Toddler Epiphanies

Lisse says to Daddy.
"Daddy, I have a idea!"
Daddy, totally riveted, waits for an impressive piece of knowledge.
Lisse. . . "Your head belongs to your face!"

Sometime later. . .
Lisse runs face first into the hutch.
"Ouch!"  (Rubbing her head.)  "Daddy, I keep getting owies!"
Daddy. . . "Well, your head belongs to your face."

I will never get tired of observing 3 year-olds using language.  LOL

Late Night Sugars

I have to admit that once the kids go to bed at night I really enjoy having time to myself.  Invariably though, the quiet never lasts for long as I hear the creak of the floor and the pitter-patter of little feet on the ceiling.  There have been too many times I've hollered up the stairs, "Get in your bed!"  Not long ago, I decided to stop whatever was so important (dishes, e-mail, laundry, movie watching, etc.) and trudge back up the stairs to address why they were yet again out of their beds after lights out.  Tonight was one such occasion, and here is how it went. . .

Pitter-patter, creak, creak. . . up the stairs, I'm barely in the door of their mostly dark room and I hear a little voice softly say, "Hi, Mama."  I knelt by his bed and as he lay back on his pillow, he said, "I check Sissa and she is sleeping."

"Why did you need to check Sissa," I asked?

"I need sugars."

"Oh, okay."  He swung his little feet to the floor and crept over to her bed.  I rested my hand on her in the dark and could feel him reach down with his little hands to find her face.  The slightest smack of his lips was all I could hear as he gently gave her sugars on her left cheek before climbing back into his bed.

I leaned over and held him in an easy hug, whispering in his ear how much I love him.  "Can I give you sugars, Bubba?"

"Yes."

"Can you go night night now?"

"Yes."

Moments later I am now back at my computer and the house is calm and quiet again.  For now they may argue and fight over this toy or that or disagree feverishly about whether or not to watch Dora or Octonauts, but one day I will share this story with his sister and she will know how much he has always loved her.  And never again will I pass up an opportunity to share those late night moments with my kids.  These days will too soon pass.

What Matters Today & Tomorrow

What Matters Today

doing my dishes, over and over

washing, folding, and putting away the clothes

dropping off and picking up my son from silversmithing class

checking my e-mail

cooking meals...and planning more

walking the dogs

grocery shopping

cleaning the house 

paying bills

organizing next week's school schedule

telling them to stop talking and eat their food, stop arguing. . .

What Matters Tomorrow

watching Blues Clues

stopping to pet all the dogs at the park

strumming the threads of the spider web

watching the creek flow under the bridge

running under the red "magnets" (arches) at the park

stopping to admire the bamboo. . . and talk about pandas

wiping his runny nose, again and again

taking time for hugs and sugars to stave off a tantrum

celebrating with my son as he shows me his first silver creations

not making mountains out of molehills

telling them about Jesus

Caught Longing

They sat staring out at the rain, cradling double-handled cups of their afternoon snack in their hands.  Grapes, they love grapes.  You would think it was a cold winter day, though it was more than 80 degrees outside.  In between mouthfuls they alternated between chasing one another around the house and pleading to go outside.  By the time the rain relented, dinner was nearly finished cooking.  This is how it goes with time. . . it simply gets away, often while we are consumed with the minutia of life.  They do not have a monopoly on longing, but on this day theirs is all that matters.  

How could I not have engaged their little dreams.  My sister reminded me of a time not so long ago when I threw-off my bonds of dullness and traipsed through the rain with my oldest son, just because we could.  We were soaked to the bone and loved every rain-drenched minute of it.  

I can't get so caught in the routine 

that I don't allow myself to get caught up in the moment.  

The photo is my reminder.

Lest you think otherwise, this is what lay on the other side of those little hoods. . . that mischievous little grin melts my heart.

Revenge of the Apple Festival

Last night our family attended the Apple Festival and Campfire.  We headed out early thinking we would grab a nice dinner together before heading to Rock Creek Regional Park.  It was a good thing we left home early since the DC traffic was horrid.  By the time we got near the park there was little time to enjoy a leisurely dinner, so we opted to stop in to Chipotle for a quicker bite to eat, although it was hardly quick as we were stuck behind an apologetic woman who was placing an order for an army.  While waiting our turn, we had a spontaneous conversation with a lovely Irish lady with a great accent - a conversation that could hardly be avoided since the twins stood two feet in front of her, staring up at her with unblinking eyes.  For some reason, she was a spectacle to them.  Interestingly, I routinely find myself commenting to yet another stranger that they would think my children have never seen other people for how often they stare holes through them.  Thankfully, the twins normally receive a warm reception, which invariably yields smiles and giggles all the way around.

Upon inhaling our dinner, we were out the door, not quite sprinting to the van, but just nearly as we wanted to have as much time as possible to play before sunset.  Certain of my directions, I set out with Koen as my navigator.  My first indication of a problem came when "you have reached your final destination" only to find it was a dead end with only a bicycle path entrance to the park.  Scratching my head, I surmised that I had only to continue driving the park perimeter, which logically should reveal the proper entrance.  Yeah, well. . . this is a rather large park.  After ten minutes of testing my apparently faulty logic, I pulled over and double checked my address.  It turned out I had input the general park address, but not the park's nature center address.  Problem solved, we put on our racing caps and sped off (a whole 5 miles over the speed limit) to the correct address.  We were thrilled to finally get to the festival. . . and only 30 minutes late.

Everyone piled out of the car ready for fun and me with my camera in hand to capture it all.  First stop was the trunk, where I pulled out my handy dandy bug spray.  We were after all entering what appeared to be a 72 acre jungle.  I have to admit I was proud that for once I had remembered to bring the insect repellent.  My kids were finally going to be bug free!  Imagine how loudly my bubble burst when after fighting with the can of bug spray, I had to abandon my attempts at shielding my kids from the mosquitoes because the sprayer was broken.  Well, at this point no one cared because they heard the music spilling through the trees from deep in the forest.  Lisse would have it no other way than to sprint toward the music, which we did.

After clearing the ticket table and repeatedly removing the display apples from Lisse's hands, we headed toward the sound of the banjo.  The kids pointed out every little thing along the way.  They certainly are city kids, but they're fast learners.  Taking out across an open field, they were squealing with joy.

It wasn't long before the field turned into a forest path and Lisse learned her first lesson about avoiding tree roots.  She took a rather dirty tumble, recovered quickly, and still blazed the trail ahead of the boys.

Finding our way into the center of the melee, we looked around and plotted our course of action.  First step, apple-tasting!  Gala and Honey Crisps were among the variety, but the one that caught our eye was the Smokehouse.  It was pretty tasty, as are all apples in our humble opinions - we are just an apple-eatin' family - however, Honey Crisp took the prize.  We then tried our hand at pressing apple cider, making apple pies, eating caramel apples, and creating Johnny Appleseed hats, all while listening to a talented, live bluegrass band singing mostly hymns.

At this point I would normally move on in the story, but I have to pause to contemplate the caramel apple.  Whoever came up with the caramel apple concept must have been a twisted individual, or at least not slightly OCD like me.  It took all of five seconds of watching everyone else walking around gnawing rather unsuccessfully on their miracle grow, massive apples to realize there must be a better way.  Like the perfect marriage of peanut butter and chocolate achieved by the Reese's peanut butter cup, I snagged an apple from the caramel apple stand and stepped ten feet over to the young man cutting apples at the tasting stand.  Voila!  You would have thought I was developing the cure for cancer as people stared at my sliced apples.  No really, didn't McDonald's figure this out not so long ago?  In all fairness, when you have a child who loves apples, but is cursed with braces, you have to improvise.

After all the aforementioned fun, we made our way to the campfire for marshmallow roasting, smores, and a viewing of the classic, animated Johnny Appleseed.  Everything was going well until Lisse melted down over wanting to eat her "marsho" before it was roasted.  She truly never relented on the issue until I took the initiative to create the smore and shove it in her mouth.  At that point, she was like Stitch when he was destroying Lilo's room and she placed the lei around his neck, at which point he fell over backwards and began purring in contentment.  Okay, so Lisse was not quite purring, but I'm fairly certain she reached toddler nirvana.  Nothing like sugaring up your kids just before bedtime.

With the festival itself shaping up nicely, I was quite content that I had provided my kids with such a wonderful opportunity to make a warm memory with Mama.  Feeling quite accomplished that I had achieved my goal, I convinced the kids to leave ahead of the crowd.  We even stopped on the way out of the nature center upon Lisse's request to ogle at the farmer, which is oddly what she persists in calling any red barn she sees.  On the way out to the parking area, she then spied a sign that read "NO VEHICLES."  She was beside herself, "Mama, LOOK!  It's AB's!"  We spent a couple minutes letting her and Karter trace the letters with their fingers.  These were moments of pure joy.

 

Heading out of the park on a slightly declining sidewalk, Lisse began picking up speed.  "Lisse be careful, slow dow. . ."  My words trailed off as she tripped forward, landed on her knees, and rolled forward onto her face, screaming.  Only five feet behind her, I snatched her up with speed and cradled her in my arms, shoving the front of her shirt into her mouth, having already seen the blood pouring from her lip.  There was little light left to the dusky evening and I jogged to the van carrying her, Koen trailing behind holding Karter by the hand and carrying our goodie bags, camera bag, and my cell phone and keys.  Koen was one step ahead of me and had the side door of the van open before I got there with Lisse.  I placed her in her car seat and tried to get a closer look at her face.  I was just realizing the extent of her lip injury when Koen blurted out that one of the bags had torn open and something had fallen out. . . in the dark.

 

Strapping the kids into their car seats, I quickly surveyed the remaining contents of the bag and realized the missing item was my cell phone.  Like looking for the proverbial needle in the haystack, I began brushing my hands all over the tallish grass on the side of the road where we were parked.  By this time, there was nearly no light whatsoever.  Rather desperately wanting to find my cell phone so I could get Lisse home to doctor her wounds, I stopped a passing parent and asked him to call my phone, not realizing that Koen had his cell phone in his pocket.  As we all searched the grass, Koen called my phone, which was answered by a lady who had found it inside the park.  Koen sprinted back inside the park, secured my phone, and sprinted back to the van.  He had an even greater sense of urgency over the whole incident than I did, even gasping and recoiling with his hand over his mouth upon seeing the blood.  In his mind, we were experiencing an emergency.

Safely back in the van, he used my cell phone to navigate us back to where my internal map could take over and get us home.  Halfway home, Lisse began saying her nose and knee hurt as well, and I reassured her that I would be her doctor once we got home.  Karter quickly jumped on the doctor bandwagon, stating he was going to be Lisse's doctor too.  Minutes into that conversation Lisse stopped crying and said "I'm better now, Mama.  Can I be play a doctor too?"

It was all uphill from there as we finished our trek home, bathed the kids, and had some great play time before bed.  The looks on their faces tell it all.  They just love being together!  Koen adores them, they follow his every move, and they are all pretty much inseparable.  

In hindsight the whole evening could have perhaps been characterized as attending the "get stuck in traffic, shovel your dinner down your throat, get lost, rip your lip off, lose your cell phone" festival!  Thankfully, all these things were punctuated by warm, memorable moments. . . and the smores didn't hurt either.  Like many other days and circumstances, we lived to tell about it.  If such times can end in a photo like the one above of my three kids, I'll take whatever life throws at us. 

Call It Like You See It

In reflecting today about life struggles, it occurred to me how often we delude ourselves into thinking that things are not as they appear, even when they truly are. Often we mask our internal conflicts, keeping them hidden not only from others, but from ourselves as well. This defense mechanism can be beneficial at times, though over time it can also be quite destructive. This has been the case with my food addiction over the years. I dare say, millions of people around the world can relate to this exact situation - if they can open themselves up to the risk of being completely transparent, if not with others, at least with themselves for starters.

Earlier today I was contemplating the "mask" when chatting with my oldest son. I admitted to him how common occurrence it has been for me to stop at Krispy Kreme or Dunkin' Donuts when out by myself. My deception served multiple purposes:

1. I spent less money because I didn't have to buy for the whole family.
2. I didn't have to feel self-conscious about eating junk food in front of my husband and risk him thinking (though he would never say it) that I was sabotaging my weight.
3. I didn't have to feel guilty about setting a bad example for my family, enabling unhealthy eating habits.
4. I didn't have to deal with the conflict of giving to my family to make me feel better about eating it myself.

I told my son about my struggle and how often I've sneaked food when no one was looking. Then I asked him if he had ever done the same, to which he responded affirmatively. Of course, I knew the answer to that question. I've seen the candy wrappers in his desk drawer, among other places. Imagine my relief when he was honest with me. What should it indicate to me that I have deceived around food, and that my son has too? It is an indicator that neither of us has had a healthy relationship with food.

Going back to the mask. . . for me to call it like I see it, particularly in regards to self, I have to be honest about HOW I see myself. It not only breeds self-respect, but fosters respect from others. Once we unmask our deceptions, it breaks the strangle-hold that leading our double life with food holds over us.

From now on, whether it's embarrassing or difficult to admit, I will call it like I see it within myself. Perhaps I'll just think of it as the "Taming of the Beast".

Reminding Myself: I CAN Do It!

I wrote this blog on SparkPeople back in 2008 after losing 61 pounds.  It was selected today on their website as their inspirational story for the day.  The timing was perfect for me to reread it and remind myself that I've done it once. . . and I can do it again!  I'm not at the same starting place, thankfully.  This time my starting weight is 194.  Not that I mark success solely by the scale, but it is a logical place to start.  Anyway, up, up, and away we go!

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This was me at my heaviest non-pregnant weight.  I was about 210-215 pounds.

One day my soul woke up and it was fat! It didn't happen overnight; I wasn't always fat. I had spent the last 11 years eating emotionally. It started with my husband's death. We had been newlyweds. Emotional eating had stayed with me long after my wounds began to heal and even after I remarried. It had become a habit. And even though I knew I was hurting myself, I felt powerless to overcome it. Food had control over my life for years, but finally, I decided to live differently. From somewhere came a glimmer of hope that my life could be different.

Then SparkPeople showed up with a soft knock and an invitation: "Can Audri come out and play?" This began a journey of self-discovery I never could have imagined. You see, I didn't realize that year after year, my personality and my future were slowly being buried under a growing layer of fat!

SparkPeople helped me realize for the first time that to be successful I had to make some serious changes. It wasn't enough to make a New Year's resolution and hope for the best. I had to commit to being different…but first I had to believe it was possible. So I started with what I knew to be true. I knew I had not always been fat. I knew others had overcome even greater weight obstacles than mine. Mostly, I knew that through my faith, I could do anything. After acknowledging these things, I felt prepared to commit to whatever it took to conquer myself. Within a week, I came up with the four strategies I would use to set myself up for success. 

First, I assessed my battle with food in an honest way. My "If they don't see me eat it, it doesn't count" attitude had to go! Using the Nutrition Tracker, I took a close look at my food choices and it opened my eyes! Over time, I chose to eliminate caffeine, table salt, alcohol, sodas and excessively high fat, high-calorie foods from my diet. Some were harder to let go than others were, but one by one they fell by the wayside in exchange for healthier options.

Second, I stopped hiding my struggle. Those who loved me had known all along anyway—my size 18 wasn't a good disguise. I was only fooling myself. I realized I had fallen into a habit of secretly losing a little weight with the hope that others would notice. When they didn't, I became discouraged and eventually quit. I decided to try a different approach and bring God, my family and friends into the program with me. This way, I was encouraged and held accountable. Eventually, I joined a SparkTeam and even started one of my own.

Third, I set my goals. I set concrete short, medium and long-term goals based on my interests. Some I knew were attainable, like doing cardio four days each week. Some were a stretch, like climbing Mt. Fuji someday—something that would take a lot of hard work to reach. I needed to have something on the horizon to aim at, a target. It was important for it to be realistic enough that I could focus on it instead of my overall weight loss goal. If I had begun by focusing on losing the whole 70 pounds, I would have become overwhelmed and possibly given up.

Fourth, I put a concrete plan in motion to help me succeed. I wrote out my plan on my SparkPage to keep myself accountable. This included making my Nutrition and Fitness Trackers public so others could see what I was tracking. I devoted myself to following my plan, even on the days when I wanted to quit. I determined there were only two choices: to quit or continue. And quitting wasn't an option.

Along the way, a funny thing happened. I found me! Each honest step I took loosened the control food had over me. Once I began to see the fruits of my labor, I realized that I could have done it all along. I had been making excuses and giving away my freedom to choose a better life. Through overcoming the old me, I realized that my personality had been stifled. I wasn't energetic enough to be on the outside the person I was on the inside. Now, I have a zeal that was lost for years. I am alive! I've even tackled new physical challenges and along the way come to think of myself as an athlete. In August 2008, I climbed to the top of Mt. Fuji. And in November 2008, my whole family decided to run the Marine Corps-sponsored Toys for Tots 5K on Yokosuka Naval Base. I'll never forget what happened between my son and me that day.

The horn blew and we started at a good clip, with my young son jogging easily and setting a good pace. It wasn't long before he was ready to slow down a little, and not long after that, he was ready to quit altogether. He had brought a lime green bandanna to wear around his neck but had taken it off. As he was about to give up, I took the bandanna from him and grasped one end tightly. Handing him the other end, I said, "Come on, I won't let go. We can do it together every step of the way." I wanted so desperately for him to overcome all that held him back and simply persevere to the end.

I spoke to him of children who would benefit from what we were doing and of those who walk more than five kilometers just to get a drink of dirty water. We spoke of climbing Mt. Fuji and other challenges that life still holds ahead of us. I pulled and pushed him. I cheered for him. I empathized with him. I shared bits and pieces of life wisdom with him. This was not the first time I had told him that I believe in him, that "You can do it!" Even still, today was different. Today was that opportunity for him to rise above something bigger than he was, and not just to call himself a conqueror, but also to feel it in his spirit.

During the last leg, as we could see the finish line, I was giving him a pep talk. I wish I could recall the exact words I said to him at that moment, but I'll never forget his response: "Yeah, just like YOU believe in me." At that moment, my heart swelled with love and hope. Hope that he will embrace those words and grow to be a confident man who does not fear life's challenges. He confirmed that he does truly listen to me and believes me when I tell him, "I believe in you."

As we neared the finish line, he told me he was ready to sprint. He let go of the green bandanna we had carried together for the last 3 miles and we sprinted together to the finish line. During the whole race, he never stopped moving forward—not once. He had ups and downs, but he never quit. And as we crossed that finish line side-by-side, he became a little more of the adult I will someday know him to be.

After grabbing some water and finding my husband, we stood together to listen to the race results. My softhearted 8-year-old son said to me, "That was the hardest thing I've ever done, but I'm glad I did it." In that moment, I learned the most beautiful truth: Today he came to believe in himself, like SparkPeople helped me believe in myself. This would have never happened had I not wrestled with my food and exercise demon and come out victorious, believing in myself. This moment was made possible by SparkPeople and one life changed—no, make that two.

I realized that perhaps the greatest consequence of my weight loss (60 pounds to date) is that I have the ability to help others in a meaningful way. I never thought I would see the day when others would call me an inspiration. Living as a fat person enabled me to relate better to the struggles of others. I guess those 11 "fat" years weren't completely wasted after all. 

This is after losing weight.  Here I was 144 pounds and felt amazing!  

I am striving to be this healthy again.

Watching Them Learn & Grow

The kids and I recently went to the USDA Agricultural Research Center to pick corn for the Food for Others: Harvest for the Hungry program.  It was a great opportunity to expose the kids to razor sharp leaves, itching...er, helping people, seeing where their food comes from, etc.  All kidding aside, seeing them experience new things is always exciting for me.  I'm especially passionate about teaching them to give to their community.  Getting children involved in service projects at an early age is beneficial for everyone.  They need to understand and embrace the role they can and will play in making a difference in the lives of those less fortunate than themselves.  What goes around does truly does come around.  Additionally, exposing them to agricultural experiences is beneficial so that they learn where their food comes from and how it's processed.  

The day was fairly hot, about 82 degrees.  I have to say Karter took a page from Mama's book..."Mama, I wan do back to a tar.  I sweaty."  He didn't last long.  I kept having to distract him with "Oh, there's a corn! Pull it down and twist it!"  The corn was in better shape than I expected considering the lack of rain this year.  Once they decided they could run in the corn they had a better time.  Of course that created a little more stress for Mama.  It was everything I could do not to lose them in the field.

We wrapped up our picking and lounged on the tailgate eating cold clementines.  It was refreshing and wonderful.  Afterwards, we made our way to a nice park for lunch with friends who had joined us for the day.  The kids and their friends ran themselves crazy.  Koen was the oldest and spent plenty of time giving piggyback rides to the others.  Of course wherever Karter is, there is inevitably significant amounts of entomological exploration.  They crawled on the ground, following a granddaddy longlegs spider, observed a beetle as it crawled down the middle of the table between their peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and poked and prodded tons of stinkbugs!

Following our fun stop for lunch and bugs, we took off for frozen yogurt at froYo.  Everyone loves a little cold treat after running around outside on a hot day.

After dinner and showers, the twinks went to bed and Koen and I read a couple chapters together in his new book, Kingdom's Dawn (Kingdom Series).  It was a relaxing end to a lovely day.  I love days like this with my kids.  Before I know it those days will be long gone and I'll be wondering where the time went.  Accordingly, I've been working harder lately on enjoying little moments with them, engaging them in more meaningful or playful ways, and just following their lead.  My attitude of late has been just go with it.  :)  As such, we've been shifting gears a lot, turning on a dime as it were.  I have always said my middle name is Gumbi.  Guess I'm trying to wear that a little more.

Seeing the smile on my 12 year-old's face as he explores the world and shares his latest finds with me is priceless.  I want to share with him as many more days like that as I'm able.  He was so joyful upon spying this tiny purple flower growing from the corn stalk.  You would have thought he found gold. Half of my job as a his homeschool mom is complete.  He loves to learn!  Everything else is just giving him access to the knowledge and like this little purple flower. . . watching him grow.  Now if I can instill the same love in the twins.  I just love this life!