Mom Does Something For Herself!

I should repeat--I'm actually doing something for ME. Besides gardening. I grow things because I like to, I also garden to feed my family so that doesn't really count.

I write about my boys. Everyday I do stuff for my boys. For the puppy. For my husband. For Cub Scouts. For Robotics. For this. For that.

All that stuff isn't about me.

High time I do something-anything-for ME.

Enter BOOT CAMP. Sounds boy-ish, right? A friend from church had a string of FB status updates all about Boot Camp and the stuff they were doing. And it intrigued me. I messaged her and she told me all about it-and, she offered to go with me to try out the Boot Camp location near me.

So I did.

I should back up and add that I've always viewed myself as a tomboy. My college friends might call it something else, but I'll stick with "tomboy" for the purposes of  this post. I like sports. I like watching sports. I like playing sports. I like working out-truly-I like to sweat. I just haven't been working out for a whole bunch of reasons, but not because I don't like to do so. I wouldn't even call it "lazy" because honestly, "lazy" just isn't a word to describe anything about me.

If you read the ABOUT section here on the blog, one of the reasons for writing this blog is to try to find ME in this house of testosterone. Life has kinda gotten in the way of ME being me for oh, the past 15 years. Coincidentally, my oldest is 15. Crazy, right? A whole lotta stuff has gotten in the way of ME. C-section  complications. Depression. Basal Cell Carcinoma. Law Suits. Losing an historic family home. Job loss. Miscarriages. Chronic back pain. Depression. Bryce's horrible food allergies. Depression. Bryce's speech. Bryce's GI troubles. Bryce's ER trips. Most recently, the tragic loss of Brad's parents.

I don't want this to be cause for a pity party. I'm also not making excuses. Life has had it's bad moments the past 15 years--but it's also had a lot of good moments. Truly, more good moments than bad. But the thread running through it all is that all those moments have gotten in the way of ME and being who I am. It's not that I just sat back and allowed life to consume ME-I was IN the middle of all that stuff, after all. I just lost sight of ME and really allowed ME to drift out of the picture.

I've been quoted as saying, "I'm not even on my own to-do list."  Truth.

Ok, so back to the friend from church (Cheryl) and Boot Camp. Cheryl met me at the gym (at 5:30 AM) and motivated me through what was the toughest physical thing I'd done in a long time.

I loved it. I bought a Groupon for 4 weeks of Boot Camp  and I told my friend Rachel she should do it, too. She has also lost her sense of "ME" in her house of  boys and is fighting back to be herself. Please check out her blog-she's an AWESOME writer.  So now, Rachel and I are partners in crime, going to Boot Camp every morning at the crack of dawn. Well, before the crack of dawn. But we go 5 days a week, sometimes 6.

We love it. I love it. I *needed* it.

I was on a scrapbooking weekend a few weeks ago with my best friends from college and I told them that I finally felt like the old Dort was back. (my college peeps call me Dort.) Since this group of girls has been with me through all the stuff over the past 15 years and they've  known me for 25 years, they would be the first to disagree with me if I were wrong.

But they didn't. They agreed--I'm the most like myself than I've been in recent years. And they're happy for me!  Most of all, I'm happy for me.

Is is going to Boot Camp daily for the past 9 weeks and losing almost 12 pounds and 9 inches that made me finally be ME again? Not directly. It's going to Boot Camp daily-for ME-and doing something with Rachel and all the lovely women I've met at Boot Camp. It's pushing myself physically for no other reason than to push myself physically. It's doing things at Boot Camp that I didn't know I could do. Squat thrusts. Push ups (real ones, not always girl ones!). Planks. Bicep curls with 20lb dumbbells. 1000 reps. 100 squats.  Pushing every.single.muscle to it's limit. Then getting up the next day and doing it again. For fun.

I do this for ME so I can be better with THEM.

Food Allergies Still Suck.

I haven't written about Bryce's food allergies in a while mostly because, well, they're pretty static. No real changes. No new allergies, thank goodness. But also no reduction in allergies. If you're a new reader, Bryce is allergic to: Dairy, Egg, Wheat, Rye, Peanut, Tree Nut, Sesame, Cinnamon, and maybe mustard. He cannot tolerate soy as it flares his eczema. He's proven to be anaphylactic to ALL of those listed allergens, so this is some serious stuff.

I had Bryce in for his 5 year well child visit last week. He's missed most of these "well child" appointments because he's at the doctor so much! The pediatrician he sees is great and she herself has a child with food allergies. Additionally, she knows Bryce's allergist personally and that is very helpful as they have the same mindset regarding Bryce & vaccines, Bryce & school, Bryce & eating, etc.

Here's the bad news--and the reason why I do not understand why people take their children off whole categories of food without solid evidence it's necessary: Bryce is sliding off the growth charts. I've managed to keep his weight in the 90% via as much healthy food (bacon, anyone?) as I can get in him, but his growth is starting to stall out. He was in the low 90% at age 3, the low 80% at age 4, and now at age 5, he's slipped to the 73%.

For many families, this would be normal. In our family, this is not normal. The ped agrees--Bryce is smaller of stature than he likely would be were he consuming a full range of foods. My husband is tall. I am tall. My cousins are tall. Heck, Brad is Dutch--100% Dutch, and we all know that the Dutch are the tallest "race" of people on Earth. My older 2 boys have consistently been off the chart for height since birth (Bryce, too, actually). My 9th grader is 6 feet tall and my 4th grader is almost 5 ft tall. Bryce is supposed to be tall!

But now, he stalls. He hasn't changed shoe size in almost 1 year. Is he healthy otherwise? Yes. No real illnesses this winter (knock on wood as winter is NOT over!) He's enjoying school. He's learning to read. He's learning to add.

He's not growing. A friend commented something to the effect of "he's shorter than you expected, what's the big deal?" Maybe she wasn't so crass as that, but that was the basic premise. She's right-it's not a big deal. He's healthy and we're keeping him safe from his allergens.

But so much of who I am as a person is wrapped around BEING TALL. I am TALL. My kids are TALL. My family tree is full of TALL. Bryce is supposed to be TALL. I don't want him to be short. I don't want him to look at his older brothers who will both likely top 6 feet and have him be sad because he isn't tall, too.

It sucks enough that he has to eat differently from everyone else.

It sucks enough that he has to carry around drugs to save his life everywhere he goes.

He shouldn't have to be short.

Food allergies suck.

Newton the Babysitter.

This photo pretty much sums up what we love about Newfoundland Dogs around here. They are so dedicated to their families, especially the children under their care. Newton is about 4.5 months old in this photo and about 55 pounds (1/3 of his adult size). He sat at the fence, patiently watching Bryce play with the neighbors next door. He sat like this, without moving, for almost 45 minutes. Never laid down. Never changed position, other than turning his head side to side as Bryce & the other children ran and played. Heck, he didn't even move when I came out to snap this photo! 

I know that lots of dogs and dog breeds are dedicated to their families, but there is something special about a PUPPY whose instincts have already kicked in and enabled him to do what he's supposed to do. Newton is one super dog.

Newton the Newfoundland, 4 months old

Our Newfie pup, Newton, is now 4 months old and weighs in at 50 pounds. He's adorable, but never get a puppy in the winter. It's messy and you have to constantly go outside with a  puppy  in the snow, sleet, hail, wind, freezing temperatures and what not. Newfoundland puppy fur is a snow magnet & he's a hot mess most days. That said, this pooch is so fun to have around! 

He really is a great puppy and truly does not get into much. He mostly picks up whatever stray toy or item is left within reach and is quite good about letting us take it from him. He kennels up nicely at night and is doing better with car rides and leash walking. He has learned "sit" and "down." The only trouble spot we're working on currently is his table manners--as in, how HE behaves when we're sitting at the table eating. He likes to try to jump on the table or on our laps to get at the food.  It's a work in progress!

He has learned to love ice cubes and "begs" for one each time we get ice for our drinks. How does he beg? He sits in front of the fridge and gives us his most pathetic look, similar to this shot of him outside:

He is a pro at ringing his bell to let us know he wants out. How did we train him to do this? Simple. I tied the bell to the doorwall ("sliding glass door" to you non-metro Detroiters) and and rang it once against his nose as I let him out. He had it mastered the next time he wanted out. No joke. It only took once to show him this trick! I've had to raise the height of the bell almost as frequently as we've had to adjust his collars because he grows so quickly. 

Here's Newton catching a scent outside in the snow. The white flakes are snow falling. He loves being outside and we have a hard time keeping him in when there's snow on the ground. He is a winter loving dog for sure!

Happy Birthday!

My oldest and youngest share a February birthday, which is nice because it means ONE PARTY for 2 kids. It's a drag for Brett, who is still young enough to whine about the fact that his brothers have birthdays right after Christmas and he has to wait "soooo long" for his. Whatevs.

Brett's birthday is in May. Like that's a long time away or something.

Anyway, we are now the parents of a 15 year old and a 5 year old. Come May, they will be 15, 10, and 5 which is awesome for me because I like numbers that are divisible by 5. I'm just strange that way.


Here's Bryce:

Brendan (that's pretty much a smile when you're 15)

 Here's some pre-blowing out candle silliness:

Here they are blowing out their candles: 

Happy birthday, boys!!!

Better Early Than Never, Right?

The worst weather forecaster in the USA has predicted an early spring. (it's Groundhog Day, folks.)

I, for one, do not understand WHY weather predictions from a rodent are important. Ok, they're not important, but sheesh, why the heck does this tradition persist?

Considering I want to be rid of the furry little varmints via some Looney Tunes-style ACME dynamite, I certainly don't take heed to what he "predicts."

Those root-eating, lawn-destroying, ankle-rolling critters make my life miserable. Oh-the ankle rolling? Yeah. Well, when they dig their lovely tunnels through your freshly mulched flower beds, and you step on one of those tunnels, the earth gives way and if you're me, that means you roll your ankle. Not very gracefully. 

So, anyway, how did I celebrate Phil's prediction of an early Spring? By getting in the mood. 

THE GARDENING MOOD, people. 

I strolled through Pinterest for some garden inspiration and found a few things:

Source: hgtv.com via Dorothy on Pinterest

Source: houzz.com via Dorothy on Pinterest

Source: iheartearlgrey.tumblr.com via Dorothy on Pinterest

Bring on Spring!!!

Stuff My Dog Eats.

It was unseasonably warm here, reaching 60 degrees yesterday. Crazy for January in Hockeytown! But a perfect day to send Brendan outside to clean up Newton's, ah, piles. You know what I'm talking about--the stuff dogs leave behind.

*I must warn you that I'm truly going to talk about dog piles and what we find in them*

Brendan spent the better part of an hour cleaning up piles and we learned a couple of  things about Newton.

1. He hasn't managed to designate one spot to leave his piles.

2. He has managed to eat things that he shouldn't have, which leaves evidence behind in his piles.

I really wanted to call this post "Sh*t My Dog Eats," but since I've made a point of not using foul language on the blog, I nixed it. If you know me personally, you know I can drop a curse word like nobody's business, but I wanted more for my blog. Anyway, while  "Sh*t My Dog Eats" won't be appearing as a title for a blog entry, I will keep a tab on the side bar for Stuff My Dog Eats.

Because everybody does want to know what my dog eats. Right?

In this entry, we feature a few colorful items:

Red
Blue 
Green

Yep. He ate a red crayon, a blue crayon, and a green crayon. Newton seems to prefer primary colors but that green one must've just lept into his mouth. It would appear that crayons make it safely through a dog's digestive tract, ending up in piles in the same bits and chunks that they went into his mouth.

A lime green sticky hand toy. What is a sticky hand toy? It's one of the silly party favor-type toys that parents feel obligated to put in party favor bags. It stretches and sticks to stuff, which evidently is fun to play with if you're 4. This item, thankfully, went through whole. It really could've caused a lot of problems, but as Brendan pointed out, it's made of lots of nasty petro-chemicals, so it probably just slid on through the dog.

Ugh. I'm really glad that's all we found. We will be more careful with crayons as they seem to be some sort of Newfoundland Dog treat.