What's in a Name?

1.27.2011

One can dream...

We all have those moments that catch us off-guard; when we look in the mirror and don't quite grasp what we are seeing.  For some it's the grey hair, for others the bulges in places previously firm.  For me, it's the fine (and sometime more substantial) lines in my skin.  I understand it.  I spent years in the sun between swimming and life guarding and sunscreen was something we only used in the first month of summer.  I admit to being a sun worshipper, and even donned the baby oil to ensure that I browned up nicely on vacation and in the summertime.  I even worked at a tanning salon one winter, where the owners would actually advise me to use the tanning booths more, because I wasn't tan enough to be a good advertisement for them.  I have earned this skin, but it still surprises me. 
Then I remember, I am thirty-eight years old.  By my previous standards, I am pretty damn old.  I remember people older and wiser than I talking about this phenomenon; about not feeling as old as you are.  I think that the fact that I am in far better physical shape than I was in my younger years only enhances the deception for me.  In my twenties I was twenty or thirty pounds heavier than now.  I was athletic but I also ate and drank with abandon.  Now I pay closer attention to what I consume, and working out has become more than a passing hobby.  I have achieved athletic pursuits in my thirties that I never thought possible in my twenties, and I feel great.  I feel much younger than thirty-eight, but my skin does not lie.

I was putting make-up on in my bathroom one morning with Isabel by my side, and again I noticed her gorgeous skin.  Isabel's skin is smooth and olive toned and flawless.  The only thirty-eight year-olds that I know who have skin like that are on billboards or in magazines, where women's skin resembles that of someone half their age.  I don't think I ever had skin as pretty as these women, some of them much older than me.  Did they miss out on the sun worshipping that was en vogue in 1988?  Or have they had work done to turn back the hands of time? 

I know that we women tend to be our greatest critics, and when I reflect on the changes I have made to my health and my body in the last fifteen years I am proud.  But seriously.  I just want my skin to look like Isabel's.  Is that really too much to ask?

1.20.2011

Mother of the Year

My friends and I joke about the different actions or occurrences that inevitably will take us out of the running for the elusive "Mother of the Year" award.  I had my first one last night, when I forgot to put Devin to bed.
In my defense, it was a really busy day where I was going non-stop from the moment I dropped the boys off at school in the morning.  I had a dentist appointment and two volunteer sessions at school, which were separated by a quick workout at the gym.  Then after errands and picking the boys up at school (Izzy chose to nap in the car), I brought Alex to the hospital to have dinner with his classmate who is recovering there.  We got home at 7:30 in time for bed.  I put Alex down but let Devin stay up to read for a few minutes, which is our normal routine.  I put Izzy to bed and went down to talk to Andy.  Then I hopped online for the first time that day to catch up on things.  Andy had a conference call at 9:00 and I went up shortly thereafter to get ready to bed.  I was cuddled up in my jammies and half way through an episode of "Desperate Housewives" when Devin came in.  At first I was really confused... he did not appear to have a bloody nose and he wasn't vomiting, so why wasn't he sleeping?  Then he said indignantly, "Mom, you forgot to put me to bed!". 
It was 9:45pm, and I put myself to bed before my seven-year-old.

1.18.2011

efficient

My text to Andy at 11:54am:
"So far I have been to the gas station, library, gym to drop Izzy off, wax, coffee, three stores, post office, restaurant and now I'm back to the gym to work out before getting Izzy."

For the record, I left the house at 9:30am.

1.04.2011

words of wisdom

As I was making breakfast this morning...

Isabel: "The boy next to me put raisins in his nose and I said, 'Silly Buddy, don't put raisins in your nose, put them in your mouth!'"
Me (laughing): "Where did that happen?"
Isabel: "At the kids (meaning the child care at the gym).  He didn't put any more in his nose."
Me: "Who was the boy?"
Isabel: "I don't know his name.  He's the boy with raisins in his nose."

Another mother's moment to be proud.

1.03.2011

la bruja

Alex's classroom teacher told me that Alex saw the Spanish teacher in the hallway and called out "bruja" to her three times.  For those of you uneducated by Dora the Explorer, "bruja" means "witch". 
When I talked to Alex about this, I asked him if he knew what "bruja" meant and he hold me the correct answer.  Then I asked him if he thought Sra. Maestra was a witch.  He looked at me like I was crazy and said "no".  Then I asked him if he thought that Sra. Maestra liked being called a witch, and the lightbulb seemed to go on.  He said "no".  He likes Sra. Maestra and did not like the idea that he might have hurt her feelings or made her mad.  I don't know Sra. Maestra well, so I really have no gauge for her perspective.  I don't know if she thinks that my five year old was showing off his recently acquired Spanish vocabulary, or if she thinks that he was intentionally calling her a witch.
The newest Spanish that Alex has added to his growing vocabulary is "Lo siento".  I have a feeling that he will use that well throughout his life time. 
...er, at least as well as "bruja".

1.02.2011

Uno

During our at-home New Years celebration, we introduced the kids to the card game Uno.  We wanted to do a family game night that did not include electronics, but was interesting, fun and simple enough for all to enjoy.  The game Uno fit the bill and we had a grand time.  The boys loved it.  Isabel humored us by playing with the cards and sitting in Andy's lap, but clearly she has some growing to do before this kind of game holds her interest.  Alex was a big winner that night, and Andy and I each managed to win a game, but Devin was not so lucky.  The next night the boys and I played again (at their request/insistence) and Alex was again a big winner.  I also managed to win a couple games, at which time Alex would whine or even cry, but Devin was again unlucky. 
But Devin didn't cry.  He didn't win, and he didn't cry or whine.  Devin was clearly unhappy, but for the first time that I can recall he lost well.  Devin is the most competitive child I know and he's a little quick to tears, so frequently any kind of loss for him is followed by crying.  But two nights in a row he lost game after game without tears.  This is huge for him.  I told Devin that I was proud of him for being a good sport and for handling his loss so well.  It's only a silly card game with his family, but I am seriously proud of him. 
This is just one example of many that demonstrates to me that my little Devin really is starting to become a big kid.