Author Workout

My mother yearly gets me a subscription to Prevention Magazine. I'm not sure what I'm trying to prevent, as I've already had thyroid cancer, surgery on both feet, two back surgeries, four baby deliveries, enough stress to last a lifetime, and an extra twenty pounds have found a new home in my almost 40 body. Most months I peruse the pages of Prevention and find tidbits of info that interest me. However, this month about six pages caught my eye.

The pages contained lots of pictures and the title "Walk Off Two Sizes In Two Weeks with this fun boot-camp style workout." Ok, so does the title make this workout sound fun to you? Boot camp has never been my idea of a good time. So, I thought I'd read further.

I am already a walker. Ever since I took a job as a server at a nearby restaurant, I have walked more than my fair share. Each shift I work I clock about three miles on my feet. I work about four to five shifts a week, so that is pretty good. On top of that, I have four kids to keep up with. I run behind and beside bikes, I play basketball against my oldest, we take family bike rides, so you get the point.

Back to the boot-camp workout. How about trying it, I thought. Maybe it will do this body some good. This morning was day number one. The workout is something like this:

Five minutes of brisk walking (3.5-4 miles per hour) followed by 30 second breaks where one of the following is added before doing brisk walking again: High knees walks, the walking lunge, traveling squat, backpedaling walk, high step skipping, the shuffle, the crossover, incredible push ups, the bear crawl, the wood chopping squat, the crab walk, and the rope climb.

DOES THIS SOUND LIKE FUN? No, but it does sound like boot camp. They got that part right, at least.

By the time the whole workout was over, I spent exactly an hour sweating buckets. I spent 50 minutes on the treadmill (3 miles) broken up by bits and spurts of crazy moves like putting an old thirty-something though the bear crawl. Oh my goodness, it is a good thing no one else was home or could see me. I'm sure I looked utterly ridiculous.

I seriously doubt I'll lose 20 pounds or even four inches from anywhere on my body, but I am going to try to stick with this crazy boot-camp fun-filled workout for six weeks, at three times a week. That means that I have 17 more of these one-hour-embarrassingly tough-sweating profusely-workouts. That is only 17 hours of my precious time over the next six weeks. I can do that, can't I?

In order to keep my focus on the completion of this minor task, I am going to try to blog about it once a week. I'll let you know if my mind can master the matter of boot camp or if it is way too much for me. I'll share my moments of exhilaration and my points of frustration. And if you care to join me on this mind-blowing adventure, get a Prevention magazine from October 2009 and look at pages 88-94. Let the boot camp begin!

Kindergarten Homework

Tonight my son, a kindergarten, brought home homework, for the very first time in his precious life. His assignment? Write his name correctly three times using that wonderful triple-lined paper that teaches children to round their letters ever-so-perfectly, and count aloud to twenty a few times.

David has watched his sisters do all kinds of homework over the last few years. Kaitlyn, his oldest sister, musters the energy to learn pre-algebra, negative numbers, properties, and the like. Rachel, the next oldest drills on lists of 25 spelling words, Bible memorization, and long division. Meagan works on reading for thirty minutes a night, long addition and subtraction, and multiplication tables.

So one can only imagine the reaction of the sisters when David's homework was to write his name three times and count to twenty. "Just wait, David. Pretty soon you'll be doing a lot more than that!!!"

David's reaction to his first night of homework? "I hate homework."

Now in all honestly, David did not hate his homework. In fact, he sat right down with a sharpened pencil in hand and readily got to work making nicely rounded letters for his name. He didn't need Mike's help. He knew how to do it all by himself, he said. Well, he needed a little help making the letters stretch to fit the first and third lines, but when he was finished, he relished his success. He was proud of his accomlishment. He had tackled the world of homework for the first time, and he was victorious.

While he was counting to twenty and missing number fifteen, my mind flew back to his birth, the times that his sisters were in kindergarten, and I thought about how fast they are growing up. David will get to do homework for another thirteen years, give or take all of his college and graduate years. For now, he says he hates it. But I am praying that he will continue to feel that awesome sense of fulfillment with each educational step he takes. In all actuality, pretty soon he will be doing long addition, negative numbers, reading for thirty minutes, and studying spelling words. We'll be by him helping him every step of the way and cheering him on to whatever God has in store for him.

Kindergarten homework. Who would have thought? I'm glad he gets to share in the joys of homework. One day later this week he gets to draw a picture of his teacher as his homework. If he still hates homework by Thursday, maybe he'll draw a VERY interstering picture of Mrs. West, even though he loves her.

Typos Run Amok

Ah, the ever present typo. I am a former English teacher and author, yet I must continue to deal with the infamous typo. I know what I want to say, how I want to say it, and the best time and place to say it, but I must also consider the typo. I have been a paid editor for English papers in a local college preparatory high school, and I am good at finding typos. Well, let me clarify that a bit.

I am good at finding typos in other people's writing. In my own, I see what I should be seeing, not what I am seeing. Did you get that? Regardless, here is my philosophy on typos, in regard to this blog, all of my personal (not professional related) e-mail, texts, etc. Oh, wait! Texts are one enormous typo, so they don't count in the mix anyway...more on texts in another blog.

And yet I digress...my philosophy on typos: I will try to avoid them at all times. However, after I've given my blog a once-over to check for the nuisances, I'll simply save the post and move on. I don't have time to re-read over and over, and by the time I do that, I'll lose the idea that I was trying to convey in the first place.

Please don't get me wrong. Editing is vitally important. I pay an editor to go over my professional work with a fine tooth comb searching for typos. I have been a paid editor looking for typos. However, for the purposes of this blog, I shall render all typos powerless. Thus said, "Typos, you have no dominion over my blog posts. If you appear, we shall all simply ignore your presence and enjoy the purpose and focus of each blog. Move on and pepper someone else's page, please!"

Back to School!

It is a sunny, quiet Monday. The kiddos are back to school for yet another week. If my calculations are right, they only have about 38 weeks to go until summer break rolls around again. Do you remember those times? The sights and smells of a new school year can hardly be rivaled.

My husband in a first grade school teacher whose heart beats to the rhythm of the school year. About five weeks before his contract begins each year, he starts meandering through the school supply isles at Walmart. He picks up, plays with, and tests all of the cool, new school gadgets. He pushes the buttons, tries the levers and smells the crayons. He needs this time to begin dreaming of his classroom.

Each year Mike, my hubby of a two years, turns his regular first-grade classroom into something amazing. Last year the kids were in outer space all year. This year they are on a cruise ship with Mr. Purcell. Birds fly around the room via battery operated string toys, nets filled with crabs and star fish dangle from the corners, and life preservers display the school rules. His classroom is truly a sight to behold.

Oh, and let's not forget Snoopy. Mike has been a Snoopy fan for years. The border of his room is always Snoopy, and Snoopy guides the way for many other things that happen in that magical place. It makes me want to be in first grade all over again. But the best part of it all? Well, the room looks fantastic and inviting, safe, and fun. But the best part is that much learning will take place on that cruise ship over the next 38 weeks. Addition will be introduced and mastered by many. Students will learn to read for the very first time. Some kids will fall in love with their new-found abilities and show them off for anyone who will listen. One may even be on the early path of becoming author!

And it all begins in the heart of someone who cares. Someone who cares enough to spend many days of his summer break preparing for the cruise that he'll take with his first graders. Someone who loves the children he teaches. Someone who still finds value in the little accomplishments of the wonderful people in his life. My thanks go out to Mike and all the other fabulous teachers who impart more than an education to the children. A dollar figure cannot measure the value of their sacrifice for the children. Have a wonderful 09-10 cruise everyone!

I am an author. My first book is in publication, and I am fervently working on my second book. It goes without saying that authors have a lot to say. And this author is also a female, so words are always looking for a way of escape. My children are back in school, I have time on my hands, and no one to hear my words, thus, I've created this blog.

I am new to the blogging world, although it has been around for ten years, apparently. Those ten years have been spent birthing and raising children, so it is no surprise to me that blogs and millions of other things exist that I am not aware of. But for today, I'd like talk about those ten years.

I am in my late thirties and have never truly felt "old" before. However, recently I took a part-time job to help bring in some extra funds. I am a server at a local restaurant where I am about twice the age of all of my co-workers and ten years older than all of my bosses. That is such a very bizarre feeling. In my late thirties, I am being treated with kid-gloves and looked at with awe mixed with revere. Why is that? Do I look like a tray of food is way too much for me to handle? Does my back curve? Do I walk with a stoop?

I do lack the energy and stamina that most of my co-workers seem to have, but then again, this body has given birth to four children, I keep my house functioning, I am an author, a cancer survivor, a faithful wife, an active church member, etc. They attend high school. Regardless, we all get along nicely primarily because I am the ancient one.

So, in the end, I hope they get the message that I am working to fill in the gaps for my family. Even if having a thirty-something person working at the local restaurant is weird, it is right. We must roll with the times, even if they are tough. Sixteen or thirty-six. I will gladly (okay, well sometimes not so gladly) put on my apron, face the world of adolescence and do what I can to provide for the needs of those I love.