Boot Camp

It's decided.

It's time for me to make some sacrifices, for the good of my country, my family, my self.

I'm off to Boot Camp.

Fortunately for me, I won't even have to leave my hometown, much less my kids and husband.

My Boot Camp is five minutes away, at our local YMCA.

Instead of a drill sergeant bellowing commands at me, I have an adorable friend leading the class, yelling words of encouragement over her microphone.

Instead of cadence, we have great tunes from the 80's and 90's to sweat to.

Instead of dying in the 90+ degree heat, we're "comfy" in our air-conditioned studio, with our water bottles at our side.

But even though this Boot Camp isn't near as tortuous as that of the military, it still kicks my boo-tay.

Which is exactly the point.

Getting over to the Y by 6am, dressed and ready to roll, takes discipline. Making it through SIXTY minutes of various circuits, weight-lifting, cardio and toning takes stamina. Trying not to limp around and whine too much the day after takes self-control.

Another month or two of this, and I think I might just get one of those VS bikinis. (Varicose veins be damned!)

(Thanks, Monica, for being such an awesome instructor. Watching your toned little body teach us how to properly lunge, plio-hop and football jog truly inspires me to push myself a little more each class. Girl, you seriously rock!)

A case study

A case study:

Determine the effect of sugar (in the form of chocolate donuts) on a certain four-year-old boy.




Supplies needed: boy and donuts.

Process: Take boy to local grocer. Allow boy to pick out a box of chocolate donuts and consume as many as his heart desires. Okay, I did limit the number to five. Five teensy-weensy little chocolate gems.

Test the theory: Once the sugar has kicked in, take boy to preschool. Drive home, scrapbook and listen to your new Kings of Leon CD. Forget all about the case study.

Crap! Jump in the van and race to the preschool to pick up the experiment, I mean, the boy.

When the boy's teacher approaches the van with boy in tow, both looking somber and rather upset, quickly forget about those donuts. Make appropriately stern comments about the boy requiring not one but TWO timeouts during the schoolday. Apologize profusely to teacher, drive home and promptly put boy to bed, in trouble for getting in trouble at school (house rules).

Remember the donuts. Oops.

Clearly the effect of sugar on the boy is hyperactivity, inability to follow directions, inability to control one's self, and general mayhem and destruction.

Lesson learned: Be a good mom and feed your boy a healthy lunch devoid of chocolate donuts before preschool. Save the donuts for when Daddy is in charge :)

Sorry, Gabe.

Now that's love.

It's almost that time of year.



Time to shop for a bathing suit.

So many decisions. Two-piece or one-piece, string or halter, thong or skirt...

I was thinking that I wanted to get a new bathing suit for our Disney trip. I've been working out faithfully for over a year now. In my head, I thought I'd be able to find the perfect suit in no time.

I was so wrong.

(Here's how it went):

I pick out two suits. Go to the dressing room. Put on the cute pink-striped halter top. Not bad.

Slip on the short-style bottoms. Look in the mirror. Turn and pivot.

Sit down and cry.

WTF?

Where on earth did all that cellulite come from? The varicose veins? The spider veins? The saggy boobs? Holy crap.

Pull out my cell phone. Place an emergency call to the local plastic surgeon. Make an appointment for STAT lipo/laser/implants. Get dressed. Dry my tears. Drive home.

I walk in the door in a foul mood.

I am greeted by three adoring faces and one hyper puppy. They hug me, they kiss me, they tell me how much they missed me. They love me.

Despite my shortcomings, they love me.

They could care less about my saggy boobs (it's all their fault, anyway). They don't even know what a spider or varicose vein is, much less care if my legs are covered with them.

I grab these three babies of mine. I hug them. I kiss them. We play Yahtzee. We laugh and love and have a grand ole time.

I pick up the phone and cancel that appointment.

Who needs a new swimsuit anyway?

It's a party!

Dear President Obama,

I have a secret. (I didn't vote for you.)

I really liked Sarah Palin, and was rooting for her to win (along with McCain, of course).

However, now that the election is over, and you are in the White House, I feel that as an American citizen I should stand behind my President.

Clearly, my four-year-old son feels the same way.

Did you know that there was a party held in your honor here in this very house? And Gabe was the host?

Yep, just this past Friday. You were surrounded by adoring fans (and Littlest Pets) as you rocked it out with your date, Gabriella. I gotta say, you were looking fine in your brown suit.



Maybe you had a little too much bubbly? 'Cause it seemed like you needed a lot of help walking around... (Gabriella is looking quite soused herself; you two sure know how to party it up!)




Thank goodness this guy was there to give you a hand.

Mr. President, as much as I have decided to stand behind you, and our country, I feel the need to make a suggestion: lay off the sauce, stay away from young Disney actresses and stop partying with my preschooler. People will talk, you know...

Sincerely,

A concerned citizen

This post was inspired by Gabe, the man with the imagination. Last Friday while I was doing chores, he came running to find me and request that I take yet another "pitcher" in Sissy's room. When I asked why, he said "I'm having a Barack Obama party! Come on and take a pitcher, hurry, hurry!!!". Of course, I obliged, dying to see what brought this "party" on. He had found Isabel's High School Musical 3 Barbies, and was convinced that mini-Zac was actually Barack Obama. He was hosting a "president party", which he played for over an hour. This boy cracks me up!

Of this I am sure...

I don't know about y'all, but I am pretty much done with this:




and am definitely ready for some of this:



Green grass. Worms and lightning bugs. Short sleeved shirts. Little League baseball. Cheering for our team 'til my throat hurts. Getting Dairy Queen soft-serve after the game.

Thank God February is only 28 days.

Even if March is cold, at least it sounds warmer.

Oh, spring, I miss you so.

Playlist

Yesterday Joe deleted all the songs on my (his) iPod.

Gasp.

Actually, I asked him to. I needed a change. I needed a "running" playlist, one that will inspire me to run miles and miles without pause.

I found a lot of great songs.

It got me wondering...

Do you have an iPod? Do you have a running playlist? What are your top five favorite songs? If you were stranded on a desert island with Sawyer, what would be "your song" (you know the one that puts you both in the mood in two seconds flat)?

Oh, baby...

I love all kinds of music, as you can see from my playlist below.



Gospel, country, rock, Christian rock, classic rock, kids' tunes...you get the idea.



I'm not totally hip on new music, though. I want to be; it's just hard when you have certain children in the van who have an opinion on what they want to listen to (or watch on the DVD player, as the case may be).



My sister, Michelle, is way hip on the new stuff, though, being the mother of two teenagers. She amazes me with her musical prowess.



When we visited Lula last fall, I knew this was one subject that I could take a backseat to (quite literally; Michelle and Lula sat upfront, I chilled in the back). Those two sang and talked and rhapsodized to their hearts' content, and I was quite happy to be along for the ride. I may not know the title or the band, but I do love the music.



That being said, when Lula asked if Michelle and I would be interested in seeing Kings of Leon with her in May, in our hometown, of course I said YES! I love live music, and this group seriously rocks! Not to mention that I love spending some quality time with the queen of the iPod herself :)

I'm not sure who is the hottest. I'm sure each one of them will be looking fine up on that stage, though. Crooning Sex on Fire to the three of us. Oh, baby...

I'm seeing another blog countdown ticker in my future (after Disney, that is). Jenny, I'm sorry Washington is so freakin' far away. If there is any chance you can hop on a plane and come to Cincy, you know you are so invited.

Bible Study

Thanks, Betty, for reminding me that it's Blog Bible Study day today. The 15th crept up on me this month. Where on earth does the time go?

Doing my Beth Moore study has introduced me to scriptures I either have never seen, or haven't seen in a long time.

One of these verses is from Hebrews 6, verses 10 through 12:

God is not unjust; he will not forget your work and the love you have shown him as you have helped his people and continue to help them. We want each of you to show this same diligence to the very end, in order to make your hope sure. We do not want you to become lazy, but to imitate those who through faith and patience inherit what has been promised.

My concordance explains it like this: "It's easy to get discouraged, thinking that God has forgotten us. But God is never unjust. He never forgets or overlooks our hard work for him. Presently you may not be receiving rewards and acclaim, but God knows your efforts of love and ministry. Let God's love for you and his intimate knowledge of your service for him bolster you as you face disappointment and rejection here on earth."

Basically, sometimes your life on earth may suck. Your hard work of being a mom, a wife, a nurse, a daughter may go unnoticed. You don't get a raise, an award, or even a thank you. But God sees it all, and will reward us when we finish our job here and report to Heaven for our next "career". Hang in there; it will be worth it in the end.

A VD Tribute

A VD Tribute to my Stallion:

(Thanks for the title inspiration, Suzanne!)


Joe, a VD (as in "Valentine's Day", which is today, in case you forgot) poem just for you. 'Cause I love you that much.

How do I love thee, Joe? Let me count the ways...

I love thee when you go to Vegas and buy me a dress as a souvenier, and take me out to dinner to Maggiano's when you get back home.




I love thee when you teach our baby how to perform WWF Smackdown moves in the middle of Longhorn Steakhouse, as we wait for our dinner. You always know how to keep him entertained!

I love thee when you get our shy daughter out on the dance floor and show her how to groove. I always have loved watching you dance.

I love how even though you were in the wedding, and had "attendant duties" to perform, you still took time to make sure the kids and I were doing okay. And stop for a few photos (in front of the port-a-potties) with me. I love how handsome you are.

I love thee when you coach Elijah's baseball team, and encourage him to pitch and play infield and outfield and improve his batting skills, even though it's hard to coach when you have other parents who think their way is better. I love that you were able to hold your tongue (when I know I couldn't have) when said parents had to let you know exactly how their way was superior to yours. I love that Elijah was oblivious to all of this drama because you never let it interfere with your relationship with him.

I love thee when you take Isabel out on a date to Olive Garden, and snuggle up on the couch with her afterward to watch the girlie movie of her choice. You are an awesome dad to our daughter.

I love thee when you set a good example of going to church, even teaching your men's Sunday School class, going on mission trips, helping out with miscellaneous chores around the church, and being a Christian father and husband. I love that sometimes you decide to skip church, though, and want to spend time together just as a family.

Joe, you know I don't need candy, or flowers, or even jewelry this year. Planning our family vacation to Disney truly is gift enough. I can't wait to make some great memories with our kids, and with you.

I love you.

Happy Valentine's Day.

Priceless

13 sheets of pink cardstock: $3.00
Valentine-y ribbon, 3 spools: $3.00
Heart shaped brads: $1.50 (on sale at Hobby Lobby :)
Heart punches: borrowed for free (thanks, Mamaw Kay!)
Suckers: $1.00
Having a daughter who loves to scrapbook almost as much as me, requesting that we make her Valentines for school instead of buying a $2.00 box of Hannah Montana ones: PRICELESS.

So, how are you getting ready for Valentine's Day?

Advantages

As some of you may know, I am the baby of my family. Mom was married once before, and had two girls, Michelle and Kim. Dad was married, also, and had one daughter, Rhonda. After divorcing their respective spouses, Mom and Dad met, married and had me, their only baby together.

To say I was spoiled is putting it lightly. We never had much money, but I was beyond showered with love and attention from my older sisters. Michelle was nine when I was born, and I was like a living baby doll for her. She taught me to read when I was only four years old, sitting beside me on the old tweed couch reading me the same books over and over again...

Being the baby, I got lots of things my sisters didn't. New Barbies, Cabbage Patch dolls, a car when I turned sixteen (it was Mom's old '84 Chevette, but still drivable), a trip to Washington D.C. my senior year... I was the last one left at home, there was a bit more money, and frankly, Mom and Dad were too exhausted to ever say no to me.

Probably the biggest advantage I had, though, was the opportunity to get orthodontia.

Just ask Rhonda.

I only hope she can afford to get the much needed orthodontia for my nieces...

Are you laughing yet?

Did you think this was gonna be another one of my sappy posts?

Ha! Gotcha!

What are they called?!

Scenario: A thirsty Gabe runs out of the Childwatch center of our YMCA, heading for the drinking fountain.

Which is blocked by two very senior citizens, having an intense conversation (about what, I'm not sure). They are oblivious to this boy's dire need for a cold drink of water.

Gabe looks at me for help. I tell him to politely say "excuse me", which he does.

The elderly man moves first. Gabe climbs up the stool, gets his drink, and walks away. The couple continue their conversation.

As we walk down the hall, Gabe is deep in thought. (I can tell, 'cause he's being really quiet.)

He says to me, "I said 'scuse me to that poor man. Oh, that poor man, Mommy. Did you see that poor man?"

I look back at the "poor man", to see if maybe he was using a cane or a walker or had an obvious disability. Nope, nothing I could see.

I ask Gabe why he called him a "poor man".

"Oh, Mommy, he was a poor man. He had crinkles all over him! Did you see those crinkles?!"

Of course, another woman is walking along side of us, listening to this entire conversation, cracking up at the last part. I come thisclose to peeing my pants, struggling to hold in the giggles.

I explain to Gabe that we all get crinkles when we get old. Whether we like it or not.

(And that's why God invented Botox.)

I will never think of crinkles, I mean wrinkles, without a giggle again.

Late Night with Lula of Lulaville

Welcome, welcome to tonight's edition of Late Night with Lula! I was invited (okay, I begged) to have a chance to be interviewed by the famous blogger, Lula of Lulaville. She kindly submitted a plethora of questions for me to choose from for some tasty blog fodder this week. There were some questions I had no intention of answering on live, well, internet; but there were five that I deemed my answers to be slightly interesting enough to not bore y'all to tears. Here goes:

Lula: Heather, everyone has been blessed with a talent, be it big or small. What's yours, and do you use it often?

Me: I had to think about this one long and hard. (That's what she said. Ahem.) But then I realized this is the PG version of blogland, and my answer would have to be scrapbooking. I've been scrappin' for over ten years now, and making cards and handmade gifts for almost that long. I love to make someone's day by giving them a card that I made just for them.

Lula: If you could have one superpower, what would you want? How would you use it?

Me: I would want to fly. I've had flying dreams for as long as I can remember, and they fascinate me. If I could fly, just imagine the daring rescues I could make! I could swoop down and protect Rob from the masses of Twilight-crazed girls, taking him to my Batcave and comforting him until he was recovered from the trauma...

Lula: If you had an entire day to spend by yourself, with plenty of money at your disposal, what would you choose to do?

Me: Um, you already know my talent/obsession, right? Honestly, if I had a whole day to myself with lots of money, I would build a new scrapbooking room that opened up into my gardens by way of French doors. I would hire Becky Higgins to come and help me organize all of the papers/embellishments/etc and train me on the use of my new Canon Rebel camera and 12x12 printer complete with a new computer and Adobe Photoshop software. Hey, you asked!

(Here's what my current room looks like. I love it, truly I do, but a girl can dream, right?)

Lula: You stumble upon a time machine that will only go back through time. Where will it take you? What will you do in that period of time?

Me: My first thought was I'd like to be in the times of the pioneers, like Laura Ingalls. But then I remembered how awesome it was to read The Outlander series by Diana Gabaldon, and I think my answer is 18th century Scotland. I will find my own Jamie Fraser, heal the sick and wounded, learn to become a doctor like Claire, and have lots of Scottish babies. The end.

Lula: One more question, Heather, before Rob Pattinson is due to come out on stage (he may need to be rescued, just sayin'). What is your all-time favorite book? Movie? TV show? Song?

Me: Um, Lula, that's more than one question, that's like, four. Okay, here goes:

Book: The Stand, by Stephen King. I have read this book at least ten times. I love it. Oh, Stu, you're so fine...

Movie: It's a Wonderful Life. I love James Stewart. I love the storyline. I love the memories of watching it every single year, at least twice, with my dad.

TV show: You must ask? Of course it is Lost. Especially now that we're getting some answers to all the mysteries of the first few seasons.

Song: The first church song I ever learned all the words to was "This is the Day". Elijah sang it in front of our whole congregation when he was three, and it has remained my favorite song ever since.

Now...I would love to interview you and you and you. So here is what you do:

1. Leave me a comment saying, "Interview me."

2. I will respond by emailing you five questions. (I get to pick the questions).

3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.

4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.

5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions. So come on--let's get to know each other better. And do not fear potential questions--I promise to play very nice.

Thanks, Lula! I had fun playing along. Now, I've gotta go rescue Rob...

Joy

This is the face that met me at the door after working my shift at the hospital:

Gabe wrapped his little arms around my legs, hugged me tight, and proclaimed, "I'm SO glad you're here, Mommy!" with such sincere joy in his sweet voice.

Man, I love this boy.

Many of you have never met Gabe, but I'm sure you feel that you know him after reading this blog. Truly, he is this darn cute every single day. Some days he exhausts me (those days are fewer since turning four). Some days he frustrates me (he will NOT leave our pets alone, even when they are clearly done playing). But every day he LOVES me. He wants a hug, a "snuggie", the reassurance that I love him and that I am, indeed, his "special" friend.

Hello, how could I not be? His zest for life is absolutely contagious!

Doing this Bible study has introduced me to some new scripture, and I found one that suits Gabe to a T:

"You shall go out in joy, and be led forth in peace; the mountains and the hills before you shall break forth into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands."

Isaiah 55:12

Can't you just picture this? I surely can. God blessed us with this bundle of joy in the shape of a boy, knowing that he would be exactly what this momma needs.

God is good like that.

Sixty-four

(Warning: tearjerker post ahead; tissues may be needed)

February 7th.

What would have been my dad's sixty-fourth birthday.

Four years ago, we celebrated with him for the last time. He had already been diagnosed with lung cancer and was getting ready to start chemo and radiation. He was feeling okay, and it was a good day.

I don't just want to dwell on the end, though.

I found some scrapbook pages that I wanted to share, so you could get a glimpse of the man who called me his "tiger". It's fitting, because the first two photos are pages from a scrapbook that I made for Dad on his birthday in 2001. It was a book filled with my memories of the two of us...


Senior year of high school. Love the big hair. Mine kept getting longer and thicker, Dad's kept getting shorter and gray-er. Good thing I was the last kid. Dad helped me buy my first car. It was no Corvette, but I loved it!

Fast forward four years. I graduated nursing school, got a job (much to Dad's relief, I'm sure, although he used to say I should join the Navy and be a Navy nurse...I don't know why), and met Joe. Dad was a quiet man, and he didn't usually give any advice, but he supported every single decision I ever made. I loved him for that.

The top photo is Dad surrounded by his two younger brothers, Dan and Tom. The bottom photo is one of my favorite, dancing at my wedding reception. I always did love how tall he was (6' 5"). Someone I could look up to, quite literally.


These next pages are from my family scrapbook. This was our last Easter together. Dad loved hiding the eggs for the kids, and the year before he even put gold $1 coins in each egg.

I love these photos for many reasons. Our last Easter together. Dad still feeling relatively good, despite the chemo. The way you can see just where Gabe got his olive complexion (Dad was this tan in March, folks, always). All three of my kids with both of my parents, smiling and content.


Finally, our last birthday with Dad, in 2005. I couldn't scan the whole page, thus the cut-off body parts...sorry. It took a long time for me to be able to make this page (a year), and I cried so hard that I cut my thumb with my paper-cutter and had to take a first-aid break. It was truly therapeutic for me, though, a way to deal with all the emotions of losing my dad. Kind of like this post.


Sixty is such a young age to die. I take care of eighty-year-olds all the time, and some days it makes me sad that we didn't get to have more time together. But you know, it was sixty good years, and I got to be there for over half of them. My dad was nowhere near perfect, but he was mine and I loved him.



Happy Birthday, Dad. I can only imagine what you're doing right now, but I know one day we will see each other again, and I can fill you in on everything you've missed, and you can do the same.



I love you.

Never say "never"!

When am I ever gonna learn?

I always thought I'd be a wise old woman by the time I hit thirty-five.

I'm still a young thirty-five. I have 8 more months 'til I turn thirty-six. Maybe I'll learn my lesson by then.

Which lesson is that, you ask?

The one in which you learn to never say "never"; you know, that one.

As in, I would never let my kids jump on a bed.


(at least it was a hotel bed)

Or how about this one: I would never be a runner. Me? Run in a race? *Scoff*.

(Um, yeah, just signed up to run the 15K (that's 9 miles, folks) with some work buddies. Been training for two weeks now; the race is March 29th.)

Oh, and here's one more: I will never get sucked into the world of Facebook. Never.

Well, after receiving "invitations" from my father-in-law and brother-in-law (who is in Iraq), I felt like I should do it, just to keep in touch with Joe's family.

Yeah, right.

Within minutes of signing up, I was finding friends I went to high school with, blogger friends, co-workers, etc. Jeez, the whole world has been on Facebook and I'm just now figuring it out. Oh, well. I'm on board now.

So it is with a sheepish grin and a slightly bowed head that I eat my piece of humble pie and try to learn my lesson.

I will never say never again...

Copycat sister (Happy B-Day Lizzy)

Michelle did such a good job on her cartoon art, I went and copied it. Help us all celebrate Lizzy's birthday by leaving her some comment love over at her place. Happy Birthday, Lizzy! We love you!

"Mom's Chicken Rice Soup"

One of my favorite recipes from my mom's archives is her homemade chicken rice soup. When I moved out on my own, this was the first one I had her write down for me, and I have made it countless times since. It is the one meal that every single member of my family loves, even asking for seconds, please!

I've had several requests to blog about it, so girls (and Matt), here it is. Photos first, recipe at the end...

First, gather your ingredients. Minus the Cuties.


Next, place your chicken in a pot of water with some extra celery. You really need split chicken breasts with the skin on, or a whole chicken cut up, to make a good broth.


I use frozen onion, chop the celery with the leaves, and use a vegetable peeler to grate the carrot.

Saute your veggies for the last 15 minutes of your chicken cooking.

The hardest (and messiest) part of the whole recipe is deboning the chicken. Is that even a word? Sounds kind of, sexy...

Where was I?

Oh, yeah, after you debone the chicken and put it back in the pot, I simmer it for another ten or fifteen minutes (while the rolls or biscuits are cooking).

For the kids, I pour their bowls at least five minutes before calling them to dinner, and they still need an ice cube. This soup really holds its heat.

Ladle up and enjoy!

"Mom's Chicken Rice Soup" recipe

Ingredients:

A.) 2-4 large chicken breasts (skin on); 8 cups water; 1 tsp salt.

B.) 2 Tbsp oil; 1 large carrot, grated; 2 stalks celery with leaves, chopped; 1 med onion, diced; 2 Tbsp flour (before adding to soup).

C.) 1 cup long-grain rice (not instant); 1 tsp salt; 1/2 tsp pepper; 1/2 tsp thyme; 1 Tbsp lemon juice.

Bring (A) to a boil in a large soup pot, then simmer for approx 50 minutes.

When (A) is almost done, saute (B). Do not add flour yet.

When (A) is done, remove chicken and let cool. Remove 1 cup of broth. Add flour to (B), stirring well, then add broth. Stir until thickened, then add to pot.

Add (C) to pot, bring to a boil, then cover and simmer for at least 20 minutes. Debone your chicken and add to soup (careful of the little bones).

I usually add a dash of celery salt, extra salt and extra pepper to my recipe. If you are a salt-a-holic like me, you'll want to do the same.

If you are lucky enough to have leftovers, this soup is even better the next day.

Enjoy!

Groundhog's Day

Dear Punxsutawney Phil:

You suck.

Sincerely,

A sick-and-tired-of-snow-and-ice-and-school-cancellations-mom

(If you didn't see the news today, Phil saw his shadow. And then, like the woos-bag he is, hightailed it back into his hole for another six weeks of winter. What a wimp.)

Blog Bible Study

Thank God it's February.

(Oh, that's not in the Bible. Maybe it should be, 'cause just saying "It's February" fills me with hope...)

Okay, seriously, here is my verse for the blog bible study. Obviously, a lot of us have been dealing with a bad case of the winter blues. This scripture is meant for us:

"But those who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength;

They shall mount up with wings like eagles,

They shall run and not be weary,

They shall walk and not faint."

Isaiah 40:31

My concordance says,

"Even the strongest people get tired at times, but God's power and strength never diminish. His strength is our source of strength. When you feel all of life crushing you and cannot go another step, remember that you can call upon God to renew your strength."

Um, was this verse meant for me right now or what?

Not only in the big things like making it through another day with my sanity intact (see previous post), but also in the little things like choosing which race to run (15K vs 5K). Shall I put my trust in God to the test?

I think I shall.

Happy Sunday, everyone.

(Please, God, hear my prayer also that the Steelers LOSE today. Amen.)