Happy Thanksgiving!

Being a Certified Diabetes Educator, I often argue that I, along with all of my diabetes colleagues, should be granted an annual paid absence between Thanksgiving and New Year's Day.  I think our patients would agree.  No diabetic wants to hear anyone blabbing about portion control and carb counting during the best food days of the year, and no diabetic educator wants to hear the details (and some conversations get very detailed) of purposeful glycemic excursions.

However, it's unlikely that the proper legislation would every be approved to allow this, so I'll continue to do the best I can considering the holiday circumstances.  Learning through experience that patients need to have lives too, I've really backed off on lecturing and one-sided (my-sided) goal setting. But for old time's sake, sometimes I can't help but pull out a few scare tactics. 

A Thanksgiving message from a Certified Diabetes Educator...

Remember this when you are going for dessert on Thanksgiving Day...

How Pumpkin Pie is Made

Happy Thanksgiving to all! 

I have SO, SO much to be thankful for, and I hope you do too.

Good Thing

J:  Why do you always tell people what I say?

Me:  Because I think you say some funny things.

J:  That embarrasses me.

It's a good thing he doesn't read this blog.

Fall Photos

Recently, I've been blessed with several opportunities to snap some photos of people who I did not give birth to.  This has revealed to me that I am a total and complete monster of a mom when I have my own babies in front of the lens.  Not just a questionably scary monster, but an unrecognizable, horrific beast (think Bo Pelini during the Texas A&M game) who has to go begging for forgiveness and grace when the camera is tucked back into its carrying case.  

Rectifying this situation is a priority for me as I don't want to cause any more emotional damage to my children. I've already given them plenty of material to discuss with a therapist someday, plus I have a strong desire to positively share my rapidly expanding passion for photography with them...and all the things that make photos so fun...

                         ...like freckles   

   

 ...and almost two-year-olds

...and smiling mommies and daddies



...and baby sideburns

...and adorable ballet legs

 ...and love between siblings

...and hand holding

...and rest breaks



...and playful pets

...and puppy love

...and sparkling eyes.



Oh, so much fun!

My Very First Giveaway

Through my blog stalking adventures, I’ve learned that giveaways are a pretty common thing to do in the blogging world. I’m no advertising genius, but I guess it’s a way to keep readers interested and coming back for more. I thought my wit would be enough, but I’m thinking it’s time to spice up this blog with my very first giveaway.

FREE…FREE…FREE…FREE…FREE…FREE…FREE…FREE…FREE…

A commenter selected at random will receive a half-full box of Pinkies. Keep ‘em for yourself or share with a friend. What a lovely and unique stocking stuffer this would make!

Oh, For Learning's Sake!

J has always had an impressive thirst for knowledge, so we try our best to foster a fun learning atmosphere in our home to keep his desire for facts burning.

Despite this, every mom has her limits and being welcomed home by this reptile on our kitchen counter was certainly pushing it.

Although harmless, Outer Space gave me the heebie-jeebies at first. It really wasn’t the reptile itself that sent me into a hypertensive state but rather the thought of it escaping and roaming freely in our home. Remember the slug?

I put my own anxiety aside all for the sake of learning. After all, J wants to be a herpetologist when he grows up, so Outer Space was right up his alley. The agreement was that we would feed it once and then release it to go find a snuggly home before the winter weather arrived. So a few days after we met this slithery guy, Steve and the kids went to the pet store to buy an appropriate reptile meal while I went for a run.

I arrived home to a dead infant mouse unthawing in a glass of water…not exactly what I had expected. This was the entrée recommended by the pet store associate, but because I know everything there is to know about having a pet snake, I really didn’t believe that a living snake would go for a dead mouse. A mouse…yes. A dead one…no.

We gathered around and waited as Daddy bravely tossed the carcass in the cage and wiggled it around with a straw.

Sure enough, Outer Space attacked it like a natural born killer, and we were left impressed and wanting more action. Three feedings in all, our catch-and-release idea turned into a two week long adventure.

We all grew quite fond of our lovely serpent, even me. However, with the beautiful autumn weather soon ending and a small counter top habitat in need of a cleaning, it was time for Outer Space to be reunited with a more natural snake-friendly environment. If we delayed his release any longer, we would be forced to keep him for the winter… an option that wasn’t really an option in my mind.

One happy, free, long (almost a two footer!!) snake…

One very sad, heartbroken boy…

…all for the sake of learning.



Insomniac

Earlier this week, E had a terrible night.  It took at least ninety minutes and a thousand tuck-ins before she finally fell asleep.  But the trouble didn't stop there.  She decided to start her day at 2:30 AM for no apparent reason except to frustrate me.  We tried everything (except Benadryl -- next time she's getting Benadryl, even if it is 4:00 AM) to ensure our little lady got her beauty rest, but nothing worked.  Finally, Steve gave up on our insomniac and just went to work at 5:00, so I tried her in our bed again.  An hour later my alarm blared, signaling that it was time to rise and shine.

E sat straight up in bed and with a smile on her face and said, "I'm awake!"

I replied with an uncheerful, "Ya, I know."

She responded in a matter-of-fact tone, "It's gonna be a long day."

Problem Solving

Although I was not witnessing it with my own eyes, my ears were all I needed to figure out that a scuffle amongst siblings was well underway in our basement.  The ear-piercing scream that only a little girl could make confirmed my suspicion. 

Me:  J?………………..E?

J:  We’re problem solving.  Don’t worry.

Balance

Clean, tidy, organized, orderly, company-ready…all words that don’t describe the usual state of our household. These are all characteristics that I desire of our home, but I certainly don’t obsess over this unrealistic notion of having a perpetually presentable home. I let that pipe dream completely drift away soon after becoming a mother.

Balancing all of my roles and duties is a continual struggle for me. It seems that if my house is clean, my children are neglected, unhappy, overloaded with television time, tired of hearing “not now” or “pick that up” or “put that where it belongs” and starving for attention which leaves me feeling like an exhausted, guilty failure. But if I’m completely engaged with my babies and allowing them to play as children should (creatively messy), our home quickly transforms into a danger zone on the brink of being declared uninhabitable which leaves me feeling like an exhausted, guilty failure. This balance thing that I just can’t seem to locate weighs heavily on my mind and heart…day… after day… after day.

After much thought and great failure, I’ve given up on achieving the highly sought after “Super Mom” status. In fact, I’m going to defy popular belief and publically declare that I don’t think that a completely independent (meaning free of outside help) “Super Mom” truly exists. GASP!! Yep, that’s right, Martha Stewart and Betty Crocker. You heard me. The perfect mom, homemaker, and wife combo is a myth in my mind. I just don’t think it’s possible to have fully perfected one aspect of “Super Mom-dom” without all of the other aspects going to hell in a hand basket…whatever that means.

Having realized that I just can’t have it all and never will, I’ve made some big attempts at putting my efforts into what ranks the highest on my list of values. This means that my floor is not always swept, the mirrors are dirty, toys are everywhere, and convenience foods have a strong presence on our table. However, there are times when my children just have to be put on the back burner briefly so I won’t be ticketed for maintaining a disorderly household, but at least I try, unsuccessfully at times, to not allow chores to be a huge source of stress for me.

But laundry duties have a grip on me that I just can’t escape some days. I’m not sure if it’s because I can never truly feel accomplished because an empty hamper is unachievable with two young children or because it’s such a drawn out process.

Regardless, on many occasions laundry RUINS me!

Laundry is to Katie as . . .

…rain is to a parade.

…ants are to a picnic.

…evil is to good.

…war is to peace.

…vomit is to mealtime.

…Palin is to politics.

…snow is to any day.

…disease is to health.

…picture taking is to J’s day.

…pain is to pleasure.

…Spongebob is to cartoons.

…zits are to a complexion.

…silly bands are to fashion.

…anything fried is to a diet.

…bedbugs are to vacations.

…debt is to financial peace.

…humidity is to a good hair day.

…cellulite is to thighs.

…sleep deprivation is to sanity.

...camping is to fun.

…colic is to life.

…active bowels are to a run.

…a flat tire is to a road trip.

...texting is to spelling.

…blogging is to any time-management strategy.

Some days, the very thought of the insurmountable laundry chore RUINS me.

But I’m not giving up completely.

Someday, dear Laundry, I will surprise you and locate the balance necessary to defeat you or the money necessary to hire help. But until then, you can pile up and think you’re winning while I’m being creatively messy with my children. I’ll let the scale tip in their direction any day.

Happy Veterans Day

May God bless the men, women, and families that have sacrificed everything so that we may experience this freedom that we call life in America.

Your service is appreciated, and your courage is immeasurable. Thank you!

Happy Veterans Day!

Today's Pep Talk

You can be anything,

ANYTHING,

you want to be...

...even a football-playing princess.

Dance Like Nobody's Watching

Glycemic Fest 2010

If you are here to read the six-part series featuring domestic violence, please click here.


Last weekend was filled with plenty of seasonal fun.

Friday night we participated in a Trunk or Treat at our church. Believe it or not, we didn't have any clue what our theme was going to be until after 12:30 PM that day when J decided he was dressing up as a football player. Surprisingly, things came together fairly easily and with very little stress. Less than an hour before the event began, Steve had the awesome idea to make a goal post.





Disorganization paid off this time! I must admit, though, by the end of the night I was kind of regretting not bringing the most important tailgating prop...the beer!

And still no decent picture of my two children...



...but we now have a goal post in our backyard. How are the Joneses going to keep up with that? (No, we don't really know anyone with that last name. Yes, I did have to resort to Google for a lesson in plurality.)

On Saturday we were off to cheer on the Huskers at my cousin's home. The kids celebrated the victory and the season by painting pumpkins. What started off as a fairly well-controlled activity,







quickly became quite out of hand.








So much so, that I opted to protect my camera over capturing the moment.

Nonetheless, three very artsy little girls earned themselves a bath.



Here's the water to prove it, and that color is not due to the lighting!




And a not-so-happy daddy cleaning up.




Sunday, of course, was Halloween. Knowing that I could not compete with last year's amazing homemade Moses costume, I didn't even try this year.



Our kids have plenty of dress-up clothes, so that evening I directed them to go pick out a costume. J went into his room and returned quickly asking for help removing his button-up shirt. As I was assisting him, he announced, "A superhero is about to be born!"




After Batman and Cinderella made their ways around our neighborhood, we headed home so the real festivities could commence.

Instead of rationing out the candy over weeks to months, we have a less accepted philosophy: eat 'til you wanna puke.

We did attempt to throw in a little education by graphing our candy, but our soaring blood glucose levels interfered with our ability to learn.




Glycemic Fest 2010 (a.k.a The Great Pancreatic Challenge), complete with apple cider (Oh my! Thirty grams of carbs per 8 oz. serving!), lived up to all the hype.



Uh-oh! The Nerds got spilled. Someone needs to be cut off!



However, we did learn one big lesson out of all of this.

Our children need to be trained to go for the Reese's next year.




Happy Gluttony!