They say a child's curiosity should be stimulated and nurtured. They say the developing mind of a child is a beautiful thing. Albert Einstein said, "The definition of Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, and expecting different results". I say.... "THEY" only observed children for the purpose of publishing a study that would make parents question their very sanity?!?
We've entered the never-ending land of "Why". It starts at 6am and doesn't end until 8, sometimes 9pm, depending on just how inquisitive Cubbie is that particular day. A typical morning may start as follows:
"Is the sun up yet? - Cub
(me, barely conscience and mumbling through this entire interchange)
"No, go back to sleep"
"Why?"
"Because if the sun's not up, neither are we"
"Why?"
"Because we need our sleep"
"Why?"
"Because I'm tired"
"Why?"
"Because you wake me up too early"
"Why?"
"I don't know... can you please just lay down..."
"Why?"
***Silence***
"Why?"
***Silence***
"Um, hey Mom"
***Silence***
"Mom"
"What Cubbie"...
About 4 mili-seconds from that moment he will come at me from a different angle, with a new line of questioning, and generally about 15 minutes after that I will concede losing the battle to stay in bed.
Today, our day ended reading a 5 page card board book, with likely less than 20 words in the entire book. It took us the better part of 10 minutes to read that one book. It went something like this:
"Paul the police car drove down Main Street" - Kev... page 1...
"Where's he going?"
"Down Main Street"
"Why"
"Because that's his job"
"What are those people doing"
"They are standing on the side-walk"
"Why"
"Because they're watching Paul drive by"
"Why is that lady waving"
"Because she wanted to say hi"
"Why's that boy wearing a red shirt"....
And so it went, page after page after page....
Sometimes we get the very same question 19 times in a row, and despite answering the same, answering different, ignoring, going with the stand by that you swore you'd never say "Because I said so"... it never ends, the results never change, and slowly, question by question, our sanity is chipped away.
I try to bolster my patience by reminding myself that all these questions will result in my child undoubtedly being a genius... But then I listen to some of the answers I give him.... and I know better. My kid will be the one in first grade defiantly upholding his claim that the sky is in fact purple, because his mom said so, at which point I will have to come clean that after trying to convince him it was blue the first 20 times, I got bored and made something else up.
They say, at some point all parents will lie to their children.... THEY are right!
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Friday, February 25, 2011
The Work-Out is WORKING!
So it's been roughly a month since that first day those little old ladies schooled me at the gym, and I'm thrilled to say I'm starting to see results! Wahoo!!! Talk about the best motivation EVER, fitting in a size I haven't seen in almost 2 years! This work out kick, hinging on the end of the Daniel fast and the flu bug situated directly in the middle of the month, may have had something to do with the drop in pant size, but I'm telling myself it was all the hard work ;)
I took the boys to Nordstrom's Rack, originally just for a reason to get out of the house, but when I found a pair of Calvin Klein Capri's in a size 6 (yes... I just said SIX!!!), then checked the price tag and they were priced down from $50 originally to $12 (yes... I just said $12!!!) it changed the trip dramatically from let's look... to let's see what else I can find :) I walked away with two major successes. The first, obviously being SIX... SIZE SIX.... (can you tell... I'm a little excited), the second, being a super cute shirt, originally priced at $168 (seriously... who would pay $168 for a shirt?!?) and I got it for a steal of a deal at $19!!! So now I'm anxiously awaiting spring, which hopefully in D.C. is right around the corner, so I can debut my new capri's and cute shirt!
Next stop is Vicky S's, with a gift card from mom, as I've accepted the realization that no amount of working out is going to lift or tone the pathetic droopy sweater puppies my two beautiful Piranha's have left me with. They are now basset hound sweater puppies...
I took the boys to Nordstrom's Rack, originally just for a reason to get out of the house, but when I found a pair of Calvin Klein Capri's in a size 6 (yes... I just said SIX!!!), then checked the price tag and they were priced down from $50 originally to $12 (yes... I just said $12!!!) it changed the trip dramatically from let's look... to let's see what else I can find :) I walked away with two major successes. The first, obviously being SIX... SIZE SIX.... (can you tell... I'm a little excited), the second, being a super cute shirt, originally priced at $168 (seriously... who would pay $168 for a shirt?!?) and I got it for a steal of a deal at $19!!! So now I'm anxiously awaiting spring, which hopefully in D.C. is right around the corner, so I can debut my new capri's and cute shirt!
Next stop is Vicky S's, with a gift card from mom, as I've accepted the realization that no amount of working out is going to lift or tone the pathetic droopy sweater puppies my two beautiful Piranha's have left me with. They are now basset hound sweater puppies...
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Worrying About 'Tomorrow'
This post probably would have made more sense if I had written it yesterday.... but yesterday I was so worried about 'tomorrow', I couldn't manage to compile my thoughts!
I work out of my house, yet on Monday I STILL e-mailed my boss, telling him I 'wasn't coming to work'... Can you do that when you work out of your house??? Well, I did and the world is still turning, so we're gonna take that as a positive sign! Over the weekend, both boys contracted the flu, and with it 11 loads of laundry, and 6 baths in 3 days. Then I got it... BAD! Then Kevin got it... Bad! I am now out of laundry detergent, and have given serious thought to creating a Lysol holster for my belt!
Tuesday. I'm catching up on work, praying both boys don't relapse, and we make it to 2pm when the boys head down for their naps, and Tonya, the woman who helps our world go round, is about to depart. Tonya has been a God send these first 6 months we've been here... The boys adore her, we trust her implicitly, she has helped to make our transition seamless. Tonya has goals for her life, and its become clear to her that an 8-2pm chunk of time M-F doesn't leave much to realize those goals in.... so now we are in limbo with her. I fully support her finding what it is that will make her happy, but can't deny there is a selfish part of me that had grown comfortable with our routine.
Enter my Facebook post from Tuesday Night: "Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for it will worry about itself. Each day has enough troubles of its own" (I Googled it after the fact, and learned that verse comes from Matthew 6:34)
Yesterday I was worried about my family being sick, losing an amazing care provider for my boys, launching my first small group (today: Wednesday) as a co-leader (SUPER Scary), the house hunt we've just begun, and all the financial changes that will result in.
Yesterday I worried about a lot, and it did me NO good. None of my circumstances immediately changed as a result of my worry, it pretty much just festered, grew, and ultimately robbed me of a good evening. So today, I'm not gonna worry. If I look over the last 10 years of my life, all I can see are the little ways God stepped in gave me more than I could have hoped for: Meeting Kevin, majoring in Supply Chain, Moving to Austin, Dell, UT, Gateway Community Church, Caleb, Logan, internships for Kevin, offers/options, Oracle, and now DC, and our new church family here. There IS a plan, I just need to practice a little faith... WAY tougher to actually execute than write about!
I work out of my house, yet on Monday I STILL e-mailed my boss, telling him I 'wasn't coming to work'... Can you do that when you work out of your house??? Well, I did and the world is still turning, so we're gonna take that as a positive sign! Over the weekend, both boys contracted the flu, and with it 11 loads of laundry, and 6 baths in 3 days. Then I got it... BAD! Then Kevin got it... Bad! I am now out of laundry detergent, and have given serious thought to creating a Lysol holster for my belt!
Tuesday. I'm catching up on work, praying both boys don't relapse, and we make it to 2pm when the boys head down for their naps, and Tonya, the woman who helps our world go round, is about to depart. Tonya has been a God send these first 6 months we've been here... The boys adore her, we trust her implicitly, she has helped to make our transition seamless. Tonya has goals for her life, and its become clear to her that an 8-2pm chunk of time M-F doesn't leave much to realize those goals in.... so now we are in limbo with her. I fully support her finding what it is that will make her happy, but can't deny there is a selfish part of me that had grown comfortable with our routine.
Enter my Facebook post from Tuesday Night: "Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for it will worry about itself. Each day has enough troubles of its own" (I Googled it after the fact, and learned that verse comes from Matthew 6:34)
Yesterday I was worried about my family being sick, losing an amazing care provider for my boys, launching my first small group (today: Wednesday) as a co-leader (SUPER Scary), the house hunt we've just begun, and all the financial changes that will result in.
Yesterday I worried about a lot, and it did me NO good. None of my circumstances immediately changed as a result of my worry, it pretty much just festered, grew, and ultimately robbed me of a good evening. So today, I'm not gonna worry. If I look over the last 10 years of my life, all I can see are the little ways God stepped in gave me more than I could have hoped for: Meeting Kevin, majoring in Supply Chain, Moving to Austin, Dell, UT, Gateway Community Church, Caleb, Logan, internships for Kevin, offers/options, Oracle, and now DC, and our new church family here. There IS a plan, I just need to practice a little faith... WAY tougher to actually execute than write about!
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
A Lesson in Humility
Would you believe me if I told you that 8 little old ladies kicked my butt today? You should… because I’m ashamed to admit, it’s true.
I attended my first class at the Rec center today: “Power Pump Basics: A fast paced high energy workout using a barbell system burns fat while increasing metabolic rate”. Sounds pretty intense right? You can imagine my surprise when I walked in 5 minutes before the class started and there was a twig of a women pushing 70 talking with her pal, a regular, of about 65. Confused, I asked them if this was the Power Pump class, and thrilled at the prospect of a newbie they enthusiastically confirmed it was. I strongly considered bowing out, sure that spending the 55 minute class time on my own with free weights and an elliptical would certainly net a better workout that the one I had signed up for, however their excitement at ‘young blood’ joining them made me concede one class wouldn’t hurt. Boy was I wrong!
Over the course of the next 5 minutes, the rest of the posse rolled in, obviously regulars, because when Elaine entered the room the group broke out in Happy Birthday as she started her next Decade… 60… I have now confirmed I’m the youngest in the room by at least 30 years. The music starts, I’m digging the throw back to the 80’s music, and happily following along with the moves… but alas, I still look the part of the beginner, missing every transition by at LEAST one beat as the rest of the class flows seamlessly from move to move. Fifteen minutes in, my heartbeat is up, I’m quite warm and pleasantly surprised that my face is flush and I can ‘feel the burn’. Then the music shifts to rap. My 70 year old instructor tells the ladies, “don’t listen to the lyrics they’re simply awful, just follow the beat”, yet situated directly behind her, I can hear her singing along with the portions of the song that aren’t profane. Giggling profusely on the inside I follow along as the tempo jumps, though not for long, as I quickly realize this is WAY tougher than I thought and I need to focus if I’m going to keep up. Twenty minutes later we bring the aerobic portion to an end and I’m thoroughly spent. I also appear to be the highlight of my peers as they gush over how nice it is to see someone younger challenged by the moves as well…. Thanks ladies.
Next up we grab the free weights to incorporate into our moves. I grab a pair of 5lb weights, certain they won’t be a problem, and to ensure there would be plenty of the 3lb weights for the others. Within about 10 minutes of moving those five pounders, my arms thought they were going to fall off, and I’m wondering what in the heck is going on, that I can tote a 20 lb beast of a baby, and 36 lb toddler all around God’s green earth, yet my limbs start to quiver after the 25th rep of 5lb windmills?!? We moved to abs after that, and it was QUITE apparent that those muscles haven’t seen much action since I was Pregnant with Caleb 3 years ago, yowsa!
Over the course of the 55 minute class not only my body, but my pride, took a thorough beating. When the class ended a few of the ladies asked if they would see me again, acknowledging this isn’t generally what ‘my type’ expect. While I did originally expect a much younger demographic populating the class, I couldn’t deny that the workout fit the description of the class, and actually discovered I enjoyed the class make-up as it removed ANY self-consciousness I harbored. I think this might be the perfect place for me to dust off some of those long lost muscles, and when I’m not sucking gas in a room full of women twice my age+, maybe I’ll try to find a class of ~40-50 year old ladies… Cause after today, it’s quite obvious I’m nowhere near ready for a set of my own peers
I attended my first class at the Rec center today: “Power Pump Basics: A fast paced high energy workout using a barbell system burns fat while increasing metabolic rate”. Sounds pretty intense right? You can imagine my surprise when I walked in 5 minutes before the class started and there was a twig of a women pushing 70 talking with her pal, a regular, of about 65. Confused, I asked them if this was the Power Pump class, and thrilled at the prospect of a newbie they enthusiastically confirmed it was. I strongly considered bowing out, sure that spending the 55 minute class time on my own with free weights and an elliptical would certainly net a better workout that the one I had signed up for, however their excitement at ‘young blood’ joining them made me concede one class wouldn’t hurt. Boy was I wrong!
Over the course of the next 5 minutes, the rest of the posse rolled in, obviously regulars, because when Elaine entered the room the group broke out in Happy Birthday as she started her next Decade… 60… I have now confirmed I’m the youngest in the room by at least 30 years. The music starts, I’m digging the throw back to the 80’s music, and happily following along with the moves… but alas, I still look the part of the beginner, missing every transition by at LEAST one beat as the rest of the class flows seamlessly from move to move. Fifteen minutes in, my heartbeat is up, I’m quite warm and pleasantly surprised that my face is flush and I can ‘feel the burn’. Then the music shifts to rap. My 70 year old instructor tells the ladies, “don’t listen to the lyrics they’re simply awful, just follow the beat”, yet situated directly behind her, I can hear her singing along with the portions of the song that aren’t profane. Giggling profusely on the inside I follow along as the tempo jumps, though not for long, as I quickly realize this is WAY tougher than I thought and I need to focus if I’m going to keep up. Twenty minutes later we bring the aerobic portion to an end and I’m thoroughly spent. I also appear to be the highlight of my peers as they gush over how nice it is to see someone younger challenged by the moves as well…. Thanks ladies.
Next up we grab the free weights to incorporate into our moves. I grab a pair of 5lb weights, certain they won’t be a problem, and to ensure there would be plenty of the 3lb weights for the others. Within about 10 minutes of moving those five pounders, my arms thought they were going to fall off, and I’m wondering what in the heck is going on, that I can tote a 20 lb beast of a baby, and 36 lb toddler all around God’s green earth, yet my limbs start to quiver after the 25th rep of 5lb windmills?!? We moved to abs after that, and it was QUITE apparent that those muscles haven’t seen much action since I was Pregnant with Caleb 3 years ago, yowsa!
Over the course of the 55 minute class not only my body, but my pride, took a thorough beating. When the class ended a few of the ladies asked if they would see me again, acknowledging this isn’t generally what ‘my type’ expect. While I did originally expect a much younger demographic populating the class, I couldn’t deny that the workout fit the description of the class, and actually discovered I enjoyed the class make-up as it removed ANY self-consciousness I harbored. I think this might be the perfect place for me to dust off some of those long lost muscles, and when I’m not sucking gas in a room full of women twice my age+, maybe I’ll try to find a class of ~40-50 year old ladies… Cause after today, it’s quite obvious I’m nowhere near ready for a set of my own peers
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