October Homeschool Lesson Plans

Our schedule seems to be working very well so we will stick with it.

One thing I learned last month is that her assigned reading went WAY too quick. I had planned to spend the whole month on the book Princess. That would not only give her time to read the big long adult book but time to discuss it. Unfortunately (?) she read the entire book in two days.

*blink blink*

Hadn’t anticipated that at all. We had discussion around it then I was stuck with no book for the rest of the month. I ended up downloading Virginia Hamilton’s The House of Dies Dreer for her on her little iTouch and…she loved it and breezed through it relatively quickly. LESSON LEARNED. Anticipate going through about a book or two a week. Whew.

I sat down with Thomas and we planned out some themes around this month, of course, all having to do with Halloween. He suggested The House of Seven Gables by Nathanial Hawthorne and we can all read it together each night. Then I suggested Something Wicked This Way Comes by Ray Bradbury. Those are her two “big heavy” reads. To intersperse with those I will select a few short stories from our HP Lovecraft collection as well as the following:

Goddess Girls – Athena The Brain (A short light fun one that keeps with the Greek and Roman theme she has to study).

Half Magic by Edward Eager – Another short fun one for her to enjoy.

For the two days I will be out of town in Tampa, I picked up the newest Geronimo Stilton The Fourth 

Adventure In The Kingdom of Fantasy The Dragon Prophecy and also in the Geronimo Stilton Series a Creepella Von Caklefur one called Return of the Vampire. I will wrap both these up and she will get to open one each day while I am gone.

Her poems this month will be:

The Three Witches from MacBeth by William Shakespeare

The Ghost of a Flower by Anonymous

Advice From Dracula by Kenn Nesbitt

Oh My Darling, Frankenstein by Kenn Nesbitt

Hey, Ma, There’s Something Under My Bed by Joan Horton

We will continue to read and discuss a variety of Greek and Roman topics. We will also continue our nightly Mythbusters episodes with Thomas for science.

Her science projects this month will be:

Growing a pumpkin – I have directions to take a small pumpkin and cut the top off. Instead of scooping out the insides, you fill it with some dirt and a little water then tend it and the seeds inside are supposed to sprout and grow a pumpkin vine.

Vanishing Ghost Peeps – I bought a package of the ghost Peeps and we will take some large plastic see through cups. She will put water in one, vinegar in another, apple juice in a third, soda in a fourth and home made slime in a fifth. Then she will place a ghost Peep in each one and monitor them all week to see which one (if any) dissolves first then we will discuss why.

Wint-O-Green Lifesaver Sparks – We will test the myth that if you chew Wint-O-Green Lifesavers in the dark you will see sparks.

Art Class / Craft Projects this month will be:

PUMPKIN CARVING OF COURSE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! J

We have some various little Halloween craft things to do this month from the craft store.

I picked up paper mache sugar skull masks and we will discuss the Day of the Dead and make our own masks. We’ll probably watch Scooby Doo Monster From Mexico just for fun that night.

We will continue with our Sunday night special dinners and our Think Math and Word Jar. She is really enjoying her picture prompts and her creative writing is seriously blowing me away, especially her vocabulary. The picture I used below for this blog is one of the picture prompts she will get this month in keeping with the "spooky" theme. I will be in full swing doing two classes myself this month so most our evenings will be spent studying together and working on assignments and reading. 

Stay tuned for November when we start our Pagan Christmas study unit!

Race Report - My First Tri

I wasn’t sure how to write this race report. You see, if I tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth in detail…there will be three types of reactions. Those who are neutral to supportive. Those who look down on me and roll their eyes (those would be the douche bags) and then those who can use me as inspiration and motivation.  I supposed I have always been honest about my life (with a few irrelevant data adjustments for OPSEC reasons) so I’ll do it like this. I will start with a short summary of my race. Those who aren’t in this for the long haul will skim through that and move on. Then those who have shown interest in my journey can cuddle up and read the rest of the story. So. Here goes.

My first triathlon was amazing. I was so nervous and worried but I ended up doing great. Great means finishing. The 3^rd place in my division? That was just gravy and totally unexpected. It was hard but it really was harder mentally than physically….those who do these crazy things (run, tri, or bike) will get that. But, all in all, it was awesome. And I can’t wait for the next one!

Okay. Now for the details:

I spent the last nine months stressing, worry and otherwise being a tremendous wuss about this triathlon. I had looked at the distances and KNEW I could do each one but put them all together? Wow. Hard but not impossible, I thought to myself. This was a huge thing for me for several reasons that I will spell out here:

1.       I am not a petit flower by ANY means. I have lost 70 pounds but probably  have about another 70 to go. I am (being blunt), fat. Yup. Fat. Heavy. And while I am in probably better shape than the average skinny couch potato Paris Hilton type, I have never considered myself an athlete.

2.       Three years ago, I could not run more than 30 seconds without going into panic and crying and being terrified my heart would explode. For those who don’t know, I had open heart surgery (double bypass) three years ago due to a complication from the radiation to my heart when I had cancer (Hodgekin’s Lymphoma) in college. So when my heart starts to beat fast and I get a little short of breath, I sometimes panic and flash back to when I had my heart attack that prompted the emergency surgery. Also, tremendous neck shoulder pain preceded the heart attack so any sort of pain in my shoulder also terrifies the heck out of me. 

3.       So. I am fat and not in the best shape. Now let’s add a slew of mental struggles related to being in an abusive marriage for 12 years.  While the training and my three years of struggle to loose weight and become more fit have helped, I still spent the days up to the race in absolute sheer terror that I would fail and then I would think that all the horrible things my ex said to me and told me I was were true. (Sure, easy to say they weren’t but trust me, emotionally I am still healing those scars). 

So. You had a short, fat, old lady who had signed up for a triathlon and was absolutely terrified.

I started the day at 0136. Yup. You read that right. Tried to get proper sleep but was so nervous I woke up at 0136 and could NOT get back to sleep. I finally left the house at 0458. Thomas called me and talked to me as I drove the hour to the site. I got there and felt like an idiot already. All these strong sexy athletes walking around. What the HELL was I doing here? Then I saw the 68 year old guy from the night before. And the 14 year old kid. And the few Clydesdales (those are the men who are over 200 pounds, they have their own division) and they weren’t all 200+ pounds of sexy muscle. Some of them were fat. Like me. And, oh! Look…some other women who are fat, too! Okay. Then I go to get my chip. No one said anything to me other than excited encouragement. No one said, “Uh, sorry, you shouldn’t be here.” Then I went to get my body marked and again….no one even blinked that I was there. Wow. At this point, all I have had to eat is my morning Shakeology shake because I am terrified to eat and puke (and I could only drink half the shake before I started to feel sick to my stomach). I had remembered EVERYTHING but my water bottle and so I had no water either. 

I took my bike out of the car and got my bucket. (I have a friend at work who does tris and he told me to get the big five gallon bucket from the hardware store instead of a bag because you could flip it over in transition and use it to sit on to dry your feet and change shoes.) I looked around at everyone with fancy bikes and those neat helmets and again felt like an idiot. I went inside to pee (I think I peed about 27 times I was so nervous before the race). When I got back to the transition area, there were more people. I met a nice older man who had a broken foot. He told me he was probably going to have to walk the run portion. Wow. Okay. Then I met Jason. A short, handsome, 25 year old guy. His bike was next to mine and he was so nervous because this was his first time, too. He was getting his stuff set up and suddenly realized he had forgotten his goggles for the swim. I saw the look of panic on his face and told him I had a few spare pairs in the gym bag in my trunk if he wanted to borrow them. He was relieved and grateful and suddenly my new best friend.  More people started to arrive and finally the REAL athletes (those guys who look like in the ads with the bazillion dollar bikes and space age helmets) got there. And they all had their big plastic buckets. I was starting to feel like a dork for bringing a bucket but felt much better after  they arrived with theirs.

They closed the transition area (this is where you put your bike and all your gear) and we headed to the back deck of the pool area for the last meeting. Picture over 300 folks standing around in in their swimming ensembles in 51 degree weather as the sun comes up. Everything from guys who look like Michael Phelps to…well….women who look like me. We were all cold but in it together. As soon as the meeting was over we all slipped inside to warm up. The pool swim portion was indoors and we leaned against the wall to wait to line up and my cycling coach who was doing it with me looked down (he’s freakishly tall) and asked how I was. And I promptly burst into tears. He hugged me tight and said it would be okay and I sucked it up and we lined up. As we stood in line to wait to start we all started to talk and introduce ourselves. I was amazed at two things. How many first timers there were and how supportive everyone else was. I learned something important. Everyone else was so nervous they didn’t give a rat’s ass how big my ass was and there was this unspoken “we are all in this together” sense of all we want to do is finish. NO ONE I spoke to wanted to win lol they just wanted to finish. Jason was ahead of me and broken foot guy was behind me. As I got close to my start I slipped my goggles on and the entire weight of this hit me and I almost teared up. I thought “DO NOT cry with your goggles on or they will fill with tears!” and that stopped that. I looked up one last time into the stands where Captain Awesome was waiting to cheer me on, they told me go, and I went. 

I had practiced my swimming but realized early on in my training that I did not have the endurance to swim that whole distance freestyle. I checked and found out they didn’t care if you did doggy paddle so long as you got from one end to the other and back. I had put together a weird combination of breast stroke (which I was good at) and alternated it with side stroke and back stroke. Each time I went under the flags I switched to freestyle for that last few yards to get a little speed in there. Broken foot guy passed me on the second lane. It was okay though because he was just faster. I was a little shocked when he passed muscular in shape hottie Jason though. I never quite caught up to Jason but I saw he (and several others) had to pause at the wall before starting another lap because they were tired. Wow. I didn’t have to stop once so even though I was slow, that made me proud. As we were headed towards each other in the next to last lane I could see Jason was really struggling. He had lost the nice freestyle and was doing this ragged arm over arm but no face in the water stroke and you could just see how hard it was for him. I glided by and as I came up for air between my breast strokes I said to him (he was less than a foot away coming towards me) “You got this Jason! You’re almost done!” I heard him gasp a thanks before I went back under. 

I finished my own swim, climbed out with the ladder and burst out the door into the cold. HOLY CRAP it was cold. I had never felt this wobbly but when I looked at my times later I realized that I had MAJORLY PR’d my swim time in a big way without trying. That and the adrenaline and trying to run left me wobbly. I sort of run walked up the little hill and entered the transition area. The bike was my worst part and I just kept telling myself to get through the bike and the run would be no problem. I geared up and off I went.

This had to have been the hardest part of the entire thing and this is where I think I shed 12 years of a lot of shit. Somewhere along that road lies a whole bunch of crap that had been weighing me down and I know exactly where I stopped and dumped the BIGGEST part of it.

The bike course was extraordinarily hilly. I looked at the results later and saw a few people who never even finished it. The first five miles were hard but not too bad. I had to walk the first huge hill because my legs were still shaking from the swim. I was the very dead last person and never saw a single racer on the bike portion other than myself. Halfway up the first huge hill when I had to get off to walk, I heard this noise behind me and almost jumped out of my skin. You see, the first five miles were on a highway. Trucks and cars used that thing at amazing high speeds and the main reason I had never tried to ride it prior to the race is because it terrified me. I realized the noise was the thrum of a Honda Goldwing and the volunteer who was riding at the rear of the race. I managed to get over the next few hills on my own and then had to walk the fourth when my legs gave out halfway up. Goldwing slowed down and putted along behind me as I struggled up that hill. Just make it halfway. You can do this. I kept cheering myself on and remembering every word of encouragement I had been given. I had no music (against the rules) so all I had was the thrum of the Goldwing, the rush of traffic whizzing by and the occasional voice of my Nike Run app telling me when I had ticked off another quarter mile. I finally made the turn at five miles and it went immediately uphill and didn’t stop. FUCK. Fuck fuck fuck. I had to get off again after valiantly attempting to ride as far up as I could. And I could still hear Goldwing. Thrumthrumthruming along behind me. Sigh. I suck. But I kept trudging up the hill. I think the next mile was uphill and on I trudged, pushing my bike. I tried a few times to get on and I couldn’t get it to move. Almost fell once. Tried again and wobbled into the grass. Tried a third time and my wheel went wobbly and caught the edge of my toe and almost dumped me. I stopped and put my head down on the handle bars. Too tired to cry. Then I took a deep breath and started to walk. Finally made it up the hill and got on towards the top and wobble peddled to the top then crested and coasted down. Whew. I struggled through a few more hills. Rode up as far as I could then got off and walked. All this time the Goldwing thrummed along slowly behind me. I felt SO stupid and so slow and so fat and so out of place. I kept wanting to turn around to tell Goldwing I was sorry for making him (her?) putt along behind me. And that’s where I dumped the biggest piece of baggage I had been carrying. Instead of hearing douche bag’s voice in my head I heard Thomas so very loud and very clear:

“ NEVER apologize for doing your best.”

And….I didn’t. That’s where I dumped a huge load of bullshit I had been carrying around. I have no idea if Goldwing was male or female. I have no idea if they were annoyed or inspired. I have no idea because I never turned around to look at them or speak to them. The purr of that Goldwing was like this weird guardian angel and it helped me worry less about getting hit by a car on that twisty hilly little back lane road. There were times I was a streak and times I just plodded along on a flat and times I walked uphill pushing my bike in front of me. Times I had to just stop, take a deep breath and then start again. When I got to the last mile, I knew as soon as I crested the hill it would be all downhill from there and I was elated. I was almost a triathlete. The worst part would soon be over and as I came down that last mile stretch and the sun shone and the streams burbled as I rode over the bridges and the trees were pretty and it was just so fucking awesome. I turned into the lot and headed to the transition area and by my watch had finished the ride within the allotted time but way last. My cycling coach was waiting for me there and full of praise and encouragement. I grabbed my visor and number and headed out to start my run. There was a water table right at the start and as I had not drank anything on the ride I grabbed two cups of water. Drank one but hard to run without spilling the other so after a few sips I dumped it and tossed it. I knew there were water stations at each mile so figured I would get some at the next table. I crossed over the little bridge and paused to empty the rocks from my shoes. Yeah….see, I had gotten rocks in my shoes that had been stuck to my feet after running up through the grass and dirt and across the parking lot from the swim to the bike. I had gone that whole ride with them in there but really…needed them out before I did the run. Rocks out. Okay…come around the corner and almost stopped. 

The water table was…folded down and put away. I scanned around and realized I was so far back there were no other runners and they had taken down the water tables. Wow. Okay. Deep breath. Just do it. I started my run and was SO freaking pleased with it and a little annoyed there was no one there to see I was RUNNING for fuck’s sake. I had just done that swim and that ride and FAT girl was running (slow but still…) RUNNING. Sigh. I kept running. I finished the first mile and saw three ladies running towards me across the field. I recognized one as one of the race directors. Great. They were coming to tell me to just stop and not bother. Sigh. But no….they had water! Lol They gave me a bottle of water, told me how awesome I was and to keep going! Wow. So I did. All by myself. The only one on the course. On and on I went. Quite pleased with myself at how much I was able to run this (SO glad I did those longer runs in the weeks leading up). I finished the first big loop / lap and as I started the second I heard this voice call out that they had more cold water. This woman dashed up to me and brought me a fresh bottle of cold water and asked if she could walk/run the rest with me. She was a volunteer and didn’t want me to have to be alone. I accepted her company and she started to chitter chatter while we ran walked along. She was so full of encouragement and praise and while normally I find that annoying, seeing as that my brain was in an altered state, I welcomed it. Then one of the other race guys showed up on a bike to tell me I was almost done and to keep going. So I did. About halfway through the second loop something happened to me that had never happened before. I cramped. At first I wasn’t sure what had happened but my right quad just seized up. What the heck? That was a new one. I supposed it shouldn’t have been a big shocker considering all I had eaten was a shake at 0430 and was most likely dehydrated but I was not expecting that. I felt it seize and slowed down and took the sport beans out of my little running belt and ate the tiny sample packet while drinking more water and walked it through. The cramp went away and I was able to pick back up the pace. As I ran the last little bit around the corner before the uphill to the finish I see my cycling coach. He had stayed! Wow. He runs up to me in his socks and sandals and holding his plaque (he won 2^nd in his division) he is so excited. He runs the last little bit up with me and then stops and bows and I run the last few yards over the finish line. 

I was so stunned I was done I was speechless. Everyone was hugging me (and I had no clue who these people were). They were calling me by name and bringing me Gatorade. The one director put a medal around my neck and the next thing I know another guy has his arm around me and is handing me the plaque for third place in my division while they are taking pictures. Seems there were four of us and one woman couldn’t make it through the bike so just by finishing, I won 3^rd.

If I wasn’t stunned enough at just finishing (and I didn’t puke, fall down or pass out once) I was honestly stunned at the amount of people who came up to me at the end and shook my hand, congratulated me and welcomed me to “the club”. I will never forget the older man who I had last seen on the deck of the pool telling me to just relax and do my best. He was at the end and he came up to me and said, “You are a triathlete.”

Wow. I am still kind of stunned. Most the crowd was gone. The food was all gone (I did get Gatorade and potato chips though).  When you looked down the hill into the transition area, all the racks were down except the one with my bike on it all alone, a white bucket and towel lying underneath it. 

I am continuously amazed at the support of the people in the running (and now triathlon) community. I had once thought they would all be those asshole jocks we remember from high school. Sure, I have stumbled on a few here and there but I think they are just assholes in general and it has nothing to do with their athletic ability. Not once in that entire race did I ever feel like a looser. I felt slow. And tired, Scared. Exhausted. Worried. But never once like a looser. I never thought of myself as an athlete before. I do now. I may not be good. I may never be the best. But I am pretty damn amazing anyway.

I’ll end with the man I meet on deck waiting to enter the water. A middle age black man. He had a fancy tri suit on with words and pictures so he looked all legit. But his number was behind me which made no sense because he could not be slower than me. Then I looked above his number on his arm and saw it. The M Dot tattoo. (Some of you know what I am talking about). Holy Crap. I was going to tell M Dot he just needed to go ahead and get in front of me now and he said the director had actually lined him up about five people in front of me. I must have looked confused then I asked, “Are you an Iron Man?” He replied yes and I asked why he was placed so far back with us newbies and slow people and he smiled and shrugged and said, “I have done Iron Man. I have finished Iron Man. But I am not particularly fast or good. All I do is try.”

Wow. I like my race t-shirt. On the back above all the sponsors it says, “We dare you to tri.”

I took the dare and I did it. And I am so glad I did.

September Homeschool Lesson Plans

I often get asked about home schooling and what kind of things we teach, lesson plans, etc. I decided to share my monthly lesson plans here for this school year.

P is currently officially registered with the local school system as a third grader. She is, however at varying levels in her skills so that will explain why her reading assignments may seem off or her math is a bit advanced. For "PE" she has been in gymnastics since she was two. She loves it and is on the pre-team this year so that will be continuing. She also loves to run and has completed many 5ks and a 4 miler. She'd really like to try an 8k next year so she and I will continue to run together and she will continue her Saturday mornings with her personal trainer for strength and speed and simple fitness. In addition to that, she plays golf (camper of the week this year, won the putting contest and longest drive contest, thank you) so she will continue to play golf and we are actually going to start playing as a family as we have a foursome all together (Merlin, Endora, Me and P). Her "socialization" is well covered through her sports but in addition to that she will also be attending Cotillion again this year as she loves dressing up and going to the classes and dances.

As to the arts, we take her to shows and performances at the Kennedy Center, concerts, and art shows/exhibits. We also do regular "art class" together as I have a background as an artist and have actually taught in the schools before as a guest.

We break her academics out as such:

Endora handles math for the most part and uses the Saxon Math curriculum. P is currently working through the fourth grade material (having started several weeks ago because she was so excited and didn't want to wait any longer). She also handles the basic mechanics of English language such as parts of speech, spelling and sentence structure etc.

Merlin is the History and Science Wizard. He is the one that teaches her to blow things up, make big messes to learn and he spends significant time with history (he studied that in college). Merlin and Endora actually just returned from taking P to see Jamestown and she had a blast and learned so much. He is huge into field trips and getting out IN the field and seeing or touching history. We are so fortunate to live here in the Nation's capital with all sorts of opportunities to see history up close and personal.

My job is to put together the framework for the year based on the Standards of Learning but ALSO based on what I think she needs to know and learn. I get significant feedback and suggestions from Merlin & Endora (and P as well) so we do teach the Standards but then go way above and beyond.

Because I work a full time job as a Senior Executive, I essentially work on projects or "reinforcement" types of things. So I look at what Endora is teaching her then I will come home from work and sit down with her and we will do something to reinforce that concept or idea. Think of me as a tutor or homework buddy type of person only I come up with and assign the "homework". I also handle a majority of the culture and social studies and religion as Merlin and Endora both defer to me being the expert in those areas (compared to them).

So, with no further delay, my September lesson plans for me and P are as follows (this is above and beyond what Merlin and Endora are doing with her during the day while I work):

Monday nights are tough because I lift with Captain Awesome those nights and do not get home until about 2030. Therefore, I wanted to go with an "easy" hand out type of thing where we could mostly just do something and chat but there is no real "work". So, on Mondays, I will hand out her Creative Writing Photo Prompt. I have created a Creative Writing Photo Prompt Album on my Facebook page for those who wish to use these pics to work with their kids. She will tape it on the left side of her interactive notebook and then on the right she will write a one page story that is inspired by the picture.

Tuesdays are usually more relaxed and I can get home straight from work. That leaves us more time so Tuesday night is poetry and running :)

One of the things I love about Thomas is how much he has taught me about poetry and I would love to pass that along to her. She loves the poetry of Shel Silverstein and some others and last year we did a thing where she copied one poem a week for handwriting practice and she loved some of those from Sandburg, Wadsworth and Cummings. The three poems for September 10th, 17th, and 24th are:

Phenomenal Woman by Maya Angelou
Dream Within A Dream by Edgar Allen Poe
The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost

We will read each poem together and discuss it. She will tape it on the left side of her interactive notebook and then on the right she will draw a picture that is inspired by the poem.

We will also start to read the book:

Princess: A True Story of Life Behind the Veil in Saudi Arabia by Jean Sasson

"Sultana is a Saudi Arabian princess, a woman born to fabulous, uncountable wealth. She has four mansions on three continents, her own private jet, glittering jewels, designer dresses galore. But in reality she lives in a gilded cage. She has no freedom, no control over her own life, no value but as a bearer of sons. Hidden behind her black floor-length veil, she is a prisoner, jailed by her father, her husband, her sons, and her country.Sultana is a member of the Saudi royal family, closely related to the king. For the sake of her daughters, she has decided to take the risk of speaking out about the life of women in her country, regardless of their rank. She must hide her identity for fear that the religous leaders in her country would call for her death to punish her honesty. Only a woman in her position could possibly hope to escape from being revealed and punished, despite her cloak and anonymity.Sultana tells of her own life, from her turbulent childhood to her arranged marriage--a happy one until her husband decided to displace her by taking a second wife--and of the lives of her sisters, her friends and her servants. Although they share affection, confidences and an easy camaraderie within the confines of the women's quarters, they also share a history of appaling oppressions, everyday occurrences that in any other culture would be seen as shocking human rights violations; thirteen-year-old girls forced to marry men five times their age, young women killed by drowning, stoning, or isolation in the "women's room," a padded, windowless cell where women are confined with neither light nor conversation until death claims them.By speaking out, Sultana risks bringing the wrath of the Saudi establishment upon her head and te heads of her children. But by telling her story to Jean Sasson, Sultana has allowed us to see beyond the veils of this secret society, to the heart of a nation where sex, money, and power reign supreme." ~Amazon

I think it is terribly important for P to understand people. Of all races, cultures, creeds, genders and religions. I want her to learn to appreciate what she has and has access to and recognize that not everyone else has that same life.  This is an excellent book and both my step sons read it as well.  We will read the book together and discuss it as we do.

Wednesdays are often busy as every other week I see my psychologist that night. For the Weds nights I see him, I get home too late and it's just cuddle and a show time. But for those I don't, we will be holding a production meeting for our BIG science project that will take all year long to do. This one is a secret though so I can't tell any more.

Thursdays are a hodge podge so we will alternate a "Hogwarts" topic, a science experiment or some other small assignment. For September we have:

6th - Hogwarts - Learning about the concept of Chakras and Qi.
13th - Synonym Sun - a small craft project using paint swatches from the hardware store to reinforce the concept of synonyms.
20th - the glow in the dark bottle of Mountain Dew experiment. This is actually a dud. When I Googled the "why" as to how it worked so I could teach her that, I learned it didn't work and was a "fool's errand" according to Snopes. I almost cancelled it but then thought it would be a good idea to teach her not to believe everything she reads and about Snopes as a reference.
27th - I have a nifty word search puzzle for the states of matter. Essentially, it is a regular word search but she will have to FIRST determine what state of matter the word is (ie fog, ocean, chocolate, vapor, soda) THEN she will have to find the word and highlight it with a certain color (blue for liquid, yellow for gas, green for solid).

Fridays are also busy and I train and get home late so we have a simple "Think Math" problem only. I made up some cute strips of paper with the ANSWER to a word problem on them (with cute little pictures) and she has to make up the problem. It's short and sweet but fun and ties back into the math she is doing with Endora.

Her Think Maths for September are:

9 Cupcakes
3 Milkshakes
36 French Fries
2 1/2 Pizzas

Saturday is a busy day. We both go to the gym first thing in the morning but the afternoon is usually open enough to allow us time to watch a movie or video that goes with a theme we are working on. 

8th - The Greeks - Crucible of Civilization - The Revolution
15th - The Greeks - Crucible of Civilization - The Golden Age
22nd - The Greeks - Crucible of Civilization - Empire of the Mind

Sundays are nice. We do make a huge family dinner together and she and I like to cook and plan and shop for that. It's also arts and crafts day so each Sunday we will do a little something fun together:

2nd/3rd - Back to School Apple Cupcakes
9th - Crayon Hearts (a crayon and wax paper stained glass project)
16th - Drawing Prompt: Draw the fanciest most expensive dessert you can imagine!
23rd - Drawing Prompt: Put together your own still life and then draw it.
30th - Bird Seed Wreath for the fall to put out for the birds.

Every day: P's vocabulary is immense. She tested about 11th grade level for reading on her last test through the school system. I came up with the idea of a word jar and Thomas actually suggested we use BIG words. SAT words in it. So, we did. Pulled the list of top 100 SAT words and sat down and wrote them all out on little bright neon slips of paper. She love love LOVES her word jar and we had to start it early as she kept BEGGING to do a word a day. I finally caved. She runs and sticks her hand in and pulls out a paper and unfolds it. Then she tapes the slip on the left side of her interactive notebook and looks up and writes down the definition of the word. At the end of the year, I will pull all the slips out and put them BACK in the jar. Then we will start all over again. If she pulls the slip and knows the word, pass, no further work. If she has forgotten it, she will simply look it up again and redefine it.

And there it is. September Homeschool for P. I have already started to plan October so will share that when we get to it.

My Heart Attack

Four years ago today, I had a heart attack.

I had cancer in college and the tumor was wrapped around my heart. Radiation "cured" me but unbeknowst to us, it had scarred the arteries of my heart.  Fast forward to four years ago. I had felt terrible for a few years, struggled increasingly to exercise. I was miserable. Felt bad all the time. Had no energy AND was married to db on top of all that so you can imagine. I remember I had been in serious pain most the day. It felt like my neck and left shoulder were on fire. I also felt sick to my stomach and light headed. I had no idea I was having a heart attack and true to my nature I just plowed through the day until it got worse that night. I remember distinctly thinking....knowing something was wrong. I struggled to make the decision to go to the hospital. db, as always, scoffed at me. Rolled his eyes. Told me it was just me being fat and out of shape. Minimized it all as usual and instead of comforting me left me to suck it up and deal with whatever. I remember being in the shower and struggling. It hurt. I felt really bad. I knew I needed to go but dreaded telling him. I decided to wait until he fell asleep. He did and I wrote a note on a piece of notebook paper torn out of a composition book. I remember using a black sharpie to scribble out that I had just gone over to the hospital to check it out and would probably be back before he was even awake.

I was already minimizing myself as I drove. Feeling stupid for making a fuss and going to the emergency room. But I really felt bad :(  So I drove myself over in the middle of the heart attack. They checked me in and ran some tests and broke the news to me. Ma'am. You were having a heart attack.  I was gobsmacked. Interestingly enough, I didn't call home to tell db. I called my mom and told her. She came out to the hospital at 0200 and then drove to my house to wake him up and tell him and check on P.

The doctors had no idea WHY I had a heart attack so they decided to bundle me up and send me over to Fairfax hospital for a catheterization. They made light of it and said most likely they would find nothing and I would be headed home the next day. No biggie. They put me under and I went to sleep. I remember very fuzzy impressions of coming out of it and wondering why it felt like there was a paper sack in my chest. The doctor leaned down to my ear and told me that they had discovered my scarred arteries and one was blocked so bad an emergency bypass was needed. Another was blocked about 50% so they thought it best to deal with that also so it would be a double bypass. I was so out of it and still half under anesthesia and just responded mumbled okays to it all. I was too drugged up to even be scared. Last I recall, they told me the surgeon was flying in and that thing I felt was a balloon in my chest keeping me alive. Then it all went black again.

I woke up in ICU with a tube down my throat. It was awful but I remembered stories of people struggling against tubes and how that made it worse so was able to stay calm and they noticed I was awake. I used my fingers to communicate yes or no to their answers then fell back asleep. I woke up a few more times and managed to stay calm with the tube in but it was a struggle. Finally they said they would take it out and I was so happy. That may have also been the single most yucky incident of my life having that thing pulled out of me. It was horrible.

The next day they moved me to a room and I started to get the story. I learned that if I had waited eight more hours I would have dropped dead on the spot. I felt lucky and terrified all at the same time. I had to regain my legs, stand again, learn how to dress myself etc. I wasn't allowed to brush my hair or lift my arms up. It hurt and I still had tubes sticking out of me all over but I felt better than I had in a long time. The first thing everyone remarked on was my colour. I actually had color in my cheeks again.

One thing I will never forget is Thomas. My mom came to me after db had left one day and asked who this Thomas person was. He had heard through a mutual friend what happened and actually called my mom. I remember my mom said he sounded worried and concerned. I'll never forget that. Thomas even sent me a rose. One single rose. I remember feeling a little guilty when it arrived at the house. I was afraid it would piss db off so I threw away the card and pretended it was from a work friend. Of course, I stopped feeling bad when db never got me a flower or flowers. I was his wife. I had almost died. Thomas sent me that from around the world and db couldn't be bothered to do the dishes in the sink or tidy the house or do laundry while I was in the hospital so it would all be there waiting for me? I think I knew deep in my heart it was over then. Silly maybe but true. There were a few other incidents during my recovery that seem like forewarning looking back. Anyway. I went to cardio rehab and tried to go back to the gym but didn't get much traction. Finally....finally came the separation and that's when I went back to the gym and met Captain Awesome.

When I started with him, I was 70 pounds heavier and absolutely terrified to run or make my heart beat fast. Terrified. The first time on the treadmill, I ran 30 seconds and then literally burst into tears. He has been so patient with me. 30 seconds here. A minute there. Slow and steady he has helped me build my confidence. He once told me that my body was easy to train....my brain was a bigger challenge.

Laying on that table four years ago hearing I was going to have a double bypass, I never in a million years imagined I would be where I was today. Single. Happy. Training for a triathlon (I would have laughed my ass off if you told me that). Able to run for several minutes at a time. A number of 5ks under my belt. And my Thomas. My wonderful Thomas. He has been there for me all along. Even when I didn't know. I often think to myself that event was my rebirth. My awakening. My second chance. So much of what I do now is because I never want to regret not having tried. I never want to regret not indulging or exploring or loving or living again. I lost twelve years of my life and almost lost my actual life with a man who did not love or cherish or treasure me. Never again. Never.

It was about this time, four years ago, that I was laying on a surgery table with a balloon in my chest keeping me alive as a surgeon flew to fix me.  Today, to celebrate my life, I lace up and go out for a run. It may not be swift and it may not be far but it sure as hell is amazing when you consider what could have been the alternative.

Hail Me.
07/16/2012

And So It Begins...

I sit here, for the first time in years, at my drafting table.

It has been a moving day for me. Passions evoked. Creativity awakened. Sleep rubbed from my third eye and a huge astral stretch.

As I type this, I listen to a CD that Alpha gave me. A plain mirrored shiny disc that simply says "D & B".

I have never heard this kind of music at length. He gave it to me in the parking lot last night, sliding it from the warmth of his own car CD player and placing it in my hands. We had sat in the conference room sharing samples of our music collections and discussing the various kinds of genres. Once upon a time in college (and maybe high school, I never really asked for a time frame) he was a DJ. He still has an ear for music. Again, this is not the kind of music I have ever listened to but I like it. Do I like it because he does? Because he gave it to me so it has his essence? His presence? Perhaps. Do I like it because douche bag would HATE it with a passion I am sure would evoke at least one piece of broken furniture or hole in the wall? Maybe. **insert shy little smile here**  Do I like it because there is this odd hypnotic quality to it that is sort of zen soothing? Yes. Yes...that was my first thought when it started:

I could draw to this.

That brings me to the jist of today's blog.

I took today off and took P to the Artomatic Art show in Crystal City. I have been contemplating getting space next year and showing some work but wasn't quite sure if I was good enough or could hold my own in a show like that. For those not familiar with my art background, I have actually been drawing since the age of about five. I still remember the day my mom gave me one of those old ledger coloured pencils... red on one end, blue on the other, and a little memo book. We were taking a long car drive and back when I was a kid there were no hand held electronic devices, walkmans, DvD players in cars etc. Your only options were to incessantly annoy your brother with the "I'm not touching you!!!!" game, "Stop looking out MY window" game, or a REAL poke war (y'all kids on Facebook don't know a real poke war unless you were stuck in a car with a sibling for more than three hours bored out of your skull).

I settled down bored (my little brother was too young to antagonize at that point) and started to "doodle". I filled up pages and pages with my abstract line maze complicated drawings and when we got to our destination and my mother looked at my cute little doodles, she flipped out. Literally. She showed them to me dad and he sort of freaked out too. That was the first day I ever heard the word "artist". And they were both convinced I was the next Picasso.

Thus began an endless round of art classes and private instruction. I have learned under some amazing people. I took a year of private Chinese brush painting lessons where I learned to grind my own ink and paint traditional Chinese landscapes, flowers, etc. I even have a first place winner from the Miami Dade County Fair for one of those pieces I did in high school. I studied at the Biltmore Hotel in Miami with the local artists there. I attended the school of the performing arts for art and dance. I have won several contests growing up, had my picture in the paper, etc etc etc. I was on my way to becoming a "real artist".

It's a long story to go into why I did not make it a formal career. Mostly because I like money and the stuff I can do with it and I am not that good an artist to make that kind of money. I am average. There are people way better than me and people who suck way more ass than I do. So....average.

When I got married, I got a drafting table and tried to set up my own little studio. Mostly just for fun because I find art soothing and relaxing and sort of like a zen time with myself. It's sort of a mental yoga to me. And, on the plus side, I come up with some neat pieces every so often.

But...I tried to create and draw and paint while married to the douche bag and it fizzled. I just couldn't. Years later, I have learned from my shrink that being in an abusive relationship can stiffle or even KILL creativity outright. And that's what happened. I dried up and slowly suffocated. Mentally and emotionally. It turned to dust. I learned all this when once I was free, one of the first things I felt moved to do was DRAW again. Since then I have felt it returning. Slowly, tentatively. I started designing my own tattoo ink work. Drawing on my experience and my wisdom. Slowly it started to blossom. Today it all broke loose.

I walked through the exhibit and with each artist I felt the last of the broken shards of my toxic marriage fall away. My brain was swirling with ideas and thoughts and pieces and it was like suddenly flipping a flood light on and illuminating a stage. I have so many ideas and it just felt like...time. Time to pick up where I was abducted. Time to pick back up and allow all this amazing passionate art inside me to flow.  Time to finish being me. Not the Stepford Wife I was...and almost died as. But this quirky erotic intelligent kinky brilliant sexy cute sweet fun creative dynamo that I am...and always have been...

I am so glad I saved her.

Tonight I came down and dusted off my drafting table. Yes. There was dust on it. I arranged my pencils and pens and markers. I pulled out my portfolio of recent work and started to go through it and everything feels so good and right. With the hypnotic heartbeat of D&B pulsing through the early summer evening I uncap my pen....place it's plump wet dark nib to the fresh white cold pressed virgin paper and begin...

** Side Note: The D&B refers to "Drum and Bass". For those not familiar with this genre, Wikipedia defines it as "Drum and bass (/ˈdrʌm ənd ˈbeɪs/) (also written as drum 'n' bass and commonly abbreviated to D&B, D+B or DnB) is a type of electronic music which emerged in the mid 1990s. The genre is characterized by fast breakbeats (typically between 160–180 bpm,^[1] occasional variation is noted in older compositions), with heavy bass and sub-bass lines. Drum and bass began as an offshoot of the United Kingdom rave scene of the very early 1990s. Over the first decade of its existence, the incorporation of elements from various musical genres led to many permutations in its overall style."

 

Dinner At The Iron Diner

Today was not such a good day.

Nothing in particular was wrong. Nothing went wrong. To be honest, things have been wonderful. Life is good. Training has been going better. Even my nutrition has improved and I lost a pound this last week. I am even having  fun planning a surprise party for NM with Alpha. We have been exchanging late night emails planning food and decorations and he even came up with the idea to have a movie together after dinner and suggested Sixteen Candles or Breakfast Club. So...what happened?

Just one of those days. Driving to the gym, I suddenly got so sad and depressed and overwhelmed. I cried so much I had to reach into my gym bag and pull out a t-shirt to wipe the tears away as I drove. I tried to get them all out so I wouldn't let them interfere with the workout I had been looking forward to and I thought I had. Until Awesome came up and asked me how I was. He knows by now when I don't say anything and just quickly look away that means something is wrong.  But, as is our way, we proceeded. He knows me well enough now to know I needed to throw some weight around and not just sit and chat.

We started the first set of complexes and I managed not to cry until we hit the push ups at the end. The push ups didn't make me cry but my mind just sort of barfed all over and I couldn't hold back the tears. No sobs or girly weeping. Just big round tears rolling down my face. He looked concerned but I kept staring at the floor. A sip of water and we started round two. The concentration involved with the lifts was enough to distract me but, once again, when I went down for push ups.... it was all I could do to maintain control. I did six nice pushups and then sat back on my heels with my head on my hands on the floor and just lost it. I cried. Not huge loud obnoxious cries but he could tell I was shaking and I was not laughing. He gently suggested we stop for the night and take a walk. I ignored him. He kept talking low and gentle and said it was okay if I just wanted to end it early tonight but it was up to me. He suggested we go for a walk again and all I could think was if we did he would want me to tell him everything and then I would and I didn't want to sound like a whiny little bitch as it wasn't anything new, just old crap dredged up again. I stood there sweating buckets, tears rolling down my red face, arms shaking, hands on my hips....wanting SO bad to stop. Take a nice walk with a sweet handsome guy who actually gave a crap I was not having a good day and wanted to hear about it. I wanted to say, "Fuck it". I quit. I give up. Uncle. And I stood there. He was patient with me and said gently again, "What do you want?"

Oh the things that ran through my head to say but I knew he meant did I want to do another round or go for a walk. I wanted so badly to just lift so I could shut it off again. So, I sighed, bent over and picked up the weights. I almost smiled when he said, "Good girl."

I did another round and tried to make it perfect and when I knocked out the pushups at the end I would have sworn they were the best I had ever done in my life. Even he said that they were a good set. And, suddenly, I felt a little better. Those six pretty gosh darn good push ups did it. Those six pretty gosh darn good pushups AFTER fours sets of complexes where my arms felt weak and I was meh from tears and sadness and blah and suddenly.... suddenly the tide shifted and it got better. He asked me again if I wanted to quit and take a walk. We had time. I really wanted to but....I wanted to lift more. So I did one more round. And he was pleased. And I was pleased.  And we wrapped it up with a little walk anyway. He has also been a little down (work) and we had a nice chat where I just let him talk. Some hugs and holding and then we were done.

There are days I have absolutely no clue WHY in the world I do what I do. Why do I push so hard? Why do I make myself ache and hurt? Why do I pick up heavy things and put them back down, over and over. What is the point? IS there a point?

The point is this: when I work out there comes a point where I have to focus. With the weight lifting, there is more focus sometimes than with the running, swimming, or biking where your mind can wander a little. With lifting, once you get deeper into the sets, there is a concentration that comes about. A sort of zen like focus just to make your muscle do something it feels too weak to. If you think too much or about other things, you loose it. Awesome tells me again and again, "DON'T THINK! JUST POWER THROUGH!" and sure enough, when I don't think I can push out another rep if I just drop it all and go blank and DO...almost always I get one more. Sometimes two.... Sometimes more.

And I always feel good when I am done because I can feel my muscles burn and I know that two years ago there is no way I ever could have done this. I've come a long way, baby.

Today was a good day :)

This Is Fun?

I started to stress a few days before. Nothing specific, just worries about the race in general. The closer we got, the more anxious I got. I felt stupid and silly all at the same time. Having just come off an accident where my car was plowed into by an elderly driver, I can still distinctly remember the morning I sat on the toilet and could barely stand back up due to the excruciating pain. I could remember thinking I would never run again (sure, maybe a little melodramatic but I was in some severe pain). Now, here I was about three weeks after my doctor releasing me to start working out again and looking to run farther than I ever had before.

Oh, sure... I was telling myself it would be okay if I just walked it. I was being bright and cute thinking that I should just think of it as a pretty day and some morning exercise. But it was a race. And, I knew I had no hope of taking a medal so the real race was against myself. My mind. My body.

I sat in the backseat fighting nerves all the way there. I was able to chill a little before we started but as I looked around at all the "real" runners, I started to feel tears. I wasn't like them. I was a joke that should have stayed home and made waffles for breakfast and resigned myself to being one of those moms that just watches her child's life. But... That's not me. There was this burning desire to see how well I could do. This burning desire to cross that line and say, "I did it!"

The race started, I hit my Garmin and off we went. I felt good heading out as we were down a hill out of the park. Then we turned the corner and I looked up. Hill. I knew I had so many miles before me that even though I felt I could make it up, it would take all I had then I'd have nothing left for the rest. I forced myself to walk that hill and halfway up the self loathing started. Slow. Stupid. Why? Everyone is passing me and I am power walking as fast as I can and feeling more and more stupid for trying. But, I made it to the top. The road leveled out and my breathing evened out. I started to run again. Not super far or fast but in this odd little rhythm I made up at the Hot Chocolate in DC. The course is lined with cones so I would run to one cone, walk to the next, run to the next, walk to the next. Over and over. Steady as she goes.

I tried not to think too much because if I thought then the despair and shame started and I literally felt myself hyperventilate. Side note: it is VERY hard to run when you are hyperventilating. I could feel my lungs tighten and breath catch and the tears would roll and a few times a sob would escape but I mentally gave myself a smack and told myself to focus. At one point, I just picked a lone green cone and stared at it chanting an inner mantra to myself. Don't stop. You've got this. One foot in front of the other. Other times, I would inventory my body and think: brain is not tired, lungs are fine, legs are good. The only weakness is in your mind and heart so suck it up cause you are stronger than that.

I got about a mile and a quarter in and sure enough, my feet went. I have this weird thing that always around that mark, my feet and toes do this numb thing. If I take my shoes off it almost goes away and I can continue but it's kind of a bear to run on asphalt barefoot. Of course, I do it so much now it's not as bad, but still...

So, about halfway through, I note that even though my legs are burning and I am tired, my Garmin has me steady and if I kept my cool and pace I might make it under my goal. This inspires me but I still struggle the rest of the way and when I hit the point I am used to running to, a curious thing happened...

It was still hard but it was like a click and a pop and there was this part of me that was amazed. This is where I am usually done but now I am going FURTHER. For some reason, at that moment I felt like a "real" runner. Like now that I had taken it to the next level I could some how take myself more seriously. Mentally, I needed that. Mentally, I needed to feel that moment when I crossed the old line and was racing for a new one. Unchartered territory. Adventure? Unknown? I hadn't given up and died or collapsed. I was still here. Still going. Slow but steady.

I finally finished and I didn't place or anything but crossing that line and knowing I pushed myself harder and farther than I ever had before was more important than anything else. The sense of accomplishment I felt was like a hundred medals. My daughter ran to hug me and I was so proud and so was she.

A little while later, we had stopped at Starbucks and I sat outside in the sunshine while Endora went in to get us tea. When I stood up to walk back to the car, I winced. I hurt. Bad. (This also happened to be the second day after a heavy lift session so I was hurting from that even before the race started). I limped to the car, feet and legs sore as ever and Endora looked back with this look of something bordering on confusion and disdain maybe.

She said, "And this is fun?"

That comment was odd and a thousand responses filled my mind. Fun? Fun? That was hard. Scary. Painful. A struggle. A horrible challenge I questioned my sanity for doing more than a dozen times as I did it. It was hot. There were bugs. My feet are black and may have some bruises. My left calf feels like someone shot a golf ball into it with a five iron. My quads are burning like a river in hell and I could lay down right here in the parking lot to sleep. Fun? Fun? That was a triumph of my mind over twelve years of brainwashed bullshit. That was a mastery of will power and strength. That was brave. That was one of the hardest things I have done. Fun?

Then I looked at her and realized she had never been one to test her limits. Never been one to push the bar. Never been one to look at something impossible and decided to try it anyway. All that and that moment when I saw I had beat MYSELF by a minute. That moment I crossed the line and could say that I had won. Not my fear, doubt, or weakness. I won. I FUCKING WON. She would just never get that sheer joy or exhilaration or amazing sense of accomplishment and how incredible it felt. So, I said,

"Yeah. It was fun."

There are just some people who will never get that weird drive some of us have. And that's okay. It's just hard to explain unless you feel it and live it.

And, one day, I'll have a medal for it.

A Day In The Life of Evil

22 April 2012, Sunday

Ever wonder what in the world a Satanist does on a Sunday when most the rest of the people go to church?  Here is a sneak peek into my Sunday:

Woke up and rolled out of bed to pouring rain. Made a scrumptious breakfast of eggs over easy, sausage, and croissant rolls (gluten free). 

After breakfast we held our weekly "staff" meeting. Endora, Merlin, P and I sat around the table in the sun room and went over calenders and schedules. We do this weekly so we can coordinate work, home school, projects, meetings, birthdays, events, errands and activities. Each of us has our own calendar, even P has her big girl calendar and is learning how to be organized.

With summer and birthdays and vacations coming up we had several things to go over. The beach house has been booked and paid for (going to the beach with our Savannah friends and their kids for P's birthday and one of their girls has her bday that same week). This summer P has gymnastics, swimming, running, and golf activities to schedule so we worked on getting those to work out. P and I registered for a four mile race next month and discussed which other races we want to do this year.

Once the staff meeting was done, we had home school debrief. I was given two stumper questions from P that I immediately consulted Mr. Thomas on. 1. WHO "invented" the concepts of North, South, East, and West 2. Is there such a thing as a sound prism.  Mr. Thomas came through with flying colours and answered the first one and we are researching the second. I told Mr. Thomas he was officially added to the home school faculty and P commented under her breath "I think of Mr. Thomas as my father now". Wow. We were both not expecting that comment out of the blue but he was amazing and accepted it gracefully and with honour.

Let P stay with Merlin and Endora as it was pouring rain and I headed out to get my car inspected (passed, yeah!) then went by the party store to get goodies for the goodie beach buckets for P's beach birthday party. Started to brainstorm her party with Thomas. She wants a mystery party so planning a Scooby Doo Mystery Party. I will have her cake (going to buy an ice cream cake since I don't want to have to bake while on vacation at the beach) and when it's time for cake after dinner I will exclaim that someone has stolen the cake! There will be an envelope left in its place from the Birthday Phantom that I will give the kids and it will kick off the treasure hunt for the cake for them. Still working out the details of the hunt but went ahead and got the stuff for the beach pails.

Each girl gets a large plastic beach bucket with a matching sand shovel. Inside the bucket they each get: a fancy emery board (got them at Wegman's a few weeks ago on clearance and they are so pretty with different floral designs), a long bubble tube wand that makes HUGE bubbles, a squirt gun, a package of water balloon bombs, a bright silk floral lei, a package of bright neon headbands with peace signs on them (it's the rage these days), a blow up beach ball, and since the adults always sit around with a glass of wine at the end of the day and the girls love to act grown up, I got them each a plastic wine glass (they have bright summer color ones for 99 cents at the party store).

Once done at the party store, stopped by the grocery store on the way home and picked up two cans of chili beans for dinner.

Got home and snuggled up on the couch with P. She had been working on some crafts all afternoon and after admiring them we fired up a Mystery Science Theater 3000 DVD (Laserblast) with Thomas and enjoyed it. After the DVD, I started on the Cookie Monster Club selection for Mr. Thomas for April. Coffee and Cookie Brownies.

The recipe called for a layer of sugar cookie dough to be pressed into a 13x9 pan. Then I prepared a box of Ghiradelli dark chocolate brownie mix but replaced the water with Kahlua. I poured that over the sugar cookie dough and then sprinkled a cup of Hershey's Special Dark Chocolate Chips on top before sliding it into the oven.  Once it came out, I pressed a dark chocolate covered espresso bean into the center of where each square would be once they were cut.

A quick pause for a quick dinner: home made beef chili topped with fresh cut onions and cheddar cheese and a dash of Tobasco!

Now we are all sitting around relaxing. We will have brownies with some fresh strawberries tonight. Still outlining the birthday party mystery with Thomas so I can figure out what I need to make/buy/pack for the trip. And once I post this blog I will put my first load of laundry in, prepare my lunches for this week, take a quick shower, do my nails and watch a movie with P and Thomas for bed time. I am thinking Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austin. Educational for P and Thomas and I have been really wanting to watch it.

Now, if you will pardon me, time to go start laundry!

WATER IS LIFE

Water helps remove toxins from the body, in particular from the digestive tract. Our kidney system is unique in its filtering capabilities and totally dependent upon water in order for it to work. Daily fluid intake is essential to its efficient operation, particularly because there is some decrease in function with age. Minor dehydration can cause impaired concentration, headaches, irritability and fatigue.

Water is also essential for proper circulation in the body. The levels of oxygen in the bloodstream are greater when the body is well hydrated. The more oxygen the body has readily available, the more fat it will burn for energy without the presence of oxygen the body cannot utilize stored fat for energy efficiently. Not only will the body burn more fat when well hydrated but because there are increased oxygen levels you will also have more energy.

Drinking more water everyday will help you think more clearly. Research has repeatedly shown that staying hydrated is necessary for the human brain, which is 85% water, to function at optimal levels.

Water makes up a large part of the fluid that lubricates and cushions your joints and muscles. And although not the only element associated with muscle cramps, athletes have long recognized that even mild dehydration can produce cramps. So drinking water before, during and after exercise can also help reduce muscle cramping and premature fatigue.

Water is essential for proper digestion, nutrient absorption and chemical reactions. The carbohydrates and proteins that our bodies use as food are metabolized and transported by water in the bloodstream.

When you don't have enough water in your body, your cells start to draw water from the bloodstream. Your heart has to work harder because your blood gets sludgy, and your body starts to redirect blood away from less vital areas. This is a great strain on the body because it impairs the kidneys in their vital function of purifying the blood and helping the body get rid of toxins.

It has been shown that dehydration decreases protein synthesis. Protein synthesis is what builds muscle. It is an energy costly process. When you suppress protein synthesis, fewer calories end up building proteins and more calories end up in your fat stores. It's elementary: calories have two possible fates - they either get burned or stored. When more of the calories you eat get burned, less will get stored.

Increased water consumption can help you control weight by preventing you from confusing hunger with thirst. Water will also keep your body systems, including metabolism and digestion, working properly and give you the energy (and hydration) necessary for exercise.

It is important to know that the body can only absorb four ounces of water every ten minutes, so like many things in life, it is important to be proactive with drinking water.

“Chronic cellular dehydration painfully and prematurely kills. Its initial outward manifestations have until now been labelled as diseases of unknown origin.”  - F. batmangheldidj, MD, 1995