Eye Candy

This is one of my

favorite pictures ~  Uncle

Pete, Baby boy cheeks.

Thirty one/twenty

one blogging challenge starts in 

4.  Hoarding posts now.

Back!

What's this?  A post?!?!  Hold onto your hats everyone, I know it's been a while.

Jeez, I hardly know where to begin or what to write about.  Apart from losing Maude, things have  actually been.... GOOD.  I know in writing that the universe will be forced to squash my exuberance by sending us more plumbing problems or a three year old hospital bill, but I'm going to try to enjoy it for a bit and, since y'all put up with my venting the rest of the time, I like to reassure you it's not always gloom & doom around here.

The Boy, with the electrical board he got for his birthday.
Hie thee to engineering school, young man!

Health?  The last come-get-your-kid call from daycare was a full two weeks ago.  That might almost be a record.  *I* have a snaky lingering cough but haven't missed work and it hasn't stopped me from running lately.

Which I have been doing!  After spending six months on the couch, I dug my running shoes out of the deep recesses of the closet, shook out the spiders, and applied liberally to my feet.  I've even moved (slowly) past that painful start up, single, 20 minute-I think I'm having a coronary-mile.  I'm not running as often, far, or as fast as I'd like, nor have I magically dropped 20#, but even my little somethin' is a vast improvement over the ass-widening last six months.  I might even sign up for another half marathon this fall, for a little motivation and to snag another T-shirt.  

NOT running shoes.
We were late for speech, I grabbed The Girl's sandal, and...
yeah. 

The weather has not helped with the running.  We're in the middle of a brutal heat wave, so most of my recent miles have been on the treadmill in the musty basement (which doesn't help the cough) - but we have been going to the pool almost every day I'm home.  The Boy can now swim underwater from one side of the pool to the other and the The Girl has been jumping into my arms from the ledge.  Today she even released her Grip of Death and bobbed around in her floatie (this is huge!).  Finding swim lessons has been a colossal FAIL but I'll resume the search on Monday.

Work?  I try not to write about it too much, especially since I may have been xxxxx enough to check this previously anonymous site from my work computer, but it had been, um, hard lately.  Really hard.  But there was a long conversation/general clearing of the air which broke the tension and, bizarrely - because it changed nothing - made me feel better.  I have less flexibility now - which really, actually, makes my life IMPOSSIBLE (see above, re: calls from daycare), but I can still work 4x10s, so am home on Wednesdays with the kids, and Matt's schedule is flexible, so we'll figure it out.  Ultimately, I really enjoy what I do and since I keep picking the wrong lottery numbers, this is the new normal.  So there.  Cryptic enough for you?

This is the best part:  in four-ish months my commute will be cut by more than half.  From 35 miles one way, to 15.  You know what that is?  TIME.  Precious, precious, life sustaining, family building, sanity preserving TIME.  90% of my kvetching here has got to be about work/life balance issues, yes?  But the great gods of Corporate America have just given me back 80 minutes a day.  80 minutes to spend with my children.  80 minutes to make them a dinner that doesn't come out of a box, to yell at The Boy about his homework, to work on The Girl's fine motor skills, maybe even work on potty training, to go running, to go on a bike ride with The Boy, to have a dance party with The Girl, to take them both out for ice cream, to unearth the vacuum cleaner, maybe even use it, and maybe even to go running with our e'er shedding dogs.  80 minutes to tuck the munchkins in and read them an extra story without stifling that voice in my head that's yelling, "SERIOUSLY!? JUST GO THE EFF TO SLEEP. I HAVE TO BE UP IN 6 HOURS."  80 minutes to check in with you guys, leave the occasional comment, and to maybe even spend some time with my husband.

OK.  I might need more than 80 minutes to do all that.  But for all that is sweet and glorious, it sure as hell helps.

[For all the eco-judgers out there, there was a whole string of decisions and factors that led us to buy where we did.  It wasn't because we hate Mother Earth and are trying to choke her with our gasoline emissions.  Not that you wouldn't know it by the oceans of gas we've been burning these last years.]

With Aunt Mary at MoBot during the Chinese Festival.
That Dragon is made out of... china.  Plates & cups, specifically:

What else?  This is the first weekend we haven't had visitors and/or fun things planned in six weeks.  Aunt Mary was here (when The Boy got sick on his birthday - boo!), Tima was here the following weekend (yeah!  rescheduled party!), I went to CA to see my little sister graduate high school (whaaa?), we went to the Lake of the Ozarks to celebrate my 40th birthday (*gulp*)... I think I'm forgetting something.  Oh yes!  Last weekend, in which the washing machine ran for 48 continuous hours because we hadn't done laundry in 5 weeks.  I think next weekend might be open but then.... WE ARE GOING TO THE NDSC CONVENTION IN DC!  I can't wait to meet you guys!  (Yes, even YOU).  Any fellow-eventers wishing to de-lurk, now's your chance.  Also, any other cheapskates skipping the big banquet, let me know - we're having a pizza party in our room on Saturday.

I still want to write about the graduation, I have a bunch of miscellaneous idle thoughts & tidbits on special needs I'm going to lump into one post, and at some point I will be forced to vent about the amount of money we're spending on private therapy this summer because Oh, Dear G*d, The Money... but then I will joyfully announce that WE HAVE WORD APPROXIMATIONS.

YES WE DO.

When it rains

Oy.  You know those days where the BEST thing you can say is that no one lost a limb and you managed to park the car without driving it through the far side of the garage?  That would be today.  
     (Extended) Family crisis?  Emphatic check. 
     Hurt feelings? (mine, over something silly)  Check. 
     Troubling work issues?  Check. 
     Sprained hamstring forcing me to give up my precious heels?  Check.
     Small child who has refused to sleep for two (!) nights in a row
     because of the #$%^&* rainstorms?  Check.
     Blown Plumbing Gasket-y thing?  Check - Oh no, wait, that was last week.  

AND WE ARE OUT OF WINE.  

Two Mondays ago I came into work to find waterlogged ceiling panels strewn across my desk.  Shortly followed by a day of huffing mildew.  This past Saturday I was - wait for it - at work when Matt called to announce a pipe or something had broken in the upstairs bath and the light fixtures were dripping.  Things seem to have gone downhill from there.

Today is the type of day to remember the important stuff.  Like bathtub art.
Oh, look!  It's a water theme!

And sweet girls

And sweet boys

And missing teeth

[Tooth Fairy Inflation:  What happens at 5am when you realize you fell 

asleep without running up to the gas station for change]

And grown up boys 

And family trips to the zoo.  

The Girl with her Aunt & Uncle.

Six other random good things:
- I didn't get a ticket tonight driving home at 70 with the cop behind me.  70 in MO is like 85 in SoCal. Maybe 90.  I never got a ticket going 80mph in SoCal.  Here? I'm passing 94% of traffic at 70 and got pulled over once going 72.

- Matt is secretively planning a weekend away.  I'm not supposed to know about it.  He's good people.

- When my brother & his wife came to visit they brought home-cured salmon.  YUM.

- I played "zaniest" in WWF for 81 points.  Heh.

- When The Girl fell this weekend and cut her lip open she didn't need stitches, and when something small and fanged left a bunch of huge angry welts on the The Boy they were better by this morning - which I knew because I'd marked the edges with Sharpie (that would be spelled p.a.r.a.n.o.i.d.).

- The flood resulting from the broken thinga-ma-bob dried more or less without ruining anything.  Or so the professional insurance guy says.  If I start getting unaccountably cheerful, it's probably because I'm huffing mildew.  

Me(me), Part II.

Update:  Still exhausted.  I fell asleep on the couch last night at 7:30 and was upstairs in bed properly asleep by 9.  After sniping at my husband for breathing.  In the same room.  I KNOW, RIGHT?  I'm such a charmer.  I may be flirting with a virus.  Or... A shrink might tell me this is some post traumatic depressive episode because of how I feel about April in general and this week, especially tomorrow, in particular but I am a [Familial name] and we don't believe in such emotional pishposh. 

So we will continue with the frivolity and fun that is my MEME!

Eleven Random Things, Part II:
Yesterday I had the day off and thought I might have time to scrounge around in the basement for all my old Paris-Alaskan-LAPD pictures to scan them for yesterday's post (charming and organized!) but when I wasn't waiting in four different carpool lines I was barefoot in the kitchen making a pot roast for the family and...

7.  WW's zero point vegetable soup.  Because I started a diet on Monday.  Is that really a Random Item?  Doesn't quite measure up to "Hey, I used to be armed & dangerous!" but this is a real thing.  I'm 7-9# over the high end of my usual 5# swing, which is close enough to 10#, which is pretty darn close to TWENTY pounds over where I was last year this time. Which was still an egregiously large number over where I was in college.  UNACCEPTABLE.  I've only formally "dieted" a couple times post-baby - I usually just scold myself in the morning while on the scale, eat a salad or something for lunch, but then end up stuffing my face at night.  Every now & then I manage to not stuff my face after 5 and call it a good day.  Ineffective.  This time I stole borrowed a little notebook from work for a food diary, wrote down my goal weight, meal plan, etc.  I am turning.... ah hell, might as well say it... FORTY years old this year.  It's only going to get harder here on out.  I have scaled walls, gutted fish, and patted down a homeless man.  I can do this.  
(Right?)   

8.  The first time I met my dear friend Aunt Mary, I was yelling at her friend & high school classmate, my little brother.  I don't actually remember this but she swears it's true.  Her aunt used to be my next door neighbor when I was a little thing; later she was my 7th grade English teacher when I was going thru the most godawful painful pre-teen year ever.  She was very kind, even though I wore a lot of black eyeliner and Aquanet and never did my homework.  Given the probability we met at her aunt's pool when I was little (ignoring the yelling-at-brother story), Mary & I have known each other for 30+ years - though we didn't really become friends till she caught a ride with us on the way to my brother's (college) graduation and we stopped for ice cream.  The words "Dairy Queen" still crack me up, ten years later.

The first time I met my awesome sister in law, Auntie Em', I was also yelling at someone.  All evidence to the contrary, I'm not really an angry person.  Really!  Or maybe just not anymore, given the wisdom of my  almost *gulp* 40 years.  My brother and his then new(ish?) girlfriend had driven half way across the country to visit and had parked in someone else's spot at our apartment complex.  The renter of said spot became completely unhinged over the inconvenience of waiting 3 minutes for us to move his car - but I must have looked even more deranged because her husband literally pulled her back.  It had been a long day and she was being ridiculous.  Apparently I make an impression.

E & M - I love you both.

No yelling!

9.  If you are ever in a serious car accident, I will be able to provide you my professional opinion as to the approximate value of your spleen, fractured arm, or arthroscopic knee surgery.  No one ever asks, though, which is probably a Good Thing, but it limits my social usefulness.  Talking about such things at cocktail parties (because I go to so many!) is not encouraged so I end up doing a lot of smiling & nodding.  Donchya wanna be friends with me now? 

I have a particular issue with motorcyclists and their body parts.  In the past 2 years, various riders have managed to misplace a kidney, a testicle, a left leg, and all movement in one right wrist.  Every time we pass a bike, I talk to my son about road rash and head injuries to program deep into his subconscious the horror that is riding along at 70 mph unprotected by sheet metal and airbags.

This is my favorite cartoon.  I'm probably breaking all sorts of copyright laws so read it quick before I get a cease & desist letter & have to take it down.  I should also get to work so... more tomorrow! 

(Belated) July Birthdays

Little sis: Tall, blond,

biker, (to be) PhD.

What's not to love?  (Horns!)

Dearest Em' - so glad

you married my bro!  My kids

and I adore you  

Ten years old?!  How can

that be? So wise, already.

 So much more to come!



Sabotage! and Schedules

This week has just kicked me in the rear.  I started this post last night and gave up after rewriting the same paragraph for the 3rd time.  No particular reason, I just felt like a bug squished on a dirty windshield.  I have a long post that I've been wanting to write all week but I couldn't pull it together and now only have a little time before my niece's birthday - so y'all're getting more smorgasbord.  [Is this why people tweet?  Consider these long trial tweets.  I knew I'd get sucked in eventually.  Who wants to bet I'll be on facebook by Christmas?]

~~~ My brother & the rest of the family finally came back from their wildly long exotic sailing trip.  I didn't mention they were gone because I didn't want my internet addiction to be blamed if their homes were robbed*, but it's been terribly quiet these last few weeks.  My brother & I either have similar work tempos or the same level of ADD because we email.  A LOT.  Instead, I sent out sad little missives to random other people who didn't think I was nearly as funny as he does and who don't think emailing back & forth 37x a day is normal.  This bit, of course, is in no way intended to guilt him into getting thru the 400+ emails he mentioned so he can start entertaining me at work again.
     *Except they were anyway.  Maybe not so much "robbed", as shenanigans with the cat sitter who crashed my baby sister's car, but drama nonetheless.  And she gave him the keys, which was an allegedly questionable call.  And her insurance carrier just offered her twice what she paid for the thing.  And there's that whole "exotic sailing trip" thing.  So you have my permission not to feel sorry for her.  (Sorry, C!)

~~~ In the last nine days, I managed to miss my niece's, my sister's, AND my sister in law's birthdays because I am a terrible, terrible person.  We mailed my son's lovingly crafted cards (Ha! Though those were late too, natch) but I forgot to call on the actual days thereof.  It was made tragic when I emailed the family a not-at-all subtle hint thereabouts, perhaps even on of one of their actual birthdays, about my daughter's desperate need for more Signing Time DVDs, in celebration of the 3rd anniversary of HER arrival into this world.  Except that auspicious day is weeks away.  Nice.  They will be getting their very own birthday posts & haikus forthwith.  Happy Belated Birthday Everyone!

~~~ I'm now convinced Matt is trying to sabotage my blogging career.  After trying to make my laptop die faster, he did finally get it running again (and I'll concede it was zippier) but his Dexter-like tendencies got the better of him and on Wednesday he dumped a glass of chardonnay on it.  We now have a new no drinking and (hard-)driving rule.  It dried for two days and he swears it'll work just fine - as soon as we hook up the spare monitor and order a new keypad.  I wanted to keep the current one as it smells like butter (with hints of citrus and pear) but its little circuits seem to have fermented.  Also, the whole point of a laptop is that it's portable - usb cables and separate screens remind me of work.  The laptop lets me kick back in bed with pillows and a glass of win...  oh. 

~~~ And last, as much fun as continuously complaining about my lack of sleep & funky running times would be, I'm going to try a Brand New Schedule.  I even wrote it out (what can I say? I'm a geek visual learner).  I've been staying up later & later (& getting to work later & later) and my TV watching had skyrocketed because I'd be wide awake after running at 10pm and trying to wind back down.  I just gave away all my books in January because I didn't have time to read anymore - yet I've recently found myself at 12:30 in the morning on my third House*.  T.R.A.I.N. W.R.E.C.K.   We'll see how this works - stay tuned for another thrilling edition of Suburban Working Mom Trying to Do It All!
     *In the theme of always being late to the party, WHY didn't I start watching this sooner?  I love-love-love the one offs.  The random statistically impossible events which make me tick are the entire theme of the show!  Actually I do know why...  I have my very own brilliant-yet-difficult people in my life (hi dad!) and the first show I watched, when I initially decided (wrongly) that I didn't like it, just came up in repeats, and it involved a pregnant woman and sick baby.  Blech. That one was deleted.  But the rest?  Fun!

Of Trains, Freaks, Zombies, & Mama Bears

[A post 3 weeks in the making!] 

So the boy and I took Amtrak out to Kansas City for my big race.  A bit over 5 hours but if you factor out the time for airport security and the risk we'd never get on a plane flying standby, and add in the comfy seats and the lure of a train to a 6 year old, it was a great trip.  Plus, it was the boy's birthday present from his uncle and offered incredible people watching for me so win-win.  Any sociologist in need of paper ideas needs to scoot down to Amtrak post-haste.  Bizarre and awesome mix of suburbanites taking their (mostly male) kids on an Exciting Train Adventure and others who, forgive me for making snap superficial judgments, but others who probably don't have the personal auto/airplane options available to them.  Particularly delightful was the contact high I got from the lady who leaned up against me as I was getting something out of our bag & asked if I worked there.  In case you're curious, I was wearing a black T-shirt, not a white button down with epaulets.  I must have that bureaucratic stench about me. 

Also noteworthy was the incredibly creepy guy sitting in front of us.  When we got on the conductor gave us two separate aisle seats & told us to ask someone to move.  Fine.  For a second I was thinking we had to wait for the train to take off, like a plane, so I told the boy to sit down in front (next to creepy guy) for a few minutes but... No.  I'm not making any claims of super mom intuition but it just seemed wrong.  Pasty middle aged guy, my kid... No.  [And, genius, I realized we didn't need to wait to reach cruising altitude].  So the gal next to me agreed to switch and we settled in.  Except creepy guy kept chiming in to our conversations.  The seat backs were high & he couldn't see us but he was listening...  Yech.  I ignored him & took my son with me when I visited the loo so in all it was a non-event but still, maybe a little intuition? 

A LOT of people talk to my kids.  They're both really stinking cute & my son is hyper-friendly (I know it's bizarre, but I'm fairly certain he's mine) but he needs to not tell everyone who asks what his name is & where he goes to school.  We've been working on that.  I've also been trying to tell him that private parts are private... but he's asking for more & more parameters (who? when? why?).  I get the feeling the boys are talking at school...?  I am so very much not prepared for this.  He also asked me again last night how babies get out of the mommies' tummies.  It feels too soon to provide a technical description but maybe it's just me who's not ready?  But then we need to have these conversations NOW because he's 6 (wait, only 6?  What the hell am I talking about?  But then there are creepy guys out there on trains.  Parental confusion!) 

White shirt.  Epaulets.  Official looking hat.  NOT mom in black T-shirt.

Anyway, after we got to Kansas City we did a couple errands (new running hat!), carbo-loaded (my SIL is an excellent cook), and then ventured out to First Friday, which is when the art district opens all the galleries, the street vendors come out ...and the flash mobs emerge.  My first flash mob!  Its mere proximity caused my coolness quotient to skyrocket.  Except, NO.  It was a zombie mob with a freakishly large number of people, who poured a freakish amount of time and detail and gore into their costumes, and who had clearly practiced their freakishly realistic limps and moaning.  We were sitting on a bench enjoying our icees when they started streaming past (passed?) - I covered the boy's eyes because he's just a 6 year old kid and doesn't need those pictures in his head.  Surprisingly, he didn't object.  I was marveling at it all until one JERK reached for my kid, the one with his head buried in my arms, with a dripping brain-thing in his hands.  Good thing I can cuss up a blue streak.  No one ever expects the suburban mom to get rage-y.  I found out later it was all for a good cause but still, not cool.   

However, I just found this video on YouTube and now that my son isn't with me I think it's kind of funny again.  Weird - undeniably weird - but funny.  The 2011 video seems kind of tame.  If you're bored and click around, there are other zombie videos that better capture the lurching & moaning we saw.  Also, on the zombie website above, there are "zombie rules" posted (don't drip on the sidewalk!  don't assault small children!); drippy JERK was not in compliance, so I'll try not to hate on the next zombie flash mob I run into.  [Because clearly running into another one is just a matter of time!?].

I once heard that you spend the first 10 years of your child's life protecting them from the outside world (sharp knives, viruses, creepy train guys, & zombies) and the next 10 protecting them from themselves (binge drinking, sports cars, & the tramp in his english class).  We're 66% of the way through the first part.  It's a little nerve wracking & exhausting, this parenting gig.  Good thing they're cute!

The Wedding, Part III

The Rehearsal:

My sister went Full Girl for this wedding. Notice the flower in the hair? HA! Not her usual M.O. I won’t shame her by mentioning the matching flowers on her shoes. (oops)

Easy to be inspired when you happen to have a retired Manhattan florist extraordinaire on the job.  I would have linked to what is now his son's store, because he was awesome & larger than life, but apparently he's being shy, so as not to annoy the locals.  Neat guy.  Apparently all sorts of shockingly talented people retire to Montana - not that it's not gorgeous there, but I had no idea it was the next boomer state.

We had stopped by [his] home Saturday morning to check out the miracle of Fed Ex's international overnight delivery.  And the miracle of nature ....& thousands of years of human intervention.   

I do ADORE cut flowers.  How very bourgeois of me!

Doesn't she look like ET here?  Wearing Tima's jacket.

Helping!

Unhappy about something.

Unhappy about something AGAIN.  Did I mention it was a long weekend with my girl?  Loved my time with her, loved seeing my family, but solo parenting in a hotel room, sans yard, toys, or separate room for naptime was not ideal.  She was crankier than usual what with all the extra people, missing toys, & disrupted routines.  And I was maybe less than fully patient as I had all but entirely abandoned my maid matron of honor duties and felt guilty.  Nevermind the skipped rafting trip. 

Maybe I'm unhappy at this ridiculous bow, mom. 
[Also noting the scraped nose while exploring florist's driveway. 
Just in time for photos!]



There we go - a smile!  Feeding the beast sometimes helps



But it was not to last.  The Cranky Baby Patrol, taking her away.

That's my elbow in this picture:

I come by my photo-phobia honestly.  My younger-younger brother:

My middle-younger brother.  That's him about to flip me off. 

Good thing I like his wife.

I have no pictures of the rehearsal night dinner but it's just as well, given how many I already crammed into this post.  I do have LOTS of grainy blurry artistic shots of the reception itself.  If you look close you might even see one of me getting my Elaine on.  Coming soon to a monitor near you.

The Nitty Gritty

Someone once told me, probably in an effort to curb the profanity, that swearing was a sign of an unimaginative mind.  As you can see from my last post, I clearly took that advice to heart.  I learned in the crib and then honed my craft during two summers on a fishing tender in Alaska.  You have not heard colorful language until you do something so asinine you should have lost your arm if there were any justice at all the world in front of a salty old fisherman who hasn't slept in 48 hours.  I suppose I should be able to describe the fact that I finished that @#$%^&* race in the King's English, but yesterday I could not have expressed any more succintly how hard it was, how relieved I was it was over, how happy I was that I did it, how frustrated I was with myself during it, how much I loved the fact that my brother & I did this together, and how proud I am of myself.

But today everyone is either working, napping, or heading home, so I get to relive my moments in the sun at length.  And, Oh!  The sun...  My brother & I got up early to eat toast & peanut butter and were simply delighted to learn that it was already 79 degrees at 6am.  Which was clearly a factor in the fact that I never clicked into quiet running mode.  There was no much-hyped runner's high.  Disappointing.  I was frustrated with myself because I spent much of the race trying to talk myself into the moment, and out of walking.  If it were any other training day I would have cut it short and tried later when my head was more in the game (lookit me with the sports talk!).  And I did walk a couple-three (four?) times for brief stints, in addition to unnecessary lingering at the water stations, but dammit I did run up ALL the hills.  And, Oh! The hills!  There were a lot of them and they were (@#$%^&#$%) STEEP.  I was more or less OK thru mile 8, and even got a boost when my SIL and son were waiting for us on a corner but telling myself that I only had 5 more miles to go, and you can run 5 miles, of course you can!, was a theory rejected.  The next 4 miles felt like 20. 

There were, of course, ambulances on scene, and we even saw one middle aged guy getting an IV at mile 4 (which might be an interesting tangent about pity which I heartily reject -because, obviously- but I was quite guilty of feeling it in the moment because even I wasn't that bad off at mile 4, the poor schlub)... anyway, I was lingering so close to the dark edge mentally, I was wondering how close I was physically to dropping, because being tended to in an air conditioned truck with handsome EMTs didn't sound so bad. And that was mightily frustrating.  Because my breathing was fine, my hip/sciatic hurt but not debilitatingly so, it was just my head that didn't show up for the race.  My brother was FABULOUS -  He stayed with me, even when I waved him on (dramatically - No! Leave me! Save yourself race time!) and we finished together.  Even though he could have clearly finished much faster solo.  Love you P.  You're my favorite middle-younger brother.

But I did take all the hills, and I even sprinted* at the end - actually, for the last MILE or so, right after the last (mother of a...) hill, hysterically because I was positive the finish line was closer.  So I clearly had something in reserve.  Next race (oh YES, there will be a next race!), I'll have to figure out how to spread the energy around a bit more.  In all, mixed results.  Deep reservoir of grit and determination?  Wily elusive little bastard.
*"Sprinting", of course, being relative.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 
My social calender has exceeded my posting abilities.  Left to cover:  The rest of my sister's wedding/pictures (fun! wine!), the train ride with my son out to Kansas City for the race (people watching! creepy guy! kids-with-technology!), Friday night's street fair (people watching! zombies!) and our Buddy Walk Step Up for Down Syndrome Walk this morning (why did they change the name!?).  Also, I think, the cicadas - because all of a sudden it is really LOUD outside.

We interrupt our Wedding Broadcast to bring you an Important Announcment

Fuck YEAH!

Vignettes, Part I

They're Married!  Where to begin?  First, Matt & the boy weren't able to make it to the wedding for reasons passing understanding (or, at least passing explanation).  I was more than a mite irritated initially but it wasn't the end of the world - the groom's brother assumed ring bearer role, there was plenty of daddy/boy bonding at the movies and McDonald's, and daddy got some much needed sleep.  We weren't able to draft off the wedding vendors and get professional family photos taken, & I have bruises on my shoulders from lugging 270# of toddler gear, snacks, & entertainment through three airports alone but if that's the worst of it then we'll live to fight another day. 

About a third of the rest of it, in no particular order:
~~~There were two hairdressers at the hotel for the bride, handmaids, and other takers on the big day.  They were young, stunningly beautiful, & could have easily just flown in from Manhattan.  As she was getting her up-do, my step mom was telling us she saw two bears on her hike that morning.  I asked if she had to use the bear spray (It's a real thing!  Who knew?) - one of them laughed (at us) and said, "I'm from Montana.  We don't mess around with bear spray, I carry a .45"  The other one moonlights as a firefighter.  Love it.

~~~My brother & I did our last "long" run before our upcoming race on Montana's fire roads.  Another wedding guest with full marathons under her belt joined us.  The thing about fire roads is that they tend to be in the woods.  Which, in Montana, tend to grow in the "hills".  To normal people that actually means  "mountains".  My @** of a brother and his new running buddy jogged 2.5 miles uphill whilst chatting.  I was in my quiet place, music on, trying not to guess when the damn path would flatten out.  I faltered once, tried for a second wind, and failed again after rounding a bend and seeing the trail get steeper and wrap around more mountain.  They took pity on the newbie and we headed back downhill toward smoother ground - I did then get the necessary mileage in (albeit with zero grace or dignity), but it did not bode well for my participation in the Hospital Hill Half Marathon.  Also?  Deep reservoir of grit and determination?  MISSING.

~~~No, we didn't see any bears.  Then.  But I spent most of that run grimly staring 3 feet in front of me so I might've missed 'em.  I am also sure I missed some breathtaking views & scenery.  Too busy taking breaths.  (badda-bing).

~~~A small group of us hit two bars the night before the wedding.  I have not been to a "real" bar in years.  Maybe decades?  An older lady at one of them was wearing a long blond hairpiece.  Which we noticed because she kept taking it off and adjusting it.  By the time we left, her brunette friend was wearing it.  I clearly need to get out more.  And I need to bring my camera when I go.

~~~Our cabbie when leaving for the airport could not have been any nicer, more helpful, or a better conversationalist (which to me is akin to sorcery).  He told me he & his girlfriend bought a trailer and after he sells his cabbie business they're going to go see the rest of the country.  Their biggest expense will be gas, of course, but they plan to economize on food with bulk purchases and fishing, etc along the way.  Since they like fish, rabbit... and squirrel.  This did not strike me as noteworthy until we left the state. 

~~~They opened the pool!  I took my girl down the morning of the wedding but the regular pool was pretty cold and suspiciously cloudy.  She got in up to her knees then lost interest.  I sat in the hot tub for a couple minutes with her on the side, dangling her feet, but the hot tub was also suspiciously cloudy, and keeping baby entertained and not running on slippery tile wasn't relaxing.  But... tutus!

~~~We ended up having to fly into Springfield, Missouri, not far from the Arkansas & Oklahoma border (and also somewhat near Joplin, MO, scene of the recent horrific tornado strike).  There were two southern women sitting behind us on the plane.  One of them seemed to be a very nervous (new?) flyer.  There was a spectacular lightening storm off port side.  My girl was out, we were heading home, and I was half dozing myself and half listening to the nice southern ladies.  I couldn't hear what they were saying but I enjoyed the southern drawl and it struck me that they might've been singing [or playing something without headphones].  It sounded like church hymns.  I thought they may've been to sooth the nervous flyer.  It was all oddly cozy and pleasant when we suddenly got a leeetle bit too close to the storm and got caught in a downdraft.  One of the ladies screamed, "Jesus Lord, please save the babies!" 

I've written before about my ambivalence with religion but I could not have been any more on board with her at that moment then if I said it myself.  Not quite the atheist in a foxhole but same concept.  I grabbed my girl's head and we dropped again.  People were screaming & praying out loud.  My "final" profoundly intuitive and sentimental thought?  "Well, THAT figures."  The flight attendant came by a few minutes later to check on everyone and said that 1 in 5000 flights experience that level of turbulence - a girl after my own heart!  I tried to get Matt to find out how far we dropped but his flight tracker only showed a rate of descent.  Best he figured it was about 120'.  Which really doesn't sound like much (a day later) but that's a 10 story uncontrolled drop.  Wheeee!

I have more but it'll have to wait till tomorrow.  Apologies in advance for the forthcoming gratuitous blurry photo arrays!

Fast Hatter

These are from my brother & fellow racer's visit a couple weekends ago, taken on his phone.  If I were more organized, I would have written a brilliant comprehensive study on the remnants of imperialism as manifest in women's fashion, as witnessed in the hats at the recent royal wedding and the Kentucky Derby.  And I would have worked in a footnote about the anachronistic wedding veil, since my sister's wedding is in 5 days.  Um, yeah...  Instead I'll simply point out that my girl likes hats (just like her mom).   Though I will refer aficionados of the quirky to Slate, while MSN posted a gazillion shots of toppers I'd actually wear, given a bigger budget... and actual tickets to the race.  Um, yeah. 

Brimming with options
Whither our heads? Shade? Accent?
Loud horsed-assery.

Happy Birthday Little Brother

Pete’s Day of Entry

Welcome to Middle Age. May

Your knees bend sine die.

Ennui

I don't think I've missed a whole week blogging in a while now.  I had something funny planned about being buried underneath the laundry pile and unable to call for help, but then Sunday rolled around and that suddenly seemed trite. 

Then I wrote a long overwrought post about the last 10 years and righteous albeit imperfectly executed wars and certain people rotting in hell but I didn't post because I just don't feel it was my story.  Matt & I both know people variously impacted but neither of us lost anyone directly on either 9/11 or in the two wars since so although a citizen of this country, entitled to my opinion, freedom of speech, blah, blah - we've been relatively insulated.  And when I say "overwrought" it was eye rollingly cringe worthy. 

But since I do excel at self-mocking, I will share that on the morning of Matt woke me up to watch the news and I remember my first reaction was to think they were making something out of nothing, assuming it was a little Cessna, lost in the fog, or maybe with a mechanical problem.  Man - when I am wrong, I am really really wrong.

My brother came to visit this weekend and we ran a 5k on Saturday and then accidentally ran 8-9 miles on Sunday.  Because I cannot read a map and have NO sense of distance.  No, I have not yet recovered.  I still don't have Easter photos.  We haven't received my girl's IEP yet and she apparently has croup.  My son announced he was going to have kids in 10 years... when he's 16.  We took the little dog into an abusive colorblind groomer.  All good stuff.  Huh.  Seems like a good night for Jon Stewart & a glass of wine. 

Royal Tannenbaums?

Girl on a Mission

Seriously Undignified.  And not even matching.

Welcome to the 21st Century

Remember how I wrote I was a techno-phobe?  Well, brother told me my BATSH*T CRAZY PLAN was simply not going to work sans music.  I hemed & hawed but perked up when I realized Shuffles are only $50.  This is what happens when you wait 10 years to adopt new technology - the price comes down.  Genius!  I was about to bite when I mentioned The Plan to a co-worker (the more people I tell, the less likely I am to quietly slink off course.  I might be carried off on a stretcher in a blaze of bursted knee tendons, but there will be less humiliation if I get a note from my MD.  Behold the magic of peer pressure.) ...when said co-worker offered me an old Nano of his for $20.  Sold! 

[Pretend there's a picture of my new toy here....

I hurt too much to go upstairs to get the camera. 

Advil does NOT cure all]

First thought - See?  It pays to talk to people.  Will have to remember that.

Second - I just checked and this appears to be a first or second generation Nano but still, ohmygoodness, it is a thing of brilliance.  What was I waiting for?  Just because the masses are raving about something does not inherently make it wrong.  Will have to remember that too.  Note:  This does not apply to Twilight. 

Third - I've ignored all the fuss about Apple killing the music industry but I get it now.  Post college/pre-kids I bought a bunch of cds because I liked the one track that was getting airtime, only to find the other 9 songs were meh.  Not to say there weren't hidden gems and I have my favorite groups who put out nothing but winners but if given a choice, I'm going to buy the one song for $.99 $1.29.  If I were less bitter about the dozens of one hit wonders I previously bought, and if I had a bigger budget & more memory, I might be wont to explore, but not so much right now. 

Yes, this is a tacit condemnation of those artists whining because I don't want to buy their other 9 meh songs, but I also just bought an ipod-thingy, so they can comfortably ignore my opinion as there's a slight chance I may be slightly out of touch with the issues.  [Except I'm the consumer & already voted with my Visa].

Fourth - I have zero recall for names and titles.  I had to google lyrics to figure out who was what - FAMOUS lyrics.  My brother vetted my play list and I could hear him rolling his eyes at me over the phone when I told him who I had to look up.  Despite my New! Nano!  I am still hopeless uncool. 

He did laugh though when I listed my top songs:
     I Will Survive - Gloria Gaynor
     Stayin' Alive - BeeGees
     Fighter - Christina Aguilera
     Uprising - Muse

Anyone sensing a theme?  Other survival themed suggestions eagerly welcomed.  If I get desperate I might buy the Rocky theme song.  Or maybe Chariots of Fire?  I also need more hip hop, because the soulful rock ballads aren't cutting it 20 minutes in - but my brother was otherwise dead on about the music helping distract from The Pain.  On a bright note I ran 5 miles on Sunday and did not die.  So there's hope.  [Actually it was 4.8 but there were Hills].  Rumor has it I only have to get to 10 and then race day adrenaline will carry me the remaining 3 miles.  I have 6ish weeks left so in theory I can add a mile/week and it'll all be hunky-dory fun.  Riiiggghhhhhtttt.

Miscellaneous notes:  My brother ran his first half marathon this past weekend.  He called me after, giddy from his runner's high and his under 10 minute miles ("I felt great and thought about running the whole marathon but [his wife] was waiting"  - Ass).  He called me the next day, having crashed and hurting, but am still sending him a big public CONGRATULATIONS.  I've warned him my goal is to stay upright, not break the 9 minute mile, but if anyone is going to goad me over that finish line, it's him.

Also, after running one night my son came over to give me a hug.  I warned him I was sweaty & stinky but he gave me a hug anyway and said I wasn't that stinky (....wait for it...) because you didn't run that far.   Bedtime for you, kid!

Decisions made under Emotional Duress

I'm back!  Thanks for all the love over the last couple days.  I was fine, really - a few stealthy hiccups, a couple tissues, but there was no wailing or rending of garments in public*.   One of the advantages of being obnoxiously busy at work. 

Although...  in a sign that I had actually probably been driven clinically insane by grief, on Tuesday my brother talked me into running a half marathon with him.  In two months.  [Black humor anyone?  Too dark?]  Since my last post was so very long, I won't try to explain quite how hopeless, logistically impossible, and BATSHIT CRAZY this is.  It would be epic, a tome - the unabridged Oxford English Dictionary of reasons this is Not A Promising Plan. 

But the 26.2 mile run is on my bucket list.  Running half that will either be a good start or enough to convince me my list needs revising.  I'm turning *cough* soon (read: Major Milestone Birthday).  And since I have little'uns to care for I won't be jumping out of an airplane anytime soon ever.  Bit of a midlife stereotype, yes, but cheaper than getting a convertible.  How bad could it be?  (mirthless laughter).  I'm posting the plan here only to keep myself honest.  Though if I never mention it again... well, be kind.

I have photos of the most-cutest dress ever on my gorgeous gal but cannot find my camera (nor my sunglasses. See above re:  midlife), so the last of the vacation photos are below. 

      *Cate posted a link to this article by Emily Rapp a few days ago.  The author described exactly what I was trying to - using a lot less space.  She also wrote this:  "[It] felt straight out of a Victorian novel:  I was hysterical, inconsolable, stricken.  I had the urge to run down the street in pajamas (for lack of a period nightgown) tearing at my hair and wailing."   Which I wish I'd written. 

Miss CA's Bougainvillea



The Long Road.

 

That which does not grow in Missouri



The World's Smallest Puddle