At our house, we are learning (always learning!) about things we can say and things we can not say. This has been interesting and funny to say the least.

Miles came up to me after I got off the phone with my dear sister Sara and said,
"Do we say shut-up?"
"No, we don't say that. Where did you hear that?"
"Oh, when you were talking on the phone to Sara."

I thought to myself, did I say shut-up? Who knows, maybe I did. Sara and I talk about a lot of things and you just never know. :)

"Miles I'm sorry I said that on the phone to aunt Sara and I will try to be more careful."
"Okay, try not to do it." (Love that kid!)

Hours later, we were sitting at a stop light and I was also texting while the light was red (go ahead and judge me, I should not do it). Apparently, in the mean time the light turned green and people were waiting on me. The man behind me honked and I looked up and started to go. I guess I was not going fast enough and the light was turning yellow and the man behind me starts honking without ceasing.
So I yell, "Shut-up, I'm going!"
"Um, mommy. Do we say shut-up?"
"Yes Miles, we do! I mean, no! I mean, sometimes mommy does! But, no she shouldn't. I'm sorry Miles."
"Mommy. Do you need to go to time-out this time?"
"No Miles, I will try not to do it again."
"Mommy. You need a time-out to 'member not to do it."

Maybe he is right.

So, I pulled over in the parking lot of a gas station and sat for three minutes. Miles was totally laughing and telling me what a good job I was doing and Lucy immediately started bawling. Okay. Time-out over, point made. No more shut-ups for anybody.

Four hours later, I went to the Kids Zone at the health club to drop off my crazy kids while I taught my class. One of the sweet workers, Ashlee, told me she is having her baby Thursday. I didn't realize it was so soon and I say,
"This Thursday! Shut-up! That is awesome! How exciting!"

I knew it.

I closed my eyes and waited...

"Mommy. Do we say shut-up?"
"Well Miles, I didn't mean it in a bad or unkind way. I was excited for Ashlee because she is having her baby soon."
"Mommy. We don't say shut-up. You need a time-out."
"Miles, I did not mean it in a bad way."
"Can I say shut-up?"
"Well, no..."

So, what else could a mom do but take her place on the naughty mat in the middle of the Kids Zone at her place of employment for saying shut-up three times in one day?

Wow.

For the past year, I have been trying to keep hours at the health club as a Pilates trainer and teach group exercise classes and, somehow, not put my children in any type of formal daycare. As the days and weeks wore on, I caved. I could not live up to the goals of the health club and my expectations at home, not to mention scrambling for free child care when my allowed hours at the kids zone at the club were expired. Thus brought the crossroad - put the kids in daycare and work a little more full-time so the money exchange was worth it - or - quit Pilates and enjoy every single minute with my crazy kids until they go to school. Pilates claimed time, sweat, tears of frustration and precious moments away from my family beginning when my daughter was only 5 weeks old. For what? To quit when the going got tough? I have invested over a year of training, practicing, studying, and being away from home to find this outlet in my life that might help our family financially and serve as a way to challenge my mind.

Truth is, I love to work. I love to make money. I always have. I enjoy the challenge and the camaraderie of the workplace and I love to see the money get deposited into my account. I can't help it.

Then, there are my clients. My sweet ladies who trust me with their insecurities. Who show up and I know they are worried that they don't have on the right garment or that they are too heavy or too out of shape to merit hiring a Pilates trainer, of all things. I took that seriously and personally. I was once like them, vulnerable, yet determined to change the status quo of my body and health. I love seeing the struggle and sheer surprise when something is hard, yet they are able to succeed. When my 54-year-old client can pull her overweight torso in to a teaser on the Cadillac, I clap, I can't help myself. I remember the first day I ran for twenty minutes on the treadmill without stopping. I thought I was an athlete. Somebody give me a uniform and put me in the game - I was so confident! With in a year, my fitness trainer talked me into running a full marathon. 5 hours and 26.2 miles later, I laid down and wept at what my body could do, what strength God had revealed to me. My trainer was right, one more squat never killed me, it made me stronger. Not my body, one more squat did little for my legs, but for my mind. Pushing through made me confident. It made me unstoppable and unafraid to push myself beyond my perceived limits.

I have, however, decided to put Pilates on hold until my children are older. I do not want to regret missing this time and experience in their lives that will be gone before I can blink. I want to try my hand at this crazy and impossible job because it has always been a life dream. So here I am, in the throws of "stay-at-home" mom world and I am overwhelmed at the task at hand. My kids are spirited and dynamic and high maintenance and I love every single cell of their bodies, BUT - this is HARD. I am tired. And (like all moms) I need a break. I often look longingly at the list of daycare facilities that lies next to my computer so, I am pretending that I am in training again. Although it is hard, frustrating, seemingly impossible with few results thus far, I must push on. I must break free from my perceived limits and find my unstoppable attitude. One more squat...one more diaper change, one more disastrous trip to Target, one more load of laundry, one more time-out, one more Lego tower, one more pillow fort... I have to trust the pay off will be greater than I can imagine. I am praying for the day when I can lay down and weep at what I was able to do.

Kick me while I'm down, why don't ya!

Yesterday I had my yearly check-up with the ob/gyn. It was at 10:15 in the morning and don't think that I didn't seriously consider slipping some vodka into my orange juice before I went. I get really nervous at the doctor's office, I don't know why either. I have passed out twice before an annual pap smear. TWICE. I know, I'm ridiculous, but take it or leave it. :) In fact, the second time I passed out, the women's nurse practitioner put me on zoloft. She said, "You got some anxiety issues girl." It's funny though, if you know me, I appear laid back and I even feel laid back in most instances. Ah, well - whatever. So, today I prepared before hand. I spent quality time shaving my legs and painting my toenails and what not and I even wrote down my questions on a piece of paper so I wouldn't forget to ask them. This is good, right? I am five minutes early and did not even sweat during the paper work. I am an adult, I am in control. I am a woman, a mom, a professional, I am in control. He delivered my children, for crying out loud, I am in control. My name is called and I am led back to the blood pressure/weigh in section of the office. BP is good and weight, no too bad (I starved all morning anticipating the weigh in). Then I get back to the room and wait, and wait, and wait. Why do they do that? Could I at least stay in the waiting room where there is a better selection of magazines and everything is not so... white? My doctor comes in to the room and shakes my hand - yeah, I totally start sweating. He had just gotten in from a c-section and was a little frazzled as well. He kept asking me about my birth control plans and yet kept referring to my thyroid medicine. I asked, "Can my thyroid medicine prevent me from getting pregnant?" He laughed, what? Yeah, was he confused or was I already losing it? AHH!! Needless to say, I never got to ask my questions that I spent time printing legibly on paper. Oh, well, maybe after the exam. :) So, he leaves, I strip and put on that ridiculously over-sized gown and wait. And wait a little longer. Do they even have the air conditioning on in this place?!!!!! He comes in with the nurse and the tray, and explains to me how to properly perform a breast exam on my self and then has me lay down and shows me. All is normal. HOWEVER, as he is doing this, he explains that I actually may have some cysts, or maybe it was just that there is very little tissue there so he can feel more. WHAT!!!!! ARE KIDDING ME? Did you just medically say that my boobs are small? Everything is getting dark...and narrow...

He was perfectly professional and didn't move one facial muscle as he is explaining all of this to me in a perfectly medical way. But - HE JUST SAID I HAD SMALL BOOBS! I know alright! You try having A cups to begin with, then have two kids back-to-back and breastfeed for like 7 years (only two, but still) and see how your boobs look. The sweat is pouring and I still have the exam part to go. I closed my eyes and tried to talk about summer vacation plans and the latest lunge track in Body Pump and he says, "Are you okay?" I nervously laugh, "I think I have dust in my eyes, its better to close them." He politely laughs.

Ahh, it was finally over and he left so I could get dressed. Okay, I never passed out and it was over, whew! I got dressed as fast as I could and waited for him to return. Thankfully, he got called to a delivery and I was left with the nurse. I grabbed my purse and ran to the check out. "Did I want to make my appointment in advance for next year?" NOOOOOO!!!!!!!

If you can't cry, you laugh.

We are potty training at my house. I mean, sort of. I know people say you should do it in one day and what not, but I think we prefer the marathon style. You know, drag it out for as long as possible, a few tears, some fits of rage, maybe some blood shed, a few stops to stretch, and LOTS of mental strength. In training, we are learning the difference between "tooting" and "pooping" and "teeteeing". Fun times. I have tried to incorporate the number system, Number 1 and Number 2 - but it's just so confusing to Miles. Poor guy, it's a lot of information. The guy just learned to count to 10 on his fingers and now this.

Anyways, we were in the check out line at Target not too long ago, and the lady in front of us passed gas. First of all, yuck. She couldn't hold it? Second of all, Miles was totally impressed.

He said, rather loudly, "Oh, you pooped. Mommy she pooped. Do we need to change it? Maybe she teeteed."

I said, "Shhhh," making my eyes bug out. Then, I tried not to laugh. "Miles, check out this cool gum. Oh look, M&Ms! Do you want to eat some, put them in your mouth?"

"Mommy, she need change it. She pooped."

I whispered forcefully, "Miles, shhhh, she simply tooted. Do you remember how we talked about that?"

"OHHHH, excuse me! Excuse me, I tooted!!" He was laughing hysterically. "I tooted!!"

Now, I am laughing - quietly. I couldn't help it. The lady never turned around and I did buy Miles a sucker and stuck it in his mouth.

Adventures in Bath Time

Bath time at my house is like the ice cream truck driving down the street. Miles starts running around like crazy and collecting all of the toys he would like to bring into the tub with him and Lucy tries to dive head first anytime she sees or hears the water running. It is a total party for them. I have started bathing them together now that she is older and they love the company. Lucy splashes like a champ and it makes Miles laugh so hard. Plus, it saves me a little time. So, the other night, when I was getting them ready to get into the bath tub, I took all of Miles's clothes off and his diaper off. Then I took Lucy's clothes and diaper off and set her in the tub. I tried to get Miles in the tub and I noticed that he was peeing on the bath mat. Ugh! So I say, "No, no, let's tee tee in the potty!" He ran over to it but did not stop peeing so there was a nice trail to the potty where he got about three drops in the bowl. Then, he was dancing around yelling, "I tee tee in the potty! Wahoo!! Look mama, I tee tee in the potty!" So, I joined in and danced around being careful not to step in the tee tee trail before I could clean it up. The whole time I was keeping my eye on Lucy who was splashing away in the tub, then I noticed that she stopped. I looked up and she was pooping in the tub! Ugh!!! This is her favorite thing to do and I am so frustrated about it! At first it was cute, now - not so much. As I stepped over the tee tee trail to get Lucy out of the poop filled water I thought (all at once) of how I was going to have to fish out the poop and put it in the toilet, then clean the tub AGAIN and mop the floor and wash the bath mat and clean Miles's potty and give them another bath - No one tells you about this! :)

Hunt family fun-cation!

Last weekend we took a little trip to Grapevine for "A Day Out with Thomas" (the train). Miles is crazy about Thomas, excuse me, Tommy. They're good friends. We decided to make a little family "fun-cation" out of it since we didn't do much for Spring Break. Of course we signed up late so the only train ride left was the one leaving at 9:00 am on Saturday morning. We took a deep breath and decided, okay, we can do it. So, we signed up, paid the money, etc. Low and behold, Saturday morning it was 30 degrees, windchill of 26. Wow. No refunds, no exchanges or rain checks. What can you but laugh and pull out your snow gear? But, I have to say, the four of us had a really great time. Don't get me wrong, the train ride was a total rip off considering that we stood in line for an hour and then went up the track for about 12-15 minutes passing the lovely waste plant and what I am pretty sure looked like a homeless people compound and then headed back the other way to the station. John and I were laughing at how ridiculous the scenery was and at how Miles was loving every minute of it. They had a silly conductor come out and punch our tickets and do a little dance to the music that came over the loud speaker and he gave high fives. Then at the Grapevine Vintage Railroad station there were all kinds of activities for the kids and tons of train tables set up where they could play and food stands and an outdoor stage where there was live entertainment (we totally skipped that in the 30 degree weather). It was fun. We had no real agenda except to get on the Tommy train at 9:00. We decided to eat at the Rainforest Cafe the night before and do a little shopping at Grapevine Mills. Then, after the Thomas festival we headed to the Galleria to meet my younger brother and his family and do a little more shopping. Then, we all headed to Arlington to my sister Sara's house for a little pizza party. It was so fun to see my siblings and their family on our way through. So, here are some pictures from the weekend. Enjoy!


Here we are at the Rainforest Cafe the night before Thomas Day.





Morning of Thomas Day, 8:00 am.




Miles made some friends on the train ride.


The "really BIG Tommy train" as Miles would say.









My boys!

I WIN!

My sister, Sara, and I often call each other and say, "I win." This means that that person's day has been the hardest and we get to feel sorry for each other and this gives that person the right to vent or cry or laugh or whatever. Today, I win.

Yesterday evening I started to feel a little sick to my stomach. Nothing big, just figured I should sip a sprite and then maybe try to eat something. I often loose track of when I have last eaten, I know that is sad. So, I take a few bites of my black bean burrito (why in the heck did I think that was a good idea?) and decided I better not. I put the kids to bed and clean the kitchen and sit down at the computer. Let me note that John is on spring break mission trip and that my mom had back surgery and is in a brace and can not lift more than five pounds, so I am alone with the kids. Then, my stomach really starts to hurt and I am feeling nauseous and I think, "NO! I just had the stomach bug last week! God, I am sorry for whatever I did." Sure enough, two minutes later the mayhem begins. I spend the rest of the night hovered over the toilet. I did have to stop and be thankful that neither child was up and that I could be alone during all of this. Once when Miles was little and I was pregnant and John was gone, I got the stomach bug and Miles clapped every time I threw up - It was awful. Anyways, I text John at 5:30 in the morning when the throwing up had subsided and told him to come home. Thankfully, the BSM trip is Mission Abilene this year, so he was willing to help out. He comes home and gets the kids dressed and takes them with him to breakfast with all the mission trippers. I try to rest and then take a shower. I thought I was feeling better, but oh no, now the d-word begins. Are you kidding me? Surely there is nothing left. John drops the kids back off and I am trying to pull myself together. Lucy takes a morning nap and Miles is running around hyper b/c he had doughnuts for breakfast. He wakes Lucy up. :) I am cranky because I am so nauseous and the cramping is getting really bad. I change two dirty diapers and run to the bath room to barf in between. I say, "oh shit." Miles says, "oh shit." Ugh! I have got to pull myself together! Then it is time to make lunch. Don't worry, I have been washing hands like crazy! Miles does not want the grilled cheese sandwich I have made for him, of course, but I am not making anything else because I am too sick and I am sort of waiting for his throwing up to begin at any moment. Lucy, on the other hand, eats a whole banana, cheese, whole wheat toast, green beans, whatever she can get her hands on! I run to the bathroom at least twice during lunch and actually throw up during the clean up. UGH! After lunch its nap time but I know that it is going to be brutal. I was right. Neither child will go to sleep and I am on the verge of breaking down so I put them both in Miles's room to play trains and I lay down on his bed. Surely my stomach will calm down soon. Miles is getting rough and Lucy keeps crying and I think, "I'll just drive them around until they fall asleep or until I can get a hold of my self and not hurt them." :) I do and it works, sort of. I get really car sick and way too sleepy and the minute we get home Miles wakes up. Lucy, thankfully, stays asleep. So, I call my sister crying and she says to put on a movie and let Miles chill and for me to lay down. So I do and it helps. Then Lucy is up and needs a bottle and Miles needs a snack and I totally have to throw up again. John shows up and takes Miles to dinner with him and I kept Lucy. Great plan. More cooking of food and more d-word for me. I can't stop the nausea. Lucy eats well and plays well and takes a great bath. Then, I see her stop splashing and start grunting. Are you kidding me?!! Not today! Yep, she totally POOPS IN THE TUB! I run to the toilet and dry heave and cry. :) Okay, I can do this. I of course clean up Lucy and the tub, etc. Then Miles is home and needs a bath (I made it really quick) and I finally get them both to bed. I am still feeling a little nauseous but feel like the worst is over. No signs of sickness from the kids so I am thankful. Seriously, how does this stuff happen when I am alone!