1.31.2007
How did that happen?
This is a little premature but…I was reading Mom 101 this morning, her non-Blogiversary occurred today. It got me thinking about how old my blog is, and damned if I wasn’t surprised to find that my humble little blog will be one year old tomorrow. It is hard to believe that for some insane reason I felt the need to just get-my-own-blog-already a year ago. I haven’t been horribly consistent about blogging during this year, like everything else in my life I seem to go in fits and bursts. I have enjoyed doing it though. It is a good outlet for me. I can write what I want, without concern that I am being self-centered (as would be my feeling if I just spouted this stuff on a message board). Other people actually read what I write sometimes too, which never ceases to give me warm fuzzies. I don’t get all that many comments, but Google Analytics tells me that there are some people reading anyway! As I am more of a lurker than a commenter when I read blogs, I can respect the lack of comments. Still, if you ever want to shout out to me, please do, I love seeing just treadmilling around emails telling me there is a new comment. Does that make me vain? Oh well, too bad if it does!
1.30.2007
Uniqua
I’ve mentioned before that my children watch far too much television, so it should come as no surprise that The Girl has a favorite show. It is hands down The Backyardagins. She will get up and run to the television when she hears even a hint of the theme music so she can be closer to her beloved little singing and dancing fools. She screams “Pa boh” and gets giddy with anticipation. The show is okay as far as kids shows go. I get a little too excited over new episodes, simply because you can watch the "Snow Fort" only so many times before your head threatens to explode. All of the Grandparents have witnessed The Girl’s reaction to Backyardigans, so it came as no surprise that she got not one, not two, but all five of the funny little creatures for Christmas. Thank you Mom, for sending the Beanie Baby characters in favor of the more annoying talking/dancing ones we’ve seen at Target!
*If you are not familiar with the Backyardigans you should probably just skip this entry, no worries.*
The characters are as follows: Pablo, who upon examination reveals himself to be a penguin. Pablo is in nearly every episode, and he generally is a happy-go-lucky guy. Tasha, whom is almost always wearing a dress and some maryjane style shoes, is a hippo. Tasha is annoying. She is the prissy friend in the neighborhood who likes to boss everyone around, and has to control most interaction. She never participates in physical challenges, this is magnified in the Egypt episode where she sings over and over again about how she “likes being a Prin-cess.” As a tom-boy myself, I find Tasha hard to relate to, and might just barf a little in my mouth if The Girl develops princess envy at some point. Tyrone is a moose. He is a good friend to all of the Backyardigans and doesn’t complain too much. My favorite Tyrone episode involves Tyrone as the “Moose of the Mist,” something to be feared, but Tyrone isn’t even aware that He is the Moose of the Mist until Uniqua points it out to him. Austin is not in every episode, but he is a cool little guy. I waver a bit on what exactly Austin is supposed to be, sometimes I think rabbit because of the tall ears on his head, but his tail is not so rabbit-ish so I sometimes think he is some kind of lizard.
This brings me to the enigma of the group, and that is Uniqua. Her name and species is listed as Uniqua, whatever that means. She is the fearless little tomboy of the group. Before checking out the character bios on the UK Nick Jr. page, DH and I went back and forth about what exactly Uniqua was. He insisted she was a salamander, and I kept thinking pig because she is pink. Our babysitter sided with DH the other night though, so perhaps I am overruled. I find it a bit curious that the tomboy of the group, the girl who doesn’t fit girl stereotypes is labeled as her own species. It is as if *gasp* girls don’t play sports. What century are we living in anyway?
Yes, I have put far too much thought into this.
*If you are not familiar with the Backyardigans you should probably just skip this entry, no worries.*
The characters are as follows: Pablo, who upon examination reveals himself to be a penguin. Pablo is in nearly every episode, and he generally is a happy-go-lucky guy. Tasha, whom is almost always wearing a dress and some maryjane style shoes, is a hippo. Tasha is annoying. She is the prissy friend in the neighborhood who likes to boss everyone around, and has to control most interaction. She never participates in physical challenges, this is magnified in the Egypt episode where she sings over and over again about how she “likes being a Prin-cess.” As a tom-boy myself, I find Tasha hard to relate to, and might just barf a little in my mouth if The Girl develops princess envy at some point. Tyrone is a moose. He is a good friend to all of the Backyardigans and doesn’t complain too much. My favorite Tyrone episode involves Tyrone as the “Moose of the Mist,” something to be feared, but Tyrone isn’t even aware that He is the Moose of the Mist until Uniqua points it out to him. Austin is not in every episode, but he is a cool little guy. I waver a bit on what exactly Austin is supposed to be, sometimes I think rabbit because of the tall ears on his head, but his tail is not so rabbit-ish so I sometimes think he is some kind of lizard.
This brings me to the enigma of the group, and that is Uniqua. Her name and species is listed as Uniqua, whatever that means. She is the fearless little tomboy of the group. Before checking out the character bios on the UK Nick Jr. page, DH and I went back and forth about what exactly Uniqua was. He insisted she was a salamander, and I kept thinking pig because she is pink. Our babysitter sided with DH the other night though, so perhaps I am overruled. I find it a bit curious that the tomboy of the group, the girl who doesn’t fit girl stereotypes is labeled as her own species. It is as if *gasp* girls don’t play sports. What century are we living in anyway?
Yes, I have put far too much thought into this.
Is it spring yet?
January is almost over, which means February is about to begin, yippee! Oh wait, what does the start of February mean? That’s right, not much at all. Another 4 weeks until we get to March, which can still be frigid here in the frozen tundra, but just sounds like spring. I can’t believe I actually posted in December about it being too warm, what was I thinking? That is seasonal amnesia for you. My treadmill is getting quite a workout lately, as this weather wimp is opting for every run on the good old TM rather than braving the frigid outdoor air. Still the thought of spring keeps creeping into my mind, and I keep plugging away on the TM so I will be ready to run outside when it warms up again. I need to find a new goal race to aim towards, perhaps a late spring half marathon?
1.15.2007
I've got Nothin'
Sorry for being neglectful of this blog. It turns out that my life just isn’t that interesting lately. I could write about my most recent attempt to drop the last bit of baby weight, or I could write more about the home renovations, or I suppose I could write about my children. However, I don’t really feel like writing about any of those things so I’ve just been silent. I haven’t even had to travel for work since late November, so I can’t even add complaint posts. I guess it is a good place to be in, but it doesn’t make for a very interesting blog. Oh well, if you are reading this you will likely still be around when I find something of interest to write about again won’t you?
I do have to say that Johnny and the Sprites is now a full half hour show on Playhouse Disney. It turns out that it is worse than I ever imagined. I lasted about 5 minutes into the program before searching Sprout, Noggin, and PBS Kids digital channel for something more acceptable, and finally just turning the TV off because the kids didn’t seem to mind. I’ll just come out with the hard truth that I don’t like Muppets in any form. I find them disturbing and have since I was an adult. I don’t recall being afraid of them as a child, so I’m sure the annoyance set in only as I aged. My poor kids will be deprived simply because I can’t stand having Sesame Street on in my presence. Oh well, TV is bad for kids anyway right?
I do have to say that Johnny and the Sprites is now a full half hour show on Playhouse Disney. It turns out that it is worse than I ever imagined. I lasted about 5 minutes into the program before searching Sprout, Noggin, and PBS Kids digital channel for something more acceptable, and finally just turning the TV off because the kids didn’t seem to mind. I’ll just come out with the hard truth that I don’t like Muppets in any form. I find them disturbing and have since I was an adult. I don’t recall being afraid of them as a child, so I’m sure the annoyance set in only as I aged. My poor kids will be deprived simply because I can’t stand having Sesame Street on in my presence. Oh well, TV is bad for kids anyway right?
1.04.2007
Let's piss off some women runners
I just read this post here, about this article, and am fuming mad. The guy who wrote the article is deemed an "expert" but has no PhD or MD after his name so I assume he is just spewing a theory.
The only reason women would ever even consider running is so that they could be "little and cute" don't you know. We wouldn't want to risk being "saggy and hurt." Perhaps if we buy more of the author's products or services we can become "little and cute" without *gasp* running. Please. I've been a runner since 1999, and I do not have a classic runner's body. I've never been injured in a way that didn't directly relate to shoes, despite training for and running two marathons and many half marathons. I have no words for the author, he is not worthy of them.
The only reason women would ever even consider running is so that they could be "little and cute" don't you know. We wouldn't want to risk being "saggy and hurt." Perhaps if we buy more of the author's products or services we can become "little and cute" without *gasp* running. Please. I've been a runner since 1999, and I do not have a classic runner's body. I've never been injured in a way that didn't directly relate to shoes, despite training for and running two marathons and many half marathons. I have no words for the author, he is not worthy of them.
A remodeling journey
I alluded to a big house remodel project in my last post, so I thought that I would elaborate just a bit about what that project will entail. Our wonderful 2 story house was built in 1986. It is a nice house, but in 1986 people were more inclined to separate dining rooms from kitchens, kitchens from living rooms, and to have family rooms in the partially finished basement. This is not how we want to live though, so from the first time we set foot in our house we knew when it was ours we would eventually remodel it. We had plans drawn up to remove walls between the living room and dining room and between the dining room and kitchen so we could have the open floor plan we dream about (well I don’t know that I’ve ever actually dreamed about it but you know what I mean). We also want to add a shower to the ½ bathroom on our main floor so my Mom who uses a wheelchair as her primary means of mobility doesn’t stink so much when she visits us for a week at a time. We love you Mom, but you really do need to shower *wink*. I also really really really want to be able to watch television while I am cooking in the kitchen. There I’ve admitted it, I’m a TV junkie. We could rig something up in the existing kitchen, but then I’d lose the TV that sits on the desk in the office – so I can surf the web AND watch HGTV at the same time (after the kids to go sleep). Yes, I could do the same in the living room, but then I’d have to use my work laptop and I think our desktop computer needs the attention. Oh, and I want to be able to see the children in the family room when I’m in the kitchen, because quiet children are almost always up to no good.
After nearly completing the plans for our main floor remodel, we started discussing how we would live in the house through the construction. We do have a nice family room in the basement complete with a partially functioning wet bar (with a beautiful blue countertop *sarcasm*), so we figured we will create a pseudo kitchen in that area to get us through. Of course there is no functioning bathroom in the basement, and the prospect of walking up 2 flights of stairs when a 3 year old needs to pee doesn’t seem realistic, so we are now about to add a 4th bathroom to our house. The nice family room has a nice fireplace, that currently has a nice Pacemaster Treadmill parked right in front of it, and a barely used recumbent bike right next to it. In order to live through construction without the kids killing themselves on the exercise equipment we need to add an exercise room as well (or at least carve out a new spot for the treadmill). Do you see how these projects just take on a life of their own?
I can’t tell you how much I want to be featured on Designer’s Challenge, or a similar show on HGTV, but alas it doesn’t look like they are accepting applications right now. I do feel that as a home improvement/design shown enthusiast it is my responsibility to document the projects from start to finish. However, I’m not sure if I am up to that challenge. So my question to you is this: should I start a sister blog devoted solely to our home renovations? If nothing else it might be interesting for us after the project is complete. I’ll post a link if I decide to take the leap…I suppose I need to take some before pictures before we start construction.
After nearly completing the plans for our main floor remodel, we started discussing how we would live in the house through the construction. We do have a nice family room in the basement complete with a partially functioning wet bar (with a beautiful blue countertop *sarcasm*), so we figured we will create a pseudo kitchen in that area to get us through. Of course there is no functioning bathroom in the basement, and the prospect of walking up 2 flights of stairs when a 3 year old needs to pee doesn’t seem realistic, so we are now about to add a 4th bathroom to our house. The nice family room has a nice fireplace, that currently has a nice Pacemaster Treadmill parked right in front of it, and a barely used recumbent bike right next to it. In order to live through construction without the kids killing themselves on the exercise equipment we need to add an exercise room as well (or at least carve out a new spot for the treadmill). Do you see how these projects just take on a life of their own?
I can’t tell you how much I want to be featured on Designer’s Challenge, or a similar show on HGTV, but alas it doesn’t look like they are accepting applications right now. I do feel that as a home improvement/design shown enthusiast it is my responsibility to document the projects from start to finish. However, I’m not sure if I am up to that challenge. So my question to you is this: should I start a sister blog devoted solely to our home renovations? If nothing else it might be interesting for us after the project is complete. I’ll post a link if I decide to take the leap…I suppose I need to take some before pictures before we start construction.
1.03.2007
Reflections
Every once in a while I like to take a step back from the craziness of my daily routines to really consider what I have going on in my life. I did that the other day and came to the conclusion that my life is pretty good. My DH is great, sure he isn’t perfect, but who is. He puts up with my craziness which says a lot, I know I wouldn’t like being married to me. My kids are great too. The Boy is so loving and caring; he has a fun little zest for life that I wish I could bottle. The Girl is amazingly strong willed; she and I will end up butting heads one day I can bet on it, but for now she looks up to me like I am the world. She wants to be next to me and near me no matter what her other options are, and I know this won’t last forever. We haven’t decided for certain whether there will be a baby #3, but to even have that option makes us very lucky. I know several people who have struggled with infertility, and aside from my early miscarriage before The Boy we have had little trouble in that department.
There are many other good things in my life, we have wonderful families who love us, and care about us. We have a nice home, we aren’t in debt, and we have good jobs. We have a good chunk of money already set aside for retirement, and are able to add to it each and every month. I know many people who really do live paycheck to paycheck and struggle to make ends meet. Again, we are lucky we don’t have that added stress. It almost makes me feel a little guilty when a friend complains about not being able to buy any extras, or worse can’t even meet their current expenses.
I believe that luck, a good dose of common sense, and a good upbringing helped us to get to this position, oh and cheapness. DH and I have lived together since I was a junior in college; we lived in a roach-infested $430 a month shit hole apartment for the first few years. He worked, I worked, and we scraped by. We had an apartment filled with free furniture. We splurged on a VCR after we had lived together for a few months, and that was a well calculated expenditure (we did have cable TV though, because that is a necessity). I graduated from college with minimal student loans outstanding. We moved to a nicer apartment, but kept our free furniture, and began to invest. Eventually we bought our first house, and lived there for a good 6 months before we had any furniture in our main floor living room. Every big purchase was still heavily weighed before buying, despite the fact that we could now afford to buy nice things. We are now in our second house, and still have no bedroom set. I use the dresser that was my Dad’s at one point in time; the legs have broken off in one of the many moves, so it sits right on the floor in all of its ugliness. DH’s parents bought new bedroom furniture at some point so The Girl got DH’s old dresser (his from childhood) and he switched to his Dad’s cast off. The Boy somehow managed an IKEA dresser, and a Target bookcase, but he uses my old bed and mattress from childhood. Do you sense a theme here?
We were watching HGTV the other day (well every day, but the conversation the other day is what I am thinking about) and were relaying the conversation that would happen when the designers entered our bedroom.
THEM: you make how much money and you seriously are using this bedroom furniture?
US: Um, yeah, someday we will buy new bedroom furniture, but this stuff works so we aren’t in a big hurry.
THEM: Have you looked at your bedroom?
US: Yes, but it is just our bedroom so what difference does it make?
THEM: Lots of eye rolling, Did you guys paint this leaf stencil pattern on the walls?
US: No, it was here when we moved in, we will repaint it someday
THEM: How long have you lived here?
US: almost 2 years
THEM: Leaving in disgust
The conversation could repeat about almost any room in our house. This is why we have decided to hire a decorator to help us with our big house remodel project. We are afraid it will finish, we will move our current LR set over a bit and just move on. I guess this is what happens when two very practical engineer types get married and have kids.
Yes, we are lucky and we are uninspired, but if our lack of motivation to spend loads of money on furniture and decorating is our only problem I guess we aren’t so bad off. Life is pretty good here, even if our style looks like something that was found for free after the college kids moved out of their dorms in the spring. Scratch that, the college kids today probably all have new looking IKEA furniture, which while cheap, is probably an improvement over our stuff! You know your furniture is bad when underemployed relatives refuse your cast offs. Oh well, at least we are happy, and we don’t worry so much about the kids ruining our things.
There are many other good things in my life, we have wonderful families who love us, and care about us. We have a nice home, we aren’t in debt, and we have good jobs. We have a good chunk of money already set aside for retirement, and are able to add to it each and every month. I know many people who really do live paycheck to paycheck and struggle to make ends meet. Again, we are lucky we don’t have that added stress. It almost makes me feel a little guilty when a friend complains about not being able to buy any extras, or worse can’t even meet their current expenses.
I believe that luck, a good dose of common sense, and a good upbringing helped us to get to this position, oh and cheapness. DH and I have lived together since I was a junior in college; we lived in a roach-infested $430 a month shit hole apartment for the first few years. He worked, I worked, and we scraped by. We had an apartment filled with free furniture. We splurged on a VCR after we had lived together for a few months, and that was a well calculated expenditure (we did have cable TV though, because that is a necessity). I graduated from college with minimal student loans outstanding. We moved to a nicer apartment, but kept our free furniture, and began to invest. Eventually we bought our first house, and lived there for a good 6 months before we had any furniture in our main floor living room. Every big purchase was still heavily weighed before buying, despite the fact that we could now afford to buy nice things. We are now in our second house, and still have no bedroom set. I use the dresser that was my Dad’s at one point in time; the legs have broken off in one of the many moves, so it sits right on the floor in all of its ugliness. DH’s parents bought new bedroom furniture at some point so The Girl got DH’s old dresser (his from childhood) and he switched to his Dad’s cast off. The Boy somehow managed an IKEA dresser, and a Target bookcase, but he uses my old bed and mattress from childhood. Do you sense a theme here?
We were watching HGTV the other day (well every day, but the conversation the other day is what I am thinking about) and were relaying the conversation that would happen when the designers entered our bedroom.
THEM: you make how much money and you seriously are using this bedroom furniture?
US: Um, yeah, someday we will buy new bedroom furniture, but this stuff works so we aren’t in a big hurry.
THEM: Have you looked at your bedroom?
US: Yes, but it is just our bedroom so what difference does it make?
THEM: Lots of eye rolling, Did you guys paint this leaf stencil pattern on the walls?
US: No, it was here when we moved in, we will repaint it someday
THEM: How long have you lived here?
US: almost 2 years
THEM: Leaving in disgust
The conversation could repeat about almost any room in our house. This is why we have decided to hire a decorator to help us with our big house remodel project. We are afraid it will finish, we will move our current LR set over a bit and just move on. I guess this is what happens when two very practical engineer types get married and have kids.
Yes, we are lucky and we are uninspired, but if our lack of motivation to spend loads of money on furniture and decorating is our only problem I guess we aren’t so bad off. Life is pretty good here, even if our style looks like something that was found for free after the college kids moved out of their dorms in the spring. Scratch that, the college kids today probably all have new looking IKEA furniture, which while cheap, is probably an improvement over our stuff! You know your furniture is bad when underemployed relatives refuse your cast offs. Oh well, at least we are happy, and we don’t worry so much about the kids ruining our things.
12.21.2006
Horrified
Last night as I was watching The Daily Show, there was a commercial for a new Christmas based horror flick. I had to shut my eyes and plug my ears until it was over. This is not a new thing for me of course, but I’m trying to decide if I am the only thirty-something alive who is unable to watch horror or heavily suspenseful movies. It is not even that I don’t like them; I really and truly can’t watch them. I have deviated from this rule a few times, and have always paid a hefty price for it. I still remember watching Night of the Living Dead in all of its black and white cheesiness, making fun of it all through the movie, only to have two solid weeks of nightmares about the zombies coming to get me. I would lay awake at night and be totally sure that some non-mortal being would grab me, no matter how much I assured myself that this couldn’t be the case. I managed to avoid the teenaged viewings of Friday the 13th movies, and the Nightmare on Elm Street flicks, but did get sucked into Halloween. Halloween was terrifying and probably caused me a month or more of nightmares and uneasy bedtimes. My friends assured me that I was just overreacting, and none of them had similar problems dealing with the scary and gory movies. I assume I am just a freak of nature unable to get past seeing something on television and thinking about its implications in my life.
It seems some people are less bothered by the “slasher” type films because they are so graphic and violent that they couldn’t possibly happen in real life, but I cannot. However, suspenseful films that are more closely tied to reality do have a greater impact on my ability to sleep at night. The movie Seven for instance, will forever be burned in my memory, and I curse the day I relented and agreed to watch it with my now DH. That movie disturbed me so much that I can’t even discuss scenes from it without having disturbed sleep, despite the fact that it has been many years since I saw it. Sometimes the images you don’t see on the screen do haunt you far more than the ones you do see. There have been other movies in that vein, and I don’t allow myself to watch them. I know it frustrates my DH that we are so limited in our selection of movies we can watch together because of my unreasonable fears. He has taken to DVRing movies like that and just watching them when I am not around.
My fear is so great that it now extends to regular network television programs. I cannot watch shows like Criminal Intent, or even some episodes of CSI when there is “disturbing” content, even Medium gets to me. These are all shows that DH likes to watch, so he DVRs them and watches them when I am occupied with other things. Of course commercials advertising movies and even television shows also get to me. I really wonder if this is a problem for me. Is it weird that I cannot shut my brain off at night? I know rationally that I am not in danger, but my mind keeps spinning these crazy scenarios anyway. I wouldn’t say that these fears rule my life to any extent. I don’t alter plans or deviate my routines because I really fear being slashed with a machete when I walk out the door, but as I’m trying to sleep I get caught in this loop that tortures me. Perhaps I just need some Ambien, or maybe I just need to keep watching happy movies and choosing things like Cheaper by the Dozen 2 even if it is predictable and lame…at least I know I won’t lie awake at night thinking about Steve Martin’s family of 12 coming to get me (though it might make me double check my birth control method!).
Still what is up with a Christmas slasher movie? What does that say about our world?
It seems some people are less bothered by the “slasher” type films because they are so graphic and violent that they couldn’t possibly happen in real life, but I cannot. However, suspenseful films that are more closely tied to reality do have a greater impact on my ability to sleep at night. The movie Seven for instance, will forever be burned in my memory, and I curse the day I relented and agreed to watch it with my now DH. That movie disturbed me so much that I can’t even discuss scenes from it without having disturbed sleep, despite the fact that it has been many years since I saw it. Sometimes the images you don’t see on the screen do haunt you far more than the ones you do see. There have been other movies in that vein, and I don’t allow myself to watch them. I know it frustrates my DH that we are so limited in our selection of movies we can watch together because of my unreasonable fears. He has taken to DVRing movies like that and just watching them when I am not around.
My fear is so great that it now extends to regular network television programs. I cannot watch shows like Criminal Intent, or even some episodes of CSI when there is “disturbing” content, even Medium gets to me. These are all shows that DH likes to watch, so he DVRs them and watches them when I am occupied with other things. Of course commercials advertising movies and even television shows also get to me. I really wonder if this is a problem for me. Is it weird that I cannot shut my brain off at night? I know rationally that I am not in danger, but my mind keeps spinning these crazy scenarios anyway. I wouldn’t say that these fears rule my life to any extent. I don’t alter plans or deviate my routines because I really fear being slashed with a machete when I walk out the door, but as I’m trying to sleep I get caught in this loop that tortures me. Perhaps I just need some Ambien, or maybe I just need to keep watching happy movies and choosing things like Cheaper by the Dozen 2 even if it is predictable and lame…at least I know I won’t lie awake at night thinking about Steve Martin’s family of 12 coming to get me (though it might make me double check my birth control method!).
Still what is up with a Christmas slasher movie? What does that say about our world?
12.15.2006
Global warming much?
Picture this, woman gets home from work, changes into running clothes (a light long-sleeved cool max shirt and a single layer of running tights), and goes for a run outside. So you are thinking, what is the big deal about that, people do that every day, why in the hell are you wasting my time with it on your blog? The big deal is that it was December 14th, and I ran outside with only one thin layer of clothing on my body. Not only did I only have one layer of clothing on, but maybe 2 miles into my run I felt too warm and wished I had worn shorts instead. It was December 14th, seriously, in the Frozen Tundra it is not supposed to be warm enough to even consider running outside in shorts in December. That is why I own a treadmill. I don’t like to run in the cold, I don’t like to have to don 3 layers of clothing just to freeze my ass off while running. I much prefer outdoor running to treadmill running, but being the weather wimp that I am I always opt for shorts and a sports bra in the climate controlled house over icicles forming on your neck gaiter because your warm breath condenses in it when you breathe and then freezes.
I know there are die hard runners out there; it seems that one of my neighbors is of that variety, but as far as I’m concerned they are crazy. I am not one of them. I used to run outside more often through the entire winter, at least doing my long runs outside to break up the monotony of all of that treadmill running. I find it difficult to motivate myself to run much more than an hour at a shot on the treadmill, so I would take my longer runs outside and just grit my way through it. Now I’ve decided that if I just don’t sign up for a long distance race that will be run before April or May I can just skip all of those longer runs until it is warmer. I can fit in a 7 miler in an hour or so on the TM, and I figure that is good enough to get me through the cold months in decent condition.
As I was running my 4 miles last night, I couldn’t help but ponder why it is that we have no snow on the ground in mid-December, why it was almost 50 degrees when it shouldn’t be much above 32 F. I started really thinking about the Al Gore documentary, An Inconvenient Truth, that I’ve been hearing about. I haven’t watched it, nor was it high on my list of things to buy for Christmas gifts, but I know I want to watch it eventually. I caught part of Al Gore on Oprah a few weeks back, and even the brief views of the documentary had a tremendous impact. It is easy to say that one day of above average temps doesn’t indicate anything in regards to global warming, but the fact is that we’ve had pitiful snow fall for several years now, hotter summers, and warmer winters. It makes me want to buy a hybrid car, but honestly I don’t feel all that motivated to do much more. It feels like such a big problem, and I guess that makes me feel helpless to solve things all on my own. Is it really terrible for me to say that I don’t mind the warmer weather? It is just too bad that there are so many nasty consequences that come along for the ride.
I know there are die hard runners out there; it seems that one of my neighbors is of that variety, but as far as I’m concerned they are crazy. I am not one of them. I used to run outside more often through the entire winter, at least doing my long runs outside to break up the monotony of all of that treadmill running. I find it difficult to motivate myself to run much more than an hour at a shot on the treadmill, so I would take my longer runs outside and just grit my way through it. Now I’ve decided that if I just don’t sign up for a long distance race that will be run before April or May I can just skip all of those longer runs until it is warmer. I can fit in a 7 miler in an hour or so on the TM, and I figure that is good enough to get me through the cold months in decent condition.
As I was running my 4 miles last night, I couldn’t help but ponder why it is that we have no snow on the ground in mid-December, why it was almost 50 degrees when it shouldn’t be much above 32 F. I started really thinking about the Al Gore documentary, An Inconvenient Truth, that I’ve been hearing about. I haven’t watched it, nor was it high on my list of things to buy for Christmas gifts, but I know I want to watch it eventually. I caught part of Al Gore on Oprah a few weeks back, and even the brief views of the documentary had a tremendous impact. It is easy to say that one day of above average temps doesn’t indicate anything in regards to global warming, but the fact is that we’ve had pitiful snow fall for several years now, hotter summers, and warmer winters. It makes me want to buy a hybrid car, but honestly I don’t feel all that motivated to do much more. It feels like such a big problem, and I guess that makes me feel helpless to solve things all on my own. Is it really terrible for me to say that I don’t mind the warmer weather? It is just too bad that there are so many nasty consequences that come along for the ride.
12.14.2006
Just when you think you know
I know I am tempting fate by posting this, but I feel I owe my readers an update on The Girl’s difficult bedtime rituals. For the past maybe 5 nights The Girl has been remarkably easy to get to sleep. She has been so easy to get to sleep that both last night and the night before we were able to simply plop her in her crib, give her a kiss, turn on the Fisher Price aquarium, and walk away. She simply went to sleep on her own. It is amazing to me. Just when you think you are doomed for a life filled with an hour of sitting in a dark nursery and quietly creeping out of the room, something changes. It is just too bad that I have no idea what changed. Our nighttime routines haven’t altered too much, nor have we all of a sudden become horribly consistent. Maybe she just sensed that I was a little fed up with her high maintenance needs (DH does so much better with this…even at her worst he just shrugs and says oh well as he sits in her room for hours). Maybe she is just starting to realize just how nice it is to sleep (I highly doubt that), or maybe the planets are aligned just right and it will all go back to shit tonight. At least I can take comfort in the fact that I got to sit and read a book for a solid hour last night, who really knows what The Girl has in store for me tonight.
Finished!
I don’t know how it is possible, but I have finished my Christmas shopping and it is only December 14th. DH and I scribbled out a rough list of the people we needed to buy for a few weeks back, and I then converted it into Excel format listing out recipient, giver, ideas, budget, store location, and whether or not it had been purchased. Today I was updating the list and found that the only gifts left to buy are the ones for myself (which naturally fall to my DH to purchase), oh and a gift from the children to DH. I’m not saying that I am completely done with all gift related tasks, as there are still 3 packages that need to be shipped off relatively soon (two are waiting for online purchases to arrive before they can be sent on to their final destinations). My Christmas cards haven’t been sent out either, since we are still waiting for the photo cards to arrive from the photographer. Still, I can’t help but feel proud and relieved to have the bulk of the stress behind me. Perhaps my decision to just plod ahead rather than agonizing over every purchase was a wise one. That and my impulse trip into Sephora where I found gifts for most of the “hard to buy for” women on my list, everyone likes lip gloss right?
Now I guess I have to focus on some menu planning since we are hosting Christmas dinner again this year. Any good ideas for things to pair with roast beef? We are tired of ham and turkey…
Now I guess I have to focus on some menu planning since we are hosting Christmas dinner again this year. Any good ideas for things to pair with roast beef? We are tired of ham and turkey…
12.09.2006
Entertainment
I don't think I have posted a picture of my kids here before, but in order to get the gist of what I am talking about you need to watch this video. Yes, that is The Girl dancing happily and enjoying some Christmas music, only to have The Boy come and steal the doll she was holding which made her cry. This type of activity happens often in our house, one child happily playing with something only to have the other steal a toy or otherwise interrupt the play so that they in turn become the center of attention. Sometimes it is entertaining for me, other times it is exhausting, but mostly I've been looking at things from my parents' perspective. I vividly remember playing similar games with my brother when we were young, and it is only now that I can see why my parents reacted the way that they did. Ah, this must be where the "I hope you have children just like you when you grow up" phrase comes from!
Typical scene from my childhood: My brother and I minding our own business, I decide to approach him only to have him tell me to get away from him. I continue prodding him until he says something to the effect of "if you touch/talk to/breathe on me one more time I will pound you to the ground." Of course I could never resist and always pushed that button that was just dangling in front of my eyes, and then got beat up. I did my best girly fight moves, biting, kicking, pinching, and scratching and probably held my own for a while but ended up on the losing end most times. I would then go crying to my parents for help, only to be met with "what did you do to make him hit you?" Not only was I hurt, but I had no sympathetic ears to cry to. Life seemed very unfair to me then.
Now, as I watch The Girl purposely take The Boy's beloved Cars figures away from him, only to run away and giggle and wait for him to chase her I finally get it. The fight was my entertainment as pathetic as it was, and The Girl is getting hers that way too. Hopefully physical violence doesn't ensue in my house in the near future, but I guess I just see it as inevitable at some point. The Boy takes toys away to make The Girl cry too, he knows it is a sure fire way to engage her negatively or not...it also garners attention from the parents.
I would like to find better ways of dealing with this stuff then just blaming the instigator and letting things unfold, but I'm wondering if that is even feasible. I have a feeling that The Girl will just get scrappier and scrappier as the years roll on, and The Boy will refine his methods of retaliation. Amazing how different it is when you are in the driver's seat, and still don't think you can control the train wreck. I just want to take this moment to say, Mom (and Dad) I'm sorry for adding to your grey hair counts.
Typical scene from my childhood: My brother and I minding our own business, I decide to approach him only to have him tell me to get away from him. I continue prodding him until he says something to the effect of "if you touch/talk to/breathe on me one more time I will pound you to the ground." Of course I could never resist and always pushed that button that was just dangling in front of my eyes, and then got beat up. I did my best girly fight moves, biting, kicking, pinching, and scratching and probably held my own for a while but ended up on the losing end most times. I would then go crying to my parents for help, only to be met with "what did you do to make him hit you?" Not only was I hurt, but I had no sympathetic ears to cry to. Life seemed very unfair to me then.
Now, as I watch The Girl purposely take The Boy's beloved Cars figures away from him, only to run away and giggle and wait for him to chase her I finally get it. The fight was my entertainment as pathetic as it was, and The Girl is getting hers that way too. Hopefully physical violence doesn't ensue in my house in the near future, but I guess I just see it as inevitable at some point. The Boy takes toys away to make The Girl cry too, he knows it is a sure fire way to engage her negatively or not...it also garners attention from the parents.
I would like to find better ways of dealing with this stuff then just blaming the instigator and letting things unfold, but I'm wondering if that is even feasible. I have a feeling that The Girl will just get scrappier and scrappier as the years roll on, and The Boy will refine his methods of retaliation. Amazing how different it is when you are in the driver's seat, and still don't think you can control the train wreck. I just want to take this moment to say, Mom (and Dad) I'm sorry for adding to your grey hair counts.
12.05.2006
The snake ate the baby Jesus
We put our Christmas decorations up on Sunday. The Boy has been having a blast playing with all of the “new toys.” He has little conversations between the snowmen, has them take rides in his cars and trucks, and just generally enjoys himself. Last night I sorted through the last unpacked box of decorations and found our pathetic little nativity set (no offense Mom, I know you gave it to us, but the figures do look a little scary…baby Jesus looks like baby Damien and frankly that disturbs me a bit). I wouldn’t have even put it out, but I knew The Boy would enjoy playing with the figures especially since it included a baby (the baby Jesus of course). The Boy started asking questions about the set, and DH was happy to oblige. I expected different answers from DH, since he isn’t the friendliest person about religion, but he did well and fed The Boy the “right” answers about each figurine. The Boy started acting out scenes with the figures, starting with “the fairy” flying in to help the people. DH corrected him, that it was in fact an angel and not a fairy, but The Boy said “no, it is a fairy” in the way he does when he knows we are obviously WRONG and he is RIGHT. As in, you are crazy Dad, I know this is a fairy, why on earth would you think it was an angel, just look at the wings Dad?! Our lack of religious exposure for our kids is really showing through isn’t it?
A little later in the evening, The Boy was occupying himself and we hear him say “The snake just ate the baby Jesus.” Sure enough he was playing with his dollar store wooden snake and had made it eat baby Jesus. He saw that we laughed at this, so the snake slithered over to us and The Boy said “The baby Jesus is in the snake’s tummy now.” We of course thought this was hilarious and burst into laughter. Forget about the fact that we are failing to expose our child to Christianity for a moment because this is just plain funny! I can’t recall exactly how we responded to The Boy, but I think we just let him move on. I’m sure tomorrow the snake will end up eating “the fairy,” or perhaps “the director” (he seems to be calling the kings director, or maybe he is saying conductor). I meant to take a picture of the snake curled up inside of the nativity box, but I missed the opportunity. I’m sure The Boy will come up with something equally cute before this holiday season is over.
A little later in the evening, The Boy was occupying himself and we hear him say “The snake just ate the baby Jesus.” Sure enough he was playing with his dollar store wooden snake and had made it eat baby Jesus. He saw that we laughed at this, so the snake slithered over to us and The Boy said “The baby Jesus is in the snake’s tummy now.” We of course thought this was hilarious and burst into laughter. Forget about the fact that we are failing to expose our child to Christianity for a moment because this is just plain funny! I can’t recall exactly how we responded to The Boy, but I think we just let him move on. I’m sure tomorrow the snake will end up eating “the fairy,” or perhaps “the director” (he seems to be calling the kings director, or maybe he is saying conductor). I meant to take a picture of the snake curled up inside of the nativity box, but I missed the opportunity. I’m sure The Boy will come up with something equally cute before this holiday season is over.
Do not go gentle into that good night
When either DH or I are putting The Girl to bed at night I am often reminded of a poem I first read in 10th grade. It is entitled “Do not go gentle into that good night,” by Dylan Thomas. The poem itself is about death, but the last lines seem to apply to my dear girl as she fights her evening slumber: “Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light.” This is most definitely what she is doing. She knows she is tired, but yet has to fight it off with every ounce of her being before relenting and drifting off to sleep. If only she knew how much fun we will have waking her up at 9 am on a Saturday morning when she is a teenager, just because we can! Okay, maybe we won’t be so cruel, but these long evenings of sitting beside her crib and waiting until she is done playing with her wonderful Fisher Price aquarium are getting to be a drag. Sometimes it takes her less than 20 minutes to fall asleep, but on a bad night it can take 1.5 hours. I realize we are weak parents, and our little girl has us wrapped around her little finger, but I am simply not strong enough to let her cry it out. She wails so miserably and loudly, and sounds so pathetic that inevitably one of us will break down and “rescue” her.
For now we sit and listen and wait for our little girl to rage against the dying of the light, just long enough for her to feel good about going gently into that good night.
For now we sit and listen and wait for our little girl to rage against the dying of the light, just long enough for her to feel good about going gently into that good night.
11.28.2006
The month long cold
If you know me from another online environment, or in the world of actual human contact you know that I am sick. I have been suffering with a cold for the past almost 4 weeks now. I had a few days where I thought I was recovered, only to have the cough return with a vengence. My last post referred to some pain under my left rib cage, which after a little more googling I decided was due to the intense coughing I have been doing for weeks. It makes sense, because I have really been miserable which almost everyone I come in contact with can attest to. I'm sure the passengers I fly next to are oh so grateful that I am adding to the toxic sludge air that is the inside cabin of the airplane, but what can I do?
Monday morning I decided to go to the doctor to see if I could get a real cough medicine perscription, and had secret hopes that the doctor would tell me that I couldn't fly with my current illness. Sadly, I left the office with zero of the things I'd hoped for. I should be thankful that I am healthy despite the presence of an ear infection (seriously other than some strange ear popping that is hard to resolve and makes me nearly deaf in that ear I had no idea). I know the general advice is not to let little kids fly with ear infections because it can be excrutiating, but the doctor I saw passed that off as a non-issue for me. Ugh. She did say I could use it as excuse to stay home if I wanted to, but in my book that is basically like calling into work when you aren't really sick (although in this case I suppose I am sick). If I didn't have to use my "vacation" time to stay home sick I might have considered staying home. So yes, you guessed it I am typing away in my hotel room right now. I'm now taking a cocktail of Amoxicillin, Mucinex DM, and Advil all at varying intervals to handle my symptoms. It is a good thing I got a flu shot this year because if I were to get the flu on top of this I think I would be screwed.
Monday morning I decided to go to the doctor to see if I could get a real cough medicine perscription, and had secret hopes that the doctor would tell me that I couldn't fly with my current illness. Sadly, I left the office with zero of the things I'd hoped for. I should be thankful that I am healthy despite the presence of an ear infection (seriously other than some strange ear popping that is hard to resolve and makes me nearly deaf in that ear I had no idea). I know the general advice is not to let little kids fly with ear infections because it can be excrutiating, but the doctor I saw passed that off as a non-issue for me. Ugh. She did say I could use it as excuse to stay home if I wanted to, but in my book that is basically like calling into work when you aren't really sick (although in this case I suppose I am sick). If I didn't have to use my "vacation" time to stay home sick I might have considered staying home. So yes, you guessed it I am typing away in my hotel room right now. I'm now taking a cocktail of Amoxicillin, Mucinex DM, and Advil all at varying intervals to handle my symptoms. It is a good thing I got a flu shot this year because if I were to get the flu on top of this I think I would be screwed.
11.22.2006
Irrational fears
Do you ever have a minor health concern that ends up blowing up in your mind and becoming your focus for days? I do, obviously or why would I be blogging about it right? My recent concern began sometime this past Sunday. At some point I noticed that it felt like I had sore muscles in the area under my left rib cage. Of course I hadn’t done anything that could have caused sore muscles recently so it struck me as odd. I didn’t think much of it, started telling myself that it could be a side effect of the flu shot I’d received just a few days prior (however unlikely that may be). At some point yesterday while still feeling the sore muscle feeling I started to let the floodgates open in my mind, and of course headed straight for Dr. Google. Thankfully, nothing of interest popped up in my web sleuthing, but I did start staring at a calendar to see when my last AF had occurred. I don’t keep track really because AF with my handy dandy Mirena IUD isn’t much more than spotting. I have no need to worry about pregnancy since Mirena is more effective than female sterilization, so what difference does it really make? I did recall having AF-like spotting on a business trip, but I’d had many in these past few months so it was a little tricky to pinpoint which one. When I’d finally isolated the likely trip I realized it had been 5 weeks or so since her last visit. Just try Googling IUD AND pregnancy and you will see what kind of horrid thoughts started creeping into my head.
When I let myself go to that place it is very hard to talk myself down. I start coming up with “symptoms” which support whatever I have self diagnosed myself as having. After having a few semi panic attacks involving being rushed to the emergency room because of a burst fallopian tube due to an ectopic pregnancy, I rushed to Walgreens at lunch, went home and peed on a stick. Negative, pheew! I called DH to tell him that I wasn’t in fact pregnant, and he said “that’s nice Hun.” I’m starting to think that the IUD may not be the best birth control choice for me, while I love that it involves no effort on my part, it is hard to trust that it works as it is advertised. I am an IUD baby after all (yes when your Mom who had polio as a baby and therefore has paralyzed legs gets pregnant with you when your older brother is just 6 months old you know you weren’t planned!), and those thoughts creep into my head a little too often for my tastes. Of course I don’t want to go back on the pill, and this not having AF business is really nice (if you get past the irrational pregnancy thoughts that creep in occasionally), and I’m not ready to risk a third baby so there it is. I guess I do nothing and live with the freak outs. One pee on a stick episode in the 17 months I’ve had the IUD isn’t so bad is it?
When I let myself go to that place it is very hard to talk myself down. I start coming up with “symptoms” which support whatever I have self diagnosed myself as having. After having a few semi panic attacks involving being rushed to the emergency room because of a burst fallopian tube due to an ectopic pregnancy, I rushed to Walgreens at lunch, went home and peed on a stick. Negative, pheew! I called DH to tell him that I wasn’t in fact pregnant, and he said “that’s nice Hun.” I’m starting to think that the IUD may not be the best birth control choice for me, while I love that it involves no effort on my part, it is hard to trust that it works as it is advertised. I am an IUD baby after all (yes when your Mom who had polio as a baby and therefore has paralyzed legs gets pregnant with you when your older brother is just 6 months old you know you weren’t planned!), and those thoughts creep into my head a little too often for my tastes. Of course I don’t want to go back on the pill, and this not having AF business is really nice (if you get past the irrational pregnancy thoughts that creep in occasionally), and I’m not ready to risk a third baby so there it is. I guess I do nothing and live with the freak outs. One pee on a stick episode in the 17 months I’ve had the IUD isn’t so bad is it?
11.11.2006
Home at last
I thought I owed my blog a post from home, a truely rare occurance. Yesterday was fabulous, we wrapped up work at the client site ultra early which allowed us an ultra early flight back home. I managed to be at daycare just as The Boy woke up from his nap. He practically leaped up into my arms, and we just cuddled for a few minutes until we heard The Girl shouting from the other room. We made our way home, DH called to say he was going out for a drink and we shouldn't wait for him with dinner so we didn't. We watched Disney's Cars and played with all of The Boy's car paraphanalia at the same time. I made a wonderful dinner of corn dogs, oven fries, and baked beans. DH came home, I gave the kids baths, put The Boy to bed, and then sat in The Girl's room for approximately 1.5 hours trying to get her to fall asleep before giving up and making DH do it. I suck. He does it for 3 nights straight and I can't even handle one night. Oh well.
11.09.2006
Slim Fast and Beef Jerky
I don’t like to eat out alone.
There I’ve said it. I feel self conscious when I sit in a restaurant all by myself. It doesn’t feel normal for me to just sit quietly while I wait for my food. When I do decide to eat out alone (while traveling) I make sure to bring a book with me so I don’t feel so lost. Tonight I was faced with the prospect of walking from my hotel to a nearby restaurant solo, or driving to a take-out type place to bring some food back to the hotel. I ended up opting for the take out. My excuse was that I needed some cough drops to cope with the horrible cough I am stuck with from my most recent nasty cold, but eating in my hotel room just seemed more appealing. I also opted for take out last night, so I have now had Qdoba and Quiznos as my fine dining experiences for the week. I decided I needed more Q’s in my diet. I am not really complaining, I get a daily per diem, so I am much better off financially if I do eat take-out since I don’t have to tip and the food is just generally cheaper. However, it makes for some long lonely evenings sitting in my hotel room.
I have been in this pattern for the last few trips, which seem to have occurred every other week through this fall. I am not even traveling alone, one of my colleagues has been accompanying me on all of these trips. He brings his own food with him from home though, and just eats alone in his hotel room (I presume). He is really making out with the per diem. I’m not sure what food he brings from home, for a while there was talk of Slim Fast shakes and beef jerky, which frankly makes my stomach turn. Is this how you would choose to eat if you were traveling for work? I didn’t think so. Perhaps he needs the extra “income.” Whenever there is talk about extending trips he seems willing, whereas I come up with many reasons why it can’t work with my schedule. Of course this could just be my lack of a work ethic, or more truthfully my extreme dislike of business travel in general and my desire to be home with my children and husband when at all possible.
Even though my kids can make dinner stressful, eating dinner with them every night is one of the highlights of every day. Sitting in my hotel room eating alone is peaceful, but it doesn’t even come close to comparing to a dinner at home (even a dinner I had to cook). I can hear The Boy saying “How was your day?” and “my day was good” as I type. Those two phrases which he now commonly utters make all of the “I don’t like this” and “there is sauce on my noodles” stuff fade away in the background…for the most part. I bet my DH doesn’t have the same perspective I do since he is the one having to make the kids Dinosaur chicken nuggets tonight.
Another night on the road...
There I’ve said it. I feel self conscious when I sit in a restaurant all by myself. It doesn’t feel normal for me to just sit quietly while I wait for my food. When I do decide to eat out alone (while traveling) I make sure to bring a book with me so I don’t feel so lost. Tonight I was faced with the prospect of walking from my hotel to a nearby restaurant solo, or driving to a take-out type place to bring some food back to the hotel. I ended up opting for the take out. My excuse was that I needed some cough drops to cope with the horrible cough I am stuck with from my most recent nasty cold, but eating in my hotel room just seemed more appealing. I also opted for take out last night, so I have now had Qdoba and Quiznos as my fine dining experiences for the week. I decided I needed more Q’s in my diet. I am not really complaining, I get a daily per diem, so I am much better off financially if I do eat take-out since I don’t have to tip and the food is just generally cheaper. However, it makes for some long lonely evenings sitting in my hotel room.
I have been in this pattern for the last few trips, which seem to have occurred every other week through this fall. I am not even traveling alone, one of my colleagues has been accompanying me on all of these trips. He brings his own food with him from home though, and just eats alone in his hotel room (I presume). He is really making out with the per diem. I’m not sure what food he brings from home, for a while there was talk of Slim Fast shakes and beef jerky, which frankly makes my stomach turn. Is this how you would choose to eat if you were traveling for work? I didn’t think so. Perhaps he needs the extra “income.” Whenever there is talk about extending trips he seems willing, whereas I come up with many reasons why it can’t work with my schedule. Of course this could just be my lack of a work ethic, or more truthfully my extreme dislike of business travel in general and my desire to be home with my children and husband when at all possible.
Even though my kids can make dinner stressful, eating dinner with them every night is one of the highlights of every day. Sitting in my hotel room eating alone is peaceful, but it doesn’t even come close to comparing to a dinner at home (even a dinner I had to cook). I can hear The Boy saying “How was your day?” and “my day was good” as I type. Those two phrases which he now commonly utters make all of the “I don’t like this” and “there is sauce on my noodles” stuff fade away in the background…for the most part. I bet my DH doesn’t have the same perspective I do since he is the one having to make the kids Dinosaur chicken nuggets tonight.
Another night on the road...
11.01.2006
Business Travel Mom
A good friend of mine passed along a link to this article about Moms who travel for business. At first I was eager to read it because I am very interested to see how other traveling Moms cope. However, the spin of the article seems to be that by and large these Moms like being away because it gives them a break from the day-to-day grind of being a working Mom. I am in no way judging the Moms who say that, because I’d be lying if I said it isn’t somewhat relaxing to come back to an empty hotel room and have an entire evening to yourself. The problem comes in when you are gone for 3-5 nights at a time. Unlike one of the Moms quoted in the article, my DH does not have a flexible work schedule that allows him to accompany me on business trips so the kids can come along. Nor do I have a nanny that could do the same. I’m actually curious to know if the Moms who bring their kids with them while traveling expense (to their employers) the cost of bringing children with, or just eat the expense. The 3 extra plane tickets, not to mention meals while traveling would eat a big hole in our budget. I also feel that DH and the kids would be horribly bored in the towns I end up traveling to. Most of the towns are very small; they are towns where big companies like to locate because labor costs are lower. They are not towns you would immediately recognize the names of. While I would love to finish a day of working and come back to my kids, I don’t think it is fair to expect my family to uproot just to relieve some of my guilt for needing to travel to do my job.
I guess the women in the article are more cheerful than I am. It seems that they are all looking at the bright side of business travel, while I tend to focus on the rest of the crap that comes along for the ride. Maybe I should use my business trips to get facials, manicures, and pedicures. Perhaps that would be more fun than organizing all of our digital photos as I sit in a hotel room. I tend to feel like I need to be somewhat of a martyr when I travel for business though. It is as if I am not allowed to be happy when I am away from my kids, simply because I should be home with them instead. This idea comes only from me, but it definitely is what I do. I think I still need to watch how much “fun” I communicate to those left back home, I really don’t think that they would appreciate me being happy to be away.
I think I’ve figured out why traveling Moms are in the minority, it is because our partners are not too keen on being the parent who is home alone for days on end. My DH is fantastic about my travel, nicer about it then I would be if our roles were reversed. I do know that it becomes draining even for him when I am gone for more than 2 nights though. Two high maintenance children keep you busy, and you get very little downtime until after they go to bed. When I offered to cut my last business trip short because of The Girl’s bout of croup, he immediately accepted my offer. There was some talk about being able to handle it, but I knew he didn’t want to have to deal with it alone. I also felt it was unfair for him to have to miss two days of work, just because my work had me out of town. I did come home a day early, and I don’t think there was any detrimental harm done to the project as a result. The Girl really did need her Mommy, and frankly I was irritated to not be the one caring for her. Some things, no matter how anti-feminist it makes me sound, just belong to me, and one of those is caring for sick children. Unless of course there is barf involved, that is a job that my DH can keep.
I guess the women in the article are more cheerful than I am. It seems that they are all looking at the bright side of business travel, while I tend to focus on the rest of the crap that comes along for the ride. Maybe I should use my business trips to get facials, manicures, and pedicures. Perhaps that would be more fun than organizing all of our digital photos as I sit in a hotel room. I tend to feel like I need to be somewhat of a martyr when I travel for business though. It is as if I am not allowed to be happy when I am away from my kids, simply because I should be home with them instead. This idea comes only from me, but it definitely is what I do. I think I still need to watch how much “fun” I communicate to those left back home, I really don’t think that they would appreciate me being happy to be away.
I think I’ve figured out why traveling Moms are in the minority, it is because our partners are not too keen on being the parent who is home alone for days on end. My DH is fantastic about my travel, nicer about it then I would be if our roles were reversed. I do know that it becomes draining even for him when I am gone for more than 2 nights though. Two high maintenance children keep you busy, and you get very little downtime until after they go to bed. When I offered to cut my last business trip short because of The Girl’s bout of croup, he immediately accepted my offer. There was some talk about being able to handle it, but I knew he didn’t want to have to deal with it alone. I also felt it was unfair for him to have to miss two days of work, just because my work had me out of town. I did come home a day early, and I don’t think there was any detrimental harm done to the project as a result. The Girl really did need her Mommy, and frankly I was irritated to not be the one caring for her. Some things, no matter how anti-feminist it makes me sound, just belong to me, and one of those is caring for sick children. Unless of course there is barf involved, that is a job that my DH can keep.
10.31.2006
Yoga Pants
I have become a fashion “don’t.” I’m not sure when it happened, and I don’t think I can pinpoint an exact date of my fashion demise even if I wanted to. I do suspect that the slide started happening shortly before my first child was born. I vaguely remember wearing the same pair of sweatpants through my entire pregnancy with The Boy. Coupled with a fancy red hooded sweatshirt that at one point in time belonged to my DH, I was a vision indeed. I remember DH trying to take pictures of me when I was pregnant, and I would always tell him not to because I was wearing my “grubby clothes.” He came back at one point with “you are always wearing your grubby clothes.” He was right of course, but I don’t think I had quite realized it yet. Of course I wore work appropriate maternity clothes during the day, but when I got home I immediately changed into those lovely gray sweats, a t-shirt of some sort, and that fancy red sweatshirt. Comfort was what was required after wearing horrible maternity pants all day long, pants that were either too tight or too big, but never just right. Maternity jeans that slowly rode down throughout the day, forcing me to pull them up any time I got up from standing, lest I have the crotch of my pants around my knees. Maternity pants that started out as “these pants are so big they will certainly fit me through all 9 months,” and ended up being too tight to wear much past 8 months of pregnancy. Ah, the memories.
After The Boy was born, I was so very eager to fit back into my pre-pregnancy clothes, but of course they didn’t fit me immediately. Maternity clothes could not continue being worn, because I had spent maybe 6 months wearing the same things over and over and over again, and since I was no longer pregnant just couldn’t stomach the fact that I still needed them. The old trusty sweatpants were so worn by that point, that I am fairly sure they had several holes in them in places pants cannot have holes and continue to be worn in public. I also had not yet reached the point where I found it acceptable to wear sweatpants in public. I think this is when I discovered yoga pants. Yoga pants are wonderful things, they are comfy like sweat pants, but have a nice boot leg that tries to deceive you into thinking they are “real” pants. They are fairly form fitting, which works to their advantage, by the 3rd day in a row you are wearing them they are feeling pretty good. They are somewhat stretched out, but not so much that you feel they need to be washed. The yoga pant also tricks you into thinking they are appropriate to wear in the outside world. Paired with a v-neck top you almost fool yourself into thinking you are dressed up.
Now that I have lost most of the baby weight from both children, I find myself still longing to wear the yoga pants. I love fall weather because it means I no longer have to suffer with shorts, I can hide my legs sufficiently with yoga pants again. I come home from work, go for my run, take a shower, and change into my beloved black yoga pants. The Old Navy yoga pant is very nice, but I just picked up a new pair of Danskin yoga pants, that are giving the ONs a run for their money. On the weekends, I consider myself dressed up if I am wearing jeans. Yes, I have become a fashion don’t. If I ever end up on What Not to Wear, they will have to pry the yoga pants from my hands, or maybe I would just have to hide them in our mini-van. Surely, nobody would suspect that a Mom of two kids under the age of 4 would be so addicted to yoga pants would they? I think I afforded myself too much comfort while I was pregnant, and now there is no turning back. I look at skirts and suits with disgust as I think about having to tuck in shirts all day long. Give me my yoga pants, and I am one happy camper.
After The Boy was born, I was so very eager to fit back into my pre-pregnancy clothes, but of course they didn’t fit me immediately. Maternity clothes could not continue being worn, because I had spent maybe 6 months wearing the same things over and over and over again, and since I was no longer pregnant just couldn’t stomach the fact that I still needed them. The old trusty sweatpants were so worn by that point, that I am fairly sure they had several holes in them in places pants cannot have holes and continue to be worn in public. I also had not yet reached the point where I found it acceptable to wear sweatpants in public. I think this is when I discovered yoga pants. Yoga pants are wonderful things, they are comfy like sweat pants, but have a nice boot leg that tries to deceive you into thinking they are “real” pants. They are fairly form fitting, which works to their advantage, by the 3rd day in a row you are wearing them they are feeling pretty good. They are somewhat stretched out, but not so much that you feel they need to be washed. The yoga pant also tricks you into thinking they are appropriate to wear in the outside world. Paired with a v-neck top you almost fool yourself into thinking you are dressed up.
Now that I have lost most of the baby weight from both children, I find myself still longing to wear the yoga pants. I love fall weather because it means I no longer have to suffer with shorts, I can hide my legs sufficiently with yoga pants again. I come home from work, go for my run, take a shower, and change into my beloved black yoga pants. The Old Navy yoga pant is very nice, but I just picked up a new pair of Danskin yoga pants, that are giving the ONs a run for their money. On the weekends, I consider myself dressed up if I am wearing jeans. Yes, I have become a fashion don’t. If I ever end up on What Not to Wear, they will have to pry the yoga pants from my hands, or maybe I would just have to hide them in our mini-van. Surely, nobody would suspect that a Mom of two kids under the age of 4 would be so addicted to yoga pants would they? I think I afforded myself too much comfort while I was pregnant, and now there is no turning back. I look at skirts and suits with disgust as I think about having to tuck in shirts all day long. Give me my yoga pants, and I am one happy camper.
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