Basketball, bling, and birthdays

  The season starts again. That's right folks basket ball! Actually, in my mind right now its,'uuhhh my aching legs..basketball.' I am playing at assistant coach again this year. That means nightly crock pot meals the kids make faces at, late bedtimes, and very very exhausted me.  It also means my writing time is pruned down to the necessary, aka the kind that makes money. This week I am sending off some devotions to Focus on the Family because its nice to get paid for words. Truth be told, after outlining an entire book, I got the urge to print the file out just so I could burn it. I cant stand looking at my work for more than a month. Now you know why I give away 90% if my knitting projects.
  Greg's grandmother gifted me the most amazing sapphire ring for my birthday. Its gorgeous, beautiful, and more than I could have ever imagined from someone not even related to me. Pictures to follow when the kids stop robbing the camera of all the double A batteries.
  Today was Greg's birthday. 33 no 34. I get it wrong every year. At least I remembered what day it was on. We went out and looked at all the stores he likes. I even sat in a knife shop for more than an hour and talked with a couple old men while Greg browsed and chatted. It was good to spend the day doing nothing, because this morning we received the, "this is what your medical insurance company wont pay," letter. Always a downer, but even worse on your birthday!
   Life is going well here as we enjoy the sweet spot of our kids childhood basking in all the silliness before its gone for good. Hmmm that end sounds just like a Christmas letter. Perhaps next year I'll write one out, stuff the envelopes and leave them in a box in my closet.

And now I get in shape.

  Three years back, I use to get up early in the AM and do pilates. Every morning. No fail. My kids would stumble in and say, "don't you want to stop and be with me mom?" My dad (we lived with them at the time) would walk by the family room and say, "what's the point." Still I pressed on.
  When we moved back into our house three years ago, I seriously considered that question. What is the point? Here I am working out every morning for nothing. My kids want more time with me anyway. So, after eight years of consistency, I slowly tapered off. It wasn't changing me at all.
  With thoughts of, 'I'll do it tomorrow,' and 'a few months skipping wont hurt,' filled my head. Months turned into years. Perhaps, its the changing of a new year that got me thinking about it or the fact I tried to do a few sit-ups the other day and died, but all that work had accomplished something. It may have been subtle and small on a daily level, but huge over a span of time. It did in fact make a difference.
  I am not sure if I will ever be inspired to work out in the AM again. Who knows. I am going to think a lot harder about the little daily things I do and their real worth. What if I chose to tell my kids, "No. Today I'm not going to hug you. I don't feel like it."

The daily value of something could be as small as a penny, but the overall value is beyond compare.

Happy New Year 15 days late!


   

back to normal

  After two three glorious weeks away on vacation, we are home. Please accept my apology on being gone from blogging! I got distracted by chasing kids and sledding down hills. Runner sleds are even more enjoyable when your an adult because it goes so much faster! Of coarse you have to turn off the responsible part of your brain that is calculating the hospital bill totally OFF.
  We spent two weeks with Greg's family and I turned around and spent a week with my mom and dad. By the time I arrived home for good, the many nights spent on 'guest bed' mattresses had caught up with me. What's that? No, the sledding doesn't count.
  I reveled in the thought of climbing into my own bed and getting a real nights sleep. After putting the kids to bed and watching a movie by myself, (Greg is back to work) I walked onto the porch and turned the dogs out one last time. I stood there waiting for them to come in, thinking how nice it was to be back... when I heard talking. My girl must have turned on an audio book? I poked my head inside. Nope. When I stepped back outside, the talking grew louder. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a lone figure walking/talking to herself. All my time away made me forget about the meth zombies that live around here. I hurried the dogs inside, but not before she had the chance to call me baby. As I cradled my shotgun in bed, I thanked Jesus that meth zombies are loud and if they do try to break in, they might talk themselves out of it.

Welcome home!