Why Grandparents are Grand

Do you remember the age when your grandparents would come to visit, or you'd go to see them and you'd be so excited because they were just the coolest people on the planet?  The time in which if offered a choice between something fun and having your grandparent(s) around you'd pick the grandparent option without even dithering?

I remember that time.  I had some great grandparents and it was always magical when they were around.  We'd talk about going to visit my grandfather and grandmother in Georgia and I would wait eagerly for the trip to arrive and then have a spectacular time in their old, creaky, dark house because it was their house and because they were more fun than a basket of kittens.

I also remember my grandmother coming to visit for a week in the summer and all the fun things we did together.  I remember her hunting me down with the remnants of my lunch, finding me at the swing and barganing with me on how I could swing higher and better if I would eat a bite of food every so often.  I bought it and I would eat a bite and then demonstrate how much higher I could swing now that I had finished my lunch.  Yeah, she was slick.

There's something about grandparents that makes the name so appropriate.  They are most definitely grand.  My children are just entering the ages in which they're beginning to understand how great grandparents can be.  My son loves different things about each grandparent, but he lights up in delight when he first sees any of them.

It's a joy to re-experience what you remember from your childhood through your children.

The Big Boy Update:  Eczema improvement.  It's not gone, and he still has skin issues, but I realized today that his skin has consistently been much better.  Maybe it's the reduction in egg white consumption; maybe he's just growing out of it.  Either way, it's looking better than it has in a long time.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Nana!  I thought she has said, "Nana" before, but I wasn't sure.  She's inclined to repeat what her brother says more than anything else, mostly because he is such a repeater himself.  Tonight, at Dairy Queen, we got confirmation while Nana was feeding her ice cream that yes, she can say, "Nana."

Someone Once Said:  Everything in excess! To enjoy the flavor of life, take big bites. Moderation is for monks.

Bed Spread or Comforter?

There is a difference.  At least in my mind.  A comforter is a fluffy thing that goes on top of the sheets.  A bed spread is a less-fluffy thing that goes on top of the sheets.  Okay, that's not a huge distinction, but it's a definite, clearly-defined difference in my mind.

It seems to me that people prefer one over the other.  A quilt would qualify as a "bed spread" in my mind; while a down-filled duvet is the most comfortery version of a comforter.  The bed spread is less thick, but not necessairly lighter.  In fact, a good bed spread may be significantly heavier than a comforter.

Since I was old enough to have a preference, I've liked a comforter over a bed spread.  As a child growing up, I managed to wear out (or wreck) a good number of comforters over the years.  I have very fond memories of two of them though.  And that's because they were satin.

Satin?  It sounds like a strange thing to have on your bed.  Covering your bed from side-to-side, top-to-bottom, with slippery satin all over sounds strange.  You would most likely not find a satin comforter in most bed and home goods stores today.  But back when I was a teen, the ability to make satin at a reasonable price must have happened and it came in vogue.  And I had it.

The first comforter was cream.  It was great fun, but it slid off the bed a lot.  The second one, some years later when the cream was more like stained ecru and needed to be replaced, was baby blue.  I loved them both. 

Do they still make satin comforters?  And if they do, are they used in polite society or only on guys beds who want to trap, "the babes?"   Maybe I'll search the internet when I'm done with this post...

The Big Boy Update:  Ice.  He likes ice cream.  But he hasn't made it to the word, "cream" yet.  He will chant, "ice...ice...ice" if he sees you with ice cream and he wants some though.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Best little eater.  Just like the proverbial, "Mikey," she will try anything.  Given that she's up for variety of food at this age, I'm up for giving her as many taste sensations and flavors as possible so she'll have broader experiences.  Hopefully she'll like all of those foods when she gets older.  Also, she is getting fat.  Cute, baby rolls of fat.

Fitness Update:  Tired.  Hungry.  Out of town and without my running buddy I did five miles today.  But I didn't run five miles.  That's right, I walked a good bit of it.  And that's strange for me.  It wasn't a particularly hard run, but I just wasn't ready to be running. 

Someone Once Said:  Writing is not necessarily something to be ashamed of, but do it in private and wash your hands afterwards.

I Can Has Cheezburger?

If the title of this post makes no sense, then you have missed out on an internet craze: pictures of cats with funny, misspelled quotes over their heads.  Penny, from The Big Bang Theory summarized it best when she said: "They're cute, and they can't spell... because they're cats."  Check out icanhas.cheezburger.com if you want to see the silliness that got started long ago with a picture of a hopeful looking cat captioned, "I can has cheezburger?" 

And that is totally unrelated to what I wanted to write about in this post except that that phrase ran through my mind today.

I don't like hamburgers.  Or cheeseburgers.  Okay, cheeseburgers are better than hamburgers because of the cheese.  And we all know just about everything can be improved with a bit of cheese.  But still, I don't crave hamburgers.  I don't order them at restaurants.  I am always disappointed when I look at a menu and see over half of the items offered varying versions of hamburgers.  I don't dislike hamburgers, they're just last on my list of things I'd order.  So last, that I always find something else I want first.

Until yesterday.  Instead of my nuggets at McDonalds, I ordered the two cheeseburger meal.  Now my go-to order when I'm not in the mood for nuggets is the Fish Filet.  But cheeseburgers?  How odd.  I thought maybe I was trying something else so I could give my son and daughter a taste, but in thinking back now, I think I just wanted the cheeseburgers.

Then today we ate at Red Robin.  Talk about most of your menu being burgers.  Uncharacteristically, I read through the whole list of burger offerings.  And then I did the unexpected, I ordered one.  I had it on good authority from my niece that the bacon cheeseburger was good.  And oh, it was.  It was very good.

But I don't normally like or crave burgers.  In my mind its like ordering blah menu item number twelve or blah menu item number twelve with cheese.  And yet two days in a row I ordered cheeseburgers.  Exercise-based craving for protein?   I had run the last two mornings with me neighbor and in the afternoon with Uncle Jonathan for a total of seventeen miles in less than two days, so I'm guessing I needed it in some way.  Either way, the burgers were exactly what I wanted and I really enjoyed them.

The Big Boy Update:  Find the yes.  Some advice from another parent about children my son's age was to, "find the yes."  It's an age where they can get into everything they're not suppose to get into and they can break things or hurt themselves.  One of the things they hear all day long from adults is "no."  So it's important to find a way to say yes to things too.  It's also when they learn to say no to everything.  At this point, I'd like to find a yes from him.  Any question you ask him, anything at all, and his answer is, "noo!"   

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Ready, Set, Gooooooooo.   Both babies were in the tub tonight and my husband and I were playing a game with my son in which we tried to empty cups quickly.  We would say, "Ready...set...go!" and pull our cups rapidly out of the water.  He got the hang of it after a few times.  Then we noticed my daughter was saying, "ooooooooooo" with us while said. "goooooo" and drained our cups.  She did it every time.  She was watching us carefully and her timing was right on. 

Someone Once Said:   Don’t ever become a pessimist. A pessimist is correct more of the time, but an optimist has more fun – and neither can stop the march of events.

The Friendly Lunches

Do you have friends you can catch up with effortlessly?  Friends that are supportive, interested, interesting and easy to be around?  Maybe you see them frequently, maybe you see them rarely, but you always enjoy when you do see them.

I have two friends I met through other friends.  When we initially met, we got along well but we didn't have a real overlapping of friends and didn't see each other often.  It wasn't until one of the three suggested we have a ladies lunch together that we became closer friends.  We each have multiple children, and we each have our own lives, but we like to get together every few months for another lunch date.  Sometimes there is a gaggle of kids involved, sometimes there are none.  Either way, we get a chance to catch up.
 
Today we had two-thirds of a gaggle of children.  We each understood we could listen to the other person's story about piano lessons, family vacations, home schooling, etc. while tending to a hungry, cranky or antsy child.  It was a hectic lunch.  It was a long lunch.  But we got caught up and and had fun throughout.

As I was driving home I found myself smiling.  Smiling because as crazy as it was, it was also relaxing to be with these two friends.  We are all three different.  We've taken different paths with our children, our hobbies, our passions.  But we're supportive of each other.  Supportive in a non-critical, non-judgmental way.   It's nice to be around friends who accept you for you, and are happy for you, no matter what path you take.  

The Big Boy Update:  Febrile.  He's been hoarse, but no other symptoms.  Last night he didn't want dinner and then we realized he had a low fever.  Out of school today and tomorrow as well because he needs to be twenty-four hours without a fever before coming back to school.  Of course, an hour after some ibuprofen and he's running around causing pandemonium in the basement, but rules are rules.  When I spoke with the school administrator, she said, "Toddler Plague has arrived."  Her son went through it last year.  Right now, there are two or three known bugs circulating through the two Toddler Houses at school.  Fortunately, we got the fever one and not the stomach flu one.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Chocolate Toast.  Okay, hazelnut toast.  Nutella!  I've never had it before but my mother-in-law brought some over recently.  It's like liquid chocolate and you get to put it on bread-type items.  My daughter thought it was great.  Great in her mouth, great on her nose, great in her ear, great in her hair...

Someone Once Said:   A friend who offers help without asking for explanations is a treasure beyond measure.

Quotation Addition

Main blog post, update on my son, update on my daughter, update on fitness, and I'm thinking about adding another section to each day's posts.  This is clearly an indication I'm not as bright as people have said I am.

Or perhaps I'm under the illusion that I have more time than I think I do.  Maybe I've found a way to squeeze twenty-five hours out of a twenty-four hour day.  Or maybe it turns out I have more to say than I thought I did.

So new section as of today with a quotation that has some meaning to me.  I've collected quotes for years and years.  When I read a book and something strikes me as true, I turn down the page and take a note of it later.  Then, when I need inspiration, reassurance, validation, etc. at some later point, I refer back to my list of quotes. 

A single quote can help crystallize a situation, give you the fortitude to know you're doing the right thing or confirm that you need to rethink how you're behaving so you'd best straighten yourself out.  That's the power of a good quote. 

But I'm going to break with tradition.  I'm not going to give the quotation a citation.  I'm not taking credit for it, no no no.  I just want to focus on the message.  If it bothers you all that much, send me an email and I'll give you the details. 

The Big Boy Update:  The French Fry Hand-off.  He's hungry and we're on the way home.  I have raw beets and Brussels sprouts for lunch and... wait, no I don't.  I went to the drive through at McDonalds because, nuggets... yeah!  Okay, strike one for healthy, but we make it up in other ways with nutritional food choices.  Back to the car though.  He can smell the fries.  And he is a master at grabbing them out of my hand.  I get one or two long ones in my hand and wave them behind me while I drive.  I don't have to look back.  He will grab them from wherever I wave.  He despises things that are hot, but he will take a piping hot french fry and hold on until it cools down enough to eat.  Then he asks for, "moi." 

The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Do not tread lightly.  She doesn't.  She crawls with purpose.  If she's on the hardwood floors,  you can hear her coming.  If she's on the carpet, you still might be able to hear where she's going.  Either way, she's moving fast.

Fitness Update:  Five miles this morning, three this afternoon.  Two running buddies.  Fun.

Someone Once Said:  Hear, hear!  'Less than perfect.'  What I've been aiming for all my life.

Situations In Which You Shouldn't Be Able To Drive, But Can

Hmm, let's say "illegal" instead of "shouldn't."  I've experienced two of these lately.  And no calling the police on me because I'm writing about it. 

We drive compromised all the time. Yes, we shouldn't be texting while driving.  But we shouldn't be eating french fries or trying to reinsert a pacifier in the child's mouth either or even trying to find a better radio station.  So stipulate that we can and do distract ourselves to various degrees while driving.  Then consider that as a rational person, you can evaluate weather you should be driving or not. 

The first situation I've experienced lately is dilated eyes.  Yeah, I can see, but it's not my standard vision.  I had a dilated eye for an entire week and the other eye was having to do all the work.  Was my vision that bad?  Most likely not.  It was bad based on what my vision normally is.  But... would I have passed the vision test at the DMV if I went in that state?  I'm thinking no.   So I drove with extra care.

The second is nitrous oxide.  The dentist I go to that was so kind to tear out the molar from my jaw used nitrous oxide on me to ease the brutality of the procedure.  I think I napped through part of it.  At any rate, at the end of the procedure they sent me off without even a warning that I might want to wait in the waiting room for a while before driving. 

I suppose nitrous oxide affects people differently, and it does dissipate quickly.  But it takes longer than it does for you to pay the bill to go away.  I walked over to the grocery store and got a few things before driving home.  I think that extra few minutes was important from a safety perspective.

It is called a DWI and the I stands for Impaired.  Still, I'm surprised in some cases you're not given a warning or even required to wait before driving away what with the litigious state of the nation in which we live.

The Big Boy Update:  So many words.  I had a goal to list his new words here, but it's just a torrent now.  He can get a word on the first try sometimes.  Other words, like his name, he's still working on because some sounds are more difficult than others.  And then there are the words you don't know he knows.  He comes out with a very clear usage of a word and then you find out from your mother, or father-in-law, or husband that yes, he's known that word because they taught it to him.  He's also doing more combining of words than ever before.  But my favorite is when he practices words and just flings out words he knows while he's doing something unrelated.  It's random practice and repetition.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  She's not tired, she's looking.  She does this really cute thing regularly.  She's crawling and suddenly you think she's just given up for tired because she completely lays down on her stomach.  But she's not tired, she's looking at something.  Maybe she's looking for fluff under the sofa or she's trying to see the dog under the bed.  After a bit of visual inspection, she gets up and keeps going.

Fitness Update:  Two bowls of ice cream.  Recovery from long runs has its benefits.

Treat Everyone As If They Are Equal, Especially If They Are Not

My parents raised my by example.  They never once, even when I became an adult, explained to me how we're suppose to treat all people equally and that no one was better or worse than anyone else.  They didn't need to, because that's what they always did by example.

But it's not true really, is it?  This whole, "we're all equal" thing.  Because we're not.  Some people are smarter than others.  Some people are more attractive.  Some people have disabilities and some people are just taller than the rest of us.  Those distinctions do make us different.

Ideally, we should all have the same opportunities in life.  We should each be given the best chance to strive and be successful, be happy and flourish.  But there are hungry people in the world.  There are people who don't have the chance to go to medical school, because their family is poor and they have to stay home and take care of a sick parent.

So while I try to treat everyone as if they're equal, I find I am more kindly, more polite, more understanding, to people who haven't had the chances I have or who possibly aren't as capable.

In the drive-thru line at McDonalds, I find I always say, "yes ma'am" or "thank you sir" and when I drive off I give the person a big smile that's a genuine thank you for making my day with these delicious french fries.

To the person who comes in to clean the bathroom as I'm washing my hands, I smile and tell them to have a nice day.  And I mean it.  There are people in the world who do lots of things I don't want to do.  I'm guessing they're not excited about cleaning toilets or serving up french fries every day too.

I don't know what circumstances got people to where they are, but I always try to be grateful and friendly, especially in a situation where the person is doing a thankless or difficult or menial job around me.  

The Big Boy Update:  Feeding the dog.  At school he's given jobs that adults do and he's asked to help do them.  He helps set the table for snack, clean up the table after snack, feed the guinea pig, put toys away and generally do things that model what an adult does.  The other day I asked him if he'd like to help feed the dog.  I got the little measuring cup out and we got her food.  He carefully carried it over to her bowl and poured it in.  He was very happy about being trusted with a grown-up job to do.  And the dog, as always, was glad it was dinner time.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  The Plate Cleaner.  My son doesn't do the best job at cleaning his plate.  This morning after the milk was gone, my daughter decided she was still hungry.  She had some spoonfuls of cereal in milk and found it satisfactory.  I say her down in his high chair and spooned her more and then let her work on his breakfast bar remnants.  She hardly ever gets full, but she did close her mouth, firmly, to indicate she was done eventually.  So the bottomless pit theory has been dis-proven.

Fitness Update:  14.5 miles in one day.  Most distance yet.  I ran with Jonathan in the afternoon yesterday and added 2.5 miles to my total for the day after my morning twelve mile run.  I was and am tired.

The Value of Calories

This weekend at our neighborhood party I got to talking with a neighbor who has experienced similar comments about her weight for years.  We commiserated and we each took away some good ideas from the other.

I like statistics.  Statistics are fun.  I love my heart rate monitor for running.  I don't really need it, most runs, but I find what it tracks interesting.  I like the app and associated web site for Endomondo because it tracks all my workouts and I get even more nifty data about how I'm getting in shape and am much less of a slob than I've been in the pre-pregnancy past.

But my neighbor has me beat.  She works out five days each week.  She does multiple types of exercising through the summer and winter months, and she tracks it all.  Back to 1984.  Yeah, wow, right?

She's maintained the same size for the most part and eats well, but she also loves a good glass of wine or a nice slice of cheesecake.  And what makes her madder than anything is when people tell her, "Well, you're thin, look at you, you can eat anything."  Because she can't and she knows it. She works hard to eat what she wants and keep fit.

She and I talked about the value of calories.  How there are only so many you can fit into your daily intake.  She is a firm believer in only eating what you really want to eat.  Don't like that side dish?  Don't eat it.  Don't want the bread that comes with the meal?  Ask for it to be left off. 

I agreed.   We talked about calories being something you could categorize as either, "no" or "hell yes" and if you're not sure if you want something, see if there's a hell yes option that you do want.

Then I talked about buffets.  Because you can get one little spoonful of something as a taste.  And then you can move right along.  Buffets are so much fun. 

The Big Boy Update:  Carpooling.  Or curbside drop-off and pick-up.  After three days of school, I got a phone call that he is ready to not only go the full three hours, but he can, if we feel comfortable, be drooped off at the curb.  And we are comfortable.  Because who wouldn't love to drive up, have your car door whisked open, your child skillfully removed by a kind teacher and an older student walk him to his room?  He didn't balk at the strange teacher that extricated him from the car.  And he looked interested when another teacher walked him in.  He didn't even look back.  Pick up was just as easy.  I may get jealous if he starts liking these nice teachers more than mommy though...

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  A trustworthy eater.  She's only nine months old, but you can give her just about anything and she will eat it with care.  Okay, not with care, she's a wreck at the end of a meal.  But she has very good judgement in deciding what should be gummed, what can be swallowed whole and what should be spit out.  My choking concern for her is one of high confidence.

Fitness Update:  Twelve miles.  In the dark.  Uphill.  Both ways.  Two of those statements are true.  The other two are fibs.  First, it was twelve miles.  But only the first bit was in the dark.  There were lots of hills yes, but it not both ways.  My neighbor and I wanted to get a long run for our half marathon training regime.  And in order to get in two hours of running when there are children to get to school, you have to start early.  So we ran in the dark, pre-dawn around the neighborhood.  Then we went into the park and ran with the other runners and bikers. 

YAG Capsulotomy (or Fun with Floaters)

I am frequently asked, "Are your eyes done yet?"  by people who know I've had eye surgery to improve my vision that also know I'm taking a route that's not the standard LASIK path.  So what's the update?  Am I seeing craters on Mars with the unaided eye yet?  It's not been a straightforward path to my bionic eyes, and I'm not there yet.

I started out fairly eye-ignorant, so here are some details of all the fun ocular things I've learned about or have experienced so far.

To start, I wasn't a good candidate for LASIK for vision correction due to the prescription I have.  However, I was a good candidate for lens replacement.  It's an entirely different, more dramatic, but longer lasting option. So that's the route I went.

The thing you need to know up front is I had what people commonly call, "cataract surgery" only not.  And this is confusing.  It's confusing in the terminology.  If the lens in your eye is not cloudy, it is a "clear lens."  If it has become cloudy, it has transformed into a cataract.  You don't have "a cataract on your lens,"  your lens has clouded and is now referred to as "a cataract."

If you have a cataract and have the cataract replaced, you have replaced your natural, clouded lens, with an artificial one and you have had "cataract surgery."  However, if you have a clear lens, that isn't cloudy at all, and you have the exact same artificial lens implanted, you have had a "Clear Lens Exchange."  It is the same surgery.  There are two different names for the your lens (clear lens or cataract), and there are two names for the surgery (cataract and clear lens exchange.)  But it's ultimately the same thing.  Hence the confusion.

If you decide to have an artificial lens implanted, you have choices.  There are multiple manufacturers and they produce lenses that accomplish different things.  Some are better for close-up vision, some for far sight and some are accommodating lenses that work at all distances.  I went with the most dynamic lens so I wouldn't need glasses for any distance.

At the completion of everything, I will have lenses that won't ever get cataracts, they won't harden and require reading glasses as I get older (known as presbyopia), and they will stay at the same, correct, prescription over time.  Attractive sounding, isn't it?

It's more dramatic though.  There are lots of videos demonstrating what happens in a clear lens exchange. Below is a link to a short video that goes through the process.  But beware, this isn't fun to watch.  It's instruments in your eye that are destroying the natural lens and sucking it out with a straw-like tool followed by an aggressive-looking shoving of an artificial lens into the now-empty capsule. Clear lens exchange with Crystalens artificial lens  You were warned.

Once the lens exchange surgery is complete, the lens needs time to settle into place.  My first eye did well, but was off of the target prescription.  That's not ideal, but is relatively easy to correct with LASIK.  We waited to do the second lens implant to see how the first eye would end up.  Based on those results, the prescription for the lens in the second was adjusted and when it was implanted, the result was right on.

But that's not all.  I have an astigmatism in both eyes.  During the lens exchange surgery, the surgeon also did Astigmatic Keratotomy (or AK) on both eyes.  Astigmatic Keratotomy are incisions made on the surface of your eye that address a football-like lopsidedness of the eye known as an astigmatism.

So there's more to be done.  The first eye needs LASIK to adjust the slight farsightedness from the variation in the implant.  The second eye needs a touch more AK to complete the astigmatism correction.  These need to be completed once both lenses have been well situated the vision has stabilized from both implants.

But wait, there's more.  I had a YAG Capsulotomy yesterday.  The only way I can explain this procedure is to make an M&M analogy.  (Say that three times, "M&M analogy," it's fun, isn't it?)

Imagine the lens in your eye as an M&M.  In the clear lens exchange procedure the chocolate filling is broken up and sucked out through a hole in the perimeter of the candy shell.  Next, an artificial, chocolate-tasting lozenge with handles is inserted in the hole.  This artificial lozenge is somewhat smaller than the original, natural, chocolate filling.  But now the shell of your M&M doesn't have the supporting interior chocolate holding it up and over time it crinkles over time.  Imagine that outer shell as a thin, saran wrap-type material that's crinkly.  And imagine trying to see through it.

That's what the YAG Capsulotomy procedure does.  It gets rid of the crinkle.  Here's a video of the procedure, and the ouch-factor on this one is quite low in comparison to the last one: YAG Capsulotomy.  To continue the M&M analogy, this procedure just blows holes in the front and back sides of the M&M so you can see straight through it.  The result is you have a clearer, unobstructed view.

This procedure is fast.  I went in to the doctor's office yesterday expecting to be there for hours because, it's surgery.  And we all know, surgery is drawn out, it's slow, and you pay extra to wait longer usually, right?  Nope, shortest appointment I've had there yet.  They dilated my eyes, sat me down for ten minutes for the dilation to complete, the doctor walked in to a small machine and did some zaps (just like in the video) and sent me straight home. 

Side effects?  Floaters.  The blown away capsule bits are having a party floating around in my eyes today.  And you can't blink them away because they're in the interior of the eye.  They won't ever be  absorbed, but they'll settle out pretty quickly to the bottom of the capsule only to resurface under head trauma.  And we're not signing up for any head trauma, thank you very much.

So in summary, where are we with the long list of eye stuff that's getting done as I move towards my 200 megapixel vision goal?  Lens replacement?  Complete.  AK?  Two-thirds complete.  Crinkled lens capsule?  Crippled.  LASIK and AK adjustments?  To come in the next month.  Vision finalization?  To be completed with those word search puzzles once all procedures are done.

But I'm close.  I'm already seeing very well.  I'm pleased with how far we've gotten and I'm getting pretty excited about well I may be able to see things when everything is complete.  Rings of Saturn...I plan on seeing you from the backyard soon, so get ready.

The Big Boy Update: Out of the bed and into the classroom.  He can climb out of his crib today.  He's been close for a while, but he knows now that he can do it.  This is going to be fun for him and annoying for us soon I'm guessing.  On the school front, he's adjusted well and we're going for the full school day tomorrow.  His teacher kept him an extra forty-five minutes today because she said he wasn't ready to go yet. 

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Bird Study.  She's participated in a hearing study twice now as a volunteer.  I sit her on my lap, have headphones on me playing music so I can't hear what she's hearing, react, and invalidate her responses, and she listens to sounds while watching a monitor.  The study helps understand what sounds a child knows innately are warning or danger sounds and at what age they lose the ability to naturally discern a warning bird sound from a normal bird sound.  Apparently we know these things when we're young but somehow lose them as we grow older.

Fitness Update:  I ran with my cousin today and we had some fun with hills.  Or rather, not so much fun.  Hills are just not fun.  But hills make us better runners.  So we ran what we could and took walk breaks from time to time.  We did over four miles and we had a great time talking.  Running with someone is so nice.  It's a great way to get caught up and get exercise at the same time.

The Yard Salad

If there was anyone who was full of energy when they were a child, it was me.  My mother and father have told me more times than I can count how I was a challenge and how I had enough energy for seven children hopped up on sugar.  And I believe it.  I remember not understanding why I had to slow down or why bed time was always too soon for my liking.

Now I have children.  And now I know.  I suppose it's not common that you hear a parent say, "My Desiray is just the most calm child.  She sits and does her work quietly and never bothers anyone.  She never has uncontrolled bursts of energy."  I suppose that's because children are made up of 82.3% high-energy compound of some sort.

So my mother would come up with lots of ways to keep me occupied in a way that would also burn energy.  One of her special tricks was to have me help with the dinner by making a "yard salad."

First, you have to be old enough to know that what you're making isn't a real salad.  Because it's going to be made up of all sorts of yard things.  A "garden salad" denotes items from a garden, which commonly are edible.  Yard salads aren't edible, but they can be very pretty.

She'd give me one of her big salad bowls, and off we'd go—I'd frequently have a friend from the neighborhood over who also had excess energy—and we would hunt down the most perfect, beautiful, unusual leaves or even pretty rocks.  We'd arrange them so the "salad" would look as enticing as possible to unsuspecting dinner guests who didn't know it's true origin.

And if we did an exceptional job, we would show mom and she'd give us a little packet of that powdered salad dressing mix and we'd get to sprinkle it all on top.

At dinner, usually out on the deck during yard salad season, our salad would be featured proudly at the center of the table.

Mom was always complimentary of our work, saying how delicious it looked and how thankful she was that we were able to contribute to the dinner in such a helpful way.  Because that's what moms do, right?  Encourage.

The Big Boy Update:  I think school is tiring.  He took a morning nap after school yesterday, something he doesn't do often any more.  And now, after his second day, he's tried to make a little bed under the exer-saucer (or contraption as we like to call it.)   He's gone to the cabinet and brought out the blanket when I wasn't looking.  But he's too big for underneath it.  He then got a pillow and tried to get comfortable.  I suggested he try napping under the table, and helped make a little tent under there with a second blanket.  He may be nodding off as I type this...

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Unhappy baby parts.  Nose—snotty.  Bits—rashy.  Temperament—strained.  Antibiotics—not helping.  After six days of antibiotics with no improvement, we're voting them off the island in favor of a viral diagnosis.  The antibiotics are making her yeast infection worse.  They are also giving her diarrhea which is making the yeast infection more painful—and also worse.  Here's to a happier baby tomorrow.

Breakfast as Reward or Punishment?

When I was dieting I didn't have enough calories to split across three meals and be able to really enjoy eating those meals.  I can't stick to a diet if it's not something I can maintain.  Eating things I enjoy, that taste good, and are filling were what keep me on the diet until I was done.

As a result, I didn't eat breakfast because I was saving those calories for a larger lunch or dinner.  We ate a lot of early lunches as a result.  Due to hunger.  It's embarrassing when you ask your husband what he wants for lunch at 10:30 and he says he was about to ask you the same thing.

Breakfast is such a great meal though.  There are just loads of breakfasty things I adore.  So getting done with the diet and being able to get back to breakfasts was something I looked forward to.

But I've still been using breakfast as a weight-management tool I realized.  I would get up in the morning, sometimes exercise, sometimes not, and then I'd weigh myself.  The results of that weighing would determine if I got to have breakfast or if I had to drink a coffee and water until lunch.

So was I treating breakfast as a punishment or reward?  Sounds strange, I know.  But I've just come to the realization that I've been doing it backwards.  If my weight came in within the accepted range, I was maintaining, so I didn't have breakfast.  But if it came in below the accepted range, even by two tenths of a pound, I had to have breakfast because I didn't want to continue to lose weight.

So I was rewarding myself with breakfast for being underweight, with the thought that I'd better put some food back in to balance out, and I was punishing myself for being the right weight by not getting any breakfast.  And that didn't make sense.

Or did it?  It was based on a good plan—one in which I wouldn't merit breakfast if I had started gaining weight again.  But so far, that's not been the case. So starting today, I get to have breakfast if I'm within range (or under) because, hey, breakfast is so darned good.  Bacon.  Pancakes.  Are you with me people?.

The Big Boy Update:  First real day of school.  He was only at school for an hour, but his teacher said he wasn't ready to go home when I picked him up.  He apparently did lots of cleaning in the classroom and was very receptive to new activities.  Tomorrow he goes for another hour or possibly more.  I will be over at Whole Foods, having another breakfast from their expansive breakfast bar.  I am liking this school thing.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Walking with assistance.  She likes to stand up and push along the walker scooter toys.  She smiles and does this laugh that's really cute.  If only she could figure out how to turn the scooter, she'd be making laps around the house.

The Herpes of Craft Supplies

I got up yesterday morning, ready to get prepared for the neighborhood party we were hosting later and in the mirror I saw on my shoulder a glit.  Is that a word?   What's the singular form of glitter?  Was there, "a glitter" on my shoulder?  Saying there "is glitter" on my shoulder could mean  a full covering or just one little spec.  Well bother, I don't know.  In any case, there was one of them.  And it was on my shoulder. 

I don't employ glitter makeup.  I thought back and hadn't gotten a glitter-laden card from anyone in the mail in a long time.  And most certainly, I hadn't gone to sleep with glitter containers with slightly loose lids.  So where did it come from?  I don't know. 

Glitter is the herpes of craft supplies though, once you have it, you're never really free from it.

The Big Boy Update:  First day of school.  It was registration day with students and parents spending time in the classroom together.  He touched, I believe, every single thing in the classroom.  He played with all the things.  Washed his hands several times with help, visited the guinea pig, Coconut, multiple times, swept the floor at length including under the tables, carried a six-pound medicine ball around quite a lot and generally had a great time interacting with things and people.  Tomorrow is the first day he goes for real school.  One hour for the first day or two.  If today was any indication, he's going to like school a lot.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Snot.  She has a lot.  She's on antibiotics, but it's not yet helping.  She dislikes having the nasal aspirator help with the snot.  LOUDLY dislikes..

Fitness Update:  New belt?  I don't really want a more advanced, feature-filled running belt.  But this running of longer distances has made me want or need additional things on my person during a run.  My neighbor and I ran our eight mile run this morning and talked about longer distances for half-marathon training.  These belts can hold mini water bottles and little packets of "goo" for energy boosts during a run.  But I loath to run more gear.  For now, I got us a sample of the goo packets to see if they work when we get into a long run and I'm just going to cram it into the single pouch on the little belt I have now.

A Thin Line

I weigh the same now as I did two months ago.  Weekly weigh-ins and I know I'm keeping on track.  "There is no more weight to lose," I tell people.  But I could lose more for someone else.  I could do it now with all the exercise.  Just send over some of your excess pounds and I'll see what I can do while I run around the park.  In the meantime, I'm just going to have a great time eating ice cream and loving buffets because my metabolism can sustain the higher intake.

I did see someone today when I was running that was too thin.  Emaciated looking even.  The kind of thin you worry about when you see on a person.  I've written here about how my frustrations from comments I've gotten—continue to get even—about being thin.  It seems to be appropriate in our society to comment that someone is looking too thin, that they're too skinny, that they should eat more.  While it's an unspoken social taboo to mention to someone that you can tell they've gained weight, that they should, "take off some pounds," should consider their health, etc.

The runner passing me yesterday made me think all sorts of things about her.  When I see an overweight person running by, I cheer them on mentally because I know they're doing something hard.  But I saw her and I thought all sorts of worrysome thoughts; "Is she anexoric?"  "Does she have an eating disorder?"  "Does she think she looks good that way?"  So even I'm not immune to the thoughts of unhealthy weight loss.

I've never been anorexic and I've never once intentionally thrown up food I've eaten because it's an easy way out.  But people keep commenting and I try to handle the comments with grace, even if I'm frothing inside because that's the third time you've mentioned it buster, and saying it in a cajoling manner isn't making it any less insulting.

With the exercise, I'm able to eat lots more.  I like food.  I like talking about food.  I like going to restaurants.  Bit I don't like wondering what people are thinking about me behind my back just because I've been able to lose weight and get in shape.

Am I looking more thin though?  It's a distinct possibility.  I employed the internet last night to look up size comparisons of fat and muscle.  You've undoubtedly heard that muscle weighs more than fat.  A general comparison is that five pounds of fat is about equivalent to three grapefruits in size while five pounds of muscle is closer to three tangerines.  So I may well look more thin.  Oh, and as a bonus, muscle burns a little more in calories per day than the equivalent amount of fat.  How nifty is that?

The Big Boy Update:  Hair cut.  We went the longest ever without getting his hair cut to see how it would look.  It got curls and was cute and then it got to be a real mess.  He is sporting a new style, longer on the top, shorter in the back for the start of school tomorrow.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Holding the bottle?  Well, not all by herself.  But she's interested in it and can hold it.  Although, she likes when you hold it for her.  Unless she's done eating and then she's going to keep holding it away from her mouth.

Conversation Stalkers

Your friend is over visiting.  Maybe it's with a group of friends who have come over or at a general social event.  You notice your friend is sort of following you around.  You get your meal and sit down at a casual event and your friend brings their meal over and sits with you.  But you're engaged in a conversation with someone else at that point.  You finish your meal and move into cleaning up the dishes from dinner mode.  Your friend follows you into the kitchen to help.  Then it dawns on you.

Your friend has something he or she wants to tell you.  They've been following you around for a bit, feeling a little like a social attachment, because they've got something to discuss and they're trying to figure out a way to either get you to stop rambling on—something I can do for hours—or they're trying to get up the nerve to talk about the subject.

I don't conversation stalk people.  Mostly because I'll just bust into the house and without hesitation start to blurt out the extremely important, can't possibly wait until you finish what you're doing, earth shattering, mundane little story that wasn't that exciting but I just had to tell it, stat.

I'm not conversationally shy or chat-patient.  But I have friends who are.  Usually, when I realize the person has something to say, and they've been hanging out, patiently, for an opportunity to start a discussion, I feel like I should have been more sensitive or I should have picked up on it sooner.  Sometimes, I even know what the topic is about; maybe their father has been diagnosed with cancer and they have an update that's difficult to talk about.

Either way, I try to be a good friend and be a better listener than I would have otherwise been.  If I have an idea of the topic, I'll even ask a leading question in the hopes that by bringing it up, the person can more easily talk about it.  I try to be there for people.  It's something I need to keep working on—my listening skills.

The Big Boy Update:  "Daddy's Car."  Mommy loves her car.  Her car that she doesn't drive nearly as much as she used to because she gets to drive daddy's minivan to haul children around while he drives her BMW and shows houses to clients.  My son likes to open the garage door and look to see if daddy is home so he knows cars come and go and we come and go with them.  When we got in from lunch today, he walked over to my car, patted it and said, "Daddy's car."  Arrugh.  No.  No no no no no.  Mommy's car, not daddy's car.  Can you say, "mommy's car?"  <blank stare>   Sigh.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Happy Angry.  She has been polar opposites baby today.  The sinus infection/snot infestation has her frustrated because she can't breath well and that impedes eating and pacifiering.  Also, she has an external yeast infection that's presented as a diaper rash.  Antibiotics for the sinus infection make the yeast infection worse.  And the infection medication makes her have diarrhea.  She's very happy—because by nature she's just a happy baby—and then she ruins her pants and gets all stingy, or she can't eat because she's congested.  Or we're using the nasal aspirator on her which makes her madder than anything.  Other than the volcano fire anger spikes though, she seems to be managing well.

Fitness Update:  Manicure or Run?  Ooo, this one is an easy one.  But it shows how our priorities change over time.  Six months ago if you told me I had two hours to do what I wanted, manicure would have been on the top of my list of things to do for, "me."  But now, given the opportunity to run or go get my nails done—nails that desperately need grooming—then I pick run.  Hands down.  Easy decision.

Trust Your Mind

Unless you've lost it.  Although, if you've lost your mind you've got other issues beyond the scope of this blog.  So for now, let's presume you have most of your mental faculties.

We know our minds can deceive us.   But in so many ways, our minds do a phenomenal job of synthesizing the information around us, gathered in by our senses, to keep us safe, keep us fed, keep us warm and even keep us happy.

Or nervous system can sense not only temperatures, as we've been reminded of again and again lately when my son dubs anything, "hot!" that's not room temperature, but we can sense the states of matter as well.  Stick your hand in a liquid and you know it's some kind of fluid.  Of late though, I've been thinking a lot about my vision.

I've had lens replacement surgery in both eyes now.  It's not quick, immediate vision improvement like you get with LASIK surgery.  It's time and it's work.  And I'm not finished yet.  Or, rather, my vision isn't done improving yet.  There are two small additional procedures to get things just so.  And then there's the homework.

The homework consists of, at first, not working the lens.  Use reading glasses for all close-up vision needs.  After a few weeks when the lens is well in place, you then begin to work the muscles of your eyes to flex and focus and eventually become strengthened to pull all sorts of things into crisp, clear focus.

So in addition to all the other things you focus on every day, you practice word search puzzles.  They come in increasingly smaller font sizes as your vision improves.  And let me tell you, you start to get a sense of pride when you can move to the next smaller font size because your eyes are improving.  Eyes don't usually improve as you get older so it's pretty darned exciting if you ask me.

I've never done a lot of word search puzzles before.  And in this case, I'm not doing it for relaxing fun.  I'm finding time in the day, wedging time in a lot of cases, sometimes in the tub at night even, to search for words.  I don't particularly care about all the movies Sean Penn has been in, but there is a higher purpose.

I get torn because I want to be done with the puzzle.  I want to move on to other things, but I know the longer it takes to find all the cities in Ontario, the more exercise I've gotten for my eyes.  So I plod on.

I've discovered something remarkable, yet wholly believable.  My brain knows.  It knows where those words are, even if my eyes can't see it.  I think I saw, "lettuce" there... no, it's not there.  Hm, I've looked all over the board and it's not there.. oh wait, it's right there in the area I thought it was from the start.

That scenario has happened so many times now that I have started trusting my brain.  If it thought it saw, "Duchamp" then I believe it.  I just hone in on the area until I find out where it is.  Cheating?  I don't think so.  I have far too many word search puzzles to worry about implementing short cuts. 

The Big Boy Update:  Sleeping under the star.  His Mimi taught him the word, "star" a while back because she has a shirt she wears with stars on it.  He has a blanket his Nana and Grandpa gave him that has a huge star right in the middle.  Daddy figured out you can drape the blanket over the crib so he can look up at the star.  He likes sleeping under his star.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  The Mount Everest Syndrome.  She wants to climb it, just because it's there.  Your legs, the pillow mound, anything in the way.  Uncomfortable, hard, pokey?  Not a problem. 

Fitness Update:  Moths taste mothy.  Two runs now I've had a moth fly into my mouth while I was talking and huffing for air.  They're really not that tasty.  Maybe without the wings they'd be more palatable.  Maybe with a little salt?

Detached Friends

I wasn't sure what to write today, and then I read my sister-in-law's blog post about Friends.  Over the years friends come and friends go.  Some friends get closer while others drift apart for various reasons.  It's true that a friendship is what you make of it. But that's true of any relationship, be it parents, friends, children, partner, etc. 

In school there seemed to me to be two types of people; there were the popular kids that had all the friends you could ever imagine.  Then there were those who had a smaller set of friends, but those friends were quite close.  I always fit into the latter category.

I like making, "friends" but most of the time they're really more acquaintances than friends.  I've had some of my close friends for decades, and other great friends I've only know a short while. 

But on to the topic of detached friends.  It's common to have life changes or situation changes that cause friends who spent lots of time together at one point from spending the same amount of time together, or even keeping in touch at all.

I've worked with good friends, we did things regularly and then one of us changed jobs.  We just didn't have that constant interaction that kept us close.  And that's okay.  That's how life's friends flow sometimes.

The best kind of friend to me, is the friend that can pick back right where you left off when there's been a lapse in contact.  It's the kind of friend who doesn't blame you for not keeping closer contact because, hey, they didn't bother to contact you either.  You get on the phone or send an email and you're both happy that you're back in touch.  It's been a while so there's going to be lots to talk about.

I appreciate all my friends who are glad to be friends, even if we're not as close or keep in contact as much as we used to.  That's a characteristic of a true friend to me.

The Big Boy Update:  Practice counting.  He doesn't know his numbers, but we're working on it.  We count to things and he seems to sometimes know the next number.  And I would like to heavily emphasize the word, "sometimes" here because it's hard to know if he's parroting something or really knows a thing at this age.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Dog interactions.  She likes to try and pet the dog, feed the dog, withhold food from the dog and generally interact with the dog.  The dog says no, by snapping at her as a warning.  She does not try to bite her, just warn her to back off.  She's getting the message but since the dog is gentle about it, she still likes to try and play with her whenever she can get close to her.

Fitness Update:  Heart rate monitor statistics.  I love statistics.  I know that sometimes a workout is less-strenuous now than my app was estimating it.  It means I could work harder.  It turns out pushing a stroller alternating running and walking is more exercise than I thought.

Where Does The Time Go?

I sleep.  I eat.  I feed children.  I change diapers.  I sit in front of the potty and read books to my children.  I run.  I write this blog.  Once a month I spend some time putting up pictures of my children on their web sites.  Oh, laundry and dishes.  How could I forget those daily time-consuming things.  I tidy.  Good grief, do I tidy.  Shopping for food and other needs.  Ah yes, I wash myself.  That's important.  Being clean.  I wash the children too because they seem to get food all over themselves regularly.

And then the day is over.  And I look back and I'm not sure where the time went.  Notice in that list that I don't even have, "I played with the children."  Mostly because I encourage the children to play with each other and be independent.  And they are, and I do play with them, and that is a joy.

So this being a homemaker thing, which is something I never ran down or thought was anything other than a valued, important role or career, is a sight more time-consuming that I'd imagined.

There is no time for soap operas.  Then again, I'd rather watch Morgan Freeman narrate a documentary any day over a soap opera.  There is no time to hang out and eat bon bons.  The day is packed, and it's packed with little things that tend to stack up if you don't keep on top of them.

I love my job.  But it's busier than I would have predicted two years ago.

The Big Boy Update:  Still not feeling well.  He's had a fever on and off for the past several days.  Today, we took him to the doctor to make sure there wasn't anything of concern other than fighting off something his little baby boy body got exposed to.  It's not strep, and he doesn't appear to have an ear infection and his white blood cell count is in the normal range.  He has a runny nose, so it could be a summer cold.  He also was given the Measles, Mumps, Rubella vaccination a week ago and even though vaccinations are crippled versions, he could be working through his immunity.  So far, his sister shows no signs of what he's got.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Cruise mode.  While in the doctor's office waiting room, she stood up and began to push around a small table toy.  She got the hang of this assisted-walking very quickly and spent a lot of time (because you've got loads of time when waiting in waiting rooms, right?) pushing the table all around the room.  She'd never done this at home.  We didn't have the right item with the right amount of resistance for her to succeed.  When we got home, we brought down a walker toy to the basement for her to keep practicing on.

Compressed Posting

Too many topics running through my head.  Here are some compressed posts:

I have muscles.  I'm sure I had muscles when I did competitive gymnastics decades ago, but I was a child and I didn't care.  I've never had cool muscles as an adult.  I have a six pack, my forearms have clothes-wringing muscles and my calves are crazy firm even when at rest.  Exercise goes well with weigh loss—in fact, it's a strongly recommended companion to dieting—and I was hoping to get in better shape after two pregnancies, but I never thought I'd have really cool looking (and performing) muscles.

Why two is better than one.  If I like something and I know I'm going to continue to like it—meaning I'm sure it's not a phase—then I like to buy big.  Two bottles of conditioner, two boxes of coffee and two pair of sneakers.  The conditioner and the coffee I'm betting you can see.  But two pairs of shoes?  The exact same shoes?  Same color and everything?  And your current pair is less than a month old?  But I love these shoes.  I've done this before with shoes—loved a pair and thought I'd be able to re-buy them later to find the entire line discontinued when I went back to the store—so this time I went ahead and got a second pair.  They fit so nicely.  And they're orange and lilac.  You heard right, orange and lilac.  I love the colors and I'd bet far odds they're not going to be in stores that long with a color scheme like that.

Calorie Count Comfort:  For months, the way I knew I was on track for the day and not eating too much was to keep track of how many calories I'd eaten since the beginning of the day.  I learned there are far more calories in food than I'd thought.  I learned that a bite here and there, when factored in for a whole day, can ruin an otherwise good day of dieting.  And I learned the body doesn't need nearly the quantity of food I thought it did to maintain a specific weight.  So, weight loss target reached, but I didn't have confidence that I would stay there.  So I kept counting calories.  More calories each day as I didn't need to cut calories off from my base metabolic needs.  Even more calories to add back in from the increasing exercise I'd been doing.  But I didn't trust myself yet.  Finally I have a good feel for my intake and I can happily say that while I'm aware of what and how much I'm eating, I trust that I won't overeat.  Or if I do overeat, I'll make up for it the next day or with exercise.

The case of the phone without the case:  I've always had a case on my iPhone.  It's a costly piece of hardware and I don't want to drop it and break it.  But it didn't fit into my running arm band easily.  So I made a decision and took off the case. The outer glass on the iPhone is made from the same glass that helicopter windshields are made from—surely that's strong enough for whatever I might throw at it?   And so far, I haven't missed the case while enjoying a smaller phone by dimensions in my pocket all day.  The case is staying off.  We're all hoping we never see a, "I sure wish I'd kept that case on" post here in the future, right?

The case of the missing watch: Still going without a watch.  There are times every day I look at my watch, I mean my wrist, to find there is no time readout there.  But on the whole, I'm glad I took the leap to stop wearing a watch.  I feel less focused on smaller time increments without a watch.

Tired muscles aren't the same thing as sore muscles:  I was thinking about how tired I was this morning after running.  Yes, I'd been running for over an hour-and-a-half, and yes, I was quite tired.  But I wasn't sore.  I'm usually tired shortly after a run, but not usually sore later that day or the next day.  I'm hoping that means I'm not overdoing it.  I am not interested in over-exercising and injuring myself.

I can't remember how hard it was.  I've been trying to beat my Four on the 4th race time from the fourth of July.  I ran faster than I've ever run that day, as races encourage you better than any casual run will.  The new heart rate monitor is helping me keep up a better cardiovascular pace.  And I've gotten thirteen seconds from beating my best four mile time.  The good news is I'm not exhausted or nearly as tired as I was on the fourth and yet I'm still close to that race time.  So I have gotten in better shape since the run.  What strikes me though is I can't remember how hard or how tiring it is when I'm not running.  I always remember when I'm in the middle of a run and am panting and thinking what a fool I was for taking up this hobby, but once it's over, I can't recapture the feeling.  So I go out the next time and try again.  Hopefully I'll beat my record next time.  Forgetting how tiring running is is not unlike forgetting how hard labor is after you have that cute baby.  So much so that women keep having babies. 

The Big Boy Update:  "Buh bye eat."  We tell him he's going to go eat as we're taking him to the high chair or out to a meal.  He knows the word and even uses the ASL sign for "eat" when you ask him if he wants to go eat.  Yesterday morning as he got down from his high chair after breakfast, he turned around, waved at the chair and said, "Buh bye eat."

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  She really gets it—the "uh oh."  She says it all the time when she drops something like a book or a cracker.  She drops the item, looks where it dropped and then says, "uh oh" in the cutest little baby girl voice.  I'm trying to get a video of it.

Fitness Update:  Eight miles today with my neighbor.  She and I are debating when and how we're going to fit in our long runs (10+ miles) each week as we get closer to the race.  We're losing morning daylight—this morning it was dark when we started running the neighborhood so we couldn't enter the shaded park at first—and school starts in less than a week.  With the start of school, our children will have to get up earlier and we'll have more to do each morning.  But we'll find a way.

Lifelong Habits (or How Not Rinsing is Not Possible)

With the recently pulled tooth, the dentist suggested I get a tube of this strong fluoride toothpaste they sell at their office.  It has been shown to fortify teeth and is well worth the more expensive tube cost.  You only use it once per day.  But there's a catch.  You don't rinse.

That's right, you brush, expectorate (I spit, but the tube calls it expectorate) and then you just wander off and do the rest of your adult-type activities or just go to bed.

But my brain doesn't remember to not do something it's done for four decades.  You "expectorate" and then you rinse.  I've unknowingly filled the cup and have rinsed before I realize, "NO, you moron, you just washed out the good stuff that needed to hang out and make your teeth all shiny and new."

So it looks like I'm going to have bad teeth because I can't seem to break my rinsing habit.

The Big Boy Update:  Paw-pa.  Yes, he can say, Grandpa now!  When we're swinging out on his, "park" he and I practice words.  "Gramps" is still the krrscch sound with the point to his stomach action, but he can now say Grandpa.  It has variants, sometimes it's very distinctly, "papa" and sometimes it's "paw-pa" but he's saying it consistently.  I hear Grandpa is coming for a visit this weekend.  Maybe he'll show off when Grandpa arrives?

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  First word.  Yes, she has her first repeatable, used in the correct situation, word.  It is... "uh oh"  My husband had said he'd heard her say it several times but it was hard to believe that was her first word.  But so it is.  And in thinking about it, it makes total sense as her brother says it non-stop all day long. 

Fitness Update:  This morning, Uncle Jonathan ran for the first time with my neighbor, Eleanor and me.  This is my neighbor that I'm training for the "Half Marathon of Are You Out Of Your Mind?" race.  I had warned him that she and I were very chatty.  He said at the end of the run, after getting almost no chance to speak the whole time, that while he'd never seen Desperate Housewives, he had imagined it to be a lot like our runs, with us talking about all sorts of things non-stop that were probably things only women would care about. 

The Spelling Crippel

I am such a spelling crippel, er, cripple.  There are typing errors, and there are spelling errors, and lots of them get automatically corrected for me.  In fact, if I type, "teh" and it's not auto-corrected to, "the" for me I think, "harumph, this program needs to catch up with the times."

But it's at a price.  I've never been the best speller.  I never even pondered competing in a spelling bee.  I thought I'd get better over time by using the spell checker tools available.  But I'm not sure it's helped as much as I would have liked.

Surely, some words I now spell correctly that I mispelled for years, but other, chronic misspellings are automatically corrected out from under me so quickly that I don't notice or am in too much of a hurry to go back and investigate.

And I know I still spell poorly, because I've been known to use either Word or Google to figure out how to spell something if I'm writing in a non-corrective location like a thank you note. 

My son is learning language so quickly with new words every day and his understanding of spoken semantic content continues to amaze me given that he just turned twenty months yesterday.  I've had over four decades to learn English and be able to write it well.  You'd think I'd have gotten the hang of it by now.

The Big Boy Update:  Some kind of sick.  We have no idea what he has, but it's upsetting to him.  Upsetting all night with a strange, catch his breath and moan kind of cry that loops in a strange cycle.  After trying lots of things, putting him in bed with us and letting him watch the animated book, The Monster At The End of This Book, he calmed down, began breathing normally and then fell asleep.  In a short time, he'd wake back up, become agitated again and we'd repeat.  He's got a bit of a fever, but the Tylenol is helping that.  He did have a full cup of milk and asked for more and he's now watching television on the couch with the fluffiest, softest blanket in the house. 

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  I see you.  And just so you know, I'm not happy you left me.  In the middle of her brother's long night, I was upstairs getting the Tylenol and Benadryl.  She must have heard me and was looking through the slats of her crib.  When I left the room she suddenly burst into an incensed cry.

We Have It So Good In Pictures

I've been scanning in some pictures from my childhood.  Real pictures.  On real photo paper.  The picture-taking technology today is so astoundingly superior to what existed in my childhood, it's made me think about all the challenges we didn't even know we had back then in getting the perfect—or even just good—picture.

First, the medium was film.  Film was not immediate, as it required development, even if you have a dark room in your basement, as my father did.  You've got your cute little girl sitting in her new dress, looking pretty and you want her to smile for the camera.  You snap a photo.  Did you get it in focus?  Were her eyes closed when the shutter went off?  What about the lighting and did you even get the smile in the first place?  How many tries do you make to give relative assurance that you got at least one good shot for the family photo album?  Oh no, you didn't forget to wind the camera before that last shot, did you?  Please tell me you didn't just double expose the perfect shot?

Because you can't see what you just did.  You can't even see it that night.  Because first, you have to finish the roll of film.  Do you take pictures of things that don't matter to finish up the roll?  Or do you develop the roll when it's not full?  Or, do you stick the camera back in the closet and wait another six months to a year until you have another picture taking opportunity?

Once you take the film to get developed though, you have to decide now, before you've even seen if the pictures are worth a flip, if you want one or two copies.  Two copies are great because you can share a copy and you get a discount for printing twice in one run.  But if eighty percent of your pictures are worthless—and you're not sure what was on those first eighteen pictures because you can't remember when you took them—is it wasted money?

You decide and get the pictures.  And hey, you did get a picture or two of your child where he doesn't look like he's just eaten a rotten turnip.  Now you have to go back and get copies, or enlargements.  When that's done, you can finally share them with your family.  That is, after you package them up and mail them because there is no such thing as email.

We have it so good today.

The Big Boy Update:  He found a paint brush in the mechanical room.  We had told him before it was a brush.  He made the connection this time and started brushing his hair with the paint brush.  When he was done with his hair, he went and brushed his sister's hair.   He's also been falling into a deep sleep when he's really tired, which is great, because it makes the transition to the crib from wherever he was so much easier.  The first time this happened, he had his diaper and pants changed without waking up.  We thought it was an anomaly.  It's now happened more than once, including a full, wet outfit change while he snoozed through the entire experience.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  da da da da.    ma ma ma ma.  These are very easy syllables fora baby to begin with.  She says them in a slow chant a lot.  It seems—mostly I think because we want it to seem so—that she knows these syllables mean momma and daddy.  When you're changing her or she's looking at you and talking, you can say the same chant back.  She'll stop and look at you.  Then she'll say it back to you again.  We had a "da da da" conversation several times the other day.

Fitness Update:  What fun today.  I went running with the children's Aunt Rebecca and their cousin Olivia.  And daddy and the kids came along too.  Olivia is an accomplished competitive swimmer and now she has decided to try her hand at running.  We were in a casual run with a large group.  The run was from two to ten miles, with mile markers for turnarounds at two, four, six, eight and ten miles.  Olivia ran out ahead of us from the start.  We thought we'd see her soon enough but it wasn't until three miles later, at the six mile turnaround point that we finally caught up to her.  We each did some running and some walking overall, but we made six miles (even the children in the stroller.)  I think Olivia is going to join her mother and me in the four mile race we've signed up for in October.  Hopefully I can convince my husband to sign up too.  He's had a knee injury and repair some years ago, but he out-ran even his own expectations today.  Three cheers for my great family.  See you on race day!

The Preset

"The Preset" is a lot like being pre-prepared.  It's having something reset, in advance, proactively, so when you need it you can just grab it because it's already ready.

I like to have my son's sippy cup, or "joooice" as he calls it, ready at all times.  When it's meal time, you can grab it and sit him in his chair and he won't complain while you prepare his meal because he has juice.  It's always ready to go when it's time to go out for a meal.  Just put it in the go bag as you head past the refrigerator to the garage.

I like to have lots of things preset and ready for use.  Like the wipes container.  Never let the wipes container get to less than three wipes.  Because you're just asking for a seven wipe diaper change disaster with bonus combatant child if you do.  Always preset the wipes.

Always preset the cribs.  Toys in the crib from the morning "bridge before breakfast?"  Make sure you have the crib ready for nap, pacifier found and on the railing, so you can ease the baby into a nice nap and have that cherished hour of adult time without complications.

Preset:  proactively resetting something in advance

The Big Boy Update:  New words of the day: wait, clothes, chicken.  No, not all at once.  Nor at random.  It makes you want to do a double take when the proper word, in the proper usage comes out of his mouth when you least expect it.  He brought me a shirt and said, "clothes."  Phrases commonly said by momma and daddy right now are, "Did you just hear what he said?" or, "Did he just say what I think he said?"

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Bottomless girl.  We're fairly certain if you kept giving her food to shove in her mouth, she'd never stop eating.  She never seems to get tired of picking up a new item in front of her and trying to wedge it into her already full mouth.  Also, she apparently can drink out of a straw.  She was interested in my drink cup last night at dinner and I let her try the straw.  When I pulled it away she did the, "how dare you?" scream so we had several more rounds of straw drinking.

Fitness Update:  Heart rate monitor belt.  Okay, this is very exciting.  I've been debating getting one for a while because I didn't know if it would be useful to me and if so, if it would help me train.  I decided to get one for two reasons.  First, there is a belt that goes with the iPhone 4s that I have and is Bluetooth and integrates with the fitness tracking app I use, Endomondo.  There are lots of belts, but this one doesn't have an additional dongle to add to the phone.   Second, I met two ladies at the pool: one a seasoned marathon runner and the second one a runner in training.  They told me a heart rate monitor would help with pace because you take the focus off duration for distance and just maintain a higher heart rate for a certain period of time.  I ran with the belt for the first time today and I had much better times.  Not that I don't love running for two hours, but if I could accomplish the same thing in an hour-and-a-half, I could wedge in other things I need to get done in that extra half-hour.

Oh, and I registered for that half marathon last night.  This can only mean trouble...

And Don't Forget To Scratch...

What is the purpose of itching?  I mean think about it, have you ever been told by a doctor, "And be sure to do a lot of scratching.  In this situation, scratching helps."  No no no, scratching is bad.  Scratching will only make it worse.  Scratching will make it take longer to heal.  So what the heck does itching do for us anyway?

You know I don't look up the answers up on the internet before I write about them.  That would be too easy.  I have to muddle through it myself.

I suppose itching provides an important initial message such as, "get that biting bug off your arm quick, even though it's already bitten you and you're going to be itching for the next two days."  Or, "That thing you're sitting on is scratchy, maybe you should move to a more comfortable surface."

But I can't for the life of me figure out what the purpose of long-term itching is for.  All we do is damage the skin by scratching and trying to make it stop.   Darn histamine reactions.

The Big Boy Update: "I see some red ones, some green ones, and some high up on the shelf ones."  This had me laughing for a good while.  We have a bin of balls my son loves to pour out on the floor.  It's great fun for him for a short period of time and then it's less fun for an adult to clean them up.  Yesterday, after he had dumped them out about three times, my mother said the above statement as she finished cleaning them up and then put the bin on a high shelf.  She was so positive sounding about it he didn't even realize his toys had been taken away.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Head on your shoulder.  No matter how tired, she doesn't put her head on your shoulder as you take her to bed.  If she's sound asleep in the car and you're relocating her to the crib, she's still going to hold her chest and head up in perfect posture until you put her back down.  But in the last few weeks, every so often, including last night, she will put her head on your shoulder as you carry her off to bed.  Sorry, I have to say it... It's so sweet.

Organizing is Like Sweeping

How do you start an organization project?   It may be a bookshelf or a room or even a whole house.  I've done a lot of organizing in the past, and from those of you who have seen my house, you know that being organized borders on an obsession and is an integral part of my life.

I've been organizing things since I was old enough to organize a single drawer for my mother.  I'd be in her way, underfoot and a general bother and she'd come up with something for me to do that would occupy my time as well as be a help to her.  My mother was smart.

The best way to do any organization project is not unlike sweeping.  You don't sweep a little in one corner and then some in the middle of the room and then a bit over on the far edge; it would be and you'd end up going over the same areas more than once to get the job done well.

When you sweep, you start in the corner, and you sweep across the room towards a final, single destination.  Then you have all the dust and dirt in one place and you can deal with it at one time.

Organization is much the same.  In any good organization job, you'll find things that are in locations they shouldn't be.  They need to go somewhere.  The best place for them to go is away from the current spot you're organizing.  For instance, say you're organizing your clothes closet and you find picture frames and holiday gifts.  Do they make sense in your closet?  That depends.  If you have designated your closet as the location for frames and holiday gifts, then yes.  Otherwise, they need to go somewhere else.

That somewhere else can be a lot like the corner of the room you're sweeping towards.  The spare room or the attic or another closet you've marked to be organized later.  As you work your way through the room or house even, you may find more picture frames and holiday gifts.  Now they've been put in a location for currently homeless things.  At some point, you'll get to organizing the homeless location.  Or, you may find when you go through the guest room that the closet there is the perfect location for holiday gifts and consolidate everything in that one place.

And just like you sometimes sweep very well, making sure every corner and cranny has been expunged of all motes and granules of dust and dirt, sometimes you'll do a more thorough organization job.   But the process is much the same; clear out any items that shouldn't be in the location and then organize what's left.

The Big Boy Update:  The Boy Who Cried Potty.  That's what my husband has renamed him.  Because he loves to say, "potty" and "poop" and "pee."  He likes being on the potty. but he hates going there.  This morning he was in his crib saying, "potty" and my husband even brought the potty up from downstairs to give it a go.  But no go.  On other word and behavior fronts.  He said, we think, "diaper" twice last night.  But if pressed for what that thing is, he'll still say, "bah-poo."  And weeding!  His Nana taught him how to weed the other day in the yard.  She showed him how to pick weeds and then throw them into the rough areas.  Today at his, "park" he went over to some weeds in the grass, said, "weed," pulled them up and threw it into the bushes. 

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Trounced.  She is getting trounced on by her brother.  It's sometimes intentional by him and sometimes not.  Not surprisingly, she is not fond of it.  But she wants to be where he is and he wants to move around quickly.  She's also standing with one hand a lot and looking at bridging distances.  She's doing a little cruising, but not as much as I bet she'll be doing soon.

I Don't Miss Airports

For over a decade I was a business traveler.  I loved traveling across the nation and to other countries to get work done.  Some days I miss it.  I miss the intellectual stimulation and challenge that comes with having an adult-type job, interacting with adult-type people.  What I don't miss, is the adult-type stress levels and the adult-type workload.  Also on my list of things I don't miss... airports.

Stick me in any airport in the world and I can settle right in and prepare to wait.  Wait and wait and wait if necessary to get on that flight home after a challenging week of work.  I was an expert at all the ins and outs of checking in, getting upgrades, knowing when to board the plane and all the best spots to eat and go in the major airports.  I could check out and return a rental car without even thinking about it.

But it's just life cycles to nowhere.  Minutes, hours and days spent waiting in line and waiting for something to happen.  And doing all of that completely surrounded by strangers.  My two best friends were always with me, my ear plugs of solitude.  No one will bother you if they see bright pink earplugs in your ears because even though you can hear them, it's a message that you're spending time alone.

Planes, I miss.  I love a good plane ride.  I love falling to sleep before the plane takes off because when the engines turn on it acts as a soporific and I can't manage to stay awake until we're in the air.  But sorry airports, I don't miss you.  However, I do look forward to vising you from time to time, like on vacations.

The Big Boy Update:  Booster Seat and Krrrsch.  He sat in his first booster seat the other day.  He doesn't try to escape when there's food in front of  him (usually) so we gave it a try.  Success.  On the language front, he knows my father's name (Gramps) but as he can't say the "g" sound, so he makes this, "krrrsch" noise and points at his stomach.  This is a little thing my father has done to him since he was old enough to stand.  It sounds like a little buzzer going off in the corner of your mouth.  My son can make the same noise and point either to his stomach, or to Gramps and make it.   He's getting closer to pronouncing "g" though, I think.  At lunch today he started saying, "Nana Nana!"  we looked around and there was a lady sitting at a table with the back of her head towards him.  She had a hair cut and color just like his Nana.  Then he said—we think—"ampa." which is his other grandfather, "Grandpa" minus the G. 

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  She has been looking forward to nap time lately.  And by that I mean that she's taking earlier and longer naps than she was just a month ago because she's so mobile.  She can wear herself out more quickly than ever before. 

Fitness Update:  Early morning run with my neighbor and we talked about alternate exercising to get more in shape for the half marathon.  I've ordered a heart-rate monitor, which should help with my pace because it takes the focus away from distance and places it more on maintaining a specific heart rate for a period of time.  She suggested weight lifting for alternate days.  We found out neither of us have a set of weights to lift.  They're building our neighborhood clubhouse and pool as I write this, so next year we'll have a weight room.  This year, it may be exercising with rubber bands and soup cans.

Preparing for School

This morning I was getting lots of things ready for the start of the school year for my son.  In less than two weeks, he's off to preschool.  We're very excited.  He even knows the word, "school," has met his teacher and has been to two play dates at school.  If he knew how to look forward to something, I think this would be it.

So I've got a sharpie out and I'm labeling every single scrap of his clothing—including socks—and he and his sister are all underfoot around me.  He helped me unorganize several drawers, climbed up on multiple things he wasn't suppose to and read his father's book on the bed.  That's right, the one with no pictures.

He even found a new place to hide.  This was an interesting turn of events.  We were in the closet getting something and he and I heard the dog come out from some hung shirts and do that dog shake thing where you hear the cartlidge of their ears go fwap fwap fwap.  He realized she had been hidden under the shirts.  He had to investigate.

He crawled behind the shirts and waited for me to find him.  And he was fairly well hidden.  If he was a bit older and didn't want to be immediately found, we would have had one missing baby for as long as he was willing to stay put and quiet.

By the time Mimi and Gramps arrived from the mountains though, we'd gotten everything labeled and a big bag packed of items needed for the first day of school.

Next thing to do to prepare for the start of school...shift sleeping hours so we can have everyone up and fed so we can get to school on time.

The Big Boy Update:  Hoppy and Mickey.  He can hop and hop and hop now.  Little jumps of happiness.  He's also very excited whenever he sees Mickey or Minnie mouse and can say, "Mickey!"  And when the double whammy of The Mickey Mouse Clubhouse music and Mickey Mouse are combined, he's likely do demonstrate both of these new skills at the same time, hopping around the room saying, "Mickey!"

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Alone on the potty.  Initially, I couldn't let her sit on the potty without being right in front of her.  She was great at sitting, unless she took a notion that something in front or to the side of her was interesting.  Then she'd do a lunge-fall maneuver and you'd need to be there to catch her.  She can do the same move now, but catch herself nicely.  So I can get her clothes ready for the day and clean up in the room while she ponders a book on the potty. 

Family Photo Fun

For my son's school families book each student submits a family photo and a bio about themselves, in their own words, saying anything they like.  In the case of toddlers with limited vocabulary, the parents get to write something up. 

The bio I had done a few weeks ago.  I've been waiting on family pictures we had taken at one of the school's summer socials back in June.  Since the due date was getting close for our family picture submission, I did some chasing down with the staff at school about the pictures.  There were some holdups, and I finally got the two shots that were the best last night. 

Everyone looks great, except for my son, who looks surly in one picture and is looking away in the other.  Time for plan B.

My in-laws came to town this morning.  After lunch, when the children were in a full and happy mood, we got some shots out on the new play set.  My mother-in-law can make any baby smile and laugh because she's willing to do whatever it takes, no matter how silly it might make her look, to get that big grin appear. 

She got them looking at the camera and smiling, my father-in-law got the camera taking shot after shot and we now have a family photo.  How do people with big families do it?  Getting two babies to sit still, look at the camera and smile at the same time takes four adults and some luck.

The Big Boy Update:  Potty update (you know you want to know.)  Lots of time on the potty.  Lots of books read.  Lots of training pants wet or messy.  Not one single production in the potty yet. 


The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  She is just so happy.  She smiles all the time.  Smiles at everyone, strangers, other babies, pieces of fluff on the floor and Mickey Mouse (of course.)

Fitness Update:  11.1 miles this morning and I'm only two miles away from a half marathon distance.  But...so...tiring.  Maybe I just wasn't ready to be running this morning.  I gave myself a good rest from the eight mile run three days ago, so I should have been fine.  I didn't get as much sleep as usual, so that could have been a contributing factor.  I also ran a more challenging route than the ten mile run.  Today, I was just tired.  We're doing a half marathon early November, and as of today, I'm glad I have time to train.  I need to be able to make the distance, and make it easily; because if the last race is any indication, when you race you push yourself harder and faster.  So there's work to be done.  But it's good to have a mission and a goal.  Also, I hit my first 1000 calorie workout.  Two hours three minutes of non-stop running.  If you tell the March 2012 version of me about it, I guarantee you I wouldn't believe you.

Big Rocks, Little Rocks, Too Many Rocks

We have the baby seat that goes on the back of the bike now and there's a second baby seat on the way so my husband and I can both bike with a baby, "on board."  Today I thought I'd bike around the park with my daughter to see how it went.

About this park, it's gravel trails.  They are nice gravel trails, but gravel is basically rocks of different sizes, hopefully packed down in a nice trail formation.  I wanted to try the full circle which is about eight miles, but I knew there were some spots that were hilly and steep in parts both up and down and also windy with sharp curves.  Dare I do it with a little girl on the back?

So I dared.  Or I was dumb.  You be the judge.  To jump to the end, we're both back without a scratch, but it was a challenge.  I knew I wasn't in a hurry, and I knew bikes had brakes, so I had that going for me on the downhill parts.  But I had never done the full route on the bike either, I'd always done it running.

In parts, I was going so slowly downhill that I was working harder to keep the bike balanced in my upper torso and arms than I realized would be necessary.  At one point the chain hung on a steep hill just after a sharp curve and the chain dropped off (we're guessing this was user error) so I had greasy hands and a push uphill before I could get the top-heavy, baby-laden bike back in motion.

But that was all good fun.  The only part that really worried me was the rock surface.  I felt a little like I dealing with the Rocks of Red Riding Hood.  If the rocks were too big, the wheels would bounce about on them, which is disconcerting when you have a little one just behind you.  If the rocks were so small as to be gritty, the bike would slide or sink into them, which is not a comforting surface to be riding on.   I spent a lot of the ride looking for rocks just the right size; not too big, not too small as I rode down the paths.

We got back just as my daughter woke up from her nap, decided she had had enough of this helmet and hot weather.  Nice timing.

The Big Boy Update:  Today was a school play date for families with either children rising to a new class or joining the school for the first time.  My son saw his teacher and her  new assistant and had the best time playing with other children, watering the plants and drinking from the water canister.  School starts in two weeks.  I think he's going to love it.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Long bike ride.  She likes the seat.  She likes the helmet.  But the helmet doesn't let her look straight up because of the back of the seat being in the way of the helmet's rear "flair" thing.  So she looked down at the road a lot.  Then fell asleep.  She slept through the most rumbly, rocky ride I think I've ever put her through.  Isn't it grand to be a baby?

Fitness Update:  Runner envy.  I do love my bike.  And I loved riding my daughter around with me.  I realized as I biked past runner after runner, that I was jealous because I'd rather be running.  Wait, what?  I was jealous because I wanted to be running instead of doing some other exercising in nienty degree weather?  Who kidnapped me and swapped me for someone who not only likes to exercise, but looks forward to it?