I always sort of wondered why people post this kind of thing on their blogs. I totally get it now; this is quite an accomplishment for all parties involved. The little man is finally potty trained. It was actually, dare I say, easy. Maybe because he is old enough to completely understand everything I tell him. He got it down in less than a day. What a champ. I am proud of the little guy, and he is so excited.
Look at those muscly legs!
And the other little boy is already 5 months old. What the heck?!?!?!? I'm obsessed with him---no surprise.
I love, love, love to run. I am not sure why exactly. Okay, that is not true; I totally know why. I love the smell of fresh air, I love the things I see and hear, I love the endorphins that make me so happy, I love the feeling of conquering a big hill or extra long run, I love stretching when I'm done, I love a nice shower to wash all the sweat away, I love competition (with myself, and let's be honest, everyone else), and I love all of the memories I have associated with it. Oh man, I love to run.
I am a total "has-been" when it comes to running. I used to be not too shabby at it. It was sort of my identity for a lot of years. It was fun to have a natural ability at something. I loved every single part of my years as a cross-country runner and trackster. I loved waking up when it was still dark, putting on my uniform, grabbing my blanket and heading to the bus, to embark on a long road to another meet. I loved sitting around watching other races, obsessing over the time clock, and getting psyched for my next event. I loved picking that other runner on the track, knowing I would beat her, no matter what. (So I was a little cocky...or overly-competitive; the track was my turf.)
Sadly, my last cross-country race was one of my worst, and I cried the whole way back home (7 hours on the bus). Twice, our record-breaking 4X800 team came in 2nd at State, literally hundredths of a second behind the first place team. I mourned those tragedies in my life. (This is getting so sad, right?) I ran a bit in college, but it was nowhere near the same. I got sick my freshman year and had to quit. Such is life, so sad and unfair. I literally felt like my identity was stolen, like I didn't really exist anymore.
Okay, so maybe I am being a bit over-dramatic, but seriously, you get my gist. I was a little obsessed. I was teased for exclaiming, "Oh I just love this!", or "isn't this so fun?!?!", "I could go all day". etc., etc., on long runs with my friends. I loved running at night, in the rain, through the trees, up the trails, all over town.
Running sort of came to an abrupt halt after our accident. My poor little ankle (and it really is teeny), just couldn't do it. It didn't work right, bend right, and was sore all the time. It still gives me fits every now and then, but I am so ready to run again. I know I will never be awesome at it, but it just makes me so happy. So, I did something a little daring and quite a bit crazy....
Yep, I am not sure what I was thinking, but I am actually really excited about it. I have a few friends doing it too, and I told them just to wait for me at the end to make sure I finish and don't get stuck up the canyon somewhere. I am not going for time, really. That might be hard because I am just too dang competitive. I want to run it to run it. I want to run it to say I accomplished something hard, and something I wasn't sure I would do again.
I am having fun attempting to get into some sort of shape. Our hilly subdivision is kicking my butt--especially pushing a stroller with 2 kids in it. Today, I ran 4 miles on the treadmill....the TREADMILL people! Seriously, who runs on that thing? It bores me to tears. Thankfully, I had a friend running next to me and we chatted the whole time. I am hoping the icy roads melt soon so I can get back outside again. So, here I am, the gimpy has-been, hitting the pavement again, and wow, it feels SO good.
We've been having such a great time with our new friends, Ace and Lacy. Lacy and I go to the gym almost everyday, we get together for movies, tv shows, dinner, and whatever else we can find an excuse for. We all get along so well; it's a natural friendship. I am always leery of getting too close to new people, because I have had bad luck with friends moving away. Ace just got a job here, they are buying a house, so it looks like they are here to stay. Matt and Ace are two peas in a pod, and I have known Lacy for a long time, so we all have a blast.
Saturday, we escaped the confines of our house and went to the pool. There was a little boy Kaden's age and they were so cute together. Three is a tricky age, but so much fun. Kaden loves the water. He isn't quite as brave as he used to be, but is still quite a little fishy. I have so much fun taking him. Beckham just lounged in my arms and the tube. It was his first time and he seemed to enjoy it quite a bit. This little baby loves his bath and relaxes the second he hits the water. After our splashing around we warmed up in the hot tub. I just had Beckham's legs in and he fell fast asleep. The outing was just the right cure for our cabin fever.
The snow is certainly piling up around here. I've got to say how grateful I am for the new handy snowblower we got. A man from church gave it to us for a steal, and an anonymous person contributed just the right amount and we didn't pay a cent. People are so good. I am figuring it out and it sure saves me a lot of time. It's been windy and the snow blows all over me and gets me soaked (hence the slicked down look I have going on). But, I say we have the prettiest driveway around. We've probably gotten about 3 ft. in the last three days. My poor parents are completely burried up at their house, but they know how to roll up there. I am happy to have the snow. It is beautiful and makes everything that much prettier in the Spring. For now, we are just enjoying a lazy day of books, movies, cookies, and naps. I can't complain for an excuse to snuggle up and be lazy.
Oh, how I love these girls. We haven't been together, the three of us, in a long time. I am so happy when my friends are around. What does one do without them? I would be lost, that's for sure. We had such a fun night, catching up, being silly, and laughing until tears came. Becky's husband was just snapping pictures right and left,and I love the candidness of them all. I am such a happy, and lucky girl.
Update: Despite what it looks like, my dear Andrea is not engaged. Trust me, when that happens we will have a party, and the whole world will know about it!
I love watching his excitement as he uses his imagination and creativity. He loves to color, draw, play with playdoh, and paint. It's so important for a child to explore and create. Sometimes he doesn't quite get the point that we "only color on paper". I have found crayon on the side of our house, walls, his shoes, the floor, and various other "no, no" places. He is quick to tell someone else the rules, and when he's caught he says he is sorry he was naughty. It's a little more exciting to take liberty with whatever canvas is appealing.
Art with Kaden is so fun for me. It takes me back to when I was little. My mom always had a fun project for us. I still love the smell of crayons and paint, or a fresh tub of playdoh. I love bright colors and textures. I feel like a kid again and the wheels in my brain are turning as I am thinking up the best little art space for the boys. I am getting excited.
Anyone that knows me, knows I am a lover of sunshine. I can't go without it. We get the most warm, beautiful beams through our kitchen door. I often find myself lingering in the rays as they invite themselves into our home. I had a special moment with my baby today, amid those warm rays.
It's been a bit of a roller-coaster these last few months. I have had some of my happiest moments, and some of my most discouraging ones. Matt has had a difficult time lately, but things seem to be getting much better. This afternoon, I sat in the sunshine, listening to uplifting music, reading inspiring words, and reflecting on my blessings. The little one woke up wanting my love. I picked him up and cuddled him in that warm place by the kitchen door. I marveled at his perfection, soaked up his wonderful smell, and thanked my father in Heaven for such a perfect, healthy, happy baby. I kissed on his cheeks, and couldn't help but smile as I rubbed his chubby bare legs.
No matter how tough an individual day or moment is, there is always something to testify of God's love, of the little gifts and blessings of each day. Whether it be a chubby baby leg, a warm ray of sunshine, or a sweet husband so willing to serve his family, moments of joy and the footprints of blessings are surrounding every sorrow we ever feel. I am grateful.
I just copied this from Traci's blog (Matt's mom). I teared up when she told me this story. Sort of makes us stop and think about what really is important. I love my sweet, sweet Matt.
I was feeling blue. I drove 7 hours to Colorado on Tuesday in bad weather, going 35 mph for several hours of it because the roads were so bad. After I turned onto Matt's unlit road, which was snow packed (over ice), my car started to slide and would not make the turn. I slowed to 10 mph, but hit the guard rail and smashed the front end of the car. When I got out of the car I nearly skated because the road was pure ice with 1/2 inch of snow on top. A goodly neighbor pulled me out and towed me back near Matt’s house. It snowed all night. The next morning Jessica went to exercise, and I got Matt's lunch ready and watched him walk out the door to the bus stop. The bus makes a special stop for him, but he has to walk down his road and then cross about 20 feet of mud and snow and over a cattle guard to get to the road where the bus will stop for him. Three weeks ago he fell through the cattle guard and was stuck for 45 minutes until someone saw him and brought him back home. Jessica had looked out the window and thought he’d been picked up. The bus driver didn’t see him, so she drove on by. I decided to follow for a few minutes after he left, just to make sure he had mad it OK with the new snowfall (once a Mom, always a Mom). At the base of the street I noticed that my lights on the wrecked car were blinking, so I went back for my keys, feeling really mad at that dumb car. When I got back to it I saw what had set the lights flashing... Matt had written "I love you Mom" in the snow on the window. Suddenly I remembered that my life was good and that wrecked cars can be fixed. Matt's life is harder, but he has a good attitude. Lesson learned.
Matt never complains about going to work although he stands all day and his foot aches from his brace. He is glad that he can make the house and utility payments on his own. He works five days a week including Saturday as a door greeter at Walmart and doesn't brood over his former career path in computers. When he gets home he pitches in with the kids and always does the dishes. Sometimes his lack of memory is beyond frustrating - for others, but especially for him, but he maintains a good attitude. His spirit is as tall as his body, and his mom looks up to him!
This cute face pretty much says it all. We had a wonderful Christmas--the first in our house. Everyone came down to celebrate with us. I deeply missed my Papa and Nonie, as they were a fixture every Christmas, but other than that, it was perfect. Our special traditions make me so happy. Seeing Kaden get excited made me more excited. Beckham smiled and was happy all day; it was like he knew that is was a special day. I love that our celebration and present-opening goes well into the afternoon. We take our time, we take turns and watch each other open gifts. I can't imagine not doing that. One of my favorite things is seeing the surprise, excitement, and gratitude of someone receiving something special. I hate this picture, but it's the only one we got together. It was so cozy cuddled up right there with my mister.
These two pictures make me laugh. Michaela gets away with anything with Dad. She teases him and gets him to go along with things none of us ever could. This look on his face is classic--it's just him.
My very favorite tradition. A special, clever poem on nearly every package. It started with my great grandma. The very first poem, "something pink and tiny to cover your heiny." We have taken this to a whole new level. Some are short and sweet, some epic sonnets. Some serious, some sentimental, and some downright hilarious. I save all of my poems every year. Someday I will put them into a book.
It was a beautiful day. I am always sad to see the Christmas decorations go down, and to bid farewell to the season, but there is also something so refreshing about a new year. I am looking forward to a new, better year.