Good Morning Sunshine

I am finally awakening from my blog slumber. It wasn't a fun few weeks. I thought I was doing pretty well by blogging through the four weeks of nearly full time training, but the end of the whole process threw me for a loop.

It all started with a few incidents between my children and the MomBFFs children. It sparked a . . . I wouldn't call it a fight, because we didn't yell or argue . . . I would say it was a few discussions that ended by having to agree to disagree. Feelings were hurt.

The end result was a decision to take a week off from each other until we could figure out the next step. I didn't realize how that would affect me. I am assuming most friends taking a break wouldn't be a major ordeal, but we are extremely close families. Many people think we are polygamists we are together so often. For us, a break meant no school carpool, no twins over on Monday and Tuesday, no trips to the gym, no thrift shopping, no sewing, no crafting, and no hanging out to watch our Wednesday shows. I was truly heartbroken even though it was I who suggested the break.

I felt like a failure as a mother and a friend. Thank the Lord the break was just what we needed. The following Sunday MomBFF said, "Can my kids come back tomorrow or should I find actual daycare." I immediately told her to bring them over. I was elated. I missed them terribly. Crazy right? Missing Twin B - or Elle as she is called after the fabulous movie Legally Blonde - was understandable. Who wouldn't miss a prissy toddler who puts her toys away and looks oh so adorable doing so with her pink purse slung over her shoulder? Missing Twin A - or Jack as we call him . . . after a donkey - was the surprising part. He is a mischievous monkey who starts all the trouble. Okay, not all, but he is a handful. I missed him the most! He is so sweet and lovable you forget all his antics.

After getting the other half of my family back, I went into a slight depression of other sorts. I wasn't feeling like a woman. I was so engrossed in motherhood, stepping it up as a babysitter, and repairing a wounded friendship I began to feel like I was letting myself go again.

A night at work changed my perception. If you have never heard of the five love languages, go check it out. If you are a personality quiz junkie, this one is a good one. Anyhow, my top love language is words of affirmation. I need to hear how amazing people think I am. I know, big shocker. Two customers I dealt with last weekend were able to pull me out of my depression with a few phrases.

The first customer was a big flirt. We played the game well, including an exchange of such phrases as "If you weren't married I would totally hit on you" and "If I wasn't married I would totally take you up on it." He validated me as a woman!

The second customer was an older gentleman. I love old guys, especially ones that carry themselves with pride. He asked me, "Are you new here?" When I told him it was my third day he said, "Your knowledge and accuracy is spot on." I went home on cloud nine.

They were both being polite customers, but I doubt they know the full extent of what they did. They pulled a middle aged woman out of a sluggish mood. Here is a shout out to John and Patrick. You made my night :)

-Sara

Today is the Big Day

I start training today!! I am super excited. It feels like the first day of school. I am slightly disappointed about the dress code. They told me jeans and t-shirts are fine. I was hoping for an excuse to dress up! I am still going to wear my slacks and button down. And my new shoes! I NEEDED new shoes. Don't we all?

Wish me luck!

-Sara

Thanks Babe! I Love You Too!

Husbands drive me nuts when they are trying to be helpful. I was sick on Saturday. He was very thoughtful and sent me to take a four hour nap. That part was wonderful. In the meantime, my mother called to have my older son come spend the night. I wake up to find him gone. No problem yet.

The next morning, however, I meet up with her at church. My son is wearing extremely worn jeans and a t-shirt two sizes too big. Turns out my lovely husband let him pack his own bag for the overnight. Thank goodness he brought a toothbrush! I had to listen to my mother mention, "I think it is great that you are going to the gym every other day now, but don't you think you should make laundry a priority? He said he couldn't find any clean clothes."

Mortified. That boy had clean clothes. Sheesh!

Oh, and while I am on a husband rant. He needs to stop telling people I am going back to work for goofy reasons. He told one set of people I got a job so I can get a new minivan that has seats which turn to face the rear. Yes, I would love one of those, but I am happy with my current paid off van thank you very much.

He told another set of people that I am getting a job because I am turning into my mother. Which to him means I want gobs of money for shopping. LMAO!!! While it is true I would LOVE to have extra money so I don't have to say, "honey . . ." everytime there is a craft sale, in reality I spend less money on shopping than any other woman I know. What is he talking about?

Tonight I mentioned to my mother-in-law that my younger daughter is signed up for the 2008-2009 school year for half day preschool. Ryan made an off the cuff comment about, "Well, this is assuming she keeps her job and can afford it." UGH!!! Don't make it sound like I need to work. Preschool was in the budget before I talked about this job.

Men - weirdos. I assume it is his way of making conversation with people while keeping our personal stuff private. I should start piping up with some nonsense of my own -

"I have to build up my Just-In-Case-I-Decide-To-Leave-Ryan fund."

"The deal is I work for a year, then I get to conceive twins."

"Ryan is making me pay for my own boob job."

"I'm not really getting a job. It's my cover for the affair."

-Sara

Watch Out, Sara's in a Mood

I don't remember PMS being this horrible before the second set of kids. Ryan might remember differently, but this time around I am snapping at everyone in the house!

I probably would not have even noticed it, but I caught myself yelling at the baby. My older two shot each other a look that seemed to say, "we better get outta here, she is even yelling at her favorite kid!" and they took off.

Lately I have been watching my cycle like a hawk . . . refer to ChitChatMoms episode #34. Anyone else out there with a long cycle? I am sitting at 31-32 days. While I don't mind waiting an extra few days for the mood swings, the bloating, the having to mess with strange contraptions, etc, it does feel like hormones are simply BURSTING by the time we get to it.

Last night I went from happy to angry to sad to enraged to indifferent to adoring to bitchy to giggly to exhausted in roughly 45 minutes. Maybe I should head back to the gym today and work off some hormones.

- Sara

Why we love SingleBFF

Just a typical night watching Project Runway

SingleBFF - Why am I SO RETARDED!?!?!
MomBFF - Ooooo! Oooooo! (raising her hand)
Me - We ask ourselves that EVERYDAY
SingleBFF - I hate my life, shut up
MomBFF - that's why it is a bad idea when cousins marry
SingleBFF - what?
MomBFF - forget it
Me - she said, "that's why it is a bad idea when cousins marry"
SingleBFF - who are cousins?
MomBFF - your PARENTS
Single - my parents? are cous . . . no they aren't

By now we were laughing hysterically
SingleBFF - I don't understand
Me - What are you doing that makes you retarded?
SingleBFF - I can't figure out Oregon Trail
Hysterical laughter starts up
MomBFF - what's more retarded, that you are trying to play Oregon Trail, or that you can't figure it out?

While MomBFF and I tried to figure this out, SingleBFF answered for us:
"Geezuz, why isn't this working?"

And we still don't understand why she was playing Oregon Trail.

-Sara

Ignorance is Bliss

WOW, I am HUGE!!! I knew I wasn't skinny anymore. Skinny ended LONG ago, which is why I joined a fitness center. At the gym yesterday I decided I might as well step on the scale and get a good starting reference. I think my eyeballs nearly popped out of the socket! No wonder my son calls me big mama! Great, now I have to break up with SingleBFF. I can't be seen with that skinny bitch anymore. Sheesh. Why didn't anyone TELL me I was growing at an enormous rate?

I suppose my mother has tried. She slips it in from time to time. Not outright, no, she is sneaky. She says things like, "I bought these pants for you, I THINK they will fit" or "Look at this picture of you in junior high, man you looked good." Unfortunately I never listen to my mom about size or weight. She is 4' 11" and 110 lbs soaking wet. She enjoys my junior high looks because that is the last time I was her size. Guess how much she weighed on the day she delivered me. 120! I only know because when I went to the doctor my junior year of high school and stepped on the scale I heard her say, "WOW, I wasn't even that big when I was nine months pregnant with you!" Thanks Mom!

I grew up not caring about my weight. I knew I was active, taught dance and although I am a sucker for sweets and fast food, I generally ate healthy. In my early twenties I was a full time dance teacher, and while not smoking hot skinny, I was adorable. Marriage added ten lovely pounds. When I got pregnant with baby #1 I didn't care how much weight I gained as long as I didn't hit my husband's weight, forty more. Thankfully I didn't, and six weeks after delivery I was back down to pre-pregnancy size. Teaching dance 20 hours a week helped. I wasn't so lucky after baby #2. He added ten pounds. Baby #3, ten pounds. Baby #4, you guessed it, another ten.

I was still okay, ten pounds under my worst fear. Then I stepped on that scale yesterday. I am THIRTEEN pounds heavier than I thought. Three pounds over the dreaded ex-husband weight.

For those who aren't number geeks - I have 53 pounds to lose to attain a healthy fit body. Sigh. That is how much my oldest weighs. I'll keep you posted.

- Jolly Sara

Ho Hum, Fitness Fun

So I walk into a fitness center with my sister, a facility my brother highly recommended. She wants to get more flexible. I want to get my energy levels back to keep up with the kids. Okay, I'll be honest. Sex was WAY more fun when I had my dance teacher energy. The baby is out of the bedroom. It is time to recapture the moments like drunken pacman night. But anyway - My sister and I figured it would be an uneventful trip to find out details on the membership plans. We were wrong.

My stereotyped vision of fitness centers is a building full of overly upbeat individuals ready to sign you up for the world as well as pushy trainers who hound you to get personal circuit routines. "We want to pump (clap) you up!" That is not what we encountered.

We walked in and were practically ignored. Me, ignored!?! After a few minutes of us hanging back trying to figure out if we were suppose to approach the woman behind the desk, who was already talking to a young couple, or head to the young lean man behind the counter trying desperately to find something to make him look busy, he finally made eye contact with us. No greeting, no can I help you, just a look on his face that told me he was half hoping we weren't expecting him to talk to us.

My sister and I exchanged looks and walked over to the counter as he finally uttered with a forced friendliness, "Do you need something?" We clearly looked like we had never entered this building before, "We were hoping someone could show us around."

Now he showed even less interest in us. He explained he was only the personal trainer, but the woman at the desk would be able to help us soon. We figured we would help him be helpful, "Tell us about the personal training." His response - "I do it." We gave up on him.

When the desk lady was done a few moments later, she approached us and began her exciting tour. She stayed about two steps ahead of us, which made hearing her above the hum of machines next to impossible as she pointed out areas along the way. It consisted of, here are these, here are those, over here is the stretch area. Thanks lady, we would have NEVER figured that one out with a big sign that said, "stretch area."

Although she did turn around and face us as she mentioned the tanning bed. Yes darling, we can tell this is where you spend your time. You look like you have cow hide underneath that inch layer of makeup. "oh, but that is a separate charge." Lady, do I look like I am going tanning anytime soon? I am neon white with enough love handles to render the tanning bed incapable of an even tan. Really, just keep walking.

"Do you have kids?" ROFLMAO. Do I have kids? Do you see this post-pregnancy belly that I haven't gotten rid of in 16 months? Of course you don't see it, you don't make much eye contact. You probably don't know what a post pregnancy belly looks like. I forgave her.

"Yes, lots of them." It was the first time she cracked a smile. It was the first time I had to look serious so she could understand I was being literal.

As we sat down at the desk she pulled out a price sheet, but she only covered the month to month rate. She went on to discuss hours of operation and offered us a free trial week. When my sister mentioned she was leaving town for a week, the lady said she would have to talk to her manager about delaying her week until she got back. "oh, is he here?" her response - "no, he doesn't come in until noon. He makes me work the 4am - 12pm shift, it definitely isn't the one I wanted, but what are you going to do. I needed the job." Was this girl for real?

We didn't have many questions at this point but as we were getting ready to leave she said, "I know you probably don't want to pay this, but my boss says I have to mention this other option . . . " and she went into a quick spiel about the year up front rate. HELLO, this is your idea of customer service? Do we look broke or something? We are the perfect people to talk to about this option. We pay for our car insurance a year at a time to knock a hundred bucks off the policy. We crunch our budgets to pay off our cars within the first two years to avoid interest, and that is only if we didn't have the cash to pay up front. We exchanged glances again, shook her hand, and exited the building.

After we laughed our way to the car we realized this is exactly why our brother joined this gym. They obviously don't bother you, don't up sell you, and leave you to work out in peace.

. . . We are going back next week to sign up :)

- Sara

Shhh!!!! It's a secret!!

I might as well confess here first.

Here it is -

I can't believe I am going down this road.

But . . .

I applied for a job. No really, I did. I had my second interview this morning at 8:30 AM.

If I get the job and tell my friends and family, they are going to be shocked. It has been my goal to become a stay at home mom for as long as I can remember. However, the circumstances seem right to reenter the work force. The stars are lined up and pointing me in that direction.

The decision was made mostly because it won't be a huge change for the household. Believe it or not I found a job where I can work a 24 hour work week and still be with my kids nearly as much as I am currently with them.

It is a graveyard shift Thursday through Saturday nights. It means I can't sleep with my babies anymore, but the time was right to move on to the bedroom stage. Last Sunday we moved the baby into his brother's room. The transition went so smoothly I cried when he didn't put up more of a fuss for me. Next I had to worry about how and when to get my sleep. Since MomBFF already watches the babies one school day while I volunteer, she has agreed to switch to watching them on Fridays so I can sleep during the school day. This does mean I will either have to give up the volunteering or add another morning away from my babies. I wouldn't be starting work until the end of February, so I have a while to decide. The other con is finding time to sleep during the weekend, but with Ryan home during those times, I don't mind sleeping in or taking a cat nap while he gets more dad time.

I am super excited. I have been tossing around the idea of this particular job since summer, but didn't see it as a possibility until now. As weird as it may sound, the motivation isn't even the money. I am not crazy - the extra money is going to be wonderful. I plan on throwing half my paycheck at the mortgage and using the other half towards kid activities and my shopping habit. My motivation is getting out of a rut.

Even though I have considered myself a stay at home mom for over three years, technically, I have always worked a few hours a week. I was teaching dance a few hours a week during the last two pregnancies. After I hung up the dance shoes, I began babysitting two days a week for mad money. I am considering this my new "non-mommy" adventure. I hope it works out.

-Sara

Swoosher Girl All the Way!!!

Have you ever heard the expression, "Remember, he puts his pants on one leg at a time, just like everyone else."? It usually comes into conversation to prove everyone is human. But what about us women? Some of us don't even wear pants all the time. What should our saying be? We can't even say, "Well just remember, Britney Spears puts her panties on one leg at a time just like the rest of us." Yes, you know what I mean . . .

What about bras?

My bra saying journey began when my ex-MIL (mother in law) had surgery on her shoulder. She came out fully recovered with one slight drawback. She is no longer able to lift her arm as high as she once could. Her biggest complaint? She could no longer fasten her bra. WHAT!?! How ridiculous! You put your bra on by placing the cups in back, upside down, so you can clasp it in front of you. Then you swoosh it around, pull it up nicely to secure those lovely boulders, and finally take special care to make sure each is positioned for maximum effect. EVERYONE knows that!

Right?

As it turns out, NO! I know, pick your jaw up off the keyboard. I was completely shocked as well. My eyes were opened to an entire world of "behind the back"ers. These ladies are quite talented. They throw that puppy right on the front and do a two handed clasping feat behind their own back. Yes, they seriously do! Who ever knew? I was so excited about my new found knowledge, I simply had to share it with anyone who would listen. Turns out, they are more prominent in society than anyone could have ever guessed. Some of these individuals were even MORE shocked to hear there was a less strenuous method. I converted quite a few of those poor souls who had suffered years of sprained wrists and pulled shoulder ligaments.

You might think it stops there, but it gets even BETTER! There is yet another group of chicks who leave the thing clasped and pull it right over their head like a common tank top maneuver. After much research on this particular method, and nearly fatally injuring my precious resources, I have realized this option should be left to the smaller chested, like my #1 BFF :)

Now that I feel like a brassiere connoisseur, I have a question for you. Are you a swoosher, a behind the backer, or an over the topper? Or do you have a method all your own? Let the world know, it makes us special.

Aren't you glad we aren't like those silly men? Only one way to put on a jock strap . . . one leg at a time . . . just like all the rest.

- Sara