Ok, seriously, these shin splints are a little out of control. I realize continuing to run is not going to make things any better, but I am over half way through this training schedule and you are sorely mistaken if you think I am stoppin' now. Last night's run sucked. Plain and simple. I was tired, my allergies were kicking my ass and my shins were already killing me. What was supposed to be a 4 mile run, ended up a little less than 3. Whatever. This was the first time I have shorted a run. Oh wait. That's a lie. But the other time we stopped to talk to friends and meet an adorable little girl so it doesn't count.
Anyway, last night the shins were killing me...even while running which was new. I iced them twice, once even doing a variation of an ice massage. Who knew BooBoo Buddies are for adults too? And then we had a thunderstorm. A very weak thunderstorm. Pretty sure there was only one actual clap of thunder. But of course my wonderful mutt made sure I was awake for it. I finally couldn't take it anymore, picked her up and forced her to lay down under the covers. And while I was trying to comfortably hold her so she wouldn't get up to pace some more, she stretched out her legs and kicked me in both shins. Awesome.
Friday, March 30, 2012
Tub Pooper
We made it through the first 2 & 3/4 years without pooping in the tub. And now it starts? What the hell? We're goin' about 50/50 on baths with and without poop the past week. There has only been once that I caught it in time and managed to get his slippery little butt on a toilet. Every other time I end up fishing turds out of MatchBox car infested water.
I have to admit, the fault lands squarely on my shoulders for the most part. Last night was a perfect example. He stopped zooming cars around and got that I'm Gonna Poop face. I brilliantly ask him if he does in fact have to poop. Dumb dumb dummy Mama. Knowing he would have to get out of the bath to poop, he shockingly assured me that no, he did not have any poops. And here's where my impressive level of intelligence comes into play. I not only believed him that time, but I also believed him twice more when I asked. Ya wanna know what happens when you believe a toddler when they tell you about their bodily functions? You got it. Turd fishing. That's what happens.
Then, he has the audacity to ask me why when I say he has to get out of the tub. Well, honey, for starters your splashing around is making it harder for me to catch your poop. That you pooped out. In the tub. Not mention my second reason, I am not a huge fan of you bathing in poop water. Kinda defeats the purpose of the soap. But if that's how you wanna roll, we can just use the toilet instead of the tub. Make sure you scrub under the lid while you're in there.
I have to admit, the fault lands squarely on my shoulders for the most part. Last night was a perfect example. He stopped zooming cars around and got that I'm Gonna Poop face. I brilliantly ask him if he does in fact have to poop. Dumb dumb dummy Mama. Knowing he would have to get out of the bath to poop, he shockingly assured me that no, he did not have any poops. And here's where my impressive level of intelligence comes into play. I not only believed him that time, but I also believed him twice more when I asked. Ya wanna know what happens when you believe a toddler when they tell you about their bodily functions? You got it. Turd fishing. That's what happens.
Then, he has the audacity to ask me why when I say he has to get out of the tub. Well, honey, for starters your splashing around is making it harder for me to catch your poop. That you pooped out. In the tub. Not mention my second reason, I am not a huge fan of you bathing in poop water. Kinda defeats the purpose of the soap. But if that's how you wanna roll, we can just use the toilet instead of the tub. Make sure you scrub under the lid while you're in there.
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Mile Marker 88
I have completed 88 of the 195.1 miles of this half-marathon training journey. AKA: training that is making me question my ability to make sound life decisions. But 88 miles in, and so far so good...ish. My shins hurt like hell. I am really trying to shorten my stride since that is apparently supposed to help. Not an easy task. Hamstring is hanging in there. Sore and in need of a lot of stretching, but hangin' in there.
Kari and I ran 10 of those miles on Sunday. All at once. And we only stopped to choke down some Gu at the half way point. Ya did just fine on the flavor Gu company, but the consistency could use a little bit of vast improvement. It's kinda like squeezing a packet of cold blackberry flavored Neosporin or V05 in your mouth...and then trying to swallow it before you barf. But I will tell you, it works. I didn't get a energy burst or anything, but there was a noticeable loosening of my muscles. Muscles there were getting pretty up in my business about their opinion of said 10 mile run. I will also tell you, do not put said gel pack in the little zipped pocket on the waistband of your running pants because the storage pouch on your water bottle has your phone stuffed in it. The waistband of your pants is, you know, against your waist. Your hot, sweaty, has just run 5 miles in 70 degree sunshine waist. That gel shit is nasty without being body temp.
My weight, however, has not changed. At all. I can tell some of my fat has morphed into muscle, but that stupid red LED number hasn't moved. My rings are all loosey goosey and spinning now, so that's fun. I am really hoping for a jeans size change before the end of this. We shall see.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Screw mornings.
I had to drive to daycare this morning all contorted so I could hold Alex's hand. It was the only way he would stop sobbing that he wanted me to hold him. This was after he immediately started crying "I don't wanna go to schooooooool" when I said we had to leave. I just kept telling him I was sorry and I didn't want to go either. Didn't help. And then he cried and screamed as I was leaving daycare. Ya think the change of teacher is affecting him?
He likes the teacher he has now. She used to be his teacher and he has always really liked her. But she runs the room differently than his last teacher and apparently it is taking him some extra time to adjust. The part that kills me is every day when I pick him up, he comes running up and says, "I had GOOD day!" And when we leave he always says good-bye to his teacher and throws in a cheery, "See you 'morrow!" That part is slightly comforting...at least he isn't miserable all day long. But man mornings are really hard.
If you ever want your heart broken into a zillion pieces, force yourself to leave someone you love more than anything else you have ever encountered in your life to go work where you don't really want to be any way, while that someone is sobbing and reaching for you.
He likes the teacher he has now. She used to be his teacher and he has always really liked her. But she runs the room differently than his last teacher and apparently it is taking him some extra time to adjust. The part that kills me is every day when I pick him up, he comes running up and says, "I had GOOD day!" And when we leave he always says good-bye to his teacher and throws in a cheery, "See you 'morrow!" That part is slightly comforting...at least he isn't miserable all day long. But man mornings are really hard.
If you ever want your heart broken into a zillion pieces, force yourself to leave someone you love more than anything else you have ever encountered in your life to go work where you don't really want to be any way, while that someone is sobbing and reaching for you.
Monday, March 26, 2012
Sounds about right
I am a shining beacon of good parenting and role model behavior.
We were at my parents' yesterday. All of us, except Alex and Travis, were sitting at the dining room table. Alex came in from the living room to tell us we had to be quiet because Travis was "sleeping." My dad waited until Alex was juuuuust about back in the living room and then let out a very loud snort.
Alex came back in, looked at him, and said "Dammit Grandpa! He waked up!" Complete with a fist pump.
Not only could I in no way, shape or form claim that was not learned from me, I was also so stunned and then laughing so hard, I did nothing by way of reprimand. Until a couple minutes later, after I had stopped crying from laughing and told Alex that was not nice to say and he needed to apologize to Grandpa. 'Cause that'll learn him.
We were at my parents' yesterday. All of us, except Alex and Travis, were sitting at the dining room table. Alex came in from the living room to tell us we had to be quiet because Travis was "sleeping." My dad waited until Alex was juuuuust about back in the living room and then let out a very loud snort.
Alex came back in, looked at him, and said "Dammit Grandpa! He waked up!" Complete with a fist pump.
Not only could I in no way, shape or form claim that was not learned from me, I was also so stunned and then laughing so hard, I did nothing by way of reprimand. Until a couple minutes later, after I had stopped crying from laughing and told Alex that was not nice to say and he needed to apologize to Grandpa. 'Cause that'll learn him.
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Alligator
Alex's current favorite, read 14 times before I will contemplate laying down book is Oh My! Oh My! Oh Dinosaurs! by Sandra Boyton. It's a cute book and teaches opposites. Awesomesauce all around. One of the pages has a picture of about a dozen cartoon dinosaurs "crammed in an elevator." As previously mentioned, Alex is really into reading along. Every time we get to this page he says, "Dinosaurs crammed in a alligator." Each and every time. I love it and I never want to teach him the word elevator.
Heebie Jeebies
Yesterday's afternoon pick-up included a quiet conversation with Alex's teacher informing me they encountered multiple ticks on the playground that afternoon. Ick. Gross. Nast. Anywho, she did a quick check of the kids when they came in, but just wanted to let me know to maybe check him a little more thoroughly. I, of course, forgot.
We were outside playing/ripping out my daffodils because why could I ever have anything pretty, and I put my hand on the back of his head...and felt a weird bump. The earlier conversation came flooding back into my brain as I pushed his hair aside only to see a gross nasty little fat gross tick stuck in my baby's head. Bug head stuck in, gross little legs all squirmy. Yeah..I kinda freaked a little.
I did my best to hide my inner dialogue of "YUUUUUUUUCK!" and told him we needed to go inside and get Daddy's help. Travis was on the phone, most likely with someone work related, and I busted into the kitchen holding Alex football style and calm-loudly said, "Daddy, we have a T-I-C-K." His reaction was not immediate gagging so clearly he did not grasp what I was saying. So I just looked at him and said, "Like IN his head."
Apparently dabbing a little rubbing alcohol on the little bastards makes them back right out of MY BABY'S HEAD for easy removal. I watched the entire process from afar. While trying not to scratch off my skin and simultaneously barf. Ticks are so gross. They burrow. INTO YOUR BODY. They are so gross in fact, I am not even going to apologize for my assault on your eyes with blatant overuse of capital letters. SO. GROSS.
Anyway, a rubbing alcohol soaked Q-Tip and an Aim 'n Flame later, we were rid of the tick. Don't ask me about the whole burning the tick. That was all Trav. No clue.
We were outside playing/ripping out my daffodils because why could I ever have anything pretty, and I put my hand on the back of his head...and felt a weird bump. The earlier conversation came flooding back into my brain as I pushed his hair aside only to see a gross nasty little fat gross tick stuck in my baby's head. Bug head stuck in, gross little legs all squirmy. Yeah..I kinda freaked a little.
I did my best to hide my inner dialogue of "YUUUUUUUUCK!" and told him we needed to go inside and get Daddy's help. Travis was on the phone, most likely with someone work related, and I busted into the kitchen holding Alex football style and calm-loudly said, "Daddy, we have a T-I-C-K." His reaction was not immediate gagging so clearly he did not grasp what I was saying. So I just looked at him and said, "Like IN his head."
Apparently dabbing a little rubbing alcohol on the little bastards makes them back right out of MY BABY'S HEAD for easy removal. I watched the entire process from afar. While trying not to scratch off my skin and simultaneously barf. Ticks are so gross. They burrow. INTO YOUR BODY. They are so gross in fact, I am not even going to apologize for my assault on your eyes with blatant overuse of capital letters. SO. GROSS.
Anyway, a rubbing alcohol soaked Q-Tip and an Aim 'n Flame later, we were rid of the tick. Don't ask me about the whole burning the tick. That was all Trav. No clue.
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