Category Archives: Rants

But are you bleeding?

Let’s be honest: How many times have you yelled this up the stairs to your kids? If you immediately said daily, you can be my friend. Unfortunately, about 40% of the time the answer at my house is, “YES!” That doesn’t mean they are actually bleeding. I think they just know that that will actually get me to put down what I am doing and go upstairs to find out what is going on.

After yelling this ump-teen million times over the past few quarantined months (and my boys are only 5 and 2, so we have YEARS of this left), I started thinking about this exclamation in a difference light.

I tend to overthink, overanalyze, worry myself sick over things that will probably never happen. And through all my anxiety I end up wasting time and energy that isn’t necessary. Recently I decided to start using “But are you bleeding?” to my classify my worries. It is a good barometer for how bad things actually are. I will give you an example:

Yesterday, my husband (who is now a grade school physical education teacher, a story for a different day) text me to tell me that my son’s teacher is in quarantine because her husband tested positive for COVID-19. My initial thought was this:

Then the questions start up in my head-

-How much time has Cub spent with her since she has been exposed?
-Her son is also in Cub’s class, so how much time has Cub been around him since he was exposed?
-Cub sits next to her son in class, so how many things have they both touched that could potentially expose us?
-Has Chas been in contact with either of them?
-What if we have to quarantine?
-I don’t have enough groceries to feed these kids for 2 weeks!
-Does this mean I could sleep in?

The questions go on and on… You can get consumed in them. So here is where you apply my logic: But are you bleeding? In this situation, is it a matter of life or death? Well, it is COVID, so that leaves a few more questions. Fortuantely, none of us have pre-existing conditions that would warrant complete panic. Assuming we act responsibly, it probably is not a matter of death.

So, I don’t think we are bleeding. And even if we are, maybe just a trickle.

I can order online and pick up groceries at Wal-Mart, or my mother-in-law could pick them up for me and drop them off on our front porch. Another way to stop any bleeding.

Yes, everyone has probably been exposed. Fortunately everyone was wearing masks. We have not been contacted by the health department to quarantine. Winning!

Everyone is feeling fine. No symptoms to report. Winning again!

And if you did have to quarantine, yes, you might be able to sleep in. Well that would be major winning if we had to quarantine, but we don’t so its losing.

Anyway, that is how you stop the bleeding in about 27 steps. Any questions? Wait, what was I saying? Is confusion a symptom of COVID? And here we are, back to the beginning. No one died! Yay! But Lord, am I tired!

The harsh realities of parenthood

Screenshot 2018-08-26 18.52.54I think one of my biggest fears in life is being the person that people dread walking in a room. And that’s not to say I want to be liked by everyone. That is impossible. Plus I hate most people, so I don’t expect them all to like me. But in this sense I mean walking into a room with my kid and someone whispering to the person next to them, “Oh no. Not them.”

Now, to clarify, when my boys start wrestling, and they walk into the gym I want everyone and their dog to say, “Oh No. Not the Thompson boys!” I just don’t want people saying that when we walk into pre-school, which happens to be the exact situation I currently find myself in. We are starting week 3 of pre-school with Cub. Let me just throw a few items out there so people know the situation:

  1. Cub turned 3 on June 28th.
  2. We don’t necessarily expect to send him to kindergarten when he is 5. We think 6 is probably going to be better for him maturity wise (and athletically).
  3. He has been potty trained for 4 weeks, but took to it like a champ and has only had 2 accidents in his 8 days. One of those accidents was during nap time, and the other was because the teacher didn’t get his pants off of him quick enough in the bathroom (yes, he still needs some help with the clothing stuff). I am not blaming the teacher…
  4. Last Sunday he had what I would consider a significant head injury. He was ankle tackled by a friend at a birthday party and smacked his head on a chair, I mean HARD, right across the bridge of his nose and left eye.
  5. He had just started talking around the first of May. He is hard to understand, but he is repeating everything you say and has a pretty good vocabulary if you listen to him. His annunciation is not great yet, but the difference from 6 months ago to now is REMARKABLE.
  6. Cub does have tantrums. He likes to get his way, but I in no way think that these are any different from most kids.

The first week of pre-school was challenging for Cub. It was the first time he went anywhere all day, all week. He was still sort of potty training so the whole situation was new for him. I got multiple calls from the teacher, checking in, talking about a tantrum or two he had thrown, but everything was pretty normal from my perspective.

Screenshot 2018-08-26 18.53.00Week two started out terrible. I was having a very rough day at work, went to pick Cub up at 5 and was bombarded with a swift, “We think Cub should go home from 11-2 for lunch and nap. He can be here from 8-11 and 2-5, but let’s have him go home for lunch and nap.” By the end of the week the conversation turned to sending him to a special ed. pre-school from 12-3 everyday. I mean, can someone help me connect the dots? Cub doesn’t nap easily, but he had been in the new environment for just over a week, they have already jumped to the conclusion that they don’t want him in a traditional pre-school classroom. The reports I have gotten have been nothing but good in terms of his cooperation, his involvement in activities, and interacting with his peers. But apparently because he won’t nap and can’t enunciate the same way other kids do he is now special ed.

I mean honestly. How is that fair?!? The kid has barely had a chance in the class. It makes me very upset. If you don’t want my son in your class, if you are the person who in your head is saying, “Oh no. Cub is here,” then just let me know, and I will take my dollars elsewhere.

Just a little rant on a Sunday night, but man am I stressed at the moment. If these people had met Cub in March, they would never believe the amount of progress he has made in 6 months. I tell you, this kid is going to be something. He is a special kid. He is smart, physically gifted, and doesn’t miss a beat. Someday these teachers are going to say, “Hey! That’s the kid that I kicked out of my pre-school class.” I can’t wait for that day.

A new season is upon us

And that’s it.

Just like that, wrestling season is over.

I have a love/hate relationship with wrestling season. My husband loves it, and I love him. He is gone all the time, and I am at home taking care of a stubborn almost two year old by myself, so I hate it. I love the team, going to watch them in the room in the afternoon, watching them interact with Cub and of course seeing them wrestle when I can make it. I hate the hours upon hours of wrestling watched at my house, the countless recruiting calls made/taken, and the disappointment on my husband’s face when he has to deal with a situation that he doesn’t want to handle, like disciplining an athlete for violating the rules.

Tonight I got to watch my husband coach in the national finals, the pinnacle for any wrestler. I cried, and not because we lost the match. I cried because I was so proud. I am proud of my husband for all the hard work he puts in, and so proud of Jon, his 197 lb wrestler, who has worked his tail off for years to get to this point. I cried because I wasn’t there. I cried because I wanted Cub to know what was going on and get as excited as I was, but instead he wanted to watch The Incredibles (Ok, fine.)

Wrestling season is over. That doesn’t mean I will get to see my husband a ton more, but any few minutes in the day it spares makes me a happy wife.

Charles Henley, I am so proud of you and the lessons and knowledge you instill in the minds of your athletes. No one works harder than you to make these young men great wrestlers and great people. And you still make time for Cub, Lucy, Milton, Rock and me. We love you and are so excited for you to come home tomorrow.

The Unsexy Side

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When I look back on my life prior to marriage, kids and mortgages, it is amazing to me how different actual life is compared to what I thought life would be back then. I used to see the white picket fence, kids running in the yard, and the perfect dinner waiting on the table for the family. I never thought about the Kansas wind blowing the fence over, or the stretch marks from carrying multiple kids for way to many months, or the millions of grocery trips needed just to get frozen chicken nuggets and a salad on the table by the time my husband gets home.

The day-to-day struggles that make moms pull their hair out exist much more than the happy, calm, relaxing moments you dream of as a youngin. That’s not to say I am not happy or don’t love my life. I love it very much. You just don’t expect to be peed on or step on a Hot Wheels car in the middle of the night, or have your husband suddenly exclaim that he has friends stopping by and they need a feast brought before them.

I have been struggling with my fitness since well before Cub was born, and it is still a struggle today. I am trying to get better about planning it out to make sure it happens, but its hard to wake up at 5:30 am when you have had a kid kicking you all night long. With wrestling season just a week away, I know that it is going to be harder than ever to get back to where I want to be, but I have 3 months until I have the honor of getting inducted into the Milton-Union High School Athletic Hall of Fame, and I’ll be damned if I don’t look right for that. The blood, sweat and tears are the unsexy side, but they are the side that makes it all worth your while. I would have the opportunity to even be in the hall of fame if it wasn’t for them.

Life isn’t as sexy as it seems. Kids make a mess. Dogs make a mess. Husbands make a mess. Fences need painted and real food needs to be cooked, with love of course..

Day 96/366- Driving Ms. Emotional

For about 2, if not 3 years now, I feel like I have been a woman posing as a runner. My stats have been atrocious, my runs few and far between. Becoming a wife and a mother, moving halfway across the country from beautiful, sunny Northern California to windy western Kansas and dealing with sleepless nights and so much time without Chas during wrestling season has put a damper on my athletic spirit. In my mind and heart, I am a runner, but in actuality, I am a fraud.

Last week I ran twice. It was so refreshing to wake up before anyone else and know that while everyone in Hays, KS, was still fast asleep, I was working hard and showing the world my perseverance. Morning runs are really about putting one foot in front of the other. I generally have just nursed the baby, and instead of crawling back in next to my husband, I opt for the cold, windy tundra that is Main Street at 5:30 am. I run an out and back usually, trying to complete one leg faster than the other. Pounding the pavement that earlier makes a person ponder big things, future goals, the meaning of life, etc. In a way, it makes me feel superior, the fact that I can do this, that I have the will power to do it, even if just for my usual 2 mile stretch. When I walk back in the door, I am no longer free or powerful. I am mom, Marketing Director and chef, but I feel more empowered in my daily activities, and more patient in my handling of crying babies, dog messes, and dumb emails. A run can certainly mellow a Type A personality like myself, but at the same time makes me feel more secure in who I am and what I am doing.

Besides my running lately, I have been playing in a rec volleyball league and working on some Nike Training Club workouts. On Monday, we played a team that had 3 former collegiate players on it. By former, I mean just graduated. Being 11 years out from my playing days, I am confident in my ability and skills, but am most certainly a step behind where I was when training was my life. We lost the game on Monday, and I left the facility feeling embarrassed and angry. They other team was cocky, stuck up, and not fun and light to play like most of our “Rec” league opponents. I hate that feeling. But then I started thinking about my NOW self as opposed to my 11 years ago self. When I was in the same position as the cocky girls we played Monday night, I am sure I was similar, and enjoyed beating up on older people. But I will tell you why they should be bowing down to me:

I am 11 years out of my volleyball career and I still was blocking the crap out of them.
I have the guts and moxy to put myself in that situation knowing that I am not the same 100% I used to be.
Those girls don’t know what it is like to be up all hours of the night nourishing a human being.
I created a human being with my own body!
I can work a 50+ hour week, cook, clean, and nurture my family while still looking to maintain my health and the health of my boys.
I am setting an example for my son, showing him that anything is possible and fitness is forever.
Those girls aren’t up at 5:30 to make themselves better.
Oh, and they certainly don’t know that people may not remember what you did, but they will always remember how you made them feel.

I am a mom, a fit mom. A mom that is continuously trying to make herself a better person, wife, employee, and human. I know everyone is fighting some kind of battle, as I am. I know that there were probably days when I acted like them, but now I see the world in a different light. Someday they will too.

Pregnancy is a marathon

IMG_3592We made it to week 40! The big 4-0. It is a comforting feeling, because I know that the growth of Baby T is complete. On the other hand, I have been pregnant for forty week people. And not with just any baby: Chas Thompson’s baby. Those of you that know my husband know him as a noise maker, a wiggler, a wrestler (obviously), but a very sweet guy. Well I may not have met him yet, but I can tell you my son is just like his father, besides the fact that I am fairly certain he will wrestle at 197 or heavyweight based on his and my size at this point! At 34 weeks he was almost 7 lbs already… Yeah.

I am so in love with my husband, but he paces around the house when he is thinking hard or talking on the phone. He is constantly making noise like water dripping, or randomly singing out of nowhere and scaring the living daylights out of me (he has even made the baby jump before). Like his father, my unborn son does not stop moving. I have actually asked the nurse at my prenatal appointments if there is a point when you worry about your baby moving too much. I swear he will come out and be like Dash from The Incredibles, his little legs never slowing down. It’s like hyperactivity disorder in the womb! But in the end, I think he is just a happy boy that likes hanging out with him mom everyday.

When you first get pregnant, you know that week 40 is your goal. If you can cook that baby to week 40, you can relax a little bit, because growth should be done by that point. But for all women who have ever had a baby, you realize how much a marathon this process is. Let’s start from the beginning shall we?

At the beginning of the race, you are excited! You have you number on and are waiting in your corral, and if you are at Disney, you get to see fireworks as you cross the start line. Pregnancy… well I will just leave it at that.

The first few weeks, like the first few miles, you are getting your groove, getting used to the idea that you will be running for hours on end or carrying this baby for months. You feel fairly good as you get your stride, and are excited that you have something to look forward to: the finish line.

After about mile 4-5 (week 6-7 of pregnancy), you start wondering why you are doing this. You have so far to go. At Disney, you aren’t even to the Magic Kingdom yet! You need food and fuel, but you sort of feel like you might spew at any minute, but you force down that gel anyway. Really you just kinda wanna lay down. This is called the first trimester, and it lasts until about mile 8 or so.

From mile 8 to mile 18 (week 13-27), things start to go numb. Things hurt occasionally, but you are sort of in your groove, and the crowd of excited fans has finally thinned out a little bit. You realize that there is no turning back now, so you are basically just going through the motions attempting to make it to the next mile (or milestone). With every gel, your energy level increases for a bit, and you feel like you can actually accomplish something here.

Once you hit mile 20 (week 30ish), you know that you have only a few more to go before you get to see that finish line. You are once again excited and rejuvenated, but at the same time, your body hurts so bad that it is hard to concentrate on finishing. You know you will and can, but sometimes you just want to stop and cry, asking yourself why in God’s name did you sign up to do this in the first place!

The last month of pregnancy is pretty much identical to the last .2 miles of a marathon. It takes forever to get there, and you are sure that you were probably in such a daze you ran right past the finish, just continued to keep running and missed it, because there is no way in hell that .2 miles takes this long to run. Yep, that is pregnancy after week 36. You know what is coming. You are constantly in pain with a foot in your rib, nerve pain that cripples you at the drop of a hat, and peeing 14 times a night. You know this is what you have been working for these past nine months, but the ending is so unpredictable that you are still nervous. 

I know at some point I will make it to the finish line. We aren’t there quite yet. And like getting that nice shiny medal, my little baby will be the prize at the end of a long race. And oddly enough, I will probably be walking the same as if I had finished a marathon when he finally gets here. I am also fairly certain that when I see him, as when you finish a race, I will forget about how horrible the full experience really was and probably sign up for another. However, I am telling my husband that we are never doing this again…

How a boa constrictor ruined my Saturday

The harsh realities of pregnancy got the best of me yesterday. I have been out in California for the past few days for work, which has been going very well so far. Yesterday morning, I woke up and prepared to drive to Sacramento to live stream a basketball tournament. While getting ready, I saw a piece on the Today Show about how a family’s 12 ft. pet boa constrictor got out and slithered into the baby’s crib, suffocating it.

Now, we don’t have any pet snakes, or plan to get one for that matter, but for some reason this got to me. I continued on and when I sat down to eat breakfast, I started crying thinking about all the potential things that I could unknowingly be doing that could harm the 18 week old fetus in my belly. I got myself settled down, and set off to Sacramento thinking of things that I could easily change to help make myself and my pregnancy just a little bit better.

I made it up there nice and early and decided to head to a store called Buy Buy Baby to start some baby shopping. As I walked around looking at pacifiers, booties, crib sheets and humidifiers, I immediately felt overwhelmed. Again, what if I pick the wrong thing and it hurts or harms this small human I am growing? Suddenly I came upon the stroller/car seat section. Near one corner, with a salesman, a very well dressed woman in a fedora, with her fancy husband and adorable pregnant belly. She was asking a million and one questions: What colors does this come in? Will they deliver to our house? What sort of attachments are available for the handle? Does the car seat snap into the stroller the same way it does the car?

Literally they have 400 strollers

OMG! Why don’t I have any questions to ask? Do these things have safety ratings? Can I sit in the stroller and hyperventilate while you go get me a paper bag? I managed to escape the store holding back tears and retreated to my car only to spend the next 3o minutes blubbering like an idiot. In hind sight, it is dumb, and certainly something to laugh about. But it still proves the point that I am unprepared, and being almost half way through this pregnancy, I/we have some major catching up to do.

Obviously lack of sleep, being away from my husband and hormones got the best of me yesterday, but that doesn’t make up for the fact that I still have to pick out a stroller!?! How in the world am I supposed to do that?!? I don’t know what I need in a stroller, because I have never really used one before. Do I take my dog to the store so I can try it out? Oh lord there is a lot to think about.

One day at a time Jen. One day at a time.

One down, Two to go

We made it through the first trimester! Yay! Let me tell you, it wasn’t easy. From nausea to food aversions, cramps to complete and total exhaustion, I… WE, have been through quite a bit. Chas has been a trooper through it all. He has taken over almost all the house duties, because I simply don’t have the energy to do anything. It seems to be getting better, but I have days when I am just not sure anything will get done.

How cute is that?!?

How cute is that?!?

When you envision getting pregnant, you picture the positive test, the elation of telling your closest family and friends, and maybe a little morning sickness, which you are fairly certain won’t happen to you. No one tells you about the flatuence, the exhaustion, the ten MILLION times you will have to pee, or the smells that will immediately make you run to put your face in the toilet (like the pulled pork I came home to one evening. OMG, I am getting sick just thinking about it.) Unless you really dive in and do your research, which you won’t do unless you are obsessed with getting pregnant or find out that your pregnant, this is stuff you don’t really hear about. People don’t ask you about how you are as the mother. They ask to see the ultrasound picture, or what size the baby is in terms of fruit that week (we are up to a peach currently). They could care less about the fact that your pelvic bone constantly aches and that your pants don’t fit anymore. Well folks if you want the truth, come to me!

So far, pregnancy sucks! Don’t get me wrong. I am completely and totally in awe of the fact that my body will take the grilled cheese sandwich and tomato basil soup I had for lunch and turn it into a human, but it really is not a very fun process so far. But, like a good mom-to-be, I have been reading up. According to the literature, I am almost out of the woods, as most of the books say that the 2nd trimester brings about calm, less pee, and overall less “I just want to kill myself now” symptoms.

Well let me just tell you universe, I am waiting…

It all comes back to footwear

If you have been reading my blog lately, you know that I have a strange obsession with the show Cheers at the current moment. Well for a while I had jumped around, not necessarily watching episodes in order. Recently I started, I believe, in season 8, and yesterday, I finally made it to the series finale. Of course I cried, because heaven forbid I don’t cry at something these days. But I also learned an interesting lesson. If you recall the final episode, it was a 3 parter when Diane comes back, Sam contemplates leaving, and Woody gets everyone a job for the city. But at the very end of the episode, the gang is sitting around the bar talking about how much they all *cough* love *cough* each other.

At one point, they talk about what makes life complete. Carla says having kids, Frasier says life is a cosmic accident, and Cliff says footwear. Without comfortable footwear, no great accomplishment would have been made, that life is chaos without good footwear. At the end of the episode, they all say how glad they are that Sam has stayed, and that if he had left, someone would have some pretty big shoes to fill. Cliff then says, “See! It all comes back to footwear!”

My favorite running shoes, Nike Free v7.0 with side laces

 

Well Cliff is right in many aspects, in regards to my life anyway. Running for example, is a very trying task if you do not have the appropriate footwear. You will have knee, back and hip problems if your shoes are worn out or not activity appropriate. In marketing, you need to view the idea or promotion from the public’s point of view, or “walk in their shoes” to determine if something if going to work for your brand. A squeaky shoe, wet shoes, or broken shoes can ruin your day. People have shoe addictions, or their baby’s first shoes hanging over the rear view mirror in their car. A new pair of shoes can change the way you feel.

 

I went looking for some new shoes yesterday, as I have been having a few foot problems with my training schedule. With 44 miles scheduled this week, I don’t expect them to get much better, so I am trying to figure out the best solution so I am not in pain… (odd metaphor to my life right now, but I won’t go into that). So once again, my success, failure, and comfort come down to footwear.

Quite odd, but Cliff Clavin had a good point.

Run Shaming

A few months ago, a mom posted this picture on her Facebook page:

My first thoughts when seeing this photo are: 1. Those kids are darn cute, 2. She looks amazing, and 3. I hope I look half as good as she does when/if I have kids in the future. But people didn’t feel the same as I do. Apparently, people felt like she was “Fat Shaming”, or making fat people feel bad for looking the way they do.

Yeah, that was her intent. ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?!?

If you want to be fat, be fat. Nobody is stopping you… except maybe the Mayor of New York City. This woman isn’t stopping you from eating to your heart’s content, so eat, be fat, and be merry. Period.

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Have you see the latest rant against runners? Mr. Chad Stafko, who I can only imagine is about 400 lbs. decided that runners are too proud, as was the poor woman in the photo above. Here’s his post from the Wall Street Journal.

Runner’s World posted a response that I cracked up about for 20 minutes. In fact, lots of people have responded… with that being said, I wanted to respond as well.

I would like to call Chad’s article ‘Run Shaming’. Isn’t his purpose in this whole thing to make runner’s feel bad for being so proud of  accomplishing great things on the road? He obviously hasn’t run a day in his life. Where does he get off having the right to make us feel bad for being runners?

Why do the healthy people always get griped at? You know, I have a very good friend who lost a ton of weight and I have actually heard someone say that he is crazy for doing it? He looks amazing, is healthier than ever for his kids, and people have the nerve to say he is being unhealthy by getting healthy.

If you want to be fat, be fat. If you want to be thin, be thin. Be a runner. Be a couch paperweight. NO ONE CARES! Be whatever you want to be, and be proud of it. If you don’t want to be something that you are, change it. Don’t let anyone tell you you can’t do or be what you want to do or be.

In conclusion, I would just like to say, to each their own.