Kickboxing

Yesterday I took out my frustrations and stress in an hour and forty five minutes of intense exercise. I started with cardio kickboxing.  I punched, jabbed, upper cut and hooked with all of the anger I could muster.  I imagined I was hitting a certain entity that is causing a bit of stress right now.  Half way through the class I realized that I was clenching my teeth and swinging with such force that my arm nearly popped out of socket.

It felt good.

I sweat out a lot of stress in that first hour.  I situated myself in the back corner of the room so I hope no one noticed the ferocity with which I worked out.  I may or may  not have looked like I was going to kill someone.

I followed the kickboxing class up with a forty five minute core strength class.  It was at that point that I myself nearly met my Maker.  I continued to sweat out frustrations and ended with fifteen minutes of stretching that allowed me to relax just a little bit.  I left invigorated, tired, sweaty and feeling much less angsty.

I can’t walk today. 

I’m sore from my eyeballs to my ankles.  Thankfully my forehead and toes were spared.  Coughing, sneezing and laughing are dangerous activities and sitting down is torture.  I kind of have to just fall back.  And reaching for something that’s up over my head?  Out of the question.

So for one hour and forty minutes yesterday I was in charge.  Today I realized that kickboxing got the best of me.  Add to that Landon being up between the hours of 2:30 and 5:00 and you’ve got a sleepy, sore monster of a mommy.  On the plus side, it’s a gorgeous day today, Tia has a play date scheduled which means the opportunity for me taking a nap is high and I’m hoping to sweet talk my husband into coming with us to the Zoo tonight to kick off this lovely, long weekend.

So now I just have to figure out how exactly I’m going to brush my teeth given the fact that I can’t move.  This could be interesting…

Does anybody have an exciting plans for the weekend?  Our exciting plans?  Nothing.  I can’t think of anything that sounds more fantastic.

My second Katrina post is up at 5 Minutes for Mom.  This is the one I was most excited to share so I hope you enjoy reading it!

Let’s have a chat

This post is going to be a random conglomerate.

Landon got his permanent cast on yesterday.  He picked a fiery red cast.  They decided to cast him all the way up above his elbow even though the fracture was in his wrist.  Otherwise he might be able to pull the cast off.  I saw the X-Rays.  He broke both the ulna and the radius just above the growth plate.  We’re thankful the growth plate wasn’t affected at all!

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 He’s proud of his cast.  And Steve the monkey got a cast too because his arm was hurt.  So everyone is healing.

 Tia seems to be a little jealous.  She told me she wished she had a ‘puwple tast’ for her arm.  Here she is pretending she has a cast like her brother.  Landon’s trying to figure out how to navigate the world left handed.  Watching him eat brings a smile to my face.  Half the time he misses his mouth, the other half the time he shoves the fork down his throat.

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Lee has found the silver lining in this whole broken wrist ordeal.  “He’ll get tons of practice dribbling the ball left handed,” Lee said, his eyes getting all glassy and dreamy.  So, you know, he’s got that going for him…

My kids, like all kids, wear me out daily with their constant fighting, whining, tattling and arguing.  But it’s moments like this one that we had last night…

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…that energize me and give me the strength to get through one more day.  I am writing this at 7:48 in the morning and the kids are screaming at each other behind me.  I keep looking at the picture to remind myself that there are sweet moments to look forward to.

Speaking of being energized, you can read my latest post over at 5 Minutes for Mom.  It’s all about how I’m actually NOT supermom.

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 Tia had her last day of perschool yesterday.  I’m so excited for summer break.  I have all sorts of lofty goals and plans for the kids.  We’ll see if I can stick with it or if I cave and let them watch TV all day long.  Just kidding, I would never do that…

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Lee and I started the P90X workout this week.  I can’t move anything from my neck to my ankles without gasping in pain and I’m walking like a ninety year old woman with a hunchback.  It’s intense but so far we’re enjoying it.  Except for the Abs workout, which I’m fairly certain was developed by Lucifer himself.  Seriously, if I cough or sneeze I have to hold onto something to offset the pain.  Fun

I had a whole paragraph (or two) written about the Arizona Immigration bill and my horror at the President’s audacity to stand up next to a foreign President and publicly call out another State.  I’ll save you my rant, but will say that we are the United States of America.  We don’t need a President who’s a man of all Countries.  We need him to be the man of the People, which is what we elected him for.

And that’s all I have to say about that.

Now I’m going to hobble my way to the bathroom to start getting ready for the day.  I will attempt to brush my hair, but given that it hurts to raise my hands above my shoulders I may have to lay a hat down on the bed and shove my head into it…

Random bits of information and a question

* Today is the day.  We’ve waited four months for this.  We’ve cried and labored.  We’ve thrown our hands up in frustration and cheered at small victories.  We’ve begged and pleaded and felt utterly desperate.  And today we will see if our hard work and efforts paid off. 

What, pray tell am I talking about?  Why – I am talking about Landon’s weigh-in!  Yes, we are going to see if he’s gained the 3/4 of a pound that the doctor wanted him to gain.  Given that he still eats only a few bites of food per day, I’m a little nervous.  But I think he’s gotten taller so I’m hoping that compensates for everything.

* Speaking of Landon, I love his hair long.  It’s so very cute the way it hangs in his eyes and bounces when he runs.  But the other day, I must admit I started to feel sorry for the him as he had to tip his head back to an uncomfortable angle just to see anything.  So I trimmed the front of his hair just slightly…

Slightly too much.  I’m going to need to take him in because now he looks like he has a mullet.  Remind me to never, ever, ever try and trim my children’s hair.    I really should know better…

* I’m sitting next to my daughter who is wearing the most adorable little bubble dress with her hair up in frilly bows.  I would take a pictures to show you, but I’m lazy and don’t feel like it – you’ll just have to trust me.  She is sugary sweet and looks like a little doll.  It never gets old dressing little girls.

* I’m still upset about the russian adoption situation and frustrated that no charges have been brought agains the woman who sent her adopted son back to Russian with a note pinned to his chest.  Why on Earth hasn’t she been charged?!  I don’t get it.  The child was legally hers, he was officially an American citizen and by the letter of the law, he was her son.  Does this mean when I’m having a particularly difficult day with my son, I can ship him to Russia without fear of repercussion?  Because, trust me, there are times when that sounds appealing…

The whole situation makes me angry.
* Lee and I took the kids to the local high school last night and ran the track with them.  It was really fun.  We sprinted, raced, jumped and laughed.  Lee strapped a parachute to his back for wind resistance.  He looks ridiculous while running with that thing, but it’s a great workout so he does it anyway. It was fun to watch to watch him use it until he ran past Sloan and the parachute caught the back of his head, yanking his feet out from under him and resulting in a fat lip.  Good times…

* We watched our two favorite shoes last night: Glee and LOST.  LOST did not disappoint.  Seriously, I think I’m going to go through withdrawls when that show ends this year.

Glee, however, was a little disappointing.  It was Madonna night so I expected big things.  It did make me laugh out loud several times (I love Sue Sylvester), but it also made me uncomfortable.  The whole high schooler’s dealing with sex thing makes me squirm.  Remember how I felt after seeing the movie Valentine’s Day? 

To Glee’s credit, they did handle it as well as I would expect a Hollywood produced show to handle it.  It was all about female empowerment and girls taking control of their bodies and not succombing to pressure.  So, you know, that’s good.

But as I watched all I could think was how in the world do parents with teenagers deal with shows like this?  Because I don’t know that I would want my kids watching that show if they were older.  And yet it’s such a piece of popular culture, I wouldn’t doubt that they would want to watch it.  So what would I do?  Would I let them watch it and then dialogue with them afterwards about what a healthy, godly view of sex is?  Or would I simply not let them watch it?  Parents with older children, give me your thoughts.  I really want to know.

Do shows like Glee that are light hearted and fun and uber-popular make parenting a headache?  Do you let your children watch them?  How do you handle these pieces of culture that bombard our kids with messages that aren’t enitrely healthy?

Do share!

The Minivan Mom Runs – Part 2

It was 1994 and we were in Spanish Wells, Bahamas for a family reunion.  I know, awesome place for a reunion right?  There are some definate perks to having missionary grandparents.

This was the summer that it became apparent I would no longer be able to compete in the high jump at school because of back issues so I was trying my hand at running.  Spanish Wells is 2.5 miles long and a half mile wide so I mentioned that it would be fun to run around the whole island.

“I’ll go with you,” my cousin Sean piped up. 

“Great!” I said, glad for the company.  And especially glad that it was Sean as in my eyes he was the bees knees – he still is. I have a lot of admiration for him.

“I’d like to come too, if that’s alright,” my Uncle Cletis said from across the room.  He’d recently begun running himself (or maybe he’d been running for awhile, I forget).

“Fun!” I exclaimed.  “We’ll go early in the morning before it gets too hot.”

Except, there was just one thing.  It was the hottest summer EVAH down there.  Which meant that by 7:30 am, which is when we rolled out of the house, it was already in the ’90’s.

About a half mile into the run, I realized I’d made a grave, grave error.  Graaaaave error.  My first clue came when I looked down at Sean’s calves as he kept pace in front of me.  They were thin and muscle-ly.

“Do you run a lot?” I heaved, sweat dripping into my mouth.

“I have been,” Sean replied.  “Actually, I’ve been biking a lot.   I’ve been doing 70-80 mile bike rides along with my runs.”

“Oh,” I said, swallowing hard.  I think Uncle Cletis chuckled.

A mile into our trip, I thought I was going to die.  The only saving grace was the fact that the scenery was spectacular.  Then we came to a place in the road that was blocked.

“Let’s just run this stretch on the beach,” Sean said all perky like.  Honest to God, I don’t even think he was breathing hard.  Not one to give up and be left behind I agreed with as much enthusiasm as I could muster and we headed onto the white sandy shore. 

Running in and of itself is hard.  Running when it’s 10,000 degrees out is harder.  Running in 10,000 degrees on sand is torture.  As we jogged next to the crystal blue waters and I stared at Sean’s legs, I realized that I’d bitten off way more than I could chew.  But I would not give up.  I told you – competition killed the cat.

The last half mile did not find me hitting any kind of stride.  While the guys picked up the pace (just slightly…they were being nice to me), I huffed and puffed and no longer tried to pretend I was having fun.  I’ll never forget the sight of that house as it came into view.  I won’t foget it because there were angels flying above singing “Hallelujah” as white doves flitted in and out of the windows.

It was glorious.

And I didn’t run with the guys again that week.

I am two weeks into my new committment of running.  I’m doing ten minutes miles now.  I’m waiting for it to get easier so I can up my time a little.  I didn’t have a lot of time to run last week due to kiddos having colds and being unable to go to the gym, but I’m back in it this week.  I will up my distance to a mile and a half next week. 

I still don’t like running.  But, I have to say, I’d much rather be doing it on a Carribbean island, staring at my cousin’s legs than at the gym staring at the backside of the guy in front of me.

Just sayin’…

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FYI – I wanted to make you all aware of a couple of things coming up.  This Saturday I will be leading a Lunch and Learn session for the St. Louis Bloggers Guild on publishing for the Popular Market.  The official title of the seminar is “So You Wrote a Novel – Now What?”  It will be from 11:00-12:00 at the Stone Spiral Cafe in Mapelwood, Missouri.

Also, on Friday, Feburary 26, our church is hosting a Ladies Night Out from 6:30-10:00.  There are 13 different breakout sessions to choose from, one of them being blogging, which I am leading.  I will be discussing the ins and outs of blogging, some do’s and don’ts and how to monetize your blog.  Beginners and advanced bloggers are all welcome.  You can find out more information on how to register here.

Happy snow day to you all!

The Minivan Mom Runs

I ran track in high school.  I don’t really know why.  I wasn’t that good at it and running has never been my favorite thing.  I enjoyed the comraderie and I was a sprinter so the running I had to do was in short bursts – much better for a girl who’s brain starts cussing her out once she hits the half mile mark.

I also enjoyed the boys. Mmmm…the boys.   Come to think of it, it may have been the boys that kept me coming back each year for another season.  I enjoyed running as long as I could exercise my flirting skills.

Ahem.

Actually, I started my track career as a high jumper, something that I had at least a little natural talent in, but had to quit when I developed a stress fracture in my back.  But rather than quit altogether, I decided I would just become a runner.  Only I quickly discovered I wasn’t exactly a runner.

I’ve always longed to be able to say I’m a runner, though.  When Lee and I were first married, we met a crazy older couple who told us that running was a great way to strengthen a young marriage.  They were training for their second marathon together and convinced us to train for a half marathon.

So, in our love struck foolishness, we agreed and began running.  And we quickly learned that trying to train for a race together would likely be the demise of our marriage.  We’re both highly competitive, but one of us is naturally a better athlete than the other.

I’ll give you one guess as to which one it is.

My husband is a super freak when it comes to athletics.  He’s all, “I hate to run.  It’s so hard and boring.”  Then he pops out and run 5 miles in 40 minutes while barely breaking a sweat.  And quite frankly, it infuriates me.  The only plus was that since I was stuck running behind him most of the time, I got to stare at his backside while he ran.  Bonus for me…but still annoying.

So Lee dropped out of the training after a couple of weeks and decided he didn’t need or want to run a half marathon.  I, however, stuck with and got up to 8 miles when I hurt my foot, had to take a break and never started up again. 

Fast forward seven years.  I was once again duped by a friend into running a marathon relay.  My friend convinced me that it would be easy.  Four of us would divide a marathon and would accomplish the race that way.  “You can have the last leg,” she said.  “It’s the easiest.”

L to the I to the A to the R!  The final 6.3 miles was all up hill.  I nearly died, folks.  Did you hear me?  I NEARLY DIED!

One week later I found out I was pregnant (surprise!) with Landon.  And when complications with the pregnancy arose, I stopped running…and never started up again.

Fast forward to today.  I have lost all the baby weight from three children.  Go me!  But there’s one problem.  Areas of my body are soft and squishy where once they were much firmer.  Not cool

Combine the squishiness with the fact that my husband has decided he is going to run a half marathon in April and is already up to running 3.5 miles after only a couple weeks of training and I’m chomping at the bit to dive back in.

I may hate running, but I’m not one to sit around and let my husband show me up.  Competition – it’s what killed the cat.  You thought it was curiosity, didn’t you? 

So, I started running again this week.  I did a mile on Monday (I was heaving with embarrassing aplomb) and today the goal is to do a mile again – just a little faster.

And so, here I go.  I will be chronicling my adventures in running here in an attempt to spur myself on and to find comic relief in what I believe to be the very un-funny process of running.  This has the potential to go one of two ways – I fall madly in love with running and experience the “runner’s high,” (not likely) or I fall flat on my face (figuratively…and maybe liturally) and learn once and for all that running is not for me.

Because the temps are significantly below freezing right now and the only thing that sounds worse to me than running is frostbite, I will have to do the dreaded exercise on a treadmill for awhile.  Awesome.  Now I get to have an audience as I galump along. 

When it warms up, I will hit the road.  Now if I could just find some cute boys to surround me while I run, that would help…