Wanna REALLY piss me off?

1.  Turn my power off when I'm in the middle of curling my hair

2. Throw "Tang", a black-out window curtain panel, and a baby onesie that says "I love Grandma"  in my grocery cart when I'm not looking and make me wait til we get home to notice it.

3. Shrink in the dryer

4. Continue to think I'm 22 years old..... and treat me like it.

5. Put milk back in fridge with 1/4 cup left

6. Whip a  "See and Say" across the living room and allow it to slam into the wall.

7.  Ask me what time it is on a clock with only roman numerals.

8. Try to change your American History essay question answer AFTER I've graded it and then tell me I graded it wrong.

9. Ask me if I've "been saved"

10. Assume my house is spotless, my kids never misbehave, and I'm always happy.

11. Tell me that you are going to "row up" every 15 minutes because you think it's funny when I panic.

12. Open the washer in the middle of a cycle.

13. Break (4) times while I'm writing my name. (mechanical pencil)

14. Schedule a jewelry show but never have any intention of actually having it.

15. Ask me if Pepsi is OK when I ordered a Coke

16. Tell me you are vegan

17. De-pants me while we are on a play date when I'm not wearing any underwear.... and laugh hysterically

18.  Call me from Wisconsin 16 times a day and never leave a message

19. Say "Ok.... now we are gonna play a little game" at a bridal shower or baby shower.

What will I say to them..... about bullying?

The other day while I was reading the newspaper facebook, I stumbled upon a friends post that made me pay attention.

It was about bullying and how her daughter was being subjected to it and how she was reacting/responding to it.

I read through the whole post and all the comments.

My heart broke for the girl who was being bullied, for her mom (my friend), and for the people commenting who stated "I know how you feel", "We have dealt with the same issue", "My daughter has the same problem".

It got me thinking.... What will I tell Leo and Cece when this happens to them? What will I actually say? What approach will I take? How will I tackle this issue?

I started focusing my attention toward Cece mainly, if I'm being honest.

I don't know first hand how boys deal with bullying. But I do know first hand what it's like to experience it as a girl.

Of course I will talk to both my kids if when they come to me and want advise or support, but I'm mainly gonna focus on Cece for this specific issue for now.

Toby is also gonna have to start thinking about how he will react when the kids (especially Leo) come to him with the same issues. (Toby.... get thinking... it WILL happen. And when it does, we have to be prepared!! We can't go into this blind! We've got to have a plan! We've got to have a goal! )

WHAT WILL I SAY TO THEM ABOUT.....

BULLYING
Gosh.... this is gonna SUCK.

The day Cece comes to me, crying, saying that the kids at school are being mean to her or saying things to her that are not true or calling her names or not inviting her to the birthday party or not including her in conversations at the lunch table or spreading rumors about her...,.. my heart will break. I promise. Especially if she cries.. cause she will.... cause she is tenderhearted.

I'll first hug her.... hard. And kiss her cheek and tell her how much I love her. I'll say that "this too shall pass" and "it will get better". I will promise her this, because I know this.

Next, I will look at her... in her beautiful, sometimes blue, sometimes green eyes, and tell her that.....

I WANT NAMES!

I want specific names of the bastards that are talking smack and I will kick their asses. That's right... KICK. THEIR. ASSES.

Ok... maybe not. The above will  be what I will be thinking.  It will be what I will want to do, but know I can't.

That wouldn't be setting a good example, now would it?

I guess what I would start off wit, h is to ask her what exactly is going on. Get all the details. What did they say/do? Why do you think they are saying that? Where did this information come from?  When did you hear it/ when did it happen?

Next, I may ask her how is makes her feel. Really feel. Mad? Sad? Betrayed? Disappointed? Surprised? Small? Weak? Unimportant?

Another thing that I will be sure that I ask her.... in the nicest way possible.... is

"Do you think you have done ANYTHING (anything at all)  that would have slightly caused this to be done/said toward or about you?"

I am in NO WAY saying that whatever was said or done was earned, necessary, or deserved. And I will be sure to emphasize that when I ask her this question.

But I feel it is important to be aware of your own actions, your tone, your attitude, and your body language and how others may precieve them.

Is there a small chance that maybe you said something that could have been taken the wrong way?

Is there a small chance that maybe you did something that may have been offensive? Even if you did not intend it to be.

Usually, if you are working with a legit "bully", there will be no reason for any of the asshole-ish behavior. That's the beauty of bullies. They need no reason.

But sometimes...... something you may consider to be "bulling" could just be a reaction to something that you did or said that was miscommunicated or misinterpreted.

This part of the conversation will just remind her that she always needs to be aware of what she's putting out there for others to hear, see, and assume. Don't focus on what people think so much... just be aware of how it looks from an outsider.

My last and final approach will be my parental advise or my suggested solution...depending on the situation. I will comfort her, reassure her, build her up and tell her.....

"They are jealous".

 I'll talk to her about jealous people... why they are jealous and how being jealous can eat someone up inside and cause them to do mean and ugly things.... because THEY are unhappy. Because THEY are missing something in their life that they wish they had.

 I will tell her that feeling jealous is one of the worst feelings in the world and what she should do is pray for them.

Pray that God helps them achieve whatever it is that is making them jealous.

Ask God to spend a little extra time on them and help get rid of the green monster within them.

Look at them with  grace and smile at them..... smile because you feel sorry for them.

And remember that no matter what it is that they are saying to you or about you..... its not  really about you at all . Its all about them and their feelings about themselves.

I'll also may tell her to......

 "Kill them with Kindness".

This is advise my mom has given me for as long as I can remember.

 I've used it.

 It works.

I still use it today.

It still is working.

When people are being...... assholes.... just be as nice as you can to them. Not only will it confuse the hell outta them, but the hope is that it will make them feel like a complete dirtbag for being mean in the first place. Get it? 


Anyway... some people have a hard time doing this. Maybe its because they are too hard headed or too defensive or too strong willed. And not that there is anything wrong with that.  Some people may refer to this as "ass kissing". But if you are woman enough to take what is being said, swallow it, look past it, smile, and continue to be your sweet self that you know you are......that says a lot about you and your character.

"Ass kissing" is different. Usually "ass kissers" try too hard and are usually looking for something in return. They are usually pretending to be someone they are not.

"Killing assholes people with kindness" is basically telling them that you are not going to let their negativity, harshness, rudeness, and judgmental comments/statements affect you. You know who you are. You know what is true and not true. Let it go and don't hold it against them. They don't know any better anyway.  ("Bless their heart")

Continue being yourself. Continue to be kind, respectful, polite, and show grace.

 I'm not inferring that you be their BFF and invite them places and do things for them and share your lunch with them and start up conversations with them or even make an effort to be their friend.

But you can still be nice.

There is a quote that says, "Live in such a way that if someone talked bad about you, no one would believe it." I would tell her to try her best to make that statement true. Throw kindness everywhere you go and no one will have a reason to be a jerk to you.

If none of the above seem like good solutions to the specific problem she is upset about, I will tell her this:

"Try your best to rise above it."

Hold your head up high.

Learn from it.

Put your chin up, but don't believe it.

Stay true to yourself and who you are and defend yourself if necessary. Verbally and physically.

Speaking of self-defense..... Always defend yourself verbally. Always.,

 But, ONLY defend yourself physically if someone put their hands on you FIRST.

 NEVER, never, put your hands on someone. Ever.........  Unless they hurt your first.

That is THE ONLY time you will ever be "allowed" to put your hands on someone else in a negative way.

Don't ever be the first one to throw the first punch, push the first shove, smack the first face, pull the first strand of hair.




And that's it. The rest is up to her.

To summarize, this is my "plan" or my "script" for when this moment happens.

1. Love on her and console her.
2. Get all the facts/details.
3. Ask her how exactly she feels.
4. Ask her if there is a slight chance she may have contributed to this problem.
5. Give a solution.... They are just jealous or kill them with kindness or simply rise above it.
6. Defend yourself.... always verbally; sometimes physically.

I hope I am prepared for this day.

I probably wont be.

But I guess thinking about it in advance can't hurt.

Someone Once Told Me....

Every situation has a phrase.

A phrase that I think about that helps put things in perspective.

Maybe it was something I learned from my mother when I was growing up.

Maybe it was something I was told by someone else.

Maybe it's something I read somewhere.

Regardless, these quotes, motto's, sayings, phrases....... they always seem to help me out when I'm  presented with different situations.

Here are a few of my "go-to's"

1. "This too shall pass"

2. "Never work harder than your students"

3. "Its only money"

4. "They wont be little forever"

5.  "Everyone has their own story" or "Everyone is fighting their own battle"

6. 'Treat others the way you want to be treated"

7. "People will forget what you did. People will forget what you said. But they will never forget how you made them feel"

8. "True character is what you do when no one is looking"

9. "We are in no hurry"

10. "Life. You get one"

11. "Actions speak louder than words"

12. "There is no 'I' in team"

13. "Choose your battles"

14. "If you wanna be somebody. If you wanna go somewhere. You gotta wake up and pay attention."

15. "Wanna make God laugh? Tell him your plans."

16. "I can do all things through God, who strengthens me."

17. "Everything happens for a reason"

18. "Life is short."

19. "Your children are always watching"

20. "Don't eat lunch in the teachers lounge"

21. "Kill 'em with kindness"

22. "It is what it is"

23. "Go with your gut"

24. "A mother always knows"

25. "I love you more"

26. "The end is only the beginning. People just don't know it at the time"

27. "Strangers are just family you have yet to meet"

28. "You can do anything for a year"

Mile Marker.

I completed my 3rd half marathon last weekend.

I'm still recovering.

I didn't train.... at all.,... and that is defiantly in the "TOP 3 stupidest things I've ever done in my life" list!

 (the other 2 things involve a tarzan rope, country concert, and a hammer.)

One of the best lessons I learned from completing this half marathon is this:

"Always train for a half marathon."

Profound, I know. 





My body is so pissed at me right now and I don't blame it. I put it through hell and back.

Around mile 9 I started to re-consider even attempting the half marathon..... but then realized that option had already come and gone and here I was out in the middle of a corn field surrounded road, staring at road kill up close and personal.

A rabbit? Maybe.

My left foot started hurting around mile 2, but that was because my sock had scooted  down a bit and the back of my shoe was rubbing against my Akeley's tendon.

I put up with it for a few more miles and then I eventually just stopped dead in my tracks, yanked my sock up, rolled my eyes, and continued on my merry way...... what a waste of 30 seconds.

Sidenote: waiting until mile 5 to pull up my sock was really dumb. Now I've got an annoying broken blister that hurts anytime something touches it. Water, a sock, a shoe, a dog's lick, a toddler's finger, air....  Anyway- it could have been prevented. Moving on...

Other than my sock issue, I felt good. I started off with a 5 min warm up and after that I started into the interval I thought would be an easy, leisurely pace.... 2 minute run, 3 minute walk, 2 minute run, 3 minute walk, 2 minute run, 3 minute walk.... for 13.1 miles.

Let me back up and talk about my 5 minute warm up just for a second...

 I ALWAYS start with a warm up.

Always.

 It's hard to keep your composure when literally EVERYONE starts off in a dead sprint as soon as the gun fires. It's so dang intimidating! It's almost like the Black Friday rush, but not as bad. Any race that I'm in... 5K, 10K, half marathon..... they always start the same. Everyone bolting and leaving a cloud of dust behind them.

And then there is me.

I take the slow and steady mindset. I like to start out walking.  Yeah, I may be behind in the beginning.... or dead last... but as soon as my warm up is over, I start into my running interval and that's when I breeze past all the others who decided to sprint the first 1/2 mile.

Suckers.

Anyway, there is always "the guy".

"The guy" at the beginning of EVERY RACE I've ever participated in.

"The guy" who is not running, but is on the outside of the race barriers, watching.

"The guy" who always has a smartass comment. THE EXACT SAME smartass comment everytime.

"The guy" who says this.....

"You're walking already?!?! haha"

I wish you could hear the tone in which I hear "this guy's" voice in my head. You are going to have to be creative and make up one for yourself.

 It reminds me of the looney toon character that says, "Duhhhhhh which way did he go, George? Which way did he go?"














Dumbass.

Eventually, I started hurting. I felt good stamina wise, but my legs started getting stiff and my muscles started tightening up. At mile 9.

So, long story short, after the pain set in and I finally came to the conclusion that I should have trained..... I just tried my best to stay on my interval and "just keep swimming" as Dorie would say.

There were a few hundred times when a loud, booming curse word would burst into my thought process and interrupt whatever pleasant thought I was trying to have at the time, but aside from that.... I made it through.

How did I manage to make it?

I played a little game.....

Starting at mile marker 9 I needed to take my mind off my misery and I needed to stop thinking about how much worse it was gonna get.... I needed to move away from suicidal thoughts and move more towards something positive.

I told myself that at every mile marker, I was gonna focus my thoughts on (1) thing.

(1) person.

(1) place. 

(1) event,

I was running about a 13 min mile at this point (don't judge), so I promised myself that for the next (4) miles I was gonna focus on only (4) specific topics.


Mile marker 9 topic: DAD

Always an easy topic to think about.

I started recalling memories from the Lake and family beach trips to Daytona . I started to think about how he looked, when he would sit and wait for my mom, sister and I to finish shopping, at the hot dog stand in the Lima Mall reading a book.  How he smelled (eternity for men), the sound of his laugh, how soft his hair always was in the back, how he loved his Dt. Pepsi caffeine free, and the sound of his walk.

I started to think.... "What he would he think if he saw me participating in a half marathon?"

From a Dr.'s point of view, he always hated the sport of running and always said it was "the worst thing someone could do to their body",

but aside from that... I was wondering if he MIGHT be proud of me..... or if he would just laugh at me and shake his head.

While in the middle of mile 9, Allen Jackson and Jimmy Buffett, "Margaritaville", came on Pandora.

My dad loved Jimmy Buffett.

I thought that was cool.

As I  was recalling specific memories of Dad, trying to keep my mind off the constant screaming of profanities that my body was shouting at me, I saw something......

An old man. Heavy set. White hair and glasses. A  big belly with suspenders. A walker.

He was standing all by himself. No other on-lookers around. No other runner's family members around cheering them on. He was literally standing by himself.

As I skated past him, I thought in the back of my mind how he "kinda" resembled Dad. Not exactly... but a little.

The belly.

The glasses.

The walker (Dad had a wheelchair). 

Dad didn't have white hair, but I bet if he was still alive today his hair would be close to all gray.

Then the old man gave me a "thumbs up" sign.

And nooded his head.

And gave me a slight smile.

My dad wasn't a big "thumbs up" guy...... but for some reason I feel that this old man was answering the question that I had running through my head at that time.... "Would Dad be proud of me?"

I think maybe.



Mile marker 10 topic: Memories that always make me LOL

There are those moments that ALWAYS make me start giggling to myself or make me laugh out loud whenever I think about them. These are my "go to" memories always guaranteed to give me a chuckle or full blown burst of laughter!

1. Remembering the time my friend, Katie, rode her bike into a tree.

2. A student saying "shut up, dirtbag" and me telling my sister about how the word
"dirtbag" is so weird and how we laughed so hard for hours!

3. When my mom tried to turn the car around.....in the garage....with the garage doors down. Hilar.

4. When my sister -in-law and I were at TJ Maxx and she was going to buy a new winter coat. She ripped the tags off and couldn't wait to put it on! She did all this BEFORE the cashier told her that her debit card was not working....and she had to take the coat off and hand it back. I died. So funny.

5. That United Healthcare commercial where the couple is dancing to "The Time of my Life" from Dirty Dancing. Watch it HERE if you haven't seen it. You will die.

6. When Toby and I were lost in SC and were looking at an OHIO map for about 15 minutes to try to find our way around.

7. When my mom accidently took the gas pedal for the break and  took us for a .4 second joy ride, darting down the driveway, going from 0 to 20mph,  finally coming to a jerking hault. I'll never forget the look on her face, the look on my sister's face as she watched us pull a Jeff Gordan type maneuver in the driveway, and how hard mom and I laughed. Oh, and the black tire marks on the driveway, evidence of a near death experience.

8. When my friend, Angie, referred to my friend, Jayme's, vagina as "bat wings".

9. When my college roommate, Melanie, and I were honestly terrified when a giant cricket was walking across our family room carpet. I can still see her perched atop the couch with a pillow above her head and I can still feel the unbalance that I experienced while trying to stand on both arms of a rocking recliner.

10. When my friend, Maria, tried to kick her leg up in the air in order to get a small stretch in, while running in a half marathon. Her leg went about 3 millimeters in the air.

11. When my friend, Laurie, was running on the beach at night, trying to catch up with me and a few other girls, and face planted in the sand.

12. When I fell off my sister's bunk bed ladder in her dorm room and (almost) became paralyzed. (ok... twisted my ankle, but it hurt like a mother!)

13. When my mom said the word "Wombat"

14. When my 8th grade students were were all silent reading and the room was waaaaaaaaaayyyyyy too quiet and in a moment of insanity I screamed at the top of my lungs, "OHMYGOD! IT'S GEORGE CLOONEY!!"  Their reaction = priceless.

15. The vision of my friend, Kerri, holding an umbrella that had been blown inside out, in the middle of a rainstorm,  in Magic Kingdom.

16. The story my friend, Kris, told at lunch one day about how she was taking her son for a stroller ride and it suddenly started to down pour, so she hauled ass, pushing the stroller home, as fast as she could.... until she hit a crack in the sidewalk. The speeding stroller came to an abrupt stop, flipping over, catapulting her son, and landing upside down. Then her son said, "Mom!! I'm stuck!"

17. The night I waxed Toby's back with an at-home wax kit.

18. The night I attempted to use (of all things) nail polish remover to remove excess wax from Toby's back from an at-home wax kit.

19. When we were at my aunts house for a lunch, right after my Dad had died, and my sister's paper plate broke in half and all her food slopped to the floor. After all we had been through with Dad's death.... she whimpered a little bit, almost broke down crying, and instead we broke out in hilarious laughter.

Mile marker 11 topic: My mother-in-law

I initially was going to think about  about Leo and Cece waiting for me at the finish line for this mile. I am always sooooo excited to see them whenever I finish a race. The excitement they show could put a smile on Wilford Brimley's face.

But then my mind started to wander to how it was even possible that Leo and Cece were there, at the finish line, to see me finish.  How they got there.....

It's because of my mother-in-law.

Becky.

She makes sure that my kids are waiting for me at the finish line.

She also makes sure that she is waiting for me at the finish line.

She wouldn't miss it. This I know. Even if we didn't have kids..... I am confidant that she would still be there... waiting at the finish line..... arms flailing on the air so I can pick her out of the crowd..... waiting to hug me even though I smell terrible. (I swear I put on deodorant!)

She's amazing. I have never been more honest when I say, "I don't know what I'd do without her".  The help she gives me with the kids, laundry, housework, dinner....  is all unbelievable, so much appreciated, and done out of the kindness of her heart (and her slight obsession with cleaning :) )

But besides that, she has become one of my best friends.

We eat dinner together, we shop together, we vacation together.

Whenever I want to do something I know that she will be my side-kick.

 Shop, eat, see a movie, take the kids to the zoo, try a new diet, experiment with new foods, make green smoothies, a Pintrest craft, make up a new  hip-hop dance to "Pump Up The Jam" in the middle of the living room... whatever it may be, I know Becky will always join me.

She supports me when I need it most, listens to me when I vent or ask questions, laughs with me at stupid things people do, and cries with me on the rare occasion when my anti-depressants allow me to show any type of emotion.

She was my business partner when I started my jewelry business. She watched and listened to me rehearse my "show" over and over again.

She even went with me to my first few shows to help me set up and simply because I asked her to.

She is never sick. Never tired. Never unwilling.

 She lets Leo and Cece call her "moe moe" even though she hates that title.

She (without a doubt) will wash every single item of dirty cloths in my house ANYTIME she is present. NEVER is my hamper full when I get home after Becky has been at my house.

The kids toy room is always picked up and organized and the basement is too. Why? Not because I keep up with it. Because of Becky.

She helped me plant my first garden.

She helped me get started subbing for Mercer Co. Schools when we first moved back to Celina.

She helped find Leo and Cece their daycare.

And she introduced me to making mashed sweet potatoes in the microwave. (she knew people... "wink and gun" )

 I love her.  I rely on her. I need her. 

What a blessing she is.  And how lucky am I?

Mile marker 12 and 13 (both kinda a blur) topic: My reward

At this point my body hated me. I was being called every name in the book and I deserved every one.

Who runs 13 miles.....suddenly?

Without practice.

Without preparation.

 Without the proper mindset.

Me. I do. This jughead.

What was I thinking?!?!

My calves were both on the verge of exploding into Charlie horses. My back was stiff. I had blisters forming on the bottom of my toes that I could feel with every step. My armpits were beginning to burn from the constant pumping of my arms against my sports bra. My hands were so swollen and my wedding ring was tight.

What got me through? What kept my spirits up and wouldn't allow me to decide not to fake passing out in order to get a ride up to the finish line?

A cold beer.

A Miller Light.

That was what I was thinking about.

Toby, the kids, and I were going to a get together later that evening at a friends house. A "post marathon" celebration. I was really looking forward to it for many reasons. It was the first time in a long time that Toby was able to join the kids and I in anything remotely fun. It was also the first time in a long time Toby and I were able to hang out together. I was anxious to hear how everyone did in the race and I was excited to meet new people that I knew would be there. There was also going to be pizza.

I contemplated if I wanted to drink Miller Light, wine, summer shanty, or straight rubbing alcohol.

Wine would normally be my drink of choice......cabernet savington blanc..... but at this moment, drinking a dry, blood colored, warm drink was not what I desired.

I'm normally not a beer person, but this time was different. I wasn't in my right mind.

So I endured. I continued on. I focused and concentrated on each step, I kept my feet moving because  God forbid I stop (even for a second) I guarantee I wont be able to pick my feet up again.

I found it ironic that at this point I was running past a cemetery..... .

As I approached the finish line, the cold Miller Light was still on my mind.... until I saw them.

Moe-Moe
Leo
Cece

Standing there off to the left, waiting.

I immediately started flailing my arms and soon Moe-Moe returned the wave.

She got the kids attention, bent down and pointed toward me, and then I heard their squeals!

MOMMY!!!!

Cece so excited, her voice belting out  the high pitched scream only Cece can produce.

They both came running toward me as fast as their toddler legs could go, Leo zipping past Cece, almost knocking her over, and seconds away from starting a fight....... and continued to run along side me until I crossed the finish line.

Finally. I could stop.

 I felt 4 little hands wrap around my legs.

 Leo asked me "Mommy, Did you win?"


To which I replied, "YES! I WON!"

and later that night, that beer tasted really good.

1/2 Marathon #3.

I'm participating in my 3rd Half Marathon on Saturday.

The Grand Lake Marathon, which is held in Celina.

I participated in this race last year and loved it! It was a beautiful course and the time of the year is perfect! What I loved the most about this race was that at every mile, there were "cheer groups". Local business could purchase a mile marker and set up a station to help cheer on the participants! I loved it! Every mile I was looking forward to seeing what business would be there! It kept things exciting! From what I remember from last year, my favorite cheer stations were St. John Lutheran Church and Wright Stale Lake Campus.  I also remember that there was a band playing once I got to the park in St. Marys. It wasn't your normal marching band. It was more hip hop and had awesome beats. It was so cool!

I'm excited for tomorrow! The race starts at 7:30am, so I'll prolly show up around 7am.

This is the 1st time that I am participating in a race where I am NOT prepared at all.

 I didn't train for this one.

At all.

The other 2 half's that I have been in, I trained (hard) for months to prepare for. This one, I just couldn't  find the energy, time, interest, and drive. I don't know why, but it just "wasn't in me" this time.

Then why am I doing it? Why did I even register?

Because I know me.

I know, for a fact, that if I didn't participate, on the day of the race I would be wishing SO BAD that I was part of it. I would have been soooooo regretful for not signing up. I would have been really hard on myself and beat myself up about it. I KNOW I would have done this.

Its an awesome feeling when you know yourself really well. I am so proud of me for listening to my gut and signing up for the half marathon, even though I knew I wasn't going to be prepared.

So what's my plan?

Do my best.

As of now, I am planning on starting out with a very easy interval. Something that's not gonna kill me or set me up for failure right in the beginning.

I'm thinking maybe 2 min run, 5 min walk for the first few miles.... maybe bumping it up later, but maybe not. There is a possibility that even the easy interval may kill me, so if that's the case, my ass will be walking, and I'm totally OK with that. 

I'm seriously just so happy to be a participant. and I will NEVER have a goal of "running the entire time". I KNOW I could never do that. My body would never let me, I promise that. I know myself well enough. I have no desire to EVER run more than 3 miles straight at a time. Just to be clear.

I'm hoping I can finish in under 3 hours. If I finish in 2 hrs. and 59 minutes, I'll be happy!

If I would have trained for this like I had originally planned, my goal time would maybe be to finish in under 2hr. 45 min.


I finished my 1st race in almost 4 hours.

My second I set a goal to finish under 3 hrs and 30 min. and I ended up finishing in 2 hrs and 57 min!
That was a proud moment!

My third race I'm gonna keep my goal the same it was last year... under 3 hrs and 30 min. 

As long as I reach it, I'm good with that!

If I go over 3hrs 30 min, (which is a huge possibility),  I wont be devastated. I'll still be proud of myself... but I know I can do better and (hopefully) not reaching my goal will push me to train harder next year!

Every half marathon I have done so far, I have gotten myself a little "diddy" (as my friend, Jo, would call it)  as a  reward.

This is my "diddy".


Every race I do (half marathons only) I add a washer with the date.

I'm still shocked that this will be my 3rd. I never thought Id ever do anything like this. Go me!

The History of My Heart.

Dear Cece,

When you experience your very first heartbreak, I want you to read this.

I love you!

Love, Mom

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Ever had your heart broken?

If not, you suck.

But also if not, then I kinda feel sorry for you.

I feel sorry for you because you have not experienced something that, I think, is essential to experience in a lifetime.

I've had my heart broken (3) times (so far)  in my 35 years on this green earth.

(3) times too many, if you ask me.

 But, I guess (3) is better than 15.

 I would have settled for (1) good, firm heartbreak. I mean, I could have learned and grew from just (1)... I really didn't need the 2nd (2) to happen......but they did and I coped.

Anyway... I remember those heartbreaks like they happened yesterday.

The feeling of having a broken heart can't be explained, but I'm gonna try my best to put it into words......my words.

Heartbreak is different for everyone.

I look at Cece and I am anxious for her to feel her 1st heartbreak. I'm dreading it because it's gonna hurt her. I'm also a little excited for her because I think that once she recovers from that heartbreak, she will be a different woman. She will be stronger, more compassionate, wiser, more confident, and she will carry this heartbreak with her for the rest of her life, like a medal she has  earned.

I can't speak for Leo. I have no idea what heartbreak is for a man. I only know what it's like for a woman and I GUARENTEE it's different. But I will tell him this: be very careful with a girls heart. If you break it, do it gently and not hatefully. She will eventually get over it, but it may take her awhile and you can't hate her for that. Try your best to understand even if you don't and say your sorry 100 times............ and don't be an asshole.

My 1st heartbreak.
I was 18.

His name was Matt.

I was a freshman in college and so was he.

I remember the day we met... he was going back and forth from a car, unloading stuff into his dorm room.

I was walking with my roommate, Krista.

We ran into each other and both of us knew the other looked familiar.

I knew I had seen him before and I could tell he thought the same.

We both said "hi" and I THINK we may have swapped numbers or he may have invited us over to his dorm later or something..... because from that moment on we were always together.

I loved him. I really did. He was so cute, he had great hands (I have a "thing" with a man's hands) , and I just really liked his face.

We were from around the same area and knew a lot of the same people.

We had the same interests... we both liked to party and be social, we both liked movies, and we both liked.......... well, that may have been it. I was 18, remember?

We "went out" for a 2 years.  That was the longest relationship I had ever been in.

In those couple of years, I think we broke up a time or two.

I remember a lot about those (2) years that I spend loving Matt.....

 I remember the people we hung out with, I remember movies we saw together, I remember him meeting my family (my mom made Wild Rice soup for dinner and he didn't like it, but tried his best to eat some to be polite).

 I remember my dad shaking his hand (and Matt told me later that is REALLY hurt), I remember where he lived (a dorm room, the 2nd floor of a house with (1) roommate, and another bigger house on College St. with (2? 3?) other guys.

 I remember gifts we got each other (I remember that our first Christmas together he bought me like (5) sweaters and he was the first boy to buy me "nice" jewelry....... a pair of gold earrings).

I remember how I felt with Matt. He made me happy. I wanted to be with and around him all the time.

I remember that my heartbreak over Matt took me a long time to get over.

A really long time.

We ended up breaking up for good my junior year of college.

 He completed his Freshman year at U of F, but then joined the Army. We lasted through his basic training and (maybe?) about a year after that, but it eventually ended bad.

There were a lot of sad moments (on my part) that I remember with Matt.

 I remember he was the first boy who I ever REALLY cried over.

 I remember my Dad comforting me when I was crying over him.

 I remember that he was the first boy to cheat on me and I remember "the night" I found out.

I remember the shock, hurt, disappointment, anger, and stupidity that I felt.

He cheated on me with a girl named Jamie.

Honestly, after that.... I really don't remember much more about our relationship.

Our last "official" break up was at a dance club in Findlay; Brandy's.

I remember being with my roommate Melanie and my friends Cory and Aaron.

 I remember how I worn my hair.... I had one of those elastic bands that had fake hair on it and I used it to wrap around my real hair. I remember I worn a "messy bun" and I specifically remember that I was having a good hair day.

 I clearly remember that.

Isn't it weird the things our brains zero in on?!?!

I remember knowing Matt was going to be there that night and I remember trying to pretend that I didn't care.

 I remember dancing with some random guy specifically to make Matt jealous. I have no idea if it worked.

 I remember this night was also the first night I ever got punched in the face.

Not by Matt.

By a girl named Roni.

She was a "friend" of Matt's and I guess she hit me because she was defending (protecting?) him.

 I remember Matt and I were yelling at each other, over what I have no idea, and I remember starting to cry and putting my hand over his face and digging my fingernails into his skin.

 That is when I got hit in the eye from the side.

After that.... we went home and I don't think I ever cried so hard and I remember Melanie telling me to pray.

  I had a black eye the next morning and I remember when I had to explain it to my mom and how mad at me she was.

After that, Matt left for Hawaii and I didn't see him again for about 2? 3? years.

He came home to visit his family for Christmas. We somehow got in touch with one another through email. He was going to come over to catch up.

 I will NEVER forget the butterflies in my stomach that night.

He came over. We sat on my couch. I remember my roommate and I were in the middle of moving, so all our stuff was boxed up. We talked and drank. We went to Kroger at some point and got more beer and I remember the cashier questioning his military ID.

We went back to my apartment. I remember he kissed me.

Out of nowhere.

 I think I was in the middle of a sentence.

I remember tears running down my face as soon as he did this.

 I wasn't happy that he kissed me. I wasn't excited that he kissed me. I was sad... because I knew that this kiss meant sooooo many things.

 It meant "I'm sorry".

It meant "I miss you".

 It meant "I really did love you".

 It meant "goodbye".

After that, he left while I was in the bathroom getting my composer.

He went to a house party at a friends. He said he was going to come back.... and he did, but I was asleep.

 He promised to call me the next day and take me to dinner.

He never did.

 I think I called his house 100 times that day, looking like a total psycho. I remember realizing at that point.... it was really over.

I never talked or saw him again.



I did kinda communicate with him one more time, but not directly.

His roommate from our freshman year committed suicide and I sent his mom his obituary and asked that she tell Matt what happened.

Years later.... like probably 6 or 7 years..... I was at country concert.

 I ran into an old friend of Matt's.

 I didn't want to look crazy and psycho, but I was really curious about what Matt was up to.

 I very casually asked this old friend..... "Hey, whatever happened to Matt?"

This friend told me he was married.

My heart dropped, I totally pretended to be surprised and acted happy.

It hurt knowing that.

It took a long time to "get over" Matt.

 I dated other people and they never really match up to him. One guy I dated said to me once during a fight we were having, "You are so still in love with him!"

 He was referring to Matt.

He was right.

 I remember many nights crying over Matt... while we dated and after. I remember the feeling of ache in my heart sucked, and the moment it went away, it finally felt like a weight was lifted off my chest.

That moment was when I met J.T.

My 2nd Heartbreak.
I was 23.

I remember meeting him when Lindsey and I went out and he came along.

He was friends with Lindsey's boyfriend and I think we were going to a party in Columbus.

 I remember knowing ahead of time that he was coming and that he "liked" me.

I was dating someone else at the time and I honestly wasn't interested.

Well, that relationship ended and I remember the moment when I decided to give J.T. a call.

I left him a message and I left my first and last name and remember saying.... "I don't know if you remember me or not...".

I went home to Ottawa that night and that's when J.T. returned my call.

I remember sitting on the floor, in the family room of the house I grew up in, and seeing an unknown number light up my phone screen neon green.

I knew it was him.

I remember being very confident. I knew he liked me. I knew this would go well.

I wasn't REALLY interested in him, but I didn't want to be single and I thought he was cute.

 I remember him laughing at the message I left him, because I left my last name and asked "if he remembered me".

 He said, "Of course I remember you!" and immediately asked me out on a date.

I remember him telling me how excited he was when he got my message and I remember that making me feel amazing.

J.T. and I didn't date long. Almost a year I think. I fell in love with him quick.

We had fun together.

 He was a teacher and I was working at JCP. I still couldn't pass that effin PRAXIS test, so I wasn't able to teach that year. I think that bothered him that I didn't have a "real job".

I met his parents and he met mine.

Actually, he only met my Mom. My dad died the year I started dating J.T..

J.T. was with me and my family on the 1st Christmas morning without Dad.

 It was so hard and we all sobbed.

 I think know that J.T. felt uncomfortable, but did his best to try to comfort me and I loved him for that.

He was a basketball coach and I liked that. I was a sucker for basketball boys. Always have been.

 Being a coaches girlfriend sucked. He was never able to do things on the weekends and if the team ever lost (which they did a lot) he was always grumpy.

 I remember taking pictures of all the basketball players on his team and making Christmas ornaments for each of them. It took forever, but I felt so proud to do it.

I remember J.T. got me a waffle maker for my 24th birthday. I still have it.

The way J.T. and I ended was weird.

 I still don't really know what happened.

 I THINK it may have been because I got really sick once and (honestly) I think it turned him off. Which is kinda funny, looking back on it.

We went to GA for my cousins wedding and I got food poisoning (from pizza I think). I was pretty grossly sick (barfing and pooping) for 2 straight days. I must have not been attractive to him during those 2 days..... so unattractive that he broke up with me a few days later.

It was a shock when we broke up and I was defiantly heartbroken. It felt extremely similar to what I went through with Matt. I remember begging him not to do this.

 I remember saying that "I don't want to go through this again!", "I can't go through this again!".

 It was like crawling back to hell after finally escaping.

 I remember that this was the first time I had cried over a man since Matt, and I remember my mom hugging me and holding me so tight the night the break-up happened. My mom and I had never really been that affectionate with one another, so this was a big deal to me.

 I drove home to Ottawa (10pm?), burst through the front door, and directly into my mom's open arms. I stood there and sobbed for about 10 minutes. My mom's friend, Deb, was over visiting at the time, and I remember her quietly putting her hand on my shoulder, softly walking around mom and I, and slipping out the front door.

J.T. had never had his heart broken before, so he had no idea why I was so upset. It was easy for him to walk away. He started dating someone shortly after me.

It was not easy for me to walk away. It was hard for me to move on after that break-up and it was 75% of the reason I moved to SC a few months later.

  That heartbreak took awhile to get over as well. I lost a lot of weight because of it......

which was A-MAZ-BALLS!

I remember running into J.T. at Country Concert that summer. I had lost about 15 lbs and had THE BEST abs I've ever had in my life! I was wearing a bikini top and jean shorts. It felt good to see him there, mainly because I looked so smokin' hot!

 We talked for about 7 seconds and he mentioned that he heard I was moving to South Carolina in a few days. I told him I was going to be teaching 7th and 8th grade creative writing and I remember him laughing, making fun of that.

I came back with a snarky comment about him teaching "gym" and he shut up.

That was the last time I ever saw him.




Running into J.T. at country concert was a breeze for me....... because this was the day I also met the man I would eventually marry.

I had met Toby about an hour prior to running into J.T.

When I first laid eyes on Toby I was attracted to him. He was a doll! A Brad Pitt/Leonardo DeCaprieo look-alike, with a great tan, and awesome abs! I had no problem running around with Toby that day/night and running into an ex-boyfriend was icing on the cake.

Bless THAT broken road!


My 3rd Heartbreak happened in between my break-up with Matt and before I met J.T.

When My dad died, my heart shattered again.... but this heartbreak felt different than the others.



 This heartbreak I knew was never going to go away.

 I knew that the feeling of "missing" my dad would be here forever.

Time was not going to heal this break, like it did the others.

This one felt like a hole. A never ending hole. It was deep, black, and my stomach constantly had the feeling that I was doing downhill in a roller costar.

There is not a lot to say about this heart break, cause it's still here.

 It's not healed yet and probably never will be. But, I've learned to live with it.

 Its like a wound that you have top keep an eye on.

 I've got to take care of it.... keep it clean and bandaged. Sometimes it feels fine, shows no sign of infection, isn't red or sore. But, then there are other times where it flares up and I need some extra antibiotics on it.

 It's a funny wound, but I'm used to it and I know it won't kill me.

At times it hurts really bad, and I think it just might kill me.... but it hasn't yet.

So, for now I'll keep an eye on it and watch it for signs of infection.






As nuts as it sounds, I am very grateful for these (3) heartbreaks.

 I have been made who I am because of them.

If these had never happened to me, I wouldn't be who I am now. I became so strong, more confident, a little guarded (but I think that's good), and more compassionate.

I loved and lost and loved again and lost again and loved again.

One thing I know for sure..... My heart may be broken again several more times throughout the remainder of my life. And I'm gonna have to deal with those when they come. But, I guarantee that they will not dealt with alone. Toby Rolfes will never break my heart.... this I know. So at least dealing with another break-up will never be something I  ever have to heal from again.


 

Sidenote:

Matt is married now to a beautiful girl. They live in VA and he has 2 adorable kids. I'm happy for him and he has a great career with the military. He's a big part of my college life and contributed to who I am today. I could never hate him. There were time when I did, but not anymore.

J.T. is also married. He has a son and still coaches HS basketball.

My dad is still dead. lol.

The Hardest Things.

Top (5) hardest things about being a mom (from MY perceptive.)

5.  The pressure and judgment us moms deal with.

 I have said this before, but I'll say it again... as soon as Leo was born, I had about 30 minutes of complete bliss and happiness before the nurse informed me that she had changed Leo's wet AND dirty diaper for me. That was the moment where my entire life changed.

 Not because Leo was now a part of it, but because it was the 1st moment I felt judged as a mom. From that moment on..... it never stopped and I don't plan on it stopping any time soon.

My mom once said something to me that I could not have agreed more with,. She said
 "I would hate to be a mom in this day and age. The pressure you girls are under is ridiculous".

She's right, ya know.

Isn't mom always right?

But, seriously.... we (us moms) are expected to breastfeed. If you don't breastfeed you will go to federal prison. Lol... not really, its a personal choice I know, but the judgment the non-breastfeeding moms get is tough.

Those mom's who take the easy way out, who don't love their children as much, who  don't have "that bond" that breastfeeding mom's have, who don't want the best option possible for their baby, and who poisoned their baby's with formula and plastic bottles know what I'm talking about.

Someone actually told me that the reason Leo had a cold and earache was "because you didn't breastfeed". She also felt the need to throw another throat punch in there with, "My kids have never been sick".

I also specifically remember 2 days after that ignorant, self-righteous comment was made, her child threw up all over the backseat of her car.

  On top of being "the breast" mom, there are pressures to make baby food from scratch, use organic everything, save the environment with cloth diapers (because God forbid I expose my child to the dangers of regular diapers), "wear" our baby's, never allow them to cry it out (oh the damage THAT will cause in the future!), compete with each other by creating the best pregnancy announcements, gender revel parties, shower themes, 1st birthday parties, and  birth announcements.

Speaking of birth.... did you use drugs? Cause if you did you are "not as cool" as the mom who did it the natural way. ?!?   Did you give birth in a bathtub? The woods? On an exercise ball? On your hands and knees?  Did you pull out your baby yourself? Cause if you didn't, you have missed out on a bonding experience that will never come again. Did they wash off your baby right away or did they keep him "white" for awhile? Cause if they washed him first, he defiantly wont be as healthy as a baby who wasn't bathed immediately. How many pushes did it take you? Make sure its above 5 or else you will be considered weak.  Someone asked me this question once. I responded, "Umm, I'm not sure...". She proceeded to tell me that her magic number was 3. She waited for a response. She didn't get one. I guess the trophy she was expecting wasn't finished getting engraved yet. Darn.

4.  How often I question myself
I'm ALWAYS second guessing myself regarding Leo and Cece. I never in my life have put this much through into anything I ever did.....until I became Leo and Cece's mom. In a span of 24 hours, these are the common, most re-occurring questions I am  constantly asking myself:
 Am I a good mom?
Was that selfish?
Would (insert a fellow moms name that I'm currently trying to measure up to) do it this way?
Does this really matter?
Will he/she/they remember this?
Am I making a memory?
Is this healthy?
Am I paying enough attention to them?
Should I be doing something constructive with them right now?
Would my mom do this?
Did my mom do this?
Will that cause cancer?
Will Toby be proud of this?
Will this make Toby mad?
Is that a sign of ADD?
Did I do that?
Was that right?
Is anyone watching?
Is she judging me?
Is this wrong?

See. Good thing you aren't me, huh?

3. Letting them go
I know they are not packing up and heading to college, but that's not really the "letting go" I'm referring to.

I'm talking about leaving them....period.

Leaving them without me. 

Whether I take them to a daycare or babysitter or drop them off at school or take them to Sunday school or enroll them on their first sports team or dance class or send them off for a sleepover at their nonnies. I'ts not that I can't function without their presence. I wont grieve until they come back. It doesn't matter if they are away from me for an hour or 3 days. I'm fine with taking "kid free" trips. I'm not going to sob on my way out, waving from the car window.  It's not about "missing" them.....  it's about what they experience without me that I will never know about.

Things will happen when Mom is not present. Great things, good things, sad things, mean things, bad things, life changing things, new things... lots of things. Things I will have no control over.

Another kid may say something to Leo or Cece that hurts their feelings.

Another kid may become Leo's best friend on the playground that day and will continue to be his best friend until he graduates from HS. I will probably never know what was said or how that bond was created...cause it happened without me.

Cece and her friends may talk about boys together and one of them may tell her what a "wet dream" is. I won't be there to see her reaction or how she deals with that bit of information or even if the information is correct or not. I remember when I was a kid, my neighbor told me what sex was. She said it was when "a man puts his pee pee in a woman's poop hole and pee's." So, for the longest time, that was what sex was to me. Peeing in someone's butt. I guarantee my mom never knew this. (until now)

Leo will probably hear "the F word" or say "the F word" and I won't be around to know the details of that moment. Why it was said, how it was said, if it was said to someone. I doubt he will come galloping home to share the news with me.

Cece may help out a little girl in need and her true character will shine through or she may contribute to bullying someone.

An adult may say something to or around one of them that may affect them somehow. An adult may curse, yell, be fighting with another adult, be crying, be rude to them, or be really sweet to them.

Regardless of what happens, I wont be there to witness it for myself.

Sure, Leo and Cece will tell me things that happen... but I guarantee you that they will NEVER tell me EVERYTHING.

What if Cece or Leo are in a situation where they need to make a serious decision?  What happens when they come to a crossroad and they have to decide? Cause it will happen. Will they cheat on a test? Will they try to smoke? Will they stand up for what they believe is right? Will they lie or tell the truth?  Will they choose wisely?

 Ill never know.

Any lessons they learn, stories they hear, names they will be called, sad, brave, confusing, happy, excited, scary moments that they will remember for the rest of their lives..... I wont be apart of.

That is hard to grasp and accept.

Why can't I cant be in control of every situation that involves them?  And when I am somewhere without them, why can't I have a simple surveillance monitor embedded into their skin that will allow me to see and hear everything that goes on in their lives without me? I don't think that's asking too much.

 But, that's not possible or realistic or fair to them.

2. The temporary separation with the Mr.
(let me preface this by saying I love Toby Rolfes more than ever!)

Toby and I's relationship changed the second we became parents. I pretty sure that Toby loved me more than he did the day he married me as soon as Leo was born.

 I know I loved him more.

From that moment, I looked at Toby different and I'm pretty positive he looked at me different too. ("Did I poop? "You might have... just a little")

 Toby wasn't just my husband anymore... he was "Dad" and his name wasn't all that changed.

The attention he used to give  me was less and less and I was OK with that. Sometimes. Usually it's the other way around... the mom is the one who gives all her attention to the baby and leaves none for the dad. It happened the opposite way around in our house.

Dates were different. They were obviously less and less, but now while out on the occasional date, the conversation is always about the kids, we both are usually tired and go home earlier than we want to, we both have a twinge of guilt for being on a date in the first place, and the time spent alone with Toby always goes too fast.

There was more competiveness in our relationship once we became parents. I know for sure that I was really good at "keeping track" whose turn it was to... feed, change diapers, give a bath, play with, rock to sleep, change the diaper genie bag, get the baby dressed in the morning, do the late night shift, get up first on Sunday, ect...

I really never competed with Toby (or any man, for that matter) before. Who gives the better baths? Who gets Leo to sleep the best? Who keeps Leo entertained better? Who is the fastest at changing a diaper? Who can get Cece to stop crying the best? Who can put up with the most stress before they loose their sh*t? Who is calmer?  Its' a struggle and more my issue than his. I don't think he competes with me as much as I do with him.

The "busyness" is never ending and "tiredness" is the third wheel all the time.

Drinking and partying is forever changed and our the importance of our social lives doesn't really matter at all to either of us, frankly.

 Little moments when he passes me in the kitchen, wraps his arms around my waist, hugs me for 8 seconds, and kisses my check mean more to me than anything. Little things like this matter more now than they did before. A lot of times Toby and I will hug each other and say "I miss you" and we both understand what that means.

We are more of a team now than a couple.

We work together and make sure that there is never an "I" in TEAM. I miss our "old relationship", but the "new relationship" is growing on me. I love Toby more than I did on June 9, 2007. He's the best Dad for our kids and I consider myself extremely lucky to be his partner, his wife, the mom of his kids, and his teammate!!

And sex? well, that's personal.....;)

1. The Guilt
From day 1.

My new BFF.

More like that annoying friend who won't leave you alone.

 I felt guilty because the nurse changed Leos first diaper instead of me. That feeling has not gone away since.

 I felt guilty when I wanted to take a nap after giving birth and I wasn't holding Leo every chance I got.

I felt guilty that Toby fed him in the middle of the night the first night in the hospital because I was asleep.

 I felt guilty feeding Leo a bottle instead of breastfeeding him.

I felt guilty every time he would cry because that meant that something was wrong. (I soon got over that, though)

The older the kids get, the guilt doesn't lessen any.

Whenever I do anything without them, I'm feeling guilty. No question.

 If I go home after school so I can sit on the couch, drink a Dt. Coke in peace, and attempt to catch the beginning of Dr. Phil, before picking them up at daycare, I feel guilty.

I SHOULD be going to get them as soon as work is over. I mean, that's the reason for daycare, right? To take care of my kids while I'm at work. So if I'm technically  not at work, there is no reason for them to be at daycare. Right?

I know.... so dumb. But its honestly what goes through my mind.

So there it is....the things that I feel was really hard about being a mom. I hope that these things will eventually get easier... but in the meantime, I'll keep working at it. Its all I really can do. Keep working......... and keep drinking. Defiantly keep drinking.