not minding it too much, but that is when things changed for the worse. About the time I was washing his hair, I noticed Brody fighting me more than usual. He would crawl away to the far side of the tub and precariously attempt to stand up and away from my cleaning and rinsing cup. I was getting frustrated as I was having a hard time getting the shampoo out of his hair without it going in his eyes, while I was simultaneously worried he would slip and fall and hurt himself. Brody was just getting mad. After another minute of this power struggle, he turned red faced and screamed ... and that's when I realized ... he was "dropping a deuce" in the tub!!! OH NO!!!! The dreaded poop in the tubwater scenario! A first for Brody, but after two other kids, certainly not a first for me. However, unlike my girls' sweet little hard tootsie rolls that were fairly easy to catch and dispose of, darling little Brody was leaving me more of the chocolate mousse variety!!! ACK! And it was coming and still coming!!! What did this kid eat for breakfast?!?!?!
I screamed out the window to hubby who was working in the backyard to let him know of my predicament. Did he come running to my rescue... to help with either the poopie retrieval or to hold the poopie covered and very slippery baby while I recleaned the tub? Um that would be a negative. I was on my own, just me, the baby and the crap. Bad times.
However, with all the patience and creativity I had in me, I was finally able to get the baby out of the water, holding him while I caught all the poopies, drained the tub, cleaned out the rest of the poopies, refilled the water, cleaned off the poopie-covered baby, and then put the baby back in the tub for bath number two! AH HA! But not before hubby finally came to my assistance! Yes, my knight in shining armour appeared for 10 seconds to hand me some paper towels and leave again!!!! Really? How gracious of you! Seriously, how will I ever repay that type of kindness? Hmmm .... let me think ....
So that was the first sign that it might not be a great day, but I put the "dooker in the tub" episode behind me and moved on, hopeful for better things that day. While Brody napped and the girls played out the backyard with hubby, I even started to recapture some of that early "tea and snuggle" feeling. I decided that when Brody woke up from his nap, I would take him to IKEA for a few hours while hubby continued to work on his backyard project. A little outing with just the baby and I ... you know to be sure there were no lingering hurt feelings from our little incident in the tub. It all seemed to be a great idea on paper; Daddy gets his project done, girls get to play outside, and mommy and baby head off for the hour drive to the Swedish Mecca.
But as they say in football ... thats why they play the game !!!
Not 15 minutes into our little road trip, Brody's happy demeanor turned into a mild crabiness, which within another 5 minutes turned into a full fledged meltdown. I'm talking sweaty, red faced, kicking and screaming meltdown. The kind of screaming that creciendos into volumes so loud that you have to roll your car windows up in traffic before someone calls DCYF on your ass. I thought perhaps pulling off at a rest area for a little drive-through snack would settle things down. I thought wrong. He threw a chicken nugget so hard at my head that I'm pretty sure the Baltimore Orioles would make him their 5th starter.
It was also about this time that he started with the hyperventilating. Oh God how I hate the hyperventilating! It makes me feel so bad for babies when they get going like that. They have no idea why they can't breathe, and they're too young to coach them through it. I kept telling myself that if I could just get to IKEA, I know he would stop. He just wanted out of the car and out of the car seat.
Either Brody was still bitter at ME for the tub incident, or he has something seriously against the Swedes, because well... I was wrong again.
We arrived to a full Saturday afternoon parking lot which didn't offer up too many easily found spaces. Do you know how stressful it is to look for parking in a jammed lot, with a screaming and hyperventilating child in the car? Well, trust me, its like the Mt. Everest of stress!!! Every ounce of patience I had stockpiled from my Girls Night Out, was not only depleted, but was building debt quicker than the Economic Stimulus Plan.
I think I finally "car stalked" a family from the IKEA door to their car and gave them the hairy eyeball as they unloaded an entire house-full of "assembly required" furniture into their SAAB at the pace of my 5 year old getting ready for bed.
When I finally got into a space and looked back at the Martian in my son's car seat, I was certain better times were before me. Well color me shocked when taking him out of his car seat, still kicking and screaming, didn't stop him. Or the hugging and rubbing his head and trying to soothe him. Or the putting him in the shopping cart. Or stroller. Or carrying him. Or rocking him like a newborn.
As I approached the door to IKEA in hopes that seeing the bright sparkly lights of the world's biggest baby maze would shut him- er ... I mean soothe him, I saw the fear of God on the watchful faces of the other shoppers entering the store. "That woman is NOT going to be briging that screaming tazmanian devil into the store IS SHE????" I smiled pathetically. I tried putting Brody down on the floor ... you know ... to crawl out his troubles. Give him a sense of freedom. Nope. Nuthin'. He screamed louder and held his arms up to me pleadingly. I felt bad. Awww he just wants his Mommy, or so I thought until I picked him up and he began to swing at my head in furry. He seriously wanted to kick my ass!
Good Lord and Mercy Me! I just drove an hour here with a screaming child, only to get in the door five feet and realize I had to now drive back home an hour with a still screaming and seriously ticked off 15 month old. An even more terrifying thought ... I had to put him back in his car seat!!!!
(help me mama)
So back to the car (and that parking spot I worked so hard for dang it) I went, and now those horrified faces on strangers turned to sympathy. I was not getting any meatballs today.
So about 20 minutes back towards home, Brody finally screamed and hyperventilated himself into a sleep coma. He fought it - boy did he fight it. But it finally overtook him, and soon his adorable sweaty pink face was finally sleeping peacefully. I however needed Advil and a stiff drink .... and definitely a bathroom. Did I happen to mention I had to pee this entire time too? Unfortunately all of these things ended up having to wait until I got home, but what couldn't wait was a stop to gas up. As I cut the car motor at the pump, I glanced in the rearview mirror like a speeder looking back in fear that the cop they just whizzed by wouldn't hit the siren and come after them.
PLEASE DON'T LET THE BABY WAKE UP!!!!
No such luck. He woke up. DANG IT!
Much to my surprise and delight however, was that the alien that had possessed Brody and had screamed non-stop for nearly two hours strait, had been replaced by the sweet and happy son I once remembered. Brody was quietly babbling and smiling while grabbing his feet playfully. Well I'll be. Remind me to ask his pediatrician how early bi-polar disorder can be diagnosed.
I finally returned home, exhausted and nursing a helluva headache, but with a baby as happy and contented as the one I left with. I have of course vowed never to take Brody to IKEA again. He's not even allowed to LOOK at the catalog!
THE UGLY
(are you still with me???? Better stretch your legs now!)
So Saturday mercifully behind me, and now came Sunday. Did I mention that on Friday I agreed to run in my first ever 5K race???? I didn't? Oh yes, because I had tried to forget that little fact all weekend, but now was the day ... the day I put my pride on the line, and attempted to run 3.10 miles .... outside, away from a treadmill, and in front of other people! What was I thinking people!?!?!
Let me just say that although I have become one of those "excersing people" I used to mock, I am not, and will never be, a runner. My knees are too bad, my heart and lungs too weak, and my mind not nearly focused enough to ever become one of those people who like to run. You know the ones ... the one's who run 15 miles before breakfast and describe it as peaceful and energizing. Don't get me wrong ... I really admire those people and wish secretly to possess their superhuman powers, but I certainly don't get them, and I won't ever be one of them. Of course I once said that about the "excersing people" too, and now I've joined their ranks so I guess you can never say never right?
Anyway, I do run on a treadmill a few times a week, mainly as a quick and simple way to get a cardio workout in. I do it sometimes to challenge myself to see how far I can make it before my bad knee starts tweaking, or before I get bored and want to do something else. I have completed a 5k on a treadmill a few times. Every time I was proud of myself, and every time it was real hard. So when I decided on a whim to run in this particular 5k race ... my first ever REAL 5k .... I had exactly 48 hours to prepare mentally and physically. I figured the physical part would either be there or not, and as far as mental preparation? Well if I could survive the "IKEA Screaming Babyathon Challenge" without murdering anyone the day before, then I figured I was mentally tough enough to tackle 3.10 miles ... no matter how ugly it was.
Oh, and it was pretty ugly. My goal was to finish under 35 minutes and without stopping. I am proud to say that I finished in 33:03 (about my average) and I never stopped running. YAY.... goodie for me! However, it was ugly nonetheless. I'm not used to running outdoors .... with hills ... and heat .... and wind .... and tree roots unleveling all the sidewalks. My breathing was as shallow as Paris Hilton and my stride as unbalanced as a two-legged tripod. When the lady pushing TWO children in a stroller passed me in my last mile, I regretted not pulling a "Rosie Ruiz" early on and at least experiencing a few passing moments of glory before being shamed for life. Regrets aside, and with much perseverence, I did finish, and I was thrilled. And as ugly as it was, I am so glad I did it. I will even (gasp!) try it again sometime. If for no other reason than to get the free pizza and donuts at the finish line. What? Spectators get those too?!?!? Well forget it then.
THE AWESOME!!! (BONUS SECTION)
As long as this blog has already become, I couldn't finish telling you about my weekend without telling you about the best part of it. I know The Awesome wasn't a part of that Clint Eastwood movie title, but really this was truly THE AWESOME!
So I shared the ugly truth about my 5k on Sunday, but what I didn't mention was the fact that my 8 year old daughter Isabella, ran the 5k too! Her first as well! She is an amazing athlete who loves any kind of athletic challenge. She is a runner too. At another annual race, she has run and won the 1 mile race for her age group two years in a row, and she does seem to have unlimited wealth of competative reserves. She is simply put ... a MACHINE!
So she and I agree to take on this 5k challenge together. As daunting as I felt about it, I knew this would be a tough challenge for her. She's never run any distance over a mile and half and she was BY FAR the youngest runner in the race.
Well imagine my surprise and immense pride when she finished in front of 75 other runners to finish in under 30 minutes at 29:42, and well before yours truly!!!! She was inspirational! Crying the last 100 yards, but yet increasing her pace by double, she sprinted to the finish line amongst hails of cheers and applause. She did it! She was AWESOME! Her dad and I couldn't be prouder. And not because of her fast time .... but because she accepted and completed a tough challenge willingly. It was hard as heck for her and yet she perservered AND EXCELLED. She is truly in the game of life full out and it rocks! FYI, this is one of the best realizations you can have about your child!
Although in the moments following her finish, she understandibly swore to never run another 5k again, she has since amended her stance, and already wants to beat her time next year! Hmmm, I think she might just someday end up being one of those people enjoying their relaxing and energizing 15 mile morning runs. As long as she returns to share in my "tea and snuggle time!"
IN CONCLUSION
Is there really anything else to say? I've blabbered on forever here. I think I might have already just set my own unbreakable record for longest blog ever. However, one last thing before I go ... and this one I really couldn't categorize in anyway that would do it justice. Just know that I capped off my weekend Sunday night with what had to be the most riveting couple of hours of television ever! I watched Mega Shark vs. Giant Octopus starring Deborah (Debbie) Gibson and Lorenzo Llamas (with a southern accent!) on the Sci Fi channel. I'm truly sorry if you missed it. It really was the height of filmmaking, surely never to be exceeded. When the Mega Shark jumped out of the ocean and ate an airplane right out of the sky, well I knew this was a made-for-tv movie for the ages. It was the perfect summation of The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly (and Awesome!) Quite simply, it was the perfect ending to my perfectly, not-so-perfect typical weekend. I just have one question ... is it October 2nd yet?????
MEOW!
Heck, you could even combine the three. Just lock yourself away in the bathroom and tell your family that you are having "stomach issues" and "you might be awhile"! Then grab a sandwich and either a portable device or hard copy print-out of the blog and relax. Anyway, wherever you decide to read this ... you have been warned. This is gonna be long.
THE GOOD
Don't even get me started on the fact that after going back to school on Monday, the school committe in my town thought it would be a good idea to give the kids Friday off ... effectively creating a four day Labor Day weekend only four days after school started up again. What? The teachers need a break already???? HELLO! I just got these kids out of my house after 3 months. What kind of sick joke was this really? Well since I would have probably been arrested for dropping my girls in front of their schools and driving off, I decided to let them stay home with me and the baby on Friday.
The day itself was fine with the kids - gym, lunch, park, etc. But Friday night is where things got good. Not good as in my single-college-days type of good. But good in a mid-to-late-thirties-with-kids type of good. Friday night was the type of night all of us moms get excited about - a highlight in our month that we look forward to from the moment the last one ended. The night where we leave our families behind for a few hours, actually wear clean clothes, put makeup on and brush our hair. Yes, Friday night was my GIRL'S NIGHT OUT!!!!
Nothing gets a mom more giddy than knowing there is a girl's night out coming up. For me and one of my closest friends, our girl's night out is usually the first Friday of the month, and September 4th came right on schedule!!! Yeehaw! Now as I intimated in the last paragraph, our girl's night is not quite the same at our station in life as it might have been 15-20 years ago. No, no crazy drinking parties playing strip poker, or dancing on tables at a dive bar, or rocking out until sunrise at a disco. No crazy adventures eluding the cops, or drinking margaritas at a male strip club. Nothing like that. Not that I would even know what that stuff would be like. Noooooooooo, not me, I was a saint! I just heard rumblings from friends about that kinda stuff. Yup .... ahem .....
.... Anyhooo .... moving on. The point being is that the definition of a girl's night out has changed with age and the amount of dependents we claim on our taxes. Nowadays, it really doesn't take that much to get us excited, or make us feel like we are getting craaaaaazzzaaaay. Heck, most times, we don't even make it out of a 5 mile radius from our homes. Does this make us old farts? You betcha!
For us, our girl's night usually starts with a long and leisurely dinner with drinks, where we can actually .... you know .... TALK! Truly, such a novel idea when you are used to grabbing dinner together with all the kids in tow. Between the yelling at the children to "sit down" "stop climbing under the table" "use your restaurant voice" "eat your food or no dessert" or taking them on their third trip to the bathroom in a half hour, there is usually very little time left to say 10 words to each other ... and those are only curse words whispered under our breathes anyway. Yes, uninterrupted conversation between myself and another adult is such a luxury that I will literally hold a full bladder of pee for HOURS, just so we can keep talking.
So dinner and drinks it usually is, and was on Friday night, followed by yet another prized luxury in our lives ... the child-free trip to Target!!!!! I can't even begin to explain what getting a half- hour of peaceful browsing through our favorite store is like. For the men out there, I'd imagine it is the mom version of what you dads might correlate to being home alone with no wife or kids, and discovering that its a free preview weekend of Cinemax!!! Just wow!
First off, we don't need to push a cart. We can walk freely and uninhibitedly through clothing racks, touching and caressing the clothes we usually only get to glance at quickly from afar. We can wander by the toy section without the impending sense of doom that our children will start begging for every item they see ... usually trying to convince us that because London Tipton has it, so should they. We can wander up and down the housewares department with gay abandon, picking up a picture frame here, or a plasitc container there. It's all so lovely and quiet! Of course, and this is probably the biggest and sickest irony of the whole Target without children experience - the only item my girlfriend and I walked out of the store purchasing, was something for our kids. Sad I know, but at least we picked it out on our terms, damnit!
Our girl's night out usually ends the evening with a movie ... preferrably an R-rated movie with no talking animals or 3D glasses... oh and the more dirty language the better! Our last three movies we saw before this Friday were Step Brothers, The Hangover, and The Ugly Truth. Yes, we cherish the opportunity to see something base and raunchy that may even (gasp!) have male frontal nudity! So what if we are already blushing nervously during the Previews when those dang AXE Cologne ads come on? Have you seen those? Seriously, they are pornographic for cripes sakes! But we persevere, cause we old farts with little kids need to keep it real sometimes, and any Judd Apatow movie usually does the trick! HOLLA!
Well this Friday night we went for a tamer PG-13 selection and saw All About Steve. Cute and silly movie, but really the only reason we chose it was because after The Hangover, we realized Bradley Cooper is WICKED HOT!!!! Hey, we mom's need our eye candy too!
So Friday night ended, and I returned home to a quiet and sleeping house ... more relaxed and rested, and not even thinking about our next scheduled Girl's Night Out on October 2nd. Then Saturday came ....
THE BAD
So the early morning was pretty normal actually. Woke about 6:30-7am. Enjoyed my tea in bed while my kids came and snuggled one-by-one with me. Pretty awesome actually. I love my morning kid snuggles ... and am especially receptive after a Girls Night Out!
So seemingly off to a good start, I decide that Brody, my 15 month old little dude, would enjoy a bath. He loves baths actually and although his favorite part is taking plastic cups, filling them with water, and dumping them out on the bathroom floor, I was feeling extraordinarily patient and forgiving. So I threw caution (and my OCD tendancies) to the wind, and lined the floor with towels and proceeded to hand over TWO plastic cups to my little rapscallion. Yes he happily splashed and dumped water on the floor as usual. Yes I was soaking wet and not minding it too much, but that is when things changed for the worse. About the time I was washing his hair, I noticed Brody fighting me more than usual. He would crawl away to the far side of the tub and precariously attempt to stand up and away from my cleaning and rinsing cup. I was getting frustrated as I was having a hard time getting the shampoo out of his hair without it going in his eyes, while I was simultaneously worried he would slip and fall and hurt himself. Brody was just getting mad. After another minute of this power struggle, he turned red faced and screamed ... and that's when I realized ... he was "dropping a deuce" in the tub!!! OH NO!!!! The dreaded poop in the tubwater scenario! A first for Brody, but after two other kids, certainly not a first for me. However, unlike my girls' sweet little hard tootsie rolls that were fairly easy to catch and dispose of, darling little Brody was leaving me more of the chocolate mousse variety!!! ACK! And it was coming and still coming!!! What did this kid eat for breakfast?!?!?!
I screamed out the window to hubby who was working in the backyard to let him know of my predicament. Did he come running to my rescue... to help with either the poopie retrieval or to hold the poopie covered and very slippery baby while I recleaned the tub? Um that would be a negative. I was on my own, just me, the baby and the crap. Bad times.
However, with all the patience and creativity I had in me, I was finally able to get the baby out of the water, holding him while I caught all the poopies, drained the tub, cleaned out the rest of the poopies, refilled the water, cleaned off the poopie-covered baby, and then put the baby back in the tub for bath number two! AH HA! But not before hubby finally came to my assistance! Yes, my knight in shining armour appeared for 10 seconds to hand me some paper towels and leave again!!!! Really? How gracious of you! Seriously, how will I ever repay that type of kindness? Hmmm .... let me think ....
So that was the first sign that it might not be a great day, but I put the "dooker in the tub" episode behind me and moved on, hopeful for better things that day. While Brody napped and the girls played out the backyard with hubby, I even started to recapture some of that early "tea and snuggle" feeling. I decided that when Brody woke up from his nap, I would take him to IKEA for a few hours while hubby continued to work on his backyard project. A little outing with just the baby and I ... you know to be sure there were no lingering hurt feelings from our little incident in the tub. It all seemed to be a great idea on paper; Daddy gets his project done, girls get to play outside, and mommy and baby head off for the hour drive to the Swedish Mecca.
But as they say in football ... thats why they play the game !!!
Not 15 minutes into our little road trip, Brody's happy demeanor turned into a mild crabiness, which within another 5 minutes turned into a full fledged meltdown. I'm talking sweaty, red faced, kicking and screaming meltdown. The kind of screaming that creciendos into volumes so loud that you have to roll your car windows up in traffic before someone calls DCYF on your ass. I thought perhaps pulling off at a rest area for a little drive-through snack would settle things down. I thought wrong. He threw a chicken nugget so hard at my head that I'm pretty sure the Baltimore Orioles would make him their 5th starter.
It was also about this time that he started with the hyperventilating. Oh God how I hate the hyperventilating! It makes me feel so bad for babies when they get going like that. They have no idea why they can't breathe, and they're too young to coach them through it. I kept telling myself that if I could just get to IKEA, I know he would stop. He just wanted out of the car and out of the car seat.
Either Brody was still bitter at ME for the tub incident, or he has something seriously against the Swedes, because well... I was wrong again.
We arrived to a full Saturday afternoon parking lot which didn't offer up too many easily found spaces. Do you know how stressful it is to look for parking in a jammed lot, with a screaming and hyperventilating child in the car? Well, trust me, its like the Mt. Everest of stress!!! Every ounce of patience I had stockpiled from my Girls Night Out, was not only depleted, but was building debt quicker than the Economic Stimulus Plan.
I think I finally "car stalked" a family from the IKEA door to their car and gave them the hairy eyeball as they unloaded an entire house-full of "assembly required" furniture into their SAAB at the pace of my 5 year old getting ready for bed.
When I finally got into a space and looked back at the Martian in my son's car seat, I was certain better times were before me. Well color me shocked when taking him out of his car seat, still kicking and screaming, didn't stop him. Or the hugging and rubbing his head and trying to soothe him. Or the putting him in the shopping cart. Or stroller. Or carrying him. Or rocking him like a newborn.
As I approached the door to IKEA in hopes that seeing the bright sparkly lights of the world's biggest baby maze would shut him- er ... I mean soothe him, I saw the fear of God on the watchful faces of the other shoppers entering the store. "That woman is NOT going to be briging that screaming tazmanian devil into the store IS SHE????" I smiled pathetically. I tried putting Brody down on the floor ... you know ... to crawl out his troubles. Give him a sense of freedom. Nope. Nuthin'. He screamed louder and held his arms up to me pleadingly. I felt bad. Awww he just wants his Mommy, or so I thought until I picked him up and he began to swing at my head in furry. He seriously wanted to kick my ass!
Good Lord and Mercy Me! I just drove an hour here with a screaming child, only to get in the door five feet and realize I had to now drive back home an hour with a still screaming and seriously ticked off 15 month old. An even more terrifying thought ... I had to put him back in his car seat!!!!
(help me mama)
So back to the car (and that parking spot I worked so hard for dang it) I went, and now those horrified faces on strangers turned to sympathy. I was not getting any meatballs today.
So about 20 minutes back towards home, Brody finally screamed and hyperventilated himself into a sleep coma. He fought it - boy did he fight it. But it finally overtook him, and soon his adorable sweaty pink face was finally sleeping peacefully. I however needed Advil and a stiff drink .... and definitely a bathroom. Did I happen to mention I had to pee this entire time too? Unfortunately all of these things ended up having to wait until I got home, but what couldn't wait was a stop to gas up. As I cut the car motor at the pump, I glanced in the rearview mirror like a speeder looking back in fear that the cop they just whizzed by wouldn't hit the siren and come after them.
PLEASE DON'T LET THE BABY WAKE UP!!!!
No such luck. He woke up. DANG IT!
Much to my surprise and delight however, was that the alien that had possessed Brody and had screamed non-stop for nearly two hours strait, had been replaced by the sweet and happy son I once remembered. Brody was quietly babbling and smiling while grabbing his feet playfully. Well I'll be. Remind me to ask his pediatrician how early bi-polar disorder can be diagnosed.
I finally returned home, exhausted and nursing a helluva headache, but with a baby as happy and contented as the one I left with. I have of course vowed never to take Brody to IKEA again. He's not even allowed to LOOK at the catalog!
THE UGLY
(are you still with me???? Better stretch your legs now!)
So Saturday mercifully behind me, and now came Sunday. Did I mention that on Friday I agreed to run in my first ever 5K race???? I didn't? Oh yes, because I had tried to forget that little fact all weekend, but now was the day ... the day I put my pride on the line, and attempted to run 3.10 miles .... outside, away from a treadmill, and in front of other people! What was I thinking people!?!?!
Let me just say that although I have become one of those "excersing people" I used to mock, I am not, and will never be, a runner. My knees are too bad, my heart and lungs too weak, and my mind not nearly focused enough to ever become one of those people who like to run. You know the ones ... the one's who run 15 miles before breakfast and describe it as peaceful and energizing. Don't get me wrong ... I really admire those people and wish secretly to possess their superhuman powers, but I certainly don't get them, and I won't ever be one of them. Of course I once said that about the "excersing people" too, and now I've joined their ranks so I guess you can never say never right?
Anyway, I do run on a treadmill a few times a week, mainly as a quick and simple way to get a cardio workout in. I do it sometimes to challenge myself to see how far I can make it before my bad knee starts tweaking, or before I get bored and want to do something else. I have completed a 5k on a treadmill a few times. Every time I was proud of myself, and every time it was real hard. So when I decided on a whim to run in this particular 5k race ... my first ever REAL 5k .... I had exactly 48 hours to prepare mentally and physically. I figured the physical part would either be there or not, and as far as mental preparation? Well if I could survive the "IKEA Screaming Babyathon Challenge" without murdering anyone the day before, then I figured I was mentally tough enough to tackle 3.10 miles ... no matter how ugly it was.
Oh, and it was pretty ugly. My goal was to finish under 35 minutes and without stopping. I am proud to say that I finished in 33:03 (about my average) and I never stopped running. YAY.... goodie for me! However, it was ugly nonetheless. I'm not used to running outdoors .... with hills ... and heat .... and wind .... and tree roots unleveling all the sidewalks. My breathing was as shallow as Paris Hilton and my stride as unbalanced as a two-legged tripod. When the lady pushing TWO children in a stroller passed me in my last mile, I regretted not pulling a "Rosie Ruiz" early on and at least experiencing a few passing moments of glory before being shamed for life. Regrets aside, and with much perseverence, I did finish, and I was thrilled. And as ugly as it was, I am so glad I did it. I will even (gasp!) try it again sometime. If for no other reason than to get the free pizza and donuts at the finish line. What? Spectators get those too?!?!? Well forget it then.
THE AWESOME!!! (BONUS SECTION)
As long as this blog has already become, I couldn't finish telling you about my weekend without telling you about the best part of it. I know The Awesome wasn't a part of that Clint Eastwood movie title, but really this was truly THE AWESOME!
So I shared the ugly truth about my 5k on Sunday, but what I didn't mention was the fact that my 8 year old daughter Isabella, ran the 5k too! Her first as well! She is an amazing athlete who loves any kind of athletic challenge. She is a runner too. At another annual race, she has run and won the 1 mile race for her age group two years in a row, and she does seem to have unlimited wealth of competative reserves. She is simply put ... a MACHINE!
So she and I agree to take on this 5k challenge together. As daunting as I felt about it, I knew this would be a tough challenge for her. She's never run any distance over a mile and half and she was BY FAR the youngest runner in the race.
Well imagine my surprise and immense pride when she finished in front of 75 other runners to finish in under 30 minutes at 29:42, and well before yours truly!!!! She was inspirational! Crying the last 100 yards, but yet increasing her pace by double, she sprinted to the finish line amongst hails of cheers and applause. She did it! She was AWESOME! Her dad and I couldn't be prouder. And not because of her fast time .... but because she accepted and completed a tough challenge willingly. It was hard as heck for her and yet she perservered AND EXCELLED. She is truly in the game of life full out and it rocks! FYI, this is one of the best realizations you can have about your child!
Although in the moments following her finish, she understandibly swore to never run another 5k again, she has since amended her stance, and already wants to beat her time next year! Hmmm, I think she might just someday end up being one of those people enjoying their relaxing and energizing 15 mile morning runs. As long as she returns to share in my "tea and snuggle time!"
IN CONCLUSION
Is there really anything else to say? I've blabbered on forever here. I think I might have already just set my own unbreakable record for longest blog ever. However, one last thing before I go ... and this one I really couldn't categorize in anyway that would do it justice. Just know that I capped off my weekend Sunday night with what had to be the most riveting couple of hours of television ever! I watched Mega Shark vs. Giant Octopus starring Deborah (Debbie) Gibson and Lorenzo Llamas (with a southern accent!) on the Sci Fi channel. I'm truly sorry if you missed it. It really was the height of filmmaking, surely never to be exceeded. When the Mega Shark jumped out of the ocean and ate an airplane right out of the sky, well I knew this was a made-for-tv movie for the ages. It was the perfect summation of The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly (and Awesome!) Quite simply, it was the perfect ending to my perfectly, not-so-perfect typical weekend. I just have one question ... is it October 2nd yet?????
MEOW!
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Back To School Time! (AKA: The reason I'm smiling today!)
WOOOO HOOOOOOOO!!!!!!
Ahem... excuse my sudden burst of enthusiasm, but I gotta say that as a first time SAHM (remember what that is right?) this summer with school age children, I am pretty dang happy to have seen them off this week. You see I was a working mom for nearly all of my two daughters' lives. They are true daycare babies by nature and are used to spending their summers at daycare in their separate age groups, even if it was just after-school care as was the case with my oldest daughter the last few years. The point being that my girls have never ever spent so much time together as they have this summer and besides almost killing each other on numerous occassions, they came perilously close to being left in the "Critterworld" exhibit at the Museum of Science. I'm pretty sure I could have convinced security that it was an honest mistake on my part.
Don't get me wrong, I love summertime (a lot!) and I love being able to spend time with my kids in the summer especially. We had trips to the beach, the pool, grandparent's house, the amusement park, the go-cart track, the zoo, a few spot weeks of camp, and the previously mentioned Museum of Science just to name a few. Minus a few instances and embarrasing public scenes, most were generally fun and fulfilled the cherished "quality time" benchmarks. However, keeping an 8, 5, and 1 year old entertained for three months is not an easy task as I quickly discovered. I'm new to this being home with the kids all day thing people, and this entertaining crap gets expensive!!! Especially when you don't have that second income anymore. Seems like a sick catch 22 to me. More time, less money .... GO!
Now I know that there are SAHM's who are experts, and have all this "shiz" figured out. They get really creative, and fill their days at the park, at storytime at the library, or (gasp!) teaching their kids to cook and other really hands on stuff. Honestly, I tried these types of things (well maybe not the cooking), but it never seemed to work out. The park was a washout in June and part of July when we here in New England, were treated to Seattle's weather system for 45 days. And then as soon as the rain stopped and the sun DID decide to join is, it came out guns ablazing and with 98.8% humidity. Its not so fun taking your kids to the park at 7:00am in the morning, trust me.
The library for me was like taking monkeys into a china shop. I didn't know how quickly it would all come crashing down on me, but I knew it was going to happen. Brody, 15 months, playing in the very small children's toy area, decided to bulldoze every single Lego tower the other kids built. Needless to say, he was not making friends and continually removing him from the area made him errupt into pitch perfect meltdown after pitch perfect meltdown. The ladies in the library were not amused either. My oldest, Isabella who is 8, is pretty good in the library... by herself. However in combination with her sister, Isabella seems to go into pre-teen drama queen mode. I know her sister pushes her buttons all the time, but Bella hasn't quite learned how to take her "power back" and control her reactions. Guess she needs some more Oprah.
Speaking of her five year old sister ... besides her pestering of Bella, Sophie doesn't understand the concept of "quiet" ... anywhere! Sophie has two volumes ... loud and obnoxious. So picture two fighting and screaming girls over by the Junie B. Jones section, and a baby cutting his detructive path through other kids' Lego masterpieces, dashing their future architecture dreams for good. Then you understand why the library doesn't work for me, and why the bottle of Pinot later that night did!
Park and Library and other like activites behind us, I was basically reduced to keeping them in perpetual motion all summer long. Stimulating them in any way I could find. Whether the girls were boogie boarding on Block Island, or the baby was in the stroller at the zoo making animal sounds for three strait hours, we did it. And we paid for it. And we kept doing it and paying for it every week.
But to my dismay, it became a bit like shaving your legs ... once you start, you have to shave all the time. As I found out early on, those days where an "outing" was just not gonna happen, I was subjected to hours of "I'm bored" and "I'm hungry," interjected occassionally by screaming, yelling and crying. It was as if my girls completely forgot how to quietly entertain themselves for a few hours. I had created a couple of monsters!!!
So yes, although we had an amazing, memorable, experience-filled (and expensive) summer, I have been left exhausted with kids who can't seem to sit still for more than 5 minutes without complaint (unless their eyes are trained on the TV of course). So when they went off to school this past Monday, you might understand how relieved I really was. My wallet isn't moaning anymore, there wasn't a single "I'm bored" or "I'm hungry" to be heard all week. And wouldn't ya know, I haven't heard the Spongebob theme music for 3 days. Must be a record!
Did I mention it was Sophie's first day of Kindergartern too???? Oh yeah that. Maybe it was the years of daycare in combination with our hectic summer schedule, but where other moms might have been wiping their tears away as their child got on the bus for their momentous very first day of school ... I was smiling. Proud and sentimental yes, but smiling still nonetheless. Summer can stick around all it wants, but this mom is glad summer vacation is OVAH!!!!
MEOW!
Ahem... excuse my sudden burst of enthusiasm, but I gotta say that as a first time SAHM (remember what that is right?) this summer with school age children, I am pretty dang happy to have seen them off this week. You see I was a working mom for nearly all of my two daughters' lives. They are true daycare babies by nature and are used to spending their summers at daycare in their separate age groups, even if it was just after-school care as was the case with my oldest daughter the last few years. The point being that my girls have never ever spent so much time together as they have this summer and besides almost killing each other on numerous occassions, they came perilously close to being left in the "Critterworld" exhibit at the Museum of Science. I'm pretty sure I could have convinced security that it was an honest mistake on my part.
Don't get me wrong, I love summertime (a lot!) and I love being able to spend time with my kids in the summer especially. We had trips to the beach, the pool, grandparent's house, the amusement park, the go-cart track, the zoo, a few spot weeks of camp, and the previously mentioned Museum of Science just to name a few. Minus a few instances and embarrasing public scenes, most were generally fun and fulfilled the cherished "quality time" benchmarks. However, keeping an 8, 5, and 1 year old entertained for three months is not an easy task as I quickly discovered. I'm new to this being home with the kids all day thing people, and this entertaining crap gets expensive!!! Especially when you don't have that second income anymore. Seems like a sick catch 22 to me. More time, less money .... GO!
Now I know that there are SAHM's who are experts, and have all this "shiz" figured out. They get really creative, and fill their days at the park, at storytime at the library, or (gasp!) teaching their kids to cook and other really hands on stuff. Honestly, I tried these types of things (well maybe not the cooking), but it never seemed to work out. The park was a washout in June and part of July when we here in New England, were treated to Seattle's weather system for 45 days. And then as soon as the rain stopped and the sun DID decide to join is, it came out guns ablazing and with 98.8% humidity. Its not so fun taking your kids to the park at 7:00am in the morning, trust me.
The library for me was like taking monkeys into a china shop. I didn't know how quickly it would all come crashing down on me, but I knew it was going to happen. Brody, 15 months, playing in the very small children's toy area, decided to bulldoze every single Lego tower the other kids built. Needless to say, he was not making friends and continually removing him from the area made him errupt into pitch perfect meltdown after pitch perfect meltdown. The ladies in the library were not amused either. My oldest, Isabella who is 8, is pretty good in the library... by herself. However in combination with her sister, Isabella seems to go into pre-teen drama queen mode. I know her sister pushes her buttons all the time, but Bella hasn't quite learned how to take her "power back" and control her reactions. Guess she needs some more Oprah.
Speaking of her five year old sister ... besides her pestering of Bella, Sophie doesn't understand the concept of "quiet" ... anywhere! Sophie has two volumes ... loud and obnoxious. So picture two fighting and screaming girls over by the Junie B. Jones section, and a baby cutting his detructive path through other kids' Lego masterpieces, dashing their future architecture dreams for good. Then you understand why the library doesn't work for me, and why the bottle of Pinot later that night did!
Park and Library and other like activites behind us, I was basically reduced to keeping them in perpetual motion all summer long. Stimulating them in any way I could find. Whether the girls were boogie boarding on Block Island, or the baby was in the stroller at the zoo making animal sounds for three strait hours, we did it. And we paid for it. And we kept doing it and paying for it every week.
But to my dismay, it became a bit like shaving your legs ... once you start, you have to shave all the time. As I found out early on, those days where an "outing" was just not gonna happen, I was subjected to hours of "I'm bored" and "I'm hungry," interjected occassionally by screaming, yelling and crying. It was as if my girls completely forgot how to quietly entertain themselves for a few hours. I had created a couple of monsters!!!
So yes, although we had an amazing, memorable, experience-filled (and expensive) summer, I have been left exhausted with kids who can't seem to sit still for more than 5 minutes without complaint (unless their eyes are trained on the TV of course). So when they went off to school this past Monday, you might understand how relieved I really was. My wallet isn't moaning anymore, there wasn't a single "I'm bored" or "I'm hungry" to be heard all week. And wouldn't ya know, I haven't heard the Spongebob theme music for 3 days. Must be a record!
Did I mention it was Sophie's first day of Kindergartern too???? Oh yeah that. Maybe it was the years of daycare in combination with our hectic summer schedule, but where other moms might have been wiping their tears away as their child got on the bus for their momentous very first day of school ... I was smiling. Proud and sentimental yes, but smiling still nonetheless. Summer can stick around all it wants, but this mom is glad summer vacation is OVAH!!!!
MEOW!
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