A Million Things I do Poorly

I have been told I am a terrible blogger.  I don’t feel bad.  I will just add it to the list of a million other things I am terrible at, Zuma (dumb facebook game), mothering, presenting sharing time (which I am currently avoiding prepping for), gardening, cooking, cleaning…like I said, “add it to the list”.

I would love to be able to detail all of the amazing and exciting things that have happened to our family since we last posted, but I can’t even remember what I made for dinner two nights ago, so detailing month’s worth of activities is impossible. 

Let’s see if I can hit the highlights. 

February was all about Odyssey of the Minds!  I helped coach Bubba’s team two to three times a week, and Pie’s team seemed to practice almost every day, but all of the hard work paid off.  Pie’s team won first place in her division at the Regional competition, which means her team qualified for State.  Bubba’s team did a great job (if they had judged them competitively his team totally would have won.  He is in the Primary Division so they don’t go on to State.   This actually made me pretty happy since I didn’t have to keep coaching. 

In March we hit the Air Show again.  We had a great time.  My kids love watching the planes, and as usual it did not disappoint.   We also had a visit from Matt.  I know he wanted his own blog post, but he didn’t bring Valorie with him, just a whole bunch of stinky boys, so he doesn’t get his own post.  Not to mention he taught Brady a whole bunch of April Fools tricks.   Let’s just say, there was a whole bunch of screaming and panic when Pie turned on the water in the kitchen and the sprayer drenched her.  Really?   Who thought teaching a six year old to tape down the handle on the kitchen sink sprayer was a good idea??   We wrapped up March with a trip to the State Odyssey of the Mind competition where Pie’s team took  4^th.  I won’t lie, I was quite relieved.  The top two teams  go to World’s, which will be held in Iowa this year.  I don’t have a clue how we would have fit that into our jam packed schedule…maybe next year.

In early April we were lucky enough to have my sister and her husband and my niece Lou come for Spring break.  My kids were in heaven.  They LOVE getting spoiled by their Auntie.  We also found ourselves up to our eyeballs in Football again.   This time Bubba is playing in a Flag only league and we are all enjoying it much more.  He can play in this league until he is fourteen, which will be better for Mom than having him go to tackle next year.   On April 20^th I was lucky enough to get to see College Daughter graduate from Brigham Young University.  We are so proud of all of her accomplishments.  Although, what do I call her now?  Full-time Employed Daughter?  Oh wait, I guess we could call her Engaged Daughter.  Yep, you read that right; she also got engaged the same weekend.  We are very happy for her and her fiancée (he doesn’t have a blog name yet).  My Dad and Step-Mom also visited us in April.  We had a great time with them.  They got to see Bubba play football, and we took them on a day trip to Julian, CA.  It was so nice to get to spend some time with them.   To top off our crazy April Bubba turned SEVEN!!!  I am not sure how that even happened.   He is my baby.  Luckily he still likes to climb in my lap every morning and snuggle for a few minutes. 

May---I don’t know, I am too tired to think about it.  Lots of dentist appointments, lots of swimming, lots of car repairs (Maybe that is why I am so tired.  Do you see the trend of money freely flowing out of my pocket book?).  School will be out this month, and the kids have been loving all of the end of school activities. 

Thanks for all four of our readers who kept checking for updates.  Hopefully I will post at least once a week.

Tough Mudder...Mission Accomplished

Okay, so I did the Tough Mudder Arizona. I DID the Tough Mudder. I AM a Tough Mudder.

Let me explain...

We got there at about 9:45 AM and then Matt, Luke, Bo, Daisy and I spent approximately one hour and forty minutes in a big ol' parking line. There was a point at which we thought the noon start time might be in jeopardy simply because we couldn't park. We persisted however, and we eventually made it to the event. And the event was an EVENT. Blaring rock music. Bouncing freaks in every costume known to man. Buzzcuts aplenty. Entire teams with tutus. Mud covering every square inch of the place. Mud-covered semi-finishers stumbling around mumbling to themselves. Skinny chicks complaining about how cold they were. Pairs of running shoes just laying around in random filth. Newbies (like me) just soaking it all in. It was awesome!

We checked in, got our numbers written on our face with a Sharpie, checked in our single bag with all of our worldly possessions to a ditzy volunteer (we were under no illusion that we would ever get it back), and then proceeded to the Starting Line.

The Starting Line was great. The same guy that announces all of the Tough Mudders welcomed us. He got us all pumped up. There is apparently a lot of chanting "Hoorah", and we did our fair share of fist-pumping and general hoorah-ing. And then...they played the National Anthem. So cool to be sitting there with Veterans and Servicemen and women. It was really a humbling experience. And then you say the Tough Mudder Oath and...then...you do the countdown...and...then...you are off with all of the other crazies.

I would go through a blow-by-blow description of the race but I think it would just bore you all, so I am going to just say that the course was 12.5 miles long and contained 29 obstacles. 29 obstacles! TWENTY-NINE!

Here are the top five obstacle stories of Cool Dad's Tough Mudder:

1. Kiss of Mud and Chernobyl Jacuzzi: The first two obstacles are really a single obstacle in two stages. I arrived to see a bunch of barbed wire strung across a field of mud. The barbed wire was about 18 inches off the ground above the mud and the mud was yucky, nasty, brown yuck. Oh, and it had lots of gravel in it. You know, just to make sure your knees got bloodied at the very beginning. I was doing pretty good after having jogged for about a mile and I was really excited for the first obstacle. I got down on all fours and in 2.4 seconds I had bruised my knee, ripped my bib number completely off my shirt, got a mouthful of Arizona sand, and accumulated about 15 extra pounds of mud weight. At least I didn't snag myself on the barbed wire. I checked that obstacle off only to climb up a little ladder and confront a very compact little pool of ice-cold...ummm...water? I know it was ice-cold because of the ice floating in it, but it looked a little like anti-freeze (kinda ironic). I was so excited that I just jumped in. Not so bad...until...I had to duck my head under the water to go under this wooden wall. Not so bad...until...I came up on the other side to find myself in water about 15 degrees colder and about 5 times the amount of ice. It was like you had to break through it to get out of the pool! Now, I would like to be very delicate in describing the reaction I had for our sensitive readers. Cool Dad had some fear before the race that some chafing might occur during the race. You know...chafing...like... between the legs chafing. Well, after the Chernobyl Jacuzzi, the huevos had retired to a much warmer place never to be seen the rest of the day. I fear the visual may be too much for many of you, but know that the body is an amazing machine and it was in full self-preservation mode at this point. I think it realized that this was no 5k.

2. Jump Over the Backhoe Trench: I have no idea what this is really called, but it involves jumping over a bunch of backhoe trenches. I don't really know why I am mentioning this, but at about Mile 4 we hit this obstacle and I was doing just fine. And then after jumping over a buttload of backhoe trenches spaced precisely at a distance that Cool Dad can't just hop over them but has to run, jump and then collide into the opposite wall of the trench to breach them, I wasn't doing just fine. It was at this point that it went from being happy-go-lucky to being tough. And it was just getting tougher as we carried a railroad tie a half-mile on our shoulders and walked across a plank and crawled through a culvert and...and...

Berlin Walls #3: The goal of this obstacle is to get Cool Dad's fat butt (it is less fat than it once was, but let's not kid ourselves) over a series of two 12-foot walls. You will notice that this is tagged "#3" because it was the third and final set of these damnable walls on the course. So...after ten miles of sheer torture they want you to somehow navigate over these walls. To that point in the race, I had been a trooper, but at Mile 10, the tough, willing persona was long gone and I was but a wimpering shell. I pleaded with Bo, Luke and Matt to just get me over. They hoisted, grunted, cursed, roiled, swore, sweated, and labored, but eventually they got me over wall one. And then they repeated the exercise on wall two. I made it, but atop the final wall I got a charlie-horse mixed with a pulled muscle and a cramp and a headache and an ulcer, and a hernia, and...well...just about everything. I fell over the edge of the final wall and crashed to the ground in a heap. I looked up to see my teammates all smiling and then they all said "Ready to roll". I think I might have nodded or something, but then they all ran off. I have never loved and hated a group of individuals that much in my whole life. I started running and, miraculously, my injuries were but imagined.

Everest: Get Cool Dad up another devious obstacle. This time...a quarter pipe. Drenched in mud (cause, you know, the course involves a lot of mud) and dripping from something called Shock on the Rocks which involves water, barbed wire, and electroshocks, I arrived at the quarter pipe to see these big dudes hanging off the quarter pipe reaching down to help the plebeian hordes. I, too, was one of the horde. Every time someone would reach the top, the horde would scream and cheer. It was as if they were rescuers and we were mere victims clutched from the jaws of death (in all honesty, it was really inspiring). I watched the spectacle for a while before picking my line and making my run. I actually got pretty high on the quarter pipe and the guys (Matt and Bo) caught me and then the struggle began. They were like deep-sea fishermen trying to reel in a 230-lbs tuna and it was not going well for them. They almost got dragged back in to the ocean several times before they finally prevailed. I think the turning point was when Matt finally grabbed a big handful of Cool Dad's backside. That seemed to give them the leverage they needed. Matt and I will share that moment forever and ever. I love you, Matt!

Electroshock Therapy: Stupid! And we don't say that word in our family. Stupid! I don't know how to express the ridiculousness of taking 10,000 volts while standing in mud up to your knees. We were suckered in to thinking that going as a group might cushion the experience or help protect those in the middle or something. We clearly weren't thinking clearly. We clearly weren't thinking! So...two steps in...I hear a crack, I feel a jolt and the next thing I know I am face down in the mud quivering like a newborn pup in a summer lightning storm. I was just so scared of those dangling tentacles of pure evil! I crawled the rest of the way to the finish line and when I emerged from the mud I saw a little waif of a girl holding the Tough Mudder headband...and when I got there, she handed it to someone else and turned away from me. I was devastated...and cold...and a little miffed...until I saw another gal with a similar headband and she placed it on my mud-covered noggin. And I just quivered and shook and shivered as they handed me all the SWAG I could fit in the plastic bag that they had thrust in to my hand.

I was a Tough Mudder!

So, now, two days later. Mud is still emerging from orifices that I didn't know could hold mud. Muscles are aching in places that I didn't know could ache. Ibuprofin stock is steadily rising. And I am sitting here blogging to you folks.

Cool Dad is fine and he is one Tough Mudder!

One Tough Mudder...A Different Perspective

I am now down approximately 54 lbs. from my midsummer high in fatness and I am two short weeks away from what promises to be a horrendous attempt at addressing a mid-life crisis (aka the Tough Mudder)...so...I decided to write some observations for all of you about the last six months in the life of Cool Dad.

Here goes...

I miss Doritos and Dr. Pepper.

If you run 13.1 miles in freezing conditions without an anti-chafing chest guard, you are just begging for an uncomfortable post-run shower. OUCH!

I hate those guys and girls that can run a 5k in less than 24 minutes. I hate them and envy them at the same time.

I still look in the mirror and see a 23-year-old man...and I want to beat him up for wasting the last 20 years on Doritos and Dr. Pepper.

Big dogs bark at joggers.

I don't like it when other joggers encourage me, 'cause that just means they are faster than me and pity me, but I love it when I encourage other joggers 'cause it means I'm faster than them and I pity them.

I am still so competitive that I got really upset when a man pushing a stroller beat me in a 5k. I just wanted to go all Tonya Harding on him.

I am soooo tired.

I wore out the battery on that stupid scale in my bathroom.

I am not on a diet, but I'm thinking about calling my weight-loss plan the Fatkin's Diet.

I don't want to buy new clothes that fit, cause it makes me feel fat again. I like it when my clothes just hang on me.

All my self-deprecating fat jokes are slowly becoming obsolete.

The Tough Mudder experience was really a lapse in judgment. I mean...what was I thinking? There is no way I'm hauling my butt 12.5 miles in the mud over 12-ft high walls and through ice cold water. Silly, silly, silly Cool Dad.

I recently did a sauna and avoided all Ball Park Franks references.

I really like the T-shirts you get from entering a 5k.

My New Year's Resolution this year is to keep it going and run 500 miles in 2012.

Santa Claus is Coming to Town

I did it. I swore I wouldn't, but I did. "Never again," I said after last year, but I did it anyway. Last year loyal readers may recall that we spent Christmas with my sister and her family (this is not the part I said I would never do again). We had a great time. They live in snow country so my kiddies were very happy. It was the whole hauling Christmas out of state, and traveling during the holidays that I swore never to do again. This does not equal total relaxation.

Enter College Daughter. "Wouldn't it be fun to spend Christmas with Grandma and Grandpa? I sure love St. George around the holidays. Wow, it sure is going to be a long, long drive for me to come home at Christmas. Maybe we should meet in the middle, say at Grandma and Grandpa's?" Don't worry folks, I am no dummy. I knew exactly what she was doing, and I let her do it anyway.

Did I mention that her missionary came home to St. George over Christmas break? Hmmm, what an interesting coincidence.

I do have to admit it was a great holiday. We had lots of Grandma and Grandpa time(both sets) and lots of cousin play time. We went to see We Bought a Zoo, played games, and even managed to have Santa visit us.

Bubba was very happy with his remote control car. Pie loves her Holiday Barbie, and College Daughter got spoiled with a new camera.

Cool Dad even managed to keep up with his exercising. I am not entirely sure I will let him post about his 13 mile run. This is a family blog, and I am pretty sure you are not supposed to say nipguards on a G-Rated blog. Nuff said!

Even though we had a great time I didn't really break out the camera. Either of them. How sad. I hauled two cameras all that way and don't have a decent picture to show for it. So I guess you have to look at our Christmas card picture. Don't fret if you haven't received yours yet, they are in the mail.

Why My Six Year Old Cried

Ok, winning and losing are tough lessons for little ones to learn. Games at our house, not always so fun. Sometimes Bubba asks, "why can't we all just win? Why does somebody have to lose?" Let's keep in mind, this is usually after he has lost. He does not seem to be so concerned with this concept when he is the winner.

I think it was College Daughter who taught him the "winner, winner, chicken dinner dance". Yes, I am positive it was her.

This takes us to race day. No, I am not having memory loss(well, not about this anyway). I do remember I just posted about a race, but I don't want any of you out there to think Cool Dad is letting us slack off. He signed us all up for another 5k. This one was called the Reindeer Round-up, and yes, there were seniors there dressed up as elves. Just in case anyone was wondering.

On the the race. If you recall from the previous racing post. We had one child who kicked and screamed her way through the race only to take off on her own and finish a good ten minutes ahead of me. Well, for this race Cool Dad told the kids they could run their own race. They wouldn't have to be saddled with Hot Mom and her slow pace. (We'll get to Cool Dad's punishment, for turning my babies loose with a bunch of maniacs, a little later.)

Bubba, always glad to test new found freedom took of like a gazelle as soon as the race started. Luckily I had some spotters on the course looking for him, and it is somewhat of a loop so I could see him at various points throughout the race.

Oddly enough Pie decided to stick with me. About halfway through the race she commented on what a lovely day it was and how happy she was to be running the race with me. WHAT???? Is this the same child, who when told she has to stay with me freaks out and screams and cries for 44 minutes, but when given her freedom she stays with me? I don't really expect an answer on that one, and I digress, we are talking about winning and losing.

So the results break down like this:

Cool Dad shaves a couple of minutes off his Turkey Trot time.
Bubba blasts his Turkey Trot time and comes in easily nine minutes earlier.
Hot Mom and Pie stroll in leisurely, but Hot Mom still manages to shave a couple of minutes.

Pie wins a silver in her age group and Bubba wins a bronze.

Every time he has thought about it the last two weeks he starts to cry and says, "but I beat her, how come she got a silver and I got a bronze. It isn't fair!" He learned that from College Daughter too!

Thanksgiving and my Love, Hate Relationship

I’m not gonna lie. I don’t love it. Thanksgiving, that is. It was proposed once that maybe it is because I am not thankful. I do not find this to be the case. I am quite thankful for all that I have been blessed with, and I am perfectly happy going around the table with everyone telling what they are thankful for, and then diving into that steaming hot pizza in front of us. I am not opposed to this at all.

What I am opposed to is the obvious unfairness in the grand scheme of Thanksgiving preparation. My mom used to get me up EARLY on Thanksgiving morning to start the pies, and it went downhill from there. Where were the male members of my house you are wondering? Parked on the couch with only one switch in scenery the whole day, to drag themselves to the table. It just seems like so much for work for people who can’t even take their eyes off the TV. They could be eating liver, and probably wouldn’t notice.

So what does a person who doesn't enjoy Thanksgiving do for Thanksgiving??

The whole shebang at my brother’s house. Turkey, potatoes, yams, green bean casserole, etc. I would now like to thank my brother and his wife for making the Thanksgiving memories of my youth come to life. It felt so right, almost like they had rehearsed it for my benefit. She would yell for him to come in the kitchen and help her, and he would yell from the couch that he couldn’t because he was watching football. Oh the memories.

Despite the years of therapy this is going to require for me, we still had a lovely time getting together. The entire family was there which hasn’t happened for five years or so. We took advantage by having a family picture taken. Our weekend included, shopping, basketball, football, movies, games, shooting, food and Magic Mountain, and some very happy kids, which I am THANKFUL for.

Next year…pizza at my house!

College Days

I am a terrible parent.

Just ask Bubba.

He tells me all of the time.

Bubba has quite a few ideas about what he wants to do. He often comes to me at random times and asks questions which I am pretty sure he already knows the answer to.

"Mom, can I grow my hair super long?" No!

"Mom, can I buy a car?" Ummm NO!

So this goes on pretty much all day, every day.

Bubba has decided that if he can't do these things now, he will do ALL of them when he gets to college...He has started a list.

Things Bubba will do in college.

1. Grow his hair really long.
2. Dye said hair a crazy color.
3. Chew gum (no, this is not an activity currently allowed in my house).
4. Play music REALLY loud.
5. Buy his own car.
6. Become a jockey.
7. Eat desert every day.
8. Tease his sister without me knowing.
9. Check his room for cameras every day to make sure I am not spying on him. Not sure why this will be in issue in college, but he must be planning on being really BAD, and really scared I will find out.
10. Eat pizza every day.
11. Wear whatever he wants.
12. Watch sports after his bedtime.
13. Never do homework again.
14. Ride his bike without a helmet.
15. Ride his bike in the street without permission.
16. Walk to the store by himself.

Yes, as you can see, I am a terrible parent.

This list will continue to grow. Every day he comes in with a new question. When I say no, he just walks out and says, "I am adding it to my list".

I am actually getting a little afraid for Bubba to go to college. I don't think my nerves are going to be able to handle it.