Time. . . It Goes So Fast!n

Monday through Friday I get up each morning and head to Alexandria for work fighting traffic each day. I fight the clock each day to produce my reports (we have reports that are 4 hour, same day, next day and 3 day turnaround) on time and try and work ahead. I head home each night fighting traffic to get to daycare to pick Smiley up before they close. Some nights I have to rush to feed her so that she has something in her stomach before the babysitter gets there or had off to choir. Weekends are a bit lazier - most Saturdays are free for an open schedule but others are not. Sunday mornings are a struggle to get myself ready in the morning and as well as Smiley so we can get out the door to church on time. Its a fight with time.

This year I am turning 40 so I'm fighting the sands of time showing on my face, hands, and most specifically hair (UGH). Time is flying.

Smiley is 3 now and more active that ever and learning more every day. Time is flying because she is learning and trying new things every day. I'm trying to help her grow and learn but I'm trying to hold onto my baby for a little while longer.

Its already almost the middle of February. It may be bitter cold out there but next thing we know it will be spring and then summer and then fall and then next thing I know I'll be planning Smiley's 4th birthday party and celebrating Christmas. Ahhhhh . . . time is flying.

We all have moments in our lives that show up time is flying. Today February 13th is an example to me of how time flies and those moments I have really missed in that time. Today is most significant because 6 years ago today my mother passed away. 6 years already? Where did the time go? I remember that day, those moments so vividly as it it was minutes/hours/days ago. 

I've missed so much time with my mother. Being able to do those "mother/daughter" things. Introducing her to her grandchild, Smiley. Sharing holidays and birthday together (her birthday is 2 days before mine). Talking with her about how I feel I'm doing (or the lack thereof) as a mom. Wanting advice and reassurance I'm doing it ok. 

Time back to show my mom how much I love her and that I want to be a better person and daughter. Talking with her, shopping with her, laughing with her and even disagreeing with her. Time is not on my side.

So with this advice in hand. Slow down and spend time with your loved ones. Tell them how much they mean to you and never leave anything unsaid. It will eat you up inside and you will always be left with his feeling that you are empty in a way.

Spend time with your loved ones. . . I am tonight. We are having "crazy family dinner" tonight.

Celebrate the here and now with your loved ones.

And the winner is . . CHOCOLATE

And the winner is . . . CHOCOLATE! Ok ladies now that I have your attention, I'm here to talk about chocolate. Milk Chocolate and Dark Chocolate. Oh how I love thee and that is why I'm giving it up for Lent this year. (gasp).

Its officially February and Lent is just around the corner so I had to really start thinking what was I going to give up. I posed the question to B-man who initially said soda (bwah ha ha ha) and then said chocolate. I think it is a good idea so I'm sticking with chocolate.


So that means . . . no chocolate candy bars, no chocolate cookies, no chocolate cake, no chocolate ice cream, no brownies, no chocolate cream pie, etc (you get the idea). Sounds not too terribly hard but lets see how I do. I've got a sweet tooth so this could pose harder than I think depending on the amount of temptation I get during lent.

Have you picked what you are giving up? 

40 Days = 40 Bags

I'm getting a head start on Lent this year!

For those who don't know Lent is the time period beginning on Ash Wednesday (How many of you have your own holiday?) that leads up to Easter. It is roughly 40 days give or take a few Sundays). I have always given up something (soda, desserts, chips, etc) that is a vice but this year I'm having a hard time trying to think of what to give up. While I ponder that I do have to say I'm proud that I've decided to participate in the concept of 40 Days = 40 Bags.

I learned of this last year at lent (a little late but I "tried" to do it) and I love the concept. For the 40 days of lent you need to take at least 10 minutes and clean/declutter one area and whatever you have goes into bags. Those bags either go to the trash or stored neatly for a yard sale or give aways. I love the idea and last year as I said I tried to do it and got about 1 week in and then just slacked off. I did get a section of my entertainment room and den looking pretty good that week. Sadly it looks like crap again but it still has less crap than last year (I know this because I had to go into one the cabinets I cleaned out last year and I've successfully kept it clean and organized).

This year I'm gonna do it and stick to it. I've got so much stuff in my house that I know I don't need that this must be done. No matter how hard it might feel to carve out 10 minutes (or more) each day to this concept. I know I can declutter. . . I even got a jump on it last night while thinking about the 40 Days = 40 Bags.

I found my new phone has a timer so I can't make that excuse. I'm going to try and keep myself accountable by posting on my blog every so often with pictures of before and after (or at least my bags). Who's with me on the 40 Days = 40 Bags bandwagon?

Out of the Mouths of Babes

Yesterday I learned the hard way that kids so hear everything we say and then repeat it. Yesterday while playing I heard Smiley say something (not once but twice) that sounded an awful lot like "Damn It". I wasn't sure and I asked her "what was that" to which I got either ignored or just a grunt reply. Well both B-man and I heard it loud and clear yesterday evening during the full on temper tantrum at bed time. I pulled in her nightlight and she said "Damn it, now you've ruined everything" (add foot stomp and fist against leg).

My mouth was probably gaping open moments after that. I had to ask her again "What did you say"? to which I just go a noise reply of "Uh". "What did you say?" "Where did you hear that?" but again no reply. Add about 10 minutes of temper tantrum and all was fixed (she even got to unplug and replug the nightlight in). I asked B-man what he thought and his reply was "maybe she picked it up at daycare". Naturally I'm racking my brain to try and think, have I ever said that? I might have said "damn it" in an angry moment (and if that is the case - mea culpa mea culpa) but I can promise you I have never uttered "now you've ruined it". I had to try and tell her that we don't repeat/say that phrase to which I got an O.K. but I'm not sure that even clicked.

I have to tell you I'm still a bit shocked and taken aback by it. I know in the grand scheme of things that "damn it" is less than say the f-bomb or other similar words but its the fact that I try so hard to not say things like that around her and will correct others for potty mouthing it.

I know you seasoned moms out there are probably shaking your heads at me and say "first time mom, well bless her heart" but it really has gotten under my skin. When was the first time you heard something come out of your precious little ones mouth that really made you think about your language?

Confession: I love food

I have a confession to make: I LOVE FOOD. Shocked? If you know me you shouldn't - heck look at a picture and you can tell I love food. My challenge is I don't love all foods so while I don't consider myself a picky eater I am particular about my food. I use to think I was pretty adventuresome about food but I have learned I am not. My "ah ha" moment was when my husband and I were on a date way back when and the appetizer from a prefix menu was put in front of us and I declared "I'm Not Eating THAT!". B-man still will say it to my face every now and then when I'm getting persnickety.

Am I a picky eater that I only like my red meat to be cooked well done (brown all the way through - no pink)? I tend to order Filet Mignon at restaurants, not because I'm being a snob but because it is a leaner cut of meat. I don't like any fat on my meat because it makes me sick when I end up eating a little bit of it (yes yes I know you should have some on there for cooking purposes but I just have to cut it off). I don't eat a lot of fish because 1) I won't order a whole meal of a fish I've never tried and 2) I don't particularly care for much of the fish I have tried. I'll eat chicken every now and then but it isn't my favorite thing (B-man is cringing I know because fried chicken is his favorite food). I don't particularly eat soup unless I'm really in the mood (usually sick or its really really cold out).

I am a slave to flavor but don't eat (well 99.99% of the time) the same thing 2 days in a row. Leftovers are not very popular with me. I'll take things home on a rare occasion because the food is either 1) really that good I can eat it the next day, 2) some foods get better the next day (PIZZA) and 3) I can give it to the dog. Maybe I am scared for life from the "clean out the frig" nights of dinner we had as a kid. There were some seriously strange things left in that frig that we had to eat just to see it go away.

Oh and texture plays a huge factor in foods that I will and will not eat. For example I don't particularly care for mushrooms but I will eat them raw in a salad and on a rare occasion on a pizza (very rare occasion). They get all mushy when cooked. I won't eat black olives on anything other than a BMT from subway (add cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, onions, green peppers, pickles, mustard, mayo, salt and pepper and it is sooo good - just ask my dad) this has to be a flavor thing. I like fresh spinach in a salad but I'm not a fan of cooked spinach (again I think this is texture). I like corn but I'm not a fan of creamed corn (yet again a texture thing).

I'm trying to be more imaginative with my food choices. Heck I brought leftovers for lunch today (yes from last night's dinner) and it was good, again. And . . . and . . . it was chicken and yes I cooked it. Boom!

Do you have any of these food issues? How do you deal with them? I'm thinking this year I will really try (no really - stop laughing) to be more open to flavors and textures of my food. I might end up playing with my food more often and having to get other sides but I'm going to try.

Oh and that food that I said "I'm Not Eating THAT!" well I actually did eat it and it wasn't bad. It was fried oysters (I had never had them before) in a sauce. I thought they weren't too bad until the end when they got really chewy but now I can say I've had an oyster. And I'm not eating that . . . ever again.

Lent is coming up soon (ahhhhhhhh we just finished Christmas) - now I have to figure out what I'm giving up. Usually it is food or drink but I'm not sure (I've given up soda before - my hardest test ever but I did it - even repeated it the next year to see if I could survive again). I've given up sweets (was about 95% good that year) but its hard since I have such a sweet tooth (if I do it again must add clear parameters). I see people have given up Facebook but I'm not doing that. Suggestions anyone?

2015 = A year of new!

Well it has been a while since I last popped in to share my whit and wisdom (and yes I know that one of my 2014 resolutions was to write frequently). So I'll not make any resolutions this year but certainly try to post more.

2014 certainly brought endings and beginnings in my life. The biggest ending was very hard for me to stomach. After 22 years of either being an EMT or First Responder, my certification expired. I won't lie - I lost a big piece of who I am the day that happened (September 1st). I've been involved in EMS for more than half of my life and it was one way I identified myself. I'm still involved as much as time and options allow me but it is I guess the door that closes so another one can open. . . which is in fact what did happen. 

My door opening was I became a ThirtyOne independent consultant a matter of days after that. I had been thinking of getting into the Home Party world but never found any one thing that I could really get behind until I realized that ThirtyOne was a great fit for my life. I use the product (you can call me a bag lady :-) if you want) and I was looking for a new challenge so it fit. I've never been really excited about sales (even when I worked retail in High School and College) so you won't find me pushing this down your throat. I will say that if you are interested in learning about the products ThirtyOne has and/or having a party just let me know and I'll be happy to chat with you about it. My ThirtyOne web page is: mythirtyone.com/ashleyaldridge and I have a closed group on Facebook that you can be added to if you want to learn about specials and such.

The other big change is that my baby girl is no longer a baby girl. She's 3 now and continues to blow my mind. Smiley is in a big girl bed, 99.999% potty trained and learning up a storm. She just amazes me. Its true - don't blink - they grow up so fast. Oh and I'll attest that even though I'm only 1 month into the 3s that 3s are worse than 2s. Such sass! UGH - my mother has come out of my mouth more and more each day (yes yes I know mom you were right). But I love her so much that she's worth it; even on the really really really bad days. P.S. here is your warning - she has my temper.

Another new for 2015 is that I've actually taken a vested interest in my skin. I'm approaching the big 40 this year and I guess I can't ride the "you look so much younger than your actual age" train much longer. I've been "helping" my hair out for a while now with temporary glossers (love the Sangria red) but I've noticed other things are creeping up on me. So I've bought a few products from my friend Dianne who sells Rodan + Fields (they are the dermatologists who made Proactive). I've started using a few items on my face and hands (since time is marching all over them too) and I'm very impressed. This is coming from the girl who wears minimal make up (a little foundation under the eyes, eye shadow, eyeliner, sometimes cheek blush [really I mean sometimes] and sometimes lips gloss/stick [ a little more than the cheek blush but not by much]). I've even used 1 of the products for my face for Smiley's her arms (she has these bumps on the back of her arms like I get). I have another one for her sensitive skin to deal with bugbites. She reacts so badly to a simple bug bite that she looks like she has been attacked by an enire arm of them (anyone who has seen my arms after I get an allergy shot - think similar to that). Her poor arms and legs get so red and the site of the bite gets really swollen. She really dislikes bugs because of how much they itch. I keep cream in 2 spots of the house to help with the itchies. This second product is a cream for sensitive skin that is supposed to help. I'm going to use both of these items on B-man's feet - they are so dry and cracked (I'll post pictures when I do). If you are interested in the R+F stuff I can turn you on to my girl.

Happy 2015 - lets make this our year of new!

If this is it . . . please let me know.

My tag line no doubtfully now has Huey Lewis & The News now stuck in your mind (give it a minute). But I've been doing a lot of thinking lately and when I came across this blog post I couldn't help but think wow. Some of the points are right and some not so much just for me. The blog was called "This Is 38. This Is Midlife". The author says:

Thirty-eight is solidly in the middle of my life. Thirty-eight is realizing that there are likely as many years behind me as there are ahead. It is acknowledging that life is no longer a green field, that certain doors are closed, that some choices are irrevocable and that many of the big what-ifs that haunted my childhood have been answered. Thirty-eight is also realizing that despite these answers, there are far, far more new questions.

Thirty-eight is new lines at the sides of my eyes and mouth. From smiling, maybe, but still.

Thirty-eight is wearing my wedding ring all the time, and my engagement ring only rarely. 

Thirty-eight is not knowing which band was my wedding band and which my husband gave me on the day our daughter was born, because they are identical. I don't think it matters. Thirty-eight is wearing my mother's wedding ring for a time, when she was unable to. Thirty-eight is knowing that one of my favorite pictures from our long-ago wedding shows that I wore my grandmother's ring on my right hand when I walked down the aisle.

Thirty-eight is realizing that certain shorts and skirts are now just too short. Thirty-eight is wondering if this is the summer to put away the bikinis.

Thirty-eight is thirteen years of marriage. It is knowing all the ways that marriage is both less and more than I thought it was, when I walked into a church wearing white and hearing thunder. Less score-keeping, less candlelight, less drama. More small acts of kindness, more forgiveness, more abiding. Fewer flowers, but more cups of coffee made exactly how I like them, without being asked, brought to me in bed in the morning.

Thirty-eight is realizing that my lifetime passion for peonies probably has something to do with their life span, which is as short as it is spectacular. It can't be an accident that I love best of all the flowers that blaze more brightly and most briefly.

Thirty-eight is not having any more grandparents. It is hearing about the illness and death of my friends' parents. It is going to funerals, and also christenings, more often than weddings. Thirty-eight was leaving my injured mother's side before surgery a couple of years ago to run home to my daughter, who was crying that I wasn't spending enough time with her. Thirty-eight is the middle place.

Thirty-eight is knowing who your friends are, for real, for certain. It is understanding that though there will be a small handful of true native speakers, it is OK for many friends to access only certain parts of you. These friendships, while different, can offer great joy, deep laughter and tremendous companionship. Thirty-eight is still learning that not everybody will like you, no matter what you do.

Thirty-eight is drinking homemade green juice and Diet Coke most days. It is developing a taste for kombucha, and drinking coffee with coconut milk and xylitol. It is drinking wine still, but not as much, because I'd rather sleep and I've realized that alcohol interferes with that.

Thirty-eight is finding that each year she grows more sensitive, more aware of life's beauty and pain, more attuned to the world around her. Thirty- eight cries every single day, and laughs that much too (see: lines on my face).

Thirty-eight is in the heart of the grand love affair that is motherhood, both smitten by and exasperated by her daughter and son. Thirty-eight is watching, awestruck, as these children develop into people in whom bloom traits uncomfortably familiar and absolutely foreign in equal measure. Thirty-eight reads Harry Potter aloud, packs lunches, drives to and from soccer and hockey and baseball practices and games (see photo), plans surprise adventure outings and can still make a bruised knee feel better with a kiss.

Thirty-eight is its own kind of phosphorescence. Different than ten's ephemeral incandescence, but no less dazzling and no less fleeting. Just like 10, just like life itself, 38 is bewilderingly beautiful, maddeningly confusing, achingly bittersweet and vanishingly transient.
 
Here is my spin on 38:

To start I'm am closer to 39 than 38 but I don't feel like I'm midlife yet and I'm certainly not having a midlife crisis. I plan to live well into my late 80s or God hoping 90s provided I'm not in a diaper, in a nursing home and can't remember my daughter. B-man says he's going to outlive me so he better take good care of me when I'm older. I agree that certain doors in my life are closed or closing and I have to accept that. I have one event this month that is a significant door closing and truthfully it is very hard for me to accept that. I still cry at the thought of it.

 
Thirty-eight is noticing the brown spots on the side of my face and that my hands look older. I don't have my grandmother's hands but still they are not as smooth as they use to be. I might have crows feet forming but I haven't noticed them yet.

Thirty-eight is explaining to my daughter (as she is playing with my rings) that one day she will get to keep my engagement ring which in turn makes me think of my mom's engagement ring (that my sister has). I have my grandmother's engagement ring and I've been debating on having it reset into a necklace for Smiley.

Thirty-eight is realizing that I can't really wear shorts anymore and that some skirts are just too short for anyone.

Thirty-eight is focusing even more on my hair. Length, style, cut and of course how many grey hairs there are. I have been "changing" colors since I was 18 (thank you genetics) and with my hair being dark brown those little buggers show up really bad. I've been using the wash out dyes for a few years now but I'm noticing I have to use them more and more. Trying to put off the full head dye job for a while longer. NO I am not going to let it go naturally. Again I'm only 38.

Thirty-eight is six years of marriage. It is knowing that romance isn't wine, roses and candles every night. It really is the little things. Surprise goodies from the grocery store. Letting each other watch the TV program they want. Asking if it is O.K. before planning an activity (knowing that permission isn't required, but it still nice if they check with you in case you had plans already).

Thirty-eight is not having any more grandparents. It is hearing about the illness and death of my friends' parents. It is going to funerals. Thirty-eight is feeling and acting like the grownup when life gets hard for friends and family.

Thirty-eight is laughing at the stories that teenagers and early 20 somethings tell about how life is "sooo hard". Hearing them talk about their part time job and now having bills to pay or a 6 page paper to write for school. LOL ahhh the good ole days. I really do find myself telling those kids to enjoy it now because being an adult sucks sometimes. Be a kid as long as you can.

Thirty-eight is knowing that I know a lot of people but I don't have a lot of close friends. I can be a very guarded person (some people translate that into I'm a snob or a witch [insert the B]) thanks to things that have happened in my past so I don't open up all the way to everyone. I have some tried and true friends that I know I can call at any time to talk with. I treasure those people and they will always be in my life. Thirty-eight is accepting that not everyone will like you and being O.K. with that.

Thirty-eight is knowing that I can't stay up past 11 pm anymore without being wiped out and sleeping in is 8:00 in the morning. Sigh I miss the days of staying up to 2 and getting up at noon. LOL. I just can't do it anymore. Heck I put Smiley to bed each night and then I'm off to bed myself not to long after that. Whew. Don't be jealous!

Thirty-eight is sitting on the couch watching my 2 1/2 year old play and be completely amazed at the little person she has become and wondering where that little baby went. Wondering more about making her future solid than anything else in the world. Trying to find ways to keep her entertained and challenged. Hoping things come more naturally and easily for her than they did for me. Praying she gets the best of her father and her mother. Laughing when she does something or acts just like me. I've used the phrase "she comes by it honestly" too much lately it is scary.

Thirty-eight is playing the lottery regularly and plotting out how I will spend the money (buy x type of house; put x amount away for college; pay off bills; putting money aside to grow interest so you never have to work again unless you want to; the trips I would take; a small business I would like to start). Sadly its all logical ways to spend money. Sadly the most I have ever won was $5. 

Thirty-eight is thinking to myself so is this all that my life is cracked up to be? I had imagined when I was approaching 40 that I would have be in a very different place. I'd be wealthier (not a richie rich but still have more income). I'd be in a modest house with my family (husband, 2 kids and at least 1 dog). I've got the family to include one child and one dog (who sadly is 14 and i know won't be with us for many more years) but I'm in a townhouse that I expected would be a starter kind of place not a long term place. I'd have traveled more (across the U.S. and abroad). I'd be more active than I am. I don't know I just expected more from my life at this point in time.

I guess that's what makes us all scared of growing older, we don't really know what to expect because we have ideas of what life will be like at x age and when you get there, surprise it isn't everything you expected. Maybe its just me.