I know my blogging has been sporadic at best. Between the kids, triathlon training and the time sucker of life aka The PTO Pasta Dinner, somehow blogging has just slipped. Fortunately, everything is good...even the fundraiser.
However, March is an important transitional month for me. It is the time of year when I shift from exercise to training, as I prepare for my third triathlon season. This year my training is mainly focused on the Nautica New York City triathlon. It's my first time doing an Olympic distance tri. My training buddy and the cyclist from my relay team are also doing it. Since I am a veteran, surely I should be done being neurotic about tris. Gone is my first year worry about what to wear. Gone (or perhaps dormant) is my second year fear of being eaten by a shark. Alas, however, there is still something to fear besides fear itself.
My new fear is the bike. Actually this is a fear from last season, but it is no longer overshadowed by the prospect of imminent death from a shark. Last season I started having problems with my bike chain falling off while I was riding. Normally that wouldn't be a big deal. However, I can't always get my feet out of the clipless pedals in time, particularly since it usually happens going up a hill, so the bike won't coast forward to give me time to unclip. I therefore suffer from a slow motion bike crash that does extreme injury to my pride. Hey, I would even laugh if I saw myself falling.
Believe it or not, some of my fellow athletes are convinced that this is because I am more confident I with my biking and therefore more willing to experiment with the different gears. I may be changing them too late. Fortunately one of my cyclist relaymate has offered to help me. His help has also helped me solve on of my previous exercise mysteries...why some people go to spinning class decked out in biking gear to ride a stationary bike.
Apparently many spinners have a computrainer. This is a computer bike that allows you to virtually ride different bike courses. Kind of like a Wii and bike in one. My teammate not only has a computrainer, but his wife got him the program for the Nautica NYC bike course. I'm helping him with improve his swimming, and he's helping me with the biking. I think I have the better deal here! I may continue to laugh at those wearing biking gear to spinning, but if it will improve my cycling skills, I will soon be laughing at myself when wearing my helmet and sunglasses in spinning class.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Wearing biking gear to use a stationary bike is not necessarily a sign of insanity.
I was going to write a post about why you should never save jeans that you may some day wear again when you've lost weight. You know after you're all done having kids and everything goes back to the way it was before your first pregnancy? Ha! That however will have to be for another time. Perhaps by then I can include a photo.
Today I had my usual addiction carefully monitored time on Facebook so as to not spend gobs of time on it to lose 15 or so minutes on it. As I was checking my newsfeed I saw that my SIL had announced her and my BIL's exciting news: they're having a baby! Their daughter will be born at the beginning of May. Obviously they're thrilled. I immediately emailed her to see if she was OK with me putting it as my Facebook status.
We were thrilled too when we heard the news earlier. In addition to being happy for them because they're becoming parents, I am super* excited about my new role: aunt. This is the first time I will be an aunt.
A. Elliot's Lesson that I Already Knew: Being an aunt is exciting!
*I know "wicked" is the big well known MA word but I really think "super" should have that distinction. I am amazed, or I should say super amazed, by how often people around here say "super" including my own kids.
After being away for ten day, we slowly turned into our driveway and noticed that something looked wrong. What was different? Our house was still standing.
Then we noticed it: our mailbox was gone. Not just hanging at an odd angle as if it had one of its periodic close encounters with a snowplow or a car driven by a teenager who is good at hitting the gas but bad at holding the steering wheel. Completely decimated. The mailbox itself was nowhere in site, and the post was lying on the ground, snapped into multiple pieces.
Readers who grew up like me in towns where the mailperson brought the mail to your door may have a mistaken image. Least you imagine a series of cars careening off of the walls of our house, let me clarify that all of the mailboxes on our "rural route" are on one side, which is, or I should say was located across the street from us.
As we walked up to our house, we saw that our mailbox had been placed on our stoop. About an hour later our neighbor came over and explained that our mailbox had been hit by a car. Fortunately her husband got the license plate number.
The Big Giraffe went over to the police station later to deliver his report to a very understanding police officer, who was already familiar with what had happened. Why? Because he was the same police officer who had responded to the accident. Um...accident? When did the police get involved?
It turns out a woman turned around in our driveway and pulled out, while another car was driving down our street. Whether she didn't look before pulling out or he was speeding, he had to swerve to avoid a collision with her car. He instead ran over our mailbox, thick wood post and all. Not surprisingly, his car was damaged in the process.
In the meantime we have no mailbox which means we have no mail. Well...almost no mail. Our mailwoman did the mail on Monday because she saw that it contained the Big Giraffe's passport. However, she has not parked her car in the middle of her route, crossed the street, and marched down the snowy driveway since then. We need to not only get a new mailbox and post, but we need a 5 gallon bucket and sand to hold the post until the ground thaws enough to truly secure it. Fortunately the guy's insurance is paying for the mailbox, post, bucket, sand, and handyman installation. Don't laugh! We're not too handy around here. We had to get the handyman to install our last mailbox this time last year. I have no interest in digging a giant hole in the ground, and I can almost guarantee that the Big Giraffe doesn't either.
It's funny how our boring old mailbox is such a landmark. Neighbors I haven't seen in ages have stopped me to ask what happened to it. Someone named Balex Melliot may have even driven by my house by mistake. I mean it's not like I she hasn't been driving to our house for the last 8.5 years or anything!
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: When something happens to your property when you're away, the story will never make sense no matter how many times it's told to you.
Well, better that the other car hit the mailbox and not each other, right? That would be a pleasant surprise, to find out that there was a horrible crash in your driveway...
Those of you who know me, know that I am not a crafty mama. Those of you who know me well though know that I do more crafts with my kids than I'll admit. I think it's kind of like cooking. I cook pretty much every night, and it's from scratch and healthy, but I don't consider myself a cook. Basically every month I get a new issue of Cooking Light, and try most of the recipes. The ones I like I save, and everything else gets tossed in the recycling bin. Next month I do the same and use some of the saved recipes from previous months as well. I think like with crafts, it's because it's alright to do, but not something that I would like to be defined by. Also much like cooking, with crafts it depends just exactly how complicated the project is.
Every year up until now I have bought Valentine's cards from the grocery store. You know the ones that cost a couple bucks particularly if you wait until the day before your child's preschool Valentine's Day party? That would be the ones. One year I even bought them on clearance after Valentine's Day and saved them. Time is money though and the amount of time I spent trying to find them the following Valentine's was not enough to justify the dollar or two difference!
This year my older son (OS) announced he wanted to make Valentines. What?! I smiled and said sure confident that in another day or so this crazy idea would pass particularly when he saw the boxes of cards at the store. Unfortunately for me it did not and instead it turned into him nagging me to take him to get supplies. Monkey see monkey do and my younger son (YS) was also clamoring to make his own.
Here's what I came up with also to be cross-posted at Crafts for the Clueless.
Set your own definition for homemade. Mine was that it's made in your home not that every single aspect has to be your child's own original work.
Buy a container of heart shaped foam stickers.
Buy a package of construction paper. Yes, you would assume that parents of small children would have this, but hey this blogger gives her kids computer paper for drawings. I personally recommend nipping the idea of only pink and red in the bud and focusing on how surely someone would love a valentine made from the black paper that always comes in packs of construction paper
Buy a pack of Valentine's stickers. I got a huge pack for $1.
Glitter pens add a nice touch. Do not however buy glitter unless you want to be finding traces of it for the next ten years. This is one aspect of crafting I have always remained firm about with my kids. I swear my parents are still finding glitter in the cracks of their kitchen table from my brother back in the 80's. Sure kids should use glitter...at preschool and at someone else's house
Try not to think about how much more money your "homemade" cards are costing than the cheap-o box of Valentine's at CVS even with a coupon.
Use the base of the foam container to trace Valentine's. Ours happened to be heart shaped which worked out great, but honestly the kids would have been happy with squares or circles
Cut out enough for each kid in the class. Place them on the table with crayons, markers and your new supplies and let them loose*. Tell them to make sure each paper is decorated.
Drink a cup of coffee and just relax. No really, don't try to tell them how to decorate their cards. It's their project after all. Just be glad you used construction paper instead of computer paper because it's sturdier for all the decorations aka glitter glue.
I really did let them do whatever they wanted and other than help them start a few new glitter pens and peel a couple more complicated foam stickers at the beginning, I was able to sit back and relax. There really wasn't much to clean up either. I have to say it occupied them for over hour and the results were pretty impressive. Now of course I just have to fight the urge to write a note on the back of each Valentine telling the recipient they better treasure the Valentine because it was handmade after all!
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: The term homemade is defined by the creator of the craft.
*Normally I would have used this as an opportunity for practicing cutting, but I was worried that it was just too much for them to do; in other words, they would cut out the shapes but I would end up decorating them! Seeing as OS does fine with scissors and YS is only 3 I decided to go ahead and cut out the shapes by cutting 4 pieces of paper at a time to speed up the process.
With all the bad things going on the world right now, it's hard to complain about a bad day. However, it is still possible, and there are some rough parenting days. Maybe the trick is to look at them with a sense of humor...or a really good glass of wine. Seeing as I don't have any of the latter on-hand right now, unless you count the cooking wine, I'll go with humor.
Today I needed to take the boys to Boston for their ENT appointments. I dread these appointments. They usually take a minimum of three hours. First we have to wait for the audiology test, then have the test, then wait to see the doctor, then see the doctor. This doesn't even take into account just trying to find the building in the first place and then driving my CRV through narrow alleys that were probably barely wide enough for one person on horseback in the 18th century.
After a good swim this morning, I came home and brought out the golden bribe. That's right the bribe of all bribes: the portable DVD player. Normally I'm not the type of parent who packs toys and snacks for a doctor's appointment. First of all, I have no interest in doing it. Second, my kids would much rather play with germy office toys than anything I bring, so rather than fight it, I just try to remember to have them use a wipe on their hands when we leave. Before you groan, let me just say that my older son has not been sick at all this year. My younger one hasn't had more than a mild cough. His "sick days" have been for the two times I kept him home from school to go to playdates. My approach to germ management apparently works. Knock on wood big time!
Seeing as ENT appointments are horrific at best, I not only packed the DVD player, I packed lunch as well. Just as I finished up, I heard squeals coming from the bathroom. Hmm..two boys+fighting+laughing+overflowing toilet= squeals. In their defense, the toilet had been acting funny since yesterday. Whether it was a Leggo or a number 2, I know that at least one of them had something to do with it. Unfotunately I didn't have time to do much more than turn off the water and throw down a bunch of towels. Yeah, gross I know. What are blogs though if not true confessions? I shut the door so that the cats wouldn't get in the bathroom.
Off we went to Boston. After a number of traffic jams, pokes, threats, and counts to 3, we made it to Storrow Drive. All of a sudden I saw someone looking right at me. Yes, there was a cyclist riding along side my car. I was so startled I dropped an F bomb derivative. Yes, the boys learned a new vocabulary word today. They seemed impressed. Let's hope that their teachers are as well if they use it. I'm kidding. Let's hope they don't use it.
After getting majorly lost...three times, we made it. The hearing tests went well. Their exams went well. However, when I asked the doctor about OS's "phlegmy noises" he had a blank look on his face. You know, the throat clearing, aheming, coughing, and snorting that I presumed were the result of a serious medical problem? The doctor laughed. He did know exactly what I was talking about and apparently has had more than one parent of a boy come convinced that there surely is something wrong with their son. It was what I had suspected: a bad habit. Apparently my use of the term "gross boy noises" is not medically accurate.
Fortunately that was the boys last visit!! Their ear tubes are gone, and their ears are free of unnatural holes. The doctor in fact commented on how healthy they both were. I beamed with pride. Then I followed his gaze and realized he was eyeing YS who was under the chair, quite possibly licking the floor. Rats! I had hoped he wouldn't notice that. He laughed.
We dropped OS off at school, and then YS and I headed home..where we found our neighbor's dogs chasing cars in the streets. I parked the car in her driveway, and we got the dogs to follow us to her house. Phew. Time to sit down for a minute or two of relaxation. Or so I thought. A different neighbor called asking if she could come over. I furtively looked around my house as if she could see me...um my house was not at it's best. Outside of the boarded up bathroom quite possibly reeking of pee, I hadn't had time to run the dishwasher, wipe the the table or really put anything away. Two minutes later she was in my kitchen. Thankfully she didn't need to use my bathroom.
I did have a nice conversation with her. She didn't seem to care about the state of my house. Then it was time to pick up OS up for school because part of my big time bribe included taking him to NEADS to pet puppies. I almost never pick OS up from school. Apparently it showed. There is a rumor that someone named Balex Melliot may have held up the pick up line because she was confused about where her son was waiting. A teacher may have commented that it was obvious that her son usually takes the bus. I have no idea who this person is!
Playing with the puppies was fantastic! The boys had a great time...alright I probably had the best time of everyone! We came home, I made dinner and then realized that I never delt with the bathroom. Towels were thrown in the wash, the mop came out as did the Clorox. I was convinced that I had gotten stabbed in the foot but realized I had actually stepped on a Leggo in the kitchen. I almost had a repeat of today's word of the day. Since the newly clean but still wet bathroom is the one with the bathtub, I took YS upstairs for his first shower. He actually did pretty well. OS enjoyed his shower as well. Now if only they will fall asleep.
Alex Elliot's Mother-in-Law's Lesson Learned (as shared on Facebook): Now you don't have to worry about what they'll pick up from other kids or on the street. There are times when those are the only appropriate words, as long as they don't just fling them about randomly.
My 6 yr old came home from Catholic school with the F word and the C word. Wanted to know what they meant. I explained what they meant & how to use them in a sentence. They I explained that if any adult heard him use them, he would be in big trouble.
I learned all THOSE words from my dad before kindergarten. I figured letting mine get to first grade with minimal exposure was a step in the right direction.
Hey, all in all, it could have been WAAAAY worse, you know? Just think of all the ways that the little situations could have gone horribly wrong and you'll end up feeling like you've had a really accomplished day!
This past Thursday my younger son (YS) had a pajama day at preschool, or as we call it in our house a no underwear or commando day. When our older son (OS) was YS's age, he wasn't night time potty trained. The morning of the preschool pj day, he took off the overnight pull-up, put on underwear and put his pajama bottoms back on. YS however, has been night time trained for a while. Thus no need to remove a pull-up and no forced opportunity to add underwear.
When I dropped YS off at preschool, I explained to the teacher that Pajama Day was synonymous with No Underwear Day and that there was a pair of underwear in his backpack in case it was a problem. It of course wasn't. A former kindergarten teacher friend of mine told me that on any given day there's at least one student not wearing underwear. She also said something about the teachers, but I'll leave that to you.
Without revealing anyone's secrets, I will say that I opened up about this story to a lot of people, and in return I learned a lot about whether various people wear underwear at night...or during the day for that matter. The stories just kept on coming free throughout this weekend. The phrase "let it all air out" came up a lot.
As for what I do, well I may be a blogger but I'm not going to spill that secret! However, I'll leave you with an additional lesson learned.
A. Elliot's Relevant Lesson Learned: If you need to get a conversation going, discussing whether or not one should wear underwear to bed at night will do the trick.
A. Elliot's Unrelated Lesson Learned: If you decide to wax part of your face because your 6 year old lists you as one of the people he knows who has a mustache, be aware that doing so will hurt a lot.
Our kids have never spent a night away from us. Let me re-phrase that. We've never spent a night away from our kids. Notice the emphasis is on the Big Giraffe and me!
When our older son (OS) was younger, he did spend a night here and there with a friend which was wonderful. My mom also came to stay with him a couple times so that we could get away for the weekend. However, once we had two, it just became a lot more complicated, particularly because our friends all had at least two kids.
About a year ago I was talking with a friend who also has two kids and an out-of-state family about what he does to get away with his wife. He said that whenever his family comes to visit, they stay for at least a week so that there's plenty of time to spend with him and his wife and also time so that they can get away and the family can spend time with the kids. When he first told me about it, I thought it was a little..well...rude. I mean his family is presumably coming to see him. He pointed out that his family doesn't see it like that since they enjoy spending time alone with his kids.
I discussed this with a couple of other people that I know with out-of-state families and they said that they do the same thing. Who knew! Apparently not me. They also often extend their trips to visit family by a night or two so that they can stay in a hotel over by their families while their families get stuck babysitting the kids spend quality time with their kids.
I ran this by some family members and they seemed to really like this idea. The Big Giraffe and I were excited. We would finally be able to get away even if it is only to some dinky hotel in Worcester or the Chicago suburbs. However, just like with the best of plans, it just hasn't worked out. I think the longest we've had family visit us has been a couple of nights, and our visits to them do not last any longer. When that visiting time is jam packed with activities, there is little extra time available. It also becomes an added expense when we're already paying to travel to the Midwest at the same time.
We've had a few friends volunteer to watch our kids for us recently. For my birthday I told the Big Giraffe that what I would really like is to be able to go away for a night even if we stay here. There's a lot to be said for getting to stay in your quiet house. There were many emails between the Big Giraffe and my friends, a rumor of a few fights between the Big Giraffe and me, and we now have an official get away weekend! Sally HP will be watching the boys one night and my triathlon training buddy will be taking the boys the next night. Some family friends have also volunteered to watch the boys for...gasp here...several nights in a row so we can go away for our ten year anniversary!
Professional Mom of two cats, a dog, an ant farm, and oh yeah...two boys: a 6 year old and a 3 year old. Also found in my house is my husband who is known on this blog as The Big Giraffe.
For those of us who didn't get an instruction manual with our babies and for whom parenting hasn't always gone as planned. On a more serious note this blog is about supporting a woman's ability to make her own choices about parenting including the choice, for whatever reason, to bottle feed her babies formula.
that is incredibly exciting indeed!