Warning: May Contain Nuts

So, I got this in the mail the other day. You can see why it caught my eye.

(My favorite part is how they photoshop-ed this guys arm pit. Nice.)

Sorry, Zan! I love you!!

This past week was absolutely incredible. Last Sunday night our dear friends, Daniel & Jenn (and his mom and grandparents) rolled into Omaha on their way back south. We spent the evening with them and it was SO good to see them. In a lot of ways it seems like our life in Dallas never happened, like all of those friends we made and things we did and people we loved are all a made up fairytale of goodness that we tell, but didn’t really live (we miss you all so much). We sent them off on Monday and thought about them driving all day.

Tuesday came and so did Grans. She flew in that afternoon and will be here through late October. Four generations under one roof is quite a feat and thus far there have not been any real issues, which I will chalk up to the fact that Grans only wears one hearing aid and it’s not usually in her ear. She told me a story or two that I haven’t heard before and repeated several that I’ve been hearing for a few years. This used to only be something my dad’s dad did, but I think it’s catching and now Grans has it too. The sad part is that I’ve caught myself doing it too. So, you know, if you heard this one before….

Friday morning, Jud’s family rolled into town. His youngest sister was moving down for college and we helped move her in on Saturday. She’s on Rebecca’s hall and we know she’s going to have a blast (we did quite a bit of reminiscing while we were driving down to the school…college was so incredibly fun…the road trips…the drama…the pranks…the green nun…the coffee…it was also incredibly stretching and such an intense period of personal and spiritual growth…even with all the growing pains and sleep deprivation, neither of us would trade in those days).

In the middle of all of that, Jud got offered a new job, to do something completely different and we thought about it…a lot. He’d interviewed and we’d prayed and he got offered pretty sweet money. The trade off was for longer hours, more stress and in all probability junky supervisors who are just this side of crazy. He eventually talked about all of it with his current employer (toward whom he had no ill will nor did he posess a real desire to leave) and they found a better solution. So he is staying there and we are both happy. We both think that ultimately, what he really chose, was to be there. To be there for Gideon. To be there for me. To be there for the ministry we are leading. To be present and fully committed to the things that matter most. I’m so glad he did.

The bomb squad is now outside. More updates to follow…after we run some errands.

Not that long ago a friend of mine posted on her blog about how being a mom is tiring. I agree with that. I also know that one of the things that makes me less tired is working out. I know some people will disagree with me on that, but I don’t mean the hours and hours at the gym slaving away until my hair falls out kind (you know who you are…and I’m glad that you have chilled out about those overly intense workouts). I mean the thirty to sixty minutes of aerobic activity…running, stair climbing, tread climbing (have you done this? find a tread climber near you and get on that thing! You’ll burn more calories than running, but you’re walking and it feels good), or whatever the next best thing at the gym is.

I haven’t been to the gym now since last week (although it seems like much longer) mostly because to get there, I need to go around 4:30 or 5:00 am and I’m loving sleep more than being awake. I was feeling pretty perplexed about how to burn those calories and wake myself up, until I found FitTV. My parents have the super deluxe digital cable package and it has an entire channel dedicated to working out. Some of the workouts are clearly from the 80s (sse: headbands, shiny lycra/spandex leotards, and now vintage Nikes) but sweat is sweat, so whatever.

Yesterday I did a “dancers workout” along with some yoga and I thought it was no big deal, that technically it was barely a workout at all, the sweat was not much and the weights I used were light. Today, however, I realize that it was doozy. My muscles are telling me that I worked hard, everywhere except where I really want them to, which is of course my abs.

I’m back down to my pre-baby weight now but it has been redistributed into odd pockets of flesh around my torso and upper arms. I can fit into most of pre-baby pants, but with a nasty muffin top. Shirts that have no buttons usually fit but if they do they usually highlight the extra roll of squishy-ness just above my pants, which is not exactly the look I’m going for right now (I can’t wait until it comes into style. I’m going to rock that fashion trend).

All of that to say, the next time you see your mother, hug her and hug her big. She gave up her body for you.

This picture was taken when I thought I was ‘showing’. Little did I know, I’d be three months post delivery and wishing I had that belly.

(Curses on blogger for not letting me rotate this image!)

But I still wouldn’t trade that belly for this little guy.

Not even when he’s doing this.