There are two ways to pronounce the title of this blog post. In this case, pronounce "wind" as you would when talking about a strong breeze. "I wind" is something my children say. Of late, they're saying it a lot, because they're having competitions on just about everything. One of them decides to run up the street, dashes off and then decides to stop seven sidewalk segments ahead, yelling out loud, "I WIND!"
The other child wants to be a winner too, so they run ahead another five segments and suddenly yell, "I WIND TOO!" Competitions like this that make no sense to adults, but are totally serious interactions between young children are common occurrences in our house.
Sometimes, this can be good. Being the first one downstairs in the morning with your clothes and socks on, ready for breakfast and school, is a good thing. Being the first one to the swing, because you grabbed your sister by the back of her shirt and flung her to the ground, however, is not.
I was an only child, so all this sibling rivalry is new to me. I'm going to be learning a lot about it as they grow up, I suspect.
The Big Boy Update: My son is having some difficult times lately with not getting his way. When this happens, he calls people things involving the words, "poopie," "butt," and "stupid." He is suffering consequences, which make him very unhappy, but he still can't seem to control himself when he's frustrated or angry.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: There was a bounce house at the graduation party we went to today. It was an obstacle course bounce house and my children loved it. It was hot, humid and sunny and my daughter's cheeks got more and more red. I've never seen her so visibly overheated. We kept giving her water, whenever we could get her to take breaks from the bounce house.
Fitness Update: Ten miles in the park. I ate enough to counteract all those calories I burned off at a graduation party of one of our favorite sitters this afternoon, though.
Sunday, May 31, 2015
Saturday, May 30, 2015
Goodbye to the Band
I've run a lot of races at this point. I was nervous the night before for races that were new to me, such as the first race I ever ran, the first half marathon and the first marathon. At this point, I just get up, put on my weather- and distance-appropriate gear and drive to the event, wait around until start time and go. No fuss, just fun.
I realized some time back I was using one specific hair band for races and long training runs. It was my most reliable band: it held my hair in place, didn't pull the hair out when I removed it and basically did exactly what I would want an ideal hair band to do.
I have lots and lots of hair bands. It is rare to find me without one or two on one of my wrists if my hair is down. It's part of my daily attire, just like shoes. This one band though, was reserved for performance-based running needs. I looked at it's frayed little mass of cream-colored fibers the other day and thought, "I'm going to be sad when it breaks." Then, I stretched it out to put on my hair for a half marathon run I was about to do...and it gave way.
I put it down, thinking about how it was with me for all three of the marathons I've run and most of the other races, but I couldn't throw it away. I stuck it in my scrapbook folder with a little note attached. Maybe someday I'll find it and remember all that running I used to do.
The Big Boy Update: My son ran into the bathroom this morning while my husband and I were getting ready and asked, "what's a wife?"
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter wanted to make something today with their kids kitchen set. She got squirt lemon juice, some sugar and water and made me lemonade. It was pretty good too, because I think she added a lot of sugar.
Fitness Update: I ran my first 8K race today. Uncle Jonathan's girlfriend and I ran it together. The weather was pure delight, other than the heavy humidity. We had such a good time chatting, the race was over before I knew it. We also ran faster than I usually do, coming in at 10:05 per mile, with multiple walking water stops.
I realized some time back I was using one specific hair band for races and long training runs. It was my most reliable band: it held my hair in place, didn't pull the hair out when I removed it and basically did exactly what I would want an ideal hair band to do.
I have lots and lots of hair bands. It is rare to find me without one or two on one of my wrists if my hair is down. It's part of my daily attire, just like shoes. This one band though, was reserved for performance-based running needs. I looked at it's frayed little mass of cream-colored fibers the other day and thought, "I'm going to be sad when it breaks." Then, I stretched it out to put on my hair for a half marathon run I was about to do...and it gave way.
I put it down, thinking about how it was with me for all three of the marathons I've run and most of the other races, but I couldn't throw it away. I stuck it in my scrapbook folder with a little note attached. Maybe someday I'll find it and remember all that running I used to do.
The Big Boy Update: My son ran into the bathroom this morning while my husband and I were getting ready and asked, "what's a wife?"
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter wanted to make something today with their kids kitchen set. She got squirt lemon juice, some sugar and water and made me lemonade. It was pretty good too, because I think she added a lot of sugar.
Fitness Update: I ran my first 8K race today. Uncle Jonathan's girlfriend and I ran it together. The weather was pure delight, other than the heavy humidity. We had such a good time chatting, the race was over before I knew it. We also ran faster than I usually do, coming in at 10:05 per mile, with multiple walking water stops.
Friday, May 29, 2015
The Aged Sheets
My pillow case tore when I tried to put a new pillow in it several months ago. Yes, it was a very fluffy pillow, but the pillow case just gave way when I tugged one time too many. My mother-in-law saved the day by fixing the pillow case, but that wasn't the end of the sheet issues.
Not too long ago, my husband and I were making the bed. He was on one side while I was on the other. During a normal pulling motion, a tear was introduced into an area of the sheet where there was no seam. Another area that just shouldn't rip. The tear has been joined by a second tear by now.
I started thinking about the sheets. I love those sheets. They are so soft and comfortable. I know I've gotten more than one replacement comforter since I got the sheets, but when was it I got the sheets in the first place? I thought back and realized I had purchased them when I bought a house that had a master bedroom large enough to hold a bed bigger than a full.
I got that king-sized bed and some sheets to go with it and since that point, I've been sleeping in the same bed—with the same sheets. That was 1997.
So it would appear my sheets are old. I don't want to get new sheets; I love my current sheets. Maybe I can ask my mother-in-law to work some of that sewing magic she does and we can extend the life of the sheets by another year or two.
The Big Boy Update: My son counted to 11,381 today. He did so with the gold beads and rods used in Montessori classrooms. His teacher was very pleased to tell us about it when she put him in the car at pickup.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter is a troll. She likes to curl up into a ball after being wet. She's been doing it for years after taking a bath. She does it at the pool as well. She lays the towel out on the ground, sits on top and pulls the towel over her as she makes herself into a small ball.
Fitness Update: I went to the gym today and had the nicest time with the other people that work our with Don, our trainer. We had the usual group today. Every one of them is nice. We all laugh at each other, encourage each other and have fun together. It's nice to be part of such a friendly exercise community.
Not too long ago, my husband and I were making the bed. He was on one side while I was on the other. During a normal pulling motion, a tear was introduced into an area of the sheet where there was no seam. Another area that just shouldn't rip. The tear has been joined by a second tear by now.
I started thinking about the sheets. I love those sheets. They are so soft and comfortable. I know I've gotten more than one replacement comforter since I got the sheets, but when was it I got the sheets in the first place? I thought back and realized I had purchased them when I bought a house that had a master bedroom large enough to hold a bed bigger than a full.
I got that king-sized bed and some sheets to go with it and since that point, I've been sleeping in the same bed—with the same sheets. That was 1997.
So it would appear my sheets are old. I don't want to get new sheets; I love my current sheets. Maybe I can ask my mother-in-law to work some of that sewing magic she does and we can extend the life of the sheets by another year or two.
The Big Boy Update: My son counted to 11,381 today. He did so with the gold beads and rods used in Montessori classrooms. His teacher was very pleased to tell us about it when she put him in the car at pickup.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter is a troll. She likes to curl up into a ball after being wet. She's been doing it for years after taking a bath. She does it at the pool as well. She lays the towel out on the ground, sits on top and pulls the towel over her as she makes herself into a small ball.
Fitness Update: I went to the gym today and had the nicest time with the other people that work our with Don, our trainer. We had the usual group today. Every one of them is nice. We all laugh at each other, encourage each other and have fun together. It's nice to be part of such a friendly exercise community.
Thursday, May 28, 2015
That's a Gift
My husband and I went to a memorial service this evening for the mother of one of the best friends of my life. She and I have been close from the point we met in elementary school. We spent many afternoons at each other's houses after school and I have lots of fond memories of her mother starting from when we were young children, to a Christmas party we saw her at just last year.
The service was lovely, poignant and yet a happy memory of a life well-lived. We met with their family afterwards and reminisced with some friends we hadn't seen in a long time.
My friend had done a lot of work to get everything coordinated for the memorial service. I suppose I hadn't thought about what would need to be done when a parent dies before. There was so much to be done. One of the first things was writing the obituary. How do you summarize a life? What do you leave out? How do you capture the essence of a person in a few words? I don't know, but my mother does.
My mother is an organized person who plans ahead. My mother has written both her and my father's obituaries in advance, in the case something were to happen to either of them. My mother has given me copies of these obituaries for future need. I dutifully filed them with the other important documents of theirs she had shared and thought not much more about them.
When my friend's mother died, she and I talked on the phone. She was struggling because she didn't know what to put in her mother's obituary. I told her I could share my parent's if that would give her some guidance and she said that would be helpful. She told me later how helpful they had been in giving her some direction. She also told me it was a lot of work to figure out everything her mother had done and get it all summarized.
I happened to be having this conversation in our kitchen at movie night when a friend of ours was listening in. When he realized my mother had written their obituaries already he turned to me and said, "that's a gift." I agreed with him completely, it is a tremendous gift. It is a gift I didn't even begin to appreciate until just recently.
The Big Boy Update: My son isn't allowed to take toys into school. The other morning he had something he really wanted to show to his friends, so he asked me, "could you take a picture of my spy gear so I can show it to my friends?" I told him I would. I'm not sure how the picture was going to make it to class, but it was the idea of taking a picture of the item when the item itself wasn't allowed, that impressed me.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: "Where is Gramp's bear?" My father got my daughter the smallest little purple stuffed bear I've ever seen something like a year ago. It's about two inches tall and it's arms and legs move and my daughter loves it. It gets lost and found over time, mostly lost knowing how my children move toys around. Last night she wanted Gramp's bear to go to bed. Fortunately, I had seen it only minutes before. It's too small to hug, but I think she tried.
Fitness Update: Five miles and I want to take this opportunity to say I think my neighbor is either testing me or trying to kill me by wanting to run earlier and earlier.
The service was lovely, poignant and yet a happy memory of a life well-lived. We met with their family afterwards and reminisced with some friends we hadn't seen in a long time.
My friend had done a lot of work to get everything coordinated for the memorial service. I suppose I hadn't thought about what would need to be done when a parent dies before. There was so much to be done. One of the first things was writing the obituary. How do you summarize a life? What do you leave out? How do you capture the essence of a person in a few words? I don't know, but my mother does.
My mother is an organized person who plans ahead. My mother has written both her and my father's obituaries in advance, in the case something were to happen to either of them. My mother has given me copies of these obituaries for future need. I dutifully filed them with the other important documents of theirs she had shared and thought not much more about them.
When my friend's mother died, she and I talked on the phone. She was struggling because she didn't know what to put in her mother's obituary. I told her I could share my parent's if that would give her some guidance and she said that would be helpful. She told me later how helpful they had been in giving her some direction. She also told me it was a lot of work to figure out everything her mother had done and get it all summarized.
I happened to be having this conversation in our kitchen at movie night when a friend of ours was listening in. When he realized my mother had written their obituaries already he turned to me and said, "that's a gift." I agreed with him completely, it is a tremendous gift. It is a gift I didn't even begin to appreciate until just recently.
The Big Boy Update: My son isn't allowed to take toys into school. The other morning he had something he really wanted to show to his friends, so he asked me, "could you take a picture of my spy gear so I can show it to my friends?" I told him I would. I'm not sure how the picture was going to make it to class, but it was the idea of taking a picture of the item when the item itself wasn't allowed, that impressed me.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: "Where is Gramp's bear?" My father got my daughter the smallest little purple stuffed bear I've ever seen something like a year ago. It's about two inches tall and it's arms and legs move and my daughter loves it. It gets lost and found over time, mostly lost knowing how my children move toys around. Last night she wanted Gramp's bear to go to bed. Fortunately, I had seen it only minutes before. It's too small to hug, but I think she tried.
Fitness Update: Five miles and I want to take this opportunity to say I think my neighbor is either testing me or trying to kill me by wanting to run earlier and earlier.
Wednesday, May 27, 2015
The Silent Service
I had to take my iPhone in to the Apple store today because there were issues with the Bluetooth for a while. I checked in, waited in the designated spot for my Genius Bar technician and in short order a man came out and greeted me.
We shook hands and then he pointed to his iPad, put it on the table and typed to me that he was here to help me and what was the issue I'd been experiencing? He was deaf, I realized. He asked if I could type in the iPad as well for our conversation.
What followed was one of the best experiences I've ever had in an Apple store. The technician and I got along very well. We both were quick typists and were able to get to the bottom of the problem in short order with him asking me questions and me answering via a text editor on his iPad. He said they would need to replace the phone and he would be right back with a new one. We erased the old one and I started the restore from iCloud with the new one. We realized there was an iOS update that had to be installed before the phone install could continue. We decided I would work on that while he went to his next customer and would check back in on me from time to time, which was fine by me since watching a progress bar progress from left to right is dull business indeed.
During the time we were working together, we talked about the Apple watch. He picked on me because I was buying a white sports band, why not something with color? I told him I was boring and we laughed. We talked about battery life, how we both liked to exercise in the mornings and our concerns on how the battery drained with high-use. We speculated on after market watch bands, and what the second generation of the Apple watch might be like. And we did it all through a text editor on his iPad.
The thing is, I did type all that, but we looked at each other's faces and I just remember the conversations themselves, not that I was talking via a written medium. I shook his hand as I left with my newly working replacement phone and told him thank you.
If I have to go back for technical support, he'd be the person I'd ask for without a doubt.
The Big Boy Update: My son told me, "I want to be inside the TV." It must have been a good show he was watching earlier, I thought.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: "You be Anne and I'll be Susan." My daughter has been asking me to role play with her lately. Most commonly, she wants us to be her two teachers. She'll ask me to be one of the two teachers, then say, "tap me on the shoulder." When I do, she'll say, "you can get ready to go outside now," or something else that I'm guessing is related to what's happening in her classroom. Sometimes we're also princesses and take turns being Elsa and Anna.
Fitness Update: I went to the gym today and then ran two miles before dinner. It was hot for the run.
We shook hands and then he pointed to his iPad, put it on the table and typed to me that he was here to help me and what was the issue I'd been experiencing? He was deaf, I realized. He asked if I could type in the iPad as well for our conversation.
What followed was one of the best experiences I've ever had in an Apple store. The technician and I got along very well. We both were quick typists and were able to get to the bottom of the problem in short order with him asking me questions and me answering via a text editor on his iPad. He said they would need to replace the phone and he would be right back with a new one. We erased the old one and I started the restore from iCloud with the new one. We realized there was an iOS update that had to be installed before the phone install could continue. We decided I would work on that while he went to his next customer and would check back in on me from time to time, which was fine by me since watching a progress bar progress from left to right is dull business indeed.
During the time we were working together, we talked about the Apple watch. He picked on me because I was buying a white sports band, why not something with color? I told him I was boring and we laughed. We talked about battery life, how we both liked to exercise in the mornings and our concerns on how the battery drained with high-use. We speculated on after market watch bands, and what the second generation of the Apple watch might be like. And we did it all through a text editor on his iPad.
The thing is, I did type all that, but we looked at each other's faces and I just remember the conversations themselves, not that I was talking via a written medium. I shook his hand as I left with my newly working replacement phone and told him thank you.
If I have to go back for technical support, he'd be the person I'd ask for without a doubt.
The Big Boy Update: My son told me, "I want to be inside the TV." It must have been a good show he was watching earlier, I thought.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: "You be Anne and I'll be Susan." My daughter has been asking me to role play with her lately. Most commonly, she wants us to be her two teachers. She'll ask me to be one of the two teachers, then say, "tap me on the shoulder." When I do, she'll say, "you can get ready to go outside now," or something else that I'm guessing is related to what's happening in her classroom. Sometimes we're also princesses and take turns being Elsa and Anna.
Fitness Update: I went to the gym today and then ran two miles before dinner. It was hot for the run.
Tuesday, May 26, 2015
Picnic Playdate
My children wanted to have a picnic today. My husband and I were busy with someone who had come to meet with us and we largely weren't doing much to supervise them. When our visitor left, I went up to find them in their bedroom having an indoor picnic.
They had laid out my daughter's largest blanket in the middle of the room. There was the toy picnic basket from their cabinets in the kitchen with real food in it—food I had given them without realizing where they were going to take it. (Usually they're very good about only eating food in eating areas or outside.)
They had a "birthday cake" made out of Duplo Legos and there was a lot of talking about Ghi Ghi, Gah Gah and Pahmer. I came up and listened in to what they were doing. I heard my son say, "mama?" I answered and he said, "no, Reese mama." I realized my daughter was being the mother in their imagination game when she answered him. Then he asked, "where's the baby?" They found a baby, got together with their other imaginary friends and had a nice picnic. I was given some cake (a Lego piece) and then laughing ensued.
The Big Boy Update: My husband came upstairs during the picnic my children were having in their bedroom this afternoon. My son has become interested in whispering things to you of late. He whispered to my husband, "daddy, tomorrow Reese and me are getting married."
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: When my children are doing imagination playing with each other, there's a lot of interaction between the two children. My daughter, however, doesn't need another friend to play with though. Yesterday she had an ongoing conversation with her hands, some crackers and some other invisible people. She animated their actions with her hands and changed her voice for some of them.
Fitness Update: I ran five miles this morning and then decided to do a quick twenty-five minute upper body workout in the fitness room in our neighborhood since I haven't had any activity for my upper arms lately other than swinging to and fro while I run.
They had laid out my daughter's largest blanket in the middle of the room. There was the toy picnic basket from their cabinets in the kitchen with real food in it—food I had given them without realizing where they were going to take it. (Usually they're very good about only eating food in eating areas or outside.)
They had a "birthday cake" made out of Duplo Legos and there was a lot of talking about Ghi Ghi, Gah Gah and Pahmer. I came up and listened in to what they were doing. I heard my son say, "mama?" I answered and he said, "no, Reese mama." I realized my daughter was being the mother in their imagination game when she answered him. Then he asked, "where's the baby?" They found a baby, got together with their other imaginary friends and had a nice picnic. I was given some cake (a Lego piece) and then laughing ensued.
The Big Boy Update: My husband came upstairs during the picnic my children were having in their bedroom this afternoon. My son has become interested in whispering things to you of late. He whispered to my husband, "daddy, tomorrow Reese and me are getting married."
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: When my children are doing imagination playing with each other, there's a lot of interaction between the two children. My daughter, however, doesn't need another friend to play with though. Yesterday she had an ongoing conversation with her hands, some crackers and some other invisible people. She animated their actions with her hands and changed her voice for some of them.
Fitness Update: I ran five miles this morning and then decided to do a quick twenty-five minute upper body workout in the fitness room in our neighborhood since I haven't had any activity for my upper arms lately other than swinging to and fro while I run.
Monday, May 25, 2015
Hot Buns
My children like hotdog cinnamon toast. Recently I got some of those square, small dinner rolls/buns of the same potato roll brand. I wasn't sure what I was going to do with them, but the other morning I decided to surprise my children with a collection of small bread squares when they came down for breakfast and let them pick what they wanted on each one.
As they arrived, they had five small, hot, buttered squares, ready for toppings. Normally, with their english muffins, they only get two choices. There are days when there has very nearly been a tantrum from one child or the other because they couldn't have three choices (we do one topping per piece of bread.)
They looked at the little pieces of bread and...were confused. They liked the shape but they weren't sure what to select (even though they could pick all of their favorite things.) I helped them make some choices and then they asked me what the bread was called. I told them they were smaller than the hot dog buns, but were the same bread. My son said, are they, "hot buns?" I told him that that sounded like a good name and that dropping the "dog" out of the name made a lot of sense to me.
Tomorrow I'm going to serve, "hot buns" again and see if they remember the name after several days.
The Big Boy Update: My son was outside the other day because I had told the children they needed to spend some time outside in the nice weather. A few minutes later my son stuck his head in the door and asked me, "can I come inside? I don't want a hummingbird to get pollen me."
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Head bash. My children were heading out to the backyard with me to clean up all the balls and random toys they'd been playing with before taking a bath. As my son and I headed down the stairs, we heard a thump. My daughter cried out and then she started doing that injury-type cry parents don't like to hear. My husband came to see what had happened, said there was blood, so we all came inside. Heads bleed a lot, quickly and then mostly stop. It was a centimeter gash and a large lump, but she was fine about three minutes later. She didn't even seem to mind when I carefully brushed her hair as I dried it. She is my trooper.
Fitness Update: Fourteen miles in nice, spring weather on Memorial Day. Running all those calories off made it easy to eat a lot at the cookout we went to later in the day.
As they arrived, they had five small, hot, buttered squares, ready for toppings. Normally, with their english muffins, they only get two choices. There are days when there has very nearly been a tantrum from one child or the other because they couldn't have three choices (we do one topping per piece of bread.)
They looked at the little pieces of bread and...were confused. They liked the shape but they weren't sure what to select (even though they could pick all of their favorite things.) I helped them make some choices and then they asked me what the bread was called. I told them they were smaller than the hot dog buns, but were the same bread. My son said, are they, "hot buns?" I told him that that sounded like a good name and that dropping the "dog" out of the name made a lot of sense to me.
Tomorrow I'm going to serve, "hot buns" again and see if they remember the name after several days.
The Big Boy Update: My son was outside the other day because I had told the children they needed to spend some time outside in the nice weather. A few minutes later my son stuck his head in the door and asked me, "can I come inside? I don't want a hummingbird to get pollen me."
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Head bash. My children were heading out to the backyard with me to clean up all the balls and random toys they'd been playing with before taking a bath. As my son and I headed down the stairs, we heard a thump. My daughter cried out and then she started doing that injury-type cry parents don't like to hear. My husband came to see what had happened, said there was blood, so we all came inside. Heads bleed a lot, quickly and then mostly stop. It was a centimeter gash and a large lump, but she was fine about three minutes later. She didn't even seem to mind when I carefully brushed her hair as I dried it. She is my trooper.
Fitness Update: Fourteen miles in nice, spring weather on Memorial Day. Running all those calories off made it easy to eat a lot at the cookout we went to later in the day.
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