My husband, children and Uncle Jonathan had just finished eating dinner at a restaurant this evening and were driving over to a locally produced, all fresh ingredients, deliciously delectable ice cream store across the large street when we saw something that scared us enough we’re still talking about it.
We were at a stop light, preparing to do a U-turn when we heard sirens. Whenever this happens, we tell the children to look and see if they can see what’s coming. Children love fire trucks or ambulances or police cars and as we were already stopped, we were in a good position to look around. We saw a ladder fire truck coming from a side street, slowly enter the main road and begin to carefully cross the lanes. There were cars all around who had stopped to let the fire truck go “rescue people” as my son calls it.
The next thing I know, I hear a crunch sound. I said to my husband, “did the truck hit something? It sounded sort of like it did.” My husband said, “a car just slammed into the side of the truck. They didn’t slow down, they didn’t hit the brakes, they just ran straight into it.” I hadn’t seen it because my view was blocked by other stopped cars. My husband and Uncle Jonathan had seen this car not even realize there was a huge, red firetruck with sirens blaring in the middle of the intersection and tried to stop.
I could be remembering it wrong, but everyone saw that truck. Everyone heard the sirens. We all stopped. The fire truck was careful and was moving slowly. I don’t know what happened with that car. It was crumpled up under the passenger door area of the fire truck with most of the engine and front not visible. The fire fighters got out and began to check on the occupants but by then our light was green and we turned to go to the outdoor ice cream store, only one block away.
As we got our ice cream, police, first respond vehicles and ambulance after ambulance drove past us. We wondered if more cars had collided with the fire truck. When we left to go home, the area was blocked off and a slew of emergency medical personnel were visible as we drove around.
It’s always scary to see something happen like that. How did the driver miss all the visual and aural information letting him know he should be alert?
The children asked a lot of questions. There was some confusion on my son’s part on how many emergencies there were, what with all the sirens. I think he understood though that one emergency was being driven to by the fire truck and then a second emergency happened when the car ran into the fire truck. We talked about the EMS and how the ambulances were taking the people to the hospital to make sure they were okay. My children don’t understand death really yet, but my son did ask if they could take someone who was dead and make them non-dead at the hospital. We assured him the doctors would do everything they could to keep everyone alive and that doctors were pretty amazing people.
The Big Boy Update: As we were driving to school this morning my son asked about another school we passed on the way. I told him that was where I went to middle school when I was younger. My son then asked, “a hundred years ago? Two hundred?”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Uncle Jonathan joined us at the pool today. I had told the children he and Margaret would hopefully both be coming. When my daughter heard Margaret couldn’t join us today she said to Uncle Jonathan, “well, I’ll just pretend she’s here.” My daughter then waved and said “hi” to the Margaret who wasn’t here.
Fitness Update: Seven miles running in the morning and then I did that twenty-three minute upper body workout at the fitness room today. I’ve been putting off going, even though I like doing the workout when I get around to getting there.
Tuesday, July 14, 2015
Monday, July 13, 2015
The Breakfast and The Spaceship
The Big Boy Story of the Day Update:
This morning was a bad, bad morning for my son and eventually me. I won’t bore you with all the details, but know it was related to morning hunger and control issues on the part of my son. He got more and more defiant, used increasingly unkind words and there were consequences.
His food was put into a bag and he was going to be able to eat it in the car, except when we got in the car the situation didn’t get better. He stepped up his level of whining and complaining so I stopped the car and put him out on the side of the road.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t far enough away from the house, so he just decided to go home, figuring he didn’t want to go to camp anyway. I called my husband to tell him I had made a poor choice and to watch for our child, who was incoming. In the meantime, I was going to try and figure out another alternative. As I came back around the block my son had decided he did want to get in the car after all. It was at that point a nice neighbor came along and wanted to help. She was nice trying to help, but ultimately it made no difference.
So now we’re very late and I’m chasing a child into the back of the car who’s decided he actually doesn’t want to get into his car seat or go to camp and I really lose my temper. I think I finally lost it when I was thanking my neighbor and realized I hadn’t even brushed my daughter’s crazy hair she went to sleep on wet, because I’d been dealing with my son.
The snapping on my part was bad and involved some venting via screaming on my end and some rough handling with my son, who was physically (and not kindly) put back in his seat. I went home, snatched the brush and bow out of my husband’s hands probably without thanking him and zoomed off.
I was worried because my son needed to eat. He would be fine if he would just eat. At about this time, my son told me he didn’t like it when I yelled at him. I told him I hated it when I yelled and it meant I had failed as a mom. I told him I never, ever liked yelling but I was so upset because I made breakfast for him and all he did was complain about it. Then, my son got over everything. Just like that. Suddenly.
He told me he wanted to make me breakfast tomorrow. He said he’d make me pineapple juice. When we got to school he wanted to hug me. And then hug me again. Then he wanted to kiss me and hug me a third time. And this is odd, because we’ve never done departure hugs as a family because drop-off at school is meant to be a brisk transaction, not a prolonged event that holds up the line.
When I picked the children up, my son said he wanted to play Legos with me later—just me. He said he wanted to go to dinner with me to Pei Wei. I got to thinking about it and decided we needed to do some separate parent and child time again so I told my husband.
We split off at dinner time and I took my son to Pei Wei. We talked throughout the meal without interruptions. He ate his entire meal and then decided he wanted to come home for mint chocolate chip yogurt popsicles. He told me he wanted to be a kid astronaut. He also said he wanted to build a spaceship.
I told him when we got home, we could eat our popsicles on the porch and I’d take a list of all the things he’d need to build the spaceship. We did, and this is what he said:
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter was very excited about selecting the restaurant for her dinner with just her and dad tonight. She was so happy to have a dinner alone with him that she wanted to sit on the same side of the booth…in a two person booth. They ate together, in close quarters, for the entire meal.
Fitness Update: I biked ten miles with my husband today. We haven’t done a route I call, “the splash” in a long time because it involves riding through a creek that changes height and muddiness with the weather. I’m glad I haven’t tried to go that route running, it’s messy enough on a bike.
This morning was a bad, bad morning for my son and eventually me. I won’t bore you with all the details, but know it was related to morning hunger and control issues on the part of my son. He got more and more defiant, used increasingly unkind words and there were consequences.
His food was put into a bag and he was going to be able to eat it in the car, except when we got in the car the situation didn’t get better. He stepped up his level of whining and complaining so I stopped the car and put him out on the side of the road.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t far enough away from the house, so he just decided to go home, figuring he didn’t want to go to camp anyway. I called my husband to tell him I had made a poor choice and to watch for our child, who was incoming. In the meantime, I was going to try and figure out another alternative. As I came back around the block my son had decided he did want to get in the car after all. It was at that point a nice neighbor came along and wanted to help. She was nice trying to help, but ultimately it made no difference.
So now we’re very late and I’m chasing a child into the back of the car who’s decided he actually doesn’t want to get into his car seat or go to camp and I really lose my temper. I think I finally lost it when I was thanking my neighbor and realized I hadn’t even brushed my daughter’s crazy hair she went to sleep on wet, because I’d been dealing with my son.
The snapping on my part was bad and involved some venting via screaming on my end and some rough handling with my son, who was physically (and not kindly) put back in his seat. I went home, snatched the brush and bow out of my husband’s hands probably without thanking him and zoomed off.
I was worried because my son needed to eat. He would be fine if he would just eat. At about this time, my son told me he didn’t like it when I yelled at him. I told him I hated it when I yelled and it meant I had failed as a mom. I told him I never, ever liked yelling but I was so upset because I made breakfast for him and all he did was complain about it. Then, my son got over everything. Just like that. Suddenly.
He told me he wanted to make me breakfast tomorrow. He said he’d make me pineapple juice. When we got to school he wanted to hug me. And then hug me again. Then he wanted to kiss me and hug me a third time. And this is odd, because we’ve never done departure hugs as a family because drop-off at school is meant to be a brisk transaction, not a prolonged event that holds up the line.
When I picked the children up, my son said he wanted to play Legos with me later—just me. He said he wanted to go to dinner with me to Pei Wei. I got to thinking about it and decided we needed to do some separate parent and child time again so I told my husband.
We split off at dinner time and I took my son to Pei Wei. We talked throughout the meal without interruptions. He ate his entire meal and then decided he wanted to come home for mint chocolate chip yogurt popsicles. He told me he wanted to be a kid astronaut. He also said he wanted to build a spaceship.
I told him when we got home, we could eat our popsicles on the porch and I’d take a list of all the things he’d need to build the spaceship. We did, and this is what he said:
We’ll need lots of hammers. We need Rayan and Keira’s screwdrivers. We’ll need Nicholas’ screwdriver. The spaceship has a front, a back and a middle. The back is made out of hot liquid to make fire. The front is made out of metal so it can’t break if something crashes into it. Our spaceship has weapons: Fire Shooter, Ice Shooter, Water Shooter and Dirt Shooter. <laughs> Water and dirt make mud. The middle is made out of very hard plastic. Four people are in the middle and two people are in the front. They’re eating popsicles since there’s hot air on. It’s built by all the people in the town carrying it. We put the bottom on first, then the middle, then the top. Then we take off.I’ll let you know when he’s finished building his spaceship so you can book seats to view the launch.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter was very excited about selecting the restaurant for her dinner with just her and dad tonight. She was so happy to have a dinner alone with him that she wanted to sit on the same side of the booth…in a two person booth. They ate together, in close quarters, for the entire meal.
Fitness Update: I biked ten miles with my husband today. We haven’t done a route I call, “the splash” in a long time because it involves riding through a creek that changes height and muddiness with the weather. I’m glad I haven’t tried to go that route running, it’s messy enough on a bike.
Sunday, July 12, 2015
Seventh Gear
I hated biking. It was awful. I mean I liked getting out on a bicycle, only it was murder on my thighs anytime there was the slightest uphill pedaling. My bicycling experience had a huge gap in it from childhood until recently, when I got a bike and a bike seat for a child and a child to go in that bike seat.
My husband likes to bike. He can’t easily run due to a knee injury, but he seems to enjoy biking quite a lot. It sounded fun to me, so I thought I’d try it. It turned out I did a lot of grumbling and complaining. You see, going downhill is free. You don’t have to do anything other than just hold on. But the price for that free ride is the pedaling you must do to get up the hill in the first place. My legs weren’t used to that type of work.
Sure, sure, I could run a marathon on hilly terrain without turning into a whining person, bemoaning every single hill because the course was just too terribly hilly. But put me on a bike and have me go on that same course and you’d see an entirely different person emerge.
Mostly it was because—I think—my inexperience at bicycling. I would see a hill and worry immediately that I wasn’t going to be able to make it up. I would down shift (or is it up shift?) and before I’d even lost all my speed, I’d be pedaling in first gear like a toddler on a tricycle going down a steep driveway. Because I’d killed my speed early and dropped into the lowest gear, I had a lot longer climb to get to the top of the gradual, short, measly little hill. My husband would kindly wait for me at the top and then we’d continue.
But I got better. I learned how to stay in a higher gear for longer and maintain a faster speed. The next thing you know, I was two-thirds up that little hill and I was still in seventh gear. And getting to the top from there took less effort and time.
I don’t know how gears are normally referred to, but here’s how I think of them: I have three gears on the left (1, 2, and 3) and seven gears on the right (1, 2, up to 7.) If I’m in gear 2 on the left and gear 5 on the right I call that, “Gear 25” which probably is completely incorrect nomenclature, but makes sense to me as I normally read numbers from left to right.
A lower number on either the left or the right side corresponds to a single pedal rotation transversing less distance. So for instance, first gear on each side (gear 11 as I would call it) is the “easiest” gear. A single pedal rotation pushes the bike very little distance. This is the gear I’d always get stuck in going up those hills. I would pedal and pedal and pedal and get not very far, because I had no speed left.
A higher gear, say gear 17, would push the bicycle much farther in a single rotation of the pedals. Gear 27—which turns out to be my favorite gear—will traverse quite a lot of distance in a single rotation of the gears.
So with all this numerical stuff being said, what does it really mean? What it meant to me initially was my husband was in great shape and could stay in higher numbered gears for a long time and more often and as a result, he was far faster and much more efficient at riding a bicycle. I was envious.
I started noticing something as I began biking more, and that was I was spending a whole lot of time in gear seven (27 or 37 usually) and not needing to drop to lower gears at locations I had been struggling before. So I made it into a game. How long could I stay in gear 27 or 37? I was very surprised to find out big, steep, long hills that had been my nemesis only months before, were something I could push through while staying in a high gear.
It got to be not only a game, but a challenge I put on myself. Today I went out for a bike ride. I wasn’t sure how long I was going to go, but I ended up having enough time and energy and did my longest ride ever, at twenty-seven miles. In that in entire time, I only used two gears: 27 and 37. It was fun too. I don’t hate biking any more.
The Big Boy Update: My son got a lesson in sewing when he was staying with Nana and Papa last week. When we came to see them he wanted to show me the stitches he had learned. Nana got him set up on her sewing machine, let him pick the stitch and then I watched him go through all the steps you needed to do to run a pattern on the cloth. He was very happy with knowing how to sew.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter has never had her bangs cut, but it looks like she has some. Her hair is fine and wispy and it breaks easily. It’s finally gotten long enough to pull up in a single pony tail high on her head that pulls back all the loose pieces so she doesn’t have hair in her face. She also looks great with her hair up.
Fitness Update: Marathon on a bike. I wanted to ride 26.2 miles today on my bicycle. I made twenty-seven miles and had a great time in the sunny, hot weather.
My husband likes to bike. He can’t easily run due to a knee injury, but he seems to enjoy biking quite a lot. It sounded fun to me, so I thought I’d try it. It turned out I did a lot of grumbling and complaining. You see, going downhill is free. You don’t have to do anything other than just hold on. But the price for that free ride is the pedaling you must do to get up the hill in the first place. My legs weren’t used to that type of work.
Sure, sure, I could run a marathon on hilly terrain without turning into a whining person, bemoaning every single hill because the course was just too terribly hilly. But put me on a bike and have me go on that same course and you’d see an entirely different person emerge.
Mostly it was because—I think—my inexperience at bicycling. I would see a hill and worry immediately that I wasn’t going to be able to make it up. I would down shift (or is it up shift?) and before I’d even lost all my speed, I’d be pedaling in first gear like a toddler on a tricycle going down a steep driveway. Because I’d killed my speed early and dropped into the lowest gear, I had a lot longer climb to get to the top of the gradual, short, measly little hill. My husband would kindly wait for me at the top and then we’d continue.
But I got better. I learned how to stay in a higher gear for longer and maintain a faster speed. The next thing you know, I was two-thirds up that little hill and I was still in seventh gear. And getting to the top from there took less effort and time.
I don’t know how gears are normally referred to, but here’s how I think of them: I have three gears on the left (1, 2, and 3) and seven gears on the right (1, 2, up to 7.) If I’m in gear 2 on the left and gear 5 on the right I call that, “Gear 25” which probably is completely incorrect nomenclature, but makes sense to me as I normally read numbers from left to right.
A lower number on either the left or the right side corresponds to a single pedal rotation transversing less distance. So for instance, first gear on each side (gear 11 as I would call it) is the “easiest” gear. A single pedal rotation pushes the bike very little distance. This is the gear I’d always get stuck in going up those hills. I would pedal and pedal and pedal and get not very far, because I had no speed left.
A higher gear, say gear 17, would push the bicycle much farther in a single rotation of the pedals. Gear 27—which turns out to be my favorite gear—will traverse quite a lot of distance in a single rotation of the gears.
So with all this numerical stuff being said, what does it really mean? What it meant to me initially was my husband was in great shape and could stay in higher numbered gears for a long time and more often and as a result, he was far faster and much more efficient at riding a bicycle. I was envious.
I started noticing something as I began biking more, and that was I was spending a whole lot of time in gear seven (27 or 37 usually) and not needing to drop to lower gears at locations I had been struggling before. So I made it into a game. How long could I stay in gear 27 or 37? I was very surprised to find out big, steep, long hills that had been my nemesis only months before, were something I could push through while staying in a high gear.
It got to be not only a game, but a challenge I put on myself. Today I went out for a bike ride. I wasn’t sure how long I was going to go, but I ended up having enough time and energy and did my longest ride ever, at twenty-seven miles. In that in entire time, I only used two gears: 27 and 37. It was fun too. I don’t hate biking any more.
The Big Boy Update: My son got a lesson in sewing when he was staying with Nana and Papa last week. When we came to see them he wanted to show me the stitches he had learned. Nana got him set up on her sewing machine, let him pick the stitch and then I watched him go through all the steps you needed to do to run a pattern on the cloth. He was very happy with knowing how to sew.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter has never had her bangs cut, but it looks like she has some. Her hair is fine and wispy and it breaks easily. It’s finally gotten long enough to pull up in a single pony tail high on her head that pulls back all the loose pieces so she doesn’t have hair in her face. She also looks great with her hair up.
Fitness Update: Marathon on a bike. I wanted to ride 26.2 miles today on my bicycle. I made twenty-seven miles and had a great time in the sunny, hot weather.
Saturday, July 11, 2015
The Pliers and The Box
My children helped me out with a project this morning. As we were finishing up, my husband came downstairs with an empty air filter box from the attic. As he set it down, my son got up to claim it. The room we were in is where I have all my craft supplies and my son had an idea for that box. He had plans for it. And those plans involved pliers…
He went over to the drawer where I keep my jewelry making tools, opened it up and hopefully asked if he could use the pliers. I told him he couldn’t use those, but if he opened the bottom drawer, he could use any of those. He grabbed as many pliers as he could and got to work on the box.
They weren’t all pliers exactly. Some were round-nose or flat-nose or bent-nose pliers, but some were for specific things like making jump rings or opening split ring or performing crimps. But that mattered not, because each of those tools could be used in some way to maim that innocent cardboard box.
My daughter got involved and the pliers started to be referred to by name, “the grabbers” or “the chewers” or “the punchers.” They made all kinds of holes in the box together for the next half-hour.
Then it was time for lunch. I’m going to fast-forward here to the part where my son and daughter continued to use the word, “poopie” in inappropriate and highly-repetitive ways, even with harsh warnings from my husband and me. We got home and there was more trouble, resulting in my son being sent outside for poor behavior. My son then made it worse on himself not once, but twice, with the end result in the two of them losing the privilege of going to their friend’s play date that afternoon.
My son was very, very upset. I was glad he was upset because that meant he understood it was serious and he was unhappy at the consequence. I texted our friend to tell her we wouldn’t make it. She said she understood, but if the problem was with only one of the children, to please come on over if we wanted to. So I decided to take my daughter, who is very good friends with Neel.
My daughter and I had a good time and I had the best artichoke vegetarian pizza I’ve ever had. When we came home over three-hours later, I called my husband who said it had been a good thing to have the children split up. We both agreed sometimes separate experiences with our children is a good thing to have.
What was my son doing when we got home? He was in the garage playing with that box, working on it with some pliers and a hammer. That poor box…
The Big Boy Update: We were coming out of the post office this afternoon when my son looked around and said, “I see a lot of pine trees…so we’re in Pinehurst.” (My in-laws live in Pinehurst.)
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Egg Peeler. My daughter helped me peel eggs this morning. I knew she had done this at school, but I’d never see it personally. I also heard (from her) that she didn’t like eggs. Not only did she peel all six, she happily ate one when she was finished.
Fitness Update: I ran a quick three miles after dinner tonight.
He went over to the drawer where I keep my jewelry making tools, opened it up and hopefully asked if he could use the pliers. I told him he couldn’t use those, but if he opened the bottom drawer, he could use any of those. He grabbed as many pliers as he could and got to work on the box.
They weren’t all pliers exactly. Some were round-nose or flat-nose or bent-nose pliers, but some were for specific things like making jump rings or opening split ring or performing crimps. But that mattered not, because each of those tools could be used in some way to maim that innocent cardboard box.
My daughter got involved and the pliers started to be referred to by name, “the grabbers” or “the chewers” or “the punchers.” They made all kinds of holes in the box together for the next half-hour.
Then it was time for lunch. I’m going to fast-forward here to the part where my son and daughter continued to use the word, “poopie” in inappropriate and highly-repetitive ways, even with harsh warnings from my husband and me. We got home and there was more trouble, resulting in my son being sent outside for poor behavior. My son then made it worse on himself not once, but twice, with the end result in the two of them losing the privilege of going to their friend’s play date that afternoon.
My son was very, very upset. I was glad he was upset because that meant he understood it was serious and he was unhappy at the consequence. I texted our friend to tell her we wouldn’t make it. She said she understood, but if the problem was with only one of the children, to please come on over if we wanted to. So I decided to take my daughter, who is very good friends with Neel.
My daughter and I had a good time and I had the best artichoke vegetarian pizza I’ve ever had. When we came home over three-hours later, I called my husband who said it had been a good thing to have the children split up. We both agreed sometimes separate experiences with our children is a good thing to have.
What was my son doing when we got home? He was in the garage playing with that box, working on it with some pliers and a hammer. That poor box…
The Big Boy Update: We were coming out of the post office this afternoon when my son looked around and said, “I see a lot of pine trees…so we’re in Pinehurst.” (My in-laws live in Pinehurst.)
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Egg Peeler. My daughter helped me peel eggs this morning. I knew she had done this at school, but I’d never see it personally. I also heard (from her) that she didn’t like eggs. Not only did she peel all six, she happily ate one when she was finished.
Fitness Update: I ran a quick three miles after dinner tonight.
Friday, July 10, 2015
Highs and Lows
I had a low weight today. I had been out in ninety-degree plus weather and it was all kinds of humid. When I got back, I knew I would have a low weight from the weight loss. I also knew the weight would be low because it was already fairly low before we started out.
This means something would normally be seen as a good thing: I need to eat a lot. The reason it can have mixed feelings is because for many weeks prior, I had worked hard to not eat big meals, to carefully watch my intake of calories and understand I had to go without food items I might want to have.
Now, today, this week, at this point and weight, I’m suppose to throw all that mental conditioning away and be ready to go eat a full, large, calorie-laden meal and NOT feel guilty about it afterwards. Not feel as though I’d failed myself on my diet for the day.
It is hard to change that frame of mind quickly. It’s also hard to eat a big meal and not feel terribly over-full after several months of eating small meals too. But I did it, because after having three full plates of food at lunch today I unexpectedly fell asleep in the car on the way home I was so full and lethargic.
The Big Boy Update: My son is upstairs doing imaginary play with something he keeps referring to as, “the kung poos” He just watched Kung Fu Panda 2 and is acting out bits of the story.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter has high skills at falling asleep in a position that looks like she’s awake. Tonight we were singing the, “happy new job cookie” song and didn’t know why she wasn’t in the kitchen, eagerly waiting to have a piece of the big cookie we got to celebrate our friend getting a new job. (Hence the happy new job cookie song.) It wasn’t until we were eating the cookie that we realized she was asleep on the ottoman, looking like she was watching the television.
Fitness Update: Five walking miles and five running miles with my neighbor today, who was recovering from a multi-day migraine.
This means something would normally be seen as a good thing: I need to eat a lot. The reason it can have mixed feelings is because for many weeks prior, I had worked hard to not eat big meals, to carefully watch my intake of calories and understand I had to go without food items I might want to have.
Now, today, this week, at this point and weight, I’m suppose to throw all that mental conditioning away and be ready to go eat a full, large, calorie-laden meal and NOT feel guilty about it afterwards. Not feel as though I’d failed myself on my diet for the day.
It is hard to change that frame of mind quickly. It’s also hard to eat a big meal and not feel terribly over-full after several months of eating small meals too. But I did it, because after having three full plates of food at lunch today I unexpectedly fell asleep in the car on the way home I was so full and lethargic.
The Big Boy Update: My son is upstairs doing imaginary play with something he keeps referring to as, “the kung poos” He just watched Kung Fu Panda 2 and is acting out bits of the story.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter has high skills at falling asleep in a position that looks like she’s awake. Tonight we were singing the, “happy new job cookie” song and didn’t know why she wasn’t in the kitchen, eagerly waiting to have a piece of the big cookie we got to celebrate our friend getting a new job. (Hence the happy new job cookie song.) It wasn’t until we were eating the cookie that we realized she was asleep on the ottoman, looking like she was watching the television.
Fitness Update: Five walking miles and five running miles with my neighbor today, who was recovering from a multi-day migraine.
Thursday, July 9, 2015
Energy
Today my husband and I decided to bike to school to pick up the children and then bike them home. It was hot, something in the ninety-degrees-ish range. Let’s just call it sweat-a-lot hot. We picked up the two children, put their helmets on and started to head home.
Several things occurred to me at this point. First, it is a lot easier to bike a heavy, unwieldy child on the back of your bike at the beginning of a ride, and then, when you leave them at school, your bike feels free, light and well-balanced. You feel like you can move. You feel like you’re powerful and you can pedal with the wind at your back all the way home.
Second, it’s cool in the morning. The sun isn’t blaring down on you and, if you’re like me, you’re not full. In short, it’s a nicer ride.
Third, you’re not partially tired from biking uphill to get to the school. (It’s not uphill all the way, but the overall altitude is about one-hundred-thirty feet higher.)
And fourth, I was rethinking how smart it was when I said to my husband, “I’ll take the larger child. stick him on the back of my bike so he can act as a huge destabilizer, also doubling as, ‘precious cargo.’”
So we get started on the way home. My son says things like, “go faster!” He says, “don’t let daddy win,” when my husband pulls out ahead. I am explaining all about safety in the fashion we adults do that to children that must sound like a lot of “blah de blah.”
Then, my son made me smile. He said, “Mom, you never run out of energy.” I told him thanks. He was quiet for a bit and then he asked me as I struggled up the last of a steep hill, “Mom, are you burning calories?”
The Big Boy Update: While my son was eating breakfast this morning, he said to me for no apparent reason, “Mom, someday you’re going to be a scientist.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My children loved swimming in the lake at my in-laws house this past weekend. One of the fun things they like to do when they get in the water to swim at the lake is swim under the boat. The boats in their lake are only electric, which necessitates mostly pontoon boats. My in-laws boat is fun to swim under, between the two pontoons. When you go under, the color of the water is reflected differently and looks quite yellow. My daughter asked why it was yellow. I think my mother-in-law explained about refraction of light and reflection of, well, honestly, I’m not sure why the water looks like melted snow with pee on it. I’m going to have to ask her myself the next time I see her.
Fitness Update: Fifteen miles to pick up the children to bike them home on the back of our bicycles. I wasn’t sure we’d get a lot of use out of our bike child seats when we bought them two years ago, but it’s been a great way to have some time to bond with a child. We all love our bikes with bike seats.
Several things occurred to me at this point. First, it is a lot easier to bike a heavy, unwieldy child on the back of your bike at the beginning of a ride, and then, when you leave them at school, your bike feels free, light and well-balanced. You feel like you can move. You feel like you’re powerful and you can pedal with the wind at your back all the way home.
Second, it’s cool in the morning. The sun isn’t blaring down on you and, if you’re like me, you’re not full. In short, it’s a nicer ride.
Third, you’re not partially tired from biking uphill to get to the school. (It’s not uphill all the way, but the overall altitude is about one-hundred-thirty feet higher.)
And fourth, I was rethinking how smart it was when I said to my husband, “I’ll take the larger child. stick him on the back of my bike so he can act as a huge destabilizer, also doubling as, ‘precious cargo.’”
So we get started on the way home. My son says things like, “go faster!” He says, “don’t let daddy win,” when my husband pulls out ahead. I am explaining all about safety in the fashion we adults do that to children that must sound like a lot of “blah de blah.”
Then, my son made me smile. He said, “Mom, you never run out of energy.” I told him thanks. He was quiet for a bit and then he asked me as I struggled up the last of a steep hill, “Mom, are you burning calories?”
The Big Boy Update: While my son was eating breakfast this morning, he said to me for no apparent reason, “Mom, someday you’re going to be a scientist.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My children loved swimming in the lake at my in-laws house this past weekend. One of the fun things they like to do when they get in the water to swim at the lake is swim under the boat. The boats in their lake are only electric, which necessitates mostly pontoon boats. My in-laws boat is fun to swim under, between the two pontoons. When you go under, the color of the water is reflected differently and looks quite yellow. My daughter asked why it was yellow. I think my mother-in-law explained about refraction of light and reflection of, well, honestly, I’m not sure why the water looks like melted snow with pee on it. I’m going to have to ask her myself the next time I see her.
Fitness Update: Fifteen miles to pick up the children to bike them home on the back of our bicycles. I wasn’t sure we’d get a lot of use out of our bike child seats when we bought them two years ago, but it’s been a great way to have some time to bond with a child. We all love our bikes with bike seats.
Wednesday, July 8, 2015
Do You Work Out?
My neighbor and I both went on a “spring diet” at the same time. My husband joined in and found an app we started using. Then my neighbor’s husband got interested in the app and the progress we were all making from the support you get when you’re not the only one suffering. The four of us, working on getting that winter weight off together, made it more fun and motivating all around.
I needed to lose seven pounds. I know, it’s not a lot, but pick up a seven-pound dumbbell and it sure feels like a lot to tote around all day, every day. Losing the weight in a healthy way took us over seven weeks, but we got there. During that time, we did a good bit of exercise. We mostly did so because otherwise, we didn’t feel like we had enough calories to eat that day and not feel hungry.
It is so much easier to lose weight when you exercise. We got into the exercising and didn’t want to go a day without doing something, mostly for me because I love, love, love to eat. We lost the weight and added some tone to our muscles as well. And we looked better. We definitely looked a little more trim, a little more lean and possibly a little more muscular.
That’s when the comments started. I was getting them and my neighbor was getting them. They were nice compliments, but they were embarrassing. At one party I had one friend (who had been drinking) tell me several times she thought I looked great. There was another friend at that same party who asked me what I was doing, because she wasn’t getting the same results, even though she worked out a lot.
They were flattering comments. But they were unexpected and surprising too. I mean, seven pounds and ten weeks of exercising a bit more than we usually did and we were getting strangers say things to us like I got at Bed Bath and Beyond at the checkout earlier this week. I was asked, “do you work out?” I said I did and then she said as she rang up the next item, “Every day?” I said sometimes it seemed like it. Then she said, “I wish I could look as good as you.” I thanked her because I could tell she was being sincere. I told her it wasn’t hard, it just took time.
I know I didn’t “need” to lose the seven pounds. Lots of people told me I looked great. But those seven pounds make me feel better and I think from the comments I’ve gotten, it’s made me look better too.
The Big Boy Update: Who was married first? My son asked this question tonight at dinner. It took us a bit to get the, “who” part of the question figured out but when we did we told him Mimi and Gramps were married first, then Nana and Papa were married next and some time later mom and dad were married. He was skeptical we had our facts straight, saying he thought Nana and Papa were the ones who were married first.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter said to me this morning, “I’m going back to put some of my hair behind my ears and some on my back.” She proceeded to rearrange her hair to get it out of her face. Then she said, “do I look pretty mom?” I assured her she did.
Fitness Update: Ten miles in the park with my husband. Today was a lesson in proper tire inflation. I over-inflated them to say the least. The PSI would have been fine on roads or dirt pathways. We spent a good bit of time on very rocky trails including coming home via, “The Hateful Route.” I told my husband I had to go into survival mode, trying to do my best to hold on as the bike bounced me all around. My shocks were doing their job, but they were no match for the rubble and rocks.
I needed to lose seven pounds. I know, it’s not a lot, but pick up a seven-pound dumbbell and it sure feels like a lot to tote around all day, every day. Losing the weight in a healthy way took us over seven weeks, but we got there. During that time, we did a good bit of exercise. We mostly did so because otherwise, we didn’t feel like we had enough calories to eat that day and not feel hungry.
It is so much easier to lose weight when you exercise. We got into the exercising and didn’t want to go a day without doing something, mostly for me because I love, love, love to eat. We lost the weight and added some tone to our muscles as well. And we looked better. We definitely looked a little more trim, a little more lean and possibly a little more muscular.
That’s when the comments started. I was getting them and my neighbor was getting them. They were nice compliments, but they were embarrassing. At one party I had one friend (who had been drinking) tell me several times she thought I looked great. There was another friend at that same party who asked me what I was doing, because she wasn’t getting the same results, even though she worked out a lot.
They were flattering comments. But they were unexpected and surprising too. I mean, seven pounds and ten weeks of exercising a bit more than we usually did and we were getting strangers say things to us like I got at Bed Bath and Beyond at the checkout earlier this week. I was asked, “do you work out?” I said I did and then she said as she rang up the next item, “Every day?” I said sometimes it seemed like it. Then she said, “I wish I could look as good as you.” I thanked her because I could tell she was being sincere. I told her it wasn’t hard, it just took time.
I know I didn’t “need” to lose the seven pounds. Lots of people told me I looked great. But those seven pounds make me feel better and I think from the comments I’ve gotten, it’s made me look better too.
The Big Boy Update: Who was married first? My son asked this question tonight at dinner. It took us a bit to get the, “who” part of the question figured out but when we did we told him Mimi and Gramps were married first, then Nana and Papa were married next and some time later mom and dad were married. He was skeptical we had our facts straight, saying he thought Nana and Papa were the ones who were married first.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter said to me this morning, “I’m going back to put some of my hair behind my ears and some on my back.” She proceeded to rearrange her hair to get it out of her face. Then she said, “do I look pretty mom?” I assured her she did.
Fitness Update: Ten miles in the park with my husband. Today was a lesson in proper tire inflation. I over-inflated them to say the least. The PSI would have been fine on roads or dirt pathways. We spent a good bit of time on very rocky trails including coming home via, “The Hateful Route.” I told my husband I had to go into survival mode, trying to do my best to hold on as the bike bounced me all around. My shocks were doing their job, but they were no match for the rubble and rocks.
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