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| Saturday, May 10, 2008 |
Something to Say about Denial |
With my first triathlon tomorrow morning, I have been trying to be particularly careful in my eating and sleeping habits this week. I have also tried hard to manage my progressively escalating case of nerves as the week went on. So you might expect that I would have gone to sleep as early as possible yesterday. Almost as if I were in denial about my need for rest, I did the opposite, and enjoyed what was for me an unprecedented social opportunity that I could not refuse.
I was honored to receive an invitation from Soccer Mom in Denial to join her and Jenn from Something to Say about Life in the Netherlands for dinner. That's right, for this weekend Jenn in Holland is Jenn in Massachusetts! How cool is that?
We had a fun evening typing talking and talking and talking. Plus there was fabulous food. We were the last ones to leave the restaurant. Hmmm...I bet my triathlon training buddy and our trainer would have something to say about that. If they ask me about it, I may need to deny it. Afterwards, we went to a bar. Relax! I was willing to stay out late for friends, but I did deny myself alcohol in order to avoid derailing my training and triathlon prep. Actually, I had such a good time that I really feel it helped me to relax before my big event tomorrow. The Big Giraffe also denied me the consequences of my late night by generously encouraging me to sleep in today! I certainly have something to say about his kindness.
I have enjoyed what SMID and Jenn have to say for almost as long as I have been blogging, and there was no denying from our prior meetings that SMID is a fabulous person. I quickly felt that I could say the same about Jenn. I have to admit that as much as I enjoyed getting to know Jen and getting to know SMID better, what most stuck with me today, other than just having a great time last night of course, was what Jenn had to say about Life in the Netherlands.
Of course, I had to find a metaphor in what Jenn described to apply to my own life. For example, Jenn described the way she shops by going from specialty store to specialty store like the cheese store, the nut store, and the bakery, just the way things used to be in the US before supermarkets became so prevalent, except that they bike everywhere. So today I didn't just go to the supermarket, but made a stop at a specialty store, Trader Joe's, to stoke my yogurt craving as well. Technically, I haven't ridden my bike in two days, but I will be on it bright and early tomorrow for the first leg of my triathlon. Yeah, not as nice and neat as in the Netherlands, but if you add biking and choosing the right store for each purchase... Of course, in the Netherlands, an employee would have started pulling together my usual order for me when I walked into the stores. Trader Joe's didn't even have my normal order; they were out of the cheaper Greek yogurt. I silently rejoiced at the "excuse" to buy the more expensive Greek yogurt that tastes twice as good.
Tomorrow's my big day. I'm all packed and just about ready to go to bed. I'm definitely nervous although not nearly as nervous as I would have thought. Apparently a night off was just the ticket.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: When preparing for something stressful, there is something to be said about denial.Labels: Blogging Flexibly, Exercise and Fitness, Food (Solid), Humor (at least Attempted), Outings and Playgroups |
posted by Alex Elliot @ 8:06 PM   |
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| Thursday, May 08, 2008 |
Bare Naked Ladies Snacktime Concert |
Today I felt like I was on an international flight filled with preschoolers and babies. A flight where there was only one parent for every 2+ kids. In typical flight tradition, it was hot and there was hardly any room between seats. I was getting kicked by the kids behind me, and I had to pry my own kids off the seats in front of us on more than one occasion.
Parents all around me had diaper bags chock full of premiere snacks (aka junk food (aka bribe food)) for their kids. The ones who hadn't thought to do this were luckily able to purchase good bribe food. Some parents had thought to bring crayons, paper, books, toys, stickers, you name it to entertain their kids. Others like yours truly felt blessed that they hadn't cleaned out their diaper bags in a while and were able to pull out a bunch of cheap plastic toys.
Parents started out on a happy, enthusiastic note and cheerfully comforted their kids who were tired of sitting still. Within a short period of time, threats were being issued left and right. By the end I felt like an insane person. I was hot, tired and I felt like...well...I was on an international flight with little kids. Except I wasn't. I was at a free Bare Naked Ladies concert in Barnes and Noble.
Yes, you did read that right! BNL was promoting their new CD Snacktime. I have always imagined going to a BNL concert, although I never pictured two little kids hanging on me. I have to admit at first I thought this was some weird MA thing, I mean a concert in a bookstore, but it's actually a national tour. And it turned out to be totally worth it. I had a great time, and the boys really enjoyed themselves. In fact my younger son (YS) enjoyed himself so much that I had a flashback to a conversation with my aunt where she said YS had the personality of a golden retriever and would be one of those kids who is always up for a party. Watching YS quickly get into the groove and start clapping to the beat, caused me to make a mental note to remember to order some of the Say No pamphlets that are always advertised on TV. I'm kidding, he's just shy of two...but on the other hand he was really into it and I could picture him in his teenage years swaying back and forth with a lighter....
The concert was for 30 minutes. In addition to singing songs off their new album, they sang one of my favorite workout song, Another Postcard, and One Week. We even got to meet them after the show.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Bare Naked Ladies are definitely appropriate for small children.Labels: Humor (at least Attempted), Outings and Playgroups |
| posted by Alex Elliot @ 7:37 PM |
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| Sunday, May 04, 2008 |
Baby Gear: Discard Now or Later? |
When I first had my older son (OS), I could not imagine giving away one single item of his. What if I regretted it? What if I needed it later? When I worked at our moms group yard sale, it almost pained me to see the high chairs, strollers, and Pack N Plays donated. How could people part with these items? I'm sure those of you with older kids are laughing about that one.
The Big Giraffe and I have decided to move! Yes, we're really excited about it. There's a catch though. After meeting with our financial planner, we're probably going to wait another year to year and a half. Probably. We're meeting with a realtor tomorrow evening to find out where the market challenges have dropped our home value and to get an early idea of what work we need to do before putting our house on the market. The fact of the matter is a year will go by pretty quickly.
Our annual moms yard sale is also later this month. I went into our basement a few nights ago to try to see it through a realtor's eyes and, after fleeing in horror, I came to a rather shocking realization: I'm no longer attached to baby items. In fact, the yard sale can't come quickly enough. I am excited to casually donate my high chair, baby toys, etc. I decided to take a stab at selling some of them and have been amazed by the response. Anything that doesn't sell is going to the yard sale.
It doesn't take a background in rocket science for me to realize that I had been hanging onto these items because I wasn't ready to say that I was done having babies. Sometime between then and my current look at the basement, it became alright to let them go. Yes, I know getting rid of things is a sure fire way to get pregnant again. I already checked my birth control prescription. Phew!
As a prospective buyer was checking out the high chair today, I noticed that the white plastic had started to yellow in spots. This high chair is only just about 5 years old, and I've kept it very clean. In fact, it was less used than most of my baby gear, because my younger son (YS) went straight to a booster chair, so he never used the high chair. I was a little surprised by how quickly it had begun to age. Then I had another realization. If I didn't get rid of it now, it would be a guaranteed fight with my future daughters-in-law.
I imagine that the conversation would go something like this:
Alex Elliot (AE): I've saved this high chair for all these years for my grandchildren.
Future Daughter-in-law (FDIL): It looks like it's aged a little. Why is it yellow? It was white in the pictures with my husband
AE: (defensive) It's perfectly fine (and to me it would be!).
FDIL: What year was that plastic made? I remember reading in a history book that there were many issues with plastic when we were born.
AE: That was BPAs, and I don't remember any high chair trays being recalled.
FDIL: All the same, though our plastic regulations are much better now. It's been 30 years after all. I just don't want my baby actually eating off of old, degrading plastic. Seriously a high chair tray is the baby's plate. That's just gross not to mention dangerous.* Maybe we can take and keep a picture of it.
AE: Fine. (rushing out of the room to call the Big Giraffe). But I saved it all these years for you!!!
Alright maybe I saved it all these years for me. That would be hard to admit though.
*If this is YS's wife, she can point out that he never even used the high chair in which case I will pretend I don't hear her.
Wow! I'm exhausted from this fight. May all my fights with my FDILs be this easy to avoid! Off to tell the Big Giraffe how I'm the best FMIL ever! Alright, at least let me have this moment!
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Deal with baggage and other gear before it poisons future relationships.Labels: Humor (at least Attempted), Toys / Clothes / Gear |
| posted by Alex Elliot @ 6:11 PM |
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| Wednesday, April 30, 2008 |
Another Addition Goes Down the Toilet |
Yes, we over in the Elliot household are getting a little wild. First it was the $3 zester. That was unbudgeted item. Alright maybe, I'm exaggerating a little bit, but this next item certainly was an unforeseen expense. Perhaps if we had acknowledged it a little earlier, it wouldn't have been unexpected.
The moaning groaning had been going on for about a year now. Every time we had a sitter, we would need to tell her not to think she needed to call the police or Ghostbusters if she heard it. Honestly at the beginning it would wake the boys up at night...not to mention me. The Big Giraffe is a deep sleeper so it didn't seem to bother him too much. Finally I couldn't take it anymore, so I sought help. The problem was actually solved, but a new one arose. It just couldn't be satisfied. It became so time consuming that I had just about had it. Until there was a flood. That was the final straw.
Today we are the proud new owners of a brand-new toilet. That's right. For the amount we spent on this toilet (which was the cheapest one we could find that had a good reputation) we could have bought a ton of zesters.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: If your toilet is moaning and groaning it's probably time to call in a plumber. Labels: Humor (at least Attempted), Random |
| posted by Alex Elliot @ 7:13 PM |
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| Tuesday, April 29, 2008 |
Where the Streets Have No Name |
I'll give you a moment to get the U2 song into your head (or click on it so you can actually hear it). It will set the tone for this post. Then you can be mad at me for the rest of the day when you can't get it back out of your head.
One of the many things that just leaves me staring in amazement is the way streets are named in Massachusetts. Many streets do not appear to have a name. That's not to be confused with streets that change names every block. I've had quite a few debates with people over the names of streets. They will insist that a road may be called Belmont Street or Boston Turnpike, while I will point out that if I follow the signs for Route 9 and ignore when it is called Belmont Street, Boston Turnpike, Highland Street, or any other name, I will get to Natick and see the fabulous new mall with the Cheesecake Factory. Quite honestly, if it takes you to cheesecake, does it really matter what it's called?
This brings me to this past Sunday. I decided to take a second stab at running the course (literally) for the triathlon. Well...most of the course. I didn't do the swimming. I did the biking again with no problem. Then armed with the handwritten list of street names for the running course that I had copied from the triathlon website, I took off. Everything seemed fine, until I realized I was back at the main street without having run through every street on my list. Based on the amount of time that elapsed, there were two possibilities: I had doubled my running speed or more likely, I had somehow lost a mile of the course. How weird does that sound? It's true though. The same thing happened the week before when my triathlon training buddy and I also attempted the running part of the course. The only difference was that time she had written the directions.
Determined to find where I took a wrong turn, I retraced my steps. That's when I realized the third possible explanation. I had stepped into a Harry Potter book. You HP fans know that in order to get to Diagon Alley, someone (usually Hagrid) has to tap a strange pattern of swipes onto what looks to the average person like a brick wall with his umbrella. The wall then magically disappears revealing a magical town. I believe that the triathlon course is similar. I needed Hagrid to bring his magic pink umbrella to tap on one of the luxury driveways in this neighborhood to magically cause another street to appear. I want to tear down the walls that hold me inside.
Of course in this very nice neighborhood it is hard to distinguish driveways from small streets; I suspect one of those non-driveways may be the missing link on the secret triathlon route. I did take a gander down several driveways, but after getting weird looks from a homeowner or two, I decided it was better to hedge my bets that the course will be marked on race day than spend the next several hours in jail after the cops were called on me for trespassing. That would make me want to run and want to hide. This does impact my race gear. In addition to needing shoes, a bike, a swim suit, a helmet, brown and a bag to wear over my head or throw up in (but not in that order), I also need a magic pink umbrella.
Alright, I am sure the prosaic among you may have come up with another explanation for the missing mile on my triathlon route. It is possible that the map on-line was wrong. It could also just be my mistake. My spinning instructor told me that she missed the microscopic street the first time she ran that triathlon while waving back at a friendly (or mischievous) neighborhood kid who waved at her. HP magic sounds way more fun. My favorite explanation remains the possibility that I developed superpowers and ran the until course in record breaking speed...
All I can do is what I told my training buddy. "When I go there, I go there with you. It's all I can do."
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: The amount of time required to finish a triathlon depends on your speed, the length of the route, and the amount of the route that you follow.
Cross posted at New England Mamas
Labels: Exercise and Fitness, Humor (at least Attempted) |
| posted by Alex Elliot @ 5:50 PM |
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| Sunday, April 27, 2008 |
A New Addition |
I'm going to leave you in suspense for minute. The Big Giraffe and I got married almost 7 years ago. We both lived in our own apartments and we each owned a set of dishes, pots, pans, silverware and kitchen appliances. When it was time to register, we decided that since we already owned these things (some in duplicate) we weren't going to register for them. We would only register for things that we absolutely needed like the waffle maker...the one that's been sitting in a closet for almost 7 years that we've used twice.
As we looked at aisles and aisles of kitchenware, I remember thinking that it was all such a waste. Didn't people know how to minimize? In my boldness, I may have even said something to that effect to the salesperson in my engagement giddiness. This giddiness is now making me blush as I type this.
Now that I have delved more into cooking over the past four years of being a stay at home mom, and my husband has gotten into cooking on the weekends, I would like to go back and shake my 25 year old self and ask what I was thinking when I registered! Why didn't we replace our things with good stuff that we actually liked instead of the odds and ends of things we already had most of which weren't in great shape? Why didn't we expand on what we had? Why on earth do we have a waffle maker sitting in our guest closet? Alright that's a conversation I should also be having right now with my 32 year old self.
Last night I actually baked. I'll pause for a moment of silence because this is a rare event in our house. Pause. This was for a baby shower that I'm hosting today. One of things I made was lemon bars. Lemon bars (or at least my recipe for lemon bars) require lemon zest. That was the straw that broke the camel's back. For the past seven years, I have used many recipes that have required zest. Most of them tend to be low fat chicken ones that require orange zest. I have always done the logical thing: skip the zest. Why did I need to skip it? Well, a zester is one of the items that I scoffed at when registering. Truth be told, I'm not sure I had even seen one before I registered, but I do remember what it looked like at Crate and Barrel when I did register. The handle was shaped like a lime.
Yesterday I decided enough was enough, and I shelled out $3 for a cheapo zester at the grocery store while fully aware that had a I registered for one instead of... oh let's just say for example... a waffle iron, I would have a nice cute one that didn't look like it was going to fall apart. We are now the proud owners of a cheap zester! Note to self: next time I'm near a place that sells decent kitchenware, buy a decent zester. Second note to self: do something about waffle iron.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: If you plan to bake with zest, you need a zester.Labels: Humor (at least Attempted), Mom-Care |
| posted by Alex Elliot @ 7:58 AM |
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I think it's good you got to relax a little. That has to help!
Good luck tomorrow!