Monday, 17 September 2012

a case of the mondays...

Being a SAHM you'd think that every day would be the same.

But Mondays are usually where I put the highest expectations.
Get laundry started.
Sheets cleaned.
Floors swept.

You know...a fresh start to the week.

I woke up before both kids. Awesome.
Ate breakfast alone. Double Awesome.

Then I stared down the three ice cream pails full of fresh tomatoes and the large bag of onions sitting beside them.

"I should do something with those" I thought. "Before I add to the exponentially growing population of fruit flies already taking up residence in my kitchen.

After five minutes of hip-hop abs (hey, its something). I thought I would begin a batch of canned spaghetti sauce.

Ambitious? yes!

Reading the recipe I discovered I needed tomato paste. Garbage! I don't have any.

Enter five minutes of researching substitutes. Alas! I can boil down canned tomato sauce to make paste! Easy Peasy!

Darn you internet...making things seem so simple.

What was supposed to take 7 minutes of a gentle simmer...ended up taking at least 30 minutes at a rapid boil...and resulted in large amounts of red sauce splattering my kitchen like a crime scene.

Okay..paste done. Now to chop onions.

Onions make me grumpy. I usually end up with massive amounts of tears ruining my makeup.

ok forward to all the ingredients boiling in a pot. (I am skipping over when I had to break up a few dozen "big brother pushing little brother over" situations.)

Enter: niece and nephew are dropped off. Chaos ensues. I should really by at least four of all the toys I have. That would definitely reduce the number of arguments.

I just get the sauce canned, bathed and sealed, clean up the kitchen, and wipe down the puddles of tomato sauce that rained all over my kitchen floor. I light some candles to try to reduce the onion smell that has encompassed every corner of the house again. (I did salsa last week and my hands smelled for 8 days!)

I take a deep breath. One babe is napping, the three others are playing unusually quietly. Perfect chance to make a cup of coffee.

I don't know why I did it..but I did.

On my way to the coffee maker I steal a glance at the clock. 11:44. Shoot! There goes my coffee time. Its already lunch time.

I get through it. The hot dogs on the floor, stepping on some grapes, cake smeared on bare tummys. A painful hour of persuading them to clean up the toys with the promise of Backyardigans.

So as I sip my now slightly chilled coffee, catching up on emails, I take a deep breath reminding myself that I can get the rest done tomorrow.

Wednesday, 12 September 2012

I guess I'm a Runner Now

This past weekend I crossed one goal of my proverbial list: Completed a half marathon. For those of you who don't know a half marathon is 13 miles (21kms). 

I had two goals going into the race: I wanted to finish it and I didn't want to walk one step of it.
I did both!
I finished in two hours and two minutes. Fifth in my age category. 
Not too shabby, seeing as the longest I had ever run was 11 kms. 
I tend to get bored running, but here the adrenaline kept me going:)

 Jason and the boys came with me for support. Jason probably had it worse then me since we had to wake up the boys at 6am to get to the race in time.

 These boys are my life!

This is my approaching the finish line.

Aside from my ipod there were a few things that I told myself in order to keep going. Especially with those hills!
I didn't want to be the one fainting or vomiting or carried away on the stretcher.
I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it.
I repeated many times the following things:
If it doesn't challenge you, it doesn't change you.
My strength comes from the Lord.
Cohen will be waiting at the finish line for me. (He asked if I was racing like Lightning McQueen!)

Around mile 8 or so I took a moment to just take in how I was feeling. A beautiful morning, beautiful scenery and it was an adrenaline like no other. 

I felt at peace.
I felt amazing.
I felt strong.


I felt sore.
So sore.

From my hips down to my toes.

Three days later and its mostly my feet that hurt (Jason did tell my to get better shoes).
If I sit for two long then my hips hurt again.

I would am going to do a half again!

If I wasn't so sore I would do it right now.

I've always told people I wasn't a runner.

But now I guess I am.

Friday, 7 September 2012

post spontaneity

I blog irregularly.

If you are one of the three (I'm being generous here!) that follow my already know that.

For a week I'll post every day...and then nothing I vanish into the offline abyss.

Its not for not wanting to. Sometimes I lay awake at night. By brain hurts from all the words wanting to escape.

I don't really write for others. The words pour out from inside, not picky of their audience. There is something vulnerable about posting online.

I tried writing with paper and pen but for me online is better. There is something about hitting "publish" that is exhilirating and downright frightening. To keep a journal on your bedside table but airing your thoughts online where everyone...anyone can read...yikes! I try my best not to put myself in vulnerable spots but here my audience is mostly unknown (except for you, G-ma!).

If you know me you probably wouldn't describe me as a creative person. But let me tell you, behind the schedules and the narotic desire for wanting to know everything, there is a creative soul desperate to escape.

If only for more time. You might say..isn't there something I could sacrifice in order to have the time to nurture my creative side.

After housework, diapers, working part-time, working out, making time to at least acknowledge my husband exists, laundry (oh! the laundry) I barely have time to sleep.Seriously.

Thursday, 6 September 2012

First Day of Preschool

I didn't shed a tear. Not one.

I'm almost crying now over the fact that I didn't cry.

Maybe it was because I wasn't sure what I should do with how I feel. To be so sad and so proud at the same time.

Cohen started preschool today.

I registered him. It was my idea. But I didn't really want him to go. We are buddies.

Off he went in his little monogrammed cardigan (pics to follow). He wasn't even excited to see me. Just neutral.

Little does he know,  I left the house to pick him up an hour and a half before preschool was over. I needed to leave the house. It was too quiet without him. Even with Pax and my nephew here. It felt empty.

He's my sunshine; my world felt like a cloudy day without him.

We walked the half hour home...I patiently waited for him to start gabbing about all that he did and who he talked to, you know, tell him all the details over and over toddlers do. I had to almost force the words out of his mouth. Like preschool was just his secret and I wasn't privileged to know what went on.

All he told me is that he wants to go back.

I was so proud..and still am. So proud of my baby boy who is growing up and in preschool! He didn't act shy with his school pals or his teachers. That's what I wanted when I signed him up.

Speaking of baby boy. I knelt down in front of my three year old and told him "I'm so proud of you, my baby boy." He has never once rejected a statement like that..I don't know why he chose today to start. Perhaps to watch my heart shatter...He responded "mom..I'm not a baby...I'm a big boy...I go to preschool."

Ok I get it. He liked it. He wants to go back. This is the start of him becoming his own person.

I'm sad..and so extremely proud.

Words can't describe.