The Butterfly, The Unicycle and the Epi Pen

It was a strange day in the park.  I was off for a long run as we're training up for the marathon.  I had planned to run fifteen or sixteen miles and ended up making sixteen.  GPS coupled with a smart phone app is such an amazing thing.  I can run anywhere I want and still know when I need to head back in order to get home at my target distance.  So amazing.

At about two miles out I stopped to take a picture because there was a stunning butterfly lying in the middle of the trail.  It's hard to tell from the picture, but it was about three inches across.  I don't know if it was alive, most likely not, but I didn't want to disturb it so I took a picture and moved on.

About a mile later I passed a cyclist.  There are bicyclists all over the park and today I think I saw more than I'd ever seen before, but this lady was an unusual sight because she was riding a unicycle.  I shouted out that she was missing a wheel, we laughed as we passed.

Shortly after that I passed a man running the opposite way who was holding an EpiPen in his hand as he ran.  I thought he must be very dedicated to both nature and running to be willing to risk getting stung and having to inject himself out in the middle of the woods.

Shortly after that I understood why he had his pen on him, the humid weather had brought out many stinging and biting large insects.  I got bitten or stung at least twice and they seemed to be landing on me for the next several miles until I got out of the low parts of the park.

I made it to eight miles and turned around.  At about eleven miles, I saw the unicyclist again and she remembered me.  I don't know how long she had been cycling for, but it had to be close to two hours up and down hills on gravel.  My level of impressed went up by three notches, no wait, four.  What a fun (and I would guess difficult) hobby/exercise/both?

As I got to the last water station (my sixth), a lady asked me about the faucet and how it worked.  She was filling up her water bottle because there were two men she had passed ahead that were having a very difficult time and she gave them all her water.  Fortunately, they were close to where we were, an area not only with water, but a park exit too.

I didn't tell her that I, too, had been having a difficult time.  Today wasn't my longest run, but it was definitely the most challenging.  I was prepared, I stopped and drank frequently and a lot.  I had gu-packets and ate them all.  And yet I was fatigued, got cramps in my calves at one point and near the end ran slower and slower.   When I got home I was more tired than I am after long runs and I needed to sit for a bit before I could manage to eat anything.

It was the heat and the humidity.  I lost four pounds during the run.  I normally lose two pounds, and those runs I don't drink nearly as much.  Even so, it was a great day and a nice, as well as interesting, run.

The Big Boy Update:  All those things are mine.  He seriously thinks all things should be his.  He's wearing me out with the work we have to do to correct the situation and adjust his attitude.  Today, his sitter, who is also his teacher, told me that it will take about six months to work through this phase of defiance, but it will subside eventually if we keep with it. 

The Tiny Girl Chronicles: "I need a second one."  When I put her to bed and gave her her pacifier, she asked for a second one.  At not even twenty months, those words convey several concepts, not to mention it was a five word sentence.  She got her second pacifier.  As I'm writing this, I hope she's asleep and not bothering her brother and daddy.

Fitness Update:  Sixteen miles, roughest run yet, and I've run farther before.  The heat and humidity make me look forward to to running a marathon in cool weather in November after today.  I ran alone because my neighbor broke her toe on vacation this past week.  She is on a six to eight week hiatus from running.  She was upset, but fortunately we have time to train for the marathon even with her injury.

Someone Once Said:  No matter where or what, there are makers, takers, and fakers.

The State Textbook Warehouse

Have you ever noticed how "right down the road" can change entirely as you get older?  When I was old enough to ride my bike around the neighborhood, I was allowed to go to my friend's house.  He lived "right down the road" at about six houses away. 

Later, I could go, "right down the road" neighborhoods over to visit friends because I was older and was given more responsibility.  That distance though, would have felt like miles and miles away to the little child that used to ride the Big Wheel down to her friend's house.

I don't remember how old I was, but one year when school was starting my mother took me to the State Textbook Warehouse so I could get my very own copies of the textbooks I'd be using in class that year.  That might not sound exciting, but it was for me.  First of all, you got assigned a textbook normally.  You were expected to treat this textbook with care, because it was going to be used for many more years and you had to be a good steward and treat it with kindness.   Also, no writing in it.  You could never, ever write in those textbooks.

But if you had your very own personal copy of the textbooks, you could do whatever you liked with them.  You could tear out pages if you needed a sheet for a paper airplane, say.   When the school year started, I was so excited to have my own books.  I was going to take all sorts of notes in those books and do whatever I liked with them because, no one could tell me I couldn't.  I had plans. 

I don't think I ever did anything with those books though.  I took notes in the normal way and cursed the heaviness of the books in my backpack.  I don't know why my mother took me to get books that year either; we didn't go other years, just that one.  Did that State Textbook Warehouse move or close?

No, it did not.  And it's just, "right down the road" from where I live today.  I ran by it and was waiting in front of it for some time and that's when I noticed the heading over the entrance and vaguely remembered that we were in the same area we had gone when I was a child and that the building looked mostly like I remembered it.  But back then, that building wasn't even close to, "right down the road" even though it was less than three miles from home. 

The Big Boy Update:  We had another mother-son battle today.  I don't know who the eventual victor was, but no nap was had.  He is pushing everything, wanting to be in control and independent at the same time.  And no, it is not all right to squeeze your sister's leg because you want to make her cry and you may not scream all you like and I am going to try and not lose my temper at you again.  Okay, I failed at that last part.   Tomorrow, I will try again.  I'm sure he will too.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Independent in the water.  We were at the "beach" today at the lake my in-laws live on.  My daughter was not one bit afraid of the water.  She would wander in and out without any concern that she could control herself.  She didn't swim, but she would sit down and lie back and get sand everywhere.  EVERYWHERE.  I am not sure I like the beach.  She loved it though.

Someone Once Said:  Never help a child with a task at which he feels he can succeed.

It's Not The Same Phone (Or the Final Insult)

I killed my phone.  It slid from the counter top into the sink and that six inches caused the glass to crack down the front.  The phone's glass was shardy and sharp but it was still working.  Although, it definitely needed help.

That six inch fall wasn't the killing blow, it was the last little breeze that pushed the phone over the cliff to it's demise.  And that's because I've dropped it many times.  The first was back in October at Disney in Florida and the rest, after that, just sort of blend together in my mind.  I think there are several dents in our hardwoods that will attest to that.  My hands don't have all the feeling in them they used to and that combined with my general clumsiness and the phone was in for it.

The corners had taken some bruising and denting and one section of the glass had already snapped, but it was functioning and it may have continued to work for a good long time until the fall into the sink.  Once the glass was completely compromised, it was a danger to itself and to anyone brave enough to hold it and attempt to run your finger over it, thus facing possible glass splinters or slicing.

I went downstairs, plugged it in and did a complete backup.  While this was happening, I made an appointment with the Genius Bar and then headed off to get it "fixed".  I knew the glass could be replaced, but there was that top button that insisted on only working part of the time and the dented corners that may have made glass replacement an unsuccessful endeavor; but I had Apple Care Plus, so I knew it would get addressed in some fashion.

At the store the, "Genius Guy" decided that yes, I had beat the phone up sufficiently enough that a new phone was merited.  He was fast.  He got the new phone, I selected the "Delete Absolutely Everything" followed by the "Yes, I'm Serious" confirmation and the old phone was blanked out.

He swapped SIM cards and I left the store, calling my husband to say I'd be back in time to get the children.  I got home, plugged in the new phone and confirmed that I wanted to restore it from the backup I'd made earlier.

It's a new phone.  It's a completely new phone.  But my mind can't accept it because it looks exactly like the old phone in all the ways I interact with it.  All the apps and settings are the same because that restore made the new phone a complete copy of the old phone.

I wrote a blog post a while back about how long something new stays "new" to you.  This brand new phone became instantly "old" because it seemed and behaved exactly like my old phone.  I've even looked at it and said to myself, "Look at this shiny new phone.  Now, respect this one, please."  Even so, it seems worn in and comfortable in my pocket.

The Big Boy Update:  "I'm going to work on the road.  For the cars."  My son told me this as we drove out of the driveway this morning.  It appears he has decided on his first career choice.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Darn those bows.  We've had a backtracking in the whole bow situation.  She likes to take them out...violently.  And that means she pulls hair with the bow or elastic band or whatever hair protection device.  So for now, I spend time training her hair to move out of her eyes to the side.  That seems to keep most of her hair on her head at least.

Fitness Update:  I'm going to go swimming after I finish this post.  I just gave blood and I'm not sure how well I'll swim.  One person suggested that I don't exercise vigorously, while the other person said to do whatever my body was accustomed to doing.  I suppose I'll see how it goes.  Worse case, I'll sit out by the pool and enjoy the sun.

Someone Once Said:  Growth comes from activity, not from intellectual understanding.

So and So's Such and Such

We have a lot of people's things around.  They don't know we have their things.  They most likely don't care that we have them.  I hope they're not upset that we're using them though; because we're using them for a very nefarious reason indeed: toddler bribery.

For instance, yesterday morning I gave my children some cereal.  It wasn't a cereal they'd had before, so I told them about how it was, "Uncle Bob's favorite cereal."  My son really likes his Uncle Bob and just knowing that it was Uncle Bob's Raisin Bran may well have made him dive in and try it.  Once he and his sister started eating it, they discovered the sweetened raisins in the mix and they were hooked.

We have Mimi's tissues for when their noses are runny and they don't want to blow.  There is Papa's fruit bowl in the morning (which he is a master of preparing).  There is Bryna's coconut oil that helps my son's skin when he's itchy and of course we have daddy's spoon for when they're just having too hard a time getting the food into their mouths with their little kids spoons.

It's a nice way to keep family and friends close and present in our children's minds.  Not to mention they're always more interested or excited about doing something if someone they like does the same thing.

The Big Boy Update:  "I'm looking for the poop."  My mother was over the other day and she heard him say this and she looked at me and said, "I think I know what he's doing."  It turns out earlier that day my mother had seen dog poop in the back yard.  She'd gotten a leaf and went to pick it up so she could throw it down the hill.  My mother explained this to my son as she was doing it.  So, later that day we see him below the deck, leaf in hand, looking for some poop so he could throw it down the hill.  Naturally. 

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Cheese.  Did I ever mention that we call my daughter "Cheese"?  It seems like the craziest thing when you're out in public and you turn to your husband and ask him, "Where did Cheese go?"  And yet, that's one of her main nicknames.  When my son was smaller he couldn't say her name.  What came out sounded like "cheese" and it was funny so we started calling her that--and it stuck. 

Fitness Update:  Twelve miles biking the children to school this morning.  Well, wait, only six to school and then six home.  Right before we arrived at school I made a bone-headed operator error and fell over.  The child seats our children are in on the back of our bikes are a hard plastic that wraps around the sides and is so wonderfully protective.  I caught the bike for the most part and got away with just a scraped knee.  A man hopped out of his car at the stoplight to make sure we were okay.  My daughter was startled at the sudden change in motion but was otherwise completely fine.

Someone Once Said:  He who is served is limited in his independence.

Dark Tanning Oil

I was looking in the drawer we keep the sunscreen in yesterday and I found some relics.  You know how sometimes things live longer than you expect them to in your house because they aren't finished, broken, empty or used up, so you keep them and move them around and somehow they don't ever seem to get discarded?

I was looking for another bottle of sunscreen because we had finished up the current one spraying my children before school.  We must have combined all of my sunscreen with my husbands when we either moved in together or moved to our current house.  There were several bottles of sunscreen that were clearly old.  For instance, how long has it been since you've seen a bottle of mere "8 SPF"?   These days the higher the number, the more likely customers are to buy it.  If they sold "SPF Sheet of Lead" sunscreen, I am confident it would do very well.

So not only did I find old, outdated, low-power, wimpy sunscreen; I also found "Dark Tanning Oil".  Yes, this is stuff you put on your body to specifically encourage the sun to blacken your skin with it's burning, tanning rays.  This was way before those artificial bronzer add-ins existed.  You had to spend time in the sun getting scorched and any way you could maximize your "time to tan" experience was a good thing.  Here's the bottle:

It smells wonderful.  It smells like my college days or maybe high school days when the threat of skin cancer was not such a hot and scary topic.  This bottle of tanning oil may well be just that old.

After I took this picture I put the bottle back in the sunscreen drawer.  Because it wasn't empty, you know?  Because it smelled like pina coladas.  And anyway, who knows when I might want to lube myself up and get crispy in the hot sun, right?


The Big Boy Update:  Twice lately he's needed to mow the lawn.  He's seen our neighbor across the street mowing his yard and he told me, "I need my mower."  He was confused the first time that the street didn't need mowing.  The second time, yesterday, we even put bubbles in the mower and he helped our neighbor mow his grass while distributing bubbles all over his yard.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  The Bee Bee.  She is very fond of the bee bee.  She likes to hold the bee bee and carry the bee bee around.  She doesn't pronounce, "baby" very well yet.

Fitness Update:  I went to the fitness room late last night with Uncle Jonathan.  That was fun.  Then, this morning I swam laps in our newly opened neighborhood pool.  It was very tiring for the first ten minutes, and then my body just got into the motion and I swam laps for an hour.

Someone Once Said:  It is the child who makes the man, and no man exists who was not made by the child he once was.

Alcohol

I've gone through phases in my life where I've liked alcohol.  Sometimes I think I might have liked alcohol a little too much.  On two separate occasions I decided to stop drinking alcohol for an entire year.  Then there were the pregnancies, in which drinking alcohol is not a good thing, so there were those years as well.

But all in all, intentional as well as situational alcohol abstinence, there are still many years and periods in which I drank some or a lot.  There were the college years when I first was old enough to buy my own alcohol.  College is all about excess in so many ways.

Then there was corporate drinking.  No, no, not at work, but the social aspect of going to get drinks after work or parties on the weekend with your friends from the office.  There was the locational drinks, such as the beach for daiquiris or margaritas and the cookout where beer was king.

As I got older I noticed that the more alcohol I consumed, the tighter my clothes seemed to fit.  It turns out there are lots of calories in alcohol--something I didn't have to worry about when I was younger.

I find myself again at one of those points in my life where I'm considering stopping drinking for a period of time.  Why?  Because anyone who consumes an addictive substance should be able to stop, completely, without issue, at any time.  If you can't, you have a problem.

Do I think I have a problem?  No, I don't.  I don't drink that much.  But when I find myself thinking, "boy, a beer sure would be good about now" I always question my motives.   Addiction can be about anything.  I stopped eating candy for an entire month once.  I didn't realize how much I ate and how much I craved sugar until I stopped completely.  But, by the end of the month, I didn't even care about candy any more.

The same is true for alcohol.  Stop now and a few months from now you'll notice you don't even think about it.

The Big Boy Update:  Hungry and combative.  When he is hungry and sleepy he is a terror sometimes.  He has a hard time calming down to eat.  It's getting worse as he doesn't understand what's happening to him at this age.  I feel like I'm a mean parent, telling him he MUST eat something before he goes to sleep and then forcing him to stay at the table because later, this problem will only be compounded.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Curling hair.  Her hair has been mostly straight.  But, as it's grown out some it's starting to get curls.  It's taking a long time to get long, but I would like to see her cute little blonde hair longer now, while she's a cute little tiny girl.

Someone Once Said:  One of the sanest, surest, and most generous joys of life comes from being happy over the good fortune of others.

Nothing to Complain About

That was going to be the name of this blog initially.  I felt like having a title that indicated no complaining was welcome or expected here would help keep me in line in my mind.  So far, it's gone fairly well.  Yesterday, not so much though.

Before I even wrote my first post, I thought about my potential readers.  I fretted about them.  Honestly, I'd rather just be writing to myself here.  The thought that someone actually reads what I write is cringeworthy most days because I don't think I'm interesting or well-written.  But people do read this and they keep coming back for more blog-punishment.  I suppose there's no accounting for taste.

Still, I didn't want to use this blog as a vehicle to complain about my life or my friends or my shin splints or anything really.  I couldn't imagine why someone would want to read my blog if all I did was complain. 

Since creating this blog I have written several posts that were nothing more than complaining posts.  I was angry or I was upset or I just needed to get something out.  In all cases but one, I deleted the posts after I had written them.  Yesterday's I'm going to let stand.  Not because the post was that important.  It was a little thing and I just happened to be writing a blog post right after it happened.

I'm going to let it stand as a reminder to myself that I'm not here to complain.   Maybe it'll make me think before posting something negative in the future.

The Big Boy Update: Selfish.  I know we're all born selfish.  But we've been working on this with my son for a while now and it only seems to be more of a challenge some days.  He understands we mean it when we ask him to give a toy back or share, but he doesn't have that level of consideration of his own yet.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Here, you have it.  She will give her brother something if he complains loudly enough about it.  She hasn't entered into the "mine mine mine" age yet.  That, or as the second child, she has a different perspective.

Fitness Update:  3.75 miles today.  Not much but in the plan to train for a marathon, there are a lot of short run days, so I suppose that's okay.

Someone Once Said:  Anyone who considers protocol unimportant has never dealt with a cat.

I Sensed a Scolding

I asked my husband a question. He told me he didn't know. I gave him a funny look and asked him the same question with more details and clarity. He said he wasn't sure.   I gave him my most incredulous look and said, "you do this thing I'm asking you about all the time, I'm asking you what you do when you do it". He insisted he had no idea. 

He knew what he did. He didn't want to tell me. Up being pressed further, he said "I sensed a scolding". Apparently in that case, you just lie. Is this a relationship communication tactic that's suppose to strengthen your communication going forward?  

I've seen this with my mother too. I don't understand how lying to the person for the single, sole purpose of avoiding conflict accomplishes anything; especially when the person you're lying to knows, and you know, that its a straight-up dodge tactic.

I find it offensive. Am I that terrible a person to deal with that obvious avoidance tactic lies are the best route to deal with me?

The Bog Boy Update:  Physically aggressive.  At a birthday party today he spent time with an older boy in the pool. This older boy was very aggressive physically. My son loved it. He loved the pushing and shoving. He loved being dunked under water so much that he threw up after swallowing too much water. I hope he doesn't turn out that aggressive when he's older. 

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  slip and slide. Our neighbors got a slip and slide today and we were invited over to play in it. My daughter thought it was great fun. 

It's the Small Stuff That Counts With Friends

I had a friend call me yesterday and ask if she could stop by.  It was right about dinner time and she was worried she would be interrupting our meal, but she needed a "friend moment" as she called it.  

Something had upset her.  It wasn't trivial but it wasn't serious either.  It was just one of those things right then, at that moment, given the situation, was more than she was able to handle well.  And she needed to talk about it or complain or hide or just get away from everything for a few minutes and then she would be ready to go back and deal with her life like she always does.

I met her in the driveway with a margarita and we hugged and went inside and just sat and she explained exactly the situation that led up to her being so frustrated.  And I understood why she was feeling so upset;  I think I would have been just as upset and angry if the same thing had happened to me.

But was it major?  No.  It was just the crap of the day and that particular day the crap was too deep for her to wade in without someone to help with a life buoy.  That's what friends are for, right?  To be there not only for the major things in life, but for any kind of support, no matter how little, say like a conversation and a margarita, just when you need it.

The Big Boy Update:  My son, "I gotta go poop!"  Daddy, "then go quickly, run!"  My son runs off to the bathroom and says, "I made it."  Yes, he did make it.  He made it right into the bathroom and also in his pants.   But he knew it was coming and he tried to get there.  I count that as a victory.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  The pretty little dress.  Friends of my mother bought a beautiful, diaphanous dress that must be at least forty years old as a gift for my daughter.  We've been trying to get a picture of her in it so that we can send it to my mother's friend and show her how beautiful it looks on.  But, it's so delicate we put it on my daughter and take it off right after the pictures have been snapped. This on and off clothes procedure confuses my child and she doesn't understand why we need her to sit and smile so our efforts have largely been unsuccessful.  But today, I think we got the shot.  I hope we did. 

Fitness Update:  13.1 miles today (that's a half marathon, right?) for our training towards the marathon in November.  We were targeting twelve miles but then we took the scenic route on more than one occasion and ended up running long.

Someone Once Said: When in danger or in doubt, run in circles scream and shout.

Does Anyone Need More Legos?

If you've ever played with Legos, you know they're virtually indestructible.  In my entire Lego-construction career from childhood until yesterday as I played with my children's toddler-sized blocks, I don't remember ever destroying a single block.  I don't remember seeing ruined blocks at friends houses.  If man were to suddenly cease to exist from the planet, would Lego blocks be the last remaining evidence of our existence?

Which got me thinking, why do we need more Legos?  This is mostly because we have several families that have offered to give us their Legos including the table and carrying cases or containers or anything else because when something is this sturdy, high-quality as well as fun, you don't generally sell it or throw it away.

And yet the Lego business seems to be thriving.  There is even a Lego store in the shopping center down the road.

The Big Boy Update:  iPad Bad.  He rarely gets to use the iPad.  I have it hidden and it comes out once about every two weeks.  He recently found where I was hiding it, so I now have a new, less-reachable location for it.  Why is the iPad bad?  It's bad because he will never leave it once he has it.  It is a far better baby sitter than television.  So we save it for special occasions or times of great need.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Treating the dog.  Yesterday, I showed her how to give the dog a treat by holding her hand open and letting the dog take it gently out of her palm.  She would have kept feeding her for hours, one piece at a time, she was so happy about the whole process.

Fitness Update:  It was calf day at the gym.  We didn't tell him we have a twelve mile run planned for tomorrow.  I hope our little legs can make it. 

Someone Once Said:  The unexamined life is not worth living

Grabbing the Wheel

There's a road I don't drive down as much as I used to because where I live and the places I frequent are in different areas of the city than in years past.  Yesterday, I was going downtown and as I drove down a particular road, I was struck by a memory of when I was fifteen.

It was the very day I had gone to the DMV and gotten my drivers permit.  That meant I could drive if a parent was there in the car with me, making sure I was being responsible.  I'd been through drivers education.  I'd seen the videos designed to shock you into being a safe driver.  I'd done the driving portion of my education with a teacher who was very nice and utterly boring and unremarkable at the same time.  It was time to get my permit.

My sixteenth birthday would be in February and it was now December, scant weeks away from when I'd qualify for an actual drivers license, but that was okay, I didn't expect to be driving that much with my parents and it was enough time to get the hang of things.

I have no recollection of getting the permit at all.  I don't even have any memory of it being my father that was there with me, but I do remember what happened on that road I was talking about at the beginning of this post and what he did, so I know it must have been him that was with me.

I hope you're not waiting for something dramatic, because it was really nothing--but the kind of nothing you don't forget, no matter how small it was.

Back to the road.  It's mildly curvy and then relatively straight up until this one little part that has both a hill and a tight s-curve at the same time.  I didn't know enough from experience that I should slow down to take the curve (I knew the road well as a passenger) and when I got into the first turn--did I mention this was during rush hour traffic--I didn't realize I would have to aggressively correct my steering due to my speed.  In short, I started fading into the next lane over, into traffic.

My father never said a word, he just grabbed hold of the wheel and calmly pulled the car back into it's lane.  Nor did he even scold me afterwards (that I can remember).   The experience on that very first day of driving was powerful though.  It made me think on many occasions that I should be more careful and that a car was a powerful thing that needed to be respected.  Thanks, dad.

The Big Boy Update:  "That truck is broke."  He has these four trucks from Uncle Dale and Cousin Olivia.  His favorite, by far, is the tow truck which has that all important hook.  His second favorite is Olivia's dump truck because he can hook the tow truck hook on the axle of the dump truck.  This afternoon in the back yard I watched him time and again move the dump truck over to a new part of the yard, say in the bushes, and then drive the tow truck over to rescue it.  When I stuck my head out to ask him how he was doing, he pointed to the newly repositioned dump truck and said, "that truck is broke."

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  She came over to gramps this evening while he was resting on the couch and told him, "I potty."  She did this twice, and he didn't quite know what she meant.  Did she want help getting there?  Was it an informational statement as to what had already happened in her pants?  If you guessed the latter, you would be correct.

Fitness Update:  Busy day so I went over to the fitness room and did the leg exercises last.  The quarter mile jog home felt like I was running in syrup my legs were so rubbery.

Someone Once Said:  A society that gets rid of all its troublemakers goes downhill.

The Stress Scream

I'm annoyed.  I'm behind on things and I hate being behind on things and I lost my temper because my daughter is feeling crummy with some sort of runny nose summery cold sort of thing and I yelled at the top of my lungs to relieve some stress.  I had a friend in high school that called this particular type of scream a "stress scream".

My friend was a full believer in getting out your stress in a non-violent, non-harmful way.  Aside from a bit of ringing in the ears, how much can a scream hurt anyone?  Heck, my children scream all the time and the only thing it does to me is make me want to scream for them to be quieter.

So I'm frustrated.  I have lots of things to do and I have very little time before I have to leave for another commitment tonight that I could have passed on, only I didn't know I'd be this pressed for time when I confirmed this social event last week.  Since then, things have piled up.

And it's all about priorities, really.  I know that.  I don't like staying up late because I want to get up early and exercise.  I could stay up late and watch movies every night, but that's not as important as running or getting to the gym.  Also, it's not as pressing as getting my agenda in place and materials printed out and prepared for the long meeting I'm hosting at the house tomorrow morning.   And yet, I'm committed to a social event that I would feel quite badly backing out of.  So, I'm frantically trying to get everything done so I can go.  But children and life keep intruding on my plans.

About this meeting I'm hosting tomorrow morning.  It is causing me some stress.  This group has been doing a lot of talking at our prior meetings, but tomorrow we need to make some definitive decisions, pick some deadlines, and more to the point, assign some work to be done.  I like to see things get done.  I don't mind talking, hell, I do more than most people.  But I dislike talking when actual work needs to get accomplished and that's where I feel like we're going to end up if we don't start taking action soon.

So, the pressure is on.  I requested a meeting with our head of school this morning and she is in agreement with me on the whole getting down to getting things done thing.  She will also be in at the meeting tomorrow and together I think she and I will have the power to prevent things from going in circles.  Or so I hope.

But back to that stress scream.  I love my children: they are absolutely darling, but they can also be infuriating.  I dislike fighting with my daughter to get a small amount of ibuprofen in her so she will feel better.  I don't like sticky medicine spit on me and all over her hair.  I don't like having to hold her down and coerce her to take medicine.  And I don't like doing that when I need to be working on an agenda so I can leave to go do something social.  I'm already feeling guilty leaving daddy at home to take care of the children while I go have, "fun".

So I screamed and I felt immediately better and worse at the same time.  I wasn't screaming *at* the children.  I didn't yell at her to be a better baby.   I just yelled a non-verbal yell, stamped my foot and exclaimed I was frustrated and exactly why.  But regardless, I feel bad when I lose my temper even so. 

Is it ideal?  No, I should be the super perfect mom that never gets upset or angry and always does the right thing and knows just what to say and never gets stressed out.  But I'm not that fictional person. 

The Big Boy Update:  "It's all the way in the tummy."  He was done eating yesterday after dinner and daddy asked him if he was full.  After telling us that he was, indeed, full, he said the food was all the way in his tummy.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Runny nose feels crummy.  I don't know what summery coldish thing she has, but it's making her short-tempered and cranky.  Today is day two of the summer cold blues.

Fitness Update:  Tiring morning at the gym.  I suppose running twenty miles in two days had an affect on me.  It's a good thing we decided to train for the marathon because I think we need it.

Someone Once Said:   Being right too soon is socially unacceptable.

In No Kind of Hurry

Children have no sense of hurry.  They live in the now and their time-sense is very short and specific.  No where is this more apparent than when they're eating a Popsicle.

You've seen this happen all your life.  There is a cute child holding on to an ice cream cone and there is ice cream dripping down their face, onto their shirt, on their pants and legs and getting between their toes.  But do they care? 

They are so pleased to have that ice cream they want to make it last a long time.  Is that it?  Or are they not as food-driven as we are as adults?  Or wait, are they not bothered by being messy because being clean isn't a priority?

I don't know.  But I do know it's a mess.  We gave my son and daughter a yogurt Popsicle last night after dinner.  But not inside.  No no.  We sent them out on the deck and shut the door.  Then, there was some sort of altercation and screaming ensued and they were separated to two locations outside.  Consumption went more calmly after that.

Does my son finish his before it's all over him?  Of course not.  He wasn't near the hose so he had to have certain items of clothing removed before he could come in to have a bath.  My daughter, on the other hand, fared better, but only for a specific reason: she likes to paint on the glass door and window with her yogurt Popsicle.

So there was dripping all over the deck floor and the windows were a right mess, but hey, she was where the hose was, so all was cleaned up rather quickly and she was sent off to have a de-stickifying bath with her brother.

The Big Boy Update:  Let's make a house.  We were on the porch and my son and daughter were jumping from the coffee table to the sofa.  Suddenly, my son decided the cushions needed to be rearranged to make a "house" area.  We tried for a while, but while he could sit still and enjoy the secret space, his sister just wanted to knock it down.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Recycling babies.  She loves the two baby dolls we have handed down from our friends.  Why she decided to recycle them both in the recycle bin last night is a mystery though.

Fitness Update:  Six miles this morning.  I can't run fast in the morning.  I can run long though.  Okay, maybe I'm not trying hard enough.  I'll try again next time to get some speed on.

Someone Once Said:  Almost everything about a human creature is ridiculous, except its ability to suffer bravely and die gallantly for whatever it loves and believes in.

A Different Kind of Jiggle

I've noticed something recently.  I've been exercising vigorously and bits of me have been moving up and down.  And yes, the lady bits do bounce up and down, but those aren't the bits to which I'm referring.  Those bits are happily contained within a restrictive fitness bra.

These fitness bras are so comfortable and stylish and non-bra looking that I prefer to run with only the fitness bra top on in the summer because, hey, why sweat up a shirt when you already have too much laundry piling up. 

But back to the jiggly.  I noticed not long ago that when I'm doing something bouncy and aerobic that I still have that jiggle factor going on, but it's more of a, "wump wump" type of thing than a, "blub blub" kind of action.  Did I lose you?  It's the difference between fat and muscle.   Fat does this sort of jiggly flappedy thing when it moves around, while muscle does a solid thump sort of thing as it moves.

I am doing an absolutely terrible job of explaining this, so I am going to just quit.  Suffice it to say, It's interesting to see changes in your body.  It's strange to have muscles where, for as long as you can remember, there was a sort of amorphous body mass in those same places in the past.

It's cool. 

The Big Boy Update:  "I go potty.  I poop."  I was in the gym this morning and he was in the play room, locked in, and playing happily with toys.  After a few sets of exercises, I told daddy I thought he might have messed up his pants.  I looked in the window and he looked at me and talked.  I couldn't hear him, but I could read his lips well enough:  "I go potty.  I poop."  OH.  I see.  "Daddy, could you go get the go bag so I could change him?"   His underpants didn't make it home.  They weren't a pretty sight.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Play Doh Fun.  I got some Play Doh and introduced it to her while her brother was sleeping.  She understood it immediately.  They must play with clay of some sort at school.  She had a nice time combining colors, stamping out shapes, cutting and pulling out the "fun factory" machine when it made spaghetti hair.

Fitness Update:  Gym and one very hot run.  Daddy and I took the children to the gym this morning and put them in the play room.  They loved the toys.   We liked the workout.  Then, at five o'clock, Uncle Jonathan pushed the stroller with our two children and my neighbor and I ran beside him, huffing and puffing in the hot weather and trying to run a fast three miles (at which we failed) while he calmly pushed a double stroller up the hills.   And to think we thought we were in shape...

Someone Once Said:  Dying is not to be feared – it is the final comfort. As we all learn eventually.

So About That Marathon

I've been talking about it for some time.  It's been sincere talking (if there is such a thing).  I've been training up for distance, but only in a rather scattered manner.  I haven't made a real commitment for several reasons--until now.

First, there was the strange knee pain that started the day of the half marathon in November of last year.  It took me into the next year to have a diagnosis that ultimately was, "sure, you're fine to train for a marathon, but you really ought to do some cross-training if you want that niggling pain to stop.)

Second, there was the personal trainer.  And no, I'm not complaining about him.  I very much enjoy going to see him every week and being put through tough exercises that can also be categorized as fun (as soon as you've survived them.)

Third, there's the shin splints.  I still have them, although they are very mild.  Actually, I think I have them.  I'm hyper-aware of any perceived pain in my shins so I think I still have them, but it's drastically reduced.  Still, I'm wary of over-training and making that worse.

So, is there going to be a marathon for me this year?  On the way to the gym recently I mentioned to my neighbor that we could sign up for the November marathon (the same one we did last year for our half) and then we'd be committed, but we'd have well more time than we needed to train for the distance.  She agreed and then we both dropped the subject.

Then, less than a week later, she said, "Let's do it.  Let's do this marathon."  Later that day she sent me a link to the marathon and said she'd signed up.  Not to be the slow second place, I immediately signed up as well.

What was the first thing we said when we got in the car to go to the gym the next morning?  "What have we done?!"  She wasn't initially into a marathon, but she is now.  She's been doing reading on best training schedules because we're going to have to work around her and her husband's on-call schedule and hospital times.  From experience, getting together for one long run each week is going to be a challenge for this very busy doctor and mom of four.

So we're committed.  It won't be until November, but we're already able to run upper teens in distance without much worry.  But, running eighteen miles is a long way short of twenty-six point two.  So there is progress to be made...in the heat...in the humidity.

It's sure to be fun.

The Big Boy Update:  Another itchy update.  Our saline pool got hit with lots of salt the other morning.  Today after being in the pool for a while my son got out to have some snack.  I noticed he was scratching himself all over and realized he had a white coating all over his skin.  Just like ocean water, if you don't dry yourself off when you get out, the water evaporates and the salt remains.  I had to take him into the shower and wash him off.  It didn't bother my daughter, but then again, my son has special itchy skills.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  "She's a serious little girl."  That's what my neighbor said.  She also said she didn't see her laugh much.  What?  Really?  She giggles all the time.  Then, Bryna watched them for a few hours while we had a meeting at school and the giggles and laughter came out.  Now she knows what my daughter's really like.

Fitness Update:  Eleven miles.  Easy run this morning.  We're starting lower than our recent long runs to have a planned distance increase every week.

Someone Once Said:  To be matter-of-fact about the world is to blunder into fantasy - and dull fantasy at that, as the real world is strange and wonderful.

The Twenty-one Year Wallet

When I was much younger I got a job working at IBM.  I remember during that time I became infatuated with the brand Coach for purses.  I know the timing specifically because I was also dating this very nice gentleman who, on seeing how much I loved the purse and matching wallet I'd gotten, got me a matching key ring.

That was a long time ago.  I didn't realize just how long ago it was until I was at our girls weekend retreat this past weekend and my friend was talking about an unusual situation she'd encountered with a sales person and her wallet.

While she told her story, she pulled out her wallet and used it to demonstrate.  The story with her wallet wasn't important to me at that time though, what did strike me was how her wallet had some features to it I had never thought about before, or, well, I suppose in a long time.

After lunch, not three stores later, there was a store we all went in that happened to sell wallets.   Suddenly, twenty-one years after I'd adopted my current wallet, I was in the market again.  I pulled out my wallet and looked at it in detail.  Could it possibly be that old?  It looked in good shape.  It wasn't overly worn.  The change purse that had been carrying no doubt filthy change for decades still was in great shape.  Twenty-one years?  Really?

But it was so.  And I suddenly wanted a new wallet.  I found one in that very store that was inexpensive (unlike that Coach one, of that I am most certain).  So I bought it and when we got back to the house I moved to the new wallet.

So far, it's working out very well.  The only problem is I can't find it in my very small, very organized purse.  This is not its fault, or the fault of my purse.  It's my brain not recognizing the shape when I reach my hand inside the main compartment.  But I'm starting to retrain my brain.

I don't trust this new wallet that much though.  I mean, does it have the stamina to go for decades like my old wallet?  I was suddenly sentimental.  My old wallet is currently sitting empty, in my bedside nightstand drawer, just in case I need to go back to it in a hurry.  Say, if the other wallet falls to pieces one day unexpectedly.

The Big Boy Update:  He know his name.  I mean, well, he should know it.  But he knows his whole name.  When he's in trouble, I call him by his first and middle name, but he'd never said it back to me before.  And he knows his last name.  He even knows he has three names and that daddy and mommy have the same last name that he does.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Sung to the tune of "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" ... "Bye, Bye, Crinkle Little Star".  This is one of many variations she's been working on for this very popular song in our house.  Popular to her and her brother,  Daddy and mommy have had well enough of it by now.

Someone Once Said:  Never insult anyone by accident.

The People Make the Business

I've been doing some investigation into the Directors and Officers insurance for our children's school as one of the tasks of a committee I'm chairing.  In that investigation, I've discovered things about our personal insurance coverage that have caused my husband and me to question our personal insurance policies.

We decided to have someone local quote us comparable coverage as our current company was out of state.  I've learned that our state has complicated insurance rules and have been impressed at what we've been able to learn by working with skilled agents at a local company.

What I also learned, or rather re-learned, is that the people make the business.  The company I went back to provided us our builders insurance for our house construction.  At that time it didn't make sense for us to move other policies to them, but I remembered the proficiency, courtesy and positiveness of every person I spoke with.

When we had questions, I went back to them and again, I'm impressed with their service.  But I'm more impressed with their people.  I even had a request for some advice on the Directors and Officers insurance that started us down the whole path towards them.  I was told they'd be glad to look over the policy to see if there were any concerns or oversights or even suggestions for more robust coverage.

What I didn't expect was that the owner of the company, who was the most experienced in that area, would review the policy, write me a detailed email with helpful suggestions and do so all within a single business day.

Service is important.  Quality counts.  Price can make or break a decision.  But the people can ultimately be the thing that makes a difference.

The Big Boy Update:  "Finished."  We know he's saying the word, "finished" but it comes out, "shey shey".  I asked him if he could say the word, "finished" and it turns out he can.  But apparently, "finished" does not mean finished, only "shey shey" does.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  "All Done."  When she's completed something, particularly eating, she says, "all done."  This is what her class says.  She initially would tell you, "NO!" when she didn't want something more or that particular thing again.  Now she is more confident in her ability to communicate and your ability to understand her saying, "all done."

Fitness Update:  Gym.  Nothing special, tiring as normal.  We had to carry a large twenty pound medicine ball for far to long and up and down too many stairs.  Then, we had to do pushups.  Oh, and then do the whole thing from scratch again.

Someone Once Said: They didn't want it good, they wanted it Wednesday.

The Injection Lesson

My neighbor's daughter had a soy allergy when she was little.  She knows my son gets, "itchy" as he calls it, from time to time and that foods tend to bother him.  He does have a mild to medium allergy to some ingredients, one of which we discovered early on was egg whites.

His allergies are of the type that he has a skin-based histamine reaction.  That means his skin gets red, he becomes itchy and he scratches.  In the next several days as the food is processed through his system it turns into eczema on his skin.  The good news is, he doesn't have the breathing-related reaction some children have.

But allergies tend to progress and recess when it comes to these types of juvenile immature immune system reactions.  For instance, his egg allergy has diminished drastically, while soy beans will make him redder than a beet in the sunshine if he eats enough of them in a setting.   He loves edamame beans and has eaten them with no ill-effects in the past; but lately, they are enemy number one.

So, back to my neighbor and how she likes to be prepared.  She said if we ever had to give an injection of ephedrine (those epi-pens) that we should have experience doing it.  And then she volunteered her husband's leg.  Her husband, Steven, is of the nicest sort.  He didn't flinch that his wife had just offered for some neighbor to jam a needle into his leg.  He said, sure, that would be fine.

So, two nights ago after the children were in bed, I went next door and gave him an injection of Humira.  He was an excellent patient.  But even so, it was nice to have that experience.  The good news is my son has an "a-type reaction" (which doesn't mean anything to me other than it doesn't involve breathing issues.")  So hopefully I'll never experience it other than this kindly lesson from next door.

The Big Boy Update:  "I do it myself."  Does there really need to be an explanation to this one?  He's hit that age.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  "Pea nup, pea nup"  What she's doing is singing the "clean up" song, which she does a lot when she's cleaning up.  It took me a while to realize that's what she was saying.

Someone Once Said: You can’t thank a person for saving your life.

The Motivation Inclination

My son and I had a battle of wills today.  It started when he got a hold of a grown-up game with lots of cards.   You know the type, like Trivial Pursuits with a full box of cards that are organized in the same direction and orientation.  When I came up to the room, he had dumped them on the floor.

"This is okay", I thought; "he will just have to put them back."  So I told him about his future task and that strewing them around the floor (which he was enjoying doing) would only make his clean up work longer.  He is two-and-a-half, he didn't care.

Soon, he wanted to do other things and I prevented him from all of them.  He was informed he would not be able to do anything else until the cards were picked up.  He tried tactic after tactic on me such as, "I want to take a nap," sneaking off, trying to engage his sister or me, pretending to need to go to the potty, flinging himself down on the floor and generally not doing anything at all to put a single card away.

I told him I was willing to help, but that I couldn't put up cards unless he did.  The battle became protracted as he refused to do anything, stating again and again that he couldn't do it and it was too hard.

I tried many forms of motivation, including incentive: "you can have a nap when you've put the cards up."  Fear: "your father is going to be very upset when he comes home and sees this isn't cleaned up."  (And on the fear note, he probably was afraid of me because I lost my temper at him more than once.)  I also used achievement:  "you will have done such a good job, won't daddy be proud when he sees what you did cleaning all these cards up."  And even social motivation:  "your sister has cleaned up her work, it's time for you to clean up yours."

But nothing worked.  The battle was getting ugly.  I wasn't going anywhere.  Right before daddy got home I was working on something in the closet and he saw a game he'd never seen before.  He tried to get at it and play with it.  I reminded him again that he wouldn't be able to do anything else until the cards were cleaned up.  This time, with the motivation of something else he wanted to play with badly enough, he ran over and started putting the cards into the box.

That game won't be there next time to entice him.  It was such a quick thing to put up the cards, but the battle to win and have your way sometimes makes things ever so much more complicated.

The Big Boy Update:  "I can't reach it.  You're taller."  There was a truck on the counter he wanted (that I had intentionally put up high where he couldn't reach it).  After trying to grab it with no success, he turned to me and said, "I can't reach it.  You're taller."

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Sign writer.  Her friends next door are at camp.  They're older friends at eleven and thirteen, but she loves playing with them.  Today we wrote two signs, "Hi Shane!" and "Hi Blake!" and had her hold them while we took pictures of her.  Then we got a picture of her waving and printed them on a piece of paper.  Then...she drew all over it.  Tomorrow her pictures are going to camp via the postal service as Blake and Shane will be gone a whole month.

Fitness Update:  Gym.  Tired.  I'm not sure why.  Don didn't seem to care that I was tired.  He told me he "trains" and that we just, "work out."

Someone Once Said: You can sway a thousand men by appealing to their prejudices quicker than you can convince one man by logic.

One Bike For The Price of Two

I haven't had a bicycle in a long time.  I wrote last year about how I went on a bike ride over Easter on my in-laws bikes in Florida and how it was interesting to watch how my body remembered what to do to pedal a bicycle.  Later in the year, I decided I'd like to get my own bicycle for both exercise and family entertainment. 

After selecting a bicycle that fit my spinal fusion-based needs (more upright than most), I found out bicycles aren't cheap.  My husband assured me my selection was very reasonable in price and that bicycles only ramped in price from the starting point I was entering from.  So I got the bicycle and had it outfitted with a rack that would hold my basked or the second child seat my husband had ordered for my daughter.  Also, I got a bell.

I would ride the bike from time to time.  My mother-in-law told me a bicycle isn't something you need feel guilty about spending money on today, because it usually has a long lifespan to pay back that investment in enjoyment.

One day I told my husband I wanted to take my son or daughter out on the bicycle.  He went out and put the seat on the back and then the next thing I know, the bicycle is smashed into the back quarter panel of my car.  And no, my husband didn't make this happen.  I don't remember if it was my son grabbing at the seat or me trying to keep him from grabbing at the seat or some other situation, but the rear end was heavier and less-stable and the little bike rack just wasn't up to the job.

So wham, skerrretch...and DAMN.  It wasn't a large scratch, but there was an indention.  That indention has sat there since the end of last summer and it's been annoying me since it happened.  Next week I'm taking the car in to get it fixed.   Can you guess from the title of this post about how much the repairs will cost?

If you guessed, "about as much as the bicycle cost in the first place", you'd be right.

The Big Boy Update:  Breakfast impossible.  I lost my temper at him this morning.  He is in an untenable mood some mornings where he doesn't want anything and yet has to have everything.  I took all his food away as he tried to throw it at me.  He finally calmed down, began to eat the only thing left I hadn't offered him yet and then ate one of the largest breakfasts he's eaten in a while.  He did all of this while his sister quietly sat and ate her meal across the table from him.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Knee scraper.  Just about the time the current scrapes heal on her knees, she incurs more damage to them via stumbles and falls.  Today she did it again. 

Fitness Update:  Last night I just had to do something since I had mostly eaten fudge all weekend so I went to the fitness room for thirty minutes.   This morning we were back at the gym in what's almost daylight with the extended daylight hours as we approach summer solstice.

Someone Once Said:  ‘Statues’ are dead politicians. This is ‘sculpture.’

The Rain Walk

After dinner the other night we had time to kill before bed.  My daughter decided she wanted to go outside, which is what she wants to do most of the time.  "Fine," I thought, "she can see how fun it is to go outside while it's raining and I opened the door."

She happily went outside, climbed down the stairs and went to the playground.  The rain wasn't bothering her a bit.  My husband then had a great idea.  He said, "let's go on a rain walk!"  It was nice weather, the rain was soft and warm and it would be a fun family activity.

So off we went to get rubber sandals for the children and headed out to the front via the garage.  My daughter was happy to be holding daddy's hand in the rain as she walked with him towards the road.  My son, not so much.  He stood at the edge of the garage and said, "I stay here."  I told him to come out in the rain and that we'd have fun.  He stepped out, stepped back in and said, "it tickles."

So, I asked him if he wanted to ride in the plastic blue car.  Of course he said, "yes," because no child in this house turns down an invitation to be driven around in the blue car.  

The duration of our rain walk wasn't long as it was nearing bedtime and the rain soon became more intense and therefore less enjoyable to be out in.  But we had fun and we saw one of our neighborhood friends, Laney, who at twenty-months-old is the happiest child in water of any fashion.  We met her as she was dancing and clapping her hands in her front yard with her father.

The Big Boy Update:  "E3 Hype Train!"  Uncle Jonathan kept the children today while my husband and I attended a Board of Adjusters hearing down town in support of our school.  As it was the first day of E3, Uncle Jonathan was busily watching coverage of the new technology announcements.  He got my son involved by yelling, "E3 Hype Train!" to which my son would yell back, "Choo Choo!" while attacking a large pillow.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Greasy hair.  Her hair normally isn't greasy, but tonight it is.  I added a little too much moisturizer oil to their bath by accident.  Not to worry, I'll just use the spray nozzle and wash their hair while they sit up.  That went fine until later when my daughter decided to dunk and redunk her head in the oily water.  Dry, her hair still looks wet.  We'll have to wash it again in the morning because it's pretty crazy looking tonight.

Someone Once Said:   Life is filled with tragedy; if you let it overwhelm you, you cannot enjoy life’s innocent pleasures.

No Mouse in the House

There was a time when computers didn't have mouses.  But it was long ago.  I am currently on a borrowed machine writing this blog post.  The keyboard feels funny and I'm incurring typos at a frightening rate, but the mouse works.  Just try making a blog post on a computer without a mouse these days.

And yes, there are tablets and smart phones and what not, but I like a computer.  And I like a computer with a mouse.  Only mine is broken.  That, I'll address tomorrow as tonight, I'm tired.

The Big Boy Update:  "The pacifier is for sleeping."  After watching his sister go for her pacifier multiple times when it was clearly not her intention to sleep, and hearing adults tell her her pacifier was only for sleeping, he jumped in on the "helpful information" front and let her know she needed to put her pacifier back unless she intended to sleep.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Into the lake.  Her brother, without meaning to, knocked her into the lake off the dock today.  He was using the net to clean out the gunk and he wasn't helpful with her balance when he bumped into her.  Nana jumped in and saved her when she fell over.

Out-shopped

It's girls weekend and my girlfriends and I have invaded my parents mountain home.  They are kind enough to let us do this once per year.  This year, they have even offered to take us all to dinner at the club.  And while this sounds like a delicious option for the evening, it also involves dressing appropriately for the occasion at their country club.

Truthfully, we each had clothing that would have been acceptable given that we'll be eating in the casual room downstairs, but it gave us an opportunity, one as ladies we embraced fully--we could go shopping for more clothes today!

So shop we did.  We started the morning right with pedicures to get us ready for a full schedule of merchandise browsing, dressing room trying-on and credit card swiping.  We're back at home now and we have a different problem: we have too many clothing options from which to choose now.

I'm a fairly good shopper, but I got out-shopped from all directions with my friends.  Maybe I just wasn't in the mood?  Or, maybe I kept thinking of my "one out, one in" rule for the clothes in the closet.  I'm left with zero free hangers currently, so anything I buy today will mean something to be retired when I get home.

The Big Boy Update:  Sleeping in a twin bed.  He slept in a twin bed with some added railings last night at Nana and Papa's.  He did very well I hear and even enjoyed the whole experience.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Teacher babble.  I spoke with my son's teacher today and she mentioned that for the last few days of school, the doors between classrooms were opened and that my daughter came over to see her.  Apparently my daughter said lots of things to Elim, but Elim wasn't able to figure out what her babble meant.  Finally, she told her where the potty was, which is a good thing, because my daughter can go about every ten minutes.

Someone Once Said: It does not do to encourage bad manners; one should retaliate, urbanely but firmly.

Lily of the Valley

Before going to sleep last night I was playing a game on the iPad where you look for items in a scene and then you have to do something with those items at some point in the future.  The genre of games is called, "hidden object" but it's evolved so much over time that more of the games are far more reminiscent of the game "Myst".  You move around through scenes and have to determine what to do to solve puzzles and make things happen.  And, from time to time, there are hidden object scenes included. 

So, it was on one of these scenes when I had to find an object called, "Lily of the Valley" and I wasn't sure what it was.  Well, I was sure I knew what it was, if only I could remember what it was.  I knew it was a flower that was small, not a bushy kind of thing.  It wasn't garishly colored and it seemed in my mind that it wold be delicate.  But I didn't know what it looked like.

When I found it, the thought "high school dances" came to mind and I realized when I'd seen the flower in the past.  They would be on my corsages the boys would give to me before we'd head off in our fancy clothes to stand awkwardly around and possibly dance at those school dances.

Funny how our mind makes connections and we have to backtrack to figure out why that association's there.

The Big Boy Update: "A B C D E F G, next time won't you eat food."  That was my son's version of the ABC's song yesterday.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Macaroni and cheese.  This is a food she loves.  Her brother doesn't seem to care much about it, but she will eat two platefuls.  We don't give it to her often enough for it to become an obsession (I know, you're thinking about the Chickenfries issue) but it's always a good way to get a big meal in her.

Fitness Update:  Workout in the gym with our trainer this morning.  It was a tough morning in that he had us do more, "awkward exercises".  Those would be the new exercises he throws at us that we just don't seem to be coordinated enough to get at first.  Laughter ensues.  Then, daddy and I went to the fitness room and spent some time on the machines there while the children were at school for the last day of the year.

Someone Once Said:   I think, at a child’s birth, if a mother could ask a fairy godmother to endow it with the most useful gift, that gift would be curiosity.

They Only Know Touch Screens

My daughter wanted the arcade machine turned on the other day.  It's one of those stand up machines, much like were in arcades all around the world starting in the eighties, although this one is a newer version with a whole collection of games.

I pulled over a chair and she stood on it looking at the controls.  I showed her how the joystick moved the selection up and down on the screen.  She watched me show her that and then must have decided she wanted to make a selection because she leaned all the way forward and tried to touch the screen with her finger.

She doesn't have any experience with non-touch screen interfaces.  Touching what you want seems normal and natural to her.  I remember the first time we put on the television upstairs in our bonus room and had the same problem with my son.  The television was low down and he could walk up to it and touch it.  He delighted in trying to interact with Mickey Mouse, Goofy and Pluto, only to find they moved of their own accord, regardless of how hard he pushed on the screen with his finger.

The Big Boy Update:  "Where's where's where's where's where's..."  While he's trying to formulate a sentence of late, he will get stuck on the first word until he figures out where he's going with his question.  Sometimes this can result in the first word being repeated seven or eight times.  We just wait and he finally figures it out.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  The most flexible girl in school.  She has been called this by more than one teacher and I don't doubt it.  Not only does she still sleep with her head on her feet in pike position, she does other uncomfortable body bending when sitting or climbing.

Fitness Update:  Off to do a run in the dark this morning and it started to rain,  But hey, no worries nowadays because we can just go over to the fitness room and workout there. 

Someone Once Said:  A fact has no ‘why.’ There it stands, self-demonstrating.

Jump Rope Implausible

From time to time at the gym our trainer has us jump rope for a minute at a time.  Our job, for that single minute, is to jump rope in any fashion we conjure and not fall flat on our face, stumble, trip or in general fail at the basic task of jumping up when the rope goes under our feet.

For a while, I thought there was some sort of defective manufacturing in that jump rope.  Then I decided it was just too long.  After trying various amounts of "choking up" on the rope with no better results, I determined I was a jump rope failure.  But what amazes me is as a child this was a FUN activity.  We liked jumping rope.  We argued that it was our turn next and that Janie or Jake from down the street was taking more than their fair share of time on the rope, they'd better hand it over fast or there would be "trouble."

Why in the world did we find this sort of thing fun?  It's awkward, it's tiring and it's not remotely fun.  If you're going to jump up and down, then do so.  But don't add the additional challenge of putting a measure of string that's whipping about over your head and fast approaching your feet into the mix unless you took your moron pills for the day.  It's not only not fun, it's a sure way to make you feel like an uncoordinated oaf.   Trust me on this.  I'm an expert when it comes to lack of coordination.

So, from a fitness perspective, that one minute must be good stuff because I hate it, it's tiring and I can't manage to do it well--all things that indicate I have room to improve.  What I still can't figure out how is how we found this grueling activity "fun" when we were children.

The Big Boy Update:  Mimi has a second home.  It's a home she doesn't even know she has.  When we got to school sometimes we have to do a loop around the block to get into the drop off line.  The street we turn down is on a hill not unlike Mimi's house is on and it has similarly aged and styled houses on either side.  My son always tells us we're at Mimi's house when we turn that way.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Hardcore!  This was a joke back on Thanksgiving day of last year.  My son was trying to pick up a heavy weight and we were telling him he was, "hardcore".  He started repeating it back then and we thought it was cute and encouraged him.  Now, my daughter associates certain things with the word, "hardcore".  Today in the car she was holding a piece of dental floss and yelling, "HARDCORE!" again and again.  I'm not altogether certain how she came to the conclusion that dental floss was hardcore, but it's hard to argue with an eighteen-month-old.

Someone Once Said:  The worst aspect of a chore, and most always more troublesome than the task itself, is procrastinating, putting it off, and not completing it.

It's One Of Those Days

I feel like I've been chasing my tail all day and the funny thing about that is I don't think I even have a tail.  I've looked.  I've tried to swish my theoretical tale tail to the beat of a song but it just doesn't seem to be there.  So I'm going to have to go with the traditional meaning of the phrase and declare that today was both a total success and total failure at the same time.

Did I get to the gym and work out?  I did and I had a great time with Uncle Jonathan.  Did I get lots done on the end of year celebration and teacher gift front?  Why yes, I got much further than I anticipated.  Did I catch up on my emails, schedule things that needed to be scheduled, take care of things around the house and in general get "a bunch of crap accomplished" today?  Undoubtedly, the answer is yes.

But I'm on a time crunch.  I have much to accomplish and little time and I have more to do tonight than I'd like and I just want to be in bed right now because I'm going to work out with my neighbor at five o'clock.  So this will be brief.

That means I'm done with this blog post.  Come back tomorrow, maybe I'll be more interesting.  But don't count on it.

The Big Boy Update:  "This rock is too loud."   He decided the rock he selected was making too much noise, so he exchanged it for another rock, pretty much like the first rock.  It didn't seem to bother him that he was the one being too loud--FAR too loud--in the car.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Push and Click.  She is obsessed.  OBSESSES with clicking things together right now.  It's very cute.  She will tell you she wants to "pooosh" which means she wants to push the two things together. 

Fitness Update:  Back to the fitness room at our new clubhouse.  I tried to do more weights on the machines than I did before.  I fear the soreness tomorrow morning.

Someone Once Said:  It is a holy paradox that anyone who thinks he is a saint never is.

The Broken Car

My son broke our car this morning.  He did.  I swear it.  I opened the door and let the children climb in and I was about to get them strapped into their car seats when I realized I needed to run back into the house to get something I'd forgotten.  "They'll be all right," I thought to myself as I walked off.   My daughter is at the age where connecting things, especially lap belts, is her passion.  My son, on the other hand, likes buttons.  Oh, and he wants to drive the car.

I get back in short order to find my daughter still working on "clicking" the belts and my son happily in the drivers seat with the hazard lights on.  He's probably pressed other buttons but as the car is off and there's no key in sight, he can't have done much harm.  Or can he?

I get him out and put him in his car seat and then I push the button to have the door shut and nothing happens.  That's odd.  Well, let me grab the door handle, that will surely make it go.  But no, the door was dead.  Okay, not to worry, let me get my daughter in her seat and I'll worry about this in a minute.  I go to the drivers seat and press the buttons to open the back sliding doors and now I'm surprised, because those buttons aren't working either.

I try and open the driver's side sliding door, which had been shut all along and couldn't have been messed with by my son to find I had to manually open and pull it back.  I discovered the door was both heavy and had a lot of inertia once I got it sliding.  So, two children in car seats, two sliding doors not functioning.  I manually close both and we head off to school.

Is there any chance this is a battery issue?  I wasn't gone for long enough to drain enough power, but he did press a lot of buttons and the hazards were blinking furiously when I returned?  To check, I stopped the car, turned it off and back on and still no power to the back doors.

For part of this time I had a suspicion about what had happened.  My son, in his eagerness to drive the car, pushed every button trying to find the on switch.  There must be some button I don't know about.  Some button that must clearly be labeled "if you want to disable useful functionality and break your back doors, just press here."  So where was this button?

As I'm driving I look all around.  There are so many buttons on cars today.  I found two buttons, nay features, I never even noticed before--features I intend on using in the future because they are in the "useful" category unlike whatever button my son has hit.

I saw a television show once about how our brain works, specifically how we deal with large volumes of information at a time.  The specific example was how we manage to find the items we need in a grocery store.  Our brains, out of necessity, ignore much of the information around us so that we can focus on the task at hand.  Have you been in a store, looking for item X on row Y and you can't see it for the life of you?  You look up and down, left and right, and it turns out it was right in front of you, at eye-level when the associate shows you where it is?  That's our brain's amazing capability to filter in action.

On that particular show, they showed how this works with some extreme examples.  They had shoppers looking for food in the canned vegetables aisle.  Right in the middle, very clear to see, there was a little area with pints of milk.  People would look up and down the rows, find what they needed and then move on.  When asked if they noticed anything unusual about the area they were just shopping in, they didn't remember anything.  When they were shown the milk, they were surprised they didn't see it.

So, with that knowledge, I knew finding this button my son had pushed was going to be challenging.  My brain was already ignoring things it didn't think I needed to know about so I had to focus very hard on looking at the mundane, the known, the oh wait, I'm driving.  Yes, yes, I was safe and prudent as I went through my visual search.  (There are lots of lights on the way to school and most of them seemed to be red when we got to them.)

Eventually, when we were almost at school I found it.  Where was it?  It was an on/off toggle right above the two buttons that open the back doors.  It was right where it should have been because it was related to those two buttons.  But since I knew what those two buttons did, I ignored the surrounding area.  I didn't even see that toggle switch there.

I wonder how he'll break the car the next time and what features I'll find as a result?

The Big Boy Update:  We were getting ready to go after two hours at the pool yesterday.  We were just about to head out when we heard a splash and turned around.  My son had jumped straight in.  Daddy hopped in after him and pulled him up.  He was flustered, but not overly panicked.  We talked about how it was important for him to wait for an adult to be in the pool before he got in.  That's when he decided he wanted to be a big boy like daddy so he could learn how to swim.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  We have a naked baby doll (one of those that looks like a real baby) that our friends children have grown out of.  Both children like "the baby" but my daughter decided she wanted to go to sleep hugging it the other night on her chest.  I almost woke her up taking a picture when the flash went off.

Fitness Update:  After a week away from the gym doing other fitness activities, we went back this morning.  Another neighbor wants to go see Don.  He's getting quite popular in our neighborhood.

Someone Once Said:  The artist is two-thirds artisan and the artisan has essentially the same creative urge as the artist.

The Name Game

I think I'm getting the hang of the name game, finally.  I have a problem when I meet someone that's plagued me for most of my life.  I am happy to meet the person, I listen to the introduction and then I focus on being friendly and saying hello and starting a conversation.  What I don't do is pay attention to the person's name.

What happens is I immediately forget their name, having missed the crucial step of making the memory stick in the first place. This problem has larger repercussions in that when I do get the person's name a second time, sometimes I'm not sure if I'm remembering it correctly with the name I had been thinking they might be.  This causes a series of doubts and avoidance steps to pursue.

With the new school and new neighborhood I seem, somehow, to be taking the time to pay attention.  I have people's names more often than not.  And this is even more impressive: I can remember who they were if they're out of place, say in the grocery store instead of standing in their front yard.

So I'm making progress.  Today I met several more people in our neighborhood.  We'll see how well I remember them when I meet them at the pool or walking down the road next.

The Big Boy Update:  Today we were at the pool.  My son told us after we got home, "I want to grow up to be a big boy like daddy so I can swim."

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  "Where's Greyson?"  She wants to know where he is when he's not around.  The other day she had a fever and I picked her up from school early.  Her brother wasn't with us as we went shopping and got food.  She frequently asked me where her brother was.  She also wants to know where daddy is when he's not around.

Someone Once Said:  Each man is his own prisoner, in solitary confinement for life.

Neighbors

We had no neighbors for so long I thought we might forever be the lone house on our street. Times have change economically though and we not only have neighbors, we have new friends.

In my last neighborhood, I didn't have children and I didn't know many people. Children change everything, or at least they have for us socially. Children move about, they like to go outside to play and generally cause people who might otherwise spend their time in front of a computer (that would be me), in a situation where they meet people.

Dogs can fulfill the same function, but as I always let my dog out to the fenced back yard, I never experienced this phenomenon.

But back to those kids, their powers of friendly neighbor introductions and the newly opened pool. And also how we just have a fantastic neighborhood. (I'm biased, I live here, but since you're wasting  your three minutes reading my blog, you'll just have to suffer through  my gushing.)

I like our neighborhood for so many reasons. The people aren't pretentious. They're friendly and helpful. They're social, very social. And something I find personally exciting, we have all sorts of ethnic and religious representation.

Diversity is a good thing. We have more than one mixed-race couple (with cute children to boot) and a variety of different nationalities represented as well. Everyone seems accepting of others and glad to be neighbors.

I hope this happy atmosphere and attitude continues as more neighbors move in. I like our little village so far.

The Big Boy Update:  He does seem to like his sister.   I've questioned it too many times when I've seen him be unkind (in my eyes) to his sister.  Although, usually he's just being as mature as his mental development at two-and-a-half years old has the experience to comprehend.  I've heard he will go over and see if she's okay if she's crying on the playground at school.  Today, he was separated from her for a while and when he saw her later, he came over and gave her an unexpected and unsolicited hug.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Spoontastic.  She loves spoons.  She is more interested in eating with a spoon than her brother is.  She likes the process so much that on the occasion food drops, which is both frequent and regular, she will pick the food up, place it into the spoon with her hand and then eat it with the spoon.

Fitness Update:  We were going to run longer today but it was hot.  We were losing pounds in sweat and we weren't in our summer running mode yet.  So our bodies rebelled, or at least mine did.  So seven-and-a-half miles and we called it a day.

Someone Once Said:  My religious faith is a private matter between me and my God. What my inner beliefs are you will have to judge by my actions…for you are not invited to question me about them. I decline to explain them nor to justify them to you.