Oh Crap! Realization of the Day … Pictures with Santa

When you take your kids to get their photo with Santa, make sure you are presentable because there is a strong likelihood you will end up in the picture, too. Last year's yoga pants, pony tail, and rubber headband were a lovely addition to the Santa portrait.

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Oh Crap! Realization of the Day ... Faraway Family

My kids talked on the phone to their 10-year-old cousin halfway across the country the other night. They told their cousin about their adventure to the Christmas tree farm that day. She was going with her family the next day. When they got off the phone, my daughter asked, “But, they are not going to the same Christmas tree farm, right?” I said no, because they live very far away from us. Then, she said, “Why do builders build our cousins’ houses so far away from us?”

I didn’t have a good answer for that. How could I tell her we chose to live far away from our family? It makes me sad that my kids will grow up only seeing their cousins once a year, if that. It’s just the way of the world now. We adopt our friends’ families and refer to them as aunts, uncles, and cousins. I guess it’s our way of feeling close to family. I just get a little more sentimental about it this time of year. The good news is, we will see all of their cousins this Christmas, as 20 people try to cohabitate for a week at the house in which I was raised. And, all of us will pick up just like we saw each other yesterday. That’s what family does.

 

 

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Oh Crap! Realization of the Day ... the Affair

So … my husband is having an affair. I’ve known about it for about 6 months now, but this is the first time I am speaking openly about it. I know the mistress … well, I know of her. I call one of our friends in Alexandria her pimp. She is pretty appealing--I’ll give that to him. I’ve even considered joining them! Hey, I have to have a sense of humor about it, right?

She clearly gives him things I cannot. He has never looked better. He is happy. He’s 41, so I guess I’ll just chalk it up to a mid-life crisis. He has even introduced the kids to her. They seem to like her.

I guess I shouldn’t complain too much. He still carries his weight at home. He spends a lot of time watching videos of her that she posts on some obnoxious Facebook page she has. And, she is even storing some of her things in our garage. Uh, okay, I don’t even get to part my car in there! He mostly sees her really early in the morning, so it doesn’t interfere with our lives too much. Every once in a while he sees her after work, and has invited some guys from work to join them.

Wricka-Wricka … (That was my record scratch). Okay, it just got weird. I may as well reveal to you that his mistress is … CrossFit.

I apologize to friends and family. I hope I didn’t give anyone a heart attack.

Here is the definition my husband gave me: CrossFit describes its strength and conditioning program as “constantly varied, high intensity, functional movement," with the stated goal of improving fitness (and therefore general physical preparedness), which it defines as "work capacity across broad time and modal domains."

That all sounds reasonable and completely harmless. But, from what I am starting to understand—not just about my husband, but about the whole “CrossFit Community”—is that it is somewhat of an obsession. Some outsiders have referred to it as a cult. Yea, I could see it. I am advised to call it his “passion.” And, our friend in Alexandria, VA, is the CrossFit coach who opened his eyes to it, so if anyone from Northern Virginia is looking to do this or see less of their spouse, I’ll hook you up.

And, yes, my 4-year-old twins can be seen doing planks and lifting a PVC pipe. And, yes, I have a large wooden box covered in shoe prints in my garage, a pull-up bar permanently affixed to the wall, a couple of those ever-loving kettlebells, and several other items that “hardly take any space.” And, yes, sometimes unexpected guests show up in said garage to do something called the WOD (workout of the day), and to try and achieve a PR (personal record). Other times they will do their WOD at a “box,” the gym that houses these cults and their old-school exercises.

There is often talk among these CrossFitters of “Paleo,” as if he is some kind of cult leader.  Turns out, it’s a period of time, known as the Paleolithic era—during the time of the caveman. The Paleo Diet is based on what they call “clean eating.” It’s eating like the cavemen—mostly meat, fish, fruits, and vegetables. I’m not sure if they have to hunt and gather their own food and pull it back to their homes on a wagon with square wheels. Though, I’m sure if my husband had to hunt for his food, he would certainly lose a lot of weight. I’m not even sure if he knows where the grocery store is.

He talks endlessly about all of these things, as do other cult members. He uses all the buzzwords I’ve mentioned, and many more I’ve just stopped asking about. And, while this “passion” has slightly impacted our lives, this mid-life crisis could be much, much worse. And, yes, he looks amazing and he feels good about himself again … and, that is good for all of us. I hope the “CrossFit World” doesn’t take offense to any of this. I think what you are doing makes a lot of sense. Heck, if the boxes started offering child care, I might be right there with you.

So, this blog is for all you CrossFit widows out there. I feel your pain and I know you feel mine. And, all you CrossFitters out there, I hope you blow your WOD right out of the water today!

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Oh Crap! Realization of the Day … Kids Get It

We were listening to holiday music in the car today, and “Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer” came on. I was singing along, sitting in the Starbuck’s drive-through, when I saw some confusion on their faces in the rear-view mirror. My 4-year-old daughter asked, “Why couldn’t Rudolph play the games?”

I didn’t realize they were even listening to the words. I figured they were thinking, “Geez, I wish Mom would stop singing. Doesn’t she know the other drivers are rolling up their windows so they won’t hear her?”

So, I turned around to them and explained that the other reindeer didn’t want to play with Rudolph because he was different. I was going to continue, thinking it would require more than that to make them understand the story, when my 4-year-old son interrupted me with the most matter-of-fact statement, “Well, everyone is different.”

I quickly turned to the front again as tears filled my eyes. It’s a moment like that when a mom feels like she is doing a good job—or, at least reproduced to better the future of our world. I realize now that pre-school kids are the most open-minded people on the planet. We could all learn something from them.

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Oh Crap! Realization of the Day … Decorating the Tree

I love decorating the tree with my kids. They fight over who hangs which ornaments. They fight over the part of the tree they decorate. They get mad at me for not letting them hang the $20+ Christopher Radko glass ornaments. They get mad at me for not letting them climb the ladder to hang the ornaments at the top. They spill their hot cocoa. They roll their eyes when I try to take their picture next to the tree. They cry when their metal hook comes out of one of the ornaments. They cry when an ornament falls and rolls under the tree and out of their reach. They complain when I don’t let them hang every ball from the Costco-sized shatterproof ornament bucket. They yell over the lovely Christmas music my husband has in his iPod playlist. Shall I go on?

But when it’s all said and done, and I step back to look at the tree, I smile. And, I chuckle … when I see 18 shatterproof ornaments hanging in a one square foot section about 36” from the floor (eye level for my 4-year-olds). I may remove a few to relieve the sagging branch, but I leave most as a reminder of what it took us to get there. And, I will look forward to the same chain of events next year. Happy decorating!

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You know you are sleep deprived when ...

You know you are sleep deprived when … you put the dish soap in the sink, turn on the water to fill it, and come back a minute later to see you forgot to plug the drain.

Oh Crap! Realization of the Day ... Toddlers and Bathrooms

This one is fairly obvious, but I'm writing it as a reminder for me. Don't leave bathroom doors open when you have a toddle in the house. Dang, it's cute, though.

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