Mama confessions #10

I hide the toys that light up and make noise. I told people not to buy them for us, because I didn't want them cluttering up our house and my brain with their horrible electronic renditions of nursery songs... GAH. Anyway, that might make me a mean mom, but whatever, I'll take the ridicule along with my sanity, thank you.
Even still, there are a few that found their way into our house, and I hid them in the far back corner of the closet. I hid them so that I could take them out on days like... yesterday.
After a hard run I was so tired and so exhausted and so in need of a shower. And Sam was being so sad and so clingy and so if-you-put-me-down-you-will-regret-it. So I set him down in his crib [screams] and fished that little blinking singing piano toy out of the closet and handed it to Sam [more screams]. Then I pushed the little button and it started blinking and singing [awe-filled silence]. And he sat silently pushing the button over and over again for the next 15 minutes while I took a bubble bath in the next room and tried to ignore polly-wolly-doodle-all-day spewing forth from the new 'magic' toy.
And that is why I hide the noise making light up toys; Because sometimes Mama needs a little magic up her sleeve to make it through those days. Woe is me the day my son is de-sensitized to the magic. But for today, the magic is hidden away for another desperate moment.

Daddy's Rhymes

Z started reciting nursery rhymes to Sam the other night during his bath. I listened quietly for a few minutes, then encouraged him to continue... well, becuase it was just so darn entertaining. Here are a few nursery rhymes, Z style:

"Slickery, dickory dock.
Alice jumped off the clock.
uh... Bat mobile lost a wheel.
Or something. The end."

"Little Miss Muffet sat on her tuffet,
eating... I don't know, cottage cheese? I think.
The wolf came down, and passed it around.
uh... 98 bottles of beer on the wall."

"Old mother Hubbard sat in her cupboard...
whats this even about? I don't know." 
 
He would laugh after each one, and eventually I would tell him the correct words to the nursery rhymes, and he would usually respond, that's kind of terrible. Which he's right. Nursery rhymes are disturbing mostly. So maybe we'll just stick with Z's versions.
Tell me our kid is going to have a normal childhood. :)

Crunch

Cookie Monster

There's this episode of the office when Micheal Scott goes to the accountant to find out the financial status of the Michael Scott paper company. Upon receiving bleak news, he asks the accountant to 'crunch those numbers again', and the accountant is all-- 'It's a computer program, it's not gonna change anything...' and Michael says, 'Just crunch them again!' And Pam steps in-- 'He just wants you to make the sound'
So the accountant pushes a button on this keyboard and says 'crunch' and then they all look hopeful and Michael asks 'any change?'
No.

I kinda feel like Michael Scott in this scene when I look at our bank account.
Just crunch those numbers again-- maybe it will look different.
It's in a bleak state right now. And I know that we are blessed and have so much, and we have family helping us so that we can do this right now. I cannot and should not complain. We are blessed.
But I want to cry every time I look at the bank account-- every time I 'crunch' those numbers-- and know that we don't have money for groceries this week. Every time I crunch the number and I report to my husband-- hey, no spending money this week-- but it's the same report every week and it's frustrating that even though we will 'be good' and not spend a dime-- our account will still overdraw before the next paycheck hits. Every time I crunch those numbers and the number is red. Always red. Never black.

 And we are taken care of and we have plenty to eat and we are getting by-- by the grace of God and generosity of others. But it's humbling and frustrating and tiresome to worry over those numbers that never crunch in our favor.

The last few months have been the worst, but even as we've hit the bottom, there's a small hopeful light. I mean, it's SMALL. But it's there. September marks our last payment on all the hospital bills from last December. The last one. Once that is paid off... we can roll (most of*) that monthly payment into knocking out these student loans one at a time. It still seems overwhelming, but it will be exciting to have completely paid off that first debt.
*I say most of-- because some of those funds I would really like to use to pay for at least a portion of our own groceries.

In the mean time, we are trying to be creative about using our talents and resources to add to the family budget. Like... I have some home-canned organic pears and applesauce for sale-- if anyone is interested. We are selling and/or consigning excess... like some drum equipment, and a bunch of Sam's clothes. I am hoping also to sell some little boy bowties and suspenders that I make at various holiday/craft fairs this season. And of course Z is picking up as many extra hours at work as he can.

So I know we are on our way, but this financial season has been a tough one for me. I am learning about trusting God, humility, and that green monster of greed and discontent that can disguise himself so innocently. And then my little miracle bats his lashes and bright blue eyes sparkle at me, melting me. And say have to say thank you, God. Thank you for right where we are. Thank you for where we've come from, and where you are leading us to.
And thank you for blessing and caring for us. Thank you for your perfect way-- that so rarely looks like our way-- of 'crunching' those numbers in our favor.

Mama Confessions #9

Sam found the Dog's toy box today.
Obviously, I don't want my child playing with the dogs toys.
But upon further inspection of Sam's new obsession... I decided that I am a pretty lousy dog mom. The toy basket consisted of several chewed up plastic water bottles, a destroyed frisbee, a tangle of yarn, and a service bell. Sigh. No wonder the dogs are obsessed with the kid's toys.
We do occasionally purchase real toys for our dogs, but Charlie could care less, and Winston completely obliterates them within 30 seconds. But he really enjoys and savors a water bottle when he can sneak one... so whatever. The service bell they used to ring when they wanted to be let out, but now we have a dog door, so that was just tossed in the basket, and the yarn? I have no idea.
So anyway, excellent and safe toys. Pointy, chewed up, plastic stuff and Sam is fascinated. And the dogs are much too happy to share.
Sigh.

Losing ground

Nike FreeRun+ 2
Only the most amazing running shoe I have ever put my foot in.

Coming back from our vacation in CO I was excited about what a week of training at high altitude could do for my run in flat Kansas. It was definitely a challenge working out in in the high altitude... whoo oxygen! And nothing was flat... running up and down hills mountains was no easy task, but I felt good about putting in the work out there, and what that would mean when we got home...
Cue the sad trombone... WOP WOP.
I missed my (5 mile) long run the sunday we returned because of poor scheduling with my husband... but i was going to count my losses (I had only missed one day, that can't completely throw a training plan, right?) and hit it hard the next week. I got in my normal tuesday run, and was feeling pretty good... and then disaster hit.
Disaster in the form of a very sick 8 month old. Who then shared his sick with mama. And it knocked me on my butt for a few days. So I missed my normal training run, my long run, and did no cross training all week.
I attempted to get out one day for a run but only made it about a half mile before a coughing fit, a screaming child, and a rainstorm forced me to head home. Because sitting on the couch had me gasping for breath through restricted airways, my husband suggested I just take a few days off until I was healthier.
Fast forward to today... where I decided I was healthy enough to hit the road.
Oh crap.
It's amazing how much I lost in a week. Also not idealy the week I lost was the one where mileage starts to pick up... urgh. I was biting it hard on an easy three mile run this morning and trying to swallow and choke back the last remnants of this cough/cold that tore me up. How frustrating! I feel like I have lost a lot of ground that I have to make up now... and I wasn't feeling all that confident about my running at this point anyway.
Plus also vacation+sick week+birthdays= I gained back all three of those pounds that I shed so slowly doing my running. So frustrating!
Z says I am at my wall... I just need to push through it... mentally and physically I need to get past this barrier that keeps me comfy only to about 3-4 miles. It's so hard and it sucks and I am tired of setbacks and excuses and I am trying to push through... but dang it, it sucks right now.

On being another year older, but maybe not wiser.

Twenty seven.
That's right, kids. We're in our late twenties-- wha-WHAT?
I am a huge fan of birthdays. I always have been. I have never been sad about getting older, and have never really understood why people get all worked up about birthdays... or their age... or whatever. Maybe I am not old enough yet, but I have always thought age was something to be celebrated, not mourned or ashamed of. Meh, I don't know.
I asked Z last friday (on his b-day) Do you feel like a 29 year old man? He just shrugged. Then said something to the effect of you are only as old as you decide to act... which I think is true and valid to some extent. We have a nice life, a social life, a busy life. We are active and try to stay healthy. We surround ourselves with lots of family and friends and try to balance everyday life with fun, spontaneous, or a little goofy occasions. I think some people would say that keeps us young-- others (probably other younger and unmarried) would say that makes us old.
But I only occasionally feel old.
I spent some time with my oldest best friend the other day. April and I have been friends for... 27 years. Yup, since the day I was born. We have met so many significant milestones together, school, college graduation, marriage, and even having kids. We were sitting on the floor with our kiddos playing together on my birthday, and we laughed at each other asking-- when did we get so old? When we are together it still feels like we are goofy little kids, it's so strange that we have goofy little kids now. :)
Being a mother has definitely made me feel older. I would like to say it has made me wiser as well... but I bet most parents would agree if there's one thing that parenting teaches you-- it's that you don't know crap. About anything.
We are learning. We learn all kinds of things every day, but the more we learn the more I am aware of the vastness of things I don't understand and maybe never will.
But maybe... that in itself is wisdom-- knowing that you don't know.
And probably having a healthy respect for what you don't know, and a good amount of grace for yourself at the same time.
We can't stop time, we can't stop aging... but we do have control over growth. I hope in this 27 year to keep growing. Keep moving, learning, growing, celebrating, and loving through all life brings to me.
Late twenties? Pshh. Bring it.

Happy Friday

Why is it happy you ask?

Because Daddy will be home.

All.

Weekend.

Cheers, Mama! You survived another week!