Repurposed Shower Caddy

When back to school sales rolled around, I picked up a few of these shower caddies for other useful reasons. They are super inexpensive at Walmart. 

For in the house or in the car, I've put my son's spare clothes into. 

Art Supplies/books-- super handy for in the house or the car. When it's in the car, I place the caddy in between my kids' booster seats and buckle it through the handle with the middle belt buckle.

Bathroom caddy- I have this up on a shelf when not in use and bring it down just for bath time. 

(Not pictured)

- Cleaning supplies

- crafting supplies

- diaper/Wipes for car or home

- snacks/drinks for kids

- Car organizer

Graciously Accepting Help

Yesterday, I had some grocery shopping to do. I got to witness something almost more rare than a random act of kindness. I was able to witness somebody accept the help that was offered graciously and fervently. 

I went to Winco to get some groceries. The trip went fairly well. I got to the checkout line and there was two people ahead of me. There was a woman at the front that, bless her heart, was clutching a baby (4-6mo old) to her chest with one arm and was trying to single-handed bag her groceries. It's not like she had a few groceries. No, she easily had bought over $100 worth. If you're not familiar with Winco, it's a great grocery store that has (more) affordable prices. One of those reasons is because they don't bag your groceries. The cashier will ring up your groceries and send them down the belt and you bag them. If you have a large order, they can ring up the next order and they send that one down an adjacent belt. The idea is to stagger people. Back to my story, since this woman still had to pay and the person behind her had to be rung up, I had enough time to tell my kids to sit still while I went up to the woman holding the baby and asked her if could help her bag her groceries. To my amazement, she graciously accepted my help. We made a great team. I bagged her groceries and with her free hand, she grabbed the full bags and put them into her cart. I was able to get back to my cart and unload it up on the belt in the nick of time. 

Since the purpose of the blog is to acknowledge this woman's graciousness, I also want to look at why people don't accept help.

1) They refuse to acknowledge that there is a problem

For example-- The woman in my situation above could have thought that she didn't need help. She was getting the job done. It may have just taken her awhile. The problem was that eventually, customer's behind her would eventually probably have to stack behind her and also, she really probably needed to be able to meet her baby's needs in some way that was hindered at that moment by the groceries. 

2) Pride

Sometimes people are just too darn proud to accept help. Sometimes this is enduring, and sometimes this is just frustrating for all involved. 

3) They would just rather do it themselves

There can be a certain sense of satisfaction in doing something yourself.

4) The person doesn't care/like the person offering the help

One word: Relatives. Need I say more?

5) They're not ready to receive the help

Sometimes people need to just keep beating their heads until that brick wall until they are ready for the help. 

I would just like to encourage people to not only practice random acts of kindness but also to accept the help that people offer. You may just inspire somebody around you to accept the help that they themselves need. 

Painted Nails

                     A Story

Closing my eyes, I think back to the day that preceded my wedding. The hustle and bustle of trying to make sure everything was perfect for our big day. My mom wanted her baby girl to be happy and pampered for the big day. We went to a salon and sat down next to each other. Placing my hands on the table in front of me, the Asian woman that sat across from me gently lifted my hands and soaked them in a beautiful white porcelain bowl. She cleaned my hands, massaging them with deaft grace, and finish by giving me a lovely French manicure. It was a relaxing way to be pampered- a way I relished frequently in that period of my life.

I took great care for the rest of that day to not disrupt my French manicure. My hands were to look lovely for my big day. 

The day of my wedding dawned, promising to be a brisk day. That day my soft manicured hands were placed by my daddy into the calloused hands that belong to the love of my life. That day and the next few weeks passed by in a magical yet joyful whirl. 

I was officially a married woman. My days were filled being a working wife. We wanted to save money to buy a home. 

Soon, we were surprised and blessed to find out we had a bundle of joy on her way! My days were still spent working. I still made sure I pampered myself regularly. As an expecting woman, I wanted to feel beautiful. My fingernails changed regularly depicting all the wonderful colors that surrounded us. Vibrant. Pastel. Sleek. Earthy.

Before I knew it, our precious baby arrived. My soft supple hands started the new tasks of caring for a baby. I was now a working mom. Life became busier: learning the balance of family, motherhood and work. My normally manicured hands didn't get the attention they were accustomed to. 

I started to gauge the time between mommy pampering excursions by how many chipped places were in my nails. This was when I made time to rejuvenate myself... And my hands.

My, how time has flown by! We have welcomed three more children into the world. I now stay home to take care of our family. My hands have transformed with all the work I do, with all the accomplishments I make. Where my hands were once soft and supple, they are now calloused from my chores and cracked from chemicals, numerous washings, and weather changes. I don't mind. My hands are tools to work hard for and to care for those I love. 

My third daughter came to me today and asked me to paint our nails to match. She is such a princess to the core! My heart leaped at the idea of painting my nails. I couldn't rember the last time I had done that. I had actually maybe thought about it a time or two, but always dismissed the idea. What would be the point? They just get ruined the same day. This though, there was purpose. My daughter wanted her inner princess to shine. And for the first time in a long time, I wanted my inner princess to shine. It was one small thing that would make me feel beautiful. While it lasted anyways.

My daughter and I dusted off the fingernail paint bin and picked out the most beautiful topaz. We spent fifteen minutes layering on the paint, giggling at my lack of practice. It had been so long, I was smearing the paint over my cuticles and skin that surrounded my nail. Laughing made it worse, but it was still fun. 

I had made my daughter's day by doing something simply out of the ordinary. After my nails dried, I carefully set out to do my chores. I grabbed objects with delicate grace that had not been used in years, trying to preserve my lacquered nails. 

At the end of the day, I was relieved to soak my tired body in a well deserved bath. I reached for my body wash and laughed softly when I discovered my freshly manicured hands did not survive the day. Each fingernail was abused and was missing parts of the beautiful topaz that had coated it just hours before. Each chipped nail has a story of an unselfish act of love and charity. 

I know that I will put it on my to do list to get fingernail polish remover and remove the remainder of the color. Or I might let it continue to chip, one loving gesture at a time, serving as a reminder for me that it only takes a few moments of my time to make my child's day. 

Family Perception

Today I met up with my sister. She has baby number two on the way. We went to a fast food joint to have some lunch. We were quite surprised when we ran into one of our parent's friend, Rick.

I introduced him to Aviana and Rowen and explained that my two older kids were in school. In that instance, it seems time slows down and I can visualize every thought and facial expression that passes his face:

"That's a lot of kids"

"Why so many!?"

"I could never of had that many kids"

"I'm glad I don't have that many grand kids"

Time catches up and he states, "well, your parents sure won the most grand kids contest!"

I just think the perception of my family is hilarious. For example, when I'm out shopping while the older two kids are at school, I have Aviana and Rowen with me. People have stopped me and said, "You have the most perfect family! One boy and one girl!" I reply, "It's even more perfect because they have two big sisters in school." People's expressions go from content to bewilderment to pity in a heartbeat. Suddenly, it seems I sprout horns and they quickly exclaim, "Well, you are a busy lady!" Or "You must've kept going until you got that boy!" Then they rush away feeling sorry for me. 

I come from a family of just my sister and I. My husband was the third (surprise!) child. However, my husband's dad is the oldest out of ten. My mother in law has a sister that had ten children. Our 4 seems comfortable. Not too many at all. However, the way people perceive us is as if we had 20! 

We are so glad we had 4. Not so we could have a boy, but because we felt like that was God's path. Our van is full and so is our hearts. 

I've had it... FTM

So I'm putting it out there that sometimes I'm a bit ignorant of text slang because we don't text much and refuse to pay for it. 

Just a forewarning, I'm not singling any of my friends out, I've just seen this tons and it made me think. Yes, this is a pretty unimportant post, but it was on my mind.  Anyhow, read on...

I've seen a lot of FML on Facebook. I had a good idea what it meant, mostly by context. So tonight I researched it and confirmed it means FUCK MY LIFE. I find that so historical because most of the people that use it have pretty good lives and would probably agree. 

Tonight I got in a disagreement with my husband and "FML" flashed through my mind. Really though, that wasn't appropriate for the situation. I love my husband and I would not trade shoes with anybody. So I was thinking, there has got to be a better abbreviation for things like that. So, how bout we switch to:

 FTM (FUCK THIS MOMENT) 

HTM (HATE THIS MOMENT)

ICS... (I COULD STRANGLE...)

Doesn't that just sound so much better? Just think about how much more positive we could all sound by telling the world we don't hate our life, just the moment are in. 

Happy texting!

I Work Hard, Where's the Body You Promised?

When I originally started this blog, I wanted to be real. Write about real issues that women face. For the most part, I haven't. I've been too scared about what my close friends and family would say. However, I think this message needs to be read and I am willing to bare it all to get this message out there.

A few days ago, a fitness photo went viral of a smoking hot mama (probably weighing 90 pounds) kneeling behind her three young kids. I thought it was great and inspirational until I read the message: "What's your excuse?" This for me was the straw that broke the camel's back. Every time I scroll down my news feed, there is these weight loss ads that depict fit sexy, skinny women. All of these ads (and a lot of other "inspirational" stuff floating around out there) are telling me that if I work hard enough, I can have that lean, sexy, skinny body. 

And I want that so bad.

Like a lot of women, my body is my biggest insecurity. Just a quick note: this has nothing to do whether I'm glad I used my body to have kids or not. I would never trade a great body for my kids. This is about me disliking the way my body looks. I like my legs and arms for the most part. My biggest areas of contempt are breasts that are disproportionate to my stomach size. Shirts fit terribly. My upper body frame is a size small and my stomach is a size medium. Also, pants don't fit that well. I should wear a size 6 but it's too tight around my tummy (but fits my waist) or it gives me the dreaded muffin top look. So, where I'm at is a size 8 and they are constantly falling down because they are too big. 

I've worked hard for that size. Guess what? I don't look a thing like those women in the ads and no, there's no medical reasons preventing from my stomach shrinking more. The number on the scale shows I've done amazing things in the last few years. So let's talk about how I've gotten to this point and the "excuses" that I face. 

If you haven't read my blog before, let me give you a rundown of what my life has looked like in the past 8 years so we can get a good handle on my situation and what lead to this blog.

I'm 28 years old, 5' 7", a wife, a stay at home mother of 4 children (ages 8-3), a non-certified personal trainer, a great cook, and a runner. These are some of the most most important things that describe me. My daily life is filled with buckets after buckets of laundry, sink full after sink full of dishes, dirty toilets, baths, vacuuming, food prepping and storage for future use, cooking the daily meals, getting 2 kids to and from school, running after and taking care of 2 kids at home, naps, toddler school time, training my student, working out, and when all is said and done-- more laundry with a side of laundry…. Yes, my days are packed and I normally can't wait to just collapse at the end of my days. 

I had my oldest daughter in 2005 and seemed to have a normal pregnancy and delivery. After she was born, I had pelvic problems that were finally diagnosed after my second daughter was born in 2007. I have a separated pubis symphasis. If you would like to read more on this daily struggle that I live with, read this: http://marekmama.blogspot.com/2012/09/how-i-live-with-separated-pubis.html . In short, my pelvic bone hurts a lot. All the time. Fast forward to surviving through 2 more planned pregnancies. After all pregnancies were said and done, I walked out of the hospital after my last child was born  in 2010 weighing 200 pounds. After I was done breastfeeding (I had milk issues that I didn't want to complicate further by working out), I decided to lose all the weight. I lost all the weight at home doing DVDs, running outside or on the treadmill, and doing weights. Mind you, I did all of this with a really bad pelvis. I used lots of Tylenol and Ibuprofen in this time span to accomplish these goals. That year, I also had two steroid shots injected into my pelvis to help manage pain. By 2012, I got down to 150 pounds. I thought this was a really good weight. I was still really unhappy with my body shape. I tried not to focus on it because I was eating 1200-1600 calories and I worked out a lot. In 2012 I ran 2 half marathons and ran several shorter distance races. I trained like a beast. However, during last year (2012), I ended up having 4 major surgeries (partial hysterectomy, bladder repair, hernia repair, removed gallbladder) in one shot, eight weeks before the Portland Half Marathon. After 6 weeks of intensive recovery, I got the clearance to run again. I had two weeks of training under my belt and completed the Portland Half Marathon in 2 hours 8 minutes. Not shabby for all the obstacles I had faced that year. 

So, that brings us to this year. I've also done a lot of training this year. I wanted to do even better than I did last year. So far, my app on my iPhone shows that I've ran 554.52 miles burning a total of 65, 970 calories (as of mid October 2013). Just keep in mind, this does not include all my unrecorded runs and also does not include all of my strength/cardio training I do. I ran several shorter distance races and completed 4 half marathons this year. My big struggles this year has been two kidney infections. One right before the spring races and one recently right before the fall races. Those were huge set backs. I'm still in the process of figuring out why I'm getting them.  I was pleased that I got down to 140 pounds by still keeping my diet under check. Now, I'm not saying I don't splurge on the food because I do. 

I'm actually a food addict. I struggle with the food a little. I do well when I am in my own home. In fact, I cook wonderful food which can be seen in some of the recipes I've blogged. My problem is when I'm not home. I have the idea that if I'm going to break my routine, I might as well do it big and be satisfied in my choice. This doesn't happen that often because I'm a stay at home mom. I stay at home a lot so don't think I'm out stuffing my face because I have my food addiction well in hand. 

By this point, I hope I'm painting a picture of a busy stay at home mom that even though has a million reasons- not excuses- that the time being spent on myself to maintain my body could be better spent doing things for my family. I also have plenty of medical reasons that would excuse me from putting in the work. 

So, are you ready for the kicker?

After putting in the sweat and tears to get to the "lean" healthy 140 pounds, I dislike my body. I have a muffin top that will not go away. I've got amazing rock hard abs under that flab. When I was at 150 pounds and thought, if I can lose some more, the flab will dissipate. It didn't. My boobs shrank more, but that belly skin has gone nowhere. No matter how little I eat, no matter how much I work out- it's going nowhere. The only thing that's going to make that go away is a knife or some serious photo shop work. 

No Photo editing in this photo!

By now you may be thinking, "If she does all that work and she looks like that, how come she isn't happy?" Well, remember all those photos and inspirational messages that tell me that if I put the excuses behind me and work hard, I can be lean and sexy? I did the work- how come I didn't receive the damn product?!? 

I'm done with all of those messages. Here's a message that should be shared louder: A healthy BMI, hard work and personal goals is healthy. That is what you should try to obtain. That is the message that should be spread. 

Epic Cooking day = Epic Mess

Today was one of those epic cooking days. As I'm sitting here tonight, I can't help but be a bit disappointed. In all my success today was a lot of failure too. Don't worry, I'm not down on myself, I just wish there was another Mandy to help. "Hey! Quit dawdling and pick up all that junk on the floor. Then go rotate everybody's summer/winter clothes! Then when you're done with that, the toilet is STILL smelling pretty funky."

This morning I decided I was going to get shit done! By that, I mean I was going to get a lot of the cooking done I've had on my to-do list. Don't get me wrong, I've done a lot of cooking lately. A lot of preserving. I've made 4 batches of homemade spaghetti sauce so far this fall among other things. 

Yesterday, I went out and bought 10 pounds of bananas. Sounds like my family's going to be backed up for a while, right? Nah, my husband offered for payment to my kids' Taekwondo teacher (his Krav Maga instructor) my awesome cooking skills as payment for the classes. So, not only is my family flying through my awesome banana bread, so is the teacher. 

While I am thrilled (in most moments) we can have an awesome exchange, I cursed all day that I only have 2 bread loaf pans. My oven could fit four, but unfortunately I only have two.  We're not spending any extra money right now, which means I have to do things the hard way sometimes. So that means I am left with making a batch, waiting an hour, wash all baking/mixing bowls, and then doing it again. And then again. And then again. I washed that stupid mixing bowl 6 times today. Along with all the other stuff. 

Victory at the end! I get it all done, make a killer dinner from scratch, complete with my homemade sweet dinner rolls and I see that clean mixing bowl staring at me. 

I swear it spoke to me, "You know, Mandy, you bought that pasta roller from the thrift store over there. Then you bought the semolina flour. You have time. Make some pasta. If you make enough, you can even try it with the dinner you're waiting on tonight. C'mon you know you want to get it done. You could cross off one more thing on your to-do list." 

So I whip it out. And wouldn't you know that was the moment when all the kids had to descend on me and bug the crap out of me? I call my person a two-butt kitchen. That's because only two butts fit! And I had my big butt and four little ones in there! 

We got a good start to it and I got quite a bit of pasta in the dehydrator.   I'm very excited to pair it with my homemade Alfredo sauce. Yum!

At this point your probably wondering why I still see any disappointment in my day. Well, I see tons of failures. My kitchen is a disaster, even though the dishwasher is ready to be unloaded in the morning. I failed in folding the 4 loads of clean laundry sitting downstairs. I failed to get the rest of the laundry downstairs, sorted, and started on. I failed in even remotely keeping up on the rest of the house today. All the kids seem to do an amazing job of just moving crap from a random spot in the house to another random spot. Today was no exception. My kids were also lovely enough to add any leftover food onto the floor they deemed not good enough to make it into their mouth . 

I would feel great about all the things I achieved today if not for all the things that keep piling up on top of the already-there messes.

Oh, by the way, did I mention I also made a batch of crockpot applesauce today???

My messy kitchen that will be the first thing I tackle in the morning. You can bet my family is eating cereal tomorrow!