How's that for an ego-boost?

So I've had a shitty week. Emotionally I mean. It's been a mostly 'normal' week in terms of work, school, kids, etc, but emotionally, I was a bit of a wreck. Compounded by the fact that I felt abandoned when I really needed friends, it was definitely one of the toughest weeks I've had in a while. Nothing really changed, but every now and then I have a mini-meltdown. During those rare times, I become more like a needy, weepy, wuss than the rock everyone seems to expect, so is it so terrible that I expect someone to be MY rock for a change? Well, this week apparently, it was a little too much to ask for and I had to get through it on my own. I'm still not ready to go into detail, but let's just say when I wrote down a list of all that was bothering me, that I have to deal with - alone- it was overwhelming. I cried. Great big heaving sobs. On the floor of my closet. Alone. It hurt, but it showed me something. I am a really good friend.

So anyway, yesterday I was better. I was able to talk to Elle, the sales admin at work. I had to apologise for ignoring her when she tried to reach out to me the day before, but she understood. She listened, didn't patronise me with the usual useless platitudes. Didn't berate me. Her comments and feedback were encouraging, and I appreciated her all the more for it. So by the time I left to get the kids to their piano lesson I was halfway on my way to being back to normal. My firefighter had been in a Homeland Security class all day, but got out early, so I suggested he come over, but by the time I was done with errands, it was getting late, so we rescheduled for this evening. I got home bouncing full of energy, so I had the kids clean out their mess from my car while I cleaned inside the house and started dinner. I poured myself a drink and read my book in the quiet while they 'cleaned' my car. Then after dinner and the kids had finished their homework, the four of them (my daughter's friend had come over for dinner) played X-Box for a while. Golden opportunities do not often present themselves like that so I poured myself another drink and went upstairs, showered and washed my hair. I put MC on Throwback Jams, cranked the volume as loud as I dared and happily sang along while drying my hair.

Around 9pm, still buck-naked, I unlocked my door, stuck my head out and told the brats to brush their teeth and go to bed, closed the door and went back to dancing around my room. I had decided to go to the Alehouse to play pool for a bit since I apparently wasn't going to sleep. So I came out of my bathroom, stepped into my closet, quietly noticing my door had crept open. My daughter had come in to talk while I dressed, so I thought nothing of it and carried on perusing my closet for something to wear.... 60 seconds later I about hit the ceiling when the baby (he's 7, I really should stop calling him the baby) jumped out from behind me in the closet! No telling how long the little rat had been hiding in there, but he took several years off my life!

So anyway, this apparently is taking longer than I thought to get to the good part....

I haven't been to the Alehouse to play pool in a few months. Not since the firefighter and I got a little more serious than originally planned. That's a blog for another day! There are quite a few regular players who I'm friendly enough with so I knew I'd get a game or two. Harry was there. He's one of my favourites. Pushing 80 years old at least, he's always good fun and winning goes back and forth between us. I lost last night. In fact I lost pretty much every game except the last two, but that's not the point of my story. I didn't play badly. I just didn't play to my usual caliber, but last night was different in that I had an audience... that kept growing. It was a little unnerving. All of the male species. Some were a little more forward than others and outright complimented me. Others just quietly stood by and discussed the merits of how I could make incredibly difficult shots and missed the easy ones lined up in front the pockets. This is not something I'm used to and I'm terrible at receiving compliments. I don't blush easy, but if you want to see it, just tell me I'm pretty. Some tried to buy me drinks, but I was driving, so was on sweet tea. One tried to pass off his quarters as mine when I tried to leave. Followed me outside to return my quarters... that weren't mine. It was kinda cute. So trying to shoot pool with a crowd of 'admirers' apparently isn't easy and threw me off my game, but I went home with a buzz.

A well needed boost to my self-esteem. Last night I earned the moniker the bar-staff gave me months ago "Hot chick".

I did it! Yay!!

I am so proud of me!! Yes, I spent an excruciating afternoon Saturday recovering, but it was so worth it!! I finished in 2 hours and 10 minutes, pretty much spot on my goal pace of 12:30mins/mile and I was not LAST! I came in 3206 of the 3288 who finished, which sounds horrendous, but 5000 turned up, so I think I did pretty damn good to finish!

I managed to stop at the ABC store and Harris Teeter on the way home, despite tears in my eyes. Some serious pain in my back and legs and Plantar Fasciitis in both feet made it difficult to walk, but I met the challenge and that was the most important part. However, that being said, I would much rather endure natural childbirth again before that pain... I'm still a little sore and had to change my heels for flip flops today, but we'll see how much damage was done when I go for an ortho checkup tomorrow.

That being said, I signed up for the Raleigh Color Vibe in June today ;-)

And my firefighter was awesome. I crashed at his place Friday since he lives closer to the course, and he was totally ok with me falling asleep shortly after dinner, lol. And then made sure I was up and hydrated around 5:30am. I should have accepted his offer to come out and support me, but it was cold and would have been boring for him to sit and wait. Look at me being considerate! Idiot! I could barely make it back to my car to drive home! The kids had stayed at a neighbour's house, so all I had to worry about was getting home to shower.... that was another challenge all on it's own! I really wanted to wash my hair too, but with every muscle literally screaming at me, I gave up and laid down for a nap before my firefighter came with movies.... we watched Sinister, which oddly did not frighten me as much as I thought it would (awesome movie, highly recommend it). And then I ordered pizza... should have let him get the damn door. I swear it took several minutes for me to shuffle over and open it. The pizza guy knocked like 3 times!

The kids elected to sleepover Saturday night as well, so I was tucked up in bed by 8 after taking an anti-inflammatory AND a pain killer, I still woke at midnight in no small amount of pain! I woke again at 7am feeling slightly more human and was able to go to the bathroom without crying, but after brushing my teeth, I crawled back into bed to await my firefighter who was bringing me breakfast. It was 12:30 before I was able to make it to the shower.... By 6pm I was relatively 'normal' and cooked us dinner before the kids came home, but that was all I could take and was back in bed and knocked out before 9pm. God bless pharmaceuticals...

I tried my usual heels this morning, but before I'd reached the first traffic light, I had switched to flip flops. With a beautiful week of weather predicted, I'm sure I'll be back out before the end of the week... Providing the specialist doesn't ground my stubborn ass....

Momentary loss of judgement?

So September 29 2012, I completed my first 5k in about 17 or 18 years. I did it in 27 minutes, which I was pretty impressed with! Shortly thereafter a friend of mine, who shall remain nameless suggested I take part in the UNC TarHeel 10 Miler with her on April 20 2013. Like an idiot and still feeling invincible after the charity run in September, I paid the $45 fee and signed up...

What in the WORLD was I thinking??

So I kinda half-heartedly began training. And by training I mean doing a short core workout at home, maybe a short 2 mile run until the weather got too cold, sometimes made it to the gym... In January, while working on some core strengthening, I felt a sharp snap in my left hip and ended up prone on my bedroom floor in agony for about an hour while I waited for the pain killers to kick in. A visit to the orthopedic specialist and I'm told I've probably torn the labrum ligament... Damn! However, an MRI showed only minor damage, mostly wear and tear and I was prescribed aquatic and massage therapy. Surgery to repair the cartilage damage is optional, but it seems the pain is coming from the herniated disk in my lower back courtesy of my ex-husband. The therapy will alleviate it they said. Sadly, they also suggested that I not compete :-(

The specialist does not know me well. I'm stubborn. So I did the therapy, although I'm not fond of the stench of chlorine from the pool, so I gave that up, but the massage helped and the pain in the hip subsided enough that I was able to put in a couple of miles a day. I still have not made it past 5 miles though. And tomorrow's the day....

So I have on standby: tramadol, flexeril, and meloxicam for pain relief, a heat pad and ice packs, a nursemaid (the wonderful guy I've been dating has elected to come and hang out when I get home) and crutches. Yes, dammit, crutches. I'm determined to cross the line under my own steam. I do not need to win the race, I won't be breaking any land-speed records, but my goal is to finish. Within the 2.5 hour allotted time-frame. And then I promise. No more ridiculous challenges that will likely only end up in my own self-inflicted pain. And I-Told-You-So's from friends and family.

So I've hydrated all week, stayed away from alcohol, increased the complex carbs, but not too much and tried to get a decent amount of sleep (not easy as a single mother of three!). Wherever I finish at least I can say I did not give up!

Dear Curly, I love you...

Curly is my big sister. I can't remember the name of the guy who gave her the nickname Curly Joe, but I have faithfully kept to it since we were in our teens. Anyway, she is a happily married mother-of-three who now enjoys listening to my antics as I adjust to having to date again. I think she secretly enjoys her normally confident and somewhat strong-willed lil sis fretting over whether or not he likes me.... So anyway, after a heart-to-heart last night, she finally put things into perspective for me. I am dating a guy who is very much like my sister and since I love her to pieces and wouldn't change who she is, I guess I was fussing over nothing. My sister and I are polar opposites and have always gotten along (except the usual sibling falling outs). She is down-to-earth and sensible, I'm a little off-the-wall and crazy. She grounded me as a child growing up, I taught her to live a little and get into trouble. It's not a bad thing to be dating someone so similar to someone I love so much.

 So I wanted to send a shout-out and let her know she is awesome!

We talk more now as adults. Well, ok, so I do most of the talking, but she is the best friend and sister I could possibly have. Even when I call her way past her 9pm bedtime, she patiently listens to me over-analysing 'does he like me' dilemmas. She knows all my secrets and I know some of hers, but she never judges. And when I desperately needed someone yesterday, she was there, as always.

I should probably also give props to my awesome brother-in-law, who was very patient with me keeping her on the phone so long. Much appreciated!

The Trials of a Pre-Teen Daughter

Ok, so I've introduced you to my 8 year old, Bad Boy, today I thought I'd talk about my 12 year old daughter, George.

What can I say about George? She is beautiful, smart, sensitive, and considerate on her good days. On the not-so-good days, she is, quite simply, a teenage girl: moody, selfish, and lazy! I love her to pieces. I quite often consider her my best friend and ally against her two younger brothers. We like the same TV shows, restaurants, and traveling, but we both also have an unhealthy affection for expensive designer clothes and shopping habits!

I have recently lost quite a bit of weight (40lbs) and dropped from a size 12 to a size 4. It was hard work, and I'm quite pleased with the results, however during that year long struggle, my daughter sprung up from 5'0" to 5'8".... I'm 5'8". She also grew to a size 11 shoe. I'm a size 9, but have shrunk down to a 8-8.5 with the weight loss.... She's a size 2\3 in womens clothes. So naturally shopping for a 12 year old who belongs on a haute couture catwalk is quite understandably a NIGHTMARE!! Anything age appropriate does not come in adult sizes... I recently attempted to buy her new jeans without her present, so I went to her bedroom and located the current pair of jeans that fit her (they were lying in a crumpled heap on the floor) and checked the size: Size 2 Average. Knowing that her legs are just as long as mine, I went with a friend to the Gap outlet. Gap does the skinny jeans she loves so much. Found a 2 Average skinny jean in the dark wash that she also loves so much, checked out and left the store. I may have made a brief stop at BCBGMAXAZRIA and treated myself to a couple of outfits on the way back to the car... but it was snowing and I deserved it for making the effort in inclement weather for my daughter who didn't want to roll out of bed that day.

Monday afternoon, George returns home from school full of complaints about the jeans I had lovingly gone out in the cold to purchase for her. They are too short, the crotch doesn't fit right. So she steps in front of me and yep.... ankle waders. So I send her for the tape measure. Gap Average inseam is about 30". My daughter's inseam? 32". How the Hell did that happen? Oh wait... mine is a 33". Crap, so I spend the next couple hours checking every online store I could think of... no size 2 in longer lengths! Luckily a good friend sent me in the direction of www.alloyapparel.com who DO have extra lengths: 35" and 37"! Woohoo! Two pairs of jeans $50 including delivery :-)

But oh, the drama is not yet over.... On my way out of work Tuesday afternoon, I receive a text message from my daughter. Can she get her hair done? Sure I reply, are you paying? Yes. Ok, I'll check Tabitha is available when I get home. Of course I was exhausted when I got home, but I called and what luck! Tabitha can squeeze her in. What's the rush? George had forgotten to mention that tomorrow is picture day, hence the emergency for new jeans and hair appointments....

So the following morning, her hair is done, teeth are brushed, but the jeans won't be delivered for a week.. what does she wear? I look in her closet at the few clothes that actually made it to hangers, and what do I find? An almost new pair of jeans that, guess what... no you'll never guess... they fit, perfect length too.... smh.

The moral of my story? There is no moral. Just a dire warning: Beware the teenage girl... and at 12 years old, it's only just beginning...

Laugh or cry?

So I've always (affectionately) referred to my 8 year old as "Bad Boy". He doesn't particularly care for it at the moment, so I only do it in those moments when he is in the mood to not have a meltdown... And only I'm allowed to call him that.

Anyway, Bad Boy is incredibly smart, a little mischievous and very independent (which basically means he hates being told what to do and has those meltdowns I mentioned earlier when he doesn't get his own way). We're going through a transitional period at home, naturally, because of the divorce, and sadly, Bad Boy has been somewhat caught in the middle. I have tried to  keep the kids from most of the drama, unfortunately, my ex is not so mature and has recently relaunched his campaign of blackening my name. This of course has a negative effect on the boys. My Baby, the 7 year old, has been mostly immune as he's always been mama's boy. Bad Boy is what I refer to as a neutral party, like Switzerland.

As all kids do, Bad Boy is going through this phase testing the waters to see how far he can take advantage. Yesterday lunchtime I receive a phone call from the Principle of his school, which I let go to voicemail as I was on a call to my manager in California. When I listened to the message this is what I heard (names have been changed to protect the innocent):

"I have Bad Boy here in the office with me and he had told the substitute teacher that he has a peanut allergy and that mom had given him a PB&J sandwich. The teacher panicked and sent him to the office...."

Now at this point, I am DYING with hysterics in the reception area of my office. Bad Boy's favourite sandwich: PB&J. Bad Boy's favourite snack: PB&J crackers. Bad Boy has been known to eat Peanut Butter straight out the jar (what kid, without an allergy, hasn't?). So I calmly call the Principle back, inform her in polite words that he's full of it, and allowed her to inflict whatever 'punishment' she deemed appropriate. That punishment was to sit in her office until he confessed why he lied.

The challenging part was how do I have a serious and meaningful discussion with him about why what he did was so wrong, while keeping a straight face?? Well, you'll be pleased to know I managed it. It took a few hours, I had to repeat the story several times first, but he now understands that allergies are very serious. Ok, so I may have used parental license to lie and say that he may have been the recipient of an epi-shot had someone had one in the room and that's very painful and very dangerous..... So he agreed to apologise. And is clear on the fact that using ANY bogus excuse to get out of class is unacceptable.

However, I see a very long relationship with each of his Principles in my future... we're only in 3rd grade... sigh!

Dear Tooth Fairy... You're Fired!

I feel terrible. I lied to my child. I arrived home from work last night to be cheerfully greeted by my 8 year old, sporting a huge grin displaying a newly created gap where a tooth should have been. "Pulled it out in class" He proudly declares.

Well first of all I'm mortified that I wasn't aware of just how wobbly this tooth was... The adult tooth was already halfway errupted and resembled somewhat of a fang. I should have paid more attention. I did a quick mental inventory of the contents of my wallet and established that I had a couple of $5's, $10's and a stack of $20's. Sigh. Gonna have to get change. No big deal, I'm heading to the gym later, I'll stop at the gas station for some Gatorade and break a $20. Perfect.

Not perfect. I bought two Gatorade's one for before and one for recovery afterwards as I had planned a grueling cardio session. My change from $20? $15. And I was so preoccupied, I didn't realise until I was halfway down the road that I needed some $1's. Sigh.

I return from the gym and the children have been successfully tucked up in bed by the 12 year old. No, not quite 100% successful as I hear  the 6 year old "I can't sleep". My response: "OK, get back up and clean up your room" thinking this would elicit a 'never mind' response. Nope. They both (8 and 6) bounce up and clean their room and the loft!! Miracle! And then 15 minutes later they are tucked up back in bed.

I shower, and hit the sack myself by 10:30. And then wake up at 11:45. I don't return to sleep until approximately 30 minutes before the FIRST alarm goes off at 4:15am. I am supposed to get up and knock out 20 minutes of zumba, but I'm tired, hit snooze and roll over. I do this for the next hour or so... And am woken up at 6:15 by the 8 year old: "The tooth fairy didn't give me any money, but she took my tooth." Oh. My. God. I had forgotten! And at this bleary hour of the morning, I cannot think as fast as usual, I mumble something vague about getting dressed because we've already missed the bus and I'll call the Tooth Fairy and fire her. (I thought that was smart, I don't know why).

I take a sneak opportunity to check the bed for the tooth and find that it has indeed vanished! WTF? Oh well, I slip 4 quarters (yes I know, the Tooth Fairy is on a budget in my house) under his pillow while they are getting in the car. My story? The Tooth Fairy was also running late this morning, and hadn't finished the job before you woke up, so she hid until you were gone! WOW, isn't that dedicated? I guess we can rehire her?

I will update you on just how gullible my children are if I am able to pull this stunt off this evening. The 6 year old, who will be 7 in a mere 9 days, has yet to lose a tooth... I'm in trouble...

**UPDATE** Well, the Tooth Fairy was able to salvage her job! Upon returning home from school, my son found the $1 under his pillow. Ironically, it was the 6 year old who asked "Did you call her? What did she say?" My response? "She apologised, but she was interrupted while retrieving the tooth and had to hide until you went to school so she could leave the money." Yes, it was that simple.

Unfortunately, I still have one more child to get through this stage....