Simply Incredible

Happy Halloween! 

Not My Niche

Our elementary school is hosting a fundraising 5K run next week. For a small donation,  one receives a t-shirt, and runs 3.1 miles.

As it's the first year, our little town is abuzz.
Who's running?
Who's jogging?
Will there be a lot of entries?

After listening to various moms at pick up, I know many are ready and eager. They've got their running sneaks ready. Signs promoting the race have polka dotted yards, encouraging the public to sign up. My inbox included friendly reminder emails to register while a paper reminder found it's way into Mo's folder.

It seems that this race is a who's who of the parent association. It's time to get your run on!

I've been asked if I'll be there. I paste a fake smile on my face, and emphatically reply,  No.

See the truth is:

I do not run around the street. 

I do not run with my two feet. 

I do not run up or down.

I do not run around the town. 

I do not like to run you see. 

Running is not the sport for me.

I try and try to like it so.

I hate it, hate it, now you know. .

I will not be at this running race. 

You will not see my smiling face. 

I do not like to run you see. 

Running is not the sport for me. '

I've been told I'm missing out. 

You'll love it, my friends all shout.

Together they jog away all cute, 

As I turn away and scoot, 

I do not like to run you see.

Running is not the sport for me. 

A jogging stroller is meant for you, 

to push while jogging, who knew?

The running moms push in line, 

Easily maneuvering as I stroll behind. 

I do not like to run you see. 

Running is not the sport for me. 

I miss that bit of social life, 

Since I am not a running wife. 

Jealous that I do not have that, 

That happy time to run and chat. 

I do not like to run you see. 

Running is not the sport for me. 

Instead, I'm forced to find other places, 

To chat with friends, enjoy their faces.

No running for me, at the park, 

or early morning while it's dark.

I do not like to run you see. 

Running is not the sport for me. 

So Sunday morning when they run 

I'll be home, missing the fun. 

As a non runner, a 5K you say?

My response, is absolutely no way!

I do not like to run you see. 

Running is 

no way

no how

 the sport for me. 

\

Long Term Memory

Did you know once a upon a time there was a show called Rock and Roll Jeopardy? 

Everyone knows about Jeopardy. What is the most famous question and answer show on television? 

 

Now, imagine Jeopardy, but instead of topics like Operas and Famous Historians from France, topics like music from Molly Ringwald movies and Van Halen songs were the norm. 

I rocked Rock and Roll Jeopardy. For some reason I have a very unique and wide variety of pop culture references in my long term memory. In a nutshell, I seem to remember stupid stuff. 

This week Stasha and her Monday Listicles asked for Ten Things I Shouldn't Know, and so I can't help but go the pop culture route. 

1. There was a show called Rock and Roll Jeopardy. 

2. Stacy Ferguson AKA Fergie from the Black Eyed Peas was Stacy from Kids Incorporated, which also later starred Jennifer Love Hewitt. Mario Lopez was a background dancer too. 

My sister and I may not have been mildly obsessed with this show. 

3. Even though they both played baby Michelle on Full House, Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen aren't identical twins. They are nearly identical. 

4. Debbie Gibson had a perfume called Electric Youth,- the same name as her popular song. It should be noted this perfume had a very similar to smell as burnt candle wicks. 

5.  Before Sex in the City, Sarah Jessica Parker was Annie on Broadway. 

6. When I wrote #5, I remembered that Sarah Jessica Parker can also be found starring along side Helen Hunt and Shannen Dougherty in one of my favorite '80's movies- Girls Just Want to Have Fun! 

7. Cyndi Lauper, who wrote and sang Girls Just Want to Have Fun also is responsible for Goonies R Good Enough,  the theme song to The Goonies. 

8.  Molly Ringwald was in the first few episodes of The Facts of Life. 

9.  When I think of soap operas, 

I think over the top, very dramatic and sexified. 

I think big city! 

However, did you know the soap opera - The Young & the Restless takes place in Genoa City WISCONSIN? 

(This one's for you mom!) 

10. I still watch episodes of Freaks & Geeks and wonder how it only lasted one season? 

The amount of talent on that show is ridiculous and speaks of a calling card for Hollywood today. 

Seth Rogen, Jason Segal, James Franco. Linda Cardellini, Busy Phillips, Judd Apatow.....

What things do you know that you shouldn't?

Link up with 

Look Ma, No Hands

At eight and a half month, dear Margo seems to have lost any sense of fear, and hesitation as she began letting go and standing.

No Hands!

Not quite twenty four hours after this photo was taken, she took three steps unassisted between Bryan and I. 

I don't know if I'm ready for a walker, especially one so tiny?

At least she's cute!

The End

And so it happened.

Some how. Some way. Even though I tried with all my might to prevent it.  September is here.

I have never minded turning another year older. I've never been one to lie or hide my age. While thirty five seemed old when I was in high school, now it's nothing. Thirty five? Wow!

Usually I am up to celebrate, preferably with a yummy cake and lots of presents. I'll admit, I like being the center of attention. Sing to me at restaurant if you must. Scribble your name on a card. Even hand me some birthday balloons, and I'll gladly accept.

Happy Birthday to me!

However, this year, the thought of my birthday brings a little pit in my stomach. My birthday has always been the signal that summer is coming to an end. The time to prepare for back to school.

For nearly eight years, I spent my birthday getting my own classroom together. I'd still get those butterflies the few days g before. The anticipation, the excitement coupled with a small dose of worry over the pending school year would come to a fever pitch that first day.

Would there be any issues?
Would I be able to reach them all?
Would they learn?
Would they have fun?

That first morning, I would get into the school extra early. Adjusting my new outfit, ensuring desks were in perfect rows, pencils were sharpened, and the date meticulously written. Texts, workbooks, folders, crayons, glue sticks all brand new waiting for their owners.

The little bodies would meet me in the front of the school. Lined up ready to go, as parents stood along side. Wiping away stray tears, waving good bye feverishly as they shouted wishes of love and luck to their wide eyed children as they parade down the hall to their new classroom.

There's nothing quite like that first day of school!

Now, it's been some five years since my last first day. I'm now experiencing those jitters as I'm on the opposite side.

How did this ever happen?

On Wednesday morning, she will wake up extra early and adjust her new outfit. She will check and recheck her tote bag, ensuring it is filled with the new folders, crayons, scissors, and glue sticks her teacher has requested.

The excitement and energy will pulsate through our home as we ready Moira for her first day of Kindergarten. Amid anxiety, I will force her to eat breakfast as I choke back my own tears as we head off to school.

Instead of walking down the hall to meet my own class, I'll be on that other side.  Her teacher will emerge, as Moira joins in with her peers leaving me waving furiously goodbye. I will watch her disappear into elementary school, placing all my faith in her teacher.

I'll be left questioning:
Will there be any issues?
Will her teacher be able to reach her?
Will she learn?
Will she have fun?

How did we get here already?

Being on that other end, has given me a unique opportunity. I already know what magic is in store in the Kindergarten classroom. This June, she will be a totally different creature. It is inevitable as she will have grown and learned so much. Knowing this, I am so happy for Moira, but I can't help but inhale a bit deeper as I think about how quickly these five years have flown by.

So, Happy Birthday to me! This year amid the cake and presents, I'm hoping to savor these next few hours. While my birthday may be over, we still have one day of Summer vacation left, and then

Kindergarten, here Moira comes!

The Girls

The women's locker room at the our community pool is as one imagines most bathrooms at summer swimming establishments. Dingy. Cold. Gross.

Walking into the stall, I usher Maeve around me. Her wet ponytail bobbing up and down as she prances on her tiptoes.

"I don't hafta go anymore mama." She says in her usual sing songy voice.

"Um, you just raced out of the pool. You were grabbing yourself. You need to go potty." I say, ushering her onto the toilet. The stall door closes behind me.

Fumbling with the lock, she continues, "Um, why you do that mommy?"

"Excuse me?" I ask. "Why am I locking the door?"

"Uh-huh" she says.

"So no one walks in when you go potty. And so that no one walks in when I go potty next".

Nodding her head, she agrees with "Oh, okay mama."

I am wearing my new black halter bathing suit for only the second time. Tying around my neck and offering a deep v, I am a bit self-conscious of myself. I adjust the cups of my bathing suit, ensuring that things stay put as my nursing boobs seem to have a mind of their own at times.

Maeve watches, from the confines of the toilet seat. Eyes transfixed on my maneuvering.

"Whatcha doing Mama?" she asks.

"Are you done going potty?" I rrespond.

She continues, "I no hafta go. What are you doing with you swimsuit?"

"I'm just making sure it keeps everything covered Maeve". I say. "Now go potty!"

"I done. Why you want everything covered Mama?" she asks.

"Because I don't want people to see my boobs."

The laughter fills the stall. "Mommy" she starts, "We see you boobies now."

"Um, no you can't" I assure her. "My boobies aren't out".

"Yeah. I see you boobies now." she says again, pointing to my cleavage.

"No, Maeve. You do not see my boobs."

"Well," she continues, "I guess I not see ALL you boobs. But I do see them go up and down and up and down when you walk".

And then she starts laughing.

Thanks kid.

Leave it to my three year old to make me even more self conscious in a bathing suit because of my "girls".

And God created Yoga Pants.

"Your kids are always so nicely dressed and put together."

My cousin recently mentioned this to me at a birthday party.

It is true.

I am a bit of a crazy person with the older girls and their hair.

If they want it long, then it has to be up. From an early age, I would put their hair up, no excuses.

Thus, terms like "soccer hair"- two french braids, "softball hair"- half -up braid and then another braid to ensure the batting helmet can stay on, and "swimming braids" - two braids to keep goggles in place, have become part of our lexicon.

They don't expect to be permitted to leave the house with their hair down or in a headband alone.

Call me crazy, but the last thing I want is having to negotiate knots and tangles at the end of the day. I have been known to change out pigtails for braids mid-way through an event, like a baptism or party.

Clothing is another debate. Moira would prefer t-shirts and comfy shorts every day, while Maeve rotates from a steady supply of summer dresses. If I need Mo in a dress, it's a production. Conversely if we're going somewhere that necessities Maeve in shorts, it's a production. 

Two girls, same parents, same house, similar DNA, yet so very different. 

Thank God Margo still lets me put her in whatever I desire. 

It's not them, however that I'm choosing to write about today. 

It's me. 

I have a confession.

Margo is a week away from eight months, and in this period of time, I can count on two hands the times I have worn bottoms that do not have elastic waistbands. I shy away from jeans, shorts, capris, instead wearing yoga pants, yoga capris, and elastic waisted skirts. 

The same skirts I wore last year with my pregnant bump. 

I am in a style rut.

I look disheveled.

I'm not proud, and honestly, I'm kind of depressed about it.

My belly is disgustingly stretched out, and my clothes all fit strangely. Add horrible nursing bras to the mix, and I'm one sad looking individual.

I feel like prior to getting pregnant, I was slowly getting back to some resemblance of me. Grant it, I wasn't one hundred percent happy with the way I looked, but I had started to develop some style.

And then I got pregnant.

Maternity dressing wasn't so bad either. I did my best to accessorize, add color, and change it up.

But now, here I am wearing the same uniform almost daily: black yoga capris & a t-shirt or a pull on skirt with a v-neck t.

How Exciting?!?

I hate feeling like this, but I don't even know where to start. I've tried shopping online, but I know that I need to physically try things on. I really wish in the explanation of items they would say, "This piece is great in hiding that mama pouch!" or "Perfect for those breastfeeding enormous boobs!" Until that happens, my purchases online for clothing will be reserved for the girls.

As for shopping in person, that's another obstacle. I'm rarely in a position where I can try things on alone. Usually, all three kids are in tow, thus leaving little room for me to twist and twirl in front of the mirrors.

Yesterday, on a trip to Target, I brought a few things into the dressing room. Under the watchful eye of my budding fashionistas, I collected various skirts, a few shirts, and two pairs of jeans to try on. Not five minutes in, Margo started crying, Maeve kept going on and on about the toy aisles, while Mo asked when we would be finished. This is exactly the type of environment that leads to ridiculous purchases: like an orange, pink, and white skirt that for some reason had side cut outs like running shorts.

I ended up buying that skirt and a pair of jeans, after getting votes of approval from Moira and Maeve.

Yes, my five and three year old were my votes of validation.

I should have known better, because they were off. Trying the skirt on at home, without the pressures of the changing room, I realized how ill fitting it truly was. Bryan's confirmation of my suspicions led to another field trip to a different Target today to return the skirt.

I've tried scouring my closet, but I'm just too damn tired and lazy. Some of my previously favorite pieces aren't fitting the way they once did. I've looked to the web, and pinterest for inspiration, but I'm at a loss. I wish I could figure out how to do it, without breaking the bank and my self esteem.

I just want to look pretty again, and I don't want to put any time or energy into getting that way.

Is that a lot to ask for?

So, for now, when you see me in real life, wearing the same yoga pants and t-shirt for the one hundredth time, be kind.
I'm working on it.