God Knows What We Need

Sometimes it becomes crystal clear that God knows exactly what someone really needs to be comforted.

Last night I spent the evening in the ER with my baby girl.  She has pneumonia so we were getting paraded from her to the X-ray room, back to the treatment room.  I had this incredibly uneasy feeling all night in the ER because it was just 5 years ago tonight that I was admitted because our son had died and I was in labor and needed to deliver him.

Let me go back for those that don't know this part of my history.  We have 3 amazing children, and I am also the mommy to a baby in heaven.  It was our 3rd pregnancy, and though unplanned and unexpected, I was thrilled beyond compare when I discovered that I was pregnant.  It was definitely weird, as I had discovered my previous 2 pregnancies in late-October, and it was only Labor Day weekend.  The pregnancy was going along swimmingly.  We got to see our little baby wiggling, dancing and sucking his thumb at his 12 week ultrasound.  My dad was so enthralled with the images on the ultrasound, he was crowding out the ultrasound tech trying to get a better view of the screen.  I felt so blessed when I hit the 13 week mark and was so relieved that I would never feel the despair of a miscarriage.  Things were cruising right along, and the week after Thanksgiving, Barney and I took the kids to Disney World.  Though I was only 16 weeks along, it was glaringly obvious that I was pregnant in all of our pictures.  When you're only 5'2" tall, there's not much of anywhere for the baby to go, but out.  By the way, the overly sensitive sense of smell on a pregnant woman, at Disney at Christmas is torture.  That carousel you can see behind us is entirely edible.  It smelled of gingerbread deliciousness.  While we were at Disney Justin decided to taste-test the hand rails at the Magic Kingdom and found himself a good case of Hand, Foot and Mouth disease.  He was kind enough to share that virus with me.

Five years ago today, I woke up to work from home and found myself in a lot of pain.  Back pain to be specific.  I decided to work in my PJ's for the majority of the day and shower later for the sake of comfort.  I started to realize that the pain was coming and going at a very regular intervals, specifically every 8 minutes.  I became more and more uncomfortable, so about 6:30 I called my OB and let him know I was having contractions.  He told me I was too early for pre-term labor and it was likely a UTI and my uterus was irritated, thus contracting.  He told me to call back at 8:30 when the office opened and they would squeeze me in.  I had no idea that my life was about to fall apart.  I went in to the OB that morning around 10:15 or so, and he verified I had a UTI and just wanted to check on the baby.  He couldn't find the heartbeat and I jokingly said, "That's fine.  I was secretly hoping that the baby wouldn't cooperate so we could find out the sex of the baby for Barney's birthday tomorrow".  We went into the ultrasound room and my world shattered.  Still no heartbeat.  Internal ultrasound, still no heartbeat.  The doctor was flustered and sent me for an in-depth ultrasound with a high-risk doctor and in his haste, sent me to one that was closed for the day.  It was immediately evident when he did the ultrasound that our baby was gone.  He was so peaceful, no movement, no tell-tale flicker to indicate a heart beat.  I just laid there in shock, and cried.  I asked the doctor what was next and he said to go home and wait for my regular doctor to call.  I did.  Our pastor came over with some yummy cinnamon buns to pray with us, and while we were praying, my water broke.  A few minutes later the phone rang, and it was my OB.

Dr. Seidel told us what to expect, told us what our options were.  He cried on the phone with me, and spoke to Barney extensively.  Not long after that we headed to Duke Medical Center to have our angel baby.  I had had 2 previous c-sections and had been on blood thinners for the last 4-1/2 months.  All of these things meant that laboring could cause a ruptured uterus, and ultimately, my death, so we decided to err on the side of caution.  I fully intended to take advantage of any and all medications they would allow me to because the physical pain was NOTHING compared to the emotional pain.  How do you labor for 24 hours knowing that your baby is dead?  How do you maintain any level of sanity knowing that the baby you are in so much pain for is already gone?  How do you do any of this with and hint of dignity, knowing that you are about to deliver a dead baby on your husband's birthday?  Our precious Henry was born on Friday morning, December 14 at around 6:30.  We named him Henry James, after our paternal grandfathers.  He was perfect in every way save for 1, his missing heartbeat.  Henry weighed a little over 4 oz, and was 7-1/2 inches long.  I have never been so lost or felt so cheated in my life.  The doctors and nurses at Duke were unmatched in their care for me.  They were so peaceful, and accommodating in every way.    My parents and Barney's both came to the hospital and held our angel before they took him away.  Every year, on the 13th and 14th of December I am on the verge of a melt-down the entire day.  The slightest thing can set me off, from seeing a pregnant woman, to wishing Barney a happy birthday.  Last week I was completely unable to look at a friend's ultrasound pictures because it just reminded me all too much of what I was going through this time 5 years ago.  We have gone on to have Ella Sue.  She will never replace Henry, EVER, but it does make everything a little easier to cope with.

Being home with her today and tomorrow, due to her asthma, getting to snuggle with her, hug her, and spend time with her and Ada today has been exactly what my soul needed.  I don't feel as edgy today as I usually do on December 13th.  Tomorrow, she and I are going to make daddy some birthday cake/cupcakes, and spend the day together.  I know it's probably unfair, but I might take this day off from now on, just to spend it with my girl and not have to be anything more than her mom on this day.

I don't know if I'll make it to work out tomorrow, it'll depend on how she's feeling and if my parents feel comfortable watching her and all of her germs.  I would love to workout, but being her mommy is the best thing I can be tomorrow.

I know this is totally off the normal topic of my blog, but sometimes, for me, writing helps me to function and get things off my chest.  We'll be back to our regular programming with my next post, but I really needed to put this all down today.

Until next time.....

Henry's Mommy

Perspective

24 hours after I left the box crying and not finishing my workout, I have a little perspective.  Did my workout suck?  YES.  Was/am I disappointed that I was unable to finish?  YES, but what really matters?

What really matters is that day in and day out I am challenging myself and my body to do things that had you told me a year ago I would be doing them, I would have laughed hysterically in your face.  I have the physical ability to push my body to do these things.  I have not been severely injured or disabled.  I have the opportunity to make a change in my life that some folks never will.  So why in the hell am I boo-hooing over ONLY completing 4-1/2 rounds when there are almost definitely men and women who wish they had the physical ability to even attempt 1 round?  Last night's post left me feeling better because I had vented, but also feeling incredibly selfish, and I don't like feeling this way.  There are people in this country and others that would give just about anything to have the opportunity to do what I did yesterday, and if they left in tears, it would likely be from gratitude.

I think it's time I take a look at what I'm thinking and feeling and remember what is important in life.  Thanks to everyone who reached out to me last night and this morning to check on me.  I really appreciate it.

Krista

ugh! Can I get a do-over?

Well, Tonight's WOD was the horrible ending the capped off my horrible day.  The first even of the day will not be mentioned here--next I got an email from HR in response to my questions about the status of the job I interviewed for and was told that another person had been recommended.  I got fussed at and yelled at by students, I had people sent to me that didn't have appointments and I didn't know were coming.  I had to do mommy duty in the parking lot because my 6 year old was refusing to go to school, screaming at my mom and refusing to let her brush her hair before school.  It was a long and very rough day...I just knew that going to workout was going to make it all better, because working hard and sweating always makes me feel better, and I feel like I accomplished something.  I was chatting with a friend of mine this afternoon, and told her that days like today make me want to quit.  I'm not going to quit, I'm NEVER going to quit, but days like this would normally be what did me in and made me walk away in the past.

I was so excited when I got to CrossFit, but that was VERY short-lived.  During the warm-up we needed to run 100 meters and I felt like I was running with anvils at the ends of my legs.

WOD#1--6 rounds for time, 25 minute max
3 squat cleans ( I had 65#)
20 ab mat sit-ups
6 inverted burpees (I had to do get-up to bronco kicks)
10 box jumps

I got through 4 complete rounds, and made it to the inverted burpees in the 5th round.  I was absolutely devastated.  I left the box in tears and just went and sat in the parking lot and cried.  I was embarrassed and frustrated.  I absolutely HATE not finishing.  I HATE DNF'ing.  I knew my lungs weren't on board for a lot of running tonight because I'm still coughing and congested, but I didn't expect to not be able to finish.

There was to be a second WOD which included sprints.  There was NO way I could sprint tonight, so after I failed at the first workout, I grabbed my stuff and headed to the car.  I just sat there and cried.  Our coach, Tyler, stopped me on the way out and told me that my attendance meant I was on the right path.  He told me to think back to what I was capable of when I started in late July, the answer is, I wasn't capable of much.  Today was a bad day, but as bac as it was, I am NEVER going to quit, Tyler & Andrea.  I will continue to show up and do the best I can.  I will get through this speed bump.  See you again on Wednesday!

Until next time....

Krista

WOOOOHOOOOOO--PR!

Okay..time to calm down a bit, before I get too far ahead of myself.  I haven't worked out since the day before Thanksgiving (2 weeks?!?!?!) when I did the double workout.  The Monday after Thanksgiving I went down for the count with the stomach bug that my kids were kind enough to share with me, then parenting duties, and play practices and life just got completely in the way.  Then, this Monday the upper respiratory crap started.  Upper respiratory infection?  Sinus infection?  Who knows?  The fact is, 2 weeks is too damn long to go without working out.  The other thing that I have figured out is that missing even 1 workout makes it easier to miss another, and it's a slippery slope from there.  This is how people fall off the wagon.  This is how people lose the fire to change their lives.  Things happen, life happens, and contrary to popular belief, habits die a quick and quiet death.  I'm not going to lie, changing clothes to get ready for my workout I felt like I was suiting up for battle, a battle of wills, per se.  The reality is, my brain wants me to quit.  My brain seems to like the fat lazy heifer I have become over the years.  My brain has gotten rather comfortable in the cushy fat floored apartment she is resting in.  I've spent about the last 18 years teaching my brain that my body was meant to be slow, out of shape, fat and unhealthy and my brain has obliged and encouraged me to excel at this particularly unpleasant existence I've adopted.

Well, I am now trying to convince my brain that I can and should change my reality.  That I can and should excel at working out, but my brain isn't exactly on board yet, and my self-esteem is light-years away from believing this line I'm trying to feed it.  My self-esteem and self worth have always been far too willing to accept the negativity I have thrown their way and cheered on my negative body image and mind-set for some reason, so believing in myself is as foreign a language to my brain and my body as speaking Latin would be.

So tonight was a bit scary and intimidating to be back in the box, but if I'm being completely honest, I felt better in my WOD than I have in quite some time.  I felt refreshed and strong, even though I haven't been there in 2 weeks.

So our warm up was pretty straight forward, 10 medicine ball slams (10# ball), 5 push-ups, 5 pull-ups, bear crawl and 10 air squats.  I'm still not comfortable with bear crawls, so I left those out since it was only the warm up.

After our warm up we were working on our strength skill.  I was really excited to see that the skill for today was deadlifts.  I LOVE deadlifts.  I think this is partially because when I first started, they hurt me so bad.  I couldn't do deadlifts when I started with a 15# bar because of the back pain.  Now that I have been doing this for 4 months my core strength is much better, and I am a lot stronger.  The last time we did deadlifts for our 1 rep max, I started with the learner bar (25#) and only 1 10# plate on each side, so I had 45# on the bar total.  Andrea immediately told me that it was too easy and I needed to add weight.  I ended up maxing out the bar, and then moving to the larger bar and ran out of time, maxing out at 195#.  I was so mad at myself because I really wanted to break 200#.  So---Fast forward to tonight.  I saw deadlifts on the board and was ecstatic, but that was short-lived.  Being someone with very little self confidence, I get intimidated very easily.  When Andrea was pairing us up and putting us into groups with people who could lift about the same amounts, she told me I was too strong to lift with the group of girls, and I needed to lift with a pair of guys, Michael and another guy who I had never met before.  I can't remember his name to save myself right now.  Intimidated doesn't even cover this feeling.  Me?  Lift with 2 guys?  NO!!!  I'm not ready for that!!!  I'm not strong enough for that!!!!  I can't do it!!!!  I was scared half out of my mind which lasted just a few seconds, till they discussed starting out with 135# on the bar for the first round of 5 lifts.  SHIT!  Seriously?  135#?  I know my goal was 200, but I was planning to start a bit lower and build up to it, not just jump right to triple digits.  So, scared doesn't exactly cover how completely terrified I was.  I wanted to run screaming from the box and say, NO!!!  I CAN'T LIFT WITH BOYS!  WHAT ARE YOU?  CRAZY?!?!  So, I stepped up to the bar, asked permission to use a double-over grip since the mixed grip is so freaking uncomfortable for me, and Andrea said it was fine.  I did my 5 lifts at 135#.  Okay, so maybe I can do this after all.  Wait?  What?  You want to go ahead and jump to 185# already?  What are you smoking?  Okay...so, address the bar and do it!  And I did.....next up 205#.  Alright then, this is where the rubber meets the road, and can you really lift more than 200#?  I put my hands on the bar, and I was physically shaking. My inner self was laughing hysterically, rolling on the floor, crying type of laughing.  Only one way I know of to shut-up my inner skeptic, lift the damn bar.  Andrea said, "Get out of your head and stand up".  So, I did....and it worked!  I literally jumped up and down cheering myself on!  I just lifted 205 pounds, Me, I did it.  Next thing I know, there's 225# on the bar...I took one look at it and said, "I'm out".  The guys I was lifting with both did it, and made it look pretty easy.  They walked away to get more weights, and I stepped up to the bar.  Can I do this?  Can I lift 225?  Is that possible?  While no one was looking, I leaned over, grabbed the bar, and started to lift it.  It wasn't quick and easy like the earlier lifts, it is truly my 1-rep max right now, but I'll be damned if I didn't lift 225#.  Then I decided to try it again, this time with mixed grip, and now I know why they say to use that grip for heavy weights.  I did it.  I lifted 225#, not once, but twice.  I couldn't be more proud of myself.  Why am I so afraid of myself?  Why am I afraid of my own strength?  Why do I try to convince myself that I am incapable when I am clearly capable?  Next goal?  Lose enough weight and get stronger so my next PR is my body weight....right now that would be an additional 30 pounds, so if I lose some, and gain some strength, that should be possible.  Next up, 250!

Now, WOD #1, 2 minute AMRAP, which could easily qualify as the cardio portion of our workout, or another warm up, was 15 quick box jumps (jump up and down, but I have to step down still) and 5 kettle bell swings (I used a 26.5# kettle bell).  I only got through 1 round thanks to the respiratory crap I have going on, my asthma kicked in and I started hacking and wheezing.  WOW!  Who knew that 2 minutes could be so tough?

WOD#2--4 rounds
10 burpees (hands on the 12" box)
10 medicine ball sit-ups
10 walking lunges
10 toes-to-bar
10 half-jacks

After 1 round, I looked at the clock, and I was at 2:50, after round 2, I realized I had forgotten my half jacks  in round 1, so I did 20 half jacks in the second round.  After 2 rounds, I was right around 6-1/2 minutes.  I had hoped going in to do the WOD in 13 minutes or less.  I know that my rounds get slower as I go, so I wasn't really sure that was going to happen.  I kept trying to push through, but I was definitely struggling.  I continued to push, and work, and eventually, I was in my last round of walking lunges.  I was struggling and I  stopped for a second.  I heard Tyler say, "Push Krista, you can rest when you're done!"  Well, there's a different perspective I hadn't considered previously...Okay, Tyler, push it is.  I ended up finishing the WOD in 13:05.  Even though I didn't finish in my goal time, I did very well.  I used to count this as a failure, but now, it's a success.  The reality is, I didn't quit, and I WON'T quit!  I'm going to beat this body fat, I'm going to come out on top, and hold my head high.  I will overcome these hurdles in my way, and do it with my teeth gritted, cursing, sweating and swearing if I have to.  So, as far as my workouts go, I'm still good, and I'm going to keep bustin' ass.  I've got what it takes to be successful, and I have to do it.

Thank you again, Andrea, for pushing me what way I need to be pushed.  Gentlemen, thank you for letting me lift with you.  I was incredibly intimidated to do so, thanks for cheering me on!

Till next time--

Krista

I did a double...

Yesterday, on the day before thanksgiving, I did a double workout.  It was the first time I have ever done that, and I wasn't all that sure it was going to happen.  I headed out to the box at 8:45 with my buddy, Faith, so she could kind of get an idea of what CrossFit is all about.  I have been telling her about it since I started, but she wanted to see what it was.

I explained how CrossFit works, about the whiteboards with the WOD written on it, and our times/scores on them.  Then it was time to get started.

WOD:

200 meter run
5 Hand Stand Push Ups (I can't do these yet, so I put my knees on a box, hands on a floor)
10 pull-ups (I still have to use the strongest bands/red)
15 crucifix push ups (the girlie kind, on my knees)
20 Kettlebell swings (26# for me)

Each round was 52 points, I made it through 3 complete rounds, for a total of 156 points.

Afterwards I went home for some laundry and housework to get ready for our trip to barney's hometown for the weekend.  I finally got up the nerve to re-arrange our bedroom, so my 2nd workout involved the moving of our queen-sized bed, a triple dresser with a mirror, a chest of drawers, a double-dresser, 2 night stands and a cedar chest.  Mid-afternoon, I started to notice a discoloration on my thighs and was trying to figure out how I had bruises in straight-lines across my thighs, just above my knees....It appears the modified hand-stand push-ups on the box have left me with some pretty impressive battle-wounds.  See pictures:

Right Leg

Left Leg

Finally, I had decided to do a double workout, and promised my buddy Jeff Krenrich I would do the double, and I'd meet him at the box at 6:30 for a second workout. I also decided to I could almost definitely beat my time from the morning, and I needed to see if I was right. So...it was off to WOD #2 of the day and what amounted to a 3rd workout after the re-arranging of the bedroom furniture.

This time I decided to do 100 meter runs instead of 2, because of the swelling in my ankle and the exhaustion after the furniture changes. This actually worked to my benefit I think, since running isn't my strong-suit. I was able to bet through the entire WOD 3x again, and complete the 4th run, HSPU, Pull-ups and 6 of my crucifix push-ups. My score for my second WOD was 175. It felt really good to get a second workout in, especially since I was going to be away from the box the rest of the weekend. I was right, I could beat my original time.  I knew I had it in me.

Unlike in previous years, I didn't stuff myself to the point of nausea with all of the Thanksgiving goodies. I didn't even eat a piece of pie. I did eat some mashed potatoes, a bit of Sweet Potato Casserole, 2 yeast rolls and a little bit of Turkey.

Tomorrow I'm going to swim some laps in the hotel pool, and Saturday evening when we get home, I'm going to be going for a run, on Sunday too.  I've got to get some serious miles in to get ready for this race

in February at Disney.  I can't get swept again, and I won't allow me to sabotage myself again, as I have always done in the past.  I deserve better.  I deserve to succeed.  I deserve to accomplish what I have set out to do.  

Grace?!?! Um, I need some

Wowie, wow!!

I returned to CrossFit APX tonight, and as a thanks for my absence, I was welcomed back with an ass-kicking pair of WODs that left me in the parking lot puking after the first, and a 3rd time heaving in the midst of the second workout.  Now, anyone who knows me will tell you that I don't believe in vomiting.  I was pregnant 4 times, and could count on 1 hand the number of times I vomited.  I didn't eat chicken for 7-1/2 months while pregnant with Ada because that was what caused me to be sick with her.  With Justin and Henry, it was brushing my teeth, which I did research and found Cinnamon toothpaste to be the cure.  With Ella, it was actually bronchitis, and coughing till my body revolted.  I DO NOT throw up.  It is against everything I believe in.  I once joked with a therapist that diagnosed me as anorexic/bulimic that I couldn't even bulimic and do it right because I binged, but forgot to throw it back up.  That diagnosis has now been amended to be Binge Eating Disorder.  Sometimes I don't eat at all, other times, I can eat 2,000 calories in 1 sitting.  Depends on where I am emotionally.

At any rate...Today's WODs kicked my BOO-TAY!

WOD #1, "Grace"

30 Ground to Overhead, and we were to use a Clean & Split Jerk to accomplish this.  RX for ladies was 95#.  I went with 65, and man-oh-man, was I feeling it.  After the first 10 in 1:18, I was hoping I could finish in under 5 minutes.  It took me 5:18.  One of the members there for the 6:30 workout said he was changing his shoes and all he heard was "shit, F&*%, and barbells hitting the floor".  Not all that lady-like, I know....and all the while I was wearing my Minnie Mouse t-shirt that says, "I look this cute every day."  Um, cute isn't exactly the terminology to describe me during "Grace", and neither is "Grace".

I grabbed a drink of water, and my gag reflex was in full on hyper-sensitivity, because the water hit my throat and it and my lunch came right back up, not once, but twice.  Then it was time to get back in the box and get ready for WOD #2.  I missed the explanation, but we were counted off in 2's because we had so many people and we wouldn't have enough space to do the bar work all at the same time.

WOD #2: (I started at the end of the WOD, so what I'm typing is what I did, while others started somewhere else in the workout.

30 burpees (I modified mine after the first 8 to use the box, because my hip flexor was really smarting and my stomach was not on board for full-on burpees)
20 walking lunges with a 25# plate overhead
30 T2B (I still can't do these, but did curls that were a lot more like Knees-to-Elbows)
30 box jumps (12" box)
30 Push Press (RX for ladies was 45, I did 65 still)  with a quick run to the parking lot after the 20th
15 jumping pull-ups

I finished in 18:09.  Man, it feels good to have completed it, but boy do I HATE to be sick.  I finished over an hour and a half ago, but I'm afraid to eat because I'm afraid it won't stay down.  Not cool!!  I've got my eye on some yogurt, just need to brave it.

What an awesome welcome back WOD.  That just teaches me that staying away means you'll always get your butt kicked when you come back.

Soapbox

Well, you have all probably noticed that I haven't posted about my workouts this week and the very simple reason for that is that I haven't worked out.  I have been fighting migraines all week, and just feeling unmotivated to do anything other than pull the covers up over my head pretending that the world doesn't exist.  Let me explain why.

First, I had such a horribly migraine this weekend, one so bad that I felt like my eyeballs were pulsating in their sockets and I could SEE my heartbeat.  It took me a good couple of days, till late Wednesday afternoon to finally completely get rid of the pain.

Then there have been a lot of my friends going through extremely difficult times.  I needed to step back and re-evaluate where I was myself and what my motivations for things are. I have been privy to the knowledge that a group of people who claim to be friends and Christians are apparently doing all they possibly can to demolish the business and reputation of someone who has done more for me to help me through this journey than I could ever have asked.  The fact is, the viciousness with which they are attacking this person is so offensive and frightening I can't even comprehend it.  It is a personal vendetta taken to the extreme limits of my comprehension.  I will NEVER understand how any self-respecting person could do the things that are being done in this situation.  People who are this hateful, mean and spiteful must really hate themselves to treat someone as genuine and wonderful the way that they are.

Fast forward a few days and I find out that the husband of an online friend in a group of women who have been together for 5 years since we all went through the loss of our babies that were due in May of 2008 has cancer.  This group of women have thrown baby showers for subsequent pregnancies, supported each other through addiction, domestic violence, secondary infertility, infidelity, divorce, dating, children with special needs and re-marriages.  This week we found out that the husband of one of our beloved campers has stage 4 bowel cancer and surgery is not an option.  Tori and Rob have 2 children the ages of my 2 girls, 6 and 4.  Rob has 2 older children from his previous marriage.  I cannot even begin to comprehend how they must be feeling right now, and all I can think is that I don't know how I would be able to function if I were in their shoes.  They are handling this diagnosis with more strength and grace than I can comprehend, and all I can think is how badly I wish I could be there, though I don't know that I would even be able to say ANYTHING or do ANYTHING worth saying or doing, other than offer support.

It hit me as I was wallowing in all of this drama and sadness, that if I don't get off my ass and make a serious change to my lifestyle, it could be my family that is in Tori and her boys' shoes.  It could be my family trying to explain to my kids why mommy had a stroke, or a heart attack, or one of the various other issues that comes along with morbid obesity.  So its time to get it in gear.  It is okay to grieve for my friends and to wish I could help them with everything in my power.  But the biggest thing I can do in honor, respect and tribute of them and their struggles is to make sure that my family doesn't have to walk in the same shoes they are walking in right now.

So, let me take this opportunity to tell Andrea, how much I appreciate your support, knowledge and understanding.  Your journey from bulemia to health and fitness is nothing short of amazing and miraculous.  Being able to talk to someone who has fought the fight that I'm in round 1 of right now makes it easier to put the puzzle together and almost make sense of it all.  You are an inspiration, and a consummate professional.   You treat everyone you encounter with the dignity and respect you would want in return, and it has served you well in your life and career.  You rock socks, I don't care what anyone else thinks, says, feels or posts.

Tori and Rob, I can't begin to comprehend what lies ahead of you and how you are feeling.  Please know that you and your families are in my prayers, and will remain there at all times.  If anyone is ornery enough to kick cancer's ass, it is most definitely, Mr. Contraction.  We love you both.

Princess Krista