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I Shred

Or would be I shredded, shroud, hm mm, what would the exact term be? Pronunciation aside I pulled by chubby rear out of bed this morning and exercised with that scary fit lady Jillian.  It was HARD.  I cheated... not on all of it, but man that ab work was killer.  

I do not like to think of myself as fat, or even that really bad word, OBESE, like that mean mean Wii Fit tells me I am, just chunky, or as a dear co worker called me this week pleasantly plump.  The bottom line, I need to lose this weight.  I have tried hiding under a varied array of black clothes for about five years now, and I want to wear color again!  

All joking aside I need to lose around 85 pounds.  That would put me at 15o, a healthy weight for me.  So you do the math, and if you are a real life friend make now public acknowledgement of the fact you did the math.  

Now I am off to the hardware store to buy pad locks.  

Have a great weekend!

It is really about the little things

I am an avid blog reader.  I check in with my real Friends blogs, and cyber friend blogs everyday. Sometimes twice.  Some of my March mommy cyber friends I have now "known" since Libby was born.  The funny thing about blogs is that they can really give you an impression of their real life. 

For whatever reason I am also drawn to the blogs of complete strangers.  Many of these complete strangers have something going on in their life.  Usually the sickness of their child.  I read each day and ask the Lord to lift them in prayer.  

Right now I am following www.mycharmingkids.net and her son Stellan.  Go and read for yourself what this little guy has done to change the world in the sixth earthly months he has been here.  I also read the story of Audrey.  Audrey passed to heaven just hours after she was born.   www.audreycaroline.blogspot.com . These two children and countless others that I have read about over the years have taught me more about God's grace and the miracles he performs in this world than I could ever learn in church.  I remember some of these children's names like they are old friends.  Allie Scott, Ben Bowen, Emerald Mayes, Cheyene Fivash.  

In the real world I have a dear friend who's home was destroyed in a fire last week. We had a friend call today and his mom was diagnosed with colon cancer.  I spent the afternoon arguing with my husband.  

Life is such a gift.  I need reminded of it often.  I spent last night stewing because the dishes needed done, and the laundry needed done, and snack needed to be made, and none of it had been done.  Yet, all across the world there are simple reminders that we could miss of how God is working.  We are definitely part of a bigger plan.  Even if you do not believe in God, I think we could all agree that there is some higher power with a hand in all of this.  

The moral of the story... Don't sweat the small stuff. 

It must be something about the green shirt

Time: 3:15 am

Location: my street

I am trying to understand what happens on the first warm night of the year on my block that compels families to bring there domestic disputes outside in the middle of the night.  I like to think I am reasonable person, but nothing grinds my gears more that being woke out of a dead sleep by complete strangers sparring over their problems.  As I type this there is a cop, no check that, two cop cars parked outside my house because this people can not be normal and fight inside.  I did not call them this time.  I figure I better save those calls up for the really important stuff, I need FOP support for my campaign. 

Last summer we had some people two doors up that were prone to this.  They would sit outside and drink to the wee hours of the morning, and then fight.  These people actually scared me because it was often physical.  When it turned to that I would just call the cops and turn on the fans loud enough so it would not wake up the kiddo.  In June last year they were arguing in their back yard, she left, and the huge dog they had proceed to howl for thirty or so minutes.  I had had enough.  Being the middle of the night, and being in my obviously now special green t shirt that must give me super powers, I marched out back in nothing but the t shirt.  Yes, that it right folks, the t shirt and panties, and proceed to yell at this guy.  I do not even remember what I said, but I can tell you that it used several expletives in combinations that may or not exists in real slang.  (I normally do not cuss.... )  Needless to say the guy started coming over the fence toward me.  I ran in house and called 911!  

Tonight I am awoke by loud slams, and people yelling.  It took me a minute to get my bearings.  Then a car sped off.  I remembered the car, as it belongs to the kid we call Puggsley Addams (real name unknown, he and his sister looked like the kids from the Addams family when we moved in....) I thought he was in the army, and gone. Apparently not.  I gave it about five minutes to quiet down.  It did not.  I marched my self outside, and proceeded to yell up the block that they needed to be quiet, they woke my entire family, and that I was going to call the cops.  The funny part is, they actually heard me, and the adult of the situation told the girl who was still shrieking to quiet down because the neighbors were yelling out them.  I will point out that I do have shorts, and a bra on for that matter this time around.  

I truly believe that normal people keep their fights inside their house.  Just because it is above 55` at night I do not care that your baby momma has a drinking problem, that you are cheating on each other, or anything else for that matter.  Why people, WHY?

I have been asking Mike for years for a spot light, red laser pointer pen, and one of those amplified mega phone things.  For whatever reason he never gets those things for me.  Maybe I will market the neighborhood control kit for angry housewives!  I also have thought those night vision goggles from the toy department would be helpful too, I think they are called the bionic eye.  If nothing else works out in life for me I could at least be the neighborhood patrol.

It is now 4:00 am and all is quiet.  My adrenaline is down. Maybe I can get four good hours of sleep before it is time to start my day!  My green shirt and I are going back to bed. 

Because I am that mom!

Libby and Mommy at the last regular season game of the CBJ!  Stanley Cup here we come.

This is the same child that used to have naturally curly hair....

Prayers for the unemployed

I try not to take for granted that during this long time of unemployment for Mike that God has TAKEN care of us.  Our bills are paid, there is food on our table, and clothes on our backs.  There are so many in our situation who do not have the same fate.  

But, I am human, completely imperfect in so many ways.  This week I have been home on spring break.  I can joke and be light hearted, but I tell you, two adults being in this house all of time is hard.  I long for our old life back, as I am sure Mike does too.  I am looking forward to my last six weeks of the school year!

So join with me prayer for my dear, dear, husband, and all of the other mothers, fathers, sisters, and brothers that have found themselves in this unfortunate situation that things change for all of them soon.... I found these on our church's national website yesterday when looking for guidance....

Heavenly Father, we remember before you those who suffer want and anxiety from lack of work. Guide the people of this land so to use our public and private wealth that all may find suitable and fulfilling employment, and receive just payment for their labor; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

 (Anglican Book of Common Prayer)

O God, the Creator of all things, you have made us in your own image so that we may find joy in creative work: have mercy on all those who are unemployed, and those who find their work dull, especially for ___MIKE____. Help us to build a society where all may have work and find joy in doing it, for the good of our world and the glory of your name, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

O Saint Joseph, we pray to you for those who are out of work, for those who want to earn their living or support their families.

You who are the patron of workers, grant that unemployment may vanish from our ranks; that all those who are ready to work may put their strength and abilities in serving their fellowmen and earn a just salary.

You are the patron of families; do not let those who have children to support and raise lack the necessary means. Have pity on our brothers and sisters held down in unemployment and poverty because of sickness or social disorders. Help our political leaders and captains of industry find new and just solutions. May each and every one have the joy of contributing, according to his abilities, to the common prosperity by an honorable livelihood. Grant that we may all share together in the abundant goods God has given us and that we may help underprivileged countries. Amen.

I need to get myself together!

I have found that I have let things fall apart.  On a huge sense.  And it is driving me crazy.  

I wish that I was one of those super house keepers, but I am just not.  I have tried Internet groups, making lists, etc....  I knew things were close to rock bottom tonight when even my silverware draw is a mess.   This disorganization translates into every part of my life.  Today, when Lib flooded the toilet for the second time in a week I couldn't find extra towels to clean up... I could go on and on.  For quite some time I internally blamed by (house) husband for this.  "He is home everyday" he can take care of it, but he did not.  

My goals this week...

Sunday: Silverware  UPDATE! Done, but I did discover I need new liner paper stuff.

Monday: Underneath Sink

Tuesday: The cabinet over the commode

Wednesday:  The Laundry (realistically this could take two days)

Thursday: The Fridge

Friday:  This is a Holy Day, we are going to church and to Mike's parents!

As I sit here and drink yet another Coke, this is another goal this week.  I need to cut back to one a day.  The one I am drinking now is number 4 for Sunday.  I HAVE A PROBLEM!  I can not even imagine what drug addicts go through if I can not even get off the Coca Cola.  

So, I will update this week.  Hopefully something gets done.  

On on prayers front, keep them coming.  We still have not heard anything back, but we are optimistic that God will start providing Mike with a good opportunity soon. 

Thoughts and Prayers

Okay folks, our family needs some prayers, good thoughts, vibes, whatever it is you do.  

No one is sick or anything like that.  We have the potential for something good to happen!  

Thanks for remembering us!

How does your garden grow?

We spent most of the day out today getting some new seeds and working in the yard.  I finally wised up this year and had Mike save our used egg crates for planting.  I am  hoping these, along with the actual seed starting mix and the sunlight from my classroom windows helps these babies grow! 

This is the first year I have ever tried starting flowers for around the house from seed.  We picked out Larkspur and Baby's Breath for the flower beds out front, and some Shasta Daisy's for a couple of places in the back.  I am really hoping they take off, but if not I am only out around $3.00.  I love going to the green house, but with money being so tight I thought I would give it a try. 

I love heirloom seeds.  We have yellow and purple tomatoes this year and cucumbers.  There seems to be something more special about a yellow tomato!  This is also the first year we have tried onions.  Libby also picked out this neat sunflower fort thing... now we just need to figure out were to plant it.

In a greater effort to keep track of our progress I am going to used the blog to log growth.  

Enjoy this sunny spring weather!

Two years....

Today marks two years.  Two years since I have touched my moms fuzzy bald head, since I have heard her voice.  Two years....

The only thing that makes this easy is that I know she is living cancer free eternity in the heavenly kingdom and that I to will see her again some day.  

I miss her, a lot.  The tears stream down my face as I type this.  You are suppose to grow old with your spouse, but I always imagined growing old with my mom.  Libby and I talk a lot about growing old together.   

I will end this post with a narration of this day two years ago.  

                My hand touched the broken doorknob on the storm door like it had countless times before.  This time was different.  I was not in control of my hand.  An automatic response had taken over.  As my body was going through the actions my mind was in a completely different place.  I walked over the threshold into the living room.  The smell of stale urine and sickness filled my nostrils.  The sound of my sister weeping filled my ears.  I had prepared myself for this moment for seven months.  I had rehearsed the scene in my head over and over again deciding how I would react.  Now that I was living in the moment all I could allow myself was to stare.

                I walked over to the hospital bed.  My sister continued to weep, loud hiccuping sobs coming from deep within her.  “I’m sorry I didn’t wake up in time,” she choked out over and over again.  I reached out for my mother’s hand.  It was warm.  My heart filled with hope for a moment as I stared at her chest.  I was allowing myself to see it move.  I moved my hand to her wrist feeling for a pulse.   I knew then it was over.  I laced my fingers through hers and sat on the edge of the bed.

                I do not know how long I sat there.  It seemed like hours, but I know it could have only been a  minutes.  I could not take my eyes from her.  The fuzz that covered her head was sticking up like newborns after they first enter the world.  Her face was swollen and from months of steroid use.  Her eyes were closed.  Dark blue and gray shadows encircled them from months waging a war within her body and mind.  I reached out to touch her face.   She was so completely still.  If I would not have known the truth, I would have thought she was asleep.  

                The silence was replaced by the front and rear doors opening at the same time.  Two nurses and my father converged upon the cramped living room.  My dad boomed, “Well?”  One nurse used her stethoscope to listen to my mother’s chest as the other nurse comforted my sister.  “She’s gone,” the nurse said.   My sister cried harder, my dad left the room; I took my place at the head of her bed.  We all stood in silence.  I felt like I should be crying or angry, just feeling something, anything.  I could not. 

My dad came back into the house, not crying, but angry.  “She was awake at six o’clock when I left for work.  How did this happen so quickly?”  I suddenly remember feeling so aware that she was all alone when she died.  It was not part of my plan.  I was supposed to be there holding her hand, helping her move on to the next place.  I was suddenly  overcome with a sense of betrayal that my plans were not playing out the way I had intended.                

                The nurses donned plastic gowns and prepared to bathe my mom.  My feet would not allow me to move from the head of the bed.  Like a guard watching my post, I did not move.  They filled a yellow basin with warm water.  They undressed her and covered her with a quilt covered in pink ribbons.   The carefully washed her from head to toe.  When they were washing her legs, I could not take my eyes from the blue and purple mottled spots that covered them. 

My mom’s closest friend arrived while they were bathing her.  No one had called her.  She knew that she needed to come .   Her friend asked to put lotion on her.  I watched as one last gift of kindness was shared as she tenderly rubbed lotion onto her body.   The nurses dressed her in a new blue nightdress that I had purchased the week before.  They had to cut the back open to fit over her now stiff head that was determined to stay tilted to her right shoulder.  Once they were finished, they covered her with the afghan that had once been my great grandmother’s.  They placed her hands together over the blanket.  She now looked like every other dead person that I had ever seen; only she was my mom.

                For the next hour family came in the house as we waited for the staff of the  funeral home to arrive.  Her brother and sister-in-law, her great aunt, and her stepmother sat with her, held her hand, and somberly said their goodbyes.  My father has never been an affectionate man, but he stood next to me and rubbed the top of her nearly bald head for a long time. 

                The black hearse pulled into the driveway.   As the two men walked to the house, a wave of amusement bubbled within me.  Life is a series of occurrences, some of them memorable, some not.  The man that had come to collect my mother’s body was the same boy that I had shared my first kiss with in school yard fifteen years before.   I wanted to ask him if he was as struck by the oddity of it as I was.  I did not though.  It would have not been appropriate.  

                The men moved her from the bed to the gurney.  The sound of the zipper made my stomach churn.  My dad had to leave the room.  He asked them not to cover her face.  I watched them place her body in the back of the hearse and drive off.  As quickly as everyone came into the house, they left.  I was completely alone, and she was gone. 

Raising a Christian Child in a not so Christian World....

Little Lady and I ventured up to the local school this bright and sunny afternoon for some girls only play time.  I desperately needed the break from paper writing (what I should be doing right now) and it was a beautiful day to play outside. 

The first encounter was with a neighbor/long time family friend that lives the next block up from us.  She and her two kiddos were also going.  Her two kids were taking their Nintendo DS's with them to play while they were playing outside.  Now Little Lady just got her very own pink DS from her Pawpaw for her birthday.  This, and whether I feel she needs it or not will be a post for a later date.  While the DS is a lot of fun, I strongly feel that video games need to be limited.  1/2 hour per day is the rule, unless it is the Wii Fit and it is too yucky for outside playing.  I know that is even a lot for some families.  Little Lady does not understand why these kiddos get to play DS and she does not.  

So we get to the school.... there were a lot of kids there, little kids, no parents.  We play together.  She wants to play on the jungle gym area.  This is were things go down hill.  These little kids are fighting.  Not play fighting, but aggressive physical fighting... kicking, hitting, throwing rubber mulch in each other's faces.  Now usually I would be the first to say something.  There were four adults near by cheering one of the kids on to "beat his a**"  Needless to say I suggested we play in a different area and then lectured her about how we do not ever say the words we just heard and how it is never okay to fight.  A few minutes later we go back to the area as most the kids have moved on.  Imagine how appalling it was to hear a 12/13 year old young lady tell a 2/3 little girl to do her "b***** walk", and then to hear the near by parents use the f word in ways I never thought imaginable.  At this point we decided to go home. 

Now, I am not saying that I never curse, I have, and sometimes I do.  Never in front of, within ear shot, or at my child.  

We feel very strongly about our conservative beliefs.  Being a Christian does not mean to use trying to convert everyone to our beliefs, but more being kind people, and teaching Little Lady to be a kind person.  I may not succeed everyday at being the best Christian I can be, but I do try.  

Little Lady asked me why people use such bad words, "you know mommy words worser than fat, and shut up, and stupid"  She asked permission to say those.  The best explanation I could give her was that because they did not know better words to use.  We then talked about how important reading is so we can learn new words to use.  

What concerns me more is this the very same school she will attend next year.  I know I just need to get over myself.  I am very nervous about taking her out of the Christian environment she has been in for the last three years and thrusting her into this new place.  At this time we have no other choice.   

To finish this post I am going to use the template my weekly planner has in it:

Blessing this week: A healthy smart newly six year old little girl.

Need this week: Hubby to find suitable gainful employment.

Praise this week: The bills are paid.

No, I have not fell off the face of the earth....

I have been busy, but I thank God each day that I am not idle.  I would be in trouble if I was idle, then I would have an excuse to put away the three story mountain of laundry giving me the evil eye from the laundry room.  

I have three papers to type in the next two weeks.  I may be a little out of it during that time.  The good thing is I have all of my report cards ready to go for the end of this week.  They seemed worse than the laundry and papers combined.  I am ready for this part of the school year to be over with.  

My real thoughts tonight are about making do.  The economy is bad, yak cough yak, unemployment is at its highest in the last 25 years,  yes I know my husband has been home for NINE MONTHS NOW, etc etc etc... I could be doom and gloom and go on for hours. 

The real problem in my opinion is that we Americans are unable to just make do.  We want more, more, more.  I will be the first to admit that was very caught up in that life style.  I only wanted brand name clothes,  the kid only wore Gymbo,  I needed to present an image.  Well it is just that an image.  I am learning that real people and real friends do not care where you live, what you drive, and about what you wear.  Maybe I am trying to rationalize this in my head so bear with me.  

We have made do with one car since July.  It can be done.  It is not easy but we make do.  We only buy clothes when we really need them.  I am proud to say the last time I did get myself something it serves a dual purpose of work and casual and it was on clearance at the mother land, i.e. Old Gravy.  I get textbooks from the public library.  

You know what, it feels good.  It feels good to not try to keep up with the Jones'.  It feels good to just be us.  We are in the process of making some new friends and shedding some old ones and that feels good too.  

So, I thank God each day that our bills are paid, we have a house and car, food in our tummies and clothes on our backs.  I know that the Father will provide work for Mike when he sees fit or lead us to new opportunities.  

The art of multitasking.

Today in one of my political science classes I was sitting next to a rather interesting girl.  First and foremost she was wearing an over sized sweater and leggings.  I can remember when this was in style for the first time.  Maybe it is my post child pooch or my tree stump length legs, but this is a style I am not eager to repeat, ever.  It was cute in the late eighties,  I am just not into this time around.  

I am sitting in my crapped seat taking notes the old fashioned way.  Pen and Paper.  I notice that she is making faces.  Faces that include sticking your fingers in the sides of your mouth, pulling it open, and sticking your tongue out.  She is video chatting.... Curious, I begin to follow what she is doing.  Not only is she video chatting, she has two other chat conversation boxes open, and she is taking notes, and she is texting on her phone.  I am in awe.  All of this technology.... that did not exist ten years ago, my first time around.  I admire her multitasking abilities, but I question whether she is able to truly learn while doing so many things.  Yet, that is the difference,  I am there to learn.  I already have a husband, a kid, a job, all of the things that these guys have yet to experience.  

I took a technology class last spring that was meant to teach teachers how to use technology in their classrooms.  I hate to face it but I, nearly 30, am light years behind what students are able to do now.  Our kids are growing up with computers.  I only can imagine what it will be like when the kiddo goes off to Athens.  (She has already decided, and apparently I am to move there with her.  I am not sure were this leaves Mike, or any future kiddos we have :))

So any way, funky girl in class, good for you.  I am doing good to get out of the house each morning with my head in tact. 

And a final note, I have been blogging a lot about this non traditional Athens experience.  My final note on age is when we were talking about 9/11 today most of them mentioned they were 12 or 13.  I got married two weeks after 9/11. 

Overwhelmed and Aggrivated....

For anyone who really knows me, they know I have serious time management issues.  Well we are reaching the end of the quarter and for the first time I can say "IT IS NOT MY FAULT". 

I have been assigned a group project for one of my Athens classes.  Now, I have know about this project since the beginning of the quarter,  I started asking the prof about three weeks ago, and he just gave us the assignment and groups this last week.  My group of slightly just past the pubescent stage boys decided it was too hot to work in the lecture hall... they wanted to meet at nine that night.  Folks, I am in my pj's by nine pm.  They then got a little mad when I said I couldn't meet then.  I was supposed to get an email, yet today is Sunday, and no email had arrived.  I took the pleasure of emailing them!  I am sure they will love me by the time this is done.  

I also have two other papers due within the next three weeks.  That is nearly forty pages.  Oy vey.  I have every thing started, but I am having a little pity party for myself.  

To end on a positive note, we did get out today.  We tried to go the the Tarlton Cross Mound,  but the park was closed, so we went to Slate Run Historical farm.  It was fun and quiet.  

Later. 

An oped letter to the lady at Target last night...

Dear Mam,

I realize that you remember us from the times that we went to church with my mom before she passed away.  I know that my mother's courage, spirit, and fight inspired you as she battled cancer.  I am sure that you really did mean well last night when you saw us at Target and proceeded to hug my daughter, who had know idea who you were, and then burst into tears because "you knew" how much my mom would have loved her....

What you did not know is that yesterday was my mom's birthday.   I had been really proud that I had been able to make it through the day without being a blubbering mess of tears.  I am actually proud of each yearly milestone I make without letting grief over take my life.  Then as I comforted you in Target I was reminded of each of those very things.  

What you did not know is that my little girl has not survived a week at school this year without tears for her Nan.  The weekly discussions I have with her compassionate and caring teacher who understands and is helping us work through these tears with nothing but love.  

I appreciate you hashing up all of these dark things on what had finally been a good week for us.  I know you really meant well, but I just wanted to knock you out in the check out line.  If you were oblivious enough to think that I do not think about my mom each and everyday and how much she would still love Libby then shame on you.  Love does not end at death.  I know that my mom still loves us everyday.  Just because she has gone to the next place does not mean that love has ended.  

So, friendly Christian lady at Target, think next time before you speak, and cry. You may have thought about my mom when you saw us, but we think about her every single day.  

Happy birthday mom.... we miss you. 

Shhh, I am hiding

Do you ever just have one of those days where you long to be alone? 

I have a headache, some mild PMS, and we have been out of our routine too long.

So here I sit, it my bed, with my computer, asking God for his forgiveness for actions that I may commit if I hear my daughter yell in her high pitched whiny voice "DADDY" one more time, or if I hear him antagonize her to make her yell this.  If the dog barks one more time, or if the bleeping people ( I try to keep this G rated) across the street make their tires make whatever sound it is when you are too lazy to shovel the snow ruts out before trying to leave your house.  

Seriously folks a girl just needs some peace and quiet every ninety days or so.  

Oh, and Beth, tell your husband he better follow through and come get my husband Thursday and take him away from this house, or so help me he will feel my wrath too. 

Now I must report they are outside throwing snowballs at my bedroom window... I am trying to do some homework people!

Sorry, you have been lead down this diatribe.  I will go back to my homework now.  I think I may need to be sent to my room for the rest of the day though. 

Tales of Motherhood

This post may strike a nerve with some, so I offend, please ignore. 

I ask myself often why women, mothers attack are so very opinionated towards the two sects.  The working, and the non working.  I have done both,  I have stayed home, I have worked, and I have just worked part time.  Right now I have a full time schedule.  

The question I am pondering today is why they attack each other.  I will prelude this by stating the fact that since I chose to go back to school, that when and if we have any more children I will be a working mom.  I made the choice to take out loans, it is not my husband's responsibility to pay them back.  

Instead of the focus being on who works and who does not should it not be about the real time you spend with your children.  I have a friend who stays home.  This person really does not spend much time with their child.  Their day is spent running from activity to store.  I have a friend who works, a lot.  When she gets home she wants time to herself.  I do not see how one is better than the other, yet inevitably they will make comment about each other.  

I guess my point is one day when my daughter is grown, she will not remember when I worked and when I did not, but the time that I invested in her.  The hours we have played dolls,  read stories under the covers, shared memories and hopes, and just enjoyed the company of each other.  

Whether you work or not enjoy your children....

You know that you are too old..

for college when you start thinking things like this. 

1. You want to scold the person in class behind you for talking while the professor is.  Not because it is bothering you, but because it is rude. 

2. That girl, with the lace finger tip gloves does not know that Madonna made them popular in the 1980's because she was not born yet. 

3. You feel the urge to yank the pants of the boy walking down the sidewalk in front of you because they rest around the bottom of his butt. 

4. You then wonder if he has to do anything when he uses the restroom because his pants are so low. 

5.  When you have to cover up the gray hair to camouflage how old you actually are. 

6. You don't care that you are not in style.  (Back in the day it was black "sorority girl pants" now it is Uggs. 

7. When your professor asks you for the third time when you are moving to Athens.

8. When you park in a parking garage and use escalators to avoid walking outside uphill both ways in the snow.

Okay, that is all I can think of for now.  

In other news the flu arrived this week like a brick wall.  Libby was sick, now Mike is.  I am hoping that I have been exposed to it so much that my tiredness and mild aches are going to be the worst of it for me.  

In the mean time I am going to enjoy the rest of the snow day, and suck up to my hubby, because I am a bad wife. 

Weight Watchers Update!

After nearly three weeks on WW I have lost seven pounds. Oddly, I feel heavier right now...

I am still struggling with getting any workout other than walking to classes into my life. I had one person say you just have to make the commitment to be away from your kids one more hour of the day. You know what, I am not willing. I am barely home as it is!

My goal within the next week is to cut out the junk food cravings, and to start getting up just a little bit earlier to work out.

Wish me luck :0)

Daily life...

Well, did I not tell you I was going to be busy?  

School is going.  Not good or bad, just a lot of work.  I enjoy the drive to Athens as it equates some alone time that I desperately need after being at work and Mike being at home for an unmentionable amount of months now.  I know he is thankful when we leave each morning too!

The thing is, in Athens, I am very old.   I have never been made to feel unworthy of my college education or less of a student because of my age until going down there.  I have one professor who makes it a practice of saying things like "when you grow up", "when you have a real job", "none of you have kids, do you...".  Although I know he does not know any better, it just rubs me the wrong way.  I will be thirty years old when I graduate.  So what, who cares, at least I went back.   To many people say they want to, but then never do.  I am proud that I have stuck with it.  

In other news I am pretty sure that I am going to run for city council for our ward.  If I decide to, this blog will become by invite only.  I consider this my journal, and I am flattered that many of you take the time to read.  You can email at g a r b r a n d t  at columbus. rr. com (without those spaces) I will send you an invite when and if the time comes.  

I want to run because A. I am tired of our current ward leadership.  He has been in for a while and you never hear much from him.  When Mike and I contacted him last spring it was his wife who called us back, and another councilman, a friend, who ending up helping us out.  And B. because to quote our almost president, it is time for change.  Lanc. is very old boys club,  I think a little youth may help!

We have been home for five days now.  Thursday, I had class, Friday I was sick, Saturday Mike's parents came down and we went to a birthday party, yesterday we went sledding, and today we went to see Hotel for Dogs, but it was sold out so we saw Bedtime Stories.  It has been fun, but I am ready to get back to the grind.  Only eight more weeks left of winter quarter!