The Fast and Slow of It

It's been pretty boring here on the homefront the last week or so. The sun is on hiatus and the house continues to grow smaller and smaller each day that the basement remains unfinished (and empty, since everything is crammed upstairs).

We (read: Josh) have also spent a lot of time sitting in time out contemplating our actions. Apparently, three minutes translates to 45 minutes and a tantrum inside Josh's head.

Saturday, I was (un)fortunate to run my first 5k of the season. I've been eagerly anticipating this day for roughly a year now, and so I was understandably upset to wake up last Monday morning with a sore throat.

I "nursed" my sore throat all week by sitting on the couch and demanding things be brought to me at my beckon call.

It became quite obvious at 10:00 Monday morning that this approach was not going to work. So I settled for just not exercising all week.

There is a school of thought that thinks that if you're sick from the neck up, you're okay to keep running. But I disagree. I think a sniffle is as good as an excuse as any to not exercise. And thus, keeping with my philosophy, I did nothing all week.

I can't tell you with any certainity that this shortened the duration of my sickness. I was considerably crabbier and my patience level was a tad bit shorter. Pretty impressive because as the scale of patience levels go, I hover near the bottom on a good day anyhow.

So on Saturday morning, after experiencing the worst night of sleep in my lifetime, I arrived at the starting line of the 5k, ill-prepared for a 3 mile jaunt in freezing temperatures. I had coerced my sister-in-law and two cousins to join me and all in all it was a good time. The course was mostly downhill, which helped pad my dismal time. After cruising down the first hill, my shoelace came untied and that sunk me. I had to stop to tie it. It took awhile because my fingers were so numb and I lost all momentum. I had visions of me sprinting past my SIL at the last possible second at the finish line, but they failed to materialize. I finished 24 seconds behind at 31:23. I can't say that I'm all that disappointed with my time considering all things. But...still....the winner came in at 13:56. While I'll never be that fast unless being chased by a bear--and even then, undoubtful--I would certainly like to close the gap a little bit. Better luck next time.

The only thing I got from the 5k race was a worsening cold and extremely sore legs. This does not a happy mom make. Sleep the last few nights has been induced by Nyquil--which I love. I love that 10 minutes after taking the medicine, I can feel myself slowly slipping away. What I hate, though, is having to wake up in the morning. I feel groggy all day and not much gets done. Not that much gets done anyways, but I usually have a good reason. Today, it's just that I need to take a(nother) nap.

Aunika had her four month check up yesterday. The doctor was impressed with how happy she seemed. When asked how long she sleeps, I answered 12 hours.

"12 hours, counting naps?" He asked, his fingers poised above the keyboard ready to type in my answer.

"No. She sleeps from 8:30 pm to 8:30 am and then takes a cat nap in the morning after her first feeding, a two hour nap in the afternoon, and another cat nap in the evening after her dinner feeding."

"Oh. That's very unusual. Normal babies sleep about two to four hours before waking up to eat in the middle of the night. You're really lucky."

You better believe it. And whatever I'm doing, I'm going to keep right on doing it. I love the 8:30 am wake up call. (Except, of course, when I'm on Nyquil).

Aunika weighs in at 14.3 oz and is 25 inches long. I think the length is off because the nurse didn't stretch her leg all the way out. She's probably closer to 25 1/2 or 26 inches. She's in the 75th percentile for both weight and height, so she's a big girl.

She was extremely happy the entire time, kicking her legs, laughing, giggling and cooing at the doctor, all the way up until they gave her her shots and then she looked at them with this look that said "hey, I was being cute here and then you go and do that?" and let out a big wail that took a while for me to calm down.

Afterwards, though, she was a perfect doll, even tolerating an extremely long trip to Costco. She put in another good night, and I think I'm safe to say that shots don't bother her like they do some kids. They didn't bother Josh either. Just lucky I guess.

This week will prove to be a bit more interesting. I signed up for a fitness boot camp thing with some friends and I'm giving my first speech in Toastmasters on Thursdays. Both activities should be rife with stories to share.