Last night

I saw a magazine ad that said, $500 for the best way to motivate yourself to workout. I thought about it and it didn't take long before six little faces popped into my mind. Every time I struggle to give up or quit little blue eyes stare back at me. I accept myself quitting on me more than if I quit on my kids. I divide whatever I plan to do into six parts. If I am running a mile and a half, then I brake each quarter mile up and dedicate it to one child. Then I picture that child's face and think of the strengths that they bring to our family.

The first face I picture is my oldest son, Tucker. Tucker is an amazing kid. I was so blessed to have him as my first. He is strong and kind but he always loves everyone for just being themselves. I try to focus on how what I am that moment is enough.

The next face I picture is my oldest daughter, Elora. Don't let the name fool you, that child is tough as nails. She is tiny and beautiful but the toughest, strongest tomboy I have ever met. She doesn't care what other people think about her, she is true to who she is. I try to focus on being me and not caring what others think.

The third face I picture is my graceful stunning beauty, Belle. Belle likes to look her best. She loves veggies, fruits, and water. She won't put a single thing in her mouth that isn't good for her. She has told me many times that Heavenly Father gave her a gift of a healthy body and she needs to take care of it. I focus on treating myself with the same reverence that Belle shows to herself.

The next face I picture is my sweet baby girl, Ella. Ella has a huge heart and loves to help other people. She is constantly trying to see what she can do for others. I try to focus on how being healthy allows me to be a better mother, wife, and friend.

The fifth face I see is my crazy, energetic son Bruce. That kid loves life! Everything is a game including cleaning. He enjoys whatever he is doing. By the time I get here, I usually want to quit. Instead I enjoy what I am doing instead of thinking about the pain. I enjoy the outside air or the music I'm listening to and tune out my quads that are screaming to stop.

The last little face I picture is my 2 month old baby boy, Bear. A new beginning, a new life, a new start. I think of his sweet face when he falls asleep or how he will give me a small smile. I picture going through the labor process and I know I'm strong. I'm able to do anything.

By the time I am done, I know one thing, I don't need $500. I'm blessed more than I can ever express gratitude for. However, I will work for college funds.

Eye on the Ball

I never played sports as a kid. I am fairly athletic; at least, I think I am. We will overlook the fact I am painfully slow and a bit clumsy. I wanted to play and am positive I would have been a superstar.

So I have done what any good American mother does, live vicariously through her offspring. It could be the reason I have six of them, offspring that is, to make sure I cover all the basics: baseball, football, soccer, dance, and gymnastics.

Sometimes, if the planets align just right, I can get a couple of glorious sports all in one day. Those days are spent bragging about my abilities. As my oldest daughter kicks the winning soccer goal, I proceed with my "she gets it from me." My son's base hit, of course, "he is just like his mom." When my middle daughter is trying out for gymnastics, I assure them that, like her mother, she is talented. Even when my youngest daughter reminds a fellow classmate that she is blocking her spot center stage with a "gentle" shove, I claim credit for that with a "she has her mama's temper."

Most importantly I have learned a thing or two from my, I mean, my kid's time with sports. Like a few months ago while my son was at batting practice, I had an epiphany.

My son hits like Babe Ruth, either smacks it out of the park or strikes out. My son's coach stopped practice and had a heart to heart with him. "Son, stop looking forward. Your eye needs to be on the ball so you can see where to hit. I promise if you hit a home run, you will hear your mom scream loud enough the whole ball park will know did."

Wow, how many times have I done that? Not screamed really loud but become so focused on what's behind me or in front of me that I lose track of what's next to me. How many times when my oldest was younger did I wish he would just grow out of a certain stage but now I would give anything to go back to when I was "cool" and steal hugs and kisses? How many times did I tell my daughter to be quiet when she was telling me a story and now I can't get her to tell me about her day? Those sleepless nights that the only comfort I received was "this will pass" are now haunting memories of when I was honored enough to spend quality time with the most amazing spirits I have ever had the privilege of meeting.

I am blessed to have six little sweethearts on this journey with me. I try to remember that when my two year old pours shampoo, toothpaste, shaving cream, and glitter on my carpet all in one day. This time, I try to laugh because the love I show him this moment will outlast the carpet. When my newborn cried at 3 AM and I have to be up at 5, I am trying to take the time to get to know my little guy and steal those kisses before the sad day when he won't want me there to kiss away his troubles. If I want a healthy fufilling relationship with my children in the future, then I'm going to have to keep my eye on the ball right now.

My Favorite Breakfast

I don't know how some people skip breakfast. There is no way I am going to make it through the day with no fuel. I get up at 5 most mornings and have six kids plus Blake out the door by 5:30. Anything that takes too long isn't going to work for me. Enter my favorite breakfast, egg whites with veggies and oatmeal. Before you start to turn your nose up like a five year old does to lima beans, let me explain.
I start with diced green, red, yellow, and orange peppers. I found little peppers at the store that don't have seeds in them. They take almost no time at all to cut up and I usally do it the day before. Then I add onions. I put that in a bowl with two sprays of I can't believe it's not butter spray. Next I add liquid egg whites. Put it in the microwave and instant awesome breakfast. Then I make oatmeal that I add blueberries, raisins, and walnuts. It is soooo good and I feel full (not to add great) the rest of the morning. Cheers!

Yoga

I hate yoga, really I do. Maybe that's why I decided that I had to do it. Something about the quiet and peace just isn't right. I have done yoga before, heck I even taught it but the thought of holding some painful pose while taking deep breaths just seems like some cruel torture.

Today I made my first class in a long time. As I walked in the negative self talk, I shall call her Silva, and I met. It went something like this,

Silva:"Hello Amy, how flabby you have let your arms get this last pregnancy."
Me:" Hey, I just had my sixth kid. That wasn't very nice."
Silva:"Speaking of kids, you left them. I bet they are crying. You're a bad mom and they will never forgive you."
Me:"I love those kids."
Silva:"Just go home and eat a bag of chocolate."
Me:"Shut up, Silva."

Stupid Silva! I finally got her quiet when the girl from the child care came and got me. My dear lovebug Bruce hit a kid. (Don't start Silva.) Elora asked when they told me what happen if they said who won. The way she saw it Bruce was winning before they broke them up. She thought he would have taken him in the next round.

I made it through the class and I am glad I did. It might be the only time today or this week as a matter of fact that I can take the time to focus on my breath.