Yesterday and the Land of Lincoln

Yesterday I did the unthinkable: I watched tv (okay Netflix) all day long.

*gasp*

At Kelly's insistence I've gotten hooked on Jane the Virgin which has upped the number in the overlap of the venn diagram of tv shows Kelly and I like.

Chris is making breakfast for the kids right now. I'm making a venn diagram of tv shows my sister and I like. He's a patient man. Although... he doesn't know that's what I'm doing... bwah ha ha ha!

Back to yesterday. Yesterday I dropped kids off at school and then came home and crashed on the couch. My brother was passing through town and I met him for some great Tex-Mex and then I came home and crashed again until it was time to pick up kids. Guys, I don't think I've EVER spent a school day like that. It was great. Certainly not something I want to do regularly but once a semester or so for sure.

After picking up the kids from school we did this:

My parents gave Chris a HUGE container of Lincoln Logs for Christmas. See that huge blue container? When all of the Lincoln Logs are in it... it's FULL. My plan is to sneak all of the train tracks out of Nils' room one day when he's napping so we can build a huge log cabin village with a train running all through it. I would include Nils except that the majority of the time he plays construction games with us we dub him "Godzilla."

Yesterday was great. Today: a trip to the library, a huge trip to the grocery store, and of course, the Lincoln Log container is already open.

3 pm update

Damn, I love my washing machine and dryer. I don't think I ever ever use them without feeling so thankful to have them. Seriously.

We started the day off on the right foot with Nils' choice of Barney (yes, really) which meant that I got to take a shower in peace. Alleluia! Thank you Barney! I also reorganized our pantry. I would like to say "cleaned out" but we all know that's a lie. I just rearranged. Then, I decided it was high time to face the laundry I've ignored for pretty much a month. Chris was down to nothing. He probably wore a suit to work today. Or a swimsuit.

Mysteriously the majority of Carolena's laundry was leotards and costumes. Okay, not mysteriously. OBVIOUSLY. That kid.

After Barney I announced it was time to go to Target which we never do. No, that isn't sarcasm. I don't actually like going to Target. *gasp* We (cough I cough) went nuts in the 90% Christmas clearance and came home with a ton of wrapping paper and tags and Christmas galore. Hooray for 35 cent wrapping paper! We ran into an aquaintance there who looked at my cart like I was nuts. And of course said something snarky. She would. Umm... but she's the one whose nuts, right? I just spent 3 bucks on $30 worth of wrapping paper. *insert massive eye rolling*

The kids requested McDonald's for lunch and as I was/am determined to have a great day, we went off to the land of Happy Meals. And now... they're both asleep.

All is calm. The dryer is doing all the work. Sure, there is a grocery list to be made and a heck of a lot of laundry to be folded. There is still stuff covering the dining room table that needs to be put away. There's dinner to be made. But for now... quiet. Calm. Now, where did I leave my book?

2015

January

February

March

April

May

June

July

August

September

October

November

December

I DID IT!

Last year I actually made a 2015 New Year Resolution.
And then even more surprisingly, as of this morning, it is now safe to officially say: I DID IT!
I went to 515am Bodypump and Bootcamp for the entirety of 2015.

I wish I'd thought to do a formal "before" photo back in January. It honestly just didn't occur to me. I knew that I would stick with it. I knew that it would be transformative. I just didn't think to take a before pic. Here's the best I've got:

December 2014

I was in pretty good shape this time last year. I was going to BodyPump twice a week and lifting a "normal" amount of weight for a female. At least I'm just guessing that was what an average female is lifting in Bodypump based on the fact that I was lifting around what every other female in my class was lifting.

Then for NY15 I resolved to not miss a work out. I was already going to 515am m/w BodyPump regularly and showing up for Friday bootcamp every once in a while so my resolution was to go to m/w BodyPump and Friday 515am Bootcamp. Every week. The only legitimate excuses were migraine or being out of town.

And then... I did it. I went. And I went. And I went. I missed a few summer bootcamps while I was on vacation (but sadly, not too many. note to self: go on vacation more). I missed a few classes along the way due to migraines (but thankfully only like one or two!). But overall... I didn't miss. I'm always there. I've practically worn a hole in the floor from the door to "my" spot. I've become a fixture in those classes. People I don't know know my name. The instructor sometimes talks to me during the class (like, in her microphone). When I do miss, people notice and asks where I was.

Weird, right?

But it's not weird anymore... it's now my normal. Which is weird.

So, one full year of working out. What's changed? Well, I'm a heck of a lot stronger. The resolution was simply to show up. But I found that I started focusing on getting stronger and competing against myself. I didn't want to just show up and then end 2015 where I started. I wanted to keep moving up in my weights. Bodypump is all about high reps for lean muscles rather than bulking up. So for instance we might do like 100 reps of different bicep curls. I think I've almost tripled my bicep weights from what I was lifting a year ago. Now when I look around I'm lifting what most of the men in the room are lifting. Meanwhile, bootcamp has driven me in such a way that my doctors are thrilled when they read my blood pressure numbers on their charts. People assume that I've lost weight. Interestingly, I haven't. I'm a Weight Watchers Lifetime Member so I know that I have lost exactly three pounds. I think I've dropped two pant sizes though. Can I just say "weird" again? Physically, I've just become a person who works out regularly, intensely, for an hour three times a week. And it feels great.

It's also been good for me emotionally. I like to say "it's cheaper than therapy!" even though it isn't since therapy would be free on our insurance. So... yeahhh... it is good for me though. There's something great about going to the gym three times a week where only two people know anything about me. I just sweat and work hard and make weird faces and talk to myself in the mirror (usually something to the tune of "oh just do it!" when I'm about to drop a heavy weight). It feels good to set small goals (like add a weight or run faster) and then accomplish them.

This morning right after my last workout of the year I asked Chris to take my picture (nothing like looking worse in your "after" photos, right?). I was pretty tempted to just upload a picture of Chris with his big bushy beard as my after photo. Ha! But I can't find one so I guess I'll just show you what I've been working on.

2015: the year of exercising.
Now I need something to keep me motivated for 2016. Uh oh... any ideas?

This Morning

This morning I can't help but wonder how many Americans who are angry, scared, prejudiced against Muslims have ever actually really known anyone who is Muslim.

This morning I am worn out from yesterday... a day that began full of promise and list item check-offing. A day that crashed into a migraine with aura (the worst scariest kind), a sore upper back (the spot on my body where I used to repeatedly pull the same muscle and thus was freaked out that I might pull it again and be unable to move for days), and a sick Nils. Luckily, migraines with aura (though I lose my vision due to the aura and they hit fast and hard) don't tend to last very long (a few hours) so I was out of bed by the evening and able to help Chris when he found that Nils had thrown up in his bed and merely scooted over and gone back to sleep. So, with sore head and sore back I slept on Nils' floor and awoke periodically with him to "shush" him back into slumber.

This morning I keep thinking about Sarah Condon's latest for Mockingbird: Of Lice and Life and the Relief of Naming the Mother in the Room. Yes, yes, that resonates around here.

This morning I am relieved to have an email from the church where I have been the guest speaker as of late, telling me that people have been talking about the topic and anyone who has missed one has been worried about what they missed. Whew. I put so much work into teaching and it's hard to tell if people care or not. It's nice to know when they care.

This morning I'm thinking about the things that I can do while staying home all day with poor Nils. Laundry of course... because there is always freaking laundry. Perhaps I should pack for the wedding. Thanks to Kelly, grandmothers expect kids' hand print ornaments every year so I better get those rolling. I shouldn't complain because they are awesome and I'm happy to have them as well... but dang, Kel, you couldn't have chosen easier hand print ornaments to make each year than sewing them?! Those are a labor of love far above and beyond any pot of caramel corn.

This morning kids are watching Thomas the Tank Engine and I'm just thinking about how someday they'll be old enough to watch 30 Rock and they'll be like, "what is this crap? This is so weird! What year is this from?... and wait... I know that voice... is that guy the narrator from Thomas?!" and I'll just say, "Beetlejuice! Beetlejuice! Beetlejuice!"

Mary Has Chosen the Better Part

Currently reading: still in the depths of Benjamin Franklin. As it turns out if you just read a paragraph here and there when you steal a minute or two to read... then it takes forever to read a book. Better than not reading though.
Number of cups of coffee gulped down this morning: wouldn't you like to know? Hmph. Yeah, like I'd admit that number. You'd probably send that info straight to my neurologist. I don't need that kind of blackmail information hanging out there.
Number of various to-do and check-offs and grocery lists and what-nots stacked up in the kitchen: too many.


I'm not the person who gets caught up in the Christmas consumerism. Oh Heaven's no. Have you met me? No, no, no. I am guilty of the same thing Martha is in Luke (10:38-42). Martha, as it turns out, is "distracted by her many tasks" (Luke 10:40).

In the Greek it actually says that she was distracted by her ministry.

So, what have I been distracted by this Advent season? Well, I'm teaching an adult forum on Luke. I spent a million hours stuck at our stove while I labored over caramel corn for librarians and teachers and various other people for whom we give thanks (side note: thanks a lot Houston December humidity for ruining so much of that). We brought cookies to the employees at the Goodwill near our house. We've got a huge thing of chocolate bark peppermint candy that needs to be packaged and given away. Gatorade and candy packets are waiting for the recycling truck guys to pass by so that I can run out with a cheering Nils on my hip. A hundred packets of Martha Stewart's hot cocoa we're made for the church Christmas party. I'm in charge of the craft for Nils' Christmas party so instead of being a "normal" mom and just buying some sort of kit I wanted to use things we already had on hand and created a bunch of snowmen for them to glue together. Of course. Logical. And all family gifts have been carefully created or selected, wrapped, and put away. Well, almost all.

Yes, Martha, I too have been distracted by my ministry. That's the kicker about Advent, isn't it? Even if you're doing good things, they can still be insanely distracting. And the problem for me is that I love it. I love all of those things. As my sister always reminds me, we all have the same amount of time and just choose how we spend it. I, for one, don't watch tv. And ever since my Facebook epiphany I don't waste much time online either. Thus, I have "plenty of time" (or do I?) for all of this other stuff.

Isn't it interesting that Luke notes that Martha was distracted BY her ministry and not FROM it?

My goal was to be finished with the lists after this weekend (which for us meant when I went to bed on Saturday). It didn't happen. Instead I turned into Martha, burned my arm, and stood crying over a pot of hot caramel. Had Jesus been sitting in the living room I would have stormed in and demanded that he send someone into the kitchen to help me. Man, I hope that batch of caramel corn doesn't turn out Like Water for Chocolate!

The funny (sad?) thing is that if I were caught up in the Christmas consumerism, that would be an easier habit to break. I think it's much harder to keep oneself from getting too distracted by ministry. Saying "I'm not going to spend $500 on electronics for our kids this year!" is much easier than saying, "We aren't going to give presents to our garbage truck drivers anymore" (because, duh, of course we are. They are the people we are more thankful for than almost anyone!).

So, what's the solution?

I don't know actually. Starting preparations earlier? Maybe. Typing up a list of things I do every single year so that I at least know what I'm in for next year? Maybe. Setting aside times for sitting like Mary? Yes. For sure. And, well, maybe giving up some of the ministry actually. Perhaps I don't have to do everything. Maybe the teachers don't care if we give homemade caramel corn or just pick up a bunch of Starbucks gift cards. Hell, maybe they'd prefer the gift cards.

But that's the problem. I don't want to give gift cards. I LIKE doing it all. I like handmade gifts. I like the thought and effort it takes. I like that my children see the work and love (and yes, sometimes tears) that goes into giving around here.

You know what would have lessened the stress this year? Had I not gotten rid of all my winter clothes last summer. I mean, in my defense, they were all way too big (woo!) but it is pretty damn anxiety-producing that we're leaving town for a wedding on Thursday morning and I LITERALLY don't have clothes to bring for all of the events.

WHY AM I BLOGGING WHEN I SHOULD BE BUYING SOME CLOTHES?

At least Advent is supposed a time of active expectation. Christmas is the time for joyful contemplation and celebration of incarnation. Maybe I'll just slow down for Christmas.

And maybe next year I'll do a better job at Advent.

O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree!

Oh Christmas Tree, Oh Christmas Tree, why must you provoke our poor Carolena so?

As it turns out, after several years now, I think we should go ahead and say with certainty that C is allergic to Christmas trees. Not allergic like sneezing and sniffling. Not allergic like a huge rash all over her body. Allergic like she is a little kid who can't keep herself from touching the tree (allll of the freaking time - like every time she walks by) and then breaks out in welps. Hives. Red splotchy itchy-looking allergies of swollen spots that she scratches at but refuses to admit hurt.

*sigh*

Poor Carolena. If only we could keep her out of the dang tree! It is very telling that she is my child that every year she breaks out primarily on her face and arms as though she has literally been snuggling in and hugging our tree.

She refuses to let me put Benedryl cream on her and instead sticks her nose in the air and says calmly in a snooty and dignified voice, "my body will take care of my body."

So I sneak it on her when she's sleeping.

This year we've finally realized "duh, this happens every year" and resolved ourselves to purchasing a fake tree.

And with that I announce the first resolution of 2016: No whining or ill-will toward or negativity about our fake tree! Not a word! Not a look! Nothing. Nadda. I will be fully excited and engaged. Because our poor sweet Carolena loooovvvvess Christmas trees. And, as it appears, cannot stay out of them. So we need to put a fake one out for her so that she can fully participate. Next year will be my first year of my entire life with a fake tree and I am determined to have a 100% good attitude about it. Because how could I do anything else for that awesome little spotty Carolena? And why did it take us this long to figure it out?

Oh Christmas Tree, Oh Christmas Tree, you are beautiful and you smell fabulous and we love you. Especially our cats who have consumed more water from your stand than you have. Thanks for a fabulous last year... at least until C is old enough to stop snuggling with the tree... which will be what like... 35? 37? 78 more years?