Patience...

...is a virtue I lack. 

Everything involved with this process involves waiting and it is beyond stressful. 

Have a test? 

Wait for the result. 

Have a question? 

Wait for the reply. 

Follow up with the doctor? 

Wait for that appointment. 

Want to schedule surgery? 

You'll have to wait a few weeks to get on the roster. 

AAAAAAAAAAAAH! 

I do have a surgery date though. 

May 17, 2021 will be the day I go in for the double mastectomy.

Yes, I have to wait another 18 days for that too! 

But...

No more bras!!!! 

I decided that I am definitely not interested in having the reconstruction done as the statistics for additional surgeries/failure are really high. Instead, I have a beloved friend who has agreed to design a chest tattoo for me. 

I am so excited and can't wait to see what she creates!!! 

In the meantime, we are still waiting for the Her2 pathology. 

What is HER2?

The human epidermal growth factor receptor 2 (HER2) gene is responsible for producing HER2 proteins. HER2 proteins are present on the surface of some breast cancer cells. When they’re activated, they signal breast cancer cells to divide and multiply. 

Normally, HER2 proteins regulate and control the growth of breast cells. But when the HER2 gene is mutated, which is the case in about 1 in every 5 cases of breast cancer, it makes too many HER2 proteins. This results in breast cells growing and dividing out of control.

So you can see why this is important pathology! 

I had a bone scan that showed a weird thing with my spine that the radiologist says is most likely degeneration but it also is in the area where I had a spinal fusion in 1990. I will have to have a CT scan to double check and rule out anything else. 

Next week I meet with a genetic counselor but I'm not entirely sure why and I will also see my surgeon again to go over the tests and discuss surgery. Hopefully, we'll have the Her2 back. 

With the surgery date set, I have begun to prep. 

My employees (greatest people on the face of the earth BTW) are  ready to jump in and do whatever is necessary. My business partner has been training extra people to cover shifts in our store and I have added a ton of people to the pick-up list at the kids’ school. 

After surgery it will be a minimum of two weeks before I can really do anything so another friend and pink ribbon sister has set up a Take Them A Meal link for people to help out. This is the link if you would like to sign up. https://takethemameal.com/FYPS6898  

Countless numbers of people have offered assistance for things from folding our laundry (you are saints) to transporting the boys to their activities. Even my hubby’s employer told him to take whatever time he needs. 

No matter what, this is a crappy situation but the outpouring of love and support has blessed us with peace of mind and we couldn’t ask for more!  

Until next time ladies...

Check your Tits!

As you most likely know by now I was diagnosed with Invasive or Infiltrating Duct Carcinoma two weeks ago. I am now stuck in the hell hole called waiting.

I see the plastic surgeon on Wednesday 4/21, Bone Scan is 4/26 and Breast MRI is 4/28.

Hurry up and wait. Right?

I am a stage one but have a grade two cancer. Meaning...right now it's contained within my breast but is growing moderately fast.

Knowing that the cancer is continuing to grow while I wait to see doctors and get tests done is easily the most stress inducing thing I've endured.

I know that feeling this way is normal, but it doesn't make it any easier.

I was discussing my cancer/prognosis with a friend and told her that I'd posted the news on Facebook and she replied, "Really? Why would you do that?"

Why? Because I have friends all over this country and just couldn't possibly call everyone.

Why? Because this is some serious shit. While the cancer is stage one and was caught early it is a moderately fast growing carcinoma that if undetected could easily have been worse. People need to be educated and most people don't think it will get them until it hits someone they know.

Why? Because nothing, absolutely nothing good grows in the dark. I'm not a secretive person unless I have to be. I meet obstacles head on and don't waste time on BS.

Why? Because I'm going to need help at some point and if people know what is going on they will be more likely to help when asked. I also know that I can get stuck in my own head and asked for people to keep the pity low and humor high. It will help me deal on the bad days.

Why? Because, despite all that is wrong with Facebook it is an excellent forum to educate. Another friend said recently, "For some reason God needs you to educate the rest of us on boobs." I will gladly carry the torch of education especially if it helps save others. If you haven't done it yet, make the mammogram appointment. You HAVE to have a baseline so the doctors know what's there and if something changes. Do mammograms hurt? Hell yes! But it's temporary.

Why? Because DNA. Yeah this crap runs in my family. There is no amount of good eating or exercise that would prevent this. Know your family history. If you're not sure, ask!

Why? Because there is no morality involved in have breast cancer or any cancer for that matter. Boobs, ta tas, tits, breasts, jugs, knockers...whatever you call them are just part of our anatomy. They are nothing to be ashamed of and we need to be in touch with our own bodies so we know when something isn't right. Ladies, check your tits! This shit is real, sneaky, invasive and not something that can be ignored. Oh and the cancer can grow where you can't feel it so get the damn mommogram already.

Why? Because I care. A friend was diagnosed with breast cancer a couple of years ago. She is fine but only because it was caught early. I was inspired by her to get my mammogram done as I'd been putting it off. As a result, they had a great baseline and when I went in three weeks ago they knew right away that something was wrong. Had this been my first time the wheels may have turned more slowly or I may have not taken it seriously at all. If sharing my experience saves others than my job was done.

Do I have a tough road ahead? Well, yeah I do but I have an amazingly supportive hubby, fantastic kids, a wonderful family, incredible staff, fabulous business partner and the greatest friends a girl could hope for. Last but certainly not least I have a loving God who has put all these people in my life to help lift me up and carry me when it gets tough. 

I am not alone and right now that is the best gift!

It will get tough, but we will get through this with love and laughter.

Oh...and don't forget the laundry...always laundry.

Traditions

If you have kids you know that that first year can be a little fuzzy.

With twins well, all I can say is I'm really glad I took a plethora of pictures. I barely remember any of it!

After the boys were born our first outing without them was to buy our Christmas tree. My mom came to the house while we ran to the local hardware store and purchased our tree from a Boy Scout Pack.

I think we were out of the house a total of 45 minutes.

My mom laughed at us when we returned.

The next year we went to a local tree farm with the boys in their double jogging stroller. It was a little hilly and tough to navigate but the large wheels on the stroller made it easier.

We were out of there very quickly. It was nice but not very memorable.

The following year we found Spruce Grove Tree Farm.

There was a tractor with trailer and hay bales in it that took us to and from the areas where the trees were ready.

There was an old fashioned sleigh for pictures, hot chocolate in the office and wreaths for sale in the barn.

Frank, the owner, is one of the nicest guys I've ever met. He was so excited to have the kids there and made us feel like family.

We didn't just show up, cut down a tree and go home.

We had an experience.

We've returned to Spruce Grove every year since and it just gets better and better.

This year the kids even got to try using the saw. It was so exciting for them to actually take part in cutting down the tree!

Daniel even yelled, "TIMBER!"

Well he got to about "Ti.." when it was down but it was exciting none-the-less.

I don't remember when, but years ago Frank added a fire pit and free marshmallows for toasting.

In fact, every year get's better and better. This year he added a small scale model train that the kids could ride, a huge tree swing as well as food for sale along with the usual popcorn and hot chocolate.

The sleigh has been moved to a place of prominence. The barn now has one of each species of evergreen available for sale and an employee reviews the trees with the customers so you know which field to go to. Wreaths are now in a temporary outbuilding along with other seasonal decor for sale.

Santa, with a real beard, was there for pictures and it didn't cost a dime!

Three years ago our nephew and his new wife came to go tree hunting with us. They didn't know that they were going to buy one but decided that they had to have the perfect tree for their first Christmas as Mr. & Mrs.

They have been coming back every year since.

As we were sitting around the fire pit today, my niece sighed. I looked at her and asked if she was ok and she said, "This is just such a cool place."

I agree.

We were there for two hours.

What was an experience is now a tradition.

We all have traditions. Some are carried out with enthusiasm others with eye-rolls.

I love traditions. Not just "that's the way we've always done it" stuff that comes with requisite eye-rolling but true traditions.

On Christmas morning we open stockings (ours are wrapped) then have breakfast before opening the presents. It keeps the day from rushing into a blur of torn wrapping paper. As a kid, I didn't like waiting to open my gifts.

As an adult, I love it.

Maybe it's because I'm getting older and know that time is fleeting.

I want to enjoy time with family, play games, go to aquariums, shows, movies, etc. and talk about how much fun we had.

Honestly, I just want to slow down.

There was a time in my life where stuff was my driving force. I thought that's what we were supposed to do.

Now I care about quality not quantity.

I don't want stuff that needs regular dusting, I want memories like the ones we made today.

We agreed we need to do this every year... forever.

It's a tradition.

It's Here

Holy moly has it really been two years since I've written a post! 

Life seems to have taken on a frantic pace lately. 

The kids are now in first grade, my business is insane, hubby travels a crazy amount of time and life seems to be passing in a blur. It's not just days that fly by but months and years. 

And now it's here. 
The day I dread all year long. 

Nine years ago today my father took his final breath and his soul departed this earth. It happened at 5:12 am with me by his side.

Every year as we approach the date I get more and more depressed. No amount of anti-depressants, working out or light therapy can help me. I just have to get through it.

I stay busy, the Quaker in dad would be proud, but I am still sad.

And, I always miss him.

People love to throw out platitudes like, "He's always with you."

Yup.

So is his loss and the memory of what is referred to as the "death rattle" every time he took a breath in his last few hours.

It's a sound that I will never forget. 

I do try to concentrate on the good. I love to talk about him, tell stories about him all the time and now I find myself sounding just like him. 

"Money doesn't grow on trees. It costs money to keep the lights on!" 

Pretty sure it's the phrase I heard the most growing up and now I sound like him. 

As our boys get older, my dad makes more and more sense.

You were right dad. 

Especially about the light switches.

Bucket List

Earlier this year I set a "bucket list" goal for myself of completing a triathlon.

To help hold my feet to the fire, I posted it on Facebook!

Logo from the River Valley Athletic Club

I was immediately hit with a variety of comments from "good for you" to seasoned Ironman competitors offering advice.

I reached out so some of the people that I knew were most accomplished and listened intently to what they had to say.

The most important message was not to get caught up in the stuff! I didn't need one of everything "tri" to get started.

All I really needed was a two-piece tri suit and sports bra, a bike, helmet and running shoes with lock laces and the "best $10 I'd ever spend" race belt. Thanks to Amazon, I was able to gear up for approximately $100.

A two-piece tri suit is basically shorts, that are similar to bike shorts with a little padding to protect the girl bits, and a top. The top is a little tight to prevent chaffing, the sports bra (without padding) was necessary to hold the girls in place.

The helmet was required. Get on the bike before buckling the helmet and it's an automatic DQ! Running shoes are pretty self-explanatory and lock laces are elastic laces that you adjust once and then leave alone. They allow the runner to slip their foot into the shoe without have to tie a bow and they don't come untied.

The race belt is the schizz! Without the belt the competitor has to pin on their race number. One doesn't swim with their number on so when they get to the transition area they have to put on a shirt that has four little tiny safety pins on it and hope that none of the pins pops open in the process. The belt I chose is elastic, has a buckle and takes about 2 seconds to clip on. Definitely a worthy expenditure.

The first triathlon I did was at Lum's Pond in Bear, DE. Lum's Pond might be one of the dirtiest bodies of water I've ever been in.

Seriously.

Imagine a large puddle filled with goose poop and yeah, that's Lum's.

Having done no open water swim prior to the race I ended up on my back multiple times and did breast stroke more times than I can count. I've never been so happy to touch the bottom in my life! This is a big deal since I have a fear of my feet touch the bottom when I can't see through the water.

The bike on that course was only 10 miles and was pretty flat. But, I still huffed and puffed like the wolf in the Three Little Pigs!

My "Why the heck did I think
this would be fun?" face.

The "run" was terrible. I've never liked running. I'm not good at it and I always feel like I'm going to keel over. I couldn't get my legs to get going. I'd walk and then jog and then walk and then jog.

Making matters worse, I also battle exercise induced asthma and guess what kicked in on the run?

Yep!

I'd been having to use my inhaler during every workout so I was prepared with it tucked into the pocket in the back of my shorts.

All the difficulty aside I finished the race, was not last in my age group and substantially beat my practice time!

To say that I was hooked was an understatement.

The first two races I did on a borrowed hybrid bike with road tires on it. It was lots of work to get up hill on a bike that was not designed for racing!

But guess what? That second race I placed third in my age group and made the podium!

Not me :)

Through a multitude of online sales websites I found a used road bike in great condition at a price that I could afford. I named him Antonio.

Because, who wouldn't want to ride Antonio all the time? Ha!

This winter I plan to have him tuned up and new handlebar tape put on.

My most recent acquisition is a set of clip on aero bars. These bars allow a rider to be in a more aerodynamic position and it's more comfortable.

There are lots of different triathlon distances. Don't ask me what they are. I do Sprints.  A sprint is basically a "half triathlon." There is nothing about this that feels  like "half" of anything to me.

The swim is generally 750 meters, and the bike distance has varied from 10 to 15 miles. The run has pretty much been a 5k or 3.1 miles.

I don't run...yet. I'm more of a jogger.

I'm working on it but I'm just not there yet. The fastest I've been able to go is 10:16 a mile and that was on a treadmill. By the spring I want to be below a 10 minute mile.

My run today was not my best.

After the EMTs cleaned me up.

At my previous triathlon I caught my foot on a rock getting out of the water, smashed my big toe and second toe so badly that I lost most of the big toenail and my running has been limited because it freaking hurts! Anytime I ran it would take me days to recover from the pain. As a result I was not able to train the way I had planned.

Now that my season is over I can just swim and bike and let my toes heal.

I am really loving this sport and the people that I've met.

From the seasoned athletes to the novice who barely knows how to swim everyone is willing to jump in and lend a hand.

All one has to do is ask.

A month ago I posted on a triathlon page that I needed a wetsuit for the race today and a woman I have never met offered to let me borrow hers. She actually owns three and allowed me to borrow all of them to see which one fit the best.

Having never put on a wetsuit before I opened You Tube to see how to do this. After watching about three videos I decided that I would give it a shot and headed up to the bedroom with the three wetsuits in tow.

I did it wrong.

I managed to get about a 1/3 of the way into it, got stuck while sitting on the floor. It was on enough that I couldn't get up and was flopping around on the bedroom floor like a dying seal on the beach.

I was stuck.

I started to giggle.

The giggling turned to hysterical laughter.

Hubby hollered upstairs to see if I was ok.

I replied, "No" which brought him up to the bedroom.

Standing in the doorway he asked me what I was doing. Between giggles I told him that I was trying to try on the wetsuit. He replied, "That's not how you do it."

I hadn't noticed.

He let me flop around for a moment (I would have done the same) before rescuing me and helped me into and out of all three suits. I can get that sucker on in record time now!

I'll be returning the wetsuits this week and going back to just doing laps in the pool at the health club.

Yeah, so now I need a wetsuit.

I have just finished my fourth, and final triathlon, for the season.

So much for just being a "bucket list" item, huh?

I finished fourth out of a class of nine. Totally rocked the swim! My time on the swim was 14:28 which put me at 2 for my age group. Bested my bike time by 40 seconds a mile and,  despite the pain in my foot, finished the run at 12 minutes a mile.

I am days away from turning 51, am the mom of twin four-year-olds and, like lots of busy moms had let myself go since the kids were born. When I started this I couldn't run a mile, had to stop and catch my breath after two laps in the pool and it took more than an hour to ride 10 miles...in the spin spinroom. My breathing was completely out of control and I was over-weight.

I am not a young mom with lots of time to raise children. Who knows how long I'll be around. All I know is that I'm giving it my best shot while trying to set a good example for my kids. Hopefully, a couple of years from now the boys will be able to join me on the course!

Until then, I'm going to keep "tri-ing!"

After my third triathlon. I finished the race and then asked the EMTs
to clean out my cuts so they wouldn't get infected. 

Whirlwind

Life is flying by in a blur.

I had no idea that having children would make the hands on a clock spin like my ceiling fan on high!

There is always too much laundry, never enough hours in the day and as soon as I finish making one meal it's time to start prepping for another.

Most of the time I don't really mind. Honestly, I'm pretty much a procrastinator when it comes to cleaning the house so if time runs out and I haven't had a chance to dust the funiture or scrub the toilets I'm not overly concerned.

The laundry however is my nemesis.

Seriously...Does the crap breed in the dark on the floor in the basement?

Even with the best intentions, I can never seem to get it washed dried and folded fast enough and most times it makes it as far as the "laundry chair" in the family room. David's clothes are on the left arm, Daniel's clothes are on the right arm, their dad and I share the top of the back of the chair and pajamas and underwear are on the end table.

This has been the way I've done it since the kids were born.

Why screw with a good thing, right?

If you are here visiting and the chair is cleaned off it just means that I was expecting you.

My previous babysitter stopped over with her mom one afternoon and, noticing that the "laundry chair" was indeed living up to it's name, stated that she'd never see the chair without clothes on it.

Her mother gasped...I laughed.

It was true!

There are things in life that are more important than whether or not the laundry is put away.

Homeschooling my kids this year would be one of them.

If I could afford it, the kids would be in preschool. Unfortunately, I can't, so they aren't.

After doing some research, which thanks to Google is crazy easy, I decided that homeschooling for preschool won't be terribly hard so I'm trying.

David's Solar System

David is totally into it. He loves learning. He is my type "A"  kid who loves to figure stuff out and will choose to watch educational shows on his Kindle Junior. He knows names of dinosaurs that I can neither pronounce nor even knew about when I was a kid and recently grasped the concept that the sun is the center of the Solar System.

X is for x-ray

Daniel on the other hand loves to sound out the letters to make words but hates to do his writing exercises so much that he discovered that writing Dan is faster than Daniel so all of his stuff has Dan on it now. 

"Dan" isn't the best at following directions and tends to be a "color wherever the heck he wants to rather than inside the lines" kind of kid. However, he loves numbers and is going to be an amazing mathematician.

Well, as soon as he figures out that "eleventeen" is not actually a number. 

Our days are crazy, stressful, happy, frustrating and in general just a bit of a whirlwind. My house is not spotless, but my kids are happy and smart.

There will be plenty of time when the kids are older, and don't want anything to do with me, to clean the house.

These years will be over before I know it and life will take on a different level of crazy. Being present with my kids is so much more important than whether or not the toilets are clean.

Besides, I can dust tomorrow!

Don't Make Me Turn This Car Around!

I did it!!

I ran my first 5K!

I finished with a time of 38:47 and sixth overall in my division...the 50-59 females!

Ugh! I still can't believe that I am 50 years old.

Not really sure how I got here or how I survived passed my early 20's.

I was so stupid, headstrong, and willful. I knew everything and you couldn't tell me a thing.

In short, I  was pretty much a jerk.

Then I stopped drinking became well, a sober, stupid, headstrong, willful, know-it-all!

It's taken many years of trials and tribulations and failures to get to where I am today.

I am smarter but still headstrong although much less stubborn and I know that I don't know much but I can learn anything as long as I am willing to admit what I don't know.

Most importantly, I am a mom.

I am a mom of twin four-year-old boys who are learning to be independent, but can be headstrong, defiant and willful.

Just like...well, me.

Yup!

In fact, the twins turned four today.

The boys' T-Rex birthday cake

Where did four years go?

I find myself asking that question each year as time flies by in what appears to be a blur.

Another mom reminded me of a great expression yesterday, "The days are long but the years are short."

How true it is.

Yesterday wasn't just long, it was hellaciously long.

The kids were whiny and cranky all day. I'm reasonably sure it was the stupid time change from daylight savings.

David was the worst. We endured a 20 minute fit over my putting his sippy cup in the diaper bag,  something I've been doing for four years (I use it for sippy cups and food now). Evidently, he wanted to carry it. So I took it out of said bag and put it on the counter so that he could carry it and the tantrum got worse because he wanted to take it out of the bag, something he's never done.

It was hell.

No amount of distraction tactics would work to calm him or divert his attention to something else. He was just determined to scream.

I managed to get him in the car but then actually had to turn around and go back to the house and sit in the driveway with the threat of shutting off the car and going inside to get him to stop.

I was fully prepared to do this but I didn't really want to.

They are learning that mommy doesn't make empty threats. But that doesn't stop them from pushing the limits!

I follow through. It's tough and really, really difficult at times, but I feel it's important for teaching them where the boundaries are, how to follow instructions and to play by the rules!

It doesn't mean that they are not headstrong or defiant at times, yesterday being one of them, but they are learning when to push and when not to.

Sometimes my refusals are based on my fears not their abilities. It's tough to remember that when I'm frustrated.

The boys making silly faces

I'm hoping that their headstrong, defiant behaviors will make them successful and unwilling to quit when life gets rough.

They try so hard to be independent but still need me to zip their jackets, tie their shoes and wipe their butts.

Independence will come but it will take time.

They are only four and I am not in a rush for them to grow up.

Although having them wipe their own butts would be nice.

I love being a mom. The boys complete me in ways I never knew I was deficient. I had to become a mom to truly understand my shortcomings and know love.

Don't Make Me Turn This Car Around!

I did it!!

I ran my first 5K!

I finished with a time of 38:47 and sixth overall in my division...the 50-59 females!

Ugh! I still can't believe that I am 50 years old.

Not really sure how I got here or how I survived passed my early 20's.

I was so stupid, headstrong, and willful. I knew everything and you couldn't tell me a thing.

In short, I  was pretty much a jerk.

Then I stopped drinking became well, a sober, stupid, headstrong, willful, know-it-all!

It's taken many years of trials and tribulations and failures to get to where I am today.

I am smarter but still headstrong although much less stubborn and I know that I don't know much but I can learn anything as long as I am willing to admit what I don't know.

Most importantly, I am a mom.

I am a mom of twin four-year-old boys who are learning to be independent, but can be headstrong, defiant and willful.

Just like...well, me.

Yup!

In fact, the twins turned four today.

The boys' T-Rex birthday cake

Where did four years go?

I find myself asking that question each year as time flies by in what appears to be a blur.

Another mom reminded me of a great expression yesterday, "The days are long but the years are short."

How true it is.

Yesterday wasn't just long, it was hellaciously long.

The kids were whiny and cranky all day. I'm reasonably sure it was the stupid time change from daylight savings.

David was the worst. We endured a 20 minute fit over my putting his sippy cup in the diaper bag,  something I've been doing for four years (I use it for sippy cups and food now). Evidently, he wanted to carry it. So I took it out of said bag and put it on the counter so that he could carry it and the tantrum got worse because he wanted to take it out of the bag, something he's never done.

It was hell.

No amount of distraction tactics would work to calm him or divert his attention to something else. He was just determined to scream.

I managed to get him in the car but then actually had to turn around and go back to the house and sit in the driveway with the threat of shutting off the car and going inside to get him to stop.

I was fully prepared to do this but I didn't really want to.

They are learning that mommy doesn't make empty threats. But that doesn't stop them from pushing the limits!

I follow through. It's tough and really, really difficult at times, but I feel it's important for teaching them where the boundaries are, how to follow instructions and to play by the rules!

It doesn't mean that they are not headstrong or defiant at times, yesterday being one of them, but they are learning when to push and when not to.

Sometimes my refusals are based on my fears not their abilities. It's tough to remember that when I'm frustrated.

The boys making silly faces

I'm hoping that their headstrong, defiant behaviors will make them successful and unwilling to quit when life gets rough.

They try so hard to be independent but still need me to zip their jackets, tie their shoes and wipe their butts.

Independence will come but it will take time.

They are only four and I am not in a rush for them to grow up.

Although having them wipe their own butts would be nice.

I love being a mom. The boys complete me in ways I never knew I was deficient. I had to become a mom to truly understand my shortcomings and know love.

God's Plan

It was sophomore year in high school I distinctly recall going into the girls bathroom down the hall from the cafeteria with my best friend and having her explain to make myself throw up and get rid of all of the (high calorie/fattening) pasta that I'd consumed at the annual high school spaghetti supper fundraising dinner.

And so began a lifetime battle against the insidious eating disorder: Bulimia.

I spent all of my teenage and most of my adult years obsessing about my weight and torturing myself.

I stopped growing at the towering height of 5'3 & 3/4" and am fairly big boned for someone of my height. According the evil height and weight chart at 157 lbs I am roughly 27 lbs overweight.

Yeah, well, that chart has had me puking my guts up for years.

Not everyone is built the same.

I am not tall, lanky, skinny, slender. I do not have a tiny frame. I am big boned and years of athletics has given me a fantastic muscle base.

I have dieted, exercised, starved myself and body shamed myself for years because designers, the media, mean girls in high school and society in general have lead me to believe that a size 8 or (gasp) a 10 is much too large and that if I am not a size 2 or less then I am not worthy...of anything.

Guess what? They were wrong.

And so was I.

Jeremiah 1:5 says, ""Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart; I appointed you as a prophet to the nations."

God created me and loves me as I am. 

Why then, do I pressure myself to be something other than what I was meant to be? 

Because I have been pressured by "societal norms" for so long that I have allowed them to dictate my worth.  And most importantly, because I did not have the faith to trust in God's plan. 

I could be a size 4 or 6 if I wanted to starve myself and live on protein bars but, quite honestly, I love food too much. 

I have needlessly battled the same 15 pounds for the past two years. I can take it off but it slowly creeps back on until I get to where I am now. 

So here I am.

At 157 lbs I can eat whatever I want and my blood pressure is 112/72. 

I go to the gym a couple of times a week, run around with my twin three-year-old boys and can garden all day without feeling as if I am going to keel over. 

My body is where it wants to be. 

I'm done torturing the beautiful creature that the Lord saw fit to bring into this world. I will no longer treat myself as a lesser person because my weight doesn't fall into the right block on that stupid chart. My worth is no longer going to be dictated by a number on the inside of my jeans or the number on the scale.

God loves me, my husband loves me and my children love me. 

I am choosing to trust God.

The body shaming ends now! 

What The Hell...

The other day David walked up to Daniel, lifted his shirt and licked his back. Daniel screamed and then yelled, "Mommy David slimed me." In a moment of infinite parental wisdom I yelled, "David, keep your tongue to yourself!"

Yeah...sometimes I feel like my life is one big carousel of stupid parenting moments which, from what I've been told, is normal.

I like feeling normal...whatever normal is.

Really what I like feeing is that I am not alone.

Knowing that what I thought was one of the worst "parent fail" moments of the decade isn't really that bad or is nothing new to any other parent makes me feel so much better!

There are tons of parenting books out there but I'm not sure how many deal with sibling lickings.

I try so hard to be a good and righteous mom but there are days that I fail miserably.

The biggest issue I have, and always have had, is my mouth!

Recently Daniel was standing in front of the TV with a toy car poised to roll across the screen. From across the room I yelled, "No!" Followed by, "Daniel put the car down."

He started to lower his arm but raised it back up and held it in front of the screen and I hollered, "Don't you dare."

With that he "vroomed" the car across the flat screen as I screamed, "Nooooo!"

Before I could move David looked at me and said, "That's a dammit mommy."


Face palm!

Oops!

Ha ha ha ha ha!

Parental Oxymoron: Not funny yet hysterical at the same time.

I laughed. Oh relax, I know better but seriously who wouldn't laugh at that one!

A few days after the "Dammit" Daniel walked up to me looked at something that was next to me on the sofa and asked, "What the hell is that?"

Um...

Yeah...all me!

On the grand scale of things this is not the worst. Neither of the kids are running around dropping F-bombs in public but it is a great reminder that these two little people will learn what I teach them and the biggest lessons come from my actions.

I pray on a regular basis to keep myself under control and be a better example.

I'm working on it I really am but dammit it's tough!

Oops!