Coming Out of "Hiding"

It’s been about two years since I’ve regularly blogged. I could blame it on several things:

• Getting a new job (teaching third grade at the same school as Ryan--I love it!)
• Coaching track with Ryan and manning the weight room together in the offseason
• Different technology (camera hit by a basketball, phone hard to get pictures off of, have to log out of one account and into another in order to blog)
• Boys getting older and being in more activities (3 in baseball, 2 in basketball, 1 in choir and a running book club)
• Boys getting older and not saying/doing as many cute and/or bloggable things
• Laziness

The boys have asked to read old blog posts a few times lately, and we’ve all died laughing at their little-kid antics. I’ve been struck by the fact that I have forgotten SO much of our day-to-day life! And so, at the boys insistence (“You need to blog more!!”) and for the sake of preserving memories, I’m going to try to chronicle a bit more of our crazy life. Here’s a jumbled blob containing what I want to remember about our life from the past two years (what I can remember of it) and right now:

• Reed had a hard time adjusting to his new school. He and I braved third grade at the same time. It was an adjustment for both of us. He liked his teacher, made friends, and did well, but he still would’ve picked returning to his old school if given the choice. A few months into fourth grade, he finally felt like it was “home.” I knew this when he finally told me (with hidden tears) that it was ok to throw away his old school shirt-- It was a monstrosity - ripped like the Hulk.
• Calvin had a great first year in first grade. He didn’t really play with anyone at recess, but he, in true Calvin style, didn’t care. He said he was friends with a few boys, but they were playing “a stupid zombie game” at recess, and he didn’t want to play, so he just did his own thing. The friendships became tighter somewhere between then and now, and he has tight buddies (who now play basketball instead of stupid zombie games).
• Max has grown up so fast! I honestly don’t remember what he was like last year, and that makes me super sad. This year, and even these last few months, he has grown up in so many ways. He (sort of) ties his own shoes and has started doing big-boy math and reading. He’s all the time making up math problems (Two biscuits plus two biscuits equals four biscuits!) and he’s just started trying to read words (he sounded out “pause” - “paws-ee” from the treadmill in the weight room yesterday morning). He is super ready for kindergarten - and we are ready for him to be with the whole family (and save us almost 40 minutes of driving a day!)
• Coaching track with Ryan has been amazing! The first season is a bit of a blur, but it was crazy, stressful, successful, and usually fun. This season started super stressful, but went so well that I really only have fond memories! It’s been really nice to have a shared passion. We don’t always see eye to eye, but overall it has been really good for our marriage! I feel like we are a real team--more so in our community than even at home! This summer, I even started going to his cross country conditioning sessions and running with some of the girls. Distance running is SO not my thing, but I’ve really enjoyed it and gotten to where I can run much longer than I ever could before!
• We put new flooring in our living room, halls, and one bedroom and have done a few little improvements, but we’re starting to dream about moving--maybe even building--a little closer to work. Just praying and dreaming right now, but it’s fun to imagine the possibilities! The boys like to play a game where we each design (out loud, usually in a car) our dream house or backyard or car. Most recently, we perused Pinterest looking for the ultimate swimming pool. Calvin settled on one in the shape of a foot--with five hot tub toes. There would also be a slide, diving board, sunken trampoline, and nearby fire pit. This is the most realistic dream design we have created to date. Most of the other plans involve robot servants and teleporters.
• Life is great! I feel like I have arrived as a mother! The boys are self sufficient (they put away their own laundry, make their own breakfast, and have even started cooking supper together one night a week), portable (we take them with us to conditioning every day. They happily read or play at the park while we run and take turns looping around to check on them), and fun (they are creative, genuinely funny [sometimes] and so fun to watch in sports)! They are also loud, annoying, and fight like dogs. I oscillate between thinking I have the smartest, most talented, most wonderful young men on the planet and wanting to lock them all in a sound-proof padded room, not caring who emerges alive. Such is motherhood, I suppose...

Not-So-Great Expectations

Our local booster club is hosting a 5K fundraiser next weekend. Under great duress, I signed up for it. I guess it would be pretty bad if the track coach/wife of the cross country coach didn't support 1) the booster club and 2) running. However, lest there be any unreasonable expectations of this track coach/wife of the CC coach, let me point out a few things:

- Yes, I ran track in high school and college, but I was a hurdler (100 meters) and jumper (70-80 feet down a runway). The longest race I ever ran was the low hurdles - 3/4 of a lap around the track in high school, and I begged my coach not to make me do it at every. single. meet.  Also, that was 17 years ago. Also, I have had three children since then.
- Yes, my hubs is a stud. But last time I checked, spousal abilities don't transfer. Ask Ryan to sew some curtains (or pick his clothes up off the floor) if you don't believe me.
- Yes, I coach track. And I thought I would get in shape from the endeavor, too. But when you miss the running portion of the work out because you're driving 40 miles round trip to pick up your munchkin, that doesn't happen. The only thing track did for my physique was cause me to eat more McDonald's and give me less time to run it off.
- Yes, I volunteer in the weight room, but the bench press doesn't make running any easier.
- Yes, I ran a 5K a few years back, but that was the ONLY time I've ever run nonstop for 30 minutes. Any other jogs involve walk breaks every 5-10 minutes.
- Yes, every week I yell stuff like "Power up that hill!" and "Come on! Show them what you're made of!" and "You gotta move on that pack up there!" at Ryan's team, but for that, I now apologize! (Please don't give me a taste of my own medicine next weekend, guys!)

I went for a jog today to see if I could still run 30 minutes without walking. The good news? I did it! The bad news? The pace was so slow, it'll probably only get me about 0.5K.

Maybe next year the booster club will have a pie-eating contest fundraiser. Then I can really show them what I'm made of!

Mommy Workouts

It is well-documented that my work-out efforts have been sporadic since becoming a mother. Being fit? A definite dream of mine. Working out? Ain’t nobody got time fo’ that!  Even with a return to coaching (track - with the hubs!), I’ve been less active most of these last 12 months than I have been--ever! But a few recent incidents/revelations have me back on an uphill swing. First, at Ryan's Dash of Color fundraiser, this stud of a mom: 

photo taken by Karen Belcher of Crooked Creek Ranch Images

pushed her two sons in a double jog stroller for the whole, hilly 5K race and beat half of the Cross Country team! A week later, my friend Laura, the triathlete/Boston marathon runner started a blog with this post. I know I’m never gonna be of the 4 a.m. variety, but she still inspires me to up my game at least a little bit. Finally, I went to summer weight training for my school’s athletes and was super impressed with one of the other female coaches, who has been training hard since having babies and not only looks great, but also beat me in 40 meter sprints even though I’m a track coach and she was being trailed by her 18 month old.

I may not be as hardcore as these women, but they have inspired me, and I thought that maybe I could offer moms of youngins, a few workout ideas from my stunted past to get started. When it seems like all you do is care for children all the time, all the days of your life, some exercise is better than no exercise.

• Zumba, Just Dance Kids, or any other active video game, especially if it’s competitive and you have little pros for your competition. You wouldn’t think you could work up a sweat blocking leaks in a janky aquarium under the sea, but I’m here to tell you, you can!
• Kiss attack - chase your “way too cool for a kiss” boys around the house and wrestle them to the ground so you can plant a wet one on their cheeks. Realize you may be faster than them, but they can corner a lot better than you!
• Take your kids on walks, but race them up (or down) every hill. Circuit training with built in trash talkers!
• Dump your kids in a muddy ditch at the bottom of a steep hill and tell them to play to their little heart’s content. Hike up and down the hill as many times as you can make it--or until someone has to go poop.
• Help your little monsters wrestle Daddy. Get really ticked off about how much stronger he is than you as you struggle to get out of submission holds. In vain. With three helpers.
• Run laps around your house, stopping every 3 minutes to do push ups, sit ups, crunches, lunges, etc. for 2 minutes before running again.  
• Trampoline circuits - 1) Put kids down for a nap, 2) Jump on the trampoline for 10 minutes, followed by jogging near your house for 5 minutes, 3) When your big kids come out to see what’s going on, let them join in the trampoline time, but only one at a time so you can keep your jumping more vigorous. Try to “knock me down and keep me down” or “rocket launch me.” Also, try not to cuss out loud until you’re out of earshot on a jogging portion of the workout. 4) Die a thousand deaths.

One day, your kids will be old enough to drag with you to the weight room for summer conditioning. You will do box jumps beside your kids and high school kids and feel like you are REALLY working out again. And then you will thank the good Lord in heaven above when your little one has to go poop. A “final wipe” will never feel so rewarding!

All In

My hubs is a coach. Not just any kind of coach. He's the all in kind. He sits home crunching numbers for hours after races. He researches training techniques, injury treatment, shoe types for overpronation. He knows what overpronation means. And he loves his sport, but he loves his athletes more. He agonizes over the girl whose mom barely lets her stay for practice, knowing that she might have to quit and then do no telling what during her after school hours. He stresses over how to get the boy he knows can run minutes faster to believe it himself. He gives me motivational pre-race talks without even realizing he's doing it. He sets goals with his runners and his team--and his heart breaks when they don't achieve them. Then, he gets back up and figures out how to make sure it doesn't happen again.

We have a yearly end-of-season party at our house, affectionately dubbed "Laytonfest" by his team a few years ago. You'd think the basketball goal and trampoline (we bounced the springs off of our old one) were for our own kids, but we didn't wait until Christmas to purchase them. We did make sure they were assembled in time for Laytonfest. That's what this team is to him - his kids. And when they're wrestling with my little boys and drinking my hot chocolate, they're my kids, too.

My hubs is a coach. And I couldn't be more proud!

Summer "Break" So Far

Whew! I'm not sure where our first four weeks of summer went, but they're gone. Here's a peek at what we've been up to:

- Ryan (with help of secretary Tobi) coordinates a first-ever fundraiser for his Cross Country team - a Dash of Color 5K and mile race.

collage and photos by Karen Belcher

photo by ESP (Eric Shrum Photography)

photo by ESP

photo by ESP

photo by ESP

photo by ESP

- Bigguns start summer school at their new district! This requires two trips to town a day - one at 6:45 a.m. Luckily, it still gets good ratings!
- Ryan and Tobi start and coach a club track team, requiring four practices a week, four weekend meets, ordering equipment, begging hurdles off of a high school, lots of paper work, and tons of tracking down teenagers to try to keep everything going!

- Ballplaying four nights a week. Daddy coached Cal's T-ball and Reed's parent pitch teams. Two weeks of rain required an upgrade in our texting plan, due to all the "Is the game cancelled?" conversations.

Thank you, Sherry Long, for taking photos. I've been a major slacker!

- Max tags along to almost every game and practice and we try to keep him happy (which is not easy when every time he tries to race a runner they "beated" him!)
- We babysit our two-year-old niece during her Daddy's work times for a week. I still can't do piggies.
- Two bouts of sickness.
- Minimum of 16 trips to town (20 mn one way) per week
- Trip to Kansas to visit family. A great time by all!

-  Usually-nine-hour drive home from Kansas with frequent pit stops for a child with diarrhea.



Did we overcommit? Probably. But we survived, and, after one more week of ball and track, July looks free and clear!

Fun Run

I'm no runner. Yes, I ran track in high school and college, but my longest event was the 300 meter hurdles and I begged every meet to scratch that race. In college, I only had to run a few steps down the triple jump runway. My husband coaches Cross Country, but I think he and his athletes are insane for running anything longer than a lap around a track.

But lately, I love me some morning runs! Not because I feel good while running (I don't.) Not because I am gaining great physical results from my efforts (I'm not.) No, the primary reason I look forward to limping up and down the crazy hills surrounding our house is because NO ONE CAN TALK TO ME!!!

 It's just me, the dog, and the iPod for however far I can trudge in 10-15 minutes.

Then I pull out the earplugs, turn around, and walk home to the sound of sweet, sweet, silence. Once I'm in that door, it'll be nonstop jibber jabber for the next 12 hours. Some of it will be cute and funny. A lot of it will be annoying. So, I'll endure the puffing, panting, and burning calves for the moments of freedom they provide - and for the sanity it gives me to walk happily back to this crazy life I love so much.

A Unique Family Tradition

Well, it seems we’ve started a new Thanksgiving tradition. For the last two years, someone has thrown up on the ride home from Grandma and Grandpa’s. Last year  it was Reed and I who started the tradition. This year, Calvin kept it alive. When we were almost to our house, he told us his tummy hurt. This is fairly common, since all three of our boys get a little woozy on curvy roads, and there is no such thing as a straight road in our part of Missouri. Then he started crying. This is also fairly common, since all three of our boys can be slightly dramatic when they’re not happy. Then he burped. Once again, pretty common. The splash that followed was not. I had a bowl in hand (another road-trip standard--if we don’t get to the car with snacks in bowls, there will be a whine-fest), which I stealthily whipped around behind the seat and managed to keep level, though my arm was twisted in a very awkward position. He wasn’t through, but it didn’t help. He missed, sending the next round all over my hand and floorboard.  Round three made it to the bowl, though I don’t think it really mattered at this point.

Ryan pulled over and we did a makeshift clean up job before we headed for home, just five minutes away. Calvin was pretty upset with the puddle in his lap. I spoke in my calm, comforting mother voice, disguising the disgust over the smell of my hands, reassuring him that as soon as we got home we would get him all cleaned up and he could lay down and rest. “What!? But I wanna play!” was his response. We determined he must not be that sick. It must just be a bad combination of too much pumpkin pie and motion sickness.  The bath he took at home confirmed our suspicions. Homeboy tore up the bathroom, splashing like a whale for 15 minutes, all the while making his signature Calvin sound effects before I finally made him get out and get dressed.  I didn’t even try to make him lay down. Instead, I finished cleaning up the carnage. Turns out, it wasn’t too bad. See, we were driving the truck. After cross country season, the floor boards are buried in socks, papers, and the XC team’s lost-and-found collection (which, btw, I totally pilfer when they remain unclaimed). So, I just threw all the crap in the washing machine and threw away an unused package of cone cups, and that was pretty much it. I guess this year I can be thankful for Ryan’s disorganization and Ryan can be thankful that the new tradition helped him get out of cleaning the truck himself.  

Sports Widow

I am a widow from mid-August to early November. During this time, the wonderful hubs’ time and energy are consumed with cross country. He is the sole coach (and bus driver) of a co-ed sport. Anyone who has ever coached knows that the two hours a day of practice and the weekly (or more) competitions are not the only demands of a sport. There is paperwork, equipment hauling, stat-keeping and analyzing, and countless hours of strategizing, second-guessing, and re-strategizing. Even in XC, a sport where it’s pretty obvious who’s best and everybody gets the same amount of playing time (actually, the scrubs get more “playing time” than the studs!),  there is the most fun part of coaching – kid drama and momma drama. So I’ve gotten used to taking a back seat to the sport for a few months every year. How can I complain? I coached volleyball for four years and Ryan was a real trooper, making supper most nights, coming to all my games, analyzing players with me and listening to me whine and cry about the stress and drama. Now it’s my turn to return the favor – not that he does any much whining and crying.

Except, I do complain. Every year. Some worse than others. (Take, for example, the 2008 season, when we had a barely-one-year-old and a still-two-year-old and I stayed up late reading the Twilight series as an escape. At one point, I sobbed to Ryan, “I just wish you cherished me!” but that’s another story…) Or this year. Right now, our grass is up to HERE. There are probably 20 moldy Tupperware containers and pairs of socks (equally moldy) in the truck. I am greeted by fancy-free goats nearly every day, due to fence issues. I have taken on picking out Ryan’s clothes (actually kinda fun) and ironing them (actually not fun at all) and prepping the coffee maker each night to insure smoother mornings. I was watering the animals daily until we decided that arrangement was not good for our marriage (I’ve decided I’m not much of an animal person...) Supper has to be delayed until 6:30, which is not conducive to happy eighteen-month-olds. The great supper clean-up team effort has been thrown out the window. My man is usually asleep on the couch by 9:30 p.m. And when he’s awake, he’s a little more, shall we say, cantankerous, than normal. Nearly every Saturday is spent driving at least an hour, running around for four hours yelling at high school kids before I come home to yell at mine and try to catch up on all the grading, grocery shopping, and cleaning I don’t have time to do during the week. But it’s cool. Really.

There comes a time every season when we both wonder if it’s worth the stress it places on our family. But there’s always something that makes us agree that coaching is a calling for Ryan. He’s not only a good coach. He’s a mentor to those kids. Runners come back from college and tell him how much they learned from him. He gets mentioned in valedictorian speeches. One of his runners brought his girlfriend to visit us in the hospital after Calvin was born (they talked more about the meet that Ryan had missed than the baby I had just birthed, but whatevs). Parents comment on what a difference they see in their kid because of “Coach Layton.” He’s meant to do this, we decide.

This year’s realization came early. Saturday was the first meet the boys and I could make it to. We rocked our matching shirts and the bright red double-jogger stroller (Calvin only rode until we could safety-pin his too-big britches up, but I can’t bear to go back to a single stroller just yet…) I secretly enjoyed Ryan’s runners yelling, “Go, Mrs. Layton!” when we ran from spot to spot on the course. Then we hung out on a secluded part of the course and screamed our lungs out – even Max. We waved at Daddy as he ran around screaming his lungs out. Big kids played with the boys, calling them “Little Coach” and asking them if they were gonna be runners someday, too. Reed puffed up with pride and ran fast and loud everywhere he went. When the meet was over, they ran over to give Daddy a high five. Daddy obliged, then excused himself to comfort a crying runner. I watched him give her a pep talk, then an awkward half-pat on the shoulder, knowing he wanted her to know he cared without making her uncomfortable. She walked back looking much better. We followed the bus to McDonald’s and learned all the freshmen’s names. Reed and Calvin showed off their Happy Meal Transformers to high school kids, who acted impressed. Then we headed home, exhausted and sunburned, but also exhilarated. This isn’t just fun for Ryan. It’s fun for the whole fam! And I hope the athletes might see in us something that, sadly, many of them don’t see at home – a family that loves each other and makes sacrifices in order to serve God.

Ryan was home Saturday afternoon and most of the day Sunday. I took the boys to a birthday party and left him with some peace and quiet. I figured he could use the time to get caught up. When I came home, the lawn mowers hadn’t moved (in his defense, all four of them are broken, but that’s ANOTHER story…) and the truck was still littered with food and clothes. How had my husband spent his kid-free hours? Writing a personal note to each athlete.

I love that man!