I've been having some lingering pains from my recent ordeal. I called the doctor's office and they were concerned enough to give me ANOTHER round of medicine over the weekend. After a hellish weekend, I called again to report that not much had changed and they were concerned enough to do another ultrasound.
$$$
But, I've heard horror stories of emergency hysterectomies and deaths and I didn't want either of these fates so I complied.
Cue same ultrasound room and same ultrasound tech, but luckily the news was somewhat better this time. Everything looked normal.
YAY! No surgery three days before Christmas.
When I talked to the nurse I said this:
"Okay, I'm officially declaring this ordeal over. I'm done with it and I'm moving on with my life. Tomorrow, I resume my running routine."
To which she laughed and said "sounds good."
Then I wished her a Happy Holidays and signed off by saying "I hope I don't talk to you for a very long time."
I mean, she was nice and everything but these weren't social calls I was making.
Argh. It's December 20th and this all started on December 1st. I'm happy it's OVER. The lingering pain I can deal with. I was just concerned that it would lead to an infection or something. But now I'm not.
Hello, beautiful New Year.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
A Not So Funny, But Very Long, Story
I had been sitting on this news since the end of October. I have a hard time sitting on news, especially exciting news, because I want to tell everyone!
But I was really good. I only told a few people I knew wouldn't tell everyone. Then on Thanksgiving we told our families.
My family was somewhat shocked. Wade's family was not as shocked. But everyone was excited.
I told the people I wanted to know personally and not from a post on FB or in here. Yet I still waited to make it official. I don't know why. Maybe I knew that something was wrong in that way you know something is wrong deep down inside and until it all goes wrong you don't realize you were even thinking something might be wrong.
I was really excited. I wanted to shout it from the rooftops.
Or, you know, something more my style. Like tell it here.
But I was patient.
And then...
Something went wrong.
Horribly, terribly wrong.
And instead of telling you all that we were having our third baby, I'm telling you all that we lost the baby.
I guess I could've kept that a secret like I kept the pregnancy a secret, but I don't want to. Not anymore, anyways. And I can't seem to conjure up any good stories because I'm so focused on this one story. So here it is.
Well, not all of it because there are really a lot of details you don't want to know. Nor details I want to share.
But, the gist of the story went something like this: we (read: I) decided it was time for baby #3--quite possibly the last baby for our family. We got pregnant quickly and it was going amazingly well.
In fact, so well, that a few times I thought maybe something was wrong. But I didn't dwell on that. My stomach was popping out. I was tired all the time. I was moody beyond belief. The only thing I was missing was the copious amounts of throwing up that had accompanied the other two pregnancies, and I can't say that I was missing it at all.
I really thought that (a) God was blessing me for having the faith to have a third kid, even knowing how sick I get and how stressed out I get and how worried I was that the other two would try to eat it when I was in the shower (b) I was in such amazing shape that maybe I had beaten morning sickness with mind and body control.
More so (a) than (b). But I was grasping for some reason other than something was wrong.
I toyed around with the idea of waiting until after our first doctor appointment to make the annoucement, but I wasn't scheduled to go in until almost 13 weeks and it was wearing on me trying to keep it a secret from everyone and wearing shapeless clothes to hide it. So, when everyone around the Thanksgiving table stood up to tell what they were thankful for, I sorta just threw Baby #3 in the mix. Then, after dinner, we drove to Wade's parents house and told them. Then Wade texted his siblings. It's not nearly as exciting to announce #3 as it was #1, but everyone called and congratulated us.
And through it all I felt really good. I was 11 weeks afterall. There was no inkling of anything being wrong. I was almost out of the first trimester. We had started thinking about names. Everything was going swimmingly well.
Until the next week.
I started experiencing signs of an impending miscarriage. But the internet reassured me that things were probably fine. I mean, I was 12 weeks. I was so close to being out of the first trimester. Out of the danger zone.
I wasn't even going to call the doctor's office, that's how unconcerned I was. They had happened to call me to remind me of my doctor appointment (that was for nearly a week later, weird?) and I happened to mention what was going on and before I knew it I was headed in to get some blood work done. I even tried to talk the nurse out of it all--we have a huge deductible and it was December and we have only used about $700 of it for the year. I didn't want to rack up more money if we were just going to turn around and reach our deductible again the next year when we gave birth.
But eventually, I complied. She called the next morning and told me that my HCG (pregnancy hormone) levels were normal for a 12 week pregnancy but that she was concerned enough to set up an ultrasound.
And honestly, all I saw was this: $$$. But, I shoved it aside and went in anyways.
I can't say that I was all that shocked that they found a fetus that hadn't developed past six weeks. There was no heartbeat. There was definitely no live baby that was 12 weeks along. I was more shocked that I had been carrying around an undeveloping fetus for six weeks. I got the bad news over the phone in the ultrasound area of the hospital from the nurse. She was really compassionate. There are no complaints there. I was a total wreck though and I felt bad for the poor ultrasound tech who had to walk me to the exit. Luckily, Wade was there with me.
The rest of the evening is kind of a blur. I had to make a lot of phone calls unannouncing our pregnancy and then it was a matter of waiting and seeing what would happen over the weekend.
By Monday, I thought the worst of it was behind me. I was feeling really good and I had called the on-call doctor only once the entire weekend. I was quite proud of myself. As it turns out, as much information as there is out there on the internet, there isn't everything and apparently, no one really wants to talk about miscarriages. Besides that, I was the only one I knew who was trying to "go natural" this late in a pregnancy. Everyone else I know who has miscarriaged has done it early (either 5 or 6 weeks) or had a procedure done. I wasn't keen on having the procedure done if not absolutely necessary and so I felt, basically, alone. But the on-call doc reassured me that everything was "normal" and I believed her.
But, like I said, I was feeling really good. However, that all changed on Tuesday. I called the doctor's office. Even the doctor herself called me back. She said everything was normal. By Wednesday, I was doing even worse. They called in some medication that was suppose to help with everything. I kept thinking "how come no one ever talks about THIS part?"
By Thursday, I was sure something was wrong. Of course, it's really hard to convey that over the telephone without sounding like some crazy lunatic and I kept being told that everything was normal. I couldn't find this definition of normal anywhere and finally Thursday evening, I made the decision to go in to the ER.
There will be people that will tell you that if I would have waited longer, everything would have been okay. And there are people that will tell you that if I hadn't gone in when I did, we'd all be singing a different tune right now. I don't know who to believe, really. I'm the only one who knew really what was happening. I was trying to shield Wade and the kids from the horror of it all and so in the end, I went with my gut feeling. I don't regret it even if the whole time all I could see was this: $$$
To make a very gory and traumatic story short, the ER docs did everything short of surgery and after six hours even suggested surgery anyways. I opted to go home instead and hope that they were able to get everything fixed. It was the most horrific, terrifying, and humiliating experience of my life. In all my reading of miscarriage stories and the tales I've heard from friends, no one has relayed this type of experience.
I'm happy to report that I'm feeling a lot better now. I lost a lot of blood and have to take iron supplements for the next month. I tire really easily and I can't do a whole lot yet, which just serves to make me antsy and easily irritable. We're still coming to terms with the emotional aspect of the whole ordeal. I do know that it will take some time to heal from this, both physically and mentally.
Wow. That story was much longer than I thought it would be and I left half of it out. Hopefully, my next entry will be a little more lighthearted. But I do feel immensely better having gotten it out.
But I was really good. I only told a few people I knew wouldn't tell everyone. Then on Thanksgiving we told our families.
My family was somewhat shocked. Wade's family was not as shocked. But everyone was excited.
I told the people I wanted to know personally and not from a post on FB or in here. Yet I still waited to make it official. I don't know why. Maybe I knew that something was wrong in that way you know something is wrong deep down inside and until it all goes wrong you don't realize you were even thinking something might be wrong.
I was really excited. I wanted to shout it from the rooftops.
Or, you know, something more my style. Like tell it here.
But I was patient.
And then...
Something went wrong.
Horribly, terribly wrong.
And instead of telling you all that we were having our third baby, I'm telling you all that we lost the baby.
I guess I could've kept that a secret like I kept the pregnancy a secret, but I don't want to. Not anymore, anyways. And I can't seem to conjure up any good stories because I'm so focused on this one story. So here it is.
Well, not all of it because there are really a lot of details you don't want to know. Nor details I want to share.
But, the gist of the story went something like this: we (read: I) decided it was time for baby #3--quite possibly the last baby for our family. We got pregnant quickly and it was going amazingly well.
In fact, so well, that a few times I thought maybe something was wrong. But I didn't dwell on that. My stomach was popping out. I was tired all the time. I was moody beyond belief. The only thing I was missing was the copious amounts of throwing up that had accompanied the other two pregnancies, and I can't say that I was missing it at all.
I really thought that (a) God was blessing me for having the faith to have a third kid, even knowing how sick I get and how stressed out I get and how worried I was that the other two would try to eat it when I was in the shower (b) I was in such amazing shape that maybe I had beaten morning sickness with mind and body control.
More so (a) than (b). But I was grasping for some reason other than something was wrong.
I toyed around with the idea of waiting until after our first doctor appointment to make the annoucement, but I wasn't scheduled to go in until almost 13 weeks and it was wearing on me trying to keep it a secret from everyone and wearing shapeless clothes to hide it. So, when everyone around the Thanksgiving table stood up to tell what they were thankful for, I sorta just threw Baby #3 in the mix. Then, after dinner, we drove to Wade's parents house and told them. Then Wade texted his siblings. It's not nearly as exciting to announce #3 as it was #1, but everyone called and congratulated us.
And through it all I felt really good. I was 11 weeks afterall. There was no inkling of anything being wrong. I was almost out of the first trimester. We had started thinking about names. Everything was going swimmingly well.
Until the next week.
I started experiencing signs of an impending miscarriage. But the internet reassured me that things were probably fine. I mean, I was 12 weeks. I was so close to being out of the first trimester. Out of the danger zone.
I wasn't even going to call the doctor's office, that's how unconcerned I was. They had happened to call me to remind me of my doctor appointment (that was for nearly a week later, weird?) and I happened to mention what was going on and before I knew it I was headed in to get some blood work done. I even tried to talk the nurse out of it all--we have a huge deductible and it was December and we have only used about $700 of it for the year. I didn't want to rack up more money if we were just going to turn around and reach our deductible again the next year when we gave birth.
But eventually, I complied. She called the next morning and told me that my HCG (pregnancy hormone) levels were normal for a 12 week pregnancy but that she was concerned enough to set up an ultrasound.
And honestly, all I saw was this: $$$. But, I shoved it aside and went in anyways.
I can't say that I was all that shocked that they found a fetus that hadn't developed past six weeks. There was no heartbeat. There was definitely no live baby that was 12 weeks along. I was more shocked that I had been carrying around an undeveloping fetus for six weeks. I got the bad news over the phone in the ultrasound area of the hospital from the nurse. She was really compassionate. There are no complaints there. I was a total wreck though and I felt bad for the poor ultrasound tech who had to walk me to the exit. Luckily, Wade was there with me.
The rest of the evening is kind of a blur. I had to make a lot of phone calls unannouncing our pregnancy and then it was a matter of waiting and seeing what would happen over the weekend.
By Monday, I thought the worst of it was behind me. I was feeling really good and I had called the on-call doctor only once the entire weekend. I was quite proud of myself. As it turns out, as much information as there is out there on the internet, there isn't everything and apparently, no one really wants to talk about miscarriages. Besides that, I was the only one I knew who was trying to "go natural" this late in a pregnancy. Everyone else I know who has miscarriaged has done it early (either 5 or 6 weeks) or had a procedure done. I wasn't keen on having the procedure done if not absolutely necessary and so I felt, basically, alone. But the on-call doc reassured me that everything was "normal" and I believed her.
But, like I said, I was feeling really good. However, that all changed on Tuesday. I called the doctor's office. Even the doctor herself called me back. She said everything was normal. By Wednesday, I was doing even worse. They called in some medication that was suppose to help with everything. I kept thinking "how come no one ever talks about THIS part?"
By Thursday, I was sure something was wrong. Of course, it's really hard to convey that over the telephone without sounding like some crazy lunatic and I kept being told that everything was normal. I couldn't find this definition of normal anywhere and finally Thursday evening, I made the decision to go in to the ER.
There will be people that will tell you that if I would have waited longer, everything would have been okay. And there are people that will tell you that if I hadn't gone in when I did, we'd all be singing a different tune right now. I don't know who to believe, really. I'm the only one who knew really what was happening. I was trying to shield Wade and the kids from the horror of it all and so in the end, I went with my gut feeling. I don't regret it even if the whole time all I could see was this: $$$
To make a very gory and traumatic story short, the ER docs did everything short of surgery and after six hours even suggested surgery anyways. I opted to go home instead and hope that they were able to get everything fixed. It was the most horrific, terrifying, and humiliating experience of my life. In all my reading of miscarriage stories and the tales I've heard from friends, no one has relayed this type of experience.
I'm happy to report that I'm feeling a lot better now. I lost a lot of blood and have to take iron supplements for the next month. I tire really easily and I can't do a whole lot yet, which just serves to make me antsy and easily irritable. We're still coming to terms with the emotional aspect of the whole ordeal. I do know that it will take some time to heal from this, both physically and mentally.
Wow. That story was much longer than I thought it would be and I left half of it out. Hopefully, my next entry will be a little more lighthearted. But I do feel immensely better having gotten it out.
Monday, December 5, 2011
Bear With Me
Ugh. Bear with me. I am putting together some cool things for 2012. And there have been some developments and disappointments over here that I haven't been up to talking about quite yet. And I am currently engrossed in a therapeutic session with Oprah and her 6 dvd set of the first 20 years of her show. I need to finish that.
And then maybe I'll be back.
But, don't give up on me. Hopefully I can make my way to the pictures I have uncovered spanning the last six months of the year.
Sigh.
Okay. I'll return. I'll be better. And funnier. And more consistent. Bear with me.
And then maybe I'll be back.
But, don't give up on me. Hopefully I can make my way to the pictures I have uncovered spanning the last six months of the year.
Sigh.
Okay. I'll return. I'll be better. And funnier. And more consistent. Bear with me.
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Catch Up
I seem to do a lot of catching up on this blog. It's not really my intention. I really do have some good stories, but it seems like the days go by so fast and before long I have a bazillion of them all stored up. So, prepare yourself for another one of those kind of entries.
* We went camping in October down to Goblin Valley with all of Wade's family. I'll admit, I was a little nervous about this because we have NEVER done anything of this magnitude in the 11 years I've been in the family, but it turned out to be a lot of fun. I was even able to get out one morning before everyone was awake and run a good five miles. The weather was perfect and we really couldn't have asked for a better time.
* I mentioned a few posts ago about all the projects I was working on. I finally got a big project done--A.'s bed. I wanted it done in time for her 3rd birthday, she still sleeping in her crib and all. It's adorable and I'm happy with it. I'll have to post a picture of it when I do a photo drop from my phone. She looks so little in the bed, whereas in the crib she looked like monster child. The rest of the furniture will have to wait until the spring.
*I also finished the flower bed wall I had been building since September. That deserves it's own post, complete with pictures. I was freaking out about it, because I also needed to plant bulbs (SO many bulbs) and I was afraid I was going to run out of time, but Thursday, I finished planting the bulbs and I hope everything takes for Spring. It should look amazing out there.
* We've been starting some updating inside the house. It's hard to believe we've been here for nine years, but it's starting to show. I can't let anything out of the bag just yet, but it's going to look completely different in about a year. I'm just happy that Wade's starting to see my "vision".
* I have been saddled with the worst sinus infection for the last two weeks. I even went in to the doctors and everything. I normally try to stall visits to the doctor offices but I was so miserable, I couldn't take it another minute. Every day, A. and I would make our way downstairs and lay on the couch watching TV. I could hardly do anything else. Last night was the first night I slept completely unmedicated and I even made it on a five mile run this morning. It felt great to be outside for the first time in weeks for longer than 15 minutes. I'm confident in saying that I have beaten this thing, but it didn't go down without a fight. Sometimes it takes feeling really sick to truly appreciate when you're feeling good.
* I have really been enjoying watching my kids grow lately. I can't believe how big they're getting. J. is doing amazingly well at school. He got all 4's on his first report card (4's are the equivalent of A's) and he's reading so well now. He'll be done with the first grade reading program by Christmas and then they'll move him on to the second grade level. He's even gotten 100% on EVERY spelling test thus far. The teacher is impressed with him in math too. She sent me an email the other day describing his response to a question she had asked for their "writer's workshop": "If I could be anything, I would be..." J. answered that he'd be himself and that he would do all the same things he likes now. He then added a little caveat--he would be nice. The teacher wrote that she took him aside and said "J., don't you know that you're already nice?" and that he shyly nodded his head. She went on to say how precious she thought his answer was and that he was such a good student and she was blessed to have him in her class.
I didn't have the heart to tell her that I thought he just wants to play with his Legos without anyone bugging him and that he had told us the other day that he was going to be nice when he grows up and not ground his kids from their Legos when they're bad, like we meanies did.
But, after talking with him about the answer he gave his teacher, I did come away with the impression that he likes himself and that he truly just wants to be happy with whatever it is he does when he has to start working. He isn't really worried about that part of life yet. It kind of makes me feel like we're doing something right. And it's a pretty deep answer for a six year old.
A. is a hoot to be around. She has such a funny personality and does the silliest things. Her brain isn't wired the same as J.'s and that frustrates me sometimes. J. was so willing to entertain himself and A. isn't like that. I just have to keep reminding myself that they're different kids and they need different things. She's completely potty trained and hasn't had an accident in a while now. I think this is probably my most favorite age thus far. They're a little independent and they can start talking to you, but they aren't so independent that they don't want you any more. I can't believe A.'s going to be three soon. Where has the time gone?
* Thursday was our annual bowl off for the Turkey Bowl we hold every year for our bowling league. A turkey goes to the person who scores the highest overall for all three games and a turkey goes to each team member of the team that scores the highest for all three games. I had been so sick the week before that I couldn't bowl and I wasn't really expecting much coming into the Turkey Bowl because I was still a little stuffed up. I'm mediocre at best when it comes to bowling anyways. But somehow, I managed to bowl a 189 the first game, a 166 the second game and a 161 the third game--it's the best I've ever done. This won me a 15 lb turkey for being highest individual scorer. My team--the same team I've been on for the last two years and I wouldn't change it for anything. D. is 65 and S. is 59ish. They're a hoot and I have a blast every week--rallied together and we also took home the team turkeys as well. So, I came home with two 15 lb turkeys. Thanksgiving is at my family's house this year, but I'm sure I'll be cooking the turkey at some point to get some leftovers. Then there's always Christmas or New Years. Or even Easter. If I hear of someone needing a turkey, I have plenty to spare too. The opportunities are endless. I have pictures of my awesome scores. Those are on my phone as well so I'll post them sometime soon.
* I've been asked a few times over the last couple of months why I'm so good at everything. The reality is that I'm not. I just put myself out there and sometimes I'm spectacular. Most of the time though, I'm mediocre and I'm okay with that. These are things I enjoy doing for the sole benefit of doing them. My point is that sometimes, people are afraid of trying new things because they're afraid of what they'll look like or that they might be last. So. Who cares? Someone has to be last. Put yourself out there and try new things or you'll never know.
Oh man. So many things going on right now. I hope it's not another two weeks before we talk again. Seriously, stop being strangers. :)
* We went camping in October down to Goblin Valley with all of Wade's family. I'll admit, I was a little nervous about this because we have NEVER done anything of this magnitude in the 11 years I've been in the family, but it turned out to be a lot of fun. I was even able to get out one morning before everyone was awake and run a good five miles. The weather was perfect and we really couldn't have asked for a better time.
* I mentioned a few posts ago about all the projects I was working on. I finally got a big project done--A.'s bed. I wanted it done in time for her 3rd birthday, she still sleeping in her crib and all. It's adorable and I'm happy with it. I'll have to post a picture of it when I do a photo drop from my phone. She looks so little in the bed, whereas in the crib she looked like monster child. The rest of the furniture will have to wait until the spring.
*I also finished the flower bed wall I had been building since September. That deserves it's own post, complete with pictures. I was freaking out about it, because I also needed to plant bulbs (SO many bulbs) and I was afraid I was going to run out of time, but Thursday, I finished planting the bulbs and I hope everything takes for Spring. It should look amazing out there.
* We've been starting some updating inside the house. It's hard to believe we've been here for nine years, but it's starting to show. I can't let anything out of the bag just yet, but it's going to look completely different in about a year. I'm just happy that Wade's starting to see my "vision".
* I have been saddled with the worst sinus infection for the last two weeks. I even went in to the doctors and everything. I normally try to stall visits to the doctor offices but I was so miserable, I couldn't take it another minute. Every day, A. and I would make our way downstairs and lay on the couch watching TV. I could hardly do anything else. Last night was the first night I slept completely unmedicated and I even made it on a five mile run this morning. It felt great to be outside for the first time in weeks for longer than 15 minutes. I'm confident in saying that I have beaten this thing, but it didn't go down without a fight. Sometimes it takes feeling really sick to truly appreciate when you're feeling good.
* I have really been enjoying watching my kids grow lately. I can't believe how big they're getting. J. is doing amazingly well at school. He got all 4's on his first report card (4's are the equivalent of A's) and he's reading so well now. He'll be done with the first grade reading program by Christmas and then they'll move him on to the second grade level. He's even gotten 100% on EVERY spelling test thus far. The teacher is impressed with him in math too. She sent me an email the other day describing his response to a question she had asked for their "writer's workshop": "If I could be anything, I would be..." J. answered that he'd be himself and that he would do all the same things he likes now. He then added a little caveat--he would be nice. The teacher wrote that she took him aside and said "J., don't you know that you're already nice?" and that he shyly nodded his head. She went on to say how precious she thought his answer was and that he was such a good student and she was blessed to have him in her class.
I didn't have the heart to tell her that I thought he just wants to play with his Legos without anyone bugging him and that he had told us the other day that he was going to be nice when he grows up and not ground his kids from their Legos when they're bad, like we meanies did.
But, after talking with him about the answer he gave his teacher, I did come away with the impression that he likes himself and that he truly just wants to be happy with whatever it is he does when he has to start working. He isn't really worried about that part of life yet. It kind of makes me feel like we're doing something right. And it's a pretty deep answer for a six year old.
A. is a hoot to be around. She has such a funny personality and does the silliest things. Her brain isn't wired the same as J.'s and that frustrates me sometimes. J. was so willing to entertain himself and A. isn't like that. I just have to keep reminding myself that they're different kids and they need different things. She's completely potty trained and hasn't had an accident in a while now. I think this is probably my most favorite age thus far. They're a little independent and they can start talking to you, but they aren't so independent that they don't want you any more. I can't believe A.'s going to be three soon. Where has the time gone?
* Thursday was our annual bowl off for the Turkey Bowl we hold every year for our bowling league. A turkey goes to the person who scores the highest overall for all three games and a turkey goes to each team member of the team that scores the highest for all three games. I had been so sick the week before that I couldn't bowl and I wasn't really expecting much coming into the Turkey Bowl because I was still a little stuffed up. I'm mediocre at best when it comes to bowling anyways. But somehow, I managed to bowl a 189 the first game, a 166 the second game and a 161 the third game--it's the best I've ever done. This won me a 15 lb turkey for being highest individual scorer. My team--the same team I've been on for the last two years and I wouldn't change it for anything. D. is 65 and S. is 59ish. They're a hoot and I have a blast every week--rallied together and we also took home the team turkeys as well. So, I came home with two 15 lb turkeys. Thanksgiving is at my family's house this year, but I'm sure I'll be cooking the turkey at some point to get some leftovers. Then there's always Christmas or New Years. Or even Easter. If I hear of someone needing a turkey, I have plenty to spare too. The opportunities are endless. I have pictures of my awesome scores. Those are on my phone as well so I'll post them sometime soon.
* I've been asked a few times over the last couple of months why I'm so good at everything. The reality is that I'm not. I just put myself out there and sometimes I'm spectacular. Most of the time though, I'm mediocre and I'm okay with that. These are things I enjoy doing for the sole benefit of doing them. My point is that sometimes, people are afraid of trying new things because they're afraid of what they'll look like or that they might be last. So. Who cares? Someone has to be last. Put yourself out there and try new things or you'll never know.
Oh man. So many things going on right now. I hope it's not another two weeks before we talk again. Seriously, stop being strangers. :)
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Displaying My Awesome Talents...Again
Last year, for the ward talent show, my friend, H. and I did a synchronized biking piece. I talked about it here. This year we thought we'd change things up a bit and do a synchronized swimming piece a la this:
Only, you know, not as pulled together since it was sorta last minute. And there were only two of us. But, still, I think it turned out pretty good.
As a sidenote, I did give the camera to someone to take pictures, but the pictures didn't turn out very well. So, you sorta had to be there to really appreciate the awesomeness that is two grown adults pretending to do a synchronized swimming routine.
Next year? Who knows. Maybe another synchronized routine of random things. Perhaps if we start brainstorming about it now, we can come up with something really cool and recruit more people to our cause.
As for what's happening over here right now, let's just say that it's going to make a REALLY good story come a few weeks (hopefully) from now.
And the frustration and the remorse and the tantrum throwing has all died down a little.
Only, you know, not as pulled together since it was sorta last minute. And there were only two of us. But, still, I think it turned out pretty good.
As a sidenote, I did give the camera to someone to take pictures, but the pictures didn't turn out very well. So, you sorta had to be there to really appreciate the awesomeness that is two grown adults pretending to do a synchronized swimming routine.
Next year? Who knows. Maybe another synchronized routine of random things. Perhaps if we start brainstorming about it now, we can come up with something really cool and recruit more people to our cause.
As for what's happening over here right now, let's just say that it's going to make a REALLY good story come a few weeks (hopefully) from now.
And the frustration and the remorse and the tantrum throwing has all died down a little.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Um...
Wow. It's been two weeks already? So, a lot happened between when I came in second at the speech contest and today. I'll spend this week getting caught up so that I can then tell you all about the cool stuff that is currently happening. I'm going to start from the newest.
Because it's my blog, that's why.
The Provo Halloween Half Marathon
Remember how I vowed that this was going to be my last long race for a very long time?
Well, I lied.
It wasn't intentional. It wasn't like I said "I'm going to tell everyone that I'm not doing any more long races and then secretly go out and do them." No, it really was going to be my last long race.
And then, my good buddy, M. signed up for the Provo Halloween Half Marathon. Initially, I had no desire to do the race and I just laughed at her for having to get up early on Saturday mornings and do long runs.
But then, one Saturday, I said "hey, I'll come run with you." We picked a nearby canyon that would mimic the (supposed--key point) route and parked our cars at the beginning and end points. And I had such a marvelous time that I agreed to do it again the next week.
But...(and there's always a but), Wade was gone with the scouts (I know. SHOCKER) and my babysitter got sick and so instead, I agreed to pick M. up at the end of the run and drive her back to her car so that she could still run the canyon and prepare herself for the race. (Because I'm a good friend. That's why.)
The following weekend I met up with her again, and we ran the same course. Again, it was marvelous and so at about 4 or 5 miles into the run, I threw out the idea that maybe, I would sign up for the race too. I mean, I have already put in two long runs of 9 and 10 miles apiece. 13 miles? Not a problem.
I was gone the next Saturday for the last run before the race. Meanwhile, during the week, I was averaging a decent run on Monday mornings and then the rest of the week, I swam and biked.
Mildly put, I was very under-prepared for this race. My only advantage was that at least I knew what 13 miles felt like and I knew that, even in the worst conditions, I could walk it and still finish.
Friday, the reality of the situation hit hard. I started freaking out that I would crash at mile 9 like I always do and then spend four miles berating myself for signing up for a half marathon with no training. Also, I was slated to show off my awesome talents again at the Ward Talent Show (tomorrow's post). There was some stress involved with getting ready for that--talents require time to master.
M. went off to pick up our packets and apparently, it was freakishly unbelievable. Mind you, this was not the cheapest race I had ever done either. There is a level of expectation depending on how much money you spend. But the lines were up to two hours long and the number bibs were messed up and all in all, not a good experience for anyone. Then M's husband dropped her off at her parents house for the night and drove home. The plan was for me to drive down after displaying my talent and meeting her in Orem for the night.
About halfway from home, I realized that I had forgotten my coat. It was going to be chilly in the morning, and I toyed with the idea of just sucking it up, but I hate being cold. So I ran into a Walmart and bought a new coat. I was two minutes from M. when she called me.
"You're not going to believe this."
"What?"
"I left my running shoes in the car and my husband has all the kids asleep. There's no way he's going to drive them back to me."
M. does bank work from home that has a deadline that has to be met every night. Other than that stipulation, it's pretty laid back work. However, the packet pick up process took so long, that M. was stressed about not reaching the deadline and in her panic didn't double check that she had everything.
If it had been a 5k we were doing, we would have just gone to Walmart to buy a new pair of shoes. But being that this was 13 miles, we had no choice but to drive home and pick them up. Luckily, M's parents were out of town and had left their luxury car at our disposal.
Two and a half hours later, we returned back to M's parents house and fell asleep just in time to be awoken four hours later.
For the life of me, I couldn't figure out why a race that had a 9 am start time required everyone to be at the bus loading station (the mall) by 6 am. And then, we figured it out. We lined up at 5:45 and got on a bus at 6:50. We weren't even that close to the end of the line. The end of the line went A QUARTER OF A MILE around the mall.
Up at the start, they had a "heating" tent, which was basically a fire code disaster waiting to happen. We were all herded into these tents and then sat waiting.
And waiting.
The "start line party" we were guaranteed consisted of music softly playing in the background and sitting on cold grass, huddled around trying to heat a tent.
Finally, the first wave of runners headed out and we took our spot for the second wave. The costumes that people wore were hilarious. Of all the races I wish I would have had my camera, this one was it. The race course was gorgeous. We ran from Aspen Grove, by Sundance, and then down Provo Canyon. Once the race was underway, there weren't any problems on our end, though I hear pretty much every aspect of the race had terrible organization. We finished at The Riverwoods in Provo. The finish line was crowded, but we managed to get through and find our return ride to the car parked at the mall.
M. and I ran every step of the way, except for the water stops. It's been my experience that the time you gain in running through the water stops never outweighs the disadvantages you have in trying to drink and run at the same time. There was also a stretch of nearly .10 miles at about mile 12 that we walked because I had a side ache that wouldn't go away. But other than those incidences, we ran it all. It had been billed as a downhill run, and the first four miles were definitely a steep descent. But then, it sort of turned into rolling up and down hills and that made it pretty hard, considering the training runs I did do were all downhill in nature.
I'm happy with this effort. I think I could have gone a little faster, but I probably would have overestimated my ability and burnt out at mile 9 like always and ended up coming in slower. I finished this one a full 15 minutes faster than the Moonlight Half, and I'm happy about that.
So I'll say it now, and maybe it will stick. Or maybe it won't. But I'm fairly confident in saying that THIS is my last long race for a long time.
Because it's my blog, that's why.
The Provo Halloween Half Marathon
Remember how I vowed that this was going to be my last long race for a very long time?
Well, I lied.
It wasn't intentional. It wasn't like I said "I'm going to tell everyone that I'm not doing any more long races and then secretly go out and do them." No, it really was going to be my last long race.
And then, my good buddy, M. signed up for the Provo Halloween Half Marathon. Initially, I had no desire to do the race and I just laughed at her for having to get up early on Saturday mornings and do long runs.
But then, one Saturday, I said "hey, I'll come run with you." We picked a nearby canyon that would mimic the (supposed--key point) route and parked our cars at the beginning and end points. And I had such a marvelous time that I agreed to do it again the next week.
But...(and there's always a but), Wade was gone with the scouts (I know. SHOCKER) and my babysitter got sick and so instead, I agreed to pick M. up at the end of the run and drive her back to her car so that she could still run the canyon and prepare herself for the race. (Because I'm a good friend. That's why.)
The following weekend I met up with her again, and we ran the same course. Again, it was marvelous and so at about 4 or 5 miles into the run, I threw out the idea that maybe, I would sign up for the race too. I mean, I have already put in two long runs of 9 and 10 miles apiece. 13 miles? Not a problem.
I was gone the next Saturday for the last run before the race. Meanwhile, during the week, I was averaging a decent run on Monday mornings and then the rest of the week, I swam and biked.
Mildly put, I was very under-prepared for this race. My only advantage was that at least I knew what 13 miles felt like and I knew that, even in the worst conditions, I could walk it and still finish.
Friday, the reality of the situation hit hard. I started freaking out that I would crash at mile 9 like I always do and then spend four miles berating myself for signing up for a half marathon with no training. Also, I was slated to show off my awesome talents again at the Ward Talent Show (tomorrow's post). There was some stress involved with getting ready for that--talents require time to master.
M. went off to pick up our packets and apparently, it was freakishly unbelievable. Mind you, this was not the cheapest race I had ever done either. There is a level of expectation depending on how much money you spend. But the lines were up to two hours long and the number bibs were messed up and all in all, not a good experience for anyone. Then M's husband dropped her off at her parents house for the night and drove home. The plan was for me to drive down after displaying my talent and meeting her in Orem for the night.
About halfway from home, I realized that I had forgotten my coat. It was going to be chilly in the morning, and I toyed with the idea of just sucking it up, but I hate being cold. So I ran into a Walmart and bought a new coat. I was two minutes from M. when she called me.
"You're not going to believe this."
"What?"
"I left my running shoes in the car and my husband has all the kids asleep. There's no way he's going to drive them back to me."
M. does bank work from home that has a deadline that has to be met every night. Other than that stipulation, it's pretty laid back work. However, the packet pick up process took so long, that M. was stressed about not reaching the deadline and in her panic didn't double check that she had everything.
If it had been a 5k we were doing, we would have just gone to Walmart to buy a new pair of shoes. But being that this was 13 miles, we had no choice but to drive home and pick them up. Luckily, M's parents were out of town and had left their luxury car at our disposal.
Two and a half hours later, we returned back to M's parents house and fell asleep just in time to be awoken four hours later.
For the life of me, I couldn't figure out why a race that had a 9 am start time required everyone to be at the bus loading station (the mall) by 6 am. And then, we figured it out. We lined up at 5:45 and got on a bus at 6:50. We weren't even that close to the end of the line. The end of the line went A QUARTER OF A MILE around the mall.
Up at the start, they had a "heating" tent, which was basically a fire code disaster waiting to happen. We were all herded into these tents and then sat waiting.
And waiting.
The "start line party" we were guaranteed consisted of music softly playing in the background and sitting on cold grass, huddled around trying to heat a tent.
Finally, the first wave of runners headed out and we took our spot for the second wave. The costumes that people wore were hilarious. Of all the races I wish I would have had my camera, this one was it. The race course was gorgeous. We ran from Aspen Grove, by Sundance, and then down Provo Canyon. Once the race was underway, there weren't any problems on our end, though I hear pretty much every aspect of the race had terrible organization. We finished at The Riverwoods in Provo. The finish line was crowded, but we managed to get through and find our return ride to the car parked at the mall.
M. and I ran every step of the way, except for the water stops. It's been my experience that the time you gain in running through the water stops never outweighs the disadvantages you have in trying to drink and run at the same time. There was also a stretch of nearly .10 miles at about mile 12 that we walked because I had a side ache that wouldn't go away. But other than those incidences, we ran it all. It had been billed as a downhill run, and the first four miles were definitely a steep descent. But then, it sort of turned into rolling up and down hills and that made it pretty hard, considering the training runs I did do were all downhill in nature.
I'm happy with this effort. I think I could have gone a little faster, but I probably would have overestimated my ability and burnt out at mile 9 like always and ended up coming in slower. I finished this one a full 15 minutes faster than the Moonlight Half, and I'm happy about that.
So I'll say it now, and maybe it will stick. Or maybe it won't. But I'm fairly confident in saying that THIS is my last long race for a long time.
Monday, October 17, 2011
2nd Place is the New 1st
I had my next round of speech contests this past weekend. I had to go up against three other seasoned speakers.
And I came in second.
Which I'm very proud of. All the Tall Tales were extraordinary and I'm happy I got another trophy to add to my collection.
The lady that won was incredible. There was no way that I could have beat her with what I had.
But the best part of the whole thing was when my brother walked in. He had wanted to come, but they were headed camping. Then Wade got called into work all day Saturday, and some friends who were going to be coming couldn't because of some other obligations and I thought I'd just be talking to a room full of strangers.
Which I was okay with. I hadn't really even expected anyone to come. I didn't send out invitations. I didn't make a big deal of it. I'm pretty sure my other brother didn't even know about it. It was just a 3 minute speech. I figured if I made it to the final round, then I'd rally the troops.
About five minutes before it started, my brother came running in. He had left the campsite and drove for who knows how long to listen to me speak for 3 minutes. Ahhh....isn't that sweet?
So I took him for lunch and talked his ear off about all this other stuff. And it was great, just the two of us.
Sidenote: If you would have told me 20 years ago that I would be enjoying one-on-one time with my older brother when I was an adult I would have laughed in your face and then slugged you for suggesting such a thing.
All in all, it was a great time with some great speeches.
And I came in second.
Which I'm very proud of. All the Tall Tales were extraordinary and I'm happy I got another trophy to add to my collection.
The lady that won was incredible. There was no way that I could have beat her with what I had.
But the best part of the whole thing was when my brother walked in. He had wanted to come, but they were headed camping. Then Wade got called into work all day Saturday, and some friends who were going to be coming couldn't because of some other obligations and I thought I'd just be talking to a room full of strangers.
Which I was okay with. I hadn't really even expected anyone to come. I didn't send out invitations. I didn't make a big deal of it. I'm pretty sure my other brother didn't even know about it. It was just a 3 minute speech. I figured if I made it to the final round, then I'd rally the troops.
About five minutes before it started, my brother came running in. He had left the campsite and drove for who knows how long to listen to me speak for 3 minutes. Ahhh....isn't that sweet?
So I took him for lunch and talked his ear off about all this other stuff. And it was great, just the two of us.
Sidenote: If you would have told me 20 years ago that I would be enjoying one-on-one time with my older brother when I was an adult I would have laughed in your face and then slugged you for suggesting such a thing.
All in all, it was a great time with some great speeches.
Monday, October 10, 2011
Some Simple Truths
*Walmart might be cheaper, but the new grocery store that is less than a half mile from my house is cleaner, nicer, and has better produce. I am, thereby, refusing to step foot in Walmart any longer. Unless, it's an emergency on a Sunday, because the new grocery store isn't open on Sundays. But, I can count on one hand the number of times I've had to go to Walmart on a Sunday, so I'm not going to stress about it. Goodbye crazy Walmart people!
*In case this isn't clear, I am LOVING not having to drive 8 miles for a loaf of bread/gallon of milk/can of whatever.
*Martha Stewart has invaded my body. There are a bazillion projects I want to do and each one breeds three or four of their own baby projects. Eek.
*I had the epiphany that I am just as capable of looking up how to do things as anyone else is. Behold the beauty of the internet. Thus, these projects will become a reality in time.
*Along with the aforementioned epiphany, I also came to realize that no one is going to do these projects for me, no matter how cute I am. Or how much I beg.
*God granted me new visiting teachers in anticipation of this epiphany. Crafty, smart women who will help me do these projects and fill in the various holes my inability to do anything crafty is bound to make.
*Wade is probably pretty scared right now. Which is okay. He should be. Though he shouldn't be too stressed. I'm only making the house, you know, pretty so one day, when our dream house comes along, we aren't left sitting and wishing we would have taken care of all that beforehand.
*Speaking of Wade, he is spending his day doing a service project. I'm not entirely sure what they are doing, but when asked what he would be willing to do, he checked all boxes except for painting. He claimed it was because he didn't want to get paint on his brand new (free) t-shirt he gets for volunteering. I pressed him some more and turns out that he says painting has so many degrees of rightness--meaning you neither did it completely wrong or completely right and you can always mess it up somewhere--that it stresses him out. Hence why our walls upstairs are completely white (original paint even) except for A.'s room and the master bathroom.
*I know! I offered to paint it for him in which he gave me his trained evil eye and made me promise not too.
*On to A's room. This last weekend, I took apart her crib--yes, she's a month away from 3 years old, is completely potty trained, both day and night, and has been climbing out of the crib since she was 18 months. Why do you ask?--cleaned out her room and put up a new bed for her. All by myself since Wade was out with the scouts. I am so close to finishing her headboard and foot board for her new bed. I think it's adorable. When it's done and up, I'll take pictures and post them.
*It's a good thing that it rained for four days straight, because the yard project had brought me to tears more than once. Now that I've had a few days of a forced break from it, I'm ready to tackle it again. The weather looks gorgeous for the most part this week, so I'm hoping to have it done by the end of this weekend.
*Ha! Just looking at that statement filled me with optimistic dread. There's no way it's going to be done by this weekend. I can hope though.
*Wade's scout trip involved a pair of ill-placed keys, two 15 year old boys, a child-locked door, the wind, and a two hour trip to cell phone range. It's a relief to know that 9 people will fit in the Pilot in an emergency.
*There are at least 112 episodes of The Magic School Bus. How do I know this? Because they are all currently on the DVR we set up for the kids. I know! 112 episodes. That's just crazy.
*In case this isn't clear, I am LOVING not having to drive 8 miles for a loaf of bread/gallon of milk/can of whatever.
*Martha Stewart has invaded my body. There are a bazillion projects I want to do and each one breeds three or four of their own baby projects. Eek.
*I had the epiphany that I am just as capable of looking up how to do things as anyone else is. Behold the beauty of the internet. Thus, these projects will become a reality in time.
*Along with the aforementioned epiphany, I also came to realize that no one is going to do these projects for me, no matter how cute I am. Or how much I beg.
*God granted me new visiting teachers in anticipation of this epiphany. Crafty, smart women who will help me do these projects and fill in the various holes my inability to do anything crafty is bound to make.
*Wade is probably pretty scared right now. Which is okay. He should be. Though he shouldn't be too stressed. I'm only making the house, you know, pretty so one day, when our dream house comes along, we aren't left sitting and wishing we would have taken care of all that beforehand.
*Speaking of Wade, he is spending his day doing a service project. I'm not entirely sure what they are doing, but when asked what he would be willing to do, he checked all boxes except for painting. He claimed it was because he didn't want to get paint on his brand new (free) t-shirt he gets for volunteering. I pressed him some more and turns out that he says painting has so many degrees of rightness--meaning you neither did it completely wrong or completely right and you can always mess it up somewhere--that it stresses him out. Hence why our walls upstairs are completely white (original paint even) except for A.'s room and the master bathroom.
*I know! I offered to paint it for him in which he gave me his trained evil eye and made me promise not too.
*On to A's room. This last weekend, I took apart her crib--yes, she's a month away from 3 years old, is completely potty trained, both day and night, and has been climbing out of the crib since she was 18 months. Why do you ask?--cleaned out her room and put up a new bed for her. All by myself since Wade was out with the scouts. I am so close to finishing her headboard and foot board for her new bed. I think it's adorable. When it's done and up, I'll take pictures and post them.
*It's a good thing that it rained for four days straight, because the yard project had brought me to tears more than once. Now that I've had a few days of a forced break from it, I'm ready to tackle it again. The weather looks gorgeous for the most part this week, so I'm hoping to have it done by the end of this weekend.
*Ha! Just looking at that statement filled me with optimistic dread. There's no way it's going to be done by this weekend. I can hope though.
*Wade's scout trip involved a pair of ill-placed keys, two 15 year old boys, a child-locked door, the wind, and a two hour trip to cell phone range. It's a relief to know that 9 people will fit in the Pilot in an emergency.
*There are at least 112 episodes of The Magic School Bus. How do I know this? Because they are all currently on the DVR we set up for the kids. I know! 112 episodes. That's just crazy.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Untapped Potential
The other day I had to drop something off to my dad at his work. It's been years since I have been to my dad's workplace. I have only actually been inside the building once...ever. And it would be no different last week. The plan was to meet my father in the parking lot.
As I pulled in, I stopped at the guard shack. The security guy asked me where I was headed and I (dumbly) said that I was headed to see my dad.
Him: Blank stare.
Me: Blank stare returned.
"What building is he in?" The all-knowing security guard asked.
Me: Blank stare.
I looked at the building in sight and pointed there. "Um...there?"
Sidenote: my father has been working at the EXACT same place, in the EXACT same desk, for 30+ years, but I have no idea if I was pointing at the right building or not.
"What does your father do?" The Interrogator asked.
Me: Blank stare.
"Uh...he's an electrical engineer."
Another sidenote: It's moments like this where I want to qualify my answers with "oh, and I have a math degree" so people won't be left with the impression that I really am THAT dumb.
Him: Blank stare returned.
"I'm just meeting him in the parking lot. He drives a bright yellow car. I can find it."
Him: Unpleasant blank stare returned.
"I guess I'll just call him."
Luckily, I connected with my father and found where his bright yellow car was and I was deemed not a threat to national security so yay for me.
But, as I was waiting for my dad to make his way down to the parking lot from his mysterious office in his mysterious building I was watching all these people riding bikes through the parking lot as though they were taking a leisurely pedal on a boardwalk by the ocean.
Except for they were wearing business clothes. And they were all middle-aged. And, my dad's workplace is located in what is not the most desirous looking place in the valley. And the bikes were throwbacks to the old-school beach cruisers, with their deep v-shaped handlebars, big tires, banana seats, and whitewall sides.
So, a little strange.
When my dad arrived, I asked him about the strange bikers.
"What bikers?"
"Um...those ones." I said, pointing out the two guys in lab coats pedaling by.
"Oh those. That's the transportation system in between buildings. They're actually getting ready to bring them in for the winter."
It was at that moment, that I realized that I MUST work there. The idea of getting up from my desk and taking a bike for a spin is just too luring not to work there. What would I do? Whatever they need me to do. Administrative Assistant, File Clerk, Security Guard.
Okay, maybe not the last one. Clearly, I demonstrated no ability in that capacity.
As I was driving away, I saw a lady riding a bike AND eating an ice cream cone.
That sealed the deal right there. That's where I need to be! I just hope that by the time I make the move back into the workplace, the security guard will be replaced by another 20 year old and no one will remember me from this particular episode.
As I pulled in, I stopped at the guard shack. The security guy asked me where I was headed and I (dumbly) said that I was headed to see my dad.
Him: Blank stare.
Me: Blank stare returned.
"What building is he in?" The all-knowing security guard asked.
Me: Blank stare.
I looked at the building in sight and pointed there. "Um...there?"
Sidenote: my father has been working at the EXACT same place, in the EXACT same desk, for 30+ years, but I have no idea if I was pointing at the right building or not.
"What does your father do?" The Interrogator asked.
Me: Blank stare.
"Uh...he's an electrical engineer."
Another sidenote: It's moments like this where I want to qualify my answers with "oh, and I have a math degree" so people won't be left with the impression that I really am THAT dumb.
Him: Blank stare returned.
"I'm just meeting him in the parking lot. He drives a bright yellow car. I can find it."
Him: Unpleasant blank stare returned.
"I guess I'll just call him."
Luckily, I connected with my father and found where his bright yellow car was and I was deemed not a threat to national security so yay for me.
But, as I was waiting for my dad to make his way down to the parking lot from his mysterious office in his mysterious building I was watching all these people riding bikes through the parking lot as though they were taking a leisurely pedal on a boardwalk by the ocean.
Except for they were wearing business clothes. And they were all middle-aged. And, my dad's workplace is located in what is not the most desirous looking place in the valley. And the bikes were throwbacks to the old-school beach cruisers, with their deep v-shaped handlebars, big tires, banana seats, and whitewall sides.
So, a little strange.
When my dad arrived, I asked him about the strange bikers.
"What bikers?"
"Um...those ones." I said, pointing out the two guys in lab coats pedaling by.
"Oh those. That's the transportation system in between buildings. They're actually getting ready to bring them in for the winter."
It was at that moment, that I realized that I MUST work there. The idea of getting up from my desk and taking a bike for a spin is just too luring not to work there. What would I do? Whatever they need me to do. Administrative Assistant, File Clerk, Security Guard.
Okay, maybe not the last one. Clearly, I demonstrated no ability in that capacity.
As I was driving away, I saw a lady riding a bike AND eating an ice cream cone.
That sealed the deal right there. That's where I need to be! I just hope that by the time I make the move back into the workplace, the security guard will be replaced by another 20 year old and no one will remember me from this particular episode.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Tall Tales Winner
Remember how when you were little and you played soccer and everyone got a trophy for participating? Well, newsflash. That's not what really happens in Adult World. In Adult World you don't get a trophy because you woke up and went to work. You don't get a trophy because you cleaned the house. No, you only get a trophy when you do something very cool.
Like win a speech contest.
Shut up. It is to cool.
So there I am with my first speaking trophy. I won it on Saturday at our Toastmaster's Area Contest. The guy next to me is Doug. We're both from the same club and he won a trophy as well. He won for Humorous Speech and I won for Tall Tales. The difference being that his speech has to be two minutes longer and roughly true. Mine can be entirely made up.
Which it almost was.
And I look as though I just crawled out of bed. Which I sorta did. It was part of the speech. But, what you don't see are the spandex shorts under the yoga pants in which I delivered my speech. I also wore a pair of goggles and a swim cap.
Note: it's very hard to give a speech with a pair of goggles on because contrary to what you think would be the purpose of goggles, unless you're in water, they are quite difficult to see out of. Eye contact is hard to make when you can only make out rough outlines of people. So you spend a lot of time swiveling your head back and forth slowly to give the illusion that you're not standing in front of a group of strangers in a conference room at the library mimicking swimming in your spandex shorts, but rather talking to them normally. Which is a littler harder than, say, practicing in front of the mirror. Or an empty closet. These are good things to remember.
So my Tall Tale was about a lake monster in Stansbury Lake that I came upon during my last triathlon. It's kind of dumb, but it's taken me this far. My next speech is on October 15 and that is the Division Contest. I will be competing against 4 other Areas.
I have the trophy sitting on the bookcase, right next to my "most improved average" and "first place team" bowling trophies I got last year. Which I think brings my total trophy count in Adult World close to what I graduated from Kid World with.
Sunday, September 18, 2011
The End of My Wit
It's no secret that we've been dealing with food issues with J. for some time. Like 3 years and some change, to be exact. And I'm done.
I know. I know. I've said this a hundred times before. But the idea that we're going on 4 YEARS of the same issues and it doesn't look like it's getting any better is driving me to the edge.
Let me paint our typical dinner for you.
Mom spends time making dinner. Some days it's an hour or less. But other days, it's more. Whatever the case, it's still time. And since Mom only gets paid in kisses and hugs, not money, her time is more valuable then say, if she was getting paid $30 an hour to make a meal. If Mom was getting paid $30 an hour to make a meal, then all meals would be gourmet eight hour ordeals and she wouldn't care if anyone ate it or not, because she would pocket the $240 and eat cereal later.
Sorry...I digress.
So, mom spends time making dinner. And then she calls everyone to the table where she sets out plates full of hot food.
Sidenote: Do you know how many people on this planet would kill for ONE plate of hot food. Just one???
Immediately, J. will shove his plate aside and claim to not like the food, though he doesn't know what it is nor what it tastes like. After some cajoling he will LICK a utensil that has touched the plate and declare his undying hatred for the food.
Meanwhile, A. will mimic her older brother's antics and shove her plate away. J. will be sent to his room for being rude at the dinner table, which will begin the nightly rounds of "You're so rude" and "You're stupid". Wade will get up to return J. to his room and A. will follow.
Five minutes after I've summoned everyone to the table to sit down for our one meal in which we all eat together, I am left alone at the table to eat by myself.
I'm not complaining about eating by myself, I'm merely noting that if I wanted to eat by myself, I'd just pour myself a bowl of cereal and save myself the time of cooking a real dinner. Just sayin'...
Arg! Frustration is brewing over. My goal this winter is to finally kick this to the curb!
I know. I know. I've said this a hundred times before. But the idea that we're going on 4 YEARS of the same issues and it doesn't look like it's getting any better is driving me to the edge.
Let me paint our typical dinner for you.
Mom spends time making dinner. Some days it's an hour or less. But other days, it's more. Whatever the case, it's still time. And since Mom only gets paid in kisses and hugs, not money, her time is more valuable then say, if she was getting paid $30 an hour to make a meal. If Mom was getting paid $30 an hour to make a meal, then all meals would be gourmet eight hour ordeals and she wouldn't care if anyone ate it or not, because she would pocket the $240 and eat cereal later.
Sorry...I digress.
So, mom spends time making dinner. And then she calls everyone to the table where she sets out plates full of hot food.
Sidenote: Do you know how many people on this planet would kill for ONE plate of hot food. Just one???
Immediately, J. will shove his plate aside and claim to not like the food, though he doesn't know what it is nor what it tastes like. After some cajoling he will LICK a utensil that has touched the plate and declare his undying hatred for the food.
Meanwhile, A. will mimic her older brother's antics and shove her plate away. J. will be sent to his room for being rude at the dinner table, which will begin the nightly rounds of "You're so rude" and "You're stupid". Wade will get up to return J. to his room and A. will follow.
Five minutes after I've summoned everyone to the table to sit down for our one meal in which we all eat together, I am left alone at the table to eat by myself.
I'm not complaining about eating by myself, I'm merely noting that if I wanted to eat by myself, I'd just pour myself a bowl of cereal and save myself the time of cooking a real dinner. Just sayin'...
Arg! Frustration is brewing over. My goal this winter is to finally kick this to the curb!
Thursday, September 15, 2011
School Note Sent Home
I just got the following email from J.'s teacher:
J was the first student in our class to fill up his behavior chart because of good behavior! Way to go J!
How cool is that? I mean if she KNEW the hell we've been through with this kid and his stubborn ways and his 13-year-old-teenage-girl-in-a-6-year-old-boy's-body attitude, the teacher definitely would not have sent an email (today's equivalent of the dreaded note home) about his good behavior.
Yay for my little bug. He's growing up so fast and he's so much fun to be around now (as long as he's mostly getting his way) and he has the most interesting and intriguing questions and observations. It's the light at the end of the tunnel that everyone has been promising me for the last five and a half years.
J was the first student in our class to fill up his behavior chart because of good behavior! Way to go J!
How cool is that? I mean if she KNEW the hell we've been through with this kid and his stubborn ways and his 13-year-old-teenage-girl-in-a-6-year-old-boy's-body attitude, the teacher definitely would not have sent an email (today's equivalent of the dreaded note home) about his good behavior.
Yay for my little bug. He's growing up so fast and he's so much fun to be around now (as long as he's mostly getting his way) and he has the most interesting and intriguing questions and observations. It's the light at the end of the tunnel that everyone has been promising me for the last five and a half years.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Energy Galore
Ever since I stopped training for hellish, long races, my production level has skyrocketed. I am currently doing the following things:
* Canning my second (yes, SECOND) batch of salsa THIS YEAR. My first batch was two days after school started and my tomatoes had started to rot on the bottom of the box so I didn't get as much as I thought I would. My mom came out to help and it didn't take very long. Wade has been making quick work of the salsa and so this weekend, I bought another 20 pound box of tomatoes and made more salsa. This time, it took a bit longer because my mom wasn't around to help and the tomatoes hadn't started to go bad, but I found a few appliances that helped speed up the process (plus latex gloves so the jalapenos didn't burn every orifice on my face) and I just finished water bathing the last of my bottles. I have ambitious plans to can something every month. October is my mom's killer applesauce.
* Redoing the front yard landscaping. This project has needed to be done for a few years now and when's better than now? Wade would say later, but I say nay. I decided to pull out the wood in front (I'll post pictures of before and after when there's an after to take pictures of) one day while he was at work. It was starting to fall apart and upon further inspection, was actually going moldy (me and mold...we have a close relationship). And then the project sorta ballooned from there. I'm really excited for the idea in my head of what it's going to look like when it's finished and we all can only hope that it will closely resemble that.
* Refinishing an entire bedroom set. This was one of the projects I mentioned that needed garage space and FINALLY it is off and running. The bedroom set was my mom's growing up and I'm redoing it for A.'s room. Confession time: the girl, who is almost three, is still sleeping in a crib while she waits for me to do something with a headboard and a foot board and buy a new mattress. It's comically embarrassing. I have a desk, a dresser, a bedside table and the foot board and headboard to do and I'm aiming to have it done before the first snow storm hits and the garage needs to be used again for it's original intended use of housing cars.
*Speaking of A., I've also been potty training. Please don't shoot me, but it wasn't as hard as I thought it was going to be. J. potty trained himself at 2 1/2 and I realize that is incredibly unusual. A. has been a little more stubborn about it, but I just took a laid back approach to it. I asked her every morning for about a month if she'd prefer to wear underwear or a diaper. Some days, she'd choose underwear. Other days, diapers. I didn't make a big fuss about it. Then one day, I told her she could only wear underwear when we were at home unless she was going to bed. The first week, she peed through everything and I had to clean up a lot, but then, one day, she got it. Her little friend next door is potty trained and A. wanted to be just like her so she put on underwear and for the most part she's been pee-trained ever since. Now the other, we're still working on. That's definitely been a little bit of a struggle. But I haven't broken down in tears or screamed or anything, so I'd say as far as parenting struggles go, this wasn't so bad.
*Bowling has started back up. Last week was our first week and I managed to average 135. Not bad for an amateur.
*I'm making some serious headway on my novel. I get together with another gal once a week and we just let the kids play (she has a girl the same age as A.) while we write for a couple of hours. I'm excited for the idea of the novel and I just hope I can iron out the kinks. Everyone I've told the concept to seems to really like it.
*I have another project sitting out in my garage that I'm SO excited for, but it's probably going to have to wait until spring. The yard and the bedroom furniture is taking precedence right now.
Meanwhile, as I'm doing all these things, my mind is racing about all the other things I could be doing INSIDE the house and I'm excited for the cold weather now so I can do them.
Wade asked me just this morning when the next marathon I'm starting to train for is. I think this new productive side of me is starting to scare him.
* Canning my second (yes, SECOND) batch of salsa THIS YEAR. My first batch was two days after school started and my tomatoes had started to rot on the bottom of the box so I didn't get as much as I thought I would. My mom came out to help and it didn't take very long. Wade has been making quick work of the salsa and so this weekend, I bought another 20 pound box of tomatoes and made more salsa. This time, it took a bit longer because my mom wasn't around to help and the tomatoes hadn't started to go bad, but I found a few appliances that helped speed up the process (plus latex gloves so the jalapenos didn't burn every orifice on my face) and I just finished water bathing the last of my bottles. I have ambitious plans to can something every month. October is my mom's killer applesauce.
* Redoing the front yard landscaping. This project has needed to be done for a few years now and when's better than now? Wade would say later, but I say nay. I decided to pull out the wood in front (I'll post pictures of before and after when there's an after to take pictures of) one day while he was at work. It was starting to fall apart and upon further inspection, was actually going moldy (me and mold...we have a close relationship). And then the project sorta ballooned from there. I'm really excited for the idea in my head of what it's going to look like when it's finished and we all can only hope that it will closely resemble that.
* Refinishing an entire bedroom set. This was one of the projects I mentioned that needed garage space and FINALLY it is off and running. The bedroom set was my mom's growing up and I'm redoing it for A.'s room. Confession time: the girl, who is almost three, is still sleeping in a crib while she waits for me to do something with a headboard and a foot board and buy a new mattress. It's comically embarrassing. I have a desk, a dresser, a bedside table and the foot board and headboard to do and I'm aiming to have it done before the first snow storm hits and the garage needs to be used again for it's original intended use of housing cars.
*Speaking of A., I've also been potty training. Please don't shoot me, but it wasn't as hard as I thought it was going to be. J. potty trained himself at 2 1/2 and I realize that is incredibly unusual. A. has been a little more stubborn about it, but I just took a laid back approach to it. I asked her every morning for about a month if she'd prefer to wear underwear or a diaper. Some days, she'd choose underwear. Other days, diapers. I didn't make a big fuss about it. Then one day, I told her she could only wear underwear when we were at home unless she was going to bed. The first week, she peed through everything and I had to clean up a lot, but then, one day, she got it. Her little friend next door is potty trained and A. wanted to be just like her so she put on underwear and for the most part she's been pee-trained ever since. Now the other, we're still working on. That's definitely been a little bit of a struggle. But I haven't broken down in tears or screamed or anything, so I'd say as far as parenting struggles go, this wasn't so bad.
*Bowling has started back up. Last week was our first week and I managed to average 135. Not bad for an amateur.
*I'm making some serious headway on my novel. I get together with another gal once a week and we just let the kids play (she has a girl the same age as A.) while we write for a couple of hours. I'm excited for the idea of the novel and I just hope I can iron out the kinks. Everyone I've told the concept to seems to really like it.
*I have another project sitting out in my garage that I'm SO excited for, but it's probably going to have to wait until spring. The yard and the bedroom furniture is taking precedence right now.
Meanwhile, as I'm doing all these things, my mind is racing about all the other things I could be doing INSIDE the house and I'm excited for the cold weather now so I can do them.
Wade asked me just this morning when the next marathon I'm starting to train for is. I think this new productive side of me is starting to scare him.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Remembering 9/11
I would be amiss if I didn't take the same opportunity that everyone else is doing and talk a little about 9/11 on it's 10th anniversary. Pardon me for following the masses, but I feel like I should.
I use to skeptically listen to my mom recount where she was exactly when she heard that President Kennedy had been shot. I never could understand how someone could remember something so insignificant as their location so many years later unless they were directly involved in the incident.
On September 11, 2001, I was in the shower when I first heard of the attacks on the World Trade Center buildings. We had this little fish radio that hung on the shower head that I would listen to every morning as I showered for work. The radio DJ's just said that a plane had hit the World Trade Center in New York. I finished up my shower and then went and told Wade. In my head, I thought it was some pilot error or mechanical problem. Wade didn't from the get go. He said that it was a deliberate act. And I didn't believe him. I never believe him when he says that something is done deliberately to hurt others. Sadly, he's usually right.
Wade ran out to the living room and plugged the tv in. His sister had given us the television, after she had upgraded to a new one, shortly after our wedding three months prior. We didn't plug it in until September 11. We were able to then watch as the second plane hit the World Trade Center live on television. It was an eerie feeling to watch and realize that these were deliberate acts.
Life had to go on as normal for us, we were so far removed from the incident, and we had to leave for school and work. It was a somber day at work. Our headquarters were in New York, though not in the city, and we had a co-worker that was from New York. We would rush into the break room in between calls and work to watch the news coverage. I remember someone running out to tell us that the second tower had collapsed.
Being from a fairly small metropolis, I couldn't--and still can't--comprehend the sheer size of these towers. My office building had five floors. In my head, I reasoned that most everyone would have gotten out by running down the stairs. I was horribly wrong. The realization that not only did thousands of people who worked in the buildings die, but also hundreds of firefighters and police officers who had run in to help, was a terrible moment.
I can also remember someone running out to tell us that the Pentagon had been hit and we all crowded into the break room to watch as they came across and said that a fourth hijacked plane that was headed for the White House had crashed in Pennsylvania.
That night Wade and I sat on the couch and watched coverage. We cried as loved ones held up pictures of their missing brother, sister, mom, dad, husband, wife in hopes that somewhere they'd be found safe. It was an overwhelming feeling to know that so many people had woken up that Tuesday expecting it to be like every other day and in a split moment, their lives were changed forever.
I remember this all like it happened yesterday.
Over the days, we watched and listened as the stories unfolded. The last known messages from loved ones on the phone, the heroics of those on Flight 93, the survivor stories and the stories from those who didn't make it. It was all encompassing. We were mesmerized every night in front of the television.
Driving home one night from my organic chemistry class, the realization hit me that the world I lived in would never be the same. I knew that this was a defining moment in my generation. That, like the assassination of JFK, I would always remember where I was at on 9/11.
Take a moment today to remember those who suffered so terribly on 9/11. Those who were in the buildings, those on the planes, the firefighters and police officers, and those left behind to pick up the pieces. Also remember those who are fighting for our freedoms overseas, especially those who have given the ultimate sacrifice--their life--in this fight.
I use to skeptically listen to my mom recount where she was exactly when she heard that President Kennedy had been shot. I never could understand how someone could remember something so insignificant as their location so many years later unless they were directly involved in the incident.
On September 11, 2001, I was in the shower when I first heard of the attacks on the World Trade Center buildings. We had this little fish radio that hung on the shower head that I would listen to every morning as I showered for work. The radio DJ's just said that a plane had hit the World Trade Center in New York. I finished up my shower and then went and told Wade. In my head, I thought it was some pilot error or mechanical problem. Wade didn't from the get go. He said that it was a deliberate act. And I didn't believe him. I never believe him when he says that something is done deliberately to hurt others. Sadly, he's usually right.
Wade ran out to the living room and plugged the tv in. His sister had given us the television, after she had upgraded to a new one, shortly after our wedding three months prior. We didn't plug it in until September 11. We were able to then watch as the second plane hit the World Trade Center live on television. It was an eerie feeling to watch and realize that these were deliberate acts.
Life had to go on as normal for us, we were so far removed from the incident, and we had to leave for school and work. It was a somber day at work. Our headquarters were in New York, though not in the city, and we had a co-worker that was from New York. We would rush into the break room in between calls and work to watch the news coverage. I remember someone running out to tell us that the second tower had collapsed.
Being from a fairly small metropolis, I couldn't--and still can't--comprehend the sheer size of these towers. My office building had five floors. In my head, I reasoned that most everyone would have gotten out by running down the stairs. I was horribly wrong. The realization that not only did thousands of people who worked in the buildings die, but also hundreds of firefighters and police officers who had run in to help, was a terrible moment.
I can also remember someone running out to tell us that the Pentagon had been hit and we all crowded into the break room to watch as they came across and said that a fourth hijacked plane that was headed for the White House had crashed in Pennsylvania.
That night Wade and I sat on the couch and watched coverage. We cried as loved ones held up pictures of their missing brother, sister, mom, dad, husband, wife in hopes that somewhere they'd be found safe. It was an overwhelming feeling to know that so many people had woken up that Tuesday expecting it to be like every other day and in a split moment, their lives were changed forever.
I remember this all like it happened yesterday.
Over the days, we watched and listened as the stories unfolded. The last known messages from loved ones on the phone, the heroics of those on Flight 93, the survivor stories and the stories from those who didn't make it. It was all encompassing. We were mesmerized every night in front of the television.
Driving home one night from my organic chemistry class, the realization hit me that the world I lived in would never be the same. I knew that this was a defining moment in my generation. That, like the assassination of JFK, I would always remember where I was at on 9/11.
Take a moment today to remember those who suffered so terribly on 9/11. Those who were in the buildings, those on the planes, the firefighters and police officers, and those left behind to pick up the pieces. Also remember those who are fighting for our freedoms overseas, especially those who have given the ultimate sacrifice--their life--in this fight.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Stranger Blogs I Follow
I have come to realize that the majority of my adult interaction during the day comes in the form of blogs written by strangers.
Creepy.
But I thought I'd pass along some of the better ones so you too can be entertained.
Fat Cyclist
fatcyclist.com
This is the blog that got me interested in biking and it's also the one where I signed up for my 100 Miles of Nowhere event. Fatty's blog is mostly about biking but it's hilarious and has some awesome videos and pictures. Plus his story is pretty emotional and human. And he has awesome contests with awesome prizes.
Kristin Armstrong
http://milemarkers.runnersworld.com/
Yes, THAT Armstrong. This is a running blog that is written by Lance Armstrong's ex-wife. She doesn't say much about her ex so don't go reading expecting to see dirt. The blog is inspirational and spiritual and not necessarily a "how-to" blog. I love the messages she conveys and it's always a reminder why I too run.
Half-Fast
http://www.half-fast.org/
This guy has been hit and miss this year, but he writes some pretty funny stuff about running.
Now on to the really good ones:
Cake Wrecks
http://www.cakewrecks.com/
This is a blog that showcases some of the more spectacular cake mistakes. It's pure awesomeness. Check it out when you need a good laugh.
Awkward Family Photos
http://awkwardfamilyphotos.com/
Another purely awesome blog that dissects particularly horrendous family pictures. Seriously, you can't make this stuff up.
It's Lovely. I'll Take It.
http://lovelylisting.icanhascheezburger.com/
This blog heralds odd finds in real estate listings. It's amazing what people try to sell.
So, the thing is...
http://sothethingisblog.blogspot.com/
This is one of those "creeper" blogs I was telling you about. I don't know this lady at all. We don't really have anything in common. She writes a blog that someone passed on to me because they thought I'd enjoy it. It's hilarious and very real lifeish and now I'm a follower.
I know it's weird. I'm okay with it though.
Hyperbole and a Half
http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/
I LOVE the blogs that have hand drawn pictures. They are hilarious. This one isn't updated too often but it's fun to go back and read earlier posts. There may be some language and content issues that may be offensive to some of you, but I really can't remember. Just know that if there is, and you stumble upon it, you were prewarned.
Sleep Talkin' Man
http://www.sleeptalkinman.blogspot.com/
One of the funniest blogs I have ever seen. This is the actual recordings of this lady's husband sleep talking. What makes it even better is that he has an English accent and you can tell he's probably very mortified about his subconscious self. WARNING: You cannot control what you say in your sleep so some of these are not suitable for everyone. There's your fair warning.
Crappy Pictures
http://crappypictures.typepad.com/
One of my newest favorites. If you are the type of parent who's kids are always cute and you never look back upon your kid-free days with any yearning, then this blog isn't for you. However, if you are like the rest of us, check this one out. It's almost like this is me, right down to the rudimentary drawings. I was never this creative, but her life is my life in a nutshell. In fact, it makes me feel a little better that I'm not the only one experiencing all of these things. And the posts are HILARIOUS. There might be some language, I can't remember, but there's your warning.
This makes it look like I sit at the computer all day and do nothing but read blogs. Which isn't true. I do other things too. But, when I have a free minute and I'm at the computer, this is where you'll find me.
Creepy.
But I thought I'd pass along some of the better ones so you too can be entertained.
Fat Cyclist
fatcyclist.com
This is the blog that got me interested in biking and it's also the one where I signed up for my 100 Miles of Nowhere event. Fatty's blog is mostly about biking but it's hilarious and has some awesome videos and pictures. Plus his story is pretty emotional and human. And he has awesome contests with awesome prizes.
Kristin Armstrong
http://milemarkers.runnersworld.com/
Yes, THAT Armstrong. This is a running blog that is written by Lance Armstrong's ex-wife. She doesn't say much about her ex so don't go reading expecting to see dirt. The blog is inspirational and spiritual and not necessarily a "how-to" blog. I love the messages she conveys and it's always a reminder why I too run.
Half-Fast
http://www.half-fast.org/
This guy has been hit and miss this year, but he writes some pretty funny stuff about running.
Now on to the really good ones:
Cake Wrecks
http://www.cakewrecks.com/
This is a blog that showcases some of the more spectacular cake mistakes. It's pure awesomeness. Check it out when you need a good laugh.
Awkward Family Photos
http://awkwardfamilyphotos.com/
Another purely awesome blog that dissects particularly horrendous family pictures. Seriously, you can't make this stuff up.
It's Lovely. I'll Take It.
http://lovelylisting.icanhascheezburger.com/
This blog heralds odd finds in real estate listings. It's amazing what people try to sell.
So, the thing is...
http://sothethingisblog.blogspot.com/
This is one of those "creeper" blogs I was telling you about. I don't know this lady at all. We don't really have anything in common. She writes a blog that someone passed on to me because they thought I'd enjoy it. It's hilarious and very real lifeish and now I'm a follower.
I know it's weird. I'm okay with it though.
Hyperbole and a Half
http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/
I LOVE the blogs that have hand drawn pictures. They are hilarious. This one isn't updated too often but it's fun to go back and read earlier posts. There may be some language and content issues that may be offensive to some of you, but I really can't remember. Just know that if there is, and you stumble upon it, you were prewarned.
Sleep Talkin' Man
http://www.sleeptalkinman.blogspot.com/
One of the funniest blogs I have ever seen. This is the actual recordings of this lady's husband sleep talking. What makes it even better is that he has an English accent and you can tell he's probably very mortified about his subconscious self. WARNING: You cannot control what you say in your sleep so some of these are not suitable for everyone. There's your fair warning.
Crappy Pictures
http://crappypictures.typepad.com/
One of my newest favorites. If you are the type of parent who's kids are always cute and you never look back upon your kid-free days with any yearning, then this blog isn't for you. However, if you are like the rest of us, check this one out. It's almost like this is me, right down to the rudimentary drawings. I was never this creative, but her life is my life in a nutshell. In fact, it makes me feel a little better that I'm not the only one experiencing all of these things. And the posts are HILARIOUS. There might be some language, I can't remember, but there's your warning.
This makes it look like I sit at the computer all day and do nothing but read blogs. Which isn't true. I do other things too. But, when I have a free minute and I'm at the computer, this is where you'll find me.
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Latest Half Marathon Race Photo
In most of the half marathons I've done, they have photographers on the course to take pictures of your accomplishment. I've even written a few posts showing off these great masterpieces. However, at the Moonlight Half, they had a photographer at the end of the race to commemorate your finish. You would think this would generate a better picture because (a) you're not actually moving and (b) you're finished with the race.
That's not always true.
Case in point:
The most glaring thing is the horns. I had forgotten I was wearing horns until halfway home. They lit up red and were funny at 10 pm when we started our race. Then I sort of forgot they were perched on my head until I reached up as I was driving home at 2 am. Imagine pulling up to a car on the freeway and noticing that the driver was wearing devil horns.
The next glaring thing is the difference in pant legs on my friend (that's N.) She's actually wearing shorts and then has a knee brace on, which makes it look like she's wearing some new fashion trend of capris and shorts. She has also taken off one shoe and it's now sprouting out of the side of me. And she's standing on her tiptoes, which is to compensate for our extreme differences in height. She's standing tiptoey and I'm stooped over and between the two adjustments, we're a little bit closer in height. It's how most of our pictures look. She gets to show off her amazing calf muscles and I get to show off my belly folded over my waist. Nice.
As a sidenote: everyone I run with is inches--lots and lots of inches--shorter than me. I'm use to stooping over to lessen the effect I call the "Amazon Woman Effect". I never get to stand on my tiptoes and show off my amazing calf muscles.
The biggest thing, though, about this picture is our faces. We look like we just had the time of our lives. Let me set up the actual picture for you:
N: Let's go get our picture taken.
Me: No.
N: Come on. We have to get our picture taken.
Me: I don't want to have any reminder of this race.
20 minutes later
Me (Morose, defeated voice): Fine. Let's go get our picture taken.
Camera Lady: Look over here.
Reminder, it's dark and I can't see the camera lady.
Me: Where the hell am I suppose to look?
Camera Lady: 1...2...
Me (yelling): Where am I looking???
Camera Lady: 3
Snap
I guess all things considered, this is a pretty good picture.
That's not always true.
Case in point:
The most glaring thing is the horns. I had forgotten I was wearing horns until halfway home. They lit up red and were funny at 10 pm when we started our race. Then I sort of forgot they were perched on my head until I reached up as I was driving home at 2 am. Imagine pulling up to a car on the freeway and noticing that the driver was wearing devil horns.
The next glaring thing is the difference in pant legs on my friend (that's N.) She's actually wearing shorts and then has a knee brace on, which makes it look like she's wearing some new fashion trend of capris and shorts. She has also taken off one shoe and it's now sprouting out of the side of me. And she's standing on her tiptoes, which is to compensate for our extreme differences in height. She's standing tiptoey and I'm stooped over and between the two adjustments, we're a little bit closer in height. It's how most of our pictures look. She gets to show off her amazing calf muscles and I get to show off my belly folded over my waist. Nice.
As a sidenote: everyone I run with is inches--lots and lots of inches--shorter than me. I'm use to stooping over to lessen the effect I call the "Amazon Woman Effect". I never get to stand on my tiptoes and show off my amazing calf muscles.
The biggest thing, though, about this picture is our faces. We look like we just had the time of our lives. Let me set up the actual picture for you:
N: Let's go get our picture taken.
Me: No.
N: Come on. We have to get our picture taken.
Me: I don't want to have any reminder of this race.
20 minutes later
Me (Morose, defeated voice): Fine. Let's go get our picture taken.
Camera Lady: Look over here.
Reminder, it's dark and I can't see the camera lady.
Me: Where the hell am I suppose to look?
Camera Lady: 1...2...
Me (yelling): Where am I looking???
Camera Lady: 3
Snap
I guess all things considered, this is a pretty good picture.
Monday, August 29, 2011
Housekeeping
I've been chastised by a few people over the course of the last few weeks for my lack of posts. I'm going to get you all caught up here and then I promise to be more on the ball. Thank you for caring so much as to call, email, and corner me at wedding receptions to remind me that you care. :)
- After my disasterous half marathon, I took it easy and then did my annual Stansbury Days Tri the next weekend. I wasn't expecting any great times, but I was pleasantly surprised to see that I was only 15 seconds slower this year than I was last year, mainly because I have finally mastered my transitions and not necessarily because I was any faster in one discipline over another. The swim was longer, so that ate up the time I would have gained from last year. The biggest shock was when I dropped from 8th place overall (last year) to 23rd. The competition has definitely stepped up and I'm looking to step up for next year.
- My ankle reared it's ugly head during the run portion of the race and I made the difficult decision to pull out of the duathlon I had scheduled for September. I'm bummed, but I definitely don't want this injury to blossom into something worse. So, I guess, aside from a 5k here and there, I'm done racing for the season. It's a bittersweet moment because I didn't do as well on any of my big races like I had hoped. Luckily, they'll defer my registration to next year so I have something to look forward to.
- J. started 1st grade last Tuesday. He only went half a day for the first week, but today was his first full day. I'd be lying if I said that I haven't been counting down the days until school started. He has become increasingly more of a homebody and it's been difficult to get him to willingly accompany me to the grocery store or the gym without a full out tantrum. So far (fingers crossed) he hasn't been taking fits about getting up in the morning and getting to the bus, though I'm fully expecting that to change soon. I think he's enjoying 1st grade even though according to him they just sit there and do nothing all day.
- A. was lost the first day J. went to school, but I think she's enjoying the one on one attention with mom and having the house to herself. It's definitely been a lot less noisy and chaotic. She's always been easy to cart with me on errands and doesn't request a treat and/or toy at every stop. For the most part, she's really pleasant and is talking up a storm. She's also (fingers crossed again) potty training. We had a rough start, but today, she actually went into the bathroom and did her deed all by herself. I know it's a battle of wills and she will be a lot harder to train than J, but I consider today a win.
- I've been writing a new book. Hopefully this one is a little better than the book I churned out last November. Now that I have a little more free time, I've been spending it doing that.
- We're (read: I. Wade would be more than happy to rip out all flower beds and plant grass) looking at changing our front flower bed. It's been quite the process removing all the flowers and trying to decide what to do. Plus the heat hasn't helped at all. I've split the yard into six sections and every day I go out and weed a section. The only problem is that the weeds seem to be sprouting at an exponential rate and I'm feeling a little overwhelmed. It's about this time in the year where I'm looking forward to winter and not having to do any yard work.
- I won another speech contest last week. This time is was a Tall Tales. I told a story about a monster in the Stansbury Lake that I saw while we were doing our triathlon. I move on to the next level--Area--at the end of September.
- We went camping this last weekend up at Mirror Lake with some friends. It was a lot of fun, despite the rain and the Dutch Oven potatoes that refused to cook. I'm always happy when I'm up camping, but I hate getting everything together and then putting it all away. It seems easier just to go to a hotel.
- We rented a canoe for our camping trip. Wade found someone online and we laughed when we pulled up to a house and out walked a 12 year old, owner of said canoe rental company. Apparently, he's renting out the family canoes to make some cash. That's a pretty ingenius idea. It's $12 a day and comes with the paddles and the life jackets. He has two canoes and both were gone this weekend. That's $50 for the weekend and all he had to do was help lift a canoe on top of the car. The neighbor kid has to mow 5-7 lawns to bring in that kind of cash.
- My productivity level has gone out of the roof. I'm doing all sorts of things and so much of it that Wade has quit being surprised by it all. I realize now that I need to dial it down some. I don't want him to think that I could, in fact, live without him. Not that I would want to. Just that I could.
- Check out my brother's website, http://woobossbuckles.blogspot.com/ I'm going to put up a link on my sidebar. He makes belt buckles. It's kind of a weird thing if you're not in Payson or know anyone who wears belt buckles, but he's been a belt buckle collector for a lot of years now, and now he's making them. I'm surprised by the number of people who have bought one. They make kind of a unique gift for that person you don't know what to get for Christmas or a birthday. He also sells stands so you don't actually have to wear the belt buckle to show it off.
- It's my parents' 40th wedding anniversary next week. 40 years seems like an eternity. But a big shout out to them. We're all getting together this weekend to celebrate and I'm sure I'll have some stories to share.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Test Anxiety
I have terrible Text Anxiety. I always have. In school, I would freeze up on EVERY test.
Hence why it took four tries of the GRE and a special pass from the dean to graduate college.
Apparently, my test anxiety has spilled over into my running. And Friday night was another prime example.
The last FIVE (yes, 5!) long runs I've done in prep for this race, I've averaged the EXACT SAME pace. About 20 seconds slower than my goal pace. Not too shabby. Especially because other than a run in which I bonked, I was keeping a conversation and having a jolly time.
I thought for sure I would nail this last half marathon. The last half marathon on the docket until at least a year from now. If not longer. Number eight for the last two years.
It should be noted that I have been chasing a sub-2 hour half marathon for 6 of those 8 races. The closest I have gotten is 2:06. And it was a hard fought 2:06. But Friday, Friday was going to be my day. I was finally (yes, after about a year) below what I weighed for the marathon last October. I felt great. I didn't put in the heavy training that I usually do for these events, but judging by my long run times, I felt that I could easily do it.
Then Wade left for the week to go backpacking with the scouts. And I had to find a babysitter, and though I had my brother secured a while back, some plans got changed and I had to scramble this week to find one closer to home. Lo and behold it was Youth Conference and so all my usual babysitters were gone--which was just as well, because I tend to stress out a lot if I'm gone somewhere where the babysitter can't get a hold of me easily--and I ended up having to ask my parents, again. Which stressed me out because I had to clean the house so they could spend the night. Which is a little different than cleaning the house so the 15 year old neighbor can babysit. Of course, I waited until Friday to do so, and by the time N. and I left for the race at 6 pm, I was halfway cooked.
But I still felt okay. I was hydrated and ready to roll.
There's so many details that you all don't care about, but at mile 2.5, I was done. Not just tired and plodding along. Done. I told N. to go ahead and I would catch up.
Ha.
By mile 7 I had convinced myself that I was going to pull out of the race. I have never not finished a race. Ever. But Friday night, I had conceded that even the good runners pull out.
Of course they pull out a race because they aren't going to win. Not because they fear they will be the last one across the line. But, you know, whatever.
I looked around as I came to terms with my decision and realized that (a) there was no one around me and (b) the finish line (from which we had been bussed to the starting line) was 6 (6.10 miles, if you want to get technical) away. I toyed around the idea of flagging down a car (because, yes, we were running beside a major road. In the dark. Because, we're smart like that, that's why.) but then I thought what if they were a serial killer and they kidnapped me. No one would even know until N. informed the race officials that I had never shown up at the finish line. By then I would be long gone.
So I kept going.
The next water station was a mile away and I figured I would just tell one of them I was done. Happy with my decision I started jogging. I came through the water station and kept plodding along before realizing that was my last chance to bail. I guess I had changed my mind.
Ugh. The remaining five miles were a mix of self-loathing, self-pity, and pain. I've been fighting an ankle thing all summer and the hills (of which we were assured the course was mainly downhill. Apparently, the race director's idea of downhill is vastly different than my idea of downhill. My version doesn't include running up hills to run down hills) aggravated whatever's going on with my foot. I have never hated running as much as I did between miles two and 12. At mile 12, I started walking with a girl who felt the same way I did. We ran the last half mile and then I went to find N.
N., while she didn't enjoy the run at all, ran it awesome. It's the story of my life. I need a sports psychologist.
And maybe a new hobby.
Hence why it took four tries of the GRE and a special pass from the dean to graduate college.
Apparently, my test anxiety has spilled over into my running. And Friday night was another prime example.
The last FIVE (yes, 5!) long runs I've done in prep for this race, I've averaged the EXACT SAME pace. About 20 seconds slower than my goal pace. Not too shabby. Especially because other than a run in which I bonked, I was keeping a conversation and having a jolly time.
I thought for sure I would nail this last half marathon. The last half marathon on the docket until at least a year from now. If not longer. Number eight for the last two years.
It should be noted that I have been chasing a sub-2 hour half marathon for 6 of those 8 races. The closest I have gotten is 2:06. And it was a hard fought 2:06. But Friday, Friday was going to be my day. I was finally (yes, after about a year) below what I weighed for the marathon last October. I felt great. I didn't put in the heavy training that I usually do for these events, but judging by my long run times, I felt that I could easily do it.
Then Wade left for the week to go backpacking with the scouts. And I had to find a babysitter, and though I had my brother secured a while back, some plans got changed and I had to scramble this week to find one closer to home. Lo and behold it was Youth Conference and so all my usual babysitters were gone--which was just as well, because I tend to stress out a lot if I'm gone somewhere where the babysitter can't get a hold of me easily--and I ended up having to ask my parents, again. Which stressed me out because I had to clean the house so they could spend the night. Which is a little different than cleaning the house so the 15 year old neighbor can babysit. Of course, I waited until Friday to do so, and by the time N. and I left for the race at 6 pm, I was halfway cooked.
But I still felt okay. I was hydrated and ready to roll.
There's so many details that you all don't care about, but at mile 2.5, I was done. Not just tired and plodding along. Done. I told N. to go ahead and I would catch up.
Ha.
By mile 7 I had convinced myself that I was going to pull out of the race. I have never not finished a race. Ever. But Friday night, I had conceded that even the good runners pull out.
Of course they pull out a race because they aren't going to win. Not because they fear they will be the last one across the line. But, you know, whatever.
I looked around as I came to terms with my decision and realized that (a) there was no one around me and (b) the finish line (from which we had been bussed to the starting line) was 6 (6.10 miles, if you want to get technical) away. I toyed around the idea of flagging down a car (because, yes, we were running beside a major road. In the dark. Because, we're smart like that, that's why.) but then I thought what if they were a serial killer and they kidnapped me. No one would even know until N. informed the race officials that I had never shown up at the finish line. By then I would be long gone.
So I kept going.
The next water station was a mile away and I figured I would just tell one of them I was done. Happy with my decision I started jogging. I came through the water station and kept plodding along before realizing that was my last chance to bail. I guess I had changed my mind.
Ugh. The remaining five miles were a mix of self-loathing, self-pity, and pain. I've been fighting an ankle thing all summer and the hills (of which we were assured the course was mainly downhill. Apparently, the race director's idea of downhill is vastly different than my idea of downhill. My version doesn't include running up hills to run down hills) aggravated whatever's going on with my foot. I have never hated running as much as I did between miles two and 12. At mile 12, I started walking with a girl who felt the same way I did. We ran the last half mile and then I went to find N.
N., while she didn't enjoy the run at all, ran it awesome. It's the story of my life. I need a sports psychologist.
And maybe a new hobby.
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Fleeting Thoughts and Countdowns
* Summer needs to end. I never could understand why my mom would get so antsy towards the end of summer, but now that I have tasted the blessing of having a fidgety, bored six year old out of the house every day I cannot WAIT for school to start.
* That countdown: 20 days!
* Saturday, my running buddy, N. and I "practiced" our half-marathon by running 11 miles in the dark. It was eerie and creepy and...dark, but it was a good training run. We ran it with our watches only displaying the distance, not the time or pace as usual. This was to see if we could mentally run without a watch, and I have to say it was liberating. In fact, when we ended and looked up our time, (the watch still calculates time, average pace, and mile splits regardless of whether it's displayed or not) we had averaged 20 seconds per mile slower than our goal race pace. Which is AWESOME, since we didn't turn on our music at all and talked through the entire thing.
* That countdown: 10 days
* Wade is headed out on a scout trip here soon and I made a comment in a church meeting that got someone's underwear in a bunch. Seriously. I can't believe that we have to deal with this kind of crap at church. It frustrates me to no end.
* At the beginning of the racing season, I vowed I was going to concentrate on only one event--my yearly triathlon we do here in conjuction with our town's Days celebration. Then, somehow, I ended up training for a half marathon and a duathlon and the triathlon went to the sidelines. I'm a little sad because I think I could have done awesome if I would have put in the training time I had originally envisioned, but I'm happy I get to go hang out with cool friends at fun races. Makes me nervous for this triathlon though.
* That countdown: 18 days
* I'm starting to get nervous about the duathlon because of how late of a start it is (8 am) and the heat. And the six mile run after biking 30 miles. Oh, and the 3 mile run to start it off with. I'm also excited because it's my last race and then I'm taking time off. And I'm serious. Even when a friend mentioned doing a half marathon in October, there was not a stir in my heart to join her.
* That countdown: 38 days
* I've been consulting with my original running buddy who is due with baby #5 in a month. She's antsy to get back out there and start training again, but luckily, for me, she needs about 9 months to recooperate, with the up all nights and nursing. That should be about the time I'm ready to come back. And we're going to come back with a vengence. We have goals people!
* I realize that that last statement sounds like I'm making an announcement. I'm not. Just to clarify.
* My niece had to have surgery on her hip in June and the cast has been an incredible nuisance, mainly because it covers...everything...and so changing diapers and the such has been beyond a headache. I had been planning on taking the kids up to Downey, Idaho to my grandma's house for the rodeo and my brother and his wife (and little girl) were going to come up too. Then it was all up in the air because of this cast that renders them all but homebound. BUT, yesterday, she had it taken off, so we're all going to the rodeo this weekend. I'm really excited because I remember going when I was little and it being a blast. And because it's something to do that I don't even have to run insane amounts of miles to enjoy.
* That countdown: 2 days
* I'm starting a new novel. Like today. Writing one, not reading one. I'm pretty stoked about it. I've had this idea floating around in my head for awhile and I just need to put it down.
* Sometimes I wonder if anyone reads this anymore. But you know what? I don't care. Because sometimes I like to go back and reread entries and marvel at how far I've come/how far I've fallen. :) Read. Or don't read. I'm still going to write. You know, when I feel like it.
* That countdown: 20 days!
* Saturday, my running buddy, N. and I "practiced" our half-marathon by running 11 miles in the dark. It was eerie and creepy and...dark, but it was a good training run. We ran it with our watches only displaying the distance, not the time or pace as usual. This was to see if we could mentally run without a watch, and I have to say it was liberating. In fact, when we ended and looked up our time, (the watch still calculates time, average pace, and mile splits regardless of whether it's displayed or not) we had averaged 20 seconds per mile slower than our goal race pace. Which is AWESOME, since we didn't turn on our music at all and talked through the entire thing.
* That countdown: 10 days
* Wade is headed out on a scout trip here soon and I made a comment in a church meeting that got someone's underwear in a bunch. Seriously. I can't believe that we have to deal with this kind of crap at church. It frustrates me to no end.
* At the beginning of the racing season, I vowed I was going to concentrate on only one event--my yearly triathlon we do here in conjuction with our town's Days celebration. Then, somehow, I ended up training for a half marathon and a duathlon and the triathlon went to the sidelines. I'm a little sad because I think I could have done awesome if I would have put in the training time I had originally envisioned, but I'm happy I get to go hang out with cool friends at fun races. Makes me nervous for this triathlon though.
* That countdown: 18 days
* I'm starting to get nervous about the duathlon because of how late of a start it is (8 am) and the heat. And the six mile run after biking 30 miles. Oh, and the 3 mile run to start it off with. I'm also excited because it's my last race and then I'm taking time off. And I'm serious. Even when a friend mentioned doing a half marathon in October, there was not a stir in my heart to join her.
* That countdown: 38 days
* I've been consulting with my original running buddy who is due with baby #5 in a month. She's antsy to get back out there and start training again, but luckily, for me, she needs about 9 months to recooperate, with the up all nights and nursing. That should be about the time I'm ready to come back. And we're going to come back with a vengence. We have goals people!
* I realize that that last statement sounds like I'm making an announcement. I'm not. Just to clarify.
* My niece had to have surgery on her hip in June and the cast has been an incredible nuisance, mainly because it covers...everything...and so changing diapers and the such has been beyond a headache. I had been planning on taking the kids up to Downey, Idaho to my grandma's house for the rodeo and my brother and his wife (and little girl) were going to come up too. Then it was all up in the air because of this cast that renders them all but homebound. BUT, yesterday, she had it taken off, so we're all going to the rodeo this weekend. I'm really excited because I remember going when I was little and it being a blast. And because it's something to do that I don't even have to run insane amounts of miles to enjoy.
* That countdown: 2 days
* I'm starting a new novel. Like today. Writing one, not reading one. I'm pretty stoked about it. I've had this idea floating around in my head for awhile and I just need to put it down.
* Sometimes I wonder if anyone reads this anymore. But you know what? I don't care. Because sometimes I like to go back and reread entries and marvel at how far I've come/how far I've fallen. :) Read. Or don't read. I'm still going to write. You know, when I feel like it.
Monday, August 1, 2011
Farewell to Thee
It's hard to describe Ross to someone who had never met him. I met him my first Toastmaster's meeting. He was the grammarian and had an uncanny ability to pick out every grammatical mistake uttered. He was such a strange little man. Eccentric and odd. A bit loud. Not too quick on picking up on social cues.
He had the best stories about being a cab driver in Las Vegas, though I only believed about a third of them. He claimed to have met a host of celebrities and even knew Frank Sinatra.
Uh-huh.
He had moved to Salt Lake about 15 years ago and was a cab driver here.
About a year after I joined Toastmasters, Ross--who was becoming hard of hearing--misunderstood what someone was saying in their speech and took it to be offensive. That person refused to apologize and a fight broke out between them and a third guy (they are all roughly the same age--mid 60's), and Ross left the club.
I missed him at first because he did add just a bit of flair to the meetings, but over time, his presence was less felt and before long, he was a distant memory.
Two weeks ago, I had a fleeting thought about Ross. I was wondering what he was up to and that was about it. Then we found out that he had passed away from Leukemia--the very day I was thinking about him.
So creepy. I mean, this was someone that I was hardly close with. But, I felt like I shou\
ld go to his funeral.
Sidenote: I hate funerals. I do terrible at them. All of them. It doesn't matter who's there or not. I'm terrible.
But, I went.
For starters, I had no idea about his hard childhood filled with sicknesses. Or that he served in Korea. I did know that he spoke a few languages, but I had NO idea he was fluent in 10 (yes, TEN) languages, meaning he could write, speak, and read them. He could also only speak another 15. In fact, he was in the process of learning Icelandic when he passed away. Icelandic is the hardest language in the world to learn and only has about 300,000 speakers. He had a special knack for languages.
Everyone who spoke at Ross's funeral told about how intelligent and funny he was. They talked about how he wanted to get to know people and that was why he learned so many languages, so he could talk to anyone he met in their native tongue. He was especially compassionate and loved life to the fullest. Even though he was so incredibly smart and could have done anything, he wanted the simple life and chose to drive a cab.
The best part of the funeral came when a lady stood up towards the end of the services. She said that her husband was the next speaker but that he had an emergency surgery he had to perform. She was stalling time to give him a chance to get there. She spoke for about 10 minutes, relaying funny stories about Ross. When she had run out of things to say, she finally conceded that her husband wasn't going to make it.
The bishop (Ross was LDS, which was news to me) stood up to close the meeting with a few remarks, when in ran a guy in doctor scrubs. The bishop turned the time over to him and he gave some heartfelt remarks. He said he had to keep it short because his next patient was asleep on the table waiting for him.
Eek.
In the end, it was a very nice service and I'm glad I went. I was reminded of bigger things than what I've been concentrating on and I think I left a better person.
For a brief moment in time, I brushed up against a true genius, and I'm grateful for that association, even if it was only for a small chunk of time in Ross's life. But I'll always be grateful for what I learned after he was gone.
Oh, and those stories about the celebrities. All true. His sister had the pictures to prove it. Just goes to show you not to judge a book by it's cover.
He had the best stories about being a cab driver in Las Vegas, though I only believed about a third of them. He claimed to have met a host of celebrities and even knew Frank Sinatra.
Uh-huh.
He had moved to Salt Lake about 15 years ago and was a cab driver here.
About a year after I joined Toastmasters, Ross--who was becoming hard of hearing--misunderstood what someone was saying in their speech and took it to be offensive. That person refused to apologize and a fight broke out between them and a third guy (they are all roughly the same age--mid 60's), and Ross left the club.
I missed him at first because he did add just a bit of flair to the meetings, but over time, his presence was less felt and before long, he was a distant memory.
Two weeks ago, I had a fleeting thought about Ross. I was wondering what he was up to and that was about it. Then we found out that he had passed away from Leukemia--the very day I was thinking about him.
So creepy. I mean, this was someone that I was hardly close with. But, I felt like I shou\
ld go to his funeral.
Sidenote: I hate funerals. I do terrible at them. All of them. It doesn't matter who's there or not. I'm terrible.
But, I went.
For starters, I had no idea about his hard childhood filled with sicknesses. Or that he served in Korea. I did know that he spoke a few languages, but I had NO idea he was fluent in 10 (yes, TEN) languages, meaning he could write, speak, and read them. He could also only speak another 15. In fact, he was in the process of learning Icelandic when he passed away. Icelandic is the hardest language in the world to learn and only has about 300,000 speakers. He had a special knack for languages.
Everyone who spoke at Ross's funeral told about how intelligent and funny he was. They talked about how he wanted to get to know people and that was why he learned so many languages, so he could talk to anyone he met in their native tongue. He was especially compassionate and loved life to the fullest. Even though he was so incredibly smart and could have done anything, he wanted the simple life and chose to drive a cab.
The best part of the funeral came when a lady stood up towards the end of the services. She said that her husband was the next speaker but that he had an emergency surgery he had to perform. She was stalling time to give him a chance to get there. She spoke for about 10 minutes, relaying funny stories about Ross. When she had run out of things to say, she finally conceded that her husband wasn't going to make it.
The bishop (Ross was LDS, which was news to me) stood up to close the meeting with a few remarks, when in ran a guy in doctor scrubs. The bishop turned the time over to him and he gave some heartfelt remarks. He said he had to keep it short because his next patient was asleep on the table waiting for him.
Eek.
In the end, it was a very nice service and I'm glad I went. I was reminded of bigger things than what I've been concentrating on and I think I left a better person.
For a brief moment in time, I brushed up against a true genius, and I'm grateful for that association, even if it was only for a small chunk of time in Ross's life. But I'll always be grateful for what I learned after he was gone.
Oh, and those stories about the celebrities. All true. His sister had the pictures to prove it. Just goes to show you not to judge a book by it's cover.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Disorganized Organization
I am, self-proclaimed, the most disorganized person I know. It's like a curse. I have some incredibly organized friends (I keep telling one friend that she should become a professional organizer and get paid because she is THAT good) and sister-in-laws, but I'm like a little space monkey next to them.
This has been causing me a lot of stress lately.
I want to be organized. I desire to be organized. I love to be at their homes because they are so organized. I want to love to be at my house because I'm so organized.
And I have a bazillion projects I want to do, but they are all dependent on another project that has to get done. And that project is dependent on another project. And on and on. It's a vicious, vicious cycle and I get overwhelmed easily.
Friday, I decided I was done with being disorganized. I found a project (two actually) and they are both dependant on the garage being cleaned out. So, Friday morning, I set out to do just that. I cleaned out the garage, hosed it down, and arranged everything so that we could put two cars in instead of no cars. This alone was a big accomplishment.
Now I have my workspace.
(What are my two projects? You'll have to wait and see. It's a surprise.)
Also, I sorta got bit by the sewing bug. I'm understandedly a bit confused about this because I have had next to zero desire, except for a fleeting moment when I had just had J., in which I had any inkling of anything that could be called desire to sew. But now?
I figure it's God way of preparing me for the end of the world.
And then there's the whole writing thing, which I love, but have made no effort to incorporate into my life. I need to work on that.
I know that if I was more organized I would find oodles and oodles of time (time spent looking for library books and figuring out what to make for lunch and cleaning the house) in which I could actually do stuff I WANT to do instead of stuff I HAVE to do.
Which brings me to the introduction of the Family Bible. I will go into the Family Bible more intricately in another (boring?) blog post but basically it's a binder with a monthly calendar, a weekly to-do list, a daily to-do list, a running shopping list, a list of meals--breakfast, lunch, and dinner--for the week, a detailed step-by-step project for the week that I'll concentrate on and what/how much exercise I'm doing each day of the week.
Watch out people! Like my menu cards, which have completely revolutionized our dinner plans, I plan on the Family Bible doing the same for my life.
Consider this an introduction into how I take over the world!
This has been causing me a lot of stress lately.
I want to be organized. I desire to be organized. I love to be at their homes because they are so organized. I want to love to be at my house because I'm so organized.
And I have a bazillion projects I want to do, but they are all dependent on another project that has to get done. And that project is dependent on another project. And on and on. It's a vicious, vicious cycle and I get overwhelmed easily.
Friday, I decided I was done with being disorganized. I found a project (two actually) and they are both dependant on the garage being cleaned out. So, Friday morning, I set out to do just that. I cleaned out the garage, hosed it down, and arranged everything so that we could put two cars in instead of no cars. This alone was a big accomplishment.
Now I have my workspace.
(What are my two projects? You'll have to wait and see. It's a surprise.)
Also, I sorta got bit by the sewing bug. I'm understandedly a bit confused about this because I have had next to zero desire, except for a fleeting moment when I had just had J., in which I had any inkling of anything that could be called desire to sew. But now?
I figure it's God way of preparing me for the end of the world.
And then there's the whole writing thing, which I love, but have made no effort to incorporate into my life. I need to work on that.
I know that if I was more organized I would find oodles and oodles of time (time spent looking for library books and figuring out what to make for lunch and cleaning the house) in which I could actually do stuff I WANT to do instead of stuff I HAVE to do.
Which brings me to the introduction of the Family Bible. I will go into the Family Bible more intricately in another (boring?) blog post but basically it's a binder with a monthly calendar, a weekly to-do list, a daily to-do list, a running shopping list, a list of meals--breakfast, lunch, and dinner--for the week, a detailed step-by-step project for the week that I'll concentrate on and what/how much exercise I'm doing each day of the week.
Watch out people! Like my menu cards, which have completely revolutionized our dinner plans, I plan on the Family Bible doing the same for my life.
Consider this an introduction into how I take over the world!
Thursday, July 21, 2011
The Universe is Plotting Against Me
This morning, I woke up to do a six mile run. I wasn't feeling very good. My legs were still sore from my 10 miler on Monday and my arms were sore from lifting weights yesterday. And I'm just tired all around. Like burned out, but I still have three more big races to go until the end of the season.
And then...
I don't know. Something quiet like knitting or sewing or baking bread.
But until then, I'm still hammering away the miles.
So, I pick up my running buddy N. and head over to another running buddy's house C. C. is from the original group who trained for the marathon, but since the other member of the trio got pregnant and hasn't been running since she hit about 24 weeks, C. has been running with someone else. So I don't see her much. But that someone else is at Girls Camp this week so, I called C. to see if she wanted to join us.
Hence how me, S., is running with N. and C. this morning.
Got it? Good.
So, we start off and I know from the get go--really from the moment I woke up--that this was not going to be one of my more stellar runs. So I let N. go ahead of me. I can see her and I think she makes the next turn, but then we never see her again. C. and I wind through our little township and never see N. WHich would not be a big deal, except for that you could spend hours on some of those streets and never find your way out. Finally, I decide that I should probably go in search of her. But where?
I drive around and never see her, so I go home to see if maybe she's called. But she hasn't. So I have to wake the kids (neither kid is an early riser. J. will sleep until 9:30. A. will sleep usually until 8:30 or 9:00. It's 7:30 and Wade is heading off to work) and load them in the car to go back out. Luckily, I find N. on her way home. She had, indeed, missed the turn, and then couldn't remember where the water we had put out was, and by then it was getting warm and she had been out for 7+ miles. But because C. lives about 2 miles from us, she had quite a ways to go.
So why did I go in search of my buddy? Because I'm a good friend, that's why. I kind of feel responsible for the people I run with. Their husbands know they are out with me and they probably assume that we're all together. So if N. would have gotten kidnapped or hurt and I left her to find her own way home, then I sorta feel like it would have been partly my blame.
I just feel better if I know that you've made it home.
Now, if you're running by yourself, I have no qualms about it. That's a risk we all take when we step outside by ourselves.
But, have no fear, because no good deed goes unpunished. As I was carting in my cranky kids, a box of cereal, and a bottle of water, I managed to drop my smartphone onto the driveway and it shattered the screen. It's still usable, but now there's a spider web that spreads across it.
Not the worse thing going on in my life right now, but I was still really mad about it. Especially when two minutes later, the box of cereal I had sacrificed my phone for was ceremoniously dumped onto the living room carpet.
And then...
I don't know. Something quiet like knitting or sewing or baking bread.
But until then, I'm still hammering away the miles.
So, I pick up my running buddy N. and head over to another running buddy's house C. C. is from the original group who trained for the marathon, but since the other member of the trio got pregnant and hasn't been running since she hit about 24 weeks, C. has been running with someone else. So I don't see her much. But that someone else is at Girls Camp this week so, I called C. to see if she wanted to join us.
Hence how me, S., is running with N. and C. this morning.
Got it? Good.
So, we start off and I know from the get go--really from the moment I woke up--that this was not going to be one of my more stellar runs. So I let N. go ahead of me. I can see her and I think she makes the next turn, but then we never see her again. C. and I wind through our little township and never see N. WHich would not be a big deal, except for that you could spend hours on some of those streets and never find your way out. Finally, I decide that I should probably go in search of her. But where?
I drive around and never see her, so I go home to see if maybe she's called. But she hasn't. So I have to wake the kids (neither kid is an early riser. J. will sleep until 9:30. A. will sleep usually until 8:30 or 9:00. It's 7:30 and Wade is heading off to work) and load them in the car to go back out. Luckily, I find N. on her way home. She had, indeed, missed the turn, and then couldn't remember where the water we had put out was, and by then it was getting warm and she had been out for 7+ miles. But because C. lives about 2 miles from us, she had quite a ways to go.
So why did I go in search of my buddy? Because I'm a good friend, that's why. I kind of feel responsible for the people I run with. Their husbands know they are out with me and they probably assume that we're all together. So if N. would have gotten kidnapped or hurt and I left her to find her own way home, then I sorta feel like it would have been partly my blame.
I just feel better if I know that you've made it home.
Now, if you're running by yourself, I have no qualms about it. That's a risk we all take when we step outside by ourselves.
But, have no fear, because no good deed goes unpunished. As I was carting in my cranky kids, a box of cereal, and a bottle of water, I managed to drop my smartphone onto the driveway and it shattered the screen. It's still usable, but now there's a spider web that spreads across it.
Not the worse thing going on in my life right now, but I was still really mad about it. Especially when two minutes later, the box of cereal I had sacrificed my phone for was ceremoniously dumped onto the living room carpet.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Ha!
I've written three different blog entries for today and then deleted them all because they were all stupid.
What is going on?
What is going on?
Monday, July 18, 2011
When Good Ideas Go Terribly, Terribly Wrong
The local cinema out here in boondock land hosts a summer movie thingie where, for $10, you get to go a movie every week, on the same day of the week, at the same time. They're predetermined shows and are usually children's movies a year or two old. It's a nice way to get out of the house and at least the theater is air conditioned.
Some weeks are not bad. Some weeks, the movies last FOREVER. We did this when A. was a baby because it was right during her nap time. I didn't do it last year because she had just learned to walk and I figured there was no way she would sit through all those movies.
And then this year, I thought maybe she had matured a little bit. She'll sit through movies at home with no problem. We've gone to other movies at times and she's been fine. But for whatever reason, she does not like these movies.
I had the foresight to get a ticket for one of J.'s friend's so that J. isn't all alone. Which is nice, because I spend the majority of every movie out in the foyer, or in the bathroom, or, as was the case today, in the car. Because A. would rather be anywhere but watching a movie.
Oiy. This girl has the attention span of a tiny insect and she is driving me nuts! I take back all those things I said about J. like how he was the most stubborn kid I had ever met. Or how he was so independent and fierce. Because his sister has shown him up.
Don't even get me started on church. How did I manage to sire two children with such an intense hatred of church?
If I survive the next year, I'll consider it a miracle. Baby steps. Baby steps.
Some weeks are not bad. Some weeks, the movies last FOREVER. We did this when A. was a baby because it was right during her nap time. I didn't do it last year because she had just learned to walk and I figured there was no way she would sit through all those movies.
And then this year, I thought maybe she had matured a little bit. She'll sit through movies at home with no problem. We've gone to other movies at times and she's been fine. But for whatever reason, she does not like these movies.
I had the foresight to get a ticket for one of J.'s friend's so that J. isn't all alone. Which is nice, because I spend the majority of every movie out in the foyer, or in the bathroom, or, as was the case today, in the car. Because A. would rather be anywhere but watching a movie.
Oiy. This girl has the attention span of a tiny insect and she is driving me nuts! I take back all those things I said about J. like how he was the most stubborn kid I had ever met. Or how he was so independent and fierce. Because his sister has shown him up.
Don't even get me started on church. How did I manage to sire two children with such an intense hatred of church?
If I survive the next year, I'll consider it a miracle. Baby steps. Baby steps.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Wade Goes Camping
Wade is in charge of the older scouts. The ones between 14 and 18. They are suppose to be the "tough" scouts and Wade likes to remind them of this on occassion.
This last weekend, it was the Boyscout On Target Day, or something like that. The idea is to build reflecting mirrors and beam other scouts on top of peaks around the valley. With ultrabright lights reflecting the sun's rays.
I know. I know.
So Wade decided that he would backpack the boys into a lake three miles from the trailhead to Deseret Peak, the tallest peak in Tooele County. And then on Saturday, they would hike the fiveish miles to the peak, beam their buddies at the other peaks, and then hike the eight miles back to the trailhead.
The weekend before, he built this ultra-cool mirror comprised of four (yes, four!) 12 x 12 mirrored tiles mounted on a 16 inch circular piece of wood. It was quite the project and then he had to dismantle it because how does one cart a 2 foot by 2 foot mirror up a mountain?
In pieces, that's how.
Late Friday afternoon, they took off. In his party were three (yes, three) boys and three adults. None of the adults were fathers to any of the boys.
The rest of the story is what he relayed to me upon coming home:
It took them a lot longer than they had anticipated to hike into the lake Friday afternoon, a road best suited for ATVs and had been washed out by a blocked river, and by the time they got there it was dark. So they just set up their tents anywhere.
(I believe they all brought their own tents, which makes zero sense, but I let him continue with his tale).
He helped one of the adult leaders with his tent, which had the wrong poles. But luckily, this guy had packed a hammer. Which was of no use except for very heavy.
They ate dinner. Then they talked. And then when it was time to go to bed, and that was when Wade discovered that he was sleeping on a pile of rocks. Very pokey, sharp rocks. Things were fairly uneventful until roughly about 2 am, when the wind picked up. The wind ALWAYS picks up when Wade is out on a backpacking trip with the scouts. When Wade looked out his window, he noticed that his buddy with the hammer had two broken poles and his head was completely exposed on the outside of the tent.
Wade tried to fall back asleep.
At 4 am, a shift in wind direction brought an especially bad gust of wind and Wade looked outside again. This time The Hammer's tent had fallen down and he was in the process of packing it up. Wade invited him into his tent to which The Hammer replied:
"I'll think about it."
Sometime between 4:30 and 5:30, The Hammer declared to Wade that he was headed home. And with that, he was gone, his tent nestled somewhere in the bushes, given up to the gods.
The beaming was suppose to take place between 11 am and 1 pm, so the rest of the group had to get up early and start heading up the peak.
It seems that the peak is still covered in snow though. But not to be deterred, Wade kept his troop moving along, traversing snow packs. At one point, they came to a place that they couldn't navigate. Wade agreed to go ahead and spot where they could make it through. When he came back to his group a mutiny had formed. The remaining five people usurped Wade's authority and declared that they were not going to hike to the top of Deseret Peak.
Wade got them to agree to hike a smaller peak nearby, so they all trekked back and then up to the next peak. At the pass just below the peak, one of the boys and the other adult leader refused to go any higher. Wade, who had lugged up a monster of a mirror to beam other troops was not going to give up so easily, so he got the other two boys to accompany him, more so that he would have two extra people to carry the mirrored tiles than for company sake.
He was able to beam some of the other peaks--much to my astonishment. They had a grand time. Then they came back, picked up their backpacks at their campsites and came home.
He noted that the boys were a little tired and even showed some concern as to the boy who would be putting on a fire dancing show in a mere 30 minutes. When Wade dropped off the lone remaining adult leader, he had to carry in the guy's backpack and expressed a desire to maybe drive him to the emergency room. He wasn't really answering questions and looked a little pale. His wife didn't seem too concerned so Wade left and came home.
As it turns out, maybe Wade needs to come with some warning label that says WARNING: I am bionic man who needs no breaks, no rest, no food, and am compelled to finish anything remotely crazy. Proceed with caution.
I will be forever grateful to the scout program for making it so I don't have to accompany him on as many insane trips.
This last weekend, it was the Boyscout On Target Day, or something like that. The idea is to build reflecting mirrors and beam other scouts on top of peaks around the valley. With ultrabright lights reflecting the sun's rays.
I know. I know.
So Wade decided that he would backpack the boys into a lake three miles from the trailhead to Deseret Peak, the tallest peak in Tooele County. And then on Saturday, they would hike the fiveish miles to the peak, beam their buddies at the other peaks, and then hike the eight miles back to the trailhead.
The weekend before, he built this ultra-cool mirror comprised of four (yes, four!) 12 x 12 mirrored tiles mounted on a 16 inch circular piece of wood. It was quite the project and then he had to dismantle it because how does one cart a 2 foot by 2 foot mirror up a mountain?
In pieces, that's how.
Late Friday afternoon, they took off. In his party were three (yes, three) boys and three adults. None of the adults were fathers to any of the boys.
The rest of the story is what he relayed to me upon coming home:
It took them a lot longer than they had anticipated to hike into the lake Friday afternoon, a road best suited for ATVs and had been washed out by a blocked river, and by the time they got there it was dark. So they just set up their tents anywhere.
(I believe they all brought their own tents, which makes zero sense, but I let him continue with his tale).
He helped one of the adult leaders with his tent, which had the wrong poles. But luckily, this guy had packed a hammer. Which was of no use except for very heavy.
They ate dinner. Then they talked. And then when it was time to go to bed, and that was when Wade discovered that he was sleeping on a pile of rocks. Very pokey, sharp rocks. Things were fairly uneventful until roughly about 2 am, when the wind picked up. The wind ALWAYS picks up when Wade is out on a backpacking trip with the scouts. When Wade looked out his window, he noticed that his buddy with the hammer had two broken poles and his head was completely exposed on the outside of the tent.
Wade tried to fall back asleep.
At 4 am, a shift in wind direction brought an especially bad gust of wind and Wade looked outside again. This time The Hammer's tent had fallen down and he was in the process of packing it up. Wade invited him into his tent to which The Hammer replied:
"I'll think about it."
Sometime between 4:30 and 5:30, The Hammer declared to Wade that he was headed home. And with that, he was gone, his tent nestled somewhere in the bushes, given up to the gods.
The beaming was suppose to take place between 11 am and 1 pm, so the rest of the group had to get up early and start heading up the peak.
It seems that the peak is still covered in snow though. But not to be deterred, Wade kept his troop moving along, traversing snow packs. At one point, they came to a place that they couldn't navigate. Wade agreed to go ahead and spot where they could make it through. When he came back to his group a mutiny had formed. The remaining five people usurped Wade's authority and declared that they were not going to hike to the top of Deseret Peak.
Wade got them to agree to hike a smaller peak nearby, so they all trekked back and then up to the next peak. At the pass just below the peak, one of the boys and the other adult leader refused to go any higher. Wade, who had lugged up a monster of a mirror to beam other troops was not going to give up so easily, so he got the other two boys to accompany him, more so that he would have two extra people to carry the mirrored tiles than for company sake.
He was able to beam some of the other peaks--much to my astonishment. They had a grand time. Then they came back, picked up their backpacks at their campsites and came home.
He noted that the boys were a little tired and even showed some concern as to the boy who would be putting on a fire dancing show in a mere 30 minutes. When Wade dropped off the lone remaining adult leader, he had to carry in the guy's backpack and expressed a desire to maybe drive him to the emergency room. He wasn't really answering questions and looked a little pale. His wife didn't seem too concerned so Wade left and came home.
As it turns out, maybe Wade needs to come with some warning label that says WARNING: I am bionic man who needs no breaks, no rest, no food, and am compelled to finish anything remotely crazy. Proceed with caution.
I will be forever grateful to the scout program for making it so I don't have to accompany him on as many insane trips.
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