Up until about a year ago, if anyone said the word craft, I would shudder. There was something about doing crafts that seemed to epitomize being a stay-at-home mom, which was really hard for me. Yes, I'm aware I am a stay-at-home mom, but I've struggled having that be part of my identity as well. So I developed this aversion to crafts because it felt like I would be letting myself go to enjoy them, and I wanted to resist! I didn't want to lose myself to tole painting and vinyl letters. You should know I realize this is absolutely ridiculous. But it was real enough to me that I actually brought it up to my therapist. Ha! Soooo, over the last year I have worked through some of my stubbornness and have come to really enjoy creating things. (I even got a sewing machine for my birthday!) Granted this means my projects sometimes (often?) look like an eight year-old did it, but I don't even care.
Ok, this leads me to share this link where you can see two shirts I painted for Bria using a stencil from the Alison Show. Serious crafty skillz I tell you-- cutting and painting! Anyway, I love her crafts over there because they are really accessible, but also because they're cool. It doesn't make me feel like I need to wear Mom jeans and perm my hair to make them. If anyone wants to have a craft night to make some things from a Hip Handmade Holiday, let me know! I'm totally game.
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
Planning Ahead
Did you know it's proven fact that the moment you notice your child has been in a really good, happy, cooperative stage, they are within days of turning the corner and unleashing their eternal fury? This is true. Therefore, it would be wise to never notice or express gratitude for good behavior, lest you curse it away.
That being said, I woke up to this little love note right next to my pillow (the image is flipped, obviously).
Also, I feel like I want this playing on a loop at my funeral:
That being said, I woke up to this little love note right next to my pillow (the image is flipped, obviously).
Also, I feel like I want this playing on a loop at my funeral:
Sunday, November 18, 2012
When I started this blog, I wanted it to motivate me to focus on happy, positive thoughts (read my header up above). I get really bogged down focusing on the negative, and I want there to be more light and positivity in my life. So, inspired by my sister Whitney, who has been doing this for years, I try to make little happy lists. So here it is for today.
Organizing the shelves by my fridge. This is the spot where we put everything in limbo. That bill I need to look up? Shelves. Spare bobby pin? Shelves. Burned out energy efficient light bulb that needs to be taken somewhere special to be recycled? Shelves. Random coupon for floss? Shelves. Stationery? Shelves. Anyway, they get messy and crazy really quickly, so it was so satisfying to get them all straightened.
My sister Lindsay and I have been texting quick little videos of our kids back and forth. Those cousins love each other, and they're always happy to share a little dance, joke, or well wish.
I bought our Thanksgiving turkey, and it's a beaut! Excited to butcher, brine, and bake that little thing.
I saw Breaking Dawn part 2 last night with some friends, and it was lovely to sit next to a friend who has never read the books or seen the movies so we could laugh through the whole ridiculous thing. Sam cautioned me to be kind before heading out (when am I anything but? ;) because he said I might be the only one in the group seeing the movie ironically. Thank goodness there was someone to share a couple of snarky comments.
Since I met Sam, he has lauded the movie Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans, the Best Picture winner of the 1927 Academy Awards. This may be one area where Sam's snobbery exceeds mine, because I'm typically not one to choose silent black and white films for our viewing. So for almost eight years, I've heard him talk about how amazing it is. I finally bought it for his birthday in July, and we watched it last night. Of course I had just seeing Breaking Dawn, so the contrast was even more stark, but Sunrise was poignant and beautiful, rich with symbolism and motif. I recommend it wholeheartedly to everyone. It made me happy to finally share in something Sam has loved for so long.
Organizing the shelves by my fridge. This is the spot where we put everything in limbo. That bill I need to look up? Shelves. Spare bobby pin? Shelves. Burned out energy efficient light bulb that needs to be taken somewhere special to be recycled? Shelves. Random coupon for floss? Shelves. Stationery? Shelves. Anyway, they get messy and crazy really quickly, so it was so satisfying to get them all straightened.
My sister Lindsay and I have been texting quick little videos of our kids back and forth. Those cousins love each other, and they're always happy to share a little dance, joke, or well wish.
I bought our Thanksgiving turkey, and it's a beaut! Excited to butcher, brine, and bake that little thing.
I saw Breaking Dawn part 2 last night with some friends, and it was lovely to sit next to a friend who has never read the books or seen the movies so we could laugh through the whole ridiculous thing. Sam cautioned me to be kind before heading out (when am I anything but? ;) because he said I might be the only one in the group seeing the movie ironically. Thank goodness there was someone to share a couple of snarky comments.
Since I met Sam, he has lauded the movie Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans, the Best Picture winner of the 1927 Academy Awards. This may be one area where Sam's snobbery exceeds mine, because I'm typically not one to choose silent black and white films for our viewing. So for almost eight years, I've heard him talk about how amazing it is. I finally bought it for his birthday in July, and we watched it last night. Of course I had just seeing Breaking Dawn, so the contrast was even more stark, but Sunrise was poignant and beautiful, rich with symbolism and motif. I recommend it wholeheartedly to everyone. It made me happy to finally share in something Sam has loved for so long.
Friday, November 16, 2012
Well, hello.
So now I'm curious. Ummm who is reading this thing? I had been toying with the idea of starting a new blog for a long, long time. In fact, I started this blog in January! But it was private up until this point while I was deciding what to do. I mean, I am a serial blog starter, and I find it obnoxious. But I wanted a place where I could talk about anything I wanted-- didn't have to be food and didn't have to come with pictures of Bria (but could definitely include those things too!). So we can call this my hybrid blog. Anyway, hi! I project this blog has a life span of either four months or four years.
So. Let's talk Thanksgiving real quick. I'm making the turkey for the first time! In fact, I have never roasted any sort of bird, and I'm super nervous. I am going to try brine (though I can't decide if I'll do wet or dry), and I am going to spatchcock that thing. The idea is to cut out the backbone of the turkey so you can lay it out flat and the legs will cook at the same rate as the breast. I'm terrified. But I bought new poultry shears, and I'm hoping I can channel my inner surgeon so I don't mind the sound of snapping bones.
A couple more random things about next Thursday:
I read these 10 Laws of Thanksgiving and loved them. I'm so excited and starting to feel all sorts of festive. (But I am a scrooge. Please let's not talk about Christmas until Friday, ok?)
If you're going to have green bean casserole, please volunteer to make it and follow this recipe, ok? Martha is Martha for a reason, and no one should eat canned green beans on Thanksgiving. Or ever.
Bria is most excited about the brussels sprouts. Like, even more than pie. I love that girl.
So. Let's talk Thanksgiving real quick. I'm making the turkey for the first time! In fact, I have never roasted any sort of bird, and I'm super nervous. I am going to try brine (though I can't decide if I'll do wet or dry), and I am going to spatchcock that thing. The idea is to cut out the backbone of the turkey so you can lay it out flat and the legs will cook at the same rate as the breast. I'm terrified. But I bought new poultry shears, and I'm hoping I can channel my inner surgeon so I don't mind the sound of snapping bones.
A couple more random things about next Thursday:
I read these 10 Laws of Thanksgiving and loved them. I'm so excited and starting to feel all sorts of festive. (But I am a scrooge. Please let's not talk about Christmas until Friday, ok?)
If you're going to have green bean casserole, please volunteer to make it and follow this recipe, ok? Martha is Martha for a reason, and no one should eat canned green beans on Thanksgiving. Or ever.
Bria is most excited about the brussels sprouts. Like, even more than pie. I love that girl.
Monday, November 12, 2012
In which I run 13.1 miles and wax philosophical
So, I ran a half marathon on Saturday. No big deal.
It's been on my life goal list for a while now, but I've never followed through. But when my exercise partner went out of town for the summer, and I heard my friends talking about running the Richmond half marathon, it felt like the perfect storm (in a good way). This year has been really, really hard, and I needed a project: something that would make me feel alive and would help me remember (or maybe learn) that I can do hard things. Earlier in the year, I never could have considered running the half, because I should have been eight months pregnant right now. When I started considering the half, I wondered if it would be possible because hopefully I would be 3+ months pregnant (again), but I figured it would just be a good way to keep me exercising during that sluggish first trimester-- I definitely worried about having morning sickness on the day of the race. But now, here we are, and the only thing that made me nauseated on race day was my own nerves. I found a lot of catharsis in training-- there were plenty of runs when I was glad to be alone on the path so I could squeeze in a good cry while I ran. I thrived on thinking how proud I would be crossing that finish line.
My training was a little crazy. I was exercising consistently before signing up for the race, but I was not in running shape, and hadn't run more than 3 miles since high school. True to my nature, I procrastinated starting the training, so for the first few weeks, my long runs increased by two miles instead of one. But once I hit seven miles, I started feeling pretty good. I knew I would finish the half (even if I had to walk), and I also knew I never wanted to run another half marathon ever again. I skimped on plenty of my weekday runs, and even injured my hip and had to skip my 10 mile run. I had consistent knee pain the entire time, and got in the habit of icing my knees every night before bed. By the time I ran 11 miles, every. single. step. hurt. (I finally invested in some new shoes, which helped some.) As race day neared, I kept saying how nervous I felt, but when people asked why, I couldn't really come up with a good reason. I knew I was ready-- I think it was just the excitement and nerves of doing something I had never done before, and it felt like a big deal. (Plus, I had been nervous before every long run.) I was also feeling embarrassed about my pace and had to keep reminding myself that it didn't matter how slow I went-- even if it took me over 3 hours. All I wanted was to finish!
The night before the race I had this great philosophical moment. I realized that whenever I think of the various life goals I have (like running a half marathon) I imagine the Courtney who does those things to be without flaws. Like, when I finally achieve (blank), I'll finally be fit, be organized, never procrastinate, know what I want to do with my life, etc. (because obviously I couldn't achieve all those goals if I didn't!) But I realized, hey! I'm still the same Courtney who is running this half marathon. I'm still very unorganized, I'm too uptight, and I often feel like I have no idea what I am doing. But even with all that, I am still running a half marathon. So this Courtney, seriously flawed Courtney, can achieve anything. (Isn't this awesome and cheesy?) But also, I put in the work and I got better at something. It was really hard work, but it was also gradual, and I slowly got better. I mean, seriously, whoever thought 4 miles would be considered a "short run"?
The day of the race was awesome. I was still feeling embarrassed about my speed, and I was trying hard not to make self-deprecating comments to my friends. But I was also feeling pumped! We got to the starting line, took a group picture, and it wasn't too long before we were off! I started my running tracker, to tell me when to take walking breaks (1/4 mile about every 2.5 miles), and started up my AWESOME playlist (I spent hours fine-tuning that thing). The first song was rockin the suburbs by Ben Folds. Perfect. I got a huge grin on my face, and started off. Around three miles I got a little choked up. I thought to myself "I am running a half marathon!" and I couldn't believe it. The first five miles flew by-- I didn't want to take that first walking break, but I did knowing I needed to conserve energy. And my pace was super fast! I knew it was from the adrenaline, excitement, and the crowds of runners, but try as I might, I couldn't (and didn't really want to) slow down. Even after the second walking break, I flew through. We ran through Bryan park, and I knew the halfway mark wasn't too far off, where I could expect my awesome fan club to be cheering me on. Coming out of the park were some hills, and sure enough, there were Sam and Bria giving me that boost I needed to keep going. After my next walking break, my knees were really starting to bug me. I was keeping a pretty steady 10:20 pace, which was much faster than I was used to, and I knew that the walking and starting up again was particularly hard on my knees (a slower pace is more conducive to injuries), so it was important to keep going. But I got a little worn down. I had an energy gel, and just tried to keep moving, but I started thinking about how I still had five more miles to go. And that seemed like a lot. Until-- wait, no! I was wrong!! Somehow I had gotten mixed up, and here I was coming up on the 10-mile marker. It was like Christmas morning! I got choked up again, thinking about how far I had come (this happened again at mile 11 and mile 12). One last walking break, and I was on the home stretch. My last interval was 2.6 miles, and it went like lightning until mile 12. I thought that last mile would be the easiest, but I felt every step. My knees were really starting to hurt-- actually worse than they ever had before-- and I was starting to worry I was doing serious damage. We rounded a corner, and suddenly, there it was: mile marker 13. This was it! I was trying to keep it together, but as soon as I saw the finish line, I was like a blubbering baby. I was trying really hard to not sob, because that just seemed awkward, so I just focused on maxing my pace for that last .1. I focused so hard I forgot to even look for Sam and Bria in the crowds. And as I crossed the finish line, I looked at the clock and it was 2:29. I covered my eyes and limped out of the finish area while I tried not to cry too hard. I did it! And not only did I finish, but I smoked my goal with a respectable first-time finishing time!
So, will I ever run a half marathon again? Every day of training I swore I never would, but the actual race was so awesome, I can't say that I'm shutting the door completely.
It's been on my life goal list for a while now, but I've never followed through. But when my exercise partner went out of town for the summer, and I heard my friends talking about running the Richmond half marathon, it felt like the perfect storm (in a good way). This year has been really, really hard, and I needed a project: something that would make me feel alive and would help me remember (or maybe learn) that I can do hard things. Earlier in the year, I never could have considered running the half, because I should have been eight months pregnant right now. When I started considering the half, I wondered if it would be possible because hopefully I would be 3+ months pregnant (again), but I figured it would just be a good way to keep me exercising during that sluggish first trimester-- I definitely worried about having morning sickness on the day of the race. But now, here we are, and the only thing that made me nauseated on race day was my own nerves. I found a lot of catharsis in training-- there were plenty of runs when I was glad to be alone on the path so I could squeeze in a good cry while I ran. I thrived on thinking how proud I would be crossing that finish line.
My training was a little crazy. I was exercising consistently before signing up for the race, but I was not in running shape, and hadn't run more than 3 miles since high school. True to my nature, I procrastinated starting the training, so for the first few weeks, my long runs increased by two miles instead of one. But once I hit seven miles, I started feeling pretty good. I knew I would finish the half (even if I had to walk), and I also knew I never wanted to run another half marathon ever again. I skimped on plenty of my weekday runs, and even injured my hip and had to skip my 10 mile run. I had consistent knee pain the entire time, and got in the habit of icing my knees every night before bed. By the time I ran 11 miles, every. single. step. hurt. (I finally invested in some new shoes, which helped some.) As race day neared, I kept saying how nervous I felt, but when people asked why, I couldn't really come up with a good reason. I knew I was ready-- I think it was just the excitement and nerves of doing something I had never done before, and it felt like a big deal. (Plus, I had been nervous before every long run.) I was also feeling embarrassed about my pace and had to keep reminding myself that it didn't matter how slow I went-- even if it took me over 3 hours. All I wanted was to finish!
The night before the race I had this great philosophical moment. I realized that whenever I think of the various life goals I have (like running a half marathon) I imagine the Courtney who does those things to be without flaws. Like, when I finally achieve (blank), I'll finally be fit, be organized, never procrastinate, know what I want to do with my life, etc. (because obviously I couldn't achieve all those goals if I didn't!) But I realized, hey! I'm still the same Courtney who is running this half marathon. I'm still very unorganized, I'm too uptight, and I often feel like I have no idea what I am doing. But even with all that, I am still running a half marathon. So this Courtney, seriously flawed Courtney, can achieve anything. (Isn't this awesome and cheesy?) But also, I put in the work and I got better at something. It was really hard work, but it was also gradual, and I slowly got better. I mean, seriously, whoever thought 4 miles would be considered a "short run"?
The day of the race was awesome. I was still feeling embarrassed about my speed, and I was trying hard not to make self-deprecating comments to my friends. But I was also feeling pumped! We got to the starting line, took a group picture, and it wasn't too long before we were off! I started my running tracker, to tell me when to take walking breaks (1/4 mile about every 2.5 miles), and started up my AWESOME playlist (I spent hours fine-tuning that thing). The first song was rockin the suburbs by Ben Folds. Perfect. I got a huge grin on my face, and started off. Around three miles I got a little choked up. I thought to myself "I am running a half marathon!" and I couldn't believe it. The first five miles flew by-- I didn't want to take that first walking break, but I did knowing I needed to conserve energy. And my pace was super fast! I knew it was from the adrenaline, excitement, and the crowds of runners, but try as I might, I couldn't (and didn't really want to) slow down. Even after the second walking break, I flew through. We ran through Bryan park, and I knew the halfway mark wasn't too far off, where I could expect my awesome fan club to be cheering me on. Coming out of the park were some hills, and sure enough, there were Sam and Bria giving me that boost I needed to keep going. After my next walking break, my knees were really starting to bug me. I was keeping a pretty steady 10:20 pace, which was much faster than I was used to, and I knew that the walking and starting up again was particularly hard on my knees (a slower pace is more conducive to injuries), so it was important to keep going. But I got a little worn down. I had an energy gel, and just tried to keep moving, but I started thinking about how I still had five more miles to go. And that seemed like a lot. Until-- wait, no! I was wrong!! Somehow I had gotten mixed up, and here I was coming up on the 10-mile marker. It was like Christmas morning! I got choked up again, thinking about how far I had come (this happened again at mile 11 and mile 12). One last walking break, and I was on the home stretch. My last interval was 2.6 miles, and it went like lightning until mile 12. I thought that last mile would be the easiest, but I felt every step. My knees were really starting to hurt-- actually worse than they ever had before-- and I was starting to worry I was doing serious damage. We rounded a corner, and suddenly, there it was: mile marker 13. This was it! I was trying to keep it together, but as soon as I saw the finish line, I was like a blubbering baby. I was trying really hard to not sob, because that just seemed awkward, so I just focused on maxing my pace for that last .1. I focused so hard I forgot to even look for Sam and Bria in the crowds. And as I crossed the finish line, I looked at the clock and it was 2:29. I covered my eyes and limped out of the finish area while I tried not to cry too hard. I did it! And not only did I finish, but I smoked my goal with a respectable first-time finishing time!
So, will I ever run a half marathon again? Every day of training I swore I never would, but the actual race was so awesome, I can't say that I'm shutting the door completely.
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Trying to Make up for the past Nine Months
Last week was a doozy. I'm not even sure why, but Bria and I were both feelin' it. Perhaps it's the changing seasons and the new school routine, but we were both on edge for a while there. This week is better-- especially today. It could be because I am wearing a new shirt and nail polish. I always underestimate what a mood boost it is to feel put-together.
I was talking to Whitney today and mentioned a couple super fun things coming up. This year has been awful. Like, possibly the worst of my adult life. Extreme? Maybe. Accurate? Totally. But I have a ton of fun things to look forward to in the next couple weeks. Is the year trying to make it up to me? Here is its effort so far:
1. Cirque du Soleil on Saturday!
2. A conference featuring one of my favorite people ever. I'm totally starstruck
3. A staycation with Sam next weekend-- Bria will spend four days with her cousins!
4. An extended weekend trip to Madison to visit my besties, Elisa and Matt.
5. I'm running a half marathon? This will only be amazing if I actually accomplish it. (I think I can. I think I can.)
6. Thanksgiving is going to rock: Elisa, and my SIL Rachel and her partner Theresa are coming! We're renting a beach house in Ocean City too. It's going to rock.
7. Then it will be the holidays, and who can even be grumpy during the holidays??
I was talking to Whitney today and mentioned a couple super fun things coming up. This year has been awful. Like, possibly the worst of my adult life. Extreme? Maybe. Accurate? Totally. But I have a ton of fun things to look forward to in the next couple weeks. Is the year trying to make it up to me? Here is its effort so far:
1. Cirque du Soleil on Saturday!
2. A conference featuring one of my favorite people ever. I'm totally starstruck
3. A staycation with Sam next weekend-- Bria will spend four days with her cousins!
4. An extended weekend trip to Madison to visit my besties, Elisa and Matt.
5. I'm running a half marathon? This will only be amazing if I actually accomplish it. (I think I can. I think I can.)
6. Thanksgiving is going to rock: Elisa, and my SIL Rachel and her partner Theresa are coming! We're renting a beach house in Ocean City too. It's going to rock.
7. Then it will be the holidays, and who can even be grumpy during the holidays??
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
Motivate
I signed up to run a half marathon.
. . .
Yes. I. Did.
I can't believe it. (I know, I know, there are people out there who run full-fledged marathons.) But this a big, huge, fat deal for me. I've said I would run one forever, but I haven't run consistently since high school cross country. I have exercised consistently every day for the last year, so I feel like I'm coming from a good place to start, plus I have friends running it too. And I want to do this. I know it will be hard, but I know I will be so, so proud of myself if I do it.
When I was finishing my 3-miler yesterday, I started thinking, "yeah, girl! you got it! you can totally do this!" and then I thought "but a half marathon is ten miles longer than this." And it kind of made me want to cry. Obviously I instantly realized this was a bad way to view things. I am working my way up, baby! So what if I can only run 4-5 miles right now? It's like I tell Bria every time she complains about walking anywhere: if you keep going when you're tired, that's what makes you stronger.
When I registered for the race, it asked if I wanted a nickname printed on my bib. I deliberated on it for a couple minutes and then settled on "McPhie." It's what my sisters and I say to ourselves when we need to stoke that Scottish fire coursing through our veins: "You can do it, McPhie!" I have a feeling I'm going to be saying that a lot over the next two months while I train. You can do it, McPhie!
. . .
Yes. I. Did.
I can't believe it. (I know, I know, there are people out there who run full-fledged marathons.) But this a big, huge, fat deal for me. I've said I would run one forever, but I haven't run consistently since high school cross country. I have exercised consistently every day for the last year, so I feel like I'm coming from a good place to start, plus I have friends running it too. And I want to do this. I know it will be hard, but I know I will be so, so proud of myself if I do it.
When I was finishing my 3-miler yesterday, I started thinking, "yeah, girl! you got it! you can totally do this!" and then I thought "but a half marathon is ten miles longer than this." And it kind of made me want to cry. Obviously I instantly realized this was a bad way to view things. I am working my way up, baby! So what if I can only run 4-5 miles right now? It's like I tell Bria every time she complains about walking anywhere: if you keep going when you're tired, that's what makes you stronger.
When I registered for the race, it asked if I wanted a nickname printed on my bib. I deliberated on it for a couple minutes and then settled on "McPhie." It's what my sisters and I say to ourselves when we need to stoke that Scottish fire coursing through our veins: "You can do it, McPhie!" I have a feeling I'm going to be saying that a lot over the next two months while I train. You can do it, McPhie!
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