Monday, June 4, 2012

Yoga Moms

Do you ever see perfectly groomed women on the street? They looked polished, waxed, happy and glowing even though it's way too early for that? Perhaps with a child or two (maybe even three) with them? Happy children that aren't screaming and trying to rip each other's hair out?
I'm not one of those women. Those who know me well would consider me a pajama junkie. I own more comfortable pajama/cotton drawstring pants than jeans. It's true. I L-O-V-E some good soft pajama pants.
Also, just to be clear, I am NOT a morning person. In fact, my dream day would be from about 11am to 1am. Often I can be seen growling at anyone and anything in sight if I'm awake before the crack of nine in the morning. It can get ugly.

Fortunately that is what an occasional energy drink is for. I'm not certain if it's my late nights that kills me some mornings, or the obvious smell of my two year who has pooped in her diaper. No escaping that. 
Now, on to my point. Joslyn is just about ending her first year of 'real' school. She's a Kindergarten junkie. With school Mon, Wed, and alternate Fridays. School begins at 8:35am and because we live close to it, she either has to walk or I drive her.
And because I don't think it would be a wise choice to let her walk about a mile or so to school by herself, I drive her. Most mornings we're running a little late. I've got my two and three year old in pajamas and I'm dragging them out without shoes or socks. There are usually tears from my three year old who is demanding her shoes even though she stays in the car for the short ride. 
Then you can add in that sometimes my two year old will poop in her diaper RIGHT before walking out the door, so we've got a pleasant stench permeating the car. 
I try to remember all three children, my daughter's folder, lunch and backpack and on occasion, a show n' tell. Usually I do remember it all, even if we're late getting there.
Now to the really good part.
Keep in mind here that I am the pajama queen. Although I do not wear pajamas to my daughter's school because I can almost feel the horror from the other mom's if I did.
So there I am, no makeup (because it's 8:30am and who in their right mind is up and coherent at that hour - yes, I know that is normal in the regular world.), dressed in the first jeans I pulled out of the drawer, a tee shirt and hoodie (that if I'm lucky, will not have smeared banana or whatever other sticky mess my two year might have managed to wipe on me), lucky if I've managed to snag a shower before school and been able to brush my hair too. No makeup. With MOM hair pulled back to make it more dignified. 
That's when I see them. The 'Yoga' moms. Or at least that's what I call them. These women that are late dropping their child/children off too.
Did I mention that I run Joslyn right into the school (we live in a tiny town) then turn around and leave because she knows the way from there?
Okay, well now that I've made that known... these moms do not do that. They take out their other kids as well, then walk sweetly into the school, sign in, take their child down to their room and help them switch shoes/hang jackets/get folder out.
I leave Joslyn at the door because I leave Keira and Eden locked in the car and I can still see my car while I'm standing at the front door of the school. Completely safe, but there is no way I want to bring my two and three year old daughters inside in their mismatched pajamas (because I couldn't find one set that they hadn't hidden either the top or bottoms to somewhere else.).
Back to the moms.
Dressed in gym clothes that are completely unstained and beautiful, with perfect makeup (and who does perfect makeup when they're headed to the gym I ask you? - HA - as if I'd know what people do at a gym), gorgeous hair and a smile on their face.
"Good Morning!", One of them smiled at me the other day. I could tell she wasn't buzzing on caffeine, she was actually happy to be out and perfect looking this early in the morning. My initial reaction was to leap on her and shake her senseless (or maybe something more drastic involving a shovel and her face). But then, it's not as if I would have won (and I obviously wasn't carrying a shovel). She looked like a toned, happy, beautiful barbie. That woman would've probably had me pinned to the pavement in under five seconds, all without breaking a sweat.
I managed to keep walking and smile (okay, that last part might have been a lie, it was probably more of a scowl, but she kept smiling at me anyway).
Now, I've come to a horrifying realization about these yoga moms. Their children are the same ages as mine, and I WILL be seeing them for years to come.
Point? I've started a running program to get in shape. I figure if I can't have makeup and be beautiful that early in the morning, at least I'll have a nice body underneath my torn AE jeans and hoodie. Take that gorgeous yoga mom!

Tuesday, January 3, 2012

The Run

Do you remember that high school teenager that could run? I mean... actually run. I'm not talking about running after your three year old, or the dog when it tracks mud onto your freshly cleaned floors. I'm not even talking about when you catch your one year old stuffing crayon into her mouth and you have to chase her down before she chews (and swallows) them.
Once upon a time, twenty years ago (okay, not really-- it was nine), I could run. Not in track or anything (ha!), but I didn't feel as if I needed to catch my breath just chasing down a runaway five year old in Walmart.

Sometimes you get cocky, and you forget that it's been nine years and you've had three babies and the only exercise you get is running after three kids, two dogs, and a cat (sometimes all together). This past summer was one of those times. My husband and I were in the car when I gloatingly told him that I could jog/walk a mile, no sweat (in a certain amount of time that he laughed at). I told him it was true. I could run, dang it! And so he mapped out a mile, then goaded me into running it. He said he would time me. 
I decided it was time to put that man in his place for not believing me. I KNEW that when I was finished with my mile he would have to apologize and I would rub it in (I expected some groveling, perhaps a bouquet of roses and diamond earrings at the least).
I decided to take one of my dogs, Whiskey, as it was dark and he's a boxer (supposedly a wonderful jogging dog) -- did I mention he was perhaps just a year old at the time? And that he's never jogged with anyone in his life? Okay, now that we have the facts down... I put on my 'running' gear. That's right, sports bra, skin tight workout tank top and yoga type pants. 
I started out just fine, despite my husband and his smirk, standing outside of the house with his watch, and my dog who decided running back and forth in front of me was a good idea. About two minutes in I kept telling myself I could do this. I WOULD run that mile, even if I was winded and my side was burning. 
About a minute after that I was repeating "I think I can, I think I can" in my head. I was absolutely certain that my husband had bribed my dog to try and kill me, along with drugging the water I'd had a sip of before leaving the house. 
About half a mile in I knew I wasn't going to make it another block, let alone the rest of the mile. I could swear my body was ripping itself apart, claiming revenge for years of no exercise. I dragged myself inside, ignoring the wide grin on my husband's face. I knew I was dying. There was something wrong. I'd contracted a running disease and would never breathe again. I was sure that I was coughing blood. I hauled myself into the bathroom where I draped my pain filled body over the vanity, thinking I was going to die. All for a stupid comment about how I could run a mile in whatever length of time I'd bragged. I've had three children with no pain medication, and I've never felt such pain. However...
I survived. 
This year, I WILL get into shape. My friend told me the other day that we're going to do a couch to 10k run. Yes, there was a 'we' in there. At this point I can't imagine a mile, let alone 10K. I'm not certain if she's delusional, or if she's conspired with my husband to murder me.
So that's goal numero uno this year. One hot mom body coming up. Hopefully.

Saturday, August 13, 2011

The Poo Fiasco of 2011

As a mother, if you haven't had at least one poop 'fiasco' then I just don't know what is wrong with your children, Ha-Ha-Ha (think of that being said in an exhausted, very sarcastic tone). I'm lucky enough that I've had at least one with each child. Perfect? I think so.
Now, let me explain my hours to you. My children go to bed at around 9pm. After that is my writing and editing time. It isn't unusual for me to be up until 2am writing. Especially when my husband is on a night shift.
Fast forward to last night. It was a night like any other. Nothing special or unusual. I was up until one thirty in the morning doing some writing. By that time I was feeling completely exhausted and decided it was time to go to bed. (My one year old has not been sleeping well lately, which means I don't sleep either.)
I climbed the stairs, trudged down the hall and opened my bedroom door.
The smell hit me like a linebacker. It was entirely unexpected and completely gag worthy. In fact, if said linebacker had come charging out of my room, I would have been less surprised. (Okay, not really...)
After telling myself it was only poop and that I would try to keep Eden asleep while I changed her... I stepped into the room.
At this point I was thinking I hope I didn't wake her up while I changed her. THAT was before I turned on my bathroom light and saw what had gone on. Apparently someone (me) had changed her diaper and put it on crooked. What must have happened after that... I assume control was lost and playtime began.
My precious, adorable, sleeping little baby had poo EVERYWHERE. I had no idea where to begin. It was nearing two in the morning and I still didn't want to wake her up.
At first I was thinking a towel. A wet towel until morning and then I'll hose her down. But that didn't fix the bedding problem.
And so I woke her up. She giggled and laughed and cooed while I stuck her nekked bum in the shower and hosed her off. I do believe that she had danced in the poo, it was the only explanation I could think of for why she had it up to her calves but then nothing from her waist up (thankfully).
Once the shower was over, I stripped the bedding, cleaned the crib bars and got a fresh diaper put on the little one.
It was a dirty job, but I did it. It took me until two thirty, but she was clean, the crib was clean, the sheet and blankets were clean, and I could go to bed.
Fast forward an hour to when my sweet, precious baby was still awake and trying to talk to me. Banging her crib into the wall and chatting away like we were sitting down for tea and cookies.
Eventually she went to sleep. I was nearing incoherent by that time, however, and so I don't remember what exact time it was.
Moral of the story? Take the time to make certain both bum cheeks are in the diaper
I was able to laugh about the entire thing while I was going about cleaning her, so I guess not all is lost. After all, if a parent can't laugh at themselves anymore, they're in big trouble.

Thursday, September 16, 2010

School!! :)

For the past... six months? Joslyn has been telling me she's "getting ready for school". She'd be all dressed, find some sort of backpack in the playroom, stuff it with toys and then go to the front door, telling me "okay mommy, are we going to school today? is the bus coming?"
Imagine her distress when I told her that school was months in the future, and even then, she would not be riding the bus.
Fast forward to this last Tuesday, her first day of pre-school. Armed with her new outfit, new 'indoor' shoes for school, new backpack, and "Tiger, the stuffed animal" for show and tell, plus a snack (which I have a rant about later), we left the other two youngsters at home and journeyed the 10 minutes to school.
We got there and she seemed pretty excited, looking around, staring at all the kids she'd never met before.
So then I tell her that I'll pick her up in 2 1/2 hours and I love her and she needed to be good for her teachers. Well, my little sweetheart didn't want me to leave! She threw her arms around my legs and begged me not to go. How sweet! The girl really does love me! (some days from the way she acts, I have serious doubts, but not lately :)
Between her teacher and I we convinced her that she needed to "help" the teacher and I told her to tell Jo all about her dogs.
I escaped, leaving her with her snack.
Now. On to the snack. When a information packet tells you your child will need a small nutritious snack, you think something small, right? Like a granola bar, or perhaps an apple, etc? I wasn't sure what we were going for, or how big to make the snack, so I gave her a variety. Some goldfish, a granola bar, and a string cheese. When we got there -- EVERY other kid had a lunch box! So I felt like the cruelest evil stepmother of them all, since my little girl didn't have one.
When I left I went directly to the store, purchased the cutest lunch box I could find and had it to show her when I picked her up.
I also asked her (because foolishly I was thinking that they'd probably just give the kids all water to go with their snack) if she'd had a drink-- and she goes "yeah" and I said "did the other kids have drinks too?" and she says "yes, they had grape juice" to which I reply "oh, that's nice. what did you have?" uh "water" (in the saddest voice possible). So I felt pretty stupid for not packing some sort of drink with her. :/ Off to the store we went and picked up some snacks and juice boxes, all of her choosing.
Today was day two, and there was no hesitation when she ran into the classroom without me. Her mommy! :( My baby is growing up!
And as a sidenote, who knew that they still send out those Scholastic book order forms? Those things have been around for years, I used to bring them home. And they still look and feel the same!
Here are some pics of her on her first day :)

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, Delta, Echo... & Whiskey

Yes, we did it. Insane? Quite possibly :) But I admit that freely. What is 'it' you may ask? 'It' is actually a 'he' and 'he' is our new pup.

It all started with Echo, our nine month old, 55lb, lovable, drool prone, happy-go-lucky boxer pup. Echo is the best dog you could ask for. Really. I have never seen a dog that is better with kids of any age (and when I say that, I mean not just my kids, but any of them that happen to be around), she doesn't have that "hyper" mentality that most boxer's do, although she does still have her extremely energetic moments. Everything is great where she is concerned, even the drool trail that she leaves from her water bowl on some days and reminds me of 'Hooch' from Turner & Hooch. EXCEPT the chew factor. If it can be eaten, as in -- toys, diapers, wipes, clothes, towels, socks, shoes, coats, dvd cases... well, I'm certain you catch my drift ;) .... then she will chew on it. Eat it? About 50% of the time. My husband and I got tired of waking up to gagging sounds in the middle of the night, so she became kennel trained, again, the easiest dog I have ever kennel trained in my life. The only one I've ever had that actually likes her kennel. Perhaps because she's only in it at night? I don't know. Anyway.
We found that her having a playmate fixes the chew factor. So we began the search. What kind of dog did we want? Did we want another purebred? (there are advantages of having a purebred-- like knowing what traits the dog will have-- granted this isn't true all of the time, but in my experience it always has been, and what health defects to beware of, there are more but I won't name them all...) Or a mixed breed? (advantages here too-- some of the medical problems are bred out of mixed breeds, making them less prone to hip problems, back problems, etc). We looked into both. Extensively. I knew we wanted a young dog, something preferably under 6 months. We were willing to travel if it would be worth it.
First I checked in with the breeder we bought Echo from, but Echo's litter was her last, so that wasn't going to be an option. We also wanted a female so that they would hopefully be good together. And then I spoke to a different breeder who had a young female about Echo's age. She told me not to go with a female, that they sometimes have aggression issues.
So then I started the search all over again, including pups that were mixes and purebreds, anything from mastiff's (any type of mastiff, came close to a bull mastiff/cane corso mix), to rotties, Jack Russell Terrier's, and pure mutts (in my book anything with 4+ breeds in it) that weren't little dogs. We are NOT little dog people. No pom's, chi's, shitz, or poodles, etc. for us.
That being said, we looked again at boxer pups. We love Echo's personality. She's comical. I've never seen a dog that will protect my kids and treat them carefully while still being able to play and leap as high as she can to pop bubbles. (She loves bubbles more than anyone I have ever seen in my life)
I checked with different breeders to see what they had available, sex, colouring, age. Finally after several inquiries within... 8 hours of us, I found a family that had had an accidental breeding between their boxers (thank you to his mother in law who thought the dogs could be out together, lol) ... the guy said it had ruined their summer, haha. Anyway, so I went to check them out, and fell head over heels for a little fawn w/black mask and a tiny bit of flashing. He was almost 8 weeks the day I brought him home, and the whole family couldn't help but fall for his sweet little puppy face. Echo included. Bingo! So now we have two boxers, twice the drool (eventually anyway), twice the playfulness, twice the dog food, dog poop, but no chewing. And yes, I'd exchange all of that for no chewing...
Here are some pics of Whiskey :)

You may ask yourself "why is the poor little guy in a kennel?" well... my four year old decided that she wanted him to "reach the sky" (her words, not mine) so she threw him down the stairs into our basement. NOT HAPPY. Two vet visits and five x-rays later the vet told me to give him infant tylenol every 12 hours and to keep him on strict kennel rest, only letting him out to go to the bathroom. He wants out so bad! But the x-rays revealed that he has a cracked radius and a cracked ulna, so kennel rest it is. Thank you Joslyn for nearly doubling the pup's price... I'm sure after tomorrow's visit and the one on the eighteenth it will be doubled. *sigh* lovely, hm?
Anyway, welcome Whiskey! :)

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

My Goals

For awhile now I've had certain 'goals'. Things I felt that were NEVER going to get done. For lack of some motivation and lack of time... lack of a bit of everything, really.

First let me tell you some of my 'goals'.
1. To get in shape. I don't 'want' my body back, as I never actually had a good body to begin with. I'm skinny and bony. I have no muscle tone. Harder than it seems with three kids and no gym around our area (that I know of). So I decided to do some boxing. Not bad. I go for a 45min-1hour workout with the punching bag, but it's just not working out what I want/need it to work out. So fast forward a few days and I'm cruising (again) on one of the FB buy and sell pages, and I found a personal home gym :) WOOHOO. Bert has been looking for one of these, so we made some inquiries, and he went and picked it up. We have it setup downstairs in our (future) guest room at the moment. And I'm all for it. I won't even tell you how sad and pathetic my 'workout' was. It's embarrassing, haha. But I've started, and that's what matters. I'm hoping to do boxing three days of the week and workout everything else (focusing on my upper body first) on the alternating three days, with Sunday off. I'm hoping I can do it. All of my friends/family that are currently working out have inspired me! :)
2. Make a pretend play kitchen for my girls. Big goal, yes. BUT I've looked thoroughly into this, and the kitchen I had my heart set on has been out for awhile now, and the reviews come back saying that it's poorly constructed. I'm not going to buy them something that can't withstand their "rough play". My girls are rowdy, I don't need a broken kitchen I've put money out on, if you KWIM.
So I thought about buying a different one... well anything with a good review that is big enough for two girls, and within a year, three girls, to play with is near the $399 range and up. The wood ones I'd go with, but again with the pressboard that I can't stand? Probably not.
Then I remembered crossing this one blog (that I cannot remember) and the lady had made her daughter (or was in the process of) a play kitchen. Well I'm handy. My husband could help me with the more difficult things (I'd recruit him for any routering and using the table saw), but I should be able to do everything else.
And that's how it came to be. I looked around at what other people had made, and I'm impressed. I'm also absolutely certain my husband and I can make a kitchen that my kid will LOVE. :)
3. Get a book done. This has been my goal for quite some time. I had some finished books in high school, but when I reread them-- I was horrified. I am embarrassed by the fact that I let anyone read them. So about... three years ago I began writing again. And now, three years later, I have finally finished a book. At least the first draft of it. With three kids it's been difficult to have time, I get nap time (if both Eden and Keira are sleeping and Joslyn will watch a movie), and when Jawz and Keira go to bed (if Eden will sleep too). But I've got one. It's the second book in the series, but that's good enough for me. Technically I finished the first book, but not the ending as I changed some major things in it, so I couldn't bring myself to write an ending that I positively knew was not going to happen. So I guess that would be two books, minus one ending.
I've been pretty stoked about this. I cannot even begin to tell you how excited I was to finish a book. It makes me one step closer to my ultimate goal of publishing... :) Now on to finishing the second draft of Midnight Reckoning. :P

So those are my main three goals. Can I do all three? Well, one is already checked off... so yes, yes I can. Wish me luck! ;)

My Great Find

At the moment Joslyn has this captains bed with a matching dresser... not "girlie" at all, when we bought it I painted it ivory and a light lavender. It's okay, but not exactly what I was looking for.

So every once in awhile I'll cruise Kijiji and FB buy and sell pages and see if there are any good deals on there.
Well, a month or so ago this dresser set caught my eye. I was hoping it was made out of wood... I'm really REALLY not a fan of pressboard. The stuff breaks and is just not quality.
The set was a dresser, desk, and an armoire. As long as it was wood, I wanted it. It was very feminine and my hopes soared...
So I called the lady, and lo and behold, it was solid wood. She said she'd bought it for her daughter and had never refinished it like she had wanted to. I told her I wanted them, and I'd send my husband over (whom I had to convince that I really wanted this set). She told me she'd hold them (because she was located an hour and a half away.
I sent my husband out and when he returned he had my set! :) He told me they were very good quality and we'd gotten a steal of a deal. Very true, looking at the back they are made by Shermag, and they make good stuff. I was, am, so excited!
And then I began sanding them so that I could prime and paint... and found that the wood underneath the paint is gorgeous! So now I have a dilemma. Do I sand them down and prime and paint them because it's easier? Or do I sand them down which is A LOT of work, so far I've worked a total of about two hours and the one piece isn't even half finished, and then clear coat them? What do you think? Here are some pictures... and one picture of part of a sanded piece, not fully finished as you can see...

Desk... (this top piece comes off and it's the only piece I've worked on so far)

Mirror that goes on top of dresser



Semi-sanded piece (it has some of the sanded paint on it as a powder that I need to wipe off)

So what do you think? Should I go the easy way out and just paint or sand every piece down individually (because I have to see if all of the wood is in this good of shape first) and then clear coat them?