Apparently I'm feeling much better, because I am beginning to think clearly (well, somewhat clearly) once again, and I also seem to have the energy to do strenuous things like blogging. My brain is full of random thoughts. I figured the best way to get them out is by blogging about them.
First off, my little boy (who is 2 now!!! WOW!!) is the sweetest little guy EVER (no offense to anyone else and their little boys or the child in my womb if it just so happens to be a boy). But seriously, Zack is sweet as can be. Last week he was busy at work playing with cars or doing something else that is very important to a two year old. Then he stopped what he was doing, sat down on the dog bed, and said "pray." He then proceeded to fold his hands together, and bow his head. About 2 seconds later, he looked up and said "Amen," and then went about his playing.
I just stared at him, and thought to myself "did he really just stop everything and pray?? And where oh where did he learn to bow his head and fold his hands??" We do our best to pray with him every night before bed. It generally involves a family hug, while either James or I prays, and while Zack lists off names of people he feels we should pray for. At the end of the pray we all say "amen," and then James and Zack usually cheer, saying "yay, yay, yay!!" as loud as they can. This is clearly not what Zack was doing. I talked to his BSF children's leaders today, and sure enough, they are doing their best to teach the kids to bow their heads and fold their hands when they pray. They were both excited that Zack did this on their own, and so am I!!! Sweet boy!!!
Second, I would like to provide a brief recap of my morning. I am trying to get ready, and Zack is asking to play with playdough, or "paayyoooough" as he calls it. So I give him some playdough and sit him at the table. About 2 minutes later, I hear crying and Zack comes running into the bathroom. He says to me "mama, paayyoooough, dog-dog." I say, "did Walter eat your playdough?" Zack's response, "yeah." He and I head out to the kitchen and sure enough, there's Walter, licking his lips and sniffing the table, hoping for another tasty morsel of playdough. Rotten beagle.
And lastly, I can now be called "Karen the Pregnant Walk-Runner." Since I spent most of the last 2.5 months in a nauseous fog, I didn't do much running. I did do some walking, and have recently started a run/walk method. I've done this a few times around the neighborhood, and more recently, I've been using the treadmill (seriously, it's waaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyy too hot already!!! Pushing the jogging stroller, AND being pregnant, don't help. I'd have to run super early in the morning, but I'm so crazy hungry when I get up, I can't even think about anything but eating. So, the treadmill during nap time is where it's at!). Pre-baby growing, I would try and bust off 3 miles as fast as I could, always seeing how close I could get to 25 minutes. That's no longer the case. Today I ran/walked 1.5 miles in 19 minutes, and I consider it a victory. I'm so crazy competitive with myself. I'm having to remind myself that now is no time to be setting new records for myself! There will be plenty of time for that once I'm done growing a person.
And that's about all I've got for ya.
No comments:
Post a Comment