Good Enough?

This has been a mixed up jumbled week.  I haven't completed an official workout in a week, I haven't tracked my calories in over 10 days, and I lost no weight this week.

The kicker?  I really don't care all that much. 

Ya see those things I haven't done?  Those were choices I made.  Deliberate choices.

Cleaning my house on Saturday?  Far more important than working out.  Helping my sister over the weekend?  That's getting the job done.  In light of the week's events "completed her food and exercise diary for XX/XX/20XX and was under her calorie goal" didn't even register on the radar.

Having lunch with the Princess and Little Man, followed by dinner & playing on the playground with them was far more rewarding than any training run could come close to being.

I'm going to apologize in advance for not being able to cheer you on commenting on your blogs this week.  I understand that many of you are on this journey so you can have those moments with your children and grandchildren.  I also understand (maybe more than anyone) how health and vanity get confused sometimes.

How'd I do on my goals?  While I had a salad most days, I averaged about 2 fruits/veggies a day (at least 3 was goal).  I moved every day, but Wednesday/Thursday were the only two days I actually "worked out". 

I did very well on my water - I drank as much water as possible without Jay fussing on me for having to take potty breaks on our road trips.

I hit the reading goals out of the park.   Practically every night I've read on my front porch swing.  For those days we were traveling I love reading while riding in the car.  Even exhausted at 11:30 at night, I got my Bible reading in. 

So while I'm up 1.4 pounds from last week, I'm happy with my life.  I'm blessed to have an incredible family.  I'm blessed that we're all in (mostly) good health.  My sister said a few days ago that it was surreal having her Grandparents extend their condolences for the passing of her husband's father. 

My BIL was headed home for a spring break visit when he got a call from his SIL.  The ambulance was at his parents house and they were trying to resessitate his father.  His flight couldn't be pushed up any more, and he arrived 2 hours before his father passed. 

I refuse to believe things like that are coincidence.

Also?  Through a conversation started by Twitter, God's hand of protection with my husband was revealed to have started from an early age.  His hemophillia diagnosis was late in coming, which meant he was never treated with human blood - including blood infected with HIV like many other hemophilliacs in that era.  He was, however, diagnosed just days before he was about to have surgery.  A surgery that would have quite possibly killed him since the doctors weren't aware of his bleeding disorder.

God's timing is always perfect, whether we realize it or not.

I guess knowing all of that, its hard for me to care that eating pizza and ice cream with my niece caused me the scale to rise. 

She's missing her father and sad about her Papa.  And I'm just enough for her, to provide her with comfort and a sense of security.

If I'm enough for her and the Little Man (& my husband & parents & grandparents & doctor), that's enough for me.

What's your story?

I've been doing a lot of deep reading here lately.  On the surface the books look harmless enough.  They aren't 1,000 pages long nor are they filled with heavy words or a vocabulary that requires me to have a dictionary every step of the way.

Yet they have both stimulated my mind.  To pull myself out of the ordinary and into the world of greatness.

Step one - Don't feed the black dog. (depression)

Step two - Consider each choice in light of eternity.

Step three - Begin living a story so great your heart smiles just thinking about it.

Last week I finished reading my preview copy of Andy Andrews'  The Final Summit: A Quest to Find the One Principle That Will Save Humanity(official review to follow in a few weeks).  This week I've been working on Donald Miller's A Million Miles in a Thousand Years.

Why do I do what I do?

What difference am I making in this world?

I'm starting to get excited about sharing my stories from Hawaii because what good is living fun stories if you can't share them.

I'm also excited about planning out my stories for the next few years. 

If you'll excuse me, I'm off to change the world.

What I love about real life is that stories can be as simple as hugging your niece tightly because she's too young to understand her feelings and just needs to feel loved.  But they can also as complicated as spending 14 hours in the car to help your sister fix a mistake.


What's your story?  What kind of legacy are you leaving for your children and for generations to come?  I'd love to hear about them!

Also? Please continue to remember my brother-in-law, sister, and the rest of the family in prayer as they say their final goodbye's to his father. 

Mission Minded Monday

For a while now, I've been a consumer at my "new" church.  I use the quotes because I've now been there over a year.  People have since visited, joined the church and plugged in while I sit on the sidelines.

Thankfully that is all starting to change.

A few weeks ago my Sunday school class committed to feeding the homeless.  Every Wednesday night a local organization Lost Sheep Ministry sets up under a bridge and provides a hot meal.  Originally we were suppose to serve last Wednesday, but the ministry informed us that they were overbooked with groups wanting to help (Ash Wednesday - no doubt) and could we come this week.

After soliciting help for the nursery (yet again - we're a church growing with babies every week it seems! don't worry, I don't drink out of the water fountain) and for a media person (ours was out on vacation so we had to resort to using the old hymnal), the pastor said that anyone looking to get involved should see him after the service.

So I did.  I let him know that I wasn't a huge fan of babies so nursery work wasn't something I was interested in helping with, but that I wasn't sure what else was left for me.  He threw out some ideas, took down my phone number and said he'd call to discuss them more fully.

Also?  My mom called this morning asking if I would be interested in joining a hiking ministry.  Her church (where I'm still officially a member even though I attend elsewhere) is starting up a program.  She didn't want to be involved by herself, but my dad isn't physically able to do it.  I told her that I couldn't make the initial meeting (also this Wednesday), but I would love to be a part of it! 

I'm so exciting at all the work God is doing in my life right now!

How do you give back to the community?  Are you a part of a church ministry?  Maybe a community organization that helps out?  If you're not involved, I'd encourage you to seek out ways to change that.  There are plenty of great things out there just waiting to be done!

Random Junk Mail Prompts Me to Prompt You to Action

I'm the designated mail getter at my house.  Our box is at a weird spot in relation to our driveway and I always drive by (yes drive, not walk) and get it on my way in from work.  I'm a weirdo in that I enjoy getting junk mail, I even enjoy bills.  No mail is the only kind of mail I don't enjoy.

Before you cart me off to the loony bin, I enjoy opening bills because I get that nerdy high when I open them and write them in my day planner (in red ink - to show its money owed.)  Then when I pay the bill I highlight it in green (the color of money) to show its paid.

Okay, I'm starting to get a nerdy high just talking about it, and I'm getting myself off track.

Junk mail.

I love it.

I'm not sure why, but I love opening my mailbox to find something.  Anything. 

One of those random pieces of junk mail is a hemophilia newsletter.  If you've read here very long you know my husband is a mutant.  (No really - he has a genetic disease that no one else in his bloodline has.  A mutation.) 

Unfortunately, he's not a mutant in the variety of Wolverine. 

(source)

Okay so the knives shooting out of his hands would be creepy in real life, but I'm talking about Wolverine's ability to regenerate.  In fact, my husband's problem is just the opposite.  As a hemophiliac, his blood lacks a clotting factor.  The result?  His body takes longer to heal than your average non-mutant.  Sometimes to the point of requiring medication to help things along.

Back to the newsletter.  Every month (or is it once a quarter) we're told of the different places we can go have a free meal if only we'll sit through a presentation from a pharmaceutical rep.  (Believe it or not the cheapest couple in the world has never attended one of these.)

What I did find out?  March is Hemophilia awareness month.

I don't claim to be an expert on the topic, but I know that loving someone with the blood disorder can sometimes be scary and painful.  I know the basics about the disease.  You and I probably clot in the 90-100% range, my husband clots in the 10-12% range.  Even scarier is that he is a mild case, and that there are hemophiliacs who have a less than 1% clotting ability.

I'm thankful that his case is mild.  I'm also thankful that since we've been together, he's only had one major injury.  (You can read about it here and here.)

As a hemophiliac born in the same decade as Ryan White, I'm glad to say that my in-laws did whatever they had to do to ensure that Jay was never treated with human blood.  Having said that I know there are some people where that's just not feasible.  One treatment can cost thousands of dollars.

Because of that, I'm asking you to give blood.  In my area, Medic is our local supplier when it comes to donating or receiving blood.  I don't know if you have a similar organization in your area, but please do some research.  Donating to Medic means your family is covered (for free) if the situation arises that you would need a transfusion.  And thankfully, due to tragedies like Ryan White's, the blood is highly screened and safe.

One day I was playing around on Facebook and saw a "donate blood and run a 5K" challenge.  You guys know how much I love a good race, so my first thought was "I should do that."  I had just finished up my treatments for anemia, so it only took a second for me to remember what a bad idea that was.

My second thought?  Maybe I could talk Jay into giving for me!  Obviously the excitement about the race had clouded my judgment.  His blood would be as useful to Medic as tits on a boar hog.  (One of my dad's favorite sayings.)

Not one to give up quickly (unless it suits me), I talked my dad into giving.  He's a Medic regular - gives on behalf of himself and my mom, on behalf of my family, and on behalf of my sister's family (they won't take BIL's blood because he's from the United Kingdom).  I told him that he needed to wait to give until I could tag along and take pictures.

Thankfully, he's not one to shy away from the spotlight, and the Medic people didn't think I was too crazy.

Hi Daddy!  I promised the Medic workers that I wouldn't get pictures of any one's faces except my father's.  Medical confidentiality and all.

The process is really easy.  After some paperwork and a quick finger prick (to make sure you're not anemic) you then get escorted to one of these lovely beds.  The get you hooked up and off you go.  I have tiny little stubborn veins.  I've had nurses fight over who has to take my blood.  Both times with Medic?  They hit me first try with no problems.

Once you fill 'er up, you get cookies, soda, and a free t-shirt.  All for giving the gift of life!

Yes, everything around here revolves around University of Tennessee football. *eye roll* but you can't blame Medic.  Whatever works, right?

So please, give blood if you can.  If not, try to encourage someone in your family who can to do so.  Also?  Please never take your good health for granted.  I promise, for every time you participate in a contact sport, there is a mutant out there somewhere wishing that he could join you. 

"Thanks guys."

Fancy Dress Friday

I was sick the week following Valentine's so I didn't post my pictures from the dinner and dance.  Hope yall don't mind me posting them a bit late.  (Forgive the duplication, those of you who have seen them on facebook already.)

As if you couldn't tell by looking at them, the handsome couple on the right is my parents.  Okay maybe "handsome" isn't the right word for the Possum (my father's mustache) but we're a good lookin' crew right?  My mom found both of our dresses the week before at JC Penny for under $5. 

Seriously.

Here is my goofy friend Kristi giving someone the what for, and Maria smiling for the camera.  My parents went on and on about how funny Kristi was that night.  Thing is, she's always that funny.  That's why we keep her around.

Callie is one of the reasons the dance exists.  The other reason is her little brother Cale.  They both have Cystic Fibrosis.  The Valentine's Dinner and Dance (along with other fund raisers hosted by Cure Finders) raises money to fun research for a cure.

The event was a success!  As with most every year, all the tables sold out.  In fact, they had to make room for some extras.  Sounds like a great problem to have if you ask me!

What would a charity event be without a silent auction?  Typically Jay buys me a Valentine's gift at the auction to try and cover for his procrastination.  This year, since we'd decided we weren't purchasing gifts, he set his sights on a gift for my Dad's 60th birthday.  I came down to the wire, but we ended up getting it!

As you can see it was a great night.  Service usually doesn't look this pretty.

The Weekend is a-coming!

• I started the book Intuitive Eating last night and can already tell that it'll make a difference.  The first few chapters describe exactly what I'm going through right now.  Either they were able to read my blog before I ever wrote it - even thought it - or else I'm not the only one in this postion.  I'm hopeful that it will help.
• I'm a month behind in my marathon training.  This should either be a 9 or 11 miler per my training plan.  It will be a 7 miler.  Crap - how am I going to make this up?
• My parents are heading to my sister's to watch the Princess play soccer.  I figure its now or never for me, since my mileage will only be increasing. 
• I have no clue when I'm going to clean my house. 
• I'm a perfectionist.  So in my world a dirty house = failure as a human.
• I'm considering a media fast.  Internet (non-work related), TV, movies, magazines.  I can't give up books and am not sure if I should give up the radio.  Can I last a week??
• I go back to the Hematologist for my 3 month follow-up.  I'm hoping he cuts me loose after this.  Do you think it would be appropriate to write a thank you letter to the infusion nurses?  I thought about including my race report and saying "thank you for the gift of completing this race."  Thoughts?
• Anyone had experience with iron-on words?  I was thinking about making a t-shirt for my next 5K.
• Did I mention I'm a nervous rex (I <3 Toy Story) and overwhelmed? 

NC part 2

The 3rd and final day we were in Blowing Rock, NC we visited Grandfather Mountain.  Jay & I thought it was just a mile high swinging bridge - turns out it was much more!

We picnic-ed near the nature museum so that we could catch the 1 o'clock snake demonstration.  Once we learned all about corn snakes, we were allowed to touch it.  The Little Man was the first to raise his hand, but the Princess took some convincing.

In the end, the thought of being able to chase Mamaw (my grandmother who's terrified of snakes) and her JuJu (baby sitter who's like an extra grandmother to the kids) with her snakified hand.

Then it was on to the animal exhibits.  Claire saw the "one armed" eagle first and had to tell us all about it.  Apparently it lost its wing to gunfire before being relocated to the park.

The otters had just been fed, so they were hiding out behind logs the first pass through, but we finally got a glimpse of them. 

The black bears were just hanging out. 

After a fudge pit stop, we were headed to the swinging bridge - the main attraction.  For Jay & I at least.  My mom, sister, and the kids had no interest.  Actually the Little Man was interested, he just wasn't allowed.

Upon further review, my dad decide he wasn't going to cross either.  So it was just Jay, BIL, and myself.  At least we had a camera man come with us right?

That's us in the very middle.  Jay is wearing a yellow shirt and I'm in a pink/red tank.

The Princess finally got brave enough to meet her dad in the middle of the bridge & my dad put on his big girl panties and crossed.  The rest of the crew kept with their original decision.

While the bridge itself isn't a mile from the ground, it is a mile above sea level. 

Then it was on to the rock cliffs ahead.

And while this last picture is photo shopped - its not for the reason you think.  The BIL didn't notice that I was imitating a plumber before he snapped the picture.  The only touch ups that were done on this picture were just making my pants look like they came up higher than they really did!

Following Grandfather Mountain (and the purchase of some silly bands to swap with the Princess) we headed to a pizzeria.  It was recommended to us by a GM clerk, and it looked like it was a nice place.  When we got seated we noticed some extra decor added to the windows.

Turns out several years before they had a waitress with a very jealous boyfriend.  He suspected that the owner was a true Italian stallion and paid the restaurant a little visit.

That's some strong glass!

We parted ways and headed home.  The end of a fun trip is always the hardest part, isn't it?

North Carolina part 1

Two weekends ago my family took a trip to Blowing Rock, North Carolina.  Jay was a little slow at getting the pictures uploaded, so here is the full report just a tinsy bit late.

We left early on Sunday, but tried to keep the excitement to a minimum.  We had trouble finding a breakfast meeting spot (where my parents, Jay & I were supposed to meet up with my sister and her family).  The first mom & pop place we tried wasn't open on Sunday, and the 2nd confirmed via a phone call they were open, but when we arrived at their location no one was there.  (We've since discovered that they moved.)

Though we were all starving, we decided to stop in at a place my sister had eaten at before 30 minutes up the road.  My mom decided to ride between the princess and little man's seats and got hit with some projectile vomit (courtesy of the princess's car sickness) for her trouble.

Once we got into town, we didn't do a whole lot.  We walked up and down the street going into the cute little shops, stopping at the park to play, even finding a garage sale to shop!  After checking into the cottage, we freshened up then went back out to a pub for dinner.  After trying a sip of my BIL's beer selection, I went with a pint of Old Speckled Hen. 

It wasn't until Monday that the fun really got started.

Something that we didn't realize when booking the cottage with Blowing Rock Resort Rentals, was that their policy only allowed for 1 bag of garbage for the entirety of our stay.  8 people in a cabin for 3 days, and we only got 1 bag of trash.  If we left anything above that we'd be charged an additional $10 per bag.

Ridiculous right?  They did, however, include directions to the nearest trash dumps. 

My father instructed me not to tell you the story about the dump.  About how due to road construction he didn't see the dump entrance until it was too late to turn in, so he went out the in.  About how the "gentleman" working the dump lectured us about how we'd cause an accident coming in the wrong way.  How he and my dad argued for 5 minutes about whether or not it hurt anything.  About how my dad tried to explain it was an accident and we were tourists (and the problem wouldn't happen again) but the guy kept being a jerk about it.  About how my dad called him all kinds of names once we pulled away- names we were hoping the Little Man wouldn't try to repeat.

Then it was on to Tweesie Railroad - the Little Man loves trains (and all things "go-go" related) so we figured it'd be fun for him.  I was less than enthused about Jay and I shelling out $32 each for a stupid train ride, but we were pleasantly surprised at everything the park has to offer.

First off, they allowed us to bring in our picnic lunch.  Coming from a tourist town ourselves, we're use to being told we can't even carry in a bottle of water in our purse, much less lug in a rolly cooler full of sandwiches, fruit, and drinks.

After the train ride, we had lunch, then headed into the park toward the rides.  Jay took a million pictures (as always) and while some of them didn't turn out to his liking, it meant that I could post some on my blog.  You see my sister thinks the Internet is full of crazies just waiting to kidnap her children.  I've been given specific instructions not to post their gorgeous faces on my blog.  Enter Jay's photo fails.

The princess was too tall to ride the kiddie rides, and surprising (and sadly) enough the Little Man was big enough to go it alone!

One payoff for the princess being as tall as kids a year older than her was that she got to ride the adult rides - here's one of her in between her parents are the tiltawhilr.

The Little Man (with my sister & mom) were in front of the Princess and I on the Merry-Go-Round.

The photo fails of the Princess are few and far between - in true diva fashion she always knows where the camera is and is always willing to pose.  Here Jay has caught us in the middle of enjoying an ice cream snack.

The Princess and BIL were in the pole position.  Followed by Jay & I, my dad and the little man, then my mom and sister.  No, that isn't a possum on my dad's face.  Its his beloved mustache that makes him look about a decade older than he really is.

Here are a couple of mean rascals we found in the Tweesie jail, but the must have broken out because we found them riding off into the sunset a couple hours later.

As I said we were pleasantly surprised at how much fun the park was.  When we'd finally had enough we headed back to the cottage for some grilled steaks (courtesy of my dad).  The evening was capped off by a rousing game of Apples to Apples, before everyone headed to bed in the late 9 o'clock hour.

We're getting old!

Sad - the vacation edition

I'll be back tomorrow to catch up on your blogs!

Wanna know what's sad?

Scoring the bottom floor room and getting excited on vacation being a million degrees cooler than home...only to realize its the basement with no air vents or even fans.

The little man being big enough to ride rides at the amusement part by himself.

The princess being too big to ride the little kid rides.

My dad almost getting beat up by the dude at the garbage dump.

The whole family going to bed before 10 PM.

Leaving half a bottle of wine untouched.

Clients calling Jay at 11 PM.  (Thankfully he didn't answer...last night.)

Going home and getting back to the real world.

Now the countdown begins for Jay & my vacation alone in Myrtle Beach!!