On Sunday, Mother’s Day, I woke up, stretched, and looked out the window. It was dark. Gloomy. And raining.
This is not a common occurrence around here. We are actually at the north end of a desert that stretches from here to California. Yes, I have complained about SNOW, but in actuality, we do not get a lot of the white stuff. Especially compared to those who live in the prairies, and have to deal with snow up to the roof line.
I. Would. Die.
Our snow pack is almost non-existent and we are on very strict water restrictions.
We need the rain. I get that.
I, however, need the SUN. A cold and dreary day can put me in a funk in the skip of a heartbeat. But a sunny day? No grumpiness allowed. Or even POSSIBLE. Sun = Happy.
So my Mother’s Day started off on the wrong foot. Or wrong weather pattern. Whatever. I did not get breakfast in bed, but I did not expect as much. I am a woman who loves routine, and who loves her daily breakfast of oatmeal and a latte. Honey could have made it for me but he would likely bung it up. That would have thrown my entire day into a terrifying tailspin. I made my own breakfast to save us all from the aftermath of the drama.
After I ate, I was handed a card (That Honey MADE! With my stamping stuff! Creative…or frugal? YOU DECIDE.), and then he headed outside to “get my present”. Soon after, I was presented with some wildflowers from the hill behind our house, a “flower” that Graham had made at school, a gift certificate for a manicure and a pedicure (Woo!), and a postcard that G’s Kindergarten class had sent last week during their trip to the Post Office.
It reads, “Mommy, I love you like the Planet Earth“. Good thing he did not say I looked like the Planet Earth.
It was time to get ready for church and I was grumpy. I had visualized a warm, sunny day. I would wear a pretty pink skirt with a white top and white strappy heels. I would skip and frolic through the wildflowers (Go ahead and visualize it. I am. It’s pretty funny.). The hoopla about Mother’s Day makes it to be this grand event, with sunshine and tulips and leaping. Reality was nothing like the TV. Shocking, I know.
Instead of frolicking through the tulips, I thought I should “spring clean” my closet. Hence, my “fat day“. Bah. (Thanks, though, for your sweet comments and emails.)
Monday morning was more of the same. Grey, cold, and damp. I dislike that word, but not as much as I hate “moist“. Ewww.
Graham woke up with a hacking cough and a nose full of snot, to complement the snot pouring from his siblings’ noses. I kept him home from school, despite the fact that the dude was far more energetic than I have been in about ten years. I don’t like to infect other peoples’ children. By mid-morning the hacking had ceased so I took all three kids to the grocery store, which helped my mood. That is if by “helped” you mean “made me want to tear out my hair”.
Ahem.
(I’m exaggerating. The kids are always good, they just don’t. Stop. MOVING.)
I worked for couple of hours and got caught up on my contract work. I wanted desperately to give Honey a break from Daddy Daycare. Between Accounting work and Photography gigs, he has been pulling overtime. He needed a break. I also needed a break from the blasted weather. Turns out? We BOTH won.
The sun started to peek between some puffy white clouds and I thought a walk would be fun. Except I had all three kids to deal with. We tried to see if they could all fit in the jogging stroller.
Yeah, NOT SO MUCH.
We opted to go to the park at the lake instead. It was early afternoon and in direct sunlight, which is not the best for photos. I did not have my external flash with me, but I tried to do the best I could by manipulating the the metering and the built-in flash (Hmmm…a future Foto Friday post?).
Do you see that long line of drool hanging from her lip? BLASTED EYETEETH.
On the water.
On the monkey bars.
Climbing.
On top of the jungle gym.
While at boot camp last night I reflected (Between shouts of “Right Basic! Left Basic! Repeater Knee!“) on the pensive mood I had been in. Part of was due to the weather, yes, but then I counted backwards in my head. Every twenty-eight to thirty-five days my body does this cyclical thing, if you know what I am saying. It has been almost thirty-five days. The cycle is imminent. Talk about an Aha! moment.
I surveyed the women in my class. There are a wide array of shapes and body types that belong to the women who were jumping, kicking, and crunching right along with me. Every single one of them is beautiful because they have chosen to work hard to make their body the best that it can be.
Which is what both Matthew and I are doing, and what we want to teach all three of our kids to do. We feed them home-cooked meals, we exercise with them, we tell them all day long how beautiful they are. We want to teach them health, as well as balance, which includes the occasional ice cream cone on a sunny day.
I think we are on the right track.
I spent part of my Mother’s Day up in my walk-in closet. Alone.
Miss Emily was napping, and Honey had taken the boys into town to get the makings for my Mother’s Day dinner. He had planned on making Rouladin, but both grocery stores in our small town were sold out of everything (of course). I told him not to sweat it and that we would make do with the plethora of groceries that we already had. We made beef fajitas and it was ALL GOOD.
Back to the closet.
I was going through the items hanging in my closet. Packing away the winter wear, trying on the summer clothes I had from last year. Standing in front of the mirror and assessing my body.
I have posted about My Journey To Fat And Back. I have written A Letter To My Body. Eighty-five percent of the time, I am comfortable in my skin. I go to Step Boot Camp twice a week. I eschew most junk food. I eat small portions and take pretty good care of my body. This body of mine has been pregnant four times, and has given birth three times. For that very reason alone, I believe that it kicks ass.
I am not apologizing for that word. I think God finds the visual of me kicking a donkey pretty funny. He has a good sense of humour, you know.
So back to me. In the closet. In front of the mirror.
I fell into that other fifteen percent. That head space where all that I could see were my flaws. My belly, though stretch-mark-free, was not in the form of a six-pack. My inner thigh is not the pencil-thin variety that I have coveted for as long as I can remember. My butt is no longer flat, thanks to Boot Camp, but that means it is bigger. And rounder.
In my head, I know that I am thin. I am at the lower end of the optimal BMI for my height and age. The scale has not changed from its acceptably low number. The tags on my clothes that state that the size I am are of the S/single-digit variety. I am a world away from the size 15 that I was in my early twenties.
But still. I struggle.
I wish that I didn’t. I wish that the eighty-five percent became one hundred percent. That I could exude confidence and comfort. That I could stop looking at myself in such a harsh light. I want to be an example to my daughter.
Then I think that maybe I am. Maybe, in my insecurity, I can show her that I am human too. That I see all of the pressure that is put onto women. That I, too, succumb to it sometimes.
But that we have the upper hand. We KNOW that God knit us in our mother’s womb. He created the Heavens and the Earth. He takes care of the sparrow…how much more does He care for us? It is mind boggling, really.
I can show her my humanity. We can hold hands, and work through it. I will not be the elusive Mother, but a Mommy who gets her. Who has been there. Who still fights the fight of body image, but who is finally winning. At least eighty-five percent of the time.
Who knows? Maybe by the time she is my age I can reach that one-hundred-percent.
Here’s hoping.
Getting Jiggy With It
Date: Thursday May 8, 2008Posted in: Blogging, Emily, Family, Graham, Nathan, Workin' It, me
I *think* most of my computer issues have been resolved. One of the drawbacks to living in the sticks is that the only high-speed Internet you can get out here is via satellite. While it is a billion times faster than dial-up, it usually hesitates a second or five two before loading a page. Matthew called our ISP yesterday, and we decided to upgrade to the next level of service. I do not know the technical term, but it’s SUPER FAST. Wheeee!
As of this morning, gmail is working. Woo! My work website is easily accessible. Yes! I can procrastinate by surfing the Internet get my work done even faster. Huzzah!
I was trying to use the crisis as a means of convincing Honey that this would be the perfect time for me to switch to Mac. He was not convinced. I see his point. If I am using the “But it’s better for photography!” argument, then I really should not spend money on a new laptop until I start making more from my photography gigs. Want to hire me and support my cause?
As for the whole “work” thing in general, I just started a seven-week contract. Those of you have been around for a while will remember that last year at this time I started a seven-week contract. With thirty-five students. I was working fifty to sixty hours a week and ALMOST DIED was a little burnt out by the end. This time around, I only took on eighteen students. That’s exactly half (with one left out for rounding), and should keep me busy a mere thirty hours or so a week. I won’t even have to pull the up-until-midnight shift to meet deadlines. Hooray!
This means that I will have time to do the photography gigs that come my way. Last weekend I was asked to go to a couple of the local wineries that were participating in the Spring Wine Festival and take some photos.
It was a tough gig. I sure hope I don’t have to do another one of those. Ha! It was too much fun to be considered “work”.
In addition to work and “work”, I plan on having time to hang out with the kidlets and Honey. Last year we managed to keep doing a lot of family stuff, but the whole time I would be thinking about all of the work that I knew was piling up in my inbox. Some people are good at compartmentalizing. Me? Not so much.
I should be able to get my work done in a reasonable amount of time, which will leave me to play with wild abandon. With the arrival of spring (FINALLY!), we spend the bulk of our days outdoors when we are not at school/swim class/boot camp. After dinner we usually head back outside to play some games.
The dudes have been loving “baseball”. Basically, they just take turns hitting the ball. I do not have any photos of this game we play, as they like the way I pitch. I cannot pitch and take photos at the same time. I may be a fantastic multi-tasker, but even I have my limits.
I did manage to get some photos of them playing frisbee with Daddy. Here they are waiting to catch it.
Reunited, And It Feels So Good
Date: Sunday April 27, 2008Posted in: Emily, Family, Graham, Honey, Nathan, me
For well over a week, my poor camera was barely used. I took the sum total of twenty photos in ten days. I usually take at least twenty photos each day. It was a combination of bad weather (SNOW) and a bunch of other distractions (WORK) that made my camera gather dust (figuratively). The last few days have been full of fun and photos, so brace yourselves.
Have. Photos. And. Stories. Must. Post. Can’t. Stop.
On Friday, Honey and I spent the afternoon shopping. The intent was to go and buy shrubs for around our house and deck (which we did), but we thought we’d take a gander at some spring clothes. A week from now I start a seven-week teaching contract that will keep me beyond busy. A shopping excursion will not be possible during that time (of insane craziness), so I thought I had better shop while I had the chance.
I found myself trying on two shirts that I usually avoid, style-wise. They are long, and loose, and pretty. Usually that style makes me look pregnant, but these two did not. I think it was due to the length of them (upper and mid-thigh). I was smitten, and then realized that if I were to buy the extra-long white shirt, I would have to also buy an article of clothing I have been staunchly against (For myself. Because I wore them in Grade Ten. And hate the flashback photos.)
Leggings.
I bought a black pair. Yes. Yes, I did. It will be different this time. At least that is what I keep telling myself.
Moving on. Honey and I had a wonderful dinner and then drove down to the water. There is a great ice cream shop in the old downtown core, so we shared a cone and walked along the lake.
I would have panned more to the left, but there were some young punks chillin’ there. A girl with a big camera did not faze them. Or make them move.
Honey hates getting his photo taken, so this was all I could get.
On Saturday the sun was still shining. We spent the morning spring cleaning inside/working outside. After lunch Miss Emily went for her daily nap and I was inspired to go for a run. I have been doing a Step Boot Camp two nights a week and love the changes I have seen in my body. Honey likes it too. He patted my butt while I was making lunch and was pleasantly surprised by the firmness.
That’s right, baby.
I decided to blow the dust of of the jogging stroller/bike trailer and go for a jaunt with the boys. Graham told me I could take ONE picture.
.
That would be at least one hundred pounds of BOY in that there stroller. That I pushed. While running. For THIRTY MINUTES.
To be honest, I did a variation of the fartlek (Not a fartlick. I don’t even want to know what that is). Basically, I walked for a bit and ran for a bit more. It was hard, but it felt good.
We spent the rest of the afternoon and evening playing outside while Daddy worked on the landscaping. It felt good to be outside, to feel the warmth of the sun on my skin, to take photos of my beautiful (although crazy) children.
Graham again told me I could take just one photo of him. It does not even look like him, what with his pinched and constipated-looking face. Its on Flickr if you really want to see it. I picked up the camera to snap again, and this is what I got.
Turkey.
Nathan is always up for a photo op.
And Miss Emily is at that lovely stage where she’s too busy to notice me much. I can (and do) snap away with wild abandon.
There are more, but I have had not had time to edit them all.
Sunday has been filled with more of the same, including pushing those two boys in the stroller. I ran even further today. I am going to get fit if it kills me.
It just might.
I wore the burnt orange shirt (Not black! Or white! Or brown!) to church this morning, paired with my new jean capris.
Maybe I do look pregnant. I can assure that I am NOT. And will not ever be again. I still think the shirt is cute. Added bonus? Sucking my stomach in is not required.
Miss Emily also got gussied up.
The girl. She likes dresses. She says, “Nice” and “Pretty“, and does pirouettes for Her Daddy.
It is awesome.
The dress is one of about TWENTY-FIVE pieces that Ali mailed to me this past week. With each and every item, I gasped (Audibly!) at the cuteness. Stay tuned. Fashion week(s) to follow. That Ali. She has great taste.
Here are a few more photos of my girl. I am beyond giddy that I have her to dress up.
From the back.
Happy to see Daddy driving up the driveway.
Running and waving at Daddy.
I like this one, because the contrast of “girly-girl” and “ATV-lover” is awesome. Maybe she will one day ride a motorcycle like her Mommy used to.
So, yeah. My weekend was awesome. And yours?
Playdates Are For Grown-Ups Too
Date: Friday April 25, 2008Posted in: Emily, Family, Friends, Honey, me
I am a Mom, with three small children. Life is busy. That just might be the biggest understatement on the planet.
In the midst of the busyness, I do my best to get together with my friends. Why? Because my friends are also moms, and also have crazy children. Somehow, when we get together,we manage to have some pretty sweet conversations amidst the chaos.
Thursday mornings have fallen into a (pretty great) routine. My good friend Amanda (She who first clued me into what a blog even was almost three years ago) usually packs up Avelyn and ventures out into The Sticks to hang with me and my brood. She is all sorts of wonderful.
Emily and Avelyn have a tenuous relationship. They are toddlers. It is ALL ABOUT THEM. Sharing? NOT IN THE VOCABULARY. They are getting better, though. Instead of taking out the bulk of their aggression on each other? They take it out on their respective Mommies. Awesome.
They took a break from throwing cups and doll strollers at us (and each other) to have a Goldfish break. They were being all cute and looking over the back of our Breakfast Bar chairs. Amanda commented that it was a good photo op. She was right.
