What's The Opposite of Tranquility?

  I had a vision of tranquility.....serenity.....peace....quiet....restfulness....sedateness.  The vision was there.  I had high hopes of it.  I even expected it. 

  I should have known better.  This is not my first rodeo.  I am not a newbie at this mommy stuff.  I shouldn't have been surprised or disappointed that my tranquility did not come to fruition.

This is what I envisioned would occur yesterday afternoon at the lake.....

....But this is not what happened.

I actually sat in this chair reading that book for about two and a half minutes.  Could've been less.

Yesterday after church, the boys began pleading to go bass fishing.  We live next door to my parents, who have a catfish pond.  We do not live next to anyone with a bass pond...therefore....to take the boys bass fishing would mean that we would have to load up fishing gear for all three boys.  I would also have to pack food, drinks, wipes, etc.  We would have to drive to the lake and get everything set up.  Bradley was working.  I had run a half marathon the day before and really wasn't in the mood to fish.  I wanted some R&R.  And I really wanted the house cleaned, too.

My vision for the afternoon was to clean up the house and then order pizza or something equally unhealthy and crash in front of a movie.

The boys vision of the afternoon was bass fishing at the lake and catching tons and tons of 'whoppers'.

So...I decided to compromise with them.

I told them that if they would help me clean up the house a bit by doing their chores, then I would carry them fishing.....on ONE condition.

The condition was that I did NOT have to bait a hook, remove a fish from a hook, or touch anything related to the fish.  I typically don't really mind doing the fishing stuff, but I just really wanted to chill for the afternoon.

My deal was that I would drive them to the lake and take pictures of the fish they caught and relax with my Kindle and read a book.

Tucker, being 13, agreed to handle anything fish related that the little boys needed help with.

They quickly agreed to this wonderful compromise and were beyond elated that I would carry them fishing.

We got the house kind of picked up.  The dishes were washed.  The floor mopped.  The toys picked up.  The counters wiped down.  The toilets cleaned.

So, we loaded up and off we went.

Within a couple of minutes of arriving, Carter caught this.....

....and then this.....

...and then another.

The boys had started a competition amongst themselves to see who would catch the most weight of fish, so they were desperately trying to reel some in. 

Carter was in the lead and the other boys were frantic.

 In their intense excitement, they ditched all previous offers to help each other take the fish off the hooks and I was left to step in to do it.

So....the Kindle was put back into the car.  The beautiful wicker chair sitting lakeside was abandoned.

And I became a fish photographer and hook remover.

We stayed at the lake for about 3 hours.  During the 3 hours......I tied on hooks, put on new bait, removed a hook from a finger, weighed fish and removed hooks from fish lips.

I read 4 pages of the book I brought to read.

Just so the record is straight....

I got totally cheated in the compromise I made with the boys.

My afternoon was not tranquil....or serene....or peaceful....or quiet....or restful....or sedate.
It was quite the opposite.

Oh, well.

Tranquility is overrated.

The Ballerina and Baseball Player in the Box

I did the unthinkable today. 

I opened the old photo box.

Whenever I open the old photo box, I am lost for the rest of the day.

I can't seem to stop flipping through the old pictures.

Each one is a moment captured forever on paper.

A moment that I instantly relive when I look at it.

I was just looking for one specific photo.

I tried to mentally prepare myself before I opened the box. 

I talked to myself.

Find the ONE picture....and then...

close...

the....

....box!

But, when I lifted the lid....

The very first photo I pulled from the stack was this one......

I actually gasped.

Out loud.

And then....

I put my hand over my mouth.

And I stared down at the photo of the little preschoolers in the baseball uniform and tutu.

I was taken aback.

Although, the kids are growing up all around me....

sometimes I forget how quickly they are changing.

The little baseball star is my 'little' Tucker.  Today, at 13, he looks like a young man in his high school baseball uniform.

And the little pig-tailed ballerina is my niece, Lauren, who is also 13 and is very much a young lady.

Always changing.....

Growing.....

...and every year that passes....

...they leave the preschoolers in the box farther and farther behind.

Split Personality Blogger

My blogging lately has been inconsistent...at best.

And when I DO get around to blogging, the topic has been running or healthy foods more often than not.  Yet, every single time I blog about running, exercise, healthy foods, recipes, or the likes...I feel ....hmmmm....what's the word?....Self-conscious?  Self-righteous?   Inadequate?  Off topic?

My escape to running is a part of who I am.

It is a part of what makes the the mom I am and the wife I am.  Running is the escape I use to release any stress that I may have from my day of teaching kindergarten, therefore it also helps to shape me into the teacher I am.

I cannot separate my life as a runner from my life as a Mom.

The two identities belong to the same person.

I am a Mom.

And I am a runner.

And I want to record the struggles and triumphs of BOTH.

But, I have recently started feeling funny about writing about running on my Mom blog.

I have been getting lots and lots of traffic to my blog from running websites, yet I continue to get traffic from Mom websites and my fellow Mom friends.

Several times recently, I have wanted to write something about running or training struggles, yet I resisted because I figured all the Mom readers would be annoyed by yet another running post.

And then, when I wanted to write a post about the boys, I have had some hesitations because of all the traffic I have gotten from fellow runners following my posts about running.

I figured that the running readers do not care a bit about reading about the boys and the readers who are there to read about the adventures in Momhood do not care about the running posts.

Yet, I care dearly about them both.

I wanted a place where I wouldn't feel like a fool posting about the struggles and joys that accompany running.

So, I have created a separate space.

A space that I can write freely about my adventures in running, exercise, and creating healthy foods.

I welcome you to join me as I record this other part of my life.

Please follow me there if you wish.

Mommy Miles

Zoo Pals

Our kindergarteners recently took a field trip to the zoo.  Let me just say......we were the cutest kids there!  No doubt about it.  Other people kept stopping us to comment on our adorable shirts.

We let each child choose their favorite animal.  Then, we used their handprint and painted that animal onto a yellow shirt for them. They were precious!

 Check out a few of them.....

We had some kindergarten cuties for sure!

Jacked Up Feet

  I laid in the bed last night until 2 am, unable to sleep because of my jacked up feet. I was moments away from taking a hand saw and cutting my feet off at the ankles to end the pain.  Luckily, I snapped out of my sleep deprived hysteria and took some Ibuprofen instead. 

I have been training for a half marathon that is coming up in less than two weeks.  Ack!  I have been pounding out the miles day after day in less than stellar shoes.  Well, actually...the shoes were perfectly great running shoes until I trashed them on a muddy trail run.

I then tried to fix them by washing the mud out.  I used hot water in the washing machine...which melted the plasticky stuff in the lining of the shoes.  They shrunk up to warped and wacky junk shoes.  They poked my heels, lost the rubber support in the soles and pinched my toes. 

I was mad at myself for ruining my good shoes, so I decided to tough it out.  I would finish the marathon training and get through the half marathon before I replaced them.

In my stubbornness, I have acquired blisters on 6 out of 10 toes, I have gotten "black toenail" on two toes....one of which has already fallen off leaving the bare nail bed behind and the other hanging by a thread, and my feet ache after every single run.

Last night was the straw that ended the boycott on new shoes. 

As I lay in bed, with every... single.... beat.... of my heart pounding in my toes, I vowed that I would not go for a run again until I could replace the torturous shoes.  This was not a decision I made lightly.  I was horrified at the thought of replacing expensive shoes that are only a couple of months old.

Nevertheless, I am committed to running.

I have registered for the race.

I have paid the fee.

I have a hotel lined up with my gal pals.

I have made arrangements for the boys.

I have trained.

And trained.

And trained.

So, at 2am last night.... I made the decision to buy new shoes.

After school today, rain was falling....which meant that baseball games for the night were cancelled.  I made the 45 minute trek to the nearest (and best) running shoe store....The Trak Shak.

The running shoe specialist watched me walk toward him and away from him.  He examined my stride and measured my feet.  I am certain that he made a little gasp when he measured my foot at a whopping size 11.  Then he told me all I ever wanted to know about my feet.

Not only are my feet grotesquely large, but I also learned that I need extra "support".  I need this support because of my "overpronation in my stride" and because my "arch collapses when I strike the ground".

Good Heavens!  No wonder my feet have been hurting!

The specialist brought out three different shoes for me to try that were designed specifically for my kind of jacked up feet.  They even came in my honking big size!

I picked the Brooks Adrenaline GTS Running Shoes that are made with extra cushion and support.  They feel dreamy.

When I climbed into the car with my new shoes in hand, I texted Bradley to tell him all about my excitement of buying my new shoes.  I told him about the shoe specialist saying that I had an "overpronation and arch collapse" in my stride.

He sent back via text....

"I was thinking that myself, but I just didn't want to offend you by pointing out your overpronation.  I thought it might embarrass you."

Thanks, dear.

Hopefully, when I go for a run tomorrow in my new shoes and then collapse into bed, I will not feel the urge to dismember my jacked up feet.

Blogger: Missing In Action

  I know. I know.

Everywhere I go I hear...."You haven't been blogging lately."

Believe me, I am aware of this.

 The memories of the last few weeks have gone completely unrecorded.  I wish I could somehow magically fit everything I wanted to fit all into a day, but somehow it doesn't work that way. 

Blogging has been recently ignored because of the time we spend watching this this pitcher......

And this little catcher.......

And this big boy #13 on the high school team.....

And if I ever find a spare chunk of time in the afternoon, I spend it doing this......

I have the Nashville Half Marathon coming up in two weeks.  I haven't exactly found enough chunks of time to feel prepared for this endeavor, so during the upcoming two weeks, I will likely continue to be a Blogger MIA. 

I do what I can. 

I write when I can fit it in.
 I don't regret a single minute I spend watching my boys play ball and have never once said,

 "Gee, I wish I hadn't gone for a run today."

Recording the memories sometimes gets pushed aside because it takes all my time to actually make the memories.

Fascination With The CUP

  I am raising three very different boys.  All 3 born to the same set of parents.  All raised with the same rules and beliefs.  All 3 attend the same school and church.  All 3 are surrounded by the same people.

And all 3 are as different as can be. 

They have different likes and dislikes.  Different temperaments.  They show love in different ways.  They have different strengths and weaknesses. Their differences fascinate me.  I could write for days about their differences, but I won't do that right now.  I am only pointing out their differences on the baseball field.

All three boys like to play sports and are a part of practically every sport team offered in our area. This is one way that they are all similar. It's just how we roll.  Baseball is the sport we are playing right now.  Tucker is on the high school team and plays short stop and third base.  Sawyer plays "kid pitch" this year and is both a pitcher and short stop.  Carter has moved out of t-ball this year and is playing "coach pitch".

On the field, the boys all approach the game of baseball so differently.

Tucker is a thinker on the field.  He excels at the sport because before the ball is ever pitched, he has already thought through every possible scenario for what he should do with the ball.  When the ball is hit to him, he fields it clean and without hesitation. He makes the play at the perfect spot with impeccable timing.  His brains help him shine on the field.  If he ever makes a mistake, Tucker is very hard on himself and very unforgiving.  He takes losses personally.

Sawyer is a natural.  He steps out on the field and doesn't even have to think about what to do.  His moves are fluid and seem absolutely effortless.  Without even thinking, he makes the play at the correct base.  He has a natural instinct for the game.  If his team loses, he generally breaks down and is very upset.  He hates to lose more than he loves to win.  Sawyer's competitive nature keeps him at the top of his game at all times.

And then .... there is Carter.

Carter just simply loves life.  He is content with whatever the outcome of the game.  He is more often seen smiling at the crowd than he is watching the ball.  He thinks that his team does awesome at every single game, even if they stink it up.  He has all the self confidence in the world and proudly proclaims that he is a great baseball player.  He does not have a competitive bone in his body and is perfectly happy....win or lose. 

Carter loves to play sports, but I always wonder if it isn't the social aspect of it that he enjoys the most.  Upon announcement of practice time, the other two boys generally cheer and race to grab their gear.  They are disappointed from a rain out and totally bummed on "no practice days".   Carter is indifferent.  He is just as happy at home as he is at practice.  He seems to like wherever he happens to be at the time the best.  He has never been passionate about any sport like the other two are.

Well, never UNTIL......

....He was assigned the position of catcher this year.

Oh. My. Stars.

This kid is obsessed with his catcher's gear.

He played catcher two years ago in t-ball.  Basically because I was the coach and no one else wanted to play back there.  So, I stuck my own kid back there.  I know.  I'm a great Mom.

Anyway, he liked it back there. So, this year his coach asked the team if anyone was interested in playing catcher. His hand shot up.  He was pumped to have been given back his favorite spot.

After his first practice, Carter informed us that we would have to buy him a cup.  He said, "I need a cup to play catcher.  Girls don't have to wear 'em, but I do. Can you go buy me one?"

So we did.

And when we got in the car from buying it, he shouted....

"I can't WAIT to try on my cup!"

We all laughed at him, but then realized he was dead serious.

After we bought it, he 'practiced' wearing the cup many times.

He wore it around the house, out on the trampoline, playing in the back yard, and even watching TV.

He told us that real catchers wore their cups and he needed to get used to it.  He needed lots of practice wearing his cup.

The first few nights he even wanted to sleep in it.  After I shut that suggestion down, he settled for sleeping in the sliding shorts that the cup slides down into and putting the cup on his bedside table.

At the time, the cup was the only real catching equipment he had.

A few days later, we bought the whole shebang.  The complete set of catching gear.

You would have thought we handed Carter a set of tickets to Disney World.

Seriously.  He went bonkers over it.

We just thought he was obsessed with the cup.  Getting the whole set of gear brought his obsession to a whole new level.

So now, Carter is just as passionate about baseball as his brothers are.  Although it's more about the gear than the game, we are gonna roll with it.

So now, when the umpire asks the coach before the game..

"Is your catcher properly equipped?"

Carter's coach can answer "Yes" with the utmost certainty.

Play Ball!

Competitive Gene

  Is there a such thing as being too competitive?  Apparently so.  And..... I may be in trouble.  I found this article online in Glamour magazine. (Oh, yes it IS a very trustworthy source of health information...what do you mean questioning my sources?)  Anyway....here is a segment of the article....

Are you competitive? Would you label yourself as "aggressive" in terms of going after what you want? Here's the warning for people, our competitive nature may be slowly ... killing us.

Researchers who published a major study in Hypertension: Journal of the American Heart Association say that those who are most competitive are at increased risk for stroke and heart attack than folks who are more laid back.

The details: Italian researchers studied 5,614 Italians and found that those who scored highest for competitiveness on standard personality tests had a greater thickening of the neck arteries, an risk factor for heart attack and stroke.

Killing me??!!  Yikes!  That's harsh.

Thankfully, the article did go on to say that if your competitiveness is mostly geared toward your fitness and athletic competitions, that the competitiveness could in theory, be helpful instead of harmful.  The competitiveness gets dangerous when it spills over into friendships, your love life, and everyday tasks.  I think I may not die from being too competitive after all.

I have always known that I inherited my Dad's competitive gene.  All through grade school, I wanted to have the best grades.  In high school, I wanted to be the best softball player on the team....or even the county.  I always felt let down if I didn't get chosen for something or didn't win something. And I don't think that competitive tendency has disappeared over the years.  It still rears it's head up on occasion.

My competitive nature was in full force this past Saturday night.  I entered a unique night time trail run with two of my friends.

The idea of the run was that teams would compete out on the trails in the dark.  The event coordinators had hidden 12 books along the trails marked with reflective tape to be seen only in the dark.  Runners were to head out onto the trails wearing headlamps and run the trails in search of the hidden books.   When a hidden book was found, teams were instructed to tear out the page of the book that corresponded with their team number.  We were team #30, so we were to remove page number 30 from each book and bring it back to the finish line at the end.

Some hints to the books' locations were emailed to runners prior to the race and others were sent via text message during the race.  Prior to the start of the race, using the clues, we had determined that there was one book hidden on each of the trails that covered the mountain.  To collect all 12 books, our team would need to split up to cover all of the miles of the trails in the 3 1/2 hour time limit.

Our basic plan for the race was that I would cover the longer trails alone and my partners would cover some of the shorter, more challenging trails as a pair.  In the end, we hoped to find about half of the books each and meet back at the finish line as winners.

Our plan started out great.  I headed off on the first trail and within minutes found the first hidden book.  I ripped out page #30 and tucked it into my running belt.  I texted my team and alerted them that the first book was found.  I conquered the second trail, Buckeye Trail, and found book #2 almost as quickly.  I jogged on to my third trail, which looped around a wetlands area.  I was stumped a bit when looking for this book and ended up looping around the trail three times before finding book #3.  I moved on to Sandstone Ridge Trail which had some really steep inclines and grabbed book #4 at the top of the trail. 

On my way down this trail heading to my next trail is when I got the alert from my team that they had struggled to find their first book, but had finally located it.  We were now up to 5 books as a team.  I continued on to a long leg of my trail running and covered the Pipeline Trail, which was almost two miles round trip.  Then, Lizard Loop Trail, which was a mile long loop that I ended up running twice because I couldn't find the book the first time.  Locating the book on Lizard Loop was insane.  The book was hidden well off the trail and I had to cross a running stream to get to it.  I ran the rest of the night in shoes and socks saturated with mud, but I was determined to find the book for the team.

After all this trail running is when my competetiveness and determination really took over.  I really picked up my running pace and backtracked some of the previous trails to get to a new section of the mountain.  There were books hidden on The Crusher Trail and The Ridge and Valley Trail.  I looked at the trail map and realized that these were the most challenging trails on the mountain, but I was NOT going to let my team down.  I had books to find!

So I headed off on Crusher Trail and found the book fairly easily, despite the changes in elevation and the fact that I somehow ended up off the trail and was lost for a brief period of time.  I had now found 6 of the 12 books.  I had an hour left to return to the finish line.  I had one last trail to conquer....The Ridge and Valley Trail.  The trail map describes it like this.....

Ridge and Valley Trail (1.5 miles)

Our most demanding trail, it goes through 1000 feet of elevation change over its length. You will cross several small streambeds as you hike.

About 3/4 of the way through the Ridge and Valley Trail.....I thought I was going to die.  I was out of water in my water bottle.  My legs were ON FIRE from running the hills.  My body was exhausted.  I texted Bradley, who was at home with the boys, and told him.....

"I don't know if I will make it off this trail.  I haven't seen another human in forever.  I don't think I can make it back to the finish line. And I think I may even be lost or something.  This trail is sooo long."

But just as I was about to throw in the towel....I saw the faint glow of another person's headlamp.  The person ended up being the event photographer.  He snapped this picture of me as I was climbing yet another "Ridge" on the trail.

He had a thick Indian accent as he shouted...

"Hello, runner!  Are you OK runner?  I haven't seen any other peoples on this trail, runner.  I am take your picture, then I leave this trail.  Are you feel OK runner?  Yay, runner."

I have never been so happy to see another human as I was to see Suman the Indian at that moment.  He let me know that I wasn't lost in the the woods after all.  And I knew that I might make it to the book, get the page out, and get back to the finish line alive.

I continued running and finally got to the end where the most glorious book awaited me.  I cheerfully took the page and put it into my running belt.  I was more than elated to get to the end of the Ridge and Valley Trail to see that there was an alternative trail back to the finish line.  I think that if someone had told me that I would have to retrace my steps and run Ridge and Valley again, that I may have died right there on the spot.

I made it back to the finish line and my team mates arrived shortly after with the books they had found.  My legs were shaking like jello.  I was thirsty and hungry and exhausted, but I had had probably my best run ever.

I ended up covering close to 10 miles of trails in the dark and collected 7 of our team's 10 book pages.  Our collection of 10 hidden book pages was enough to win our team a 3rd place. 

For the past 3 days since the race, I have taken Ibuprofen every 4 hours to help with my aching muscles.  My legs have hurt so bad that I could barely walk.  I have never, ever been so sore from any exercise.

What did we get for this punishment to our bodies???

This medal.....

I know you are jealous.

And bragging rights for completing the race.

Was it worth it?

I don't know.

I'll let you know the answer to that when I am finally able to walk normally again without Ibuprofen.

Being Real About Teaching

  I'm just gonna lay it out there. 

The truth.

The truth is that most days, I am a pretty stinking good teacher.....not to toot my horn, but I just really enjoy what I do.  I think the Big Guy Upstairs picked my occupation for me as he was creating me. I was born to teach.  I feel that Kindergarten is a wonderland.  A room bursting with eagerness and ideas and energy and excitement and enjoyment and paint and dirt and booboos that need kissed and playfulness and giggles and messy hair and sticky faces and bright eyes and big smiles.  My kindergarten classroom is the perfect combination of laughter and learning and it is filled with 18 unique little individuals who all need me in a different way.

The truth is that I take pride in a job well done.  I take pride in the fact that my class is as prepared as possible for first grade.

But the truth is that today....

I sucked.

I know that I just said the major bad "S" word. 

Sorry. 

But it's true.  I was major suckage today.

Nothing I tried to teach seemed to stick.  I almost had a nervous breakdown trying to teach one of my reading groups today because they just weren't "getting it".  The kids were beyond wild...probably because of the FREAKIN full moon.  I was cranky.  The kids were snippy with each other.  I was snippy with the kids.  I had NO fun ideas today.  We did NO art. We played NO games. I barely danced with them during music time. I completed the required lessons, but totally lacked any sort of pizazz.  Did I even smile today?  Probably not. 

Why? Because today.....
I was a loser. 

I stunk it up. 

I reeked. 

I sucked.

The good news is that I don't think I did any permanent emotional damage to any of my students.   They are a pretty forgiving bunch.  One student even said,

 "Mrs. Heptinstall, you are one of the bestest teachers I have had in my whole life."

I was relieved that she still loved me despite my numerous shortcomings today.

But then, I remembered.....
 I am the only teacher she has ever had in her whole life.

Good For You Ranch Dressing

Healthy Homeade Ranch Dressing

I overhead someone mention yesterday that they had found a recipe for homemade ranch dressing that was actually healthy.

Healthy Ranch?

Yeah, right.

I have seen Fat Free Ranch dressing and Light Ranch Dressing, but they are still full of preservatives and sugars and other stuff that is less than healthy.

I was curious, so I looked it up on Pinterest.

It took a bit of searching, but I finally found this super simple recipe that has only THREE ingredients!

1 cup Fat Free Cottage Cheese

1 Cup No Fat Buttermilk

1 Package Powder Ranch Dressing Mix

Mix in a blender/magic bullet until completely smooth.

This recipe makes two absolutely delicious creamy cups of dressing.

It has TONS of protein, zero fat, and very few calories.

So dip those veggies....guilt free!