I do love a man in uniform!

When I arrived home Monday evening from the 1st Grade curriculum meeting, Peter was in the driveway. He came running up to the car wearing a smile from ear to ear and his new Tiger Cub uniform.

Gosh, I love that kid!

Miracle Monday

It's Miracle Monday!

It's easy to participate. Just write about a miracle that you have witnessed, heard about or been a part of and link back to it here. You can copy and paste the Miracle Monday badge into your post if you would like. That's it!

I know. I know.

At 12:22 this morning my husband rolled over in bed and said, "Happy Birthday!"

I mumbled, "Thank you."

"You're 40 you know."

"I know."

"That's old you know."

"I know."

"Mommy, am I fat?"

Sarah asks me this almost every night in the bathtub as she looks down at her tummy.

"No, honey. You aren't fat. You are perfect!" is always my reply.

Because she is not fat and she is perfect.

I'm not sure where she gets this notion of being fat. I have been very careful not to use the "f" word around her.

I never stare in the mirror and call myself fat or ugly or big or gross or hideous or any number of words I used to use to describe myself at various points in my adolescence.

I never tell her she can't have a treat because she might get fat. And when I talk about eating fruits and vegetables I always tell the kids it's because I want them to grow up to be strong and healthy and never because I don't want them to get fat.

So where is all of this coming from? I wish I knew so I could make it stop.

I don't want my 5 year old to worry about being fat.

I've been wondering if it's because I'm Shredding and getting excited with the way I look and feel. When she asks me why I'm "taking my exercise" as she calls it, I explain it's because mommy wants to be healthy and strong. (Which is true.) I never mention that I want to wear a bikini or that I want to wear smaller clothes. (Which is also true.)

I wonder if she can sense it though. If my actions and my words, as guarded as they may be, are sending her the wrong message about her beautiful 5-year-old body.

I hope not. Because I want her to love herself, inside and out. And I don't ever want her to have to ask me if she's too fat or too tall or too freckled.

I want her to know that she's perfect. But it's more than just knowing it in her head.

I want her to feel that way in her heart.

09-09-09

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. - 1 Corinthians 13:4-8

Thank you Dan for loving me and for never failing me.

Happy 9th Anniversary!

Toot! Toot! Honk! Honk! (If I don't blow my own horn, no one else will!)

I was hoping that after 4 and a half months of Shredding I would be able to post an end of summer picture of myself in a bikini. And I was going to do it too. However, my stomach isn't quite flat enough yet for me to even think about purchasing a bikini much less posing for a picture in one and posting it here for the world to see.

However, I did manage to upgrade my tankini skirt to bikini bottoms this summer and with strategically placed children, I think I look pretty darn good.


And don't even get me started on my arms. My husband and kids are getting tired of me flexing my muscles for them. I was even flexing for my mom the other day. I think I saw her eyes roll around a little bit but she told me how great they looked anyway. (I love you, Mom!)

So I'm going to keep on working out and trying harder to watch what I eat so that next summer I can wear a bikini. That's the plan anyway. (And just for comparison purposes, take a look at me from May of 2008. )

Miracle Monday

Miracle Monday is closed for Labor Day.

Please stop back by next Monday to share a miracle.

In the meantime, I'll be enjoying the last little bit of summer with my family as we romp in the waves one more time and build one last sand castle!

And maybe, just maybe, on Tuesday I'll share a picture of myself in a bathing suit.

Maybe.

It didn't take long for the rose to fall off the bloom.

It only took 4 days for kindergarten to go from "awesome" and "cool" and "better than preschool" to "school is boring" and "I hate school."

But the one that I love the most as I am trying to get her into bed is "I'm never going back to school and you can't make me!" Insert crossed arms, big pout and child size 11 foot stomp here.

Well, we'll just see about that now won't we. Insert crossed arms, bigger pout and adult size 8 1/2 foot stomp here.

There was something about the way the September sunlight played against the swings.

There was something about the way the September sunlight played against the swings on the playground today while I was chasing after 14 three-year-olds that immediately took me back.

The swiftness in which I was carried back through the years almost took my breath away. Memories of Peter and Sarah played in my mind like old film footage, grainy and silent.

We were at the park. Sarah was giggling as I pushed her in the swings and Peter was running and jumping and climbing. I was holding my breath and praying his two-year-old legs wouldn't betray him.

I remembered another favorite park. The giant sand box was filled with buckets and bulldozers and shovels. The day was hot and we had packed a lunch of sandwiches and chocolate Pokky.

And then I recalled the many times I loaded both kids into the double stroller for a long walk through the neighborhood. Our old neighborhood was fairly large but most of the moms I knew worked so I spent many days with no one to talk to except my kids.

I spent those long walks babbling about the trees, the grass and the sky - nothing in particular. We would make it all the way to the coffee shop where I would order an iced chai latte and the kids would fuss until I reluctantly shared my treat with them. They would pass the icy drink back and forth while I began the trek back home.

I felt someone tug on my shirttail. I glanced up at the sky and noticed that the angle of the sun had changed ever so slightly and I was pulled back into the present.