Is It Nap Time Yet?

Apparently, Kenzie has been starving...ALL day.

She brought me a Gogurt right after breakfast and asked if she could have it. I said no.

Then, I made the mistake of thinking I could answer the phone. Silly me.
The lady I was talking too heard the panic in my voice as Kenzie brought an egg into the office. She had "egg slime" dripping from her sleeve and down her chin and I knew trouble was lurking back in the kitchen. How right I was...three eggs broken all over the floor. To Kenzie's credit, however, there was a kitchen towel in the middle of the mess...she tried to clean it up.

I wrapped up my phone call a few minutes later and went back to the kitchen to make lunch. This is a picture of what I found. This time, Kenzie was trying to open a "Danimals" yogurt drink. I caught her just in time.

I promptly buckled her into her highchair, stepping cautiously over the smashed cake crumbs and frosting stuck to the rug...that was her rebellion last night -- with Greg's birthday cake -- just as we walked out the door for Cannon's soccer game.

Finally, we ate lunch. Surprisingly, she didn't really eat very much.

But, she did manage to grab a tomato and pickle from MY sandwhich...and throw it on the floor.

No wonder I'm not accomplishing anything today.

Nap time, anyone?

**UPDATE** - naps are now over...and I just swept the floor for the third time today. Kenzie's snack was popcorn...and she managed to cover a good portion of the floor and counter with that. Seriously, how hard is it to hit your mouth?

Last Year...About This Time

I had one goal in mind when I went to the gym this morning: Run 5-6 miles in 50-60 minutes.
I only had a limited amount of time to workout, and I knew I had to run at least 5 miles in order to be on track for my 20-25 mile minimum this week.
For some, my goal would have been easily achievable. But for me, it was a challenge. Attainable, yes, but a challenge all the same.
I am not a runner.

I am a mother, a wife, a friend, a daughter, a neighbor, a sister and a volunteer. I am many things, but, I am not a runner.
I am not fast and I certainly can’t run forever. In fact, running makes me really tired! The only thing I have going for me is that I try to exercise consistently. My routine is this: I run consistently, and then I consistently eat too much junk!
An athlete in high school, I enjoyed the physical competition of the game and I was driven to succeed. But high school was a long time ago and I don’t think of myself as overly competitive with others now. I just have high expectations for myself...expectations which span all of the many roles I attempt to fill.

I looked around and saw that the #12 treadmill was available. (Incidentally, this has become my treadmill of choice because 12 is Greg’s favorite number. It reminds me of him and inspires me to work harder.)
The guy next to me looked to be running at a decent clip, so I hopped on. I figured that I could easily match, if not exceed, his pace.
Granted, I knew nothing about this guy. He was a complete stranger to me. With a towel over his instrument panel, I had no idea whether he’d been running for 30 seconds or 30 minutes. I didn’t know his incline or his speed. The only thing I figured out (rather quickly) was that if I tried to maintain his pace for my 50-60 minutes at my incline – I would likely pass out!
You know that “mind over matter,” thing? It doesn’t work. I tried to will my shoelaces to come untied, but a single knot has never held so well!

All my life I’ve been taught to “Stand a little taller,” “Be a little better,” “Set Goals,” “Work hard and never give up,” “Discipline yourself,” “Don’t settle.”
But at the same time, I’ve also been taught, “To everything there is a season,” (Ecclesiastes 3:1) and I’ve read many times that, “it is not requisite that a man should run faster than he has strength. And again, it is expedient that he should be diligent, that thereby he might win the prize; therefore, all things must be done in order.”
How to reconcile these teachings? How to strike a balance between working hard and not pushing so much that we get totally overwhelmed?

At 18:27 into my workout, the guy on the #11 treadmill slowed down. I determined to maintain my pace ‘till he quit. After all, people don’t cool down forever.
Thankfully, he stopped and got off.

Whew! I could ease up a bit.
Or so I thought.

Just as I was about to lower my incline and speed, out of the corner of my eye, I perceived a guy watching me. He was two treadmills down, and the unspoken protocol of the gym is that you don’t interrupt someone’s workout, nor do you stare at them.
So, although I didn’t look, I concluded that it was Doug, a friend from church.
“Oh great,” I thought – so much for easing up!
A military guy, I was certain that Doug had to maintain a certain level of fitness. I was also quite certain that he’d never given birth to four children; but that was simply an excuse. I had to keep going.
As if that wasn’t enough, “Tattoo Man” got on the first row of treadmills, right in front of me. A “gym rat,” I’ve watched him work out many times. Although he doesn’t run endlessly, he puts the machine on the highest incline and does a full out sprint for several minutes. Despite the tattoos, and the short duration, it’s an impressive workout nonetheless.
And then, my MP3 player started blasting:

Been running so long, I’ve nearly lost all track of time.
In every direction, I couldn’t see the warning signs.
I must be losing it, ‘cause my mind plays tricks on me.
It looks so easy, but you know, looks sometimes deceive.

Been running so fast, right from the starting line.
No more connections, I don’t need any more advice…

Head over heels, why should I go?
Can’t stop myself, out of control.
Head over heels, no time to think.
It’s like the whole world's out of sync.

Been running so hard, what I need is to unwind.
The voice of reason, is one I left so far behind.

Finally, a distraction, one whose message did not go unnoticed:
Stop comparing myself to and competing with everyone else.

I ventured a quick glance over my shoulder. My “friend” was winding down. And yes, as you probably guessed: It wasn’t Doug at all…just another total stranger working out on a Tuesday morning.
Tattoo Man had finished his sprint as well.

I decreased my incline. After all, my dead body sprawled on the gym floor wasn’t going to inspire anyone’s workout.

I quit thinking of everyone else and settled in to “me.”

Not-so-amazingly, I achieved my goal: 6 miles, 57:17.

In fact, I exceeded it.

Too bad I'll likely have a headache today as a result.

"Bootiful Wips" Part II

Not to be outdone by her little sister, our very own resident diva decided to help herself to makeup while I was on the phone. At least she only got to the lips.

"Just a Widdle Bit"

I should own stock in Vaseline. 

Kenzie, like all my girls, loves to have "bootiful wips." 

Because I can't go anywhere without chapstick, she knows that all she has to do is reach into my pocket and she'll find her treasure.

Of course, we always have the same conversation:

Kenzie: "Widdle bit?"

Me: "Yes, just a little bit."

You'll notice from the globs hanging from her lips how she defines, "widdle bit."

I've started buying 3-4 tubes at a time.

A Strange Thing To Covet

I know. We aren't supposed to covet. Anything. "Thou shalt not covet" is one of the 10 Commandments. 

We are taught, "Thou shalt not covet the neighbor's house, thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's wife, nor his man-servant, nor his maid-servant, nor his ox, nor his ass, nor anything that is thy neighbor's."

Apparently (once again) I have some repenting to do...because although not specifically spelled out, it's assumed that "thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's grass." And that, is what I find myself doing these days...walking up and down the street admiring all the dark green blades of grass. Odd, I know.

We used to have a beautiful, lush green lawn - as noted in the above picture. And then, we made a decision which will likely haunt us for a very, very long time. 

We rented our house to professional criminals. 

Of course, had we known they were professional criminals, we never would have rented to them. But hindsight is 20/20...

I deem them professional criminals...because they have lawsuits pending in nearly every city around this fine state. I haven't ventured to researching other areas...but that wouldn't surprise me either.

But, I digress. I won't get started on how I feel about these people and the way they conduct themselves. I'll spare you the choice adjectives that come to my mind when thinking of them.

I'll simply continue focusing on the fact that, among the thousands and thousands of dollars in damages, rent/fees owed, they completely let our yard die. Interestingly, one of his many cons was to claim to be a professional landscaping company. As it turns out (according to court records), he claims to operate two different landscaping companies. I just wish he would have done something with our yard in the 7 months he occupied the property.

Alas, live and learn. And boy...have we learned this past  year. We're slowly trying to recover and restore our yard in the process. Perhaps someday, with enough water, fertilizer and good old fashioned hard work, we'll get that lush green lawn back again...and be better because of this experience.

Can Spiders Hear?

I have a huge fear of spiders. Some might even call it a phobia. Irrational? Maybe..but very real nonetheless.

I've always feared the arachnid, whether it be large or small, hairy or not, harmless or poisonous, jumping or otherwise. In fact, Arachniphobia was probably the scariest movie I have ever seen. Seriously, who watches that at a drive-in, in an open truck bed, in the desert of Las Vegas?

Spiders terrify me. In my defense, however, I have had some run-ins with some pretty scary looking creatures. And, I have inhabited homes with a variety of "tenants." (Bees, both honeybee and bumblebee, rats, mice, and alas, the spider). What can I say? We're motivated by cheap rent.

It's hard to say exactly when I fell in love with Greg. Was it the free Godfather's Pizza's he would deliver to my roommates and me in college? Or was it the day he came running to our rescue when we discovered a VERY large "8-legged-guest" looming in the back bedroom? Talk about a Knight In A Polo Shirt. Sure, happily married all these years later, he'll still kill the occasional creature for me if he has too...but arguably, he seems to have lost that spring in his step. Oh...the days of courting....

When we were first married, we lived in a tiny, run down little house. (I would call it decrepit if I was sure of the spelling.) I suppose the expectations can't be too high when rent is only $240 per month, right? Still, to share my bedroom with creatures? That's asking a lot. And so, we asked Greg's brother to share his "bedroom" instead. 

Let me explain:

Aaron spent a summer with us when he was about 14. Our little house only had one bedroom, which just barely fit our queen-sized bed. The bathroom was crooked and if you weren't fully awake during the night, it was entirely possible to fall off the leaning toilet during those 3am visits. This has nothing to do with the story, but I'm trying to help you visualize that we weren't living in the Marriott.

Aaron's "bedroom" was actually our daybed which acted as the couch in our front room. The house was old and had many marks on the walls. But, I was SO good at spotting which spots were out of place...meaning...I could walk through a room and out of the corner of my eye, spot a spider on the wall. Size did not matter. RAID was always by my side. I had access to a can in each of the 4 total rooms that made up the house.

One unfortunate night, I spotted a rather large spider on the curtains just above Aaron's bed. I think someone tried to kill it...but it fell and we didn't know whether or not the assassination attempt had been successful. So...I did what any rational person with an insane fear of spiders would do....

I fumigated his bed....and everything within a 30 foot radius. (That pretty much covered the entire property.) I stopped short of spraying RAID on the food and in the fridge but that was about it. After all, there is NOTHING worse that not-knowing if it's dead or alive. Seriously...how do you sleep if you haven't seen the guts confirming the death? Let me tell you....YOU DON'T. 

After all that RAID, we probably should have checked into the Marriott that night.

We no longer live in a crappy old house. In fact, we are very fortunate to live in a beautiful new home, complete with a mostly-finished basement. So, imagine my dismay, when I headed downstairs to vacuum the other day, only to round the corner and see a BIG, BLACK, SPIDER sitting right smack in the middle of the floor. This is the same floor where my children lay their blankets. The same floor where they build with blocks. The same floor where I lay when I do Ab-Ripper X. EWWWW.....

Of course, Greg was out of town. He's always unavailable (aka working) when disaster strikes. (September 11th, the Black Out, The Dog Collar Stuck on Addysen's Neck, Cannon's Head Stuck In the Bunkbeds). I knew I had to do something...but I was terrified. The only thought that motivated me to act was that if I left the room and the spider disappeared, I'd never be able to fully enjoy my basement again.

And so, I became increasingly grateful for my Dyson Animal...and the 15 foot extension hose attached to it. I ever-so-carefully plugged it in, opened the extension and slid it close to the spider -- still managing to keep my distance. Then, in one fell-swoop, I hit the power button and attacked. Whoosh! It disappeared.

Just for safe measure however, I kept the vacuum running for the next 5 minutes while I cleaned up the toys. It was only then that I realized I had been sneaking around. I had been holding my breath pondering the thought, "Can this thing hear me as I get into position?" 

What was I really thinking? Did I think it had the strength to miraculously climb back out of the vacuum? Was it going to hear me and run off? Was it going to turn and attack if I didn't make the first move?

One can only wonder. 

And, when the trauma of the moment is over, I'll admit, these thoughts seem a bit ridiculous. But, in the midst of the experience...who can blame the human mind for its crazy thoughts?

You can be sure, however, that upon Greg's arrival home, I insisted that we (translate to HE) do something about the problem. And so, he bought three large containers of bug killer at Home Depot yesterday. I think it's more powerful than RAID. 

For obvious reasons, there will be no picture attached to this rambling.

At Least It Wasn't A Shut-Out

Cannon's team didn't come away with the win, but Cannon scored their only two goals. Brynnley was a royal pill, whining and complaining that she was bored about 5 minutes into the game. Too bad for me, ooops, I mean her, we've got soccer about 4 times per week for the next 6 weeks. She'll have to buck up and enjoy the ride!

Is it ALL Work?

Greg says that watching UFC is good training for work. He has yet to convince me of that. However, THIS training, I believe, is truly beneficial. The SWAT team was out of town most of the week as they conducted their annual training down near Cincinatti. They have to get 40 hours of practice in while they are gone, so they put in two 10 hour days, one 16 hour day and one four-hour session before coming home, exhausted and sunburned.

Can You Say Aggressive?

After having 2 practices, 2 skills days and 1 game cancelled due to weather, Addysen played in her first soccer game this morning. They won 6-0 and she had a blast. This bottom picture made me laugh ...we discussed that she might do a little bit better if she opens her eyes and stays on her feet. (In her defense, she says she was blinking.)

Cannon's team plays in an hour. Assuming that I remember to bring the camera and that the predicted rain holds off, we might have a few more action shots for your viewing pleasure.

What To Do While Dad's Out of Town?

The weather was too perfect so we decided to check out a new Metropark (new to us). We loved watching the geese (from a distance), the dog walkers, the ducks and the tadpoles.

We weren't exactly dressed in our Lance Armstong attire and B quickly tired of riding her training wheels (with skirt hiked between her legs) through the gravel. Do we have a future sister missionary on our hands?
Addysen almost had "the most embarrassing moment of my life," when she nearly rode her bike into the water. Luckily for her, she managed to stop just short of submersion and only her foot and front tire got wet. That would have been bad enough, except it just-so-happened that a boy that she "doesn't like," (yeah right) was enjoying the day with his family as well. They were about 15 feet away when the disaster almost struck.
Truly a nature lover, Cannon could spend hours trying to catch tadpoles, fish, snails, or anything else has to do with water, mud or sludge. He was never without a stick in hand and was very sad when it was time to go.
I mentioned the losing battle with Brynnley's bike. My brilliant idea to try and ride it while pushing the stroller turned out to be less-than-productive. It was a good leg workout nevertheless.

First Picnic of the Season

Brynnley and Kenzie had the first picnic of the season yesterday. Notice the variety of clothing...B doesn't even have a sweater on and K is wearing her winter coat (and snow boots). I'm not sure how much food was actually eaten vs. dumped on the patio, but they had a good time and I was able to finish vacuuming. We may have started a new tradition.

Last Chance Workout

I really like The Biggest Loser.

I don't watch very often, but when I do, I am totally inspired by the contestants and how hard they work to overcome their inward and outward struggles...both physically and mentally.

Maybe it's because I can relate. Granted, my challenges aren't the same...but I would venture to bet that we all have plenty of weaknesses and shortcomings of which we are very much aware...and that we continually strive to overcome.

On that note, last night was The Biggest Loser Finale. Ali, the first female in Biggest Loser history to win, said something that totally inspired me. (She lost something like 112 pounds - nearly 50% of her body fat. She took the grand-prize of $250K). She said something to the effect of, "I treated each workout as if it was my last chance workout." (Before the weigh-in.)

I thought about that this morning as I was doing my own workout...and I'd like to think I picked it up a level.

But more than that, I thought about situations in my life, and what I would do with them if it was my last chance...and even if it wasn't.

* If the thank you note I sent to my grandma was the last one I knew I would write to her, would I have said anything more? Or less? Shouldn't I write her today -- just because?

* If I knew the church lesson I was preparing would be my last one...how much more time and effort would I put into it?

* If I treated each day with my kids, with my spouse, with my family and friends as though it would be my last...what would I say? What would I do? Would I worry less about shoes on the carpet and fingerprints on the wall? Would I insist upon a bib? Would I fold laundry or play baseball in the backyard? Would I mop the floor or read stories? Would I take a nap or build a snow fort?

Of course, I always read comments like these...and often, they make me feel guilty. In all honesty, shoes on the carpet, fingerprints on the wall and stains on clothing bug me. If today wasn't my last chance, and I continually ignored the laundry and the floors and the fingerprints...my last days wouldn't really be so happy...because the chaos around me would take over. 

The reality is that, for the most part, I am doing my best. Granted, some days my best is much better than other days. Likewise, the same can be said about my worst days. But for the most part, I am doing the best I can...each and every day.

I think we all are.

But, still...the thought inspired me. "I treated each workout as though it was my last chance."

The interpretation for me was that attitude really does make a difference. And for me, when the sun is shining, and the kids aren't fighting, and the bills are paid (or at least there is enough to pay them), it's easier to have the right attitude. But, that doesn't mean that even when those stars aren't aligned, I shouldn't give it my all -- every day and in every situation. It doesn't even matter if some days, my all isn't all that much. 

Coincidently (or not), while I was thinking of the ways Ali's comments inspired me, I was listening to Matchbox 20 sing, "Let's see how far we've come" on my ipod.

And on that note, when the kids get home from school, we're going for a bike ride.

Update....

Addysen just walked in the door and happily reported that they made it into the Talent Show. Hooray! I guess this means I'll have to see if I can switch the date for our May Enrichment. 

Tagged

Ok, I'm finally going to respond to one of these:

10 YEARS AGO:

We were living in Cedar City, UT and I was finishing up my Master's degree. I was a manager at Adriana's, working (briefly) at State Bank, and teaching Communication classes at Southern Utah University. I was a newly called Young Women's President, we had just purchased our first house and, after a couple of years trying, were eagerly anticipating our first child. 

5 PLACES I'VE VISITED:

Florida

California

Mexico (just across the border in Tijuana -- does that count?)

Niagara Falls

Washington D.C.

5 THINGS ON MY TO DO LIST:

Repost rental properties on Craig's List

Get soccer shorts for the kids

Clean/Organize the basement & the garage

Pay Bills

Exercise

5 LIFETIME GOALS:

Be Happy

Continue learning and pursuing new hobbies

Serve a mission

Stay healthy and active

Be the best mom I can be

3 BAD HABITS

Stay up WAY too late -- especially when Greg works nights

Lose patience with my kids

Let my kids watch too much TV so I can get other things done

THINGS YOU MIGHT NOT KNOW:

*I cut my foot with a chainsaw when I was about 5 years old.

*I want to get my PhD...but the sacrifices it would take don't make sense with my life right now.

*As a child, I wanted to be a doctor -- but I don't like blood, as well as certain other words commonly associated with the profession. (S_ _ B and P_ _ S). (That's for you, Reed.)

*I got engaged in a hot air balloon.

*I had several pets named Squirmmy -- 2 gerbils and a cat.

 *I attended my first concert (R.E.M.) at age 14. I went with two of my best friends, and my dad. (It was the only way we were allowed to go. I think my parents thought I would decline the concert, rather than go with my dad.  They were SO wrong.) 

My dad had just had knee surgery and was on crutches. We had floor seats, about 35 rows back. When everyone started standing on their seats, my dad joined in -- crutches and all. He thought it was ridiculous that people didn't just sit down to watch the concert, but he didn't want to spend the whole evening looking at everyone's backsides either. Amazingly, he balanced, with his crutches, between a couple of chairs. I'm certain he looks back on that night with the fondest of memories. I know I do. I thought he was the coolest dad around.

I tag Gina, Jonelle, Eliza, Rachel, Heidi...and anyone else's who feels so inclined.

Rockstar - Like Real Life?

Yesterday, Addysen, along with two of her friends (and 95 other kids) tried out for the school talent show. From what I overheard during the few minutes I was at the school, I quickly surmised that the judges were likely going to hear A LOT of Hannah Montana/Miley Cyrus or High School Musical numbers.

Addysen and her friends performed, "Rockstar," complete with singing, choreography and a guitar solo.

The mother in me thinks that any third grader who is gutsy enough to try out should automatically make it into the show. However, at 3 minutes each, 95 children performing could make for a rather lengthy production. 

Furthermore, I realize that granting everyone a free pass, just for trying, isn't like real life. We all face disappointments and heartache sometimes...no matter how hard we've tried...no matter how much effort and preparation we've put forth...and no matter how "deserving" we might be. 

And so, we're waiting on pins and needles until Monday when the results are in. 

We'll keep you posted.

A Day at the Metroparks

You better look now, because it may not last...but...the temperature gauge in Cleveland hit 60+ degrees! Given the shorts, t-shirts and large amounts of skin showing around town, an unsuspecting passerby might believe we were nearing 100 degrees. Car washing took place en masse, as well as yardwork, bike rides and ball playing. Amazingly, as it turns out, we didn't move into a ghost-town masquerading as a neighborhood...as people have been up and down the sidewalk soaking up every minute of warmth and sunshine. We, too, joined the crowds...and made the most of this wonderful weekend.

A Rock In My Shoe...A Rock In My Life

I had a rock in my shoe today. I found this somewhat odd as the rock was in my running shoes and they've never been worn outside.

I'd been wearing them for over an hour as I did my P90x video. It wasn't until I was running on the treadmill that I even noticed the irritation rubbing against my heel. Somehow, without any knowledge on my part, that rock snuck in and started messing with my life. 

Perhaps I am waxing philosophical due to General Conference this weekend. Or perhaps I just always look for analogies as a way to figure out my life.

Whatever the reason, I found myself pondering how this rock, this seemingly small irritation is like so many things in life. So often, I try to ignore the little things, thinking, hoping, they'll go away on their own or somehow, magically, take care of themselves. And yet, that rarely seems to happen.

Contrastingly, I sometimes forget that if I'd just take care of the little things...starting small...eventually I'll get bigger results. This can be both positive and negative.

For example:

*A chip in the windshield would cost about $20 to repair. If that chip is ignored, left alone to withstand the elements, it will spread, most likely resulting in a full-blown, $150+ windshield replacement.

*A single, cracked tile is annoying to replace. Yet, replacing an entire floor, significantly more complicated.

*Making an appointment to check out a cavity...a pain. Letting the problem go and ending up scheduling a root canal...literally a pain.

*Any home-repair project is not fun to deal with. However, procrastinating these projects until you need a Cleveland Heights Point of Sale inspection...well, let's just say that a 20 page report is not unheard of around here.

*Folding the laundry daily, rather than saving it for the 18 load marathon session. (Of course, this can be altered depending on which tv show you'd like to watch guilt-free.)

*Washing/rinsing the dishes prior to the Bran Flakes (or Rice Krispies or mushy Lucky Charms) drying and encrusting themselves to the bowl/highchair tray/floor would make life so much easier.

Ahhh...the examples from my own life could continue on long and lengthy...so let's move to the more proactive portion of this rambling.

Regarding Health:

Committing to drink 8-12 glasses of water each day sure beats setting myself up for failure by saying I'll:

* Lose 25 pounds

* Run 25 miles per week

* Lift weights 3x per week

* Exercise 6 days for 1 hour each

* Eliminate all sugar, treats, chips and "fun foods"

I know, I've tried it both ways.

With Children:

*Teach them, train them, nurture them...while they are young. 

*Set boundaries and stick with them. 

*Discipline. 

*Love them. Laugh with them. Play with them. 

Do all these things while they still want me around. That's the key. As hard as it is to imagine, my kids aren't always going to want me around. 

I better do the little things now...because someday, all too soon, these "little things" (my kids) will be "big things." And unlike the rock in my shoe, once they are grown, I'm not going to be able to stop and "fix" things. 

In A Marriage:

Same principles apply, it's the little things. 

*If there is a communication issue, resolve it. If it's still being brought up months or years later, it's not resolved.

*Serve. It's that whole theory of, "A-peanut-butter-and-jelly-sandwich-tastes-better-if-someone-else-makes-it." Enough said.

*Laugh...together. (Although, laughing at each other sometimes works too.) Greg sings a mighty version of the Eagles, "Love (insert WAFFLES) will keep us alive."

Yeah, the list could go on, but in the midst of writing this, my two little girls have disappeared. If I really want to love them today, I better find them before they write on another wall, or spill the sugar container all over the floor. Again. (We try to limit that to a once-a-day occurence.)

Interestingly, just as a FYI note: 

I "posted" this entire blog in my head before stopping to take care of the rock in my shoe.  

Clearly, I have a long way to go.

Boring...How I Like It.

I am nothing, if not consistent. Some might even call me boring. I prefer routine, but however you term it, it works for me. I make no apologies.

I'm the type that wakes up and does the same thing every day. I don't even need to leave the house in order to be happy. I can find plenty of intellectually stimulating situations within the walls of my own home.  (YOU define 'intellectually stimulating.')

I shop at the same grocery stores. (It's efficient to know where everything is...and when you have 4 children with you...efficiency is SMART.) I buy the same brands, make the same meals and eat at the same restaurants.

I even wear the same clothes. But before you get the totally wrong idea, know that I do go out on a limb and spice up my wardrobe with 3/4 sleeves, short sleeves, or (usually) long sleeves. I venture out when it comes to crew neck, v-neck, turtleneck, pima, cotton, 95% cotton/5%spandex, thermal....you get the idea. 

Of course, those variations almost always come in black or white. (Black is more "kid-friendly" and white...well, it can be bleached.)

                       

So then, isn't it interesting that I am married to a law enforcement professional?  I don't know too many law enforcement personnel who went in to their line of work thinking it would provide routine situations everyday. If anything, they wanted the exact opposite. 

                    

Take Greg, for example. As a police officer/SWAT team member, he tells me what goes on at work. But, if I want to know the real details of a raid or an arrest, I have to eavesdrop when he tells his dad about it (retired FBI).

The faster the foot pursuit, the happier he is. The harder the dog bit someone -- the cooler it makes the story. The bigger the gun, the better. Tased someone and they crashed to the ground? Sweet. Interviewed a murder suspect? A rape suspect? A drug dealer...all in a days work...and it's exciting.

It used to strike me as really odd that while the kids and I were at home reading bedtime stories, he'd be out running through backyards, jumping fences and chasing bad guys. Now, in  a twisted sort of way, that has become the routine. 

Granted, many would look at our family "routines" and think they are anything but. But, it works for us...or, it doesn't. Either way, isn't that some sort of consistency?

Little Girls

   

    

 

Believe in yourself. Believe in your capacity to do great and good things. Believe that no mountain is so high that you cannot climb it. Believe that no storm is so great that you cannot weather it. You are a child of God, of infinite capacity.

Believe that you can do it -- 

          whatever it is that you set your heart on. 

                            ~ President Gordon B. Hinckley

Is there anything more beautiful, anything that speaks more of divinity than a lovely little girl? I have little great-granddaughters, bright-eyed and beautiful, who sing and smile and touch my heart with thoughts of heaven. When I see them in their innocence, I recall the words of the Lord, "Except ye....become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven." 

                             ~ President Gordon B. Hinckley

For the Record

Clearly, I have the kindest friends and family. To those of you who even insinuated (albeit, sarcastically) that this could possibly be my p90x BEFORE photo...well, may blessings and sunshine rain down upon you. (There's an interesting thought, huh? Raining sunshine. It could happen in Cleveland.)

There is NO WAY this could be my photo -- in high school or college (as was Greg's photo), let alone, after having 4 children. And, quite frankly, there is NO WAY I would post 'before' photos and subject myself to such embarrassment and ridicule.

My kids took one look and all concluded the same thing. Brynnley summed it up best when she said, "OOOH Mom! You're BAAAD! You're wearing a belly shirt. YOU shouldn't wear something like that!"

She is right....on all levels.

Shoot -- I can't even pretend.

PS -- I think I am starting to like hummus.