I'm not going to make it to Christmas break.

Remember last year, or maybe the year before when this blog about the end of the school year was making the rounds? I swear, that mom and I could be BEST FRIENDS FOREVER. She just gets that the end of the school year is basically parties and not even worth the energy it takes to get your kids to school. But here's the thing, it's December and I already feel that way. Like, she's limping across the finish line and I'm not even at the halfway mark yet, and I totally give up.

I should have known that this year was doomed for failure when I lied on Reese's reading log on the first week of school. Twenty minutes a night is overkill anyways. But seriously, I had no idea that today was Reese's class party. Apparently the email AND the paper flyer that came home last Friday didn't make it through my "fuck school" mentality. Or, maybe, just maybe I blacked out the thought that I would have to get through an entire morning routine, with three children, two of which hate the mornings, for my child to learn nothing and party all day. And these party people are the people trying to convince me that twenty minutes a night is important? Oh girl.

And the thing is, the kids are just as done as I am. Camden doesn't start school until 11:20, and this morning I let him have a PJ play date from 8am until it was time to go to school. Don't worry, I set aside five minutes for him to change his clothes and brush his teeth. The Elf isn't even helping anymore. They realize that his beady little eyes can only follow you so far, and then they're on their own. They act like little angels in front of Snowflake, and as soon as they're out of eye shot they turn into wild children who might be being raised by wolves. It's like I'm raising criminals, and training them to only be bad when the police aren't watching.

Everett hasn't even had a nap this week, because four of five days have been early release. Dude, just give us all five days. OR. Bundle all those early release hours up and let us start Christmas break one day early. Both big kids are having two days of parties this week, so I'm thinking that the only people more done than I am are the teachers. Today when I was volunteering in Camden's class I'm 98% sure that we were teaching the kindergarteners how to play craps. I mean, it's a life skill so I happily participated. Plus, I have no idea how to play craps (because pregnant at 19, obvi) so we both learned something.

We are so, so close to the end of this week, and tomorrow is even PJ day, so I don't even have to get anyone dressed. Two more lunches to pack, two more reading logs to forge, two more drop offs and we are done for two whole weeks. Cheers to that!

Tuesday Ramblings

Parenting is like walking a tight rope sometimes.  You love your kids more than anyone in the world, and you genuinely see the best in them 99% of the time, which leaves you in a serious pickle when you notice that they really suck at something.  So the thing is, Reese loves to sing.  We used to joke when she was little that she lived her life like a Disney Princess, always in song.  But homegirl can't sing.  At all.  This morning she was belting out Taylor Swift and I was so sure that the dogs were going to start howling it was that bad.  She does this weird, deep, man voice.  I can't even describe it so just know that it's painful.  But, how do I tell her that?!  I'm her mom, and I think that the sun shines out of her little booty, so if I think it's bad can you imagine what other people think?  And here's the thing, I don't care if she belts out tunes at home, or with her girlfriends, or anywhere else for that matter.  Singing and dancing is fun!  But I mean, I have to interfere before she goes on American Idol.  I don't ever want her to feel public humiliation.

Or, maybe she sings beautifully and it's just the carb withdrawals making me think that it's awful.  Probably not, though.  But onto the carb withdrawals, with the exception of Friday night I've been keeping my carbs at or below 100 grams.  It is so tough!  I know that I don't need a ton of carbs right now because I'm doing nothing that requires energy, but man oh man do they taste delicious.  I think that I might start Wednesday Weigh Ins again, just to stay on track.  It's too easy to lie to yourself, ya know?

I'm gearing up for the Whole30.  I think I'm going to focus on making a month long menu and grocery list, and try to get some of the breakfast foods cooked & frozen so that I can offset the cost in January.  Oh, and to be super prepared too.  Totally.  If you're going to do it with me, I'm reading the book It Starts With Food, so hopefully I go into it with a clearer head this time.  Last time I did it it was because Paleo was cool, now I just know that my system needs a reboot, and I wonder if it will help with the leftover bursitis in my right hip.  We shall see!

There's a Dead Body in my Backyard

Not a human body, obviously, but a dead hamster body and a dead body is a dead body.  Before we delve into the hamster funeral let's cover some basics.  Last year for Christmas, Santa brought Reese a special 'North Pole' hamster, that could never be replaced so she had to take super good care of it.  And for the most part she did.  Except for the incident, which was all Camden's fault, and Reese has no idea.

The incident started out like any other day, Reese off to school and Cam, Evi and I home playing. Camden asked if he could go play with the hamster, and I said yes.  He goes upstairs, gets the hamster and starts playing.  Two things I want to interject with here.  The first is that Camden was always so gentle with the hamster that I never worried when he had it.  The second is that I am a naive fool.  So a few minutes later Camden starts screaming for me about something being wrong with Mr. Nibbles.  I run upstairs and find a hamster that has been beaten to death by a plastic shark.  I totally panic, contemplate sending Camden to future serial killer rehab, and then do what any good mom would do and lie and say that the hamster is just taking a nap.  And then I replace the dead hamster with a live one.  And that is how the first Mr. Nibbles met his untimely end.

Now, the hamster that we replaced Mr. Nibbles the first wasn't an exact match color wise, so we continue our train of lies and tell Reese that it's 'molting.'  The thing about Mr. Nibbles II is that he's a dick, and won't let any of the kids get close to him.  I guess that when hamsters molt their personalities also change, but that once the molting process is done, they go back to normal.  Our kids are going to be so messed up as adults.  The original Mr. Nibbles was such a nice, friendly rodent that we couldn't leave a dick in it's place, so I return him to Petsmart.  Have you ever returned a pet to a pet store?  They look at you like you're a monster who might be raising a serial killer.  Little did they know that only half of that is true.  But seriously, you work at a store that mass breeds small rodents for profit, you aren't exactly in the moral high ground on this one.  So, after many dirty looks I return Mr. Nibbles II and buy Mr. Nibbles III.  Clearly I made the third hamster purchase at a different pet store so that my name didn't go into some database.

Anyways, onto Mr. Nibbles III.  He replaced the original Mr. Nibbles perfectly!  He was friendly, almost a completely different color, but it's fine, it's just what he molted into, and Reese was none the wiser.  She really is so pretty.  Have you ever had small children and a hamster?  That thing is worth every cent of the $8 you spent on it.  It entertains them for hours!  That poor hamster was regularly an ice cream man, part of Barbies dream life, a pirate, or any other variation of their imagination.  At one point they trained the hamster to go through a maze for a treat.  Seriously, get your kids a hamster, you'll never have to make up things for them to do again.

Well, the other night things didn't go so well.  I asked Reese to make sure that Mr. Nibbles III had food and water and when she went to pet him she discovered his cold, stiff little body.  Actually, first she picked it up, noticed that it was dead and then threw it back into his cage.  I think that both of us might be scarred for life after that.  She freaks out.  That might be an understatement.  She spends a solid hour sobbing and chanting "I....want....Mr.....Nibbles..." over, and over, and over again.  To distract her we decide to have a funeral.

Hamster funerals are quite interesting.  They're basically real funerals for a tiny rodent that you aren't really sad is dead, so you have no idea how to act.  Let me just break it down for you.  First, you have to pick out a casket.  A shoebox will do just fine.  But you can't just bury a dead hamster in a shoebox, you have to make sure it'll be comfortable in the afterlife.  So you fill it with it's bedding and wrap the dead rodent in a rag that you've been begging your kid to get rid of forever and then you tape the shit out of that box.  No need to chance the dogs digging up and ripping into that box.  Could you just imagine, Reese coming home from school only to see little bits of hamster fluff all over the backyard?  I could never afford the therapy bills.

Then you have to bury the box.  Interesting fact, this is significantly easier to do in the movies than in real life.  Mark starts to dig and gets like 18" down before he hits straight clay and rock.  You can't dig through that shit with a shovel, so that's as deep as that hole gets.  You put the taped-to-shit casket in the hole, and then, because you've watched way too much CSI know to sprinkle kitty litter in that hole to absorb the rotting animal smell.  At this point both your child and husband will be crying.  It's fine though, because the third step of rodent funerals is the eulogy.

This part is very sweet, and touching.  Reese had written Mr. Nibbles III a note, which she read out loud (after a motivational speech, given by Mark).  Even heartless I got a little bit choked up at this part.

To close the funeral out your crying husband should give the Lord's Prayer while you silently wonder if you should be preparing light appetizers and cocktails for the reception to follow.  At that point I remembered that is was almost 9pm, and that showers were to follow this event, not cocktails and usher everyone inside.

And then, the next day your 8 year old daughter and all of her friends have the most morbid playdate ever, and reenact the funeral, complete with sobbing, a moment of silence and fighting.

And that is the story of how there is now a dead body in my backyard.  RIP Mr. Nibbles III.

The Homework "Gray Zone"

Oh my gosh you guys, I think I've committed a mortal sin.  That might be a tad dramatic, but just stay with me on this one.  If your family is anything like mine then you've also been doing the sports hustle.  The one where one parent is shuffling one kid off to Sport A, while the other parent is shuffling another kid off to Sport C, and eventually you guys will meet in the middle at Sport B, and hopefully one of you has remembered the third kid.  Shits getting crazy around here.  

Amidst the shuffle of sports, the state is pretty adamant that we still educate our children.  God knows why, Common Core is basically mind fucking them anyways.  But, with education comes homework.  I have such a love/hate relationship with homework.  On the one hand, I feel like it really ties me into what they're working on in class and keeps everything connected.  On the other hand, I really hate wasting time doing homework.  My feelings aside, homework has to get done, and wine has to get consumed.  It's a hand in hand process, my friends.

So, back to our story at hand.  Reese is in 3rd grade now.  It's a grade that really teeters on 'fun kid school!' and 'holy shit, you're a big kid now' school.  So, sometime in September she got assigned a book report.  We were so on top of that ball it hurt.  We had our book read way before the assigned 'finish reading your book by' date (because it was like 3 weeks out from the date we were handed this assignment), our rough draft was turned in and corrected way early, and then we even managed to type up the final draft!  And then the madness happened.  We had A MONTH from the date that the rough draft was handed back to Reese to the final due date, so, we did what every busy family would do and set it aside.  

The night before the project is due rolls around, and I reread the instructions, and not only is her (now neatly typed) book report due the following day, so is a visual aid and a presentation.  Justkillmenow. So, we get home from cheer at 6:30 and Reese starts making a poster.  Which is literally taking for-freaking-ever.  I mean, how does one even color so slowly?!  It baffles me.  We take a break from our poster, eat dinner, clean up dinner, and start back in on the poster.  At 8:30 we are still working on this damned poster, and suddenly I have a light bulb moment!

"Reese, why don't you say your presentation to Mommy while you color, and I'll write it down for you!"

It was genius, guys.  Nothing could go wrong.  We might even get to bed by 9:30!  Until this sentence happened.

"But I don't know what to say, Mommy."

A large amount of expletives were said in my head, but it's ok, because I'm a problem solver and I had this on lock.  So, here's how her presentation was written (I should probably just be calling this our presentation):

Me: "What was the title of the book that you read, and who was the author?"

Reese:  "Matilda by Roald Dahl."

Me: "How did this story start?"  

"What was the middle?"  

"How did it end?"  

"Who are these characters?"  

"What was the best part?"  

"Would you recommend this book to your friends?"

She answered and I kind of summed things up here and there, and wrote them down for her presentation.  Seriously, it was some gray zone shit.  I don't know that I necessarily wrote her presentation for her, but there was no way it would have sounded the way it did had I not coached every single word out of her mouth.  I don't even know where to go from here.  Do I tell the teacher?  Hell to the no, we don't have time to redo that project.  Do I talk to Reese about it?  Maybe just mention that I helped her so much because this was her first time, and next time she'll be more independent?  Or, do we just forget that this project happened, and try harder the next time?

I should add, we didn't get to bed until 10:30 that night, even with my help.  It's fine though, all of the good parents teach their 8 year olds the magic art of procrastination, and how it leads to better papers in college.  

My Husband is a Rockstar

Oh man, one blog post a week just isn't going to cut it.  Last week was CRAZY here!  The big kids started school, and they are both having such a great experience.  Reese started third grade, and this is the first year in a while that she has started with friends in her class.  She was super stoked to start school, and, we're four days in and she hasn't cried about waking up once.  She hates mornings like you wouldn't believe, so no tears is amazing.  Camden started kindergarten, and he's doing well.  At least that's what they're telling me (insert winking emoji).  After school on the first day I go to pick him up, and we find out there was a minor 'crossing of streams' incident, and he ended up peeing on a friend.  Yikes.  But, we haven't heard of any other problems, so we are just going to call that a case of first day jitters and hope that our first full week goes smoothly.  

I also went with a few friends to see the Rascal Flatts concert, and it was such a great time!  Almost as good as the people behind us.  Ha!  Let me tell you, if you're going to whisper dirty things in the hot girls ear you should first be sure of two things. 

1.  You should be sure that you're the guy she's going to go home with, and not your good buddy.

2.  You should be sure that you are, in fact, whispering.

It was so crazy!  Every time I turned around it was like couple swap.  The first time it was plaid shirt guy and sleeveless vest guy dirty dancing.  The second time it was sleeveless vest guy and black dress girl basically needing a room.  The third time it was plaid shirt guy and black dress girl all over each other.  I'm curious as to who went home with who that night.  If I could redo the night I would definitely have worked my way into the friend group just to get the gossip.

 In other news, I am having some major pre surgery anxiety.  I feel like a walking, talking basket case.  It's not even the surgery itself that scares me, it's the recovery.  It's a big recovery process, and it requires me basically handing over my entire job to Mark.  You know, my husband who also has a full time job.  I'm nervous for him.  I do a lot of stuff during the day/evening, and he has to take it all on, and it's basically the equivalent of a full time job.  So I guess for the next few weeks he will have two full time jobs.  The past week he has been such a rockstar.  Every time I feel myself getting nervous he's there, he's totally done every project that needs to be finished, and is overall being so supportive, and it really is giving me the confidence to feel like these next few weeks are going to be great, and that he will be able to handle it.  I am so lucky to have someone so supportive in my life.

Onto meal prep.  Blah.  Here's my plan.  I need healthy lunches for the next two days.  Wednesday and most likely Thursday I will be in the hospital, and Friday I can figure out something (you know, like sending Mark out to get me Thai food).  So, for lunch I will make ground turkey with steamed broccoli and squash, in Rotel.  It kind of looks like vomit, but tastes so good.

For dinner I have tonight worked out, tomorrow is a mystery, Wednesday I will be in the hospital, and Thursday and Friday will come from my freezer, for sure.  Tonight is so good, and so simple!  Do you guys ever eat chicken sausage?  I love the Alfresco brand, and they have tons of different types.  So, tonight is going to be crazy busy, and I am going to have to make dinner late, and it needs to be quick.  I sauté up the chicken sausage with peppers and onions, and serve it over noodles with parmesan for the kids, and just plain for Mark and I.  I usually eat two links because the protein is kind of low on only one,  and it's still super low in calories and carbs.

This is getting long, I'll wrap it up.  Mondays are the best because it's a fresh start.  Screw how badly you did this weekend, celebrate your wins and keep going on that high.  

A Little of This and A Lot of That

Things are about to get crazy around here.  Fall sports are starting, which means we literally have something to do every...single....night for the next three months.  Oh, and I'm having hip surgery at the end of the month and will be on crutches for most of September.  No big deal, I can totally get three kids in three different directions for a month, all while not being able to drive.  Ha!  What doesn't kill us, right?  Actually, how I'm really going to get through this is my amazing village.  Everyone is offering to help in any way that they can, and I am totally taking them up on their offers. I swear, I have some of the best friends.  Oh, and I also have Everett's hernia repair surgery the second week in September.  Poor planning on my part, to put it mildly!

Cam started soccer last night, and it may have been the cutest thing that I've ever seen.  He is totally loving it, AND, he's actually paying attention and following the rules!  If this is any insight as to how kindergarten is going to go I feel like I can take a huge sigh of relief.

I mean, look at how sweet that smile is.  Clearly he's the next pint sized David Beckham.

Reese is in cheer, and tumbling, and flyers class and every other thing that seems to come with cheer, but I've never seen her like a sport as much as she likes cheer.  We tried everything first, and she just doesn't have that competitive spirit that seem to be required for the other sports.  Sometimes (most times) I think that she has a heart of gold.  She is so quick to point out the positive, and is fiercely loyal to her friends, and I love that with cheer the group of girls she started with will be the same group that she cheers with through high school.  Anyways, I don't have any pictures of her because my phone broke (errr....got dropped), and I can't use the right side of the screen to do fun things like take pictures, or make calls.

So I previously mentioned losing 15 lbs, and how proud I am of myself for it!  I worked my butt off for those pounds, and I am so happy with the results.  Coming out of the challenge I was so nervous about rebounding and gaining all of the weight back.  I'm still not at my goal weight, and now isn't the time for me to worry about getting there, but it also isn't the time for me to pity eat a bag of Cheetos every night either, ya know?  I've been taking the diet more in moderation, not tracking calories or macros, just eating as clean as I could while still enjoying life.  I've been so nervous that I've gained weight that I haven't stepped on the scale since the 4th of July.  But, surgery is coming, and my goal is to go into it weighing 132 pounds.  I was 138.6 on the 4th, and I have no idea where I am now, but all of my clothes are fitting the same, so I'm hopeful that I've maintained.  With only three weeks until surgery now is definitely the time to buckle down if I want to accomplish that goal.  So, I'm back on the MyFitnessPal app, consistently weighing and tracking my food, and back in the gym 4-6 days a week.  Oh, I'm also back off of the booze train.  It just sucks all of your weight loss away from you.  Life can be such a bitch like that.  

I need to keep track, and since I'm not going to step on the scale until surgery morning I need to keep track somehow.  I've decided that I'm going with weekly photos.  This is really putting it all out there, and taking a huge chunk of courage, but part of this journey is building my self confidence, so here goes nothing.  This is what I looked like on the morning of 4th of July:

And here is where we are at this morning:

(remember when I said I broke my phone?  no fancy apps to fit everything into one pic anymore)

I wish I would have done the same pose for the original and then this week.  Next week I for sure will!  Hopefully over the next three weeks there will be a noticeable difference.  And then, hopefully there are abs there next summer. Hey, a girl can dream, right?