Prime Time + Ramblings

Occasionally I write about more than running plans and the craziness of motherhood. Occasionally. Spring time is my favorite – there’s the element of renewal and new growth, the promise of warmer weather and snow cones! A genius invented syrup-covered ice! Fall is by far my favorite time of year, but spring definitely has its perks.

how’s your life insurance policy?

For example, flowers! Specifically, jonquils. Not daffodils. The caveat here is because of the subfreezing temperatures we experienced mid-February the jonquils made their on time reveal then promptly (and I mean within days) shriveled and died. Anticlimactic. I’m truly devastated. Those are my forever favorite flower; they bloom on or near my birthday each year and I adore seeing them. Poof. Gone.

In terms of weather, it couldn’t be more perfect minus those random, severe, possibly tornadic storms. The little things, you know. Why do they always happen near or after bedtime? Could they not be more sympathetic to my need for sleep? A racing heart doth not good sleep make. Oh, Texas, why can’t you just get it together!

more branded stuff

Not so long ago, Morgan (with the near to my own birthday) asked if 35 meant we were officially in our “prime”. Before I could give it too much thought, lest she think I was indeed giving it too much thought, I emphatically replied “Of course!” Because I know very little about many things. But when I actually intended to overthink this idea of being in one’s prime – “the beginning of our prime” as she clarified – I decided it’s true. I really don’t know much.

And if that one sentence doesn’t sum up this blog in a neat and tidy package probably nothing will!

_________________

I ask you –

Seriously, who invented snow cones?

How much do meteorologists earn? Bet it’s not commission based!

Prime number? Prime age? I’m saying yes!

Oh Where…is My Hairbrush?

It’s not unusual I find odd things in my purse, but sometimes I crack up at the scavenger hunter’s dream it has become. Fruit snacks? Check! Hair ties and barrettes? Check, Check! Sunscreen? Got it! Random banana? I have one of those! You just never know what you’ll find.

My Navy days have never let me down in terms of hydration. Though I’ve been known to let myself down. Water is a staple. I go nowhere without it. Luckily a huge purse can carry water bottles, too.

Something about springtime or maybe it’s just spring training makes me crave sandwiches. I grew up hating sandwiches so this is a big deal. Bread = yuck. Cheese = double yuck. Slowly I’ve come around to the adoption of the sandwich as a viable food option. Pile it high with vegetables and add “special sandwich sauce” aka Boar’s Head Deli Dressing. Ta-da! A sandwich connoisseur I am! Surprisingly the training hunger hasn’t kicked in. Yet. But it shouldn’t be too long until it does. Then the real fun begins. I’ll take a baker’s dozen of donuts, please! No, I’m not sharing these!

Maybe instead of “I Met All My Husbands in the Police Report” I should start with something easier to digest, like “The Sandwich Stories!” Would I become a food blogger then? Nah. Seems like a lot of pressure for someone who really only wants to cook chicken and fish and vegetables. Maybe next time.

_________________

I ask you –

Are you the familial stuff holder?

What food did you despise as a child but love now?

Name the craziest thing you’ve found in your purse or pockets!

What I Really Miss!

Lies of Motherhood and other things they said I would enjoy but do not:

You’ll miss: getting kicked in the back or spleen or forehead whilst co-sleeping
You’ll miss: spending hundreds of dollars to dress them each season
You’ll miss: the level of exhaustion that comes from any sentence beginning with “Help Me”
You’ll miss: being bitten during breastfeeding
You’ll miss: throwing snacks at them like wild animals poised to attack
You’ll miss: a snarky ‘Why?!’ when asking them to do anything (including the things they WANT to do)

Truth be told, there’s people even funnier than me. And I don’t say that lightly. Here’s where I’d like to share I’m a tough crowd, that it takes a lot to make me laugh. But that’s a big lie! I laugh at everything: you, me, the dream I had last week where I literally woke myself up laughing loudly. Let’s not forget I’m still laughing about what made me laugh at my dad’s funeral nearly 25 years ago. I just now nearly made a joke that started with “we’ve got a live one” but I see I’m talking about a funeral so live one jokes might be a bit much.

Considering starting a spin-off of Running on Fumes titled “I Met All My Husbands in the Police Report”. Perhaps it won’t be received well, but I’m overflowing with great ideas! Also, did you know there is a limit to how many espresso shots Starbucks will give you before they cut you off?! Me neither! And it’s 12. Now you know.

I leave you with this: A woman was asked ‘What is the best thing about being 104 years old?’ She replied: ‘No peer-pressure.’

______________

I ask you –

What on my list reasonates with you?

Do you think my spin-off title will endear me to anyone?

Share your best joke!

Day in Photos, pt 921

“Day in Photos” started when I realized there were a lot of photos in my phone that maybe didn’t fit whatever topic I was writing about during the day/week. Now look at it. Just look at it! It’s become a successful way to share a whole bunch of photos, very few words, and still count as a blog post!

Let’s begin –

brand

I’m madly in love with my logo and what my sister gifted me with on our birthday: branded apparel. I truly enjoy advertising for other small, local, women-owned, military-owned, etc brands – and will continue to do so – but I also need to share my own!

oh the drama

No matter how many times I say ‘the foam roller is not a toy’ it never fails to become a group activity. Not really a group type of girl. Solo foam rolling is much appreciated. Unbeknownst to me, some people have no clue what a foam roller is or what it does. All I can say is it hurts so good!

sister, sister

Leaving you with this photo of my twin. It’s been nice catching up lately. Never a dull moment when she’s around!

_______________

I ask you –

How often are you shocked at the number of phone photos you have amassed?

Are there items in your home with the designation “not a toy'”?

Tell me your sibling(s) name(s)!

Daughter Date!

Trampoline places are the equivalent of a relatively inexpensive way to discover you have a weak pelvic floor. Also, supportive sports bras should be required. Some women will regret their choices tomorrow.

Having a “date” with my (only) child somehow always ends with ice cream. And by ends I mean ice cream is the whole point of the date! There are few rules on girl’s date night/day so ice cream could be at 9am or 9pm. I make the rules around here. Braums is our regular hangout, but Dairy Queen will do in a pinch. We didn’t have Braums on the east coast so I’m making up for lost time. According to my internal ice cream tracker, I’m behind approximately 6.76 years.

Speaking of daughter dates, it would be sad not to include my childhood best friend in this post! Morgan and I grew up together. She remembers my Dad, that’s how far back our friendship goes. If you’ll recall, she and I ran the 2018 Rock n’ Roll New Orleans Half Marathon, as well as this past December’s Stars at Night Half Marathon in San Antonio. Morgan has a huge heart and I’m so thankful for her friendship! Her love of Mexican food is my next favorite thing. Bonus: her birthday is 2 days after mine. I’m sure our parents were just overjoyed when we ingeniously thought of joint birthday parties.

You’d think after nearly a year of part time teleworking we could get this figured out. You’d think, but… My work from home days are still a confusing piece of the week mixed with a little frustration, lots of annoyed looks, and sometimes some tears. Lucky guess on what belongs to whom. I’m eternally grateful to games, letter boards, badminton, and whatever the above photo shows of this shaker glue thingy. It makes it to where I can get approximately 3 minutes of work done before moving on to the next thing or playing maid.

I’ve heard it said going to work is hard. I disagree. Staying home is harder. And somehow louder. Yet the 3 mins to do some work before interruption is still the same. Imagine that.

__________________

I ask you –

Do you have regular dates with your child(ren)? How often does it include ice cream?

Did you and your childhood best friend bond over a close birthdate?

Happy St. Patrick’s Day shenanigans!

Wanna…Go for a Bike Ride?

Cross training? What’s that? Admittedly, I know I should be cross training during a training cycle, but usually what happens is I get so focused on running, it’s all I want/make time to do. Terrible, Coach.

This time, I’m following my own tried-and-true advice! Instead of walking or, my personal favorite, more running – introducing cycling! Let me tell you my quads were sufficiently sore after only 15 mins of cycling. The glute pain lasted much longer. Seems cycling mimics downhill running very well which will be super helpful at May’s Texas Triple because there’s a short section on each lap that kills my quads! If you allow it to happen, turnover on the downhill portion will have you running a 5 min/mile. Athletes who regularly do this are mind blowing. P.S. the number mentioned isn’t a guess, I personally saw my watch register this pace as I was flying down the hill. Exhilarating and a little scary! Stopping? Impossible!

As usual, I digress. Regular cycling should be helpful this time around. Worst case scenario: I develop overly muscular quads and thighs then run like a wiener dog. Unlikely. These bird legs of mine have required much of me to embrace.

In terms of cycling, guess who has almost successfully taught her mini to ride a bicycle sans training wheels?! It’s me!!! Pretty sure the very core of my patience has been tested, as well as every muscle in my lower back from leaning over her, but, HEY!, she’s almost there! Who needs to stand upright anyway?! She’s making great strides, no pun intended. Relatedly, I heard a story of a young lady turning 6 years old a few weeks ago and she thought upon her 6th birthday, she would somehow inherently know how to ride a bicycle then. Like – POOF! She also thought she’d be much bigger at that point, too, so here we are.

My birthday is this weekend. Lucky 13. I’m not sure what I ever envisioned mid-30’s looking like, but I hope I wake up that morning with the ability to whistle loudly! POOF!

_____________________

I ask you –

Will cycling give me Dachshund-style legs?

How old were you when you learned to ride a bicycle? I was probably 4-5 yrs old. My siblings told me to sit on a “big bike” then proceeded to push me down the front walkway. It was sink or swim time and I was full speed ahead from then on!

Tell me your lucky number!

The Talk / History Lesson

In current world news, on today’s newest episode of “I’m seriously not qualified for this job!”, I’ve been tasked with talking to a teenage girl about how underage drinking and smoking are very serious and should not be taken lightly. Great, just great. Not qualified, under qualified, whatever you want to say. This was not included in the parenthood guide! Well, maybe it was, but the kind doctors and nurses simply forgot to give me mine when they gave me all the other paperwork to complete post-birth. I was robbed!

I’m not cut out for the enormous responsibility of these oh-so-important life talks. I genuinely don’t know what to say. But then I think back to working with children from unimaginable hardship. In a leadership position, I climbed my way up; somehow I did it then. Younger, more confident perhaps? Now I just sit here cringing, thinking WHY ME?! Again, I’m not qualified. No joke, Kel. My mother told us the story of her father finding out she smoked. She said her father made her smoke an entire cigar (his poison of choice) as punishment/lesson learning/complete craziness if you ask me. She said it was awful. Plot twist: it didn’t make her quit smoking though. She just learned she didn’t like the taste of cigars. Seriously not helpful, Mom. I can, with complete honesty, say I have never smoked anything. Not once. The smell of cigarettes gives me the feeling of all the oxygen being pulled from my lungs. Can’t make this up. I literally feel like I can’t breathe. And I can smell cigarette smoke from other cars if sitting in traffic. Weird, I know. Smoking may be the grossest habit anyone can have. But it is a habit and I know too many who have struggled to quit because it’s truly an addiction. As for drinking? Let’s just say – when I think back to what I used to do, I’m lucky to be alive; we’ll leave it at that.

The advice given to me was to talk about the safety aspects: cancer, juvenile record, even death. Sounds harmless, no pun intended. I feel like if I cap it off with a sentence sounding like ‘I was once your age and I did the same things, blah blah blah’ then it’s a well rounded conversation. Yet somehow this feels like a giant cop out – back to the unqualified statement. On the subject again of my misplaced parenthood book, it probably states do not include stories of your own teenage misadventures. But I imagine it doesn’t give you other available options either. Those of you in possession of this elusive book, feel free to chime in, please.

There’s no winning here, is there? I suppose we just do what’s best in the moment, hope it turns out alright, and pray our children don’t end up in a mess only a miracle can fix. But there is a little voice inside me screaming ‘I’ll be damned if my child behaves this way!!’. She probably will. Face it now, Kel. My time is coming.

___________________

I ask you –

Did you get a book?! If you did, can I borrow it?

Any weird adverse reactions to another’s addictive habits?

Tell me what I should say! P.S. this isn’t my child I’m talking to. She’s 4. Let’s not rush things.

Day in Photos, pt 204

More like “Week in Photos…” because I realized the amount of photos in my phone spans more than just a day. Let’s get started!

One person in serious condition, nine others taken to hospital after nursing home fire in Iowa Park

I’m no adrenaline junkie, but when in the right place at a terrible time, you throw on your coat, grab gloves and snow boots, and run a block to help remove nursing home residents from a burning building. It’s like bronchitis but with more coughing. Thankfully everyone is okay. I’m so blessed to have been able to help and speak with the kindest people. Ms. Joyce may never read this; however, she was inspirational in her strength and testimony of God’s power to save. Apologies on my terrible wheelchair driving abilities. She was very forgiving.

Super sledding! All the years of minimal snow really paid off. Could’ve left off the below freezing temperatures though. That vacation home at the ocean wouldn’t even have saved me this time. We got a lot of laughs moving to Texas with 3 snow boards. haHA! Who’s laughing now?!

But there have been many gems of awesomeness to exit the mouth of my baby. At day 2 of no internet connectivity, she exclaimed in true dramatic fashion “Total darkness!” I make her walk uphill, barefoot, in the snow, too.

She also enjoys speaking into the 1-way handheld scanner as if the police department can hear her. If anyone is searching for her channel, she can be reached at her handle, “Kaylee Donut Lord”. I kid you not.

When I shared with mini that her dad was sick, went to get medication for himself, and ended up with a cracked windshield, she said “Why didn’t he call JG Wentworth?” so they could “give him money!” She has all the life advice you could ever need.

Lastly, it took a few too many days for us to realize the noises originating outside were not from birds hitting the windows but instead from an explosion of soda cans. Apparently the mini fridge was not insulated. This must be how the local 7-11 makes slushies. Now you know.

_____________________

I ask you –

Is your phone overcrowded with dozens of random photos?

Need some life advice from a 4-year-old?

Happy to be back in the 50°/60° temperatures this week. Hallelujah, we made it!

Thoughts in the Morning

Some days I wake up overwhelmed with thankfulness. Granted some days I also wake up confused and exhausted. Overall, though, the early morning hours hold my best, most sincere, well thought out prayers. In the quiet moments before the world gets loud and busy, I’m able to write, think, and prepare for the day ahead. He meets me exactly where I am.

If negativity is a mindset, then it’s my duty to remind you this: so is joy. What a life-changing moment when I stopped (try) to remember we are all flawed humans living in an imperfect world. I ask for joy to permeate hearts rather than lambasting the flippant words of a hurt heart. My lightbulb began to flicker, then roared to full power.

Suddenly there was a change! Perhaps it was my viewpoint which also needed a tune up…when we change our own thoughts, those of others can be changed, as well.

There’s no moral to this story except to choose joy. At all times. In each moment. And especially when around others. One kind word can be the difference between speaking life or death over another. How tough is it? Immeasurably. Not for the faint of heart – or them who dislike going all in – it’s a true commitment. I am only human and fail often.

Resolve to find happiness in even the trying-est of times. Recently I attended a funeral for a man I might have met once, but was a blessing to other family members. He lived a brave life and his battle with inner ailments ultimately overpowered his body. Even though I didn’t know him personally, those that spoke of him expressed much joy for his life. To be remembered in such a way would seem to be the highest honor. The jokes they had about him, his wife…really his whole family…wow!

And because every serious post here must be accompanied by some humor as only I can achieve…I kept my lips locked tight before, during, and after the service so as not to endear myself to proverbial strangers as ‘that girl who said the wrong thing.’ Like I did the other day when my Mom told me “I got your PaPa back.” (If you’ll recall my grandfather passed on Election Day, fitting as it was.) My mother calmly reminded me my grandfather’s wishes to be cremated. But I still didn’t understand what she was saying. As the pause stretched on, she eventually answered my silent question; he returned to her in a small box. Now, he resides on a shelf. And still something about this strikes me as funny. PaPa is on a shelf. He was a small, elfin-stature of a man. Perfect, just perfect.

________________

I ask you –

Is there a mantra that carries you from day to day?

More often than not, do you wake up confused or thankful?

Elf of the Shelf reference notwithstanding, I’m sure my PaPa thought I was his funniest grandchild!

Dreamer + Sickness

In a sickness-induced haze, I dreamt the following post:

1. I’d love to create a bookstore/winery. Imagine this – floor to ceiling dark, wooden bookshelves with a vast winery stretching into the distance. Each room surrounded with oversized comfy chairs and a fireplace in each corner. You heard it here first.

2. I also want to own a bakery. Sugar is my first love. From the very first time I realized the magic that happens when you cream butter and sugar together, I knew I was destined to be a baker. I say again – who eats cookies and cries? There was that one time, but it was due to extenuating circumstances. I’ll name each sugar-laden delectable a long, gloriously ridiculous name like “marshmallow magic butterflies covered in unicorn glitter”. P.S. I hate glitter and marshmallows.

3. Combine the two previous ideas with a running store and coffee shop. Of course the name of my blog could serve this idea well. Because after imbibing in wine, coffee, cookies, and remaining sedentary for hours, you’re going to need a new pair of shoes!

Currently I’m accepting cash and PayPal payments to go towards the necessary functions of becoming a business owner of which I have little experience in doing, but I can learn!

my co-owner and I

Also, in case you were concerned, my husband may or may not have tried to get rid of me by killing me with his cooking. Jokes on him. We both ended up with what I presume to be food poisoning so either he really didn’t intend to also hurt himself or he screwed up the plates. haHA I live to make his life hard another day!

But seriously. Food poisoning sucks. And it wasn’t his cooking. I’d almost take gastro onboard a floating chunk of steel than ever do this again. Almost.

__________________

I ask you –

Which of the 3 options above is most likely to succeed?

Have you ever had food poisoning? Or gastro?

Just let me know if you’re willing to donate!