Old Days

Now I like to make a lot of promises. I fully pledge to do ______ starting _______. I hit it with enthusiasm. And then time comes and somehow I weasle my way out with some excuse or another. This creates is wasted energy and guilt (like Moms need more of that). Here we go again, no excuses: I pledge to stop making longer to do lists and actually do something, not everything and be satisfied with "Good Enough". I pledge to run or walk without having to go for a personal record. Simplicity in a job done, who cares about how well. It's a reintroduction to the things I love playing, running, blogging, spending time with friends, and have the energy to do it without the guilt and looming presence of perfection. Bring it, life, I've missed you!

What a Day for A Daydream

Not Gazelle but Baby Maker did OK

Brothers

Pregnancy Distractions

It's the OCD. It's my last pregnancy. It's because Dave's headed to the "chop" shop next
week. There will be no more pregnancies. And somehow I'm mourning.

And, it's a busy week - I have to get my fill of all the excuses...

Lately, even the prospect of to buy or not to buy a maternity swimsuit is a little overwhelming. Looking in the mirror is a disasterous situation I wish to venture alone...but really can I have a magic looking glass that hides me from the rest of the public (my husband) of the whale I've become?

Wallowing? No!

There is a beautiful baby boy growing stong inside my belly. Someone so loved already. so anticipated. So encouraging. So ready to share the world with.

I can get over my vain desire to remain non-plus sized. In return
Can I keep all these memories of Will and Avery that remind me that life is glorious even in it's struggles?
Please, let me remember what it feels like when Avery sees me when I walk into her classroom, kids club, corner and she is screams --MaaMaa! I missed you!
-Can we go wait for the boys?
-I don't like the way he/she sings.
- No, I don't want to make a new friend.
- BuhBuh's being mean to me.
- Are you mad at me?
-I don't want to wear that one.
-Can I be a princess?
- I don't want to marry a prince. Can I marry Daddy? Will?

And Will, the prodigal son, who is always torn between pleasing you and his consuming wants and desires.
-Mom! Can I earn some stars? Sure, go outside and play with your sister, clean your room, help set the table. Oh, you've changed your mind...yeah, but can I play my PSP?
-Mom! When are we going on a date day? Grandma's and Grandpa's? Toy store? Book store? Gym? Dave and Buster's? Target?
-Mom! Your the best cooker in the world! How many bites of brussel sprouts, soy meat lasagna, spinach and cous-cous do I have to eat?
-Mom! Can I be a solider? Sure, after college. Can I play football? Sure, in college. Mom! I got a paper cut six days ago, and it still hurts.
Please, don't let me forget that when Will and Avery look into my eyes I see they're beautiful souls dancing with enthusiasm and all life's possibilities. I pray that it their spark never goes away. It might dull, it might get sidelined by little things (like homework, cleaning the bathroom, eating all your vegetables, sharing Legos with your sister, gaining weight when your pregnant, sitting on peas after your vascectomy) but it's still there ready to tackle tomorrow without bruising too bad.

Lazy Meets Her Match with Exotic Destinations

Lately, it's been difficult to peel myself away from the travel channel. Tuesday, I managed to log in more hours behind the screen than a viewing of Gone With The Wind. There is a body crevice just formed to my expanding shape.

Monday was a great start. I went to LT in my maternity workout shirt and sweated 700 calories off in one hour of Cardio Resistance Training. Avery spent the time running around the jungle gym with her friends which usually only have boy names and sliding down the slide. Then, after Dave supported the idea of cereal for dinner, we headed out to the gym
again...together. It is my favorite way to sneak in a date. He didn't go to the big boy area where we were on Saturday. I don't like to go over there during busy hours. It can be extremely crowded and I am easily annoyed at men who 1) can lift 350 lbs, but re-rack NONE 2)all the grunting, slamming, waiting, and stinkiness is too much testosterone than this chica can handle. I might love the smell of sweat, but not the residual kind. YEEECK!

Tuesday morning my new love for Yoga came and went without my attendence. I couldn't stretch out my triceps from the burning sensation and frankly I didn't wanna get going at 8:15 in the morning. Some how, after all the travelling I did through the travel channel, I flipped to FIT tv. Maybe, watching will bring inspiration...

Wednesday, the highlight and haircut take place. Marye, my hair dresser, bless her heart, has to ask the salon coordinator to "please, turn on the air" because my cuerpo/hormones renerated so much heat that she felt an electric heater had taken the place of her client and sat in the chair for 3 hours on full blast. Was I just saying something about residual stink/sweat? I'm sorry, Marye!

Today is a new day. My workout clothes are waiting dutifully for me. First, big plans to meet with the 1st grade room moms for holiday "heehaw" party planning...Avery in tow. Will's last visit to the allergist for his two a week shots. Celebration lunch...celebrating Will, Avery, and Mom time and frankly, because it's Thursday. Then I promise a trip to the gym... all in good time, right!?!

A Welcomed Physical Assault

After a labor day's Whine Race 5 miler, I signed up for the Nov. 3rd Wurstfest 5 miler. A few things have happened since, it might be from the wine. Yesterday, Dave, Avery, Will and I pull up to the race as runners rush past in blazing glory and unhurriedly, we turn around and head to the closest IHOP in New Braunfels.

Okay, it's a little secret I've kept. TK, Jana, Nanu, you know, but I've been pretty sushed about it (unless you are the cashier, pharmacist, greeter at Wally-World). For some reason it just slips, but I really wanted to be quiet until week 13 is over. Well I don't like to keep secrets...
so I'll tell you. This house is expecting another. What do I think - three is a blessing, we are so excited, I'm officially a small child wrangler for life and I'm still smiling!

It's week 9 in the little olives lifespan. He/she is taking over my senses, uterus, and 140 lbs. body. I'm going to be honest here, I really liked being below 140 and at 5'8 can gain a LOT of weight when I'm preggers. Realistically, I can't be 130 lbs, but I can avoid weighing as much as Dave when we are delivering. Can you help? I know, don't eat bad stuff, but have you ever told a pregnant woman to stay away from a buffet line? Don't go there, it won't be pleasant...

I am soley concentrating on having a healthy baby and being a good mommy/ wife/ friend/ sister/ daughter, that's all. As far as trophy winning, running races for is a sweet memory, but I'll be there again in June...okay, July, when babiest bear is here, I'm not breastfeeding, and my abdominal muscles won't fall through.

Did you hear that? I'm not breastfeeding! I know, Dave can't believe it, but I'm really not. If I say it enough, he'll believe me. It is because I'm playing the three card... three is a house full. Will and Avery both wanna feed the baby. I can't deprive them. Plus, Dave really likes to take an active role that requires sitting and cooing. Don't follow in my footsteps, but I'm out the door, sista, without my shirt up and milk leaking.

So I'll be a better blogger... I've stepped away from the coolness of the porcelein rim and actually feel alive again. I've surrender my size 6s to Size Meduim maternity clothes so I'm in comfortable place. I weigh 145 lbs this morning and I run a mean 10 minute mile. Anything else is strictly confidental...hah!