Contract and Quest

Once upon a time Mr. Man and I went to Target and bought a scale. The conversation went something like this:
"We should get a digital one."
"But the analog is so much cheaper, we need to save some money."
"Well okay then."

A couple years later, Mr. Man reminded me that he has been telling me for years that we need a new scale. The conversation went something like this:
"We really need a new scale. That analog one sucks."
"Okay, I agree, but I thought you didn't want to spend money on that."
"What? I've been saying forever that we need a new scale!"
Apparently I had forgotten.

We're a funny couple.

So, last week, I bought a new scale. Digital. With body fat percentage and body water percentage approximations. Pretty schnazzy. But there's only one big problem. Now that it's so easy to weigh myself, and see it, and see my body fat percentage, and see how my weight fluctuates every hour of the day, I can't help weighing myself. Like three times a day. Mostly because I'm curious (and because it's new).

One night as I was contemplating the fluctuation of my weight and the murmuring of my tummy from sugar overdose, I realized something tragic. I have been running consistently for 3 months and I have not lost a pound.

Some may say that is wonderful. I eat like crazy. I eat whatever the heck I want, whenever I want, however much I want. Then I run like crazy and stay the same weight.
Some may say that's terrible. Running like crazy for 3 months and haven't lost a pound? Wow. What's wrong with you.

Honestly, I don't really care too much that I haven't really lost weight. I feel amazing. I feel beautiful. I feel strong. I feel very fit and in shape. I am very pleased with my body right now. However, I have a terrible sweet tooth, and I really hate how I feel after I eat too much sugar: sluggish, bloated, icky, gross, tired, etc. So I wrote myself a contract.

I'm a sucker for new clothes. I love getting new outfits and I have been feeling very untrendy and unfashionable lately, so a new outfit is the perfect reward for me. I also know that it is nearly impossible for me to enjoy celebrating two birthdays with no cake, so I thought two exceptions would be alright.

Anybody want to join me in this quest? It is so much easier to accomplish a hard goal when you have friends right there beside you working toward the same thing. Let me know if you want to join and we can keep each other motivated!

Here's to 32 days without treats!

Color Run: The Good, The Bad, The Hollywood Stunt Double

This has been quite the running year for me.
The first time I recorded a run was on May 9, 2012. I ran 3 miles in 35 minutes.
Since that first recorded run, I have completed:

-My first nonofficial-official 5k, in 28:20
-My first official race, 10k, in 1:00:06
-My longest distance ever: 10.13 miles
-My fastest run ever: 3.12 miles in 26:48

I have logged 205 miles on my shoes.
I have ran 2,074 minutes.
All this in just 14 weeks, 3 days.

My race of all races is only 5 weeks away. My end goal. My reason for training. My dream.
My first 1/2 marathon.

Enough with the dramatic stuff.
Today I was the most enjoyable run I have ever completed!

THE COLOR RUN!!!

(psst, new highlights! LOVE.)

"Yeah, that sun is really bright..." and so is my shirt!

Color Runners before getting colored!

Us girls, pretending to be strong.

Jaron.  Being strong. With a bulging arm. 

The Bad:
Waiting in this line for 50 minutes before we could actually start "running."

Serious walls of white.

"Hey mom, I'm really bored. Get me outta here!"

The boys.

See the lack of wrist band and bib on my husband?

He may or may not have just blended in with the crowd and ran the race. Free.

The girls.

Happy family!

Getting ready to go...

Bubs really wanted to hold this girls hand.

Bummer the shadow was in the way.

The Good:

Finally  RUNNING!!!!!!

Along the 5k they had 4 color stations. At each station there was music pumping and people squirting bottles of colored powder on you. It was colorful clouds of fun!

Except when they decided to spray it right in Bubs' face. Twice. Poor kid!

Also, I did not push the stroller the whole way. But you can pretend I did...

Streets FULL of Color Runners!

The Hollywood Stunt Double:

I wish I had a video. Or picture.

About halfway through the race, we came up on a lady with a sign that said it was her birthday. So we wished her a happy birthday. When I turned my face to present the wishes, my eyes unfocused on the road. Which meant I failed to see whatever it was that tripped me.

In slow, movie-style, motion I stumbled and fell toward the ground.

As I was falling I was thinking "Oh no! I can't break my knee! Or my arm! I must. roll. now.!"

I caught myself lightly with my hands and flipped my right hip under to tuck into a side roll before popping myself back up.

It was amazing. Even though I didn't see it.

I just knew.

Also, it happened in front of hundreds of people.

And they all cheered for me. 

It was definitely spectacular.

My colored boys!

Yes, Bubs did kinda have fun.

After the color.

I wish I were actually that tan on my arms...

Favorite. Picture. Ever.

Me: "Okay, now smile!"

Mr. Man: "No. I don't want to."

bahahaha.

Something about sticking the hip out that erases masculinity.

Our whole Color Running group.

If you think it looks like we had fun, you're right. 

We had a BLAST!

I'm not sure why we decided to do cartwheels. 

And take pictures of them.

There must've been something in that colored powder...

Oh, the pits.

Techni-colored hair.

Techni-colored face.

Last of all, a special treat. I never post videos, so here are THREE! for your viewing pleasure. Just to give you an even better idea of what our morning was like.

running.

color party.

Bubs dancing.

We had such a good time. It was fun to be goofy, silly, and crazy. It was especially fun because Mr. Man got to run with us.
So now, after such a fun time, it's time to buckle down and gear up for 13.1 miles on September 22!
Bring it ON!!!


p.s. I think Aviator sunglasses are most definitely cool. What is your opinion?

Controversial Wednesday

We had a conversation last night at the dinner table with our 19 month old Bubs. It went something like this:

Us: Do you want to eat some grilled cheese?
Bubs: Nooo. *head shake*
Us: Do you want to eat some Salmon?
Bubs: Nooo.
Us: Do you want to eat Kaiya (the dog)?
Bubs: Kaiya! Kaiya!
Us: Do you want to eat the Cars?
Bubs: Cars! Cars! *smile*
Us: Do you want to eat some cookies?
Bubs: Coo-keeah. *grin*
Us: Do you want to eat some pizza?
Bubs: Nooo.
Us: Do you want to eat some strawberries?
Bubs: Nooo.
Us: Do you want to eat ice cream?
Bubs: Eye cshrm. *grin*
Do you want to eat some fries?
Noo.
Are you done?
Ah duhhn.

Since when did our child become so ridiculously smart?

Now, how 'bout some controversy for your Wednesday?

A friend of mine suggested I download the Instagram app on my phone so I could join and share pictures with our friends. I thought that sounded fun, so I did. Then when I tried to sign up and register, it kept saying: "error. Too many users already registered on this device." So I googled the problem.

I was disgusted at what I found.

No, it wasn't something gross or inappropriate. It was how rude and inconsiderate people in this world have become.

You see, I did not realize this, but Instagram started as an iPhone specific app. Something special that only iPhone users could have and be a part of. Earlier this year, in April I think, the developers of the app decided to expand their consumers to include Android users. They launched Instagram for Andriod phones and some of the responses from iPhone users was shocking.

Comments and tweets like: "Ewwww. Android users are getting Instagram now too. Gross" source, "Blame Android users for Instagram messin' up!", "Man, Android users getting instagram is like the losers in high school taking over the cool table in the cafeteria!" source

Repulsive.

There was even the senior VP of Apple that publicly left Instagram because Android had it now. source

It made me so mad! Yes, I do have an Android smart phone. And guess what? It's great. iPhone's are great, too. I was just amazed at how elite some iPhone users think they are. What makes you having an iPhone better than everyone else in this world? And why do you have to be rude about other people not having what you have?

I'm not bashing on the iPhone here. 

I'm also not bashing on someone because they have an iPhone and use Instagram.

I am expressing my complete astonishment at how vile it is when people truly believe they are better or have something better than someone else. 

(did their mom's forget to teach them that there is always someone better with something better and someone worse with something worse than you?)

I feel sorry for the people who have made these harsh and catty comments. I wonder what could possibly be so askew in their life that they have to rudely degrade others in an attempt to make themselves feel better and look cooler. Clearly something is amiss.

I feel sorry for the people who live lives defined by the technological gadgets they own and who are insecure enough that they have to argue and whine about a stupid picture taking app so they can feel like they look cool.

It is just so unbelievably sad.

Tangent over.
No, I did not figure out what the problem was with my phone.
Not sure if I will, either. I don't really need another social media addiction in my life, anyway. :-)

And for the record? I am in no way, shape, or form, against iPhones or anyone that has an iPhone. I think iPhones are really snazzy. They have some sweet features and they are definitely cool. I don't care if someone has an iPhone or not. But, if someone does, I sure hope that it hasn't defined their life and prevents them from seeing the value in others, regardless of what kind of technology they use.

A letter to my puppy

A letter to my puppy:

Dear Kaiya,

You made my blood boil this morning.

It took every fiber of my being to refrain from severely injuring you.

You see, these are some of my most favorite shoes.

They are no longer wearable.

You are lucky I was distracted by leaving for the park.

You are more lucky that Dad was gone.

If you weren't so darn cute and cuddly, you might be on Craigslist right now.

Please do not ever eat my shoes again.

Particularly my heels.

Ever. Ever. Ever. Again.

I cannot guarantee the outcome of a repeat offence.

Sincerely,

me.

Give yourself a hug!

My body finally decided to rebel against my habits of the past two weeks.
I guess that watching the Olympics every night and going to bed at 11:30 pm, then waking up at 5:00 am to run is not really the best idea.
Especially combined with ice cream or cookie dough nearly every day.
I've been punished with a sore throat, sneezes, congestion, coughing, and exhaustion.
Serves me right, eh?

Today my dear sweet toddler decided it would be wise to throw my almost brand new smartphone off our balcony.

We live on the third floor.

It landed on concrete.

Screen down.

I almost had a heart attack.

Thankfully, I was smart and had bought a good quality case to protect it.

And protect it it did. Not a scratch or bump.

Phew.

About ten years ago, when I was training at DanceWorks Conservatory, I helped assist some 3-4 year old kids combination classes. After we did a routine, learned a new step, or performed a combination of steps, we would always say "give yourself a hug!" 

Ten years later, I'm reflecting on that seemingly trivial concept of giving yourself a hug. 

Oftentimes I get stuck in a rut of feeling like I'm not quite good enough, especially when it comes to being a wife, mother, and homemaker.

I start to think my family is eating unhealthy because we're not eating 100% organic, because I've made cookies, because we had pizza one night, because sometimes Bubs won't eat anything but chicken nuggets and applesauce, and because we don't always have oodles of veggies with every meal.

I sometimes start to feel inadequate as a mother because I'm not sure how to play with my toddler, because I don't do pinterest worthy activities all day long (or ever), because I'm not always reading to him, because I'm not teaching him the ABC's, because I let him watch Cars while I cook dinner.

I sometimes begin to feel uncreative because my apartment is lacking cutesy decor, because my bedroom has no color scheme or really no decor at all, because Bub's room doesn't have a thing on the walls,  and because sometimes the floor is consumed by cars, toys, and all things toddler.

Do you ever feel like this???
I'm gonna guess you do.
And it sucks.

So for right now, I want you to stop and think about what is really most important:

Happiness. Joy. Family. God.

not the perfectionism of all things Pinterest.

I want to encourage you, and myself, to stop those feelings of negativity, and just 

give yourself a hug. 

Pat yourself on the back.

Strut your stuff.

Proclaim your magnificence.

Chances are, you're not giving yourself enough credit for the things you're doing.

To the wife who feels like a crummy cook: at least you're cooking! Even one home cooked meal a week is better than nothing, and it really is okay if it's not organic.
To the couple who loves to bake cookies: what a great time to bond and enjoy a yummy treat!
To the mother of the screaming children at the grocery store: don't be embarrassed, many of us have been in your shoes and understand how you feel.
To the woman who gets tired of cooking and is stressed out: pizza for dinner has magical healing powers!
To the mother of a picky eater: if at first you don't succeed, try try again. Someday he'll realize the value of good food.
To the wife who feels like she can't keep up with life: it's okay to take a break and do something for you.
To the mother who feels like a mean mom for disciplining her kids: thank you for teaching them boundaries and limits.
To the woman who feels inadequate, unconfident, and unloved: guess again, you always have the love of God, and chances are, your family loves you too.

It's okay if your house isn't always spotless.
It's okay if you don't shop organic.
It's okay if you don't wear the latest trends.
It's okay if your child isn't perfect.
It's okay if you eat out for a meal.
It's okay if you don't have the cutest home.
It's okay if your kids are a little crazy.
It's okay if you're not the fastest, strongest, best, compared to everyone else.
It's okay if your life is not a Pinterest perfect story.

Please, for one moment, think about all the good you are doing, all the happiness you are bringing, and all the love you are feeling around you. 

Consider your accomplishments. 

Focus on your successes. 

Revel in the joy that is living, breathing, loving, and belonging to a family. 

And by all means, GIVE YOURSELF A HUG!!!

Emergency Haircut

For some unknown reason, I've been drowning in a blogging funk.
Perhaps it was the mere craziness of moving while attempting to stay afloat in many other responsibilities.
When everything calmed down, I wanted to blog, but I couldn't think of anything good to write about.

Moving? Don't want to beat a dead horse.
The heat? Too cliche.
Olympics? I couldn't share anything you didn't already know.
My curtain drama? Perhaps, but I feel I've been complaining a lot lately and need something more lighthearted.

Lucky for me, the perfect blogging story took place last night. In our living room. While watching the Olympics.

Rewind to several hours earlier in the day when a conversation took place:
me: I really need my hair trimmed. Would you rather me pay $20 to get it cut, or just have you do it?
him: Fine. I'll do it.

My dear friends: husbands in Chiropractic school are meant to be Chiropractors. Not hairdressers.

After I gave him (what I believe to be), a very nice haircut, it was my turn. Of course he forgot the conversation we had earlier, or maybe he purposefully put it out of his mind, and with some serious prodding he finally took up the shears.

Red flag #1: "I have no idea how to do this".
Red Flag #2: "Whoa, whoa, whoa, you have layers. How am I supposed to cut that?"
Red Flag #3: "So, is there supposed to be like a 1 inch or less difference between the layers?"
Red Flag #4: *hack, hack, hack, hack* silence. "how's it coming, babe?" "uhhh...."
Red Flag #5: "So remember the first time you cut my hair? And it wasn't very good? Well, this is the first time I'm cutting your hair, so it might not be very good..."


After what seemed like an eternity, I, thankfully, reached back to feel how much had been cut off. I'm not entirely sure whether I gasped or screamed, but I quickly urged him to stop. He was more than content to do so.

source

For the protection of myself and my husband, I did not take a picture. 

Just imagine 3 distinct layers. In three straight lines. An inch above each other. No blending.
Lucky for me, our downstairs neighbor is LDS, has a hubby in Chiro school, and is also a hairdresser.
She got a late night phone call:

"So, uh, I wanted to save some money so I had my hubby cut my hair and uh, can you fix it?"
"How bad is it?"
"Well, I won't wear it down until it's fixed..."
"Ooh. Yeah, that's kinda bad. Come on down and I'll fix it." 


At 9:30 pm, I got an emergency hair cut.
His parting words as I headed downstairs: "tell her it's not my fault!"
I think he felt bad. Maybe a little embarrassed. But I was most definitely not mad. In fact, I was giggling pretty hard. So was my friend who fixed it.
I also felt much better after she told me stories of many other wives doing the exact same thing.

Moral of the story with my hair?: 

Always get it done professionally. 

Instead of trimming off about 1/2-1 inch like I had planned, it's now about 5 inches, or more, shorter.


And just a little reminder to myself: when messing with my hair, in my experience, trying to save a buck by doing it at home typically results in an emergency trip to the salon to get it fixed, which then becomes more expensive than had I gone to the salon in the first place.

I know because my hair has been bright yellow-orange before.

Dear hairdressers: 

I promise I will never cut or color my hair at home again. 

But it all worked out in the end, because now I have a super cute haircut that I absolutely love! Now, to just get it colored...

Kinda gives an idea of what it looks like.

I hate self portraits.