Tuesday, March 31, 2015

They're Building a Trap

I substituted at school today.   It was for the afters school group that's after regular school hours.   The children in the group were a mix of ages, but most were between four and nine.      We go outside after a short while and the children love to do all sorts of things in the school yard.  

Some of those things are definitely okay; some of them are not.   As a substitute teacher, I'm still learning what falls into which category.   For instance, I learned today that the children don't sit on the top of the picnic table (because I was sitting on it and a helpful child told me the rule.)  Toys or equipment can be used as intended, but in some cases they can be used for other reasons.

For instance, you can't use small golf clubs as clubs or weapons.   You can, though, utilize some of the various items around the grounds with the sand box.   I looked over today and saw two see-saws, four hula-hoops, several plastic scoops and some cones in one area near the sand box.   There was mulch on top of some of the items and sand in several piles.      When I asked the main teacher if it was okay, she glanced over and said, "that's fine, they're building a trap."

I suddenly remembered from my childhood the trap building.   There was pit digging and trap building but it almost always was initiated by a boy and usually was something the boys spent lots of time doing together while I did other things and didn't understand the draw of the trap building.

My son isn't quite old enough to build traps yet, but some of those boys are in the same class as my son.   I wonder when we'll start to have "traps" build in our back yard?

The Big Boy Update:  My son did not want to go to school today.   He told me he wanted to go to his doctor (he said her name was Sue) and then go home.   He couldn't tell me how he felt bad, but when we got to school, he decided it would be okay to go ahead in to class.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter told my husband for no particular reason the other day, "dad, I don't like spiders."  Interestingly enough, dad doesn't like spiders either.

Monday, March 30, 2015

Trips and Vacations

We came back from our Florida spring break vacation yesterday.   Everyone was glad to be home.   As we were unpacking, my children saw neighbors in their yards and wanted to go out to play.    They got dressed in their warmer clothes (because we left the warm weather behind in Florida) and we all went outside to see everyone.

Stories were exchanged and we found out what the others had done while we were away for the week.   I talked about the pool and the trip to Disney and some of the other things we did.    One of the other fathers said, "It sounds like you were on a trip.   It would have been a vacation if you didn't have the kids."

I laughed and nodded.   I hadn't made the distinction before.  I mean yes, there are trips and there are also vacations, but I like going places with the children.   We don't have to go someplace alone to make it a vacation.    

Besides, my in-laws let us sleep late all week.   And there was coffee when I woke up, ready to drink.   That's just my kind of vacation.

The Big Boy Update:  At Costco my son saw a large kayak-type thing.   He walked all around the big yellow, plastic body and said, "it's made of bananas"

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter wanted her food warmed up a bit.  My husband took it over and put it in the microwave.   I think she was worried it was going too long because she said, "I want you to push the bumper button."   We figured out she meant the button that bumps the door open and stops the heating process.

Sunday, March 29, 2015

Dream Speak

My husband showed me something on his phone today when we were in the plane going home.   He asked me if I knew what it meant.   I told him I had no idea.   He said, "last night at 3:00AM you knew exactly what it meant."  He had written down the conversation because it was funny:

Me:  "Did you all start on the centerpiece yet?"
My husband:  "Huh?"
Me:  "For the mall, you know, the dinosaur one?"
My husband:  "What?  Are you dreaming?"
Me:  "Oh, you always forget.   Never mind, it's okay."

He said I shook my head at him in disgust at the time because he had clearly forgotten.

The Big Boy Update:  My son did not want to go to the bathroom before getting on the second plane. I'm not going to give you the gory details, but underpants were changed before we took off and still nothing happened.   He insisted he didn't want to go, that he wanted, "to hold it and not go."   I told him he had better hold it and that he'd made his choice.   He held it, but he had an "upset tummy" by the time we landed.   It was upset until he got to the bathroom and finally went.   This isn't a constipation issue, this is a choice thing we're working on.   It's hard to explain to a little boy how it's not good for your colon to hold it in.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  When we were at the airport today taking a bathroom break, my daughter asked me, "can I have some water from the water mountain?"

Fitness Update:   We travelled via plane today.   We went through three airports and got on two-and-a-half planes (we had to move from the second plane to a third due to mechanical issues.)  I just looked at my phone and it appears we walked 6.5 miles.  No wonder my children were tired.

Saturday, March 28, 2015

Early Easter Bunny

Today was our last full day on vacation; we leave to go home tomorrow and I am none to thrilled, because we're going back into near-freezing weather and I still want to hang out at the pool.

To finish off the week, we went to my in-law's club this morning for a breakfast with the Easter Bunny.   He came early, so that families on spring break vacation would have a chance to see him.  (Also, we heard his schedule was busy next week and he was already booked elsewhere.)

The children had a fun time getting eggs at the hunt, petting baby lambs, holding baby chicks, ducks and rabbits.   There was a big buffet afterwards, which was my favorite part (because I love food, you know?)  

The rest of this post is dedicated to some of the funny things my children have said over the past few days, some of which happened this morning.

The Big Boy Update:  
I'm shy - My son wanted to go up to the Easter Bunny today, but he was unsure.  He came over to us and said, "I'm shy."  Then he went and asked his younger sister to go with him.   She did.

Imposter! - We had been at the Easter Bunny breakfast for some time.   The Easter Bunny had been milling about, taking pictures, making gestures at people and making not a sound at all.  My son, who had apparently been observing the Easter Bunny, came over to my husband and said, "daddy, daddy, it isn't the Easter bunny. It's a human. I knew it!"

Medical Checkup - My son and I were in the hot tub with my in-laws this afternoon.   My son decided Grandpa needed a checkup and began looking him over and giving medical advice.   At one point he yelled out, "arm check!  No boo boos, just old."   After a bit more he said, "There are three problems, two of them are in your nose. There is a spider in there and the other one is a mystery. There is a problem with your ear.  There is a sound in it and it goes all the way down to your mouth."

I want to take him home - We went to Butterfly World today after brunch.   The number of butterflies we saw was far, far more than I had expected.   There were so many we had to try and avoid them.   My son loved it.   There was one very large black and white butterfly that got very close to him.  He turned to us and said, "I want to take him home."

The Tiny Girl Update:
I hear rain - We were in the car and we thought it was about to rain.   My daughter let us know the situation immediately, saying, "I hear rain.  Just one drop."

May I be excused? - My daughter has been a shining example of grace and courtesy of late.   Without prompting she will ask, "may I be excused?" when she's done eating or needs to go to the bathroom.  The other day, we were at a pizza parlor and she asked to be excused...so she could go and dance to the music playing on the speakers.

Unmasked - This morning at the Easter Bunny breakfast, my daughter came over to us and said, "it's a costume."   Somehow, she and her brother figured it out.   They weren't upset or concerned in the least, they just stated it as an observation.


Friday, March 27, 2015

Stylish Shoes

I'm not a slave to fashion.   I'm not a fashion minion either.   I think I'm more of a fashion bystander mostly.   I look at the fashions and some I gladly have no interest in.   Other fashions I can do fairly easily, like running shoes.   The colors are crazy right now and you can't find normal-colored shoes, so I just by the shoes and don't worry about it.  But other fashions I want to be a part of, only I can't figure out how.

Take ankle boots, for example.   I see women wearing skirts, shorts and all sorts of shorter-length items wearing ankle boots.  The look great doing so.   The fashion looks "right" on them.   But when I go to the store, anything I try seems to be "wrong"—it doesn't work.  Not only does it not look right, it looks downright unfashionable.   I like the look, but with that fashion, I'm left at the sidelines, wearing my sneakers or my sandals, wondering how those other ladies make it work.

Today we were at an outdoor mall.   We had dropped the children off at an indoor play land extraordinaire (we had to carry them out to eat lunch, they were having such a good time.)  While Nana watched the children, my father-in-law, husband and I went off in search of a place for lunch in the mall.

Once we'd selected a place, I decided to go into a mainstream clothing store to walk around.   I had just said, "I don't like going into those boutique stores.  They just don't work well for my low-grade level of fashion."   I walked over, opened the door, walked in and realized I'd made a mistake and gone to the store next door, which happened to be one of those very clothing boutiques.

Their clothes were different though.  Their way of displaying them was to put them in sort of blobs and not perfectly neat, folded stacks.   This was largely because a lot of their inventory was thin or lacy or knitted materials delivered in little garments that covered only small bits of your body.  

It wasn't a lingerie store, these were the latest in summer fashions.   There were dressy clothes, jeans and a random set of shoes placed between stacks of clothes.   It was like a clothing treasure hunt and I had fun picking up and looking at many of their clothing items.

Then I found a shirt I liked.   There were some jeans in black (I've always wanted jeans in black) and, wait, what are these neat-o ankle-height shoe/boot things?   I found about six things I liked in ten minutes that covered the normal amount of body parts and headed to the dressing room.   The two ladies working there were friendly and we chatted and there was no pressure about anything and, hey, those black jeans fit and the shirt went with it and that pair of heeled shoes/boots (they're some sort of amalgam I'm not sure how to describe) were dynamite and I decided I needed them.   (That means I wanted them a whole lot, not that I really "needed" them.)

My husband called and I told him to come to the store and give me advice.    I told him, "see, look, I can wear these shoes with these jeans and then...hold on (dressing room action) they also go with this  running skirt I came in with.   Wow, don't you think I should buy this great stuff, honey?"

He said, "why of course dear, whatever makes you happy."    Okay, you know it didn't go down that way, but he did say they looked nice and I always appreciate his truthful opinion, so I bought the lot.

I am excited about those shoes—which are both comfortable and stylish—and I can't wait to get home and have opportunities to wear them.    I think I might just have figured out a way to get off the sidelines of fashion with these new boots.  

The Big Boy Tiny Girl Bathroom Update:  At lunch today we decided it was time to take the children to the bathroom.   When we told them it was time to go, my daughter said, "there are no bathrooms here."   My son had his own reason for not going to the bathroom, saying, "I'm holding it forever."

Thursday, March 26, 2015

The Cool Pool

My in-laws have a swimming pool at their house here in Florida where we're vacationing.   I hear pools aren't that uncommon in Florida, but from where I come from a few states in a northerly direction, they're the ultimate in cool.

I love my in-laws pool.  Well, to be technically correct, there are two pools.   There is a hot tub or spa round part that's higher up and a main pool that's about two feet lower down.   The two pools can work together, cycling water through the spa pool, over a little waterfall area at the rim of one side, flowing into the main pool and then back again.

There is a heater component that makes the water in the spa portion nice and warm (or hot if you let me at the controls.)  With that heater running and the waterfall flowing, the entire pool can be increased in temperature.    With the heater unit working and the waterfall off, the spa pool gets nice and hot and the main pool remains fresh and cool.

My children love the hot tub part.   The seats are at a good height for them to stand on and the center is fun to dive down into to get dive sticks.    It's also warm (or hot if you let me at the controls) and doesn't require any direct swimming supervision.   But my children love the big pool too, and they renamed it.    They will be in the hot tub splashing back and forth between several adults and then one will say, "I want Papa to come to the Cool Pool with me and do the slide."  

Hot Pool and Cool Pool, I love them both.  (I love the hot pool more, but you had already guessed that, right?)

The Big Boy Update:  Yesterday we were at Animal Kingdom in a safari truck, on a safari ride through one of the most expansive "rides" Disney has.  You drive through a veritable natural zoo and see far more animals than you expect.   My son saw the tall termite hills and recognized them from one of the educational kids shows he watches.  He asked us, "is that where termites live?"

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  We were driving to dinner tonight and my husband was explaining what we were going to do.  (This is something you do with kids a lot.)    He said we were going to a  buffet and the first thing we'd all do is get a tray for our food.   From the back of the car my daughter said, "what in the world?  A train?"   After we laughed at her phraseology, my husband explained that he had said "tray" and not "train."

Wednesday, March 25, 2015

Disney Discourse

I feel like I have to write about our two-day trip to Disney World we just returned from, because hey, it was Disney and everyone talks about their trip to Disney, right?  I feel obligated.   I mean who goes to Disney and doesn't just exude excitement over the experience?   Who doesn't LOVE Disney?  I ask you?

Okay, that person is me.   I think it's me for a collection of reasons.   First, I only went to Disney World once when I was quite young.   I have memories that are vague of the experience.  I know it was a fun trip, but that's about all I remember.   That trip didn't turn me into a Disney fanatic.  We had family vacations, they just weren't to Disney and I don't think I was any less of a happy child.    I knew the characters, but since we didn't have cable TV with the box and the paid Disney channel, I wasn't inculcated with the thrill and, well, "magic" of Disney.

That is not to say I dislike all things Disney; I'm just ambivalent.    Couple that with the two visits to Disney World after the one when I was eight-years-old and I can honestly say I'd rather skip the parks and hang out at the pool.

My first adult trip was with my husband before we had children on the third of January one year.   It was very, very cold and I was very, very chilled the entire day.   It was packed plus slammed plus crammed with people finishing their holiday break and it was a miserable day.   We could park hop with our tickets but going to a second, overcrowded park in one day did not improve my opinion of the Disney properties.

The next time I went to Disney I had a not-quite two-year-old and an eleven-month-old who could only take a few steps at a time.   Disney is not fun with children who don't want to be in a stroller, can't be left alone so you can go to the bathroom or get them food, don't  understand why they have to be held to wait in a twenty-five minute line and are unhappy because they can't play in the dirt and grass and eat rocks.   That trip is when I had my Disney meltdown.

There was another day trip after that that I declined to join.   My daughter and I stayed at the pool (did I mention I preferred the pool?) while my son, husband and in-laws drove up to meet my brother-in-law's family.   They had a delightful day.   I was happy my son had a good time.

This year, things would be different though.   This year, my children were old enough and we were going to take two days and it was going to be—dare I use the word?—AWESOME.   That's right, I was going to be in awe of the wonders of Disney.    And yeah, yeah, I know I've got this snarky attitude going on coupled with what's clearly an expectation of utter Disney failure, but that's the amount of trepidation I had going into this "adventure."

I'm not going to bore you with a blow by blow of what we did, other than to say we went to a very busy Magic Kingdom yesterday and met up with our friends who left months ago to live on the road in a 45-foot rig.   Everyone was excited to see each other and we spent the day together.   Today we went to a much-less crowded Animal Kingdom until late afternoon and then drove home.

You know what?   It wasn't half bad.   Hell, it wasn't even a quarter bad.   There were frustrating bits, but most of that was logistical stuff and we expected that.    We rode rides and the children loved them.  (Stick my daughter on a roller coaster and she is one happy kid.)    We saw shows, including ones with 3-D glasses and seats that surprised you with hidden features and the children were entranced.   If I could have taken a good picture of them in the dark, I would have.

We saw animals, went on a safari and saw a bird show.   My son was excited about each and every animal and talked about them throughout.   The children were patient with the lines and enjoyed seeing their friends and spending time with them.   And then there were the characters.

My in-laws had made us a reservations at a "character dinner" which is a buffet, but one in which the characters from one of the Disney stories walk around the room and meets you at your table.    We were there during the Winnie the Pooh time.   Both children were just thrilled.   They were patient and then when it was their turn, they would jump up and go to the character, hugging him or her and grinning those infectious children grins.    I am not sure I'll forget the way my son happily hugged and romped with Eyore.

So overall, how was it?   I survived and I didn't have a break down this time.   I even had fun.   I particularly had fun watching the children have fun.   But at the heart of Disney, isn't that the point?  To have fun through the eyes of the children?

The Big Boy Update:  My son loves animals.   He watches a show about animals and their special ways of surviving in the wild named, Wild Kratts, after the Kratt brothers who host the show.  My son knew of and about more of the animals than I expected.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  We were all going on a people mover that I can't remember the name of in Magic Kingdom that goes through some of the rides in Tomorrow Land.   When we went through Space Mountain, we went into complete darkness for a while.   I said aloud, "I can't see anything."  My daughter, who was sitting happily on my lap said, "I'm right here."

Fitness Update:  Animal Kingdom is larger than The Magic Kingdom, but we must have ridden around more because we walked about a mile less at only seven miles today in the park.

Tuesday, March 24, 2015

Toes

I ran a marathon a week-and-a-half ago and had a great time doing so. The weather was superb, the company was delightful and the course was easy (read: flat as a tortilla,)  I was fine afterwards, fine later that day and even fine the days following.  I was trained up for the race and it was a joy, as opposed to a burden to run.  Well, until. The last four miles, but gee, that was just being tired.

The only side-effect was my toes.  I had to make a shoe decision before the race and of the two options, I thought I'd selects the best one.  The shoes were new though, and while I'd run in them, I hadn't run distance in them.  It turned out the toe box was either too short or two small overall and I had pressure on my longest toes, the three in the middle. 

After the race they were all quite numb, up to and through the second digit.  The numbness stayed around after the race for the remainder of the day and only now, ten days later, am I getting feeling back into the last of the six toes. 

The shoes for general purposes though are fine.  Today at Disney, I walked eight miles in complete comfort in them.   (And I didn't have a Disney meltdown, more on that tomorrow,). I have another marathon in less than three weeks. I'm going to have to get the shoe situation figured out before then because I like feeling my toes.

The Big Boy Update:  We were waiting to go into the restaurant today that featured dinner with the characters. My son was peeking in the window while we checked in.  He exclaimed, "I saw Tigger, Winey the Pooh and Piglet...but he was very far away."  My son met the characters in person when we had our chance to eat.  He was very excited about each and every one, especially Eyore (whom he met first.)

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  We were walking to the car today as we left the Magic Kingdom and the sun was long and low and in our eyes. My daughter was behind me. As I glanced down at the pavement to  avoid the sun my daughter must have been thinking the same thing because she said to me, "can I follow your legs?"

Fitness Update:  Eight miles walking today at Disney.  After running all the time, I can honestly say I never get tired walking around all day. 

Monday, March 23, 2015

Boys Need Clothes, Girls Need Outfits

Spring has arrived, or at least I think it has.   I never remember when the first day of any particular season is.   Those days never seem to match up with when the seasons start to change.   I'm guessing that's largely in part due to where I live geographically on our planet, but regardless, in my mind, it's spring.

When springtime comes (or fall, for that matter, ) I take stock of the clothes I have and usually think, "I have absolutely nothing to wear!"   This is, obviously, untrue.   I have plenty of clothes but at the start of a season I have to get my mind back into the season.   For instance, I can't imagine having to put my feet into tall, leather boots at the end of summer, but right now, sandals and flip flops seem strange and foreign.

We've been in Florida for a few days now and one of the things I'd heard about was the new outlet mall they have and how we just have to go.   My husband said he was packing less clothes because he specifically needed to get some spring wear.   So, as soon as we got here I wanted to go shopping.   Why?  Not because I was in desperate need of clothes, but I wanted one or two things—a bathing suit in particular—to help me get "into the spring of spring" as it were.

My husband and I were in the car, driving with my in-laws and I was discussing my need for that bathing suit.   My husband made the mistake of saying, "but I thought you brought bathing suits?"   My father-in-law, older and more wise in the ways of women said, "just because she has a bathing suit, it does not mean she doesn't need another one.   You should know better."

I was about to interject saying something like, "I thought you brought shirts, why do you need to buy more?" when my husband redeemed himself saying:  "I forgot.  Boys just need clothes.   Girls need 'outfits.'"

The Big Boy Update:  My son likes to go on a walk with Papa at the end of the day down here.  They live on a golf course and there are lots of things to see.   They like to go out and, "look for the crocodiles."   Do you think they know crocodiles aren't indigenous to Florida and their chances would be much better if they looked for alligators instead?

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter got a small, stuffed animal today at the store  It's purple and I think it's a dog or a cat.   When I asked my daughter what it's name was, she said, "Cannonball!"


Sunday, March 22, 2015

Incoming!

When I think of the exclamation, "incoming!" thoughts of the show M.A.S.H. from my childhood come to mind.   I get pictures of artillery raining down and/or the latest round of choppers coming to land with wounded needing medical assistance.

In practice though, I use the term all the time for entirely different reasons.   It's an all-purpose term meaning, "watch out for something coming your way."  It might be the wet cloth being hurled from the sink area to the table area with the spilled chocolate milk and the crying child.    It could be the warm sweater being sent over the bridge for the child who selected clothing too cool for the day's weather.   Or—and this one is perhaps my most common use—an incoming child in your direction.

Of all the uses, I think I like using, "incoming!" to let someone know a child is coming their way best.   I yelled it across the pool to my father-in-law today and he knew just what I meant.   He turned around in the water to see a small girl swimming his way.  A small girl who was swimming well-beyond her range, blindly expecting a responsible adult to be there to catch her.

The Big Boy and Tiny Girl, Mini-Nana Update:  My mother-in-law wears an apron when she cooks.   When we arrived in Florida two days ago, my in-laws got the children and took them to their house while we picked up the rental car.   When we arrived, Nana, my son and my daughter were all three wearing matching aprons and having a snack.   She had bought them at Williams Sonoma.   My children saw Nana wearing her apron after cooking dinner tonight and asked to have their mini-aprons put on so they could eat dinner in style too.  We joked and called them our mini-Nana's.

Fitness Update:   My husband and I biked to the store and back today.   We rode almost eight miles in what is undoubtedly the easiest biking terrain I can imagine.    My phone app told me we traversed a total elevation of thirteen feet.  It is quite flat here.

Saturday, March 21, 2015

I Want to Go to Bed

Before I get to this post, I had to look up what words should not be capitalized in a title.   There were two of the word, "to" in the above title.  I tried it both ways and I wasn't sure.   It turns out, "to" is not capitalized.   Writing this blog has taught me a lot about writing.   I never liked writing in school, now I look forward every day to my time at the computer, spewing out whatever nonsense happened in my mind or life that day.  

Back to going to bed, though.   We worked very hard to ensure our children had good sleeping habits.   We wanted them to be able to sleep in a quiet room and in one where the door was open, people were talking and loud noises were happening down the hall.   We wanted them to be comfortable in sleeping in the dark and sleeping with lights on.    And we wanted them to be able to sleep in a new place, with new bedding without a worry.  Oh, and not have a need for "lovies" or comfort items.

We have been very successful with both children.   They sleep well and easily, in all types of situations.    We are flexible with bedtime, but not strict about it when an exception needs to be made (we were up until eleven o'clock last night after arriving at Nana and Papa's house.)  My children don't take naps anymore, and that's paid back by solid sleeping without waking up in the middle of the night.

My children don't do a lot of fighting about going to sleep either.   When it's bedtime, it's time to go.  When the stories are over (or the television show,) it's time to go to sleep.   They don't get out of bed once bedtime has started and as a result, they fall asleep quickly and easily.

Because bedtime isn't a seen as a punishment, they ask to go to sleep when they're tired.   My son wanted a nap for no apparent reason in the middl of the day last week.  (My children haven't had mid-day naps for over a year.)

Today was a fun, FUN, day for the children.   They got up, had breakfast, went outside (got naked) and started to get into the pool and connected hot tub.   We got swim suits and then followed hours of pool play both before and after our lunch/Costco trip out.   The amount of splashing, swimming and going underwater would wear out three adults, but they kept going.

My daughter came in about dinner time, got some clothes on with help from my husband, sat at the counter with a snack, put her head down on the counter and fell asleep.  When dinner was served she ate a bit and then looked at us and said, "I...Want...To...Go...To...Bed."  She was so tired she couldn't be bothered to eat.   I took her to her bed and didn't even change her clothes.  

My son was tired too.  He also asked to go to bed early, although he was awake enough to want Nana to read him some stories first.

The Big Boy Update:  While we were taxing at the airport, my son saw an Air Canada plane take off. He turned to my husband and said, "there's the leaf delivery plane."  My husband explained that the red maple leaf was the symbol on the Canadian Flag.  

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  I was unaware my daughter liked country music.   At lunch today she started swaying her arms and body to the music as she say.   A few minutes later I looked over and she'd gotten out of her seat and was dancing behind our table to the country son playing on the speakers.

Friday, March 20, 2015

When Did the Clapping End?

My husband and children started our spring vacation today by flying to Florida to spend a week with my in-laws.   The first thing we did to kick-off the week was to take two flights to get to them.   From an adult standpoint, this isn't that exciting.   But to three- and four-year-old children, flying on a plane—two planes—is exciting stuff.

We had been talking about the planes for days.   My son was interested in where the rain came from and we discussed how we would fly up to the clouds where the rain formed and then fly higher so we could look down on the clouds.   We talked about getting on the plan and going down the gangway.   My daughter was interested in when we would be off the ground and both children wanted to see Nana and Papa's house as we flew to their city.

We talked about a lot of things that happened when someone takes a ride on an airplane, but I didn't talk about one thing:  the clapping.  

It didn't even occur to me until our second landing when I was telling my daughter to listen to the sound of the wheels landing.   She had been interested in the loud sound just before and we talked about how there were flaps up to help slow the plane down.    When we did land, she hardly noticed it.   I told her that was because the pilot did a very good job of setting the plane down softly.    And that's when I remembered the clapping.

When I was younger, it was a regular occurrence that the passengers on a plane would clap upon landing.   It could have been whisper-soft landing and we'd clap for the skill in which we were guided in.   It might have been a rough flight and we clapped because the pilot had brought us in safely.   Or it could be just because someone started clapping and we all joined in.    But we did it all the time.   I remember that.

I could speculate on our society and how it's moved to one of excessive bias on the customer service side or perhaps our confidence in pilots is higher, or maybe we're just too into ourselves and our digital devices and flying on a plane is a mundane and tiring way to get to a location.

I'm not sure of the reason, but I think I miss the clapping.

The Big Boy Update:  My sister had a sheet of stickers she was systematically pulling off and finding places to place today.  She handed my son a star sticker.   He looked at it and asked us, "why is my star sad?"  The star was sad; it had a sad face on it.    We weren't sure, but we found a star with a happy face on it to give to my son.    We told him maybe he could figure out the reason why.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Applying the tattoo.   My daughter found a tattoo the other day.   My mother was over, helping me fold laundry in the bedroom when we saw my daughter go to the bathroom, saying, "I have a tattoo.  I know what to do."   My mom tried to help her but she would have none of it.  She got the cloth, got up on the counter, wet the cloth, put the tattoo on her hand, held the wet cloth over it and counted until it was ready.   We looked and sure enough, she knew what to do to put a tattoo on.

Thursday, March 19, 2015

House Food

or Where Are My Cookies?

In my childhood home food wasn't designated as any particular family member's food.  If it was in the refrigerator and I wanted to drink it, I could (excepting dad's beer.)   If it was in the cabinet, I could eat it.   If someone came over and was hungry, they were welcome to anything we had to eat.   As an adult, I have that same mentality in our home.   I call it, "house food."

My children aren't old enough to be eligible for full, "house food" passes, because they're children and they would invariably eat all the wrong things while all the right things went bad in the fruit basket.   But overall, it's a good system and it works well for our family.

Several nights ago I got everything done for the day.   I got dressed for bed, got something to drink (yes, it was coffee) and opened up the freezer to find...my cookies gone.   I asked my husband, "where are my chocolate chip cookies?"   He said, "oh, I made them for Movie Night."   I complained, "you made MY cookies for our movie night friends?"   He didn't understand.

Those chocolate chip cookies come in the freezer department.  You take one, two, twelve or how ever many you want to eat and put them on a tray, stick them in a hot oven and some number of minutes later—you could ask my husband, he knows exactly how long to cook them—they're hot and delicious.   And he cooked my cookies and they were all gone! <insert hint of despair>

We'd had trouble finding them over the past months but we'd also been doing other things for movie night dessert so they'd been just sitting there in the freezer, waiting for me to pick a single one and eat it slowly, in it's frozen state, with my coffee at the end of the night while I watched a television show.

And they were all gone.   The thing is, I didn't know how much I really liked that little end of night routine until the moment I found we had no more cookies in the freezer.  House Food rules dictated that I couldn't complain, and after a few more minutes of bemoaning the lack of cookies and worrying about finding them again, I let it go.

But my husband had better not cook up the last of the frozen chocolate chip cookies again or he'll have me to contend with.

The Big Boy Update:  We ate at Sweet Tomatoes today.   My son loves their blueberry muffins.   After eating one he looked at Mimi and me and told us, "I am still blueberry muffin hungry."

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter was on the bed in her underpants this afternoon wriggling around.  My mom came over to her and patted her bottom.   My daughter said to her, with perfect intonation in her voice, "don't you EVER do that again."

Wednesday, March 18, 2015

The Last Takeout Menu

I found something in a drawer today that I had forgotten was there—a takeout menu for the Chinese restaurant we order from.   I didn't know it was there.  I don't think I've used it and I'm not sure we've brought it out for visitors (although we may have.)    It's the only takeout menu we have from a restaurant in our house.   It's probably the last one we'll have too.

Before we moved, we had a lot of menus.   When we packed up the house we threw most of them away because we didn't use them anymore.   We kept the Chinese restaurant one because we would still be ordering from them after we'd moved a mile down the road to our new home.  

Today when it's time to consider what to order from a restaurant, we don't look for a menu, we look online.

The Big Boy Update:  My son likes to ball up on his chair during meals sometimes.   We're not altogether sure why he wants to do this, but he seems to like it.    He loves watching the Transformers children's show so I wasn't surprised at all when he told me he was, "in rock mode."

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter found a necklace in her treasure chest the other day.  I asked here where she got it and she told me, "Santa gramps gave it to me."

Tuesday, March 17, 2015

The First R is for 'Reduce'

That's right, we were taught the first step to saving the planet was to 'Reduce' our impact on the planet.   There are the Reuse and Recycle options as well, but since this is about, "reducing" my blog post ever-expanding list, that's the R we're going with tonight.   Besides, who wants old reused or recycled topics?

The Weather Station Argument
Our old indoor/outdoor thermometer died recently.   The children looked at it from time to time, but they weren't that interested in it overall.   The new one I got is backlit LED and is more colorful.   It also has features like the current phase of the moon and the weather prediction for the day in graphic form.   Clouds with rain or sun or snow and lots of clouds.   Given that it's pictorial, my children can tell what the day will be like without having to read.   This caused an argument the other morning because one child was looking outside, saying it was sunny (it was) while the other child was looking at the icons and protesting quite loudly that it said sun AND clouds.

The Tooth Feels Different
I have two implant teeth in after a long wait.   At first I was taken aback by how different it felt to chew on the teeth.   There is no nerve in the tooth because the tooth and it's nerves are completely gone, but I've had teeth with root canals before and that didn't change the feel of the tooth.    I mentioned it to my father who had implants too and he said I'd get used to it.    It feels different because a natural tooth is connected to gums and there are tendons that connect the gums to the tooth.   That push and pull as the tooth does its work gives an additional level of sensation you don't get with implants that sit a bit below the gum line but aren't connected to them at all.   Sure as my father predicted though, I don't even notice the difference any more.

The amount I have to do is directly proportional to the amount I get done
This one I've known about for a long time, but I saw it in action again recently.   I went through a very busy time with the work I was doing with school, family plans, children activities and personal commitments I'd set for myself.   During those times, I was more motivated to get things done, even taking on bonus projects like organizing some such a thing because it looked like it needed to be done, than I would have been in a more quiet time.  I like to be busy, but it's good to have a balance.

Sixty-five Hours of Audio Book
The last audio book I listened to was complicated.   It was intricate.   It was about a system of maths on an alternate world-track than ours with different names for many, many things.   For the first five hours I felt like I was holding on for dear life, just trying to figure out what was happening.   By the time I was done I thought I understood the main plot line, but the intricacies that factored into that plot were eluding me.   The book was long at over thirty-two hours.   I haven't ever listened to an audio book twice in a row, but the book was so interesting in the author's environment of this alternate society that I went back to the first chapter and started over.   The second time around it was equally complex, but I was able to follow it all.   The set ups he did early on that I missed because I was confused as hell, now all made sense.   I'm glad I listened to it a second time.

Rebooting the Tesla
I don't think I mentioned this this very cool feature of our car before: you can reboot it.   You hold two buttons on the steering wheel and the screen goes off and less than a minute later it's back up.   You can even do this while driving without fear of the car not being drivable.  If you do the reboot while parked, it will reboot the driving computer portions as well.    Today I was having some bluetooth connection issues with my phone that didn't make sense.   I rebooted the phone but they persisted.   I rebooted the car and everything started working again.

SPRING!
Gosh, we're really enjoying spring.   Today it was over eighty degrees.   So nice.  

The Big Boy Update:
First Spelled Word: My son spelled his first word tonight.  He commonly will ask us what certain letters spell together, but today was the first time he put letters together to spell a word.   He asked us what, "B and E and E and E and R made?"   Of course he would spell a drunken version of an adult beverage for his first word.  

Pronunciation:  On the pronunciation front, one of his favorite big tools of all time, an excavator, has resurfaced as important in his imagination play.   He ran around the back yard with a shovel from the sand box yelling, "this is my X-uh-vay-tor!"

Swearing:  Something didn't go his way the other day and I could have sworn he said, "aww, pickles!"   Then, when my husband got home last night he came in and asked about bedtime and stories in the middle of a post-bath whirlwind in which both children had too much energy to contain and weren't listening.   I had had it and angrily said, "they're not getting stories because they've been dicking around and have run out of time."   My son immediately said, "dad, we haven't been dicking around."  My husband and I looked at each other and I followed up with a, "you two most certainly have been DUCKING around; you should have had your pajamas on ten minutes ago."   We'll see if it shows back up.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  
Sandy:   Last year my mother-in-law brought via plan a very large doll.   She stands probably four-feet tall, but since she's a thinly-stuffed plush, she was able to pack her in a carry-on bag.   My daughter loved the doll but grew tired of her after a while, like children do with all toys so I put her away.   My mother-in-law either named her Dolly or she came with that name, I'm not sure, but that's what she was always called.   Yesterday I brought Dolly back out and asked my daughter if she remembered her.   She cried out, "I love love love Sandy!"   My son also is calling her Sandy now.   It appears she got a new name over the winter.

Dragonfly Mickey:  My daughter was drawing in the sand under the swing earlier today.  Usually she just scribbles, but she's getting better.   She said to me after a minute, "it's dragonfly Mickey!"  I looked down and it actually did look like Mickey Mouse from the side with dragon wings.   I'm guessing that's not necessarily what she was going for from the start, however.


Fitness Update:  Pure Barre.   I did a Barre class today with my neighbor.   It's a room filled with ladies holding small red balls between their thighs using a ballet bar against the wall.   It sounds crazy weird, but it was a good workout.   My friend had tried it on her vacation and wanted to know if I wanted to try a class with her.   It was quite hard in addition to interesting, but I don't think it's my main exercise thing.   


Monday, March 16, 2015

Swinging Sticks

This is not what I wanted to write about today, but I'm shaking all over and I'm mad and I'm going to sit down now and write about it while it's fresh in my mind.   I hope my daughter will be fine with her two friends outside unsupervised while I write this.   My son, on the other hand, had better stay in his room or there will be consequences that I don't want to mention here for fear someone would call Child Protective Services on me

We have two children, a boy and a girl.   We have the same expectations for both of them, even though my daughter is eleven-months younger.  I know the sayings including, "boys will be boys" and "girls are sugar and spice" but my son baffles me.

Boys have a need to be physical and my son definitely has that need.   He seems to have what I would call, "poor impulse control" coupled with a desire to tell everyone what to do and always get his way. It looks like aggression and I fear other parents are going to think we don't discipline him at home or that he has behavioral problems.   Bottom line, he can just be mean.

This afternoon his two friends came over to play when they saw the small bounce house we have in the back yard.  I had asked my son if he could help me and that the help would involve a hammer.   He dropped everything and came straight away.  My husband handed him the mallet from the garage and we went outside.   He spent time hammering the play house, the slide, a swing and then he pulverized the blue, plastic, twelve-dollar pool by hammering it while it was upside-down.  (The pool should be fine, those things can take a serious beating.)

When I got it all in place, we turned on the bounce house and I asked my son to help hammer in the four stakes to keep it in place.    He helped me and did a careful, thoughtful job of the task, not hammering them in too far.   I told him he couldn't use the hammer if he got it near anyone's body.   He tried with it, but swinging it around to do "work" but that was a little to much in the small space so I took it away.

I went inside, expecting the four children to play happily together for a while.   I look up only moments later to see my daughter trying to get away from my son around the brick column.   I saw him haul back with a large stick and swing it at her head, missing her only because he hit the brick and she dodged.   She screamed as he prepared to swing from the other direction and I ran out of the house screaming at him.

The words, "bloody murder" come to mind, because I was so upset.    I'm pretty sure he didn't want her to turn off the bounce house again (she likes to do that) and decided a reasonable response to such an affront was to try and physically harm her.

He ran.  He ran fast.   I ran faster and grabbed his shirt collar.   I dragged him inside the house, screaming and not giving a damn if a neighbor heard me.   I shoved him and he ran up the stairs.   I yelled at him and told him did he like it when someone bullied him (and then I shoved him down.)  I asked him if he was scared and he said, "yes."  I said he'd better run to his room then because I might get a stick and try to hit him with it.  I asked him if he though a stick swung at his face would feel good?   Would a bleeding face from a stick be something he thought he would like?   (I shoved him down again.)   He got to his room and I told him he was not invited out until dinner time and I would let him know when that was.

He was mad.   He was very angry he wasn't allowed to go back outside.   My daughter came in about that point and wanted to know if they could have snack.   I ignored my son, which he hated.   He yelled at me to answer his questions and I continued to ignore him.   I helped my daughter get some strawberries to go back outside and share with her friends.   He bellowed.   He wailed.   I informed him again that he would not be going back outside today.

There were more interruptions from my daughter and their friends.   I told them (within earshot of my son) that he was in trouble and would not be coming back outside.   I sent them back out with bananas.   My son miserably complained that he was missing all the fun.   I told him I was sure tomorrow he would remember to be kind to his friends.   I also told him friends don't have fun together by trying to hurt each other.

I later asked Keira if she had seen what happened (she's eight.)  She said he was trying to hit her with the stick and that before I came out he'd pushed her head into the brick wall.   I short while later Keira's mother called to request her children be sent home.  I asked her if she'd heard me screaming around the neighborhood and she said she hadn't.    We talked about the situation for a few minutes and she told me of some similar things they'd had to contend with with her older child, Keira, who is the more physically aggressive of their two children.

The good news is, my son is miserable he's missing out on playing with his friends, which hopefully will be a deterrent and a lesson.   The second good news is he's been staying in his room and not defying me, even though I'm two floors away.   Hopefully today was a good lesson-learning day.

The Big Boy Update:  Per above, my son tried to hit my daughter with a stick.   There have been consequences.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter had an eye exam today at the hospital under anesthesia.   It was a lot of hoopla just for a bit of anesthesia.   The good news is her vision doesn't need corrective lenses.   She has some artifacts in her eyes as a result of her development and growth that may be attributing to her vision, but that will hopefully improve as she matures.

Fitness Update:  I don't really feel bad at all today after the marathon.  I'm not sore or tired.   I can't feel bits of my toes still, but that was a shoe issue, not a training one.

Sunday, March 15, 2015

Tobacco Trail

I ran the Tobacco Trail marathon today.   I've run five marathon-distance runs now, this being the fifth one and my second race.   I wasn't racing, but unlike my first marathon, I had fun.

Uncle Jonathan, my neighbor and I were in the race.   We had a parking calamity at the beginning due to unclear instructions, but after the police officer told us to follow the busses, we got to our up-close, reserved space by 5:40AM.    We ate, drank and put on our final gear before leaving the car to visit the bathroom one last time before the race start.

My neighbor and I were planning on running together.   Uncle Jonathan was going for his best race time.   The course is in the woods with the trail part being a half paved and half packed trail.   The scenery was beautiful in the woods, it was quiet and even though there were over four-thousand runners, it didn't feel cramped or packed.

The course layout was such that we'd see Uncle Jonathan two times as he passed us, sprinting ahead like a gazelle with a ball cap on towards the finish line.    We cheered when he went past and then resumed our chatting and running.

There was hydration and food/Gu every two miles and bathrooms at reasonable intervals.    I drank at every stop and ate quite a lot by the time we finished.    I felt great, aside from my feet which were hurting a good deal.

I'd been debating on shoes for the race.   My old street shoes were good on trails, but were way past the three-hundred mile running life.   I had a newer pair of Hokas, but there was a blistering problem with one foot after I got over five miles so I ruled them out.   I settled on a new pair of the same model street shoe I'd purchased.    I spent about a week wearing them everywhere and doing some short runs in them.

They did a good job, but I think with the total distance I still have some bruised toes.  They weren't quite the same fit as my prior pair I'm guessing.   Hopefully the feeling will come back into a few of my toes by tomorrow.   But hey, if that's the only thing I have to complain about with the race, I'm doing great.

I did feel good throughout the entire race aside from the end, when we all were very tired.  The last four miles were rough.    At about twenty-five miles we were back on the streets, having left the trail, and heading towards the finish line.   For some reason, perhaps like being overly tired, I tripped on one of the orange cones lining the road.   I fell straight forward, threw my hands out and slammed the palms of my hands down on the street.   Then—and I'm telling you this because I was told what happened from someone else—I rolled like a cat and landed back on my feet.

I yelled out, "I'm okay" and kept running.   I was dazed and my hands stung, but from looking at them, there was no damage.   They didn't drag along the pavement, they just hit heavily at one point and I rolled sideways.    I have very little memory of much other than trying not to get the other tired runners involved and keep plodding on to the finish line.  I can't even tell I fell on my hands as I look at them now.

Uncle Jonathan met his race goal time of 3:28 with a pace of 7:58.   My neighbor and I made our best time at 4:51 with a pace of 11:08.

The Big Boy Update:  We're at lunch on Friday and I'm in a booth sitting beside my son.   He suddenly says to me, "hold this french fry."  I take it and he says, "feed me" and opens his mouth.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter came out from school the other day and the teacher leaned over to whisper something to me as she was helping my daughter into the car.  She told me the order had been confused when my daughter was changing pants.   She had Hello Kitty underpants nicely pulled up over her corduroy pants.

Fitness Update:  Tobacco Trail Marathon today.   Uncle Jonathan, my neighbor and I all beat our best times.

Saturday, March 14, 2015

The After Thought

Or, "What Was I Thinking?"

I've had this blog post title in my list for some time.   I put it there and knew I wouldn't be able to write about it until I was ready to.   It's not an easy one and I needed to process it before I could write it down.   

Sometime back at the end of last summer I decided to stop drinking alcohol.   I'd been doing this month on and month off of drinking thing for a while and it worked in that for a whole month at a time I wasn't drinking any alcohol, but when the month was over, there were just too many reasons  to drink and I was just drinking too much.  

Alcohol seems to to be part of our social environment in so many situations.   There's a school event on the weekend or a holiday party or a barbecue out back at a neighbors house or a Halloween adult beverage competition.   There were  Friday nights at the fire pit, birthday parties, dinner out with friends, an impromptu snow day happy hour next door or any and all afternoons at the pool during the summer with neighbors.    There are more, those just come to mind. 

Suffice it to say, there were more days in which there was a socially acceptable reason to drink than there were otherwise.   There was peer pressure too.   Someone found a new beer and you should try it.   There are margaritas made from scratch, would you like one?  And, "what do you mean, you're not drinking?"  No one was looking down on me for not drinking, it just seemed there was a lot of incredulity that I would pass up an opportunity to drink alcohol when there was one. 

And that was the problem, I wasn't passing up on any of those opportunities.   Toddlers are wonderful, happy, infuriating little creatures that suck the energy out of you on a daily basis.  I love my job as mom, but all the mothers I know think a glass of wine sure takes the toddler edge off.  

So that's the preamble.   The story and reason I haven't written about this in almost seven months is that sometime back at the end of the summer, I woke up one morning and was still drunk.   Well, maybe not drunk, but I sure as hell wasn't sober.     I had two children that needed to get to school and I couldn't do it.   I felt awful.   I told my husband he'd have to do it all and I was sorry.    

He did everything including and up to when he left to go out of town later that day.   I still felt so bad I stuck the kids in front of the television until bedtime and finally felt normal the next morning. 

It was a bad night and one I don't even remember why I needed to drink alcohol to enjoy.    That morning, feeling like, "hell warmed over" as my mother says, I told myself I'd best stop, because, hell, what was I thinking?  

I did stop drinking and haven't been upset about it at all since that day.   I didn't explain things to people for a while because, truthfully, I was upset at myself and I was still working through it.    But it's easier all around socially like this.   It's hard to say, "I don't feel like joining you in a glass of wine tonight so you're going to have to drink on your own."   You don't have to feel pressured because the other person doesn't want to have to finish a bottle of wine themselves.    I just say "I stopped drinking."   People are usually interested and I say, "I woke up one day still drunk and I realized I needed to stop."   That usually ends the conversation.   

I don't think I was an alcoholic, I didn't exhibit the classic signs, but I do think I was drinking too much and when I did drink, I drank more than I needed to.   

It's been mostly a relief not drinking.   At some point I'm sure I'll have a glass of wine or cocktail or beer with friends over dinner, but I'm not in a hurry to make that decision right now.

The Big Boy Update:  We just drove over to Uncle Jonathan's house that he moved into last month.   As my husband backed in with the windows rolled down, my son looked out and said, "it's beautiful here."

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  This morning my daughter and I were dancing to some music while we did the laundry together.   My daughter looked up and said, "mom, maybe I need two sticks and a drum."

The Pack In The Calories Update:  I've decided I hate the pre-race day gorge-fest.   I need to eat a lot, but I get overly full and uncomfortable.   It's not as fun as it sounds like it would be.  Marathon tomorrow.   I'm looking forward to it.

Friday, March 13, 2015

007

Our car can do many amazing things.   Our children call it, "The Awesome Car" and truth be told, we were really in awe of the car when we first got it.    And after nine months of owning our Tesla Model S car, it still has some surprises for us.

At the top middle of the touch screen there is the Tesla Motors T.  I knew you could put your finger on the logo and after a few seconds a pop-up would appear, asking you to enter a maintenance code.   These codes are for the service center or other authorized Tesla representative.

The other day my husband came home and said, "can you come out to the car for a minute?"   He said it in that way that means, "you need to see this."  I was worried there was a scratch or ding or something.   I cautiously went outside to find my husband saying, "get in the car and look at the screen.  He had up the settings page for the car and instead of a picture of our black Model S, our car had been digitally transformed to James Bond's submarine car from The Spy Who Loved Me.


Our car's suspension now listed Depth in Leagues, going down to (what else) 20,000.   I looked at my husband and asked, "how?"   He said, "you enter 007 as the maintenance code."

The addition of this fun feature was related to Tesla Motor's founder, Elon Musk's purchase of the original James Bond Underwater Lotus Esprit car from the movie.    It's nice to have unexpected, fun features in our car from time to time.   I like how the people at Tesla Motors have a sense of whimsy.

The Big Boy Update:  My son said to my husband in the car today, "did you marry my mom?"  My husband, "yes."  My son, "what did you give her?"   After a few seconds he said, "A ring?"  Then he said, "did I come after that?"   We told him yes, wondering if he was going to ask how next.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter went to the bathroom completely by herself at lunch the other day.   She asked if she could go and when I said yes, she headed across the restaurant to the bathroom.   A few minutes later she came back, sat down and resumed eating.   She's small, the door was heavy and she still needs to balance on the toilet.   Also, she can't successfully close and latch a stall door.   But she did it all by herself.   

Fitness Update:  Packet pickup was today for the marathon on Sunday.   Tomorrow I plan on eating all day.

Thursday, March 12, 2015

The Email Test

Today was a test of my patience.   There was a lot going on with moving over email domains and settings and my parents computers and my computer got involved and, well, there is too much to explain so I will sum up:  it is not over.  

It's not done.   Software these days does some pretty incredible stuff—just ask the twenty-year-old version of me—but it still has to be coerced to all work well together.   And we don't just care about working these days.   We want it to work well, work exactly like we think it should work and give us a jelly donut to eat while we work.     That's just how high our expectations are these days.

I'm going to bed.

The Big Boy Update:  My son can get in his car seat and stand on his head.   He can balance in the car seat with his legs in the air over the back of the car seat.    He just figured out how to do this today.   I was fairly impressed.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Tomorrow morning we're taking my daughter to the plastic surgeon to have her chin scar checked.   It was six months ago that she fell on her bike from going down a hill too quickly and needed ten stitches.    When I told her where we were going she said, "I'm going to go slow on my bike.   My green bike."  I didn't realize she remembered what caused the incident but she remembered the scar and the green bike.

Fitness Update:  Three miles and our last exercise before the marathon on Sunday.  Now I just get to be lazy and eat a lot for two days.

Wednesday, March 11, 2015

Springy Park Day

I got up at six o'clock and it was sixty-four degrees.   CRAZY.   I didn't even remember what to wear in warm weather.   I forgot what it was like to run without gloves on.  

After a short run we got the children ready to go to school and they were confused too.   They picked out warm clothes, but they didn't have shorts and short-sleeved shirts in their drawers, so they did the best they could.

After school, my mother and I got food from a restaurant near a popular park.   The children were excited because they love this big park.   They even forgot they were hungry.   We got there, parked and walked to the pond with the geese and pulled out lunch.    They hardly ate because geese are far more exciting than food.

We spent several hours riding the small train, playing in the sand (I have a video of the two of them making sand angles) and playing on various parts of the park.    

We ended the afternoon with popsicles, lemonade and headed to the car just before some afternoon rain arrived.  

Tomorrow I think it will be in the forties, but we had fun today in the spring weather.

The Big Boy Update:  My son asked me, "how do people get inside the TV?"   At the time, I was on the phone with my mother.   I told her maybe she'd better come on over and field my son's latest question.    (She did.)

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  First solo ostrich ride.   My daughter is over forty-two inches tall and, as such, is eligible to ride the merry go round without an adult.   I hardly had to ask because I don't think she really wanted me standing beside her.   I helped her up on her animal of choice and walked out to the exit area.   She did the wave and grin/laugh thing small children do when they're overcome with an amazing amount of happiness.   I did the stupid looking parent waving with exaggerated gestures on the side while she went round and round.

Fitness Update:  Four miles this morning.   Another short run.   I wore my new running shoes to see if all the walking in them has worked them in well.   My toes fell asleep, which happens on long runs...only this was a short run and it was sixty-four degrees.   Now I my choice of footwear to wear for the marathon has become even more of a conundrum.

Tuesday, March 10, 2015

Broken or Buildup?

Our master bath has these fixtures by Mirabel.   I remember when we were selecting things during the build phase of our house, we liked them and decided to go with them even though they were more than some of the other brands.   I also remember going back at a later point and selecting the towel rods and other pieces and being surprised at the very high cost for the matching Mirabel items.  

The sales person we worked with said something that stuck in my memory.   She said, "Mirabel feels very highly about their products."   We found much less expensive but still good quality alternatives.   At this point after over four years, I've been happy with all the options we selected...with the exception of one.  

The "waterfall" faucet for the master tub seemed to have an issue that the special, hard to match rust-like metal finish was coming off on a spot just at the end of the faucet.   This area was coincidentally where a small bit of water would sit.   The incline was such on the faucet that it wasn't angled enough for those last drops to drain off, so they would wait to evaporate away.

Now about that area, there was this white edging to it.   The white edging matched the small pool of water area and I was worried the special, expensive coloring of that Mirabel faucet was compromised from all the standing water droplets after each time the children or I used the tub.  

I messed with it with my fingernail.  I scrubbed it with a Magic Eraser.   I washed it with some detergent.   I put CLR on top of it and let it sit.    Nothing worked.   I got my loupe out and looked at it up close.   I didn't want to mess with it too aggressively because if the faucet were damaged already and I used something too corrosive or rough, I could damage it more.    But was it damage or just buildup?

I've been doing a test for several months now.   After the tub has been used each time, I wipe away the excess water.   If it's buildup, then the situation shouldn't get worse.   Over time, not only did the white area not get worse, it got smaller.  

So today, I got a little scraper thing out and gently scraped at the metal, hoping I wasn't about to bust through a protective metal layer, making my expensive Mirabel faucet look worse.    I scratched and the white came off.   It came off and it didn't damage the faucet.    It wasn't damaged all along, it was just stubborn build-up.      

Now I can go back to thinking highly about that Mirabel faucet, knowing it was minerals in the water and not the faucet's fault at all.

The Big Boy Update:  We went to the large creek across in the park today.   Keeping clothes on my children in the over seventy degree weather was a challenge, but I managed to keep them in their underwear at least.   The remainder of their clothing was muddy, sandy and drenched.   When it was time to go I told my son to bring his clothes back to the stroller so we could go home.   He told me, "I want to bring home Mister Rock, mom."   We now have a huge, apparently male, rock in our yard.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  On the way home from lunch today:  "can you open the window?  My butt hurts."  My husband after opening the window, "does your butt feel better now?"  My daughter, "yes."  And while standalone, that makes for quite the humorous story, there was a reason behind her request.   My son has a tendency to feel carsick.   When he does, I roll down the window and tell him to take some deep breaths.   My daughter did extrapolation on that principal today.  

Fitness Update:  We ran a 5K today and improved our time a bit.   It's strange only running three miles.    So strange to be done just when you've gotten started.

Monday, March 9, 2015

The Taco Bell Dinner

I love Taco Bell.   I have loved Taco Bell for as long as I can remember.   I remember being in junior high school and going to gymnastics six-days each week.   Taco Bell was on the way home from gymnastics and sometimes my mother or the other mother that drove us there and back would take us there to eat.    I remember menu items that haven't been available in a long, long time.   I can picture the long line that would zig-zag back and forth in the restaurant and our slow progression up to the front to get our amazing food.   I thought then, back in the early 1980's, that if I had money to invest, I would put it into this masterpiece of a restaurant called Taco Bell.

I still love Taco Bell.   My husband does not...at all.   He tried to eat there once and that disaster is a story in and of itself but suffice it to say, he doesn't go to Taco Bell.    As a result, I don't go to Taco Bell as much now as I used to before I was married and had children.  

Uncle Jonathan loves Taco Bell.   He goes all the time.   He isn't married to someone who dislikes Taco Bell and he doesn't have children that get in the way of solo drive-through trips there.    Some days, I am envious.      Today, however, Uncle Jonathan and I had a plan: we'd take the children to Taco Bell and my husband could have a nice dinner of his choosing while we were gone.  

It was a good plan.   My husband was fine with it and when dinner time came around, he helped get the children ready and off we went.    On the way, my daughter fell asleep.   Before we got there, my son fell asleep.   Damn.   Okay, we can do this.   It's early, waking them up won't be a problem, even if they complain (loudly) because the restaurant will most likely be empty.  

There was complaining (my daughter) and the restaurant was mostly empty.  My son refused to wake up and spent the entire meal asleep on the hard booth bench of the restaurant.   My daughter was unhappy about, well, everything.   She was in terrible, horrible, desperate need of calories.    We ordered, got drinks (more wailing because the green button did not produce green liquid in her cup) and sat down.

Or rather we tried to sit down.   My daughter wanted to sit with me.   I was sitting on the side with my laid out son.  I had bent his legs up, placed my purse on his chest and my daughter's jacket over his knees (he was seriously out) and had just enough room to sit on the end of the bench.   But no, "NO....NOOOOOO," my daughter did not want to sit on the other side of the both.  

Sigh, fine.   I moved my son over some more, hitting his head on the wall-side of the bench (he didn't even notice I'd moved him) and made room for her to sit.    Where was the spoon?   She needed a fork.   This wasn't the drink she wanted.   She needed a plate.   She didn't want a quesadilla or nachos.   If you've spent time around children, you can imagine what we were dealing with.  

She ate a nacho.   She chewed on some quesadilla.   She drank some of the non-green drink.   She suddenly became happy.  Hooray for calories.   She started eating the nachos with enthusiasm.  Enthusiasm that resulting in cheese, beans and sour cream all over her shirt, pants and face...all of her face.   But she was happy.    She got out in the aisle at one point and asked me to take a picture of her while she sang and danced to some song she may or may not have made up (that part was unclear.)

My son slept.   He slept until I picked him up after the meal was cleared away from the table.   He groggily got back into the car and calmly went home without a complaint at all.  

It would appear that we may have passed down our preferences for or against Taco Bell to our children.   My daughter loved it.   My son strategically avoided it.    I'm not convinced it was a fair test though as my son had had a busy day.   Uncle Jonathan, are you up for another go taking the kids to Taco Bell with me in the future?

The Big Boy Update:  Dylan (eleven-years-old) was helping out with the children's bath at movie night.   She told my son it was time to put on his pajamas.   My son said very matter-of-factly, "we call them 'night nights.'"  I do not know why I called them that when my son was very tiny, but I did and now that's what my children call them.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter came into the bathroom and told me, "I need a bandaid for my nose because my nose hurts."   She got a bandaid, opened it (she is very good at opening bandages) and put it straight over her nose, covering up two-thirds of her nostrils.  

Sunday, March 8, 2015

The Pool is Open

It has been cold.   It's been icy.   There have been power outages.    Today, however, the pool was apparently and unexpectedly opened at our house.   Let me explain...

Today the weather changed from winter to spring, with a front of warm air coming in coupled with a cloudless, sunny day that resulted in everyone heading outside to enjoy the weather.     I had suggested to my children that Rayan and Keira might want to play outside.   I suggested they get dressed and I would check with their friend's mother.    My suggestions didn't get me anywhere until I saw Rayan and Keira standing in our back yard.

My son dashed onto the deck to tell them all sorts of things while he stood in his pajamas.   My daughter, however, wasted no time and got her clothes and shoes on and headed out the front door to the back yard.   My son, seeing his sister outside, ran in and did the same.    After that, I had a quiet house in which I could get all sorts of things accomplished.    The children played happily and harmoniously for a while and then my son dashed in the back door saying something about needing the slide.

I didn't know what he was talking about until a few minutes later when I looked out to the back yard. He had gone to the basement, opened the mechanical room door and then dragged out the plastic blue swimming pool from last summer.    This is a twelve dollar pools from Wal*Mart that was well-used last summer and now sported duct tape in spots to plug up leaks.  

My son had taken it to the back yard and put it at the bottom of the slide.   He had gotten the hose, turned it on and was filling the pool up.   My daughter had removed all her clothes and was running around the back yard flapping her hands and squealing with delight.  

My son took off his clothes and splashed into the cold, cold pool water and laughed.    My daughter climbed the steps on the play structure and debated sliding into the pool.    I had come downstairs and pulled out my phone to record the mayhem.    It felt glorious outside.  

I called the other children's mother to tell them there was water in play and her children were going to get wet in short order.   She came over and had the good idea to suggest bathing suits.   I sent out suits and brought some sunscreen.   Then, I phoned my other neighbor, the one who loves to see children being their innocent little children-selves and said she should come out to see the, "nakie nakie" that was happening.  

My husband got in on the action, making a new crucible out of our fire extinguisher and then melting dozens of aluminum cans in his self-made forge in the back yard.    The children had snacks, fruit and quesadillas from the other mother and me as the afternoon wore on.   They made "lemonade" by squeezing some oranges on their back porch and then they laid on their towels in the back yard before getting into more fun with the slide, the pool and the water.

We all agreed this was the life and hoped for more spring days in the near future.

The Big Boy Update:  Cleaning up the table.   My daughter loves to help cook.   Getting her to not help cook is more of a trick.  My son is more interested in trucks or robots or anything other than helping in the food preparation area.   We decided he needed to help in some way, so last night he brought all the dishes to the kitchen after dinner.   He was quite helpful and did a careful job of taking all the adult plates in addition to their plastic ones.    This may become his regular job, he did it so well.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter came downstairs to see me before she went up to bed tonight.   I didn't have many lights on and as I walked her back up the darkened stairs she said, "my shadow is gone when it's dark."

Saturday, March 7, 2015

Tangled

I had a flashback to my childhood this morning.   I had gotten in from an eleven-mile run in cold weather.   I had put my hair back and worn a hat.  With the sweating and the running and the bouncing about of my hair with the hat two things happened: first, the ends of my hair froze with visible moisture on them and second, there was a huge knot that developed from the entire situation.

I didn't know there was a knot for a while.   I got in, washed my hair and then I tried to brush it.   That's when I discovered the mess.   It was big; I don't remember a knot in my hair that big since I've been an adult.   Suddenly, I remembered being a child and having my mother tell me I was going to have to get the knots out of my hair.    That's right, I said knots, not knot.

My hair was probably about shoulder-length and I was old enough to take care of my hair on my own.   I think I would try to go days without brushing it (or thoroughly brushing it) and at some point my mother had had enough and told me to brush them out.  

I remember being rough with the brush, trying to get the knots out with sheer force, most likely making them more knotted in the process.     I think I resorted to scissors on more than one occasion.

Today, I stood and worked to get the knot out without damaging the hair and remembered me decades ago doing the same thing in the mirror in the bathroom where I grew up.  

The Big Boy Update:  "I'm going to suck your blood!"  My son told me this tonight before bath.   Normally, I would have been alarmed at such a strange and violent statement.   Tonight though, I just grabbed him and threw him on the bed, telling him he'd have to catch me first.    He had just finished watching an episode of Wild Kratts, in which the Kratt brothers teach the watchers about mosquitos.   A few minutes later, my son went over in a corner and told me he was laying eggs.  

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter made our salad for dinner tonight.  She peeled and sliced the cucumber, cut up the peppers, selected bowls for us and then added lettuce and the items she'd cut up into each bowl.   It was very good salad, we all ate our whole bowls.

Fitness Update:   Eleven miles today and the last run before the marathon this coming Sunday.

Friday, March 6, 2015

The Black Dress Story

I've heard my mother tell many stories over my life.  Some of them, such as the one where she knew which baby was hers in the nursery at the hospital because I was the one sucking my thumb, jumping up and down on the bed, I heard over and over.    The other evening, I heard a story from my mother's past I'd never heard before.

She taught high school math for a number of years before I was born—and before she met my father as well—at a high school in the city she (and I) still live in.    She told us she waited until test days to wear her black dresses.   She didn't immediately tell us why.   Thoughts of her wearing "mourning wear," because she was just one of those terribly difficult teachers in school, crossed my mind.   By my mother is not that type.

She said she had one student come up to her one day who had figured out the reason.   She said, "Ms. Fulmer, do you wear black only on test days because it's the only time you won't get chalk from the chalk board all over your dress?"    Sure enough, that was the reason.

There were chalkboards throughout my entire primary school days and into high school.   I don't know that I ever looked at the color of my teacher's clothing and considered how all the chalk board work must have factored into their outfits.

Forty-five years and there are still new stories to be told.   Perhaps I won't run out of things to say with this blog after all...

The Big Boy Update:  My son mentioned Pahmer in passing to his sister at dinner.  I asked him if Pahmer lived in our neighborhood.  He said, "Pahmer lives in our house.  He's small as a mouse.  I don't think you can see him."

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter knows there are juice boxes in the garage refrigerator.   She's not invited to go and get one whenever she pleases.   Sometimes she likes to open the door and get one, "ready" for when it's time to have a juice box.   One time, she even put the straw in the juice box.   She said she didn't drink any of it, but I wasn't so sure.

Thursday, March 5, 2015

Keeping On the Cap

Have you ever done something and not known exactly why you do it?   Then, you think about it and  realize it makes no sense to do it that way?   Now, armed with your new sense of enlightenment about this thing you're doing, surely you'll do it differently, only instead you just keep doing it the same old way?

So, I've got this thing...

A while back I got a product to put into my hair after washing it.   It was a spray bottle with a cap.  I put it in the drawer and every time I washed my hair I would pull out the bottle, take off the cap, spray some into my hair, put the cap back on and put it back in the drawer.

After about a month I got to wondering why I kept the cap around because the bottle wasn't in real need of the cap while it sat in the drawer.    I decided I'd throw away the cap the next time I used the bottle...only I didn't.    Then I decided I might need the cap in the case I did some traveling and needed to take the bottle with me.   Surely, that's the reason I haven't thrown it away and why I diligently take it off and put it back on each morning.

But I also knew I had a second bottle of that spray because they were on clearance when I bought them.    If there was a traveling situation in which I needed to make sure that bottle was capped, I could open the next drawer down and get the cap off that second bottle.

And yet I haven't thrown the cap away yet.

There is another spray bottle we got at Christmas from my brother-in-law.   If you haven't heard about  Poopourri, check out the video on YouTube, it's not only funny, the product absolutely works.   This little bottle sits on the back of the toilet months after Christmas and it still has its cap on.   In this case, both my husband and I are involved with this bottle.

And yet there the bottle sits, its cap remaining.

Maybe this blog post will be the impetus I need to get over the fact that just because "that's where the cap goes" does not necessarily mean, "the cap still needs to go there."

It's a bit like screwing the cap back on a bottle right before you put it into the recycle container or taking the keys out of the rental car no matter how many signs tell you to leave them there.   Putting the cap back on is just what you do when you're done using the bottle.

The Big Boy Update:  My son wanted to play "hit ball" today.   This is a game a lot like the famous dodge ball game, only my son just wants to take turns running up to you and hitting you with the ball.    As we were at an indoor trampoline park and the balls were foam, we all played along and laughed with him.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter got a stomach ache the other day at dinner.   This is very unusual for her and I'm glad it did't turn out she was ill or coming down with something.   What was interesting though was what she did.  She curled up on her arms and knees on the wooden chair because she said the position made her feel better.   A few minutes later, I noticed she was asleep.

Fitness Update:   I went to the gym today.   I talked to the trainer about seeing two orthopedic neurosurgeons and getting the go-ahead from both of them to exercise with no restrictions.  I still have physical limitations, but it's good to know I'm not in danger of injuring myself from specific types of exercise.


Wednesday, March 4, 2015

You Can Clean It Up

We have had a rash of messy pants of late.  My daughter still wets hers some days and other days doesn't wet them at all.  We had her parent/teacher conference today and we all think it's focus-related and no one is particularly concerned.   My son, on the other hand, is having another kind of problem.

We think he's not wanting to go to the bathroom when he has to go.  He's holding it in and has been having streaked underpants as a result.   He's not constipated (one of our first concerns.)   I thought it was the removal of the little potty, so I put that back out, but that's not it either.   He just doesn't want to go when he has to go.

Today, when we got home from dinner I told my husband I was going to let him clean it up and to give me some leeway on this one.    I explained to my son that dad and I were tired of cleaning up his underpants so from now on, when he messed them up, he could clean them himself.  

He was mad.   He didn't want to clean it up.   The mess that was in his pants was going to get messier I predicted.   I prepared to cringe because instead of helping him out of his shoes and pants carefully, he was going to do it all himself and his little messy bottom was going to sit on the tiled floor in the bathroom and I was going to bite my lip and hold firm to my resolve.  

He was angry.  He threatened to put the poop on the wall.   I explained that might go very badly indeed for him if he chose to do so.  Thankfully, he didn't follow-through on the threat.    He tried to clean it up with his pants and smeared it around some.   He wasn't listening to me and there was wailing happening.

When he did listen, I talked him through everything.   He wanted to be done but after he got himself cleaned up, which turned out to be one of the best lessons in wiping he's probably ever had, he then had to work on the floor.    When all that was done he got on clean underpants.   He thought it was over.   It wasn't.

He had to follow me into the laundry room and wash out his dirty clothes.   Normally, this would have only been underpants, but since he was in such a state of despair at the whole prospect of having to clean up after himself, he got it on his socks and pants as well.    I showed him how to clean the underpants.   And that's when the lesson lost a bit of it's punishment.

He liked cleaning the underpants.   It was fun playing in water.    When he was done with that he started in on the pants and thought that was more fun.    I had to curtail the washing out process for fear of another water mess all over the laundry room.   That, and his sister very much wanted to help. The punishment was becoming less of a punishment and more of a fun activity.

I talked to him at the end and told him from now on, he could clean up after himself when he messed his pants up.     We'll see if the lesson worked.

The Big Boy Update:  See above for the messy pants cleaning up lesson.   My son told me at one point he was going to keep all the poop in his body and never go again so he didn't have to clean it up.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  If you ask my daughter how old she is right now, she'll tell you she's sixteen.   She's been sixteen for almost a week.

Fitness Update:  Nine miles around the neighborhood in the dark this morning.   My foot has a cramping part left-over from the marathon-length run on Monday that prevented me from wearing my main running shoes.   Hopefully the cramping and inflammation will be better in a day or two.

Tuesday, March 3, 2015

Child Swap

My neighbor and I are discovering how useful the, "child swap" option is these days.   Her daughter and my daughter like to play together.   When they're together at one or the other houses, they play together happily and need little to no intervention by an adult.  

We've also discovered our boys like to play together too.   Her son is half the age of my four-year-old, but even at two, he loves to play with my son.     They like to be rough and play jump on each other.   The girls do more gentle things that commonly involved babies, which my neighbor's daughter is obsessed with.  

We've done partial swaps, but today we did our first full swap.   My daughter went there and her son came here.   Her son lasted twenty minutes, which for him was a great success.   When he was done he repeatedly called out "mama" and I took him home.

My son loved it.  My daughter was so happy.    When I took her son home I asked her if she wanted me to get my daughter from upstairs at her house.   She said, "please, no, let her stay."

We all love our family members, but sometimes we need a break from each other to go play with someone else.

The Big Boy Update:  My son has taken to calling his father, "da da" instead of, "daddy" of late.   We're not sure why and today we decided to ask him.   My husband asked him, "what do you call me?"  To which my son replied, "bread maker."

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:   My husband put on an end-of-night show for the children.  My daughter came downstairs where I was working on the computer to talk to me.   Apparently the show on wasn't, "her favorite."   She told me she had really wanted to watch Winnie Bah Pooh.

Monday, March 2, 2015

Marathon Madness

Uncle Jonathan and I ran a marathon distance run today to prepare for the marathon race we'll be in on the fifteenth of the month.   It turned out to be an adventure that left us exhausted at the end.

To start out, we've had snow here.   Today was getting quite warm so we hoped the trails would be melted enough to run on.   We left shortly before ten o'clock and went into the trails.   They weren't runable.   You could run in them, and we did for a little over a mile, but it wasn't something you wanted to do.   It was slushy and icy and there were pools of water and it was a mental drain to run on it.  You had to change your running style to make sure you were placing your feet safely so you didn't slip.    As soon as we got to the first intersection, we headed out of the park.

We didn't want to run on pavement, but we ended up running everything but about three miles on pavement.  We changed plans and headed to Uncle Jonathan's house.   We've never measured the run distance and it turns out to be four-and-a-half miles via the park and greenway routes.

We dropped off hats, gloves and I even left my shirt, running in my fitness bra for the remainder of the trip.   We didn't have keys to get into Uncle Jonathan's house on us so we ran a block to our running friends office and used their bathroom and water fountains.    Then we headed to the children's school via the art museum paths.  We'd never measured that either and it turns out to be a two mile distance via greenways and sidewalks.

We headed away to more greenway via the college campus and ran into downed trees.    We had run over branches in the park, but not downed trees that required clambering over.    There were large sections of more snow/ice/slush/puddle combination we ran through.   I looked at the time at that point and called my husband.   I asked him if he could bring my Body Glide in the car when he picked up the children.   I was getting some chafing on my arms due to the lack of shirt and the Body Glide would help.

We ran on some sidewalks and then up to the Whole Foods right by the school.   We did another bathroom/water break and realized we were well ahead of schedule to meet my husband.    I called him back, telling him we were running in his driving direction and to look for us.   We met him just before we met back up with another greenway entrance.   At this point our shoes were drenched again from a long section of snow-covered sidewalks.

I body glided my arms and chest, trying not to flash the car that passed by.   We headed back onto the trail and had a long stretch with almost no snow—but there were more downed trees.   We went over one or two and then went under a larger one.

We arrived at a junction of the trails that conveniently had a McDonald's at the intersection so we went in for water.  We didn't have any money on us so we went into the bathrooms.   Uncle Jonathan filled up his water bottle and I just drank out of the sink with my hands.    We noticed both Whole Foods and McDonald's had nice warm water in their sinks.    Water tasted so good at this point.   We were also eating Gu packets from time to time, which helps on a long run.

We ran more along the greenway, following a creek and then out into a neighborhood when the trail ended.   We were heading back towards the house now, but were only at about seventeen miles.   The next bit was a mess.   We were running on a two-mile stretch of a large road with sidewalks on both sides and lots of loud traffic.   We still had to deal with spots of snow from time to time and some more downed tree branches.    We were both wanting to get off the road into some more peaceful running paths.

We decided to go home the way we'd headed out so we made our way on sidewalks and paved greenway back to the park entrance.  We got water and were disappointed to see, in the over fifty-degree weather that the trails in the park were still snow-covered.    "How bad could it be," we though and decided to run a bit further in to check the status of the trails further up.

They were bad.   We turned around shortly and sloshed through over a mile of messy, more melted and possibly more dangerous trail until we got to our home park exit.    We were tired but we had four miles left to make the marathon distance.   But we were home so we stopped in at the house to go to the bathroom.  I chugged a Gatorade and then we headed back out.

Our feet hurt.  Our legs hurt.  This wasn't the marathon we had anticipated when we started out, but we made the distance running the last miles in the neighborhood.

Before we were so exhausted, we talked enthusiastically about how this was the biggest running adventure we'd ever had.    It definitely was.   It worked our legs and feet in different ways and I'm sure that added to the challenge.   I also got a nice sunburn from the nice sunny day we had during the whole run.    But right now, I'm very tired.   Tomorrow and in the future, it's going to live on as the crazy marathon training run.

I'm glad we did it.  I'm glad we made it.   I'm going to bed.

The Big Boy Update:  Playing games with daddy.   I came downstairs tonight shortly before bed time to find my husband playing a video game on the television and my son holding a second controller.   Daddy had been teaching my son how to play several games, Sonic the Hedgehog one of them.   He said he did very well and was happy to wait his turn.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter is not into girly things for the most part.  Yesterday morning she came downstairs and said, "mom, I want to watch Transformers."

Fitness Update:  26.2 miles today in the most crazy marathon style.  As an aside, this is also the start of the fourth year my husband and I have been tracking our weights.   I'm holding steady to my ideal weight range goal.   I wish I didn't have to watch what I eat, but after four years, my desire to eat food is greater than the amount of food my body needs.