Going Going GONE

Well, I did it.

I moved my website and changed the name.

I know!  This is a pain in your patootie.  You'll have to update your bookmarks and RSS feeds. 

I'M SORRY!

But do it, because just THINK of the poop stories you'll miss if you lose track of me! I know! It would be tragic.

Here's my new address:  Can't wait to see you on the flip side.

www.motherhoodismycardio.com

Play Like a Champion Today

Hello there, my Internet friends.  How have you been?

I've been writing blog posts in my head for almost a week now.  Which, doesn't really help YOU much, as you cannot visit the inside of my head and read them.  And now that I come to think of it, you should be thankful you cannot visit the inside of my head, because IT'S MESSY IN THERE. 

Today was our first "home day" of the year.  My kid goes to Regular School with Regular Kids doing Regular Things on Mondays and Wednesday's.  On Tuesday and Thursday he's home with me doing a pseudo-homeschooling thing.  It's an extraordinary school, based on an extraordinary idea, and I'm so grateful to be a *part* of my kids education, without actually having to do it all. 

So I'm grateful, yes, but I'm also daunted.  I'm working now, and my role at my job has expanded to include marketing which means MORE hours and MORE responsibility.  Yay! And also WHOA!  Because I find myself trying to homeschool AND work and maintain some semblance of household order (the laundry! SAVE ME FROM THE LAUNDRY!). 

Oh, and I'm also the homeroom mom.  I KNOW! What is wrong with me?

But you know what?  I'm totally doing it!  Not perfectly.  Sometimes not even well.  But I'm doing it.  So far, I've managed NOT to get fired, and all indications are that my kids are happy and they still like me.  So, um, GO ME!

Sometimes, I just wish that - at the end of the day - I could run down a tunnel and give everybody a high-five.  You know how they do at the beginning of a football game?  Where the players run out onto the field to roars of applause?  That.  I want to do THAT at the end of a day like today.  I need a line of high-fivers and some applause.

Someone get me a tunnel. 

Wait a 2nd!

Will started second grade on Wednesday.   I was surprisingly nonchalant about it.  This is the first year I've felt just fine about the passage of time and my kid getting older.  No wistful notions of his childhood slipping through my fingers.

Tralala.

And then I made the mistake of sending this photo to my mother:

1st day of 2nd grade

She called me when she received it.  Shenexclaimed "His head is almost up to your shoulder!".  And then she cried. 

WHAT?  I looked again and sure enough.  His head is almost at my shoulder.

MAH BAYBEE!!

Someone get me a tissue. *sob*

Runners are STILL Stupid and Dumb

"oh what a beautiful mooooooorning"

Ok, listen, I wrote a while back about how I thought runners were stupid and dumb.  WHICH THEY ARE.  Why would you intentionally RUN and SWEAT and GET OFF THE COUCH if you didn't have to? 

And yet.

I started running right after my birthday in July.  Then Susan somehow (through voodoo magic, I think) talked me into running IN A RACE at the end of September.  Which was EVIL and also brilliant because now I can't QUIT, because then I would look STUPID at the race.

Well played, Susan.  Well played.

And here's what's happened: Sometimes? (just sometimes, mind you) I actually LOOK FORWARD to my run. Which is UTTERLY INSANE.  Because I have to 1) set my alarm and get out of my warm ,soft bed 2) wear clothes that make me look dumb 3) sweat and 4) ache for the rest of the day.  Why would I look forward to that?  WHY?

I have no answer.  No idea.

I *do* enjoy seeing the sunrise.  That's nice.  But I could do *that* while sitting on my patio drinking my coffee.  Under a blanket.  With my feet up. 

And I really love seeing all of the little animals in my neighborhood.  We live on a golf course, so there are zillions of bunnies, and ducks, and I saw a fox once.  But honestly, I could google "bunnies/foxes/ducks" and get all the youtube videos I could stand FROM MY BED.

So what I'm trying to say is: I have, PURELY BY ACCIDENT, started to SOMETIMES enjoy running.  And I don't know why.

What's happening to me? Help!

Behold! The LAMINATOR!

My boy goes to a weird school.  One that only meets on Mondays and Wednesdays.  The other days he's home with me doing assignments.  I don't "teach" so much as I "encourage" (some would call it "nag", others would say "threaten-with-bodily-harm". Ahem.).  Part of doing school this way involves using flashcards.  Lots and lots of flashcards.  And the school gently suggests that these cards be laminated.  And all this laminating must be done before school begins.

No problem!  I know my way to Kinkos.  I can laminate with the best of 'um!

Except that, did you know that laminating is outrageously expensive?  Like, I could have covered these flashcards IN ACTUAL GOLD and spent less money.

So after last year (where I sold a kidney to pay for laminating), I decided to wise-up and BUY MY VERY OWN LAMINATOR.  Yes.  You heard me.  I own a laminator.  What's next?  My own cotton-gin? Perhaps my own butter churn?

But Hey! Need a fake ID?  I'm your girl! (Most of my friends would be faking an ID to make themselves YOUNGER).

I figure, at this rate, I'm only a few steps away from those homeschooling moms who wear floor-length denim jumpers!  Move over Duggers, there's a new mom in town!

(What? You KNOW Michelle Duggar TOTALLY has her own laminator.)

A Backpack Can Break Your Heart.

he holds her hand in the parking lot.  could you not die?

Yesterday Paige started back to Mother's Day Out.  She's been going only on Monday's during the Summer months, but the facility takes a 2 week break at the beginning of every August (presumably so that the teachers can talk to other adults, sleep, and drink lots of alcohol).  So, we've had a LOT of togetherness at my house for the last two weeks what with NO CHILDCARE and all. (Yeesh).

When we arrived at Paige's "school" that morning, we were greeted with the usual pandemonium that accompanies the first day - weepy toddlers being consoled by cheerful teachers, and raucous kids exploring their new classrooms full of toys.  Paige's teacher (the same one we've had for months) saw us coming down the hall and declared that Paige had been moved up to Miss Kelly's class.

Miss Kelly?

Wait.  That can't be right.  Miss Kelly is the teacher for big kids.  She's the last teacher you get at Mother's Day Out.  After Miss Kelly, you're DONE.  Out.  Your kid is big enough for "real school". 

Oh my goodness.  PAIGE IS A BIG KID.  I have no idea how this happened.

When I came back at the end of the day, Paige was overjoyed about her new classroom... which is set up much more school-like.  With desks and chairs and real-live learning-type activities.   She squealed when she saw me and exclaimed "I HAVE TO HAVE A BACKPACK MISS KELLY SAYS SO!".  She also requires Big Kid School Supplies (no juice and Goldfish crackers? Wha?).

So we went straight to Target and picked out a Big Kid Backpack (and a matching folder for her "work").  When she spied the one she wanted, Paige pulled it off the rack, put it on her back, and wore it for the remainder of the time we were shopping. 

Then she wore it to the car.

Then she wore it around the house.

Then she put it on to show Susan (who came over specifically to see The Backpack - God bless her.).

Most days my kids grow up right in front of me and I don't notice.  A million tiny steps away from me and toward adulthood.  Today felt like a leap.  All because of a purple backpack.

A Horse of a Different Color

I took the kids to the zoo last week.  My momma bought us a year-long zoo pass, which means we can visit anytime we want for FREE!  Woot!

We saw the usual things.  The shiny pygmy hippo with his bristly tail.  The lions - who also gaze at my children like they would make a delicious mid-morning snack.

And then we usually visit the birds.  Little tropical birds who land on your arms and head and twitter madly.  It's lovely.

Until they bite the HECK out of you, making you BLEED. 

Then you want to wring all those birdies necks and roast them up with a nice garlic sauce.

Stupid birds.

But the best thing we saw at the zoo? 

The dude cleaning the inside of the gigantic fish tank.