One year of blogging, thirty years of Butterfingers, and a Happy Halloween

Around this time last year, I sat down at the kitchen table one morning to a bagel and shmear for breakfast. I felt queasy and didn’t know why. Then the fog began to clear and I remembered there was a fun size Butterfinger sitting in my stomach. It was eight o’clock in the morning and I hadn’t had coffee. Did I really eat a Butterfinger for breakfast?

Oh yes, I did. You can read about it here.

It’s funny how one little incident can affect our lives. For me, that seemingly insignificant breakfast of Butterfingers ended up inspiring me to start a blog and become a more disciplined person.

So here I am one year later, blogging and eating Butterfingers (…and Snickers…and M&Ms). Isn’t life good?

In all seriousness, it has been a great year, and a challenging one. I can say that I did meet my goal of running a half marathon and am quite surprised and happy about that! However, I am still way behind in reading through the Bible by the end of the year. (Good thing there’s grace!).

And if you will let me get introspective for a minute, I think I have become a more disciplined person. Or at least proved to myself that I can set a goal and reach it. On the other hand, I think that through entering the blogging community I have been able to accept myself for who I am: a candy loving, Christ following, germophobic, clean freak, wife, and mother of two. I think I’ve learned there’s a lot of us out there. We’re all striving to be more, to do more…and to accept ourselves the way we are. It isn’t easy balancing those things all while raising kids and trying be a loving and supportive wife. So, thanks for taking the journey with me.

And in the newfound tradition of Halloween epiphanies, I have learned this year that my son doesn’t like Butterfingers. It pains me to share this with you, but it happened.

Before going to be tonight, I let them “trick-or-treat” out of our candy bowl since we didn’t get much candy at the Harvest Festival (not that they were complaining–I was). Anyway,  I said they could choose just one to eat before bed. Landon chose a Snickers and woofed it down. Jacob chose a Butterfinger. Wise choice, I thought. But then, after nibbling a few bites on it, he handed it back to me. Can this be my son? Good thing he likes candy corn, or I’d really be concerned.

On the bright side, I guess I don’t have to worry about him wanting to eat Butterfingers for breakfast.

On that note, Happy Halloween!

These are the days?

Do I see a push coming on?

I’ve had the relatively same experience a few times recently. It goes something like this:

Me out and about with my kids, usually holding one, chasing another. One might be crying, or screaming, or kicking; most definitely someone is running. I am probably trying to do something totally unreasonable like feed them a meal in public or run an errand to Staples. A kind middle-adged mother, whose kids are now starting college, looks at me and smiles. Then she says with empathy,

“I remember those days.”

I wasn’t sure what to think about these comments at first. Sure, she looks empathetic, but what is she really thinking? Is she wishing for “those days” again? (Impossible!) Is she so relieved that they are over? What prompted her to say that? (Oh yeah, the scene we are making.) What is she thinking about me? Is she judging my “motherhood” skills? Are my kids that out of control? Do I look that stressed? (I probably do.)

But after all the conjecturing and worrying about how this little statement might reflect on my capability as a mother, I’ve come to this conclusion:

How could you not remember these days?

I spend three quarters of my day chasing kids, making PBJs, wiping dirty body parts, picking up cars, puzzle pieces, books, zoo animals…you get the idea. My most used lines lately are: “If you don’t (obey mommy) on the count of three…,” “No hitting,” “No pushing,” “No tackling,” “If he’s crying that means he doesn’t like it,” “Now it’s Landon’s (Jacob’s) turn,” and others.

But then there are the good moments. The times when we snuggle up and “get cosy,” as Jacob says, and he “reads” a book to me. The times when Jacob actually does share, or he tries to boss Landon around by repeating my exact words. Or the times when Landon gives me the biggest smile, or wettest kiss, or says the absolute most polite “peeese” I’ve ever heard from a 17 month old.

These days may be a little sour at times, but they are also very sweet. And very, very memorable.

Someday, I am going to miss this face so much.

‘Bout time for an update

In case you were wondering, I did not go insane after the transcontinental plane ride with two toddlers. It happened a few weeks later.

I’m not even sure what to say other than my children are waking up at 5:30 a.m., I am exhausted, I have cried almost every day this week, I haven’t cleaned one single toilet, there is still a room completely full of boxes, and my floors look like …struggling for a simile here…well, they look like the floors of a family with two kids and a dog, crumby, muddy, sticky and hairy. And, I still have a gillion things on my to-do list like: make copies of keys, get our dog Abby washed (and oh yeah, registered), get a new driver’s license (mine’s been expired for months), return stupid thing that didn’t work to Wal-Mart, put batteries in the smoke detectors (don’t ask), clean toilets, call insurance, call our bank, make friends, find a church, and update blog. Shew, now I can check one thing off my list.

But today has been a good day. I am thankful. No tears, and no “feel like I’m going to lose my mind” moments. (I even have big plans of washing the floors before I go to bed tonight).

I should have known today was going to be different. I was greeted by a wet whopper of a kiss on the lips by Landon when I got him out of the crib this morning. I was totally taken aback and then totally smitten. I do have the best little guys. (And the cutest ones too, of course).

And in other good news…I did finish my half marathon race!  Three days after stepping off the plane, I put on my running shoes along with my husband and 3,500 others and ran 13.1 miles. (Note to self: never ever sign up for a race three days after a cross-country move. It was seriously stressful–what was I thinking?!).

getting ready to run…it was freezing!

Considering everything it went well, though I was mostly just relieved that it was over. I ran it in 2:18 and was pretty happy with my time.  I don’t know that I would quite describe myself as “hooked,” but I think there will be more half marathons in my future. A full marathon, you ask?  Highly unlikely. I cannot imagine running for twice as long as a few weeks ago! People are nuts!

Me and the boys before the race (obviously). Afterwards, I was laying stretched out in the grass.

I also wanted to say a big THANKS for cheering me on. Seriously, I would have been a lot less motivated to reach my goal had it not been for the simple fact that I shared it with you! And whether you know it or not, you held me accountable! Awww…group hug.

Now as for reading my Bible by December? I am embarrassingly far behind. Like still in the Old Testament reading about Judah and the prophets behind. Still hoping to catch up. I’ll keep you updated. I may need a Bible reading marathon. Do you think I could find someone to watch my kids so I could read my Bible for four hours straight? Hmm…I wonder how far I could get…

Welp, that’s all folks. Now I best go mop and clean some toilets.