I am very blessed to live about 10 minutes from my Grandma. She is 85 years old, and lives alone. She is one of the most fascinating women I have ever known.
She's beautiful, and stubborn, and so independent that she drives us all insane. Independent to her detriment at times, like when she insists on taking out her own trash even though she walks so slowly it takes her 45 minutes to get down her driveway and back in the house. She's a little too proud at times---doesn't want to use her walker, or her cane, or her powerchair, because it makes her look old. But she parks them all around her house and dusts them, I'm sure. Her "toys" look lovely, but I hope she knows she's fooling no one. I'm sure there are carpet dents below each item. And could she have a catastrophic fall? Absolutely. Does she listen to us? Rarely. But I do admire that she hasn't caved like so many older people. You give up a lot if you live to be 85, and you endure a tragic amount of loss, but she refuses to give up her right to determine her own destiny, and make her own decisions. And I admire her for that.
About once a week, sometimes more, I pop in on my Grandma before I pick Cooper up from preschool, just to see if she has any chores I can help with. We could talk forever. She is always more up on current events than I am. From People magazine to the daily newspaper---she's read it all. She does the crossword puzzle in the paper every single day in ink. And she watches the news and worries for people all over the world. That's one of her hobbies---worrying.
She has always been a big part of my life. I was her first granddaughter, second grandchild, and I spent a lot of time with her growing up. She is so supportive of my job, my mothering, she loves my husband....but she HATES my running. It's funny. She has a pic of me after my first marathon on her refrigerator, but she has spent hours lecturing me on how I am crippling my body with this activity. For a while I quit telling her about it, we just pretended I wasn't doing it, but we both knew I was. Then one day last summer, Jen, Traci, and I were running through town, and we saw her out in her yard. She was overheated and on the verge of passing out. We got her inside, got her a drink, I scolded her a bit (that street goes both ways apparently), and then we left. Strangely enough, she has seemed supportive of my running ever since. I have no idea why.
This morning before I left she hugged me and said, "You bring me great joy, you always have. I just wanted you to know that." She has told me that my whole life, but I never tire of hearing it. Everyone needs someone like that in their lives. Someone who just loves the tar out of you for no real reason. I am so grateful for her on such a cosmic level that I have no words for it. She has been one of the most influential people in my life. The world is going to be a lot colder place for me someday when my Grandma is no longer here. That's not an awful thing to think, by the way, she discusses death ALL OF THE TIME! She writes names in permanent marker on objects that she wants certain people to have when she dies. She references "my sale" quite often, which is her way of talking about an estate sale. She'll pass an object and say, "That's a family piece. Don't let that go into my sale." This morning she showed me more of her handiwork---momentos for grandchildren after she dies. I jokingly said to her, "Well, aren't you in a morbid little mood today." She just grinned. That's one of my favorite things about her. There is nothing I cannot say to her. My grandma intimidates most people. She comes across as very elegant and ladylike, and she likes things to be a certain way. Most people would be shocked if they knew some of the things she and I discuss. This morning I was trying to convince her that it is no longer necessary to iron towels, sheet, clothes, and that it's okay if she stops. Really. I told her, "Grandma, I never use my iron. I hate it. It's awful." She admitted she had recently stopped ironing, but she's ashamed of it, I can tell. I told her she should stop making her bed too, another utter waste of time. That made her laugh---she thought that was crazy talk. She probably thinks I really do make my bed. We also discussed whether we thought Hillary Clinton would run for President in 2016. We cover everything.
I don't know why I needed to get all of that out. I just wanted to remember how nice it is to be able to walk into Grandma's any time I want. What a blessing. I wish I could freeze time and it would always be this way.
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Thursday, January 24, 2013
sewing 101
Craft day! Yea!!!!
"Bring your sewing machine," says the Craft Leader/Jen.
Nooooooo.
I literally had to go into our storage closet, dig out my Singer, and then clean it off once I got to Jen's because it was covered in dust. Nasty!
But I do have to say this, it was the most positive experience I have ever had with the Singer. The Singer and I are not friends. But Jen is a good teacher. She does not follow any long, drawn out, time wasting rules of sewing. And when she gets angry/frustrated, she hits her machine and yells at it. This is behavior I can get behind!
Traci, with no previous sewing experience, was a newbie....and annoyingly enthusiastic. She kept saying, "I can't believe I'm sewing!" And she did a good job. I have to admit, I am just bitter. I am not very good at sewing. And I should be. My mom and my stepmom, and even my grandmother, all very good seamstresses. I get crabby when the Trooper even asks me to tighten a button on his uniform. Seriously, I have better things to do with 45 minutes. (You're seeing the problem here, aren't you?)
We made really cute elastic headbands for our daughters and ourselves---sequins, zebra, etc. And for a fraction of the cost that they sell these things for at sporting events. Usually they're $10 each. All of the supplies for the 8 we made was only $20, and there's still a lot left over. Cha-Ching!
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Best part of the day:
Jen: "I don't know what stunt you're trying to pull over there, Traci!"
Traci: "Stop yelling, you're scaring me!"
Aww, good times. Sisterly love.
"Bring your sewing machine," says the Craft Leader/Jen.
Nooooooo.
I literally had to go into our storage closet, dig out my Singer, and then clean it off once I got to Jen's because it was covered in dust. Nasty!
Traci's Singer---so new it had never left the box!
Traci, with no previous sewing experience, was a newbie....and annoyingly enthusiastic. She kept saying, "I can't believe I'm sewing!" And she did a good job. I have to admit, I am just bitter. I am not very good at sewing. And I should be. My mom and my stepmom, and even my grandmother, all very good seamstresses. I get crabby when the Trooper even asks me to tighten a button on his uniform. Seriously, I have better things to do with 45 minutes. (You're seeing the problem here, aren't you?)
We made really cute elastic headbands for our daughters and ourselves---sequins, zebra, etc. And for a fraction of the cost that they sell these things for at sporting events. Usually they're $10 each. All of the supplies for the 8 we made was only $20, and there's still a lot left over. Cha-Ching!
Best part of the day:
Jen: "I don't know what stunt you're trying to pull over there, Traci!"
Traci: "Stop yelling, you're scaring me!"
Aww, good times. Sisterly love.
Friday, January 18, 2013
handy
Braggy McBraggerson is in the house!
Last night, while I was single parenting so that the good citizens of Kansas could have my husband patrolling the roads, I...used...a...POWERTOOL!
Woo hoo and yea for me!
It was only a drill. I wasn't chain-sawing trees or anything. But you have to understand where I am coming from. My husband is extremely handy and helpful with tasks, DYI jobs, etc. It is not a chauvinistic thing, he just takes care of certain areas of our life so seamlessly that there is a lot I do not do for myself. I haven't mowed our lawn ever. I don't wash the cars. I only pump gas, like, 5 or 6 times a year. He just sees certain tasks as "his job" as the man of our house. And more power to him! I love him and I thank him for it, because heaven knows I have enough on my plate. The three little beggers/blessings who live here---they are my domain. My jobs---my domain. The kitchen---my domain. The laundry, however, is up for grabs. I have more pairs of underwear than the Trooper, so I can usually outlast him.
Anywho...
Last night while Ava was at the gym, the boys and I went to Lowe's and bought blinds for Aidan's bedroom. And I hung them up. Alone!!! I was going to wait for the Trooper, because that is what I would usually do, but sometimes you just need to feel self-sufficient. I poked around the garage for the required tools, looked at the directions, and I thought to myself, 'You have given birth and ran a marathon....of course you can do this!' And I did!!! And it took 100 times longer than it would have taken my husband! Haha! But that is okay, because I didn't even cuss in front of the children during the install, and I know he couldn't top that record. I started to...after the drill went crooked and crazy for the 3rd time....I even muttered, "Mo-ther...." and I look down to see Aidan looking up at me. It turned into a chant. "Mother...I am your mother....I am a mother....and I am setting an example..."(insert deep breath). I don't pretend to be perfect, but I try to limit my swearing to the last mile in a really bad run, or when I'm rapping. Yeah, I rap. In the car. After carpool drop-off. Me and Snoop Dogg.
(My husband must be SO proud right about now.)
Anway, loved the power tool. Next week Jen is going to make me learn to use my sewing machine. I think this may not go so swell. The Singer hates me, and I hate it.
Last night, while I was single parenting so that the good citizens of Kansas could have my husband patrolling the roads, I...used...a...POWERTOOL!
Woo hoo and yea for me!
It was only a drill. I wasn't chain-sawing trees or anything. But you have to understand where I am coming from. My husband is extremely handy and helpful with tasks, DYI jobs, etc. It is not a chauvinistic thing, he just takes care of certain areas of our life so seamlessly that there is a lot I do not do for myself. I haven't mowed our lawn ever. I don't wash the cars. I only pump gas, like, 5 or 6 times a year. He just sees certain tasks as "his job" as the man of our house. And more power to him! I love him and I thank him for it, because heaven knows I have enough on my plate. The three little beggers/blessings who live here---they are my domain. My jobs---my domain. The kitchen---my domain. The laundry, however, is up for grabs. I have more pairs of underwear than the Trooper, so I can usually outlast him.
Anywho...
Last night while Ava was at the gym, the boys and I went to Lowe's and bought blinds for Aidan's bedroom. And I hung them up. Alone!!! I was going to wait for the Trooper, because that is what I would usually do, but sometimes you just need to feel self-sufficient. I poked around the garage for the required tools, looked at the directions, and I thought to myself, 'You have given birth and ran a marathon....of course you can do this!' And I did!!! And it took 100 times longer than it would have taken my husband! Haha! But that is okay, because I didn't even cuss in front of the children during the install, and I know he couldn't top that record. I started to...after the drill went crooked and crazy for the 3rd time....I even muttered, "Mo-ther...." and I look down to see Aidan looking up at me. It turned into a chant. "Mother...I am your mother....I am a mother....and I am setting an example..."(insert deep breath). I don't pretend to be perfect, but I try to limit my swearing to the last mile in a really bad run, or when I'm rapping. Yeah, I rap. In the car. After carpool drop-off. Me and Snoop Dogg.
(My husband must be SO proud right about now.)
Anway, loved the power tool. Next week Jen is going to make me learn to use my sewing machine. I think this may not go so swell. The Singer hates me, and I hate it.
Monday, January 14, 2013
healthy
I am in currently in a healthy eating phase, which is always sad news for my family. This time Cooper, in particular, is being affected.
I am trying to lessen the amount of processed food that we all eat. Now I did say "lessen", and not "omit". We are not hippies for goodness sake. (Tangent alert: I told the Trooper I wanted a clothesline for our yard in the summer, to save on electricity, and he laughed so hard that he could not answer me. I am serious!)
Back to topic. Here is the number one target that I would like eradicated from my childrens' lives:
I am trying to lessen the amount of processed food that we all eat. Now I did say "lessen", and not "omit". We are not hippies for goodness sake. (Tangent alert: I told the Trooper I wanted a clothesline for our yard in the summer, to save on electricity, and he laughed so hard that he could not answer me. I am serious!)
Back to topic. Here is the number one target that I would like eradicated from my childrens' lives:
The Chicken Nugget
I still bought a bag today at the store. I think it's like cigarettes. To go cold turkey would create a very ugly environment. Coop would have serious withdrawal. I feel his pain. The other night I lay in bed, almost shaking, as I confessed my stress to my long-suffering husband:
"I'm sorry I'm being so irritable. I know that I am, I just can't help it! Part of the problem is....I use sugar like some people use nicotine, and the fact that I haven't had much lately is making me feel like I could kill someone!"
Isn't that ugly? I was about to cry, too. Healthy eating, as it turns out, makes you mean. So far I have attacked our honey wheat bread (B'bye!), my milk (so long 2%!), real cheese (I now use part-skim stuff that barely melts), and my desserts. I let myself have two real desserts a week. Without that allowance, I would no longer be welcome in free society. (Sigh.)
It hasn't all been hideous, though. I love to cook so I have been scouring the internet for recipes. Here are a few of my very favorite new finds.
Healthy Chicken Nuggets:
The Skinny Tuna Melt:
Spinach Lasagna Rolls:
And I am excited to try this one this week. I haven't tasted it yet, but my friend Theresa swears by it.
Zucchini Lasagna
That's what's cooking in my kitchen. Non artery-clogging, not too delicious food.
Sorry, family.
Friday, January 11, 2013
a queen
Happiness is watching the Trooper with Ava. Ava's daddy thinks she is the queen. It is irritatingly precious to watch. He does whatever she wants. Don't get me wrong, he usually does whatever I want to, but he has this ridiculous smile on his face when she orders him around, and I think he likes it. Whereas, he seems a lot grouchier when I boss him around.
She has a nickname for him, too. She calls him "Fluff" or "Fluffy". (Let the record show that I had to get special permission to divulge that fact to all of cyberworld.) Everyone in our daily life already knows, so it's not really a secret. It's all she calls him. Even when she makes him a card, it always reads "To Fluff", never "To Daddy". Do you know how sweet it is to see the Trooper in full uniform and a teeny little brunette bouncing around him, giving him orders, and calling him "Fluffy"? That is a man who has nothing to prove to anyone, and I love him for it.
**By the way, I highly recommend no one else call him this name. He is armed 90% of the time. He doesn't even like our sons to call him Fluff. Only Ava.
Ava had a gym meet last week, and she performed really well. She got a 9.40 on the beam, and she never fell. But she was off balance several times, almost wobbly. So guess who's daddy is having a balance beam custom made for her this week? He acted like I was neglectful when I admitted knowing such a thing existed for the home! I just didn't think it was necessary. Mea culpa.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v1kpJq2B4Zk
Another thing---Ava is totally unfazed when the Trooper is mad. The boys will hide from him if they think they've messed up. Not Ava. She just listens to him scold and then says something like, "Okay, Fluffy", or even better, she argues with him in a very amiable tone. I still remember two year-old Ava telling him, "I not afraid of you!" She was not lying.
But my very favorite might be the carrying to bed. No matter where she is in the house, she will go find him, jump in his arms, and say, "Carry me to bed!" It doesn't matter if she had to pass her room to get to him! Tonight when she gave the executive order, he told her 'no' because she was having a sleepover in the family room with her brothers. She answered, "Carry me anyway. I need to get some stuff from there." He carried her to her room, went back upstairs, and one minute later she exited her room with her pillow, her blanket, (humming to herself!), and trotted to the family room.
I hope she marries a man just like him. But those will be big shoes to fill.
She has a nickname for him, too. She calls him "Fluff" or "Fluffy". (Let the record show that I had to get special permission to divulge that fact to all of cyberworld.) Everyone in our daily life already knows, so it's not really a secret. It's all she calls him. Even when she makes him a card, it always reads "To Fluff", never "To Daddy". Do you know how sweet it is to see the Trooper in full uniform and a teeny little brunette bouncing around him, giving him orders, and calling him "Fluffy"? That is a man who has nothing to prove to anyone, and I love him for it.
**By the way, I highly recommend no one else call him this name. He is armed 90% of the time. He doesn't even like our sons to call him Fluff. Only Ava.
Ava had a gym meet last week, and she performed really well. She got a 9.40 on the beam, and she never fell. But she was off balance several times, almost wobbly. So guess who's daddy is having a balance beam custom made for her this week? He acted like I was neglectful when I admitted knowing such a thing existed for the home! I just didn't think it was necessary. Mea culpa.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v1kpJq2B4Zk
Beam Performance
Another thing---Ava is totally unfazed when the Trooper is mad. The boys will hide from him if they think they've messed up. Not Ava. She just listens to him scold and then says something like, "Okay, Fluffy", or even better, she argues with him in a very amiable tone. I still remember two year-old Ava telling him, "I not afraid of you!" She was not lying.
But my very favorite might be the carrying to bed. No matter where she is in the house, she will go find him, jump in his arms, and say, "Carry me to bed!" It doesn't matter if she had to pass her room to get to him! Tonight when she gave the executive order, he told her 'no' because she was having a sleepover in the family room with her brothers. She answered, "Carry me anyway. I need to get some stuff from there." He carried her to her room, went back upstairs, and one minute later she exited her room with her pillow, her blanket, (humming to herself!), and trotted to the family room.
I hope she marries a man just like him. But those will be big shoes to fill.
Wednesday, January 9, 2013
herpes
"Is herpes for real?" Ava asked innocently while I was cooking dinner.
Pretty sure I now need to see a chiro from the whiplash I sustained as my neck turned from the stove to see her sitting cheerily at the bar top. Holy moses, did she really just ask me that?!
"Where did you hear that word?" I asked casually. I was super proud of myself, after I recovered from the head spin. Even though I was wondering who I was going to ban from her life for discussing this topic, I did not even raise my voice an octave. My inner mom was chanting, "Don't scare her! Don't scare her! Be open-minded, be open-minded."
I'm a nurse, I can do the herpes talk....with a teenager. Not with a second grader. All of a sudden I knew, it must be canker sore related. That's an elementary school topic---canker sores/herpes virus connection, blah blah blah.
"Daddy and I read about it in my Magic Treehouse book." Huh? Ohhhh. Then it made sense. The Trooper is reading "Vacation Under the Volcano" to Ava and Hercules rescues Jack and Annie.
"Do you mean Hercules, Ava?"
"Oh...yes, that's it!"
Please, please, please do not let her be at school telling kids, or even worse, teachers, that we read to her about herpes.
Pretty sure I now need to see a chiro from the whiplash I sustained as my neck turned from the stove to see her sitting cheerily at the bar top. Holy moses, did she really just ask me that?!
"Where did you hear that word?" I asked casually. I was super proud of myself, after I recovered from the head spin. Even though I was wondering who I was going to ban from her life for discussing this topic, I did not even raise my voice an octave. My inner mom was chanting, "Don't scare her! Don't scare her! Be open-minded, be open-minded."
I'm a nurse, I can do the herpes talk....with a teenager. Not with a second grader. All of a sudden I knew, it must be canker sore related. That's an elementary school topic---canker sores/herpes virus connection, blah blah blah.
"Daddy and I read about it in my Magic Treehouse book." Huh? Ohhhh. Then it made sense. The Trooper is reading "Vacation Under the Volcano" to Ava and Hercules rescues Jack and Annie.
"Do you mean Hercules, Ava?"
"Oh...yes, that's it!"
Please, please, please do not let her be at school telling kids, or even worse, teachers, that we read to her about herpes.
But yea for innocence! I know our days are numbered.
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
small, but mighty
See that little, tiny, muscular girl on the blue block?
She is my favorite girl on the planet. Ever. And she's doing what she loves best. I truly thought my heart might beat out of my chest while watching her compete. I do not know how she copes with the pressure, but I am so very proud of her composure. She is tough. I remember her preschool teacher telling us, "I don't worry about Ava. She is small, but mighty!" Amen to that. Her daddy and I marvel at her every day. She is a very unique and special girl.
First Place in the All-Around -- Level III
Beam--9.40 2nd place
Bars--9.40 1st place
Floor--9.20 2nd place
Vault--9.10 2nd place
Saturday, January 5, 2013
dyson
I think that the Dyson vacuum could have stopped the feminist movement. Changed the whole direction of history.
Oh yes, I did say that. And I stand by it.
If I were a housewife back in the day, I would have begged to stay home and vacuum with my Dyson all day. Career, be damned. Attachments, people! The best, most cleverly engineered attachments ever!
I have vacuumed three sets of stairs TWICE in 10 days. That may be more than the previous 6 months.
The Trooper has wanted one for years, but I resisted. I can distinguish a need from a want. I was NOT going to pay that much for a vacuum when I had a perfectly acceptable Hoover, and I don't much care for the chore anyway. How stubborn and silly I used to be. I was ignorant. I just didn't understand.
Then my mother-in-law bought us one for Christmas. (Insert choirs of angels.)
And now we love it so much that we may add a 5th bedroom onto the house so it doesn't have to share. We used to store the Hoover in the garage. However, we have unanimously agreed that we cannot, and I mean CANNOT, put precious Dyson in the cold, dirty garage. (We don't call it "the" Dyson anymore. Just "Dyson". Like a person. Our new friend.)
Get one. Preferrably as a gift.
Friday, January 4, 2013
at peace
I think that the Dyson vacuum could have stopped the feminist movement. Changed the whole direction of history.
Oh yes, I did say that. And I stand by it.
If I were a housewife back in the day, I would have begged to stay home and vacuum with my Dyson all day. Career, be damned. Attachments, people! The best, most cleverly engineered attachments ever!
I have vacuumed three sets of stairs TWICE in 10 days. That may be more than the previous 6 months.
The Trooper has wanted one for years, but I resisted. I can distinguish a need from a want. I was NOT going to pay that much for a vacuum when I had a perfectly acceptable Hoover, and I don't much care for the chore anyway. How stubborn and silly I used to be. I was ignorant. I just didn't understand.
Then my mother-in-law bought us one for Christmas. (Insert choirs of angels.)
And now we love it so much that we may add a 5th bedroom onto the house so it doesn't have to share. We used to store the Hoover in the garage. However, we have unanimously agreed that we cannot, and I mean CANNOT, put precious Dyson in the cold, dirty garage. (We don't call it "the" Dyson anymore. Just "Dyson". Like a person. Our new friend.)
Get one. Preferrably as a gift.
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
new in 2013
I adore the celebration of a New Year, and the "clean slate/new beginning" feeling it brings. We had to scrap our original New Year's Eve plans due to snow and babysitter logistics, but I think our new plans may have been perfect. Italian Delight pizza, good friends, card games, kids running wild, and Happy 34th Birthday to the best husband ever! And to look out the window and see it snowing.....sigh....it was my favorite kind of night.
It was actually my favorite kind of day yesterday, too. Traci, Jen, and I had a personal training session with our friend, Maribeth. The girls and I got schooled. We may be able to run a marathon, but we are not in very good shape apparently.
Maribeth works out 6 days a week and never misses. Maribeth is cut. She has muscles that I want. Maribeth put in some serious work to get to her current state of glory. And for all of you that think you are too busy to work out like this, Maribeth is a physician and she has four, yes, I said FOUR children. No one is busier than her. No excuses.
So yesterday Maribeth came to the Y, and brought us our new workout plan. We learned a lot. We also whined a lot. The first sign that it had all gone terribly wrong (or right, I guess, if you're MB), was that when I came home to shower afterwards I could not get undressed. I didn't hurt, but my arms would not wrap around my body in such a way as to pull my shirt off.
Hmm. That seemed odd.
Then this morning I awoke at 5:30am in so much pain that I had to get out of bed and limp to the kitchen for Tylenol. Owwwwwwww. I hurt everywhere. I can't lift my arms! I can't walk down stairs! I couldn't even bend over to brush my teeth without wincing---that was a first! I also may need a grab bar installed next to the toilet, like old people have, because I can't get up once I sit down. I wanted to text my friends and make sure I was not alone in my misery, but we all stayed up until 11:30 last night and I thought that they might still be asleep. (Ha! Let that sink in. I want a grab bar for my bathroom, and on NYE we made it until 11:30!)
So I guess this will be my new normal for 2013. Tylenol, Ibuprofen, hot baths, crawling instead of walking....
Speaking of new in 2013, come and meet my new office!
I have two jobs at the present, one in the clinical field, and one where I work primarily from home. I have worked from home, at least part-time, for almost 3 years. I loved it, but it was hard. I had no real work space. Once upon a time we had a playroom---complete with a Noah's Ark mural. Then we put our house on the market for kicks, and painted the room a chocolate brown. (See my little desk. I worked while children played underfoot. Not ideal.)
Then my darling Trooper built walls and french doors for me. Voila! I now have my own office in the house where I can work, hide, blog, and Facebook in peace. The only downside may be that I can still hear the washer and dryer running. But that's okay, it keeps me multi-tasking.
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The desk was my Goodwill treasure find a couple of months ago. I wanted an L-shaped desk. I have a lot of charts and papers, and I like to spread out while I do research. But L-shaped desks are stupid expensive. So after months of searching, one day I popped into the Goodwill and saw a beautiful, heavy L-shaped desk for $50. But it was half-off day! $25!!! My dream desk for $25!!! (I am pretty sure Dave Ramsey just high-fived me.) I knew the Trooper would not like it on the showroom floor. Goodwill stores have kind of a funky smell, I get that. You have to think "diamond in the rough". So I called my only girlfriend with a truck big enough to help me. And bless her heart, Steph sensed the urgency in my plea and rushed right up to help.
And now that my desk is at home, even the Trooper likes it. It is in great shape, and it's beautiful---with heavy drawers and file cabinets and everything.
There you have it. A few of my resolutions in story form: spend time with people I love, learn to lift weights, work hard, save money.
Have a great new year.
It was actually my favorite kind of day yesterday, too. Traci, Jen, and I had a personal training session with our friend, Maribeth. The girls and I got schooled. We may be able to run a marathon, but we are not in very good shape apparently.
Maribeth works out 6 days a week and never misses. Maribeth is cut. She has muscles that I want. Maribeth put in some serious work to get to her current state of glory. And for all of you that think you are too busy to work out like this, Maribeth is a physician and she has four, yes, I said FOUR children. No one is busier than her. No excuses.
So yesterday Maribeth came to the Y, and brought us our new workout plan. We learned a lot. We also whined a lot. The first sign that it had all gone terribly wrong (or right, I guess, if you're MB), was that when I came home to shower afterwards I could not get undressed. I didn't hurt, but my arms would not wrap around my body in such a way as to pull my shirt off.
Hmm. That seemed odd.
Then this morning I awoke at 5:30am in so much pain that I had to get out of bed and limp to the kitchen for Tylenol. Owwwwwwww. I hurt everywhere. I can't lift my arms! I can't walk down stairs! I couldn't even bend over to brush my teeth without wincing---that was a first! I also may need a grab bar installed next to the toilet, like old people have, because I can't get up once I sit down. I wanted to text my friends and make sure I was not alone in my misery, but we all stayed up until 11:30 last night and I thought that they might still be asleep. (Ha! Let that sink in. I want a grab bar for my bathroom, and on NYE we made it until 11:30!)
So I guess this will be my new normal for 2013. Tylenol, Ibuprofen, hot baths, crawling instead of walking....
Speaking of new in 2013, come and meet my new office!
I have two jobs at the present, one in the clinical field, and one where I work primarily from home. I have worked from home, at least part-time, for almost 3 years. I loved it, but it was hard. I had no real work space. Once upon a time we had a playroom---complete with a Noah's Ark mural. Then we put our house on the market for kicks, and painted the room a chocolate brown. (See my little desk. I worked while children played underfoot. Not ideal.)
Then my darling Trooper built walls and french doors for me. Voila! I now have my own office in the house where I can work, hide, blog, and Facebook in peace. The only downside may be that I can still hear the washer and dryer running. But that's okay, it keeps me multi-tasking.
The desk was my Goodwill treasure find a couple of months ago. I wanted an L-shaped desk. I have a lot of charts and papers, and I like to spread out while I do research. But L-shaped desks are stupid expensive. So after months of searching, one day I popped into the Goodwill and saw a beautiful, heavy L-shaped desk for $50. But it was half-off day! $25!!! My dream desk for $25!!! (I am pretty sure Dave Ramsey just high-fived me.) I knew the Trooper would not like it on the showroom floor. Goodwill stores have kind of a funky smell, I get that. You have to think "diamond in the rough". So I called my only girlfriend with a truck big enough to help me. And bless her heart, Steph sensed the urgency in my plea and rushed right up to help.
And now that my desk is at home, even the Trooper likes it. It is in great shape, and it's beautiful---with heavy drawers and file cabinets and everything.
There you have it. A few of my resolutions in story form: spend time with people I love, learn to lift weights, work hard, save money.
Have a great new year.
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