Y'all, I just CAN'T!!!

A new wave of craziness in the form of health is sweeping through America and I just have to step up and stand up for what I think is right (and sane). Although I applaud the folks out there who are detoxing their bodies by eliminating sugar (gasp!) from their diets, I'm only being honest when I say I SERIOUSLY can't imagine a day without ANY sugar in it. Perhaps there's a little bone of jealousy when I witness those perfect bodies sipping their 6th (!) bottle of water that day, abs so cleanly sculpted I wonder how babies ever came from that body. Okay, yes, I would love to be the kind of person who never has a coke, a cookie, or a Cherry Lifesaver, but I know myself too well, and that's just NOT gonna happen, y'all!

So for today, just for fun, I'm going to play devil's advocate and ponder just what might happen when one (specifically me) completely eliminates sugar from her daily activities. Here goes:

1. Baby Tate decided not to sleep much last night and Mom (me) has several classes to teach this morning. A Coke would really get her going, but no, she's given up sugar and must survive on Water???? to get motivated to run 6 girls 8 miles on a treadmill. Not much hope in that one and my runner girls leave the Y with hardly a drop of sweat on their Nike t's.

2. I've regrouped and later in the day I head out for a run in the Georgia heat. I make it, feeling great, and round the corner to my house. This time the sweat IS dripping and nothing would be better than to cool off with a popsicle on the back porch with my boys. But, no, this mom gave up sugar, so that popsicle has to be replaced with um, um, I still don't know, while I watch Popsicle juice drip from their sticky little fingers.

3. Homemade Ice cream-- how in the world am I going to teach my boys how to truly be Southern if I can't share with them in the timeless tradition of peaches drowning in sugar and cream, dipped from an aged to perfection ice cream maker. I can't stand the thought of my handsome boys headed to a fraternity party at the Ole Miss KA house and tasting their first-ever porch-churned ice cream. Fraternity brothers would gasp, little sisters would whisper, and they might get black-balled. And why? Because years ago their mom gave up sugar! Not on my watch. And while I'm on the subject of food, let me just throw out two more uber-important words: banana pudding.

4. I've already mentioned how much I love weddings (as long as I'm not a member of the party), but really WHY on earth would I get all dolled up on a hot Southern Saturday and not plan on ending it with a big sugary slice of wedding cake? What am i trying to prove? Along those same lines, can I add tail-gating, baby showers, retirement receptions, and church picnics where the dessert table literally calls my name? I might as well stay home in sweat pants and do laundry if I'm going to forgo the goods on the table.

5. Finally, I have to end where I stared, because really, I think numbers 2,3, and 4 could (with some help from Dr. Phil) be erased from my day, but I absolutely COULD NOT give up my Coca-Cola. At the end of a marathon, my awesome husband waits for me with a cold coke; same with child birth-- I had an iced down Coke in my hand within minutes of delivering my Tate. And if I won the Superbowl, I WOULD NOT be going to Disney world; I'd be going to the World of Coke.

So there, just a sample of why this world (and my little family) is a high functioning, happy, and all-around better place because of sugar.

Back to Reality (TV, that is)

First of all, I want to say thank you to ABC for bringing back a second season of "Bachelor Pad." The old me would never have admitted to poisoning my brain with the kind of television trash that would make my father roll over in his grave; but I'm a big girl now- I'm married, have a mortgage, three kids, and if I want to watch seemingly normal people behave in ways that make ME blush, by golly I will. The Bachelorette hasn't even picked a husband yet, and already the network is teasing me with little bits of the show full of rejects from seasons past who want ONE MORE CHANCE at love. And by love I mean, of course, fame and notoriety.

Secondly, an even bigger thank you goes out to Jake and Vienna who can't get enough of each other, yet can't stand each other. Logic would tell most folks that if you make a fool of yourself once on TV in the name of love, then going back on TV in the name of hate isn't going to fare much better. Alas, TV is good to us and the "most Talked about Bachelor break up" couple will entertain us once again as Bachelor Pad contestants. Based on the teasers they previewed during Monday night's "hometown" episode of The Bachelorette, Jake hates Vienna, Vienna hates Jake, his pilot days are waaaay over, and Vienna just can't stop crying about how mean Jake is. Talk about good TV!! I can't wait.

All I have to say to Tucker and Tanner is, homework BETTER be done, and you kiddos best be in bed by the time my "stories" come on, 'cause this is DEFINITELY not PG material. In fact, if word gets out that I watch (read: love) trash TV, my very livelihood as a Sunday school teacher may be in jeopardy. Heck, I may even be moved to the back row in the choir loft. Well, it's a risk I'm willing to take. Till then, reality TV friends. The countdown begins . . .

A Race in the Life

I was placing Tate in his car seat on an early, early (way earlier than school day) Monday morning, and he looks at me with his sleepy-eyed self and says, "Mommy running?" Well, yes, I just about died at his ability to be precious at 5:30 in the morning, AND this was July 4th and Mommy's favorite race was just hours away. Apparently, Tucker had taught Tate how to say running and race the night before, and to say I was delighted would be like saying I kind of like a Coke now and then. I was over the moon!

I've been running for years, at the track, through the city streets, on the treadmill. I have my favorites, but when one won't do the others are just as good and I leave each place with that awesome sense of accomplishment that keeps me coming back for more. I can't really describe the feeling I get when I'm running, or why, despite the aches and pains that develop after too many long runs, I wrap, ice, elevate, take Tylenol, change shoes, whatever it takes to get back at it the next day. I can't explain why I set the alarm for the crack of dawn just so I can log a few miles before the craziness of the day sets in. I can't pinpoint what it is that makes me leave a warm bed and bundle EVERY body part before the sun even starts rising to huff and puff with the other "addicts" who understand me so well.

I do know that despite the lack of running camaraderie at my house (Coach said he did his running in college), this whole house, right down to the littlest supporter, lets me do my thing. Coach is more than willing to take the boys out on a Saturday morning and piddle around town (aka breakfast at Waffle House) while I train for whatever is next on the calendar. Shoot, he'll even watch film with the little man running around the office while I plead for just 12 laps around the track and 30 minutes of Mommy time (not sure what the other coaches think of that but we'll worry about that later). Tucker (during football season when Daddy is catching much-needed z's) plays the role of big brother at its best, trucks, Disney channel, monster under the blanket. Even Tate became one of the best stroller babies I could ask for, challenging me to run, push, and TALK all while picking up errant matchbox cars as we were logging our afternoon miles. And Tanner, well, Tanner is patient enough to wait on his cinnamon toasts until Mommy makes it back from the track.

Truth be told, I feel so good every day once I've gotten my run in that I know I'm a better wife, friend, mom, homework helper, organizer, kitchen cleaner, player chauffeur because of it, and I think they know it too! Blood-free brawls don't bother me, kool-aid spills don't affect me, lost shoes not a problem, 4th grade math a breeze. It all works itself out when the sweat has been spilled. Maybe I CAN pinpoint why I do it; maybe the feeling I get is confidence; maybe it's so self-explanatory that it requires no words, just the smile on my face when I finish a 6.2 or a 13.1 and I see all my guys cheering for me at the finish line. And maybe that's why when every day feels like a race (and some days an uphill race), I lie down at night, feeling like a winner in my age group who just clocked a personal best!