Last week I started back to work full-time. I'm not quite sure how I feel about it yet, but it does feel good to participate in bringing the bacon home. I'm getting used to the drive...an hour+ each way. It's a quiet start in the morning and time to unwind and re-center on the way home. I'm currently working days, but I'll switch to nights in the upcoming schedule. Still trying to find balance with kids, work and home, but I know it will fall into place...eventually??
I've decided to try to get back into blogging. It's been easy to not write anything, but it's just so damn cathartic to blog about whatever to whomever and then, gain some sense of sanity from it all.
Last weekend I had the opportunity to attend a Level 1 Crossfit certification at Cherry Point. (For those that don't know about Crossfit, I urge you to google it and see for yourself). I have been participating in this type of workout for just about a year. I am still a total novice at all of it yet I found that there were a couple of men that couldn't lift what I could lift or keep up with the endurance of the group as a whole..."Fran" was the proof. Yes, this is going in the direction of the old Nike ads of Just Do It!
The following article was written by Jon Gilson, one of the trainers at the certification and I believe he says it best...
You Are Beautiful Tuesday, September 18, 2007 at 12:15PM
If I were feeling a little more lawless, I’d gather all the copies of Cosmo and Seventeen, douse them in kerosene, and strike a match. I’d throw in reams of print ads from Calvin Klein and watch with delight as Kate Moss’ stick-thin image was reduced to carbon. I’d add copies of Shape and Runner’s World until the flames reached toward the heavens, and then I’d crank call the editorial desk at Muscle and Fitness until they stopped publishing pictures of women on steroids.
I’d get the master tapes of America’s Next Top Model and dub over them with “Nasty Girls”, broadcasting the results on every television station in America. I’d skywrite “CrossFit.com” across the Boston skyline, and gently admonish the hoards of long distance runners trotting along the Charles River—with a bullhorn.
I’d take every woman with mass media-induced ideals of beauty, and I’d show them what it really means to be beautiful.
Beautiful women are strong and powerful. They are athletes, capable of every feat under the sun. They have muscles, borne of hard work and sweat. They gauge their self-worth through accomplishments, not by the numbers on the bathroom scale. They understand that muscle weighs more than fat, and they love the fact that designer jeans don’t fit over their well-developed quads.
They know that high repetitions using light weights is a path to mediocrity, and “toning” is a complete and utter myth. They refuse to succumb to the marketers that prey on insecurity, leaving the pre-packaged diet dinners and fat-burning pills on the shelf to pass their expiration date.
Beautiful women train with intensity. The derive self-image from the quality of their work and their ability to excel. They don’t wear makeup to the gym, and they wouldn’t be caught dead with a vinyl pink dumbbell. They move iron, they do pull-ups, they jump, sprint, punch, and kick, and they use the elliptical machine—as a place to hang their jump rope.
They spend their weekends in sport, climbing walls, winning races, and running rivers. They laugh as they sprint circles around the unschooled, turning the image-obsessed into benchwarmers. Beautiful women don’t care if they’re soaked in sweat and covered in dirt, if their nails are chipped or their hair out of place. They care only about quality of life.
Beautiful women are happy, healthy, and strong, and they’re right there beside me, tossing conventional beauty on the ever-growing flames of what used to be.
All I can say is THANK GOD THERE'S ABOUT A DAY LEFT IN 2009! (Yes, I was shouting as I typed that.) Last year as "the ball dropped" to welcome in 2009, I just felt an absolute sense of dread. I knew it was going to be a tough year, just how tough though was not clear yet. Paul was due to leave within the first 2 weeks of January and we were prepared to be separated for 12+ months. This much I knew. I set out to make the best of a crappy situation for myself and the kids, we planned activities, moved into a new house, worked hard to do well in school and work, and adapted to our situation, as many military families have to. In the summer, we promised ourselves to go to the beach at least once per week (which we did), we travelled up and down the east coast to visit family and friends and enjoyed some R&R when Paul was able to come home on leave. He and Fam at a beach house in Emerald Isle for a week, truly a blast! (I hope we can make it an annual occurrence!)
We suffered great losses in 2009, with the tragic death of our cousin, Matilda, in the Colgan plane crash last February and again in August when our Uncle Joe lost his battle with cancer. They left great voids in our family that will never be filled.
Joyfully, we welcomed Paul home a bit early, in October, so we were at least able to celebrate the holidays together, a true blessing. His early return was a wonderful surprise to all of us and was just in the nick of time as Abbie started working on some algebra that required me to go online for assistance. Seriously, she's working on math in 8Th grade that I did in Algebra 2 as a Junior in high school. BTW, has anyone really had a use for the quadratic equation in "real life"? I'd like to see it applied to my household budget please.
Now that we are embarking on a new year, the last year of the first decade in the new millennium, I hope and wish everyone peace for 2010. Happy New Year!
Paul and I just got back from a "date"...of Christmas shopping, (sigh). First, we went to dinner, (I was hoping to loosen him up with a cocktail or 4), and then headed to the shopping Mecca of New Bern; Target. Poor Paul, after nearly 17 years of marriage and 20 years together, he didn't know what I was capable of accomplishing when Christmas shopping sans kids. He was a little shell shocked to say the least. I think he actually had a little bead of sweat form on his brow as the shopping cart filled up in under 45 minutes. (Look, I didn't create these 4 kids by myself...the sweat should have formed long ago, when "two pink lines" appeared on the magic wand x 4!)
In the car on our way home he was dead silent, until this song came on the radio. At first he didn't know what the heck was happening, thinking the radio station was having technical difficulties, but quickly realized it was intentional. He finally cracked a smile, and even giggled a bit, especially at the end when he recognized the last song by Toto?, so here's to some Christmas confusion.
While visiting with family over Thanksgiving, my sister-in-law, Christine, introduced my son to, The Elf on the Shelf. For those that do not know what I'm talking about, this is the story of an elf, one of "Santa's Helpers", that visits your home before Christmas. This elf sits on a shelf, or mantle, or kitchen counter, or ceiling fan. He's magic and cannot be touched by children, or his magic may go away and he won't be able to say if you've been good or bad. You see, he "watches" the kids and flies back to the North Pole nightly to give a report to TheBig Guy ...all the good and bad. The Elf will be found in a new perch the next morning.
Now, since I didn't have time to shop at the bookstore in VA, I figured I would just wait until I got back home to buy it. I went to the 3 "bookstores" in New Bern, and no one had heard of this Elf on the Shelf. Finally, when I was lamenting to another parent about how I should try to explain this one to my son that won't stop talking about said Elf, another parent chimed in and told me that I could find the Elf at Branch's Furniture in downtown New Bern,(because when you think of a children's book and doll set, you think of an expensive furniture store where you DO NOT WANT TO BRING CHILDREN, or some adults for that matter!)
Once the Elf was discovered by Drew, we read the story that accompanied him. He had to name the Elf...he chose "George". He then became very concerned and wanted to know how long George would be staying with us, and more importantly, when was George going back to his own house.
I could just see him, 20 years from now, reclined on that tufted, dark brown, leather chaise lounge, "talking" to a Freudian psychiatrist and blaming all of his "issues" of always trying to please everyone on poor little George. Ahhhh, the true meaning of Christmas!
Yes, it's been pretty busy...and for Pete's sake, it's December! Thanksgiving was a lot of fun and a lot of food...16 people, 9 of them children and I never forget, 4 of the 9 are mine. Thankfully, my in-laws' home is able to accommodate everyone, including our 2 dogs!
Hello! Welcome to my blog. I'm hoping this site appeals to all, especially spouses of the USMC who are keeping the home-fires burning while their Marine is deployed.
I would love this blog to be an interactive site where one is free to comment, make suggestions, vent frustrations and ask questions, share resources and connect with others in the same situation.
I hope to discuss the trials and tribulations of deployment, motherhood, and whatever else comes to mind. When you read this, you will be on the year long journey with me and my four children and two dogs!!! BEWARE! We should have a few laughs.
I will do my best to update the blog on a daily basis, more often if time presents itself, and I encourage you to add this to your "favorites" list. Enjoy!
In no way is this blog affiliated with the United States Marine Corps. The opinions and comments posted are of this writer only.