Caved In...Not

Shame and mortification abound.  I guess by "caving in" I must mean "feeling guilty every day I don't do a workout because I said I was going to."  Honestly, I do dislike it that much. Plus, if I spend my time and energy on that, then I don't get to run.  And running is hard enough during Track season.

I also have to admit that I was going to start in the Fall, then I knew I wouldn't be able to maintain through the scheduled surgery in December, so I postponed to Winter.  Then I waited through recovery, focusing on my running, and then all of the sudden it's Spring and I still am not there.  The issue at hand must be scheduling.  So, I refine my resolution.  I resolve to CrossFit 3 times a week. No, let's start at 2.  Twice a week with strength training.  Which kind of isn't CF, but at least during Track season, it's a start. 

There.

Now to the harder topic of emotional health.  As a mom, this is the hardest.  You would think that with the constant resistance on a daily, hourly, minutely basis, the emotional muscles would be Schwartzenegger caliber.  Not so.  I think the metaphor is marathonic in nature.  Does that make me emotionally skinny with few reserves?  It's all the same issue, at the core.  The emotions are fed by something and when that something isn't enough to sustain working through the resistance, then you are in trouble.  I'm not quite sure at the moment what the source ought to be -- I've tried chocolate, comfort food, coffee, burrowing into my bed with a heating pad and a book...  None are up to the challenge.

If I went with my gut, I'd say the food is faith.  And hope?  Knowing that the race you are running is not in vain.  That your sweat, toil, labor is an investment in something good.  When that faith is tested, wavers, falls...you are like David on his couch with grief bone-deep inside.  All the cliches are real.  The sun is dark; the sky weeps; the earth groans; your energy is gone; your sight grows dim.  If you are really in bad shape, even the cuteness of little ones fails to spark joy.  Marie Kondo despairs because no matter what you try at home in the organization department, it doesn't help.

And so, here we are, God help us.

Twisted Croissant

Go get one!

You have to wait until Saturday, because they are currently only a market presence.  But you need one.  The end.

On a related note, I caved to CrossFit yesterday.  And, if you know me and my loved ones, that is the start of a marriage comment.  I'm married to CF, sorta.  That is, I'm married to a man committed to CF and (or because) it has changed his life (in a good, not a rhabdo, sort of way).  It started in 2006ish.  So, I predate by 10 years -- sometimes that's an encouragement to me.  Like, I'll always outlive CF?

Back on track.  So.  I've been a part of that whole journey from the sidelines, occasionally taking a dip in the pool -- even during the last pregnancy, but I had to give it up about month 6.  I don't enjoy it.  It's too hard.  I don't like to work, to sweat, or to hurt that much.  Plus, I feel lame about being so weak, even though my brain understands that if I want to be strong I shouldn't quit.  And can I say that I don't want to go there?  Really, running and lifting some suits me just fine -- "floats my boat" as they say.

But.

It has assumed greater proportions than a preference issue.  It's now an obstacle in my relationships.  MMJ (That would be my cute and clever moniker for the hubs: "My Man, John"-- think Godfrey and understand, or just move on), he not only subscribes, he has signed up the kids.  At one point in history, he signed me up, but I got pregnant and fell off.  I find that I am the only one who is able to choose to be off the list and this is now causing problems. 

Are you following?  I can choose to stay off the list.  I can choose to pursue fitness my way.  BUT (this is SO big!)...but if I do then I am sacrificing a potential good.  My Dad found Ben Franklin's advice worth passing on to his kids, so here's my pros and cons breakdown:
PROs:  amped fitness, being one of the team, greater platform to relate with everyone, avoiding ill will in kids who are "forced" to workout, embracing my husband's leadership
CONs:  greater personal discomfort, time commitment

The outcome is obvious, given that I have a brain capable of choosing the best, here.  My last PRO is the biggie.  I know it isn't the only way to fitness, but it's his way.  Flipping the tables, if I felt so strongly about something and he refused because he just didn't want to, that might be a big deal to me.  At the least, I know that if he did something he didn't want to for me, there would be some very real and good trickle-down.  So, this then is my choice.  I join the CF group.  AND stop complaining and feeling it a burden.  AND, AND no longer feel the need to share with others that I don't like it or don't want to, but am sacrificing myself for the greater good (insert wry smiley face emoji).

TTFN

Confusion is Our Status Quo

It looks like I was a busy girl yesterday -- 3 posts?  Truth is, all 3 were written years ago and just sat in the draft bin until I decided yesterday that it is time.  I couldn't trash them, even outdated as they were.  However, they don't do a fair job of representing the Now.  So, here's to righting the wrong.

Hi.  If you are reading this and you aren't me, I would like to be on record for having said this blog isn't so much for you as for me.  I recently determined to resume journalling, and because my blog in the past served that purpose so well, well, here I am.

I find that my head collects clutter.  Clutter isn't necessarily an evil thing, but I have never found that it contributes positively to my life.  The one benefit of having a number of items immediately at hand is outweighed by the visual ugliness and feeling of disorder.  My brain needs decluttering probably more times in a day than I can manage.  Weeks worth of accumulation and I can't seem to navigate myself through the piles.  I'm like Pooh, Piglet, and Rabbit trekking circles in the forest -- with all the accompanying emotions.

Ergo, I land here.

Now on to the good stuff.

Inspired to Try Again

The story you may not want to hear is that I used to have a blog.  Then I got a notice to send my credit card number, and they were going to charge me a quarter to keep it open.  There was something that resembled a respectable reason as to why, but I can't remember what it was.  I opted to get bugged, and not participate.  Wasn't thinking too hard about all the pictures I had not retrieved and which existed only on my blog...  I regret that high horse right now.  I told myself that it was a prudent action, since my homeschool was up to 6 students and we were moving to a foreign land.  It did save me time, but it also divested me of the ready "ear" to sort through my thoughts -- a load far too heavy for the few moments I could catch with my active duty military husband.

Other than revisiting my past decisions, there wasn't much of a point to that.  Maybe I don't want you to consider me a novice at this game.  Maybe I feel I'm not starting fresh, though it will certainly look that way to observers.  Maybe I just want to bite the sandwich somewhere, and here is as good a place as any.

To continue the non-story....I was inspired today to start up again.  But we shall try to stick to one story at a time.  The above will suffice for the day, with a small update in information.

At some point, I'll have to craft the about me part on the sidebar.  My blog will only possess me for the merest snatches, so here is the temporary info.  I am a wife, a mother to ten, a homeschooler in part, and find that words fail me here.

A New Beginning

We don't so much have the new haircuts and schoolclothes and lunchboxes and backpacks; nevertheless, there is a freshness and new feel to the air.  This is our last official summer day.  Tomorrow begins some firsts and some lasts.  First, we have 3 homeschoolers this year.  Justus, Lib, and Josiah will be doing 6th, 4th, and 3rd at home with Mrs. Mom.  The Big Four and Miss Moriah will be at Rockbridge:  again, for the Four, and something new for First Grade Mo.  Second, Soren and Jay will be tearing up the carpets at home, along with our loaner "Jackson," Malachi Scroggins.  Mal is a few months younger than Jay and we will be watching him over the schoolyear.  His dad is a teacher at school and his mom works at NASA.

Not to be overlooked, the other "new" is John.  Now Lt Col, retired, he works at his desk in our bedroom-by-night-office-by-day.  Though not technically "new" as we go into the third month of his employment by Clarity Solutions, it is yet not old.

There are some regrets over a summer not quite the vacation one would like it to be.  Despite that, I think we all feel ready to jump into the busy routine of school days.  Maps are on walls, all supplies are in order, and everyone has appropriately sized uniforms.  Bread is in the oven for lunchtime sandwiches this week, banana bread for first day snack is cooling on a wire rack.

I am blogging...

Let me just remind myself why.  Because I process externally.  Whether by writing or talking (to myself, often), I sort out what is going on inside my brain.  My very tolerant and accepting siblings used to call it brain vomit -- the stuff that just poured out of my mouth apparently without much thought and certainly without any order or logic.

Because we all know this blog is really about me.  My kids, my life, my work, my thoughts, my record of what is important.  Let's be honest here, there is no impartiality.  Ever.  So it shall remain open and fully revealed.  The title might as well have my name is bold and glittery print.  You just can't get around the loud ME sitting in the middle of the room.

I am creating here a refuge of sorts.  Very little in this house is private.  Even my bedroom is shared.  I have no personal space.  It's a Mom thing and I accept that.  So I sneak in privacy where I can get it.  And it still feels private when only I have the say in with whom I share.

I hear it's perfectly normal to experience a few problems when resuming writing.  It certainly doesn't, at sentence two, feel quite as flowy as it used to.  Perhaps the fingers are a titch toward the arthritic.  Or 10pm isn't quite as friendly as it used to be.  Likely the neurons fired off their quota today and things are a bit slow in the gray matter.

Aging will be full of new and exciting things...new and interesting things....new and probably more boring than anything else.  Whatever.  It just is what it is and we won't be judgemental.  We will, instead, journal as we go.  Attempting to locate the words that capture the moments and give them to you.