Monday, July 27, 2009

Doing it anyway (yet again)

It is 9:27 in the morning and Savanna has changed shoes 4 times.

First, she wore the practical (pink) tennis shoes.

Then she found her blue-tie-dye Crocs and had to have them. "These one."

When she spotted the church shoes sitting on my desk, she squealed, "THIS ones!"

And just now, as I began writing this post, she saw the Crocs again and it was, "These one," again.

The boys are in front of the TV, paralyzed by the poisonous bite of video games. They will not move until I make the screen go black.

My house is, as usual, in disarray around me. As much as I would like to pretend this isn't the usual, it is. My house is usually messy. It's something that I haven't quite mastered; I'm also trying to annihilate needless guilt. It's a tricky balance; if I do what I can, I should choose to have no guilt. But if I don't do all I can.....well.....then I need to forgive myself, do some work, and move on.

I am actively procrastinating.

My stomach is in coils--forget butterflies. Eels would be more appropriate; electric eels that writhe and pulse and glow and swim. Tomorrow morning, I will wake up at 4:00 and pack a bag for myself and a bag for the children. At 4:45, my babysitter will come and sleep on the couch while I pull out of the garage at 5:00. At 7:00, I fly from the Las Vegas airport, and at 7:00, my children will wake up to a babysitter--not me. They will play and eat and grow and cry and then go to sleep 12 hours later; Phill will be home while their eyes are heavily closed, their hearts beating a lazy rhythm, their subconscious minds alive. And I will be at my sister's house in Florida, sleeping or eating or worrying or laughing. And then on Wednesday, I will accompany my sister and her four beautiful daughters to the airport, and we will make our way back to Vegas, and then back to my house.

My children have never been with a babysitter for so long before. I trust my babysitter(s) implicitly! I will even be typing a list of tips & helpful information. I will be spending the day cleaning, cooking, packing, and trying to stay busy so that my nerves don't rule me.

I know that they will be just fine.

I know that I will make it to the airport, find my flight, and make my connections just fine.

I know because I prayed and asked for help, and my prayer was answered.

But I am still anxious. There are so many little details that are not under my control....and as I am at the beginning of this "adventure", I am just too nervous to be excited. I know, though, that once I get going--once I am where I need to be and once I have done all I can do--I will feel exhilaration.

I will be excited to be on my own for a while; I will be glad that I don't need to keep counting my children ("1...2...where's 3? Oh, there you are....1...2...3....1...where's 2?!....oh.....2....3"). I will enjoy the opportunity to nap and read and eat without interruption. (over 7 hours of traveling) I will be proud of myself for pushing through my nerves and
doing it anyway. I will see my sister and my brother-in-law, my parents, and I will get to hold my beautiful niece finally.

And it will all be worth it. And I might laugh at myself a little bit. It will be an adventure.

Friday, July 24, 2009

Marathon Appetite

My sweet friend Kathy asked me in a comment how my marathon training is going. Well, would you like to know?

My training schedule involves 3 short runs during the week--usually I do those Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday--and 1 long run on the weekend--which I usually do Friday or Saturday. The training schedule I use is really gentle; it's quite gradual. (Oh--here it is, in case you're wondering. Scroll down; I'm Novice 1.) For instance, my long runs tend to progress like this: 6-7-5...9-10-7...12-13-10. So before my long runs increase, my body gets a little break. (And oddly enough, 7 miles feels awesome when the last weekend's run was 10.)

I'm almost halfway through my training! I have 18 weeks of training, and this weekend will close my eighth week. Very exciting. My body is finally starting to complain--that is to say, it has started complaining more even when I'm not running. My hip hurts, my knees are not much better, and sometimes my shins take a beating, too. (I need new shoes.) I sometimes feel like an old lady! But on the flip side, I'm feeling good, fitting in my clothes a little better, and sleeping like a champ. And I'm proud of myself! Every time I do a long run, I surprise myself. I start to realize what I am capable of, and it's at once exciting and overwhelming. Sometimes after a long run I don't really process what I've done. And then 45 minutes go by and I call Phill just to shout, "I just ran X miles!!"

I had ambitions of losing a couple extra pounds through all of this, and for the first few weeks I was weighing myself vigilantly. Well, way too much, actually. Phill let me know he was worried, and that if I continued at that rate that he would throw away the scale. I didn't improve; he threw away the scale. When I realized what he had done, I had a moment of panic....and then realized that it was good he had thrown it away--because I was panicking. Who panics when they can't weigh themselves all the time? People who have a strained relationship with food and weight, that's who! I'm so glad he did that. Now I am able to focus on my effort and my fuel. My view of food has changed--I see it as something healing, something restorative. And I don't feel guilty when I indulge in a comfort-food-craving. (Chocolate chip cookie dough.) I know this sounds strange, but....I respect food now. I'm grateful for food.

On that note....I am constantly hungry! CONSTANTLY. My stomach seems to be a bottomless pit, and most days I can't even tally up what I've eaten; it's too much. I'm in love with Horizon organic chocolate milk. I'm crazy about Great Value all natural Vanilla Bean & Chocolate ice cream. I could eat two cantaloupes a day, although today I've only eaten one. I keep making whole wheat bread so that I can slather it with apricot jam and devour five pieces in one sitting.

But wait, folks, that's not all! Apparently, I'm even hungry while I sleep, or at least my subconscious is. Last night, I dreamt I had a huge ball (9 inches in diameter) of coconut chicken on a stick. In my dream, I said, "I don't know WHERE this delicious coconut chicken came from, but I don't care! I'm going to eat it all!" (Someone in the background, some Voice of Reason, said, "But what if it's poisoned?" My answer? "Oh, it's not.") Then I pause mid-chomping and say, "Phill! You've really got to try this!" He takes one bite and says, "Rae....this is just a cantaloupe on a stick. This is gross. And weird." I take it from him, shrug, and continue to eat voraciously. When I woke up, all I could think was, "What?! A chicken ball on a stick? Cantaloupe on a stick?" And my stomach was growling.

So that's how my training is going. :D Tomorrow I run 13 miles. Wish me luck and a tempered appetite!

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Little Mimic

All these days that I have been putting on my makeup, cleaning up spills, reading at the table, or throwing things in the trash....someone has been watching.

And taking notes.

And practicing.
That is some impressive technique, given that she's only 2 years old. I mean, her hands may have been shaking (she was probably anticipating being caught), but she did do this without a mirror!
At least she's copying my better behavior. Putting something in the trash:
Cleaning up her spills:
And I guess reading at the table isn't "kosher" or "polite". But at breakfast and lunch, I can't help it. And apparently, neither can she:

Thursday, July 16, 2009

Dear Rae,

I know you don't want to do the dishes.

I know you really just want to watch TV, read a book, or take a nap.

I'm well aware that you have no desire--none whatsoever--to put away the rest of the clean laundry, or wash the rest of the dirty laundry, or pick up toys or mop or sweep.

And as far as doing the budget? Or making a meal plan and grocery list? Right. I know that's the last thing you want to do, even if it's one of the first things that needs to happen.

But Rae, it's time to get over yourself and do it anyway. As unmotivated and bored as you are, there is nothing exciting about continuing to do nothing.

So do it anyway, please. The kitchen is starting to stink.

Sternly & lovingly,

Thursday, July 9, 2009

Just a little funk-y

As life is changing, and we are human, it follows that our days, weeks, months, and years don't always follow a predictable pattern. With all the ups, there are downs, and then there are the in-betweens.

Which is just fancy talk for saying: I'm in a funk.

I'm not sad. I'm not terribly enthusiastic. I'm not motivated. I'm not completely lazy. I'm between.

I haven't blogged for a week, and it's because I haven't really known what I should blog about.

My parents visited, and still, I thought, "What should I blog ab
out?" I ran ten miles last Saturday, and ten and a half the Saturday before that, and I will run seven miles tomorrow morning! Lots of fodder for blogging, and still, here I sit, in my little in-between blah-ness.

I do know how to get out of a funk; I'm not completely at a loss! The solution is always action. Clean the house, take the kids out, paint my toenails, take some pictures, call some friends, write an email.

Action works because I've discovered what I'm really feeling when I'm in this funky spot is just a teens
y bit sorry for myself, and not really much entertainment for anyone around.

My parents left two days ago. Shortly thereafter, I became hormonally unfavorable. And shortly after that, our
budget was clearly unfavorable. Yes. It's true. I'm feeling a little sorry for myself, even though I have everything I need and quite a bit more.

Silly, silly me.

But since it is 11:02p.m., and I have no aspirations (yet) of cleaning my house, taking t
he kids out (of bed, no less), painting my toenails, taking some pictures, calling some friends, or writing an email, I will quote that fascinating Scarlett O'Hara and say:

"After all, tomorrow is another day."

Another day when Phill will be heading up to Ogden on Army business until Sunday; when I will wake up at 6:00 (ouch) to run seven miles (ouch & hooray); a day when I will stop feeling sorry for myself and will clean the house, laugh with my children, and probably lay out in the sunshine for a while to warm my sleepy soul.

And with you readers as my witnesses....I will try not to go funky again.