Call off the jam!

These days I seem to be so busy living my life that I don't have time to write about it! Okay, okay, I don't take the time to write about it. One of my dad's favorite things to tell me as a kid was that I had "all the time that there is. It's how you choose to spend it." So lately I've chosen to spend my "free" time doing things like eating and sleeping rather than blogging. So shoot me.
My kids are hurtling toward the end of first grade at the speed of light. It seems like just yesterday I was dropping them off for kindergarten with a giant lump in my throat. Now they are two years into their school experience, reading up a storm and doing well in math. I really wrestled with the decision to enroll them in public school instead of home schooling, but I think that right now, for our family, the decision we made was the right one. My girls have been blessed with two young, energetic teachers who have truly gone above and beyond to make sure their educational experience was a positive one this year. I was very blessed throughout my education with wonderful teachers, and it made all the difference in how I felt about school and about myself.
I am proud to say that I'm still running, both on my treadmill and occasionally outside. I am dealing with the difficulties that result from so much activity as they arise, fun things like tight hamstrings and shin splints. I bought some calf compression sleeves to run in, which look a lot like knee socks from a distance. After adding my "Will Run for Ice Cream" headband to my ensemble yesterday, I looked and felt like I was going to play roller derby. Just for confirmation of this fact, as I was walking out the door my husband was yelling, "Call off the jam! Call off the jam!"
As if looking silly wasn't enough, when I got to the neighborhood that everyone in our area goes running in, I was forced to huff and puff my way along behind Mr. Shirtless Wonder and his wife, Mrs. Stick Figure. Pay no attention to the fat girl "wogging" behind you, people.
Even worse than being forced to look at skinny people during my workout, I was almost dog bitten twice and run over once. One dog was a large mutt, and the other was a Jack Russell "Terrorist." Fortunately, both critters backed off when I yelled at them. Legally, if one of them had bitten me, I could have demanded that it be put down and its head submitted to the State Lab for rabies screening. I'm just throwing that out there, dog population! You do NOT want to bite the vet jogging in front of your house!
I am making a sincere effort to keep a cleaner house, and my young barrel horse has been on a roll, even winning me a saddle last weekend! So between being a mom, housekeeper, barrel racer, cook, runner, and writer, my time is pretty much spoken for all day, every day. But at least I'm really living my life instead of just writing about it. That's got to be worth something, right?

Extra Magic Hours

And just when I thought my life couldn't get any busier...it did! Between my three girls, barrel racing, and working with the spa, I swear I have met myself in the highway more than once in the last week. After much thought I have decided that I simply need more hours in the day. Well, either that or I need to learn to function on less sleep. Last night I sat down to write this post at around 10:00 PM, which was the first opportunity I had to do so. Unfortunately exhaustion and migraine medicine won out, and I fell asleep.
I could write in the mornings, but those are reserved for exercise, again because it's the only chance I have to get a workout in. I am still working my way through the Couch to 5K app on my phone, and I never thought I'd say this, but I'm about ready to enter another 5K race. Just what I need - another hobby! Oh, well, at least it's good for me.
I can't seem to get out of Disney mode. Every chance I get, I throw on a sundress and flip flops just because it makes me feel like I am there again. We had the most wonderful trip and spent time with "new" old friends. I sure wish we were still in the Magic Kingdom. The parks at Disney have what are called Extra Magic Hours. These are times that the park is not open to the general public, but you can come in with your Disney resort room key. I'm thinking that's just what I need, Extra Magic Hours added to my day. I could definitely use a little magic!
The girls are busy as ever, keeping us laughing and on our toes. Sheridan is in a princess phase, which means that pretty much anywhere we go she is subject to show up in a Disney costume. It's worth pointing out that I never would have allowed her sisters to do such a thing, but hey, you live and learn. Hopefully I am a better parent now than I was when the twins were little. Or maybe I've just learned to pick my battles. Either way, some things just aren't worth the fight.
Sometimes I think my children are the most difficult to please people ever created. And then something happens to make me think completely differently. One morning my child asked me what the weather was going to be like that day. "Cool, I think. Why?" She practically squealed, "Really? Yesss! I get to wear long sleeve pants!" Yep.  

The Happiest Place on Earth

We counted the weeks, days, hours, and minutes and it finally got here. This week our family traveled to film the Season Finale of America's Funniest Home Videos - in Disney World! Flying with three small kids is always a scary proposition, and this time was no different. I was extremely relieved to learn that our flight to Orlando would take approximately half as long as the previous ones to Los Angeles. After waking the kids up at 4:30 AM so we could leave home by 5:00, we drove the two hours to the Memphis airport and arrived yawning and bleary eyed just in time to board our flight.

The people on our flight and I are happy to report that the trip to Florida was pretty uneventful. The big girls didn't make a sound, which prompted me to check on them several times, and Sheridan slept most of the way.

Once we arrived at our fabulous hotel, the Animal Kingdom Lodge, our children suddenly lost the ability to walk. I don't mean that they couldn't transport themselves from place to place, I mean that they could no longer do so at a walk. Moving from one place to another began to require running, skipping, twirling, or some other visual manifestation of pure joy. At first, we assumed that our kids were weird. (Don't we always?) However, as we began to watch other people and their kids, we began to understand that it was a population wide condition. Simply being on a Disney property causes kids to lose the ability to hide their joy. And you want to know something else? It pretty much has that effect on their parents, too.

Our vacation was absolutely one of the most wonderful weeks of my life. Was it hot and humid? Yes. Give me a break. It's in central Florida, people. Was it crowded? Sure. It's a huge park in the number one vacation destination in the world. But we went there fully intending to have a wonderful time with our kids watching them experience the magic of childhood, and that's exactly what happened.

Walt Disney called his parks the "Happiest Place on Earth." I tend to agree with him, but I know there are people out there who may not. My husband and I had a ball watching some woman waiting on a bus from the hotel to the park. We had been sitting there about half an hour, just enjoying the breeze, mild weather, and soft music. She on the other hand, was getting angrier with each passing minute. You could almost feel her blood pressure going up. She huffed, she sighed, she crossed her arms, she strained her neck trying to look up the road.

I admit, we had been waiting for the bus for nearly half an hour, but we were rather enjoying being able to have a conversation without being interrupted every 30 seconds. (Our kids were on an adventure with our friend and their fairy godmother.) I thought perhaps we weren't as annoyed because we were child free, but rather than getting upset, we finally just agreed to get on the next bus that showed up, whether it was headed to Magic Kingdom or not. As if by magic, the next bus appeared and was going where we wanted to go.

Sitting there on the bench, it occurred to me that in Disney World, as in life, whether you enjoy it or not is completely dependent on your attitude. You can let every little thing upset and annoy you and have a perfectly miserable time in the Happiest Place on Earth. You can also make up your mind that you are going to have a blast and ignore the minor annoyances and inconveniences that come with being in a crowded amusement park. For the record, we decided to enjoy ourselves!

This trip was full of many, many "teachable moments." We had everything from sunburned skin to lost luggage, and it's going to take way more than one post to fill you in on our adventure. The past few days have been frantic, and we came home from Disney World with supernatural levels of exhaustion. I still haven't completely recovered from my trip, which is why I haven't updated my blog lately. I am catching up, slowly but surely. I can sleep when I'm dead, right?  

The Crappy Day

Is it possible to have a good day that's also a crappy day? The answer is "yes!" As a mom, I deal with poop on a daily basis, but yesterday was just beyond belief! Sheridan has lots of wet diapers and very few dirty ones, which is apparently quite normal for a breastfed baby, but when she does have a dirty one it's a doozy!
After skipping a day or two (again, normal for her) she finally decided to go while sitting in her bouncy seat. No big deal - picked her up and headed to change her. I was giving the task at hand approximately half of my attention, which is about the most anyone gets these days. Pretty much on autopilot, I unzipped her pajamas reached in and... got a whole handful of warm, yellow, liquid poop. Can you say UUUGGGHHHH? (I did refrain from using profanity, which I considered to be a major victory.)
Having diapered and potty trained twins, I have changed a LOT of diapers in my life. I had never seen one leak in both the front AND the back until yesterday. It's quite hard to believe that volume of something came out of a kid that small. I really think I used the better part of an entire box of wipes cleaning her up.
Moderately grossed out, I headed to the kitchen with the defiled clothes. As I was walking through the house, I absentmindedly looked down at the front of my nightgown and saw - what else? POOP! Fantastic. So I put my clothes and her pajamas in the washer to soak, then proceeded with the rest of my day, which went something along the lines of : bathe the baby, fix breakfast, wash clothes, feed the baby, change a diaper (repeated several times) dress the big kids, call the doctor's office, clean the bathroom, cook lunch, load the dishwasher, start supper, break up a fight or two, read to my kids, feed the baby again, assist big kids in multiple trips to the bathroom, etc. (You will notice that there was no shower for myself listed there - that's because it didn't happen.)
In the midst of all this fun, Sheridan was kind enough to poop again, and her diaper leaked AGAIN, but at least I didn't get any on me. As I changed her clothes yet again, it occurred to me - this has really been a crappy day! Not so much a bad one, but definitely a crappy one...

It's In There!

Every parent wants their children to be smart, and we are no different. Some days are great. We think to ourselves that we must be doing something right when they bring home that report card with all A's on it. Then there are days that we as parents would rather forget. Those are the days when our children do or say things that are just well, dare I say it? Stupid. Yep, I went and said it. The big fat no-no word that I tell my kids not to say. I'm sorry, there's just no other way to describe some of the things these kids come up with. Whether we would like to admit it or not, all of us at some time or another have watched our kids do something and thought to ourselves, "This cannot possibly be my child."
My children are no exception, they have done and said things that pegged the stupid meter completely out. But the other night, my baby girl did something so brilliant, so completely cunning, that I couldn't help but be impressed by my offspring. My kids were watching a show together when nature called. My mini me, not wanting to miss a moment of the action, paused the TV and proceeded into the bathroom. In mere seconds I heard the other two screaming, followed shortly by the sound of someone trying the handle and banging on a locked door.
"Mama! Mama! She paused the TV!"
"Well, unpause it then! Just hit the button! Where is the remote? "
"It's IN THERE!"
"What? Where?"
"Mama! She took it in the bathroom and locked the door! And now I can't get it!"
I have to admit that I giggled at the sheer genius of my "middle child." I call her that not really because she is younger than her twin by 13 minutes, but because she has the worst case of "middle child syndrome" known to man. But after such a stunning feat of pure brilliance, I think I'll start calling her Wiley Coyote. Well played, Sharlee girl. Well played.

Happy Easter!

I once again feel the need to say that I'm not dead, just busy! I have added a new hobby to my already hectic life, which I'm sure you will agree is exactly what I needed, because I certainly don't have enough to do. I really enjoyed the 5k that I went to last weekend, and I'm totally doing another one. I've even inspired my sweet husband to start back running. The only way I can defend my choice to participate in something else that requires another large chunk of my time and money is to say this: at least it's good for me! I'm bound to get in shape sooner or later if I keep going. Someone posted an e-card on Facebook that made me laugh until I cried yesterday. It said something like: Today while I was running I heard someone clapping. It was just my thighs cheering me on.
The bucket of bolts that is my bathroom scale has been forced against its will to admit that I've lost a little weight. I can tell much more about how I'm doing by the way my clothes fit now, but it's nice to see a smaller number anyway. This morning I climbed the stairs to my baby's bedroom and realized that I wasn't out of breath when I got to the top. That made me a lot happier than it probably should have, but hey - little victories add up to big ones.
Today I went shopping and here is what I have decided: I just need to be a size 5. That's all there is to it. If I were a size 5, I could have had my pick of any pair of jeans in the store! Unfortunately, I am a long way from a size 5, so my choices were much more limited. Which leads me to ask the question, has anyone else ever noticed that practically everything on the clearance rack is a tiny size? Perhaps stores should order fewer stick figure sizes (so not me) and more Marilyn Monroe sizes (totally me with the assistance of a pair of Spanx.) Just a thought!
Speaking of Spanx, I'm pretty sure I gave the congregation at our church a thrill on Easter Sunday morning. I bought an adorable, stylish chevron print Easter dress that was completely the opposite of what I normally wear. I suppose I was feeling adventurous. Anyway, it had a very fitted waist and a full skirt which came to my knees. Thanks to some strategically placed Easter lily stands, I wasn't able to get to the seat I wanted from the back of the room. After walking to the front of the church, sidling down the wall, and arriving at the pew I stepped over an air vent - which proceeded to blow my skirt completely up over the top of my head! With the number of elderly people in our church, frankly I was surprised that no one had a heart attack. Okay, okay fine. It wasn't completely over my head, but anyone who happened to be looking in my direction got a free shot of some Spanx. Happy Easter, everyone!