...but, I'm really good at Math.

Pleasing gone awry....

2010-06-23T16:37:00.001-07:00

It's true. I h ate to admit it. But, I want to appear practically perfect in every way to every one at all times. Maybe I should bring this up in therapy.

So, a few weeks back, I was in Atlanta with my two sisters. I was driving in the car with my oldest sister when she mentioned the dilemma she was having with her new GPS. It is one of those talking GPS devices that tell you in its best flight attendant voice when to turn and how to get where you are suppose to be going. The problem was that when she disobeyed the GPS to pull off for gas or a bathroom break, it would become very obstinate in a very vocal way. We were laughing about how it would insist she turn around and the guilt she was experiencing by not following its every command. As I recall her exact expression was, "I am trying to please an inanimate object."

So, I found my own pleasing gene coming out this last week. Remember the curb and the tire and the strut and the spindle and the big expense that came with it all. Well, I had a friend ask me last night, "Why didn't you just file an insurance claim?" Um...because I've never filed an insurance claim. In my close to two decades of driving, I have never filed a claim. I have received one ticket, but I went to traffic school so that my insurance record would never see it. In fact, my husband and I are the coveted customers of every car insurance company out there. I am sure there are executives out there right now that have had full meetings on how to get and keep customers of such caliber. And, for some unknown reason, I didn't want to ruin that. I wanted to please some entity. I didn't want to worry about mentioning an incident when I called to price my insurance. I liked telling the phone representatives that we are perfect in every way that matters to them. Don't try to understand it.

So, last night, I did the math and realized they would have to raise our premium by a whole lot for a very long time to justify me not making a claim on this - even with the $500 deductible. So, I called. And I made our very first car insurance claim. And the girl on the other end was very nice and the whole process was extremely easy. And, if all goes well, we should be getting a decent sized check in the mail soon.

Now, if I can just figure out how to use this new found assertiveness towards the pest control salesmen that troll our neighborhood....

Emergency Fund

2010-06-15T10:47:00.001-07:00

So, when you're good at math and that sort of thing, family finances come pretty easy. With my vast actuarial experience, I have created spreadsheets galore predicting our financial future under different scenarios and documenting our past. Its kind of a hobby for me, much like cross-stitching or gardening might be if I did either of those things.

I seemed to have run across a problem, though. While the "documenting our past" worksheets are doing a great job and their accuracy is amazing, those predicting the future ones have been failing miserably. Apparently my life, the universe and the stock market are unaware that I even have these spreadsheets.

June has been one of those months when life hasn't quite matched up with the spreadsheets...and we are only half way through. Some of it has been intentional. The PMS-induced painting frenzy earlier this month was probably not a strict necessity. And, I probably should have included the Cub Scout day camp in the original numbers. Still, we might have recovered from these deviations without incident.

But, then the came the storm. I'm not alluding to anything here - it was an actual storm with wind and rain and lightning and flying tree branches, some of which apparently landed on the street. In fact, one in particular landed on the very street that my husband takes home from work. Now, for a little back story:

When my husband was a teenager, he had an incident in his father's T-bird involving a tree branch. At the time, the tree branch had looked innocent enough, but two blown tires later, he had a true understanding of the danger that tree branches on the street really hold.

So, back to the story. As my husband approached the tree branch, his gut screamed, "Don't hit the tree branch. Anything but the tree branch. You will pop your tires. Volvo tires are $300 a piece. Don't do it. Save the car." So, he swerved....and he didn't hit the tree branch. He hit the curb. Hard. And, guess what? Curbs can do bad things to tires too. And struts. And other parts I can't even remember the names of. But I do know one thing. This definitely wasn't in the June spreadsheet. It wasn't even within the realms of the wriggle room I leave in the spreadsheet. No manipulation of numbers was fixing this.

Then it occurred to me. This was an unexpected event requiring immediate attention - the very definition of an emergency. Wait! I have a spreadsheet for that! And, somehow, out of this disaster, I felt a sense of calm and satisfaction. Because, there was a budget for this very thing - the emergency fund. Now, let's just hope that July and August go well. After all, I don't have another emergency of this magnitude in the budget until at least September.

Alliterative Weekend

2010-06-05T11:23:00.000-07:00

Last weekend I was in Atlanta visiting with family and my little sister informed me that I had been a major slacker in the blog arena. I had no choice but to agree and to promise future blog posts. So, here is my first attempt in six months at chronicling my fascinating and blog-worthy life.

The kids got out of school on Thursday and, so far, this weekend seems to have taken on a theme. Experiences that would seemly be tied in no other way all have a commonality and, being a math person who is constantly trying to make order of the universe - this was quite calming to my sensibilities.

So, today started the third paleo challenge at my gym. Don't worry, I'm not going to subject you to day after day of menus and caveman-like eating options. In fact, I didn't even officially sign up. I'm just going to try to do my best to follow it in the hopes that the ten pounds that I have gained since the last challenge will find a new home.

Then, on Friday afternoon, I decided that I had a great idea for a project. I was going to paint the kitchen. But, if you've seen my house, that pretty much means painting the entire downstairs. We have one of those "open" floor plans. Yes, the house is only 5 years old, but the builder put flat paint in my kitchen and I have three boys and a husband that likes to cook - need I say more. So, I headed to the Benjamin Moore store with a quest - eggshell paint of such quality that it would only take an amateur to apply it, but would have the stamina to withstand the rigors of 6 sticky hands for decades to come. After two trips and some blind faith in a twenty-something paint store employee to match my color, I came home with three completely overpriced gallons of the "Aura" line of paint and the promise that it will take my walls to a new level of snobbery.

This all would have been fine and well, except last night I started to feel a little pain in my general abdominal region. At first I thought a short trip to the powder room would remedy the situation, but then I realized that whatever was ailing me was not going to take the proper path. So, I vomited - several times. Nobody else in the family got sick and I seem to feel fine this morning - so I am wondering if I just got some mild food poisoning. This has delayed the painting some. Also....did anyone else realize how absolutely crazy it is to try and tape a kitchen to be painted. I'm only hoping that the actual painting of the kitchen is easier.

So, in short, this has been a paleo, painting, painful, possibly poisoned weekend.

Paleo Challenge: The Last Week

2009-10-03T16:04:00.000-07:00

So, the Paleo Challenge ended today. I didn't slip up even once during the four week trial, though my blogging efforts were not as diligent towards the end.

So, here are my thoughts on the Paleo diet. It was more expensive. Eating fresh fruits and vegetables (or even frozen for that matter) and meat and nuts is much more costly than eating macaroni and cheese or pb&j. It just is. I used to brag that Brig and I could live on $100 a month for food when we were first married. Not only was that a million years ago and food prices (and the size of our family) have gone up, but we eat better food now. So, if we continue with this diet, which we plan to do (with a few cheats each week), we will just need to increase the grocery portion of our budget accordingly.

Secondly, I have had more energy. I haven't had the dramatic bursts of energy that one has after a ice cream shake, but I have had more consistent energy. I do appreciate not having to deal with the lows that come after a carbohydrate induced high.

Thirdly, I did lose a little weight. Unlike my husband who lost a lot of weight and doesn't need to lose any at all, I only dropped a few pounds. Technically, I was at a completely normal weight to start with, so that wasn't the real goal of this, but, as a self-conscious female, I didn't mind this as a side-effect.

Fourthly, my gym performance did improve. I have never been an athlete and I will probably never be one no matter how many life adjustments I make, but I feel like I am doing the best that I can with what I have to work with.

Some other notes:

1. I really, really like sweet stuff and I don't think I could continue this diet indefinitely without cheats built in. Life is just too short.

2. The Chipotle we had today as an "it's over" celebration was absolutely heavenly. Unfortunately, my stomach was not used to being filled in such a matter and there was a little gastrointestinal rebellion to deal with later.

3. My boys are not that hip on the idea of mom and dad continuing the Paleo diet.

Anyway, that's it about the Paleo for now, though I may mention it in other blog posts further down the road. I now return you to your regular programming of boy stories and math follies.

Paleo Challenge: Days #20 & #21

2009-09-27T17:17:00.000-07:00

Well the challenge ends on Saturday. So, this was really the last full weekend that I had to make it through. On Saturday morning, I had an apple and some nuts and headed out the door to the gym. The WOD was:

With a Team of 4

As Many Reps As Possible in 20 Minutes:

Deadlift, for reps

Burpees, for reps

*RULES*

1. Only 2 persons working at one time

2. Score = combined total of reps for DL/Burpees

Our team managed a respectable 570 reps in 20 minutes. I wasn't as helpful as I would have liked to have been on the Burpees, but I did a respectable number of deadlifts at 95 lbs.

I went straight to the grocery store after that and found what are becoming the usual foods at our house. Lots of fruits and vegetables, eggs, meat, and nuts. Then I headed home and had a peach, some carrots, and some turkey for lunch.

About 3:00, I had a banana and some pecans and then Brig and I went out for dinner last night. We decided that the safest option was a steakhouse. I had an 8 oz. Filet Mignon with steamed broccoli and a side salad, though I had to pick off the croutons. We spent the remainder of the night in my most favorite of places - a book store. And now, I have all new reading material to distract me through this last week of deprivation.

Sunday morning was busy as usual. I grabbed a banana and some pecans before heading off to church. Lunch was a little turkey, two peaches, some nuts and some fresh veges. Dinner was steak (again - don't tell), spaghetti squash and grilled sweet red onions. I also had a little apple cider with which I figure is okay since the only ingredient on the label was apples.

My evening snack was a pear and some pecans.

The kids have school off tomorrow which will make the day a little harder, but I am amazingly busy the rest of the week and I hope it flies by. I am really craving a Chipotle burrito with that lime-cilantro rice in it about now.

Paleo Challenge: Days #18 & 19

2009-09-25T10:18:00.001-07:00

Yesterday night I taught an evening class, which also meant that I took a day off from the gym. I had some roast beef and a banana for breakfast. Lunch was a salad with turkey, the last of the pecans, mushrooms, green pepper and a few tomatoes. I ate an apple at about two and then made a quick dinner of poached eggs and carrots before running off to teach. When I came home last night, I was ravenous. I ate two more poached eggs, an apple, some grapes, some almonds and a little more turkey. I'll let you decide what was a meal and what was a snack in there.

Today has been a little more calm, but unfortunately we are running low on food. I managed to grab an apple and some almonds before heading out the door to the gym. The WOD today was:

21-15-9 reps for time:

Pull-ups

Thrusters

Ring Dips

I did every single pull-up without any assistance. This is huge for me as I usually resort to some sort of rubber band. I was also the only girl in the gym at the time that was doing the pull-ups without assistance, so that felt pretty good. Of course, the rest of the workout made up for it. We were suppose to use 65 lbs on our thrusters. I started with 65 lbs and about 3 thrusters in, I realized that was not going to happen - especially since the first round had 21 reps. I took off the ten pound weights on each end and just ended up on using the 45 # bar. I also had to use a rubber band (albeit a small one) to get through all of my ring dips. I think that I made the workout hard enough for me though, because I came home exhausted. It also took me 22 minutes to do which was one of the slower times posted today.

I came home and by the time I showered and went through Speech Therapy with Mike, it was time for lunch. His peanut butter and honey sandwich looked so good, especially since I had no idea what I was going to eat. I finally found a bag of vegetables in the freezer that I could steam in the microwave and a frozen chicken breast. I ate all 4 servings of the carrots, broccoli, and cauliflower while I waited for my chicken to cook. I have been so ravenous lately that serving size no longer applies as far as I'm concerned.

My afternoon snack was a few almonds on the way out the door to a primary function. Dinner was strawberries, almonds, and two poached eggs. My evening snack was some carrots.

Paleo Challenge: Day #17

2009-09-24T08:17:00.000-07:00

Once again, I am running a day behind on blogging about my Paleo Challenge efforts. Yesterday morning was a rough morning in class and I think it wore me out for the whole day. I got up early and made a wonderful breakfast of poached eggs, carrots and an apple. I know it sounds like an interesting combination, but really, it was quite tasty.

Lunch was a salad with baby greens, mushrooms, carrots, and turkey. I also had about a fourth of a cup of almonds and some grapes on the side. I had a few more almonds and a banana as a snack before I headed out the door to the gym. The WOD for yesterday was:

Warm-up

500m Row

15 Pull-ups (work on kip)

Press PVC Skill work

WOD

Press

1 – 1 – 1 – 1 – 1 – 1 – 1, find 1RM

*1 RM = 1 Rep Max

I was only able to get to 65 pounds before maxing out on my press. It is amazing to me how much more weight I can press when I am allowed the small dip before which constitutes a push-press. During the warm-up, I was able to do my pull-ups unassisted (no bands) in sets of 3.

I actually ate my second snack of almonds and some carrots right after the gym so that I could shower and take my son to a scout night at a bookstore. Then I came home to a late dinner of stuffed green peppers. My husband had put everything from mushrooms to eggs to carrots in with the ground beef, but no rice or breadcrumbs. They were very delicious. He did a great job.

I've only got just over a week more of this challenge. I will post all of my thoughts about how it went at the end, but as a quick interlude, I wanted to note that while I don't love the deprivation, I have loved the fact that my blood sugar isn't all over the place.

Paleo Challenge: Day #15 & 16

2009-09-22T16:37:00.000-07:00

Mondays are my especially long days. I teach until past 10:00 p.m., and when I made it home last night, I went straight to bed.

So, the last two days I have made peace with this diet. Instead of trying to fit it into my normalcy, I have just given up and gone with what feels right. So, instead of 3 meals and two snacks each day, I feel like I am eating constantly. Yesterday, I had a several pieces of fruit, some steamed vegetables, some turkey, plenty of nuts and two poached eggs. They were pretty much spread out and nothing was really a "meal". But, I wasn't hungry and I felt fine through my marathon four hour math class.

Today was pretty much the same, except we did have a sit down dinner of crock pot roast, sliced pears, broccoli, carrots and cauliflower. It was very tasty and I am full.

I didn't make it to the gym yesterday and I usually don't on Mondays, but I did make it this afternoon. The WOD was:

5 Rounds for time:

400m Run

15 KTE’s

20 Wall Balls

25 Push-ups

I finished in 32:15, which was about in the middle of where most people finished. I wasn't using quite as heavy of a medicine ball on the wall balls as I should have, but I think it was right for me today. Wall balls have always been a weakness of mine - along with anything that requires coordination.

Paleo Challenge: Day #14

2009-09-21T04:34:00.001-07:00

I am writing this on Monday. I've been pretty good to post on the day of so far for this challenge, but I was not feeling well last night and ended up on opting for an early bed time.

Breakfast yesterday was a banana and some walnuts. I spoke in church and had to hurry out the door fast to make sure I was there with time to spare. Lunch was some turkey, a salad, a peach and some orange juice. I had a snack of a pear and some almonds before dinner.

Dinner was an interesting mix of experimental food. We had a salad with tomatoes, carrots and sweet habanero peppers. We also ate grilled portabella mushrooms, asparagus, sauted baby eggplant, and grapes.

I had an evening snack of a peach and some almonds.

Paleo Challenge: Day #13

2009-09-19T18:41:00.000-07:00

Well, the challenge ends two weeks from today. I will make it.

Breakfast this morning was a pear, some nuts and two eggs. There wasn't much in the house, so I just scraped together what I could. Then I headed off to the gym for the 9:30 WOD. The WOD today was:

2 Person team will complete:

800m Relay Run

80 Wall Balls

80 SDLHP

80 Box Jumps

800m Relay Run

80 Push-Press

80 Burpees

80 Sit-ups

800m Relay Run

The girl I was paired up with is a Sargent in the ROTC and was a lot better than I was. We ended up on having to take some of the weight off for the SDLHP and Push-Presses, so that I could complete my part. We finished up in 43:15.

I made it to the store before lunch and so I had a bunch of fresh fruit and veges along with some turkey for lunch.

My afternoon snack was some nuts and a peach.

We had dinner out with the rest of the crossfit people at BD's Mongolian Grill. It was quite a feast and good times with our fellow gym friends, though some were almost unrecognizable in their made-up non-gym state.

I was stuffed after dinner, but in the spirit of the challenge, I am currently eating an evening snack - a single golden delicious apple.

Paleo Challenge: Day #12

2009-09-18T17:45:00.000-07:00

Food was running low and there was a lot going on today. I don't think I really had enough to eat today, mainly because the Paleo options left in the house were not necessarily fast or easy. I had to be up to Breckinridge Elementary at 8:00 this morning for more assessments on Michael, and I woke up later than I should have, so I just grabbed a bag of pecans and some grapes on the way out the door.

We made it back home around ten and Michael was acting a little under the weather. I let him watch TV for a while and then had a few slices of turkey with a nectarine and called it lunch. We both went down for a nap after that. I had a small snack before the gym - just some nuts and some grapes again.

The WOD today was:

For time:

400m Run

2 Hang Power Cleans

4 Push-Presses

10 KTE’s

4 Hang Power Cleans

8 Push-Presses

10 KTE’s

6 Hang Power Cleans

12 Push-Presses

10 KTE’s

4 Hang Power Cleans

8 Push-Presses

10 KTE’s

2 Hang Power Cleans

4 Push-Presses

10 KTE’s

400m Run

I started with a 75 # weight, but ended up on just going down to the 45# bar for the last two sets of Cleans and Push-Presses. I've got to make it to the gym tomorrow as well to get in my last WOD for this week. The challenge ends on October 3rd, which is two weeks from tomorrow. So, I am almost halfway there.

Dinner was some poached eggs and veges. And I had an evening snack of walnuts and another nectarine. Now, I'm off to get my 8+ hours of sleep - the part of the challenge that I am really good at.

Paleo Challenge: Day #11

2009-09-17T18:32:00.000-07:00

So, this morning started out with a not quite ripe nectarine, nuts and some turkey. That seems to be the breakfast for me lately since it is as quick as cereal and still fills me up enough to last a few hours. Lunch was another salad with turkey, strawberries, pecans, grapes, and carrots topping romaine lettuce. Dinner was poached eggs and fruit. I had several small snacks scattered in there as well - mostly nuts, fruit, carrots, and meat.

I taught this evening, so this has been another busy day. It has been inconvenient to not be able to grab a bowl of cereal or a granola bar, but we've had plenty of alternatives and I've felt pretty good.

I didn't do a workout today. I do plan to do the WOD tomorrow and Saturday.

Paleo Challenge: Day #10

2009-09-16T18:22:00.000-07:00

Hey, we're into double digits. I will live. This morning I woke up after a full 10 hours of sleep to a breakfast of applesauce, turkey and walnuts. It has been 4 days since the shopping trip and food is starting to get scarce. I went off to teach and had an interesting morning in my Math class. I am starting to believe that no matter how hard I try there will always be students that stubbornly refuse to learn. Still, that belief depresses me some, so I try not to actually go there.

Lunch was a salad of romaine lettuce, carrots, chicken, pecans, and purple grapes. As weird as the combination may sound, it was actually quite tasty. Then after carpools, homework and piano practice, and a fast snack of grapes and turkey we were off to the gym. The WOD today was so convoluted that I am forced to cut and paste it from the gym's website. Here it is:

21 KB Swings 53/35 lbs

100m Run

21 Pull-ups

100m Run Backwards

15 KB Swings

100m Run

15 Pull-ups

100m Run Backwards

9 KB Swings

100m Run

9 Pull-ups

100m Run Backwards

100m Bear Crawl to finish

Yeah. It wasn't as bad as it looks though. I finished up in 11 minutes 35 seconds.

Dinner was pork chops, the rest of the grapes, carrots, broccoli and cauliflower. I was able to stop at the grocery store this evening for some more fruit. Hooray. We now have pears and nectarines and strawberries in the house.

Evening snack was some fruit and nuts.

Paleo Challenge: Day #9

2009-09-15T15:55:00.000-07:00

What a crazy day. I usually post some through out the day, but here I am at the end of the day eating pecans at my computer and trying to remember what I ate today.

Breakfast was applesauce, nuts and some turkey. I went out to lunch with Brig to Chick-fil-a and got the same salad that I did on Saturday - not filling, but it meets the requirements. The rest of my "meals" today have been snacks. I've had applesauce, grapes, carrots, all kinds of nuts, and three poached eggs at various times between about 2:30 p.m. and now. I have not had anything that doesn't fit the list of foods we were given and even though my meals were not defined, I believe I get all points for eating under the spirit of the law.

The workout today was short, but difficult for me. One of the hardest moves at the gym for me is the basic squat. While others jump in and out of these like there's nothing to it, I am slow. Maybe it is because I am so tall and have a long way to go down. That must be it. Anyway, the workout was:

4 rounds:

400 meter run
50 squats

So, for those of you doing the math, that is a total of 200 squats. The coaches watch carefully to make sure that we go "all the way down" every single time. They put a medicine ball under us and make sure we touch it each time. Pure torture for me. I finished the workout in 17:45. I was the second to last person in the group to finish which meant that I got to be cheered on by all of the other who were done with their workout first. Hooray!

Still, in the spirit of optimism, I must say that while I totally suck at squats, I am an ace number one sleeper. While the others at the gym complain about their inability to sleep for 8 hours, I still feel deprived after 9. Sleeping 8 hours a night has been the easiest part of this challenge for me. Go me.

Paleo Challenge: Day #8

2009-09-14T08:20:00.001-07:00

After getting the two older boys off to school this morning, I sat down to a lovely breakfast of Walnuts, Turkey and a Nectarine. The speech therapist for Michael was a little late and by the time she left, going to the gym today was out of the question. I had a feeling that it might go that way.

Lunch was absolutely delicious. I sauted the last of the sirloin with some mushrooms and served a romaine salad with pecans, baby yellow tomatoes and yellow raspberries on the side. Michael had peanut butter and honey with a big glass of milk. I was okay with our separate lunches until he had a frosted cookie for dessert. I could have used one of those. I'll have to put that on the list of things to eat once this month ends.

One thing I wanted to talk about in this blog entry is the cost of this diet. Brig and I are finding that we spend about 50% more on groceries trying to follow this. We usually spend about $100 a week and it has been closer to $140-150 a week the last two weeks. Part of the reason is that our children are not following the diet and so we are buying ingredients for two sets of meals or at least extras for them. We usually make them have the same main dish, but they get theirs with milk and bread and such. Most of the reason, though, is that we are replacing cheap sides such as rice and potatoes with expensive produce.

I was talking to my mom last night and she questioned whether or not the diet was healthy since it is essentially cutting out two of the main food groups (dairy and grains). I told her that I have done some research and I honestly don't know since there is so much going both ways. I told her that I figure that 28 days of it probably wouldn't kill me though, since I lived on ramen and pizza for full months at the time in college and lived to tell about it. I also promised her that if my teeth starting falling out before the experiment was over that I would definitely start drinking milk again right away :)

Because of my four hour evening class, the two snacks and dinner were more like three large snacks. Early afternoon I had some turkey and another nectarine. I had some pecans and two poached eggs right before I left for class. When I got home from class I ate the last nectarine (must buy more tomorrow) and some walnuts.

Now, I better get off to bed if I expect to get my sleep in.

Paleo Challenge: Day #7

2009-09-13T09:38:00.000-07:00

So, I was in a rush to get to church on time this morning, which didn't happen anyway, but in my efforts, I had a very light breakfast - just a banana and a small handful of almonds. As a result, I was absolutely ravenous by the time I made it home. It didn't help that treats were being given out left and right at church. I really could have used a handful of those jelly beans.

So, here was what lunch was (in this order):

A sliced nectarine
Sliced Sirloin (leftovers) sauted with mushrooms.
A handful of Pecans
A handful of yellow baby tomatoes
Another sliced nectarine with a bunch of sliced strawberries.

I think I was having some blood sugar issues, because the only thing that sounded good and seemed satisfying was sweet. Luckily we have plenty of fruit in the house.

My afternoon snack was a bunch of pecans. I wasn't especially hungry after lunch.

Dinner was:

Sockeye Salmon
Butternut Squash
Mixed Veges (Carrots, Cauliflower, and Broccoli)

The butternut squash tasted very good to me. It has a slightly sweet flavor, which almost tasted like candy at this point in the game even though I hadn't added anything to it. I guess sweetness is a relative thing, since I'm sure if I were serving it with ice cream and cake, it probably wouldn't have gone as quickly as it did or at all.

I will admit that I have started to fantasize some about my post Paleo month first dinner. I am thinking either Chipotle or something with bread. Still, there are three more weeks to go, so I better not think too hard about it.

My evening snack was:

Walnuts
Turkey
Yellow Raspberries

I don't think I will have time to do a WOD tomorrow between Michael's speech therapy in the morning and teaching tomorrow evening, so unless some miraculous time shows up in my schedule, I will end up with gym time on Tuesday, Wednesday, Friday and Saturday again.

Paleo Challenge: Day #6

2009-09-12T09:56:00.001-07:00

I am starting to feel better today. Really, I am. I woke up this morning to realize that we had basically no food in our house, so I grabbed an apple for breakfast and was off to the gym.

The WOD for today was interesting. We were in teams of three. Brig was up doing a scout thing, so I was on my own. Luckily I found two friends of similar skill level and we were off. The runs were all done together and the other was split up with one person working at the time.

400 m run
100 Sumo Dead Lift High Pulls (SDLHP)
100 Push-ups
400 m run
75 SDLHP
75 Push-ups
400 m run
50 SDLHP
50 Push-ups

Our team finished up in 24:11

After the gym, Michael was crying for pizza and I knew I wouldn't be able to go shopping until Brig got home (three boys and me in the grocery store is pretty scary) - so I made a compromise. We did go out to lunch, but we went to Chick-fil-a, where at least I knew I could find a Paleo option. So, for lunch, I had their Chargrilled Chicken and fruit salad minus the cheese and dressing. I also didn't add on the packet of granola they gave me. I was still hungry after finishing this and my water up and so I've been snacking all afternoon. We did have watermelon at home, but after Brig stepped in the door, I made the trek down the street to the Saturday Farmer's market. I came home with yellow raspberries, sweet habaneros, baby eggplant, baby yellow tomatoes and a various other peppers. My afternoon snack has mainly comprised of watermelon, yellow raspberries and sweet habaneros.

Before Dinner, we made our way to Meijer and now our house is full of food again and it is wonderful. Dinner was absolutely divine. We had a grilled sirloin steak, salad, and steamed vegetables (carrots, broccoli, and cauliflower). I had a small dish of green grapes for dessert.

My evening snack was a nectarine, some sliced chicken and some almonds. I actually feel quite full and satisfied right now. A big change from earlier this week.

We have sockeye salmon on the menu for tomorrow and some leftover steak to put on our lunch salad. This challenge is much easier when we have food in the house.

Paleo Challenge: Day #5

2009-09-11T15:47:00.000-07:00

Are we really only on Day #5? This is going to be a very long month and I am starting to seriously question my ability to do this. My husband and I ate different meals yesterday, which turns out to be a good thing, because he got ill last night - the kind of ill that requires way too much time in the restroom. Poor guy. We think it was food poisoning, but haven't traced it back to any one food that he ate.

Sleep: 8 Hours

So, this morning I started the day with breakfast and went off to teach a class. One of my fellow Math instructors is playing best man in a wedding this weekend and so I got to teach the first day of his class. The class went well and I felt fine through it all.

Breakfast:

1 Apple
Handful of Walnuts and Almonds

Lunch:

Some Turkey Breast (about 3 oz)
1 Banana
More Nuts

Snack #1:

1 Apple
1 Banana

Dinner:

Chicken Breast
Sauted Yellow and Green Peppers.
1 Apple
A few strawberries

Snack #2:
Frozen Strawberries
1 Banana
A few Walnuts

The WOD today was brutal. I took me over 48 minutes to finish. It was as follows:

800 m Run
25 Squat Cleans
50 Pull-ups
400 m Farmer's Walk
50 Pull-ups
25 Squat Cleans
800 m Run

The pull-ups killed me. I was doing them in sets of 1 and 2 by the end. The squat cleans probably would have killed me as well, but I was only lifting the bar instead of adding the extra weight to bring it to 65 lbs as was prescribed for women. My form isn't real great on cleans yet, so it was probably for the best.

Anyway, I am glad it is Friday and I am looking forward to going to the grocery store tomorrow since we are running low on food and the selection has been quite limited. I don't know how many more apples and bananas I can take.

Paleo Challenge: Day #4

2009-09-10T09:20:00.000-07:00

There seems to be a discrepency between what I thought was the point system and what is the point system. Since I have yet to figure it out, I'll ignore that part for now and continue to follow the rules as closely as possible.

In general, I am feeling deprived right now. Though I feel like I am getting plenty of food and calories, I am still craving bread and carbs in general. I don't feel as sluggish today as I did yesterday, though. Of course, that may change after I teach my class tonight. At least today is a rest day from the gym.

Sleep: 8+ Hours. I was exhausted when I went to bed last night and slept deep. None of the usual tossing and turning.

Breakfast:

1 Banana
Some Turkey
Handful of Almonds and Walnuts

Lunch:

Baby Greens Salad with
Carrots
Deli Turkey
Cherry Tomatoes
Walnuts
Cucumbers

1/2 cup green grapes

Snack #1:

Nectarine
Almonds

Dinner:

2 Boiled Eggs
Apple
Walnuts

Snack #2:

1 Boiled Egg
Apple
Almonds

Tomorrow morning I am substituting for another teacher and the WOD for tomorrow looks like it is going to be brutal. I will be lucky to still be standing at the end of the day.

Paleo Challenge: Day #3

2009-09-09T10:38:00.000-07:00

So, you are probably all shocked that I am still doing this. But, yes, it's true. We are three whole days into the challenge and I am still on the bandwagon. Today was my first day of classes for this quarter. The students in my Wednesday morning seem to be a good bunch. There were a few absent, so I'll reserve final judgment until next week, but I am optimistic.

I am still struggling with a bit of a "sugar withdrawal headache." I made an executive decision that Tylenol would have to be Paleo if I was going to make it through class today. The workout this afternoon was very hard on me though. I felt faint a few times. I guess my body hasn't quite adjusted to the slower energy sources it is getting.

So, here's the rundown for today:

Sleep: 2 pts.

Do we even need to ask anymore? Have I ever not got at least 8 hours of sleep? My husband is not convinced that my sleeping patterns are normal. But, after many years of marriage, he has learned to accept certain things.

Breakfast: 1 pt.

A few slices of Deli Turkey
Some Almonds
Sliced Strawberries

Lunch: 1 pt.

Salad with:
Lettuce
Carrots
Walnuts
Mushrooms
Cucumbers
Pink Salmon
Sliced Strawberries
Plus, 3/4 cup of green grapes on the side.

Snack #1: 1 pt.

1 Nectarine
Turkey
Almonds

Crossfit WOD: 3 pts.

As many rounds as possible in 15 minutes:

5 Burpees
10 Kettlebell Swings
15 Wall Balls

I made it through 6 rounds plus a set of Burpees. It was a very hard workout for me.

Dinner: 1 pt.

Pork Loin
Veges - About a cup
1/4 avocado
1 banana

Snack #2: 1 pt.

Apple
Turkey
Walnuts

Total points for today: 10 pts.

Paleo Challenge: Day #2

2009-09-08T06:22:00.000-07:00

Real life started back up today. J had an orthodontist appointment at 8:00 a.m. and then I had to go to a parent's only orientation at Michael's preschool at 10:00 a.m. Brig informed me that we were starting to run low on the "easy paleo food", which means the deli meat and nuts are running low. We still have plenty of food, it just requires actual preparation. Fortunately, I was able to make a quick stop at Kroger on the way home from the orthodontists and stock up on a little more deli meat.

So, here's the rundown for today.

Sleep: 2 pts.

8+ hours last night. As I said before, this is not an issue for me. I actually don't function well on anything less than 8.

Breakfast: 1 pt.

The rest of the chicken breast- about 4 oz.
1 nectarine.
A few almonds.
A handful of raspberries.

Lunch: 1 pt.

Leftovers from last night:
(Spaghetti Squash
Chicken Breast
Red Peppers
Mushrooms)
A Handful of Pecans.

Snack #1: 1 pt

A Banana
Some Almonds
A few slices of Deli Turkey

Crossfit WOD: 3 pts

Fran - 3 rounds 21/15/9 of Thrusters and Pull-ups.
I finished in 11:29 using a 45# bar for thrusters and a red band for the pull-ups.

Dinner: 1 pt

2 poached eggs
3 slices turkey bacon
1/2 cup sliced strawberries

Snack #2: 1 pt.

1 Nectarine
1/4 cup Walnuts
2 slices Deli Turkey

Total for today: 10 pts.

Paleo Challenge: Day #1

2009-09-07T07:11:00.000-07:00

So, it's official today and what a wonderful day to start this whole endeavor. So, here are the official rules of the challenge.

5 pts each day for eating strict Paleo; 1 point for each meal you eat and 1 point for each snack you eat.

3 pts each day you work out at Crossfit - with a maximum of 12 pts a week.

2 pts each day for sleeping at least 8 hours at night.

The gym is closed today due to the Labor Day holiday, so I don't plan on doing a WOD today, but I do have plans to go four times this week. Tuesday, Wednesday, Friday and Saturday will be my workout days this week.

So, here's the rundown of today:

Last night I slept 8+ hours: 2 points

Breakfast: 1 point

3 oz Turkey Breast
1 cup Green Grapes
1/4 cup Red Raspberries
Water

Lunch: 1 point

Lunch consisted of a salad so yummy that it didn't need dressing. I started with a plate of romaine lesson and shredded carrots and then topped it with chicken breast, almonds, cherry tomatoes, sliced mushrooms and strawberries. It was truly beautiful and if I posted pictures on my blog, it would be worthy.

Snack #1: 1 point

1 large peach
A small handful of Almonds

Dinner: 1 point

About a cup of Spaghetti Squash topped with a stir fry. The stir fry consisted of a little olive oil, chicken breast, red peppers and sliced mushrooms.
1 cup Papaya

Snack #2: 1 point

Small handful of Pecans
Two slices Turkey Deli Meat
3/4 cup green grapes

Point total for today: 7 pts.

Dry Run

2009-09-06T14:14:00.001-07:00

The challenge doesn't officially start until tomorrow, but since we successfully ate up most of the junk in our house yesterday, I decided to try a dry run today.

Sleep: I'm not telling, but let's just say that it was well over 8 hours. My sweet husband let me sleep in :)

Exercise: None today, unless you count folding a pile of laundry the size of Seattle.

Breakfast:
1 Very Large Peach
2-3 slices Deli Turkey
Small handful of Raspberries

Snack:
Some Almonds
Half of the apple that I cut up for Michael

Lunch:
More Deli Turkey on a Salad
Raspberries
Six Cherry Tomatoes

Snack:
The rest of the pint of Raspberries

Dinner:
Grilled Pork Loin
Large Serving of Broccoli
About a cup of Papaya

After Dinner Snack:
Almonds
Small piece of Beef Jerky

I fully anticipate that I will have a before bed snack as well. Probably a nectarine or banana. I'm probably over doing the "some fruit" part of the saying. Oh well.

The Paleo Challenge

2009-09-05T13:42:00.001-07:00

So, my gym is doing a four week challenge complete with points and teams and a prize and everything. And, of course, since it is such an ideal time to add more to my life, I eagerly signed up along with my husband. So, for the next four weeks, we are to eat according to the following mantra: "Meat and vegetables, nuts and seeds, some fruit, little starch, and no sugar." Along with the change in eating, we are expected to sleep at least eight hours a night (not a problem for me) and to do a gym workout-of-the-day (lovingly called the WOD) at least four times a week. We are also suppose to journal, which is where my all too handy blog is coming in. So, in the spirit of fair warning, the blog entries may be a little dry over the next four weeks. Unless, of course, you're really into the whole Paleo thing. Or, you find it humorous to watch me attempt these types of things.

The official challenge starts on Monday, so today has become a prep day of sorts for us. We went to the grocery store and filled up on fresh fruits and vegetables along with fish, lean meats and nuts. We are also sacrificially eating the last of the non-Paleo food in our house. The boys have been very helpful in this regard.

So, if you choose to actually read my blog over the next 4 weeks, expect to see the following:

What I ate that day - good or bad.
What exercise I did.
How long I slept.

I will try to add amusing anecdotes as time permits. Wish me luck.

Bloggity Blah Blah Blah

2009-08-12T17:08:00.000-07:00

For the record, I have not completely abandoned my blogging endeavors. In fact, I regularly write posts in my head. The problem lies in actually typing them out and posting them. My life seems so full right now and my thoughts so scattered that I am afraid that by publishing my rantings, I will only confirm suspicions that I have indeed lost my mind.

But, the other day, my baby sister wrote me an email informing me that I had not updated my blog in a while and that she counts on the anecdotes from my life for her amusement. I wasn't exactly sure how to take that, so I guess I'll just try not to think about it too hard and do as she says.

So, summer came and went and the kids are back in school. Of course, since nothing can be easy in our life, our three boys are going to three different schools all in completely different directions. Scouts is on Tuesday and Wednesday nights. I teach on Monday and Thursday nights. Piano is on Saturday afternoons plus practice every day with homework and exercise squeezed in there somewhere. Our schedule is packed down to the minute and I'm not entirely sure that it is healthy, but I'm not sure what to cut, so until one of us falls down in shear exhaustion and physically can't pull ourselves up, it will continue. I should probably be reading that book someone wrote about the "over-scheduled kid," but believe me, when and if I get some free time, I refuse to use it reading about something that will only serve in making me feel more guilty.

My job is going well. According to my student surveys, I am once again the most awesome math teacher ever. Of course, this amuses me on several levels. For instance, how can I manage to get in front of a group of 20 students for 3 hours and lecture on the finer points of the Pythagorean theorem, but when it comes to calling for a babysitter, I break out in a cold sweat and promise my husband all kinds of favors if he will just please do it for me? How is it that the world's biggest introvert chooses teaching as her career? Yet, I still go back quarter after quarter and for some reason, I don't think I'd really be happy anywhere else.

In conclusion, since I need to go meet a bus in a few minutes and I may never finish this if I don't just do it now, I will list some of the other great "accomplishments" of the Cook family.

* My almost three-year-old Michael is not the only kid in his preschool class that is not potty-trained and the preschool is okay with that meaning we don't have to put real underwear over a pull-up and fake it for three hours twice a week.

* J got his completely paid for braces off and is in a retainer for a few years until he gets completely new braces complete with new payments. Of course, in that same week, Spencer started with the whole hullabaloo, which means that the current payments will continue - just under a different child. In fact, one look at Michael's teeth and I'm pretty sure that we will be making some sort of payment to an orthodontic establishment for the next 14 years.

* In the first three weeks of school, J has managed to only pull one ticket and it wasn't even for a discipline issue. Apparently, he did the wrong math page as homework. I am aware that there is a honeymoon period going on right now with the new teacher and she may be overlooking a few of his tendencies towards behavior unbecoming of a student, but I have hope.

Now....off to the bus stop!

The Perfect Storm

2009-06-12T16:12:00.000-07:00

Whereas I teeter on the brink of insanity most of the time, I guard my routines closely. OCD me likes to keep things within a certain threshold of my established norm. Grocery shopping, laundry, teaching, and watching TV all have their places in my routine. If I decide to let something slip, the whole week seems wrong until I can pull back to where I was or establish a new routine.

Well, this last week, everything has been off. The kids are home from school for the first week of summer break, and I started back to teaching three new classes. Then I got sick. In fact, I was so sick that I went to bed on Wednesday night rather than staying up and watching "So You Think You Can Dance?" I was really that sick - which also meant that I haven't been to the gym since Monday. Then I taught last night in what has been one of the weirdest political weeks ever at work. Who knew that an adjunct Math instructor would ever have to deal with office-like politics? We are totally not equiped for that. On top of it all, it is that time of the month.

Really though, OCD as I am, I think I could have handled all of the disturbances to my life if I had not done one thing. I picked up a book. While my sister, Christina, was out visiting, we spent a night hanging out at bookstores. We were looking for a certain book in the half-priced bookstore, and happened to be in the aisle next to the True Crime section. I have some weird sort of fascination with how people think and so a lot of the true crime stories are interesting to me. As a side note, I considered going into Psychology when I was in college and spent several months volunteering on a crisis line, which was a little bit too much of a reality check and sent me spiraling in the other direction towards a life of integers and variables. But, anyway, back to the true crime aisle. My sister and I both rather randomly picked up a book and put them in our respective stacks. It wasn't until Monday of this week that I picked up this specific book again.

As an aside, my husband can pick up a book, read a few pages and then put it down. He can then pick it up the next day and read a few more pages and then put the book down again. In fact, he can happily be reading the same book for several weeks. He is somehow able to compartmentalize the book and symbolically put it on the shelf until he has a few minutes to come back to it. I am not so lucky. From the time that I open a book, I become obsessed with it. I dream the characters. I read during every waking moment. I neglect hygiene and basic physiological needs in the name of resolution. The book comes with me into the bathroom, into the tub, and even into the car. It is really pretty sad on several levels.

But, back to the book. I opened the book and I started to read. And I read. I was sick and I couldn't do much else anyway, so I read. I taught classes, but while I was preaching the cosine and sine, I was thinking about where deception would be revealed in the twisted plot. I slept, but I could never really steer my mind away. Finally, this morning, I finished the book. And then I assessed the damage.

It was almost noon and I lay on the couch unshowered. The laundry was piled. The dishes were stacked. My tower of ungraded papers in the family room was threatening to become drawing paper for Michael. I hadn't updated the budget in a week and my older sons were persistantly telling me that a grocery trip should soon be on the agenda. I was quite abruptly pulled from my true crime fantasy world back into my truly messy and not nearly as dramatic real world.

And, I should probably go back to the gym tomorrow.

So, I have a minute....

2009-06-05T17:03:00.000-07:00

I have completely neglected to update my blog lately. I have plenty of excuses, but rather than waste my time on those, I'll try to make this entry a little more engaging and less apologetic in case any of my three regular readers bothers to check it anymore.

So, on the boys front: They are out of school as of yesterday. J managed his way through third grade Quest (our district gifted/talented program) and even cried on the way home on his last day of school because it "has been a really fun year and I'm kind of sad." I am taking this as a good sign and have decided to allow him to attend fourth grade in the program even though I am lazy and hate driving his carpool. I am such a good mom.

Spencer received the good citizenship award for his class, which makes all of the sense in the world, since every second child must go in a completely opposite direction from their oldest sibling counterpart. It is the way of things.

Michael is talking. Yes, it's true. In fact, he got tested today and he is pretty much on level for everything - even expressive, which has always been his Achilles' hill. This testing was done by his speech therapist, but she did warn me that there is a good chance that he won't qualify for the free district preschool when they test him. Luckily, I already put a deposit down on the ritzy preschool last year and so he is set. Didn't I tell you what a good mom I am?

I start teaching again next week. Somehow I roped myself into doing three classes over the summer. I love to teach, but negotiating daycare for all three of my boys is pretty much a nightmare - even if it just for 3 hours a week. I have to have someone come to my house - preferably someone responsible that can drive themselves and handle any fires that my boys may decide to start in my absence without getting the pesky fire department involved. They also need to recognize the merits of peanut butter lunches and my cluttered home. It's a tall order, but I think I've got someone lined up for at least most of the summer.

That's about it for now. I have a million other things that I could update on, but many of them deserve their own post. In case I never get to them, the following posts have already been composed in my head:

My Sister's visit to Kentucky
The Gym (again)

Thank you for reading.

Note to Self: I am not Superwoman....

2009-04-21T04:36:00.000-07:00

....even as hard as I try.

So, I have been feeling pretty good about some things lately. I finally managed a single pull-up at the gym, only to be challenged to do two in a row. I realized that it isn't going to happen from a dead hang, and so I am in the process of trying to learn how to do a kipping pull-up. Michael has started talking fairly well. J and Spencer both came home with good report cards this quarter. Piano lessons seem to be going well and both boys are progressing.

It seems, though, that all of these accomplishments come with "buts", followed by some sort of failure. I've had to delay my hundred push-up goal. Trying to max on push-ups and do pull-ups at the same is apparently a little much on my arms. Especially if I want to be able to teach for three hours the next day with the writing on the white board that is required.

Michael, with all of his new words, is still behind. I am growing more and more grateful for his October birthday which will delay his kindergarten entry by a year from most of his peers. We have started the process of qualifying for the district speech therapy/preschool for when he turns three. I already have him signed up for another preschool and I couldn't possibly work with the district hours and still teach a morning class, so I'm not sure how this is going to work, which is making me feel guilty about the fact that I work at all. Of course, if I didn't work, it would take away the option for things such as piano lessons for my boys, family vacations, etc.

Speaking of piano lessons....yes, they are going well. In fact, I dare say that my boys have made an incredible amount of progress since they started in February of last year. But...my teacher, the one that works so well with my boys, she is moving. They are taking a few weeks of break right now and they start with a new teacher on May 2nd. I researched the best that I could and I hope that I have found someone that will work well with them, but I don't know and I am afraid that they will not work as hard or that they will grow frustrated. I am afraid that the leaps and bounds of progress they have made will stop. I wonder if my boys have any idea how hard all of these little decisions I must make for them are.

And then there was parent/teacher conference with J's teacher yesterday. Once again, I was reassured that J is a math genius, the gifted/talented program is right for him, etc. But, his handwriting is still terrible. In fact, she dropped the bomb that his writing is probably not even on a normal third grade level, let alone a "Quest" (our GT program) third grade level. She also said that he would seriously struggle in fourth grade if this did not change. So, the way I see it, I have four months to pull my struggling son up to an acceptable writing level. The problem, you see, is that, though I am an excellent teacher, I teach Math. I know nothing about how to help my son here. I've ordered the "Handwriting without Tears" books. But, I am wondering if I should be employing the help of an occupational therapist or if I am totally over-reacting and this is just a normal result of the asynchronous learning that usually accompanies gifted children. After all, no kid can be good at everything, except of course, that one kid in his class who does manage this feat and has only pulled one ticket the whole year. But, we don't talk about him.

Then there is all of the guilt. I am good at my job and I like to teach. My employer is struggling to find enough Math teachers to fill summer positions right now and has asked me to take more than the two classes I have committed to. I do feel some obligation. At the same time, I already feel terrible amounts of guilt of the six hours a week that I am away from my family. And, of course, if I did take another class, it would make our monthly budget a little easier to balance, but, at what cost? It is a balancing act that seems to have no answer.

I also know that the time I have spent working out the last several months has been good for me. It is time with my husband and it is good for my body. But, it is also time that the boys are not working on piano or handwriting. It makes our afternoons a little more hectic. There just doesn't seem to be enough hours in the day to get it all done. And, let's not even get into my role as a member of the primary presidency.....which I could, and probably should, do so much more for.

So, it is true. The conclusion I have come to is that I can't do it all. But, since I am really not willing to give up any of it right now, I am going to have to be content to be mediocre at much of it, which is hard for someone who was raised with the idea that if something is worth doing, it is worth doing better than any person since the beginning of time has ever done it.

Resolutions Redux

2009-03-24T18:15:00.001-07:00

So, sometime way back in December, I mentioned the fact that I would like to drop a few pounds. Since I am officially in my mid-thirties, this is not as easy of a feat as it once was and I realized that it may take some effort besides cutting down my daily Dr. Pepper consumption. In fact, I actually joined a gym.

This isn't the first gym I have gone to. I've spent many hours on treadmills during marathon training and such. This is just the first gym where they have cared whether or not I am doing something besides jogging slowly on the treadmill while watching the "Price is Right" without sound because the headphones make my ears sweat.

So, this is a CrossFit gym. When I walk in, I am given a patented "workout of the day," which, at first, involved all kinds of exercises that I had no idea how to do - and even when I did, my ability was sorely lacking. The first time I was instructed in the fine art of a pull-up, the coach brought out a huge blue rubber band that offered 100+ pounds of resistance and then he still had his hand on my back helping me to get my chin over the bar. I am also embarrassed to say that even a squat was a challenge for me at first. I kept feeling like I was going to tumble backwards and would over-compensate by lifting my heels, which is, apparently, bad.

Well, I've been going to this gym for almost three months now and I dare say that I am making improvements. I have dropped about ten pounds - which still puts me above where my weight was a year ago, but as I said before, mid-thirties and losing weight don't really mix, so any loss is a victory. I'm actually just grateful that I'm not still gaining weight - the trend had me a little worried.

I've also come up with some new fitness goals and would like to post them here for the world (or at least my three regular blog readers) to see. The first is to accomplish the same hundred push-up challenge that my husband finished last fall. There is a nifty little website that has charts to follow and such and even a place where I can log my progress. I just did my first exhaustion test on Sunday and was able to eke out 18 push-ups from the toe without rest - fairly good form and everything. Today, I did the first workout and completed it successfully as well. It was five sets with 60 seconds of rest between each one. The sets were: 10, 12, 7, 7, and max. My max today was 12.

My second goal is to do a dead hang pull-up with no rubber bands or other helps. I may modify this goal once I accomplish the first one and try for two or more in a row, but for now I would just like to be able to do one. I have been working on negatives the last month and so I've got the easy half of the pull-up down. Now I've just got to find a way to get my chin over the bar in the first place.

I'm also hoping that by publicly posting these goals that I will be encouraged to update my blog a little more regularly. Of course, if I don't, you all are free to assume that I failed miserably.

A Conversation with Michael

2009-03-06T12:41:00.000-08:00

I haven't blogged in a while. I've just been so busy and, though I've started a few posts, I have yet to finish one and by the time I get back to it, it just seems irrelevant.

But, something fun happened today...and it is short and sweet and I think I can finish a post about it in one sitting, so here goes:

As some of you know, my sweet Michael is what has been termed as "speech delayed". At 18 months, he was put in the .01 percentile in the speech category and being the neurotic mom, this was quite disconcerting and I was sure that I was dealing with something terrible. We have had a speech therapist coming to our house over the last year and he has improved. In fact, I've heard nothing from the specialists, but "normal little boy" lately.

So, Michael is 28 months old now. The following wouldn't be that significant to another parent, but realize where I'm coming from. I had a conversation with Michael in the car this morning. It went like this:

Michael: "Mom, I acow."

Me: "What Michael?"

Michael: "I acow. Moo. Moo. Michael a cow."

Me: "Oh, you are a cow."

Michael: "I a cow. Moo. Moo. I funny." *giggle*

The rest of the car trip was a series of moos and giggles. This seemed so "normal little boy" for a two year old boy. I am thrilled.

He has come a long way.

I'm right. That is all.

2009-01-26T15:11:00.000-08:00

I am not one of those people who claim to be an expert on everything. Really, I'm not. In fact, I'll readily admit to my incompetence in most aspects of this world. But, there are a few areas where I truly am able. In fact, I would dare say able beyond average. So, when I am challenged in one of these areas, my usually calm, non-confrontational self sometimes feels a little riled. Because I am right and sometimes I get to be right.

This all happened on Friday night. As I have mentioned before, I work at a very small college. About once a quarter, we meet together as a faculty in one of the classrooms and go through some training with a lot of open discussion in an effort to glean ideas from each other and be the best faculty we can for our students. The focus of our training this time around was the "invitational classroom". This opened up a debate about justice vs. mercy in the classroom. One of the more vocal teachers announced that he felt there should be a school-wide policy regarding late work. In his own classroom, he has a zero tolerance policy and will not accept anything late no matter who dies or has a baby. His argument being that by accepting late work that we are enabling our students to be irresponsible and are not preparing them for "the real world."

I don't buy it. I've been teaching for a long time. And I dare say that I am a good teacher for at least a majority of the students who enter my classroom. I do accept late work. In fact if a student seems to be falling behind, rather than berate them, I usually ask to meet with them to catch them up. Because, the truth of the matter is, if I don't, they aren't going to be more responsible or be more ready for "the real world", they are just going to have one more reason to give up on school and one more life frustration and I don't want to be the source of anyone's life frustration.

And, now, just a word or two on the whole "real world" comment. The real world is a whole lot more forgiving than I think we give it credit for. I make mistakes every day and I depend on the mercy of those in my life. If my husband had a zero tolerance policy towards all of the things that I do that drive him crazy (and not in a good way), our marriage never would have lasted this long. I've also made plenty of mistakes through the years at my various jobs and not once have I been fired. This world is set up for humans - the unperfect.

So, I don't believe in it. I don't think it is good. I don't think it is the pathway to a world of responsible adults. No. Not at all.

January

2009-01-13T08:26:00.000-08:00

So, it's January. January has always been a rough month for me. Since I've been alive for a number of years now, I've had quite a while to evaluate my genuine dislike of this particular month. I haven't been able to pin it down to one thing in particular, but I think I've got a pretty good handle on some of the general issues - though the solution is far beyond me.

In my earlier twenties, I liked to blame my January blues on Seasonal Affective Disorder, which has the cute acronym of SAD. Unfortunately, anyone suffering from this malady is really not in a position to appreciate the aforementioned cute acronym. I haven't done extensive research, but I believe the theory is that lack of sunlight from the short days in January cause some people to be down. The last couple of years, I've discounted this theory on the basis that I usually feel just fine in December, though I do admittedly experience holiday stress, and December technically has less sunlight than January.

Another issue that I feel comes in to play is the post-holiday fallout. After a few weeks of overspending and oversugaring (once again, not a word), I have to deal with the consequences. So, January tends to be a month of deprivation. Making the transition from Dr. Pepper to water and from watching three straight seasons of "Arrested Development" to spending my evenings putting together weeks of Statistics curriculum just seems like an extreme swing. January just isn't a very fun month.

Then, there is this third issue, which I will only admit just this once. I like to do taxes. I like to read all of the new laws and figure out how I can minimize our tax bill and I even like filling out all of the forms. So, since no company we have ever worked for has sent out their W-2 forms until the last possible moment, I spend the month of January working off of paystub totals and making estimates until the real numbers show up. The anticipation drives me insane. I've never really been a patient person.

So, those, I believe, are some of the issues. I've been working on solutions to minimize my January down time and I have found a few things that are working, but mainly, I still find January a month to endure, and it's such a long month.

Goodbye 2008. Let me show you the door.

2008-12-28T13:38:00.000-08:00

Since I am celebrated out, I have decided to skip over the last week of parties and late nights and move right on to the diligence that comes with January. After two weeks of subsisting on Dr. Pepper, card games and homemade rolls (oh so yummy), I am actually starting to crave both order and vegetables again. I am sure that it will fade with time, but while I still have plenty of simple carbs running through my system, I figured it would be a good time to make a few resolutions.

So, the theme of my 2009 is "...may it go better than 2008". I'm setting my expectations low, so I will actually have a chance of meeting them. I ended 2008 a full 15 pounds heavier than 2007. The first ten pounds I would like to blame on my sister and all of the self-coddling I indulged in after her death. The last 5 pounds, I will blame on my other sister who came out over Christmas and insisted that I partake of all sorts of sugary goodness with her (as much as I resisted). See, none of it is my fault at all. But, even though it has nothing to do with me, I am still going to have to be the one to work to get it off. Life is so unfair that way. So, I am hoping to end 2009 in at least the same place I was at the end of 2007.

Now, of course, if I am following popular American culture, I would list "save more money" directly after "lose weight" on my resolution list. But, I'm not going to. See, I'm a little frustrated with the whole saving money thing right now. We lost a full six figures in our retirement funds this year due to the supposed "global recession" issue and I am staging my rebellion by funding a trip to DisneyWorld rather than contributing to my Roth this year. It is probably about time I did something irresponsible and I think this is just the thing. Now, as not to go overboard, we will still get our 401(k) money put away, but that's it. I will resist every temptation to put any other money into retirement funds.

My third resolution is to take things one day at the time. I've felt overwhelmed a lot as of late and I think that this will be the most important of the resolutions, should I choose to carry any of them out. With three kids, a husband, a slew of students and pile of laundry the size of Seattle, I sometimes wonder if I am going to make it to the next week, but I can usually see my way clear to survive the next 24 hours. I can always do another day...and it is that very perspective that keeps me going.

So, that's my plan for 2009. I totally think it is doable.

Almost Comical

2008-12-15T19:08:00.001-08:00

Do you ever have the feeling that your day is following a script? That some sadistic situation comedy writer has carefully orchestrated every movement down to the creepy Salvation Army bell ringer loudly singing off-key carols in the Kroger lobby? Yeah. That's how today has been.

I had big plans for today. You see, tomorrow my mom and sister come to visit. I had shopping to do and a house to clean and all kinds of big plans to ensure Christmas-time bliss. Of course, I should know by now that the key to disappointment is high expectations.

I woke up this morning with two crusted over eyes. I was the last in the family to get the leftovers from our Thanksgiving trip and I almost thought I had escaped. But no, a full two weeks after our return I came down with a double case of pink-eye. So, this morning, I called and made myself a doctor's appointment and then dragged Michael, fully garbed in Thomas the Train pajamas, through a waiting room, a doctor's office and a Wal-mart pharmacy experience which I couldn't possibly give justice to at this late hour.

Then I went home and looked at my house and I wanted to cry. It didn't help that a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios had been left unattended by a certain 1st grader and dumped over by either the toddler or the cat. I carefully scooped up what I could of the Cheerios and just decided to avoid the sticky spot on the floor until later that day. Maybe the horse pill super-antibiotics that my doctor had put me on would kick in and I would suddenly feel great in a few hours.

After car pool, piano lessons, and a quick nap, I made an executive decision that my visitors would value a full fridge over a not sticky floor and made my way to Kroger. You guessed it. This is where I spotted the creepy singing bell-ringer. I had never seen a Kroger so busy in my whole life. Never. What was the deal? It didn't help that this particular Kroger is in the middle of remodeling to better serve us and in order to go from the meat department to the cracker aisle required a hard hat. But, back to the point, yes, the Kroger was super busy. Then I noticed that just about every cart had a large bag of de-icing salt under it. Then I heard a lady talking to another in line about whether or not the ice storm that is coming tonight is going to shut down the city like it did in 2002. Then I realized that everyone was stocking up so they wouldn't have to leave the house tomorrow. Then I remembered that I am picking up my mom and sister in Louisville at the airport tomorrow with two swollen crusted over eyes in a minivan that has a questionable braking system. And, I had plenty of time to think this through, because the line I had carefully selected was held up for a good 20 minutes for some unknown reason after my groceries were already on the belt.

So, with all of this heavily weighing on my mind, I made my way home and with the help of my sweet husband, I got groceries put away and even managed to get the sticky stuff off of my kitchen floor. My eyes were crusting over again, but I had a system comprising of warm washcloths and gentle strokes and I was at least managing to save most of my eyelashes.

Just as I was ready to go to bed, the final straw was placed. I was looking up my son's school website to try and get the time to record his school program from the TV when I noticed that he was, as a 3rd grader, required to wear an orange or yellow dress code shirt to school tomorrow for this special day. Though I was sure we had purchased every color possible of the schools required dress code, apparently we had neglected both orange and yellow. Had he been in any other grade, he would have had the shirt. So, at 10:00 p.m., I was back at Wal-mart. The only orange dress code shirt left was a size 10-12 husky. It'll drowned him, but it is the right color and quite a bargain at only $6. Of course, it took me 20 minutes to check out since the register locked down when the woman in front of me attempted to use a gift card (apparently the registers are not set up to actually redeem them). While we waited for a manager to come, the cashier looked at me and said, "Wow, what's wrong with your eyes? Are you sick?"

I just nodded. Maybe tomorrow will be better.

Let's talk toilet seats....

2008-12-07T14:14:00.000-08:00

Lately, I have had what some might call an unhealthy obsession with toilet seats. Since I grew up in a household of mostly girls, it didn't occur to me until recently that a mixture of boys with germaphobic me would result in an almost constant anxiety about the state of our toilets.

Now, my husband has had many years of practice and I'll dare say that he is a fairly good aim. But, the younger boys....not so good. When we were first potty training J in Ohio, I would just keep a package of Scrubbing Bubble Toilet Wipes close by and make sure to wipe around the toilet and on the seat every time he used the facilities. Now that we have three boys, I just can't keep up. So, I just do what every mother with three sons has done since the beginning of time, I clean as often as possible and learn to look before I step when I am approaching a toilet.

Lately, though, we've had an additional problem. The toilet seats have become uncleanable (I know - not a word). It's true. No matter how many industrial strength cleaners I have poured onto them, they are still stained and the kids bathroom has taken on a permanent odor that I would rather not describe in detail.

So, sometime last month, I declared that our toilet seats would be replaced and I started researching. I had a quest. I was in search of the perfect toilet seat. I listed the problems with our current toilet seats and worked from there. First off, the current toilet seat had a gap between the top seat and the bottom seat which meant that when the occasional lazy boy decided to use the toilet without lifting both seats, any excess would drain to the back of the toilet and down into the hinges where the seat meets the toilet, which were impossible to clean without the aid of a phillips' head screw driver and an oxygen mask. Secondly, the toilets slammed. In fact, Michael has entertained himself for a full ten minutes at the time with this activity. Lift up the seat, slam the seat, watch everyone jump, repeat. So fun. Then there was the yellowish-brown stain issue. I was relieved to see that none of the new toilet seats I was looking at came with this feature.

Yesterday was the big day. I finally bought new toilet seats. I could hardly wait as we drove home from Lowe's. These were not just any toilet seats. They had all of the options. They came with the easy hinge, which allows the seat to come off from the toilet with just a turn which makes for easy and thorough cleaning. In addition, they are unslammable (which I believe actually is a word). They also have a lifetime warranty on the finish - guaranteeing that yellow seat stains would be a thing of the past in the Cook household. And last, but not least, the top seat meets the bottom seat, so when our boys forget to lift both, their misdirected flow will safely slide into the toilet bowl rather than the hinges behind it trapping odor forever.

After the unpleasant experience of changing out the seats which required a full aerosol bottle of scrubbing bubbles and a sponge which should probably be burned, I eyed the new seats in all of their glory. They were so beautiful. So white. So clean. And then came the real test. I inhaled...in the boy's bathroom...and I smelled...nothing. That's right. Only the residual fumes from the arsenal of cleaners that I had used remained in the air. In fact, if I hadn't my eyes open, I wouldn't have even known I was standing in a bathroom. It was heavenly.

An Open Letter

2008-11-30T18:32:00.000-08:00

Dear Ohio Department of Transportation,

I am not a resident of your great state, but having spent almost 8 hours on your roads today, I feel that I am qualified to make some suggestions that might improve the Ohio driving experience. I hope you find these helpful.

The road that first brought me into Ohio today was I-90. I was driving along, enjoying my cruise control and the Sponge Bob Square Pants theme music blaring from the DVD player when suddenly the car jolted. It was then that I saw the "Welcome to Ohio" sign. The next two hours were like a very long ride on a very old wooden roller coaster. There was a seam in the road every 20 feet and I was able to reach a top speed of 55 mph.

Now, I understand that economic times are hard and Ohio can't just go around fixing all of its roads because some crazy woman from Kentucky had an unpleasant experience. But, I do have an alternative. At theme parks, such as your very own Cedar Point, there are signs posted warning certain people that they may not enjoy certain rides or that they may even be hazardous to their health. Maybe, at the state line, you could just put out a big sign that says, "This road is not for people who have back problems or a heart condition."

Enough said about that. My second issue is with a certain construction project that you have going on on I-271. I do applaud your attempt to fix some of your roads. This shows real initiative. But, the idea of merging everyone into two lanes just as I-76 merges with the main interstate was probably not a very good one. You should maybe look into firing the guy who came up with that one. Either that, or make him drive through it during rush hour as a penance.

I have one other suggestion that I hope you will consider. I believe that Ohio is not appealing to their driver's sense of psychology with some of the signs they have posted. Along I-90 in New York, there are signs requesting that drivers only use the left lane for passing. I found that most drivers actually did this. Once I arrived in Ohio, the sign changed. Instead of requesting that the left lane be used for passing, it asks that slower traffic please use the right lane. Now, nobody wants to believe that they are actually "slower traffic". Who wants to be slow? It has been associated through the years with a lack of intelligence or stamina - nothing that anyone wants to admit to. So, as soon as I passed the state line, everyone moved into the left lane, except for the semi trucks that have all come to terms with their label of "slower traffic" on account of their size. This meant that both lanes were traveling a good 5 miles beneath the speed limit and there was no way to legally pass anyone - though the shoulder looked awfully tempting at times. I believe a simple sign change would remedy this problem.

Thank you for your consideration in these matters. I appreciate your time.

Sincerely,

Kara

Orange Rolls and Eye Drops

2008-11-28T17:55:00.000-08:00

For Thanksgiving this year, we are at my sister's house. She lives in upstate New York. For the record, it is colder here than it is in Kentucky. They also get snow and it sticks to the ground and apparently I haven't even really seen anything because it gets much worse in January which is why I have never made the trek to Manlius in January. See, even us Math people have a little common sense.

My sister and I enjoy each other and we usually even vacation together in the summers. But, somehow we manage to forget between visits that together we have six kids and that all of our kids are loud and that at least one of them will get sick anytime we get together. Usually the person who is several states away from home is the one who gets the sick kid (or sometimes husband). This trip has been especially fortunate because I have two sick kids. And, of course, neither of them showed a single symptom until we entered the great state of New York.

It started when we came in on Wednesday night and I noticed that Michael's eye was gucking up. By Friday morning, Spencer had the conjunctivitis look as well and since Spencer really only has one eye that works well and it happened to be the pink one, we decided that a trip to the local Urgent care center was appropriate. Three hours later, we came out with the diagnosis of two eye infections (one for each), a double ear infection for Michael and a sinus infection for Spencer. We also had 5 prescriptions to fill. At least I got to spend some quality time with my sister in the waiting room making fun of the parenting magazines.

But, the trip is only half over and with antibiotics and eye drops and ear drops we should have some functional kids by tomorrow. The plan is to take them all to Chuck-E-Cheese for lunch and spread their germs so that other parents will feel our misery and there will be balance in the world. And, also there are orange rolls coming out of the oven in a few minutes, and of course, orange rolls make everything better. So, overall, I believe the trip will be a success.

The other reason this is all good is a pretty selfish one. You see, our next vacation with them will be in Disneyworld in 2009 and it will be my sister's turn to have sick kids.

The Girl Date

2008-11-24T06:24:00.000-08:00

In my early college days, before my Brig-in-shining-armor came along and rescued me, I used to live in an apartment with 5 other girls. Though I am still close friends with some of those girls, I have to admit that the situation did not suit me well and I'm afraid that many of my ex-roommates would agree. Being a left-brained, logical, rational person didn't bode well in the emotionally-laden, PMS-prone environment. So, when the weekend came around and I had a date - which didn't happen every weekend, but often enough - I celebrated my time away from my female world with great pleasure. Well, except for that one night where my date wore too much cologne and left me with a migraine by the end of the night. But, that's another story.

So, time has passed and my world has changed. Now I live in an all-male environment. My basement is full of camping gear and my garage is full of power tools. Even most of my students are male. So, it was with great anticipation that I embarked on my "girl date" this weekend. My friend, Hiroe (who also lives in an all-male home), and I left our kids with our husbands and hit the town on Saturday night. Our wild night included prime rib and Barnes and Noble, which is about as wild as I get these days.

I don't get a girl's night out very often. This is mainly my own fault. You see, we have moved close to every three years (or less) since we have been married. I am an introvert (understatement) and tend to lack some basic social skills, so it takes at least this long for me to find a female friend. Then comes the hard part - keeping the friend. Between my innocent comments that sometimes come across as offensive and my woman cave, which can be interpreted as the silent treatment, I tend to lose friends quickly and with great skill.

Lucky for me, there are a few unique people in this world who can handle the idiosyncrasies that are me. This is a good thing, because I am somewhat stubborn and set in my ways and I'm just not willing to change who I am at this point in life to accommodate friends. But, and it is hard for me to admit this, I still need them. And I still need girl dates. And since I have been unable to convince any of my sisters to move to Kentucky, I am grateful to Hiroe and all of her predecessors for chipping through my granite shell and finding out that underneath it all, I'm just as human and needy as everyone else.

Imparting Wisdom

2008-11-19T16:56:00.001-08:00

It has been a good long time since I have shared the joys of teaching with my faithful blog readers. Since I gave a final last night and another this morning and I won't see the eyes of another college Algebra student for at least two weeks, I feel that I am in an appropriate state of mind to conquer this very task.

Last night, after completing his final, one of my students was joyfully exclaiming that he had miraculously passed the class. Since we were practically alone in the classroom, I commented that had he attended class a little more often, it may not have been such a miraculous feat. He then proceeded to tell me about his life that quarter. Now, being a Math teacher, I would not think that, by nature, I would inspire people to share their deepest life issues with me. But apparently, there is something in my demeanor that screams "tell me all of your problems." Yeah, I've got to work on that.

So, his girlfriend had broken up with him. His car broke down for a few days mid-quarter. At the first of the quarter, he didn't have enough gas in his car to make it to class one night. I've heard it all before. Life can be very traumatic when you are 23. If I seem cynical, it may be because I am. I looked at him straight in the eyes and told him that not one of us had a life free of disruptions and problems and that sometimes you just needed to keep going and figure out how to still keep the important parts of your life running while you sort out the crap on the sidelines.

He sort of shrugged his shoulders and went off to celebrate his D in the class, but I really wished he would have taken a second and listened to what I was trying to tell him since I believe it was much more important than the unit on matrices or maybe even the trigonometry unit. Okay, not the trigonometry unit, but still, many of my younger students believe that in order to have a successful life, you must have a life free of "bad things happening to you". And, when bad things do happen, you are then given a free ticket to fail in whatever way is most convenient at the time, you know, as a recompense.

I don't know how to help these students. In fact, I don't know a lot of things. Maybe, I should just stick to Math.

I lied.

2008-11-16T10:40:00.001-08:00

I am not a liar by nature, but a few posts back, when I said I had overcome the "ewwww" factor to parenting, I now believe I may have lied.

Lately, sweet Michael has been going through the water fascination stage that all kids go through at one point or another. Luckily, the manufacturers of refrigerators know this is an issue and have installed a lock button on their water dispensers. But, if someone forgets to press the lock button for the full three seconds after filling their cup with freshly filtered fridge water, we pay for it shortly. Michael fills up whatever cup or container he can get a hold of and dumps it on the carpet, or the wood floors, or sometimes, if we are lucky, just in a plant or on the cat. Then he runs to fill up his cup again. Usually we catch him in action pretty quickly and the consequence are just an unexpected load of laundry or a very angry cat.

This morning, I started my day with a cool, clean glass of filtered water and then diligently locked the dispenser. A while later, I saw Michael running around with a cup, but I felt confident. I knew he had no access to water - not on the main floor anyway. He can't reach the sinks without a boost and doing that gives the rumbling warning of a chair being pushed across the floor along with two year old grunting. No, all was safe. I could lay back and relax.

Then, I saw him walk by casually. He was drinking water. From his previously empty cup. And I saw what room he had come from - which I'm sure you've guessed by now. And the lid was up. And...ewwwwwwww, yuck, double yuck. My gag reflex went into overdrive. I grabbed the cup and threw it in the sink. Then I washed his hands and face. No, I have not overcome the "ewwww" factor. Not at all.

A Rainy Day in Kentucky

2008-11-07T08:11:00.000-08:00

So, this is not going to be a happy, fun post, because it is raining outside and I feel that every once in a while I am entitled to feel a little rainy inside too. I'll be better once Brig gets back from travel today and I can take the nap I've been craving all week, but for now, I am going to be a little down and you, my lucky blog readers, are going to get to hear all about it.

This morning was Spencer's eye appointment in Nicholasville, a good half hour drive from our home. Spencer has Strabismus and is seen by a specialist about once every six months. With the help of bifocals and some real diligence on our part, he has managed to avoid the more unpleasant therapies related with his eye disorder. We haven't had to patch. There hasn't been any mention of surgery. We just get a new prescription every six months, sign our weekly salary over to the glasses store and come out with a shiny new pair of bifocals that will be completely destroyed in 3 days flat. Hooray for the insurance plans on kid's glasses.

Anyway, the eye doctor informed us today that we were going to need to take further steps. He has started by covering his "good eye" lense with contact paper in hopes of strengthening his bad eye. We are also back to appointments every other month. I don't know where this is going to lead eventually, but I am an ace-number-one worrier and my imagination has already taken over. Spencer is being a good sport about the whole thing and did inform me that he felt his right eye "already getting stronger" on the car ride home.

It was at the end of this appointment that I felt like the universe was playing a little unfair. I was already feeling pretty down when I went out to make Spencer's next appointment and the receptionist looked up and said, "Is January 7th a good day for you? That'll be a Wednesday." I just about lost it right there and then. January 7th would have been my sister's 36th birthday. She was always funny about her birthday because she felt that it was never celebrated enough since everyone was always celebrated-out by the time January 7th came along. I suddenlty felt a terrible wave of guilt, because I've just been going on with life and I've been shutting out reality, because if I think about things too much, it hurts too bad and I'm so tired.

So, this morning, after dropping off Spencer at school and putting Michael down for a nap, I allowed myself an indulgence and I let my tears flow. I cried because she is gone and I couldn't stop it and I don't think I ever really understood her and I'm so sorry. I cried because I can't help anything now. I had grandiose ideas at one point of how helpful I was going to be to her grieving husband and young son and, really, I'm just not. I'm barely holding myself together. I cried because it all still seems so wrong. I'm not so sure that I will ever completely come to terms with the fact that my sister took her own life. And in a way, that makes me feel broken...and I don't want to be broken. But, I don't know if just pretending it isn't what it is is even worse.

So, that's where I'm at. I'll cry a little longer and then I'll go pick up my kids from school and I'll work on lesson plans and get everything ready for the primary brunch tomorrow and I'll just keep on going and living because that's the only thing I know how to do. And, I hope, that with time, these rainy days won't be so hard.

...and candy bars for breakfast.

2008-11-03T04:18:00.000-08:00

I have three kids, three boys that is. My oldest will soon be nine years old, which including pregnancy gives me almost a full decade of parenting experience. I have cleaned vomit out of carpet at 3:00 a.m. I've changed diapers that would have left some veteran parents weak in the knees. I have dealt with and conquered almost every dreaded parenting situation imaginable.

But, and you knew a but was coming, I am starting to get tired. While I have overcome the "ewwww" factor to parenting, I have yet to learn to deal with the exhaustion which only seems to multiply with each child. I think I now understand why oldest children are classified as the most ambitious of the bunch. By the time their parents have given into a more relaxed parenting, they have safely made it through their formative years.

So, poor little Michael is my third. I am trying to raise him with as much diligence as the rest. I'll confide though, that it just isn't going to happen. I love my sweet Michael as much as any mother could love a baby. This has nothing to do with favoritism. I just don't have it in me to fight his two year old ways like I did with my other boys. At this point in family life, keeping the peace seems so much more important than making sure he wears what I want him to wear or eats every last green bean on his plate. This means that sometimes he still has his pajamas on during afternoon carpool and more often than not, the vegetables are thrown on the floor (and stay there until the cat finds them).

So, this morning, I get the older boys off to school, change Michael's diaper and then begin the search for breakfast food. I knew I should have made it to the grocery store on Saturday, but between Brigham's obligations and my own, the day got away from me and it didn't happen. We did have some yummy bread that Brigham made yesterday, but yummy as it is, Michael isn't a fan. Not only was the breakfast cereal long since depleted, but even the canister of oatmeal was gone. Then Michael brought me a miniature candy bar scavenged from some unsuspecting Halloween stash and I opened it and I gave it to him. My parenting has reached a new low.

So, yeah, we bought a car....

2008-10-31T05:15:00.000-07:00

Wednesday was an exciting and very long day in the Cook household. Brigham and I bought a car for him. Before telling you all about Brigham's new wheels, I feel, once again, that a little background information is necessary.

Shortly after we were married 12+ years ago, we found ourselves in the situation where we needed a car. The first car we bought together was a used Saturn SL1 with no options, though it did have a tape deck. Brigham still had several years left of college and I was finishing up a graduate degree. It fit the budget and, though not fancy by any means, it was dependable, got good gas mileage and was cheap to insure. It was our main (and really only unless you count motorcycles) form of transportation through our college years and our entire stay in the great state of Colorado.

Shortly after Spencer (our second son) was born, we moved to Ohio and Brigham was contracting on a military base where I could not easily drop him off for work on days that I needed the car. We decided that it was time to buy a second car. Since buying our first home in Colorado, we had diligently been saving to buy a car. The problem was that the car we had been saving for was no longer practical for our family. After a few late night "discussions" and a lot of convincing on my part, our family purchased a minivan, which, for the record, was not my husband's idea of glamorous. This purchase came with great promises for the day when the Saturn died.

Well for some time now, the Saturn has been showing signs of its impending demise. The "check engine" light has been on for over a year and refuses to go off no matter how many times we check the engine. The car amazingly does not leak oil, but still needs to be regularly filled for some reason. The tires are bald. There is a definite rust problem (who knew that Saturns could rust?). The emergency brake has to be manually held up to work, which makes parking an adventure. So, you get the picture, right?

Finally, a few weeks ago, Brigham informed me that we either needed to put a large amount of money into the Saturn or we would need to replace it before the ice in Kentucky season started up. The main requirement of this new car was that it have a convertible top (a promise that secured the minivan purchase). It also must be dependable and safe. I had a few requirements as well, even though I didn't plan to be driving the car very often. I needed it to have a back seat for days when Brigham had to help with the transporting of boys and I didn't want to paying some ludicrous amount to insure impracticality. So, with this in mind, we went car shopping.

I'll spare you the details of the various cars we looked at over the last week. Let's just say that finding sporty and fun for a 6'4" man isn't as easy as it might first appear. Most of the cars fit him just fine with the top down - it was the top up thing that caused the problem. I also started to have my concerns about the convertible concept. Some of my students shared with me the ease of breaking into a convertible and divulged that the cost of insuring and driving one to be higher than what I wanted to deal with. I actually spent a good deal of the day last Saturday convincing my husband that this just wasn't the way to go.

Then, we found the Volvo C70. It is a hard top convertible, which means that when the top is up, it takes more than a pocket knife to break into the car. It had the required back seat and every safety feature in the book, which means that the insurance costs on it are unbelievably low. I about fell over when we were quoted $562 for the annual (yes, that's the whole year) premium. That's less than $50 a month on a new car with full coverage. So, after some consideration we bought the car.

I've since been informed that they are not cheap cars to fix. We've never owned a European car and we might even have to outsource the oil changes. But, my sweet husband seems quite happy with the vehicle and it has been a long time in coming. Now, I will attempt to add a picture to my blog and I expect you all to be very impressed with my new skill.

Parent Teacher Conference

2008-10-27T15:00:00.000-07:00

So, today I went to my first parent teacher conference of the year for J. He moved to a gifted/talented school this year and so I had to travel into town to meet with his teacher at his new elementary school. I think it might be good to give a little background information for those of you who may not know J that well. He is, well, a spirited child. In the past, at other schools he has attended this has been interpreted as a behavior problem which, on occasion, has resulted in jaunts to the principal's office.

Because of some past experiences that I have had at J's conferences, I tend to have some anxiety issues when I know one is approaching. First, come the bad dreams and then the flashbacks. When J was in Kindergarten, I was walking up the stairs to attend one of his conferences and ran into another Kindergarten teacher from the school. I asked her for directions to my son's classroom and she asked who his teacher was. The conversation continued as follows:

Me: "Yes, my son has Ms. So and So (not her real name)"

Other Teacher: "Oh, she has a rough class this year. That poor woman. She has one little boy that is just out of control and she's had to move him to his own desk at the front away from all of the other students. Your child has probably told you about him."

Me: "No. He hasn't said anything. That bad, huh?"

Other Teacher: "Yes. Good thing she is a patient woman. She's been doing this for decades and she said this is the worst she's ever had it."

We parted ways as she pointed me towards his class and then I greeted Ms. So and So and she walked me towards my son's desk, the separate one at the front of the room, away from all of the other kids who sat at tables. It didn't get much better from there.

Then there was the incident in the first grade. The one where he hacked into the school computer and saved blank sheets over all of the assignments of a girl in his class. It was hard to act disappointed while meeting with him and the principal when I was secretly impressed that he had managed to get around the user ID and password issues and into her files at the tender age of six.

So, anyway, back to the story at hand. You get the idea.

As I was making the drive into town, my stomach was knotting up. I was so deep in thought and anticipation that I almost ran a red light. I did manage to make it to the school safely and found the classroom on my own this time. His teacher greeted me and started with, "Your son is definitely in the right place. He is very bright even for our gifted and talented class." She proceeded to show me test scores and work examples verifying my parental claim that my child is a genius. She is having a gifted specialist come in from the district to work with him and two other boys who are both far beyond what the gifted curriculum has for math.

Then, of course, came the rest of the conversation. But, I liked the way she handled it. She straight out said, "His writing is terrible." I'd heard this before. We know it is an issue with him. But, instead of looking at me accusingly, she said, "since this is an obvious weakness for him, let's find ways around it as we help him develop this skill." She is going to let him type his papers. She is going to give him less writing to do and ask him to take his time and slow it down. She is sending home some sample open response questions for me to help him with. But, all through the conversation, she reassured me that my child was special and different than any other child she had taught before and not in a bad way. He pulls a ticket every now and then, but she said he has been very respectful and she doesn't consider his behavior an issue at all. I actually came out of the conference with my head held high.

....and, he's getting straight As. That's my boy.

Apparently, I've been tagged....

2008-10-24T06:53:00.000-07:00

I was never good at this game in elementary school either. Though I have blocked out a great deal of my formative years, I do remember playing tag during those early days. There were two different forms, both of which scarred me for life in one way or another. There was the more formal version where teams were chosen and I tried to inconspicuously wait for someone or anyone to let me be on their team. Then, after the initial humiliation of being chosen last, I was usually frozen or captured and jailed within 30 seconds. Then, of course, there were the less formal playground games where you were tagged and, in turn, had to be able to run fast enough to tag another person so that you wouldn't be "it" anymore. I spent a lot of time being "it" until I moved on to other, more productive, recess activities.

So, my husband tagged me and now I am suppose to blog in a specific way about a specific thing. It even has rules. I don't really do rules, but since it was my husband who asked, I'll try.

So, rule #1 says: Link to the person who tagged you. I'd really love to do this. I really would. My husband has a very fun and informative blog. He talks about scouts and camping recipes and projects he has going on. I just don't really know how to link. In fact, I don't really know how to do much at all with this blog except write in it. You've probably noticed the lack of pictures and such. Well, yeah....at least I'm good at Math. So, I have a great alternative for this. Brig will just need to post a comment to this post and then you can click on his name and go into his blog from there. He has pictures and links and all kinds of good things in his blog

Rule #2: Post the rules on the blog. Done.

Rule #3: Write six random things about yourself. I should be able to do this part. I am the most random person I know.

1. I like Swiss cheese.
2. I inadvertently and unintentionally count my steps when I walk. I really have to concentrate to stop myself.
3. The carved pumpkin on my front porch is rotting and the lips are curling in and now it looks like a grandpa pumpkin and it makes me snicker when I see it. (See, now would totally be a good time to know how to insert pictures).
4. I wear footed sleepers during the winter months - sometimes all day.
5. My bath to shower ratio is approximately 150:1.
6. I lie about my age to my students. Many think I am 5 years older than I am.

Rule #4: Tag six people at the end of your post. Um, I don't think I even know six people that weren't already on my husband's list and if I'm suppose to link, this is going to be a totally hopeless endeavor. Let's see, Christina, Matt, Kim and anyone who read my blog for the first time in the last week....consider yourself tagged. You can write a comment on this post if you would like to be linked so that we can all read about your respective randomnessess (is that a word?)

Rule #5: Let each person know they have been tagged. Since I am way too lazy to send out emails, I'll just hope that somebody eventually reads this and sees that they should be continuing this exercise. I'm starting to wonder if this is like the chain letters that were going around in the eighties (before the chain emails started a few decades later) and great curses will come on me for not following the rules. I was always the person who broke the chain. Always. Hmmm...maybe that's why my portfolio is down this year.

Rule #6: Let the tagger know when your entry is up. Hey, Brig, I did it (kind of). Aren't you impressed?

A Mathematical Impossibility

2008-10-18T17:39:00.001-07:00

This morning, Michael decided to have some apple juice. On the counter were a few of the boxes that I put in the kids' school lunches, so he took one and poked the straw through and started to drink. Putting the straw in the box was so much fun, that he decided to pull it out and do it again and again and again. Each time he did this, a drop or two made its way to my wood floors. By the time I discovered that he had the box of apple juice, most of the box was still left and he had obviously had some to drink as well. So, at the most, I am thinking maybe a tablespoon or two actually made it onto the floor.

So, this is where I get confused. Within the hour, every surface of my kitchen floor was sticky. The bottom of my shoes were sticky. J's socks were sticky. No one could even walk in the room without sticking to the floor. Our kitchen and breakfast area is at about 200 square feet and I just can't make the math work. How can a few drops of apple juice make the entire floor sticky? This has got to be a mathematical impossibility.

I also want to know how a few minutes of fun for a two year old always turns into a few hours of work for me.

Two Years Old

2008-10-13T07:19:00.000-07:00

Today is Michael's second birthday I went out to Walmart this morning (Walmart in Kentuky is a whole other post - trust me) and I bought him a tricycle, which he fondly refers to as "bi". He doesn't actually know how to ride the tricycle. I'm sure that will come eventually, but in the meantime, he has found other uses for his "bi."

First off, the "bi" has a little trunk that holds stuff. He has placed in it some of his favorite things, such as his fishy bath toy, a half-eaten Oreo and the lego with the eye sticker on it, which is superior to the other legos in every way. Then there is the much needed boost that his "bi" gives him. When he stands on the seat, he can reach the counter top and all kinds of good food stuffs, which is how he acquired the Oreo in the first place.

After I placed the cookies out of reach (even with a "bi" boost), he decided that the tricycle must have other uses. So, he tried to ride it. The problem was that those completely useless pedals were in the way. Everytime he tried to push himself, his stride was cut short. I could see he was getting frustrated. But, never fear, my little darling is a genius (no matter how speech delayed he may be). He turned the bike around and can now go at close to full speed by driving it backwards. Plus, he can reach his trunk without having to turn around in case he gets hungry or needs a lego with an eye sticker on it. Genius I tell you.

Twists and Turns

2008-10-05T17:09:00.000-07:00

Some of the greatest books of all time are children's books. I always steal away my kid's book orders and happily read or reread books that are meant to entertain an 8 year old. One of my favorite series is the Little House on the Prairie books by Laura Ingalls Wilder. She has a quote in one of her books that I have had chance to reference many times in my life. I believe that she was quoting her own mother when she said, "There's no great loss without some small gain."

So, when life happens, as it does quite often at our house, I try to find the small gain and sometimes I have to have faith that that gain may just be an eventuallity. I hope that someday I will look back and think, "Wow, if that hadn't happened, this other thing wouldn't have happened, and now look where we are."

One example that comes to mind is the convoluted way in which my husband and I were even allowed to meet. My husband was in a boy's choir when he was little. Because it conflicted with his church time, he ended up on changing to a different congregation and there he met his best childhood friend, Rob. Rob and him are still friends. When my husband was a teenager, his father passed away. His family moved to Utah to be closer to his sister and there he met back up with his friend Rob. Rob was friends with Julie, who eventually became my roommate. And, well, the rest is history. I am so sorry that my husband lost his father at such a tender age, but I sometimes wonder if there is anyway we would have or could have met if this hadn't happened.

I've wondered about each of our moves and what gain has come from them. Some gains have been more obvious than others. I miss where I grew up and I miss my family, but I know that even with these great losses, there have been small gains. Even if it just means that we have been forced into our independence and reliance on each other.

I've especially been trying to keep this in mind with my sister's passing. As I talk to her husband and think about her small son, I wonder what eventual small gains might come from what seems like such a tragedy. I know that, for myself, I feel a sense of empathy towards others that I don't think I could have without going through this experience. Beyond that, I have yet to understand why things happened the way they did.

Quiet House

2008-10-03T17:01:00.000-07:00

Tonight is the cub scout camp out and so Michael and I are home alone. He went down at 6:00 and now I'm not really sure what to do with myself. I am so used to chaos and craziness that when a quiet night comes, it feels wrong.

After loading both the dishwasher and the washing machine, I decided to work on my last two weeks of College Algebra handouts. But, I'll admit, my heart just isn't in it tonight. I've had a hard week at school and I'm not feeling as motivated as usual. So, I thought I might feel better if I wrote a blog entry and got some of it off of my chest. Maybe after writing it all out I can dive back into school preparation and stop worrying about it.

My Tuesday evening class is, well, spirited. There are 28 students in the class, which is over capacity, and they all have very good attendance. 3 of the students are female, the rest are male. Usually my classes go quite smoothly, but this last Tuesday went all wrong. My students were more on edge than normal and many were yelling out and trying to entertain themselves and others with their comments. One of the less socially aware students finally yelled out a comment that crossed the line of anyone's definition of appropriateness. I wasn't sure if the comment was necessarily directed towards me, but under any condition, it was not something that was acceptable or even repeatable for the curious among you.

Some of my other students, the ones that actually like me, felt offended by the comment as well and chose to use some colorful, but not appropriate, language to let the first student know that his comment was not welcome. It went downhill from there and I actually had 4 or 5 students catch me after class to break the news that their learning had been disrupted that day. Good thing they told me, huh?

So, for the first time in my teaching career, I actually went up a level to deal with a student. I went right to that student's department chair and asked him to please speak to him. Immediately after doing this, I regretted it. I usually like to deal with student problems in house rather than getting others involved. But then, when I thought of what was said, I realized this was not a situation that should be handled by me.

His chair talked to him and I just got an email telling me that the student admitted that he had used profanity and made inappropriate comments directed towards me. He says that he is acting out because he is frustrated and doesn't understand the class very well. He missed an important week and hasn't been able to catch up. I think the email bothered me because, though I am all about helping every student, him feeling lost in the class does not excuse his behavior. I understand that some of my students don't have the best communication skills, but this seemed like a really rotten way to ask for extra help in the class. I told his chair I would do what I could to help him, but he needed to make sure to emphasize to him what was appropriate and what was not in a classroom setting.

So, that's it. That's the story. I'm still not sure what class is going to be like on Tuesday and part of me wonders if the student will even show up. And a lot of me feels guilty for even making a big deal out of it in the first place. Then, there is the part of me that knows that I can not allow myself to be treated like that even if it is under the guise of a pathetic cry for help. Of course, the silver lining to this all is that I am now fully aware that there are people out there with even less in the way of social skills than myself.

Now, back to my class handouts.

Working Mom

2008-09-27T09:49:00.000-07:00

Last night, I was in the car with Spencer. I am fairly sure that this particular child of mine has nothing better to do then sit up at night and think up random questions to ask me in rapid succession anytime we have car time together.

Last night he decided to ask me about my job. "Mom, why do we have two parents that work in our family?" The way he worded the question kind of put me on the defensive. You see, I have been raised in a culture where we moms are encouraged to stay home with our children and, though I consider myself a good parent, it is true that I do work outside the home.

So, I took a deep breath and started to explain to him about my job. I explained that my boys are the most important thing to me in the world and that Mom only works outside of the home for just 7 hours a week because she really likes to be a Math teacher and she feels that it probably makes her a better Mom to be able to get some time away as well. Then, I stupidly added that Mom really doesn't bring in much money anyway and she works more for fun than money. I don't know why I added this last tidbit. It really wasn't information that a six year old needed to know, but it was too late. The next round of questions was already on their way.

"So, Mom, how much money do you make?"

"Um, just not a lot. Dad makes most of the money in our family."

"How much money does Dad make?"

"He makes enough to take care of our family."

After several similar questions in which I gave similarly vague answers, he finally settled down into deep thought. I thought maybe the subject had died down and we could move on to more important things like who had pulled a ticket in class that day and who had chased who at recess. I even broke the silence myself by asking him about his book order from class.

He answered with, "Mom, I just have one more question about your job. Why do you work a job where you don't make very much money?"

"Well, because I like to be a teacher."

"Mom. I think you ought to get a better job. You're a pretty smart Mom and I bet you get a job where you could make a lot of money......and then you could buy me more stuff."

Great.

The Princess and the Pea

2008-09-22T09:00:00.000-07:00

I am convinced that I have some royal blood in me somewhere. I must secretly be a princess. You see, it all goes back to the princess and the pea. If I've got my fairy tale correctly, royal heritage can be determined by an inability to handle even the slightest discomfort, such as a pea under 20 or 100 or some odd mattresses depending on what version you are reading.

This morning, as I lay in bed, praying that Michael would please just keep 5 more minutes without plunging himself over the side of the crib or removing all of his clothes, I felt uncomfortable and itchy and scratchy. I turned and I fidgeted and then finally I just got out of bed and discovered a fraction of a Cheerio on my royal red 600 thread count sheets. Even with all of the cries from the other room, it was actually this morsel of breakfast cereal that forced me out of my bed. Only a true princess could feel something like that, right?

And then, later on, when I had to drive across town to pick up J from school and then drive him to his orthodontist appointment and then stop by McDonald's to feed my royal heir and his very fussy baby brother, I was once again uncomfortable. My eye was watering and itching and it was almost unbearable. As soon as I got home, I ran upstairs and pulled out my contact to discover a single eyelash. My poor eye was reddened and watering. Only someone with real royal blood would have such a reaction to an eyelash, right?

So, now that I am fairly sure that I am a princess, I believe that I probably have some entitlements that I am not taking advantage of. I better get on that.

A Toddler Roams Among Us

2008-09-16T08:21:00.000-07:00

Things have gone missing in our house lately. Yes, a lot of things are gone. Remotes, phones, bananas, legos - they are all missing. I clearly remember this stage with J. He took the can opener and we went a full week without being able to open a can before I finally replaced it. I remember carefully planning our meals around non-can items. Of course, as soon as I bought a new one, the other one was found - on the window sill behind the rocking love seat. I don't know why I didn't think to look there earlier. It seems so obvious now.

Spencer was not near as precocious, but Michael has decided to take after J in this area. Last week Brigham must have been in a hurry as he left to work. I noticed that morning that he had left his Palm Pilot at home and so I quickly picked it up off of the floor and shelved it. The problem was that Michael had noticed it first and had discretely pulled the Palm out of the case and made off with it before I even saw the case. I probably should have noticed that the case was lighter than usual, but I didn't and when Brigham came home, we had another mini-crisis on our hands while we searched all of his usual hiding places. It finally turned up somewhere amongst the toys in his room and we all breathed a sigh of relief.

So, tonight I teach. Last week, on the first day of class, I gave one of my teacher lectures on always bringing your book, pencil and calculator to class each week. I really made a big deal out of it, probably much more than was actually warranted. So, um, my calculator is missing. My big TI-eighty something graphing calculator is gone. I had it last night. I've torn the house apart. I've got to have some kind of calculator before I teach tonight. After all, my pride is on the line.

Oh, please Michael, baby, show mommy where her calculator is.

Retail Therapy

2008-09-13T13:29:00.000-07:00

In general, I am not a retail therapy girl. In fact, I dare say I get more joy from stashing money away in a retirement account than I would ever get from spending it. But, sometimes, even I, cheap as I am, need some new clothes. Today was that day. Brigham got a babysitter and we hit the clothing stores. The goal was to find some new teacher clothes. Which meant professional and conservative, but breathable and comfortable. Oh, and they needed to be cute. Because being cute and really good at math is my shtick.

We started at New York & Co. because I had a coupon. And, even though I needed new clothes, I can only repress my cheap side so much. After searching out a stack of math teacher looking clothes, Brigham and I ambled towards the dressing room. I was pleased to see that our friendly store associate was unlocking the largest dressing room, so that Brigham would have a comfortable place to sit while I changed. But, apparently I was premature in my display of pleasure, because he was not allowed in the dressing rooms due to his maleness. It seemed a little ridiculous to both of us, but Brigham was banned to lean against the belt rack outside the door with the other dressing room widowers.

After the initial disappointment of having to dress in solitude wore off, I found two pair of dress pants that fit the bill. The shirts weren't quite as easy. You see, the divas of the fashion world have decided that the plunging neckline is in season this year. Which wouldn't be a problem so much except I am, well, um, how do I say this....amply endowed. So, putting on one of these shirts transformed me from a "cute college Algebra instructor" persona to more like one of a different profession. I finally found two with higher necklines and a few pair of dangling earrings and we made our way onto other stores that weren't so prejudice against supportive husbands.

Old Navy was next on our list, because, um, I had a coupon. Are you seeing a trend here? I found a few shirts on the clearance rack and Brigham even exercised a little retail therapy with a new pair of jeans and some work pants. This time, our friendly associate led us towards what must have been the smallest dressing room in the place and we happily both jammed into it because we could. With elbows knocking heads, we selected our apparel. Then we paid and left.

So, I have new clothes. I am going to be the cutest math teacher ever come Tuesday. I am also exhausted. Shopping is hard work. I don't know how those other girls do it more than twice a year.

My Mailman

2008-09-12T16:41:00.001-07:00

So, I have a theory about our local neighborhood mailman. I think he takes most of the day on Fridays off. Obviously this is not condoned USPS behavior, but I believe he has a system. He quickly drives up and down his route to make sure that he hits the boxes with standing red flags and then he delivers anything that has a "next day" on it and calls it a day.

Let me give you the evidence and you decide.

First off, I have not received any mail the last three Fridays (and maybe longer - it has only been the last couple of weeks that I have been aware). And, my Saturday mail load has been unusually large as of late.

Secondly, I did see the mailman zipping through our neighborhood today as I left my house to go volunteer at the school (oh, I am so very helpful), but he was only stopping at about every fourth house and in my quick observation of the situation seemed to be only pausing at those houses that needed to have mail picked up. During a normal day, he stops at every house.

Thirdly, our mailman seems to have some competence issues in general. Since, at least once a week, we receive someone else's mail. In fact, when we first moved here, we became friendly with many of our neighbors during mail swaps. Maybe I should be thanking him for giving us that opportunity.

Anyway, those are the facts. What do you think? Not that it matters, because I am entirely too much of an introvert and way too busy to actually do anything about it even if he is skipping out on Fridays. But, I'd be curious to hear your opinions anyway.

The First Week of School...

2008-09-10T14:18:00.001-07:00

No, not the kids, they started up a month ago. It was my first week of school. I taught one class last night and another class this morning. Of course, I get new students every twelve weeks, so I get a lot more first weeks of schools than my kids do.

So, I think it is going to be a good quarter. At least, I hope. It was a good start. All of my students appeared sober during our first meeting which is always a good sign. I only had two absent from each class and most of the ones who were present showed up within the first ten minutes.

I teach at a non-traditional technical college which shall not be named. This quarter, my students range in age from 18 to 58. Last Fall, I had a student that was 64. Some of them had Calculus last year during high school and others got their GED 30 years ago after dropping out of school in the 7th grade. They don't even know what Algebra is.

So, I feel that I can appropriately liken my job to that of a kindergarten teacher. I have to somehow teach ABC's to one group of students while keeping those who came in reading Charles Dickens interested, stimulated and learning as well. At least I don't have to worry about getting bored at work, right?

I do love to teach, though, and I am grateful to be doing it again after a two week break. There is just something great about watching people learn. I love seeing the light bulbs turn on and I love hearing students talk about "exponential expressions" and "the law of Cosines" when just moments before they could be heard talking in language that my Cybernanny won't even let me type.

So, there you have it. I am back in my element and I am happy. I was even nicer to my kids today.

The Woman Cave

2008-09-08T16:09:00.000-07:00

So, today was not the greatest day I have ever had. I don't even think it came in as a close second. In fact, as Office Space so eloquently put it, I think I had a "case of the Mondays". By the way, don't anybody tell mom I saw that show.

Since I don't really want to relive the day, I'll just summarize by saying it included carpooling the "gifted/talented" kids, a trip to the dentist, playgroup in 90 degrees and 90 percent humidity and more than 2 phone calls before 8 a.m. So, to remedy the day, I turned to what my best friend refers to as my woman cave. It is not a place, but rather a state of being: sweet, blissful isolation with only analytical, logical (and quiet) things surrounding me.

One of my favorite woman cave activities is Spider Solitaire. An advantage of being really good at Math is that I have practically perfected this game. I just played ten games in a row (yes, the day has been that bad) on four suits and I won every time. And yet, about every twenty games or so, I will still run into a game I have to play twice to win. So, the challenge is still there, unlike Free Cell, which lost its appeal about 5 years ago. I once went 36 games on four suits without a loss, but that's my record.

Now, I am going to go take a bubble bath and read some mindless (but realistic) fiction, both woman cave activities. Because tomorrow, teaching starts up again, and I must be completely over my case of the Mondays, so that I can display the spellbinding enthusiasm that is expected of all College Algebra instructors.

My Three-Fold Mission

2008-09-05T10:15:00.000-07:00

So, I volunteered at Spencer's elementary school today. This was actually a three-fold mission, though only one aspect was revealed to the general non-blog-reading public. For teachers and students alike, I was there solely as a helpful parent. I smiled. I helped students with their math and then I smiled some more. I was so very, very helpful. The teacher asked me to come back every Friday. Mission #1 accomplished.

Now, for the not-so-obvious missions. The second was to make sure that it was evident to all instructors of my son that I am "that" parent and that my son really is that smart and that they better put him in the top everything or they will have me to deal with. After casual questioining of all of those who seemed to have any authority in the classroom, I was assured that my son was very bright, attending the primary talent pool and being appropriately challenged in every way. The teacher also brought to my attention that sweet Spencer had received a star for every day of school thus far - which means that he has never had a ticket pulled for misbehaving. So, apparently all is well on the academic front. Mission #2 accomplished.

And now for the really top secret mission. The one that I will only admit to myself and those diligent enough to still be reading my long-winded blog. I came to stare down the bully. The kid who has intimidated my son into trying not to wear his glasses. The boy who thinks he can use the word "sissy" anytime he wants. Yes, I wanted to look him in the eye and make sure he knows that I know what he has been doing. I had to be casual about it, since I don't think it is generally acceptable for a parent to confront a first-grader. I walked up behind him and said, "Hi. I am Spencer's mom. I hear that you ride the bus with him." There was pure terror in his face. Then I continued, "I also heard that you met with the Princpal and that you are not going to bother him anymore." He nodded still too petrified to talk. "Good. I just wanted to make sure. Now, do you have any questions with your Math?" And then I looked over his paper and took a moment of guilty pleasure in the fact that the math he was working on, my son had finished early in his kindergarten year. Mission completed.

Lamaze for the Left Brain

2008-09-04T10:07:00.000-07:00

My baby sister, Christina, is pregnant. This is still weird for me on several levels since she will forever be 13 in my mind. But, I guess she does have a husband and a college degree now, so, by society's standards, she is not really jumping the gun. (For the record, she isn't 13 anymore either).

So, as her pregnancy has progressed, I have got to play the older, wiser, big sister. I've shared all of my terrible labor stories and related the merits of sleep training. You know, all of the stuff that every expecting woman needs to know.

But, there is one thing I have failed to relate. My Lamaze class experience. So, I give it to her and you now. When I was pregnant with J, my husband and I took prenatal classes from a Lamaze instructor. There was one problem, though. My mind doesn't exactly work like everyone else's. It just doesn't. So, as the rest of the class was finding their focus point and pretending they were on a beach, I was calculating how many minutes were left in the class. I just couldn't put myself on a beach when we were sitting at least 500 miles from the nearest one. Maybe this is why I've never been able to enjoy reading science fiction. If I'm going to read fiction, it better be realistic fiction.

So, week after week, we attended the class. And, week after week, I became more convinced than ever that an epidural was going to be my only hope for making it through labor. In all fairness, there was one point of the class that I did get - the pushing phase. The plan was, that I was going to push while someone counted to ten, and then I could stop and breathe for a moment. I could do that. It was real. It was measurable. It was quantifiable. Check. Check. Check.

So, the night finally came. I went into labor. I timed contractions, and then I announced to my poor husband, who was preparing for a presentation for class the next day, that it was time to go to the hospital. When I arrived, the people in charge confirmed that I was, indeed, in labor. That is when I put my plan into action. I announced that I would please like my epidural now, pretty please, yes?

The epidural was administered and life was good. It didn't matter that I hadn't found a focus object or even been able to envision the shores of Utah Lake. I was happy and comfortable and playing pinochle with the aforementioned little sister. Then, hours later, something bad happened. The epidural stopped working and I could feel pain and it hurt. Yes, it hurt very bad. But, the midwife assured me that the baby was almost here and it was probably best that I just push it out and call it a day rather than trying to find other solutions for the suddenly non-working epidural. But, you see, it hurt really bad. Not just a little bit, but really, really bad.

So, I tried to think back to my Lamaze class. I couldn't remember anything. Wasn't I suppose to concentrate on something? But who could concentrate when everything hurt so bad? What was wrong with these people? Couldn't they see I was in pain? Am I not in a hospital? Okay, let's see, Lamaze. Um, I'm suppose to push while someone counts to ten. I remember that part. But, it wasn't time to push quite yet. Then I started to hyperventilate and the nurse freaked out and told me that I had to slow down my breathing. So, my husband started counting with me. He counted 1-2-3 as I breathed in and 4-5-6 as I breathed out. As each contraction hit, and they were pretty constant at this point, he counted to six and I breathed in and out and somehow I delivered that baby.

That simple method of counting to six has helped me several times since. When marathon training, I used the same breathing pattern and it carried me through miles. I counted to six over and over and over and 26.2 miles later I would manage to cross the finish line. My older sister and my husband have both claimed that I rhythmically breathe in my sleep sometimes too. When I received the call that my sister passed away this summer, I pulled myself back from a couple of sessions of hysterical crying using this same method.

So, for the left-brained among you, I am offering you my own prenatal advice (free of charge - how generous of me). When you go into labor. Just count to six.

After Ever After

2008-09-01T07:34:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite plays of all time is "Into the Woods". I played in the pit for it on two different occasions and I have parts of it memorized. The first act is just a convoluted mix of traditional and other fairy tales. When my high school did the production and the elementary kids came to watch as a field trip, we ended things there. After all, the first act ends with "happily ever after" - why bother continuing?

The reality of the matter is, of course, that rarely does life cruise along in a holding pattern, especially one of happily ever after. The second act of the play explores what happens when the story is allowed to continue. This was always my favorite part. Not that I necessarily enjoyed watching Little Red Riding Hood walk around with a machete, but I was always a little disappointed with fairy tales as a child. I think it has something to do with my propensity towards realism. Even from a young age, I knew that though happy moments come and go, people don't just live that way forever without further ado.

So, (and I really do have a point here) in all of my vast experience, I have garnered a new theory about happiness. In college, I used to say that the key to happiness is low expectations - which I still believe has some merit to it. But, I have expanded on this. I believe that we can let certain aspects of our life represent happiness. We just need one or two small things that we can look forward to in life and it will be enough to get us through. I'm sure those few things should be church or seeing our children smile, but sometimes it just isn't.

So, with all of this as a preface, I am ready to make a confession. I love the talent based reality shows. In fact, I sometimes feel like an episode of "American Idol" can carry me for a week and Brigham and I even have tickets to go see "So You Think You Can Dance?" live in October. As much as I hate to admit it, I am actually a happier person when these shows are on air. I can drive carpools and teach Math and make dinner and have a smile on my face because I know that I will get to watch "American Idol" or something similar that evening. I bet you didn't see that coming.

...So, there's no more fuss and there's no more scenes. And my garden thrives - you should see my nectarines. But, I'm telling you the same I tell Kings and Queens: Don't ever never ever mess around with my greens! Especially the beans!

Monkey See, Monkey Do

2008-08-29T15:56:00.000-07:00

I have a head cold today, so Wendy's was on the menu for dinner. As I was clearing out my sinuses with a Spicy Chicken Fillet Sandwich, I saw J dip his french fry in his chocolate milk and then I turned to see Michael, who was watching carefully, try to drop a french fry into his milk. I explained to J how carefully Michael watches everything that he does and how he tries to mimic it, so he needs to watch his actions (and maybe one day his words, if the speech therapy works).

Now, I am going to back up some to earlier in the day. Spencer came home from school a little beside himself today. In general, Spencer is very sweet and smart in every way...and I'm not just saying that. Even people who are not his parents say that sometimes. He is tall for his age, but not one of the biggest kids in the class and he is quite skinny. He also wears bifocals, which hasn't been much of an issue for him socially until now. Apparently, a kid from his class has been taunting him on the bus. In fact, I dare say the word bullying. He has been calling him a "sissy" and other not nice words. So, I called the school. I'm not about to let my six year old son deal with this on his own. The vice-principal took my call and said she would leave a message for the teacher and also contact the department of transportation so that the bus aide is aware of the problem.

The teacher called me back this evening. When I described the "bullying" to her, she said, "that actually makes a lot of sense." A few days ago, she had read a book to the class about bullying. In the books there were two boys and one of them wore glasses and the other boy was calling him a sissy and using the same behavior that was used on Spencer. It was meant to open up the conversation about bullying, but instead it was apparently used as catalyst for bullying behavior. As we talked, she said that it sounded like his classmate was acting out the book she had read the class almost exactly. She will talk to him when they get back to class on Tuesday. I have every confidence that it will be taken care of, because Spencer also remembered the book and knew that if someone was treating him in that way that he should tell an adult.

Charlie, two words: Therapy

2008-08-28T07:04:00.000-07:00

My baby has therapy this morning, speech therapy that is. It is true. We have retained the services of a professional to help my one year old to learn to say "ball". The therapist is confident that he is just a little speech delayed and has every expectation that he will catch up by kindergarten, but we see no reason not to get him any help that he might need - the earlier, the better.

In fact, I am a big believer in therapy. Sometimes, things that society believes are suppose to come naturally need to be helped along a little. Sometimes, we just can't figure things out on our own, even if we are, for instance, really good at math. So, here is where I tell you, that I, too, am in therapy. Not speech therapy (though, according to a few of my students, I could probably use that as well), but grief therapy. Last month my sister passed away. It wasn't one of those expected deaths that we were all prepared for. It was sudden and it was traumatic and I guess I needed some help figuring out exactly how I was suppose to grieve. So, believe it or not, there are experts out there on grieving. I'm not sure exactly what would inspire someone to go into that line of work, but the woman I see is one of the most compassionate and real people I know.

I'm not really aware of what I was expecting when I went in, but looking back, I think I wanted a list. Considering my left brain is quite dominate, I wanted it to be a logical process. As a side note, I've often pictured my right brain as a small shriveled walnut that was conquered during my early twenties and is now afraid to come out. But, anyway, back to the issue at hand. Apparently, there is not a list. There are stages, but depending on who you are, you may not even display some of the stages and others may exhibit themselves in non-traditional ways. And that is okay, according to my expert on grief. Which I guess is what I really needed to know. I needed an expert to tell me that I wasn't crazy and that what I was going through was normal for the circumstance. I needed to know that my form of broken was fixable and I needed to know that it was okay that I felt broken. And, as it turns out, even with all of my idiosyncrasies, and with professional help, I was able to grieve, and I am starting to move on.

Post a la Marianne

2008-08-27T08:19:00.000-07:00

My sister, Marianne, has informed me that she will not read my blog because I am too long winded. So, in an attempt to increase my readership by one, and cater to her attention deficiencies, I am writing this post with out my usual flowery commentary. I will simply make two observations about my life since posting yesterday:

1) The book I picked up from the Lexington Public library last night smells like cigarette smoke. By the end of the evening, I was tearing up, but I wasn't sure if it was because the book was good or because my allergies were flaring up.

2) If nutrition and calories were not factors, I believe that I could happily live on Chipotle burritos and Keebler Grasshopper cookies for a good long time.

That is all.

From Preschool to Harvard

2008-08-26T08:58:00.000-07:00

When I was growing up, times were easier. You see, nobody really went to preschool. We all went to the neighborhood elementary school and then it was spelled out from there, depending on the location of your home, through high school. After that, there was probably a choice of college for some people, but, in my family, we all pretty much applied and went to the same college - which was located all of 15 minutes from the home I grew up in. Yes, times were easier.

Way back then, nobody knew or cared if their elementary school was the "good one" in the "good district". Schools weren't required to make their success (or lack thereof) a public record. There weren't magnet schools and performing arts programs and such. There was just the school. Everyone went there. Well, times have changed. I do think it is for the better, but it requires that choices be made and that parents remain diligent. But, since I get stressed out when presented with decisions, and I prefer lazy parenting, I do long for the old days (you know, way back in the eighties).

My oldest son, whom we call J, is at a gifted and talented magnet school this year. He is in the third grade and they work at least a year ahead in all subjects. It requires that we drive him back and forth to the school, which is located downtown. Luckily, we have a pretty nice carpooling system set up. This program doesn't start until the third grade, so he was required to change schools. He also has a strict dress code at his new school. In order to get into the program he had to score very high on both an IQ test and an achievement test. Then, we had to apply and present specific documentation of his "gifted characteristics". Nothing about this was easy or conducive to my lazy parenting style.

Then there is Spencer, my first grader. He is going to the local elementary school about a mile from our home. The problem is that we are not actually in the boundaries for this school due to some political situations that could only happen in Kentucky. So, I had to apply "out of area" for him to attend this school. This was also not an easy process, and required, once again, that I break out of my comfort zone of indolence. I am also in the process of trying to get him into the primary talent pool - which is the gifted, talented program for those younger than the third grade. You would think that naturally, since he is my child, that they would just see the last name and sign him up. But, no, they want me to fill out checklists and show specific documentation. In fact, after seeing the packet that was sent home with him for me to fill out, I am questioning whether or not he is gifted enough to justify the extra work on my part.

Lastly, there is my sweet little Michael. He doesn't even turn two until October 13th, so you would think that I would not have to worry about his long term academic pursuits at this point, but you would be wrong. Because, if I want any chance of getting him into a preschool that isn't glorified daycare, I have to sign up at least a year in advance. That's right folks. Not only is preschool now expected in our complex society, but the waiting lists are a year long. So, this morning, I went down to the Walnut Hill Day School and toured the grounds. The two year old curriculum includes music and Spanish along with the other more common preschool academics. When I informed the director that my son was still struggling with the English language, she laughed like I was obviously joking. Apparently she hadn't noticed that the kid, sweet as he is, doesn't speak. So, I wrote out my huge deposit check and guaranteed him the last slot for the 2009-2010 school year. After all, maybe Spanish will turn out to be his language. If I had been more diligent, I would have done this years ago, like the woman in there with the 7 day old child who didn't want to take any chances.

So, yes, I hate the complexity of it all, but I am still attempting to master the system. I'm sure my children will have plenty to talk about in therapy one day, but it won't be because I didn't try. Next time, tune into my primer on extra-curricular activities for the lazy parent. Subtitled: How to convince the piano teacher to come to your house for lessons.

My Foible

2008-08-23T09:04:00.000-07:00

So, um...yeah, I should probably not be allowed to leave the house anymore. You see, the problem with being really good at math is that, in order to have balance in this universe, there must exist an equivalent ineptness that is just as blatantly obvious as my phenomenal Calculus skills. It can not be helped.

As much as I try to hide my weaknesses, sometimes my diligence wavers and, well, I guess the best way to explain this is by describing my yesterday. So, yesterday...yes, yesterday....well, we were invited to go to a friend's farm. We didn't know these people well (or really at all), but they made it out to be a fun family day and they have a tree house and there will be food and the boys will love it and we should just definitely show up. I'm not usually one to go to people's houses if I don't know them, but since my proverbial job as the wet blanket of the family was being a little overplayed this week, I decided to just go and pamper myself later for the effort. After all, I had a cold Dr. Pepper and a night of Olympics waiting for me when I got home.

So, we arrived at the farm. It all looked a little chaotic. The kids let us in, but there didn't seem to be an adult in sight. There were no father-like people around, and the only female over age ten, was very quiet and appeared to be about sixteen. She hadn't said a word to us and I figured that she was playing the annoyed teenager role. After about ten minutes, it seemed that a parent of some sorts had been located, but was busy feeding the animals. So, since I was fairly sure that we, the company, had not been announced, we made our way outside.

The heat was blistering. I was very uncomfortable both physically and psychologically. So, I found a chair under a tree and watched as the kids taunted the cows and tripped through the watermelon patch. By this time, Brigham had successfully located the person who had invited us over and had started to make small talk. They do scouts together and our sons have had classes in school together. So, some of the tension in the air was starting to fade - for them, at least. I still didn't know anyone and I'm not exactly a blaring extrovert.

Finally, the "only female over age ten" that I spoke of before, came over and sat by me. She didn't say anything for a while...and I started to calculate exactly how long this afternoon was going to last since we had already accepted their invitation to dinner. When I realized that we still had, on the low side, another 3 hours before dinner would even be a reasonable proposition, I decided that my only chance at enjoying myself even a little was to try some small talk with this girl. After all, I'm pretty good with teenagers. Hey, I might have underestimated her. She might even be college age and I teach college kids and a lot of of them think that I am a pretty neat person. This could work. I could talk to this person.

So, I thought about small talk. Let's see. What do people say. Brigham was over there chatting away with the father of Conner, the boy who had invited us over. He looked like he easily had 10 to 15 years on Brigham and they seemed to be getting along like best friends. So, age shouldn't matter. I'm sure I'd have something in common with this girl. Maybe she was in school. We could talk about what subjects she liked. So, I turned to her. And this is when it happened. I never should have opened my mouth, but I did, and I said, "So, you must be Conner's older sister." Then she replied, "No, I'm his dad's girlfriend." And my jaw dropped. There was no recovery after that.

Yeah, it's true, I really shouldn't be allowed to leave the house.

The Olympics

2008-08-22T07:27:00.000-07:00

Last night, as I watched both our men's and our women's 4x100 relay team drop the baton, I started to wonder about my fascination with the Olympics. Upon further reflection, I believe it ties into my obsession with Mount Everest and ultramarathons and even the cannibalistic rugby team that hiked out of the Andes in the seventies. There is something to be said about enduring and doing something really hard and surviving.

I also love the "Olympic Stories." You know, the ones NBC puts on with inspriational music in the background and childhood pictures. I still tear up at the story of Wilma Rudolph who came out of the 1960 Olympic games in Rome with three gold medals after contracting polio as a child and being told she may never walk again. So there doctors. She not only walked, she ran, and she became the fastest woman in the world.

One of the reasons I love being a college Math teacher is because Math is not an easy subject for most people. So, I get to see people struggle and work and, in many cases, conquer a phobia that they've dealt with ever since they had that pre-Algebra teacher in junior high that spit when he talked and had a bad case of eyebrow dandruff. I do understand that passing College Algebra is not equivalent to doing the 100 meters in 9.69 for most people, but it can leave the same sense of accomplishment and the same high.

In fact, I think we all have those things in life that are set before us to conquer. For most of us, it is not a World Record. Nobody is going to take our picture by a time clock with a flag drapped around our shoulders and declare us a champion. It is more likely that we are just making it through another Monday at work or another ten minutes of carpool time with three boys from the "gifted and talented" school who don't seem to understand the concept of "don't touch each other".

Of course, the Olympics is also a reminder that we are all human and there will be days when we just don't have it in us. Even if we are the favorite, we just might be having a bad day, but our job isn't to always win, it is to finish the race. The most touching part, to me, of watching the Olympics last night was seeing Lauryn Williams drop the baton and then go back, pick it up, and cross the finish line.

My Blog

2008-08-21T10:33:00.000-07:00

Last night, as my husband and I were laying in bed, he turned to me and said, "You know, you really should start a blog." I told him that blogging wasn't really my thing. In fact, since entering motherhood and suburbia and the South and my thirties, I have discovered that there are a number of areas of life which I would classify as "not really my thing."

For instance, I don't like to answer the phone or call anyone. I can't exactly point back to a specific time when this phobia started. I do remember anxiously waiting by the phone as a teenager for someone or anyone to call, so it must be something I've acquired in my adult years. This used to be a major source of contention when my family decided that they wanted to order pizza for delivery. Because, you see, it used to be that you couldn't simply go on to papajohns.com and interact with just your computer (as it should be). You used to have to call and talk to someone - someone that you didn't know - and you had to tell them that you wanted pizza - and then you had to get all specific about toppings and sizes and such. It just seemed like such an invasion. So wrong.

And then there is my little problem with names. After teaching school for a decade plus and changing students every 3 months, I can no longer remember anyone's name. And when I do remember a name, I place it with the wrong last name. I can't even keep my kid's names straight and there are only three of them. Dale Carnegie would not be impressed.

But, as I thought of all of these things that "aren't really my thing", I realized that I do most of them anyway. Much to my chagrin, I still use the phone - probably even daily. I still attempt to address people by their name. I even partake in many of the social niceties of the South, though this part has become strictly academic for me. So, why not blog?