Just when we thought we caught a break from bussing the kids to various sporting activities, winter basketball strikes again! Kaylee's third grade team had a "jambouree" this weekend over on the East Side and basically had back to back games until after lunch.
I'm thoroughly convinced that the ACTUAL definition of a "jambouree" is a day long sporting event where your youngest child is only willing to watch about 30 seconds of one game and spends the rest of the morning and early afternoon begging you, BEGGING you, to play on your iPhone. Nothing says mom of the year like shoving an electronic in my kid's face to shut him the hell up.
Like moths to a flame, if any of the other younger sibs busts out an iPad, DS, or cell phone the kids all gather around and watch. I don't know why it is a fun time for kids to watch other kids play games, but perhaps it's just that they are hypnotized by the pretty lights. Who knows.
Because we were on the east side ALL morning, we didn't really get to do much but snack so by the time the games were done both children (and husband) were ravenously hungry and unwilling to wait to eat until we got home.
Mark drove around while the kids fought, I ignored them and tried to find a place to eat. We had heard of this great place on the east side (whose name I will not mention because I really do love this place and plan to go back, and I want to be sure they let me in the door!) and BOOM it popped up on the little mappy thing on Mark's phone so we pulled in.
Never having been there before we didn't see the other, more larger parking lot until later on. There were two spaces left in the whole upper lot. The largest and most SPACIOUS of spaces of course is reserved for that one in 100,000 cars in Portland that needs a charge in between uses. And it was FRONT ROW baby. Front row. Not even people with a handicapped sticker get front row on the east side, unless they drive an electric car.
The other space left over was rather small. As with all parking spaces in the greater Portland metro area they are designed for only a Smart Car to park there. You know those little two-seat cars that are basically a golf cart with a delicious hard candy shell? Yes, those cars.
I didn't feel TOO bad as we parked between a Toyota 4 door truck and a Yukon, and we were in my little white Kia, but all the same we couldn't even open our doors all the way, which made for a pretty funny visual watching our family try and get out of the car.
I think we had "suburban" family written all over us, and the lady that took us to our table put us, the family of four, right by the back door so that every time another group of diners came in we felt the arctic blast of the outdoors. Mind you, the place was NOT that busy, it was well after the lunch rush. It was while we were seated at that table that we realized there was another parking lot. But really, people, if you drive anything larger than a Prius you're screwed for parking in this town no matter what.
We sat down, checked out the menu (OMG so many tasty options) and ordered drinks. Both kids had been up late the night before, watching a movie with Mark and I and totally gorging on popcorn and then they got up ass crack early, so you can imagine how well things were going with them being tired and hungry and all. That's ALWAYS a pleasure.
Our waiter brought us drinks and we settled in to wait for our food. As always, about 30 seconds after our order was taken the kids started asking when our food would come out. Everything in this place is locally grown, source, and organic so I told them they might be awhile as they were going to have to slaughter the cow and dig up the potatoes from the garden for their fries. They were in no mood for sarcasm.
Knowing that this place is billed as a "sustainable" business it was a bit surprising that they offered paper napkins and plastic cups for the kids, but at the time I didn't really give it much thought.
As is nearly ALWAYS the case, one of my children spilled a drink. Theirs of course came with a plastic cover on top and I ordered just water, so the drink that got tossed was Mark's sustainable root beer.
I'm sure I've mentioned that the little boy was a little on the worn out side, so as soon as the drink went flying he totally started crying and saying "I don't deserve to go tonight!" (we had an invitation to a birthday party that evening) and just totally freaking out.
I did what any quick-thinking suburban mom would do, whose son was coming unhinged while the root beer seeped out over the floor in the path of wait staff delivering food to hungry patrons: I grabbed a stack of paper napkins! Truly, there was no one at the counter when I went to ask for a towel, I really really did plan to get a towel.
But in that moment of the entire restaurant of people watching this scene unfold, I figured time was a-wasting and I'd better get moving to clean it up and reassure my son of his worth as a human being.
I kid you not, the mess was almost completely cleaned up by the time our waiter came over with his little yellow towel, most of it had been mopped up by what he probably thinks is a big ass case of napkins (but probably was maybe a half a package).
He proceeded to repeat not once, not twice, not thrice, but FOUR TIMES: "I've got this! Stop wasting napkins. You're wasting napkins. Stop wasting napkins. I've got this. You are wasting napkins, stop!" He probably dabbed up 1/8 of the mess, I was almost done for shit's sake. And I'm a grown ass woman, I don't need people to REPEAT things four times for me, my kids yes, me no. I heard him the first time!
I am sure he could feel every little tree branch around shudder with terror as we used a handful of paper napkins made of recycled fiber. The dude clearly is NOT a parent, or he would totally get why a mom (or dad) would grab the first available item for mopping and get it done quickly before the kid completely fell apart out of guilt and embarassment.
Honestly, I felt like the whole damn restaurant was watching us, and judging us, with a tsk tsk and "can you BELIEVE that mom used paper napkins?" and "Oh my GAWD what was she thinking?" or "well, how many trees did SHE just kill?"
I think the most mortifying part of it was just the nonstop lecture from the waiter as if I am a total dumbass woman with no concept of conservation and sustainability. If you and your happy little towel had been handy, jackass, I wouldn't have needed the napkins. And if you don't want people to USE the napkins, don't put them out. Just sayin'.
So Mark and I have completely written an episode of Portlandia based on this experience, and I'll post it once it has been completely rejected by Fred & Carrie (totally on a first name basis since they filmed in our 'hood last summer, not to same drop or anything).
And it is a doozie, I've got to tell you. But I'll never publish the name of the restaurant because I want to go back and they might permanently ban me from going there! Head on over to the east side, though, if you want to have a quintessential Portlandia experience. They. Are. EVERYWHERE.
Monday, December 3, 2012
Sunday, December 2, 2012
My Christmas Wish List
I don't think I'm asking for a lot this year, really I don't. I want just a few of the finer things in life. Here's my list, in no particular order:
1. Toilets that clean themselves. Daily. You'd think that a busy family who is never home would not have horrifyingly smelly shitters, and you would be so very wrong.
2. My children to have ONE WEEK where they a) behave well in school, b) turn in all their schoolwork ON TIME, and c) remember their f-ing homework needs to be turned in every. damn. day. Just one week. Just one.
3. A little elf that can make my fake tree look real. That would mean he would need to go over every branch of our excessively large 10 foot tree and "fluff" all the branches out. I gave up after about and hour so our tree has that whole "Charlie Brown Christmas" vibe, but I turned it so the front at least looks presentable.
4. Children that will say "yes mom" when asked to put their clean clothes away and actually PUT their clothes away, rather than saying yes but stashing them in all the nooks and crannies in their rooms so by Wednesday they can't find any of their uniform pants for school because they didn't put them WHERE THEY BELONG IN THE G-DAMN CLOSET. On. A. Hanger.
5. A little dish fairy that will magically move the clean dishes into the cupboard, and the dirty ones into the dishwasher so we don't end up piling dishes in the sink until we've used all the ones still in the dishwasher. It's a vicious cycle folks. Vicious.
6. One Saturday morning, just one, where the kids aren't waking up at the ass crack of dawn. One Saturday, where they actually sleep in until after 7, so we don't find them playing the computer, watching television or "making crafts" that usually results in about an hours worth of work to clean up scraps of paper and glitter glue from places you don't want to talk about.
7. I would love my kids to stop bickering about nothing. And everything. And a lot of shit in between. I feel like I have two little lawyers in my house, each one arguing their point, even though they don't even really have a good point to argue. Oh, and I would love it if they didn't ALSO argue with me.
8. I want my motivation to get up at 5am to go to the gym to return. It's gone. Gone like a freight train. Gone like yesterday. Gone. So instead I'm stuck going in the evening and having creepy totally UN-HOT men watch me push the sled around the gym. Shiver.
9. Holiday music like we used to hear when we were kids. This new shit makes me crazy. If you're going to sing an old hit, don't sing it like you're an up and coming R&B star and drag every note out by changing the music key five times and just being obnoxious. YAY for you that you can sing, so just fucking sing, this ain't American Idol.
I think that's about it for the time being, I am sure there are other things I can think of, but these are simply top of mind at the moment. What about ya'll? What is on YOUR wish list?
1. Toilets that clean themselves. Daily. You'd think that a busy family who is never home would not have horrifyingly smelly shitters, and you would be so very wrong.
2. My children to have ONE WEEK where they a) behave well in school, b) turn in all their schoolwork ON TIME, and c) remember their f-ing homework needs to be turned in every. damn. day. Just one week. Just one.
3. A little elf that can make my fake tree look real. That would mean he would need to go over every branch of our excessively large 10 foot tree and "fluff" all the branches out. I gave up after about and hour so our tree has that whole "Charlie Brown Christmas" vibe, but I turned it so the front at least looks presentable.
4. Children that will say "yes mom" when asked to put their clean clothes away and actually PUT their clothes away, rather than saying yes but stashing them in all the nooks and crannies in their rooms so by Wednesday they can't find any of their uniform pants for school because they didn't put them WHERE THEY BELONG IN THE G-DAMN CLOSET. On. A. Hanger.
5. A little dish fairy that will magically move the clean dishes into the cupboard, and the dirty ones into the dishwasher so we don't end up piling dishes in the sink until we've used all the ones still in the dishwasher. It's a vicious cycle folks. Vicious.
6. One Saturday morning, just one, where the kids aren't waking up at the ass crack of dawn. One Saturday, where they actually sleep in until after 7, so we don't find them playing the computer, watching television or "making crafts" that usually results in about an hours worth of work to clean up scraps of paper and glitter glue from places you don't want to talk about.
7. I would love my kids to stop bickering about nothing. And everything. And a lot of shit in between. I feel like I have two little lawyers in my house, each one arguing their point, even though they don't even really have a good point to argue. Oh, and I would love it if they didn't ALSO argue with me.
8. I want my motivation to get up at 5am to go to the gym to return. It's gone. Gone like a freight train. Gone like yesterday. Gone. So instead I'm stuck going in the evening and having creepy totally UN-HOT men watch me push the sled around the gym. Shiver.
9. Holiday music like we used to hear when we were kids. This new shit makes me crazy. If you're going to sing an old hit, don't sing it like you're an up and coming R&B star and drag every note out by changing the music key five times and just being obnoxious. YAY for you that you can sing, so just fucking sing, this ain't American Idol.
I think that's about it for the time being, I am sure there are other things I can think of, but these are simply top of mind at the moment. What about ya'll? What is on YOUR wish list?
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
My Elf on the Shelf Is Broken
My Elf on the Shelf is broken
I think I'll send him home,
Turns out he's just as useful (and creepy)
As a garden gnome.
The kids have not stopped fighting
Since he came to play,
I don't think they'd even notice
If the damn thing went away.
I thought he might bring peace
To our chaotic house,
The kids would get along all day
And be quiet as a mouse.
Instead they've just grown louder
And more annoying by the hour,
They push and shove and kick and bite
And keep my mood so sour.
I hoped he would encourage them
To be sweeter to each other,
That's apparently asking far too much
For a big sister and her brother.
I thought they might be polite
And do what they were told,
But I guess the stupid freaky elf
Lost his powers in the cold.
Those nightly trips to the north pole
Must really take their toll,
The kids are boxing with each other
They are really on a roll.
My other beef with that damn elf
Is he can't quite find his place,
He never seems to remember
That he needs to move his face.
I'm pretty sure the kids
are on the naughty list,
That poor little elf
Is probably pretty pissed.
His presence doesn't seem to help
The kids can't get along,
I really need a drink right now
and it better be something strong.
I'm hopeful as the holidays near
That the kids can get a clue,
And learn to get along, be polite
For something different and new.
For if they don't stop freaking out
And being a pain in my rear,
I'm pretty sure that fucking elf
Is going to disappear.
I think I'll send him home,
Turns out he's just as useful (and creepy)
As a garden gnome.
The kids have not stopped fighting
Since he came to play,
I don't think they'd even notice
If the damn thing went away.
I thought he might bring peace
To our chaotic house,
The kids would get along all day
And be quiet as a mouse.
Instead they've just grown louder
And more annoying by the hour,
They push and shove and kick and bite
And keep my mood so sour.
I hoped he would encourage them
To be sweeter to each other,
That's apparently asking far too much
For a big sister and her brother.
I thought they might be polite
And do what they were told,
But I guess the stupid freaky elf
Lost his powers in the cold.
Those nightly trips to the north pole
Must really take their toll,
The kids are boxing with each other
They are really on a roll.
My other beef with that damn elf
Is he can't quite find his place,
He never seems to remember
That he needs to move his face.
I'm pretty sure the kids
are on the naughty list,
That poor little elf
Is probably pretty pissed.
His presence doesn't seem to help
The kids can't get along,
I really need a drink right now
and it better be something strong.
I'm hopeful as the holidays near
That the kids can get a clue,
And learn to get along, be polite
For something different and new.
For if they don't stop freaking out
And being a pain in my rear,
I'm pretty sure that fucking elf
Is going to disappear.
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
365
It seems like I use numbers for post titles a lot, so why break a trend? If it ain't broke....or something.
I took a moment this morning to reflect on the last 365 days of my life. Even though my birthday was Friday, today is a day I want to celebrate more. And by celebrate I don't mean eating cake until I want to vomit celebrate, just a reflective celebration. Today is my new birthday.
One year ago today I embarked on an incredible journey that likely saved my life. It wasn't an easy trip let me tell you, but as I've learned in my meager 40 years, the greatest rewards are found at the end of a difficult journey. Kind of like childbirth. Jussayin'.
365 days ago I was a 39 year old woman who was horribly out of shape and not even remotely pleasantly plump. I was fat. A fatty fat fat girl. Up until childbirth and the subsequent years of being a human garbage can for all my kids' uneaten food I was a thin girl. A skinny girl. But time can do a number on any of us, priorities shift, we take less care of ourselves and worry more about our kids, jobs, husbands, houses, and making sure we've TiVo'd our favorite show: Justified.
Not that prioritizing your children & family is misplaced, quite the opposite, but it's easy to forget to take care of ourselves too. I lost my Dad when he was 70 years old because he never got the memo to be healthier, eat well and exercise regularly.
Shortly before my 39th birthday, despite myself, I had turned into the one thing I feared the most: my father. And when I say I feared it, I mean I feared turning into someone who didn't care about their health, someone who was content to be as they were, and someone who, if they didn't take better care would probably not see the age of 70.
I mean I did fear my dad as a kid, the tinkling of a belt buckle still gives me chills, but please note I deserved every smack on the ass I ever got (and probably more that he never even knew about!). But that's another blog, and likely a lengthy and expensive stint in therapy. We won't go there.
My neighbor, Cyndie, and BRF was on a program called Take Shape for Life and was shrinking before my very eyes. I asked her about it, and got in touch with a healthy coach, and took a giant leap of faith to get started.
And it was a BIG leap of faith....I had grown accustomed to cooking, from scratch, almost every meal. I avoided processed foods like I avoided the junior high nerd at the after school dance. (sadly, he was the only person who was ever willing to ask me to dance, but I digress, not much you can do when you're six feet tall in the 8th grade)
But this food, while "processed" was basically medical grade food. I had grown tired of making excuses like "I'll just be fat I guess but at least I eat healthy" when in all reality I wanted desperately to feel normal again. I never, ever thought I would be thin. EV. ER. So, I added water to my first soup and gave it a taste test. It was passable, I thought.
Over the months I actually found many things I enjoyed eating, I was hungry less, had more energy and was able to do something I missed almost as much as I miss my Dad: RUN.
Years of being overweight gave me constant injuries (and fabulous excuses) as to why I couldn't run. But once I got started it was like my long lost friend came back. And on every run I took, I thought about my Dad, and felt his presence, running alongside me, cheering me along, making up for all the mistakes he made that prevented him from being alive.
I need running like I need air to breathe and chocolate to eat. It is a connection I have with my Dad that can never be broken, and it is how I remind myself of the sacrifice I made all those months to stay healthy and why I'll never go back.
I can't believe what a difference a year makes. I had no idea a year ago what was in store for me this year. As I reflect on the last 365 days I can't quite believe that I found myself again through running, lost 50 lbs, ran in a relay race, survived cancer (would NEVER have found the lump so quickly with those extra 50 lbs), started a nonprofit foundation and launched a race series that will go nationwide someday.
Getting healthy gave me my life back and sent me on a journey even more wild than I ever could have imagined. And I can't wait to see what's next.
I took a moment this morning to reflect on the last 365 days of my life. Even though my birthday was Friday, today is a day I want to celebrate more. And by celebrate I don't mean eating cake until I want to vomit celebrate, just a reflective celebration. Today is my new birthday.
One year ago today I embarked on an incredible journey that likely saved my life. It wasn't an easy trip let me tell you, but as I've learned in my meager 40 years, the greatest rewards are found at the end of a difficult journey. Kind of like childbirth. Jussayin'.
365 days ago I was a 39 year old woman who was horribly out of shape and not even remotely pleasantly plump. I was fat. A fatty fat fat girl. Up until childbirth and the subsequent years of being a human garbage can for all my kids' uneaten food I was a thin girl. A skinny girl. But time can do a number on any of us, priorities shift, we take less care of ourselves and worry more about our kids, jobs, husbands, houses, and making sure we've TiVo'd our favorite show: Justified.
Not that prioritizing your children & family is misplaced, quite the opposite, but it's easy to forget to take care of ourselves too. I lost my Dad when he was 70 years old because he never got the memo to be healthier, eat well and exercise regularly.
Shortly before my 39th birthday, despite myself, I had turned into the one thing I feared the most: my father. And when I say I feared it, I mean I feared turning into someone who didn't care about their health, someone who was content to be as they were, and someone who, if they didn't take better care would probably not see the age of 70.
I mean I did fear my dad as a kid, the tinkling of a belt buckle still gives me chills, but please note I deserved every smack on the ass I ever got (and probably more that he never even knew about!). But that's another blog, and likely a lengthy and expensive stint in therapy. We won't go there.
My neighbor, Cyndie, and BRF was on a program called Take Shape for Life and was shrinking before my very eyes. I asked her about it, and got in touch with a healthy coach, and took a giant leap of faith to get started.
And it was a BIG leap of faith....I had grown accustomed to cooking, from scratch, almost every meal. I avoided processed foods like I avoided the junior high nerd at the after school dance. (sadly, he was the only person who was ever willing to ask me to dance, but I digress, not much you can do when you're six feet tall in the 8th grade)
But this food, while "processed" was basically medical grade food. I had grown tired of making excuses like "I'll just be fat I guess but at least I eat healthy" when in all reality I wanted desperately to feel normal again. I never, ever thought I would be thin. EV. ER. So, I added water to my first soup and gave it a taste test. It was passable, I thought.
Over the months I actually found many things I enjoyed eating, I was hungry less, had more energy and was able to do something I missed almost as much as I miss my Dad: RUN.
Years of being overweight gave me constant injuries (and fabulous excuses) as to why I couldn't run. But once I got started it was like my long lost friend came back. And on every run I took, I thought about my Dad, and felt his presence, running alongside me, cheering me along, making up for all the mistakes he made that prevented him from being alive.
I need running like I need air to breathe and chocolate to eat. It is a connection I have with my Dad that can never be broken, and it is how I remind myself of the sacrifice I made all those months to stay healthy and why I'll never go back.
I can't believe what a difference a year makes. I had no idea a year ago what was in store for me this year. As I reflect on the last 365 days I can't quite believe that I found myself again through running, lost 50 lbs, ran in a relay race, survived cancer (would NEVER have found the lump so quickly with those extra 50 lbs), started a nonprofit foundation and launched a race series that will go nationwide someday.
Getting healthy gave me my life back and sent me on a journey even more wild than I ever could have imagined. And I can't wait to see what's next.
Thursday, November 8, 2012
39 + 1
Tomorrow, Nov. 9, is my 40th birthday. I had planned to run 13.1 before 11am so I could cross "run a half marathon before I turn 40" of my runner's wish list. But I realized after my bout with the flu (so bad I thought they might admit me to the hospital almost two weeks ago) that it was just that: a wish.
It was a goal, but a wishful one at that. I realized that running that 13.1 on a deadline makes as much sense as me entering the Miss America pageant. None. What. So. Ever.
I can run 13.1 anytime I want. Anytime I want that is, when I am healthy. I'm not. Despite every effort I've made for almost 4 months to pretend that I am fine and good as new, I'm simply not. And all that caught up to me in the most frightening way on October 28.
So for my 40th birthday I think I might get up early. I'll run, make no mistake about that. But I'll run a quiet 3-4 miles and just enjoy the run. No pushing it, no worrying about my speed, my splits or average pace. No, I won't even use my Nike +. I'll just plug in the tunes and call it good.
After that, I probably won't think anything more about it being my birthday. I'll be getting ready to celebrate another birthday: the inaugural Cause + Event Portland race on Sunday. To be honest, I'm more excited about seeing the race than about celebrating my big 4-0.
Not that I'm bummed about turning forty, quite the opposite actually. I'm healthier, fitter, and more active than I've ever been in my life. I feel better about myself than I did a year ago. I feel confident (like I could launch a nonprofit and a national race series confident) and that confidence has proven me to be right. So far.
I'm ready to put a lid on my thirties. As I've said they were some of the best and also some of the worst years of my life. I'm embracing 40 with everything I am. I look forward to being 40-something. I'm gonna kick 40's ass. Just sayin'.
For the last remaining hours of my 30s I don't have much planned. Gonna kiss my kids before I go to bed, have a snack and talk to my husband. And tomorrow, I'll wake up and be 40 and life will go on, like it always does.
It was a goal, but a wishful one at that. I realized that running that 13.1 on a deadline makes as much sense as me entering the Miss America pageant. None. What. So. Ever.
I can run 13.1 anytime I want. Anytime I want that is, when I am healthy. I'm not. Despite every effort I've made for almost 4 months to pretend that I am fine and good as new, I'm simply not. And all that caught up to me in the most frightening way on October 28.
So for my 40th birthday I think I might get up early. I'll run, make no mistake about that. But I'll run a quiet 3-4 miles and just enjoy the run. No pushing it, no worrying about my speed, my splits or average pace. No, I won't even use my Nike +. I'll just plug in the tunes and call it good.
After that, I probably won't think anything more about it being my birthday. I'll be getting ready to celebrate another birthday: the inaugural Cause + Event Portland race on Sunday. To be honest, I'm more excited about seeing the race than about celebrating my big 4-0.
Not that I'm bummed about turning forty, quite the opposite actually. I'm healthier, fitter, and more active than I've ever been in my life. I feel better about myself than I did a year ago. I feel confident (like I could launch a nonprofit and a national race series confident) and that confidence has proven me to be right. So far.
I'm ready to put a lid on my thirties. As I've said they were some of the best and also some of the worst years of my life. I'm embracing 40 with everything I am. I look forward to being 40-something. I'm gonna kick 40's ass. Just sayin'.
For the last remaining hours of my 30s I don't have much planned. Gonna kiss my kids before I go to bed, have a snack and talk to my husband. And tomorrow, I'll wake up and be 40 and life will go on, like it always does.
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