Archive for the ‘“Getting Better”’ Category

Listen. I know, Flashing Cursor. I realize I’ve been MIA from this blog for months. I am aware I used to take great pleasure in writing about all the ways my children outsmart me on a daily basis. All the ways they made me feel so loved and then so completely useless and then wait, nope, there’s the love again~ often in one breath. After briefly considering canceling my hosting when it came up for renewal a month ago, I decided I would give it another year and see what I had left in me for this space. I really don’t know. But for now, I am here and I promise not to make any promises about how often I’ll check in, because that seems to just guarantee I’ll never write again.

So this is what I can tell you now… In less than 2 hours, my two giant children will join the household for the summer. This is maybe a little scary and maybe a little awesome. I like having all my chicks with me for the most part. I love lazy days, jammies til noon, lunch when…ever, beach and park trips, art supplies strewn about the table and intricate figurine set-ups taking over my gardens. It makes me smile, it makes me sigh. It makes me miss being a kid.

Like all parents, I don’t enjoy the whining, tattling or the incessant arguing but unfortunately, it comes with the territory of multiple kids. We’ll get through, I know, but I definitely don’t have to be excited about it. Mostly I am nervous about Rowan’s insane dance schedule over the next two weeks. She has summer dance and nationals practice that leaves her at the studio from 10:45- 5:30 or later most nights. Then I have to kiss my little guy’s sweet cheeks enough to last me 9 whole days without him while we’re in Florida. {Clearly I did NOT think this through. I’m already panicking and searching for plane tickets for him, shhhhh don’t tell Bill. He’ll think it’s funny when Ez shows up in my carry-on, right?} The longest I’ve been away from Ezra is overnight. I’m legit freaking out right now.

But! If we can make it through June, and the first 4 days of July, we’ll be in the clear to laze around and enjoy Summer at our new house. It seems amazing to me that I didn’t write about such a huge life change when I have multiple {really, like DOZENS} of posts devoted to poop on this blog. I wish I could detail the simultaneously dawn-out saga/whirlwind this whole process has been, but the most important thing to know is that we are all so very, extremely happy to be in a beautiful new home that is just the perfect fit for us. Hopefully more on that to come {if I can get my shit together, so again, no promises}.

For now, I will leave you with these two…

Who completely OWNED 2nd grade and Kindergarten.. with nary a yellow or red light between the two for an ENTIRE year, like WHOA.

Who completely OWNED 2nd grade and Kindergarten, with nary a yellow or red light between the two for an ENTIRE year, like WHOA. So proud of them!

And these two, who melt my heart, pretty much on a daily basis…

I think lucky is the word I'm looking for. Yep.

I think lucky is the word I’m looking for. Yep.


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The bestest, most smartest, handsomest, funniest, all-around-great-guy Baby named Ezra.

It's true. I'm pretty amazing.

It’s true. I’m pretty amazing. Also: MY EYELASHES. They will take over the world one day.

What did my genius of a baby do to deserve the highest honor of Best Baby, Like, Ever? He slept through the night two nights in a row, people. And not some lame ass sleep like midnight to 5:30 because you assholes out there claiming that is sleeping through the night are NOT FOOLING ANYONE with that shit HoooooooNoooooo. My advanced super-smart-genius-baby slept from 8:30 PM-at-night-o’clock to 7 AM-in-the-morning-o’clock.



We’ve been rocking a pretty good night routine all month. At the end of December Ezra was going down around 9pm, and eating at around midnight and 4am, with a wake-up time around 7:30ish. Then by the end of the first week in January he started sleeping through the midnight feeding so we just went with it and he was getting up anywhere between 3:30 and 4:30 to eat, once in a while he’d make it to 5 but that just messed up our morning routine because the 8 o’clock hour is go-time for the other two so I really had to try to get him up at four or wait until seven otherwise the mornings would be a nightmare. We figured we were in for at least another 2-3 months of night feedings and we still might be, but considering I haven’t slept soundly through the night since before I got pregnant? Two nights of uninterrupted sleep is HUGE and I will take it, thankyouverymuch.

That IS amazeballs. I AM AMAZEBALLS!

That IS amazeballs. I AM AMAZEBALLS!

Even if it is short-lived, he timed this perfect as I was smote with an icky cold that knocked me down for a few days, so good baby is good. Now if you’ll excuse me I’m going to start researching Ivy league schools for my clearly advanced infant, or, I don’t know, college is sort of expensive and not really necessary when you’re already the smartest so maybe I’ll just go ahead and have him apply for that Rocket Science internship I’ve had my eye on.

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So, yeah. Things look a little different around here. Yesterday I got a bee in my bonnet, deciding I needed to change the header to include Ezra. The thing is, because there is always a thing, Bill designed and built my blog back in 2010 having very little knowledge about blog coding and while he did a fabulous job, it was time-consuming and a giant pain in the ass. At the time it was worth it because I was blogging very regularly and had hopes in the future of putting work into promoting it and making it a bigger, maybe even income-generating thing.

After a little time and soul-searching, I decided that what I really wanted for the foreseeable future was a home to keep our family’s memories, nothing more. Not that you can tell from the posts I put up here but I’m actually somewhat of a perfectionist when it comes to my writing so when I thought about being read on a wider scale I knew I would drive myself crazy during the editing process, because time? We just don’t have it at this point in our lives. Life morphs, evolves, in the nearly seven and a half years of being a parent, the shape of our family along with its dynamic has changed so many times. One day I might get to a place where I want to do more with this space but for now I scramble to document the big events and much of the minutiae of every day life is lost to these pages now.

At the point we’re at now, I just wanted to strip down what I had by choosing a basic wordpress theme, throw up a picture of the kids as the header and call it a day. Only neither of us could figure out how to add a picture to the header which seems like it should be the easiest thing in the world and it probably is but when you have two sleep-deprived parents of three small children, well, basically we’re idiots. So after playing around with themes and trying to get the fuuuuuureaking header image up, we broke the Internet and my blog {temporarily, obvs.} then gave up and went to bed because our brain cells were starting to jump ship out our earholes. Being a lazy asshole, I’m just leaving it bare-bones for now, but if we can’t figure out how to fix it, I’ll probably end up putting the old site back up until we figure it out, so bear with me as my super kaduper life is going to be a bit bi-polar for a while. UPDATED: Bill figured out the header! Yay Bill! {I’d say I’m sorry for publicly shaming you, but you know, shame gets shit DONE.}

Now! To distract you from these boring surroundings, I will share with you my very favorite Christmas gift. Rowan was very secretive about the gift she had made in school but she was super excited, downright giddy, to give it to us. The little stinker even sneaked out in the wee hours of Christmas morning and put it under the tree for us, right next to her own presents which I’m sure she thoroughly {illegally!} inspected. Truth is I sort of cheated because the evening after the last day of school I was going through her bag and in it was a rough draft of her present. I didn’t realize what it was at first, it was just a little stapled book, but I’m so glad I was able to read it first out of her presence because tears were just streaming down my face I was laughing so hard which probably would have insulted her had she witnessed it. Thankfully, I was much more composed on Christmas morning.

Here is her book. The harrowing story of her mother. A mother who, against all odds, takes naps, goes shopping and drinks…












I can’t decide if my favorite part is when I ditch everyone to take a nap or when I take my small child out on a shopping trip where I start drinking. A few people who read it tried to make me feel better by saying maybe I was just being mean and not letting her get a drink, that it didn’t necessarily mean it was alcoholic. So I asked Rowan why I wouldn’t let her have a drink in her story and she replied, “I can’t have those kinds of drinks mommy. They have booze in them.” You guys, I don’t even know what her teacher must think but for now I don’t care because despite the storyline, this was by far the best present I have ever received.

Also, just so we’re all up to speed, on the flip side was Bill’s story, in which he gave hugs, cooked her dinner and went to work like a responsible parent.

Now, Internet, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to go make a martini, do some shopping and take a nap.

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Knowing that this fall and a new sibling would bring many changes, I really wanted to make an effort to make this summer about hanging out with Rowan and Keaton and enjoying the relative get up and go freedom that comes with a 4.5 and 6.5 year old- something that we’ll be missing for the next couple of years as we start this whole parenting adventure over with our new little guy. Pregnancy in general, plus the anemia and fatigue I get along with it, sometimes made things tough but we accomplished a lot of what I wanted to do {water park!, beach! bike rides!} did more of some things than I thought possible {so. much. dance.} and had to skip a couple of bigger ideas {lake superior getaway} due to lack of time/funds. Overall? I think we did a pretty good job of soaking summer up…

Went for a firefly walk, Rowan even made friends with one.

Talked to a real pirate.

Made a pirate flag. That rainbow is really gonna strike fear into the hearts of other pirates, huh?

Made a butterfly ring.

Played on the sandbar on White Bear Lake that Mama grew up playing on.

Weaved on a loom.

Went to science camp.

Watched a ridiculous amount of swimming events during the Olympics. Here is Keaton “on the block”.

Splashed mighty splashes in puddles.

Not wanting to be left in his sister’s dust, learned to ride a two-wheel bike at 4.

Ate ridiculously bright-colored ice cream. I’m pretty sure I read somewhere that the brighter the hue the more natural and healthy it is…


Pretended to be cuddle fish at the beach.

Pretended to be lifeguards at the beach.

Took swimming lessons in a pool where we held our breath under water for many seconds and even really swam all on our own.

Refused to put our faces in the “yucky brown lake water” and also refused to swim without a life jacket at the lake which was the whole point of those lessons in the first place.

Hugged curious George at the Children’s Museum.

Planted peas and beans.

Went to Cascade Bay where we chilled on the lazy river and went down the big tube water slide.

Swam with flippers for the first time.

Rode bikes to the park.

Went swinging!

Went to a T-ball clinic with dad.

Went to a watercolor and acrylic class.

Picked carrots, peas and raspberries from our friends’ garden.

Shot a bow and arrow.

Ate Popsicles.

Had breakfast outside.

Told stories by candlelight during the power outage at Mallinger’s.

Went out for pizza with our cousins.

Slipped and slide-ed.

Visited Jorie’s work.

Went to Mama’s doctor appointment where we got to use a doplar on mom’s tummy and listen to our brother’s heartbeat.

Turned into Spiderman.

Turned into a butterfly.

Turned into a giant douchecanoe.

Hung out at the fire station.

Went to the N. St. Paul car show to see the cool cars and get ice cream.

Got into a water fight.

Watched the fireworks with our cousins. (Not Keaton, who went to grammy’s to watch Frosty the Snowman instead.)

Made marshmallow pops.

Turned 4 and a half!

Turned 7.

Got pet betta fish! Named them Harry Potter, Olympic Swimmer and Shimmer Dufenshmirtz Jr.

FINALLY gave up pull-ups at night so mom gets to enjoy approximately 3 whole months diaper free.

Went to the county fair and pet a fluffy bunny and went on rides.

Were ceremoniously introduced to daddy’s boyhood passion, TMNT.

Did not disappoint dad.

Had 3 friends over for a pajama-movie-night birthday party.

Went down the log chute and rode the big swings with daddy at Nickelodeon universe.

Had a fancy lunch at the American Girl Bistro.

Got Rebecca and Kanani’s hair done at the salon.

Had another birthday luau with Ellie!

Went to a summer ballet clinic.

Worked really hard at stretching and can almost do the splits.

Took first comp dance class.

Made the next line up in competition dance!

Got to be a flower girl.

Got to be a ring bearer.

Danced the night away at Auntie Susie’s wedding.

Finally decided it was safe to swim with heads underwater at the beach. Had a blast swimming around like fish, looking for shells and practicing underwater hand stands.

Finished my pre-k workbook and started working in my kindergarten workbook!

Passed the first two levels of Super Mario Bros for Wii.

Did the monkey bars all by ourselves.

Helped the neighbor girl with a lemonade stand to raise money for Tanzania.

Completed 20 hours of summer reading for the library’s Bookawocky program by devouring Cam Jansen, Disney Fairies and Rebecca and Kanani books.

Was brave enough to finally try the big scary silver slide.

Went for a sunset climb.

And? On Tuesday it will be on to new things…first grade, pre-k, new dance classes, new piano teacher and a very full schedule. After being so sick and apart from the kids all late winter and spring, I hope that what we did this summer made up for the time they spent watching me crawl from my crypt of a bedroom to the bathroom, only to miserably crawl right back in again. I know they won’t retain it all but hopefully the memories they do keep tucked away in the folds of their little brains will tide them over until their next adventure of becoming a big big sister and a big brother begins in October.

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For whatever reason, two Fridays ago my body gave me a reprieve. Yes, things had been improving in the 2-3 weeks before that but being just a step or two above misery is hardly an ideal situation. Rowan had her last competition the night before and I was not feeling great in the hours leading up to it as I struggled though getting her hair and make-up done, and let me just tell you that the hour we were stuck in a traffic jam in Minneapolis did nothing to improve that. I tried to eat something after getting her settled in the dressing room but between the nausea and nerves for how the dances would go I was fighting off the puke most of the night. After her second dance {which went awesome} my adrenaline finally kicked in and I felt better so even though it was late and most of the other kids had left, I gave in to Rowan’s pleas to stay for awards {which I’m so glad I did because she got to go up and accept the plaque for placing 6th of the top 10 dances in their bracket- she was so proud!}.

We didn’t get home until after eleven pm and by the time we got the kids down and settled in it was well after midnight and then I just couldn’t turn off so I laid awake most of the night. The next morning, we were all wiped so I let Rowan stay home from school and after Bill went off to work I was left in charge of both my kids for the first time in almost three months. Internet? We had the best day. I could tell that I felt better right away that morning but I just kept waiting for the nausea to creep back in like it normally does, but nope, I was able to enjoy the shit out of that entire day and wow, what a difference that makes. We had a picnic outside and took a sun nap. The kids rode their bikes and played baseball. I wasn’t just watching them be happy, I was participating in the happiness which is a distinction that’s hard to make unless you go through something like this where it’s just so hard to feel good about anything.

Things have still been up and down since but I’ve had a number of days that I could actually classify as “good” without any qualifiers as far as the nausea goes. The fatigue, on the other hand, is a whole other story. You know what happens to you when the only exercise you get for 12 straight weeks is crawling to the bathroom to throw-up? Your body sort of forgets how to work at anything besides fighting the puke, which is decidedly a core exercise and does nothing for the appendages. Over the last few weeks I’ve been trying to slowly build things back up by going for short walks around our block but even that exhausts me and I’m telling you, I have to sit down to catch my breath after I go up or down our stairs. Pathetic. The anemia is not helping this. I get terrible dizzy spells that sometimes verge on black-outs when I get up or try to move too fast which makes me scared to do any amount of walking/exercising while I’m alone or just with the kids- what if I black out? What would they do? {I mean besides check my pockets for loose change and head to the nearest candy store.} If I don’t stay hydrated or fed or rested my body and brain seriously just start to shut down. I feel like a flippin’ tamagachi- someone really should be regularly checking my body stats to make sure I don’t die a horrible electronic death.

Okay this is getting whiny, when the whole purpose was to talk about how things have been getting better, let’s try this…

Things I can do today that I couldn’t do a couple of weeks ago:

…drink water. If this baby comes out with an extra eyeball or two, I’m going to go ahead and blame it on the fact that up until very recently I could only stomach caffeine free diet coke. Water? PUKE. Juice? PUKE. Ginger ale? OH GOD PLEASE, DOUBLE FUCKING PUKE. People love to suggest this, along with soda crackers, like I hadn’t thought of that at this point and I want to throw cans of the shit at their face while crumbling saltines in their bed. Partly because I’m frustrated that these go-to morning sickness cure-alls didn’t do a damn thing for me and partly because I’m just a little bit of an asshole. Anyway, I started integrating flavored vitamin-fortified water into my diet a few weeks ago and now I can safely drink water or lemon water without gagging so, you know, progress.

…take a long enough shower to actually shave my legs without fear of having to jump out stark naked and soaking wet so I could dry heave into toilet. Oh my shit you guys. My legs had never reached such epic hairy proportions. I’m one of those assholes who always had fine, blond leg hair that needed shaving one, maybe two times a week if I was feeling ambitious, but this time the pregnancy hormones brought out the thick, dark, wiry leg hair and I very seriously considered ordering a machete online to get rid of it after weeks and weeks of going untamed. I admit to being a little bit of a hippie but long leg hair? Not for me. Just no.

…pick Keaton up from preschool. Seeing him run out to the car with a big smile is one of my favorite things of always.

…feed my kids lunch. Admittedly, Bill makes the lunches in the morning and so I just tell Keaton {and Rowan if she’s home} to get it out of the fridge and I’m just in charge of drinks, but it’s a start. My sense of smell is still so incredibly heightened that just being able to smell their lunch is impressive at this point.

… go for a walk around the block with my family. Watching Rowan ride her two-wheeler is still just not getting old. When I think of how far she has come in the last year…well, it’s just amazing.

…eat pickles and nachos and rainbow sherbert without having to thoughtfully ponder what they will taste/feel like coming back up. I admit to not feeling awesome after consuming any of these but at least I have the option to make dumb-ass food choices that I didn’t have a week or so ago.

…integrate small amounts of coffee back into my morning routine. I’m not going to lie. This has made a HUMONGOUS difference. I weaned off coffee while trying to get pregnant because some study or other showed the acids in it could contribute to early miscarriage, but since all the sciencey people are in agreement that once you’re safely in your second trimester coffee is just fine, I dove head first into a small 4 ounce cup last week and have been in heaven ever since.

Friday I had my 17 week OB appointment where my main concern was not feeling the baby much at this point. Like I said before, Rowan and Keaton were early wigglers which is why I opted out of buying an at-home doppler so of course this time Sammy Davis Junior Junior is not being wiggly at all. After finding a strong, healthy heart beat, my midwife guessed that this is probably because the placenta is hanging out in the front of my uterus this time around, causing a barrier to the kicks that will no doubt be felt in full force from 1-4am every night of my third trimester.

Other than that, she recommended some books on unmedicated birth options {no need to tell me I’m an idiot, I’m already fully aware of that fact} and we set up the ultrasound for next month, which will hopefully tell us if in a few years I’ll be vacuuming up tiny princess shoes or having to sit through that goddamn Jar Jar Binks Star Wars for the 3,985th time.

So! Onward. I can’t explain why my hormones finally decided to level off, or why the medication decided it was going to start taking full effect but honestly, I don’t care. Being able to take care of the kids again has been huge and while I’m definitely not 100%, I feel like a functioning human being again which is, you know, kind of important.

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It’s nearly a week into the new year and I have yet to utter one single resolution for the betterment of my own life and/or the world at large. As much as I really liked the format of a laundry list of goals both long and short-term, and the monthly shamefest, uh, I mean check-in, it’s just not a possibility for me at this juncture, and that’s not me being lazy, it’s me being truthful. It’s not because I don’t have goals. Actually my goals for this year are so big, so incredibly giant, that one or two of them could very seriously kick the shit out of last year’s whole list.

The problem is? I have zero control over these goals. I can’t work really hard, or pray to baby jebus, or rub a buddha belly, or stay up all night worrying, or practicepracticepractice, or say any magic words {but trust me I will be doing many combinations of all of those things anyway} to achieve these goals. Sure, there are things I can do to improve my chances but in the end, I’ll have to breathe deep, let go and see where the path leads. Did I mention I’m not very good at that sort of thing? Because, really. I’M NOT VERY GOOD AT THAT SORT OF THING. I like to know whenwhywhowhatwherehow many months in advance of anything, but the “when” is my weakest point. I’m a stickler for time, and in being such, I’m a sucker for time and like how most of these things go, it’s one of my greatest strengths and terrible weaknesses. So not having a timeline for many of my goals is…hmm…let’s put it nicely and just say it’s aggravating.

So I’m not going to go in depth about most of the big goals, but since I got all over-sharey last November, you guys already know that we’re working on procuring ourselves another little gunterling so it’s pretty obvious that this is one of the big goals for 2012. Unfortunately, time is not on our side. If it were only as simple as getting pregnant, {which OHRIGHT, has not been simple} but the real complicating factor is that if I do get knocked up I will also be knocked on my ass for a minimum of four months. Hyperemesis doesn’t mean you feel sort of queasy during periods of the day, or that certain foods send you running to the bathroom. It means you feel like you’re in the middle of the worst hangover you’ve ever had with no end in sight and every single thing you even get a whiff of can start the puking. By the second week of this with both kids, I swear I did not even feel like a human being anymore. I am not functional in any normal sort of way.

I cannot be in this state over the summer months, for one, because the kids are home fulltime and while Bill’s job is flexible it’s not THAT flexible, and for two, my younger sister is getting married at the end of July and I sort of think she’d appreciate it if I was upright and didn’t have throw-up on my bridesmaid dress. So. That means the worst of the sickness needs to be over by Mayish and even that’s REALLY pushing it. So that means that if I don’t get and stay {always a plus!} knocked up by mid-late February, then that’s it for Operation Gunterling 2012.

The pressure of it all is sort of making me want to punch myself in my own damn face, which is why I need a smallish outlet that will come in the form of miniature goals, not to be confused with miniature golf which is also fun but completely off topic. At first I thought I could start with a few goals for each month, easily attainable ones that I could give myself a cheap pat on the back for but even that seems like a stretch right now. With so very many unknowns set out before us, I am opting for weekly goals that I’m going to put zero pressure on myself for keeping up with should our circumstances change or maybe even if I get distracted by something bright and shiny.

I’m thinking maybe now would be a good time to quit talking and start listing.

Goals for January, Week One:


Somewhere in the hectic schedules of 4 dance lessons/karate/piano/preschool/kindergarten et all, and the hugely chaotic seasons of fall and winter and the 9,008 holidays stuffed into them, I quit playing with Keaton. And when I did I was most assuredly making a to-do list in my head or worrying about what I should/could be getting done at the moment. I personally think that there’s nothing wrong with a little independent playtime or even to throw a video or PBS on so you can attack that bathroom or the looming laundry pile that threatens to take over the house. But over the last 6 weeks I was leaning on those things far more heavily than I normally like to and I could really see the difference in Keaton. Kid was cranky. Kid was needy. Kid was sort of an asshole.

This is not normally my hilarious, smiley, happy-go-lucky guy, so after I vacuumed up the last of the pine needles on Monday, I sat down and thought about how to help him and the answer came pretty easy. Keaton’s “love language” or whatever new-agey, touchy-feely term you want to stamp on it, is no big mystery…he wants time. Time with me specifically, and that has been seriously lacking since this summer. So this week I made myself prioritize my chores so I could carve out most of my mornings just for him and wow what a difference it made. Yes I was getting the beginnings of a sinus infection, yes we were all trying to reacclimate to the normal week’s routine, but I still made time for a delicious Play-Doh sushi brunch, a paper jams jamming session, multiple tea parties and fun games for numbers and letters practice. And I also reminded myself that this is a kid who can really be happy doing anything as long as he’s with me so I had a laundry buddy, a dishes buddy, a dusting buddy and a exercising buddy. It’s actually been a pretty fun week.


Other than the obvious, the biggest downside of last fall’s miscarriage was that it was very physically painful and lasted weeks, and when it was over I was left smack dab in the middle of Christmas cookie season. Part of the problem is that having the knowledge that I could become horribly ill and go for months without being able to eat barely any food, let alone good food, can really fuck with you. In other words, I really wanted to monopolize on my food intake while I could. This is actually a pretty smart move considering I lost around 20 pounds in my first trimester with Rowan and 16 with Keaton. Natch, this time I never got sick but I was completely inactive during the weeks leading up to and then during the almost four week period it took me to miscarry. Needless to say, my body took a beating and I was in no place to start an exercise regimen. And guess what?! I’m still not. But I can’t live like I’m going to get knocked up when all evidence points to the fact that it might not happen for a while.

Until I know for sure, my goal is to move more, which means less couch time and more activity. For this week my move time involved running my stairs, 16 steps worth, 25 times. I know this sounds like a tiny amount and that’s what I thought during rounds 1{ha!},2{seriously this is it?},3{yawn},4{this is laughable}, 5 {and also for pussies} and then six came and I wanted to chop both of my legs off mid-thigh and my heart rate was telling me that perhaps I better slow down lest it explode right then and there and I still had 19 more rounds to go. I did this three times this week, only skipping Thursday due to the aforementioned sinus infection that threatened to flatten me but was staved off by that day of rest and copious amounts of Emergen*C and zi*cam.

The other thing I did for movement was purchase our very own copy of Just Dance 3 and you laugh now, Internet, but after dancing five of those things in quick succession I dare you not to be a sweaty mess. This was also a huge hit with Keaton who likes to do it with me. I’ll be re-evaluating what will keep me moving from week-to-week, but since this worked really well this week, I plan to keep it up for next. By March I’ll be able to form a more coherent exercise plan if need be, which will definitely include a more regimented schedule of running and strength training, but for now, this works.


Again. I don’t really know what the next few weeks will bring so making a huge diet overhaul would be a waste of time. After the overindulgence of the holidays, my plan for this week was to under-indulge if you will, which included way smaller portions, lots of vegetables, bananas, oranges and nuts, and many many gallons of water. Wine, olives and cheese are going back to weekend-only duty for the most part. So sad.

And that’s really it. I think for now it’s enough to give me focus without frustrating me due to the oh so many unknowns of 2012. I probably won’t punish you with weekly check-ins but if there’s a big shift or new goal or some of the fog clears that will give us some damn insight to what the next 12 months holds, I’ll be sure to fill you in.

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This year was a growing year. A stretching year. The past two years I was happy to bask in the life we had created, content to settle in and breathe in life, and honestly I think I did a pretty good job of that. But. We humans are always moving forward, ever in motion, always striving for the next bit of happiness out there that we can make our own. This year I wasn’t content to sit passively in this {admittedly, amazingly blessed} life anymore, it was time to grow and as we all know, that can come with some amount of pain, of the growing variety and otherwise. This was a year that told me, in no uncertain terms, that I had to be the catalyst. I had to collect myself and define where we wanted to be, where we should be in the next year. It was a year to plan, though those plans are always subject to the sense of humor of this utterly unpredictable universe we live in. Though the lows were so heavy, so low, the highs of two thousand eleven did and will continue to outshine it all…

More specifically, these three wonderful, crazy, clever, amazing people. They are mine and more importantly, I am theirs.

Here’s looking at you, Twenty Twelve…

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