dead bolts

okay, so while i really thought id be blogging more, i now realize this goal can go ahead and join the ranks of wanting to run more and eat less cheese. clearly, i am incapable of making the time to get this done. the truth is, for the most part, my time is not my own. and before you assume im singing the 'whoa es me' mantra of a stay at home mama, let me assure you, i am living my dream and would not wish to have any other precious time thieves than the two little ones i have. and with the lumpy one in preschool two days a week this year, i have revisited the art of long lunches with friends with uninterrupted conversation free of baby wipe napkins and the responsibility of cutting up someones meal. it has been altogether fabulous. however, there are still a number of things i like to do while at home that dont include wiping noses and playing cars, dolls, trains, kitchen, doll house, etc...(this list could go on for pages...thank you, God, for imaginative children....most days).

there are really only two things i totally took for granted before having children...ie, i didnt see these entering the realm of extinction in my life as clearly as i anticipated less sleep and baby weight. they are:: phone time and shower time. who knew? apparently, along with sleep and an ideal weight, my ability to maintain a distraction free conversation on the phone as well as my ability to shower without the constant litany of questions from the other side of the door have vanished. gone. it never fails, the little people are happily playing together, practically reciting scripture in the corner until the phone rings at which time they come unglued. they instantly have 146 ailments, injuries, needs, complaints, questions, arguments, disasters and messes and complete chaos ensues within minutes. my own mom listened to my disbelief at this phenomenon, sympathetically enthralled in my predicament and offered this when i finished, 'at least you can walk away. when you were little, i was tied to the phone by one of those cords, unable to escape the kitchen.' it was at this time i realized how obvious the solution was, i am the adult. i own a cordless phone. i have a bedroom. with a lock on the door.

my plan was hatched. the next phone call i wanted to or needed to take, i was taking, undeterred by the mass chaos that ensued around me. after all, i would just retreat to my bedroom, lock the door and let my responsible 2 and 4 year old work it out, lord of the flies style. maybe santa will bring them a conch for such times as these...either way, im out. when the phone rang and it was a friend i had wanted to chat with, i tiptoed upstairs and locked my door. i experienced almost three minutes of conversation before those people picked up my trail and ended up at my door. i calmly explained id be out in a few minutes and would be happy to hook them up with whatever they needed at that time. i continued to talk while the sound of two whiny voices and 4 little hands pounded on and knocked on the door. it was a mild distraction and i was committed to my plan of just a few minutes on the phone. a moment later, it was silent and i smiled, savoring my small victory, realizing i had taught them a valuable lesson of not interrupting and learning how to entertain themselves for a few minutes. the silence lasted less than a minute and i heard a slight scratching sound coming from the other side of the door. how clever, theyve decided to play kitty or doggie and are pretending to try and get in.

i hadnt even completed the thought when the door opened and standing there with a plastic sword is bonnie and clyde. after immediately hanging up and accepting defeat, this conversation ensued::

me:: um, georgia, what are you doing?

georgia:: i picked the lock with jacks sword.

me:: you did?? how in the world did you do that?

georgia:: i just put it in the knob and turned it the other way to the unlock. it wasnt even tricky. i did it last week when i accidentally locked jack in his room. i can show you how if you want.

me:: no thanks, geogia, i think i can figure it out on my own.

im not sure what to do with this one other than realize that children have been crashing phone conversations since the beginning of phone time and i am no better, smarter or more creative than any other mom with kids before me. im considering a deadbolt, but feel that if i raise the challenge ill simply find myself with a 4 year old who will inevitably take the opportunity to hone her power drill skills. good times.

two words

its amazing how little blog time my double fly little guy, jdub, really gets. its not his fault, its mine. im busy and short on time and im depositing a few extra bucks into his therapy fund just in case (who am i kidding) he needs it later to help him process the second child syndrome. recently, i took him to his first well baby appointment. i know hes two, 30 lbs and a lumpy little man child now, but one of the most illogical ideas ever invented was the well baby visit. where you bring a WELL (not sick) child to a place where SICK children are. cr hay zeeee. ive been told by my sis in law there is apparently an office in a far off land called dallas, that keeps the two areas separate for the protection of the well people...i imagine it smells like cupcakes and serves coffee, but here, in a land called northern virginia, you wait like sneezing, coughing cattle and it smells like bad hand sanitizer. and since i dont immunize my little people until they are about two (yes, im that super weird person you judge) i dont have any reason to take them when they are well. however, as many of you with little people can imagine, im at the drs office fairly regularly for a litany of other little people illnesses like ear infections, sinus infections and strange coughs from unknown origins. so, before i start receiving hate mail about not getting my kids seen, they are seen. regularly. when they are fresh out of being well.

of course this shifts around age two when i do start taking them in for a yearly physical and occasional shot. last week began that stage for jack. he is now officially two and has perfected his own original versions of several songs although his favorite is still 'happy birthday' which he sings at the top of his lungs to his own enthusiastic applause and then asks for cake. everyday. love that kid. so last week i had both kids with me at the drs office where i packed enough crap for them to eat, break and play with in hopes of keeping them from touching all the surfaces that countless sick kids have licked and touched throughout the day. somehow, in the midst of my 60 lbs of gear, i forgot to pack diapers and while jdub has now told several people a very convincing tale that he is in fact potty training, he is in fact just lying...and pooping on himself.

so, nurse so and so asks me to strip him down to get a good weight check on him and goes as far as trying to extract the two raisins in his fist for a more accurate reading. seriously? i dare you to try and pry those nasty dried morsels of goodness from his fists. you like failure? keep trying. after a few attempts, she gave up and i put his diaper back on him while the nurse put us in our place. the waiting place. where you wait and wait and wait and wonder why you ever thought you needed this particular appointment in the first place. the doctor eventually came in and followed the script of questions about jdubs development. it went like this::

is he walking? yes, around the room right now actually.

can he jump on one foot? um, we dont typically do that at home, but given the right incentive or lack of leg, im sure he could.

does he build blocks? yes. and then he knocks them over and claps...are these real questions?

does he point? no.

how does he show you what he wants? he asks for it.

about this time, gk interrupts the interview with, 'mom, jack stinks really bad.' the dr, not deterred by the interruption continues, does he talk? yes.

does he put two words together? yes. its at this moment that jdub stops playing with cars and says with clarity and conviction, 'huge poop'.

'huge poop, mama, huge poop'. ahhhhhsome, since im fresh out of diapers. and so ended our interview. done and done. the dr left the room, i pillaged the cabinets id spent the waiting time telling the kids to not touch and swiped a newborn diaper off the top shelf for my 30 lb baby. perfect. so the lump walks and talks and poops just like every other well baby and hes not afraid to describe it in detail. good to know.

nice to meet you.

so here i am after a fairly long hiatus during which i havent necessarily taken a break from rambling, just a break from sharing. mostly because up until recently, this place where i share my everydays has always been a horribly selfishly motivated endeavor. i get to purge or unpack the details of my life in the most therapeutic of ways and at the same time journal my experiences to look back on from time to time (it slightly eases the guilt of not baby booking for my little people). the truth is, however, that while i try to be honest and transparent, authentic and sincere, there are simply pieces and parts of me i am unwilling to part with and put out there for all to see. and perhaps judge. and unfortunately, those parts have become all consuming over the past five months.

its the craziest thing (unnerving at best) to see the starkest of contrasts between who you think you are and who you really are. your tragedy, your loss, your shittiest of circumstances only reinforces who i think i am...someone who sincerely empathizes with you, grieves with you, prays for you and begs on your behalf. but, my tragedy, my loss, my shitty circumstance has introduced me to who i really am. and, while you may know me well or not know me at all, i promise you; this me, in the midst of unfathomable pain, is someone i am still getting to know and up until now im not sure i wanted you to meet.

five months and 7 days ago, my dad had a stroke. the strongest, bravest and greatest man i know was robbed of so much, but while he has fought to regain all that was taken from him, not a day has passed that i havent thanked God for leaving him here. time, i now see in the clearest of ways, is truly the most precious of gifts and i treasure the extra time God has so generously given us with him. in the days following his stroke, we all prayed, shaken but steadfast in our resolve and in our faith, full of gratitude and thanks. within days of his release home, my mother, the kindest, most generous, and easily my most treasured friend was diagnosed with a recurrence of the breast cancer that she had battled and defeated 15 years ago. it was on this day, the day of her diagnosis while still reeling from my dads stroke that i met me. the me who was not shaken, but broken. who was not faith filled, but fear filled. who was not hopeful, but angry. enraged, really. drunk on my own cocktail of rage and grief and disbelief.

and i wrote then like i write now, but to share the thoughts from those early days, to even read them now brings me face to face with someone i didnt know existed. someone incredibly lost and clinging to hope with white knuckles and weakest of grips, begging God for His mercy and divine intervention. what i thought to be true about many things shifted and gave way beneath me, but what i knew to be true has remained a steadfast foundation, sometimes that i stand on and sometimes that i cant get up from. what i know is this:: God is the same. today. as He was before my hero's stroke and my best friends cancer. He is the same. today. before pain and grief, shock and fear. before worry and sadness, doubts and disbelief. and He will be the same tomorrow. regardless of the magnitude of the situation, He is never changing. He will show up as He has faithfully done amid every moment of joy He has generously given and every tear He has wept with me. He is capable and in control, kind and in love with my parents, almighty, powerful, merciful. He has not been surprised by any of this and is holding us close while the storms of adversity rage around us just as He held us while we were drowning in a sea of joyous blessings. just putting that in size 12 font fills me with the peace and comfort so many of you have prayed for.

i am me. i am checking in, getting to know myself and letting the rest of you in on the me ididnt know was there. i am okay. and while i am a version of myself i didnt know before 5 excruciatingly long and short months ago, the more i get to know the real me, the one He has created me to be, the more intimately i am getting to know Him, the One capable of carrying all of us through this season.

nice to meet you.

so here i am after a fairly long hiatus during which i havent necessarily taken a break from rambling, just a break from sharing. mostly because up until recently, this place where i share my everydays has always been a horribly selfishly motivated endeavor. i get to purge or unpack the details of my life in the most therapeutic of ways and at the same time journal my experiences to look back on from time to time (it slightly eases the guilt of not baby booking for my little people). the truth is, however, that while i try to be honest and transparent, authentic and sincere, there are simply pieces and parts of me i am unwilling to part with and put out there for all to see. and perhaps judge. and unfortunately, those parts have become all consuming over the past five months.

its the craziest thing (unnerving at best) to see the starkest of contrasts between who you think you are and who you really are. your tragedy, your loss, your shittiest of circumstances only reinforces who i think i am...someone who sincerely empathizes with you, grieves with you, prays for you and begs on your behalf. but, my tragedy, my loss, my shitty circumstance has introduced me to who i really am. and, while you may know me well or not know me at all, i promise you; this me, in the midst of unfathomable pain, is someone i am still getting to know and up until now im not sure i wanted you to meet.

five months and 7 days ago, my dad had a stroke. the strongest, bravest and greatest man i know was robbed of so much, but while he has fought to regain all that was taken from him, not a day has passed that i havent thanked God for leaving him here. time, i now see in the clearest of ways, is truly the most precious of gifts and i treasure the extra time God has so generously given us with him. in the days following his stroke, we all prayed, shaken but steadfast in our resolve and in our faith, full of gratitude and thanks. within days of his release home, my mother, the kindest, most generous, and easily my most treasured friend was diagnosed with a recurrence of the breast cancer that she had battled and defeated 15 years ago. it was on this day, the day of her diagnosis while still reeling from my dads stroke that i met me. the me who was not shaken, but broken. who was not faith filled, but fear filled. who was not hopeful, but angry. enraged, really. drunk on my own cocktail of rage and grief and disbelief.

and i wrote then like i write now, but to share the thoughts from those early days, to even read them now brings me face to face with someone i didnt know existed. someone incredibly lost and clinging to hope with white knuckles and weakest of grips, begging God for His mercy and divine intervention. what i thought to be true about many things shifted and gave way beneath me, but what i knew to be true has remained a steadfast foundation, sometimes that i stand on and sometimes that i cant get up from. what i know is this:: God is the same. today. as He was before my hero's stroke and my best friends cancer. He is the same. today. before pain and grief, shock and fear. before worry and sadness, doubts and disbelief. and He will be the same tomorrow. regardless of the magnitude of the situation, He is never changing. He will show up as He has faithfully done amid every moment of joy He has generously given and every tear He has wept with me. He is capable and in control, kind and in love with my parents, almighty, powerful, merciful. He has not been surprised by any of this and is holding us close while the storms of adversity rage around us just as He held us while we were drowning in a sea of joyous blessings. just putting that in size 12 font fills me with the peace and comfort so many of you have prayed for.

i am me. i am checking in, getting to know myself and letting the rest of you in on the me i didnt know was there. i am okay. and while i am a version of myself i didnt know before 5 excruciatingly long and short months ago, the more i get to know the real me, the one He has created me to be, the more intimately i am getting to know Him, the One capable of carrying all of us through this season.

still

i wrote this to you a short three years ago...and while much has changed with our family, my love, respect and adoration for you have not. you are still the one i count on and look to in times of joy and times of grief. most recently, friend, you have been a rock for me, listening and praying, loving and reassuring me with eyes that see my pain and feel it too as my faith and hope have been recklessly tossed about. thank you for being more to me than i could imagine and for loving me in the most secure ways. you, my love, are worth reminding of a date 12 years ago....

do you remember what was happening 9 years ago today? i was meeting you and finally showing up for a divine appointment where 'we' would officially begin. and i know you think its silly and i know you think we should stop celebrating the day we met and stick to the wedding anniversary and i know youre ready to let this date slip from your already filled up planner, but if not for this day there would be no wedding day to celebrate.

do you remember the date that wouldnt end? it was just supposed to be dinner, but an hour later we were still standing in the driveway unwrapping layers of one another as we asked a million questions and shared a million stories. by the end of the night, i knew you were definitely 'friend' material. your honesty, sensitivity, compassion, wit and those navy blue eyes won me over. at the time i was thinking of what friend i had deserving of you. clearly, we would not be an item. after all, you lacked the massive amount of baggage in need of my unpacking to be a candidate for me. who would i be to you when you were already beyond okay? what would i fix and where would i find purpose in your functional life?

do you remember pretending to be interested in my stupid political science class? so interested you asked to borrow the book and then offered to help me study for finals? i knew you were making up reasons to see me and i loved it. i felt interesting and important, that you, this incredibly busy and special 'friend' put 'time with me' at the top of your to do list.

do you remember our first kiss? its a redundant question i know since it has been the source of a playful debate for 9 years. you can try and make amendments to history on how it really went down, but we both know the truth and it scared the living daylights out of me. did you know i sat in my car for 10 minutes wondering what next.

do you remember imagining a future? over the next year and next 8 years, we would find home in one another. we would fail and forgive and fall deeper in love more times than we can count. and i would find overwhelming joy and peace and contentment. and i was right. you were and are 'friend' material. the greatest friend i could have hoped for. someone to share my future, my dreams, my insecurities and my coffee with. when i scratched the surface of you, i found a friend and soul mate. i recognized you as an answer to a prayer that i was afraid to pray. after all, what would i really do if God gave me you? my fear of ruining such a tremendous gift left me nervous at best and terrified most days. what would happen when i wasnt new and interesting and challenging? and yet, there you were day after day, month after month, year after year, showing up for our life together, building a future and laying a foundation with love, truth, faith, patience and commitment. and dont forget laughter. lots and lots of laughter.

do you remember the earliest days? the foundation may be the One who gave us to one another, but the first layer of us, the strongest one, the one that never shifts or threatens to give way is you. remarkable you. and in that moment when i realized you were the perfect 'friend', God got a hold of my heart and began handing it over piece by piece to you. and now, nine years later, the only attributes that rival 'friend' are 'husband' and 'father'.

its easy to love you. and not just because you make great coffee and killer breakfasts and you make life lighter and our future brighter. and not just because you consider our monday night football pizza and beer date sacred and because i sleep better with you next to me. and not just because your nervous giggle is the same when delivering good and bad news and it always keeps me guessing. and not just because i am healthiest and happiest with you and not just because the only person that adores you as much as i do is our beloved daughter. but because simply you are you. easy to love you.

thank you, 'friend' for making the last 9 years worth celebrating.

eleven minutes

so ive got around eleven minutes before the lumpy one will be joining me after he hops out of his crib without any effort to blog and im thinking eleven minutes is actually a pretty long time. jack has begun climbing out of his crib with the ease of spiderman and while i was initially panicked, im now seeing it as a sign of him growing up, becoming responsible for his own sleeping habits and of course getting one day closer to being capable of making my coffee.

we just got back last night from a quick weekend trip to hershey, pa and for those of you who are exceptionally slow, that would be the mother ship of the chocolate company. i consumed enough chocolate to make me sick and the kids started and ended each day with a mouthful of sugar. we did a day at hershey park (thank you hershey man for making it a discounted day for the military) and better half and i were able to rediscover one of our first loves. roller coasters.

somehow, in spite of our shared fear of fixed heights, we both looooooooove a great roller coaster. the pics they snap mid ride always tell the tale...this time around i had one pic that looked like i was on the brink of tears (thats a good ride) and another that looked like id just been told id won a winery in tuscany (this would be a happy crazy surprised face). both of them, however, only showed one chin so i was pleased and as tempted as i was to throw down the $12 for these tacky 4x6 souvenier pics to commemorate the thrilling time, i did manage to pass on them. we spent that $12 later on a kids meal. anywho...we had a really great day and loved spending the weekend with some of our besties and the fam.

a close second to my love of roller coasters is my love of people watching and for me, an amusement park is like hitting the mother lode on this obsession. i waffle between judgment and relief (im just being honest here) as i see the landscape of our country and where i fit in. and im still amazed at the number of tattoos that everyone seems to have. as one who has longed for one since i was 15, i can now safely say that over the last 6 months (no kidding) ive decided maybe i dont want one. the truth is they seem to be the least badass thing you can do these days with everyone from soccer moms to dentists having them. and really, that dolphin i desperately wanted 17 years ago would look like a dying beached whale on my navel at this point. and of course the sun i wanted on my back would look like a tramp stamp and the turtle i wanted on my foot would look like an open wound from a distance. most recently i wanted a word (i love words) on my wrist. alas, i couldnt decide on a word and am now thankful i didnt slap one on there. i guess im just realizing a tattoo is not a wise investment for a gemini who changes her mind at least twice a minute and has the attention span of a drunk gnat. i still see one on occasion that has me a little envious, but as time goes (and i seem to grow up....imagine that) i become less and less enamored with the idea of permanently putting something on my body. my parents are not so silently relieved.

road tripping with the little people is always a pleasure as well. mind you, this was only 2 1/2 hours, a laughable amount to all you road warriors with hundreds of hours logged and the crumbs proudly stuck in between the seats marking all of your journeys. however, for us amateurs, it was a drive. before heading home i decided, in a move that i was certain would pay dividends later, to find a parking lot and slap some jammies on these over sugared, under slept kids. while it did require a bit of effort, i assured my better half it would be worth our time, making for a seamless transition from car to bed with sleeping children upon our return home.

i somehow forgot we have the only two children who are incapable of sleeping in the car. as in, gk prefers to giving us a mile by mile commentary on her ever changing surroundings and jdub prefers throwing books and blowing his nose (his new talent) in his hands. i had to explain to the peach why we were no longer eating snacks as we had just completed 48 hours of chocolate and amusement park food and while that seem to satisfy her for awhile, she eventually began questioning my mothering abilities with, 'mom, did you pack any healthy snacks for me? im really hungry'. no, georgia, nothing healthy. rule #3 of a road trip is crappy snacks that taste great, curb hunger and can also do double duty by bribing you to be quiet when your dad and i get desperate. cant really imagine getting much leverage from a carrot stick.

and so it went. for 2 1/2 hours. they were really really good even if they didnt sleep and im just counting down the wake ups until we get to start our 16 hour road trip to the beach. perhaps by then ill be splitting a tylenol pm between the two of them. ill research that for the rest of you and report back.

happy summer and happy road tripping.

got phobias?

i have many phobias im not entirely proud of...flying, bridges (not the concrete variety but the archy metal over the top kind), mice, fixed heights (as in the ledge/edge or overlook of anything) and commitment. interestingly enough, the only phobia that keeps me from living out my days to the fullest is my commitment phobia. while most people i know feel over committed, i seem to hang out in the world of the under committed. i feel like the vast majority of my time (at least in the waking hours) is spoken for by two very needy (albeit downright sweet and adorable) little people and the time that isnt theirs is ours (the family that is). parting with any of this time is as easy as giving up my morning pot of joy.

i would no more let my fear of flying keep me from seeing the world or a fear of heights keep me from experiencing the thrill of sky diving than i would let myself pass the hot donuts now sign at krispy kreme, but commitment? thats another story. i let it keep me from experiencing things all the time. i can sugar coat it under the guise of 'protective of my family time' or 'prioritizing whats best for my family', but the truth of the matter is i just dont like committing too much of MY time too far in advance. i like giving one time donations, hosting one time events, attending one time meetings, planning one time vacations. but, unfortunately, when someone asks me for more than that, i quickly retreat into 'ill get back to you' speak or 'ill think about it' (which we all know is just buying time to justify the weak answer of 'no').

and im working on it. im leading a group of high school girls on a weekly basis in our home and over the course of this year, this weekly commitment has blessed me in ways i didnt know it could. and im finally getting 'it'...the 'it' for me is that there are certain blessings that ONLY come from commitment. rewards that you can only experience AFTER truly giving of yourself on a regular basis. sometimes, as much as i crave the goodness from a one time event, i realize more and more the really great stuff only happens over time and after investing more of my selfish self than im comfortable with. this is a flaw God is working out in me one day at a time as i realize how empty my life would be without a few of my biggest commitments like my marriage, my faith, some friendships and of course this very long term commitment of motherhood. so, im on it. willing to let God work this out in me and willing to commit more of myself and more of my time. what fears are keeping you from experiencing the goodness that could be coming your way if you were willing and able to overcome them? just a thought worth unpacking when you have a minute.

crazy

im watching you now and youre staring at me. you think im crazy. and i may be. i may truly be thisclose to losing my mind. for you. you are growing and changing and challenging me in ways i didnt know existed. i am growing and learning, failing and falling. more in love with you. more in awe of you. you, my beautiful girl are a spark. a light. a fire that flickers and fades and draws me in. i stare at you a lot these days trying to catch the thief that changes you in the most subtle of ways right before my eyes. your face has thinned, your legs have grown, your tone has shifted and i missed it. im watching closer now. i dont want to miss anymore.

you are not my baby, but a grown up 4 year old with grown up ideas and grown up logic. i catch you as you race by me and i hold you, squeeze you tight and breathe you in amid giggles and pleas to be released. i have stolen more of these moments from you as you run faster and farther. and i want you to know, at 4 at 7 at 14, you will always be my baby and i will take as many moments from you that you will give me. i will share time and stop time and beg with every part of me to slow time down. i love the you i know and i love the you i dont know, the one you are becoming one day at a time. and i am privileged and proud to be yours. i love being your mommy and i love planting the seeds throughout our days that we will sow together in the future. i love that youre funny. that you amaze me with your curiosity and your questions. that you leave me dumbfounded and fresh out of answers on a regular basis. and youre learning. and im learning. im learning that the more i try and teach you, impress upon you attributes of compassion, generosity, faith and love, i am molded by our Creator to live those out in a more authentic way as well. you, sweet girl, make me a better person. the person i long to be in the eyes of my Father, is the person you are helping me become in the eyes of the most remarkable little girl ive ever known.

so, humor me while i gaze crazily and try to memorize every distinct detail of wondrous you before they change and you change and im left to discover the new you. i love you, georgia kate. thank you for allowing me to shape and mold and grow and learn with you, my baby girl.

God is still God and im inspired

very powerful story...i can only hope that when faced with the daily 'issues' of my day, i can remember this. remember him. and keep it all in perspective. God is good. God is still good. and i am left humbled and inspired by zac and the numerous others He has recently placed in my path...i realize daily just how much i have to learn and how far i have to go.

jimmy dean

i have always had sausage fingers. regardless of weight or size, my fingers have always resembled a nice collection of 10 sausage links in varying lengths. in hawaii, after an evening of grilling out with great friends and probably a few great drinks, one of my friends found out that my middle name (prior to me getting hitched and making my maiden name part of the deal) was for the vast majority of my life 'dean'. as in katherine dean. as in katie dean. as in of course (how the hell could i have missed the obvious correlation my entire life) katie dean sausage. fingers that is. trust me when i tell you that in order for you to get the heelariousness of this night, you did have to be there preferably with a slight buzz and a front row seat to frank (the friend) giving out his best katie dean sausage fingers commercials. they were funny. i laughed. i still laugh every time i think of it. what made it funny was a combination of many things, but what made it super funny to me was that it was just my fingers. wouldnt have been so funny if it had been 'katie dean sausage body'.

which leads me to my recent journey through the trenches of hell known as swimsuit shopping. two things i know i should have done more of before having kids (which incidentally i didnt figure out until after having them. (thats fairly typical of my luck and judgment) 1. sky diving (once was not enough) and 2. bikini wearing. yes, i wore them. a lot. always under the constant self loathing that bookended my bikini esteem from ages 14 to 28. i see pictures now of those days that had me hating my body and am saving them for my plastic surgeon for what i want my after pictures to look like. i would no more put on a bikini today than attempt to do math in public. im not putting my kids through it (seriously, your kids do not want their mom rocking a bikini) and im really not willing to put myself through it. but alas, who really loves their body in a bikini and more importantly who wants to be around someone who does? ill take self deprecating friend time on the beach any day over 'happy to be in my body' banter. like thats fun.

anywho, i decided it was time to add to my swimwear wardrobe this spring. when i originally ventured out in february, i put on a suit and immediately thought, 'okay, this is way too soon. clearly im still winterized', must wait until spring. but we all know that the early bird gets the worm or in my case, the reluctant winterized shopper will at least get sizes other than 2 and 16 to choose from. part of my problem (which i assure you is vast) is i have not committed a day in advance to this endeavor. its always grabbing a few minutes of time to try something on and then realizing it doesnt work. if i had a day in mind, i could at least go tanning (spray on, mom, i promise) and of course a 24 hour fast wouldnt hurt either, but these few minutes here and there with kids with me is not conducive to swimsuit shopping success. take last week for example when i had jack with me at an unnamed store. i grabbed a few options that involved mini swim skirts (the lamest attempt ever to make a 'mom' suit sexy) and halter tops. i also grabbed a box of yogurt covered raisins to keep jack happy. while stripping down to swimsuit attire, i noticed jack was now eating the raisins off the floor. thats dirty. and awesome because i would need to make a large deposit to his future therapy fund if he were actually paying attention to his half naked crazy mother frantically tugging and tying and turning around. which i should not have done. things werent awesome from the front, but really, a 3 way mirror in a dressing room?? shouldnt those only be in the common dressing area, as in youd have to really want to see yourself from 3 angles to do it? why are they forcing reflections of myself on me id rather not see right there in the dressing room? i made a mental note to fill out a customer service card, just a simple suggestion of removing the 3 way mirrors when the swimwear arrives would be sufficient. while staring at myself in disgust, jack thankfully broke the mood with the pin cushion. as in he found it somehow between fistfuls of dirty raisins and was now beginning to put the pin in his mouth. so, i moved in quickly and saved the boy from the choking hazard. i did nothing about the dirty raisins. i decided to call this a wasted day and started getting dressed. i was between the swimsuit and my clothing (that brief minute when you can think of nothing other than the comfort of your own clothes that fit and hide hail damage) when jack opened the dressing room door. thank you, jack. now im naked and horrified. what a great combo. in one seamless move jack was tossed and the door was closed, with a barricade of me preventing any future public exposure.

we left that wonderful 3 way mirror, pin cushion, lever handle door knobs store and came home. which was awesome because my $400 lands end order was waiting on the steps! yay! i had been assured by several very reliable sources that lands end was made for moms and grandmas and all varieties of women who need some bathing suit help (which i find somewhat deceiving because none of their models need any help, but whatever). apparently, they have an insane amount of spandex (which i always thought i should avoid, but supposedly, when in a suit, it has a less trashy scary look and manages to hold you in) it sounded altogether magical. i have never in my life been in such a hurry to go through the hell of putting on a suit, but with the lands end package in hand, i felt my luck was changing. ill say right now, dont take me to vegas. i put that spandex filled contraption on and looked. and stared. i look like something...something familiar, wait for it...oh, clearly, i looked like a sausage in casing. a big katie dean sausage. you have got to be kidding me. am i really the one person in the world who cant even wear a lands end suit? i have already returned all but one of them. the one i kept is really not good. add in what i paid for it and its down right ridiculous, but im not giving up or giving in. i am keeping this casing until i look great in it or find something else. im ordering from athleta this week...ill keep you posted.

want vs need

what i want to blog about today is my recent swimsuit shopping endeavor aptly named 'mission somewhat impossible' or 'holy crap, these two kids have done a number on me' or 'whose arse is that really in the mirror', but instead, what i need to blog about today is the recent wave of stories ive read of families losing those they love, a child, a father, a wife. families who are drowning in grief one excruciatingly long moment at a time. and i dont want take you down these gut wrenching roads with me as i relive their journey with them in size 12 font nor do i want to ruin your day with their sadness. rather, i want to give you the cliff notes version of what im taking away from them. if all i do is read and weep and lift gut wrenching prayers on behalf of their suffering, but fail to change something within myself, i have missed it. i have missed the opportunity of their lifetime to change the course of mine. and after reading and weeping, their lives are more than worthy of altering my own. their lives and love are heavy enough to permeate my days if ill let them and today as i sit here and am left with the opportunity to reflect, i want nothing more than to be saturated by their legacies.

i will cherish the interruptions to my plans. this will not mean celebrating a blizzard that delays my husbands return home (although how blessed i am to have a husband coming home). rather, it means giving my 'plans' their due priority. laundry can wait while i read books under a blanket with one very cuddly baby boy. dinner can wait while i attend yet another afternoon tea party with 4 babies, two puppies and one very proud 4 year old peach. we will blow off errands to play at the park, get out the play dough, puzzles and paint and blow bubbles until we're sick of it. what im learning daily is that the joy justifies the mess every time. and while i love a clean house and enjoy nice things, at the end of the day we are not living in a museum (and seriously, mt vernon is nice, but i would never want that old stuffy house anyway) and our home is so much more about the feelings within it than the crap filling up the spaces.

i rocked my son to sleep today just because i could. he would have happily laid down and fallen asleep, just like he will do the majority of his life, but today, while looking at him i swear i saw changes in him from a week ago. he is growing and changing and running faster than i would like to admit. so, now, while i can catch him, im going to hold him. we prayed for these families as we rocked back and forth and when i laid him down in his crib i saw the verse painted on the wall above ::

for He will order His angels to protect you wherever you go.

psalm 91:11

i have always imagined the wherever being more than his physical location (although those of you that know our sweet and fearless boy can most certainly attest to angels holding his hands and protecting him from a 3 story fall most recently). more than his physical location and condition, i prayed when placing this above jacks crib that His angels would be protecting him in his spirit, in his heart and in his mind. i imagined them sitting with him in times of grief and loneliness, in longing and pain. i imagined them celebrating with him in moments of joy and elation, in love and success. and i am comforted by a God who is there, filling up and filling in the spaces of our grief and corners of our doubt. in our justified anger and outrage. in our all consuming fear and sadness. He is there. even when we are so removed from Him, we cannot feel Him. even when we deny His presence. He is still there. my prayer for these families as they crawl through every stage of their grief and suffering is they would feel Him, too. that His angels would protect them wherever they go. that His arms would offer a haven of comfort and sanctuary of peace. and most of all, that i can honor their loved ones with how i choose to spend the minutes of my days. it is the one tribute worthy of their legacy that will forever be a part of mine.

the perks

when you are away and i am on my own, i tell myself there are some perks to my reclaimed, semi forced independence. there is a bed that i can sleep in the middle of, a laundry basket that takes longer to fill and quiet evenings of alone time to do whatever i choose to do.

and while the perks are easy to see coming and look forward to (as we both know what a bed and blanket hog i can be) they never fail to disappoint. the truth is that the perks are simply a figment of my imagination that allow me to be overly optimistic about time apart. unfortunately, the reality is that nearly 10 years into this union of we, i am no longer completely me separate from you.

this union and this life with you, this marriage and this love have taken up more of me than i knew it could. so much so that when i am alone, i am missing the best part of myself. the person i was before is now so intricately woven into this life we share, i no longer recognize her on her own. and i am forever grateful that in your presence, i am whole and in your absence, i am missing something. the something that helps me sleep soundly and easily, comforted most by simply knowing you are there. the something that fills my time with conversation or easy silence. the something that offers me profound encouragement and reassurance just by sharing the same space.

when you are gone, i am missing something. something precious, sacred and treasured. something loved and cherished and adored. i am missing the 'we' that He has created, the 'us' that we have evolved to and the family that we are. the something i am missing most in the hours of my days and minutes of my nights is you. more than anything. you.

**it happens

normally i avoid poop stories. mostly because there is still a part of me left from my childhood that would like to pretend no one poops. im sure it stems in part from growing up in a house with 3 girly girls living in it and no place for bathroom humor. i didnt know poop could be funny until i met pat and then of course his sister who is a total girl and can still find bathroom humor somewhat entertaining. and while i continue to avoid most conversations that center around poop, lately its becoming unavoidable.

i find it truly amazing what motherhood will do with an aversion to poop. she comes in with this bundle of joy and then all but immerses you in a sea of sh**. it starts with seemingly harmless poop that barely exists and is mostly scent free. and then of course before you know it, you are changing the diapers of a manchild who eats everything you eat and the nasty grows. then theres potty training (which for me was pretty uneventful the first time around which all but guarantees a multitude of poop issues the second time around) and then the announcements from the backseat of, 'i have to poop. a little, but please hurry' or while at the playground you suddenly find yourself leaving one child in the care of total strangers to take the other child into the woods to poop by the old oak tree.

and if not for the 24 hour span i recently experienced, i might be able to let this post pass, but as one who has just had the poopscapades ive had, i just have to share. you can thank me later.

on wednesday while hosting some of the coolest people in the world for their visit to d.c., we were all doing our part in helping me get the peach to preschool. we'd had a lazy morning of coffee drinking and talking and before i knew it i had exactly 7 minutes to get georgia to school. which was awesome because we were all still in our jammies. i began flying around upstairs disguising my lack of hygiene with a hat and spackling on some under eye concealer to trick people into thinking id had a lot more sleep than the few hours i really had. gk was in her room independently getting herself ready when i heard a blood curdling scream from her bathroom. i went running, as any semi responsible mama would and found her pants down, crap smeared self standing next the toilet. i said, 'sweetie, WHAT is the matter???' to which she answered, 'my brother did THIS!' and pointed into the potty. i hadnt even noticed jdub standing there until that moment. but just as she said, there he was, with a fistful of her necklaces looking into the poop filled potty. apparently, hed bum rushed the toilet, knocked her off and thrown something of value into the now crowded toilet. when i looked down, i could see what was freaking her out. the FREE plastic necklace shed picked out at the doctors office eons ago was now at the bottom of the toilet. everything in me wanted to 'accidentally' flush and move on, but i knew if it got stopped up, id have to admit to patrick (who is no plumber) that i had in fact, lazily chosen to take my chances and flush the necklace/poop combo. crap. so, i did what any sleep deprived, rushed mother of two who has become so desensitized to things that just a few short years ago would have had me gagging or hiring help to take care of. i reached in and grabbed that piece of crap necklace, flushed the poop, cleaned the toilet and the peach and began sanitizing all surfaces. and we were only 4 minutes late for school.

this should be the end of the story or at least the end of the poop story, but shock of all shocks, it isnt. i had around 24 hours to recover from the trauma of 'operation crappy jewelry' before experiencing poopscapade numero dos.

gk has had a cough for weeks. long enough for me to dismiss the 'its just a cold' theory and long enough for me to take her to the doctor for real meds. unfortunately, real meds have real side effects. some of you mamas are already tracking. that little miracle antibiotic, augmentin, is good for two things: curing what ever ails you and causing insane amounts of poop.

day 1 on the augmentin:: 'mooooooom, i need you, i had an accident.' i was sluggish to respond. mostly because she hasnt had an accident in many many months and even more so because i was chatting with my mom on the phone. i casually walked over to the bathroom and said something along the lines of 'mom, i gotta go, theres poop EVERYWHERE'. click.

and there was. the toilet, the floor, the door, the door knob, the rug, the peach. everywhere. seriously? apparently the antibiotic was doing wonders for her cough and her intestines. nice. so, we cleaned, cloroxed and sanitized all appropriate floors, knobs and surfaces. this was a scene that would repeat itself on a much smaller scale no less than 3 more times that day. three. (arent you thrilled im not sharing those details?) during the clean up of the first disaster, jdub managed to climb on top of the dining room table and fall off. fortunately his fall was broken by one of the chairs (weak silver lining, i know). at some point (although i barely remember it) i called patrick at work and gave him a run down of my morning on his voice mail. i must have sounded pathetic enough to land some serious sympathy points because he arrived home that night with the prettiest box of chocolates ive ever seen.

im hoping this is the last chapter in my long list of poopscapades, but with two little people in the house that continue to eat, i highly doubt this is the end of it. good times. please feel free to share any of your poopscapades, now that i get bathroom humor and know whats funny, id love to hear them. cheers to motherhood and her very dry sense of humor.

dear mr. bobcat man,

okay, so i may need to apologize for a brief minute. you see, today, when i looked out my window and saw you maneuvering the coolest piece of machinery ive seen in a long time, i was in awe of you. (and while im no machinery expert, im guessing the bobcat you were driving has to be the coolest mini dozer in all the land). i came running out to ask you to remove some snow from behind one of our cars and i totally chickened out. yes, that was me, running to you and then running away. i then came in the house to send out my super cool hubby to ask what i was unable to ask. he, being a guy, was totally impressed but not awe struck (although he did compare you to a super hero once you left). i just want to say thank you. thank you for removing the 7 foot pile of snow from behind our weak sauce vw which would be going nowhere until spring if not for you and your amazing side kick, super bob the bobcat. i brought you coke, beer and offered hot chocolate. i would have invited you in for dinner, but something inside me (perhaps that rare logical side of me that occasionally emerges) helped me control myself.

you are amazing. you have freed our car, our afternoon and renewed my faith in our home owners association. you prevented me from keeping vigil in our one clear space to keep lazy neighbors from swiping it. inevitably you prevented a weak suburban type brawl all with your snow moving skillz. you have made me want to invest in a bobcat for the once in a millenium blizzard just for the once in a lifetime experience of feeling the glory of being you, super hero bobcat man.

and its super bowl sunday. how cool is that? you get to be the hero of one of the greatest battles of man vs nature on the same day every man, woman and child will be watching another legendary, history making game. well, i for one, mr. bobcat man, will remember you far longer than ill remember the superbowl champs.

so forgive me for being an over zealous fan, but seriously, as one incredibly observant husband commented as you so humbly drove away, 'that guy just saved our bacon.' thanks, mr bobcat man for saving the bacon and so much more. you are the superbowl champion of snowpocolypse 2010.

resolutions

i know you thought early february would be entirely too late to post a few new years resolutions. clearly you dont know me and how notoriously late i roll. so here goes in absolutely no particular order my list (less some of you type A crazies try and crack the code...there simply is none).

1. i will have my list done no later than february 3rd. already im exceeding expectations for myself.

2. i will continue busting my arse at the gym even if only for 10 more pounds. they are afterall, the most resilient 10 pounds in all the land, resisting mile after mile of calorie burning, exhaustion inducing treadmill time. they are my nemesis and i will run them off this year. or i lll give up entirely and toast my defeat with a pint of ben and jerrys. either way, im all in for at least a little while longer.

3. taking my cue from the movie julie & julia, i will no longer have friends i dont like. admit it, if you are a woman, you have friends you dont like. its crazy and im confident one of the reasons women still dont get equal pay...men dont have friends they dont like. we have got to correct this insanity. im starting now.

4. i will stop eating chips and salsa for lunch everyday. mostly because i can no longer justify to gk why she MUST finish her nitrate free sandwich, organic milk, organic fruit and last nights leftover veggies before she can have (drumroll) yogurt covered raisins. all of this with a mouthful of some vegetable oil fried tortilla chips and salsa. the hypocrisy has been brought to my attention by one fairly insightful 4 year old and i am fresh out of a legit comeback. they may also have formed an alliance with my 10 pounds. this is one happy union im going to attempt to break up.

5. if there are type As and type Bs, ive decided im a type Z. im finally okay with that. i have come to terms with how im wired up and i will no longer resist my type Z tendencies which include lots of to do lists that list numerous things ive already done, just because i like crossing things off and feeling like im making progress. logic rarely comes into play with type Zs.

6. i will finally clear out my linen closet and along with it years of linen loving collecting. at this point, we could have 7 beds made, with everyone wetting the bed the same night and not one would be without a fresh, clean set of sheets. crazy. i could be considered a linen hoarder. i have crappy towels from a decade ago that ive been saving in case we give the dog a bath. except we havent had abe since may of 2007 and i would never wrap up one of my soft, sensitive skin kids in one of them, so they need to go. along with the shower curtain from our first house. i paid too much for it and have been hanging onto it out of guilt. of course i just spent $30 to mail something to hawaii...type Z. nuff said.

7. we will invest stock in julios seasoning & chips, blue bell ice cream and shiner bock beer. why? because everyone we know outside the state of texas would offer up their first born or at least a kidney to have all three in the same house at the same time. theyre just that good. except for that seasonal shiner that tasted like crap. that was a rare exception.

8. i plan on watching mizzou and texas a & m lose every single game this season. especially when mizzou plays criminal ku and a & m faces t.u. this is my new expectation and im not holding out for any pleasant surprises. no edge of your couch anticipation, no game day parties with neutral friends who watch us become heartbroken fans left with nothing more than stories of decades past where victory was really a possibility. nope. from now on, we are looking forward to another rebuilding year.

9. i will no longer allow myself to get sucked into the infamous military wife chatter of one upsies. so, we moved 5 times in 8 years with a lot of crazy highs and lows and last minute change of plans. there in lies the story of EVERY military family. youre not special. im not special. in fact, we have had it pretty easy considering what so many other families have endured. we are unbelievably blessed to have job security serving in the most noble of ways no less with the perks of seeing the world. does it suck somedays? of course. am i drinking the kool aid? not a chance. but, i am guilty of listening to the litany of military speak complaints and sharing my own hard to believe tales. im done with it and promise to do better. at least until better half deploys again...then ill need some accountability...angie, dont let me slip. :)

10. i will blog more. my disclaimer is they may stink. i may have nothing to say or share, but i certainly wont let my lack of worthy material keep me from putting it out there. i have to make a more consistent effort. heres to mediocrity and a happy 2010.

awwww. kward

im sorry in advance for this post. a) it wont be that good b) its a little gross c) i wish i had something else to blog about, but as this incident and accompanying images from it is seared in my mind, my hope is that once i have purged it here for you, i may be able to release myself from its memory. at least thats the goal.

i have become a legit, completely committed gym person. it is no longer my matchy matchy attire that keeps me going nor the excuses for new running shoes, but rather the hour plus of alone time (i completely tune out any and all other people there) that i am able to spend by myself watching sportscenter on my treadmill or listening to 'katies groove' on my ipod (which consists of everything from coldplay to outkast to kenny chesney). i love my gym time. i love going, i love running and lifting and getting a great workout in on a regular basis. let me clarify really quick here for those of you that know me and are wondering who took over my mind that once lived by the clear mantra of 'dont run unless someones chasing you' and 'i hate exercise so much id drive to the bathroom if i could', i assure you i have not become one of THOSE people. you know, the weird runners high crew who really do love running as much as they love cheesecake. i promise you, i still love cheesecake more. i have simply come to value the time it gives me with my thoughts to burn a few calories. however, last week i was traumatized.

my locker room at the gym is quaint (read small) with numerous 3 foot benches strewn about bolted securely to the floor in front of lockers. there is never more than 5 people in the locker room at one time. ever. and i like my privacy. i like showering at home with closed doors and yummy soap and the lack of athletes foot on my tiles. i like fluffy towels and clean steamy mirrors. my gym has none of these, which is why i save my naked time for home. i wish more people did. not that im bothered by naked strangers around me, but seriously, towels, people, towels. the other night after running for an hour i retreated to the locker room to lay on a bench and drink my water. the split second between sitting on the bench and laying down was just enough time for g.i. body builder jane to swoop over to my bench and have a seat on the other end. with a whole 18 inches between us, i was anxious for her to get dressed or find her towel, but whatever. it was at this moment i decided it would be more awkward for me to move to another bench and make jane uncomfortable. wouldnt want to make anyone uncomfortable, would we?? so i sat. and focused on my hydrating. and then she started stretching. stretching. as in yoga on MY bench NAKED. really? still no towel available, jane? or maybe that bench right over there with no one on it would work? why is this bench with awkward me now so focused on my water bottle i think i could light it on fire with just my concentration so appealing? and why wouldnt you take advantage of those awesome mats out in the gym conveniently there for you guessed it, stretching? why must you be here so close to me and so naked that im now wishing i was anywhere else...you know so this wouldnt be so awkward? apparently, jane couldnt hear me thinking so the stretching continued for quite some time (like most wonderfully pleasant situations) before i casually got up and exited stage right.

and i do still love my gym time and i dont mind my locker room time, but the towels need to be bigger and mandatory and the benches need to be smaller and made for one, preferably non stretching person. and perhaps under all the signs of 'cell phone use prohibited' and 'towels only, please' there could be just one more, 'no naked stretching on benches, please'. i feel better already. thanks for letting me purge.