Pat constantly downplays any illness I might describe…
and I constantly diagnose him with cancer.
I can’t decide who is more obnoxious.
Probably him.
5.) Write a post about your third grade teacher.
I attended school everyday in third grade and was never particularly special in any way. I wasn’t the popular girl or the nose picking girl (not openly anyway), just a girl that kind of blended in. Nothing really special about me to make me worth remembering.
Until I was.
Mrs. Shafer came to class one day mid year and upon seeing me excitedly fired away, “Kathy! Do you have an Uncle Sean?? My goodness what a small world! He is a good friend of my sons and told us all about his sister, your mom right? Who’s husband died and left her to raise six kids and my gosh that’s YOU isn’t it?? I heard the last name and just pieced it all together! I’ve just been distraught over this poor family and all those kids and here I’ve had one in my class the whole time!!!”
She said ‘died’. I had become accustomed to using the phrase “passed away” when describing my Dad’s death that previous year. The D word was hard to hear. I wasn’t used to it.
Yes it’s me. I’m the one from that sad family you speak of! Can you believe it!?! An amazing coincidence indeed!
I recognized her sweet intentions even if I found her enthusiasm annoying. And if you think for one second the pity this woman showered over me in that moment was at all lost on me, you’re wrong. I picked up on it and used it to my full advantage.
When Christmas came around and only two special kids were going to be picked to play the Xylophone to the tune of “Doe A Deer” while the rest of the class sang at the pageant. Mrs. Shafer asked for volunteers to raise their hands. The entire class excitedly shot their hands into the air.
Not me.
I just walked over to the Xylophones and started practicing.
I was a regular student before, but now I was special.
Thanks Dad!!
1. My kids are swimming and they’re not even crying about it.
2. People are sleeping in…and for once it’s not just my husband.
3. I gardened something…and we all thought I would fail!
4. The morning cup of coffee is lasting longer.
5. The kids are playing together.
6. Nights were warmer.
7. People were married.
8. Babies were born.
9. Road tripping was tolerable.
10. Friends were made.
11. Adventures were had…
11. The whole time knowing in my heart…THEY’RE GOING BACK!
Seven more days…
1.) What do your kids have that you always wanted when you were a kid?
When I was little I had this dream that one day I would have a giant farm and on that farm there would be a pond and across that pond would be a bridge.
Someday I would wear a beautiful pink pettidress that would spread out all around me as I sat on that bridge reading a book with my feet dangling and my loyal black lab perched to my side.
At the end of the bridge, my horse would be grazing and upon finishing my chapter I would ride the horse back home. Together through the open pastures of my fields, my horse and I would gallop and frolic and laugh and everyone would want to know who that pretty girl on the fast horse was.
But instead I grew up, married a very NON cowboy, nary a pond in sight.
My horse riding dreams…are gone.
I will never be that girl.
And while I may never have the pastures or the pond or the lab or the bridge…for them?
THERE’S STILL HOPE!
I have recently enrolled the girls in horse riding lessons.
That pink pettidress is next on my list. The dream will LIVE ON!
(video here)
One thing I appreciate about my husband is that every time I come home after an evening out, the porch lights are on for me. We never typically turn the porch lights on, I’ve never complained about fumbling for keys in the dark, I never remember to turn it on for myself…and yet, like clockwork it is ALWAYS on for me.
What’s more, Pat and I have never had a conversation about this. I’ve never told him I appreciate that he does this and I really don’t think he’s looking for that. He just does it.
Yesterday, Pat got frustrated and looked at me and was all “Kat? Is there a reason every light in the house is on when you’re home? Why is it that you don’t turn a light off when you leave a room?”
Hmph.
I guess he doesn’t appreciate my reciprocation.
Reasons I Love My Husband:
1.)He brings me warm bottles to give to the baby in the middle of the night when I am cussing him out in my head.
2.)He ignores my juvenile behavior and patiently waits for me to get over myself and discuss our finances like an adult.
3.)He sits back until I give him the “look” and then he swoops in and rescues me from a sure death of toddler suffocation.
4.)He sat at the door of the operating room, after I was rushed in following an emergency c-section, waiting for word of my condition…for six hours.
5.)He drives 45 minutes out of his way to go get me sushi on Friday night because I’m hungry and moody and tired and he wants me to be happy.
6.)He says things like, “Kat. Who are the most important people in your life? We are all here. We all love you. We’re not going anywhere. Just remember that.” and makes me feel better when things start getting to me.
7.)He takes time away from HIS job and comes home on a moments notice to help ME with MY job.
8.) When I’ve had a tough day with the kids he lets me talk it out until I run out of gas and then suggests we send them to a different daycare.
9.) He wears my pink polk-a-dotted apron without so much as a blink when I want to take a picture of him for The Blog.
10.)He will never leave me for Kathy Lee Gifford because he thinks she’s outdated and fears for his life.
11.) He supports my shopping habit and watches the children as I single handedly delay our family’s future for a few cute tops…ok a lot of cute tops…and some shoes…maybe a clutch.
12.) He’s one of those smarty pants people who is not on the up and up with hidden messages and does not care about superficial stuff…including the condition of my hair, windblown or not.
13.)He doesn’t take sides when I tell him to whack our son for an entire day of horrid behavior but instead delicately puts his hand on our baby boy’s head and turns to me to say, “My God Kat, he’s burning up!!” and then asks me to fetch the motrin.
15.) He buys me stuff to keep me from breaking his stuff.
16.) He writes me poems telling me he doesn’t want any more babies, but at least he’s being nice about it.
18.) He puts thought into buying me the most ridiculous Christmas present I could never ask for.
19.) He doesn’t bring home yellow apples.
20.) He let’s me rip on him about his man colds even though I’ve got one of my own.
21.) I’m not sure there are many men who would put up with my interrogating the way he does.
22.) I love that he leaves the porch light on for me whenever I leave, even if he doesn’t appreciate my reciprocation.
5.) Last week we talking about mom’s WORST homemade meals. This week describe a meal your Mom cooked that you LOVED eating growing up.
I remember a lot of hideous meals growing up. Rice pudding, tacos, cabbage rolls, and kernels of corn (not to be confused with corn on the cob) topped the list. If Mom made any kind of meat..steak, ribs, pork chops…I’d toss bits of it under the table to keep from actually having to swallow it.
When Mom found the food under my chair I’d get in trouble so I started tossing the bits of meat across the table under the chairs of my siblings. When my siblings started being all, “Something hit my foot! KATHY are you throwing your MEAT again!?!” I had to change tactics once again. I resorted to stuffing my mouth full of meat and then would excuse my to use the bathroom and spit the food out in the toilet. Until one of my siblings was all, “MOM! Kathy spit potatoes out in the toilet!!” and I was all red faced and, “uh uh!!! No I didn’t!! It was MEAT!”
It may as well have been potatoes. I hated those too.
But my Mom DID do one thing right, and that was spaghetti. You would never catch me passing on a bowl of spaghetti. My brothers and sisters developed a nasty habit of grunting like pigs every time I asked for more. And while hearing all five of them grunt in unison hurt my feelings just a smidge…I didn’t let that stop me from filling my plate.
It was that good.
I can’t tell you how long I’ve been complaining about losing these “last 10 pounds” I packed on back when I was 13. And then again at 18. And then again at 30.
In my heart I know if I actually left my house and exercised it would come right off, but I really believe the longer you sit on your couch the harder it is to get off your couch and well…I’ve been sitting for a long time.
Soon your jeans start feeling snug and you opt for yoga pants more often than not. Those yoga pants are the devil because when I wear them I’m all “OMG I’m not that bad! These look great…in fact, my legs are looking downright slim if you ask me!”
I’ll put on my jeans three days later and find myself struggling to button the ‘loose pair’ and then I curse the yoga pants, “LIARS!”
I come up with every plan under the sun to help me lose the last 10 pounds…
What if I stop eating Fruit Loops every morning! I’ll try that.
What if I cut out that evening glass of wine! I’ll try that.
What if I do five lunges everyday from the kitchen to my office chair. I’ll try that.
What if I do 100 sit ups today. I’ll try that.
But what you won’t see is me entertain the idea of running or lifting weights or enrolling myself in a Zumba class of some kind. Sweat? Get uncomfortable? God no.
I want to know how little I need to eat of whatever food I want (without starving) to hit the weight I think I’ll be happy with.
Ten pounds less than I am now…(ish)…okay 20 if I get to be choosy about it.
It’s funny how hard we make this for ourselves. It’s just FOOD and EXERCISE. Don’t eat crap and MOVE your body a little. That’s all. No rocket science here. If you want to be at the pinnacle of ideal health for yourself than take care of your body in the ideal way.
Don’t feed it crap…and move it! The end.
We demand this of our kids don’t we? No Johnny you don’t need another cookie, if you’re hungry have some apples. No Suzie, you may not have a fourth pancake, three is plenty please finish your milk.
We encourage them to take bites of their fruits and vegetables.
We sign them up for soccer and t-ball. We want them to stretch their legs and run so we take them to parks and push them outside to play.
But we can’t follow the same rules we enforce and ultimately our health will pay the price.
I know that eating well and exercising could add years onto my life. Years! At it’s healthiest, my body would be more capable of fighting disease and viruses. My healthiest body would heal faster from any injury I might endure. It would set an example for my kids, that hard work and taking care of ourselves is an important priority. And in addition to all of that? I wouldn’t have that “last 10 pounds” to complain about anymore. Bonus!
And yet here I sit.
Blogging about it.
With a bowl of Cheetos.
I’m ignoring the better lifestyle choices I should make for myself because they’re uncomfortable.
And because Cheetos taste good.
Awesome.