Thursday, February 28, 2008

My First Mile

This may not seem like much to some, but last night, I ran my first mile without stopping!!! I have never run a full mile. Not even in high school when we used to have to take that trek through the Faulkner campus. I would always stop and walk the majority of the way. So now, I only have twelve more miles to go. What am I thinking?!?

In other news, I know that I have been quiet on this end for a while. I think the only person that notices is my dear friend Erika, though I am sure I have millions of silent readers that are just too timid to leave comments. We have been in the midst of a minor crisis in our household. As I had mentioned before, we have been in the process of refinancing our house to try to pay down some of the debt incurred when building our pool. This has been the most insulting and disturbing experience of my life. We have had facts misrepresented to us, mistakes were made on the lender's side, and then lies were told in attempt to cover their rear ends. And I just don't know what to do about it. I told my mom yesterday that I now understand why people sue. I have never really understood it until this experience. So at a later date, I will get into specifics. But for now, I have to figure out where to go from here.

Thursday, February 21, 2008

Learning to Run

Well, I think we are all well now. Somehow Scott and Madalyn managed to make it through the past week and a half without getting sick. I don't know how that happens with me hacking my lungs out for the past week, but I am so grateful that we didn't all get stricken. And now that I am 100%, I am learning to run.

A couple of weeks ago, our family went to cheer on a good friend at the Mercedes Marathon in Brirmingham. This was her seventh marathon, and at 26.2 miles each, I wanted to see what all the fuss was about. It was a truly inspirational experience, and I saw so many different types of people during the run. I was literally moved to tears. And the whole time, I stood there thinking, "If they can do this, so can I." Some people were true athletes, but most just looked like ordinary folks. Some even looked downright unfit. So it sparked a new fire within, and I have set a goal to run the half marathon next February. So I am officially learning how to run, which might not sound that difficult to some, but for me, it is a challenge. I have never been an athlete. Never really played a sport. I played softball when I was five and six, but my most vivid memories of it are how badly I played. And my father has made fun of me for the way I run my whole life. My parents just never really cultivated an athletic side for me. I mean, they already had two boys, so why would they encourage me to play sports?

So, this goal is highly personal. It is really just as much an inner battle and psychological training as it is physical. And I am excited about it. For the first time in a very long time, I am excited about something. And I actually look forward to pushing myself to the limit.

Saturday, February 16, 2008

Coming Up for Fresh Air

Wow!!! We have been in the thick of illness around here all week. Mine began Tuesday with some cold symptoms and body aches. David's began in the wee hours (why does fever always strike in the wee hours?) Wednesday morning. I knew his was strep from the beginning. This is our third bout with strep, so this time I knew his symptoms all too well. But when I called to get him into the pediatrician, they could not see him that day. They were booked solid, and that was at 8:15 that morning. We had to wait until Thursday morning, but the nurse said if he took a turn for the worse, they could squeeze him in. In the meantime, I ran fever of 102 degrees and had both the sick one and the well one to take care of. No fun, as you might could imagine. Scott's hands were tied, and he could not come home to help as he was the only manager at work. Thank God for my dear, sweet mother who took off work on Thursday and came to help out. I am completely incapacitated by fever as high as 102. I couldn't even move.

So, as of today, David and I are both fever free. I am better, just not quite up to par. And I feel like I need to spray every surface of my home with Lysol. I just want to wash every blanket and pillow and towel in the house. Any surface that could possibly have one little minute germ. Because, somehow, my little drama queen has managed to stay healthy through all of this. And I would like to keep it that way.

Anyway - it just feel good to feel somewhat good again.

Friday, February 8, 2008

My Little Hoarder

I just spent the last hour and a half cleaning out my son's room. I think I need to shoot an email over to the Oprah Show or Dr. Phil and schedule an intervention. David has a bit of a hoarding issue, and it is greatly effecting the mood of this household. Or, my mood mainly. He cannot let go of anything. Not a piece of notebook paper. Not a single hot wheel, though he owns 256, my approximate guess. Last week, he wanted to save a Go Gurt wrapper because it had a secret code on it. I had to put my foot down at that.

Sad thing is, as beautiful as the room looks now, he will be home from school shortly, and Hurricane David will be back in full force leaving destruction and a trail of food wrappers behind. Why I even bother, I will never know.

Thursday, February 7, 2008

Just a Few Random Ramblings

One would think, by nature, little girls would be neater in the bathroom than little boys. Not so much. I find my self cleaning the potty three times as much as I normally should. I just don't understand, logistically speaking, how a little girl can make this much of a mess when using the potty. But my high maintenence daughter has mastered it. And it really doesn't help that the toilet is one of the things I get a little OCD about. I just feel that any spot of urine must be cleaned and all the dust that accumulates behind it and around the bottom are from Satan himself. Honestly, the toilets are usually the cleanest single part of my home. So, if ever at mi casa and a terrible case of the stomach flu hits or you have indulged in one too many margaritas, you can feel safe to hug the porcelain god. Unless Madalyn went directly before you did.

Another thing here lately that disturbs me is my seemingly aging shell. I know I am not old, but the hormones seems to be already cycling downward. My husband thinks I am crazy for thinking this, but there are just changes I have noticed over the past couple of years. Night sweats, for one. And I am not talking about perspiration. Sweat. Pfrofuse sweating. Waking up several times during the night drenched in sweat, sometimes so bad that I must get up and change clothes. What the heck is that about? And the dry and sensitive skin. In the past two years I have had to switch to unscented nearly everything. No more froofy smelling bath gels or lotion. Unscented Aveeno and sensitive skin deoderant. It is just weird. I used to have to check my face for oil every hour on the hour. I can remember in high school pulling out my little compact at the end of first period and being mortified at the oil that stood on my face. Now my skin is so dry and tired looking that I long for the oily days of yore. I mean I still have the zits, so why not the benefits of natural moisture as well. I really need to go to the gyno and have my annual which is a little over due. Just a little, not much. But I am wanting to find a new one and there is something so humiliating about having to meet yet another man who will be looking where human eyes should never have to go. Oh, the thought.

Anyway. I am just rambling today. There's not much going on in my life at present, which is just fine with me. We will be starting up with baseball practice very soon, and then my life will be consumed with, "Mama, did you see me hit that ball? Did I hit it good? Did you see me get that boy out? Did you see me catch that pop fly? Do you want to throw baseball with me when we get home? Can I practice hitting balls, too? Did I do good today, Mama?" And it will be in a series like that, and when he pauses for air between questions, I will alternate between responses, "Yes, real good," and "Uh huh." And this year I need to purchase a glove, which I never dreamed in a million years I would need, but when you are throwing baseballs in the yard everyday after school, a glove is beneficial. Since Scott is a lefty, I can't use his. Oh dear. It is fun, but when David gets into something, he is all in. We still don't know what team we will be on, and that is a bit of anxiety. This is serious business here - little league baseball - and I don't trust my child to just anyone. There is only one coach that I absolutely do not want, so that's all I am really praying for. So, we'll see. Oh the dramas of city league babseball. They meet for the draft this Saturday to pick teams. Yes, you heard me right. The draft.

Tuesday, February 5, 2008

So Blessed

I am so fortunate to have both my grandmothers still living. Of course, they are both in their eighties and hard of hearing and ailing to some degree, but they are still with us and able to pass along their wisdom. Which is priceless.

I am sure it angers my mother a little that I call my dad's mom more than my mom's. My maternal grandmother is very hard of hearing and has not really enjoyed talking on the phone as long as I can remember. It is just a difficult process and she often ends up terminating the call abruptly, and you just leave the conversation more confused than when you started. And my dad's mom is (do not laugh Erika, because you would be the only one who would laugh at this) sort of a kindred soul. She is fiesty and outspoken, way more so than I, and has an imagination and creativity that is unbelievable. She has told me my whole life that there is a writer inside of me somewhere, and perhaps she is right. But she has always been someone whom I could talk with about my spiritual journey and marriage and mothering. And she knows what I am going through, because she raised three children and stayed married to the same man despite the difficulties. And she also had a spiritual journey somwhat like mine. She started to truly develop into a Christian in her thirties, telling me she remembers a yearning in her heart that she just could not understand. Every time I talk to her, I hang up feeling better. She has mellowed out so much in the past few years and has become such a comforting spirit and encourager to me. And she is just such a blessing.

I plan to make a phone call to my other grandmother today as well. A dear old friend of hers passed away this morning, and I just want to tell her how sorry I am. Because my mom's mother is so sweet and tender hearted. I have never met a woman as gentle in spirit as she. And so talented with her hands. She made nearly every dress I wore growing up. What an amazing joy to call these two women my grandmother. I couldn't have any better of an example laid before me.

Now, if this darn spell check doesn't start working again real soon, I'll just have to stop blogging. The dictionary is helpful, but way too time consuming. I do have other things to do, you know.

Monday, February 4, 2008


Tonight, I will be glued to the television set. At 8:30, ABC will air a special about the secretly taped conversations of Joran Vandersloot (even spell check wouldn't help me with that one). I am very anxious to see what all the hype is about.

I was personally drawn to the case when first revealed in the media. A young, seemingly innocent, high school girl. Such a promising life ahead of her. Just a young girl on the trip of her life having a good time. But made one fatal decision that ended her life - getting into that car. I did it at the age of seventeen. It was my first summer working at the Gap. A group of boys came into the store, and I, of course, started flirting and somehow ended up with two of them in my car riding to pick up another friend to just go ride around. With two perfect strangers. My parents had no idea what I was up to, and had they have known, they would have hit the roof. If anything had happened to me, no one would have known who they were or where they were from. My only memory of them was that they were in town for an indoor soccer tournament. How stupid I was! And I was a good kid. I didn't drink. I didn't smoke. I was incredibly innocent. And incredibly stupid. I have since told the story to my parents and added that I must have had a protective bubble around me. Because there are more stupid stories to tell. Many more.

I remember looking at Natalie's picture and thinking that she just looked like every girl - any girl. Possibly even my daughter at some point down the road. That is why I am so drawn to the story. So hoping that they will finally be able to nail the bastard that took her from her mother.

Friday, February 1, 2008

Smarties Love Hearts

I just thought I would share some good news with all my fellow sugar addicted candy fools out there. My favorite childhood candy, Smarties, has broken the tradition of the tiny little circle and created the Love Heart, a much larger version of the Smartie, with little sayings on them for Valentine's Day. What's there not to love about them? They are the same tart and sweet little treat, just bigger. It is just a flavor that I still love. It reminds me of every holiday really, because you can find them in nearly every goody bag for any holiday party. I don't know a single person that does not like Smarties. Well, maybe one - my husband - but he is strange anyway, so he doesn't count.

I think my life has reached an all time low. This is what it has come to. Blogging about Smarties.

Perhaps I should send a bag to Britney Spears. I would assume that she could benefit from some good, old fashioned candy therapy right now. I have kept silent about the obvious state of her affairs until today because it seems like her story is every where. It is the top story of nearly every news channel, it's on both my homepages, and it seems every unrelated interview with anyone includes a question about her. How embarrassing, really, to have the entire world realize that you are in so desperate need of help but there doesn't really seem to be a good solution for you. Kind of ironic. I just think the whole deal is so sad, you know. She is obviously a woman disturbed and on the verge of a complete breakdown, if one hasn't already occured. And the two small kids missing out on what every child deserves - a stable, loving mother who is there to give hugs and kisses. What saddens me the most is that Brtiney Spears is one of thousands, perhaps hundreds of thousands, who are struggling with mental illness and not getting the help they need. And most people struggling do not have the resources nor the attention that a celebrity has at their disposal. I just hope they can get her back on track so that she can enjoy a life with her children and maintain some sense of normalcy. If that really exisits.

One more thing before I go. My spell check is not working and it is diving me crazy because I am horrible at spelling and make a ton of typos and need spell check to not look like an idiot. So, if you find any mispellings, please ignore them and know that I am smart. Well, I used to be.