Time for the THANKFUL post.

It's trite and everyone does it this time of year. But that's okay because it's important to stop, inspect, reflect, and corn-ily gush about the things that make your heart go pitter-pat.

So, you know how I do with me lists:

-a husband who not only buys me coffee filters before I run out (he doesn't drink coffee) but who also buys me the t-shirt above because I love the show Friday Night Lights. Riggins is so dreamy.

-two little peanutty buttons who crawl into bed with me and whisper-shout with their yummy morning breath.

-a woodstove that cranks out wintery warmth and the money to buy wood for it.

-parents who would do anything for me and my crew.

-hot hot hot water.

-tea kettle and Earl Grey.

-real friends I can call who'll be ready for me, no matter what.

-the age and wisdom to know how and when to let go and move on.

-strong legs and a belly with some scars on it.

-food in the pantry and even more in the freezer.

-a job that pays me in many ways.

What about you? Share please!

Tidbits.

Oh dear. Upon review of my blog I realize that it's been a cranky few weeks for me. We've had a rough fall as a family unit. But we're good. We're fever-free (I'm knocking feverishly on wood now, pun intended) and my antibiotics have almost run out and I'm seeing the light at the end of the tunnel.

And so I'm starting to make plans. Masters plus 30? Yeah, almost there. Getting myself in shape mentally and physically? Yep. Creating better boundaries and sticking close to home? You-betcha.

I'm also checking out some new sites that I really like:

www.crankyfitness.com (how perfect is this?)

www.susanpowteronline.com I know, I know, I'm still on this site. Even though I've decided that Susan and I won't be besties (I don't know if she appreciated my blog....oops!). Listen. The woman has some fierce recipes.

www.heythattastesgood.com This has awesome gluten-free recipes and the author takes amazing pics of her process and product. Think photojournalism meets gluten free hippy chef.

And read this book if you have any desire to...it's so interesting. Talk about the food industry. Talk about our brain's hard-wiring to not only seek out but 'hyper-eat' foods with fat, sugar and salt (and even moreso foods with layers of each and all). Talk about how strong dopamine is in our brains and how we (really) don't have control once the shoveling starts. If you like science-driven food information, you'll like this.

Oh! And if you have large feet. If you have Sasquatch feet. If you have feet that are hard to fit. If you have large calves (hey-o!) like me, you'll like www.zappos.com Free shipping! Sizes 11 and up! Pictures! Multiple views! And boots for us lassies with some husky calves.

Stay healthy!
XO
Jen

Are You Kidding Me?

Let me set it up for you: My house is currently, an infirmary. We had two weeks at the end of last month that was snot-central. Where I hit the pediatrician's office every time I heard the wheeze of my youngest and got a sleeve crunchy with what I wiped off her face. I am pretty good and not flipping out about something that I can't directly control. I don't freak out when the terror-alert color changes. But this latest 'pandemic' has me checking cheeks and using rectal thermometers with a frequency that has my children developing a healthy fear of the vaseline jar. "It doesn't hurt honey. It just feels a little weird."

We've had two ER trips in the last two weeks (everybody's fine). If a trip to the ER doesn't stress you out, seeking people with masks on may. Or being quarantined in a room with other mask-wearers, may. Between the sleep-loss from midnight drives, sleep-loss from worrying that you're missing something, sleep-loss from hearing them cough, and sleep-loss from all the other reasons why you normally lose sleep, I'm tired. I'm really really tired.

So between my husband and myself, it's like Zombie-land at this house. Apart from the incredibly energetic bursts from the kiddos, which we're unfortunately trying to corral as they send them into long and painful coughing fits. Last night the youngest wanted to be up. And up she was. For hours. She also, apparently, wanted to get to the baby powder that's on the changing table. So, up she went with her spidey-like climbing limbs and she emptied it out. And then she got to the clippers (no blood loss). And honestly, nothing worked. No gentle reprimands. No redirections. No less-than-gentle reprimands. Usually my last-straw, "You go nigh-night!" does the trick but she may as well has just flipped me off last night. Girlfriend was not having it!

She finally, after three hours, made it into the big bed. Yes, she won! I lost! I caved! And it just didn't matter, because we both were desperate for sleep and I knew that not even an hour later, I would be peeling her Elmo-pajama'd body off my back and gently snuggle her in her own bed.

So I know you're stuck in your own sick spin cycle, but that's the view from mine. I'm off to Neti Pot.

Spin Cycle

I remember my old spin cycles. When I was swamped with my job, going to graduate school, and trying to maintain a (albeit already terrible) relationship. Even earlier, managing part time work and a full courseload and making time for girl night and beer. There were times that it got so concentrated that I felt like I had to just shut my eyes, keep my head low, and drive through it.

Of course as a parent, my spin cycles are more intense and for me, harder to manage because these little people don't seem to sympathize when you are 'done' and need a nap, or a tub, or an afternoon to lay on the couch and watch TLC (or The Travel Channel when they're doing 'No Reservation' reruns. Anthony Bourdain is my kind of asshole). Whether it was early on when the baby ran a fever and we took turns staying up and watching her, cooling her off with a washcloth and keeping the Motrin at the ready; or perhaps now with two little ones, shuttling us back and forth to the pediatrician's office and trying to stay calm about fevers and coughs and 'flu symptoms'.

It's been like that for awhile here. Sick kids, sick parents, sick friends. Less sleep than is preferable. Less time for long walks. Less time on the phone with friends. So much so that I felt like I was under a blanket for a few weeks, not able to return phone calls or write emails. Just enough to prepare meals, keep a house (relatively) clean, keep the laundry going and have time to push kids on swings and read books, when they were feeling LESS lousy.

And normally I'll admit that I get very itchy when I feel like I haven't been out or just alone, really. But this last time was different. Maybe I was feeling particularly protective of our family time, after a rough few weeks of transition for my children and a time of reflection for me. Don't get me wrong, I've scooted out a few nights to hit the grocery store or go shop for the kids, but there is a rush to get back. To check in on them. Feel their cheeks. Snuggle them in. Smell their hair and smile a little at how silly they got in the tub earlier.

To know they are mine, always and truly. And to stay close for as long as I can.