Dear Martin,

Dear Martin,

I hope you're having a good time on your mountain biking holiday in Turkey. I just thought I'd write you this letter to let you know how things are going at home.

The kids and I are basically just sticking to our normal routine. We are doing school runs, swimming lessons, baths, shopping, housework, etc. In addition to that, I have been doing a little bit of DIY, going to book club, and squeezing in some work during school times (my boss, Elaine, has been so wonderfully accommodating).

The bed that you made is fully finished now. I stained it, then waxed the wood. It's a beautiful oak colour. I also managed to finally hang the bed curtains properly. I think you'll be pleased with the effect.

Dylan and Edith have started a new reading competition with school, this one lasting until the half term break. It's only 4 weeks away now. They have both read every single night, as they want the reward. This time, it will be a trip to the "ice-cream parlour" that the school will be setting up. Last night, Edith even read her scripture in the Book of Mormon with no help from me whatsoever. We are really very lucky that they both love to read!

Things have been quiet around the house. I've been very organized in the mornings and we have actually been ready to walk out the door BEFORE the alarm's gone on my phone every day this week. Dylan was a little bit concerned at first that I wouldn't remember to do their pack-ups, but he's confident now that I will make his lunch!

I've been going to bed early--never later than 10:30 all week long--and getting up earlier, too. The house is staying cleaner than it normally does. Things are running more smoothly since you left for Manchester airport on Tuesday morning. No shoes left lying all over the house, no dirty dishes in the sink every morning. No bread crumbs left on the counter, or cupboards being left open. No giant piles of laundry on top of the laundry hamper rather than in it.

I hate it!

I miss having you home to make packed lunches. I miss your noise and your mess and your serious lack of punctuality. I miss you waking me up when you get home from work. I even miss leaving that plate of dinner on the side for you. Every single meal I've cooked this week has had an extra portion left over!

I really missed you on Wednesday, when we would have normally had the day off together. I've come to count on those days with you, when it can just be the two of us, no kids, for a few hours. You help keep me sane and happy and healthy.

So yes, I hope you are having a great time with the lads. But I hope the next four days pass quickly. Because even after all these years, you are still the person I most want to see every day. Going a full week without seeing your best friend is tough!

All my love,

Jamie

Daddy Doug's visit...

My relationship with my biological father has always been a strange one.

He and mom divorced before I was even a year old, and she was remarried by the time I was two (and a half!) to a wonderful man who I grew up calling "dad." Mostly because he IS my dad. He has never treated me any differently than his own flesh and blood, and did an excellent job of raising me. Well, I think so anyway.

My relationship with "Daddy Doug" didn't develop until I was 17, for reasons that I completely understand now that I know him well. We met, it was awkward, we developed a relationship that was completely on my terms, and we had contact as often as I initiated it. Slightly dysfunctional, but still nice.

Then, his wife got sick. Rae Dawn developed Alzheimer's disease about the same time I had two children just 19 months apart. All of a sudden, we had a whole lot in common. His lovely wife and my beautiful children became the sole focus of our worlds, and we talked, laughed, and cried together about the way our lives were going. In short, I guess we bonded.

Then, just last year, a miracle occurred. He called me. For the first time ever, he picked up the phone and initiated contact with ME! It only took 17 years!

He's just spent the last two weeks with us here in Barton. I drove him to Manchester airport on Tuesday to fly home. We had lots of fun, going out to eat, visiting some favorite places, and just hanging out. The kids miss him already. I miss him, too. Because even though our relationship is strange, I really do love him.

It's nice to have the house to myself again though. Because one of the things this visit taught me is that I am becoming a bit of a hermit. When Martin first started working at Stables, I nearly went mad. I was stuck inside every single night, with nobody to talk to and no chance of leaving. Now, though I am still stuck in the house every night with nobody to talk to, I really enjoy that. My evenings are my own. Once the kids are in bed, I can literally do whatever I want (as long as I don't leave the property). Four years on, and I am finally used to Martin's working hours.

Daddy Doug is already talking about coming back. I am already looking forward to that. And not JUST because he brought me a whole bunch of Macaroni and Cheese :)

Always a bridesmaid...

My lovely sister-in-law Cathy is getting married on Saturday. She and John have been together nearly seven years. They are so in love and make such a great couple. I'm so pleased for them!

I went to Cathy's "home hen do" on Saturday. She had another one, a boozy trip to Benidorm, that I was going to attend until it conflicted with Edith's birthday. Bit sad about that one, but Martin has promised me a later holiday as he is off to Turkey next week. Ooh, check out our jet-setting lifestyle!

But I digress. Back to the hen do!

It was in a little tapas restaurant in Cleethorpes. I picked up my saintly mother-in-law and drove us both in. There were 22 of Cathy's female friends there, including her future sisters-in-law, and we spent a delightful evening together, just talking and laughing and (most of them) drinking. Then Martin's mum made a little speech, and there was a Mr. and Mrs. game.

The support for Cathy in her marriage to John was almost overwhelming. Everyone there was so pleased for her, and they all know that Cathy and John will be so good for each other. It made me think back to my own wedding and bridal shower.

When I married Martin, pretty much nobody thought it was a good idea. My dad insisted he was only after a green card, and everybody else was just disappointed that I was marrying outside the church. None of them really knew Martin very well, and they hadn't been around me for years so they couldn't see all the ways that he had influenced me for the better. They only knew that I was marrying a non-member foreigner. How could they have supported me in good conscience? They were there, and they were happy for me, but the overwhelming feeling was that none of them were truly glad I was marrying Martin.

Several years down the line, when we were sealed in the temple, it was different. Most of those same people--aunts, cousins, and sisters--came to our sealing and went to the park afterwards for a picnic. They were happy for me then. I was happy for me then. But that initial support would have been lovely.

As I watched Cathy, in that little room completely surrounded by a loving and supportive network of women, I was more than a little bit jealous. It was like she was being cocooned in their approval and respect. It shouldn't have made me sad, but it did.

I have never before regretted anything about my marriage. Now I regret this. That I flew in the face of all of my family members. That I didn't work harder to seek their acceptance for my choice. That I didn't make sure they all knew Martin for how wonderful he truly is. Because it made our wedding seem all about defiance instead of all about love. And marrying Martin really was all about loving him and wanting to spend the rest of my life with him. If only it had felt that way at the time. Then our wedding would have been a joyous celebration, as Cathy's is likely to be, instead of a sad day for most of my family.

Mothering Sunday...

It was British Mothers' Day on Sunday. Historically, this is a very bad day for me. It involves Martin working all day long, me taking the children to church by myself, and making sure my mother-in-law has a good mothers day since her son isn't available.

This year, we bucked the trend!

The kids each brought me a gift and a card first thing in the morning. We had a great time at church. I took us all out for lunch, and they were well behaved throughout. Then they let me take a quick nap when we got home. We headed over to the in-laws' house in the late afternoon and had a wonderful visit and a light meal. Then it was home and into bed for the kids, and I curled up with a good book for the rest of the evening.

As Dylan and Edith grow up a little bit, having children becomes more and more what I expected from motherhood. And I love it. Weirdly, I am especially looking forward to having teenagers. What fun...

Edith's birthday was also good. She was at school all day, but she opened a few gifts before she went. Then we had a family dinner when she got home. She requested paella (her favourite, apparently) and a strawberry cake. I obliged on the paella, and compromised on the cake with a warm vanilla flavoured butterfly cake, decorated with buttercream frosting, fresh strawberries, and fresh blueberries.

As per usual, Edith was very spoilt by all of her aunties, uncles, and grandparents. She got some lovely clothes, which she loves. She got some fun toys, which she is already playing with. And we got her a new bike, which she is learning to ride with confidence.

My Edith is such a joy to me. I love her to absolute pieces. She is a little ray of sunshine to me. Celebrating her birthday is a real privilege, just as having her for a daughter is.

I'm all aglow with the joy and happiness of motherhood. Kind of sickening, really. And just because I wrote it, tonight is probably going to be a crappy night with the kids. But I do love them both, more than I could ever express. They are a blessing to me, and they were well worth the wait!

Proud mama bear...

For those of you who HAVEN'T seen the video on Facebook, Edith learned to ride her bike with no training wheels last weekend.

That girl is so fearless! I told her she might not get it on her first try, and that was just fine. Then we took her out, she got on her bike, Martin supported her just a little bit, and away she went. First time out of the gate.

She'll be turning five on Tuesday, and she's getting a new bike for her birthday. She is so very grown up. Where have the past five years gone?

Dylan's teachers were on strike yesterday, so he and Martin had a little father/son bonding day. They bought Edith's birthday present, had lunch together, and went to the cinema. I had a PB&J sandwich, watched The Goodwife on Netflix, and had my "ladies' cancer screening" at the doctor's office. Who do you reckon had the better day? You're right. It was me!

Dylan loves his dad so much. They both do, really, but Dylan idolizes Martin. He was so content with all the attention that he'd received all day long that he was as good as gold when it came time for bed. I love that!

Oh, and I got Edith those new school shoes. She loves them.

Getting into the groove...

I'm in my second week of work now, and I'm starting to enjoy it. I got paid today, so that kind of helps. But more than that, it's kind of nice to have a bit more structure to my days. It forces me to plan my week out and keeps me on task, knowing that I won't have those two days at the end of the week to get things done. And I like being able to contribute to the funds, if only a little bit!

Of course, there are down sides, too. Like last night, when Dylan told me that the parents were invited to a Sports Relief fundraiser at the school the next day. He got a little teary when I told him I couldn't go because of work. And Edith needing some sports kit, which I could have gone out and bought then delivered to the school for her if I hadn't been at work. I'd imagine there will be more of those moments, but I can live with them.

So yeah, everything is fine over here. No more crying myself to sleep at night over my job. Just slight annoyance about having to get out of bed and go to work!

Tomorrow is the Stake Relief Society activity day over in Hull. I'm teaching a choir workshop, which could either be really fun or a total nightmare. I'll be teaching "God Is Love" from the hymn book. The kids will be hanging out with their Nanna. Slightly put out that I'm missing my life drawing class for it, but hopefully I will get blessings for my efforts.

In other exciting weekend news, I shall be buying Edith some new school shoes as she has grown out of hers.

Oh yeah, that's the way I roll!

Working nine to five...

I'm at work right now.

How weird to be saying that, after nearly 7 years of no job outside the home!

I got a job at a local garage, Beck Hill Motors. It's just part time, working from 9am to 4:30pm every Thursday and Friday. Today is my second day.

The people are all very nice. I've not had any irate customers to deal with yet. The work is not hard, though there is obviously a learning curve and I'm a bit nervous about screwing something up. But yeah, it's pretty ok.

Martin is so thrilled that I have a job now, and I'm happy about that. But it changes everything about the way my life has been for the past 6+ years. Something about going to work outside of my home feels like a betrayal to my children and my ideals. I am a little bit emotional about the situation. In fact, I totally cried about it last night. I'm almost crying about it right now.

But it's extra money in the bank and two days a week out of the house and talking to grown ups, whether I want to or not. And, most importantly, it's a happy husband. If Martin is better for it, I'm willing to do it. Whether I like it or not. Because, to be fair, he's done it for me since Dylan was born. It feels like the least I can do.

In other news, watch this space for a photo project I am currently working on. It's going to be titled "30 days of bed-head." Yes, I AM taking a selfie every morning when I get out of bed to document the awesomeness that is my hair first thing in the morning :)

The value of a girl...

I am a podcast addict. Seriously, there is hardly any music on my iTunes profile. It's all about the spoken word. Talk radio, too. I just love listening to people talk. Maybe it's because I spend so much time alone? But that's another blog post.

I was listening to a podcast about gender selection during pregnancy, and the podcasters were talking about the fact that female children are undervalued. I remember listening to one 'cast about all the "missing" women in China, mostly due to their one child policy and the fact that nobody wanted to have a girl, and all the problems that caused. And I thought about how much I wanted another boy when I was pregnant with Edith.

Here's the thing though--it wasn't that I didn't want to have a daughter. Had Dylan been female, I would have been thrilled to have a girl. But I grew up with all sisters (love you, Jace, but you didn't come along until I was 17) and I loved the dynamic there. It was us girls, all together. If I'd had a girl first, I would have wanted another girl. But since I had a boy first, I really wanted another son. I wanted to be the only girl in the house. I wanted my kids to bond strongly with each other. I wanted it to be me and my boys. Then Edith came along!

From the moment she was born, I started changing my mind about wanting another boy. This gentle pink haze descended on the house. The ironing bag filled up with ruffles and flounces. And all of a sudden, I had Barbie dolls on my horizon. BONUS!

Edith has been my little sunshine ever since then. She is my living doll, to dress up and fix her hair. She is also my hairdresser and makeup artist. We are shopping buddies and we love to be "ladies who lunch" together. I was actually a little bit sad when she started full days at school. I absolutely LOVE having a daughter, and I don't understand why anybody would choose to abort a foetus simply because it didn't have a penis. Daughters are the BEST!

Connections...

I had an awkward conversation with Dylan the other day. He had been outside on the "ramp" (his name for the drive leading from the main road to Eagle House) riding his bike. He came in really upset, so we had a chat.

Apparently, our neighbour and his teenaged daughter were having a fight out by their car, and she was screaming and kicking the car, punching the roof, etc. Dylan, my sensitive soul, was really upset by this. So we talked about puberty and irrational teenagers, about how our neighbours are a bit shouty anyway and the fighting is normal behaviour for a girl her age. He understood, and calmed down right away.

Fast forward a few days, and he asked if he could go out and ride his bike on the ramp again. I said yes, and warned him to watch out for cars. Not eve missing a beat, he quipped, "and teenagers!"

Man, that kid has a keen sense of humour. His mind is just so quick!

We got school reports on the kids last week, and they are doing every bit as well as we expected them to do. Dylan especially is excelling academically. Edith's mainly ahead of the game socially, and also in her reading. She's going to be a popular little lady!

Martin has been working on the last little bit of tiling downstairs. I'm hoping the project will be finished tomorrow. Pretty exciting stuff. And they are doing a refit at Stables in a few weeks. It'll be exciting to see what it looks like when it's finished. Fingers crossed for a few leftovers.

And me? Nothing new to report. I did yoga today and managed a rock solid tree pose. That's about as exciting as it gets. Oh, and I'm considering reupholstering the sofa in a dark grey chenille fabric. Ordered a sample online this evening. Total rock star!

My favourite part of winter...

It's no secret that I hate winter in England. Autumn is lovely, summer is nice, and spring in this country is the most glorious thing I have ever seen. But winter is cold, grey, and dark. I have two things that I look forward to during this long, horrible season. The first thing is the Winter Solstice, which marks the start of slightly longer days. It's such a relief when the shortest day of the year has passed.

The second thing I look forward to happened just this week. I saw my first snowdrop! Soon it will be daffodils and tulips, then the hedgerows will begin to bloom. That creeping mist of green will descend, the rhododendrons will explode with almost tropical colour, and I will be happy. It happens every year, without fail.

England is amazing--the history, the scenery, and the green. Oh, the green! But I'm just not cut out for winter here. Utah is so much colder, but the sun still shines. I miss that so much. Especially the way fresh powder on the mountains looks--like diamonds with the sun glinting off the ice crystals.

I'm melancholy tonight. I think I'd sell my soul right now to move back home. It might be easier than trying to sell my house.

It must be time to go somewhere or do something to remind myself how much I love England. Maybe a little trip to York next Saturday? Maybe Lincoln? How about it family? If you were in England, what would you do next weekend?

Running for my life...

I have been doing the "Couch to 5K" program. Not religiously, but I downloaded the app for my phone and have been running, on average, twice a week. Three times would be better, but my health hasn't really allowed for that. So here's the progress report:

When I started, I could not even run for a full minute. I was running about 45 seconds and panting/jogging until that stupid computer voice told me to walk. As of last week, I can now run for five minutes straight. Don't get me wrong, I am panting and gasping after that five minutes. But the point is, I can do it. I can now run a mile faster than I could when I was 16. It feels great!

Runner's high has yet to happen. I never get this massive endorphin rush while sweating my guts out and panting like a dog. But I do get restless some days, and genuinely want to go for a run. My legs start to tingle, and nothing else will do. And I could totally get addicted to the feeling of finishing a run. It is the only time I really push myself, and that sense of accomplishment is incredible!

I'm not really losing weight with it--probably have to be more consistent for that to happen. But my overall fitness has definitely improved. I'm glad I decided to take it up.

Church was good today. I taught Relief Society and youth Sunday School, and played the piano for R.S. and Sacrament meeting. The closing hymn was a bit dodgy, since I'd never heard it before (though I did practice it) and spent the first eight measures trying with all my might to play it faster than the chorister wanted everyone to sing it. But I've been playing in church for so long that it isn't even embarrassing any more when I mess up. Not worth blushing about--just an eye rolling moment.

Today is Martin's last day off work. He's been off all week, and goes back in tomorrow. It's been so lovely to have him home with me. I adore spending time with my husband! Yesterday, we went out and had a "normal" family Saturday--the kind we never have because he is always at work. We went to Ikea, had lunch, did a bit of shopping, then drove down to Penistone, just north of Sheffield, to see my friend Noelle and her brand new baby. He's gorgeous, and she's doing well. I got to cuddle five day old Stevie for nearly an hour. But guess what? I still don't want another baby. And now that I'm 35, it's official. We are DONE having children. Sorry to my parents if they wanted more grandchildren from me. It's not going to happen.

Anyway, I should probably go and help my husband with dinner prep. Bless him, he's cooked a few meals this week and I'm feeling like a bit of a slacker. Plus, I get to check him out and slap his bum when I need him to move if we cook together. Sometimes having a tiny kitchen is great!

Happy birthday to me...

Turning 35 ended up being pretty painless. I woke up to breakfast in bed courtesy of the kids. Dylan was incredibly proud of the fact that he made my toast himself. Then I played badminton with my husband, did the grocery shopping, had my hair cut, went for sauna with my friend Ali, had dinner with the Gilbert family, and spent a quiet evening with my hubby. Barely even time to lament the passing of my youth.

Thirty five years old. Ouch! Half way to seventy. Round up to forty. Edith told me that I am really getting "quite old." Special.

When we moved to England, I was only 26. Just a spring chicken, really. Now I'm ancient, like the crypt keeper. But I have a wonderful husband, two beautiful children, and a great life. So I'm getting old? So what? Being 35 hasn't changed anything. Well, except for the fact that I have now decided to ditch the grey hair. I am going to dye it tomorrow.

In other news, we have had to cut Dylan off the junk food. We went to Nottingham to visit some friends, and they had nibbles out on the table. Dylan ate so much food that he made himself sick. And in typical Dylan fashion, he did it in his bed. The kid is incapable of getting up and being sick in the toilet. Which of course means a midnight shower and bedding change. It was the second time in less than six weeks. So now he is only allowed to eat the food which we give him, until he can learn to stop eating when he is full. I feel like such a mean parent, but it seems necessary. I seem to recall that Velecia's boys used to do the same?

Thoughtless...

That's me. Literally without thought. I've had this browser window open for a good five minutes, just waiting for inspiration to hit. It didn't, so instead, I will waffle on for a bit and pretend to be really deep.

Martin has encouraged me to do this new diet. Not in a horrible, sexist pig sort of way. He just read about it, and thought it sounded perfect for me. It's a variation of the 5-2 diet. This is the every other day diet, where you eat as you like one day and then fast (500 calories fast) the next. So I decided I'd get on board, and had my first fasting day yesterday. So today I ate as I pleased, and my body was not happy about it at all! I think I'll have to be more careful about my non-fasting days from here on out. But it certainly DOES seem like the perfect diet for me. It's not hard to say no to foods that are bad for you if you know you can have them the next day. It's not too hard to count up to 500 calories. It's easy to remember which day you're on. All in all, I like it. Except for that whole hunger thing. We'll see how it goes.

The running is certainly going well. Had a few weeks off over Christmas, but I'm back in the game now and pleased with my progress. When I started, I could barely manage to run for a single minute. But on Tuesday, I ran two seperate five minute stretches. Properly running, too. Not just jogging to keep up appearances. What a difference!

The kids are doing great. Excelling at school, as I have come to expect. Dylan is starting to have loads of friends now, which is brilliant. He's having a friend over tomorrow night to watch a movie with us. He is trading Match Attax cards with his friends at school. He is always talking about the games he plays with his friends during play time. Who would have thought at the beginning of his school career that he would get to this point?

Edith is really coming into herself. She is horribly bossy and demanding, but she is so charming about it that everyone still loves her. She's cheeky and giggly, and her hair is finally long enough to pull up in proper pigtails. She is my comedian, and my little angel.

As for Martin, well...the other morning, we went to the gym together. He did kettlebells, and I went into the health suite. I was doing leg press, and looked over to see a cute guy bent over getting a drink. Had a little ooh la la moment, then realized that I was perving over my own husband. Awkward. But pretty awesome, too. I sure do love that man!

Turning 35 next week, and I'm sure I'll have a few choice words to say about that when the time comes. Watch this space.

Merry Christmas

And my apologies to my family, who had to sit there opening gifts with my face in high definition on the big screen, quietly crying like a baby.

Sometimes, it just hits me how much I am missing by living in England. I love it here, but my gigantic and loving family are all over in Utah. And I sat by my computer, watching the clan exchanging gifts, and realized how much I wanted to be in the middle of all of that madness. Skype is brilliant, but it's not as good as being in the room.

It was still a great family Christmas, of course. I was with my wonderful husband and beautiful children, and we spent the day with my English family. They are great--the best in-laws a girl could ever ask for. The gifts were a success, the company was affable, and the food was amazing. if only...

Winter blues...

Last year, I was all medicated up on Prozac and I breezed effortlessly through the grim English winter. Now I am drug free, and I am feeling every sun-less, bone chilling moment. If I was a drinker, I would be annihilating a bottle of wine a night just to get through.

Thank goodness for the Word of Wisdom, right?

Anyway, things are going well. I am enjoying the run up to Christmas. I have made my Christmas puddings and mincemeat, and I am keeping the kitchen stocked up with home baked goodies for company. The house isn't as clean now that the weather has turned horrible, but it is ok. Basically, I hate doing housework in the dark. And it is dark by 3:45pm. If I could, I would totally hibernate for all of November and December. And probably part of January, as well.

Dylan and Edith have both done their Christmas plays for school. They were cute. It's just a shame that there were loads of other kids there and the plays were held in a room full of people (please see above comment about hibernating). Dylan's play was called "Manger Mouse," and Edith's was "Cheese, Please." Both cheeky little takes on the traditional nativity.

Today is a special day, anyway. It is my baby sister's birthday. Happy birthday, ShaNeil! I remember the day she was born. It was a Thursday. I know, because it was early day. We got taken up to see her after school. She is eight years younger than me, so we were never super close. But I've always been impressed by her quick wit and her incredibly beauty. Oh, and she has the cutest baby EVER! I am looking forward to moving back to Utah and getting to know her better as an adult and a friend instead of just a sister.

JUST a sister? How crazy was that statement? My sisters are the only people from my childhood that I am still friends with. Sisters are way better than plain old friends, and I miss all of mine like crazy.

I've been given a speaking assignment for church this week, about "Christmas Past," and it has me getting all nostalgic about the Christmases of my childhood. Holidays always make me long for home. And even though this is my 9th Christmas in England (wow, it seems even longer, seeing it in black and white like that) and I have a husband and children of my own now, home is still sort of where my parents and siblings are.

Such a Debbie downer today. I'm kicking myself off the computer so I don't spread my bad mood like a disease!

Happy kisses!

Au Naturale...

Top ten reasons letting my hair revert to its natural colour was a good idea:

10. Not putting chemicals in my hair makes it healthier and shinier

9. Natural highlights--got to love those

8. Gray is very in this season

7. I'm setting an example for my daughter that she can grow old gracefully and not buy into the notion that while it is perfectly acceptable for a man to show his age, a woman must look perpetually seventeen in order to be desirable.

6. Because screw the patriarchy, that's why (got on a little streak there. Stepping off my soap box now)

5. I now have so much more time to devote to worthy causes, like promoting world peace and supporting my local library

4. My house never smells like ammonia any more.

3. My lack of facial lines and wrinkles is highlighted even more by the fact that I have granny hair

2. It draws attention away from my dark, luxurious moustache should I not have time to bleach or depillate

1. There's not nearly as much gray as I thought there'd be!

So yeah, here's to letting my natural colour shine through for the first time since I was fourteen. I feel like such a dirty tree hugger. Next up, growing out my arm pit hair (don't laugh, I've done it before) and getting some birkenstocks.

I'm humming a Janice Joplin song even as I type...

Drama...

So the most exciting event of this week was supposed to be tiling our dining room:



Instead, the house next door caught fire early on Wednesday morning:



So Wednesday morning was pretty exciting. Our neighbor, Mickey B., pounded on the door at 4am and told us that the roof next door was seriously on fire. We got the kids out of bed, grabbed our passports and document file, got our coats and shoes on, and got out of the house.

The kids spent the next three hours watching the Disney Channel at Mickey's house while Martin and I watched the fire getting closer and closer to our house until the fire brigade got it out. It was pretty terrifying. But our house suffered pretty minimal damage, and our home owners insurance is covering all of it.

It's kind of nice to know that I'm not very materialistic. Too bad it took a major fire to gain that knowledge.

So yeah, loads of drama. But, all things considered, getting the tiling done IS more exciting!

Running...

Me, dying after my run this afternoon

I started doing a couch to 5K workout program on Monday. This may not seem like a big deal to some, but there's something you need to know about me in order to be properly impressed:

I HATE RUNNING!

If I were being chased by zombies, I would rather let them pull my brains out and eat them whilst I was still alive than have to run away from them.

This is not hyperbole.

Running is not the only exercise I hate doing. I also detest biking (that seat is just NOT comfortable, and you'd have to be a masochist to enjoy sitting on it for extended periods of time, IMHO) and group sports of any kind.

Basically, I hate cardio. It's not that I dislike getting my heart rate up. Just that I hate being sweaty, uncomfortable, short of breath and dealing with the rather unfortunate effects of gravity on an empty baby bag.

Really intense flows in yoga and aquafit do NOT count as cardio, by the way :)

Martin asked me why I decided to start running if I hate it so much. I told him that people who run tend to look good, and though I don't like running, I DO like looking good.

I remember being younger and totally happy in my body. I've never been thin, but my body used to be able to handle whatever stresses I put it under. That's just not the case any more. And I'd like to change that while I'm still young enough to do it. And if that means taking up running, well, I'll do it.

But I'll complain about it all the way, because I STILL HATE RUNNING.

(Although I did experience runner's high for the first time ever--I think. That was weird.)

So what's next for me? Ladies' basketball, perhaps?

Not likely. I still have standards, after all!

An Achievement...

Not mine, but Dylan's. He is now riding his bike with no training wheels. Pretty amazing, considering he only got that bike a few months ago. We didn't really encourage bike riding for him when he was younger because he wasn't very coordinated. Couple that with his bleeding disorder, and it was just a recipe for disaster. But he was finally ready this summer.

Dylan gets really down on himself when he can't do things straight away. He is very smart, and expects to do new things with ease. And he's so sensitive that he cries when he's disappointed. So teaching him to ride a bike was frustrating for me and Martin. It took so much patience and loving encouragement, which is really hard to give when your six year old is crying like a baby over NOTHING!

I wasn't there the first time he rode on his own. I was at my yoga class. But I saw the video, which was brilliant. And he is so proud of himself.

Seeing my children grow and develop is everything I dreamed it would be. So many aspects of motherhood are not, but this one meets all of my expectations! To catch a brief glimpse of their full potential, well, there are no words to describe the absolute wonder of it...

Life...

It's changed a lot since my last post. And I do mean a LOT!

First and foremost, both kids are now back in school. And Edith is going for full days instead of half days. So this means that I am now a full time home-maker with free time during the day. And let me just say, it is every bit as good as I thought it would be. My days are spent cleaning the house, doing the shopping, baking bread, preparing meals, visiting with friends, and going to the gym. Not to mention that I get nearly two hours of time alone with my husband EVERY SINGLE DAY! It's like heaven in 6 1/2 hours.

Once we got the kids safely back to school, Martin and I buckled down and got the house ready to re-list with our real estate agency. They came and photographed the house two weeks ago, and the "for sale" sign went back up last week. We are going to be tiling the dining room next week, but then all the big projects are finished and it's just a case of keeping the place clean and getting the right people in for viewings so they can fall in love with our house and buy it from us. Fingers crossed.

In other news, I have started weaning myself off the Prozac. I have been on half a dose for over a month now, and will be reducing again next week. The meds helped me out of a bad place, and I have no regrets about taking them. But coming off them makes me realize just how medicated I was. I feel as though I am getting my personality back. I am having to work harder to control my temper, but I am enjoying life so much more. If I have to go back on them, I will. I never want to be in that dark, dark place again. But I'd rather try to do without.

Going drug free coincided with my other big change. I am no longer seeing a therapist. I have officially been declared sane :) I feel like everything has just come together in the past six weeks. Life is still hard, but also good. You know, like it's supposed to be.

Anyway, the kids are thriving in school. Martin is staying busy at work. The house is clean.

I just wish we were doing all these things back in Utah.