Category Archives: Real Life

Blah. Shop. Put Your Bra On.

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This is off the top of my head, on my mind, blah post.

Its my week. A somewhat normal week. Other then Friday being the first day of Christmas vacation for the kids, this will be a base or normal for what my world will be like for awhile. I initially started my day somewhat pepped up. Dropped off the kids. Got some caffeine. Shared a yarn color obsession with a friend. Cast on a new cap. Listened to a podcast. But just as I just now listed all those things off, well it was all as boring as just reading that.

I probably need more caffeine (and yes, I’ve taken my crazy pills). Maybe I am tired and in a lackadaisical mood , when I really need to sit down and plan my week out. Refocus what I am doing and where I am going. What caps I have to finish each day. Workouts. Food. Future ambitions (I like the word: AMBITION. Way cooler than GOAL<— Unless you’re a Mexican soccer announcer, then GOAL is a pretty cool word).

Lists. I need a list. I love lists. Those suckers are everywhere. Nothing like the feeling of crossing something off your list. But I am in a squirrel mood. Colors, textures, sounds, all pulling in so many different directions. Cant. Keep. Still. Must. Try. New. Things.

Ahh…*running in circles in my head*, I am going to Hobby Lobby, then maybe Home Depot… Things are about to happen.

Lesson of this boring little depressed rant? Sometimes you just need to go shopping… and put a bra on …dammit should have done that first, I could take over the world now (there has GOT to be research on how you can feel better after putting on a bra, even if you really don’t have much to put in there).

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Don’t Tell Me Good Bye & Be in THIS Moment

Untitled“lll see you later”

I think I have blogged once on how I don’t believe in good-byes. To me a good-bye is permanent. I will always see someone again, either in person or online, so why should I say goodbye? Egh, I don’t like it. Its one of those weird things about me (like how I am not a fan of hugs), don’t ever tell me goodbye. Even if you say it just because you’re used to it, just know the first thought into my mind is “Why did they say goodbye? Do they plan on crossing over? Now I’m going to be twitching the rest of the day… dammit.” <— Seriously, its what I think.

Closest parting you get from me is a “Bye” or “Ciao”. If for some reason I do say “good bye” I regret it immediately and start freaking out inside, the same freaking out I get if I forget to hold my breathe or cross my fingers when driving by a cemetery, I kinda feel jinxed. I also don’t wash my bike shoes <— Totally gross, I know, but for some reason I cant do it. I have promised Mark, with the next pair I have, I WILL wash (while standing over the washing machine twitching and thinking something isn’t right with the world).

So with parting with Mark for awhile, it was a “See you later.” and a “You better answer my emails or I’m kicking your ass, Mark Hebert!!!!“. I get a kiss on the forehead, his little woman-why-are-you-so-crazy-? smile, and a smelly hug (he already reeks of the ship, does anyone else know the “ship” smell? Its terrible).

I spent the rest of the day numb. Not sad or glad, but numb. I went through the motions. Not until I was home with the kids, getting homework done and preparing dinner did I snap out of it and say to myself “Christina, be in THIS moment“.

“Be in this moment”, that could be a quote for my year.

I’ve said it during times I’ve been in family situations and even outings with Lisa, when we are with the kids and I should be having fun, living life.

I said it coming out of the swim at Ironman Couer D’Alene. I had looked down at my watch, thrilled with my time, then looked up to see the swim finish and spectators. I knew that it was going to be a long day and I wanted to remember all of it. The people, my wetsuit stripper, the cold ass ground, the crazy lady staring at me as she wondered where I was going to shove a bag of 20 fig newtons before I headed out on to the bike.

I said it in the parking lot of Tropical Smoothie here in Jax Beach. Mark and I had been fighting/disagreeing non-stop all summer. He was falling apart, so was I. A friend told me I needed to “take the ball in your court“. I remember hanging up the phone and saying “Be in this moment, what and how do I fix this”. Right there in the parking lot I sent an email to Mark and we fixed things.

I’ve said it during 100 mile bike rides. When the pain kicks in, and you are achy, covered in sweat, just sitting up in the saddle, hands on hips, staring up at the ceiling, kids screaming in the background, “Be in this moment, Chris. Embrace the pain, this is the best part. If you cant do this you cant do Ironman. Be better.”

I’ve said it during trips to the beach with Mark and the kids. The water is perfect, my family is together, take a deep breath, “Be in this moment”.

I said it at Chattajack (Standup Paddle race) about 27 miles deep. I was falling apart. We had been on the water over 7 hours (?) paddling non-stop. I could feel everything in my body shutting down. My feet, legs, core, shoulders. They just didn’t have anything left. I looked down and stared at the tip of my board, tears filled in my eyes. I wanted to cry because I was at a moment where you define yourself, not ever did I think of giving up. “Be in this moment. Stroke by stroke. You cant feel anything else but the water… No fuck that, the water is heavy. Smooth. Smooth. Smooth”. I think I lost hearing completely. I was emerged into every stroke. It happened a couple of times, then I would just start laughing, madness laughing, I would then either turn to look behind or beside me and want to beat Joe with my paddle (just cause he was there and my shoulders were burning, someone else should be in pain, he was though, we both were). Hardest thing I’ve EVER done.

I said it COUNTLESS times at Ironman Arizona. “Be in the moment… Look! Theres a cactus!”. I was 100% in every moment of that race. Every pedal stroke. EVERY step of that run. I never looked behind me, and or more than a mile in front. “Get through this moment”. I didn’t even look once at my overall time on my watch. It didn’t matter. Whatever happened a minute ago did not play into what I was doing at the moment. Also I couldn’t get to the next mile if I wasn’t 100% in the mile I was currently in.

In the end I can not think of good byes or even see you laters. My priority in life is to live and embrace the moment. No sadness to him leaving, and no anxiously awaiting his return. We both have lives to live.

Be in THIS moment. In all things.

 

My 16 Year Old Self and A-Holes

Untitled**Yeah, I don’t know why I took it, but glad I did because there are NO other photos for this post. I have no photos of my 16 year self and assholes**

I cried while running today…

Well there were tears randomly throughout, and then around mile 4, 15 seconds of sobbing.

I’m crazy. <— Thats just how I feel. The past couple of days Ive had my earplugs in again (muffling the world me). All I am worrying about is not having got in my workouts to the fullest, or keeping up with the kids, or… or…

Total zombie mode. I knew it was bad this morning. While taking the kids to school, I knew I would need to make a phone call to someone to get me calm. I need to TALK to someone other than kids. But once I started talking I knew I would break down. Surprisingly one of the people on my go-to call list needed to Skype with me (Thanks Coach Jeff, and nice seeing you, Rick!). We went over a new training platform, and talked about the upcoming months, and slightly about my sanity.

Once the Skype call was over I felt, OK. Not great, just ok. Received an email from Mark, which was nice, it had attached to it a little “honey-do list”. First thing was dropping off paper work to our housing office because we got a home on base (yay! Kinda a big deal!). This means breaking a lease, but Florida state law dictates that if you are eligible or opt in to move into government housing, the lease can be broken.

So after being sent to the managers office, sat down and explained that I would be be putting in a 30 days notice, and handed over appropriate paperwork, the manager jumped up, hurried to his file cabinet and said “According to OUR leasing agreement, you CANT do that”.

Lets stop here, remember I am just kinda in the dumps, I really don’t know what is wrong with me, I am sad, I have a list (like 2 people) of people waiting to be called because I am about to have a full blown panic attack…. Then this guy says that I CANT do something. Well I flipped the switch to my humanity (total Vampire Diaries line, get with the program), and nearly lost my shit.

Don’t worry I kept calm, but I was boiling inside. I had kindly brought in my paperwork, and even a copy of the STATE law, I thought it could have been a smooth process. Then this guy wants to tell me I signed a contract saying that I could not do something. Why do you want to fight?

Apparently they might have updated their leasing agreement stating these terms, but MY agreement says other wise. He even dug up a copy of my lease and said these things (like I would NOT be getting out of my agreement):
1.” He HAS to be active duty” <—- “He IS active duty”.
2. ” Well then he has to be deployed with a military unit for 90 days or more” <—- “He IS leaving me for 9 MONTHS.”
3. “You have to be eligible or opt in to an military agreement if housing was issued” <—-“THIS is what THIS paper states

He still made it seem like it wasn’t going to happen and that my paperwork was insufficient. I said I would call the military housing , and bring in “proper” paperwork. Thank you.

By the time I got home, I walked in, I starting tearing up. I felt as though I was pushed into a corner, that someone was going to snag our happy dream of getting a home on base away because this guy didn’t want to abide by the law. Confused I made the proper phone calls, was told the paper work I was given WAS the paperwork needed, and that those people were probably pushing me around. <—- I was being pushed around.

After the phone calls, I was so overwhelmed. Not sure what to do, and I just cant call Mark up and ask him what we should do next. So I thought, I’ll call Lisa, but I was scared I would start sobbing, not make any sense, and then the phone call would be useless (normally I would Facebook message, but I needed to TALK), so then with tears in my eyes, I pulled up my moms phone number and called her.

You know, I kinda try and sound tough “Hey whats up!” “Ah nothing here I–” <– cut short by me saying “You won’t believe this asshole over here telling me I CANT DO SOMETHING” (all tough). Then crying “MOM! I am losing my shit here, I am going crazy I am so sad, that guy was the last string, I am having a panic attack (at this point my throat started to tighten up, so I was REALLY having an attack), AHH MY THROAT! AHHH **insert choking/crying sounds** AH! MOM! AH!” <—As I sit here, I am laughing my ass off because I have to picture my self here, in my running clothes, visor on, big cry baby face, 29 years old, crying to my mom, then grabbing my throat as if someone is choking me, all the while I still have the phone against my ear, LOL, ah, its funny NOW… Thought I was gonna die 2 hours ago.

In the end my mom calmed me down, agreed the guy was an asshole (sometimes you need someone just to agree that “yes, that person is an asshole”), and that in the end you cant break STATE law and everything would be fine.

Then she said, “Do you need to run?” <— I had actually been getting ready to run, I already knew that I NEEDED to. Not because its on my schedule (because it isn’t) but because its while running that I find myself. Its running that brings Christina back to center, tells her toughen up, and things will be fine.

Its not the first time that with tears in my eyes, or to battle tears coming on that I turned to running to help me…

You know everyone shares their “Why I started running” stories or “What made me decide to do a triathlon”, and … They all sound the same to me. They all sound happy. They did it for someone else. They battled cancer. They lost weight. I ran because I needed to hide from things at home…

Normally I tell people I started running when I met Mark, so we both had something to do together, but truthfully I started running when I was 16. I lived in a state of anxiety and fear when I was younger. I was confused, I was scared. “Normal” wasn’t a word used to describe how I grew up. The biggest drive for my mom, was for me to play softball, but I hated it. I used it as an excuse though to NOT be home. To be doing something, to get the endorphins going so I was in SOME state of happy, though I hated it all the same. So I would say I was going “running” to be let out of the house, and I did go run, but not for the workout to keep me in shape for softball, but so I could be out of the house, then run HARD and feel the burn and hope it take the sad away. I didn’t look at running as RUNNING, it was an escape, this is what my mind and body wanted to do, I wanted to run away.

I always ran the same route, and I would always cry. I actually had designated cry zones, I knew the tears would come, but I cant be flying down Foothill Blvd (big street) with tears in my eyes. I would have hot tears while running by my middle school. It’s here in the cry zone that I would imagine my future self running with me, she would come because I needed reassurance that things WOULD be better, that I would be happy one day, I imagined my future self because she is the only person I trusted. Deep down I knew I would grow up one day and be out of this mess, so I needed to imagine I would be happy one day. Hell I imagined her telling me jokes, she was so strong and laugh things off, most important she promised me things would be o.k. . By the time I got up to Foothill I’d wipe the tears away then run as hard as I could to my first street where I would run up to Hillcrest.

I chose my route based on memories that made me happy, and by peoples houses that were “normal” and had let me in and let me experience what a normal family was like. It was up in the foothills that I ran away from my problems, and was just happy running up a damn hill. I also chose these streets because I felt safe knowing that the next block held someone I knew so if something was wrong, I had a house to run to.

First street was the street of the boy who was my first kiss, I would always run by his house so embarrassed, and just think how funny the whole situation was. Once I got to the top of the hill I would make a right, this street was always cooler, I don’t know if it was because I wasn’t running up hill anymore, or that it had a breeze, but it was the favorite part of my run. Beautiful “homey” houses, and I would name everyone I knew that lived either down or up the intersecting streets.

My half way point was was a big white house that lived a family that forever will be in my heart for so many reasons. It was always a warm and inviting place, so it was a happy mid-way point, “my half-way happy”. I continue on to Ivy (name of street), its here I would stop and stand in the middle of the street and look down into the  valley. It was so beautiful right there. No matter how unhappy I had been, by this time, I had no clue why I started running, and would just stare at the lights below. I walked down the most part of Ivy, it was a little steep and just killed my knees, plus I was always scared I would trip and break my ankle, then my mom would kill me. Also I loved the houses. I loved looking into the homes of “normal” people with “nice” things, people that seemed “happy”. Every other run I would choose a different house I would live in….

Coming back down into where I lived I slowly brought myself to reality. Back to the real world where the endorphins were rushing through me leaving me feel strong, and mentally ready to tackle whatever was to come. I always sprinted the last block home. It was thrilling, even now I remember the feeling, the smell, the sweat on my forehead, my ponytail …

Thats how it started, my happy place. Coach Jeff would always say, “You hate running”, no not true. Running is so much more to me than a sport, its my life, its my peace.

So yes, mom. I did need a run, and I happily ran my heart out on my treadmill. WAAAY harder than I should have but I needed it, who gives a shit about heart rate, I ran to where I needed to feel a little burn, its that burn that makes things better. It “burns” out the crazy.

Ya know, people always comment or ask : “how can you run on a treadmill?“.  I normally say something like its good mental training and allergies get to me (which they do), but in reality I dont run on a treadmill, I run the streets I grew up on with a 16 year girl who didn’t know who she was. I tell her jokes, give her strenghth, and reassure her that things will be better. ” Chris, you will be stronger, you will be loved, I promise God has so much in store for you, but let’s run faster because I love this hill…”

You Just Kinda Want It

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Yesterday morning I hit the snooze button one too many times. Sleep, sleep, need more sleep. My little Chloe sounds like Darth Vadar and she invades my room at night, silently slipping under the covers, but once she falls asleep I feel as though the house is gonna come down she is so loud. I ended up slipping into the guest room at one point, only to have her sneak it 5 minutes before the alarm went off.

Damn, I was tired. After dropping off the kids I came home, did my same morning routine: eggs, bacon and caffeine. But I felt like a zombie, face felt puffy, I drank a little more water. Just wasn’t mentally there. I decided to cut internet time and read a bit, but 2 pages in I had no clue of anything I just read. Could I sleep? I just had a red bull, I won’t be able to fall asleep. Oh, but I did.

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Was smart enough to set an alarm before dozing off. I told myself, only 1 hour, because I need to make it to the gym in time for a swim. That 1 hour felt only as if I slept 5 minutes. I didn’t want to get out of bed…. Get up!. No, just 5 more minutes. I lay there and reevaluate the time I have to make it to the gym, swim, shower, then pick up the kids. I cant magically add minutes to the day. Wake up! My body wasn’t tired, I was just in this weird mental fog. Man I could probably sleep for days right now.

Then laying there like a schmuck, I thought of a line from one of my favorite motivational YOUTUBE videos. I love this video (click), I’ve listened to it on repeat for an entire 3 hour trainer ride once. One of my favorite lines from the video is from Eric Thomas : “You just kind of want it. You don’t want it badder than you want to party. You don’t want it as much as you want to be cool. Most of you don’t want success as much as you want to sleep. Some of you want sleep more than you want success. And I’m here to tell you today that if you want to be successful you got to be willing to give up sleep.”
IMG_0584IMG_0582You’re gonna be tired 10 hours into an Ironman. How you gonna wake up and be able to paddle another 45 mile day? Learn to work tired. You just KINDA want it don’t you? Get the heck up! <— Me talking to myself as I threw myself out of bed. It was hard to get up. I bitched (sorry for the language, but its really what I did) around looking for my backpack, clothes, food, water and more food. I got my headphones in and my jams going, and slowly woke the heck up.

You cant just kinda want it. You have to make sacrifices.

No this is NOT my job. Yes, you need to rest in order to recover (but this wasn’t the case here, I slept 8 hours the night before). And for the people that I have to say that to, well zip your trap, because YOU only kinda want it.

What happened was pushing through MY excuses and getting things done. I needed to swim yesterday. It ended up being a great swim. I fought a little inner battle. Seriously, Ive thrown myself into some hard things. I’m limited on time. I actually think of Mark in situations like this, I don’t know how many times he’s said “how bad do you want it?” <— Not exactly like that, because if he did I would probably throw a shoe at his head, but he slips it into conversations, and it pisses me off so bad, I usually go and get whatever it is done.

Make a choice. Just decide what it’s gonna be, who you’re gonna be, how you are going to do it. Just decide.” – Will Smith, again from THIS VIDEO <— Just watch it… On replay for 3 hours… It’ll change your life.

 

Drugs.

IMG_0579Drugs. Boom. Yep. I take em.

I dont abuse drugs, but am prescribed some. With being open about my crazy, I recently shared that I was off my meds for a bit. A friend used the word “vulnerable” to describe me sharing that. At the time reading that comment I popped a piece of popcorn in my mouth shrugged my shoulders, looked side-to-side and thought “vulnerable” to who? <— ‘I’ll do what I want, you don’t know me”

I knew what she meant though. There are 2 sides (and a fuzzy middle) on how people look at drugs for depression. There are the extreme people that think you should naturally ride it out, DONT poison your body, or think you are crazy for taken meds, or they look at your different for HAVING to take meds. Then there is the other extreme of people that say “Yeah, I am effin’ nuts, drug me up“. Oh, and let me throw in the people that have been told/recommended drugs, but don’t, but desperately do them, but they are so crazy that they won’t take them because they think they’re fine (those people are fun, eek).

Um, lets say I am somewhere in between. I go through cycles on knowing that I should, but I think “Hell! I feel great, I am eating clean, in incredible shape, I love my life, I CONTROL my life, not some stupid little pill!” <— Yeah, stupid cocky me is pushing it out that the glue which holds the amazing together IS that little pill. So I fall off the wagon, refuse to call in a refill, which then leads me into insane withdrawals that leaving me feeling like I am going to die. Eventually you break through, feel fine for a day, and then with a smack in the face realize why you WERE on that pill. Anxiety attacks, and a roller coaster of ups and downs. Not having Mark home, and feeling like that? It sucks. WTF was I thinking. Then it takes forever and a day to get back to normal.

You shouldn’t have to HIDE that you need a small pill. But we do. Its embarrassing. Its a form of weakness. You get judged. My favorite is getting judged by the people that don’t understand what exactly they are judging you for. *Sigh*

Now be who you want to be. Back to the first paragraph you may be far right, far left, fuzzy in-between, and or plain crazy. It’s ok. Free choice people. I am happy for you. WHATEVER WORKS FOR YOU.

Remember though, its doesn’t mean that you ARENT strong enough. A lot of us are tough, and want to break through on our on. I get that, if so let someone help, or talk about it. Don’t let it bring you down. <— I say all that, but I, myself wouldn’t say anything to anybody until I am completely falling apart. 

So yeah. If you have a problem with me having to take a small pill to keep me level…
Well I don’t give two craps what you think, and please don’t let the poison of nastiness running through you drive YOU crazy.

**Multivitamins, crazy pill and allergies pills in above photo**

But WHY do you blog?

IMG_0683It's running time. But let's stretch that IT band first, arrrrrThis post started on sharing WHY I actually blog. Why do I express myself? Why do I share too much or not enough?

Selfish? No. To me this is my special place. Its just a little public, but its as open as I’ll ever be. Recently with the Knitty Triathlete being on lock down (for unknown reasons), I felt as though something was being taken away from me. That blog has 8 years of my life on it!

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Yep, 8 years. There are times I go back into time to read about what was on my mind, catch up with my writing style then, or just to see photos of the kids. I’m sure to some, my blog looks like a selfish place. Or a …?? I don’t know.

In the end this is my place. I let YOU in. I’m not here to boast or brag, but share MY life. So again, with the Knitty being down, I couldn’t STOP. I was on a roll. Yeah, sure there can be months of me not blogging. But I am on a high on life. No one can bring me down, not even “404 errors”.

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Again, I was going to share more on WHY I blog. So I started digging for photos to share on this post. I came across A LOT of photos. Flashing back through all these pictures, was a reminder to MYSELF why I blog, because no matter the up/downs/crazy I have a wonderful life and I appreciate everything and EVERYONE that has made my life amazing.

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My life is colorful. Colorful people. Colorful places. Ive traveled and lived half way across the world and from coast to coast. This blog, is for my family. Marks family. My distant family. My adopted family.

I guess in the end, I don’t need to explain why I do the things I do on here. You can see with your own eyes. You can feel it in my writing (or not, hope I could at least make you giggle).

So after learning to crochet yesterday I made the hubs a beanie, but Chloe decided that it's hers

The people in my life have made me fly. I met SO MANY DIFFERENT people. My friends range from Rockstar Ironman to Ultimate Quilting Queen. Some of my most comfortable moments are cuddled up on a friends couch, knitting along with other women ranging in ages from 17-70.

My life has had thrilling moments: being attacked by raccoons in Florida, and petting a bear in Indonesia. Breath taking moments running through the National Rocky Mountains and flying down down the side of a mountain going 38 mph on my bike in Coeur D’Alene, Idaho. Friends and Family have made moments like that possible.

IMG_4417Do you see that smile on @runningcaveman face? Pure happiness!!

There are also depressing reasons why I blog. I try not to be down, hell I cant read a post on depression without feeling depressed. But I have been truthful with it, no matter how taboo, or legitimately crazy you actually think I am. TYPING has helped get so much off my mind. Words I cant say. Hell there are been days when I can NOT talk. No words.

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My kids are adorable and CRAZY. So much personality, it makes up for whatever I am missing. Heck whatever BOTH Mark and I are missing. Just right there I could write for days on laughter and temper tantrums.

As much as they nearly send me over the edge, they are right there with Rapunzels hair helping me  climb back on top of the world. Seeing their Dad in them helps me tremendously. When he is not here, it feels as though he is when I look into Chloe’s eyes. <— That was cheesy but its the truth.

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The people I have met because of this blog are unreal. I LOVE LOVE LOVE catching up with readers and other bloggers. I seriously want to cry every time I meet one of them. Because you know they know a deeper side of you. Its a crazy feeling.

Its also crazy to meet a reader, that you DONT realize is a reader, and they seem super stalker, and you stand there scared and wonder how they know so much about you. Then they end the conversation with “I love your blog!” <— The relief and feeling of idiocy rushes through me, I’ve had this happen a couple of times.IMG_5140IMG_5472.jpg

This blog is also for family I don’t talk to. Please don’t think I am purposely ignoring you. I just don’t like phone calls, they are awkwardly uncomfortable. Also, I feel this is the best way to share with you what is happening. Trust me you will get more out of these posts then you would via a phone call.

I am sorry there aren’t more pictures of the kids. I will work on that. But check out all the photos in this post! Gotta love em right!? P.S I miss you guys (both my side and Marks side of the family).IMG_5408.jpgIMG_1475.jpg

I blog for Mark. He isn’t here much. Its his silent way of stalking me. He actually never says anything about my posts. For the longest time I was pretty sure he didn’t know that I had a blog.

One day he asked for me to print out a certain set of photos of the kids that I had in a post from a couple weeks prior. I turned to him and said “You read my blog?”, without even dropping the magazine he was reading he said “Yeah, I always read your blog. I prefer your daily posts.” <— He said it in such a classic monotone old man voice of his. Though he didn’t seem like it was a big deal, I was pretty happy (flipping OUT) that he actually reads my blog. Hi Babe!!

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Sometimes people need to know I am alive. I will actually get FB messages, texts, emails and phone calls from people I rarely talk to because they are scared something happened to me. You guys are sweet… and scary….

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I also blog for the set of people that contact me every way possible to let me know that they enjoy my blog, and they don’t want me to stop. I always think, its just my life, cant be that interesting? But sometimes even the simplest of things can have a story if told right.

But honestly, thank you for reading. It makes me happy inside to feel someone cares. Because I just don’t look at you as a “fan” but as a caring friend that can sit through and read through my crazy life.IMG_6195.jpgIMG_0193

Secret: But I kinda hope you like the photos, because I am not a fan of taking photos. You are probably calling B.S but its true. Since I was a kid, I did everything I can to avoid photos. I would smile with my mouth closed, and be so nervous. I was an ugly tomboy kid, man I went through a terrible ugly stage (heck you might think I am ugly now, its ok 🙂 )

My teeth. Hated them. I am still very embarrassed. There are times when old photos from middle and high school get posted, I want to instantly un-tag myself. I get so scared. But I calm down, its ok, I am alive, who cares. Not until later in life did I appreciate taking photos. Appreciate HAVING photos because I really don’t have ANYTHING (but a stash that I cant find that my mom really wants back)in the photo department.

Every selfie I take is a small heart attack and victory <— Truth.IMG_6283.jpgIMG_6411.jpgIMG_6867IMG_8172IMG_8935IMG_8946IMG_8913IMG_8822IMG_8666.jpgIMG_8624.jpgIMG_8490.jpgresizedSome Hebert Boys!Ice cream sandwiches! Ohhhhhh yeah!Loaded up! Should be good to go! Both bikes just in case :) Karaoke ALL the way! #rev3williamsburgFor my #knitting ladies :) #roadtrip half way there!#Q50 trail race!!!! I'm melting in the athlete meeting but this is AWESOME!!! #trailrunning976717_10151811477784122_570734515_o#teamprsfit putting tri bikes together! Rest of the campers are here! #tricamp @coachprsIMG_9176Catching the rides at #rev3cedarpoint @imtrigirl @rev3triUntitledThese kids have TERRIBLE nutrition manners! :) #runntri#GONAVY We are ready for some football!!My crazy lovies :) good morning!IMG_9321In Jacksonville where it all started:) Happy New Year time :) back to the real world tomorrow.We're working out, working hard and taking over Savannah :) @coachprs#familytimeScreen Shot 2014-02-25 at 12.38.32 PM#PRSFIT party at the hard rock!!! #girlsnightoutIMG_9752#gopro Goscope arrived! Just in time for tomorrow's #roadtripThe post was turning into the longest one EVER (next to the IMCDA post I am working all for KAY). Hope you understand a little of why I do the things I do in blog world. Thank you for reading. Thank you for messages.

Hope you have enjoyed a little bit more of me. Also thank you to EVERYONE in the photos above. You guys have made life interesting, and we’ve had some fun times.

C’est la vie!

Seeing the world through earplugs…

UntitledI’m just not in a happy place.

What can I do for you? Honestly, nothing. You could offer me the world, and it just doesn’t interest me. *twirl hair*

The kids fight back with everything I say. A simple “Please go to your room”, is followed up with SOMETHING. Please? Why not the first time? But right now I don’t care. Stomp all over me. I just don’t give a shit. Just want peace.

My face is numb, and I feel as though I have earplugs in, and I am SEEING the world through earplugs. Does that make sense?*twirl hair*

I am desperate for an email (from Mark). This isn’t a real deployment and it makes me sick. How am I gonna do 9 months? (Right now the strong Christina is screaming up at myself “YOU love being by yourself! Shut up! You say this now, but once you let me out you will be fine!”). I’d still like an email. I’d be happy with one word.

Untitled

I wanted to cry watching the cartoon Pound Puppies this morning, I should have known THEN that something was going on.*twirl hair*

Do you need to eat? Nah, food has no taste right now. I get up to go to the bathroom and nearly faint washing my hands. Maybe I should eat.

This food sucks. Kids demand more food though they have ate, and I haven’t yet. May I eat first? When will your gratitude and or understand that you are being a little shit kick in? (Seriously people at what age, and don’t tell me it gets worse as they grow older).

Damnit I need the treadmill. I’ll never get these runs in. They (the kids) just don’t want me to run. I’m a failure at this. Can I jenga it in? No. Just do it tomorrow. *twirl hair* *twirl hair*

Untitled“Mama, are you ok? I love you”… I know baby, mama just needs to sit down, here cuddle with me. Cuddles for a moment then leaves to body slam brother, crying is involved, they aren’t running to me, they will be fine, someones laughing, they’re fine.

I should be doing something right now, I cant remember. *twirl hair*

Damn she needs help. No I just need a damn moment.

Sometimes life catches up. When you are physically & mentally exhausted from the constant grind. I feel as though my mind is going a million miles a minute. At all times my priority is the kids. Especially with Mark gone. This is a one man show. A one man show running all this. Keeping kids happy, morale up for a husband on a ship, and to keep myself level.

Can you help? No. Wait, yes. Realize that this isn’t always me, but sometimes it is. At moments like this, I need to ride it out. I’ll be back.

To those that understand ALL THAT that just happened up there, thank you.