This morning, I made the worst decision of my life.
Worse than the time I decided it would be okay to walk through the mud in my dress on the way to my junior prom (dumb).
Worse than the time I decided to eat IHOP for breakfast and then Olive Garden for lunch and then attempt to squeeze into my wedding dress. Yes, those are the meals I ate on my wedding day. (duuuuuuuuuuuuumb.)
What's up with me and ruining my dress for formal events? Is that psychological?
You see, this morning I decided to run at 5:00 a.m. when it was 19 degrees outside.
Though it's no secret that I'm not a fan of winter, I do enjoy running in cooler temperatures. Even down to the 30s. After a block or two, my body heats up and I am fine. It's like running in the air conditioning. I'm also motivated to not slow down because I don't want to get cold again.
But this morning, I didn't even check the temp before heading out. The second I stepped out the door, I realized it was cold. Super cold. I maybe could have handled that, but--oh the wind! And I wasn't properly dressed for it.
Nevertheless, I told myself to carry on and I would be fine. But I was not fine.
I did my normal loop and by the time I was on my way back, I started imagining my imminent death and wondered--How is my family going to identify me? I figured that because my face was now permanently disfigured from the wind beating it mercilessly, I would have to rely on the hope that no other girl in her young 30's has an entire Pandora station dedicated to Hall & Oates.
But I persevered and arrived back home and checked the temp. And then I vowed to never exercise again. Not. Worth. It.
In other news, yesterday we made sugar cookies. This was my first time ever doing it with my kids. Of course, June wanted to help with the mixer. She started out doing a great job, but one time pushed the knob just one increment too far, and then . . .
Flour everywhere. Everything was a total mess. I was SO mad. Dan came up the stairs at just that moment and began to laugh uproariously.
May he rest in peace.
Despite the mess and the long time the cookies took, we had a great time and the cookies were yummy too.
We frosted a couple, but then it was time for bed. So we froze the rest and will frost them another day.
This morning, I tried doing some cute girl hair and failed miserably.
First off, this is what the top of June's head looks like now that she's given herself a new cut.
Oh my Billy Ray Cyrus.
But with a lot of water and a lot of hairspray, we managed to get it like this:
I also did the most darling thing to Gwen's hair. This style took 4 minutes to do it and then only stayed in 2 minutes. That's a bad return on my hair investment.
I wanted a picture of the front too, but of Gwen objected.
Speaking of Gwen and objections, I've been really trying to figure out how to parent her better. She is a doll, she's fun, she's spunky, and she's going to kill me. She's very stubborn. This morning, she was spitting at the breakfast table. I told her to stop. So she spat. So I told her to stop. So she spat.
So I finally just stared at her. I always hear people say, "When I was a kid, all my mom had to do was give me one look and I stopped doing whatever I was doing." I have not had success with this, but I decided to really try to channel this "look" power this morning.
So there we were at the breakfast table, staring at each other. I wouldn't even allow myself to blink. And Gwen stared straight back, with her tongue close to her lips, ready to spit again.
But I continued to stare. And finally she looked away.
And then she looked back again. But I hadn't stopped staring. I wouldn't stop.
Finally, after maybe 2 to 3 minutes, she started begging, "MOMMY PLEASE STOP LOOKING AT ME."
And then I was satisfied. I won a fight with my three-year old!!!
You can see what these children are doing to me. Recently, I made a pb&j for one of the children, threw the dirty knife in the sink and turned to give the sandwich to the child. But the sandwich was gone. I looked high and low and found it in the sink. Where I had not placed a dirty knife at all.