Still kicking

I'm still here.  Still doing my thing.  Still thinking of all the things I don't get done each day.  I hope that means I'm too busy enjoying Hub and the kids.

I think it does.  I'll get back to documenting soon.  I promise.  Maybe, wink, wink.

My Soccer Girl

We have a five-almost-six year old soccer player in the house.

She's darling!

Hub took her to her first practice and game last night and I met them at the field after work.

She was in her HOT pink socks, pulled aaall the way up (Hub tried to talk her into folding them down but she said Momma said to pull them up high.  Did not.)  Hot pink shorts and a hot pink t-shirt.  None of them matched exactly, but it was good enough for her, which was good enough for us.

Especially since the jersey they gave her is orange and is long enough to be a dress.

Hub said she was SO excited to go and then SO shy once she got there.

Bless her coach's hearts.

I thought she would be the only girl on the team, but another girl came so that makes two.  Phew.

He said when they started the game she just stood there.  Still.  As in not moving.  And watched the other kids run around her.

Then she took a step and started running after the pack of kids.

When I got there she was running around all over the place trying to keep up.  I think she even kicked the ball a few times.

GO LU!

She also can't run without throwing a skip in there every once in a while.

It's pretty awesome. She had fun and can't wait to do it again. She also went home and put her shin guards and cleats away so she would know where they are.

After all her years of supporting her brothers, I think she felt pretty good to have us all there cheering her on.

How fun is that?!

Pieces of Me - Part One

Here's a few facts about me.

I'm an only child or the oldest of 3 depending on which parent we're referring to.

I'm white, painfully so sometimes - I could really use some sunshine if you know what I mean.

I've been afraid of obesity for my whole life.

I'm considered obese, but not morbidly.

My mother's mother didn't like fat people. She would make snarky, disdainful comments about a person's weight. She liked them if they were thin. She did not if they were fat.  I've always wondered what made her that way.

My cousins used to call me 'Watermelon Belly.'

I did church service for 18 months when I was 21 years old, which is a whole other story, and I gained a lot of weight. The people there said that was a good thing.

I learned being fat or thin doesn't change who you are on the inside unless you let it.

I came home and lost it all and then some.

I was thin when I got married. That was 60 pounds ago.

That sounds pretty depressing, but I have to face my reality.

Start Somewhere - Keep Moving

That's probably one of the most significant phrases I've heard lately and it's kinda become my mantra this year.

Fair warning: I'm going to start dishing a little.

I know I have a list of weaknesses a mile and a half long.  And a list of excuses that long and double but it has to stop.

I have to change.

I want to change.

I'm going to change.

I could write a book about all the reasons why I'm fat.  I come from fat people.  (I really do.  It's sad.)

But this is my life and my story and I'm going to change the ending.

I Want To Live

No one says it quite like Marjorie Pay Hinckley:

“I don't want to drive up to the pearly gates in a shiny sports car, wearing beautifully, tailored clothes, my hair expertly coiffed, and with long, perfectly manicured fingernails. I want to drive up in a station wagon that has mud on the wheels from taking kids to scout camp. I want to be there with a smudge of peanut butter on my shirt from making sandwiches for a sick neighbors children. I want to be there with a little dirt under my fingernails from helping to weed someone's garden. I want to be there with children's sticky kisses on my cheeks and the tears of a friend on my shoulder. I want the Lord to know I was really here and that I really lived.”

I want to live.

Losing Weight

So..

I need to lose weight.

Desperately.

Badly.

For so many reasons.

Maybe if I write it down here that will help me be accountable.

I have to do this.

Looking Ahead...Letters To My Children

I saw something this morning that I instantly knew I had to do.

I made my kids their own email accounts.

They know nothing about this.

That is perfect.

I thought this was awesome for so many reasons.

Now they have a cool email they can inherit when the time is right. It's not going to have to be 45 digits long and lame because all of the good names are already used up.

Also, I can email them things now, that they can read later.  Later being whenever I decide to give them access to their account.

I can email them words of wisdom from me because I am so wise and I have life all figured out.

Did you catch that bit of lunacy?  I'm laughing so hard at that one I think I just snorted.

I can email them stories about themselves that are funny, exciting, or that make me cry.  Because I do that.

I can email them simple reminders that I am their mother and I love them.

I really hope this counts as family history, because I am failing miserably at that and I really feel like I shouldn't be.

Looking ahead...