Rain, rain, go away!

It's raining. Again. Still. However you want to look at it, it is raining.

I like warm summer showers that force you to go outside and play in all of the puddles (I wonder where Baba gets his obsession with puddles from?). I don't like this yucky, cold, never ending spring rain. Although, I must admit, the grass is starting to get a little green so that's promising.

But seriously. It can rain at night. When I'm sleeping. I need the sunshine or at least dry cloud-shine during the day/evening so I don't have to run on the treadmill. I strongly dislike running on the treadmill. It is boring. And I feel like a hamster on its wheel.

I wonder if I will ever get to own a hamster. I've always wanted a hamster (among other things) and my mother said when I grew up and lived on my own I could have whatever pet I wanted, but no cousin of a mouse was living in her house.

She lied. Zippy is against the hamster owning idea no matter how much I beg. I'll get Baba involved in my crusade soon. How could he resist, "Hamster, Dadda, please?"

And the Dx is....

Massive periosteum hematoma to the left tibia with superficial abrasions.

Sounds so much better than I bruised my shin bone and skinned my knee.

Happy Birthday Little Ditty. She said to herself when she woke up today, "If I was my sister, I would be having a baby in 3 months."

Meaning, I had Baba when I was 23 and 3 months. She is not pregnant nor married. I was both.

Ooh. Mom! Owww!

I really thought I had outgrown the whole skinned knees thing a couple years ago. I thought once you reached 21 it was impossible to skin your knees. I thought I would be tended to Baba's skinned knees, not mine.





I was so wrong.





Despite the fact that my entire weight and the boy's weight (we're talking about 35 of his pounds plus about 145ish of my poundage here) landed on my poor, defenseless shin, I did not swear. Granted there were other people's children around and it isn't my place to teach them some choice words. I am still impressed with my self control.





I was swearing on the inside.





My first thought (next to not throwing up from the pain) was how am I going to run through this. I must have a disease or something. Here I am completely exhausted and injured and I'm thinking about going for a run. But seriously, does anyone else think it looks like I have two knees on the same leg?

After we got back from the park, I cleaned my wound out (there was a lot of swearing on the inside involved in that) and then propped my leg up in a vain attempt to reduce swelling. Baba thought he had an owie too, so he sat next to me on the chair with his little leg propped up, moaning in agony. Monkey see, monkey do.

A is for Australia, Austin, Abbuwa, Apples, Aunts, Aardvarks, and Anteaters.

The forecast for tomorrow was not so promising, so I ran 9 whole miles today. Despite the fact that I had walked around at the outlet mall (it had been some time since I had been there, I now remember why) and ate pizza for lunch.

About halfway through I got bored. Really bored. I wasn't into my music - I had been listening to it for over an hour and I was running on gravel road - not much excitement there. So I began playing the alphabet game. First time through was a country for every letter, then a city for every letter, then I made up a word for every letter complete with definition and use in a sentence, then something I liked that started for every letter (try to think of something you like that starts with Q - yeah, that's what I thought. Oh crap! I just thought of a good one. Quiet!), and then I had to think of 5 words that started with each letter.

I have probably known my alphabet for 20 or so years now. It is amazing how hard to it is to remember what letter comes after 'K' when you have ran 7 miles and are so tired you probably couldn't remember your address if you needed to.

PS: Why on earthy can no one (Nike, Addias, and Reebok - I'm looking at you here) make a sports bra that keeps the girls from bouncing out of control when you have largish boobs? Why? I don't want to loose an eye while running!

Eh? What did you say, sonny?

I did it. I finally broke down and listened to Zippy's MP3 player while running. I know how bad it is to run while listening to music (FYI: your eardrum is already vibrating from the motion of your exercise, the music causes your eardrum to vibrate even more, thus causing hearling loss), but it is so boring to run for an hour with no music except the random kid yelling or squealing of tires (by the way, why does everyone seem to think my neighborhood is a race track and the speed limit is 93?).

I am justifing in two ways. First of all, my hearing is excellent and if I lose a little hearing ability I may be able to sleep through a certain small child's discussion of riding tractors, trucks, and hiding from pa at 4 am. And second of all, I have the volume set really low. So low, in fact, that with the wind blowing tonight there were times I couldn't hear the music.

Oh no! What if by making myself strain to hear the music I increase my hearing ability? What if I develope sonic ears?

Running

Who would have thought running 7 miles would leave a person so tired? It is hardly 7 PM and I am beyond ready for bed.

Two Foot Tyrant

I have a confession. I love toddlers. If I didn't have to go through the first 12 months or so, I would have about 15 kids. Seriously. I love that Baba's vocabulary multiplies by 4 every day. I love that Baba looks at the world in a fresh way, and I love the he always tries to make me laugh.

This morning, I was awaken by a flashlight in my face and a small child saying, "Up Mom!" First thing on his agenda is find Wili. After that, we have to look outside and oooh and ahh over the trucks and cars going to work.

Then it is time to "eat lunch." It is always time to eat lunch and every meal is lunch. And he always wants "fish" for lunch so I let him have fish for breakfast the other day. Fish is relatively good for you and a fit free morning is good for everyone.

After lunch he wants to "play park" in his "splash boots." But as soon as we go outside he yells, "Brr! Cold" no matter the temperature. He can run at a ridiculously high speed, especially if he is trying to get to his beloved park. Can I make this toddler thing last forever?

Happy Birthday Baba!

My baby is 2 today. More tomorrow. I am "borrowing" the neighbor's wireless connection because ours isn't working.

Life

Ahh, Cleveland. Why is it that everyone who lives here hates the city? I love Cleveland. I love the old houses, the fantastic neighborhoods and restaurants, the skyline, the city, the weather, and my friends. Yeah, Cleveland rocks.

I am very jealous of my friend's new apartments. It is the top story of a beautiful old house with built-ins and a sunroom. It is the apartment that I always pictured living in.

We stayed up way to late last night, drink too many cosmos (pre-mixed - after our margie episode no one lets me mix drinks any more), and talked about where we were in our lives compared to where we thought we would/should be and how to reconcile that.

My friend mentioned how I am so different than she is. Most of my friends say that. The truth is, I don't think I am like anyone. I see bits of myself in relatives, but I can't look at myself and say, "I am so much like ..........." because I am like no one. I've always wondered why people want to be my friend. I am very cold until I get to know people, but once I befriend someone, I will do anything they need (including, but not limited to driving to Cleveland to pick someone up because they need help).

Did I picture that I would be living in Minnesota at 25 with a 2 year old son and little to no desire to have more babies? No. I always thought that I would want many children and I would stay home with said children. I don't know if I want to stay home with future children, I just want the option to do so. I certainly didn't picture working for a security company or living out in the country - I like the city.

For the most part, I am very happy with my place in life. I have a wonderful, fantasic, super-terrific husband, a great son whom I love with all my heart, a job I don't hate (huge!), and I am okay with where I am at. Life is so much better than it was a year ago. Note to self: next time I have PPD, take the drugs.

Post Number 150

Two storms in just over a week! How unfair is that? Especially considering I am going to be driving to Cleveland this weekend and Zippy is going to be driving to Montana. Keep your fingers, toes, eyes, what have you crossed that they are wrong and we get no snow!

The Whole Family

Back row: Little Ditty, Ziz, Poonch II

Front Row: Poopie la Squirt, Momby, Zippy, and me.

Baby row: Baba, Zicah

Aren't we a cute family? Do you think anyone would suspect that Ziz is my parents adopted daughter and Zicah isn't Zippy and my baby?

You are getting sleepy.....

I am beyond tired. I have been dozing off at my desk at work all day. But it was worth it.

Cleveland

Since I have nothing better to do this weekend, I am driving to Cleveland. Its only 14 hours one way. I will be bringing home my sista and her son. It will be a crowded, fun, couple weeks. Hooray for friends!

1072

I got my Grandma's Marathon confirmation card in the mail yesterday. I am number 1072. I also got a sinus infection which prevented me from running last night and probably will prevent me from running tonight. I think chasing after Baba has to count towards something.

Grandpa D

I was never very close to my dad's dad. Grandpa D was a tough, gruff guy who I always knew as a crabby old scary man. We lived over an hour away from where they live and my father never wanted to spend any time with them so my sister and I never really got to know him or my Grandma D.

A couple weeks before Grandpa D passed away, I called him and spoke with him for a long time. I had never talked with Grandpa D on the phone before. The conversation was very strange - he talked about getting old and how much he had seen and how happy he was with his children and his grandchildren. Before he hung up, he said he loved me. Three very little words that I had never heard from him before.

Tomorrow I start training for Grandma's Marathon in June. I want to run a marathon for several reasons, but mostly to prove that I can do it. My mom finally accepted that I am going to run (I can't really figure out what her opposition is to the thought of me running 26.2 miles). She told me that Grandpa D would be very proud of me and that he would watch me run while I was playing as a kid and always said I would be a long distance runner. She said that he would be watching me run the marathon and cheering me on. I'm counting on him carrying me through a couple miles.

I'm sorry that I didn't know him well. There is really no excuse for it. I was 21 when he died - plenty of time to get to know him, but I never did. Partly because I thought my dad would be angry if I wanted to spend time with his parents and partly because he was crabby and wasn't always a lot of fun to be around. I do feel like he is watching over me sometimes. I picture him sitting where ever he is, petting our old dog Max. He used to love to pet Max. Whenever he would come over the hair would fall of the dog in piles. I really wish I would have known him.

Drive Trucks?

Zippy and I both enjoy video games. And I've been looking forward to the day where I can play video games with Baba (and kick his butt, of course), but I've often wondered how young will we be able to get him addicted.

Turns out 1 year and 11 months is the answer. Zippy spent an hour this afternoon teaching Baba how to drive trucks on Midtown Madness. Now if I could just teach Baba to play Lego Star Wars with me.

More ride!

Since it was about 8000 degrees below zero yesterday, we met my parental units, my sister, and Poonch II at the Park at MOA to ride the rides. I haven't ridden any of the rides at the park since it opened and much to my delight found I had a blast yesterday.

Unsure if Baba would like the rides or be scared, we bought him three points to ride the choo-choos.

He never smiled the entire time we were riding, but once we stopped, he said, "More choo-choos." I went and bought him an unlimited ride wrist band and my dad took Baba on every ride he wanted to go on (The Park has the coolest policy ever - if your kid is too small to ride by themselves, the required chaperone rides for free).

On no ride did he crack a smile or laugh, but as soon as the ride was over, he would say, "More!"

Timberland Twister is my favorite roller coaster ever. Yesterday was so much fun! We are considering investing in season passes for all of us.

Happy February!!

Where did January go?

Dogs vs. Kids

Toddlers and puppies are so much alike. You have to watch them constantly so they don't make a mess in the house. Both have to be housebroken. You talk to them the same way - short, to the point commands and sentences. Both are bed hogs. They can both be ridiculously cute and annoying.

Both take away time that could be spent updating your blog, but both are worthy distractions.

A Weighty Issue

This has been turning in my brain since my doctor's appointment on Monday. I started Zoloft about 6 weeks ago and since then I have felt a lot better (my good friend Roblyn the Goblyn convinced me to go on drugs. She said she just needs a little help to get through the winter, which made me think it was okay for me to ask for help), but I haven't been hungry. So I've lost some weight.

My doctor told me that my recent weight loss was concerning. I was getting to the point where I weighed too little for my height. I was shocked. Somehow, despite 13 years of dieting, I have never understood that my weight is relative to my height. Sure, I knew that if a person who was 5 feet weighed 150 pounds they would be over-weight, whereas a person who was 6 feet and weighed the same would be underweight. I just never knew this applied to me.

See, I always thought I needed to weigh this magic number, 115, and then my parents would love me and they would be proud of me. My sister wouldn't be embarrassed of me and I would be worth something. At that weight my BMI would be 17.5 and extremely unhealthy. But I equated that magic number with being accepted in my family.

When she told me I was underweight I laughed. I can't possibly be underweight, have you seen my extra skin? It matches quite nicely with my stretch marks. Then I passed out at the vet's office (by the way, the floor stinks like no other!) and I started wondering what I am doing to myself. I have been on a very restrictive diet since we went dress shopping for my sister's wedding. I am the only one in her wedding that is over 5 feet and weighs over 100 pounds. I am an amazon woman compared to the petite things that make of the rest of her bridal party.

For the first time in 13 years (save for when I was pregnant), I am not on a diet. I feel guilty every time I eat, am still not hungry, but I am not counting every calorie I take in and trying to burn every calorie off. My place of employment bought lunch today. I didn't order something low calorie, I ordered what I thought would taste good (I only ate about half of it, but that is another story).

Fainting scared me. I cannot run a marathon on less than 1700 calories a day. I have decided it is more important to be healthy (this feeling faint all the time has got to stop) than fit into a size 6. We will see how that goes for me.