Changing The Way We Feel

Changes come in so many forms.  Divorce is really only one small part of the changes in my life lately.  But it seems to be the biggest.  I don't know if it's a midlife crisis kind of thing or what, but this new life has me pondering a lot on stuff.  Big stuff.  Like way big stuff.  Spiritual stuff, and personal stuff, and family stuff, and greater-than-me-or-anything-I-could-ever-imagine kind of stuff.  It's weird.  I'm in a weird mood.  And I'm also lacking spell check at the moment, so there's a good chance there will be lots of misspelled words.  Like misspelled.  Is that how you spell misspelled?  Now misspelled is looking weird no matter how I type it.  Sort of like when you say "though" a whole bunch of times in a row, it sounds weird. 

But I digress. 

Changes.  Yes.  I think we're all creatures of habit.  We like our comfort zones, we like autonomy, we like, dare I say it, monotony.  I know I do.  But it seems that lately everything, every day, in fact, is a fly by the seat of my pants kind of day, and it's getting exhausting.  I'm debating if I should take a digital diet.  You know, a day with no phone, no computer, no tv.  Could it even be done?  I doubt I could do it.  My phone is my lifeline.  I feel like I am working constantly, (which I am), and my phone keeps me tied to that.  I love my jobs, I truly do.  (I think I spelled truly right, didn't I?  I hate it when people spell it truelly.  Ugh.  So annoying.)  I love being crafty all day, and making people beautiful all night.  In fact, making women feel beautiful has become sort of a passion of mine.  Changes, you know.  Women need changes.  We need highlights, and layers, and therapy.  I hope I can just be a small part of that.  But as I've gone through all these changes, one thing I continue to come across is women with beauty issues.  We have the hardest time telling ourselves, and believing, that we're beautiful.  Why?  Ladies!  Stop it!  You are all beautiful!  Why can't muffin tops be sexy, you ask?  Well, they are.  Embrace it.  Why are wrinkles a sign of old age?  They aren't!  You earned them through years of smiling and laughter and tears and stress, all of which make you the amazing women you are.  It's all about the changes through life.  Divorce, marriage, children, stress, happiness, all sculpt and form you into wonderful people. 

Embrace the change.  It's the only constant we can count on, right? 

Finally

Well, it happened.  The divorce is final.  It's weird that it's over.  We were engaged to be married just about the same amount of time it took for us to get divorced.  I find that funny.  Not like ha ha funny, but like that's interesting funny.  I have to say, I miss marriage.  The normalcy of it all has left a huge void in my life.  I miss Sean and the way we were friends.  I miss having the family life that seemed so perfect.  But I don't miss the faking it, and the working endlessly at it, and the trust issues.  So all in all I think it is a good thing.  My new normal is still sinking in.  I still sometimes refer to myself as "we", not because of the voices in my head, but because "I" was "we", inclusive with Sean and the girls.  There is a lot more I've learned to do on my own.  Things that are hard, things that are easy, and things that I never had any idea I could do at all.  Those are all empowering things, I think. 

I've tried very hard to avoid being bitter about any of this.  I have good reason to be, and so does Sean.  I think we've succeeded so far, at least on the surface, but it has to start somewhere, right?  I debate even blogging about it, because divorce is such a personal situation and it is borderline private, even for me, who has a penchant for spewing forth every detail of my soul.  I do know that I will not drag anyone through the mud on this blog, myself included in that.  I am as much to blame for this as anyone else, and I totally own that.  I will remain focused on what makes me happy, and how my life will change as the months and years go by.  Just promise me you'll bear with me as I make those changes and start documenting all these new thougths and feelings as I go. 

Trust me, it will be worth it. 

I'm Sure You're All Wondering

I'm here.  I promise.  I haven't dropped off the face of the earth, although sometimes it feels like I have.  I have sort of become like a pioneer these days.  Except I have a car.  And I don't wear bonnets and crappy dresses.  But, since I don't have TV hooked up yet, or internet installed yet, and I'm building fires each morning to keep me warm, I totally feel like a really modern pioneer. 

The truth is, I'm working my ass off.  Literally.  I've lost 14 pounds since the divorce began.  Now there's a good diet, though I don't really recommend it.  I work at the salon in the mornings, and then I'm doing training in the evenings until 11:30 ish.  5 days a week, people.  That works out to be about 60 hours a week.  That is crazy.  Take that, and add on the flu, and boy howdy, I'm pretty much a mess. 

Thankfully I have this super short lesbian haircut to cut down on my "getting ready" time, which has really come in handy. 

As for life these days, each day is different.  Fly by the seat of my pants.  I miss the kids in my home every day, but we're all adjusting okay I think.  I miss the life I had before, but I'm enjoying the empowerment that comes from doing things myself, albeit hard and tear-filled most of the time.  I miss my mom daily, more now than ever I think, but I'm so grateful for my siblings and my dad and Noma.  They are all truly a blessing in my life.  I know they have a hard time with the situation, but they take it all with a smile and a knowledge that I've always been a free spirit, and this is no different.  They just support me,l and that's what I need. 

I hope you're all doing well, and I promise I will keep up better on the blog.  At least on my good days. 

Happy Days To Maggie

On October 7th Maggie had a birthday!  And got baptized the very next day!  I admit, it's hard doing the regular family things that normal families do when ours is so very different from what it used to be.  But it doesn't change the fact that I love my Maggie like crazy, and I'm so proud of her and the decision she made to get baptized.   She has great teachers, and Sean really worked with her to prepare her for the actual baptism.  She was pretty nervous about going under the water. But it all worked, and she did a great job. 

Now she's 8, I can't believe it, and she is just a sweet little lady. 

 All of us just moments before she was baptized.  I don't know what I'm doing leaning in like a dork, but the picture taker lady kept saying to squeeze in.  I think we had plenty of room.  ;)

Maggie and her dad.  She looked so sweet and innocent that day, as she does every other day of the year of course! 

Congrats to Maggie and a very happy birthday to her!  I love you, Moots!

Polar Opposite

You know what?  I think I might be bipolar.  No, for reals.  Like some days I'm on a super high high, and some days I just feel like I can't take One.More.Freaking.Thing.  Is it just me, or does everyone get like that?  

Oh, it's just me.  Great.  

But really, I think I'm doing okay considering all the changes that have happened the last few months.  I have a job(s) that I love, I'm doing what I love, and I'm happy in most areas of my life.  I've learned I have great kids, the best kids a gal could ever ask for, and that they are super strong.  My family is amazing, and even through all the change, they realize I'm still pretty much the same old me, just version 2.0, or something close to that.  

Divorce is never easy, neither is marriage.  I don't recommend divorce to most people, but if it's what will make things better in the long run, it's fine.  And it's funny how at the mention of the word "divorce" people instantly perk up; if they've been divorced.  Now I'm part of some weird club that I never knew existed and I can be among peers that have all been there done that.  It's nice.  But strange.  

I'm glad to know that I have great friends, and a great family, and great kids.  I truly am blessed, even through so many hard things. 

Doing It

You know, it's hard getting divorced. It is. You'd think I would have realized this before, but until you're in the middle of it all, you don't realize all the crap that comes along with it.

This has nothing to do with me and Sean, we get along well, it has more to do with me. I've been taken care of most of my life by someone else, and I've taken it for granted all these years. This is the first time in about 20 years that I've had to stress about money and time management, and calling here and there and making sure this and that get taken care of. I've said it before, and I'll say it again....

Being a grown up is hard.

But there is an upside to all this. I feel pretty empowered knowing I can do these things on my own. The first time I used my very own debit card, and it worked, I nearly cried. The first time I called about a bill that had been paid but not shown as such, and got it taken care of, I nearly yelled in victory. I can do this. I can. I can. I can.

I keep telling myself this over and over and over.

I have to remember that there is a plan in store for me. I have hopes and dreams, and I'm not letting this little bump in the road ruin it for me. It might take me longer to get where I want to be, but I know I can still do it. And even though it's hard right now, I know it won't always be this way. This too shall pass. My mom told me this as her wise sage advice before she died, and it has become my mantra these last few months.

I'm glad to see how much my family cares about me and how much they support me. I'm lucky to have great friends who give me motivation to keep it up and keep moving forward. I'm glad I have great kids that handle this well, and will talk to me about it. And I'm glad for all the lessons I've learned up to this point in my life to prepare me for this. It's all about the plan, and doing it.

Big D

Well, I'm sure the news has made it through most of the family and friends by now.
Remember how I said things were changing up? Boy howdy, are they.

Sean and I are getting divorced.

I know, I know, pick your jaw up off the floor. It happens, people. Trust me, we have worked our butts off for years making it work. But honestly, the time comes when there is just no more to give, and it's time to cut your losses.

We are great friends. Always have been. Since Kindergarten, in fact. But sadly friendship doesn't always a great marriage make. We've known for a long time that things were "off", and we've even been separated a time or two. I'm sad to have to put this all out there, but I also need to get it out of my head, because as my loyal readers know, the voices, oh! the voices, they can really be annoying.

The kids are doing okay. I think they were surprised to hear it, but not really that surprised, since they had seen us drift apart over the past few months. I'm heartbroken that they will be children of divorced parents, but I'm also empowered knowing that they can see that as adults you can still communicate with each other without fighting, and that they can still be the most important things in our lives. I hope they know how much I love them.

There is obviously more going on here than I care to discuss on the blog at this time, but trust me, I can't keep anything inside for very long, so eventually it will all come out. Just do me a favor, and be supportive, mmkay? I need to hear that it will all be okay, and that I'm still a good mom, and that my kids won't be sociopathic screw-ups because their dad and I couldn't live together.

Changing Things Up

Sometimes things need to change. Not a matter of if, but of when. And sometimes those changes come at a price. Sadly, this is when you find out who really loves and supports you, and you find out who could care less.

Turns out I have a pretty awesome group of people that love me and support me.

I'm pretty dang lucky.

I'll post more details when I'm ready, but know that although so much has changed, there is still so much the same. Day to day stuff is the same. Kids are the same. Everything is basically the same. I'm still the same. But a few things are different, and it was time.

Baby?

What is it about puppies and babies? My heart melts. I love them. But a baby isn't something I'm game for right now, so it looks like a puppy won out.



Welcome John Wayne. He's our new beagle. He's absolutely adorable, and I'm pretty sure he's a genius. He can already go up the stairs, jump from couch to couch, and goes right in his kennel and curls up for the night. Those are all things Bebe, our stupid Shih-Tzu could never do.

I was worried that the first night or two would be rough, with a lot of whining and crying, but he only cried for a minute before we remedied that with a night light. Not too shabby.

Now on to potty training. Oy. Not a lover of this phase, especially with all the rain we're having lately. But at least it's not winter, so I don't have to stand out in the snow! Hopefully he'll feel my angst and pick right up on it. Beagles are notoriously smart, and notoriously stubborn, so we'll see which attribute wins out first. Let's hope for smart.

Open Dialogue

Around our house, we keep a very open dialogue about things. We've always taught the proper names of body parts, and keep a light yet educational mood when it comes to learning about life and our bodies.

Especially now that I have a Tween.

We tend to throw the word "Vagina" around a lot in this house. I mean, with 4 girls around, it tends to come up now and then. It comes up in the strangest places, though. Some of you know that my minivan is nicknamed the Vangina. So the kids sort of call it that, and I chuckle every now and then. Then there's the time Maggie and I were learning about China. Somehow it turned into VaChina. Yeah, so there's that. Then there's the time Maggie spilled water on her seat in the Vangina. She said it went onto her vagina, and asked if she watered it, if it would grow. That girl, she kills me.

Well, last night, Gretta got on a roll. She repeatedly had to go through the family stating who had a vagina. It was pretty hilarious, and I didn't want to scold her because I don't want her to think it's wrong, especially considering it's the correct term and all. But I don't want her to think she can just say it whenever she wants, because I know other people might not be as open about things as we are.

But for now, I'm just enjoying the innocence of a little one, and the fact that she's smart enough to know who keep the vaginas around here.

Well, The Food Storage Came In Handy

So you know that the world ends on Saturday, right? Yep, it does.

I'm currently finishing up my bucket list before I kick off this sad planet and jettison somewhere much more happening.

At least I got to see the season finales of most of my shows. That's a bonus.

I've had some seriously great family time the last few months, that should tide me over for a while in the hereafter.

Dang, I had just gotten a decent clientele at work. Oh well. Whaddya do?

My food storage situation is golden. I'm pretty sure we could go 2 more days on our stores of noodles and beans.

We don't have any student loans to pay off, so that's good. Or not good. Eh, either way, I guess.

I wish I'd been able to enjoy better weather before I head into the blinding white of heaven.

I might not be going to heaven. Hmm. I should work on that. Maybe I can cram for the next two days and just skim by.

I hope they have bowling in heaven. And ice cream. And coke. And books.

I guess mostly I'll try to make the best of the next couple of days, and live like I was dyin'. Did you see how I channeled Tim McGraw there? Yeah, I'm that awesome.

Mother Of The Year

One thing I've learned as I've gotten older is that I'm pretty good at being me. I might not be what others expect, but I'm me, and I'm happy with that. I'm a good wife, a good worker, and a good mother. I mean, so far I've raised 3 daughters, and none of them have died of neglect. Yet.

I do fall into the trap of comparing myself to those around me. Probably more often than I should. And I never measure up to what I think they are. But then I remember that I'm me, and I'm the best me I can be.

The other day, I was watching Studio 5, a local crappy TV show. It's basically a crappy Mormon Mommy Blog on the air. They have their fair share of "How-To's" and Fauxlebrities. This particular day, they had on Justin Hackworth. Or as I like to call him, Nie Nie's personal photographer. He takes all her pictures. He does a great job. He has recently done a project where he photographed mothers with their daughters. It was lovely. I wish I had lovely pictures of me and my mom together. But his project was a perfect segue into the next topic, which was Mother Of The Year, and Young Mother Of The Year.

My jaw hit the floor as I was so stunned that there was actually a contest for this title. I thought it was pretty clear that I already held the title. So I had to keep watching, just to see what it was all about. Apparently there really is a contest for MOTY and YMOTY. Governor Herbert appointed these women, and I had to keep watching to see how fabulous they really were.

Well.

I'll focus on the Young Mother here, just because I can relate to her more, seeing as I'm still young and whatnot. She is beautiful. Smart. Obviously a loving mother. Mormon. Blonde. Blue-eyed. Soft-spoken.

I'm all those things. Well, except not blonde anymore.

I waited to see what set her apart from all the other young mothers I know. She had a baby that died at birth. I have a friend who had that happen. Tragic. She has a husband who at a young age suffered a stroke. I have a friend who had that happen as well. So tragic. She reads scriptures to her children daily. I know lots of people that do that. She reads books to her kids. Check. I'm still sort of at a loss as to what makes her so spectacular?

And mostly I'm wondering why in the Hell someone would take a job as tiring, rewarding, personal, and intimate as motherhood and make it into a competition? Aren't we already hard enough on ourselves without being compared to those around us? Can't we all win our own personal MOTY awards?

This really got me riled up, and those of you that follow me on FB know this. I was quite offended. Not that I wasn't chosen (duh), but that so many of the wonderful amazing mothers I know weren't chosen. I feel like all of you deserve a MOTY award. We all have our own crap to deal with, and so many of you handle it with grace and dignity. I want to go down a list of qualities in my friends and readers that I admire, and that make you all Mother's Of The Year in my eyes.

Some of you are or do the following:

• Patient to no end with your children.
  
• Conscious of making sure your family eats healthy most of the time.
  
• Run crazy lives.
  
• Run literally. Miles and miles.
  
• Battle cancer and win!
• Deal with hardships repeatedly and quietly.
• Work and go to school and mother.
  
• Work full time as the family's supporter.
  
• Take in children that belong to others, either short term as babysitting, or long term as foster parents.
  
• Drive old beater cars so your kids can be involved in sports or dance or whatever.
  
• Reach out to help neighbors and friends without even being asked.
  
• Sacrifice anything to stay with your children.
  
• Make life lovely along the way.
  

Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not bashing on the YMOTY. She deserves recognition. But so do the rest of us. I don't want to see motherhood become another tool of superiority. There is no perfect mother. There isn't. Even my own mother had her faults. And those faults are what make us all wonderful and special and deserving of our own awards.

So to all you mothers out there, you all win the Mother Of The Year award in my eyes. Keep on doing what you do best!

Curses

This is a totally judge-free zone, mmmkay? Just so we're clear, I've never made any innuendo that I am actually mother of the year, it's merely a sarcastic joke. You'll see what I mean in a sec.

My name is Keli, and I'm a cusser. (This is where you all say "Hello, Keli," and nod your head approvingly at my desire to bear my soul to you.)

It's true, you know. I'm a cusser. I always have been. I remember distinctly the very first time I said a cuss word. I was in 5th grade. And it just came out. Just popped right out! I was as shocked as my friend that was on the receiving end of it. It was just a "damn", but it was significant. I still remember what it felt like, where I was standing, and even the book that was on the desk in front of me.

But honestly, 5th grade? Why was I even aware of cuss words in 5th grade? I have one answer to that. It's in my genes. My grandpa was a cusser, and my dad was a cusser. I don't think I heard my mom utter more than a few curse words in her life, and most of them were due to my misbehaving and they were usually muttered under her breath. But me? I just have it in me. It's not something I'm proud of.

I have made concerted efforts repeatedly in my life to overcome my curse word affinity, but I always fall back into the same patterns. It doesn't help that I have a bad temper. Those two character traits seem to feed on one another.

So why am I telling you this, you ask? Because I have become very aware of my use of curse words, and my bad influence on people (Jill). My kids notice, and say, "Mom, you shouldn't swear!" And I say I know, but I'm a grown up, blah blah blah. But that's no excuse. So mostly I'm just putting this out there to have it as a record for myself. I need to stop cussing. I need to work on controlling my anger. I need to be a better example to my kids and to certain people. (Jill).

Remember, this is a judge-free zone. I don't need snarky comments about how you never swear and people that do have an obviously lacking grasp of the English language, otherwise they could come up with better words than curse words. I need comments letting me know I'm not alone in my cave of curses, and that you totally get where I'm coming from, because you yourself find comfort in an occasional curse word, especially when your kids have been working your last nerve all day, and you JUST CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!

See? Mother of the year, indeed.

That's what I need.

All About Women

*I apologize for the length of this post sans pictures. Mostly it's just for my memory purposes. If you don't care to read all the way through, I totally get that.

Last week I had the privilege of not only attending, but being a part of, Women's Conference at BYU. I had been asked by a good friend and bowling buddy to help with the service project part of the conference. Being the giver that I am, I was anxious to help.

Let me say that I have never expressed any interest in Women's Conference. It's not something I would ever do on my own. It's just not my personality to want to better myself, or become more prepared. How can one improve upon perfection? Now if they offered a class in awesomeness, I would totally take that class. Are you sensing my sarcasm here? Because I want that to be abundantly clear. Okay.

So we had agreed to help with the Newborn Kits part of the Service Project, and attended meetings to prepare us for the work ahead. The humanitarian center people kept reminding us that it would seem a daunting task, but the women would come, and we would prepare adequate amounts of kits. We trusted them.

So Wednesday night, we headed to BYU to prepare our stations. We assembled 1,000,000 boxes. Okay, I might be exaggerating there, but it seemed like a million. I think it was somewhere around 5,000. Each box we assembled was to hold 8 newborn kits. You do the math. That's a lot of newborns getting needed supplies. We worked hard all night getting prepped. Around 10:00 we headed home, exhausted and bruised.

Thursday morning we woke up early to head to the conference. One benefit of being a volunteer is a free admission to the whole conference, so we thought we should take advantage of a few of the speakers. The first class I attended was called "Rising Above Depression". Although I remain medicated, I still struggle with symptoms of depression, and I thought this might be a good way to get a new outlook on treatment. The first speaker was excellent. She spoke about her lifelong struggle with her own depression, and even though she is well-educated, most of her life went by as if she was in a fog. That really resonated with me. She didn't get treatment and medication for her depression until her late 30's, and now she knows how hard it can be to overcome. Her thoughts were very practical; medication, therapy and a strong support group are all essential to overcome depression. The second speaker wasn't my favorite. She basically summed up her talk by saying if you're more grateful, serve more, and pray more you won't be depressed. Um, yeah, that doesn't always work. So I got a good 50% uplift out of that class.

The next class was about ordinary women doing extraordinary things. It was great. The first speaker was eh, not great, but the second speaker was phenomenal! I could have listened to her for the whole hour. I wish I was more versed in who I should and shouldn't try to fit into the packed class schedule, but next time I go, I'll definitely look her up.

That night we had the actual service project. We gathered at 4:00 for a team meeting and final preparations. The project was slated to begin at 5:00. 5:30 rolls around, and we're barely finding enough women to staff 1 station. We had 6 prepared. It wasn't looking good. I was so afraid that we'd be stuck filling all those kits on our own. But sure enough, just like the humanitarian center people promised, the women came, and before we knew it, the place was emptied out. If you want to see a great slideshow, including a rather unnerving close-up of yours truly, you can see it here. It really shows the scope of the project.

We ended the night exhausted, but very fulfilled. Honestly, I think I got more uplift from doing the service project than I did from the classes. There's just something about working physically hard, and going to bed completely beat, but knowing you've made such a difference, that makes you feel closer to God.

I'm so grateful to Tammis for asking me to be one of her helpers. I know that I was lead to be on her bowling team so this could all come about, and not just for this purpose. Tammis and Calleen have become very close friends of mine that I might otherwise never have had the pleasure of knowing. They are strong women who make me want to be better. I'll have a good bowling post coming up soon, so you'll want to stay tuned for that.

The Secret Is Out

Well, the secret is out. And guess who's pregnant? Nope, not me! Ha ha ha, I bet a few of you were thinking it, though, right?

We had a trip planned to Disneyland for 2 months, and we didn't tell the kids! It was so fun having such a big secret from them, knowing how excited they would be about it! We had told them we were spending a week at Aunt Jill's, and they were pretty darn exited about that, so when we told them we were really going to Disneyland, they were even more thrilled.

If you watch the video, you can see the reaction. I'm sure glad I taped it for posterity.

So enjoy the plethora of pics!



We got to ride in the VERY front of the monorail. With the driver. It was pretty cool. Literally. He had the A/C blasting in there!



And who needs to buy those pics of yourself as you plummet to near death when you can just take a crappy cell phone picture of the screen? Notice Emma's face. And notice Maggie is crying her guts out. She was super brave, and went on Tower of Terror twice!



Ahh, Goofy. Gotta love him.



And Space Mountain. I love the look on Maggie's face. This ended up being our favorite ride. We loved it! The FASTPASS thing they have going on at Disney is such a good thing. No lines, or very little wait time, and it was pretty crowded since it was Spring break!

So check out the video. I had it all ready to go and was expecting a huge reaction from the girls. Needless to say, I had it a little overdone in my head, and I didn't get exactly what I thought I'd get from them.

We had such a good time. We were exhausted every night. Saturday morning I had to drag everyone out of bed at 6:30 so we could do an early entry at 7:00. I knew it would be so worth it to get there before everyone else. It totally was! We did Space Mountain and Dumbo and Matterhorn without waiting at all. Totally a good plan. But that afternoon we bailed early and headed back to the hotel for a rest and some swimming before spending a very late night watching fireworks and riding rides until midnight.

I'm so glad we got to do this with our kids. We told them that when dad graduates from law school, we'll go back. By that time, Emma will be, gulp, 16! Hopefully they'll still want to go at that age!

I Have A Secret

Boy, howdy, do I have a secret. I am dying, DYING, I tell you. I can't reveal this secret until Thursday, and it's killing me. I've known for months now, and I just can hardly even wait 3 more days.

I'm so excited!

It's like Christmas, but better, if you can believe that!

If there was punctuation more exclamatory than an exclamation point, I would be using that instead of a measly little exclamation point. The exclamation point just doesn't do this secret justice. And also, exclamation point is nearly impossible to type correctly on the first try. Go ahead, try it. I screw it up every time.

But back to my secret. I have been so good holding it in. I haven't slipped once yet. But Sean, he is gonna blow it if he doesn't get his act together. I think certain people might be on to him, so he really needs to watch what he says for the next few days.

He might be more excited about this than I am.

But for now, I love that I have a secret, and I can't wait to see the looks on people's faces when they find out what it is!

Crap I'm Doing

I feel like I should really be posting more, and as much as I hate to say it, I've just been really busy.

Lame excuse, I know.

Really, though, I have been busy. Work is crazy, but in a good way. I love my job.

Home is crazy, but all in a good way.

Sean just finished up his last semester at LDSBC, and will be starting at the U on May 16th. He has about 43 semester hours left to get his Bachelors degree, so about 3 semesters, which is like crazy fast.

I've been going through a creative phase lately, and have taken to doing various projects of no importance. I did refashion a couple of pairs of jeans from boot cut to skinny, which is super easy to do, and makes me feel like I got a new pair of jeans without spending a dime. Winning!

I have also started crocheting, which I learned for Activity Days, and I really love it. Maggie has taken to it as well, and has made lots of projects. I started a baby blanket, but now that I look at it, it sort of starts to shrink toward one end, so I need to revisit that situation.

We made some cute skirts with pockets for my nieces. Maggie also got one, and Gretta and Emma each have one coming. I also made some cute ties for my nephews, and they should be getting them soon. Emma has become quite the little seamstress.

Reading this post makes me sound like I'm living in Walnut Creek or something, but really, it's just a phase. I get this way. Soon it will be gone. Such is life.

I'll get some pics posted soon enough so you can all see the crap I've made, because I know how interesting that can be.

What I Did This Weekend

Warm weather was calling. I had no choice but to give in. All the stars aligned, and my entire family was able to descend into the red rock valley to enjoy some serious pool/running/biking/baby loving/ time.

Maggie and Eli inserted themselves into the heated pool, and didn't emerge for the entire day. That is not an exaggeration. The.Entire.Day they spent swimming and jumping and splashing. They were sunburned and exhausted. It was awesome.



Emma was a little more trepidatious about getting in, but once she did, she was in heaven. I think she spent most of the afternoon running between the pool and the trampoline. She doesn't sunburn, lucky girl, so now she just has a gorgeous tan going on. With that blond hair, I'm in trouble in her teen years, I'm afraid.



Sean and Jill chatting it up in the wonderful huge kitchen. This house was amazing, and there wasn't a shortage of space for all 21 of us. Now that's saying something. We had a huge breakfast on Sunday morning, and Sean and Jill somehow ended up being in charge of it. Hmm, I think that might have something to do with the bacon that was involved.


Poor Meg. She's not this blurry in real life, I'm pretty sure. I sort of just called her name and clicked this picture. He he he. Sorry Meg. She has one of the 2 cutest babies to ever grace our family this year. Elliott loved the ceiling fan in the living room, and even though she was spitting up quite a bit, there was never a moment when she wasn't being held and cuddled by someone in the family. She is growing so fast, and I love her so much, I could just eat her!

We had such a good time. I spent all day Saturday lying by the pool with my Hawaiian Tropic oil slathered on, and a cold ice water next to me. Around 5 o'clock, I got showered and dressed so we could start dinner. I was pretty burned, but I knew it would turn into a tan. It has. But I also had to show off for some teenage boys, and pull out the magnificent backflip skills I acquired as a kid. Turns out, that trampoline doesn't have the appropriate amount of bounce it takes to propel my large body backwards and completely around. Things didn't go so well. I've been walking around like a robot, unable to turn my head for 2 days. But it was worth it. I should just learn that I'm meant to be a pool side tanner, not a back flip trampoliner.

Schooling At Home

I thought I better write something about our homeschooling. I know so many people are interested in how/ why we do it, and I forget sometimes that not everyone understands the draw behind our decision.

Maggie has pretty severe anxiety, and though it is much better now that it has been, public school just wasn't working for her. She was a great student. Quiet, obedient, and never a trouble maker. But she also got overlooked a lot because of her sweet demeanor. You know, the squeaky wheel and all that jazz.

So we homeschool now, and have been for almost a year. We chose to use Washington Online School, which uses the K12 curriculum. The reason I chose this was because I felt like I needed a little bit of structure to my homeschooling, at least at first, and this provided exactly what I needed. We have a schedule of lessons, and though we can do them as fast or slow as we'd like, there is a time line that most parents follow, that coincides with the public school schedule. We basically do school every day, though there are some weeks when I just don't get to it every day, so we make up a lot of days. Ahh, flexibility.

School takes us anywhere from 15 minutes on an easy math day, to over an hour on a more intense reading day. Maggie chooses what she wants to do each day. Some days we only do math. Some days she only wants reading. Some days she wants to do every subject. We have the flexibility to do that. Sort of like public school. They don't do every subject every day, at least not in elementary school.

I know some of you are like, "but what do you do with her the rest of the day?" Good question. I let her learn. She is so good at learning, she does it without even knowing it. Today for example, she printed off some pages of a story book of pictures, and then wrote the words to the story. She made it all up, and it was great. She uses big words, which I don't remember teaching her, and she does this all on her own. She also watches a lot of TV. Yeah, I know. Mother of the year here, but it's good TV. Granted, there is plenty of Disney Channel on at my house, but there is also a lot of Martha Speaks, and Word World, and NatGeo, all of which are great learning opportunities without the kids even realizing they're learning.

I know a lot of moms that say they couldn't be around their kids all day, and that sending them to school is a way to stay sane. I totally get that. There are plenty of days when I just want some alone time, or time to do the laundry or dishes, or even to sweep the floor and have it stay clean for more than 3 minutes. But I consider myself pretty lucky that for the most part, I love being around Maggie. She is silly, and talented, and very easy to hang out with.

I've tried to talk Emma into doing homeschool next year, but she has no interest in it, and I'm fine with that. I loved middle school, and I know she will too. I also have no qualms about sending Maggie to public school if she ever wants to go. It would be a hard transition for me, but we'll cross that bridge when we get there.

So that's how we do it. It's fun, and it works for us. I know it's not for everyone, but when it comes to knowing what your kids need, moms have a gift for giving them exactly what will make them become the best people they can be. And if homeschooling is it, then so be it.

The Eastern Ones

Friday night we decided it was time to actually go out and do something fun. I don't know what it was about this last week, but it seemed particularly brutal. Not for any specific reason, just generally busy and crazy, but that's nothing new around here. So we thought we'd treat ourselves to something we'd never done before.

We hooked up with some friends, whom we've been trying to get together with for months, but things just keep coming up. They are great fun, and they like Indian food. So we went along, because we're sheepish, and we follow what our friends tell us to do.

I'm asking you, why haven't we had Indian food until now? Why? It's delicious! Emma's best friend in Chicago was Indian, and we had dinner with them once, and she made pizza. Indian food fail. But this time, I actually went out on a limb and ordered something I knew would look disgusting, but it was delicious. Chicken Saag. Mmmmm. Green slimy cooked spinach with chunks of chicken over basmati rice. A little Naan, and I was good to go!

Problem with Indian food is that although delicious and very aromatic, the spices infiltrate your clothes and leave you and all your accessories smelling like Indian food. My phone smelled like it the next day. My necklace did too. Weird.

So next time we go to Taste of India, I'm wearing a rubber suit, and ordering the Chicken Saag with cheese Naan.

Green River

3 years ago this day, my family flew out to Chicago so we could spend a girls weekend together. It was such a fun trip! We went to the city and saw Wicked, which would be awesome anywhere, but thanks to my snafu, we got to take a tour of the theater before the play started, so that made it even better. We rode the Metra to town, and at 10:00 in the morning, people were already dressed to the 9's in green couture, and guzzling beers like they were going out of style.

It was good times.




We ate at Peterino's, one of my all-time favorite places, and grabbed some Garrett's popcorn to munch on for the train ride home. We indulged in Chicago style pizza, tres leches cake, and great Mexican food. We worked out with the neighbor ladies, and watched Gracie take a couple of her first steps. It was such a fun weekend.

We also got to see the Chicago River turned green. It's amazing to see. It's not just a grayish icky green like you'd imagine, it's bright green and shocking. My mom thought that was pretty cool.

This weekend holds special significance to me, because this was the last weekend I saw my mom healthy. When I vacationed back to Utah that June, she was already feeling sick, and then in 6 short weeks she was gone.

I'm so grateful I had this weekend with her. She got to see where we lived, and that we were adjusting fine. She got to see the kids and see that they had made friends and were doing well in school. I think that really helped her, knowing we were okay that far away.

She was an amazing lady, and I know that now more than ever. I miss her everyday, but today I miss her more, thinking back on that fun day in Chicago when she out-speed-walked us all to catch the train, and her laughing at the caricatures on the wall at Peterino's.

More Medical Things

Below is a pretty graphic image. I have to give you fair warning. If you have a weak stomach, don't bother scrolling down.

Maggie had an ingrown toenail removed 3 weeks ago. It was infected, and the podiatrist went ahead and removed the ingrown part, and chemically "killed" the matrix on that part of her toe to prevent it from growing back again. A simple in-office procedure that took about 30 minutes.

He said after 2 weeks, it should be fine, but during that time, it would look red and weepy. It did. We did the required daily soaks in Epsom Salts, and changed the bandage. Things were looking good, according to what he told me.

After 2 weeks, I went to change the bandage. I admit, I hadn't changed it the day before, but since it was nearly healed, I didn't think too much about it. When I removed the bandage, I was shocked with a horrible smell. Not like a stinky foot kind of smell. A rotting flesh kind of smell. Then I peeled off the bandage, and saw a red, wet, swollen toe, with flesh peeling off.

It wasn't pretty.

I was pretty sure it wasn't supposed to look like that. So I took Maggie into her pediatrician. He was shocked with what he saw. He immediately took a swab to send off a culture, and ordered a shot of Penicillin. He also prescribed 3 times daily oral antibiotics until we could get the culture back and see exactly what we were dealing with.

I was pretty scared. He said it was probably just a Staph infection, but he needed to make sure it wasn't Pseudomonas, a more serious problem.

The next day, it looked worse, more flesh peeling off, and the smell. Oh! The smell! So I took her back in, and sure enough, he needed to drain it off, and give her a betadine soak to kill off some the the infection. He said he was certain at that point that she would lose her nail, possibly permanently, and if if the culture came back with the Pseudomonas, we would have to talk about possibly taking the toe.

Wha????

You can't wear flip flops (thongs) without a big toe!

So the next day we get the call, and sure enough, it's Staph. Phew. A huge sigh of relief. Now it has been a week of antibiotics, and I'm glad to report it looks so much better. The nail is still hanging on, and the skin isn't wet and red. It has taken on a more crusty brown color. But that's what we want.

I'm glad she gets to keep her toe, because I hate bending down to tie shoes, especially in the summer.

Scroll down for the before picture. It's pretty nasty. It was taken the first day in the doctors office. The second day pictures are much worse. I'll spare you those images.

Buy Local

As a small (very small) business owner, I have first-hand knowledge of how important it is to buy locally. I've taken to spending more money in small one-man-band sort of shops rather than Wal-Mart, though I do still have a love-hate relationship with the Mart. I hope the shop owners appreciate this, because I know I sure appreciate the clients that bypass the various chain hair chop shops to come and see me, and keep me in business.

So in this vein, I decided when it came time to order new business cards, I would get away from the generic Vistaprint cards I've used in the past, and try a local gal that does great work. She has designed my sisters baby announcements, (the pictures came from here, she's my cousin, and very talented. Seriously, click those links, you won't be disappointed, I promise.) and she has always done a wonderful job. Plus, then I don't end up with the exact same business cards as two other gals in my shop. True story. Lame.

These are the finished product. I love them. They are cute, but not cutesy. Fun, but not immature. And this time they have all the correct information on them. My Vistaprint cards were ordered before the website, and before I had a physical address I wanted to advertise. These are much better.

So remember, there is always someone you know that has a talent they are trying to pursue. Or they know someone that knows someone. It never hurts to ask around before hopping online and becoming a number in a queue of thousands of faceless customers. Keep it local. Keep it small. And keep a business in business.

Medical Things

Sean is upstairs sleeping. He's in a Lortab and residual Propofol induced happy place. He's cute when he's sleeping.

He had hernia surgery again today. See, the last time he had his hernia fixed, and his boy parts became larger than normal as a funny side effect, the doctor did a medial abdominal incision. Well, about 3 weeks after his surgery, he noticed that incision had started to feel strange. It was large and soft. Over the next few months, it got bigger (and grosser), and he decided to get it checked out. Well, turns out the incision from his previous hernia surgery had herniated. Go figure.

So he had the new hernia fixed this morning. We had to be in at 5:30, and we were home at 8:30. Pretty slick operation they have going over there at the South Towne Surgical Center. Much better than a yucky stuffy hospital.

I'm sure he's feeling better than after his last surgery, at least he can sit down without worrying about sitting on anything of importance. Wink wink. And considering he came home this morning and promptly cooked up bacon and eggs for breakfast, I can tell you I'm pretty sure he'll be better soon.

Jogging and Thongs

I was lying awake one night, I seem to have caught my mom's penchant for early morning SVU reruns, and I was composing what seemed like a pretty hilarious blog post. It was 4 AM. Lots of things seem different at 4 AM.

But I still think it's pretty clever, if not hilarious. And at least it's a post, no?

So I took Emma out for a little run the other day. She's a trooper. She likes to run, and she likes to take walk breaks, which is totally fine with me. It got me thinking back to when I was kid, and my dad used to take us jogging with him once in a while. What ever happened to jogging? Just the word conjures up images of leisurely running by neighbors and waving a hearty "Hello!", then returning to a prancing gallop down the street.

Suddenly now it's become running. Running and keeping track of our heart rate and our distance to the step. Running and carrying water bottles and gel packs. Running and getting so focused on our breathing and our stride and our playlist shoved into our ears, so we don't even notice our friendly neighbors as we pass.

I miss jogging. I think I'm going to bring back jogging.

The other things I miss are thongs. Ah, thongs that you could wear to the beach, or around town. Now thongs are something completely different, although I'm sure you could still wear them to the beach and around town.

Mostly I miss the way things used to be. Slower pace, simpler, more down home. Now we deal with email and traffic and the hustle and bustle of getting through each day in one piece.

If you see me out jogging in my thongs, you'll understand that I'm just trying to get back to my roots.

March On

I can't really express to you how excited I am to finally be in the month of March. This morning as I took Emma to school, she commented on how many birds were around. It's a wonderful sign! Spring won't be long off now, I'm sure.

This also means Sean only has 1 month left of this semester, which I know he'll be glad to have behind him. Turns out a 20 year gap between Calculus classes can make for a bit of a challenge. Next semester will be at the University Of Utah, and into his accounting program, which will be a nice change from having to take all the odd prerequisites like Basic Computers and Health and Nutrition.

March also reminds me that it's been nearly a year since I went back to doing hair. How this year has flown! I've made so many friends and wonderful clients, and I'm reminded each day how much I love my job. I'm very grateful I have this skill to use to support my family.

On a bit of less exciting note, I have officially failed at my first 2 months of running 26.2 miles. Wow. What a bummer. But I'm not giving up! I'm keeping my running log over there on my sidebar, and I'm sure one of these months I'll actually hit my goal. Now that the inversion is clearing and the weather is warming up, I'll have 2 less excuses for not going.

All in all, I'm pretty ready to get my March on. Can't you tell?

The Haps

You know, I really don't have much to blog about these days. No pregnancies, no tragedies, no excitement at all really. And I don't mind. I do have a couple of funny things going on though, and I'm all about the funny.

Sean is about 12 hours into a 10 day cleanse. You might know it, the Master Cleanse. He's miserable and bitchy, and I think it's pretty dang funny. Because I'm mean like that. He needs a diet coke in a bad way, and I just keep telling him I know he can push through the pain. Maybe I'm not mean. I'm supportive.

Gretta buckled herself into Elliott's bouncy seat today, then walked around with it on her back all morning. She thought she was so clever. I remember like yesterday (seriously, wasn't it just yesterday?) when she would sit all swaddled up in her own bouncy seat so she could take a nap. She had a binky and a helmet and she was the cutest little thing.

I colored Meg's hair dark today! It was awesome! It took us three processes; one to fill, one to color, and one to highlight. But we did all that, plus a cut and style in about 2 hours. Pretty slick stuff. It looks adorable. Will all the Noorda girls go dark eventually? Perhaps.

We had a really fun dinner tonight. Meg and Josh and Elliott were here, and we all made soups and Kelli made rolls, and we had dad and Noma over for the evening. It was so nice to be together all as a family. I think we're all sort of getting more comfortable with our new normal, and I'm so grateful for that. I love my family. I love that they love me, even when I say stupid things, and totally embarrass myself. That happens a lot.

So that's about it these days. I need to get running more, and I need to get taking more pictures. My life really isn't this boring, there are a lot of days that I leave in the morning, and don't return until dinner time, but it's very day to day mundane stuff that isn't really blog worthy. But that's okay, I guess.

Loves

Today is Valentime's Day. I love that my kids call it that. Well, not so much love, as despise, but I'm trying to have a good attitude.

Don't worry, my bad attitude is back already. One paragraph was hard enough.

This day makes me think of all the things I love. So many things. Love is hard to contain.

I love my family first and foremost. All of them. I hope they love me back, because I'm nuts, and hard to love.

I love my job. I get to make people look and feel pretty, and that makes me feel pretty darn good about myself.

I love homeschooling. Never thought I'd be saying that!

I love crab legs. It's been too long since I last had them. It's time.

I love baths that are so hot it makes the sweat run into my eyes.

I love my electric blanket.

I love blogging and facebook and twitter.

I love having options at this point in my life. Instead of being stuck on the hamster wheel of corporate America, we have a lot of choices ahead of us, and we can pretty much choose whatever path we'd like.

I love looking back at a year ago, and two years ago, and seeing progress.

Valentime's day is supposed to be all about love. And right now, I'm pretty much feeling the love.

Why I Don't Ride The Bus

When I was a kid, when we would go off-track, (that's a year-round school thing for those of you not in the know) my mom and a bunch of us neighbor kids would all take a day and ride the bus downtown. She did this with us because her mom used to do that with her. It was quite a big deal back in the day. They would don their nicest hat and gloves, and they would pay their $0.5, and ride the one and only bus that ran at that time. While downtown, they would shop, and my mom's mom would always let them get a candy bar, and sometimes a new dress.

See? Big deal.

So we did that when we were kids. We would put on our nicest shorts and sandals, pay our $0.25 to one of the two buses that ran that day, and head downtown. We would always eat lunch, and usually score a couple of outfits. My mom was nice like that.

See? Also a big deal.

So tomorrow I'm taking Maggie on a date. We are going downtown, and I thought I would take her on the bus. Not the train, we're old hats at the train, but the actual bus bus. So I started looking at places to catch the bus. Then I realized every bus (there are like 12 in Riverton now), stops at the train station. But I don't want to go to the train. So I started using the Itinerary link on the UTA website.

It doesn't work. So I called the number. It doesn't work either.

How am I supposed to know where to catch the bus and what time? Seriously, UTA, get your act together. It's no wonder no one rides the bus anymore. You have made it frustrating and inconvenient. And how are good mothers like me supposed to carry on the traditions of our mothers if you make it so difficult to find our way around?

I might just have to resort to driving. But I really want to ride the bus. Or do I?

In The Middle

This week we have quite a milestone. We have middle school orientation.

I'm so not ready for this.

I've been dreading the day my kid goes off to middle school, practically since the day she was born. I remember it like it was yesterday.

Lots of good memories, some bad ones, but mostly good.

Still, I am having major reservations about her walking into that giant school, her being a little bitty thing for a prospective 7th grader. All those 8th and 9th graders will look so much bigger than her, and I'm sort of associating bigger with meaner. I don't know why I'm doing that.

She's a good girl, she has good friends, and she makes good choices, so I don't really need to worry about her. But my mother bear instinct is really strong, and I just want to protect her from all the things she'll see from this point on in her life.

Homeschool is an option, but not one I'm putting much stock in. She isn't really interested in that right now, and I can't say I blame her.

Can someone please make time stop? Maybe for just a year? Or a day? I'd even take a day.

Backseat

Is it just me, or have blogs become old fashioned?

I used to picture my blog as a sleek new toy that everyone envied. A place where I could spew my thoughts and troubles and life lessons in a safe, public environment. Does one preclude the other? Perhaps, but it felt good either way.

Now I sort of picture my blog to be a flip phone version of what it used to be. You know, it's still useful for certain, if not limited, purposes, but for the most part it only does one thing. It's starting to look more and more like the brick phones of the early 90's.

Has Facebook taken over where blogs once reigned supreme? Honestly to me, it sort of has, and I'm saddened by that. I like reading back through my old posts, that are neatly sorted by date, rather than having to search page by page through old Facebook updates. So in that respect, I would rather blog. But blogs are technologically cumbersome. You have to type in a blog address. So much wasted time. Where as Facebook is a one-stop shop for all life's need-to-know moments.

I'm not saying my blog is falling to the wayside permanently, but as you can tell, it has definitely taken a back seat. If you just can't live without my witty comments on the ups and downs through life, find me and friend me on Facebook. Or just learn to live with the sporadic posts on this blog, which are few and far between as of late. It's a sad day, but I feel like it's time to go that direction. Sniff sniff.

Bigger Isn't Always Better

Yesterday I had to have my eyes dilated. Maggie giggles every time she hears the word "dilated". She's obsessed with babies and labor and delivery. It's creepy, but she knows a lot about it, so I guess that's good. But I digress.

I had to get my eyes dilated. First time ever. Not fun. I had no idea how crazy weird it is to have your eyes messed with. But it was pretty necessary, so I'll tell you my story.

I woke up, just like any regular day, but when I stood up, I noticed flashing silvery lights creating a halo effect in the very middle of my vision out of my left eye. Kind of like when you stand up too fast, and the blood rushes out of your head? It was like that. But it didn't go away. In fact, after a shower and doing my hair, it was getting worse. I had completely lost my peripheral vision on my left side, and the silvery halo was still there. It was giving me a headache.

We called Moran Eye Center, just to see what they said about it, and the nurse said that is a sign of a retinal tear or detachment, and that it warranted immediate care. I was totally freaking out at this point. So we headed up to the U, and got in to see the eye doctor. After a battery of tests, all of which freak me out because I have serious eyeball gross-out issues, it was confirmed that I did not have a retinal tear or detachment. Thank goodness.

So I had a little chat with the Neuro Ophthalmologist, and we concluded it was most likely what they call an ophthalmic migraine.

Basically, it's like when some people get migraines, they get the weird auras and light sensitivity right before the pain sets in. Only with this kind of migraine, all it is is the auras. I guess it's pretty common, but I had never heard of this in my life. It lasted a good 6 hours, and then as it subsided, I was left with a groggy, heavy feeling like I had been run over by a truck. It wasn't my best moment.

But really, all in all, I would take the auras and lights over having my pupils dilated to the size of baseballs any day. Not being able to read (Facebook), and the searing blinding sunlight really turned me off. I like my regular sized pupils, thankyouverymuch, but I am grateful for the technology that allows the doctors to see things like detached retinas and whatnot.

Today I'm fine. No more auras, no flashing lights and not too much light sensitivity. But I do need to keep an eye out ( ha ha) for another attack, because apparently once you get one, you are very prone to more. Weird.

One Word

I've reached the end of my blog motivation, which has led me to take drastic measures. I'm participating in a one-word meme, if not to give you an insight into my exciting life, at least to fill in a day of blogging.

Enjoy.

1. Where is your cell phone? Pocket

2. Your most significant other? School

3. Your hair? Brown

4. Your mother? Heaven

5. Your father? Handsome

6. Your favorite? Family

7. Your dream last night? Nope

8. Your favorite drink? Coke

9. Your dream/goal? Happy

10. What room you are in? Dining

11. Your hobby? Facebook

12. Your fear? Failure

13. Where do you want to be in 6 years? Done!

14. Where were you last night? In-Laws

15. Something that you aren't? Shy

16. Muffins? Top

17. Wish list item? Car

18. Where you grew up? Utah

19. Last thing you did? Text

20. What are you wearing? Clothes

21. Your TV? Disney

22. Your pets? Nope

23. Friends? The best!

24. Your life? Crazy

25. Your mood? Bitchy

26. Missing someone? Mom, always

27. One place that I go to over and over? McDonalds

28. Something you want: Graduation

29. Your favorite store? Kohls

30. Your favorite color? Pink

So there you go. Nothing too exciting, but if you want to participate, go here and link up.

It's A Girl

That title got your attention, huh?

Gotcha.

This is all about my Gretta, my baby, the one and only fetus of which we knew the sex, turning 4 years old today.

She got a new bike and a new helmet. She was in heaven. She said "Thank you" a million times today. It was adorable.


She also got a new snowglobe. The one she had from Christmas broke, and she was devastated. Emma was very thoughtful and found this one for her at the hospital gift shop. (That's a whole nother post.)

I can't believe my baby is 4. Where has the time gone? She was once a sweet, wriggling mass of babyness, and now she is a preschooler, and a stinker.

I miss those days of she and I chilling at home, her in her helmet, me in my, well, not helmet. I miss her crazy flailing arms and her pterodactyl scream. I miss her crawling, her crib full of stuffed animals, and the swish of her diaper as she toddled around the house. Those days pass so quickly, it's hard to remember what the day to day life was like back then.

Now I love having her as my eternal sidekick, always intent on being right in the middle of whatever I'm doing. I love that she'll talk and talk, and talk, and then suddenly be asleep, practically mid sentence. I love that she can buckle her own seat belt! I love that she will get dressed by herself, and help herself to my cookie stash under my nightstand. I love that she loves to fall asleep in my bed at night, and that she will tell me she has "logged off" the computer when she's done playing.

She is such a big girl, and a great helper. I love having her home with me and Maggie to keep us both company. She is a great little sister, and I'm lucky to have her.

Happy birthday, Gigi. We love you!

Just When Things Are Running Smoothly

So as you can see on my side bar over there <----, I have successfully logged some miles for this month. Yay for me.

Boo for injuries resulting from said mileage.

It would seem that despite my best efforts at being a trooper and buckling down and getting my happy ass out the door to run and complete my goal, I have suffered a strain to my Peroneal Tendons.

I need to reiterate, this has no affiliation whatsoever with the Perineal anything. Totally different part of the body.

But this stinking injury has really put me in a mood. Now I can hardly walk, let alone run, and I just know I'll miss my goal for this month. The first month in, and I'll fail. What a way to start off the year. Bummer.

But I also know that unless I take it easy and let this thing heal appropriately, I'll be battling it all year, and that would be worse.

So I'm giving myself a pass on this one. I'm gonna bow out of January gracefully, and let myself pick up when I've healed fully. I know, I know, it seems like I'm just one of those people that sets goals and then doesn't follow through. I totally am, by the way, but not this time. I'll take whatever mileage I'm lacking at the end of January, and divide it into the remaining months, so when the year is all said and done, I will still have completed the initial amount of miles.

Win win. Good and good.