So, I've Been Tagged

I hate Tag. Just so you know.

Speckblog tagged me to write 5 Things That Are Awesome About Me after doing so herself in this post.

So here goes:

1. I like that I have crazy monkey toes- not that they look like monkey toes (they don't), but the fact that I can pick stuff up with them off the floor. Evan can do it, too- ha! For example, if Evan takes his socks off, and I have an armful of other crap to put away, I can grab the socks with my toes, bring them up to my hands, and never miss a beat. Comes in handy when you have a full cup of coffee and you drop something, too. You never have to bend over. Of course, it only works when I am barefoot.

2. I like that if I put my mind to something, it happens. Everything I ever REALLY wanted, I have right now. Not many people can say that. I like to think that my uncanny ability to follow my heart got me right where I want to be in life.

3. I like that my eyes squint when I smile. My grandma's always did, and my dad's, and now my brother's and mine do, too. Evan's eyes get squinty, too. Yes, I'll get crow's feet, but that is so much better than frown lines that some people get, right?

4. I like that I'm not afraid to cry. Some people stop showing negative emotions around their kids, but I think it's a part of life. My mother never cried around us- I can only remember it once in my entire life! But Evan has seem me cry over real issues, like him punching me in the windpipe or my grandma dying, and he feels sad and sorry, and tells me "it's otay mommy. It's ahwight!" I'm not a cry baby, but I do think it's important that you cry when it's necessary. It's healthy, and I want Evan to learn that from me, instead of how I had to learn it.

5. I like that I am strong, both physically and mentally. I can take care of myself, can get shit done when it really counts, can get by without help if I have to, and can mow the lawn and weedwack and trim the hedges without waiting for my husband to do it. I also like that I'm learning to balance asking for help without feeling needy. But I really like that I can get shit done.

So, there you have it. And since I only read a handful of blogs, I am just going to tag Back To Me, because she could use this right now.

Such A Big Boy

It's been a monumental weekend around here, with two full days without diapers and ZERO accidents. Sunday was the start of "no diapers for big kids", inspired by Speckblog. We ditched the diapers and donned Cars undies, and began the chant, "Do you have to go potty?"

Evan gets a sticker on his potty chart for every time he tries to go potty. At the end of an entire row, he gets a prize. This chart has gathered dust until just this past week, where finally we are picking up speed. We even had an official poop on the potty both days, which is beyond exciting. What's more exciting is the light bulb going off in Evan's head. Thank God for that light bulb!

Last night, Evan got mad when I pulled out the pull-ups to go to bed. "No! I wear Unduhwewr! I uh Big Kid!" We explained the pee-pee while you sleep thing, and he begrudgingly accepted, but after I buy a waterproof mattress pad, he can wear underwear 24/7.

That's the other thing. Today we are going to buy him a full-size bed. A true "big kid" bed. His toddler bed has run out of room for his restless nights of toddler dreams, and by morning, he ends up with all of his blankets and pillows, sleeping soundly on the floor. It kills me. I have a sneaking suspicion that once he gets a solid night's sleep again, his terrorizing with fists will subside some. Maybe not, but I can hope, right?

It seems like just yesterday when I was peering down at his little infant self, bundled like a burrito in his blanket, in the middle of his crib, which seemed so huge and endless around his body. I remember thinking we should have bought a bassinet. Now we're shopping for a full size bed.

It goes so fast. It breaks my heart, but I'm so proud of him at the same time. Such a Big Boy.

P-P-Preschool!

Well, it's official. Evan will be entering Preschool on September 4th. My little boy is going to school.

After grilling neighbors for the best preschools in the area, it always came back to our park district being the best for 3 year olds. We could enroll him in a very expensive program a couple miles away where it's an accelerated program, but the kicker is- he already knows everything on the 3 year old curriculum. Since this is more a test of how he does with his peers, we're going for the fun park district program instead of bumping him up to the 4 year old program. If he's bored out of his gourd, we can change in 7 weeks. But he knows half the stuff on the 4 year old curriculum as well.

We celebrated by going to Kohl's and picking out his very own backpack, where he eagerly snatched up a cool Diego backpack, complete with wheels. After all, what is a backpack if it doesn't have wheels? Then we picked out new shoes, which I told him he needed for school, but really, that was only because his shoes are so tight, he trips every 5th step. Giving up the old shoes is always traumatic.

He happily put his new backpack and shoes up on the counter, and the girl asked him if this was for school. He thought for a second, smiled knowingly, and said condescendingly, "No! PWEE-school!" Duh. As if! Ah, my little smart-ass is growing up so fast!

Just Do It.

If I were a Nike Ad, my slogan would be "Maybe Tomorrow". Or possibly, "Later Will Be Here Soon Enough".

I am a procrastinator at heart, only throwing myself into things that I am fairly sure I'll be good at and that I will succeed in. Or that I will enjoy. Anything else, I put off until I don't have any more time to put it off to.

But, in an odd "I am my own destiny" sort of mode, I started running again. And damn, it's hard to run when you are fat. Thighs do not help you run gracefully when they squish against each other with each thud of your foot. My advice to those graduating from high school- never stop running. It sucks to learn how all over again. So don't stop.

I found a nice little marsh with a path by our new house, and it's quiet and nice, and lots of people run there. I tried running around the neighborhood, but I am too self-conscious in an area where everyone pays attention to their neighbors. I can imagine them smirking and saying "go, fat girl, go!" They probably aren't, but it doesn't help that my brain tells me they are.

The funny thing I always forget is how quickly your body adjusts to exercise. How after one time, I could not walk up or down stairs for 3 days, but just a week later, I am stiff only for a few minutes in the mornings. Makes me want to keep running- nah, not really.

But, I am going to. At least until its too damn cold to breathe comfortably, and then I'll try the treadmill, which I hate with a passion. Maybe I'll lose weight, maybe I won't. But I'd like to think I'm going to be one of those old folks who wears out, not rusts out. Better start now- well, maybe in a bit...

Like Strawberry Whine

Well, I did it. I turned the big 3-0. Just another day, another 24 hours, and it came and went, just like any old weekday.

I didn't have a break down, fall into a deep depression, or any stereotypical response to surviving in this world for another full decade- no, not me. I simply ran away. And it was great.

We drove 4 hours to Michigan to my Grandma's cottage, which is now my aunt's cottage, and spent 2 whole days just living. There are no phones, no cable, not even a VCR that works. You swim, you suntan, you go out on the lake in a slow-ass pontoon, and you grill. It's fabulous. There's no shower, no hot water, but thankfully, indoor plumbing. When my great-grandfather built that place by hand, he had enough common sense to install a toilet. Thank God.

Evan was thrilled. He's only been up there a few times, but to a three year old, the ability to throw rocks into a lake as long as he wants is equal to heaven. He sobbed hysterically when it was time to go, and asks frequently when we are going back. Soon. I can't wait.

The part about running away to the cottage is that it is a way of running backwards in time. There have been no major updates, no renovations, no keeping with the times. You walk into a wood-paneled, 4 room cabin where the kitchen still has an icebox, the family area still has a coffee table where the drawer is a hidden record player, and there is green and white formica tile throughout. The chairs are vinyl so you can use them in wet swimsuits, the windows have pins to keep them open. The original door still uses a skeleton key, which cannot be copied. You walk into a time warp, and you never want to leave when it is time to go.

We spent many weeks and weekends there growing up. You think about that a lot while you are shoving your 30-year old fat ass into a tankini, thinking how you wish your thighs didn't touch when you walked down to the beach. I used to skimp around in a 2 piece and thought I looked terrible- when I was 15. God, what I wish I knew then! So, I did a lot of fantasizing about being a smidge thinner by the time I came back in addition to reminiscing about all the fun we had growing up there.

I have to admit that I only became Misty-eyed once, while driving alone to the store in the beautiful woods of Michigan, while listening, of course, to country. The song that came on was a favorite in college, when I was head over heels in love, passionate about just about everything in life, thin, adorable, and energetic. The song hit me hard- I will never be "young" again. So I sang loudly, got a little choked up, and then went on enjoying my weekend and looking forward to what the next decade brings me.

So, I leave you with the lyrics to Deana Carter's "Strawberry Wine".

He was working through college on my grandpa's farm
I was thirsting for for knowledge and he had a car
I was caught somewhere between a woman and a child
When one restless summer we found love growing wild
On the banks of the river on a well beaten path
Funny how those memories they last

Like strawberry wine and seventeen
The hot July moon saw everything
My first taste of love oh bittersweet
Green on the vine
Like strawberry wine

I still remember when thirty was old
My biggest fear was September when he had to go
A few cards and letters and one long distance call
We drifted away like the leaves in the fall
But year after year I come back to this place
Just to remember the taste

Of strawberry wine and seventeen
The hot July moon saw everything
My first taste of love oh bittersweet
Green on the vine
Like strawberry wine

The fields have grown over now
Years since they've seen a plow
There's nothing time hasn't touched
Is it really him or the loss of my innocence
I've been missing so much

Like strawberry wine and seventeen
The hot July moon saw everything
My first taste of love oh bittersweet
Green on the vine
Like strawberry wine

Things I Didn't Have to See Before 8am.

1. A Dead Bunny. In my yard. That my dogs chased down. Damn chain link fence.

2. A Dead Bunny in a Box that I had to pick up after it's poor little heart stopped.

3. A Dead Bunny in a box being flung into a local business' dumpster so the little kids around here wouldn't come across it.

4. Driving home from Dead Bunny Disposal, a Woman, probably in her 50's, walking outside to get the paper in nothing but a skimpy nightie and high heels. Cellulite does not age well, lady. Cover that junk up. I don't show you mine, you don't show me yours.

5. Giant Thunder clouds rolling in.

6. An empty coffee creamer bottle in my fridge.

Can I start today over?