The "Age Old" Question

The other day a neighbor commented on how big the kids were getting. (Yes, please don't remind me--I'm not good in these situations.) She asked if Matthew was starting kindergarten this year. (He was riding in the double stroller at the time--please tell me that he won't be in a stroller and still have his binky and bottle when the time really comes.) I told her "no" and said he was still only three. She said that he looks tall for his age. Maybe he does--I don't know. I started to think that I was mildly offended that she thought he was two years older than he is. Yes, I know that is a stupid reaction. The fact is I DON'T WANT him to be two years older. I want him the age he is, even younger if physically possible.

Why is it we never want to be the age we are?

When I was 14, I wanted everyone to think I was 16. The two year age advancement would be SUCH a compliment. "Thank you, I know I look older and more mature than I am, but really I'm still only 14 but thank you for thinking I'm much older." Then somewhere around late 20's, early 30's the reverse starts happening. We want to subtract in 5's and 10's. If someone now gave me two more years I would think "how dare they suggest that I am 42? What are they thinking? Do I look older than I am?" (Not that I think 42 is old). Last week at church I was talking to a lady (who I think is about 25-30) who thought I was 25. She was shocked to learn that I will be eligible for Social Security when my kids start to leave home. Bless her heart, kiss her feet, I've met my new best friend. I can't wait to see her again.

The Week in Review

I spy a little eye. Matthew started preschool at the Newcastle School on August 19. Today we learned about shapes and colors. Blue and yellow make green and that is cool!
Can you guess his favorite activity? You guessed it--outdoor play time!
Big Boy turned 1 on August 23! He walked that day too! What a good day for first steps. He knows how to pick his days.

Celebrating life.

Thanks for the tie, Aunt Shannon!

Matthew sports his new train tie from Aunt Shannon. It couldn't be more perfect.

Maybe Gold Really is Worth It?

Last night I watched a few minutes of the Olympics. I'm not a die-hard but enjoy an event here and there. It seems right when I get into an event though, the network lords decide that I need to be watching another event and switch me away. I do enjoy the highlights. I will admit that I've cried during Olympics past. I think I boo-hoo'd most when Dan Jansen won the 1000 meters in Norway in 1994. He was denied a medal in the two previous Olympics, although he was a favorite and held world records. In the 1988 Olympics in Calgary, his sister Jane died of leukemia just hours before he raced. He didn't do so well in 1988 or 1992. He didn't even do so well in the first race in 1994. But during the 1000 meters he brought it all home. I will never forget the victory lap he took carrying his baby daughter named Jane in his arms. I'm almost crying typing this. For photo see: http://www.olympic.org/uk/athletes/profiles/bio_uk.asp?SPO_S_CODE=SK&PAR_I_ID=70415 and you may cry too.

So, as I watched the Olympics last night, I saw a bit of the womens bars. Nastia Liukin took silver on the bars while the commentators debated about whether she really should have won gold instead of the debatably underage Chinese. Always a scandal, always a winner and a loser. We do have quite a medals collection as a country, which of course, I am proud of. We should have a lot since we probably send more athletes than any other country. I love it when an underdog from a small place makes big. Did you know that Mongolia won it's first gold this year? To me that is really exciting for them.

I've been in the Olympics (in my head). I've been a swimmer and a gymnast in the summer Olympics and a downhill skier and a skater in the winter. I live vicariously because not only am I inexplicably lacking in athletic prowess but I would never have the mental discipline to hunker down for 20 years of training. Sometimes I wonder why people even do it. It's just one moment in your whole life and to spend your whole life for the one moment--I'm not so sure about that although I greatly admire their discipline. I saw a gold medal with my own eyes when I was in college. My roommate was dating a swimmer named Troy Dalby and he won gold in Seoul. From what I understand, it was his and his parents quest almost from birth. If my kids ever suggested training for an Olympic sport, I would probably suggest we get a dog instead

This morning when I read the news, I think I changed my mind about working your whole life for the moment. Apparently Michael Phelps has been making between $3-5M a year from endorsements and it's estimated that he will double that with his 8 wins. During his lifetime he could rake in $100M in endorsements. Perhaps I should have practiced my ice skating moves (with my mom's skates from when she was a girl) at the pond at the Quarryville park next to the American Legion. It could have been a scene from Ice Castles and I would be enjoying my multiple millions. Maybe it really is worth the one moment. I find it invigorating that a few of "my kind" (late thirties to early forties) are competing. Did you see the 38 year old American who won the marathon? She was great. I couldn't even run to the end of my street for a piece of chocolate cake. Maybe if I started practicing today, by the time I'm 80, I could compete. I should probably go with archery because even table tennis is pretty fast-paced. If I won gold, I could pay for my retirement village from endorsement proceeds.

Return to Me Report

I thought I should probably provide a brief report on my Return to Me campaign. I needed to wait until I actually had something to report since it's taken me a while to get up the motivation to attempt to act.

Here's a synopsis of where I am:

1. I've been trying to be more realistic on my time commitments and have attempted to not over schedule the past few weeks.
2. This week I actually was successful in fending off the urge to get another Snickers bar from the vending machine. As silly as it is, I was quite proud of myself for being strong and it gave me a little kick in my step.
3. I've been trying to get a little more sleep by retiring a little earlier but being completely honest this does not happen often. I did let myself sleep in until 7:30 yesterday and resisted the urge to get up and start doing while the kids were asleep.
4. I've been trying to enjoy the last official month of summer and taking advantage of events that will soon be gone for the year. Some of those are as simple as getting together for a walk with the cousins or getting off my duff to take the kids to the local amusement park or just enjoying a lovely evening walk while letting Matthew perfect his scooter skills.

I am specializing in baby steps but that's ok. Giant steps scare me and rend me incapable of continued progress.

My Miniature Superhero

The other day, Matthew wanted to wear his Spiderman rain boots. I tried to explain that they would be hot on an August day but he was undeterred. I watched as he carefully went down the deck stairs on his way to the backyard in his boots and orange/blue shirt and orange shorts. The innocence of the moment struck me as he somewhat awkwardly but carefully went down the stairs. I wanted to capture that moment forever and make him never grow up. He is my sweet angel and I want him to stay innocent and pure. He wanted me to come out back and play with him and I put it off probably saying that I needed to clean up, make something, it was too hot, etc. and then the moment was gone. Why didn't I go?

5 Hours at the Mall to Buy Online

I spent 5 hours at the mall today trying to find Spencer his first pair of shoes. It's still pretty hot (ok, really hot-100) so I wanted sandals or at least something that would breathe. They need to still fit in October when we go to Florida. The selection was nill but after multiple stores, I decided on a pair of cute fisherman style Stride Rites. My only concern was whether the sole was flexible enough. That is one of my pet peeves with kids shoes. They trip over the ends because the shoe is as stiff as a board. Perhaps this happens because I generally buy cheap shoes at the discount stores. I don't know. Anyway, the darn shoes have occupied my mind all night wondering if they were the best choice.

Of course after the kids were in bed , I got online (to feed my nightly online addiction) and long story short--I found a darling pair of Umi's in fisherman style for the same price as the mall but they are exactly what I was looking for. Isn't the internet great?! I saved not one stitch of time but at least I got what I wanted in the end even if it was an all day and all night venture. I better run. Spencer is crying in his crib. Maybe he had a nightmare about his new shoes. He looks like a horse who has just been shod for the first time trying to walk in them.

p.s. the website is http://www.endless.com/ I thought they had a great selection and the prices aren't any higher than the mall. In fact, for what I bought, they were considerably lower. And the clincher--free shipping both ways and no tax. You can't beat that.

Sometimes I Get in the Way of My Own Good

Annually at Schiff Nutrition, my place of employment, we hold an outdoor lunch BBQ. They set up a big tent and have it catered, etc. I'm not really sure why we do it, we just do--perhaps to build comradery and spend profit to lower tax liability. I have gotten out of it for the last three or four years, since it's inception actually. I've never attended one because I don't work on Thursdays and it's always on a Thursday. To increase unity and to help with cohesiveness in the company photo (yes--the company photo where all look like ants cause there are hundreds of people) the company supplies matching shirts. I usually donate mine to charity because they are usually ill-fitting and not my style. In fact, I just cleared the last several year's models out a few months ago and sent them to the DI.

The BBQ is this Thursday. In fact, I can see them setting the tent up outside my window. The shirts were distributed this morning. In a word: hideous. It's not so much just the style or just the color/cut/fabric but the combination. They are a cross between a Jiffy Lube uniform and a US Postal shirt. Not to mention that none of the ladies can even button them and still breathe.

So after I got the shirt, my sorry sense of humor got the best of me. I headed to my co-worker DeLois' office and in the process ran into the Creative Services manager, Ryan. I began to spout off to Ryan about the awful shirts and how they were so bad. DeLois agreed that they were not attractive. I then got the idea to have me, DeLois and Kristen (our other cohort) wear the shirts and take a photo to send to our friend, Brooke, who is out on maternity leave. I borrowed a camera from Ryan. He cheerfully obliged. We got all dressed up, complete with fake name labels and took the photo. I then gave the camera back to Ryan and asked him to email me the photo. I then did a little work on the photo renaming us as workers from a refrigeration company with a few additions and captions (unfortunatley the captions were in PowerPoint and I couldn't get it to import below). I proudly emailed it to the gals with the understanding that we should definitely not distribute it on a wide basis. We had a good laugh about it and continued to listen to everyone else mention how ugly the shirts are.

The bad news-- I just learned that Ryan is the one who picked out the shirts for the company. Does this sort of thing happen to anyone else or only me?

Then I proceeded to fall asleep during a teleconference with the IT manager. Can this day just end?

Kristen, DeLois, and me (I was too tired to wash my hair this morning, hence the pony tail)

The Normal Days

I few weeks ago, I saw a comment on a calendar that said something to the effect of enjoy the normal days. At the time, it kind of struck me and I remember thinking that I should do just that because it's the unnormal days that can cause problems. This weekend we received some sad news about a former neighbor. He was a 40 year old father of six and he died when he fell hiking. My heart breaks for his family. Also this week, it's the fifth anniversary of the death of another neighbor, a 40 year old father of five who was killed in a car accident. I spoke to his widow yesterday who is about my age and once again, was heart broken for her. These situations make me glad for a normal day with all the chaos of raising a small family but thankfully my crazy days are not life altering and I hope they never are. I always want to have a "normal" day.

Today I am thankful for the normalcy of healthy kids, a husband who comes home safely, a kitchen with apple juice on the floor, laundry in the basket, an unorganized garage, no meal plans for this evening, dust on the blinds, and any other thing that makes me usually want to freak out. In the big scheme of things, I realize that this stuff just doesn't matter AND it's all normal. Thank you for my normal day.

Is this a bad sign?

Yesterday was a fun time. We went to the aquarium with the cousins and then to lunch. Later in the evening, I planned to join some gals from the single days at dinner. I didn't want to press my luck in asking for a free night out including dinner, so I offered up myself to still mother Spencer and proposed to leave Matthew with Corbin. That way Corbin could still get his lawn chores done (but I don't think that ever happened). Oh well.

So about an hour before I left, there existed an unusual few moments of peace and tranquility in the home when no one was playing in the toilet or banging loudly on a drum. Corbin was home and playing with the kids, and I was trying to get a few chores done before leaving. I don't know why but there seemed to be a small piece of peace which made me think "this is nice, isn't this the way it's supposed to be? But it so rarely is, oh my gosh . . ., is something bad going to happen? What if I'm going to die going to dinner and the Lord is just giving me one last happy memory with my husband and kids." I got a hold of myself and tried to embrace the moment and realize that these moments are preciously grand and can happen absent pending tragedy.

I had a great time. It's fun to get together with people who just accept me for who I am and make me feel good about myself, despite the fact that I weigh more than I did when I was pregnant and have grey racing stripes in my hair. I wonder if it makes my parents feel old to have a daughter who is going grey? They probably say to themselves "can you believe we have a kid who is greying already?"

I called home to tell Corbin I was on my way home and he informed me that Matthew had an "accident" in a less than desirable spot and Corbin had expelled a portion of energy on the clean up and reprimand. I was just glad that it was my night out and that my previous moment of peace was just that.