Fishing

I took my kids fishing today. Alone. I've never been fishing alone in my life. I have always relied upon the expertise of my father or whatever other man was there to tell me what lure to use, how to bait the hook, how to cast the line, how to get the hook out of the fish's mouth, where to fish, how to fish, how to cast...I haven't gone fishing since I turned 16 and needed a license to do so. Just...never really seemed important, though I do enjoy fishing, so I deferred the option to the kids' dad when they got old enough to want to do it...figured it was something he could do with them that he would enjoy. Fishing is fun. Fishing is something I can do with them right here. We were going fishing.

I walked into the store and quickly got my sticky gloves and my needle nosed pliers in the tool aisle--those were things I knew I wanted (Walmart is good for this anyway...one-stop shopping). I have no problem touching fish...but some of them are prickly, and...well, I don't know which ones, to be honest. And since I would be the only grown-up standing there at the river, I had to be able to yank whatever came out of the water off those poles. I headed over to get my license, approached the rods and reels and bait, and just kind of panned from one end of the aisle to the other.  I had no idea what I was looking for in that aisle, despite my crash course on what kind of fish I would find in the river and what kinds of things they would like. Like...what the heck is spinnerbait (it has too many prongy thingies on it and I knew I was going to have ripped-apart fingers with those)?? Do you know how many different boxes full of contraptions that all look the same line this aisle? And they are so not the same. I know now. Because the woman who stood there and told me she spends more on fishing tackle than she does on shoes and clothes told me so. I think she took pity on me when she noticed the blank stare on my face. Honestly, I don't know if she actually knew what she was talking about. But she sure seemed to. She started talking about "chartreuse" and "pumpkin seed" bait thingies and how power bait had a scent and all this stuff...woo! Point me to it, lady! I will put it in my cart. Frankly, I didn't even care. I wanted to fish. I wanted to take my kids fishing. Who cares about the right lures?? We live half a mile from the river. Let's. Go. Fishin.

We got the license (which has the wrong address...I need to go fix that), grabbed a few groceries (yay, Walmart!), and quickly made our way home. I strung up the poles, ripped the stupid reels off the inexpensive poles I got two of the kids to make them actually function (found out later I screwed something up in the process, I think), tied jigs on the lines, opened up all the tiny little packages and stuck them in the tackle box (with the pliers. and scissors.), and we drove to the river (the plan was to walk, but, umm, by the time all of that happened, we had an hour and a half until the girls had to be at youth group. and supper to prepare/eat. we drove). The walk to the river from the car...proved interesting. Hehe. The kids do not like walking through  deep grass next to the river...apparently there are critters there. And, actually, I confirmed that, long about the time I wasn't watching ahead of me, but rather talking behind me, and stepped directly into a woodchuck hole. Hehe. Thankfully, I just smashed my finger and didn't break a leg. Which I wouldn't put past me. On a fishing trip to the river. Sheesh. We found our spot on the rocks, and the kids cast their lines.

I learned a lesson from my dad somewhere along the way...when taking kids fishing, if you bring your own pole and think you're actually going to fish, you're just going to wind up frustrated. You spend more time untangling lines, baiting hooks, pulling hooks out of fishies' mouths, running back and forth between children, rescuing kids from falling in the river...it's just a better idea not to even bring your pole. I did not take my pole.

It's a good thing.

Within 5 minutes, Bryson has "caught" a submerged tree. Cut line #1. Re-hook and "bait" and sinker line #1 (by the way, I have no idea what to do with sinkers. Or hooks. Or bait. I don't care.). 2 minutes after Bryson hooks the tree, Reasa has hooked something waaaaay out in the river (a rock?)...and can't reel anything in (see above paragraph regarding the disassembly of her reel). Cut line #2. Spend 15 minutes attempting to untangle the mess of line inside Reasa's reel. Finally give up and resort to scissors, put the thing back together, shaking my head, promising to hand it to my dad the next time I see him so he can show me why I can't make the thing function.  Child #1 (Reasa) splooshes her muck boot allllll the way into the water, resulting in giggling and screeching (after she gets over her "I'm just a disaster! I break everything I touch!" tirade. Oh my GOSH she's so 12.). Laine gives Reasa her rod because, frankly, she'd rather scope out the rocks and see how many times she can slip on them and how many brush burns she can aquire (sigh. why did she have to inherit THAT quality??). At one point, I kid you not, these words came out of her mouth: "Oh my gosh! Mom! I just found spam!!" She also found several walmart bags and picked her way through the rocks, collecting junk so we could take it home and declutter the scenery. Love that kid.  Bryson did wind up getting a couple of bites. The river was stunningly gorgeous, despite the road noise from the Dennison Parkway bridge. And we saw a couple of big...somethings...jump out of the water out in the middle.

I warned the kids that if we pulled in any giant muskies, I was cutting the line. The end.

I suck at fishing. But we had a great time. The hour we spent at the river...we will so do again. Next time I will suck at fishing just as badly...but I still won't care.

Fun lessons learned, text messaged to my friend mid-process:

Lesson 1: One adult per two children. Not three.

Lesson 2: Buy the better rods. Even for the kids. Especially for the kids.

Lesson 3: The kids don't care if they catch anything. It's all about casting the farthest.

Lesson 4: Extra. Jigs.

Lesson 5: Laugh. Who cares about fish?

Looking forward to future lessons. :)

Learning

Have you seen the show on...I don't even know what channel it's on...Nick?...Destroy Build Destroy? I mean, I don't really blame you if you haven't. It's irritatingly tween-ish. My son totally loves it. Because seriously. They BLOW STUFF UP. And swim in gunk. And walk on quicksand. And cool boy stuff like that.

The thing is...I really, earnestly feel like the title of that show...is my life. More specifically, is my kitchen. If I actually documented the amount of time I spend in my kitchen on a given day lately, I fear I would want to give up this business. For the simple fact that no one should spend that much time on ugly linoleum flooring looking at yellow hieroglyphics on her countertop. Barefoot. Covered in cornstarch. Slipping barefoot in cornstarch I have poofed all over the floor (that's what it does when it comes out of the box. It POOFs. Breathing confectioners sugar dust. While a fine layer settles all. over. my. house.

I'm learning what it means to be a working mom. Only...I'm working in my kitchen. Constantly. While my children entertain themselves with the Wii, their laptops, the television, and the 19-month-old who wanders through babbling endlessly (I so have to get a grip on this).  This has become a 60-hour-a-week job. If it doesn't get done during the day...I do it at night...sometimes all night. And it often doesn't get done during the day. The kitchen is destroyed for breakfast, rebuilt for cake construction, destroyed to make 9 batches of buttercream, rebuilt to serve lunch, destroyed to knead 4 batches of fondant and cover a cake or two with it, rebuilt to come up with a dinner plan, destroyed to sculpt gumpaste figurines and form gumpaste hydrangeas and gerbera daisies, and rebuilt so I can go to bed without thinking about the disaster I left behind. Mostly. The number of times my girl has said to me, "Momma, when will we see the counters again?" is laughable, actually. She's joking...and she knows she's going to make me giggle when she says it...but there is truth behind it.

I'm learning that Relient K spurs me to action. That Brandon Heath would be a soulmate if we were to meet in real life. That my kids can function just fine on their own, but that I hate that they can. That my house is very easy to keep...semi-tidy...but the finer details of cleaning and organizing are definitely lacking and that I have to be ok with that right now. That an allowance for helping me around the house might be the only way I live through the next...10 years. That three cakes to serve more than 100 in one weekend...is too much. Even if they're all straight buttercream. I'm learning how to say no...sort of. I'm a lot better at "I want to help you...but I think I might lose my mind if I do." I'm working on it. I'm learning that I need people. That the Paleo diet keeps my skin clear. That Asylum is fun for 30 days, but that I can't wait to get back to something else. That snuggles from a 19-month old who isn't even mine warm my heart in a crazy way, that teary, angry coversations with a 12-year-old that end in snuggles FILL my heart, and that a day-long, sporadic text conversation with a dear, old friend makes me smile. Big.

I'm learning.

Day 11

Day 10: One-On-One Fountain of Youth Yoga, Calories burned: 105, average heartrate 87

Day 11: Gameday, Calories burned: 450, average heartrate 135

Gameday is a great workout, although long at 60 minutes. It hits several different sports: track and field, soccer, football, wrestling, speed skating, swimming, baseball, rock climbing. There's tons of variety, so you're always doing something different, and oh, my gosh...when it's 75* at 7:00 in the morning, you're seriously always sweating. I'm getting stronger, but I'm a little afraid that my endurance is waning a bit. The thing is...that's totally not a big deal. Until next Friday night. When I have to run 3.5 miles. And there has just been no way I've had time for double workouts in over a week, and no running has taken place. Ugh! 

Last night, Relief was on the agenda, but I really needed more than 25 minutes, so I popped in some yoga. I commented to a friend that Asylum is making me strong. The slow pushups and the pushups between vinyasas usually kick my butt, but last night...they really didn't feel like that big of a deal. I sweat like crazy, but wasn't wiped out by the end of the workout. It gave me exactly what I needed at the end of the chaos of the day. If only my house had cleaned itself while I did the workout...

This whole week, actually, feels like chaos. In addition to working through some totally normal and expected tween hormonal craziness, I had a cake that took SOOO much longer than I expected to spend on it, and on the hottest day of the summer so far, of course (and add that to the cake that I had 2.5 hours notice on...smack in the middle of Crazy Cake preparation). Working with fondant when it's 95 outside is pretty much an exercise in futility. The gumpaste did not want to dry--even the flowers and butterflies I made the day before weren't firm when I wanted to put them on the cake. And rice krispy treat turrets? Yeah right. Those babies were skewered into the cake to the point that, seriously, they couldn't move. I tried to press a brick pattern into the fondant...it laughed at me. By that point...I did not laugh back. Also...tomorrow night is my 20th High School Reunion. Yes. That's right. TWENTIETH. And I don't have a clue what I'm wearing. Oh, I've shopped. Dresses and tops and shorts and capris and pants...I'm about at the point where I think I'll go in jean shorts and a tank top. 

Not really. 

But it's tempting. 

Have to take the baby and hopefully a helpful child with me when I go (again. for the third time)(i hate the mall) this morning. At some point I also need to color my hair, highlight it, make 3 batches of cupcakes and three different frostings (did I mention it's going to be 88 today?), deal with the disaster the house became during the cake crazies, make sure the kids are packed for the weekend, learn a new song I am supposed to lead for worship this weekend, get the girls to a horse lesson, go to worship rehearsal, and do my nails. Which I keep breaking. 

AAK. 

I need to get to work. 

Also, I have the best kids. Who have recently discovered how fun it is to have a little one around the house. Not sure what took them so long, but glad they did. On my busy days and when I need their help...I am glad AND grateful. 

Day 9

OK. Here's the Asylum Check-In:
Day 5: Rest
Day 6: Speed and Agility, Calories burned: forgot the hrm
Day 7: Strength, Calories burned: forgot the hrm...
Day 8: Back to Core, Calories burned: 250. average heartrate: 126
Day 9: Vertical Plyo, Calories burned: not sure...last time was 300...forgot to put my monitor on. I should really do that.

I'm going to post my Response to Vertical Plyo video again because...well...it's just confirmation. Crazy confirmation. Confirmation of crazy. Whatever.

That's right, folks.

I hate this workout. Hate it so much, I wish I had it a couple more times a week so I could conquer it a little more quickly. Next time I have it...is a full week from now. Tomorrow is Relief...which is a blessing...but Thursday is Game Day. During which I might actually fall over. Yikes. I think I may actually do Relief tonight and Yoga in the morning. For the record, my most-sore body parts are my thighs--inner and hamstrings. Youch.

This is hard work. When I finished Vertical Plyo tonight, Bryson came up to me and said, "Whoa, mom. That's GROSS!" because I was literally dripping.  It made no sense to shower quickly because I think my core temperature was so high...I would have just dripped again as soon as I got out.

An observation: I'm having a hard time remembering to eat with the craziness of my schedule. It's affecting my energy and my performance during workouts. This...is a lesson I need to learn better.

Day 4

And this is how I feel about Insanity the Asylum, Vertical Plyo:

I went through this workout seriously feeling like I had never done anything like it before...and I definitely have...just not quite this psycho. I did have fair warning. Oh. And the hair/lack of makeup/serious sweatiness...yeah. That's what I look like at 7:14 am. It's better by 8. Mostly.

When was the last time you double jumped with a jump rope? For a minute? Lateral jumps as long as you are tall? (actually, I had to shorten my ladder for that one--so it's only about 4'6" or so) Yeah. Vertical Plyo. The workout I dread. By week 4, I have to kill it. Or I'll have to do another round. 

I have to kill it.

Vertical Plyo, Calorie Burn: 300

Average Heart Rate: 136

Day 3

Asylum, Back to Core: Calories burned, 225
Average Heartrate: 106

Probably the area of my body that needs the most work is my core. I always say "stomach" when I finish that sentence, but after today's workout, I would definitely say "core." This workout is KILLER. I felt muscles I haven't felt in a long time--a lot of them in my lower back. That should prove interesting tomorrow. The warm-up? Basically 6 minutes of jumping jacks with shoulder work. I made it through it...but kind of feel like if I can do Insanity warmups, I can do anything Asylum has to offer on the warm-up front. There's a section of floor work where you're specifically targeting your back and core by doing a couple of swimming moves...brutal. The lat pull-downs with a resistance band killed my left shoulder...I know it's not right, but I'm trying to ignore it, and this workout didn't let me ignore it. The hardest part for me was definitely the reverse plank work...very hard on my shoulder and my left wrist (stupid gymnastics)(not really), and I was sinking in my hips before I wanted to be. At the end of the workout...I felt good. I will hurt like a maniac tomorrow...but today it felt good.

I love this program. I know I'm only three days into it, but I think this has the resistance piece I've been missing in Insanity (and not as hard core as P90X). I do miss the straight cardio every day, but a friend reminded me that sometimes we hit plateaus in our weight loss or progress because we get stuck in a rut. I'm definitely stuck in a cardio rut. I am missing the muscle building that I got started last summer and because of that lack of muscle building, I'm also not burning fat as efficiently (as is evidenced around my middle). I really hope this kicks it up for me. I think when I finish this round, I need to be more conscious of adding in resistance workouts throughout the week, no matter what program I choose. I still don't know what I'm going to do after this round.

I didn't wind up doing relief last night...I ran 3.5 miles at the gym instead. I have decided that I sweat like a man. I mean, yay for sweating out toxins and burning calories, but jeez. Don't talk to me about "glistening." I am a sweat factory. My chest strap for my heart rate monitor needs to go through the wash daily. And might need a serious deodorizing soak. Blech.

Tomorrow: Vertical Plyo. When I will die. Wish me luck.