Father's Day Realization

OK, so it's not Father's Day anymore, but I didn't want to write this on, what I now think of as, "Tim's" day. I don't like to dwell on the fact that I don't have my dad with me any longer on Father's Day, or on the fact that I should've spent more time with him on his Father's Days when he was here. When Father's Day rolls around, I always think of him first thing in the morning and last thing at night, but the rest of the day is devoted to Tim, the father of my children. And that's how my dad would want it to be.

So today I finally caught up on my blog reading, and I found this on the Post Secret site for Sunday, Father's Day. And it made me realize that perhaps this is why I have not felt the need, or even wanted, to go back to church. My dad was a pastor ... preaching in his prison ministry was close to his heart. And he always had the word of God to speak when needed. He was patient when it came to explaining things to those who really didn't understand or didn't want to listen. Many thought of it as "Bible banging," but over the years I grew accustomed to his ways. He only wanted to share the love God had put in his heart.

Perhaps one day I will be able to find a place of worship that makes me feel as comfortable as sitting with my own dad ... only then will my children be able to understand the strength and warmth of God's love. I can't seem to explain it the way Dad did. The only thing comparable is the warmth and strength of their own PawPaw's love ... which neither of them will get to experience first hand.

A picture is worth a thousand words

Recently I've had to realize how big my kids are getting. With Kendall's 5th birthday, she has found a new independence that I had hoped would come with age. She enjoys helping me around the house now (never mind that she gets stickers and allowance for helping). She dresses herself in clothing and shoes that match. She bathes herself. She brushes her own hair and teeth. And just yesterday she cleaned the entire playroom by herself, and everything was in the correct bin when I checked. (You know this is no small feat if you've seen our playroom.) With all of this independence, I have allowed Kendall to take on some "duties" as the big sister. I had no idea this would cause one of the most humorous moments of my mommy-career.

Allow me to give you some background. A few weeks ago, Tanner started waking before the coffee pot comes on. We have a simple rule in the mornings -- no one gets out of bed before the coffee pot comes on. I used to set it for 7:30, then it went back to 7:00, and now with the early sunrise, I've moved it all the way back to 6:30. Anyway, I digress. Tanner used to sleep until 8 ... and Kendall always woke fairly early, but she would just climb in bed with me and we would lie there for an hour or so until Tannerbug woke. So when he started getting up early, I knew the sleeping in was over. (He even woke up before 6 one morning; I thought I would die.)

At first, he would just call me to come get him. I would try to get him to go back to bed, but it rarely worked. Then I tried putting him in bed with me, but he doesn't lie still the way Kendall does, so it was a moot point. After a few days, I noticed he wasn't coming in anymore. But shortly after 6:30, I would hear giggles. From Kendall's monitor. So Tanner had started going into Kendall's room and lying in bed with her. No big deal. The coffee pot kicks on, and they come get me.

But this past week they have started a new morning ritual. Lord knows what time they wake up, but Tanner goes to Kendall's room and they go upstairs to the playroom. I never hear a peep. Kendall usually puts in a movie (It has been Annie this week since she got it for her birthday.), and they sit in their little Pottery Barn chairs and watch a movie until I get up. But yesterday I was met in the kitchen by two beautiful princesses - one in a gorgeous pink dress and ballet shoes, and one in a tu-tu with Sleeping Beauty high heels. The two prettiest princesses I've ever seen.

While Tim wasn't terribly excited about the whole thing, I found it to be absolutely precious. When we tried to "talk" to Tanner about dressing in Sissy's dresses, he matter-of-factly stated, "Sissy let me borrow one." He, in fact, did not mean to dress as a princess. He simply wanted to play dress up with Sissy, and his Batman costume was nowhere to be found.

So he improvised. (Side note : If you're looking for something to give Tanner for his birthday, boy dress up clothes would be ideal!)

This made my day and kept me smiling every time I got frustrated with the little things that irritate me. I was reminded that I have been waiting for this day for a long time -- not the day that my son would dress like a girl, but the day when my two angels would play together and enjoy each other's company. This moment is why I decided on two children instead of one. These moments are few and far between, so I'll take them while I can. And I was reminded, once again, that this is why God made me ...

Down in the Dumps

The only way to describe how I'm feeling these days. And I wish I knew exactly why. I can't blame it on the weather -- everything has been gorgeous here, lately. My kids have been pretty good, 85% of the day at least. Tanner hasn't been sleeping well, but I'm pretty used to not getting much sleep, thanks to his big sister, so I can handle some early mornings. We celebrated Kendall's 5th birthday last weekend, and she is officially a big girl now, which puts me in a good mood of sorts. She is more willing to help around the house now, which is certainly a welcome addition to our days. I've been seeing more of Tim lately, since he's been getting home from work fairly early in the day. I feel like we're getting some pretty good family time in here and there, and the kids are so much fun to "travel" with now. We've taken them on the boat and to the pool, and now we even are able to shop with them, whereas we used to try to dump them on Nana every chance we could to get odds and ends taken care of.

So what could be the problem? Why am I feeling so grumpy?

The absolute only reason I can come up with is this weight-loss thing I'm facing.

****Warning -- If you want to remind me that I look "great" or that I shouldn't be worrying about "a little 5 lb. gain," then stop reading now. I don't care. And I mean that in the nicest way possible.

So when I went off the meds a few months ago, 5 pounds jumped right on my stomach and thighs. No big deal, really, considering I had dropped about 40 pounds. No big deal until I had to start donning the swimsuits. When I put on the bikini the first time on the boat, I realized I don't look as good as I did last year. What's up with that? While others may not notice the 5 pounds, I do. When you are only 5 feet tall, 5 pounds is a lot. So I decided that I must fix this ... must get the 5 pounds off.

First things first. I got another journal for writing down my points for WW (which is a [ain in itself; I used to 27 points whne I started, and now get 20), stocked up on all the good for you food I used to eat so I could stop eating the kids' foods. Started flipping through the WW cookbook and making notes of some good options for dinners. Started walking in the AMs with Tanner in a stroller. Then the inevitable happened ... Kendall got out of school.

Now walking with the kids is impossible. (If you haven't tried it, please do before you judge.)

So plan B was to start using the P90X set that Tim bought a few months back. We were gung-ho at first. The workouts are super intense ... I couldn't even get through the first workout completely the first time (but I did do the whole thing the second week through!). And I was so sore after day 1 that I had to take a break between day 1 and day 2. Anyway, I'm supposed to work out every day for an hour+ for 90 days to get a rockin' hard body.

Yeah, I hear what you're thinking ... "So how's that going for ya?"

No so good, which is why I guess I'm down. I want to work out. I really do. I want to eat well. I really do. And when I'm working out, I feel good. And I feel even better when I'm done ... but an hour out of my day is a lot. And since I only get naps out of Tanner every other day, and Kendall rarely lets me have an hour to myself, it's really difficult to keep up the entire workout without having to stop.

So here I am, technically on day 3 of week 3, but I've only completed day 1 of week 2 ... oh, and wait, the best part, I worked my butt off for 2 weeks on WW and gained a pound.

What???!!!!

Frustration is mounting ... I suppose after a year of having fat melt away, this is what I get. A taste of what it's really like to have to work hard to look good.

And maybe that's why I'm down. I like it better when things are easy! :)

Take A Bow

If you've been watching the birthday ticker on my page, or if you've talked to me at all in the last few weeks, you know my "baby" girl's 5th birthday is approaching. Usually on top of the birthday planning (her party was planned 3 months in advance last year), I feel a little slow right now. Her party is planned in my head, but there are still loose ends to tie up. This is the first year I have allowed Kendall to pick who she wants to invite. (Side note : I remember a few years back when my cousin Mya turned 5 and I thought it was so terrible that her parents allowed HER to decide who was invited to her birthday party. I am now kicking myself for judging -- who knew 5-year-old's could be so opinionated?!) So we invited 2 girls from school, 2 from dance, 2 from playgroup, 2 from the neighborhood, 2 other play friends, and cousins. And Tanner. (It was really sweet that she actually wanted Tanner to come and was upset when he wasn't on the list.) While a few have said they will not be able to make it (and I sighed with relief -- no offense), we will still have about 17 children to watch over at the neighborhood pool on Saturday. Should be a fun time.

So what has having a 5-year-old taught me? I have to think about that -- I honestly didn't know what life would be like when we got to this point. Most of you who have been reading probably thought Kendall would never make it to her 5th birthday (remember those years of no sleep???). But now here we are (well, almost, for all practical purposes). She has come so far this year. It seems like a different little girl from the one who had the perfect princess party last year. That 4-year-old was sweet and quiet, caring and cautious, almost to a fault. She threw temper tantrums at times, read quietly in her room others. She was a clinger -- in a new place with new people, she was always stuck close to my side. Slow to smile, slow to answer when questioned, I was afraid that she was going to be shy forever.

But just yesterday morning I was struck by a realization -- Kendall is not the same little girl. While getting ready for vacation bible school, I noticed that - gulp - she didn't need me anymore. I told her to go pick out a shirt to wear, and when I came in to help her get dressed, she had her clothes on (and they matched), she had shoes on, and she was brushing her own hair. She has gained independence. She is fearless, at times. She has grown so much in just 12 short months. Not only has she graduated from pre-K, but she has graduated from her first year of dance. She has graduated from her sleepless nights. She has graduated from her booster seat. She has graduated from her swimmies at the pool. She has graduated out of toddler size shoes and clothes. And she has almost graduated out of taking baths with little brother. How did all of this happen?

Hard to believe I am a mother of a 5-year-old. I am so proud. I swore I would never be one of those moms who cried at recital -- what was I thinking to swear that?! (I mean, really -- I'm crying typing this!) I am including pictures from pre-K graduation and dance recital. Both of these are examples of how much she has grown -- my "baby" stood on those stages, beaming with pride, and shined like a star!! No nerves, so tears, no anxiety -- she truly is a different girl now! And I never thought I could love her more than I did the day I first laid eyes on her, but I do. My cup runneth over ...