The Quarter Marathoners

Those of you who read my blog may remember my Special K Challenged post back in October when I mentioned my friend, Casey.  Although our diet did not prove extremely successful (not a lot of weight lost, but we're both in a smaller size) it did manage to drive us a little crazy for two weeks.   I think that Casey has sworn off cereal for a very very long time.  We have, however, continued something else that we started during those two weeks...running.  I had been jogging on the treadmill for the last several months, but it was getting painfully boring pretty fast.  At first we decided to get together to jog twice a week for about two miles each time.  Then, per Casey's suggestion and much to my chagrin, we upped it to three miles.  She mentioned that her friend had recently run a half marathon which is 13 miles. Being fairly confident that I was not up for anything that required that much in-shapeness (probably not a word), I suggested that maybe we could just work our way to finishing a 10 K, or 6.2 miles.   So, we diligently researched some training schedules like the one found here, and modified them a little.  We now run together Mon, Wed and Fri and train some on our own too.  Last week we made it past the four mile mark, which I felt was a huge accomplisment!
If only my highschool volleyball coach could see me now.  He was big on the running thing once telling us that you can run up to four miles during a match, which I highly suspect was a severe overexaggeration meant to inspire us.  Nonetheless we would spend the first part of practice warming up with a mile run followed by sprints or running stairs (the worst!).  Undoubtedly I was the most vocal opponent to his training techniques and could often be found walking the part of the route that couldn't be seen from his vantage point.
So, here we are...a million miles, so to speak, from where I was in highschool.  I wouldn't say that I actually enjoy the whole heart beating out of my chest, lungs burning and legs feeling like jello by the end type of running that we are doing.  But, it does give me a great sense of accomplishment when I am done.  Hopefully my deeply rooted competitive instincts will prove useful as we try to push eachother a little further every week.

Props to my friend, Casey, who is so hard core that she yakked enroute the other day and just kept running.

Thanksgiving and the Big Tree

I like to cook...no, I love to cook.  So, Thanksgiving is pretty much my favorite day of the year.  And because it is my favorite day of the year I don't like anyone to mess with it.  What I mean to say is that every fourth Thursday in November I am in charge.  Things are done my way.  I decide the menu, the guests, the time people arrive, eat and leave.  Wait a minute....this is the way Thanksgiving used to be...back before it became the day that we also get our Christmas tree.
Cutting down and putting up the tree was always our day after Thanksgiving tradition...until three years ago when my husband built a great room, decided that we needed a fourteen foot tree and that it should be put up on Turkey Day.  And yes, I said fourteen feet.   Before we built our great room Mike's biggest complaint about our house was that we had to have our Christmas tree in the kitchen.  It was the only place that would work since we had a wood stove in the living room that would have undoubtedly killed it within a week.   The tree in the kitchen got him so mad each year that I'm pretty sure that's why we have a great room now.
Well, a tree like the one we now put up requires strategy.  I suppose that is why we have to put it up on Thanksgiving.  Friends and family are in high spirits anticipating the start of the holiday season, and what could be more festive than putting up a tree?  Before they know it, they are hauling a two hundred pound tree onto a trailer, pulling it through our garage and forcing it through a tiny door that it has no business going through.  Yep, we sucker them in every year.

And that is how a Christmas tree stole my Thanksgiving.  No more Macy's parade...too many people too busy almost knocking the tv over.  No nicely cleaned carpets....they're all covered with muddy boots and pine needles.  No holiday music playing in the background....just Mike and his brother shouting directions at eachother.  At the end of the day, though, we all know at least one thing that we are thankful for.  Thank goodness we don't have to do that again for another year!

This is the first year that we brought home our big tree.  As you can see it didn't want to come through the door.

It's a definite that someone is going to end up falling on the ground while trying to pull the tree in.  The second year we put it up was Steve's turn.

Tools, Bowls, and a 300 Pound Table

As many of my close friends know, my husband has two loves in his life: hunting and his tools.   I come in a close third, which is okay with me since he's not out doing something really horrible with his time...like playing video games (that might be a deal breaker).   Although his hunting habit isn't beneficial to me at all -not being a fan of venison or of the two deer heads mounted on the walls of my house, his love affair with tools has come in handy countless times over our nine year marriage.  He is honestly able to fix everything, build anything, and if he can't -he'll go out and a buy a new tool so that he can.  Recently he has become completely obsessed with woodworking. Several months ago he discovered Craig's List and realized it was uncharted territory for tool acquisition.  He was especially excited about a lathe that he purchased second hand and got to work immediately churning out bowl after bowl...sometimes three or four a day.   Now who am I to complain about countless beautiful bowls piling up around the house, but after weeks and weeks of bowl turning I was, shall we say, not as enamored as he was with his new found talent.

Still, it came in handy when we threw a 70th birthday party for my aunt.  Michael made beautiful hand-turned bowls out of a tree that he cut down from my parents' (and formerly grandparents') house and gave them to everyone as a memento of the occasion.

My Pottery Barn replica

The cradle that no baby ever slept in...ha!

In addition to the bowls, he has filled our house with several lovely pieces of furniture: a tv stand, a corner cabinet, two end tables, stools, shelves...I could go on and on.  Before Noah was born he crafted a beautiful cradle.  Unfortunately neither Noah or Addison would have anything to do with it.  Then, last Christmas he replicated a table that I wanted from the Pottery Barn catalogue. But no piece of workmanship has ever been as impressive as our new kitchen table.  Made from the same tree cut down from my parents' house, he milled it, dried it and began work on it several months ago.  Many thanks to all of our friends who helped him move it from here to there and back again during the time that he was building it. Weighing in at over 300 pounds (God help us if we ever have to move it) it was no small feat getting it from his wood shop to the kitchen!
So, even though the never ending sound of power tools occasionally makes me want to scream, and I think I might die if I have to vacuum up one more wood shaving from the living room, I guess those things are a small price to pay for having such an amazingly creative husband.

Trick or Treating

A couple of weeks ago we were driving to school in the morning, and Emily announced, " I either want to be a princess or Sacagawea for Halloween this year!"  Since we have about six princess dresses I was hoping that she would decide on one of them, but a couple of days later the verdict came down that we were going to be in search of one Native American costume.  Luckily, I was pretty sure where I could find one.  My dear friend from work was kind enough to pull her daughter's Lenape Indian costume down from the attic...a costume that her now adult daughter wore in her 4th grade NJ play.
As you can see, her fourth grade costume seemed to fit my kindergartener perfectly!  And after searching through a bag of hand me down costumes, we were able to throw a Davey Crocket costume together for Noah, even though he REALLY wanted to be Chief Redstick (don't ask me how my kids come up with all of these ideas).
We had a great night trick or treating with some of Emily and Noah's friends and then visiting some of the girls that I work with.  

PS: Mrs. S if you are reading this...the pumpkin flashlights were a huge hit!  Noah took his to bed with him!

Special K-Challenged

Yes, that's right.  I have to admit that I am Special K- challenged.  I am, of course, referring to the "lose a pants size in two weeks" diet, the diet that seems so simple that even the most commited junk foodie could do it, the diet that promises those pesky six pounds that everyone wants to lose will vanish in two weeks.   Two weeks!... a fortnight, fourteen days...a mere blink of the eye in our fast paced lives. Sadly, though, I have tried and failed at the two week challenge more times than I'd care to put into print.  I would have to say that I am diet - challenged in general.  Pretty much there isn't a food that I've met that I don't like.  There are some exceptions to the rule like succotash (so gross), tofu (not really sure that it even qualifies as food), oysters (slimy!) and tartare (something you should really only eat if stranded on a desert island, but somehow qualifies as gourmet). Other than those few culinary no-nos, it's safe to say that I'm in love with food.

Unfortunately my love affair with food is causing a hate hate relationship with my jeans right now.  After baby number three everything seems to have shifted, my center of gravity is down around my ankles, and as luck would have it, I have about six pounds standing between me and a weight that I would be really happy with....well, a weight that I can live with.  Cue the Special K commercials.  This time WILL be different.  I know this because I have enlisted help.  My friend, Casey, who is a tennis coach, and who once in a while humors me by chasing my serves around the tennis court, has agreed to forego her fondue and Slurpee addiction for two weeks so that I can once again fit comfortably in my jeans.  If that isn't friendship then I don't know what is.
So, wish us luck!  Weighing in at 1xx and 1xx, two self proclaimed foodies are about to tackle Operation Quit Being a Fatty next week.  If anyone would like to join us you can get all of the diet info here. Stay tuned.

The Gloves Come Off...for a Good Cause

It's that time of year again....that time of year that I wish I didn't have to open up Emily's backpack, because I know what I will find...the dreaded school fundraising packet.  Although most of the catalogue items are buyer friendly: pizzas, cheesecakes and Gertrude Hawk chocolates, there is nothing worse than troubling your family and friends to buy items that they may not want or use.  If that isn't bad enough, there is always the "what we'd like every family to sell" dollar amount, deciding what prizes you want in the event that you actually sell between $499 - $699 (we're eyeing up a very nice art set in case this happens), and of course the daily contests at school to see who is racking up the most sales.  These contests are what led me to a little self reflection this weekend.
It all started last Wednesday night as I was perusing the various flyers and contest rules.  Enclosed was a paper to be returned ASAP that gave permission for Emily to attend a "Nifty Fifties" ice cream outing should she be one of the top sellers. And at the bottom it promised that the first ten students to return the form would get a special prize the next day.   So, while filling it out, I gave Emily directions to give it to her teacher right away and maybe she would get a prize.
Now, every morning it is pretty much a fight to the finish until we get out of the door.  Mostly this is because of Emily's hair which I threaten to shave off on a daily basis, but that's a topic for another blog.  Typically we are racing out the door at 8:04 am, and I am telling Noah to put his shoes on in the car and Emily still only has one side of her hair done.  However, on Thursday morning I noticed Emily getting ready at a breakneck pace.  It was 7:45, teeth were brushed, hair was combed and she was telling Noah that he could just put his coat on over his pajamas.

"What is going on?"  I asked.  To which she replied, "MOM...we have to get to school so that I can be the first to hand my paper in.  I'm GOING TO GET a prize!"  Feeling relieved that there was going to be no blood spilt over the hair brushing, I chuckled to myself as we got in the car and made it to school ten minutes earlier than normal.   As I pulled away I wondered...was she more interested in getting a prize or just the idea of being the first?  I got my answer when we picked her up that afternoon.  Smiling from head to toe she exclaimed, "I handed my paper in and I got a prize!"  Feeling incredibly satisfied myself I prompted her for more details, "What was the prize?"
"Oh it was just a donut, BUT I was the only one in my class that got one!"  And there it was.  The competitive urges of a five year old summed up in one simple contest.  What was even more surprising to me was how excited I was for her....here I was having a spike the ball in the end zone type of moment over a paper and a donut?
So, being completely aware of my competitive spirit, I've been asking myself...how does it start?  Nature or nurture?  Maybe a little of both?

Open Air Markets and the Other White Meat

Yesterday, we went to a great farm market hosted on a working farm.  Because it's the end of the season, the vendors didn't have much out to sell, but we are excited to go and check it out next summer.  There's something about open air markets that make you want to go home and make a fabulously fresh salad or an apple tart of some sort.  It is, of course, more pricey than picking out your produce at the grocery store, but I love supporting local farmers....what dedication!  I cannot even keep a garden alive through the entire summer.
So, since we weren't in the market for cauliflower and fall peppers, we decided to do our part by getting our lunch from the food stand.  Noah went for his standard mac n cheese lunch, and Emily and I split a pulled pork plate, which, by the way is the best thing that you can do with a pig....there is nothing better!  Knowing that Emily wouldn't eat it if told what it actually was, I pretended to ignore her when she assumed that it was chicken.  After we were done, and the secret was revealed Noah asked, "What kind of animal is pork?"  And later, "Did they raise the pig on this farm?"

After a nice lunch, and listening to a rather scary rendition of Brown Eyed Girl from a local guitar player we headed home.  As we pulled in the driveway Noah lept out of the car, raced in the house and exclaimed to his dad, "Dad!  We went to a farm where they grow vegetables and they have sheep and pigs!  AND...Mom and Emily ate one of the pigs!!!!"

Birthday ~ Phillies Style

                                         Me saying, "Not with hot dog in your mouth!"

Since Noah and Emily both have fall birthdays we usually have one party, and this year it was a Phillies party.  Our birthday parties are always small with family and a few close friends, but they always have a great time.  After a little crafting, playing on the park, riding bikes and scooters and playing princess (for the girls) it was time for some cake.  Unfortunately, Noah was feeling a little rushed to finish his hot dog before he blew out the candles.  Yep, hot dog on the cake...pretty gross, but I guess that kind of thing doesn't phase parents with little kids, because most people still had a piece!

Chincoteague

We had a great time this September in Chincoteague, VA.  It is the perfect place to go if you want to do nothing.  And that is exactly what we did!  Our days at the beach were followed by a relaxing dinner, a trip around the wild life refugee and a stop at the Creamery for the best ice cream ever.

Easiest Baby Ever

Addison was born June 4th at 10:10 a.m.  She is the easiest. baby. ever.   After many months of sleepless nights with my son, Noah, I was prepared for the worst.  We have been pleasantly surprised!  Addison started sleeping through the night at two months and has been sleeping eleven ~ twelve hours ever since.  She smiles at everyone, laughs at everything and will eat anything!  I am finding that I am really able to enjoy all of her baby moments.  With Emily I was nervous about everything, because she was my first.  Noah cried all of the time about everything.  With Addison I am calm, relaxed and loving it!