Me? A Runner?

Today I signed up for what will be my 3rd 5k.

When I signed up I had two choices...I could go for the untimed noncompetitive 5k and do a walk/run combo or I could sign up for the timed 5k run.

The rules are very clear.

If you sign up for the competitive/timed run...there is no stopping to walk.

So, which one do you think I signed up for? The reasonable one? The one that most fits my fitness level? The one where I CAN WALK IF I NEED TO?!

No, no I did not.

Am I nuts?! Probably.

The thing is, I don't consider myself a runner. And I will admit that, in my 2 event 5k history, I haven't trained at all.

Well, I'll tell ya what. Today I started training. Because I'm scared.

So, I'm sure you're asking yourself...if I know this is nuts, why did I do it?

I'll tell you why I did it.

I did it because I know that I have absolutely no chance at being the best or winning. In fact, I'm probably going to come in last. And because I need to learn to be okay with that.

I stop myself from doing things I want and need to do because I'm not as good as another person who does it.

I need to beat my mind and body into submission so that I don't stop working/serving/loving because I don't do it as well as somebody else. I need to learn that it's still worth the effort.

I'm going to train and prepare my mind and body for this race.  And I'm going to give it my best shot. Whatever the end result of that is, I'm willing to accept it.

My Conspiracy Theory Concerning Socks

Sometimes I wonder if there is a secret sock tax that the government imposes by way of our dryer...or maybe they steal OUR socks and distribute them to their employees as part of their benefits package.

If I suddenly go missing you'll all know that I stumbled upon the governments secret sock plan....and that if you want to protect your socks...don't put them in the dryer!! :)

Or maybe there's some magnetic balance in the world that must be maintained by socks...and when there are too many socks in the world they gravitate toward a black hole until the balance is restored.

I'm just kidding. The constant stream of missing socks is quite frustrating but I'm not really a sock conspiracy theorist.

Although I would like to know where all the socks have gone.

Loser or Not?

I haven't been being as open about my weightloss/or lack thereof lately. I'm not sure what that means.

I do have my reasons.

Out of the past 5 weigh-ins I've gained 3 times. I was not emotionally ready to share that information. Because while most people mean well and are encouraging...there are the people who think I've gone back to my old habits and lecture me about what I'm doing wrong. And when you're working hard it's difficult to have someone tell you that you're doing it all wrong...especially when they don't know what you're doing at all.

Last weeks gain, I'm pretty sure, was the result of a heavy workout schedule. I hadn't worked out like that in a couple of months and restarting always makes me gain.

But, I have to admit, these past two weeks have been challenging for me. Trying to figure out what's going on and rededicating to everything and assessing to find areas where I need improvement.

Today and last week are the first time in the past 13 months where I've been tempted to not weigh-in. I did weigh-in last week and I will weigh-in today.


I am scared today. I'm afraid of the emotions I'll feel if there's another gain. Afraid that I AM going to fall off the wagon and just go back to my old habits. Afraid that I'm going to be stuck here and give up and not lose anymore or get to my goal weight.

Because I have to admit...I'm shocked that I've made it this far. I honestly don't think that I thought I ever would. I think I thought that I'd be fat for the rest of my life.

It's scary. I'm scared. I know that a gain would just provide me with an opportunity to grow...and I want to grow.

So if God has a gain for me today...then I'm (trying to be) okay with that. I want what He wants for me.

I just hope he wants me to lose! and not gain!

The Voice of Truth

I won't bother telling you that I'm at the end of my rope. I've become convinced that only God really knows that information.

I will tell you that I am sorely incompetent.

Today, after having to discipline one my kiddos, my fear and unworthiness and just plain ignorance and lack of know-how and my loathsome parenting/being a person skills overcame me.

I think I might have actually completely freaked them out.

All I could do was sit there and cry and beg God to help me.

I want to show them Jesus. I want to display the gospel to them with my life. I want to be the strong mother and role model that they need.

But I'm not. I'm just not.

The other day I wrote a few of the areas I fall short in, but the truth is, there aren't ANY areas where I don't fall short.


But I am hopeful. I know that God can work in my life. He has. I reached this point about my weightloss a little over a year ago and He has done WONDERS in that area of my life since then.

He has blessed me beyond comprehension. I am thankful.

I need Him. It is abundantly clear. I need Him.

Praise God for His mercy and grace!

It's The Little Things

You know how when you're a kid you can't wait to grow up? You day dream about how glamorous it will be.

My imagination went something like this...

I would get married when I was 14 (because 15 is WAY too long...you're an old maid by 14 and 1/2).

I'd spend all day every day kissing my husband or waiting to kiss my husband (but I somehow managed to keep an impeccable house and make gourmet meals).

When he drove up in the driveway I'd rush to the door with his slippers and pipe in hand. I'd kiss him and lead him to his chair by the fire, hand him his pipe (I don't know where the pipe came from...I don't even think I've known a man who smoked one!), take off his shoes, rub his feet, put his slippers on and then rush into the kitchen to put a perfectly cooked roast on the perfectly decorated and set table.

Then we'd sit down to dinner and he would exclaim over the roast while I served him dessert (probably some 90 layer cake with some ingredient that I had to hike across Death Valley to get...all without breaking a sweat or smudging my bright red lipstick).

Somehow in all of this I managed to be a nurse and save the lives of my patients...for some reason the doctors were never around in my imagination.

Ha! It's funny. I now think 14 is too young for anything.

Michael doesn't smoke a pipe or wear slippers. We don't have a chair by the fireplace or even a fireplace. I do rub his feet sometimes but definitely NOT everyday.

He does tell me that my roast is his favorite but my table isn't decorated, unless you count mismatched dinner plates and silverware placed in the general vicinity of the plate.

I can barely make a cake at all, and 90 layers are definitely OUT OF THE QUESTION...as are ingredients I can't get at Walmart or Costco.

The only nursing I do is cleaning and putting a band-aid on the occasional skinned knee. There definitely aren't any doctors around...but I'm pretty sure I couldn't save anyone's life.

Yeah, my life is glamorous though.

Today we totally went and got four new tires put on our suburban. And then we got pizza at Costco.

When I'm Not Feeling It

I'm not feeling very spiritual. I haven't been for the past few days.

I love God and I haven't lost my desire to love people as a result of that love. But I'm just not feeling close to God.

I know it's my own fault. But I kind of feel like when you can sense something is wrong but you can't put your finger on it? That's how I feel.

I know, I know. I'm using the word 'feel' and 'feeling' a lot and that's probably one of my problems. Because with a stinky thyroid like mine...sometimes I feel like I want to punch people in the face. But alas, I must restrain myself.

Maybe my whole problem is that I'm relying on my flesh to fuel my spirituality. Ugh.

Or maybe my hormones are just in the slump part of my cycle and in a few days I'll feel all sunshine and roses and singing in the streets again.

I guess I better feed my spiritual wolf...because right now it feels like the flesh wolf is winning and that's not a victory to be celebrated. Maybe that's the whole problem...I'm starving my spirit.

So, I guess I better go cook up a big roast beef dinner for my spirit.

Any good recipes or cheesy metaphors to inspire me?!

Sometimes I...

It's so easy to only show the positive side of things online...obviously we all want to put our best foot forward and we want everyone to think the best of us.

Yeah, nobody follows "the letter of the law" but I certainly want you to think I do. I want you to know all the good things I do and I want to hide all the garbage in my life. So, for the sake of really being honest and portraying a balanced (well, ya know) view of my life...

Sometimes I don't feel like unloading the dishwasher so I pretend I forgot to run it and run it again.
Sometimes I stop working out in the middle of a workout.
Sometimes I sleep in and let my kids watch cartoons on Saturday morning.
I absolutely would not want you to look inside my fridge right now.
I've been on day 24 of the FlyLady BabySteps for like two weeks now.
I pretty much only straighten my couch covers when someone is coming over.
I'm behind on laundry right now and I'm folding socks just in time for my kids to wear them.

And now...for your reading pleasure (or maybe not...remember how I said this is a blog to read if you want to feel better about yourself? I'm pretty sure a monkey could write better poetry...but hey...I'm putting myself "out there"...where ever "out there" is. I thought about writing Michael a poem...but then he really dislikes my poetry so it would be more of a present to NOT write him one! So I wrote one about the laundry.)

Ode to Laundry

Laundry you lie there

a cowboy at dawn
walking ten paces
gun swiftly drawn

You lie there and grow
like a bowl full of yeast
You smell and consume
like a big burly beast

Someday I'll conquer
this challenging foe
The floor in my laundry
refreshingly show

So I've Been Nominated for (Worst) Mother of Year (more like, Millenium)

So today is Michael's birthday. And since he's such a nice (or should I say manly? I've heard men don't like to be called nice or sweet...hm?? Where's Dr Laura when I need her?) husband I thought I should go out and find him something nice (err...manly?).

So I did. And then, just to torture him I TOLD him I did.

So I headed home and stopped at a fruit stand, on the way, to pick up a snack for the kiddos.

At this point I was feeling very confident...I'd get home in plenty of to pick up the house and get ready for the kids to arrive.

So I pull up into the driveway and see that the garage door is open.

We've had our share of thievery so my heart skips a beat at the thought of all of our kids bikes being stolen.

I stop and turn the car off and happen to look in my rear view mirror.  Across the street on our Elisabeth's little pink bike is a little girl (baring a stark resemblence to Elisabeth herself).

And then I remembered.

The kids had a minimum day today...which means they had been home for almost an hour.

I panicked and ran into the house...where the kids sat watching a movie as if there were absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. One was even DOING HIS HOMEWORK.

There are a million things that could have gone wrong. But they didn't.

God was definitely in my house today. I guess He must have figured that with a mother like me He better pay extra attention to these wild indians.

Oh and we have an ongoing battle for who can get the most pieces of ice into this particular cup...Nathaniel just beat mine...he fit 40 cubes into the cup!

Yeah, pretty sure that makes us redneck.

Lessons Learned (Errrr...LearnING)

I don't know the exact date or how long we had been married. I can't even remember the person or specific circumstance...but I can tell you the exact words that I said and Michael's eye opening response to me.

It's really pretty ridiculous and I'm embarrassed to share this with you...but for the sake of authenticity...I'm going to.

A few years ago, as Michael and I were leaving some social event, I complained to him that someone (most likely female so I'll probably refer to this person as a "her" even though I don't even remember who it was) hadn't spoken to me.

Now, I'll stop right here. We had been married for a while because I'm pretty sure that all five of our kiddos were in the car...so Michael had probably heard similar nonsense from me on too many occasions to count. I'm extremely over analytical and I am constantly looking for proof that people don't like me.

Anyway, in response he says (very nonchalantly) "well, did you talk to her?".

Okay, at this point I was in shock. I probably replied with something similar to..."are you taking HER side?" and then I'm sure I started crying and Michael wished he'd kept his mouth shut. I shudder at the memory.

I have to admit...I was completely shocked by the question. You mean, it works BOTH ways? They don't have to come to me?! And if they don't it's NOT necessarily a slight?!

Huh. Whooda thunk it?! I obviously didn't.

I don't know why this was so eye opening for me or why I had never considered it before. I guess it was just selfishness.

And even though I'm sure Michael doesn't remember asking the question or my resulting tantrum (do you remember each speck of sand?) I really appreciate him asking it.

While I won't say I've never felt slighted since...or been selfish in social situations...it made me aware.

It made me aware and much more compassionate because if I could be that ignorant about something so obvious then maybe when someone else does something thoughtless, or even rude, they are honestly just oblivious and they really don't mean anything by it.

It's made me much more optimistic in relationships. I spend a lot less time wondering if people like me and looking for the evidence either way. I assume (or at least TRY to!) of other people what I hope they will assume about me...because really...there are NOT enough hours in the day to analyze everyone's words and actions and love them too. And that's what I want to do...love people.

How to Know If you Should Skip Your Neighborhood When Trick Or Treating

I think in most neighborhoods there's one neighbor that lives to the beat of their own drum. Who lives outside of the pressure to keep their lawn perfectly manicured, and embodies the character "Pig Pen" in the general upkeep and appearance of their home, and general lifestyle. 

Well, in OUR neighborhood, WE'RE the ones. 

There are 7 houses on our block, and all of them have their lawn mowed by a certain "yardman" in a little rickety truck. He does every house on our block, except ours, and it's obvious.

So there's that. 

And there's Elisabeth.

Elisabeth is the incarnation of what it would look like if God used this recipe to make a person: a field full of wild flowers, aurora borealis, an awesome piece of music that you can't help dancing to, and a mischievous little puppy. 

Elisabeth picks our neighbors unripe fruit and flowers, climbs their trees and plays in their yards uninvited and unaccompanied. She leaves her toys in their yards so it looks like they have messy kids (none of them have kids...messy or otherwise), which totally ruins the look of their perfectly manicured lawn.

And she just got a bike. So all of this will be done at higher volume and frequency. 

She does all of this with a song on her lips, dance steps instead foot steps, in her princess dress of choice for the day and the make up look she chose and applied using permanent markers (that won't come off for at least a week!).

I DO try to keep a handle on her...but she's fast...and quiet. And I have a bazillion OTHER kids to distract me! Seriously, if NASA needs some help with their stealth research...Elisabeth is an expert.

So trick or treating in our neighborhood is kind of tricky. I'm kind of afraid the candy will be laced with Ritalin or something. 

Not really...we just encourage Elisabeth to choose a full body costume wherein she is unrecognizable.

:) I'm kidding about the costumes and ritalin. 

Her sweet little freckle face is the absolute cutest! And I love her so much. She makes our life more interesting and I wouldn't trade her for any other, less active and less imaginative little girl. 

                                                    Photo courtesy of Alisha Hurt Photography
And who knows?! I said that I would be open to anything and everything that God has for me. Maybe He's using Elisabeth to prepare me for a career in the circus. 

A Magic Mirror (Random and Shabby Attempt at Poetry #2 :)

Words rejected, hang in mid-air
He says I am beautiful but do I dare?
believe his eyes telling me so
crosswise, adverse from what I know
is painfully true and frightfully right
I walk rather quickly away from the light
Afraid he might notice, afraid he will see
the truth in my mirror, the plain that is me.