possessive pronouns

Let me set the scene. In my classroom with my 13 precious students. I'm teaching grammar.

Teacher: This is new! It's called a possessive pronoun and we will label it PP.

Boy who loves to talk and is never afraid to speak his mind. He is looking at me with his chin down and eyebrows up.

Boy: That's a BAD WORD!

Me, turning around from the board, oblivious to his concern: What? What. (now it occurs to me, I know, I can be slow on the uptake)

Boy: That WORD you just said!

Me: What, PP?

Boy, still cutting his eyes up at me in disdain: Yesss. And you DON'T have to say it like THAT!

Me, trying not to laugh, because I can appreciate potty humor with the boys I've got in my own home: PP? P.... P.... The marking we use when we are classifying a POSSESSIVE PRONOUN.

Boy: IT'S a BAD word. You should stop using it.

Me: PP?

(giggling enters the room. as i scan the crowd, i realize the only ones giggling are boys.)

Me: Ohhhhhkay. Let's all get this out of our systems. If you need to giggle, let's do it now. Go ahead! Get your giggles over with. Because this really isn't funny. (pregnant pause)

(boys giggle and then try their hardest to straighten their faces out)

Enter scrumptious little girl who has two brothers and isn't a super girly girl.

Girl: Yah, because it's NOT FUNNY.

Me, looking at her: YES. So! Are we ready now?! Let's move on....

an actual conversation in my classroom

Student: Did you read this book last year with your class?

Me: No? I didn't. I wasn't teaching last year.

Little slip of a thing with blonde hair, big brown eyes, and a preciously huge smile: Well then what did you do?

Me: I stayed home as a mama.

Same sweet thing: That's AWESOME!! STAYING AT HOME!! Going SHOPPING! Getting your HAIR DONE! My mom is getting her eyebrows waxed today.


I might need to change my blog. No more chickens and running. I may have to start adding the quote of the day from my awesomely hilarious second graders. Mmm. I could eat them all with a spoon.

clear as dirt

Do you know what I love about running?

It makes all things that are muddy, clear as dirt.

Today, I went out for this:

And my thought was: HERE GOES NOTHIN'!

I didn't get my long run in last weekend, partly because I didn't get my lazy butt out of bed early and partly because my kids are in basketball and theatre and tournaments, oh my!

Either way, no excuses. I didn't do it.

So today, I set the goal of running 8-9 miles. And I mapped out my course on map my run. And then I hit the trail.

Running for a long distance with no one to talk to but Jesus brings a lot of clarity.

And today I came to realize that I'm not ready to run a half marathon. And it's O. K.

NEW GOAL!!

I'm going to run the 10K at Cowtown and call it good! Woooohooooo! Watch me run, people!

making goals

Sometimes in life we alter our goals. In one case it may because we need to push ourselves harder and in another it could be to face reality.

I went out for a run today. It's been a laaaaazy Christmas break and I've had lots of fun laying around and sleeping. And not running.

So I've been thinking about what races I'd like to run in 2014. And my favorite race is in Fort Worth, Texas. They run it every year in February and it's called Cowtown. This will be my third year and I'm really excited. However, I haven't been good at training this time around.

Last year I got the flu in January and was only able to run a pitiful 10K at Cowtown. But this year, I'm excited to run the half again.

And thus, the altered goal.

I'm squeezing in a modified training and doing a 3:1 minute Run/Walk to make this happen. My 7 miles today were amazing! I can do this!!

So let me end with this little lesson on running.

When you're running a long way and you need to pee, what do you do?
a. sprint to the closest gas station
b. swing by a friend's house
c. pee down your leg
d. squat in the bushes

Let me tell you what I do. Keep running. And you know why?

1. I don't want my potty stop to affect my time. I know, sounds crazy. But I'm not alone in the running world.
2. Two words: Desert Rat. Do you know about the Desert Rat? It pees very infrequently and when it goes, there is a tiny single drop of very concentrated urine.
Why did I tell you this? Because inevitably, if I wasted my time stopping to pee and throw my time off, I would be the Dessert Rat.

Not worth it. TOTALLY not worth it.

675 eggs and then some

This is one of three ornaments I got this Christmas season from sweet friends who know and love that I love my girls.


Yes, 675. That's how many eggs we got from our girls in 2013. Well, since I started counting. And I started counting when they all started laying.

They all started laying May 1. They were 6 months old. And productive! Clearly.

Interesting stats (if you give a hoot at all about my silly chickens):

*June was their best month (130 eggs)

*From May-August, they laid the majority of their eggs. 476.

*In December, they (and by they, I mean Eva) laid 22 eggs total. Ouch. I hated buying eggs in the store.

All in all, a good first year with my girls. They are still roaming the yard daily, enjoying each other's company and the occasional visit from Chloe, and staying out of trouble. The cold weather has not deterred them. Although when it's snowed, they stay in the run. And yes, they are warm and fine at night, for those of you worrying that I don't worry enough. That means you, Mom. ;)

Yes. 675 eggs. That's a lot of farm fresh goodness. Right here in suburbia.

tis the season to give

I can be so ridiculous. When I get inspired to make something, I can't stop. And usually one craft project turns into another. And another.

So yesterday I went to Hobby Lobby, my favorite store. Looking for a Christmas gift for me? Ahem... maybe a gift card? haha!
Anyway, I digress.

I was wandering around, trying to figure out what to make for my little class of 13 students for Christmas.

Toward the beginning of the school year I realized I needed some pencil cups at school, so I took two soup cans and made these.

And the kids LOVED them. We want one!!, they all begged. Okay, maybe in all my free time, I'll make some for our classroom that you can use to hold your pencils.

I began collecting cans.

And then I walked into HL and the wheels began a' turnin'. And before I knew it, these "free" gifts had turned into not-so-free and quite-time-consuming little cups! At least the cans were free!

So here they are:

The boys have mustaches and the girls have a little crown charm and their big fat bows.

Here's what I bought to make them:

I just took off the can label, cut paper to fit (about 4x8 inches) , glued one end down with Tacky Glue and then wrapped it. On the other end I cut tape to fit the height of the can and reinforced it that way, so the end wouldn't be sticking out and possibly get caught on something and rip.

Then I tied a ribbon around the can and slipped on the mustache or charm and made a bow.

I used three different types of crown charms because they didn't have 7 of any one kind. One type had to be attached like this:

Then they were ready to add the fuzzy red and green pencils I found at Michaels. Voila!

I love how they turned out and the kids did, too. :)
Merry Christmas!
XOXO

my inner grinch

I LOVE CHRISTMAS.

It's my favorite time of year. But this year, I've been a little "ba humbug." Maybe it's that I felt like the season snuck up on me. Maybe it's that I'm tired of all my decor. Maybe I'm just tired of pulling it all out, just to put it all back up in 3 weeks.

I did all I could do this year, with about half my regular decorations. I normally have 5 trees. Don't make fun. I love a good tree. Silver, white, regular old green. They each serve a specific purpose and I love them all. But this year all I could muster was the big tree and the kids trees. I let them decorate their own.

I'm going to show you some of my favorite things to stare at three weeks a year.

These sweet angels. They remind me of my childhood. And they hold taper candles in their heads.

My mantle changes every year, depending on my mood. This was the quickest and easiest mantle I could pull off this year without opening another box from the attic. It's not amazing, but I don't care. Ba humbug.

And then there's this little ditty I picked up over at jane(dot)com. Have you been there? Oh you MUST. Fun deals abound. I'm only slightly embarrassed to say that I frequent this site daily. Because you have to.

And anyway, then my attitude toward Christmas started changing. I wandered into a local store we have called Two Hip Chicks and found these:

Dar.Ling. snowflakes. A pair! And I hung them in my living room windows. Then a little feeling of Christmas began to bubble up inside me.

And the snow started falling. And I grabbed the Braum's eggnog and the Captain Morgan's Spiced Rum and headed for my favorite chair by the fire.

Of course I sprinkled in a little nutmeg.

And now it's official. Bring on the Christmas season.

Route 66. In the books.

Man, I suck at blogging! I leave you hanging on a regular basis. I'm sorry. All one of you out there. You should post at the bottom so I know who you are that's reading this. Ha!

OK, I'm sort of deceiving you. I can see how many people look at my blog and what countries they are looking from. I will admit to being curious at who is reading my lowly old blog in Russia and China. Do they even speak English? I mean YOU. Do you speak English or are you here for all the crappy pictures of me in all my sweaty running glory? Oh well, either way, I'm glad you've dropped by.

So here's how my last race went down.

Me, PRE-FROZEN, SWEATY, STINKY self, secretly hoping I won't die or go to the hospital the next day.

Tulsa, Oklahoma. November 24, 2013. The forecasters are predicting a winter storm. Ice! Snow! Stay at home! And for Pete's sake, don't be out running! So what did this girl do? I put my big girl panties on, laced up my shoes, and hit the freezing road, hoping I wouldn't get stuck in Tulsa for 2 days sitting in a hotel room.

The morning of the race, I wore 2 pairs of pants, a long sleeve dri fit shirt, short sleeve dri fit, and a dri fit hoodie. I had on an ear band and a warm hat. I wore a scarf. And of course, my shoes (one pair of socks. btw.).

Here we are: me, Shawn, and Terri getting ready to freeze our butts off. We have no idea how cold it will turn out to be. I call it Blissfully Ignorant.

We lined up in our corrals and that's when it hit me. I HAVE TO PEE!! So I did what I had to do. I jumped out of the moving chaos and ran for a porta potty. THANK YOU JESUS that I did. On a side note: ironically, I didn't pee again until 2 pm that day. Can you say dehydrated?

Then I hit the open road. I paced myself pretty well in the beginning, which says something for me. I usually begin at a 10:15 pace and peter out until I cross the finish line. But I stayed closer to 10:45 and was happy with that. The race was hilly, but nothing compared to that 10 mile training run I had recently done.

Have I mentioned how cold it was when the race began? Around 28 degrees. Holy crap is right. It was insanely cold, but I actually warmed up pretty easily within about 2 miles. I shed the cute leopard scarf about 2.5 miles in and was even removing my gloves sporadically because of how warm I was.

But then something happened. We got onto Riverside and started passing runners coming from the other way. Uh-oh. How far ahead of me are they?! When suddenly, we duck into a neighborhood. This "quick neighborhood jaunt" took us 2 miles off the path and back onto Riverside, facing the opposite direction. OK, now I'm at mile 9. But something happened. The temperature dropped significantly as I made my way back onto Riverside. Like now we're at 18 degrees? And then my legs began to freeze up.

I started feeling pains in my legs, feet, back, and anywhere else pain can be found. My left thigh started cramping. And let me tell you, that's a special kind of pain. So from there on out, I created a new mantra: FINISH. I don't care if I cross that line on my hands and knees. I WILL FINISH.

This is the 100 yard or so stretch where we ACTUALLY run on Route 66. Don't blink. You'll miss it.

That's about how I felt by the time I got my medal. Beat up, worn out, frozen, and cramped. I couldn't even run downhill by the end. I was only able to run on flat surfaces.

And that, my dear reader, is when the real cold began. It was obviously located in my extremities at that point, as it had been since practically the beginning. But when I began shivering from the inside out, I knew this was bad. And the two bus rides to take me to my hotel were not helpful in the warming matter. I was thanking God for my friend Terri because I was huddled next to her on that bus, snuggling up for some warmth. Literally. You've gotta love a friend you can snuggle up to when you stink.

So that's it! I went. I saw. I laced up. I conquered. And I've got the wrongly dated medal to prove it.

reflections from a wannabe Kenyan

As I near my race date (6 days, people), I find myself pondering.

Why do I run? Am I crazy?

And I find that the answer is... Kind of. I'm only half crazy for now. And yet, I'm still hitting the pavement 4 days a week.

A year ago, I was done. I had hit the wall. I was literally burned out on running. And here I sit, a year later, fully excited for my coming race. I'm nervous, excited, and panicked. Can I really run 13 miles?! Of course I can. I've done it before. I'm fully trained. I can do this. But each time, I wonder at my own ability.

If you had asked me a decade ago, when I turned 30 if I'd be running half marathons when I turned 40, I would have laughed at you! And yet, today, I find that laughter is the best medicine.

I've had this theory for some time now: When running still brings you joy, you keep running. When you've lost the fun, you'll quit. So I give you this photo. My gift to you, dear reader. If you can't laugh like this on a race, no matter how long or short, you may have lost your joy. And if you've never found it, TRUST ME, it's out there. Waiting for you on the road to no where.

Lace up, my friend.

he won at losing.

I'm about to toot a shameless horn about my son. So if you're annoyed by proud parents, now's your time to check out. It's okay, I won't be offended.

Yesterday my son finished his first tackle football season. If you don't know much about my last born, he is our athlete. He loves any game that involves a ball and competition. He gets that from The Man. Remember, I'm not competitive (see last blog post).

This game was not only the last game, it was THE BIG GAME. They were one of two teams left, playing for the city title as champs. The only problem with this game was that many of the players on the opposing team were some of his favorite friends. See, G plays competitive baseball and basketball with a team of boys chosen from different schools. And consequently, several of these boys are on the football team we were playing.

I learned a valuable life lesson from my ten year old son yesterday.

G plays both offense and defense on his team. He can throw a ball like a rock star. Seriously, it sails through the air to ridiculous lengths with a beautiful and tight spiral. He can also run fast. He makes some great plays, with the help of his teammates.

But yesterday, the odds were not ever in their favor (a little reference to The Hunger Games if you're wondering). They lost the game. They were shut down.

And do you know how my son reacted? He ran over to his buddies on the opposing team and he smiled with them and laughed with them. He took pictures with them. He told them, "Good Game!!"

He was the picture of good sportsmanship.

It hasn't always been this way. He has had plenty a loss with tears. But yesterday he told me, "Mom, I was sad at first when we lost. But then Ethan made me laugh, and I realized that I wasn't that upset! I mean, we got beat by a GREAT TEAM! It's not like we lost to a bad team! Plus, they're all my friends! I'm happy for them!"

I could not be more proud. Thank you God, that we're doing something right.

This "number 1" and "number 2" thing was his idea, by the way. That's a humble heart, friends. A heart I love.