If you feel like a reminder about why women are so lucky to be women (or for men to remember why they love the women in their lives) or if you just need a good cry, please watch this 5 minute video on an essay written by Kelly Corrigan:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u_4qwVLqt9Q
I swear they aren't paying me.
Oh, and by the way... I can do a headstand now. Without the wall.
And I had whoppie pie ice cream for the first time today. Oh, and I am wearing a skirt that I have saved in the bottom of my summer clothes tote very optimistically for fourteen years...
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
tidbits
- Yea, we had our first picnic today! Hello it is 85 degrees out! (The picnic went well until Maya crawled across the food rivaling a whole pack of the most intrusive ants you've ever seen.)
-Ella officially disdains sweat. When I come back from a run, she wrinkles up her nose and says, "Momma when are you going to shower?" Now it is to the point where she won't let me near her and won't even let me fix her lunch until I've bathed.
-Ella was frustrated and said to Brady, "Oh, I give up!" He trailed after her, deploring, "Oh, Ella, please don't give up!"
- Maya was crying after I put her to bed the other night and when I went up to check on her, she had one arm pulled inside her pjs and was flapping the other one around wildly. It won't be long before we have to put them on backwards because she takes them off.
- Sandi took the girls to Petco last week and let Maya walk Mochy around on the leash so that when she wanted Maya to come to her, she just called Mochy and Maya was forced to follow. When they went to checkout, Ella of course, stood contentedly by Sandi in line while Maya took off, running, around a corner, giggling and throwing items off the shelf in her wake. Contrast anyone?
-Ella's hamster, Snowball, passed away. (unfortunately unwitnessed so we aren't exactly sure how long before anyone realized he had made his transition...) Ella asked me if he was a white angel. Um, sure...
-Ella was perseverating on something that had long since been resolved and I told her that it was enough. She sighs in exasperation, "I just can't stop talking about it!"
- If you haven't seen the movie Seven Pounds, please go out and rent it right now. And don't read the blurb on the back. It is way better if you don't know what is going on.
Okay, I am going to make some sort of open ended commitment to learn about the camera and downloading photos because blogs are just better with photos. So, if I fail, someone please call me on it.
-Ella officially disdains sweat. When I come back from a run, she wrinkles up her nose and says, "Momma when are you going to shower?" Now it is to the point where she won't let me near her and won't even let me fix her lunch until I've bathed.
-Ella was frustrated and said to Brady, "Oh, I give up!" He trailed after her, deploring, "Oh, Ella, please don't give up!"
- Maya was crying after I put her to bed the other night and when I went up to check on her, she had one arm pulled inside her pjs and was flapping the other one around wildly. It won't be long before we have to put them on backwards because she takes them off.
- Sandi took the girls to Petco last week and let Maya walk Mochy around on the leash so that when she wanted Maya to come to her, she just called Mochy and Maya was forced to follow. When they went to checkout, Ella of course, stood contentedly by Sandi in line while Maya took off, running, around a corner, giggling and throwing items off the shelf in her wake. Contrast anyone?
-Ella's hamster, Snowball, passed away. (unfortunately unwitnessed so we aren't exactly sure how long before anyone realized he had made his transition...) Ella asked me if he was a white angel. Um, sure...
-Ella was perseverating on something that had long since been resolved and I told her that it was enough. She sighs in exasperation, "I just can't stop talking about it!"
- If you haven't seen the movie Seven Pounds, please go out and rent it right now. And don't read the blurb on the back. It is way better if you don't know what is going on.
Okay, I am going to make some sort of open ended commitment to learn about the camera and downloading photos because blogs are just better with photos. So, if I fail, someone please call me on it.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Yard work, fashion and big deals
If anyone has been missing any pine cones, I can bet you money they snuck over to our front yard in the middle of the night. This was the winter the pine cone took control and made a valiant attempt to overthrow our house. Angela said she didn't think she had ever seen so many pine cones in one place before. My mother was scheming up ways for us to sell them for money (hmmm...) or have a competition for kids that involved a prize for the child laborer who gathered the most.
Turns out the old fashioned rake did the trick and they are mostly gone now. It was a wistful moment to see the grass again.
We've been outside every available minute lately, working in the yard, playing with sidewalk chalk and bubbles and Ella actually riding her bike around the block. My heart beat still. We have to do some serious conniving to get her out a skirt and into some jeans and mud boots but, wow, when she does it, she gets filthy. She came home from school with actual grass stains on her pants the other day. Angela said, "Wow, Mommy would be proud."
Emerson celebrated his 3rd birthday today in style this morning. Ella began getting ready, picking out her pink, fluffy, tulle fairy dress last night. It took more convincing that she might need something more, well practical, for playing outside. She decided on a denim skirt - "a rugged skirt" as she said - an oxymoron I would have thought until watching her in motion.
When she was getting said outfit on this morning, Maya was trying to rip the crown (yes, a crown) off her head and pulling on her tights when Ella got up in a huff, exclaiming, as though she was fourteen instead of four, "I'm going to get ready in MY room!" And she did.
It defies all logic, but I ran 8.5 miles this morning. I truly can't tell you how that is possible. I came home to a somewhat mediocre celebration of my accomplishment. Ella told me, with a wrinkled nose, "Momma, you're sweat smells stinky."
Turns out the old fashioned rake did the trick and they are mostly gone now. It was a wistful moment to see the grass again.
We've been outside every available minute lately, working in the yard, playing with sidewalk chalk and bubbles and Ella actually riding her bike around the block. My heart beat still. We have to do some serious conniving to get her out a skirt and into some jeans and mud boots but, wow, when she does it, she gets filthy. She came home from school with actual grass stains on her pants the other day. Angela said, "Wow, Mommy would be proud."
Emerson celebrated his 3rd birthday today in style this morning. Ella began getting ready, picking out her pink, fluffy, tulle fairy dress last night. It took more convincing that she might need something more, well practical, for playing outside. She decided on a denim skirt - "a rugged skirt" as she said - an oxymoron I would have thought until watching her in motion.
When she was getting said outfit on this morning, Maya was trying to rip the crown (yes, a crown) off her head and pulling on her tights when Ella got up in a huff, exclaiming, as though she was fourteen instead of four, "I'm going to get ready in MY room!" And she did.
It defies all logic, but I ran 8.5 miles this morning. I truly can't tell you how that is possible. I came home to a somewhat mediocre celebration of my accomplishment. Ella told me, with a wrinkled nose, "Momma, you're sweat smells stinky."
Thursday, April 16, 2009
bumper sticker
I saw this on a bumper sticker yesterday and it was just so...fitting:
"I'm not suffering from insanity. I'm enjoying every minute of it."
"I'm not suffering from insanity. I'm enjoying every minute of it."
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
give it a rest Murphy...
Murphy's law... something about if anything can go wrong it will. Well, that seems to sum up my last few days in a nice neat package with a bow.
I discovered last night that I had overdrawn our business checking account at our new bank by erroneously recording a deposit for double the amount. I also found out, when I went to set up the new checkbook with the lovely, new, made-from-recycled-paper checks that I had put the business checking number on the personal checks. Went back and forth all day with the bank and found the deposit/overdrawn error to be mine (remember in Monopoly bank error in your favor? never happens to me) and had to bite the money for the fees, the new checks and the lost deposit amount that was never deposited and the two weeks it will take to get new, properly encoded, checks,. This set my day off right...
The girls and I waited for 45 minutes with a sick, clingy, lethargic, feverish and by the end crying, Maya at the doctor's office- a never-before-seen-occurrence at Husson Pediatrics. Turns out the third time is a charm- she has a sinus infection and fluid on her ear drums. Sounds painful? She thinks so too.
HAD to go to the store because we ran out of toilet paper YESTERDAY and were using tissues. Also had to get Ibuprofen and $100 worth of other essential items (despite having spent $120 at Hannaford a mere 4 days ago) and then make ANOTHER stop (at Hannaford again) to get non-chlorinated diapers because Maya's bum is fire engine red again. Was told antibiotic might make it worse. Great.
Next stop the pharmacy where we wait an eternity for the woman ahead of us to resolve her prescription issues. Now a very crappy feeling, but up until now, very tolerant Maya, begins to unwind. The crying starts. It is 4 p.m. I have fed the kids lunch and snacks in the car, dragged them all over town, let them play in the van in the grocery store parking lot so I could confer with the bank, and at least felt I had balanced the scales by taking them to the park before the whole escapade began at 11:30 after preschool pick-up. Ella left the house at 8:30 this morning and didn't come home until 4.
In addition to all of this, I got a ticket- an actual written TICKET- on Easter Sunday at the Togus VA hospital for walking my dog illegally (and ignorantly as it turns out), Ella asked me tonight if I was going to apologize to her in the morning for being grumpy (when I told her, quite sternly, that I had had enough of her talking back to me AND had held it together REALLY well despite the stress of the afternoon), Maya had a 102.4 fever when we got home, and I never got a much needed re-caffination this afternoon.
But all it takes is just a drop of perspective to turn it all around. And here are several:
It was 55 degrees out today!! After all our craziness the kids and I came home and played for the first time on the recently snow-uncovered playset in the backyard.
An elderly woman with orange lipstick was admiring our girls last week at the pharmacy and said to me, "Oh, they grow so fast. My babies are 55 and 61 now." And then, wistfully, "I swear I had more fun than they did."
But, most poignantly...I met a woman of at least 50 years today while we waited at the doctor's. She was rocking a sleeping boy in a stroller and told me she hadn't had much sleep since she had been at the ER until 3 a.m. and gathered I hadn't either given the sick state of my child. (I truly appreciate when people can see this and acknowledge this.) She then told me the story of 19 month-old Joshua who was born into this world perfect and was so severely abused by his parents that he now has extensive brain damage. His spine was snapped so he had the motor control of a 6 week old and always will. He has a feeding tube, will never walk or talk and will likely only live to be 4 or 5. She is in the process of adopting him. She had 3 kids of her own, an adopted girl who is an adult now, another special needs child she adopted who died last year and now this little angel of a boy who, when he woke and began to cry, she scooped his little body up and placed him on her chest and rocked and soothed him back to sleep. She told me when she got him he cried when he was touched because it was so unfamiliar to him. She spoke of him with such tenderness and love, I was in tears. Tears for her beautiful heart, for a world where parents could do that to their child, for the shame I felt at begrudging so many hours of much needed sleep to my sick and hurting, but otherwise perfect, little girl.
I discovered last night that I had overdrawn our business checking account at our new bank by erroneously recording a deposit for double the amount. I also found out, when I went to set up the new checkbook with the lovely, new, made-from-recycled-paper checks that I had put the business checking number on the personal checks. Went back and forth all day with the bank and found the deposit/overdrawn error to be mine (remember in Monopoly bank error in your favor? never happens to me) and had to bite the money for the fees, the new checks and the lost deposit amount that was never deposited and the two weeks it will take to get new, properly encoded, checks,. This set my day off right...
The girls and I waited for 45 minutes with a sick, clingy, lethargic, feverish and by the end crying, Maya at the doctor's office- a never-before-seen-occurrence at Husson Pediatrics. Turns out the third time is a charm- she has a sinus infection and fluid on her ear drums. Sounds painful? She thinks so too.
HAD to go to the store because we ran out of toilet paper YESTERDAY and were using tissues. Also had to get Ibuprofen and $100 worth of other essential items (despite having spent $120 at Hannaford a mere 4 days ago) and then make ANOTHER stop (at Hannaford again) to get non-chlorinated diapers because Maya's bum is fire engine red again. Was told antibiotic might make it worse. Great.
Next stop the pharmacy where we wait an eternity for the woman ahead of us to resolve her prescription issues. Now a very crappy feeling, but up until now, very tolerant Maya, begins to unwind. The crying starts. It is 4 p.m. I have fed the kids lunch and snacks in the car, dragged them all over town, let them play in the van in the grocery store parking lot so I could confer with the bank, and at least felt I had balanced the scales by taking them to the park before the whole escapade began at 11:30 after preschool pick-up. Ella left the house at 8:30 this morning and didn't come home until 4.
In addition to all of this, I got a ticket- an actual written TICKET- on Easter Sunday at the Togus VA hospital for walking my dog illegally (and ignorantly as it turns out), Ella asked me tonight if I was going to apologize to her in the morning for being grumpy (when I told her, quite sternly, that I had had enough of her talking back to me AND had held it together REALLY well despite the stress of the afternoon), Maya had a 102.4 fever when we got home, and I never got a much needed re-caffination this afternoon.
But all it takes is just a drop of perspective to turn it all around. And here are several:
It was 55 degrees out today!! After all our craziness the kids and I came home and played for the first time on the recently snow-uncovered playset in the backyard.
An elderly woman with orange lipstick was admiring our girls last week at the pharmacy and said to me, "Oh, they grow so fast. My babies are 55 and 61 now." And then, wistfully, "I swear I had more fun than they did."
But, most poignantly...I met a woman of at least 50 years today while we waited at the doctor's. She was rocking a sleeping boy in a stroller and told me she hadn't had much sleep since she had been at the ER until 3 a.m. and gathered I hadn't either given the sick state of my child. (I truly appreciate when people can see this and acknowledge this.) She then told me the story of 19 month-old Joshua who was born into this world perfect and was so severely abused by his parents that he now has extensive brain damage. His spine was snapped so he had the motor control of a 6 week old and always will. He has a feeding tube, will never walk or talk and will likely only live to be 4 or 5. She is in the process of adopting him. She had 3 kids of her own, an adopted girl who is an adult now, another special needs child she adopted who died last year and now this little angel of a boy who, when he woke and began to cry, she scooped his little body up and placed him on her chest and rocked and soothed him back to sleep. She told me when she got him he cried when he was touched because it was so unfamiliar to him. She spoke of him with such tenderness and love, I was in tears. Tears for her beautiful heart, for a world where parents could do that to their child, for the shame I felt at begrudging so many hours of much needed sleep to my sick and hurting, but otherwise perfect, little girl.
Not even coffee can help this...
Some of you may know that I have never been a coffee drinker. It is a bit of an ongoing opportunity for others to poke fun at me. Charissa once said to me, "I don't understand. How is it again that you don't drink coffee? That is just weird." I got coffee for two years in a row in my Christmas stocking at the Carvers and made such a big deal out of my lack of interest in the java that this year I got my favorite tea stuffed into a Folger's bag.
Well, if necessity is the mother of invention then my need for wakefulness has indeed prompted a full out commitment on my part to acquire a taste for coffee. (For anyone out there who needs such a regimen I will tell you my secret: hot chocolate. Just put a few teaspoons in the bottom of the mug, pour your coffee and then add a generous amount of milk.) This has worked wonders and now I am able to decrease the taste crutches so I can actually taste the coffee and like it. Sandi made some seriously weak coffee yesterday morning and I caught myself saying, "This coffee is too weak, even for me..."
But now I realize, somewhat belatedly and certainly grudgingly, that coffee can only take me so far... This is a hard fall that others have surely already experienced but please sympathize with me briefly.
Maya hasn't really slept for the past week- from coughing all night, to teething pain, to other nebulous problems that cause nocturnal upset, to fever and delirium last night- I have been averaging about 5 hours of sleep a night. Luckily (?) for me I got Bronchitis at the end of last week and got one heavenly, albeit through a haze of sickness, twelve hour uninterupted nights sleep. That is probably augmenting the coffee to keep me going. My eyes look like they are in danger of falling into the deep dark caverns below the sockets and my skin has that dull hue of the sleepless. But worst of all today, after such a crappy night, I feel as though my mind can't cope. Luckily it is a beautiful day and I get some much needed Vitamin D outside after I get Maya to the doctor for the THIRD time in a week to find out what is freaking wrong with her...
Well, if necessity is the mother of invention then my need for wakefulness has indeed prompted a full out commitment on my part to acquire a taste for coffee. (For anyone out there who needs such a regimen I will tell you my secret: hot chocolate. Just put a few teaspoons in the bottom of the mug, pour your coffee and then add a generous amount of milk.) This has worked wonders and now I am able to decrease the taste crutches so I can actually taste the coffee and like it. Sandi made some seriously weak coffee yesterday morning and I caught myself saying, "This coffee is too weak, even for me..."
But now I realize, somewhat belatedly and certainly grudgingly, that coffee can only take me so far... This is a hard fall that others have surely already experienced but please sympathize with me briefly.
Maya hasn't really slept for the past week- from coughing all night, to teething pain, to other nebulous problems that cause nocturnal upset, to fever and delirium last night- I have been averaging about 5 hours of sleep a night. Luckily (?) for me I got Bronchitis at the end of last week and got one heavenly, albeit through a haze of sickness, twelve hour uninterupted nights sleep. That is probably augmenting the coffee to keep me going. My eyes look like they are in danger of falling into the deep dark caverns below the sockets and my skin has that dull hue of the sleepless. But worst of all today, after such a crappy night, I feel as though my mind can't cope. Luckily it is a beautiful day and I get some much needed Vitamin D outside after I get Maya to the doctor for the THIRD time in a week to find out what is freaking wrong with her...
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Want to smile?
I won't pass up anything that will make me smile these days. Between my own state of affairs and this dull, gray state of weather badly in need of a Little Ms. Sunshine, I will get a laugh where I can. My friend Elaine sent this to me and I managed to finally take the 4 minutes to watch it.
It was worth a smile and several laughs out loud.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0UE3CNu_rtY
C'mon. Just do it. You need to use those mouth muscles for smiling so that you don't forget how...
It was worth a smile and several laughs out loud.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0UE3CNu_rtY
C'mon. Just do it. You need to use those mouth muscles for smiling so that you don't forget how...
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Dinner fun
Hey, whatever works as a vehicle to consume the sweet potato...
Ella's First Night Out
Ella and I went out on a date last night. Just the two of us. I took her to the Hampden Academy Showchoir performance which allowed her to dress up and model for someone other than Maya, AND stay up late. All afternoon she was excited, telling Sandi she had to "get ready for the concert." She wore the new dress Gramma brought her from Florida, had a pink sequined purse (filled to overflowing with various yummy smelling lip glosses), black patent leather shoes and a lovely pink coat.
Waiting patiently for Momma to come home from work
Very Proud of Her Dress. I was utterly afraid I was not worthy to attend with her, in my jeans and long sleeve shirt...
Posing Perfectly for the camera....
She blabbed on in manic chatter the entire way there and then sat completely stone-faced through the concert, uttering not a word to the friends we sat with, looking tired and forlorn. Any bystander would wonder what mother would dress her daughter to the nines, make her be out past her bedtime and drag her to a concert, she looked that miserable. Then the whole way home, the manic chatter resumed and she came through the door as if on speed, recounting every detail for Sandi with great enthusiasm.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
No joke
FYI- I ran 6 miles again today. Not an Emilie-induced running fluke. I think I am a bonafide runner now. This is no April Fool's people. Maybe I will become Forest Gump- grow my hair long and run barefoot across the country. Oh, there I go... always the immoderate one...
Catch up on the comedy
Luckily there are still funny things happening at our house. Here is an overview:
Ella was sitting on the floor rummaging through the multiple bags of hand me down shoes. Finally, she sighs in exasperation, "I don't know what to do! All the fancy shoes are Maya's size and she doesn't even care about fancy things. She likes things like," and as though it is utter despicable, "pants."
We dropped of a bag of clothes and stuff at Manna, a place Ella has become ever more familiar with since I have been cleaning out closets. Each time we go, she tries to capture a bit more information about the place. I explained that Manna helps people who need clothes and food and help finding a place to live. "But if they need food, they could just go and buy some," she offers. Wow, harder than you think to tell your four-year-old that some people don't have this capability. Insert explanation about working to earn money and paying to live- attempt to be objective and non-judgemental. "So Manna is like a restaurant except that you don't have to pay?" She asks. I'm waiting for her to inquire about why we don't eat there instead of Bugaboo Creek or Pizza Hut.
This morning Ella looked at the window, the snow receding like the hairline of a middle-aged man, and commented, "You can't tell the snow what to do. It doesn't have ears or a face or a nose. Because it doesn't have ears, it can't hear what you are saying. When Grandma talks to the weather, I think she is just kidding."
And this from my niece, Michaela as her mom was hurrying her along so she wouldn't be late for gymnastics: "Mom, don't rush a little kid."
Maya has started helping out around the house. She put 3 plastic blocks and a plastic banana in the dishwasher for me last night as well as a piece of mail in the top rack. She has begun picking up every piece of scrap paper, dirt, and minuscule object off the floor and bringing it to me. She furrows her eyebrows at me and babbles as she places said item in my hand. I want to think she is in spirit of helping, but really I think she is commenting on my housekeeping...Last night I swept just to stop the judgement.
Ella was sitting on the floor rummaging through the multiple bags of hand me down shoes. Finally, she sighs in exasperation, "I don't know what to do! All the fancy shoes are Maya's size and she doesn't even care about fancy things. She likes things like," and as though it is utter despicable, "pants."
We dropped of a bag of clothes and stuff at Manna, a place Ella has become ever more familiar with since I have been cleaning out closets. Each time we go, she tries to capture a bit more information about the place. I explained that Manna helps people who need clothes and food and help finding a place to live. "But if they need food, they could just go and buy some," she offers. Wow, harder than you think to tell your four-year-old that some people don't have this capability. Insert explanation about working to earn money and paying to live- attempt to be objective and non-judgemental. "So Manna is like a restaurant except that you don't have to pay?" She asks. I'm waiting for her to inquire about why we don't eat there instead of Bugaboo Creek or Pizza Hut.
This morning Ella looked at the window, the snow receding like the hairline of a middle-aged man, and commented, "You can't tell the snow what to do. It doesn't have ears or a face or a nose. Because it doesn't have ears, it can't hear what you are saying. When Grandma talks to the weather, I think she is just kidding."
And this from my niece, Michaela as her mom was hurrying her along so she wouldn't be late for gymnastics: "Mom, don't rush a little kid."
Maya has started helping out around the house. She put 3 plastic blocks and a plastic banana in the dishwasher for me last night as well as a piece of mail in the top rack. She has begun picking up every piece of scrap paper, dirt, and minuscule object off the floor and bringing it to me. She furrows her eyebrows at me and babbles as she places said item in my hand. I want to think she is in spirit of helping, but really I think she is commenting on my housekeeping...Last night I swept just to stop the judgement.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Ah-mazing
Allow me to transform this blog from its family-oriented theme momentarily into a bragging outlet.
On Friday evening, I went running and had one of the strongest runs yet (as I told my friend Angela, as in mother of beloved Brady and Anna- I now bow to the inhaler). I very proudly broke the 4 mile mark, something I had not been able to do whilst sucking oxygen-depleted gasps now fixed by the bronchiodiatler, Albuterol. Yes, I have confirmed exercise induced asthma. Emilie, my running muse- as in "I didn't used to be a runner and now I am and I think you could be too"- told me about www.mapmyrun.com which allows you to map out a course and calculates mileage for you.
When I completed my course (and very proudly found it to be 4.13 miles) I also had it tally how many calories I had burned. It came up with an impressive, and utterly ridiculous, 7,000 plus calories. Wow! This running thing may have more to it than I thought. I let Em know my results, told her that I had eaten an entire chocolate cake and was going to bed. She emailed me back, "Um.. hate to break it to you but it was actually more like 700 calories..."
But the real kicker comes the next day when she asks me to fill in as her partner for her long run (on her May 1/2 marathon schedule). Six miles but I could join her 2 miles in for a 4 miler for me. Nah, why not try the whole thing? I can always walk if I get tired.
Let me tell you folks- especially those who don't think they are runners- I ran the whole frickin' thing. And could have kept going. I used to say my favorite part of running was stopping. I am now a reformed, born again runner, friends. And if it can happen to me, it can happen to anyone. Tune in weekly for my sermons on finding runner's redemption...
Also, along the same bragging note- we have renters (with contract to buy within the year) for the Savage St. house. (Thank you Mindy and Charissa for matching us up.) As in, the Savage St. house is occupied and bringing in money. Will wonders ever cease?
(I seriously hope not. I have a lot of miracles I would still like to see.)
On Friday evening, I went running and had one of the strongest runs yet (as I told my friend Angela, as in mother of beloved Brady and Anna- I now bow to the inhaler). I very proudly broke the 4 mile mark, something I had not been able to do whilst sucking oxygen-depleted gasps now fixed by the bronchiodiatler, Albuterol. Yes, I have confirmed exercise induced asthma. Emilie, my running muse- as in "I didn't used to be a runner and now I am and I think you could be too"- told me about www.mapmyrun.com which allows you to map out a course and calculates mileage for you.
When I completed my course (and very proudly found it to be 4.13 miles) I also had it tally how many calories I had burned. It came up with an impressive, and utterly ridiculous, 7,000 plus calories. Wow! This running thing may have more to it than I thought. I let Em know my results, told her that I had eaten an entire chocolate cake and was going to bed. She emailed me back, "Um.. hate to break it to you but it was actually more like 700 calories..."
But the real kicker comes the next day when she asks me to fill in as her partner for her long run (on her May 1/2 marathon schedule). Six miles but I could join her 2 miles in for a 4 miler for me. Nah, why not try the whole thing? I can always walk if I get tired.
Let me tell you folks- especially those who don't think they are runners- I ran the whole frickin' thing. And could have kept going. I used to say my favorite part of running was stopping. I am now a reformed, born again runner, friends. And if it can happen to me, it can happen to anyone. Tune in weekly for my sermons on finding runner's redemption...
Also, along the same bragging note- we have renters (with contract to buy within the year) for the Savage St. house. (Thank you Mindy and Charissa for matching us up.) As in, the Savage St. house is occupied and bringing in money. Will wonders ever cease?
(I seriously hope not. I have a lot of miracles I would still like to see.)
Friday, March 27, 2009
Remember them?
Maya's typically wild streak.
Anna looks like she is generously giving Maya her pacifier but really she is returning it because she stole it in the first place.
Oh, my...
Sunday, March 22, 2009
back in business
We are online again finally. Our internet was down for an entire week and I felt like someone had cut off my oxygen.
Actually, maybe I feel that way because I am actually having trouble breathing and am going to the doctor's tomorrow to get checked for asthma.
Okay, so today I bought myself a new pair of running sneakers and plan to register for the 1/2 marathon officially and tomorrow I am going to get fitted for an inhaler...
Oh, blessed spring... welcome to our frosty state. Know we herald your arrival even if the best we can do to show it a brief reach for 50 degrees at high noon and some rather rude snowflakes that fell today. My bulbs know better. They have peaked their heads up in greeting. Hello little daffodils- hope you slept well and thank you for finally waking...
Actually, maybe I feel that way because I am actually having trouble breathing and am going to the doctor's tomorrow to get checked for asthma.
Okay, so today I bought myself a new pair of running sneakers and plan to register for the 1/2 marathon officially and tomorrow I am going to get fitted for an inhaler...
Oh, blessed spring... welcome to our frosty state. Know we herald your arrival even if the best we can do to show it a brief reach for 50 degrees at high noon and some rather rude snowflakes that fell today. My bulbs know better. They have peaked their heads up in greeting. Hello little daffodils- hope you slept well and thank you for finally waking...
Monday, March 9, 2009
the big choice
Announcement everyone... the girls slept until 7 a.m. Hallela-freakin-lujah.
Ella and Brady are getting eggs which will hatch into chicks (hopefully) at preschool and Ella couldn't be more excited about it. She tells me how they need to be in the inkybator or binkybator (incubator) in order to hatch. I think she believes, despite my corrections, that we are bringing one home. Help me.
But here is the real kicker. Last night, Ella was at the kitchen table eating when she noticed a man walking down the street with his dog.
"I wonder if he has a partner," she muses. "I bet he has a girl partner."
Okay.
"Some people have girl partners and some people have boy partners." Discussion ensues and observations made about the couples in our lives.
Then I ask, "Ella when you grow up do you think you'll have a girl partner or a boy partner?" I'm purely curious to see where her trajectory of thought.
"A girl partner. No, I would like a boy." Then, with complete earnestness, "But how would I get a boy?"
No worries, love. I think Brady Smith would sign up without a second thought...
Ella and Brady are getting eggs which will hatch into chicks (hopefully) at preschool and Ella couldn't be more excited about it. She tells me how they need to be in the inkybator or binkybator (incubator) in order to hatch. I think she believes, despite my corrections, that we are bringing one home. Help me.
But here is the real kicker. Last night, Ella was at the kitchen table eating when she noticed a man walking down the street with his dog.
"I wonder if he has a partner," she muses. "I bet he has a girl partner."
Okay.
"Some people have girl partners and some people have boy partners." Discussion ensues and observations made about the couples in our lives.
Then I ask, "Ella when you grow up do you think you'll have a girl partner or a boy partner?" I'm purely curious to see where her trajectory of thought.
"A girl partner. No, I would like a boy." Then, with complete earnestness, "But how would I get a boy?"
No worries, love. I think Brady Smith would sign up without a second thought...
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Saving Daylight??
Yesterday our neighbor brought over about 100 pairs of shoes for Ella that her daughter had grown out of (thank you Karen!). Ella dumped them all out in the middle of the living room and tried them on as if it was a timed event. She looked like Carrie Bradshaw in a Minolo Blanik outlet store.
Today she asked me if we could order a book from the Scholastic catalog about Halloween? Huh? Halloween now? It was a book about bones with a skeleton on the front.
Ella has figured out a new favorite food and since its components are all fruit I am beside myself. She dips grapes in diluted orange juice. Yum! I gave her a wooden skewer and the introduction of a tool has made it into a sport.
Emilie and I took the kids out for (what we thought was) an early supper last night. Apparently everyone goes out to dinner at 4:45 on a Saturday evening. Talk about a competitive sport. It felt like being on candid camera. Too long a wait at one place which we find out after chasing children for 10 minutes, me running in to Pizzaria Uno to secure a table before the troops followed, playing a relay race with the wait staff to try to get our drinks, our emergency bread sticks order and our kids make-your-own-pizza moving before bedlam broke loose, and literally trying to contain what felt like three (I can't really count Ella so that's why it isn't four) wild animals in a leather booth. Emilie and I were like zoo keepers and no crackers, books or tic tac toe games could occupy for more than a minute. At one point, Emilie got up to walk Reed around while we waited and he snatched a bread stick right off the waitresses tray as she held it in the air. Luckily it was actually our bread stick order... Poor Emilie didn't feel well, they gave us our bill and we threw our credit cards at them and tried to eat while our hands were busy settling our kids. There was about a 2 minute period where the kids ate and it was quiet. The whole restaurant breathed a collective sigh of relief. Then the mac and cheese lost its appeal and the restless feet of Reed Gabriel started tapping. Sounds relaxing, huh?
But really this post is my official complaint about the time change. Did I not do a proper job explaining to my kids that this it the day you sleep later because it is actually earlier?? Apparently not. Maya was up at the real time of 4:45 (now 5:45- try telling my body that- it felt like the middle of the night) and Ella was up at 5:20 (now 6:20). And it didn't get light until fricking 7 a.m. I know, I know, you Seasonal Affect Disorder folks, you're psyched about the light. All I want is to feel human when I wake up again...
Today she asked me if we could order a book from the Scholastic catalog about Halloween? Huh? Halloween now? It was a book about bones with a skeleton on the front.
Ella has figured out a new favorite food and since its components are all fruit I am beside myself. She dips grapes in diluted orange juice. Yum! I gave her a wooden skewer and the introduction of a tool has made it into a sport.
Emilie and I took the kids out for (what we thought was) an early supper last night. Apparently everyone goes out to dinner at 4:45 on a Saturday evening. Talk about a competitive sport. It felt like being on candid camera. Too long a wait at one place which we find out after chasing children for 10 minutes, me running in to Pizzaria Uno to secure a table before the troops followed, playing a relay race with the wait staff to try to get our drinks, our emergency bread sticks order and our kids make-your-own-pizza moving before bedlam broke loose, and literally trying to contain what felt like three (I can't really count Ella so that's why it isn't four) wild animals in a leather booth. Emilie and I were like zoo keepers and no crackers, books or tic tac toe games could occupy for more than a minute. At one point, Emilie got up to walk Reed around while we waited and he snatched a bread stick right off the waitresses tray as she held it in the air. Luckily it was actually our bread stick order... Poor Emilie didn't feel well, they gave us our bill and we threw our credit cards at them and tried to eat while our hands were busy settling our kids. There was about a 2 minute period where the kids ate and it was quiet. The whole restaurant breathed a collective sigh of relief. Then the mac and cheese lost its appeal and the restless feet of Reed Gabriel started tapping. Sounds relaxing, huh?
But really this post is my official complaint about the time change. Did I not do a proper job explaining to my kids that this it the day you sleep later because it is actually earlier?? Apparently not. Maya was up at the real time of 4:45 (now 5:45- try telling my body that- it felt like the middle of the night) and Ella was up at 5:20 (now 6:20). And it didn't get light until fricking 7 a.m. I know, I know, you Seasonal Affect Disorder folks, you're psyched about the light. All I want is to feel human when I wake up again...
Saturday, March 7, 2009
the buddy system
I have every other weekend alone with the girls. I psych myself up for this and try to plan way ahead so I am not left with no structured time in the presence of other adults. This, of course, is tricky, because the weekend is the time most people spend as a family so I try not to interfere (too much.)
This weekend Emilie is on her own because Sam is at a swim meet all weekend proving his aquatic worth (and quite well I might add.) So, of course these extroverted moms planned ahead. This morning we went to the children's museum (which was super fun until Reed took off at lightning speed and made it down a level before he was apprehended) then a break for lunch and nap with a plan to reconvene for play and supper out before we pile them home and put them to bed.
And all I can say is, thank god.
You see, I went out last night with my friend Jess and had two (two!) incredibly yummy margaritas. I finally accepted my vacation-less state and decided not to wait for Mexico to catch a bit of a break. You know, back to good friends not letting you forgot your promise to yourself to drink more alcohol. The bummer is I only got 6 hours of sleep and I am dragging. And then losing an hour with the time change tonight, I think I'd better go to sleep when the girls do...
Funny Ella comments... we picked out new pacifiers for Maya at Target yesterday and Ella wanted to get these cool, wild animal print ones that made the baby's mouth look like a lion or a zebra. I had to nix this, telling her I was looking for BPA-free ones (as in the ones without the toxic chemical in the plastic.) This morning she gave Maya her new pacifier and said, "It's a good thing we got the PBS ones!"
Ella's flare for fashion has taken a new turn. Does anyone remember the twirly dress of yesteryear? The yellow sundress she wore everyday until it looked ratty and beaten? The one that was improperly cut so it curved up high in the back and eventual started to show her bum? The one she wore well into the fall with tights and a sweatshirt? The one Emilie called her "uniform?" Well, I fear she has a new fixation. She asks to wear the same pink flowered shirt and black velvet twirly skirt everyday. The excuse of it being dirty equals Ella in the form of an emotional puddle on the floor. She actually stood in front of her closet full of really nice clothes, many of which are skirts and dresses, yesterday and said, "These just aren't so pretty." Eee gads.
So today, she got on her usual (at the least the tights vary) and came out of the bathroom holding her new bracelet from Brady for me to put on and her princess lipstick. I actually heard myself say, "How about we brush your teeth before you put on your lipstick?"
This weekend Emilie is on her own because Sam is at a swim meet all weekend proving his aquatic worth (and quite well I might add.) So, of course these extroverted moms planned ahead. This morning we went to the children's museum (which was super fun until Reed took off at lightning speed and made it down a level before he was apprehended) then a break for lunch and nap with a plan to reconvene for play and supper out before we pile them home and put them to bed.
And all I can say is, thank god.
You see, I went out last night with my friend Jess and had two (two!) incredibly yummy margaritas. I finally accepted my vacation-less state and decided not to wait for Mexico to catch a bit of a break. You know, back to good friends not letting you forgot your promise to yourself to drink more alcohol. The bummer is I only got 6 hours of sleep and I am dragging. And then losing an hour with the time change tonight, I think I'd better go to sleep when the girls do...
Funny Ella comments... we picked out new pacifiers for Maya at Target yesterday and Ella wanted to get these cool, wild animal print ones that made the baby's mouth look like a lion or a zebra. I had to nix this, telling her I was looking for BPA-free ones (as in the ones without the toxic chemical in the plastic.) This morning she gave Maya her new pacifier and said, "It's a good thing we got the PBS ones!"
Ella's flare for fashion has taken a new turn. Does anyone remember the twirly dress of yesteryear? The yellow sundress she wore everyday until it looked ratty and beaten? The one that was improperly cut so it curved up high in the back and eventual started to show her bum? The one she wore well into the fall with tights and a sweatshirt? The one Emilie called her "uniform?" Well, I fear she has a new fixation. She asks to wear the same pink flowered shirt and black velvet twirly skirt everyday. The excuse of it being dirty equals Ella in the form of an emotional puddle on the floor. She actually stood in front of her closet full of really nice clothes, many of which are skirts and dresses, yesterday and said, "These just aren't so pretty." Eee gads.
So today, she got on her usual (at the least the tights vary) and came out of the bathroom holding her new bracelet from Brady for me to put on and her princess lipstick. I actually heard myself say, "How about we brush your teeth before you put on your lipstick?"
Friday, March 6, 2009
empathy
Last night Ella fell on her way to turn on her nightlight before bed. She fell hard. The kind where there is a pause during which a kid takes a giant inhale before exhaling a guttural scream. She opened her mouth then let out the second wail and out poured the red, as she calls it. When she fell, her teeth jammed up against the inside of her lip, and came through to the outside. She literally has teeth marks on the skin below her lip.
I sat on the bathroom floor holding her crying, bleeding form while nursey went to get Ibuprofen. Maya tottled over, blankie in hand and crawled onto my lap as well, and leaned her head into the crook of Ella's neck. She took her normally rough and smacking hands and stroked Ella's arm. It was the sweetest expression of empathy I think I've ever seen. And quite lost on Ella who cried (who could blame her?) for a very long time.
Yesterday, Brady came over as usual before preschool and had breakfast with us. He just got back from an incredibly exciting trip to Disney and he and Ella were twittering and whispering and laughing about nothing that made any sense. As I'm sipping my tea, I hear Ella say in a loud stage whisper, "There were two blueberry muffins left and one was going to be for you and one for me, but Mommy ate them and now there are none for us!"
I quickly corrected her, saying that it was fine for Mommy to eat them- I just hadn't known they were gone when I suggested Ella and Brady share them.
Ella looked at me quizzically (I swear with a hint of 14 year-old-defiance) and then turned to Brady and said in amazement, "How did she hear what I said?"
Apparently, the whisper takes some perfecting. Especially when your mother is a mere 3 feet across the table from you.
I sat on the bathroom floor holding her crying, bleeding form while nursey went to get Ibuprofen. Maya tottled over, blankie in hand and crawled onto my lap as well, and leaned her head into the crook of Ella's neck. She took her normally rough and smacking hands and stroked Ella's arm. It was the sweetest expression of empathy I think I've ever seen. And quite lost on Ella who cried (who could blame her?) for a very long time.
Yesterday, Brady came over as usual before preschool and had breakfast with us. He just got back from an incredibly exciting trip to Disney and he and Ella were twittering and whispering and laughing about nothing that made any sense. As I'm sipping my tea, I hear Ella say in a loud stage whisper, "There were two blueberry muffins left and one was going to be for you and one for me, but Mommy ate them and now there are none for us!"
I quickly corrected her, saying that it was fine for Mommy to eat them- I just hadn't known they were gone when I suggested Ella and Brady share them.
Ella looked at me quizzically (I swear with a hint of 14 year-old-defiance) and then turned to Brady and said in amazement, "How did she hear what I said?"
Apparently, the whisper takes some perfecting. Especially when your mother is a mere 3 feet across the table from you.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
breaking down
Maya fell on the floor yesterday and landed on the cup she was holding, producing her first bloody nose. "She's got red!" Ella yelled. I don't know what I was expecting. Perhaps, "Nurse, STAT to the kitchen!"
The auger on the corn stove busted this morning (a very messy and obnoxious repair job Sandi did about 2 months ago), the CD player in the Vue was non functional yesterday, our oven won't get up to temperature, the snow blower has a tire that wants to spin like a top instead of use its traction to move forward, I had to shovel out the Savage St. house AGAIN because it still hasn't sold, and our van is getting its bumper replaced for the second time in 6 weeks.
Then we had the sewer back up into our basement. Now we are officially swimming in shit.
Sandi called Roto Rooter and spent 48 hours playing the phone equivalent of hide and seek with them. They said they would come between 4 and 6 Friday and then called at 11 p.m. when we were asleep and said, (in normal cheery daytime tones) "Sorry, we haven't gotten there yet. Can we come in a little bit?" They totally won, though, because we fell for it when they told us they would come at 8 the next morning and then again when they told us they would "call back in 10 minutes" after they figured out what the hold up was. They even went so far as to put Sandi on hold on about call number 12 and then hang up on her. Buh-bye Roto Rooter.
The plumber I called the next day was there within a hour and a half to wade through the mess, give me advice on toilet paper (don't use Quilted Northern, Charmin, or my personal favorite- Cottonelle) and the wisdom of not flushing the supposedly flushable tampon. Just the conversation I want to have at my kitchen table with a complete stranger.
The sad part? I really enjoyed the company...
Now the professional cleaners are downstairs, to the tune of somewhere near $700, and the seasoned (69 year-0ld) cleaner is breaking in his young side kick on his first ever sewage clean-up. There is a lot of bitching going on down there. It pretty unprofessional but I don't really blame him. Although it is nice to have someone else cleaning up the mess around here. I offered to make him coffee but maybe java a poop don't mix.
The aforementioned senior citizen cleaner was giving me some life advice this morning as I was starting the pellet stove. He is a cheery fellow who is wearing a surprisingly nice white collared shirt for today's job. He was telling me about appreciating having a job and just taking the massive clean-up one section at a time, yada yada. Maybe I should quit therapy and have him clean for me and talk to me instead- get two birds with one stone.
The auger on the corn stove busted this morning (a very messy and obnoxious repair job Sandi did about 2 months ago), the CD player in the Vue was non functional yesterday, our oven won't get up to temperature, the snow blower has a tire that wants to spin like a top instead of use its traction to move forward, I had to shovel out the Savage St. house AGAIN because it still hasn't sold, and our van is getting its bumper replaced for the second time in 6 weeks.
Then we had the sewer back up into our basement. Now we are officially swimming in shit.
Sandi called Roto Rooter and spent 48 hours playing the phone equivalent of hide and seek with them. They said they would come between 4 and 6 Friday and then called at 11 p.m. when we were asleep and said, (in normal cheery daytime tones) "Sorry, we haven't gotten there yet. Can we come in a little bit?" They totally won, though, because we fell for it when they told us they would come at 8 the next morning and then again when they told us they would "call back in 10 minutes" after they figured out what the hold up was. They even went so far as to put Sandi on hold on about call number 12 and then hang up on her. Buh-bye Roto Rooter.
The plumber I called the next day was there within a hour and a half to wade through the mess, give me advice on toilet paper (don't use Quilted Northern, Charmin, or my personal favorite- Cottonelle) and the wisdom of not flushing the supposedly flushable tampon. Just the conversation I want to have at my kitchen table with a complete stranger.
The sad part? I really enjoyed the company...
Now the professional cleaners are downstairs, to the tune of somewhere near $700, and the seasoned (69 year-0ld) cleaner is breaking in his young side kick on his first ever sewage clean-up. There is a lot of bitching going on down there. It pretty unprofessional but I don't really blame him. Although it is nice to have someone else cleaning up the mess around here. I offered to make him coffee but maybe java a poop don't mix.
The aforementioned senior citizen cleaner was giving me some life advice this morning as I was starting the pellet stove. He is a cheery fellow who is wearing a surprisingly nice white collared shirt for today's job. He was telling me about appreciating having a job and just taking the massive clean-up one section at a time, yada yada. Maybe I should quit therapy and have him clean for me and talk to me instead- get two birds with one stone.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
cocktails and cardiovascular progress
Two funny things happened to me.
First, I was in the wine aisle at the grocery store, and I thought, "I should drink more."
No, that isn't the funny part.
To say life has been stressful for me lately would be like saying it was just sort of okay that we just inaugurated a black president. My brain works overtime most days and I am usually running on empty- the kind of empty where the low fuel light has been on a while and your really pushing your luck. So I thought a little unwinding at the end of the day would be reasonable idea to give myself a break. I bought a bottle of Riesling.
Now, I am not saying that I don't have my addictive/compulsive tenants to my personality. I could easily abuse any cake, peanut butter cup, ice cream or chocolate, good or poor quality. God help me if it is a peanut butter cup ice cream sundae with chocolate sauce served over warm chocolate cake. Okay, you get the point. But, bysome stroke of miracle given the alcoholic genes I carry, I just am not drawn that way.
So the next day, I realized I had forgotten to drink the Riesling. And I thought, "Dammit! I forgot to have a drink!" Luckily, my friends Meredith and Jason brought the alcohol part of a cooperative dinner part last night and she made me the yummiest blackberry pomegranate martini (okay, in truth it was more than one.) Real friends won't let you forget a promise you make to yourself to consume more alcohol.
Secondly- okay really 1A- I seem to have a penchant for running in the snow. I've been running most days and every time I lace up, the powder falls. Except yesterday it was ice slivers shooting into my eyes like glass. The rest of the day? Sunny and warm... I ran during the only period of precipitation.
And the second thing... I went out for a run today just to blow off some steam. I didn't feel like running, was just going for survival of the fittest. And a crazy thing happened. My frickin heart and legs just went out and did it. My mind was not in the game- I even thought about just walking- but there I was running for dear life, thinking about stopping, and my body saying, "Um, you know we can actually handle this..." Whose body is this anyway?
First, I was in the wine aisle at the grocery store, and I thought, "I should drink more."
No, that isn't the funny part.
To say life has been stressful for me lately would be like saying it was just sort of okay that we just inaugurated a black president. My brain works overtime most days and I am usually running on empty- the kind of empty where the low fuel light has been on a while and your really pushing your luck. So I thought a little unwinding at the end of the day would be reasonable idea to give myself a break. I bought a bottle of Riesling.
Now, I am not saying that I don't have my addictive/compulsive tenants to my personality. I could easily abuse any cake, peanut butter cup, ice cream or chocolate, good or poor quality. God help me if it is a peanut butter cup ice cream sundae with chocolate sauce served over warm chocolate cake. Okay, you get the point. But, bysome stroke of miracle given the alcoholic genes I carry, I just am not drawn that way.
So the next day, I realized I had forgotten to drink the Riesling. And I thought, "Dammit! I forgot to have a drink!" Luckily, my friends Meredith and Jason brought the alcohol part of a cooperative dinner part last night and she made me the yummiest blackberry pomegranate martini (okay, in truth it was more than one.) Real friends won't let you forget a promise you make to yourself to consume more alcohol.
Secondly- okay really 1A- I seem to have a penchant for running in the snow. I've been running most days and every time I lace up, the powder falls. Except yesterday it was ice slivers shooting into my eyes like glass. The rest of the day? Sunny and warm... I ran during the only period of precipitation.
And the second thing... I went out for a run today just to blow off some steam. I didn't feel like running, was just going for survival of the fittest. And a crazy thing happened. My frickin heart and legs just went out and did it. My mind was not in the game- I even thought about just walking- but there I was running for dear life, thinking about stopping, and my body saying, "Um, you know we can actually handle this..." Whose body is this anyway?
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