Faster than Lightening

I can honestly say, I have had self esteem issues most of my life, which I continue to struggle with. I have the typical body dis morphia junk that most women have, Exaggerated by childbirth and my crazy head. My husband doesn't get it. He's a dude and is committed to love me forever. Therefore, he has some sort of blinders on when it came to me stepping into a bathing suit or going to a pool with a full body cover up.

I have NEVER been athletic. I am the epitome of clumsiness and am always falling over my feet and running into walls. That's me and can't change it. Oh how I longed to be that cheerleader who could do flips in the air and kick her toe above her head. That would have been comical. The pyramid would be falling over and everyones legs and arms would be broken because of my inability to walk in a straight line. Instead I chose to be the funny girl and laugh at myself then cry about all of of inabilities in the corner because I believed them to be true. I wanted to excel at something... to be great.

Since giving birth to our 3rd child, Ava, I wanted to feel more comfortable about myself and the way that my post baby body looked. Stop whining about it and do something Seeny!!! You can say I went a Little overboard. Working out for 5 + hours a day, whenever someone was napping, and watching every calorie that I put into my mouth. Lost the baby weight and discovered something. I liked the feeling I had after I finished a workout. I felt happier and strong and proud that I had done something for ME.

My sweet husband agreed to get us a membership at our local YMCA The kids and I go to most days, staying until they page me or my Kid zone time limit has been reached. I Love that I can see muscles in my arms and that I can take my kids to the pool and play without feeling like I need to run and throw on a cover-up to hide my many flaws that continue to be on my Mommy Bod. Which leads me to this...

I want to be a runner. I do an hour of cardio a day but struggle with running on land because of shin splints. This will not beat me!!! A friend invited whoever was willing to do the 5K run in the Race for the Cure. The 5 of us ran, talked, ran a little, and talked allot then ran in for the stellar finish. Very fun and So very proud that I ran as much as I did, and did a ..."RACE". (OK, so it wasn't competitive and our time isn't really important.) I did it and it was fun and I now I want to do more. We are all on board for the Turkey Trot in November. Our goal, to run the entire time. BUT WHEN WILL WE TALK??

100% Big

So why when he brought this piece of paper home did I feel a little twinge of sadness? His very first spelling test. Spelling. What? He can spell? He's a baby. He's my baby. He's supposed to depend on me to write things out for him, not write them himself. He's reading, with much hesitation, and writing and getting all about big and leaving mom in the dust. He says he likes math. He has subjects? What? I'm accepting. Accepting that he's getting bigger. It's a process. I know. It's the 2nd month of school, when does the accepting part stop? NEVER.

Little Miss "I didn't do it"

So, here is the precious, please don't spank me, I am so innocent and would NEVER do anything wrong face of my criminal princess.

I thought it would be fun to have matching hot pink nail polish to match my hot pink MAPS (mother and preschoolers) shirt for last Friday. Sis, Goo, and I run to Wal-Mart to pick the perfect shade and a bottle of white to make sweet lil daisies on the big toes. Fun, right???

We get home, Maddox turns on Noggin and plants himself on my bed minding his own business and the princess and I set up for our pedicure toe-toe makeover. She is adorable as always, spreading out her tiny fingers for mama to paint. Legs sprawled in front of her, anxiously awaiting new color for her tiny toes. She loves having her finger nails and toes painted. I mean LOVES it!! We get her done and then I do mamas as she blows on her hands and watches. We talk about the flowers and how long it will take for her nails to dry and if they are done yet. I finish and brainlessly go to the kitchen for something leaving sis in the bathroom with a plethora of her favorite past time. DUMB and BAD BAD BAD. Sis then runs in to the kitchen to proudly show me her project. OH, NO...

THIS and THIS









Precious, right? Oh, it gets so much better. Because if sis looks like that, what does my bathroom look like??

THIS

We loaded in the car since I had used ALL of the remover to paint our toe-toes this lovely shade of pink and drove across the street to Dillons and bought 3 bottles of nail polish remover. As I am sitting on the floor of my bathroom, scrubbing my rug with a toothbrush and pouring remover, carpet cleaner, Windex, hairspray and anything else I can find get rid of the impossible stain, the princess says in her sweet sing song voice, "Mommy, bubby did it. Bubby bad boy. What you doing? Bubby bad. " I can't help but then think to myself, "Why in the heck have I not spanked your bottom? Because you look so stinkin cute and sweet and this is my fault that the polish was left out, tempting you as you sat in the same room. But then, wouldn't I have swatted your brothers if they had done the same thing?? Why is it different with you, princess? It's not. And it shouldn't ever be. So with wide eyes, sitting next to me, sis got a spanking from mommy.

Hard to be mommy sometimes. All the time. But completely worth every spill, every swat, every tear and every sweet hug.

She called them Monster Cookies

She came with them in hand, calling them Monster Cookies. I'm pretty sure that she had intended that they be for the children that she was leaving in my care for a snack. I offered it, only one of them was smart enough to take it between all of our kids. Then, I never looked back. Every time I passed through the kitchen, they whispered my name like the ring whispered to Frodo, "my precious." Then they were gone.

I will not deny that they have crossed my mind on more than one occasion. Their peanut buttery, chocolate, oat-mealy goodness I can taste on my lips as I write this. Alas, this is why I am fairly certain I am NEVER making them. She said that they freeze well and make about four dozen so you can pull them out and make them at any waking hour. BAD IDEA!!! I am not a self proclaimed night eater, but I think that these cookies could make me one if I dare to EVER make them.

So for those of you who are brave enough to try and make their wonderfulness here is a recipe that I found. I will say this. They were worth every minute I spent sweating them off.