My little boys fight like cats and dogs. They play hard together but they fight hard, too. They start out playing nicely with lots of giggles and laughter, which quickly turns into wrestling like bear cubs and next thing I know, someone’s crying and pointing a finger; “Jacob got too rough with me!” “Christopher pinched me!”  Five minutes later, it starts all over again and this goes on all day unless I have them involved in a craft. It’s alright. They are boys and they are siblings. It happens.

Jacob (like a typical Bailey) is not a morning person. I have to sweet talk him out of bed almost every day Monday through Friday. (Saturdays are a different story but we all know how that goes.) Once Jacob is downstairs, he wants to be left alone. Sometimes, he’ll get upset if Christopher is even in the same room. (Which only encourages Christopher to bother him more.)

This morning, when Jacob came downstairs, he snuggled up under his blanket as usual. But when Christopher walked into the living room, instead of complaining about him, Jacob looked at him and said, “You know what Mommy? I like Christopher.” Christopher replied, “I like you, too, Jacob. Can I sit under your blankie with you?”  Jacob responded, “Sure you can. Mommy, can you cover us both up with my blanket, please?”  It was so adorable.

I think it’s normal for mom’s to worry when their children fight. Do they like each other? Will they ever get along? But seeing my boys snuggled up on the couch together, I know they love each other fiercely. Yes, they will fight but, it’s nice to know that I am teaching them how to love each other, too.

I spent Spring Break in Ohio last year. I was with my sister, Chris.  We did a lot of laughing that week.  She was in such good spirits. Every day that I was there she seemed to be a bit better. A couple months before that, she had lost the use of her right arm and most of the use of her right leg due to her brain tumor. She’d had surgery the month before to have that tumor removed and the surgery was a success. That week, she was up and walking around, following me around the house as I did chores for her. She was using a walker but she was walking and doing it very well. She even said she thought she was getting some tingling back in her right arm.

We stayed up late and watched a lot of stupid tv together. We talked, we laughed. I felt so much hope. I really thought she was going to beat her cancer.  The only indication that there was any problem was the night I helped her shower.  She was getting out of the tub and told me she had to sit for a minute. She started to get nervous but I said, “It’s just because you’ve been on your feet a lot today.”  She sat on the side of the tub trying to catch her breath and then she looked up at me and said, “I think it’s the cancer in my lungs.”  But the Cleveland Clinic was going to take care of that with treatments. I had every confidence that was going to happen.

I left her house on Thursday.  She was back in the hospital by Saturday. She never got to go home again. The next time I stayed at her house, she was gone.  I am so grateful that we spent that week together. This Spring Break will be a sad one but, I will remember all the laughing we did together that week and how happy she was to have me there.

Christopher crawled in bed with us at 3:00am Sunday morning. I fell back to sleep with no problem but woke up two hours later hanging on the edge of the bed. I gave up and snuck into Christopher’s room and fell blissfully back to sleep. An hour later I hear Jacob crying and calling me in a complete panic. I bolt out of Christopher’s bed, forgetting where I am for a moment and get all tangled up in his bed rail.    I got myself untangled and ran to the hallway where Jacob was standing, holding his mouth. Luckily, I guessed what was about to happen and ran with him into the bathroom… just in time.

Victory! That was the first time in his life Jacob has ever made it to the bathroom in time to vomit into the toilet.   As far as I’m concerned, the day started out VERY well.  For once, I’m not covered in it. It did, however, put a damper on attending the church service I had been looking forward to all week.

Jim ended up going with Christopher, however so Jacob and I were able to have a quiet morning. We snuggled up on the couch together and watched Mary Poppins.  I didn’t say anything to Jacob but, on top of being worried about him, I was disappointed that I wasn’t able to attend service. Just a little way into the movie, Jacob looked up at me and patted my hair and said, “It’s going to be ok, Mommy.”   I realized then that I was exactly where I was supposed to be.  I looked back at him, patted him on the back and said, “You know what buddy? You are so right. Everything is going to be ok.”  Two minutes later, he was asleep. Thank you, God, for making my little one so wise.  (And for getting him to the toilet on time…)

I was walking around my kitchen today getting lunch ready for my boys and guess what? My pants are falling down. Just slightly, but I keep having to hitch them back up. 75 days ago, this seemed impossible.

I am on day 75 of my 100 day challenge of fitness. Why did I do this? Because, I need to lose weight, a lot of it. How did I get to this point? Lots of reasons, but what I want to focus on now is what I’m doing about it. On January 6^th, I woke up and decided it was time to do something about changing my life.

I wasn’t sure how I was going to do it, but I knew I needed to get moving. Exercising is hard. It’s so hard. That’s what I used to tell myself. I hated exercise. I kept saying to myself, “I have so much weight to lose it’s overwhelming to even think about it. It’s going to take a year before I probably even notice any change in myself.”  Then, fortunately, I thought, yes, that sounds  like a long time and it does seem overwhelming, but, do I really want to be standing here a year from now in the same shape I am, wondering why I hadn’t started?  Wouldn’t I rather be able to look back and see what a change I’ve made? So, I started moving. And, instead of thinking about the big number, I decided to focus on what I could do in just one week.

I started slow. I had jumped onto the weight loss train too many times before, going overboard and doing too much in the beginning and either hurting myself or just wearing myself out enough to make it too difficult to continue. So, I just walked. After just one week I had more energy, so I started doing 30 minute circuit workouts. I created a little workout routine for myself with very low weights but a lot of repetitions. Between each rep, I would set the microwave timer for one minute and do some kind of aerobic activity. After just one week of this, I could feel my energy level increasing. Then the circuit training didn’t feel like enough. So I moved onto aerobics.

I found this old, cheesy video from the 1990’s; they are wearing leg warmers and tights… yes, very cheesy. But, it got me really moving. By week three I was able to do 45 minutes of aerobics.  Three weeks. That’s it. After just three short weeks, I was able to keep up with 45 minutes of heavy duty moving. Me, who hates to exercise. I wouldn’t have believed it possible. But here I am, on day 75. Not only do I not mind moving now, I enjoy it. I can’t get over how much energy I have these days.

I just want to say to anyone that might read this that is convinced that they can’t do it, I’m doing it.  And believe me, if I can do it, anyone can do it.  All you have to do is start. Just make one small change. You don’t have to jump head first into some insane program, or go spend a ton of money joining a gym. Just move.

I still have a lot to go but I’m on my way. I am already considering myself a success story.  For now, I need to go find a belt to hold up my pants… that I’ll be replacing soon.

I have the pickiest eaters in the entire universe… I’m convinced of this. Especially Christopher. He would live on chicken nuggets, pasta and fruit if I’d let him. Jacob is a bit more adventurous. I can get him to at least try whatever it is I cook. But with Christopher, dinner time is a frustrating event. So, when we were at Target today and Christopher absolutely begged me to buy him a frozen pizza, I was hesitant. It’s just a DiGiornio, nothing fancy but, I know my son. I’m going to pull that thing out of the oven, cut it up and put a slice in front of him and he’s going to look at me like I’m trying to serve him razor blades.  Against my better judgment, I bought the pizza.

We drove home, talking about the pizza almost all the way. Both boys helped me carry in the grocery bags. We all went into the kitchen, I got the oven going, the boys helped me put some things away and I kept saying, “You’re both sure, you want to eat pizza tonight, right?”  Their response… “Yes, Mommy!” Christopher even went so far as to tell me, “I can’t wait to eat that pizza!” I got the pizza in the oven and the boys went off to play.

The timer goes off, the pizza cools, I cut it up and set it on the table. Both boys looked at it, looked at me, looked back at the pizza and, as they both pushed the plates away from them, Jacob said, “I need some scrambled eggs.”

Last Sunday, I decided that maybe it was time to try another church… but not a Catholic one this time. I have been Catholic all my life. It’s all I know. I went to vacation bible study at different places of worship as a kid but, I wasn’t there to hear about the church, I was there to spend time with my friends. Last Sunday, I thought it was time to try something different.  So, I looked online at a church a friend of mine attends and I saw that they had a new member’s class that morning at 11:00. I decided to check it out.

When I arrived, I went to the office of the Sunday school Director. They were very welcoming and friendly. They took their time with me and showed me the classrooms and let me observe for a few minutes. Another issue with attending mass recently has been that Jacob cannot tolerate all the noise. There are a lot of echoes in church… a lot of singing. I actually tried to take Jacob the week before and as soon as everyone started singing, he plugged his ears and started shivering. “Can we go now, please, Mommy, please?”  The only way for Jim and I to attend service is separately. One attends one service while the other is at home with the boys. I would like to find a place we can worship together.

After meeting the Sunday school staff, I headed over to the chapel where the new member’s meeting was to take place. Again, everyone was very welcoming. The pastor came in and began speaking. I found out that it was actually a meeting for those that are ready to join the church, and this was their third group meeting.  There must have been a lot of Catholics there because the pastor focused quite a bit on the difference between this church and the Catholic Church. He wasn’t negative in any way, just pointed out the differences.   At first I was comfortable. But after just a few minutes, I began to feel extremely tense and very out of place.

Again, he wasn’t Catholic bashing, he did quite the opposite. He talked about how, even though our beliefs are somewhat different, we are all unified in Christ. It was very uplifting and beautiful.  But, the longer I sat there, the more I started to feel lost. How can I, a Catholic all my life, be sitting here seriously considering leaving my Catholic faith behind to become a member of a new faith? I’ve been saying that lately I have felt empty but at that moment, I didn’t feel empty. What I felt was plugged, stopped up, unable to take anything into myself spiritually. But, I also felt like I was breaking. It was like I was being pulled from my roots and they were desperately clinging for life. They aren’t quite ready to be pulled. My roots are strong in this soil. It was terrifying and sad. But I tried my best to be open minded. I need something more, I just don’t know what it is yet.

My husband and I had a nice long talk about it when I got home.  He went through a similar thing many years ago, but his roots were quite a bit more loose and ready to be replanted. I have decided to give it another try next week. We will all attend this new church together, letting our boys attend Sunday school and see how they do as well. I don’t honestly know where I’ll go from here. I need to do some serious soul searching and praying. The thought of leaving the Catholic Church terrifies me quite honestly. But, all change is frightening. It doesn’t necessarily mean it’s a bad thing. Clearly, some kind of change needs to take place. I know I’m not ready for the new member’s group but, it’s time to open my mind and my heart and take a new adventure and see what I can find.

March 15^th, the Ides of March, a notorious day in history.  But for me, it brings back happy memories of one of my favorite people. It’s my Aunt Debbie’s birthday.

Debbie is only a few years older than me so she has always been more like a sister. I have so many fond memories of her. When I was little and would go to my grandma’s Aunt Debbie would let me hang out in her room with her and her friends, listening to all their favorite records. She is the reason I am such a big fan of Elton John. (And The Eagles and Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young and so many other bands.)  At night, she would snuggle me up on the couch while we watched TV.  We would stay up far too late, watching Hoolihan and Big Chuck. She would also tell me scary stories and scare the daylights out of me… but I loved it.

When I was a teenager and going through those awkward changes, she always found a way to make me feel less self- conscious about it.  When I started my period, I was mortified. She was the one that helped me find some humor in the situation and got me to laugh about it.

I didn’t go to college right after high school and I was very scared about starting. My Aunt Debbie was my biggest cheerleader, always telling me “You can do this,” when others told me I couldn’t.  She is the one that helped me fill out my first school loan papers and wouldn’t let me give in to all the negative talk from others. She is the one that calmed me down during my first finals when I didn’t think I would make it. Any time I had a problem, I could always talk to Debbie and she always found a way to make me laugh.

When she got married, she wore barrettes in her hair. She gave them to me later and said, “When you get married, you can wear these.”  I kept those barrettes for years in my dresser taped together with a note. I refused to wear them; not knowing if I’d ever get married but determined I’d only wear them if I did. Sadly, when I was in the 11^th grade, we moved and I lost them. I was so devastated. I cried when I told her. She said to me, “I don’t even remember those barrettes so don’t be sad about it. When you get married, we’ll think of something even better for you to wear.” Years later when I got married, she came to me and remembered that story and how sad I was.  Since I couldn’t wear the barrettes, she offered me her wedding ring as my something borrowed instead.

She is a tremendous wife and mother. She and my Uncle Tim are the couple I watched while I was growing up and knew that, if I ever did get married, I wanted a marriage like theirs. I watched her raise her kids, always treating them with love and respect.  I admire and love her so much. I hope you have a wonderful birthday, Aunt Debbie. Thank you for always loving me no matter what, for always being in my corner and always finding a way to make me laugh.

I recently challenged myself to complete 100 days of at least 30 minutes of exercise. I wasn’t sure I had enough faith in myself in the beginning to actually follow through with it but, I decided to try. It was time to get in better shape. I have two young boys that like to run and play. My main objective was to be able to keep up with them.

I wish I would have chronicled in writing how different I felt each day. I am on day 68. I know I have changed so much.

I have never been a morning person. When I started this challenge, I told my husband I would have to make time in the middle of the day to exercise. I know if I had tried to force myself into doing it at the crack of dawn I would never have succeeded. My routine the past 2 months has been to get Jacob on the bus, have my breakfast with Christopher and spend some time playing with him. About 10:00 I tell Christopher it is time for me to exercise and he can either do it with me or play while I do it.  He usually tries it for about five minutes then runs off the play. When I finish, I head into the playroom to join Christopher for a bit before taking my shower.  It has been a fantastic routine.

Today, I actually found the ambition to get up and work out first thing this morning. It was a struggle to get out of bed. Most nights, Christopher ends up in bed with me and Jim and snuggles into my like a tic. Having that nice, warm little body snuggled up against me at 5:45am certainly wasn’t giving me motivation to get out of bed. But I started slow.

At 6:00am, I told myself, “Just get up. Go downstairs and start the video. If you find you’re too tired, stop and finish later.” After the 5 minute warm-up I told myself, “Ok, that wasn’t too bad. See how long you can go.” I made it the entire 45 minutes and it felt so incredibly good to have it done! I went up, took my shower then woke my boys for school. I had the whole day ahead of me.

So, while I haven’t written about this from the very beginning, I know how much I have changed and accomplished in the past 68 days. On January 6^th, I didn’t even consider getting up that early. I am now starting to think, I just might have the energy I lacked before to tackle 45 minutes of aerobics at 6am each day.  I think I’m finally starting to believe in me… just a little bit.

We are meeting with Jacob’s teachers and IEP team tomorrow to discuss his transition to Kindergarten. I don’t know what I am more frightened about; discussing what services he’ll need next year or the thought of leaving the team we have grown to know and love these past three years.

Jacob’s first love… Miss Amanda. She was his first teacher in the PEP program.  That was almost three years ago and Jacob’s face still lights up when he sees her.  She helped Jacob find his voice when we were beginning to fear he never would.

Miss Joy… Jacob’s speech pathologist.  She helped Jacob learn how to use that voice to communicate his wants and needs.

Miss Kateri… Jacob’s Occupational Therapist.  In Jacob’s 2^nd year at PEP, when he had a teacher that could not be counted on to guide him, Miss Kateri kept him working and learning how to use his hands and work with other classmates.

Miss Lizzie… Jacob’s second love and teacher this year.  What time Jacob lost last year, Lizzie has made up for tenfold.  Unfortunately for Lizzie, she got Jacob the year I am grieving… she has let me cry to her many times… even when it wasn’t really about Jacob.

Miss Marla and Miss Kate… our Parent Educator’s that have gently and patiently guided both Jim and me through our million questions and concerns.  Miss Kate has also been a shoulder to cry on this year and was a big help in getting me motivated to move and get out of the house more, even going so far as joining me in a yoga class.

It is obvious how much you truly care about all of your students but you still somehow manage to make each parent think their child is the most special. What a tremendous group of women. We are so blessed to have had you in Jacob’s corner these last three years.

Most of the families I have met in the past couple of years have a girl and a boy or all girls. So, I’ve always thought my boys were more hyper than most kids. I mean, when I take them to another family’s home for a play date, I am always a bit nervous about how crazy they are going to be. I tell my husband, “They are like little bear cubs; constantly rolling around, throwing each other down and being generally crazy.” Today, I finally met another family with two boys the same age as Jacob and Christopher. And guess what! Those boys are just as crazy as mine!

She was walking with her boys and her dog down our street and my boys and I were playing in the yard. Her boys ran over to us and just started running around our yard like they had just done a shot of Redbull. Jacob and Christopher joined right in on the fun. While we mom’s introduced ourselves and attempted a conversation, Christopher and one of her boys started chasing each other, picking up mud and throwing it. Jacob and the other boy watched calmly for about 2 seconds and then joined in. Within seconds, all four boys were running around, screaming and laughing and throwing mud at everyone; me and the other mom trying (in vain) to get them to play nicely and calmly so we could talk for two minutes. We got as far as introductions but that was it.

As we both tried corralling our boys, we finally decided after about five minutes to try another day when it wasn’t quite so late. In all fairness to those four boys, it was close to dinner time. The closer to bed time it gets, the crazier my boys get. As she walked away, I was so happy. Not to see her leave but, that I finally met another mom that had that look of exhaustion on her face as she watched her boys run crazily around a strangers yard like monkey’s at the zoo.