ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

I'm SUPER loopy, because I was up until about 1:45 a.m. last night working on worky stuff, and up again at the crack of dawn to head to a meeting in Arlington, VA. And I'm on the rag. Sooooo, ~ 3 hours of sleep plus stress plus fresh hormones, and this will be a slap-dash and likely nonsensical set of updates.

1) Finn's Kindergarten situation: This turned out to be much ado about nothing, as Finn is NOT moving to the newly created Kindergarten classroom. He is staying with his original teacher, as is his best friend. Plus he's been doing very well behavior-wise lately, and brought home an excellent report card last week. I will say that I did meet the new Kindergarten teacher, and heard how the transition for the kids moving would occur, and I was very reassured. She was lovely and positive and nice the way, magically, all Kindergarten teachers are (though I did question her choice to wear leggings as pants when meeting a large majority of the Kindergarten parents - coming from a person who has done this herself, but never in a "professional" setting, so...). The transition plan was thorough, and I would have been OK if Finn had been selected to change classrooms. But he was not, so there you go. And the upside is that his class size went from 28 to 23, so it's really a win/win for everyone.

2) Finn has his first loose tooth!!!!! And also, his first adult tooth. Which has started coming up through his gums behind the loose tooth, before it has fallen out. Blerg. I'm encouraging him to wiggle his tooth to make it more inclined to fall out, though M. thinks I'm crazy. But I don't want us to be faced with the possibility of Finn having to have a tooth pulled by the dentist if this thing doesn't come out on it's own, so wiggle encouragement it is. I need to lay in a stash of quarters and/or crisp dollar bills. I asked Facebook to tell me what the Tooth Fairy brings these days, but mainly got answers that I find unacceptable (i.e., too spendy). I'm pretty sure our Tooth Fairy brings $1 a tooth - that's my story, and I'm sticking to it.

3) I signed up for Weight Watchers, again. Online only, not the in-person meetings. Things are getting desperate. Too many cupcakes and too little restraint. I also signed myself up for a 5K in April. I'm turning this ship around, stat! First "weigh-in" (aka me stepping on my bathroom scale) is tomorrow. Pretty sure the wine I had tonight and the potato chips DARPA served me today won't help, but at least I was a good girl the rest of the week. Which really just means I was good on Monday and Tuesday, since I didn't sign up until after the debauchery of this past weekend. I could have used Monday as my weigh-in day, but wanted to pick Thursday instead because strategically it's a much better day. You can let loose over the weekend [to a degree], and then still have plenty of time to walk the straight and narrow during the work week before the weigh-in.

I'd write more, but I'm beyond tired and going to bed now. It's a pitiful amount of updates, just three - not even sure why I numbered it, since you can barely even call it a list. But something is better than nothing, right?

Update to my updates: It is now Thursday morning, and since I've had some sleep (yay!), my mind is clear enough to remind me that I wanted to show you a photo of how Finn looked yesterday when he came home from participating in his after-school program's "Crazy Hair Club":

We get to look forward to similar such creations every Monday and Wednesday for the rest of the month. His hair was SO STIFF. He loved it. Cutie.

Also, I was down 5 pounds from Monday at my "weigh-in" (still can't take it seriously when it's just on my bathroom scale - I  feel like I need the technology and audience and sheer scale from the Biggest Loser weigh-ins) this morning. Pretty sure the pre-period water retention and salty Sunday Super Bowl food had a lot to do with that, but I'm taking it as a win anyway!

Weekend(s) Update

Some things, some photos:

1) I tried my very first Zumba class ever this past Friday. I've been tired of jogging (and thus, haven't been doing it), and looking for some new activities to supplement/take its place. Zumba is something I've wanted to try for a while - I like music, I like dancing, and this combines both of those with calorie-burning purpose. During the class, there was little to no instruction, just a solid hour of me doing my best to watch the instructor and make my arms and legs do what her arms and legs were doing. I was only semi-successful. I'm sure I looked unhappy the whole time, but it was really just my intense concentration on attempting some form of coordinated movement. I liked it, but it kicked my butt. Also, with the exception of one other person, I was the youngest participant by at least 15 years. And I ain't no spring chicken anymore - in fact, my half birthday was yesterday (come on, it's a thing), putting me officially closer to 36 than 35 (and also closer to 40, and also death).

2) I may have neglected to mention that I downgraded my Weight Watcher's membership several months ago... not because I achieved GOAL WEIGHT, but because I just wasn't going, and it seemed a waste of $40 a month. Well, this weekend, I signed back up again, and today I attended my first WW meeting (I tell the kids they are my "learning how to be healthy" classes) in at least 6 months. It is needed. I have fallen WAY off the "eating responsibly" bandwagon. I'm trying a new meeting day and time, because my last one was at 8:45 on Saturday mornings, and after a while, lounging around drinking coffee began to win out over getting dressed and scooting out the door to step on a scale in front of someone. We'll see how it goes. As with the Zumba class, I was younger than most of the participants by a LOT. I may not find a new "couple" or "mom" friend among the group, but I'd probably do well if I was in the market for a bridge partner.

Also, there was a man in a kilt there.

Side note: I must say, I still tend to feel "young" a lot in general. When will that stop? I've been with my office for almost 7 years, and yet a lot of times I still feel like a kid fresh out of grad school in the eyes of others. I'm not the youngest, but I FEEL that way a lot. Will that ever end?

3) In a final fitness-related note, I bought a copy of Jillian Anderson's 30-day shred - in fact, I ordered it the same day I re-signed up with Weight Watcher's, the morning after I spent a couple of uncomfortable hours in my "but these just fit me a couple of months ago, I swear" jeans. I previewed it this morning, because Finn insisted he wanted to try it (he saw the DVD cover in the kitchen, and when I evaded his questions about the midriff-baring photo on it by telling him it was a workout video to help me "get stronger so I can do more fun stuff with you," he became obsessed with doing it himself). He begged to watch it at 8 am, and since I hadn't had even a drop of coffee yet, I put it on and let him go it alone. He did pretty well, actually, though his form could use some improvement :-). Lucy was there, too, but dropped off to go color after about 3 minutes. Smart girl. Dude, I wish I had the stamina of a nearly 6-year-old. M. and I did the workout tonight after the kids were in bed (yes, I am making M. do this with me - he's been complaining of so many aches and pains that his old-man-ass clearly needs to work on regaining some core strength and flexibility from his lost youth), and it completely kicked our butts. I'm surprised I'm even able to type this many words, as all of my arm muscles are exhausted. I guess the finger muscles are not a target in level one.

The gist is that it's a 20-minute workout that you can do with only a set of small arm weights. My thinking was, if I can't fit in 20 minutes to workout, something is wrong with my lifestyle. But it is called the "30-Day Shred," so I'm guessing that I'm supposed to actually do this every day for a month. Wish me luck - I have a feeling that Days 2 and 3 are going to be excrutiating.

4) We went apple-picking last weekend:

5) We also bought an inflatable bounce house. Perhaps not the most practical purchase for a family with a postage stamp-sized backyard, but we did it anyway. Why, you may ask? In our area (probably in LOTS of areas), we have been invaded by a number of inflatable bounce house businesses. These places are all the rage with the 8 or 9 and younger crowd for birthday parties - we have been to at least 10 in the last 2 years. They are all pretty similar - two separate rooms with different things you can bounce in/climb on, plus a couple of party rooms for pizza and cake. Finn and Lucy have both begged at various times to have birthday parties at one of these places. The catch? They are over $300 a pop for a 2-hour party, and that does NOT include the pizza and cake.

Um, no.

So for $199, we bought our own bounce house. One that we can use as many times as we want (or until the kids break it).

Finn DOES have a birthday coming up (my baby! Is turning 6!), so we will hopefully use it during his party. Though my track record with weather and outdoor parties is terrible. But the nice thing is that this is a gift for BOTH kids, and even better? It actually ENTERTAINS both of them. For a REALLY, REALLY long time. It's a total jackpot. Yesterday M. and I sat outside on our patio and watched the two of them bounce for nearly two hours, while we drank Octoberfest beer, read, listened to music, and did other generally adult things. There was some minor policing of conflict, but all in all, a relaxing way to spend an afternoon.

And now we have lots and lots of pictures that look like minor variations on this:

I've already written more and stayed up later than I intended to. Time to get these sore muscles off to bed!

(Worry) Warts and All

I haven't posted anything of SUBSTANCE lately. Weekend activities and remodeling and photos aren't exactly deep subjects, I know. But they are EASY. I don't have to think about what to share, or struggle with wording. Some bloggers, they have this wonderful ability to capture the essence of life (the good and the bad) so perfectly with their words - it can be a bit daunting.

But I don't want to just share glossy events and photos that only scratch at the surface here; I want this site to reflect our lives. So fuck the intimidation of "writing" life - here are some of my thoughts on how things are going lately.

1. Finn. I worry about this kid EVERY DAY. I worry he isn't fitting in at school. He comes home with all these stories about how the other kids won't throw him the football when he plays with them, that his "best friend" from his class didn't pick him for something special, that our neighbor won't play with him, that other kids won't play with him... just about every day there is a new frustration for him to share. This extends beyond the social realm, to just about EVERYTHING - every time I ask Finn about how his day went, he has a complaint for me. He didn't get to play on the big playground today. He didn't get a chance to use the computers today. He was sad when M. dropped him off in the morning. He wanted to tie-dye a T-shirt at the after school care program but couldn't because Gah, Mom, YOU DIDN'T SEND IN A SHIRT FOR ME. This kid never has anything positive to say, EVER. And he can't be THAT unhappy - he isn't trying to convince me he needs to stay home from school, he's not acting depressed or really any differently than usual. He is just SUCH a complainer. I worry he is destined to be unhappy, because he WANTS to be unhappy. How do you teach a kid to focus on the good stuff in life, rather than the bad? Is this something he has learned from me?

On top of that, I worry that he isn't paying attention at school. Well, I KNOW he isn't paying attention that well at school, so mostly I worry about whether he ever WILL pay attention, or whether he has a lifetime of bad behavior reports coming his way. According to Finn's teacher he "needs a lot of redirection," and "sometimes Finn just does what Finn wants to do." SHE's not concerned, but I AM. She thinks he is just bored because they spend a lot of time setting the stage and reiterating rules at the beginning of the year, and that it will get better for him as things get more challenging. And he TELLS me that he thinks everything is boring, so maybe there's some truth to that. But I know him - there have always been things that interest him, and he pays attention/does what he's told because he WANTS to. And there are other things that interest him less, or times when he thinks he has a better idea of what to do. And that's when he does whatever he damn well pleases. And I don't think that is going to change (maybe ever? I write despairingly?). There will always be things that he doesn't want to do, or things that he REALLY wants to do even though he SHOULDN'T, and good luck to the grown-up that tries to get him to tow the line. It just doesn't happen. My child appears to be missing that "fear of authority/respect for people in positions of authority" character trait. There are other kids who have never gotten worse than a "green" on the behavior chart, or easily win a blue every day (this Kindergarten follows a blue-green-yellow-red behavior rating system, where blue is akin to "exceeded expectations", green is "good", yellow is "warning", and red is... I don't know what, but something bad). My kid has had a red, two yellows, and just one green this week alone (so far).

He probably will never be the child that gets a "blue" every day. And I think the problem is that I WANT him to be the child that gets a blue every day. I see it as a flaw that he can't. And that bothers me. Who wants to think of their child as flawed? Or unfixable?

Or maybe he doesn't need to be fixed, and this is all "normal." And I just worry too much.

But at least now you know what I'm worrying about.

2. Lucy. I don't have any worries about Lucy. She occasionally throws a fit, but is generally easily distracted from it. Her most annoying traits are: A. a reluctance to let me brush her hair, and B. her insistence that she wear "swirly" dresses and skirts every day (a "swirly" dress will billow out when she spins around). Which eliminates most of her adorable, fashionable wardrobe. She is three, but a fairly mild three.

Though sometimes I worry that she's getting the short end of the stick, because her brother ends up grabbing more of my mental attention (though not physical - I do still spend more time with her, because she still has some "Mommy" preferences).

3. Siblings. Another thing I don't have to worry about. My kids generally get along (with minor squabbles), and genuinely seem to enjoy each other's company. So much so that they have devised a plan to marry each other when they are older. It involves a mythical situation where Lucy will be in a line of girls looking to get married (at the mall, of course), and Finn is there, and secretly they will have arranged that Finn will pick HER for his bride. Because bachelorettes often line up at the mall and wait for potential suitors to propose, right? But SHHH, this is a secret plan, don't tell Finn and Lucy I told you.

We've gently tried explaining that brothers and sisters can't marry each other, but it hasn't gone over terribly well. We'll wait until their a bit older to tell them about the mal effects of inbreeding in genetic terms.

4. Fitness. Blah. This I worry about. I am not happy with either my fitness (as in, it is quite poor these days) or my weight. It is affecting some of my general happiness/positive outlook, and probably making me over-react in other areas of life (see: Finn, above). I'm bored with running, and haven't been doing it, but still eating like I am. It hasn't been good for the waistline. And I hate that it bothers me, but it does. So.

Hmmm. Pretty sure Finn comes by all his complaining honestly.

I'm just going to end it there, so I can spend a few moments focusing my attention on my beleaguered husband, who has to put up with all my worrying, which he does WELL.

Positive Thinking

It was supposed to be the perfect plan. Sign up for a 5-mile race to be run the week before we leave for our Florida vacation, train for it, and be in fabulous shape when it's time to don all those shorts and tank tops. It shouldn't have been hard - I've been slogging away at the jogging over this past winter, if not regularly, at least sporadically. By late May, I should be able to run 5 miles in my sleep, right?

Well.

I kept thinking I had plenty of time, until eventually I didn't.

I had other things to do, like baking and frosting cakes.

Could I have licked my fingers less? Probably.

Could I have run a little more? Definitely.

Luckily (I think), my vacation will be spent with many, many little kids in search of a human-sized mouse, and I don't really need to impress anyone with my bathing-suited figure. But I WOULD like to do a decent job during this race. And I WOULD like to resume feeling satisfied with my, erm, physical status. Not weight or appearance, really... except yes, that's what I mean. How I look, AND how I feel. I don't want to backpedal in how far I've come in the past two years. I want firmness in my limbs. I want to go for a run and not feel obliterated. I want to maintain my weight loss so far, and get a little bit farther.

Will I be satisfied, when I get a little bit farther?

When my kids squeeze my various body parts (which they ALWAYS do, no matter how many boundaries I try to set), I make a conscious effort not to recoil. I stand my ground, I smile, I make sure they know that while yes, this touching may be inappropriate (butts are not for touching, kid. No matter how much I want to pat yours), I am OKAY with everything they are feeling. Those lumps and soft parts and jiggly bits? Totally normal. I do that now, and I did that when I was 25 pounds heavier. I want my kids to think (to know) that there is no one body type that is better.

I believe that is true, intellectually. My body? Perfectly normal. My body 25 pounds heavier? Also perfectly normal. And yet emotionally, I can't get there. Why can't I do with my husband what I do with my kids? Is there a point where I will accept that when he (very appropriately) grabs my various body parts, they feel perfectly normal and OKAY? If I lose 10 more pounds, will I feel OK then?

I am disappointed with myself lately. Too many indulgences, and not enough discipline. I feel like a quitter, like a loser. Which I KNOW is stupid.

So this week, I want to focus on what I LIKE about myself. Including my body. And I'll start with this post. So please excuse me, I'm just going to step over here and compliment myself:

I always thought that my mom had beautiful hands. I think I have her hands.

I have a great smile.

My eyes are more than a little smashing. Especially when I wear mascara.

My hair may not be the thickest, but it's a nice, completely un-grey, natural color.

I have delicate wrists.

I can rock the shit out of a sexy top. It's all in the collarbones and shoulders.

I didn't get any stretch marks from my two pregnancies.

I have eyebrows I barely need to pluck.

*I* like my nose. You (and when I say you, I don't mean you, of course) may not, but I do.

If you play the right music, I WILL shake my booty. And I will enjoy it.

I can run faster and farther now than I could in high school.

I am beautiful.

How about you? What do you like about your body? How do you try to embody high self esteem for your kids (and yourself)?

I Don't Even Know Where to Begin to Create a Title for This

I have many thoughts that all seem like they could be blossomed into real, actual blog posts. I half-compose them in my head, usually in the car or while I'm running. But I am lazy. And I forget that perfect wording that is only perfect when I have no way of writing it down. But mostly I'm lazy. So instead of several distinct blog posts, you get the following instead:

Things I like, lately - not things I was paid to write about. Because lord knows nobody pays me to write on this blog:

1. Bota Box Wines. Dude, yes, boxed wine. I can't believe I'm even writing it. And I know what you're thinking. I, like many of you I imagine, had a few shameful experiences in college and grad school with Franzia (or as my mom liked to call it, "pink shit"). Perhaps even, gasp, Almaden. I try not to talk about it unless I'm in the safe company of my fellow girlfriends who, as I did, likely also drank their fair share of Boone's Fine Wine, Woodchuck, Zima, and other oh-my-god-they're-so-sweet-how-were-we-able-to-drink-enough-to-get-drunk fluffy alcholic beverages. I've matured since those days, I think. I've been to Napa and Sonoma and lots of other regional wineries, I've sniffed and swirled and developed my own personal preferences for wine.

And yet here I am, drinking boxed wine. As I type, in fact.

Listen, M. and I are trying to save money, you know? As I've documented a bit (here's where I would link to some posts a few weeks ago, but I'm too lazy), we are replacing/have recently replaced HVAC systems and windows and woodwork and carpeting and dining room furniture. And only half of those expenses were planned for. Have I mentioned how much I love being a homeowner lately? Oh, right, that's because it's been sucking my will to live. Anyway, so we're looking to cut back on expenses. Wine, shopping (the kind where you just kind of buy stuff blindly without budgeting/paying attention), and eating out are the major areas we've targeted for reduction. But we're not giving them up completely. I need my wine. Yes I do.

Enter boxed wine. But not just ANY boxed wine. Red wine only (apparently white boxed wine hasn't come as far as red boxed wine). And trust me, it's GOOD. Several of the varietals have 90+ points, which I think means something good. They've won awards. Their boxes say so. Granted, I have no idea what those awards mean, but come on, it means Something, right?

So try it. It's good. And feel free to share your favorite budget beverages in the comments.

2. St. Ives Naturally Clear Green Tea Scrub. This is the perfect facial cleanser. PERFECT. It exfoliates. And not like the apricot scrub, where it feels like you're rubbing two or three microbeads over your entire face and maybe flaking off five cells of dead skin. This is like fine grains of sand throughout the entire product that gets rid of all the yucky stuff (gently, of course). It has 1% salicylic acid, for those like me who sometimes have to battle both wrinkles and acne (and I thought life wasn't fair when I was a teenager, amiright?). And, AND, it will also remove my eye makeup. Other scrubs have me looking like a raccoon when I leave the shower. Game, set, and match.

OK, that's it for things I like lately. There may be more, but I can't remember them right now. Onto to other matters.

3. (I'm going to keep numbering here just so you can see exactly where I completely change my train of thought. This is no longer in any way a list of any sort.) Potty training snippet: I call this "You win some, you lose some."

Lucy stayed dry all day Saturday, even during naptime. Win.

She then peed on the kitchen floor Sunday at around 9 am. She was pretty happy about it. Loss.

Later that night, at around 12:30 a.m., Lucy woke up crying and calling out that she needed to go pee. Which she subsequently did once M. carried her to the bathroom. Her pull-up was dry, but it was 12:30 a.m. Win?

4. I mentioned long ago that I joined Weight Watchers (eh, look through the January archives, says lazy blogwriter), and I haven't really written much about how it's been going. Frankly, I haven't really wanted to write what might be considered to be bragging, or fishing for compliments. Because for a while, it was really, really working. But lately, it's been harder, and I've been contemplating writing a little bit about the struggles I've been having with weight loss (namely, that it hasn't been happening). Lots of boring navel-gazing about why I can no longer commit to working the Weight Watchers system the way I was a few months ago, how to get reinvigorated, what to do to kick start my exercise which has been getting a little boring... But instead I'm going to tell you that yesterday I went shopping for some new work clothes. And, bragging be damned, I bought a size 8 dress. SIZE 8. Yes, it was stretch material. Yes, it was from Target, which is not known for having sizes that run small. Yes, I know that I am NOT a size 8, not really. But I look GOOD in that dress. I am going to wear the shit out of that dress, if only because I don't think I have ever, ever worn a size 8 ANYTHING. And that, right there, is motivation enough to get back on this god-damned weightloss wagon. I will make my weight loss goal, come hell or high water.

OK, I'm going to end now. I've also been percolating a post on religion, and how I'm totally unprepared to answer Finn's questions on God and Jesus, which have been coming fast and furious around here lately (SOMEONE at school - ahem, Casey? - seems to know a LOT, and REALLY wants to share all of her 4-year-old wisdom). But that's likely too weighty a topic to handle flippantly/quickly, so I'll leave it off this "non-list" and continue contemplating an actual post on it. Or not. We'll see. For now, I leave you with a link to the best song being played on the radio right now, the one that had me singing like Jessica Simpson (have you seen the facial expressions she makes while she sings? Have you? I had M. do a quick search to find a picture for me to use to demonstrate this, but he couldn't find one that did it justice quickly. He did, however, find a Facebook group called "Jessica Simpson looks really ugly when she sings." I'm not going to say ugly, but man, it's intense) in the car this afternoon, with grandiose, emo hand motions and everything. My right hand? Was clenched in front of my chest. Purposefully. I was PERFORMING for I-270, let me tell you. Needless to say, this song rocks. I want to be Adele. It's my secret talent-I-always-wished-I-had (singing awesomely, not being Adele specifically). And officially number 5 on my non-list.

5.

These Things Are In No Way Related

Yet another random assortment of thoughts and stories. In an ideal world, this would be a coherently crafted literary masterpiece, I suppose. But at least by numbering my paragraphs, I'm acknowledging that there is no transition possible that will make them the slightest bit cohesive.

1. In a cruel move toward solidifying her "non-baby" status, we forced Lucy to give up the pacifier this weekend. For no other reason than the theory that if we waited longer, it would be harder. And so far, it is going swimmingly. She asked for it once, before nap time on Saturday (she said nothing on Friday night, when we began the venture). I explained that pacifiers are for babies only, and Lucy is a big girl. There was a lot of reiterating "Baby paci" from Lucy, and my affirming response "Yes, paci's are for babies, Lucy is a big girl, no more paci's for Lucy." She seemed to accept it, as she hasn't mentioned it since. She needed to be rocked to sleep the first few times, but last night managed to get herself to sleep. There has been shockingly little angst and zero panicky build-up, and yet again I thank my lucky stars for my go-with-the-flow child. Who, for the record, I still call "Baby" every day.

2. For those interested, a quick update on my progress with Weight Watchers. I've been a member for just over two weeks now, and I've managed to lose 5 pounds. I am cautiously optimistic; if my weight were a monster truck, it would likely be called The Fluctuator (reference best understood by those well-acquainted with small boy children). Regardless, I know that I could be up again next time I step on the scale, but it's a two-week trend in the right direction. We'll see if it holds. I'm finding the program easier to work with now that I'm familiar with it, and the success I've had makes it easier not to go overboard with cheating. In fact, the way the plan works, I haven't actually had to "cheat" once. This includes the bottles of wine M. and I have split on occasion, and the two cannolis the family shared this past Saturday. The plan allows you to splurge - I just try to keep those splurges to the first half of my week, and not near each fateful weigh-in appointment. I think it also helps that I have been extremely busy at work lately - I'm too busy typing or running from meeting to meeting to snack constantly or consider chewing my arm off from hunger. My weakness is eating in front of the computer, and so far I have been able to exert some control over this habit.

3. Friday I was rear-ended on my way in to work. It was sucky in some respects - I was delayed an hour getting in to work, and now I have to deal with the hassle of getting the car repaired and getting reimbursed by someone else's insurance. On the other hand, there is less damage to the car than the last time I was rear-ended - which, by the way, involved the same car (of mine, anyway - thank goodness for my plastic Saturn), and the exact same spot (exiting the highway by work), about three and a half years ago. This time, I didn't have any children with me (the first time, I had an 11-month-old Finn with me), and the car that hit me was able to drive away(not the case the first time). The other bonus was less tangible, but better. I spent much of Thursday evening with the kids screaming my head off. It was like a runaway train that couldn't be stopped. They both did things that aggravated the crap out of me (ran out into the parking lot without me - they are fast!; Finn lied; Lucy threw shit on the ground during dinner; etc). None of it was a new challenge, but I lost my head - once I started yelling, I couldn't stop. And it carried over into Friday morning, where I called Finn a jerk for the way he talked to me, among other things. Not nice, even if it was true. (On a side note: Oh, the whining. When does it fracking stop? Ever?) I felt like a horrible mother, and by 7:45 am on Friday, I was already having a horrible day. Getting into a car accident helped me reset. It was like the day had taken such a turn that I couldn't help but have more patience, especially with my kids. It led us right into a pretty darn good weekend, assisted in great part by my lack of yelling and reserved stores of tolerance for repeating the same instructions over and over again. Which, once Finn began to respond to my improved attitude, I really didn't have to trot out after a while.

4. M. has just informed me that he is still unable to tell which one is Bert, and which one is Ernie. WTF? Everyone knows that Bert is the long thin one with the eyebrows (and the pigeon fixation), while Ernie is the short round one with a duck fetish.

5. Pictures, for the family:
Blue eyes

Winter 2011's Snowman

Some serious Angry Bird-playing going on here.

Lucy has taken to stealing the camera, turning it on, and taking pictures. Here, a self portrait.

M. and Finn work on some literary skills at the chalkboard.

The kids just started swim lessons again (after a 10-month hiatus). This time, they have to wear swim caps. I'm sure the swim school meant that the caps should be worn in the water, but in our house, they're much more of an "everyday accessory."

For both kids.

M. and Finn made wheat bread on Sunday, dragging our breadmaker wedding gift out of hibernation from the top of the refrigerator, where it had been living untouched for several months.

Finn greatly enjoyed monitoring how high the dough rose before cooking.

Lucy mugs for the camera.

Finn eats the fruit of his labor (on the couch, to the dismay of the couch. And me.).

Lucy demonstrates her undying affection for our demon cat Macy.

Rumblings

I meant to sit down and blog at least 5 different times over the last week. I even did, once - wrote a couple hundred words about the strange things we say as parents, before I decided that the post was heading toward Crapville. If I was a better writer with a better memory for detail, I'm sure I could have pulled it off, but I just wasn't able to capture the intricacies and convolutions of pre-schooler speak. An excerpt, as the post is likely never to be published at this point:

On the way home from school yesterday, Finn explained how one of his classmates' mom came in to tell the class about her job. From this - "she does science and works with police officers to catch bad guys and showed us our finger wrinkles and then we dipped our fingers in chocolate syrup and dotted the paper" - I managed to deduce that the parent in question is a forensic scientist, and she tried teaching the kids about fingerprints (and had them make their own fingerprints using chocolate syrup).

What followed was a twisty-turny conversation regarding the criminal justice system that somehow ended with me advising Finn that no, it's not OK for policemen to shoot your pet. How we got there is still a bit of a mystery to me.

I also meant to tell you that I joined Weight Watchers this past Saturday. But the hunger kept consuming my thoughts to the point where nothing interesting could be blarfed out onto Blogger. Seriously, I have been hungry. Which you're not supposed to be, apparently - their program is supposed to be very "satisfying." But I'm still in the Learning How to Eat and Track Points Plus phase, so I have been conservative and perhaps erred a bit too much on the side of Foods Without Flavor. Because Flavor (usually) = Fat. So every meal I eat leaves me wanting to eat something else/more. I finally allowed myself to have a glass of wine tonight (well, two, actually), but I didn't enjoy it. MUCH. I kept thinking of the damned points. This will get easier, right? Right? I joined mainly because I completely failed at my attempt to diet by tracking calories (it just requires such COMMITMENT) and determined that I needed to be guilted into tracking my food intake by actually paying money and being forced to get on a scale, in front of PEOPLE, every week. And also because my sister has had amazing success with the program.

In other news, M. was out of town for a couple of nights. It's only really news because over the last year and a half he hasn't been traveling much for work. It really made me appreciate how much it helps to have him around in the morning, even though he leaves for an early train about 20 minutes before the kids and I get out of the house (most days). He usually stays long enough to help dress one kid and get them both downstairs. Corraling these two kids into clothes, making Finn pee, making both kids brush their teeth, feeding them each a snack, chasing them down to put on coats and shoes... probably falls under the "no shit" category, but it is infinitely easier with two ringmasters. Especially since Lucy delights in doing the exact opposite of everything I ask of her (for example, running away when I ask her to come over to me to get in her coat). And Finn, while he doesn't do the opposite, argues and argues and argues. I kid you not, in the morning, his voice is made of pure whine. WHINE. The kid is a class A grump when he wakes up, always has been. M. claims that he gets this from me. Though in my defense, I usually get up from bed much more easily then M. does. I just don't have appreciation for any kind of humor or flirty behavior AT ALL. Who wants to get handsy at 6 am before they've even had coffee, forgodssake?

Where was I? Oh, yes, M. was out of town. And though I was out of practice, it was fine. I remember how panicky I used to feel when Finn was a wee babe, and then when Lucy was a baby (and with good reason, there were some traumatic solo parenting experiences, all of which involved a reflux-y baby), and now it's all just FINE. I wasn't the slightest bit worried, even though I was on my own starting at around 2 pm on Sunday (the dreaded single parenting on a weekend when there is no DAYCARE!). Yes, things took a little longer, occasionally I yelled a little more, but we did fine. I cooked actual meals, and gave baths, and handled a 12 am wake up, and we all got to school and work at appropriate times. I even took both kids out in the snow on Sunday to go sledding by myself - wrangled them both into their snow gear and pulled their collective 65-pound weight all over the damned place in our blue plastic sled. And though I felt at times as though I might keel over from the exertion, we all had fun. Success!

And now M. is back, despite dire weather situations practically everywhere (yay!). And I am off to bed, lest I find myself idle and fixated on what kind of stupid diet food I will eat during this Sunday's Super Bowl. Oh pizza, I miss you!

Election Night Gumbo

OK, a few random housekeeping and rant-y items:

1. Regarding my search for meatless "meat" products - thank you all for your suggestions. I believe I am on my way to a solution, at least with regard to veggie sausage products. Just tonight I tried the Trader Joe's brand of Italian meatless sausages, and I was quite impressed. The texture was not rubbery, and the flavor was good. They look like complete yuck before cooking (really, really pale), but cooking them in a skillet with some oil gave them a nice color. All in all, I was quite happy with them - it's just unfortunate that I can only by them at Trader Joe's. I have also bought some TJ's meatless Chorizo to try out this week, and will likely check out the other suggestions as well. But my anxiety over this issue is already easing, thankfully. I still have no good solutions for the veggie hot dog problem, though...

2. Let's talk shoes for a moment. Specifically, toddler girl shoes. Oh my lord in heaven, are they freakin' expensive or what?!?! My little girl has been blessed with tiny, thick feet (with her 85% growth rate, this makes her look a bit like a Geisha girl - minus the blond hair of course - as she totters around on teeny feet). Extra wide shoes are just no where to be found, except online in two places: 1) Stride Rite - and they basically have sneakers only, one pair of which we have already purchased; and 2) Zappos.com - plenty of Mary Jane style shoes, some even available in the small size 4/5 Lucy sports, but they range in price from $36 (only those on sale) up to nearly $60. Gasp! I feel guilty spending that much on myself for shoes, and I usually wear shoes for at least 2 years (and some have been hanging on for way longer than that, grossly). Lucy's shoes last tops 4 months. Do you all really buy such expensive shoes for your kids? If not, what do you do instead? Anyone with experience buying extra wide toddler sizes? I plead for help before the holiday season is upon us!

3. My dieting was severely derailed this past weekend, and hasn't fully recovered yet. Which is so, so unfortunate, because after about 2 weeks of dieting I was down about 4 pounds. Now I'm pretty much back at my starting point (can we say YO-YO?). It began with a fundraiser buffet lunch at work - homemade macaroni and cheese, baked beans, desserts, nary a salad in sight... and no way to track calories without some serious effort on my part. I felt compelled to participate because a) it was for a good cause (to raise money to buy holiday gifts for military families in need); and b) M. refused to make my lunch the night before. The binging continued with birthday cake, take-out Thai food, Dunkin' Donuts, appetizers, wine, etc, etc - all in the name of entertaining our guests, but all of which I happily partook of. I'm having trouble getting back on track - the last two days I've started out counting my calories, but by noon I've slipped up and, out of guilt, ceased with the counting. I think part of my lack of will power for this is tied to a lack of exercise - I've only managed to jog about 4 times since my race, though one of those times was a 4 mile jog tonight, so hopefully that will help. I also need to start heading back to the gym during the work day a couple days a week to build up some muscle that will help me burn fat. Sigh.

4. This could fall under "Things That Annoy Me," but I forgot to include it in my list last week. And that is, apparently the Diaper Champ has been redesigned, and in my estimation, it makes for a much poorer diaper pail. Perhaps not the most interesting topic, but I feel that I must go public with this information. Now, we have used the Diaper Champ since Finn was brought home from the hospital, and we have always been very happy with it. First, you can use regular tall trash bags with it, no need to purchase some other wonky bag system. Second, it did a pretty good job keeping in the stink. Keep in mind that no diaper pail is perfect in this regard because toddler poop, it is some nasty smelly stuff. We have always viewed diaper pails as somewhat of a consumable, though - after a little while, an air freshener tucked in the bottom of the pail is necessary to keep the room stink-free. And eventually, it needs to be replaced, as no air freshener in the world is strong enought to contain the smell. I'd say after 4 years of diapers, we had 3 Diaper Champs. And we just bought our 4th two weeks ago. This time, though, it's... changed. First, it's smaller. And the top is different - and the way it has been redesigned basically means you can't throw a dirty diaper in it with one hand - you need two hands, one to open the lid and the other to throw in the stinky diaper you are holding. And worst of all, we christened the brand new DC with a poopy diaper at around 6 pm. By 11 pm that night (Lucy was night-waking at the time), I was ready to gag the moment I walked in her room. One day old, and already stinking! An air freshener has been deployed, and it's helping for the time being, but I fear that the day when we must abandon the Diaper Champ is coming soon. Perhaps this is incentive to potty train Lucy a little early? She already tells me when she has a poopy diaper, after all... (further proof that she is a genius, IMHO).

OK, enough for now. Must keep M. company as he hurls insults and incredulous snorts at the news coverage of the election night.

A New Challenge

I've finished my race, but I haven't finished with running. I'm going to do my best to fight the urge to stay indoors all winter long, and keep up with it. Rather than train for longer distances, though, I'm planning to just try and maintain the running ability I've already gained (though it would be nice if I could maybe run a smidgen faster). Instead, I'm going to try to focus on weight loss for a few months.

Back when I started training for the team relay in February, I was certain that by sheer virtue of being able to run 7 miles by October, I would naturally also lose several pounds and a couple of clothing sizes. Turns out, though, that you can run your ass off, but if you don't also restrict your calories, none of those extra pounds will budge. Go figure.

I did try dieting WHILE training, for a while, which for me means counting my calories. But I just got so darn HUNGRY! It's really hard to contemplate a 4 or 5 mile run when all you can think about is how much you'd like to have a third slice of pizza. So the dieting fell by the wayside in favor of training. Also, it's kind of a pain in the ass to count your calories (or WW points, if that's the method you use). I'm really good on weekdays, especially during the day. I eat pretty much the same thing for breakfast for an entire week, and I eat a lot of frozen entrees and simple snacks. Sitting at my desk at work, I can easily pop online at any time to look up calorie information. It's the evenings and weekends that make calorie-tracking a real chore. I eat what I serve the kids and M. for dinner, which means home-cooked meals (usually). Figuring out amounts of each ingredient, the corresponding number of calories, and how much of the dish I actually eat can involve a lot of math and hunting down information. When I'd really like to be sitting on my rear end watching Modern Family and eating ice cream instead. Then there are the weekends, where we tend to do at least a couple of meals out. Sometimes I can find nutritional information before or after we go to a restaurant online, but that only works for major chains. Everything else requires total guesswork on my part. And you KNOW they are sneaking fat in to places where you would never expect it!

The tracking of calories is important for me. It's like a way of being accountable to myself for everything I eat. Even though I know by now what an appropriate portion size or a poor food choice is, I don't listen to that voice if I'm not in tracking/dieting mode. I know, I know, I shouldn't really be dieting. I should be making a lifestyle change. But for me, for now and probably periodically for the rest of my life, I need to diet. And dieting means a change, a concerted effort into doing something different, something time consuming/habit changing that's really all about me.

This puts me in a dilemma, because I really want my kids to have a healthy outlook on food and body image, to be accepting of all body types. I need to diet, but I don't want Finn and Lucy to KNOW that I'm dieting. I don't want to obsess about food in front of them, or remove all less-than-healthy food choices completely from our house (I try to provide healthy food, but we do allow treats). But it's hard to diet in secret. I think eventually they might start to notice that 5 minutes in to a meal, Mommy has already finished her dinner, but why is she staring fixedly at the uneaten food on our plates? Or that Mommy is sitting out the post-library trip ice cream run, even though she LOVES ice cream. Or that, oh look, it's almost dinner time and Mommy is super crabby, again. Maybe they won't realize that I'm denying myself, that I'm hungry, but maybe they will.

With Finn and Lucy, I emphasize the HEALTHY aspect of food and exercise. We do exercise because it's fun and it makes our bodies strong. We eat fruits and vegetables because they help us grow and keep us feeling good. We talk about how all foods are OK in moderation, but nothing is good for you if you eat a LOT of it. We don't talk about fat or thin, skinny or chubby. I want them to simultaneously pay absolutely no attention to the way other people look (in terms of opinions on what is good or bad), and to be self confident and content with the way they look, whatever that may be. Is that even possible? I hope so. Because I still struggle with my own body image issues, and I'd like to spare them that.

I'd like to not be chubby/overweight/fat/whatever adjective you prefer (see, I even have issues picking the right fat term!). I just don't really want to tell my kids that. Total hypocrite, right?

Looking Up

I wrote number 14 on my last post and meant every word of it - I had a terrible workout on Sunday, could barely run at all, and I felt complete and total frustration that I've been getting nowhere with this whole running/dieting/getting healthier thing. It wasn't just a one-time feeling, either - in general, I don't feel like I'm coming along as well as I'd like to be with my workout goals (or goal, rather, as I have only one - run one quarter of the Baltimore marathon in October as part of a relay team (which includes my boss!!) without making a total ass of myself).

Since then, though, I've had two really great workouts. Tuesday, according to my pedometer, I ran about 3.5 miles, and today, 3.6. I finally seem to be breaking past the 3 mile mark. Not only that, but I had energy for all but the very end of the runs, and managed to stay fairly strong up all the hills. This week, finally, something seems to be clicking. I give at least partial credit to the light weightlifting I've started to incorporate a couple times a week. I do it during the work day, when showering isn't really an option, so I don't really push myself hard enough to work up a sweat. But the leg presses and squats seem to be giving my legs more juice during my runs, and all the arm reps are hopefully (eventually) doing some good from an upper arm vanity standpoint :-).

I'm still not fast (I'm aiming for 12 minute miles when I run the relay - about a 6 mile distance or so - in October). My face often matches the fuschia color of one of my workout shirts. And I'm pretty sure I still frighten young children with my loud breathing. But I'm getting better at this running thing - for the first time since I started doing this back in January, I finally feel like I'm getting better.

And... in two weeks I'm going on vacation. Which I'm sure will interfere with this momentum I'm building. Not only will it be tough to set aside time to work out, but I find that alcohol really affects my workouts. If I have a couple of glasses of wine at night, the next day I struggle (even if it's been almost 24 hours, which it usually has, as I work out at night after the kids are in bed). And while my family may be unpredictable in many ways, I can always count on there being more bottles of wine than people at any given gathering. Not to mention the beer and the scotch and the Bloody Mary's and did I mention the beer? So, yeah, between the food and exhaustion chasing the kids and the drink and the desire to relax, it's going to be tough to keep this up. My strategy is to aim for 2 runs (I don't want to place unreal expectations on myself) - one early on in the vacation, like the first morning, and one more toward the end. Wish me luck!

Dieting is another story. Talk about treading water and getting nowhere. I was convinced, back in January, that I'd EASILY be down at least 20 pounds by the time this vacation rolled around. Instead, I've managed to lose 5-8 pounds, depending on the day (what is UP with that?). EVEN THOUGH I've been killing myself with these workouts. And quite often, tracking every little calorie that enters my mouth, trying my best to stick to around 1500 calories a day. But there are only so many days in a row I can keep that up, and then I cheat, and POOF! Just like that, the weight comes back in a mere nanosecond.

Rather than dwell on that (and I really try not to, as I don't want to pass on a weight/appearance fixation to my kids), I'm going to focus instead on inspiration for my work out regimen, for getting healthier. I am absolutely loving the new iPod Touch I got for Mother's Day - it makes my runs and my time at the gym much more enjoyable. But I'm starting to get a bit tired of my running playlist - time to go shopping on iTunes and shake things up a bit. What are your favorite songs to work out to, the ones that give you a little boost when you're contemplating quitting?

T.G.I.M.?

Ways in which this past weekend was the opposite of fun, in rough order of occurrence:

1. I discovered what looked like large chunks of greyish meat in my Thai food Friday night. M. swore up and down that he specifically asked for the vegetarian suki stir fry when he placed the order. An angry phone call from M. and delivery of a freshly cooked dish directly to our house yielded... another container of food with large chunks of greyish meat. Turns out the dish had non-advertized "mock duck" as one of its ingredients, a food that is about as appetizing as it sounds. The experience left me with a distinct guilt that we made the restaurant folks come out to our house for no real reason, and validation of my aversion for "mock duck." Yuck.

2. Finn woke up at 5:45 am on Saturday. For the day. He insisted that it was, in fact, at least 6:30 already and clearly time to get up. I sent M. down, and huddled in bed until Lucy woke up at 7:15, convinced that if I went downstairs to deal with Finn, I would end up hurling his useless clock into the woods. Or setting it on fire. I don't deal well with unjustified sleep interruptions.

3. Lucy woke up crabby, crabby, crabby on Saturday. We were weaning her off of her reflux meds, and her crabbiness and refusal to eat breakfast flew us into panicky conversations of "Do you think it's reflux? Should we put her back on the meds? Good lord, WHY ISN'T SHE EATING HER MUFFIN!?!" Ugh. Then she fell asleep on the way to Target, and we realized she was just really tired. I actually carried her around Target (in and out of elevators, as it's a 2-story Target mecca) for over 20-minutes in my arms before she woke up. (BONUS: Bicep/tricep workout? Check.)

4. Post lunch, wandering around a small lake near Target, Lucy leaned over to pick up her precious sippy cup (by the way, precious does not begin to describe the serious feelings of love this girl now has for sippy cups - I'm thinking of throwing her a small wedding so she can marry them), and spit up all over herself. For the first time in about 7 months. M. and I determined that perhaps now is not the time to take Lucy off her reflux meds.

5. Also post lunch and wandering outside, Finn felt the urge to drop the kids off at the pool, if you know what I mean. And M. was forced to violate the typical "bathrooms are for patrons only" rule at a restaurant because when a 3-year-old needs to see a man about a horse, you don't wait. While in the midst of taking care of business, Finn leaned over to check out his progress, just as said progress was being expelled from his body, and... well maybe you can see where I am going with this. Basically, he managed to splash poop on his face. Total unchartered territory right there - public bathroom poop face. I have to hand it to M., he handled it with coolness and aplomb. He's a little more of a germaphobe than I am, so I really give him props on that one.

6. There was whining. And crying. And lots of time outs. To break up the monotony, I decided to turn on the sprinkler in the backyard for the kids to cool off. A pool trip was out of the question since Lucy's Target snooze pushed back her afternoon nap too far to make that practical. The sprinkler was my next best option. Finn enjoyed it, once M. freed the area of a rotting dead bird that had been soiling our patio for a few days (good times). Lucy was less than enthused. She mostly just teetered around, veering wildly for the steep drop off between our backyard and the woods, crying and clutching a soggy rice cake. She made quite the picture, as M. managed to put her swim suit on backwards. She sported a saggy swim diaper drooping out the back, and a baby boob peeking out from the front of her suit (by the way, what's the appropriate term for that? Baby boob sounds a bit lewd, but I didn't really want to throw around the "n" word that rhymes with tipple, you know?). Regardless, M. quickly rescued Lucy from the backyard hell I had arranged, and took her inside just in time to see the U.S. lose their soccer game.

7. M. and I managed to rescue the night once the kids went to bed with a movie, dessert, and some good old-fashioned drinking. But then the cycle began all over again Sunday morning. The day started a bit later (6:15 instead of 5:45), but with no less crabbiness from Lucy. Now officially back on full strength reflux meds, we could only assume that she was simply morphing from a pleasant baby into a dreaded toddler, the cruelest of all monsters. So awful was she, that I decided to throw caution to the wind and put her down for a morning nap. She slept, and we caught up on yard work (yay?). But alas, she woke up from the nap still crabby.

8. M. discovered a wasp nest under our deck.

9. We went grocery shopping, a task I loathe. We all went together, and Finn was waaaaay more than a handful. Lucy did fine once I gave her a snack to munch on (despite the fact that we had JUST eaten lunch).

10. Lucy woke up from her afternoon nap with a 102.5 degree fever. In our third diagnosis of the weekend, we decided that no, really, maybe she's just teething. We looked in her mouth, and lo! There were new teeth. She spent about an hour flopped over on her blankie, lying on the floor, waiting for the ibuprofen to kick in. Then she proceeded to toddle around the living room and whine a lot. Mostly at her brother, but a lot directed at her parents, too.

11. Finn apparently decided he no longer understands tricky things like being nice, or listening to his parents. He pushed his sister around, he raced around the house, he wreaked havoc wherever he went. In the process he scored several time outs. And then, his worst infraction ever - on his way to a time out, he peed in his pants on purpose. Oh, the seething red anger. I am more than OK with accidents - they happen, we clean them up, we move on. For Finn, they basically only happen at night now, and even those are rare. Wetting your pants on purpose - not cool. The little guy earned himself his longest time out yet, mostly because I didn't really want to look at him.

12. After 25 minutes of crying while we cooked dinner, Finn was let out of his room to eat. He fought us all through dinner, begging for a treat and refusing to eat the food in front of him. I decided folding laundry was more fun than dinner, and left the table to do some of THAT, leaving poor M. to police.

13. Long crying jag + dinner + play time on the swing outside = puke. In a last, parting volley of the day, Finn puked all over himself and the playground. Should have seen that one coming. I got to wash not just pee soaked clothes, but puke soaked clothes, too.

14. I hopped on the treadmill for a workout, and discovered that my legs did not work. Just would not run. Why, exactly, am I killing myself with these workouts, when it feels like I'm getting nowhere? I could blame the weeding (I'm still feeling what that did to my hamstrings today), but instead I'll just throw a pity party bemoaning how hard it is for me to workout and get better at something physical, to get in shape and lose weight. It's a constant struggle, and I don't feel like I'm getting anywhere with it.

15. As I tried to finish folding some laundry, Lucy woke up at 9:15, her fever newly spiked. As I fretted about whether she'd be school-worthy the next morning, I gave her some more medicine and rocked her back to sleep. That part, of course, wasn't sucky. A chance to rock my baby that did not include a wee hour of the morning is always inducing of warm fuzzy feelings. But the part where I didn't get to sit down until 9:45 pm, and then had to wait for the dryer to finish before going to bed (because our dryer has a broken switch and won't turn itself off and would just keep going and going and burn the house down and.... Yeah, I know, we should just get that fixed) - well, that part sucked. A sucky cap on a pretty sucky weekend.

On the one hand, I can't help but ask, is it time for vacation yet?

Then the other hand smacks me upside the head and reminds me that we're bringing the kids on this "vacation."

Who, these guys, "difficult"?









The things one finds oneself doing to entertain a child...

I can't explain this, but I swear it was all in good fun



New trick - standing on the couch, launching items up into the ceiling fan. My fear that this will end badly is at odds with his delight in the activity.

And All I Got Was This Lousy T-shirt

Well, I survived my first week back at work. I was exhausted every night, even though all I did was sit on my ass in front of a computer all day. It felt good to be back, though. It's nice to think about things other than nap schedules and baby poop.

My lovely husband surprised me with flowers and chocolates delivered to my office on Day 1, to celebrate my new position at work. What a keeper, eh? :-)

Lucy and M. rubbed along pretty well. Only one incident of M. calling me with screaming baby in background to complain and ask for suggestions. I think the lack of sleep (Lucy still isn't back to sleeping through the night) was getting to M. and making him a little grumpy, but who can blame him, right?

It's now Sunday afternoon, and I'm just hours away from starting my second week back at work, the last week before Lucy starts daycare. I've discovered that I have one whole week of work appropriate outfits that fit, which is good. However, given that Fridays are casual and I wore jeans, that sentence is a little misleading. Also, I am afraid that I ONLY have one whole week's worth of outfits that fit, and I may need to repeat them all this coming week. There will likely be some shopping in my future, I think. My goal is to find a routine that allows me to get back on the treadmill at night after the kids go to bed sometime before Labor Day - I don't want to put too much pressure on myself to start that now while we're all getting used to a lot of changes. So one day I will fit into the rest of my nice work clothes, but that day is a little far off.

So far, the weekend has been pretty successful. Both days, we have managed to get both kids to nap at the same time for a decent amount of time. That is true parenting success (and luck)! Ah, if only all weekends could be this way... :-).

Off to enjoy my last few moments of peace and quiet before the kids wake up!