A REAL look - The boys at it again

I have had a lot on my mind lately with losing a family friend who we dearly loved, having my parents be out of town, Dale's grandma's recent hospital stay, the boys being sick, and the anniversary of my Father-in-law's passing coming up this Saturday.  However, as a busy mom life doesn't stop when you feel like you need to be all wrapped up in your own emotions and throwing confetti at your own pity parties.  The boys are fully aware of this. 

The weather has been extremely nice once it stopped raining.  That allows for more time outside, thank the good lord above.  More time outside means the house stays a tad bit cleaner.  I said a tad bit.  The boys were still boys through this week.  Let me show you a few examples:

Wyatt tried out a new profession while I was in the shower Saturday morning and his dad was gone. 

Exhibit A:

Exhibit B:

Exhibit C:

 Exhibit D:

I think he better stick to school and find a profession that better suits him. 

In other news, Weston has been his usual destructive self. 

I'm sure this will be his motto as soon as he can say it.

He loves tea

and lets me know every.single.day.  I really wish I could lock that cabinet.

As I mentioned, we have been spending a lot of time outside in the beautiful weather.  That leads me to believe I can get great brotherly shots of them.

Like this one.

I gave up on trying to get a good loving brother shot and tried to enjoy more peaceful, calming scenery.

Awww!  So pretty.

I turned to my right to take this shot and quickly jetted my eyes back to the boys because three boys ranging in age 1 to 5, a big body of water, plenty of rocks, and just the right amount of being pissed off at each other could lead to disaster.  I'm fully aware of that.

What I didn't expect to find was that.  Full frontals of two little boys peeing in the city lake with two fishermen about 100 feet in front of them.  Thanks, boys.  Thanks for always finding a way to surprise me.

I apologize to the fishermen traumatized and pissed at the fact that the fish they caught were marinated in little boy urine.  Ok, so I'm sure there are much worse things in that city lake than little boy urine, but still.

Speaking of always surprising me....

Last night we had dinner at my mother-in-law's.  Quickly after they shoved the food down their throats they headed outside to play.  Harmless, right?!  Minutes later their older cousin came through the door announcing that Wyatt and Waylon had pooped outside. 

I didn't believe him, but went out to investigate anyway.  Sure enough, two steaming fresh piles of poop lie in the grass just at the base of a tree and spaced about three feet from each other.

They swore it was cat poop.  Believable.  Besides Waylon pooped just before we left the house.  I was about to buy their story when I decided to check their backside.  Poop, outside, no toilet paper.... you get the picture.  Well, not literally and you're welcome.

Much to my surprise the odd color of the poop in pile 2 matched the odd color of the remains on the backside of kid number 2. 

Disbelief, shock, horror, anger all of these things crossed my mind.  How many cars drove by as their white nekkid little asses were squatted obscenely unloading?

"Why did you do that?" 

"I don't like grandma's bathroom."

"Are you freakin kidding me?"

Speaking of poop....

This is not an explosive diaper.  But, we are taking an increasing number of baths these days due to all the outside grossness.

Until next week....

Worldly Goodbyes

In times of loss you do a lot of thinking. 

A lot of what does this mean for me questions. 

A lot of reevaluating where you are and where you want to be inquisitions.

A lot about the ones you lose and the time you have left with the ones you still have.

There's one for sure thing about it, we I am not in control of it. 

******
We got news.  Some of the hardest to hear.  It's been over a year.  The rain came down, heavy, flooding, blinding rain.  The kind of rain that washes the familiar away and makes room for new ways to become familiar.

There was a checklist of things to accomplish before strapping our seat belts. 

• Take the dogs to Jay
• Get the boys to my brother
• Lock the house
• Call Dale.

Call Dale.

Is he ok?  Where are we going?  Where will we sleep?  Questions that in the bigger picture didn't matter.  We'd figure it out when we got there. 

As the windshield wipers gave the calming affect of something constant, predictable we navigated our way with dim, rain filtered light.  It should have been three hours there.  What we had to face, unknown. The months ahead of us some of the hardest we would face.

******

Here we are today coming up on the anniversary of my father-in-law's passing.  We have come back to that new familiar place of grief, sadness, loss, questions, unknowns, remorse once again. 

A message, a phone call.  Hearing words of another one close to us passing just yesterday.  Finding myself at one moment in peace and at another the burn of emotion traveling along the front of my forehead and down into my tear ducts, even putting pressure in my ears and a lump in my throat.  Sometimes my head spinning with where I think my mind should be instead of the calm I find myself in.  death again in such a brittle time. I should be a mess.

******

"Take the dogs to Jay"  My mind goes there at that time in the pouring rain where I hiked my pant legs up and maneuvered my expecting body through the drops that pounded atop my head.  There he stood, all six plus some feet of him, never minding the cold wet rain as much as I did. 

"Hey hon!  Give me that stuff, I'll take care of it." 

His strong, massive hand relieving the dog food, leash, and bowls from mine. 

"You want some pizza?"

My mind too distracted to eat and my body too anxious to get to where I needed to be. 

"Tell them all we're thinking about them.  Bill is a good man.  I'm so sorry this has happened"

His condolences passed through his lips as his arm embraced my shoulders. 

******

This is how I remember Jay.  Always being there for us.  His sweet card when we experienced our miscarriage.  His help and advice when building our house.  The countless hours he spent building two houses for our family.  Every birthday, every holiday, a familiar face at my parent's house.  A life long best friend, a brother, an uncle.  A gentle giant. 

As he sat there at the head of my parent's table that Christmas morning before the chaos of the day began I knew something was different.  His large frame not as full as it had been months before.  We made our usual jabs.  We awed over the book of his grandbabies.  I shared my excitement around the Chief's game we attended the day before.  Something he loved.  I wish I would have hugged him.  Told him goodbye in a much deeper way.  Told him just how much I appreciated all the times he had been there.  But that was Jay.  The Jay we knew didn't like attention on himself, he didn't even like birthday celebrations in his honor.  He would have been damned if I would have gushed over him in that moment. Joking away my questions about the weight he had lost. We spent it just as he would have liked, talking about the things he enjoyed, he loved with some of the people he loved.

See ya later, Jay...

How I get out of it

Lesson 101 on how to get out of trouble.

The first and MOST important thing is.... You have to be cute.

Here's how I did it.

1.  Push over the trash can making such a loud noise mom will just be glad you are ok and not bleeding out your nose and mouth when she comes to see how badly you are hurt this time.

2.  Once she knows you are ok continue with your plan stepping onto the trash can to reach all the important mail she has stacked up on the island.  Take a quick peek around and flash a killer smile to make her stay put.  Make sure it looks innocent.

3.  Do a couple of squatty dance moves to throw her off your trail.  You're just making your own dance stage.  There's no funny business going on here.

4.  Take a quick peek to survey her expression.  I totally have her fooled.  She can't get up quickly from that position and she has that little glimmer of love in her eye.  Oh, wait... she is getting up.  Oh, she's just moving the chair to get a better view.  BWAHAHAHA.  It's go time.

5.  Violently pull off all of the important mail that was neatly stacked onto the floor.  Wow, that pile made quite a thud.  Look how far some of those pieces went.  Whoa, I actually got some under the fridge.

BAM!  Not even a "No-No, Weston".  Mission accomplished.  Come back next time and I'll show you how I get into the tea bags every single day and all I get is an eye roll and a deep heavy sigh. 

Finding my happy

Whining

Endless frustration here and there

Pain

Jobs never done

The house a mess

Limited smiles crossing my face

Yelling

Constant rain, wetness, lack of sunshine

For the past three days I've been unable to find my happy. I have love, but the happiness and joy have escaped. My temper has been short. My usual amount of 'let them be kids' attitude vacant. Enjoying the small moments nonexistent.

This morning I woke up with a headache. I exercised anyway. I thought it would help. Get my blood pumping in the right direction again. I hated today. I hated this morning. I hated myself.

The middle one pushing every button and taking me deeper into the hell I've been feeling. Then it was clear.

The runny nose

The constant whining

The swollen, red eyes

The aching ear

He didn't feel good either.

While the sink was full and crumbs littered the floor we molded into the chair together. Just him and me. In the middle of a beautiful, full of sunshine day we napped together. It was as if I was plugged into the wall. My battery recharged. I awoke with that happiness again. The patience renewed. The pain finally gone. Thank goodness for forgiveness. For recharging. For sunshine. For the decision to sit back and take it slow no matter the state of the environment around me.

A REAL look into a life with 3 boys

This week in our lives with 3 boys....

If you missed the 1st edition it was pretty funny.  You can click here to read it. 

I attempted Shamrock Shakes.  Thanks to Nichole pimping hers.  Mine don't look near as pretty as hers did and probably didn't taste as good either. 

Waylon and the other boys squinted their nose and let me know that they were too "spicy". 

What other boys?  Oh, our house had 5 boys over the weekend instead of 3. 

Aren't they cute?!  It was fun and everyone, for the most part, got along swimmingly. 

Like this.

Guess who grew up?

Yeah, the baller there with his wrist band that he LOVED.  He wore it all day.

This is deceiving.  He actually wasn't the guilty one here.  He's just checking out to see how much more damage he could do.  When I came back in to pick it up there was significantly more bending. 

That one had Waylon's name all over it.

Speaking of...

I had to beg him to put his underwear back on. 

I finally kept up the laundry this week. That's a lie.

We are NEVER 'caught up' with laundry.  You probably already knew that.  This basket of clean, folded clothes is still sitting in the living room and a new layer becomes unfolded each day because they can't keep away from it.  Why don't I just put it all away?  Because, I DON'T WANT TO.

We got new furniture, which I would like to keep nice and constantly yell at them to, "Stay off of the top of the pillows, please." but they don't.  Then they do this...

So much for keeping this crap nice.  Yes, that's a empty bottle of grape juice laying on the floor.  Anyone want to take a guess as to who keeps getting it out of the trash?

What's that?

A "wepon" also known as a butter knife.  They steal these things from me all the time and I find them in various places.

And that?

Someone left the doors unlocked to the DVD's.  And that is the Wii remote thing that Weston can not stand to have on the shelf.  Any chance he gets to pull it off he takes it. 

Oh, yeah, that looks like a lot of freakin fun.

"YOU'RE GOING TO HIT YOUR HEAD ON THE TABLE.  KNOCK IT OFF!!!"  times 2,134,684,616,445

"I want to eat big boy food, by myself.  Don't try to feed me or I will knock the spoon from your hand."

"Not that big boy food"

I really need to take a picture when he is completely finished.  This doesn't do it justice.  What kid doesn't like Lasagna?

Don't we look happy?

 Dang it, they are still cute!

This week they took it easy on the home destruction and just worked on my nerves instead.  There was a lot of whining and crying and not listening.  I'm exhausted and frankly trying to check my mood before we head into this gorgeous weekend.

I'm ready for next week to be here because I'm really counting on it being better all around.  We did take time for a field trip though.  It was nice to get that time with them.

Thanks, mom for going and dad for meeting up with us for lunch.  That was a special treat.

Memories Captured - Waylon

I'm joining Galit and Alison again for one of my favorite link-ups.
By the way, loving PicMonkey!

Let's be honest... this kid?  He can drive me to insanity faster than anything.  He's stubborn.  He talks back.  Hits. Pushes. Bites. Kicks. Screams like a girl. And cries about everything.  He frustrates me.  He will argue until you threaten physical harm.  HE.DOES.NOT.LISTEN! 

But, I can't help but melt when I look at him.  Those huge eyes outlined with those beautifully long eyelashes.  Those toddler arms melting away too quickly into big boy muscles.  That tiny neck getting longer and longer as the days go by.  And that hair, oh his poor hair.  I love this little dude more than I even have the words to express. 

Even though it is cliche, he is too smart for his own good.  I was in awe last night over some logic he put together.  I can't even remember what it was, but he blew me away.  He is sneaky and always watching, carefully planning out his next move.  His poor brothers.  I love the way he always ends up by my side in the middle of the night.  His head touching mine. 

The way he looks when he is being "big".  How he sucks in his lips, bats those eyelashes, and raises his chin.  It's all too much to take sometimes. 

He's defining who he is and I'm trying to keep my patience as we go.  I want nothing more than for him to be strong in what he believes and push for the goals in his life.  I just pray that those goals and beliefs are all pointed in the right direction. 

So I'm going to embrace it and turn his behavior to the right direction when I can.  Because if I could, I would choose to keep him forever just like he is.  The same movie watching, fruit, veggie, and sweets eating, brother loving and hating, mommy needing, and daddy adoring little boy for the rest of my life. 

A REAL look into a life with 3 boys

"I don't know how you do it with 3 boys in the house.  I wouldn't have the energy."

This is a comment I hear ALL.OF.THE.TIME!  I would have said it too before I had my crew.  Can you imagine 3 boys?  Triple the testosterone.  The running, jumping, fighting, climbing?  No pink, no dresses, no pretty hair, or painted nails.  No calm, quiet cups of tea, or barbies playing mommy in the doll houses. 

I thought I'd start giving you all a more realistic peek into what makes up my week nights. 

What's that?  Sugar.

Where was I?  Standing 6 inches from him cooking dinner.  He's fast and quiet AND DESTRUCTIVE!

But look at that face.

What's this?  Dry.Crusty.Pee.

When's the last time I cleaned that area?  Last week.  I now applaud Dale's decision to put cheaper linoleum tile squares in the boy's bathroom.  We WILL be  remodeling this room once they get that it is unacceptable to miss the target.  Make sure you see the little bit on the right on the floor there.

And what's this?  A booger on MY bathroom door handle.

How'd I happen to find it?  Guess!

What are they doing?  Holding puke buckets as we prepare to make a quick run to town because THIS mom didn't have any sick day supplies like chicken noodle soup or Sprite.

Anyone want to guess the ounces of puke and diarrhea I cleaned up yesterday and the night before?  No?!  How bout the amount of lethal gas emitted from the backside of these two that I was forced to breathe?  Come on????

Oh, and there that one is again.  What's he doing?  VIOLENTLY throwing trash out of the trash can.  Just look at him.

What does he do when you get on to him and remove him from the scene?  Laughs and sprints right back to the area then VIOLENTLY throws the trash out of the trash can and turns and looks at you with an evil grin.

And then my sister texts me this...



But then they do this.  And it makes all of THAT worth it.

That's a hug not a choke hold.

Note:  Everything but the sugar incident happened this week.  That was last week.  When they also did this on the same exact day around the same exact time as their brother was trying to sweeten the place up.

Waylon's most memorable quote from the week, "Mom I know what to do when you get mad at me.  Smile and say I love you.  Then you're not mad at me anymore."  Manipulative little sh....!

Grabbing my camera really helps with the urge to immediately react in a negative way.  I just hope this doesn't motivate them to outdo themselves the next time. 

PYHO - I Am Me

Today I wanted to support a blogging friend of mine on her two year anniversary of an awesome link up where she allows people to pour their hearts out in a post each week and link up. In return they get support, love, and sometimes validation. I wanted to write something, but I’m just not inspired today. My heart isn’t hurting. I’m not emotional about anyone specific thing right now. The anniversary of my Father-in-law’s death is right around the corner, but I want to choose to celebrate rather than mourn. Too many times I think of searching my heart needs to leave me in tears. I think it needs to bring sadness, grief, and mourning to the surface. The past that I feel should have been better in some areas dealt with once again.


But I can’t. Just thinking about searching my heart puts that oh so familiar knot in my throat and my eyes at the verge of tears. I don’t want to do it today.

What’s wrong with searching my heart for the good season I seem to be in on this particular day?

Truth is, I’m proud of myself right now. You won’t hear me say that too often especially on the day after one of my most embarrassing moments. I’m the girl that can never rate herself as excellent on the reviews even though I know I worked my ass off to knock it out of the park. I’m the girl that gets red in the face in interviews when I have to describe myself and what my strengths are. I’m the girl that stumbles over her words in response to “Tell me about yourself.”

I’m not saying I’m perfect, far from it. There are TONS of things I still need to work hard at every single day of my life. I’m not saying I’m better than you, I’m not comparing. This isn’t about you. What I’m saying is I’ve spent years being shy, doubting myself, feeling insecure, undeserving. I’m finally in a season of my life where I just don’t care that much about what other people think of me in a negative way. I am me. I finally feel like a solid human being that has a purpose in this life. I finally feel put together and deserving of other’s love. I finally feel free of earthly judgments and the crushing power they hold even if they come from within myself.

I’m not saying I feel like this every minute of every day. But, right now in this space I feel complete. It’s taken around thirty years to get me here and that is frustrating. To think of all the time I spent wasting in worry or insecurity is frustrating. If I only knew then what I know now. But I think this is something to be celebrated even if the celebration is a simple little blog post.

So, thank you, Shell for allowing us to search and pour our hearts out every week if we so choose in any way we deem necessary. And thanks to all of you that read, mostly silently ; ) I know you are there. Thanks for your comments of support and love whether it is below or on Facebook or in a private email, even little comments once I see you in person. Thank you. This blog has allowed me to express myself in a way I may never have gotten to verbally. It has helped me express my feelings about past things, my hurt around losing loved ones, and my love for many, many people in my life and so much more. This blog and all that comes with it is a big factor in where I am today.

What I really think of exercise...

From the time I was little I have been active.  Gymnastics, softball, whatever those little track meet things were.  I have also always been a skinny poll.  Flat chested, bird legged, toothpick armed, blonde haired, skinny girl.  It runs in my genes.  The first time I got pregnant, the weight? No big deal.  You could hardly tell I was pregnant until late in the 7th month.  The weight after wasn't bad getting off.  Plus I was a bridesmaid in a wedding so I had more motivation to get the weight off.  So, I spent time in the gym running my butt off over my lunch break and going back to work a sweaty mess.

The 2nd kid, I got B.I.G. big.  I did squats in my closet after I got up in the morning in hopes to ward off the dimples I knew would be coming.  That seemed to make them show up faster.  It took a little longer to get the weight off, but still under a year and I ran in the summer around the lake across the street. 

Then Mr. Surprise came into our lives.  I didn't get as big as I did with Waylon.  However, my grandma looking knees and the dimples from my backside seemed to round their way to the front of my thighs.  And I had no calf muscles.  The weight started melting off like usual, but still the dimples were there and those lower abs were not bouncing back.  Instead they were sticking out making me look 5 months pregnant when I was bloated or after I ate a big meal.  Mexican food has been an enemy of mine.  But what I really couldn't take was being skinny but fat.  I wasn't eating all that healthy and my body felt like a big blob of pudding, not even jello, sometimes jello is too stiff even when it wiggles.

I wanted to be healthy, STRONG, solid. 

Insert Insanity.

Once I stopped breastfeeding I told myself I would use the extra time I would gain to workout and start getting back to my physical, strong self.  So, it took a few weeks after I quit breastfeeding because I made excuses.  The sleep was more important.  The pain will be too much to bear.  Until I made up my mind one morning to set the alarm earlier and get up and get started. 

My Goal? 

1. Firm up
2. Work out 4 times a week in the morning
3. Eat better

How I'm doing?  Great.  I've missed one workout because I forgot to set my alarm on a Monday morning.  I actually crave working out more.  I sweat my butt off and look hideous, but I'm in my livingroom by myself, so I don't care. 

There are still some workouts, like this mornings, where I have to take some breaks, but for the most part I am powering through.  I think the Plyometric Cardio Circuit workout is the hardest because of the Ski Abs and the In and Out Abs at the end of the work out.  KILLER! 

I don't think I'm seeing the results as fast as I would like because I workout Monday through Thursday and then I am off for three days unless I throw in a Saturday workout.  By the time Sunday rolls around I feel like I've lost everything I gained from the week.  But, week after week I improve a little bit more. 

What I'm happy about?  I am moving.  I am motivated to be moving.  I'm craving more.  My pants fit tighter only due to the muscle in my legs.  I see the biggest improvement in my thighs.  I can make it through the majority of the workouts without small breaks.  I'm am sweating and I feel strong.  When you punch my thigh it doesn't jiggle for 10 minutes.  And there is nothing like the high of accomplishing something you thought was too hard to do.   The thing I wouldn't trade for anything is the amount of energy I have in the afternoon.  I work on little sleep, adding exercise to my routine has made all the difference in the afternoons.  Plus, I'm not sore.  There were times as an athlete that I wouldn't be able to get up from my chair without help or moaning.  This makes me feel it, but I am never too stiff or too sore to get up from a sitting position. 

What I'm going to continue to work on?  Eating better, making healthier choices with what hits my mouth.  NO MORE COOKIES AS SOON AS I WALK IN THE DOOR.  My butt still needs to be smoother and my lower abs need to be tighter. 

When will I get to the point of satisfaction?  When I have a four or six pack and have very little dimple count! 

When will I stop? Hopefully never.  Maybe I won't do Insanity every day, but I plan to be doing something.  I've got three very energetic and destructive boys to keep up with.  Something's got to keep me going.

You can do this too.  You just have to make the decision to start.  Get up one morning and just do it.  And do it until you can't anymore.  I know there are woman out there that work hard, try to eat right, and do a little exercise from time to time and still can't keep the weight off.  I truly believe it has to do with how you were made, what genes you were blessed with.  One of these components alone will not work for everyone.  You have to put this stuff together and apply yourself for you and you alone.  No diet or pill or surgery is going to give you lasting, healthy results such as getting up and moving and paying attention to what you are eating.  That's the key, folks.  Stop wasting energy trying to find an easier, faster, magical way.  Don't make it hard and stop making excuses. 

Need someone to help you get there?  I've got the people.  If you're in the Kansas City area I've got two great resources for you.  If you are interested email me or leave a comment below.  I'll hook you up.

I feel I need to say something about not being paid and the people at Insanity have no idea who I am.  These are my thoughts and my thoughts alone.

When I grow up

"What do you want to do when you grow up"

"A teacher"

"A Veternarian"

"Ew, a business woman who wears those sexy black pencil skirts and tucked in, crisp, button up shirts, and high heels"

"A Policewoman"

"A mom"

Truth is as a kid my go-to answer was always a teacher.  And if I was talking to my grandma it was a Veternarian because one time I told her I wanted to be a Veternarian and it stuck with her.  One time she answered the question for me when someone asked, "oh, my girl's gonna be a Veternarian.  And she will too because once this girl says something she sticks to it.  She's a woman of her word."  So, there you have it, anytime my grandma was around that was my answer.  Isn't it funny the things that stick with you?  That had to be at least twenty years ago.  (I just realized that typing 20 years ago actually puts me back around my teens.  I was going for like, 10 years old.)

I got in high school when that question really started to matter and my grandma was no longer with us.  I freaked out a little as the date on which this important decision in my life had to be made got closer and closer. 

"I don't know if I want to be a teacher. School sucks!"

 Being a Vet was good until I realized you had to take care of ALL animals not just cute little cats and dogs and occasionally horses.  I would have to touch snakes and pigs and birth cows.  Plus watching a horse "make" a baby with another horse? Vomit worthy.  Watching the same horse give birth a few months down the road?  Vomit worthy and extremely sad, she lost her colt.  Plus, all that school.

A Policewoman?  Totally cool and I would always be in shape and know every one's dirty business, but the hours weren't for me. 

In a mall on some trip I was on, maybe state track, I passed an expensive clothing store and I said to myself, "that's it.  Someday.  Someday I will be successful, make my own money and plenty of it.  Someday I will be able to afford and wear these clothes."  So that's what did it, I was going to major in Business.  I don't think I ever told anyone that was my final deciding point at least it's the one I remember.

I don't regret the decision.  I enjoy what I do (I work at a Life Insurance company - it's important, if you don't have some get some and I don't even work in sales).  And those clothes?  I'm still cheap as hell.  And they keep it too damn cold in these buildings for sexy pencil skirts and crisp tucked in button up shirts.  So here I am, the arguably successful business woman hopefully on my way to making the money I want to make some day and making a difference in this world in my own little way.

But a mom?  That has been my lifetime dream and it is here, living, breathing, thriving.  I'm in the midst of my dream.  It's playing out right before my eyes.  That dream?  I was only shown the highlights.  Taking my kids around with me.  Person after countless person telling me what a beautiful and well behaved family I have.  Tickling, cuddling, hugging, and kissing day after day.  The time went by slow and there were always smiles and batted eyelashes.  Those are the things my dreams were filled with. 

But the real stuff?

It all makes for great stories and laughs in between.  You know, once the stress of it all has time to settle.