100+10000=

Lately.

I am running....running. I see the light. It's there. In a size 6 running skort. Running....succeeding.

Today, a poop incident to rival any. Poop on the floor, poop on two year olds hands and legs. Maneuvering to get poopy kid into bathroom without his poopy hands touching anything while still trying to keep other kids from stepping in poop. This is done with careful precision and quick movements only a mother can appreciate. If I was Lucille Ball I would of had a clothes pin pinching my nostrils closed. It was that bad.

Not much has changed around here.

Running......

Two of my kids are in school now. My middle boy is now a kindergartner. I know I should be sad. I was, with the thought of him being independent of me and going off to school, but then I knew he had Spencer to ride the bus with. I knew that he knew he could count on Spence. I know like any good mother, I was expected to cry on his first day. I did not. Don't get me wrong, I worried like any good mother, but cry? No. That's not how I roll. I knew he would be great. He loves school. I suspect he prefers it over the oh so boring days spent at home playing 'little baby' games.

Running.....Oh crap! Is that a blister?....running...running..

Tonight at the local Harris Teeter, as I was browsing the hot dog section I spotted a sale on Hebrew National hot dogs. A steal at $2.00. As I was deciding on how many packages to buy a very loud and obnoxious sound erupted next to me and for an instant I thought I was in Walmart. I may have even heard the Twilight Zone theme song in my head.


I nonchalantly (yeah, right! nonchalantly) glance over to see a group of five people, seemingly young adults or very immature adults and one toddler boy. The child was sitting in the cart while his older brother or very immature and mean father was teasing him. I didn't hear the teasing, only the very loud "NOOOOOO!" coming from that child, but I understood from the mans gestures that teasing was occurring followed by the child yelling.

Every few seconds.

He just kept yelling! I held onto my wieners and quickly made my way down the coffee isle. Away. I had to get away. I could still hear the child's "NOOOOO!" Then the cart carrying the screaming child was being pushed down the coffee isle. My nerves were splintering. I can handle childrens many noises, and we all know they emit loud sounds. I could not take it. I moved to the next isle. The noise persisted so I decided to start my shopping in the refrigerator section and off I went 6 isles down. Quite faintly I could still hear the childs irritating cries. I was struck with a feeling of disbelief and irritation at the man provoking the child and wondered what kind of life that poor kid had.

At the check out the screaming persisted. I wondered how the mother could allow this to go on. It just wasn't normal. At least not where I come from. I kept thinking; what the hell is wrong with those people? Didn't they care that the boy was being harassed? Didn't they know that they were making a scene? I wanted to step in, but couldn't. I know. How selfish, but I did not want to get beat up in the parking lot.

I could still hear the child as I exited the store. Guess they thought they were in Walmart too.

Running...stretch, stretch....running on....

Tonight as I went to my bedroom to get ready for bed I found a hand made scroll and the math equation 100+10000= sitting on my side of the bed.

A scroll that only a child would make. The smell of crayons and notebook paper brought a sweet smile to my face. 100+10000=love. I wrote down 10100 but when he finds the answer in his lunch box tomorrow he will understand that it really means I love him.

100+10000=love

See, I don't have to cry. I have moments like these to make me smile.

Running

and

adding.

The Ooey Gooey Chocolate Chip Cookie Blog (with pics)

Despite the madness that is going around this house today like a bad case of rabies, I decided to try a fun, messy craft with the kids hoping it would take their minds off of each other and their snarling.

We made chocolate chip cookies with shaving cream, glue, brown paint, black paper and paper plates.

Gabe stirring it up!

Elijah with his usual goofy expression

Spencer. Wonder what he is thinking

The glop!

Putting the mixture on the paper plate.

Elijah spreading the gooey stuff around.

Walla! The finished product!

Cookie anyone?

As you can see, Gabriel is wearing his Happy Birthday hat in honor of his 4th birthday. After nap we are having REAL chocolate cupcakes. Mmmmm chocolate cup cakes.

I got this idea from a blogger I subscribe too. 'No Time for Flashcards'. Great site. She has the best ideas! If you have small children go check her out. She is on my sub list.

Tree Mud..The brief tale of how a woman became a mud beast.

Nert! Nert! Nert! Nert! The alarm clock is shrilling at me.

"Get up! Get up! Get up!" I told myself a dozen times this morning before forcing myself out of the comforts of my bed. It was still dark and quiet. Did I really have to wake the kids? I asked myself. Yes.

Get ready to go. Shower, shave, shave, no shampoo. Why even shower? I am going to be playing in the mud later. Do it anyway. Get dressed. Wake the kids. Last minute bag check. Last minute diaper bag check. Breakfast which gave me peanut butter butterflies. Why was I nervous? Dumb and not allowed. Load the kids in the van, drive through the desolate neighborhood. I get to friends house, drop kids off at friends house at 6:20 a.m. We are on our way.

It's race day. An 8k mudrun race day. I know. Shut up! Already about this mudrun. Or should I say 'Sand run?' I will try to keep my words to a minimum, but don't hold me to it. In fact, don't hold anything to me, I think sand is still embedded in my skin. I might be scratchy to the touch. Not making sense. Moving along now.......

We start on the 3rd wave. The beginning of the race is along the beach, on the sand. We run through the sand, water, around broken trees, and up sand dunes. We run through the woods, around more trees and over orange-painted roots. The first fifteen minutes I am not there, but then I get it. I am in the groove, am comfortable, am running smooth. Then more sand. Slows us down. So much sand.


We run through a mud puddle then more loose sand. We cross a creek in waist high water. I joke that I feel like a wildebeast crossing the river. I briefly, in a Discovery channel moment, look for a pair of crocodile eyes peering over the top of the water.

We traipse through sand, sand, sand! I climb over a wall. I would like to say that I resembled one of Charlies Angels as I shot over the top, but it was more like a Chris Farley moment as I hit the surface on my belly and rolled over to the other side. I think I even made a sound like a seal barking as I rolled off. Urf!

My shoes are heavy with sand, my once white socks are now black.

We wade through a waist high puddle of mud, make our way up and down sand hills and gasp a sigh of relief when we hit pavement. The end is the best. The end is my favorite part. I feel like a beast.

Upon cresting the final hill we slide down to the mud pit. I am in beastly bliss as I crawl through the mud. Mud splashes in my face, in my hair. I try to keep my shoulders and butt under the ropes that were hanging horizontally across the pit. I am a warrior! Grrrrr!

Okay, so maybe not a warrior but certainly I must have looked like Catherine Zeta Jones slithering under that rope as if they were laser beams. I am certain that I heard a few people calling 'Go Catherine!' It was a proud moment.

The mud stuck in my hair and trickled down my leg.

It stuck to me as I crossed the crowded finish line.

The mud was my mark of accomplishment, my badge of mudrun honor.

There were cheers for the finishers.

I made it. I am a mud-runner.

Until next year....