How We Road Trip

With 3 "littles" the packing and prepping for a road trip, even just overnight, is a longer process than the actual trip lasts.  I find myself preparing for the preparation to leave.  It's a process, for sure.  An organized chaos, if you will.

Here's a quick list of what goes through my mind when I am preparing for us to leave.
1)  Crap!  Now I have to do the laundry, and actually fold it.  Can't live out of the laundry basket on the road.  (although it's crossed my mind a few times)

2) I suppose while I'm at the laundry I should throw in some towels..and that reminds me I should probably wash the pee-pee covered sheets I threw 2 towels over in the middle of the night after a 3 a.m.wake-up call to this occurrence and my sleep-deprived quick-fix. 

3) Now to the electronics.  Where are all the freakin' cords to charge them all?  And which cords go to which electronic device.  IPads, LeapPads, iPods, Kindle, DVD Player...cell phones...

4) Which leads to headphones...I can only take so much "Call Me Maybe" and "Let it Go" played out loud...let alone the off-key, not realizing how loud you are singing chords ripping through to the front seat from way in the back.  So headphones for everyone.  Problem solved.  Sometimes even headphones, used as ear plugs for mom and dad, when the DVD players, books, snacks, toys, and IPads wear off the last 30 minutes of the trip and screaming and crying ensues...

5)  Snacks.  My bottomless pits. NEED. snacks.  But I have to put some thought into this after previous mishaps with snacks.  No suckers.  Blake hates suckers. Last time we tried a sucker in the van...he threw it over my seat and it stuck in my hair.  Talk about a ratty, sticky, ANGRY mess...also, no chocolate.  Autum likes to savor her chocolate.  From her chocolate beard, dripping down her chin to the last melted drop running down the side of the booster seat and chair, all the way to the floor-in a nice stained mess.  No nuts, chex mix, sweet and salty, seasoned anything...because that smell is enough to make me puke and dust every inch of my van and myself in seasoning powder.  Nothing like showing up to your destination smelling like the "Salt and Vinegar and Black Pepper family." So bland, no sticky, melting, smelly food.  Cheerios.  Popcorn.  Tortilla chips.  Apple slices. Things I can sweep up off the floor no matter how crunched into the carpet it gets.  Those kind.

6)  With the snacks, comes wet wipes.  Trash bags.  One for trash.  One for puke.  Because I have been known to need a puke sack after turning around in my seat 6, 578 times to settle fights, pick up dropped snacks, type in 400 parental control passwords, change DVD players, refill water cups, sniff bottoms to see who pooped or peed or just a stray gas bubble.  Or just give a simple "COME TO JESUS MEETING" about zipping our lips and simply asking why no one can simply go to sleep...seriously, why do my kids NOT sleep in the car???

7)  Then pack bags.  I have learned to do a bag check after I've already packed the bags.  Sometimes even twice.  After getting to grandmas and Leah forgetting to pack her panties.  Or getting to a motel and Autum decided to unpack her bag and redo it herself, only packing 3 pairs of panties and 4 dollies...nothing else.  I have made it a habit to pack the bags, zip them up, and place them in a high place until we leave.  And rechecking them before we load the van, just one more time.

8) Then drinks.  Sippy cups all around.  I don't care if you are almost 9....you will drink out of a non-spillable cup with a lid.  No one will know you are using a baby cup.  It will last longer because you will have to slurp it, so be glad you have something to drink and stop complaining.  I promise I won't post any pics of you slurping your sippy cup of water.  No milk, don't even ask.  No. No. No.  We all know the stench of those cups found a week later under a seat.  Bleh.

9) And for some reason I always pack a book for myself, or a magazine.  To which never gets touched.  Usually just spilled on or a few pages of it are used for toilet paper during an emergency roadside stop to poop.  Hey! Better than giving up my sock.  Just saying. 
I feel like I pack it as a hope...a glimmering hope that someday my kids will entertain themselves or sleep, or be able to type in their own parental control passwords (ha!) so I can read in peace...and not have to sacrifice page 19 for emergency situations.

...so anyway, just a few thoughts on this beautiful thing we call vacation...

So many Lose 10 lb. Journeys

I was looking for something else and became distracted upon finding a journal I spent some time writing in during college.  I had been married 7 months. I was 22 years old.  And I was training for a half-marathon in April in Oklahoma City. I scrolled down through my food log for that particular day...

Jan 5, 2005
1 glass OJ
1 c. oatmeal
1 frosted cookie
1/2 c. peaches
1 1/2 c. whole wheat spaghetti
1 c. tomato sauce
1 cheesy breadstick
3 Nutter Butter's
4 slices cheese
4 whole wheat crackers
1/2 can Dr. Pepper
1 c. Stroganoff
1/2 slice Cinnamon Dessert

Arm/Back Day
Cardio Rest Day

My first thoughts were:
1. Man I had a lot of time back then...if only I had known.

2. How did I remember what all I ate?  I can't even tell you what I snacked on an hour ago.  (I guess I should note #1)

3. Starches. Starches. Starches.  This was before Paleo was all the craze.  And I realized I had some allergies to wheat.

4. Dr Pepper? Haha. That was definitely a habit I started from my new hubby!  That was never an option growing up at home.  Diet pop was the "healthier choice" and growing up in an aerobics instructor's house...you always went the healthy route. *note sarcasm

I read on down and found this excerpt..."This is the first day I will begin my journey toward losing 10 lbs. and training for a Half Marathon April 29th.  (I can't tell you how many 10 lb. journeys I have been on since then!!)  Then I nearly died when I saw this:
Current weight: 134 lbs.
Waist: 26"
Hips: 36 1/2"

WHAAAA??  134 lbs.?!! I didn't think I had weighed that since 8th grade.  Seriously.  And I was on a journey to lose 10 more...whoa.
I sat back and began to think back through my athletic life.  And I could almost name what my scale weight was around any significant physical endeavor I was pursuing.

Senior year...college softball recruiting camps....127#  (I was told several times I was too thin)
Wedding...June 2004....128#
Half-Marathon-April 29, 2005 (dropped 5 lbs.--129#)
9 months pregnant with Leah... May 2006....153#
1st Marathon--Leah was 2 years old...130#
Triathlons...Summer 2009...135#
Started doing CrossFit 2009ish...135#

And from then on....I could not tell you what I weighed.  Maybe when I had Autum I was about 165#....

I realized several things at that point.  One, how sad it is to realize that the scale dictated me.  And my life.  How could I remember so specifically my weights from so long ago?  Well, because it was clearly very important to me.   It was a center focus.

And now I am faced with the question of:  was it what drove me?  Did I just mask my obsession with being "fit" and "skinny" with a determination to compete in sports and races?  Deep down...did I really care how I competed or placed...so long as I hit my goal weight and used training as a motivator to get there...?  (not saying that is wrong...yet)

I sat quietly awhile. Contemplating this.
Lifting weights and doing CrossFit and training with other people was a huge turning point in my obsession with the scale.  And I didn't even realize it til now.  I could probably tell you more closely what my  strength maxes were on certain lifts more than what I weighed the past 4 years.

But to dig down, what was the power the scale number had over me?  Why did it mean so much?  What bigger issue did I have at hand?  Lack of self-esteem?  Body disorder?  Need to please?  Pride in my appearance?  Or just lack of anything else to focus on and control?  Passion for fitness?  Need to uphold an image?

Probably all of the above.
That IS. ANNOYING. to me.  Now.

Huh.  Moving on.

All I know is I'm so grateful for the opportunity to change.  For a chance to face this 'skinny' stigma head on with my girl's.  To have experienced it and hopefully be able to empathize better.  To have shaken off that "chain." For strength.  For feeling strong.  For health. 


And to honestly not have that much time on my hands to obsess about a scale number.  Ha!  Because now I obsess over things like how to get that carrot chunk out of my child's nose.  Or how to get your oldest to wear deodorant-because who cares if your armpits stink.

And on...and on.



 

Poopy Easter

Daddy's morning pic of the day!  Super Duper!

This was an IG post I made. Blake was signing "poop" while we were trapped in the Walmart line...forEVER.

Playdate at the park.  Skipping rocks.

The boys.

Fishing derby with Papa.

One product from the fishing derby at Papa's.

Leah helping out a tired Easter egg hunter.

Great Grandmas analyzing the egg hunt.

Blake had more fun washing his eggs and rocks than hunting them.

Prepping.  But nervous. She was a trooper.

Big Sister got new earrings.

Great Grandma and Baby

My sweet sis and hubby, and of course Baby Luke.

My personal fav.

Leah's tense pose.

...and Blake's done.  Out.

Leah's, "I'm done with this" smile.

Annnnd. Blake's sleeping.

I cried a lot yesterday.

First because of my overwhelming sense of thankfulness and joy that seemed to be spilling out from my soul during church yesterday.  The tears streaming down my face were from down deep, as if they had been sitting there awhile...stagnant.  Just waiting for me to release them...as if being cleansed.  And as they dropped down my cheeks onto my arms, I felt lighter and lighter.  Like I couldn't stand tall enough in my church pew...I felt light.  Airy.  Supernatural.

Easter.  He is risen.  I am free.
I posted on IG yesterday...https://instagram.com/p/1GccbzDipz/?taken-by=awhomegym

"Let me tell you..I stood in church this morning. Tears running down my face. I couldn't stand tall enough or reach high enough in my chair. Today I stood among rapists, adulterers, thiefs, addicts, cussers, gossipers, speed limit breakers, name-callers...all over the world. And praised #God. I am redeemed! I am no better or no worse than anyone else because I was condemned with my first sin. But not any longer. Not because of today. #Easter. I am #cleansed. #Forgiven. #Loved. And given life."
#HALLELUJAH #HeisLord #yearofthanks #praisegod #fitfam #christianathlete #homeonksrange #homegym #fitspiration #praise #easter

Then, we had to run to Walmart to get Jerad some shaving cream.  As we pulled into the parking lot a homeless man with a sign was sitting on the curb...with, most likely, his own friend, his dog.  And I drove past, said a prayer for him, and read his sign: "Please help. Need sleeping bag. Dog food. Hungry."

And my heart was moved again.  I felt lead to help him.  And was nearly brought to tears again when my first thought was affirmed...because both girls said "Mom, we need to help him.  Pleeeeease."

So we headed into Walmart and we got him what he needed.  And then they decided to get him some bread. Lunch meat. A jug of water. Some snacks.  Some bananas.  And my heart was again, overwhelmed.  Tears. More tears.  At my children's gentle prompting to help.  And their willingness to follow suit, in their innocence.  No judgment.  (as I fought back the nay-sayers in my head saying "tell him to get a job. Help himself.  His dog isn't important.  Why waste food on his animal when he needs food?  Someone else can help him...")

We walked back out and gave him his goods.  Pet his dog.  Talked to him awhile.  Looked into his eyes.  And we prayed for him as we left.

And then we got home.  Found out we had a house showing.  I was single-momming it today.  And already emotionally drained.  But we pushed onward.  Cleaned our house.  Got it all squeaky clean and headed outside to play.  I realized after awhile that one child didn't follow us outside.  So I went to check,, assuming he was watching his cartoons or playing with his toys.  I hear him in the bathroom and the panic sets in.  I could smell it before I saw it.  And I hit my knees when I saw the bathroom.  Mess. Everywhere. Him. Floor. Floormats. Wall.  Toilet.  Shoes. Socks.  Trashcan.  

And again, the tears hit.  I threw the mats in the laundry. Scrubbed the walls, floor, toilet. Threw my child in the shower.  Prayed for God's strength.  Knowing He saw me.  Knew my efforts.  Tried to cool down.  I already lost my cool on the girls for no reason, while caught up in the moment, and their ill-timed demands and questions bubbled me over the brim. 

Headed back outside hoping the floor mats would be clean and dried by the time of the showing.  And lit a candle.  Hoping to mask the smell.

I did some of my workout to try to diffuse.  While the kids played.  The laundry finished and I got it all back in place.  Done. And thankful for the time to clean it all up.

Not long after, Leah comes in the garage to tell me her brother stinks again.  No...No....No...No....

Seriously, no.  

I walk up to him and he breaks into tears grabbing his behind, knowing he made another mistake.  Why? WHY?  We haven't had this many accidents in 3 days than we have in the past 3 months.  WHAT IS GOING ON?  I checked his pants to confirm my suspicions.  Sure enough. Everywhere.  All over.  Deeming another bath.  

I took him downstairs to get him a quick shower.  As I'm undressing him...on the freshly cleaned floor mats...he begins to go AGAIN.  All over.  AGAIN.  Now with only 30 minutes to show time.

I tear up.  Again.  I drop to the floor.  And just sit.  Sit and cry.  Again.

I am done.  I can't take anymore.  Worn down. Finished.  Exhausted.

I have lost all my patience.  I am literally sitting in poop.  Crying.  How much worse can it get?  Right.

I eventually get it together.  Clean Blake in the shower again.  Tidy up the bathroom as best as I can.  And we leave.  I say a quick prayer for supernatural favor over the house.  For God's renewed strength because I am weak.  Worn.  Weary.

I am happy to say the rest of the day improved.  I am here today, to tell the story.  But wow.  What a day.

I will say this.  We had a wonderful Saturday.  Shown by the pictures posted.

If you only knew the task it was to get this picture.  With a timer.  The first few pics were a blur of me trying to run to the bench from the camera.  The others were when a gust of wind blew and the girl's and I's hair covered our faces.  One was Blake trying to crawl down to the ground.  I think I did about 10-15 sprints in sandals for this one shot.  1 shot.  Worth it though.  (only missing daddy)

And Autum is distracted.

 

Little Miss Says

So because Autum is my only child still at home most of the time, she and I have lots of time to talk.
She has been cracking me up lately with her little speeches, her finger pointing points of concern, and her old soul wisdom.  She is quite the little "mama" and her sweet soul keeps Blake nurtured, her big sister on her toes, and everyone caught up on hugs and kisses.

Yesterday I was working out in the garage and she was swinging around behind me on the rings just jabbering away.  I finished a weight lifting circuit including push press, ball slams, and kettlebell swings for time.  I am not thinking she is paying attention to me at all, until I am finished and I'm wiping the sweat off my face.  She comes over and points her little finger at me and says, "you didn't lift heavy enough weights!!"
I ask why. And she says, "because you didn't make that face like you do when you are pooping...you know that one where you scrunch up your cheeks and make noises...?"
Ok, you mean "a pain face?"
"Nope...your poop face!"

Ok then.

Moving onto later in the day, we jog to school in the stroller.  We are running behind and it's a little windy...it's Kansas, you know.  Right after we leave she says she needs a Kleenex, her nose is running. Well, we are already halfway to the school.  So I say to use her sleeve (yes this is my 3rd child)...well, Little Miss Queenie doesn't like that idea and resolves to use toilet paper at the school.  We pull up in front of the school and she says, "Geez, mom! Now I will have to ask for a wet wipe...you ran so fast the boogers are dried up on my face--no Kleenex is going to get that off!"

Ok...

And today...I pick her up from preschool-a little late by her standards.  I decided to get a quick swim and track workout in before I pick her up and after my morning workout session with my clients.  So I literally run off the track all sweaty, run to my van, drive to pick her up...still out of breath.  I walk in and she marches over, gives me this look.  I assume it's because I am late.  I say I'm sorry, and she says, "No...it's not that, I'll tell you when we get outside." 
We walk out the doors and she says, "I am trying to be polite. But you STINK!  You stunk up my preschool classroom! Next time would you mind taking a shower before you come get me?  Bleh."

Haha...good to know. Sorry, sister.  Shower it is.