Gingerbread Houses

I am back-dating this post to January, because that is how old the pictures are.  The post really belongs with Christmas, and if I don’t put it close to that time frame, I’ll never find it in the archives.  Those who read me via a reader will probably see it.  Those who go straight to my blog probably won’t, so I hope to do a summary post after I finally publish all these old photos, so my mom and others don’t miss them.

The kids were given a free hand with their gingerbread houses.  I bought kits, because I did not have the energy to make them myself.  Bill assembled them one night, and then the next day we just let them go to town.  I think I know which belongs to whom; I definitely know three of them.

This one is Katie’s house.  There is lots of activity.

 Please note the man burying his friend in the snow.  One shovelful left to go.

 I can not identify the owner of this house.  Fritz? Mary? Jenny?  Fritz was very apathetic to the whole project, so lack of skill is no indication of artist in his case.

 This house with the Star Wars battle scene is definitely Billy’s.

 Note the figure impaled on the top of the Christmas tree.  Because nothing says “Christmas” quite like fantasy death and destruction.

 I don’t even know who the good guys are.

 But I trust that St. Nicholas is offering an appropriate blessing to the right side.  The angel, though, has more important things to look after.

 Rooftop duel.  Never take a light saber to a blaster fight.

 Not sure who made this house.  If I had to guess, I would think this understated one was Fritz’s and the really goopy one was Mary’s.  I think Jenny did a gingerbread train.

And now for Peter’s house.  Another one with lots of interesting things going on.  I think this one has a cop and robber theme.  Again, why such violent drama is included in what was supposed to be Christmas decorations is unknown.  I did mention that the kids were completely unsupervised on this project, right?

 When Peter showed me the house, I mistook the red icing going up the side as flames.  “The house is on fire?” I asked him.

“No, Mom,” he said in that offended tone of a misunderstood artist.  “That’s not fire.  That’s blood.”

Uh, Merry Christmas to you, too.

Establishing the Habit of Exercise

About five years ago, Bill had to leave for work by 530 am.  He usually didn’t come home until 7 or 8 pm or later, and was frequently out-of-town.  I was 1 year post-partum with Peter, and Fritz was only 8.  We didn’t own a treadmill or any other exercise equipment.  I was feeling the beginning effects of middle-aged, metabolism slow-down, and didn’t feel that I had fully recovered, physically, from Peter’s birth (in other words, I hadn’t lost the baby weight or the baby bump).  I had been walking or running several times a week before Bill had started that job with long hours, and was unhappy and resentful that this seemed no longer possible.  It was easy to blame circumstances for the extra 10 pounds and lack of exercise.

Eventually, I grew tired of blaming everything but myself, so I brainstormed what to do about my situation.

Exercise tapes?  Little floor space, presence of whiny children, and not my style.
Joining a gym with babysitting? Too expensive, required hauling 5 kids in and out of car.
Buying a treadmill?  Too expensive, little floor space, presence of whiny children.

I wanted to hire a babysitter so I could continue to walk or run, but that seemed expensive and once the kids woke up and the day began, life’s issues of school work and laundry and cooking always seemed more important.

Finally, what remained was the idea that I would have to walk or run early in the morning or late at night, whenever Bill was home.  I quickly opted for early in the morning.  For me, by the time it hit the kids’ bedtime, I was exhausted myself.  The only exercise I wanted to do was the crawl from the kitchen sink to my bed.

So, this is where I started my habit of running in the morning, first-thing.  Back then, the alarm went off at 415 am and by 430 or so, I was outside pounding the streets, with my running partner – Greta, our dog, who was young and very high-energy.  It was not long before she knew what that alarm meant, and as soon as it went off would start hopping madly around the room wondering why I wasn’t moving yet.  On the days I lacked personal motivation, I still managed to get up “for the dog.”

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Greta is now over 6.  She doesn’t like the heat, so in the summer, she dragged.  But once the weather got cooler, and especially now that we cracked down on the children giving her too much food so her weight is more within a normal range, her energy has picked up and she really enjoys running.  If I walk, she pulls on the lead, and I have to remind her to slow down.

But it has been years since the morning alarm has gotten her excited.  And it’s not even at 415 anymore.  Now, it’s 5 am before it goes off, and often it is 10 or 15 minutes before I get up.  Then I like to have a cup of coffee to gear myself up for the run.  The dog just stays in her sleeping area in our room until I get my shoes on.

Even then, I have sometimes had to say, “Come on!” before she gets up.

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This is the time of year when people resolve to give up bad habits and start good ones.  The thing is, it takes weeks to change our habits…not two or three weeks, either.  More like 6 or 8 or more.  Any plan for change has to account for this in order to be successful.  Based on my experience, here are the steps I think are necessary to develop an exercise regime that will be maintained and not discarded:

1. Schedule a time of day to exercise.  “Whenever I can” isn’t going to work.  “During the baby’s morning nap” might work, if the baby is a regular and sound sleeper, but think ahead to when he gives that up and what you will do.  Think about what time of day is best for you.  Experts say to not exercise close to bedtime, but if you are a night-owl, then working out at 8 pm might be fine.

2. Start small.  Sore muscles are a great excuse to skip the next day’s workout.  If you aren’t looking forward to exercising, you will be tempted to do anything else but it.  Better to establish the habit of an easy one mile walk every day first, and then take on the challenge of trying to run that distance – or to go farther – then to push yourself to run hard and fast, and give up in frustration.

3. Pick your workout wisely.  I love to walk.  I love to run, even if I am slow.  Biking hurts my tush.  I don’t have a pool or easy access to one, and I really can’t do much more than doggy paddle.  I’m not into group classes at the Y.  Sometimes I will bike, sometimes I will go to an exercise class.  Maybe some day I’ll learn to swim well.  But for now, for me, a program that centers on walking and running is one that I like, so it is one that I will do.

4. Set a goal.  Back when I started running, I decided to run the Army 10 Miler.  I had never run farther than 6 miles before that (and that was many many years prior), so I found a training program (I like Hal Higdon) and I followed it.  I reminded myself often that I wouldn’t be able to complete 10 miles for that race in 3 months, if I didn’t run my scheduled 3 miles today.  I trained for nearly a year to do that race – first working on the 5k plan, then the 10k plan, then the 15k/10 mile plan.

And after that, I stopped running for a long time – months.  But that’s ok.  I set another goal and got back out there when I started to miss it (and when I added 5 pounds). 

Don’t tie exercise goals to weight loss goals.  You will be disappointed.  Your exercise goals should be performance goals.  If you struggle to do even one sit up, aim to do 25 in a row.  If you struggle to find the time and motivation to exercise daily, resolve to walk 30 miles a month – some days you might do none and others you might do 2 or 3.  Maybe you want to run a ten minute mile – or faster.  Maybe you just want to get to the gym 3 times a week on average.

5.  Make exercise something you look forward to doing.  This is easiest to accomplish if it is tied to something enjoyable: great conversations with a walking partner, an energetic playlist or interesting podcast on your iPod, a break from the kids.  Some people watch their favorite show while on a stationary bike.  Some people love a competitive game of tennis.

6. Reward yourself for good behavior.  If you stick with an exercise program for a certain period of time or accomplish a goal, give yourself permission to celebrate.  I usually take off a whole week after I’ve done an 8 week Hal Higdon training schedule or after a race.  One hot fudge sundae in honor of completing your first 5k won’t add 2 inches to your thighs.  Smaller goals might only deserve a self-congratulatory pat on the back, but relish your success for a few days before moving on to the next challenge. 

7. Establish a form of accountability.  Whether it’s your dog or your neighbor, having a workout partner keeps you motivated to get out the door.  Having a sister or a husband or a friend regularly ask you about your progress helps, too.  Signing up for a 5k, hiring a personal trainer, logging your exercise online in a public forum are other ways to keep you going or get you back on track when you have a bad week.

8. Expect curve-balls.  Your whole family gets the flu.  Your husband’s work routine changes.  You get pregnant.  You can’t be so tied to your training plan or to your goals that life’s surprises completely derail your exercise routine.  You may need to take a week or two off, and you may need to decrease the intensity of a workout to deal with a temporary situation.  Other changes may require you to change your routine altogether.  Be committed to figuring out a new plan, whether temporary or permanent, rather than putting exercise on hold for the indefinite future.

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Exercise is a vital part of a healthy lifestyle that will keep you active well into old age.  If you are sedentary in your 30’s and 40’s, expect to remain sedentary in your 50’s and 60’s and beyond.  That’s not what I want in life.  There’s too much to do and see.

The Party’s Over

Not only is it time to go back to work and school, the unseasonably (even for Savannah) warm weather has come to an abrupt end.  They are actually using terms like “wind chill” – and they really mean it.  Last night, at bedtime, the temperature in my house was 72 degrees…and this was with the heater off, as it has been off for about 2 weeks.  In fact, I almost put the A/C on the other evening so it would be comfortable for sleeping, but we managed to do without, thanks to ceiling fans in every bedroom.

This morning, it was 66 degrees, which I realize is higher than where some of you folks with thick winter blood normally set it, but I am just not that tough.  Plus, I’ll never get the kids out of bed if it’s that cold.  Outside, it is 33 degrees (yes, yes, above freezing – but 20 degrees colder than yesterday morning) with wind gusts making it feel like 14 (which is cold, by most standards).

I’m drinking a hot cup of coffee and contemplating my morning run, which just doesn’t seem very appealing.

Resolutions and Predictions

On New Year’s Eve, we gathered around the coffee table and I had everybody make one resolution and one prediction for the new year.  I wrote them all down, sealed them in an envelope, and we’ll open it next year when we do the same thing.

Some of the resolutions were the standard fare: exercise more, eat healthier.  Some were fun: learn some magic tricks.  Some were challenging: be nicer.

With the predictions, nobody seems to feel a calling to be a seer.  Nobody wanted to guess the winner of the Superbowl or the presidential election – although Bill predicted that the winner would be somebody I, his wife, did not vote for.  Yes, well, we shall see.

Most of us stuck with likely to happen predictions: that the gingerbread houses would be smashed (we generally do that on January 6th), that we would move to a new home, that we would have to resume schoolwork.

Billy predicted that he would have a new brother or sister this year.  That’s another likely prediction.  I’m due mid-June!

It will be an exciting year, I’m sure.

Recent pictures

Finally downloading pictures from the camera.

Mary wanted to help saute onions and peppers, but they hurt her eyes.  We took care of that.

Mary hamming it up for somebody – not me.

Bill gave me a flash diffuser for Christmas.  Here we experiment with its effects.  The first is with and the second is without the diffuser.

My husband makes scruffy look good.

I am glad he’s back to shaven, though.  Ouch.

Happy Feast of the Holy Family

Bill has been off this week, so we’ve been doing a whole lot of nothing.  It’s been lovely.

We did go to see The Muppets.  We had 8 free tickets, which meant that ordering 4 medium popcorns and 4 medium sodas for nearly $50 didn’t hurt too badly.  Everybody enjoyed the film; it was nice not having to worry that the next joke or scene was going to include something crude or offensive.  There was one scene where the camera panned to the audience watching the muppets perform, and the rows were filled with 40ish people with dopey, happy grins on their faces.  It was like looking in the mirror…(and that only made my own dopey, happy grin larger).

Bill and I watched The King’s Speech.  Wow.  How absolutely wonderful to enjoy a movie made for adults, with adult topics, but absolutely no violence or nudity.

This is in contrast to a few other shows we’ve been trying to watch, but one little night owl has been repeatedly coming downstairs to visit us.  A large number of scenes are completely inappropriate for children, so we can’t watch the shows at all.  Just as well, I suppose.

The other night, I read Bedtime for Frances to Mary, the night owl.  She loved it, as I did when I was a child.  I asked her last night, “What is your job?”

“To go to bed,” she answered.

“And what happens if you don’t go to bed?” I asked her, just as Frances’s father asked her in the book.

“You’re going to spank my bottom!”  She smiled and laughed and scampered off to bed, finally, permanently.  Corporal punishment is such a terrifying threat in our home.

Bill has not shaved since Christmas Eve.  I hope to take a picture of him today, since he has promised to clean himself up.  We’re going to a party this evening, otherwise he’d probably let it go.  He looks kinda cute with a beard, but he sure isn’t getting many kisses.  He’d need a few more weeks before it was long enough to be soft, but he’s back to work on Monday.

I’m scouring the internet for information on housing in Tampa.  If anybody can recommend areas to live, I would be grateful.  I’ll head there in a few weeks to see potential homes in person and hopefully put a deposit down.

Lastly, I enjoyed this article by Marybeth Hicks: Set New Parenting Trends in the New Year.

The North Wind was not blowing yesterday

Yesterday we (meaning “I”) took a break from the cleaning and the baking and the stressing out about the long to-do list, and went to the beach (that’s where the “we” part comes in…”I” clean, “I” bake, “I” stress, but “we” go to the beach).

Don’t let the bathing suits fool you – the water was cold.  And the air was chillier at the beach than at my house.  I was glad to have a sweater, and I was glad when the sun wasn’t hiding behind the clouds.  But, still, December 22nd and the shoreline temps around 70 degrees were nothing to complain about.

And a cold day at the beach is better than a nice day stuck indoors scrubbing baseboards.

I managed to convince two friends to also neglect their pre-Christmas preparations for a few hours to come along.  It took them a long time to make up their minds and decide to go – maybe 20 or 30 seconds.

No matter how long we stay at the beach – 2 hours or 10 – my children are not at all happy when I say it is time to go.  Mary refused to get in this picture because she was so mad.

My kids grumped all the way to the car, and when my girlfriend asked if they had had a good time, they all said various unpleasant things (no, tell me how you really feel…).  But by dinnertime, when asked, unanimously agreed they had thoroughly enjoyed the day.

Fortunately for them, Bill did receive confirmation yesterday that we are “definitely” moving to Tampa in March (as “definitely” as the Army lets you get).  So trips to the beach – the warm, sunny, go-there-in-the-winter beach – will continue to be a regular part of their lives.

{Side note: I did once go to the “beach” in Maine in December.  Very different experience: it was so cold that being outside for more than a half hour was unpleasant.  But the violent sea crashing on the rocks and the wind, “like a whetted knife“, slicing through every layer of clothing was an exhilarating moment.}

Envy and Stealing Joy

Envy is a feeling of sorrow at another’s good fortune and joy at the evil which befalls him; as if we ourselves were injured by the good and benefited by the evil that comes to him.

So, let’s say the rule is that you are supposed to wear a uniform to work, and so are your co-workers.  And let’s say that one of your co-workers has been getting away with not wearing the correct uniform to work.  That’s totally not fair, right?  It’s an injustice that needs to be fixed, and you are just the right person to go whining to the boss to point out that he is failing in his duties as a manager in upholding corporate rules and regulations.  And the boss listens to you and decides that he has no choice but to make your co-worker comply with the dress code.  Congratulations.  You have scored such a high moral victory.  (Yes, that is sarcasm.)

Because, let’s suppose that this coworker has a long white beard and long white hair (not against the rules), and let’s suppose he wears wire-rimmed glasses (also, within regulations), and let’s suppose the alternative outfit he wears is a red, fuzzy suit which makes him look just like Santa Claus.  And let’s suppose the reason he got away with breaking the rules is because everybody, from all your co-workers and the bosses to people who live on his route, especially little children, thinks he is the most wonderful man on the planet and feel happier for a few minutes whenever they see him.

And whenever people see you, they walk away with a sour taste in their mouth, because you don’t know how to create joy, so you steal it.

I hope you are happy.  But thousands of people are sad, including people like me who read this article and now have a sour taste in their mouth.

US Postal Service Tells Carrier to Stop Dressing Like Santa

Soldiers and Christmas Stories

Last week, Bill was making the rounds at work, wishing people a Merry Christmas, asking about their plans for the holidays.  He talked to a woman about family traditions.  I guess she was a single mom, raising three kids on her own.  She had a rule that the kids couldn’t wake her up until 7 am.  Her kids are older now, but they still hold fast to this tradition, even calling her on Christmas morning at 7 am if they aren’t at home.

She said that the time her son was deployed to Afghanistan, her phone rang right on time.  She heard her son’s voice from halfway around the world asking, “Can I get up now, Mommy?”

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OK, if that didn’t bring a tear to your eye, you are a cold-hearted Grinch (perhaps even a communist).  This story about one of Bill’s soldiers down in Tampa should get you.

Coming Home for the Holidays

I hope the Allen family has the most wonderful Christmas this year.

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Lastly, my sister picked her husband up from the airport today!  They only have a few weeks, and then he has to go back to Alaska to out-process.  She actually called me from the airport.  I was astounded, but then she explained that she was waiting waiting waiting for the plane to land, so I was happy to pass a few minutes with her to distract her from her impatience.

She confessed to thinking up all sorts of tragedies that might befall her on the way to the airport.  If you have ever been away from your loved one for 6 months to a year, you know what I mean.  It seems so silly, when you’re not the one nervous as all get about about a reunion.

We hung up before the plane landed and I haven’t heard from her since.  Sheesh.  I think I’ll wait until late tonight, and then I’ll start sending her text messages, one right after the other…