Pull ups no more!

Lane has been potty trained since he was three. Surprisingly, it was pretty easy. A weekend at home filled with water, a potty and momma's constant eye resulted in making the magic happen in the pot! It was great! NO MORE DIAPERS! Fast forward 2 years to present day life. Lane is still doing phenomenal with daytime pottying. Night time...well, that is a WHOLE other can of worms. The child sleeps harder than most grown men and is a character out of a zombie movie if woken up at night to pee! Thus, we have had nights accompanied by pull ups. Lane despises the pull ups, something I can't blame him for, but consistently still wets his bed at night. I had spoken to his doc and he said that every child is different and that boys have a harder time with it than girls. I also learned that it is hereditary! After hearing that bit of news, I was happy to find out that he did NOT get the wetting gene from me! WHEW! However, we are still left with the sleepy time troubles.

Last week, Dave graciously offered to wake Lane up twice a night in order to make him go potty. The first time was around 10:30ish. That was a no go. The second time was midnight and again, the pipes were dry. We were in the clear! Or so we thought. Monday morning consisted of wet pants and new sheets. Monday thru Thursday, Dave got him up at 12 and 3. This seemed to work great! Lane was dry every morning! Dave, however, was realizing that getting up twice a night wears on him a bit! Saturday night we decided to let Lane try to get up on his own accord. With both of us sleeping soundly, neither of us heard if he had gotten up throughout the night or not, though I suspected the answer was no, the child just will NOT wake up!

On to plan B. Yesterday we got Lane an alarm clock and set it for 3AM. He was super excited to use it and PROMISED to go potty when it went off. Around 3:30 Dave went in to check and Lane said he did get up. BUT, he was already wet from a previous time :( BUMMER! Another morning of new undies and a change of sheets. This morning Dave and I decided to rotate nights and get Lane up at midnight and allow his alarm to wake him at 3. Lets PRAY this will work. The poor kiddo hates his pull ups and would really hate to have to go back to them

Has anyone had any kind of potty training struggles?? What worked for you? What didn't?

Little girl, Big dreams

As long as I can remember, I have LOVED writing. I love reading the written word as well as writing it. As a child, I was constantly writing little letters and notes to anyone who would read them. At one time, I even replicated text from my favorite book onto writing paper, making sure the words and penmanship were perfect. After completing my masterpiece, I ran to my Dad where I was sure to receive rousing approval for my efforts. Little did I know, it was then that I received my first lesson in plagiarism! :( Though discouraged, my love of writing was far from deterred. If anything, it has grown into one of my main passions, but something that until recently, has taken a backseat to this thing we call life.

This blog is the first step in keeping myself accountable in my writing. It is helping me further develop my craft and will hopefully help me gain the confidence to move into the big scary world of PUBLISHING. That's right kids, I want to be an AUTHOR. (Stating that sentence just put me in emotional overload for the week!) Seeing my name as the author of a piece of work is something I have always wanted, but have been far too scared to try. I can't quite pinpoint why I have had this fear, but a big part of it is the fear of rejection. There are people out there that could tell me that my work blows and to keep my day job. I am trying to learn how to get the thick skin needed to face the criticism, all while keeping faith in myself and my dream.

My dream as an author is to write children's books. I recall telling my mom one day that I wanted to be on the Today Show, sitting next to Matt Lauer, telling him about my book. (I am well aware of how far fetched this dream really is, but hey, you gotta aim high, right?!) I have several concepts and drafts that I have compiled and am now at the point where I need to put the pedal to the metal and make it happen. That though is both terrifying and exhilarating all at once. Like I stated before, I am terrified at the idea of naysayers, yet ecstatic that I have gotten to the point where I am comfortable enough to discuss the idea of actual making this happen.

2011 is the year for new things and old dreams coming true!

Why weight...change is NOW

It has been 3 months since the marathon and I have recently gotten back into some type of workout routine. I try to go to the gym or do a workout DVD at least 3 days a week. Sadly though, working out with Jillian Michaels isn't too exciting. I look at her and the skinny bimbos working along side her and secretly hate them for their effortlessness. Really Jillian, do you think a NORMAL individual is meant to kick that high or squat that low? Not this girl! My clumsy ass is about to fall over when asked to put all my weight on one leg and kick the other to the side. Then, while at the gym I am so self conscious of the meat heads around me that I spend most of my time making sure my fat isn't rolling out over my pants! It is so ungodly frustrating, this whole working out thing. I try and I try and I try to get lean and toned, but this body of mine feels otherwise. This result adds to the feeling of discouragement. I put this work in, try to eat healthy and live a healthy lifestyle. Yet, things aren't panning out how I want them to! It is so incredibly discouraging to look at a commercial, magazine or newspaper and see Miss Perfect staring back at me! I know that I shouldn't let the media play into my view of my body. But anyone who says they don't, at least to some degree, is lying. We have this view of perfection and everyone, in some way shape or form, tries their best to attain it.

Maybe I am at the more critical end of that spectrum. I know that I drive Dave CRAZY with my constant self loathing. I need to be happy with what I've got. This is something that I am struggling with, yet really trying to learn to do. I am trying not to point out every imperfection and actually try to embrace them. Yet, I find myself constantly comparing myself to the lady shopping next to me, the girl at church, etc. If I look at a picture of myself, my eyes automatically target the bad parts, paying no attention to the things about myself that I am ok with. Why can't I get past this?

Dave and I love cooking and we love to eat. We try to cook as healthy as possible, yet I find myself at the same number on the scale. I make sure I eat breakfast every morning, followed by a snack at 10:00, lunch, a snack at 3:00, then dinner. In general, I try to be done with dinner by 7:00 and cut myself off for the rest of the night.

Not sure where to go from here, but I am thinking that I simply need to kick it up a notch. Make myself even more accountable for the things that I do. Bump up my workouts and the number of days. It's either time to zip my lip and be happy with what I've got or put on my big girl undies and make a change.

I just felt like runnin'...Part II

...A week before the race I completed my 20 mile run, followed by a week of tapering in order to prepare my body for the race. It seemed like the week played out in slow motion, leaving me restless for the day to actually arrive. Dave and I left on Sunday for the 5 hr drive to Chicago. I think we were both a little nervous as there wasn't much conversation. Once there, we headed straight to the event center where we were to pick up our packets with our bib # and shoe attachment. Being from small town Iowa, it was a shock to the system to see that many people in one place. My anxiety grew by the minute and I started to sweat. It was then that I began to realize the goal I was going to attempt in less than 24 hrs. There were over 49,0000 registered participants with my # being 45549.

After getting our packets and checking out the health expo, we headed to our hotel. The 2 mile drive took literally 45 minutes! Walkers got to their destinations before we moved 10 ft! The entire city was a zoo. Everywhere you turned there was a runner. It left me feeling quite overwhelmed. I again began to doubt myself and fear that this task was too big for me to take on. Running by myself on the trail was a hell of a lot different than running with 49,000+ people! Who was I to think that I was capable enough, trained enough to attempt something of this caliber? My mind was like a marquee sign, constantly replaying the doubts inside my head. I was terrified out of my mind!

Next stop was dinner, where we had to make sure we had some good carbs to boost our body. This was the highlight to my day! me+carbs= happy Sarah! :) Dave and I found a great Italian restaurant for spaghetti and meatballs. YUM! We allowed ourselves a glass of wine to relax, which actually helped. So, me+carbs+wine= happy, relaxed Sarah. Where was that wine at midnight as I lay awake in bed freaking out?! Before I knew it 5am arrived and it was time game time. Shirt-check, shorts-check, sports bra x2-check, socks-check, shoes-check, watch-check, mind...check??

The walk to the starting line felt like I was walking to my death. Were spaghetti and meatballs really going to be my last meal?? The morning was perfect with a slight breeze and cool temperatures. Perfect running conditions. Maybe it wouldn't be AS bad as I thought after all. Start time was 7:30, which left me with some time to mentally prepare. Dave has super running speed so he was up close to the front and I was back with the "normal" people waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Minute by minute more and more people showed up. Before I knew it, we were packed in like sardines. Elbow to elbow, hugely invading personal spaces! It was the most surreal feeling to be standing there with that group of people, all with the same goal in mind. To run 26.2 miles in 6 hrs or less. Surprisingly while the National Anthem was sang, I was calm and focused. More focused than I have ever been before. I thought to myself... 26.2 miles. 6 miles an hour. 10 minutes a mile. I can do this. Stay on track. Keep breathing under control. Don't trip. Don't trip. DO NOT TRIP!

Once the race officially started, it was still several minutes before our section got to the actual start. As we slowly crept forward, "Right Now" by Van Halen blared from the speakers. My body was instantly filled with goosebumps and adrenaline. It was GAME TIME!!! LETS DO THIS! Wholly CRAP, I was running a marathon!

The first 13 miles went by relatively quickly. I was staying right on course for my 10 minute mile and my legs felt great. The crowd was AMAZING and gave off so much energy! (there were over 2 million spectators!) Everyone was screaming, clapping and holding signs of support. It was such an incredible feeling to see so many people there to support and encourage us.

Mile 14 and 15 were a bit harder as the route began to turn and head back the way we came. Sounds simple, right? Well, unfortunately by that time the sun was high and HOT! AND there were no trees for shade. It was then that my optimism began to waiver. I was hot, very hot and my legs were wearing out, fast! At mile 16, I still had 10 miles to go and my pace had slowed dramatically, this made me wonder if I was ever going to finish. Each mile seemed to take an eternity! I ended up missing a mile marker and at one point and thought I was coming up to mile 21. I then saw mile 20, I was devastated! It was such a mental kick in the gut to know that I was a mile behind where I thought I should be. At this point I was unable to focus on the crowd for energy. I was angry, sad and feeling extremely defeated. I had this goal, this ending that I wanted to see and it was as if it was something that I was not meant to reach.

VERY slowly, I somehow continued on. I think at that point I was so livid at the damn race that I wasn't going to let it win. I was crossing that finish line even if that meant crawling, rolling, or any other way to get my fanny across that line. Mile 24, 25, 26. WHOOHOO, I am getting there! THEN, the damned .2 part of the journey. That by far was the most challenging part. The end was in sight yet my legs felt that they couldn't go any further. They were pleading with me to stop. My knees were throbbing and my feet were on fire. How on earth would I get there? Fortunately, the crowd again swelled to giant numbers and you could see the enjoyment on their faces to see us complete. Somehow, from a place that I still haven't found, I was able to pick up my pace and actually sprint, yes SPRINT up the last hill and to the finish line.

I would love to say that I had a moment of splendor as I crossed the red line. All I can remember is the fact that I could FINALLY stop running! I was done. I did it. It was over. Now what?? I was in a daze, almost shock at what had taken 5:07:03 to complete. What do I do now? Where do I go? People were asking me so many questions that I don't remember answering. All I wanted to do was find Dave. How was I to find him in ALL of these people? Do I stand there and wait? Do I keep walking? When I finally saw him all I could do was collapse into his chest with relief. It was over. I had just ran and completed the 2010 Chicago Marathon.

I just felt like runnin'... Part I

Last March I got a wild hair and decided to train for a marathon.  Why you ask?  I'm still not quite sure what drove me to this insanity. I had just completed a 13 week boot camp like program at the gym and was in the best shape of my life.  So I thought then was as good of  time as any.  Fortunately for me, I had a coworker, Dave, who ran marathons. I found myself picking his brain for information as to how to prepare and run the daunting 26.2 miles. Keep in mind that before this, I had only ran maybe a mile, tops!  He was nice enough to get me pointed in the right direction. He got me set up with a 16 week training program. All that was left for me to do was to commit to a race.  Easier said than done!  The thought of actually putting money down meant I was REALLY committed. This wasn't chump change I would be spending, it was $145! In the end, I decided to put my money where my mouth was and sign up for the Chicago Marathon, which was 10/10/10.  That left me with 7 months to prepare. YIKES!  Luckily for me, Dave came to my rescue and helped me begin. Our first run together was my longest....ever. 5 miles.  Surprisingly, it wasn't as bad as I had anticipated. I had to stop a few times to breathe, but found the run more enjoyable than I had imagined.  And so began the making of a marathoner.

Training officially didn't begin until June, which left some time to get my base built up. By the time it started, I could easily do a 6 mile run without  problems. Who would have thought that I, a girl who only ran to my car when it was cold or raining outside, could run 6 miles!? I was beyond excited! Training progressed and before I knew it, my Saturday mornings were filled with 8+ mile runs, working my way up to the big 20 miler a week before the event. Even with my mileage slowly creeping higher each week, I never let myself think of the idea that I would actually run 26.2 miles after all was said and done.

After weeks of running, I could feel myself getting stronger, and possibly a little faster. I found myself yearning to run.  It is amazing the conversations that a person has with themselves as they are trying to distract themselves when they have a 14 mile run to do at 7am.  I found myself singing songs that my 5 yr old had learned in Kindergarten, making grocery lists, etc... I did a lot of thinking about my life. The good, the bad and all the stuff in between. Before I knew it, I was running to Hudson and back. It was something that months ago I couldn't fathom. I ran to another town! Who does that??

Though the majority of the training was okay for me, it was also filled with many struggles. The mental toughness that a person training for a marathon has to build up is insane. There were days where my mind and legs would not match up and a 6 mile run seemed excruciating. On those days, I would automatically start doubting my capabilities and wonder if completing the training, let alone the marathon, was something I could do. I just wanted to say SCREW THIS to it all. I wanted my life back, my Saturday mornings with Lane. But then, after a shower and time to cool down, I would always go back to the idea that I WAS succeeding in my training. Not every day is going to be a good day. Though that statement sounds simple, for a person like me, who always strives to be the best at what I do, it was hard to swallow.

A second struggle that I was faced with was fatigue. After weeks upon weeks of training, my body was telling me that it was tired. Every inch of me was tired. I recall one Saturday morning when it was cold and raining outside. I actually cried during my drive to the trail because I was dreading the next 3 hours. But, like always, once I got out there, I became lost in the run. Before I knew it 18 miles was done.

During the middle of my training I started to have pain in my right knee. It started out with numbness and throbbing. However, the more I ran, the more it hurt. So, 3 weeks before my race, I made a trip to the doctor to make sure everything was ok. His diagnosis, tendinitis. My first question was, can I run? He said I wasn't doing any permanent damage to my knee but the only way for it to go away was to stop running. REALLY?!?! I was 3 weeks from race day, there was no way that I could stop now! So, I drugged myself up on ibuprofen before each run and ran my final 20 miles pain free.

Next came days of tapering in order to prepare for race day. Stay tuned for my first marathon experience!

Getting the Stink Out

Lane has been home for a few days now, and with that comes many struggles. I always refer to his readjustment time as "getting the stink out". It is the time where he has to learn to get back into his normal routine. Something he tends to greatly dislike. Asking him to do normal, everyday tasks begin the battle of World War III. It is so frustrating and beyond draining for me. All I want to do is spend time with him, reconnecting after his time away. However, the majority of the time is spent redirecting his behavior and reminding him of OUR house rules and expectations.

This weekend I made him a behavior chart to try to curb his bad behaviors and reward the good ones. Each day broken into 4 sections.

- Breakfast/Getting dressed
- Pick up Toys
- Dinner/Bath
- Jammies/Bedtime
Each section has the capability for him to get stickers added to the chart. If he gets at least 4 stickers each day he will earn a reward at the end of the week. Seems simple right? Lets hope it works.

In general, he usually does quite well. But, then something just switches in his brain and it is like another child appears. He has gone back to the growling, yelling, kicking and scowling. All of the things that we were working on before he left for his week with Dad. It is so hard dealing with the differences between our two households. When he is with Daddy, life is fun and games. Then, when back with Mom, normal life ensues. It is hard always having to be the bad guy, the parent who has to enforce the rules and dish out discipline. Trying to talk to his Dad about these issues is like trying to talk to someone who is both blind and deaf.

I am lucky to have Dave to help me when my frustrations overflow. He knows the obstacles that I have been facing with Lane, and hasn't backed down in his quest to help both him and me. We go back to the play therapist on Wednesday. Hopefully we can continue to get the bumps worked out.

Home at Last

Lane is home! It is as if the clouds have parted and the angels are singing! I was so excited that I grew teary-eyed as I gave him his hello hug. It seems that as he gets older, it grows harder for me to be away from him. He is growing fast enough as it is and with him being gone, it seems like I miss so much more. All I want to do is hold him, I want to cuddle him and just be together. However, he has very different plans in mind. It seemed like his first sentence after arriving was, "Where is my DS?" All of our subsequent conversations have been of him displaying his disappointment in knowing that his beloved game won't be back from the repair man for at least another few days.

But let me tell you, there is absolutely no better feeling than having him yell out "Mom, I love you" just because he feels like saying it. It felt like this week away from him would never come to an end. I have felt like a piece of who I am has been missing, but am now whole. Our family is once again complete!