Montecito Mama

Grayson was too preoccupied with kissing the girls and jumping off the monkey bars at the kindergarten graduation potluck to fix himself a lunch plate. However, mine looked good enough to tempt him away. A few minutes later and, "Here, Mom," the red Dixie ware was shoved back onto my lap; empty, except for a "U" shaped peanut butter and jelly crust. I wondered aloud to the other mothers just how many PB&J crusts I've eaten in the last five years? "Oh well," I said. "At least that's where the nutrition is." The words were no sooner out of my mouth then I realized: My mother lied to me. I'll be 30-something-years-old this week, and until last Friday believed that bread crusts held more nutritional value than the inside of the loaf. I never even questioned the logic. Next I'll probably find out that spiders won't crawl in your bed if you don't make it, or that your legs won't get permanently turned backwards if you si

Yes the sand needs to be flat, yes you need a pile of rocks to form a ring, and yes you need an area around the fire to sit. But most of all, more than anything, you need to be aware of the rising tide and keep the fire far, far away from the water. Consider yourself warned.

Today was kindergarten graduation and, like most transitions, was a mixture of joy and sadness. The little boy who holds my hand in the grocery store is now a first-grader, barreling straight towards sixth grade and then 11th grade practically next week. Grayson woke up early, anxious to know the exact moment when he would become a first-grader. "Now? Now am I a first-grader? When I leave for school, then am I a first-grader? How about after the bell rings?" Part of my melancholy stems from our bedtime conversation last night, when he admitted to being worried about not knowing how to ask a girl to marry him, and especially worried that his lack of knowledge in this area would mean loosing the woman of his dreams to another, more educated, fellow. Sob. But just when I think he's on the verge of being grown-up, he'll spin some sort of tale that puts age 5 1/2 in perspective. Like this morning, when we were discussing the shortest girl in his class. I reminded Grayson t

Dawn and Jimmy and I were up before the kids this morning for workout number three. And Dawn was right - third time IS the charm! I was able to do nearly all of the reps (though those darn push-ups still kick my butt) and felt exhilarated afterwards. I can understand how athletes get addicted to the exercise high. That, and the feeling of superiority of having exercised, packed the lunch box, set out everyone's clothes for the day, sliced strawberries for breakfast, bathed and dressed myself before the family had even gotten out of bed! I am woman! On the home front, my poor little angel is teething in the worst sort of way. Constant cuddling seems to be the only remedy for her pain. Inexpensive, yet taxing relief. Thank heavens that t-ball season is over. My resolve to force the boy to fulfill his commitment to the team was waning, as was his willingness to comply. For him, at least, the trophy at the end of the tunnel made everything worthwhile.

You may have seen me running at the State Street Family Mile today. I was not one of the sports bra show-offs. Nor were my buns sporting spandex bikini bottoms. That was me in the baggy t-shirt, hiding behind the jogger. But I did it! Ran the whole thing, and even had breath left to climb back up State Street and retrieve the car. The best part? Sbparent.com surprised me at the run with a "Lucy" gift certificate for new workout clothes! So with a little help from Core & Beyond, Lucy, and sbparent.com, I'll now look good from the inside out. Whether or not I'll choose to wear my new bun huggers out in public, well, that is an entirely different matter.

So I had these Parenting Magazine visions of doing the Core & Beyond DVD with my kids today. I could picture the three of us smiling and bonding and getting fit together. Just think of the life lessons they would be learning! No, the reality sounded more like "But I need my OWN weights, Mom!" and "Both of you! Get out of the dishwasher right now!" and "Your sister is not a trampoline!" in between grunts. Not even a yoga master could have shown the emotional restraint and physical push required to perform the dual tasks I had set myself up for. Perhaps this is the ying and yang of fitness: Core & Beyond gets me lean while my children make me mean! Note to self: Add workout to the "Things to do before the kids wake up" list. (These are a couple of pics from our camping trip to Lake Casitas last weekend.)

Things I can't do today: Laugh Wash my hair Bend over to pick-up my 1-year-old daughter On a positive note, Rob says that I already look more fit. I love that man. I'd probably kiss him if it didn't require so much effort. Once my biceps are functioning again, I'm going to have to use larger screws to attach the votive sconces above my bed. Lucie climbed on top of the headboard and was dangling from them when I woke up this morning.

In a moment of weakness, I signed-up to participate in sbparent.com's fitness challenge. I had barely exited the dressing rooms at Nordstroms, empty handed, after trying on swimsuits for the upcoming swim season, when my cell phone rang. My first thought was, "Hah! Yeah right!" but then a flashback of the lumpy bumpy post-baby body wrapped in Lycra made me say, "Yes. I'll do it." So this morning at 8:30am I reported for my 6-week tour of duty at the home of a fellow PTA mom who led me through the "Core and Beyond" DVD, in which she just happens to have a very intimidating starring role. 22-minutes of lunging, twisting, bending and pushing later, I dragged my sweaty and shaky lumpy bumpy body back home. I'm a bit scared to wake up in the morning. My muscles aren't going to be happy about being awakened from their long hibernation. But I do think I'll hold off buying a swimsuit for a few weeks, and that thought might make this body's

Lucie's new found walking skills leave her hands free for all sorts of mischief, including (but not limited to): hiding mommy's mascara in the bottom of the Kleenex box, unrolling the toilet paper, hanging on the kitchen tablecloth to see what falls down, and multiple attempts to climb out of the highchair. Another mother recently assured me that this determination will serve Lucie well as an adult. If she makes it there.