Waiting...

So, Jeremy started on his long trip home yesterday. And I am impatient -- really really impatient -- and grumpy and impatient and stressed and impatient and restless and impatient. Did I mention that I'm impatient? I just cannot wait for him to get home! Of course, I should add that the last communication I had from him was earlier today and he was stuck not far from his origination due to a sand storm. I haven't heard from him since, so I'm hoping that means he is on a plane (as I expect he would have emailed me before heading to bed, which is where he should be at this time of day).

I've been cleaning like a mad woman for the last few days. My living room carpets have been shampooed. The inside of the windows have been cleaned (I'd do the outside, too, but know I just can't get it done before he gets home). I've washed just about every piece of bedding in the house (because he'll care if the boys comforters have a smudge of dirt on them -- which they usually do, even if they have been recently washed). I've swept and washed the entrance to the house and the screen porch. And Hannah and I both spent a good deal of time cleaning the pool yesterday (which is a chore I don't mind, since I then floated around in the pool in honor of the fact that it was sparkling clean).

Hopefully he'll get here soon, or I might run out of things to clean.

Woohoo!

As of today I have completed my 50 miles for the month of June! It really wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. Actually, it wasn't bad at all. Though the first two weeks when I ran 6 days a week were a bit rough -- by the end of six days in a row my legs were like jelly and ready for a break. I'm going to continue tracking, though, just to see where I can get by the end of the month. I think I might do this again in August or September, to help time pass until Jeremy gets home for good. I'm still trying to decide how many miles to then -- I might try 75.

A Bad Mommy Moment

Last night as I walked through the living room, I noticed a pair of running shoes on the floor in front of the couch. Hannah is HORRIBLE about leaving stuff lie around the house. At the time, she was in my room running no the elliptical. So, I went in and asked her why there was a pair of running shoes on the floor in front of the couch (and, yes, I was pretty snippy about it). She quickly got off the machine and went in to retrieve them. And in a flash she was back with them in her hand, eyebrows raised and a smug smile on her face. "Um, mom, I don't own any New Balance shoes.".

Yep, you got that right folks, those were my shoes...

Our week.

So, with Hannah here for the summer, things are certainly busier. She has swimming 5 days a week for two hours on the other side of town. This makes for early mornings and long days. I'm glad she enjoys the swimming, though, and don't mind the extra carting around. I've been using the time at the pool to get my running in. Anyone watching my tally? I'm 81% of the way to my June goal of 50 miles. I guess I could have made a more difficult goal...



The boys are having a blast with Hannah. I'm having a hard time keeping them downstairs, as they like to sneak up with Hannah whenever she goes up to her room. Earlier this week I went looking for the three of them and found them all sitting on Hannah's bed. Hannah was playing songs for the boys on her guitar. Isn't that sweet? I tried to get a picture of them without them noticing, but I was not successful. However, I did get a semi-decent one of them posing:




I've been craving fruit pies lately -- specifically, peach and blueberry. Blueberries aren't in season here just yet (though, I have plans to pick oodles this summer), so I settled for a peach pie yesterday. It was soooooo good. Pie crusts aren't something that has come to me naturally and I've struggled with them since I got married. However, I think I FINALLY have it figured out:

The crust was both delish and beautiful. For the last two years or so I was able to do delish but not pretty. Now I need to make some kind of a pie with a pre-baked shell and see if I can get that to work, too (my sides tends to slump into the pan during baking). Hannah's been asking for strawberry pie...maybe that will have to be on the menu for this weekend. Oh, and the best part of the pie? I made another batch of homemade ice cream (plain vanilla this time) to accompany it. Mmmmmm....

I have a slew of outdoor projects to do this weekend, namely moving some of my perennials in my back beds. I know a 100 degree isn't the best day to do it, but they are entirely too close to my sidewalk (which leads to the pool) and are blocking the path. The guara I planted are much larger than the tag at the nursery said they would be (must be my fabulous gardening abilities). And we seem to have a japanese beetle infestation that I need to take care of. Normally I try to avoid insecticides, but this time I'm going to have to use them. When you walk down the sidewalk you are just SWARMED with them. At least the kids theoretically shouldn't be in the flower beds so they shouldn't come in contact with any of the chemicals.

Seven down!

Today marks seven months of deployment for us. Only five to go!

I think I can, I think I can, I think I can...

I had a bad experience last week.

A very very bad one. One that really has upset me quite a lot.

Last Thursday, I ran to Walmart to get just a few groceries. The boys wanted to go, but Hannah and Lucy didn't. I generally try to keep the kids with me as much as possible, so even though I know that Walmart isn't the best place for them, I took them because they wanted to go. Bad idea.

Seriously, we were not in the store long. I mostly just needed milk (I think we went through 5 gallons last week, believe it or not). I got one of those carts that has two seats on the back, where the kids are sitting up kind of looking at each other. We were fine until Ross started poking and pinching Reid. Now, I couldn't let Ross out of the cart, because he won't stay near me and will NOT keep his hands off the merchandise. So, I made Reid get out. And he had a FIT. He cried (well, more like screamed) all the way from the back of the store where the milk was to the deli in the front. Huge tears were streaming down his face and several times he just stopped walking. (Did I mention he weighs 45 pounds and is just too big for me to carry anymore?). He was just completely ticked because he wanted to ride in the cart and had been behaving. I tried to explain to him that he wasn't in trouble (but would be if he continued with his tantrum) and why he had to get out.

Anyway, when we got to the deli, I got Ross out and let Reid sit again. There was a line and I figured I could hold or contain Ross while we were there and at the register and then at least I wouldn't have to listen to Reid's wailing. This seems to solve the problem. We get our lunch meat and head to the register, but I get distracted by a display of pears on the way there. This is where it goes down hill. As I'm trying to get my pears, Ross is digging through the pears as well. I do my best to keep him out of them, but then he starts LICKING them. So, yes, I ended up buying pears that I didn't want. And then I was TICKED. What is worse is that he knew it. And then he went to pieces. He would not walk to the register, but continued to drop his legs and hang by my side when I tried to hold his hand. So, my fix for that is to hold his ear. He may kick and pull when I'm holding his hand, but if I have a hold on his earlobe, he won't because it will hurt. So, we walk to the register in this fashion with my patience at zero.

And then, as we're waiting for the woman in front of us to pay, Ross starts trying to bite me. So, I pulled up on his ear pretty harshly, trying to keep his head at an angle at which his mouth can't touch me. And then he was even madder. At that point, I would have left, but we really truly were out of milk and just cannot survive without it. As the woman in front of me is paying, she looks back at me and, in a very nasty and condescending tone says "is that how your mother treated you?". And, no, it was not a question of concern. It was not a "calm down, it will be fine". It was a "I'm going to berate you in public" type question. And I lost it. I won't put what I said to her in writing, as I am ashamed of it, but it was not civil, polite or kind. In fact, it was down right vulgar. And while she deserved every bit of what she got, I shouldn't have said it.

The woman and I bantered back and forth several times while she finished, during which it became clear that she and the man standing behind her at the next register had been speaking quite unkindly about me while I was loading my groceries on the belt concentrating on getting out of there (gee, perhaps if you had offered to help me with the groceries instead of snidely gossiping, I could have devoted both hands to my child!). What she said that bothers me the most, though, is this: as she walked away, she turned around and in the rudest, snottiest and meanest manner said "well, I'll pray for you". It wasn't said in a manner of concern -- it was condescending and a terribly warped use of the phrase.

Needless to say, I came home and almost had a meltdown. Was I being too rough on Ross? Yes. Was I out of patience? Yes. Did I deserve at all her treatment? No. Why would anyone see someone STRUGGLING and step in to aggravate the situation?

The thing that keeps haunting me, though, is her prayer comment. This is exactly why lately I've felt like steering clear of organized religion (which I suppose I haven't posted about yet -- my basic beliefs haven't changed, but I am totally disenchanted with the church at this point). This seems to be the type of people I run into in the church the most (I said most, not all) -- people who talk a lot about acting like a Christian and then behave horribly to just those who don't live up to their expectations. The irony in this is that I was doing the same thing at the time. "Love is patient, love is kind..." right? Yeah, I definitely had veered off course. So, in reality I'm no better than her, yet I loathed that woman from the first words she spoke to me.

I suppose on some level I owe this woman a thank you. My patience with the kids has been pretty poor since Jeremy left. No matter how much help I get from my in-laws, my friends or parents, I just can't seem to reset myself without Jeremy here. I don't wake up feeling refreshed -- ever. And it is brutally apparent that I need to do something about that, even if the only thing I can do is to exercise more self control. The kids shouldn't be on the bad end of my temper for the next 5 months. Sigh...but she could have accomplished the same thing without tearing me down. And I could have responded to her in a constructive manner to let her know that her words were unkind and hurtful.

The whole thing just makes me feel icky thinking about it. I feel like a crappy person and I feel crappy about people in general.

Mmmmm....ice cream!

I can't remember if I mentioned this previously, but I got an ice cream maker attachment as a bonus with my new mixer. I've tried it twice now and it rocks. It makes a nice manageable amount of ice cream and is super easy. The bowl simply goes into the freezer and you pull it out when you are ready to mix the ice cream. I love that there is no need to break up ice or deal with slushy salty water. And best of all, there is no yelling about someone not cranking hard enough.


The first recipe I tried was for butter pecan from this site. The second was for a super rich chocolate brownie ice cream based (because I'm incapable of following a recipe without modifying it) off a recipe from the book "Perfect Scoop" by David Lebovitz (I love this book, by the way). Both were DIVINE and so much better than anything I've ever had in the store. I'm excited to try more recipes soon.


And here is a shot of Ross reveling in his chocolate ice cream. That face makes all the work worth while!

Now I have only one problem...what do I make next?