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Squeezing in a Fun Walk
Before we left for the Actuallys’ for our very serious house-sitting/cat-sitting job, Bug and I squeezed in a two-mile “fun walk” at home. It wasn’t the smartest move. I only had a limited amount of time to pack my car with fifteen loads of dirty laundry and every craft supply I could think of, but a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. I promised the Actuallys I’d take them to the airport so I had exactly 1.2 hours to pack and hit the road. Why not squeeze in a local fun walk too? You know what they say, “If you want to get something done, ask a busy person.”
Pfffffff. I wish that was true. Tell that to the nine people on my waiting list and all the emails in my inbox that have gotten moldy while I take three months to respond to them. Groan.
Anyway!
The thing is, I’m fond of this local race. Remember when I ran the 5K when I was eight weeks pregnant? That was so incredibly fun. I wanted it to be my yearly tradition and Bug and I kept it up that first year. But then I flaked in 2007. I did NOT flake in 2008 however. I just flaked on writing about it.
So here we are at the race in 2009 kicking butt again. Technically we didn’t run it. We walked it. I’m a little out of shape. But we still broke a sweat and I felt like a million bucks when we were done. I really need to step up my game and exercise more regularly. I don’t know why I always forget that exercise feels even better than eating a cupcake.
Wouldn’t it be cool if Bug grew up to love running? I think half the reason I still like to run now in my middle age (besides the fact that I was blessed with knees that never give out on me) is because I used to run with my Dad when I was a kid. Not that my Dad was into running but I was and he ran with me. My Dad is so cool like that.
I probably never would have started running if I didn’t have this crazy fifth grade teacher who was a running nut. You remember those guys in the eighties? He made the whole class run. It was great. A lot of kids whined and complained about how much running hurt but I took to it which was really strange and fun because I was always that kid who got picked last for kickball teams. I might suck at sports but I can run and run and run and run. I was never fast but running didn’t bother me. Slow and steady wins the race, that was me.
Running really helped me deal with anxiety back then. I remember as a kid feeling like I had too much energy and no where to put it. My brain might be tired but my body wasn’t. So I’d go run a couple of blocks with my Dad and come back tired and happy. I wish I could still do that.
Right now I’m sort of stuck in a failure-loop where half the time I’m just too lazy and the other half of the time Bug refuses to ride in the jogger stroller. It’s so hard to get motivated when you have a little person around who would much rather eat waffles with Nutella on them in the morning than go for a little stroller jog on the beach with you. I know, I know. Excuses, excuses. But believe me when push comes to shove those excuses add up!
Except when they don’t! I’m so proud of Bug and me for squeezing in the Fun Walk. We still made it to the Actuallys in plenty of time to get them to the airport and as far as I know I didn’t forget anything in my hasty packing—A miracle really since every other time I’ve visited, I’ve forgotten something really key. Good thing Bethany keeps a stash of toothbrushes here for me.
I almost forgot! Bug got a tattoo at the after-race festivities. It’s air-brushed. But that doesn’t make her any less tough.
She’s super girl tough.
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scatterbrained listy post
I was talking to Bethany today about what a crappy blogger I’ve become recently. My biggest excuse is that my peak creative time does not align with Bug’s nap schedule anymore. This is very true. But it doesn’t help that I’ve discovered that I can watch television online when Bug is asleep. (Where have I been? 1993?) My productivity has taken a steep decline since I became hooked on Mad Men. Groan.
So I’m prying myself awake with a cup of java and hammering out a listy post. You guys like those, right? What’s been up around here? I started a meme called 101 Quirky Things My Kid Does but I’ve only gotten to about ten. So much for that idea.
Here they are so far:
- When Bug needs to go potty she will insist I come with her only so she can yell, “PRIVACY!” at me and demand that I shut my eyes while she poops.
- Pacifiers that are old are called “yucky pahs.” Pacifiers that are new are called “yummy pahs.” Only she can tell the difference but according to her it’s a really really big difference.
- She hates potatoes. She always has, even when she was a baby. She wouldn’t eat any baby food if it had potatoes in it.
- She walks up to random strangers and introduces herself. I really need to teach her not to do that.
- She doesn’t like chicken or pork unless it’s the “dark kind” that I make (aka drowned in soy sauce).
- To Bug, people are color-coded. Everyone has a color. If you don’t have one she will assign you one. (Her color is green, duh. Mine is red and Toby is blue, Bethany is yellow and orange, SuperChic is purple and pink…they usually match your favorite color but not always.)
- She has her own Moleskine sketchbook that she draws in when she is bored.
- When bathtime is over if I don’t let her pull the plug and say, “I caught a shark!” as she dangles the plug on its long chain into our hair-rinsing pitcher, she will fall to pieces. Same thing with the vacuum cleaner plug. If I unplug it myself we have water-works so bad that I will just plug the cord back in so she can unplug it.
- If anyone but me takes her out of the carseat without explicit permission, she falls apart.
- When she says she’s hungry it just means she wants a pah, aka pacifier.
Those of you who know Bug will be totally bored by this list because it’s so old news.
In other news we have a pumpkin growing on our porch! A real pumpkin!…I think. It could be a watermelon. It’s growing in a big pot with our struggling palm tree and even-more-struggling orchid. I just looked over one day and there was this giant sprout growing out of the rocks. It didn’t look like a weed, it looked like a squash leaf or something. So I pulled back a couple of rocks and lo and behold there were some big flat pumpkin seed looking things. So I’m almost convinced that somehow last year when we were carving pumpkins some stray seeds crawled over there and planted themselves.
I’m very happy about this development. I never ever remember to plant a pumpkin and every year about October I kick myself because how easy would it be to plant a pumpkin? So this year it planted itself! Bug and I are watching our little (but actually pretty big) sprout very carefully. I can’t wait until it winds itself around our porch and produces a big fat baby pumpkin. If it makes it. If it dies I think I will cry.
And that’s all she wrote.