And one thing led to another....

Well first, let me clarify.  There hasn't been A thing that has led to another thing in a while.  I love how movies like to cut short "love" scenes (I'll be less graphic here in my descriptions to save a certain mother's "virgin" ears..)  but narrating "and one thing led to another" as a couple fumble on the couch with sharp cut to scene couple wearing sheet over themselves with messy hair.

I was thinking the other night that, along with many changes children bring in our lives, another change is that there is no longer room for " and one thing led to another..."  One thing leads to another when nap time has been scheduled between a load of laundry put on, dryer running and the door locked, then one thing is scheduled to lead to another in plenty of time to finish the laundry and avoid being interrupted by a nap cut short.

Usually, now, one thing leads to another when I run to the mall for a quick half hour lunch break to pick up a pair of pants for my almost 4 year old, I happen to stop by the store that reads "today only 40% off" and find a gorgeous jacket, for the 40% off as described, my peripherals catch a glimpse of a fabulous pair of matching boots, that quite frankly, I've needed all season long and with this new jacket, it really sinches (sp?) the deal, and while waiting at the check out, I see a long sleeved t shirt I can't possibly live without in at least 3 different colors to be sure I am comfortable at all times, yet color coordinated.  And, one thing leads to another, my half hour lunch break has turned into a mini-half day 2.5 hour absence, and my visa bill is significantly larger than last month.

I'm fond of using the phrase when inexplicably behind deadline at work for something that should have taken half the amount of time planned.  "I was filling logs, then got caught in a deep conversation with the news director, had to leave for that lunch meeting (perhaps the above mentioned task?..) got caught in traffic and well, one thing led to another and here we are 3 weeks later and my one thing led to another line is pretty much all I've got."  Obviously, one is not impressed.  That line is very helpful, though it doesn't please my boss when describing my inability to complete tasks, or my husband when both trying to explain away why I haven't done an ounce of housework in 3 weeks, but managed to increase our monthly visa bill minimum payment by at least 20%.

Children, the price you have to pay for not having one thing lead to another anymore.  Or giving that phrase a whole new meaning and different set of applicable circumstances.  A small sacrifice, I remind myself that at almost 4, it is probably only 6 more years before my littlest man is itching to get out of his house and play at cooler friend's houses so that I'll once again have time on my hands for one thing to lead to another.  It's only a short term absence of that small amount of freedom that lead me to producing this particular freedom killing offspring. 

After all, one thing led to another and now I'm a parent and one thing doesn't ever lead to another anymore or at least, until there's nap time.

2.57

That's what I ran today in 28 degree weather.  Outside.

Dear Running, how I have missed thee, let me count the ways.  But not right now, I have some more gloating to do.

I haven't run since approximately November 5th.  Or earlier.  I can't remember it has been so long.  Due to the fact that Paul had been away and that it is getting dark at 4pm, and I don't have a gym membership, I can only run outside.  I have also used getting fat and being pregnant as my major excuse.

I exercised for almost 35 minutes and that was my run time.  Mostly because I had to walk a major leg of that run in tippy toe eggshell movements so not to break my arse on black ice and also because the first 400 meters or so I walked just in case I wanted to talk myself out of running, fat and pregnant, in 28 degree weather, outside in tighter-than-they-should-be running pants.  I didn't talk myself out of it, I walked .5 miles or so, then took that first glorious step, it was in slow motion, like I was taking those first long slow motion running leaps toward my long lost lover on the beach at sunset.  It was pure joy.

I listened to my "Running 101" soundtrack, ACDC, techno and a bunch of 90s and popular music I'd rather not list publicly so as not to ruin my "cooler than you" trademark reputation I have so carefully tried to build over the years....  I was pumped, I was actually doing this, running in the cold, attempting to get back out there, I was pumped and I'm still feeling pretty pumped about it.  I realize that this was almost like an adrenaline run, I was just so damn excited to get back out there that my run was like floating on clouds, leaping like a gazelle from one soft fluffy cloud to the next, that I understand any subsequential runs I choose to take in the near future, will be the more difficult ones. I am prepared.  This was too much enjoyment and  I missed it all too much to just stop it all together. I must get a gym membership, I must do something about it.  I must keep running.

I really think my pace was pretty good too, though I don't actually know, since I didn't have my stop watch to time the periods I actually was running, but it felt normal, not like where I was, but not like a 20 minute mile.

And just like the chocolate junkie I am, I can't wait to get my next running fix, I've just started coming down from this running high, I'm trying to figure out when I can get my next one.

Love it.

Chances are, that the odds are going to be good, are at about 60%

Playing the odds game.  Every single one of us does it everday, consciously or not.  Some play the lottery, very consciously, and the odds of winning are crazy low, but random people, everyday, do win, and win big.

Everyday I take a gamble, as I approach the stop light, do I change lanes and get behind the one big truck, or sit in my lane behind 5 cars?  I gamble which lane is going to get out of the gate faster to get me to work approximately 3.8 seconds faster than if I had chosen wrong.  This is a lame example, but I do this, almost subconsciously.  Why do I want to get to work faster?  I'm worried about being 5 more minutes over the 10 minutes I am already late everyday?  Really?

I've been encountering some very different odds lately.  It started with my low hCG levels (Remember, folks?  The Human gonad hormone?.. I'm obviously paraphrasing...)
Yes, it's going to be a pregnancy post, fellas, stick around...
Low enough for my doctor to order a follow up ultrasound and blood work.  Turned out to be nothing.. so far.  That happens to precisely 10% of women, 10% are NOT textbook cases and I was one of them.  10% of women just have low hCG levels when they start out (for no apparent reason) and end up with perfectly healthy babies.  That's me (again, I say, so far).  How lucky is that?

Joseph was born ON his due date, that happens to approximately 5% of pregnant women.  I was one of those too.  At these odds, I should play the lottery, and I think today I might just waste $5 bucks and do it. 

Playing these odds and winning isn't always how it turns out though.  This is the reason behind bad odds.  Chances are, if you have a 30% chance of living after being diagnosed with some sort of terrible cancer, 70% says you aren't going to make it.  Because, that's the history of previous cases.  But maybe, just sometimes,  the law of averages kicks in for a few lucky people and a few lucky people get to play such devastating odds, only to miraculously beat them, reign champion over them and throw up their middle finger in the face of all 30% chances everywhere.  F*$# you, 30%, f**k you.

In pregnancy, everything is played with odds.  Unless you married a nuclear physicist, chances are your kid is going to be of relative intelligence.  And those chances are really low, because, who's going to jump into bed with a nuclear physicist?  Do they even leave their uranium isotopes long enough to consider dating outside of nuclear fusion?  Those guys maintain a higher intellectual level than all of us at all times, so how awkward is that silence going to be on that date with that nuclear physicist?  This, is why smart guys with loads of money marry hot chicks with no brains.  Who needs a hot chick to talk?  Just stand there and let me look at you babe.  And here's a benjamin for standing there for so long.  Go buy yourself something sexy.  I bet those guys spend so much time operating their brains at alien space quantum level, that they are a real ambulance stretcher when it comes to the sack.  So chances are EVEN LOWER that smart kids are going to be born. 

Authors side note:  To all Nuclear Physicists, my opinion is meant in no way to diminish your much more important impact on the lives and stability of the future of all human beings everywhere, versus your lack of assumed sparkling grades in between the sheets.  I mean, rednecks with half a testicle, little to no brain cells reproduce everyday (sometimes several times a day, they just don't find out about it until the 200th episode of "Who's the baby Daddy?  This is my 10th attempt at finding the father" on Maury.)  And unfortunately it is THEM who reproduce and NOT the nuclear physicists which is exactly why our society is doomed.

Chances with most pregnancies that you play the odds, exhibit reasonably responsible behaviour while carrying another human that has absolutely no say in what you do or eat or drink.  And it will turn out ok.  That's always been my approach and really always will be.  This goes without saying that I will WebMD any slight suspicion I have of anything going awry with the baby, but I will try to remember my level headed statement and "woosah" myself out of a panic attack and leave my freak out session for a much less reasonable occasion, such as, when Price chooses to take out the garbage and I ignore that very manly and expected task and freak out in ballistic mode because I just dumped a paper towel in the garbage that doesn't IMMEDIATELY have a new liner in it.  Yes, I will choose my battles wisely and save my psychotic energy for my undeserving (mostly) husband.

It's all playing the odds as I see it.  Don't drink a fifth of tequila, shoot anything into your veins, snort a bunch of coke or really do anything just plain stupid and it'll be ok.  If it doesn't turn out exactly how you'd hoped, that's how playing the odds works.  So I might over do it on the chocolate mini eggs, I try to be good elsewhere.  Now, if my kid turns comes out looking like a chocolate baby, I've got a whole other set of problems I'm sure Price would need to talk to me about. 

BECAUSE OF THE MINI EGGS PEOPLE, THE CADBURY MINI EGGS.  Not because of anything else.  SHEESH.

The many uses of elastic hair bands

1) wrist accessory
2) reminder to do something when you get home, that you forget to do as you pull it off your wrist and tie up your annoyingly long hair.
3) 3D glasses tightner-contraption when the movie theater doesn't have kid sized 3D glasses, you improvise, pulling the glasses tighter together so that it attempts to stay on your child's head.
and let's not forget...

4) Waist band extender maximizer and mid region comfort friend.

It happened. Yesterday, 7:10am, December 1st. I put on my usually kind-of baggy fitting jeans to find that when the buttons were done up, it was considerably more painful than usual, more painful than, for example, right after I'd finished a chow down at my local Olive Garden that included more salad, a second serving of breadsticks, I'll tell you when and don't hold your breath on the romano cheese, you might want to get comfortable.. and dessert, kind of feeling.

10 weeks and I'm maximizing my waist comfort level. I panicked about how that was too early for such a thing, then thought back to my first pregnancy and calculated that, that happened, at about the same time then also. PHEW. Not so much more fatter this time...yet.

My co-worker, so generously pointed out, that it could also just be the 2 bags of recently (and joyously over delighted discovery!!!) consumed Christmas Mini Eggs that I'm eating each day. Yes, each day. Yes, Mini eggs at Christmas. I will save this most joyous discovery and elated feeling for another post. Cadbury mini eggs at least deserve that.

I've yet to go through my closet and do the dreaded "ok, so this doesn't fit anymore" song and dance where I end rocking myself back and forth facing a wall, crying screming in my head why I did this to myself, as Paul wonders if he should interrupt me or just cut to the chase and call the people with white jackets that live in the houses with padded walls. Usually cadbury mini eggs are delivered, and I manage to pull myself out of a close called, full blown psychosomatic lapse into emotional darkness. A little dramatic, yes, but you must understand how melodramatic a girl can be when faced with zero to none wardrobe options over the course of at least the next 10 months and a growing mid section that she KNOWS is inevitable.

Thank you Elle Magazine, Cosmopolitan and every commercial advertisment all over this planet that has forced me to continue my body image stresses into pregnancy when you are SUPPOSED to get fat. I am now going to surround myself with only pregnancy related images and I WILL not obsess and google photos of other women at the same stage of pregnancy as me and over analyze for hours if I look bigger than they do, all while eating cadbury mini eggs. Yes, more mini eggs. No, I'm not doing that exact thing right now at all... you can't see me right?

Ahem..

So now begins when I should embrace my "pooch" my "puffed mid section" and the continual growing of the human that will occupy a large part of my inside and manage to squish evey single one of my vital organs before it decides that, that, is not enough and it's time to come out and decide that very same thing out in the oxygen breathing world.

Now, to go home, and find my most comfortable stretchy pair of jeans, located in the depths of my plastic storage bins, complimented by a 4 inch wide snuggle like huggable elastic band, that I can sit on the couch in and continue to consume my body weight in Cadbury Christmas Mini Eggs.

16 red cars, roadkill and one shoe.

That's an average Louisville to my home trip and the sights that are seen. So much roadkill. And always, one white sneaker, I suspect always the right foot as well.

And 123 semi trailer trucks.

The B&J of the PB&Js said goodbye to our "P" at the airport and on our way home as I decided it was time for Joseph to grow his love of Ben Folds music, we both jammed to the LIVE CD and I couldn't help but notice how little there was to notice on our way home. Everything is brown and dusty dry from the lack of rain and it is unseasonably warm, so the only visual color was the red splash of cars and carcasses across the roads and the one white sneaker.

I always look for the lonely sneaker's partner. But I never see the left shoe.
And it's always just one sneaker.
Lone, shoelaces all spastic and awry, white and athletic. Who loses a single white sneaker? What was it doing or where was it at it's time of departure onto the rough interstate roads? Having NEVER lost a (one only) shoe, except that one time I had donated a less trendy pair of shoes to the local Goodwill and couldn't find both shoes of the pair so, donated one, then when I was to find the other I would donate it too, only that didn't happen for some time, so when I saw the other shoe I had forgotten that I had donated it's other half and started tearing apart my closet to empty and frantically find the pair of shoes that would ONLY go with what I was wearing and nothing else, thrashing around in tears until finally, I realized two days later that I had donated the one shoe some time ago, all by itself. Why did I donate just one shoe? I thought I'd find the next one in the next day, and then I'd drop it off in enough time for the shoes to be sold as a match. Not so.

Sorry, Goodwill, for being one of "those" donors. "Those" donors that give you old toasters with melted pop tarts still in them, underpants (I mean, really who wants those USED?) - "those" donors think someone does.. shudder, and of course one of "those" donors that leave behind one shoe and not the other along with along witha toilet lid ocover and matching mat (not I, I swear on that last one).

Does that one white sneaker belong to a particular sub class of drivers/passengers that I particularly despise? The ones that drive or ride with a leg/foot stuck all the way out their window as they cruise at 45MPH +, did it just fly off their right foot in the passing wind? Was it too late to pull over and get the shoe, was traffic too heavy to try to stop? Who drives/rides with a foot stuck all the way out a window? Don't you know what happens to a person strapped into their vehicle riding in the correct upright position with tray tables secured when their car flips and crashes with another? They get all mangled, and their stuff, ain't never the same. What do you think is going to happen to your ONE LEG? your ONE FOOT? and your ONE WHITE SNEAKER? that is hanging out the window as you enter the path of an oncoming vehicle or deer? It's going to get lost on the side of the road, and your stuff, particularly your right lower appendage, isn't ever going to be the same. (not to mention your junk) Didn't your mother ever tell you not to do that? NOT to look like a moron in public? Mine did. Not that it helped much, I still manage to look like a moron regularly in public, but not by doing stupid things like hanging my foot/leg out a driving car window, that one I listened to.

Put your leg back in your vehicle, or that one white sneaker is going to have a human foot stuck in it, and the EMT will be too busy trying to find your LEG that he'll forget all about your one white sneaker on the side of the interstate.

That's how they get there. Next time you see a single white sneaker on the side of the road, double check to make sure there isn't a foot inside. It could belong to that guy that used to ride in his cousins "not so street legal" redneck version of a monster truck.

Already lazy like me

The baby is in there, at 6 weeks, we saw the heartbeat and it's sitting all comfortable, folded up in it's little doughnut. The ultrasound showed everything is fine, my hCG levels are just low, like other 10% of pregnancies that result in a perfectly healthy baby (of course only time will tell on this - but it is encouraging).

Junior is just being lazy, not producing hCG levels like the popular kids. That's ok mate, you just stay in there where it's warm and cuddly and take your time cooking, I like being lazy, plus, it's getting cold out, so I totally understand. Nothing like being lazy and cuddling up sitting by a fire all day or watching the telly, or in your case, listening to my underwater heartbeat and the food pass through my stomach and out my intestines where I'm sure my farts to you, are like point blank Vuvuzelas in your yet formed ears.

Junior is officially at 6 weeks along, doing just fine. The refrigerator on the other hand, is not. As if perfect timing when Paul is 5 days away from leaving for India for a MONTH, the fridge is not working properly, the freezer isn't keeping anything frozen and the fridge is cold but not as cold as it should be. It's making a low level whurring sound also. Not good. I'll be storing some of my goods between my work, Paul's mum's house and I'm sure (thought I haven't asked yet) Brad and Andrea's until we figure out the solution.

New fridge? Or fixable? I hope fixable. Even just 6 months would buy us some time and some money... but as I know how these things go, as they always do, it will be Hail Mary time and if that doesn't work out, it'll be time to drain money from somewhere. And by somewhere I mean, I have no idea where.

You know what, I'm just going to assume that something is going to happen to one of our cars so that I can once again, this year focus on money draining for Christmas, overseas visitors, trips and more things to FIX. ugh.

Junior is well though and so am I. That's good news. And it's Friday and I got paid today.

Human chorionic gonadotropin

That's the hormone that currently has my OB ordering an ultrasound, after two rounds of blood tests to see that everything is ok. It's funny, because in frantically searching the interwebs this afternoon, I read the non abbreviated version of hCG as "Human Chronic Gonads", or at least that's what it looked like to me at first glance.. go on, take another look at the words... there... you see it too eh? gonads... heh

So my levels are at 7,000 and the nurse said they'd usually like them to be at around 11,000 (according to how far along they and I say I am). Searching the internet sites showed me that I was perfectly within normal range at approximately 5 weeks. In fact, normal range at 5 weeks is up to approximately 7,380 hCG, so unless I told the OB the wrong date of my last period, or she wrote it down wrong, at first glance this all of a sudden ultrasound doesn't seem too bad.

Thank god for information overload on the intertubes, because not only could my "low levels of hcg" (and let's be clear, the nurse never said they were low, that was just IMPLIED) 7,000 hCG could mean:
1) nothing.
2) possible ectopic pregnancy or blighted ovum.
3) low levels, mean low levels and just monitor to make sure they rise throughout.
4) predictable miscarriage.
5) its a tumor.

Good news is that I'm not having any symptoms as all the forums describe, no spotting or bleeding, so that is a positive sign. BUT (there is always a BUT) I am having sharp pains if I turn suddenly, stand suddenly, cough or sneeze (sometimes). Not sure what the hell that could be - the tumor possibly?

Turns out hCG is also produced by some kinds of tumor. The tumor moved to my uterus, great. For those of you that don't know my severe hypochondria that has sensibly declined since it's hey days of high school, I used to (and still on occasion) think that I had a tumor. I had a headache, it was a tumor, I had pain, it was a tumor, I got a bump (from falling over drunk, but because I was drunk I had promptly forgot) and thought it was a tumor. This time it really could be, I COULD be producing some kind of freaky disease that produces the pregnancy hormone and I've got tumor and not a kid. Thank you wikipedia, I hate you. Scary thoughts. I am now sitting here over analyzing everything little thing about me, I do feel extra tired, my left side kinda hurts, my right knee has a weird twing to it, my skin feels extra dry...

I could sit here and let my thoughts drive me from the couch to padded walls, but I must be calm and let them figure it out tomorrow. SO tomorrow I do the ultrasound at 8:30am and they are going to see a sac or not, see a sac with something in it, or not, or see something else. And the else could be the tumor or the baby. So I will just have to wait and see, I definitely need that block of cadbury chocolate I KNOW Paul has hidden in the house somewhere. I get to pull the "I might have a tumor" card and get me some chocolate. I think I deserve it. Don't you?
Tumor card is on the table.
Husband is fetching chocolate.

Food Baby

I've always suffered from what I've affectionately referred to as my "food baby". It's when I eat just enough of anything that a 3 month "pooch" appears until I've worked or slept it off. It appears right after hearty lunch and stays with me until I put my pajama pants on and stare endlessly at the mirror wondering what is worse, my muffin top or my food baby, then I imagine how it will look when actually pregnant, actual baby, muffin top.

My muffin top disappeared with Joseph, that's because it was just stretching around my baby belly, not because it went away, it was still there, just stretched out. I'm just over a month pregnant and my 3 month food baby has appeared. Looks like my body is settling into pregnancy early and getting me used to the idea of being fatter for longer, second time around. I'd like to embrace this food baby or "preggo pooch", but, I didn't even have a bump first time until I was like 4-5 months pregnant. Now, I look 4 months and I'm just over 4 weeks. Let it go, Rebecca, let it go.

Still not suffering from any REAL pregnancy symptoms, no sickness, just gas (though that could have been the 3 bowls of chili I ate last night). It still doesnt' seem real, I wonder when it will, probably at the 12 week ultrasound appointment. But probably not then either, probably more like when I start puking or when I get fat.

Not much to report about pregnancy at this point, I know that I am, mostly everyone knows and the doctor said I was. SO I'm going to think about everything that will arrive all too quickly and what I'm most eagerly anticipating.

I'm looking forward to:

• My hair growing fast and long and thick, hopefully along with some stronger nails.
• Starting prenatal yoga and getting regular massages (like once a month) HINT HINT PAUL...and not the doting husband kind of massages, no offense honey, (still want those) but the SVEN kind of massages under a warm blanket at a massage therapy center that smells of beautiful oils and aromas.
• Swimming while hugely pregnant.
• Joseph seeing Junior for the first time. (I got tired of referring to the imminent baby as "your little brother or sister" all the time, so I asked Joseph what we could call the baby until we know what it is - we called Joseph Agador Spartacus, we knew he was going to be a boy and that name cracked us up, because we didnt' decide on Joseph's real name until 20 minutes after he was born. Joseph replied "...Junior." Junior it is.)

5 weeks in and 35 to go.

Those damn two pink lines and uterine terrorists.

I felt pukey this morning, but didn't. I'm just WAITING for the puke to happen, last time it happened from week 9-26 as I recall and I threw up during labor while pushing. (Though, that could have been the strawberry lollipop my big step sis slid me after begging her for food). This is why they tell you not to eat all day on the day you push, because, YOU WILL THROW IT UP. I did.

I've been feeling fine, but wondering when I should let people know. I'm not one of those "YAY! I'm having a baby, everyone celebrate along with me!" Glowing cheeks etc... millions of women do this every day, I'm no different. I just hope for an eventless pregnancy that's all. SO knowing I don't want a big show or make a big deal, it's hard to tell people, especially at work. I'm also not worried about the first trimester rule, I'm a pretty open book (one of my many flaws in life) so if I go through a miscarriage, I don't want it to be some big secret or gossipy thing amongst anyone if I have to miss a few days of work. Hey, I'm preggo, seems like a good way to tell people and of course putting it on FACEBOOK, so the WORLD CAN KNOW. I don't like to give too many personal details on facebook, but this social network is the only reason some family members know Joseph is as cute as he is and Paul and I are still married. So facebook is a good way to get out the message, as uncouth as it may seem to me, to be.

I also haven't had my "second opinion", I mean, all that has confirmed that I AM pregnant is that First Response test and those damn two pink lines. I had my doctor appointment today, apparently since I had my last kid, where you call after your positive test result and the nurse says "congratulations, we'll see you in eight weeks" Isn't the case anymore, they want to see you right away to get you information, bill your insurance, make a profit and fund those bigger hospitals that will mostly likely still have hot water issues in their post partum units. Nothing makes a woman, who has just squeezed out a baby, more crazy, than a dreamy lustful hot shower (alone) after the whole labor and delivery process and then to find out hot water is not available.

At the doc's office today, I peed in a cup and FORGOT to write my name on the cup label BEFORE I peed (again) and must remember next time to write my name on my pee cup label before I put in my steaming sample, nothing is more awkward than trying to scrawl your name on a label whilst tenderly holding a cup that could spill over at any moment and I'd be dealing with, well, a mess of piss and no one wants that.

Write on the pee cup label BEFORE, you pee in it, yes before. Logged.

So they also took my blood and my doctor did a pelvic check, what a lunch break people! I showed up, got my weight checked, peed in a cup, they took my blood (and not in the cool sexy vampire way) and did a pelvic exam.. now if only I got a free drink with that combo meal, I might have felt like it was a good deal. But NO ONE told me I was pregnant. I mean, the doctor or the nurse never said "well, you were right, you are knocked up!" No one CONFIRMED it, so I sit here and wonder if I just missed my period because of all the stress at work and those two pink lines (that I took two times) are an indication of some scary cancer disease that produces the same hormone you produce when pregnant that gives you a positive result, and my news is not that I'm carrying my second offspring, but that I'm harboring a uterine terrorist.

A uterine terrorist that could be withholding information on WMDs. Then, my doc, (whom I totally love btw and my female visits are always filled with chuckles and jokes) says "you've put on weight since last I saw you"... I like to think of myself as pretty laid back about a lot of female issues (though my husband who watches me stare at myself every morning and grab my muffin top fat and say nasty things to myself as well as give myself the evil eye over all my cellulite and millions of imperfections, would disagree) I take my Doc's comment in stride and tell her I've been running a TON and when she hears that, she is slightly concerned that I'm not skinner than I am, and they are checking out my thyroid.

I explain that I continue to eat like total shit and am basically a garbage disposal for anything with strong family ties to chocolate, but still she wants to check my thyroid. So now I have:

1) A Uterine Terrorist, possibly hiding WMDs
and
2) A thyroid disorder that is keeping me fat.

When really:
1) I'm knocked up
and
2) I'm just a fatty. I've hit the big 3-0 and I no longer care. I'm married and like to drink and don't mind over-indulging at least twice a day.

There's junk in the trunk, if my ass was my front.

Knocked Up.
Bun in the oven.
Pea in the pod.
Preggo.
A bump in the front.
Up the duff.

However you say it, it means I get to stop sucking in my gut for at least 9 months and let whatever hang out, hang out. I have a legit excuse. Hopefully though, I won't "look" preggers until at least 5 months, I mean, two months along and people start asking? I should have re-thought that third boston creme donut from Dunkin' (and by third, I mean fifth).

I don't care how much you plan for a baby, it still comes as a "shock" or "surprise" when that test comes back with two lines instead of one. "Test results are visible after 3 minutes". Bullshit. They are visible right away, you can see that first little pink line start appearing as soon as you've run out of pee. How gross is that test? Of course I put the cap back on the stick part after I've peed on it, but that cap goes on and you can see the wet stick and the condensation on the cap, it is so gross. TMI I know, but these are the things that freak me out. C'mon.

For me, or rather us, (there was definitely two in this tango), this is our second and I feel more confident about what I'm in for this time. I had planned a summer baby for the second time around. Why? What is my logic in this seemingly planned and thought out..plan? I want to have a pool party for a birthday party and inflatables outside in the sun. Yes, my whole reason behind a summer baby, better parties. Go on, judge me, but I know you'd rather go to a pool party then get on your six layers and walk out in the snow to arrive at some enclosed gymnasium and enjoy some claustrophobic fun with ten 3 year olds in a crammed party facility. I would. Plus, who doesn't like the idea of pina coladas at a baby birthday party in the sunshine? NOT I.

I sit here, with all the world's thoughts streaming at warp speed through my mind, what was I thinking? How can we afford another one? What am I going to do with work? My first one is so awesome, how can the second one compare? I hope I havent' screwed it up by having another one..... Will my first one freak out? Do they have cute bathing suits for heavily pregnant women who don't want to look like houses in their 8th month? Am I going to get fatter than before? Am I really pregnant? Has it really only been a few weeks without a drink, how much longer again? My boobs hurt, how much bigger are they going to get? How long can I hide this at work before I have to start wearing a sign or an arrow pointed at my belly "I have the golden ticket". (Best white trash pregnancy top ever, thank you Britney Spears). When should I tell my boss? When should I tell my employees?

Most importantly, when does the puking start? I am anticipating this one, and not looking forward to the sleepless nights and hung over feeling at work, it leaves me with.

All of these are pretty lame worries I know, I do have more substantial worries and fears, but I usually override those with my immature brain and focus on where I can start a new registry and the quickest cheapest way to get deals and freebies for newly pregnant parents.

I wonder when I can pull the preggo card for the first time, knowing that I have at least a full hand of these cards, I don't want to hand them all out at once, but rather hold on to them for desperate moments, or in my case, exceptionally lazy moments when I'd rather not move in comparison to doing anything else.

Whatever we have it is going to be a surprise. Much to the dismayal of my friends and family, I don't want to find out, until it is OUT. Yes, we are screwed if we have a girl, but I can always buy clothes later. Joseph wants a baby brother and he is going to name him "Plex". Of course he is. I do find this very cool of him though, because he just LOVES Plex and anything that he would bestow that name upon or associate it with is coolness, so this to me means that Joseph is excited and has already decided that his baby brother is going to be cool. If it's a girl, I don't know what he'll say.

I look forward to blogging about all the weird and wonderful things that pregnancy and post pregnancy does to my brain and how I have a legit excuse for these crazy thoughts. Legit? Well, at least an excuse. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

3 weeks down, only 37 more to go. Go Team Baby P!

I like Kung Fu.

I like Kung Fu, I like it a lot more than anyone realizes. I used to have "Kung Fu Friday's" and watch Kung Fu movies (all of course in Mandarin Chinese with only English subtitles on). If you are going to be a good young grasshopper, to get the true meaning of Kung Fu movies one can only watch and listen in true Mandarin, but in turn, through training, you will hear the meaning. (Yes, that was my deepest Kung Fu Master impression..., you're welcome). The part in "Office Space" which is rather like a documentary than a movie, where Jennifer Aniston says she likes Kung Fu, I was pissed, because I LIKE KUNG FU. Nobody THAT cute likes Kung Fu, chicks about my average looks like Kung fu, don't ruin it for the rest of us, Brad dumped you, so don't get ahead of yourself there sweety.

I want to reinstate Kung Fu Fridays. I don't walk around with nunchucks or keep a ridiculously long sword above my mantle that I would have no idea how to use, unless my intention was to wield it mercilessly around the room while I destroyed everything within my wingspan. Nor do I have a Kimono (I know it's Japanese) or have a black belt in anything (other than kicking your mom's ass). But I like Kung Fu and I have skillz, but none that gangs want me for.

I LOVE fight scenes, especially lengthy, extended, multiple angle, slow mo fight scenes. I love things that go BOOM in the night, which probably explains my absolute giddy enjoyment at the thought of watching ANY of the "Die Hard" movies. But I like Kung Fu fight scenes. These are violent and lengthy, not ever a lot of blood, but a lot of kicking arse. It is over love, respect and honor. It's outcome is to learn a lesson in life and meaning, put perspective on what is important and to achieve a goal. Kung Fu movies are deep, but still kick a lot of arse.

There (thankfully for you) isn't a lot more to SAY about Kung Fu movies, they are a different breed of cinematic entertainment and I miss my Friday's that involved them. What have I been doing on Friday's where I haven't had time to watch a Kung Fu movie? Who knows, I'm not even sure what I had for lunch today... But like any young grasshopper that has lost her way, she will return to her master and redeem herself in his eyes and bow down before the century old techniques that once led her to the wise and elegant ways of Kung Fu, young grasshopper will redeem her family's honor and return to Kung Fu movies on Friday's.

"Like many things - I am nothing" - Li Mu Bai.

Deep Thoughts by Rebecca L. Price... while running.

What in the hell do runners think about while running? Especially those long runs? I often credit myself with not liking to let my thoughts run wild because I am not sure where they will lead me, but even as I try to distract my mind with the occasional Lady Ga Ga and some ACDC I still find myself drifting away in thought, whilst simultaneously trying to push myself to keep going.



Here is what I think about whilst running, again, Deep Thoughts by Rebecca L. Price:



1) Hills eternally suck. I'm told by people "they get better with time and practice" I don't care, I could be a satisfied running never having to run at any kind of inclining angle ever again.



2) The sky is beautiful. It was pink and purple the other night, it was quite brilliant and usually is, even if it is raining on me, the sky is magnificient. I also wonder, how in the hell people once thought the world is flat? It definitely CURVES at the horizon. Maybe it's just because I KNOW that now though.



3) If you're going to spit, do it in people's "bonus yard". That's the yard that is closest to the curb, separated by usually the sidewalk. The bonus yard is the part of the yard that homeowners begrudgingly keep mowed because of homeowners association, but do nothing other than hold trash cans once a week and provide permanent placment for mailboxes. I've found that homeowners give you less of a shirty look if you spit or hock a loogey in that direction, versus the direction of their prized 30 year mortgage payment or carefully manicured yard.

4) Running is NOT for the self conscious. I look my worst when running, I'm sure, my face winces in pain as I climb that hill in micro stride all bent over, the sweat makes my hair curl up around my face, the sweat, all the bugs that stick to my neck and chest as I run... And there's nothing like looking at your shadow and seeing your thighs flap in the wind. Fashionistas say black makes you look skinnier, considering my shadow is ALL BLACK, couldn't my shadow at least pretend?!?!?

5) Kids laugh at you. Wondering why the hell you are running and all sweaty, adults are so weird. Don't worry little child, let me know how almost 30 is treating you in twenty years, maybe you've just entirely let yourself go watching another spin off of Tyler Brown's something or other and his cross dressing phenomenon.

6) Am I going to make it? Every. Single. Run. I think this. Twenty times.

7) Smile at people on your runs, especially when on foreign turf in another city. When you've finally met your demise as you have long suspected in your head and this run "does finally kill me", you want the elderly passer bys to come back across your cold dead body and feel sympathy and immediately help you as the "friendly young girl who ran passed me and smiled not too long ago" maybe they'll call 911 quicker.

8) ANYONE smoking a cigarette whilst walking outdoors makes me want to vomit whenI run through it. I've just run probably about 6 miles and am on my way home and I run through a cloud of smoke, no I will not turn to vomit in the bonus yard, I will turn to vomit ON YOU.

9) When I see no one around and "Shoot to Thrill" or "back in Black" comes on, I want to just slam on the brakes and break out in air guitar, heavy rock star style, while no one is watching, in the middle of my trail. Then innocently return to my run. No one saw that right?

10) I'm jealous of runners that have a dog as their partner. I'm lucky I MAKE time to fit in a run, how did they get time to train a well behaved dog that doesn't want to constantly cross your path and make you fall on your face? They also probably live in a bigger house. Bastards.

11) The guy that seemlessly passed me at warp speed on my run has probably just started. He isn't on his 7th mile, he's obviously on his first. riiight.

12) ACDC is great to listen to while running.

13) Sports bras are so wonderful.

14) Am I going to make it?

15) The smell of grilling burgers on an afternoon run is just brutal. Totally brutal.

16) How close to I get to passing this person before I look at them and nod my head in acknowledgment? 5 yards? 20 feet? Avoid eye contact until the last minute, you don't want to stare at them like a weirdo, put on your focused runner face and nod and smile just as you pass arms. There, that should do it. Way to bring your social awkwardness into a run. Way to go.

17) Thank god "Bust a Move" just came on, I needed that extra push. Young M.C. you are a godsend.

18) Why did FOX cancel Firefly?

19) I do not want to get up tomorrow and go to work.

20) Am I hungry or is that a cramp? Oh god I hope it isn't a cramp. I'm hungry, no wait... when did I eat last? I should't have had three milky ways from the vending machine. again.


Deep thoughts. Not very.

The Mini Van Corral

I'm a soccer mom, drive my kid to school everyday mom (and pick him up), packing lunch with vegemite sandwiches and a freddo frog surprise mom.

I'm also mom to one of the most laid back, coolest kids around. We have some friends with pretty cool kids themselves, but I'm sure you understand, I've got a favorite and he's mine. Every morning at Joseph's request, we have listened to CAKE 'The Distance" which Joseph calls "The Distance and The Speed Song" and then "I will survive" by CAKE. He loves them both. And we can't just "listen" to them, we have to "turn it loud mommy!!" which I do, and Joseph mouths along the words and stares out the window as the early morning passes him by and he whispers "no trophy, no flowers, no flashbulbs, no lines....".... he's going THE DISTANCE!

I re-introduced him to JET "Put your money where your mouth is" song this morning, I say "re-introduced" because this was a favorite of mine/his when I was carrying him around all day, on the inside. I'd put this song on, and he'd start rocking out in my belly. Needless to say, "put your money" is now on our favorites playlist that is rapidly growing to be one of the rockin' collections ever put together by a 3 year old.

We pull into the street where the mini van corral begins and I slowly turn down the music, Joseph doesn't protest because he knows we are near school, which is just freakin loves and he sits so far forward in his booster that I think he is going to pop his 5 way harness and get smushed against the windshield at 5MPH in an effort to get just that LITTLE bit closer to seeing all the action that is going on outside his school before we go in.

It's like a buffet of parent approved transportation. The main course, is of course, the mini van. Toyota, Mazda, Toyota, Ford, Muranos (not a mini van, but cooler extension of such). Mine is only one of a handful, a sprinkling, of four door sedans. There are of course the parents in the mini SUVs that haven't quite yet made it to swallowing that big lump in their throat and turning the key in a mini van, but they are so close, I lump them in that group. As Pre-K parents we get to pull in and park and take our kids into the school, into their classrooms, getting in one to three more last kisses and hugs before they catch a glimpse of their friends and happily skip off to spend the day not thinking about us. Which is ironic, I catch myself spending a serious amount of time thinking about what Joseph does all day, if he is eating his lunch, talking with other kids, being shy or having a fun time. The mini van corral continues around the parking lot, Joseph and I dodge the slowly moving cattle, err, mini vans, as they drop off their precious cargo in the hands of the teacher on duty in the receiving line that morning, and shuttle them into the gymnasium where from there, the kids are on their own and are expected to turn up in their classrooms.

The brakes on the vans moan like cattle not really wanting to move, but need to be shuttled to the exit so that other kids can be dropped off. Some of the parents make small talk to the teacher on the receving line as if trying to delay the inevitable. The teacher gets the kid(s) and simultaneously shuts the door to the van and waves the next one along. Their smile is the substitue for the cowboy whip cracking, the parents looking back and waving resembles the reluctance of the cattle to move through the gate. The exit gate.

The first day of school was fantastic. Joseph was excited for exactly 2 months, 8 days and 23 hours when I told him he was going to start preschool everyday up until the first day, "I want to go to preschool now". I now realize why parents don't tell their kids about going to Disneyland until they are at the ticket gate. You just don't want to hear about it for weeks beforehand. We picked out the outfit the night before, laid out the clothes and I prepared him a special "first day of preschool present". Joseph has been a tremendous sport every morning. We never did what everyone told us to do "go to bed 10 minutes earlier each night for 2 weeks until you are going to bed at the right time, so you can get up earlier. We just went to bed, and every morning Joseph has been sleepy eyed, heavy head and limbs like a raggady Anne doll, but the very mention of going to school that morning and it's instant chatter about oatmeal, cereal or toast, what shoes he is going to wear and what toys he can't, but wants to take to school that day to show Mrs Jacob. He's a champ.

I didn't cry either, in fact, that never crossed my mind, I think I was as equally as excited about the first day of school as Joseph was/is. I did the fake sniffle and looked at Paul "he is all grows up" with my eyebrows raised and my forehead ruffled, honestly I think Paul was a little more sniffly than I was, but he kept it under wraps pretty well. Paul and I chatted all the way to work about what Joseph would do that do, when we could pick him up and how we thought he was going to do. Then we were silent, I think we both imagined how his day would play out in his classroom, eating lunch and playing outside, how happy he would be to see us in the afternoon to pick him up. Or then again, Paul could have been micro sleeping, he hasn't had to get up that early for work or school and I think his brain might have been haemorraghing as the thought of actually being at work before 9am without coffee in hand, hit him.

Yesterday I picked him up from the play yard outside and he was trying to get the attention of a very pretty little girl, whom he later introduced to me as, Sophia. She is "very pretty", I said, Joseph replied, "No she isn't mommy, she is very cool." He kept trying to get her attention to get her to come home with us to play at our house, she seemed pretty disinterested, but gave Joseph enough attention that he was still eager to pursue. Get use to it Joseph, this is where it all starts. He was so interested in her and kept insisting that she is "so cool" that I was able to use her name as an extra incentive to get dressed this morning as I nagged Joseph four or five times to get dressed, while he stalled in imaginative play. I'd bring him back to reality "Don't you want to see Sophia? You can't see her if you aren't dressed!" "Ok, ok, ok ok, Mommy!"

Joseph described Sophia to grandma on a phonecall last night, "she's a FOX", I about dropped when I heard him say that, did Paul teach him that, where did he learn that, OMG!? Then I quickly realized when I picked up Joseph she was wearing a headband that had "fox" ears on it, "yes," siad Joseph, "yes she was a fox, like a wolf, Sophia is a wolf". Ohhhhhh, Oooook. That was funny. It was another word/phrase/bad habit I thought his daddy had taught him, how quickly Joseph has pikced up on bad terminology used by his father and relayed it for everyone, in the most appropriate, yet in appropriate of circumstances. I'm just WAITING for the day, Joseph gets in front of his classroom, trys to make them laugh, rolls over, hits the floor and exlaims "oh I hurt my balls!" Like he does everywhere else and has, unfortunately taught Jake to say as well, sorry Andrea, but I did say you can blame Paul for that one. Joseph has already smacked me on the butt as he walks by, because he has seen Paul do that. Awesome, I gotta get this kid some class.

Joseph looks nothing like me, but is just like me. He will do anything, almost anything to get a laugh out of someone. When all else fails, or you just aren't sure, try laughter, that usually works. To a 3 year old, this is physical humor, like rolling over, pretenting to hurt yourself or run around or say crazy words together like "peanut butter pants!" or "diaper change head". He thinks he is so hilarious, and he is pretty funny, for a 3 year old. I always and still do, try to make fun out of everything. Even when it is probably inappropriate, sorry kids, I just don't know any other way, I tried maturity and it turns out, that wasn't for me. So if you know of someone that has colon cancer and might have to get a colostomy bag, don't tell me, because I'm sure to say something like "well the worst thing about a colostomy bag is trying to find shoes that match." ba-da-ching! Joseph has this exact same trait. I've learned to keep it under wraps in most appropriate circumstances, so I hope he can do the same. If you are reading this and don't think that I do, well then imagine how much MORE worse I could be.

At 3, Joseph has a sense of humor, sense of taste in music, sense of surroundings and feelings and a great attitude. I just hope that when he turns into the puberty inducing doppleganger of a child I once knew, that he still maintains these traits and once he overcomes that pimply evil teenage years, he comes out of it stronger and more self assured in the beautiful (sorry Joseph, I mean COOL) personality traits he has had since he was just a half baked baby swimming in amniotic fluid.

You know what really grinds my gears??

The Today Show. Matt Lauer IS glib. Don't get me wrong, Tom Cruise is 10 kinds of Scientology crazy, but Matt Lauer is a problem. Thank god he doesn't have a full head of hair, can you just IMAGINE how obnoxiously cocky this guy would be WITH a full head of hair?!? He is already so obviously self righteous and thinks he's so intellectually suprerior than all of his interviewees, you'd think that being so follicically challegend, that would mean a man to be a little less self assured, but in his case, his lack of hair only makes him totally obnoxious. A perfectly combed coiff, add a little salt and pepper to taste and Matt Lauer would need most televisions to be more than 16x9 in order to fit his ginormous head in.

Between Minnie Driver's GINORMOUS chisled chin and Matt Lauer's ego, TV screens are just an ugly step sister trying to fit in Cindy's shoes.

I mean really, what is this "Manhattan Island" that makes EVERYONE on this show, including producers (who write this whole thing) think everything that goes on there is the ONLY place where things go on? My FAVORITE episode, has had to have been where the Today Show Team "Go Green" by carpooling their limo service at, boo hoo, 5am to be ready to sit in a make up chair while hard working producers hand them scripts for a show and someone plugs in their IFB device (they probably don't even put them in their own ears). Carpooling a limo service? Amm, take a bus people, take the subway. I myself have been to 30 rock and know several train terminals around that area. Oh what was that Matt? Did you say you couldn't possibly go "underground" because that would be stooping below celebrity status? Well going green ain't pretty, and if you do it right, it isn't green at all, it's kind of stinky and more of a brown color.

Freaking today show, New York is NOT the center of the country or the World, but GOD FORBID don't tell anyone in New York that, they'd probably die of a trend setting mochachino, followed by the usual two finger dessert and Cedars Sinai approved coronary, while dressed to the 9s in their Jimmy Choo shoes (or whatever the fuck is in season this second) and DKNY 3 piece suit and mock vest or crappy themed outfit this fashion designers have these rich women swiping credit cards like 3 year old does at the check out line in true 5 finger discount style. Their last thoughts would have been "Did I look very Jackie-O in my sunglasses, oh dear I hope the maid remembers to dress me in my prada coat for the open casket and that funeral director KNOWS to put only MAX Factor make up, because that was STRICLY stated in my funeral wishes...."

No wonder children grow up to think that they are the center of the world and everyone lives in New York. I've been there, three times, and it's dirty, people are cranky because it's dirty and nobody knows how to drive, only the hired help, because cabbies there, are from another planet and they certainly don't know how to drive. Every cabbie there must have a terminal disease because driving like a maniac over pot holes that lead to the hell with a stop off in the subway at 42nd street, definitely calls for a background in murder-suicide plotting.

Could the Today Show cover any more topics that oculdpossibly be any less associated with ANYONE located under the household income of $500,000 a year? I think not. Here is how a editoral meeting goes at the Today Show.
Producer: "Let's do a segment on multi-tasking.." Anne/Matt: What's multi-tasking?" Producer: "Well, Matt, and by the way I must say that you look particularly sharp this morning and that recent trip tot he manicurist for some manscaping has done wonders for the smart business look you are giong for, no I'm not hitting on you, it's just a compliment because everyone knows talent like you need a good self esteem boost in the morning along with their espresso to work up the gumption to pucker up that smile on tv in your white collar job, while all the blue collar and brown collar job folk are getting ready to go to work outdoors or not even wathcing because THEY HATE YOU." "Multi-tasking is when you hold your script in your hands at the side interview set and you think about what question you are going to ask next while the interviewee talks and you try not to look like you are so dissinterested that you want to cram pencils up your nose until they pierce your brain and you pass out".
Anne (obviously realizing that the producer is particularly snarky this morning) "Matt, it's what your housekeeper does. You know, dishes and wiping the sink at the same time, stuff like that, hold on I've got to get on Twitter on my Blackberry so I can tell everyone what I am doing right now."

I really could go on, but even this is killing me, just to talk about it. I still tune in everyday though, just to see how more wrong this show could possibly go with quality interviews such as Dina Lohan and segments on organizing your shoes.
But I do watch, I do tune in that show.
I am a function of ratings and share, sam I am.

Bugs swallowed; 3 Miles ran; 3.6 Minutes; 36:11

Looks like I'm running a 10 minute mile. This is my second approach on trying to really "run" a 5K. I consciously tried, throughout my run, when I hit flat or down spots to push my stride longer, faster... I thought I'd drastically improve my time, but I guess not so. I'm aiming for a 5K in 30:00 that'd be nice. T minus 1 week and counting until the midsummer night's run. I run this hill (I've talked about before) smack in the middle of my run and it really slows me down, it is just killer running up that hill, I know I am half bent over trying to run/jog up that hill, then it takes me a full 3minutes to recover from that. Bugger that hill.

Who'da thunk that trying to shave 3 minutes from your 5K could be so hard?!? In every run now it goes through my head "if you don't feel like puking after your run, you haven't pushed yourself hard enough". That is something I read on an artice from active.com or the Couch to 5K plan facebook page.. not sure where but it is a good reminder of how hard I should be pushing myself. I'm also working on self correcting my stride, my right leg seems to be improving, my knee hurting not so much, but I still have problems in my right leg. If I get serious about doing a 10K or half marathon, I'll definitely be going to John's run walk to get everything evaluated...

Marriage is less like TV and more like farts and morning breath.

I had the usual task of executing some unusual marketing craziness for my job recently. I got to coordinate a giveaway and a proposal both on the air and in person with a bachelor and an unsuspecting bachelorette. Enough to cause concern, if she were to find out previous to the event, of an affair, secret emails, secret phone calls and before the big proposal, a secret meeting in the kitchen. This proposal went off without a hitch and the couple are fantastic, adorable and sweet people, though I had to endure 45 minutes of ABC's "The Bachelorette" which I NEVER watch, in order to help this event go off. I watched with a younger, more attrtactive co-worker, who is not yet married, in a relationship or not, serious or not, I had no idea. But that didn't stop me from being incredibly blunt about the black and white differences between a relationship, especially a relationship on TV and marriage. I'm not sure I've encouraged her towards a path that leads closer to the aisle, I might have just done the complete opposite. My goal is not to influence people in the least bit, I really have no goal, only to just say how it is, for me. Not for anyone else, but just for me.

Never is it ok to date several guys at once, let's be clear, I did do this, but it is still socially frowned upon. But not on TV. The bachelorette got to full on make out with several guys at once, have a hot and heated session in the hot tub, only to cuddle up with someone else completely different and equally as good looking later that night. Unacceptable in real life, acceptable on TV. Amazing. Sometimes you just don't know what you want, it's gotta be nice to try to figure that out, all in one day... but only on TV.

Marriage is less like what you see in TV and on the movies and more like farts and morning breath. I often wish I had enough motivation to get up earlier and put on make up, do my hair, exercise and just generally try to be better looking, then I realize that isn't really me, though I'd like to think I could do that if I REALLY wanted. Movies and TV make marriage look like the pits, it dresses it up for the screen, then when it comes down to real life, it is largely about body odors that used to be covered up and nakedness that doesn't immediately trigger a turn on.

I'm not talking about LOVE here, I'm talking about marriage. I'm not going to get all deep about the different facets of love, but rather the facts of marriage. Two people, until death do you part. First, the farts. There are lots of them. Maybe we should start taking Beano or something, so there will "Be no gas", or at least leave the room. Gone are the days of covering up the sounds, and being embarrassed over the level of toxicity in the air. It's down to "Mommy did it" or, "it was the dog" with no attempt to try to justify that bold face lie, considering the dog was outside the house at the time. Everyone poops, everyone farts. I'm less worried about impressing Paul with my lack of lady like farting and more concerned about missing a hilarious Stewie quote from an episode of Family Guy I've watched twenty times.

Priorities people, this is what they are in marriage. Did I burst that bubble for you? awww, no I didn't becuase you are just as glassy eyed as I was before I was married and no one or nothing could sway you otherwise, I know who you are, I used to be you. Enjoy it while it's there, you'll be farting seemlessly whilst changing the channel and cuddling and remarking about what you must have eaten for it to smell that bad, before you know it.

I'm less worried about that one black belly button hair that I should be plucking out and more focused on whether I should try to fold the pile of clothes that too closely resembles "Trashy" from Fraggle Rock.

I'm less worried about my morning breath and more stressed about actually waking up in time to rush myself and my poor son out the door in warp speed. In fact, I notice morning breath probably more so than my dear husband, we are too busy trying to actually get up out of bed there isn't a chance to cover up the morning breath smell, just a chance to hit the alarm for the tenth time and say "shit, let the dogs out before they pee, Joseph strawberry or peach oatmeal? Go pee before you eat breakfast and put the dish in the sink when you're done, clothes are on your bed, get ready, hurry, or mommy's going to get mad". That is pretty much SOP around my house M-F in the mornings. I should write a manual on how to do as impossibly little as you can in order to get out of the door. The manual would be one page and it would read "Shit, skip the shower, grab some gum and do your eyeliner at the red light on Man O War and Winchester Rd, dont' forget the baby, feeding him before you leave might be a good idea, but not necessary, bring gum for him too, just in case."

Morning breath used to be something you ignored, or made every effort to NOT have by slipping into the bathroom at 5:30am to get one last brush in hoping that, that would be enough by the time you woke up for morning "cuddles". Morning breath is something you just work around now. It's there, just get on with it, sex isn't impossible with morning breath, it's quite the opposite, more efficient and time effecitve if you will since Paul and I are still respectful enough to know the MB is there and we don't want to endure it for longer than we have to, so move the show along, no intermission, just get to the standing ovation, then, bruch your teeth in the shower.

I'm now going to think about all the multi tasking I do in daily life, brushing my teeth in the shower, shaving my legs in the shower, (I say this because recently I was up early enough to capture a part of the TODAY show on NBC where these New York Women who live so far off this planet on what they call Manhattan Island, and the PRODUCER of that show, obviously - felt it was necessary to put a segment together for compeltely inept ladies on how to make life more efficient by shaving your legs in the shower, and brushing your teeth in the shower.) I am NOT kidding you, this actually WAS on the today show and it was a 1:30 segment, I couldn't believe it, what do these women do in New York? Shave their legs in a plush cashmere robe while their first nanny replaces their tissues from Kleenex to 300 thread count nose blowers, and their second nanny schedules their ONE child into as much daily activity as possible so the New York mother doesn't have to see their kid. LOL, I will save my TODAY show rant for another day, I DESPISE that show and their geocentric egotistical topics, that will take a whole blog.

I don't know what I'd do if I couldn't do at least 2 things at once, I can't drive without talking on the phone, my dad and mum would never hear from me! What are you supposed to do in the shower if you don't brush your teeth and shave your legs, just shampoo, wash and get out? That sounds like a waste of opportunity there.

To bring this full circle, Marriage is less like the movies, less like romance and long loving staring Days of our Lives looking into each others eyes. And more like Farts that are loud enough and stinky enough to wake you from your sleep, but not enough to do that for ther FARTER, and morning breath that just gets ignored. You get to be yourself, your lazy, gross self, and your partner gets to continue to love you for it, or just ignore it and look forward to the days you wear matching underwear and not your ratty white (now grey/black) bra and blue overstretched grannie panties.

Will run for Beer.

It's a cute slogan sent to me by someone you can buy in a necklace for like $20, I totally want it. Though mine would really say "will run for rum". I got back in the saddle again (thanks Willie) last night. I started running with a limp, that was totally seksi, I'm sure. I think it's where I have been favoring my right leg and limping around on it, so I just kept pushing it and ran my usual 28:00 again. If that isn't 5K it's pretty damn close, I measured it a while back and can't remember the actual distance but it's around 3.2 or 3.4 miles as I remember. The killer for me is in the middle of the run, before I turn around I have to run up a hill, I HATE IT and my time would be MUCH better if I didn't do the hill, but I feel by keeping the hill in my training I am getting used to obstacles in my running course (not always are they going to be lovely shady and flat) but I'm pushing myself harder to better my time with a harder section in my run. My Ipod died like 5 minutes in, so I had to listen to myself run again. I run past people wtih my earphones in and I wonder if they are talking about me, "Look at the way she is running, she's struggling!" is what I imagine them to say when I have my earphones IN and ON, but they don't know they are turned off, so I am waiting to catch one of the walkers as I run by saying something about me. Not to say anything back to them, but just to solidify my suspicions. Seriously though, who do I think I am? Am I really paranoid about people talking about the way I am running - how my flabby fatty thights are flapping in the wind? Am I really this narcassistic to actually believe people talk about me after having only met me as I wizz by in running pants and a sweaty mid section top? Nah, no one talks about me, but I think it would be funny to hear the people on their porch actually think they are safe saying something about me out loud "Oh here comes lound breather thunder thighs agian, she looks like she's gonna die, if she drops dead, you have to do the mouth to mouth, I ain't touchin' her".... lol. I imagine it, but I don't for one second believe that anyone is taking time out of their day to say something out loud, do I believe they think it, oh hell yes, just like I do, I judge everyone around me all day long, I just dont' say it out aloud until I am at least 4 beers deep.

I feel good after running, I stopped before I ended my usual actual run, I usually exercise for 45 minutes - 1 hour running anywhere from 5 miles to 10 K, but this was my first night back after my longest stint off running since I started and it was BLAZING hot, even at 9pm at night, so I decided to give it a rest. Came home, strapped some ice to my right leg and knee, took some vitamins and some advil and watched a cute movie with Paul. Joseph is getting really upset when he sees me go running because he really wants to go with me, I'd have Paul drag him along but Paul can't do much on his feet for too long before it hurts, so I have to figure out a way to incorporate Joseph, if he wants to exercise and run I should be doing all that I can to foster it.

I have had the pleasure of recently being able to watch several good movies/features/documentaries. Film that doesn't just go boom in the night (though those are my favorite kinds), film that makes me think a little afterwards. I like it. I haven't finished my latest sock monster, I have stalled in attaching his arms and legs, much to Joseph's dismay because we have pledged to name this sock monster "Peanut Butter Pants", this name requires a creative and funny story telling decription of Joseph's latest obsession, something I will have to devote an entire blog post to. SO we watched "Timer" last night, dear netflix, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways... An interesting concept, you get fit with a "Timer" that counts down to the actual moment that you will meet the "one", no more finding or guessing at love, no more divorce, it times down to actually finding the one you are meant to be with forever on this earth. So if your timer is counting down for another 5,000 days, do you just go out and date and sleep with whomever, whenever, wihtout consequence and don't get head over heels because you know this person isn't the one? Or if you are in a relationship and you get a timer and it doesn't match the other person's timer do you just bail out of the relationship immediately? A thought provoking look at what defines relationships, if you can't find the one you love, love the one you're with? Do you stay with this one even if you don't know for sure, do you ignore the timer and go with your gut that could most likely be wrong? Would it ruin the surprise? I told Paul we should never get timers....lol

Living Simply and the Irony

First things first, I haven't run since my first 5K race on Saturday, cuz of my bum knee and I miss it. I miss striving for a goal, pushing myself harder and I miss the time alone with my limited thoughts. I hope to run again soon, I really don't want to permanently injury myself so it is taking every ounce of my being to just sit and not run, perhaps tomorrow I will try it out again, or maybe I'll wait until Thursday, I really want to run and not stop again.

Paul and I just finished a documentary called "180 degrees South". It incorporates, what I am sure is a small portion of the lives of the creators of the patagonia clothing company and North Face companies and merges with the climbing aspirations and dreams of a fellow "dirt bag" (meaning someone who can live out of their car or back pack and just lives and works to surf or climb or just live to do things with the earth). The creators of these multi million dollar companies and this one guy have a lot in common though decades separate them in age years. It was amazing to see, I am sure these men are billionaires but yet choose to continue to "live simply" and give back to the earth by means of restoration to remote parts of Chile, namely, Patagonia. I won't recount the story line by any means, but it is definitely worth seeing, especially if you feel like making yourself seem small and having it point in your face what you do everyday really isn't anything, in the grand scheme of things, its just getting out of bed and going to work. You aren't noticing enough or much about the world around you, as you lounge on your newly purchased patio set from Target on the comfort of your nice patio in the evening dusk on your laptop, as I am doing right now.

Live Simply is really the message from this documentary. I'm not going to get all philosophical on how deep this message really is, but just how in less than two hours it impacted me, to make real change I am almost sure not, but the impact is there, and maybe over time it might change something within me. I admire these fellows and how they can live simply, Yvon (the founder of Patagonia company) said in this film that people often complicate living simply, it can be a very complicated and difficult thing if you just don't get it. How true. The first thing I thought of was how you can buy Live Simply signs to hang in your house, to decorate your abode, you can purchase the phrase and the thing Live Simply for less than $9.99 at Gordmans or some other crappy store I have come to personally know as "typical American shelves loaded with bullshit items" store that is just filled with crap, total crap, they sell these signs about living simply, but nothing in their stores offer such meaning. Ironic? Yes. Or you can just live simply and never set foot in a store like that ever again.

You could go completely off grid and live off the earth, own 2 pairs of jeans, never worry about underwear and forget any kind of grooming whatsoever. You could also forget getting laid, although I'm sure, that because sex is a basic human desire, you could still find it some where, a little less sexy, but probably equally as gratifying, its amazing the kinds of people that are able to procreate, or just, get some.

Live simply could be as complicated as I want it to be. Dave Ramsey says to leave below your means, live simply means to live just above survival, it means to forget all the bullshit and return what the earth gave you, without even checking your credit score. I could buy a live simply sign from Gordmans and I would be doing the complete opposite of it's meaning. I could go completely off grid and live simply, but that sounds complicated, especially with a 3 year old. I thought of Joseph being one of these "dirt bags", one of these guys that just live and work to get to the next big swell, or the next great climb, find other friends with similiar simple goals and live simply, just be happy. Would he skype me and tell me all about it? Would I get to read emails about his adventures, maybe he'd get to pick up an old roatry phone somewhere in the world and try to give his mum a ring to update me. I'd just love it. If Joseph grew up to have nothing and be blissfully happy, living simply, I would adore the idea and him. Joseph has a keen sense of his surroundings, I wouldn't be surprised if he did something like that, he has a keen sense for companionship, friendship and emotion. He shows great love and I'm sure could share that with someone and some great things. What an adventure to live simply, to go off grid and just see where that day takes you, then the next, then the next. Never having to worry about some bullshit issue at your job that pays your bills so you don't have to live simply, but comfortably. Joseph could do it, and whatever he does, I hope that he does it simply and doesn't get eaten alive by laziness and "things" that drive society nowadays. I know that Joseph won't know what I mean when I say, "I truly want you to be happy", because that is the honest, simple truth. Happiness can come in many forms but it is long lasting and nourishing when it comes the simplest. If Joseph got to what gave him the most happiness in life everyday, I would, in turn be happy. I know I can create my own happiness, but I can also be fulfilled completely knowing that my son is truly, madly, deeply happy.

Happiness right now, might be that drum set or bicycle I'm looking at giving Joseph for Christmas, but a bike doesn't last forever, that smile becuase of that bike won't last forever, but that smile knowing there is so much more to life and to others and to purpose, can live on for generations. I don't think I could teach that to anyone, because I myself don't live it, but I know it exists, it is possible and it isn't such a bad thing to strive for it.

If this phrase "Live Simply" could be adopted by many people, especially in the United States, a lot of problems would be gone. Instead of buying a phrase, adopt it, live it, turn it into something so that when you leave this earth, the true meaning of it lives on, forever. I will try to live simply more and more everyday. Yes I am consumed by modern society, hell, I live in it and I actually like the crazy lazy conveniences, sometimes they are fascinating, but there are small elements of living simply I can adopt everyday, without having to go off grid. I don't want to climb mountains (Dear God I look down from 3 steps and I get woozy), I don't want to live out of my backpack (I love hot showers and feeling clean a lot), I have no desire to be a "dirt bag" working just to find the next big wave, but I do get it, I really get it.

I do understand Live Simply, and I admire those that do, how completely fascinating to have nothing but the adventure ahead of you.

I'm a runner, I need a cuter outfit.

I was the only "exerciser" that was wearing long yoga pants to run this 5K today. I wore long legs because I had my ankles taped up to my mid calf and had a knee brace on, white tape over my very sexy pink and white legs that haven't seen the sun in what looks like a millenia... not so sexy. I saw women in running "skorts", 3/4 length yoga pants, racer back stretchy tops and t shirts from other races. I can't wait to be "that girl" wearing to the race another race t shirt I got. Before a 5K it is a great chance to people watch. I KNOW I looked like the girl who'd never run a 5K before, especially at the end when I tried to stop at the finish line and they said "NO! keep going" so I thought they meant running, so I picked up running, then they said "NO! just keep walking!" I'm a pro, watch out people. There were hundreds of people milling about, all Andrea and I talked about were our nerves. I was nervous, only about my adrenaline, I just needed to keep a lid on it. Were they going to blow a whistle? blow an air horn? When will we know to line up? The follow the masses mentality really kicks in when you have no idea what you are doing, I just followed the crowd and started when I saw people in front of me starting. Weird how that works. Also weird how my body works, I got home at almost 1am last night after seeing only one movie at the drive in, and told myself I needed 6 hours of awesome sleep. I got to sleep, set my alarm for 6:15 (knowing I could slap the snooze button a time or two more before I absolutely had to get going) but my body naturally woke up at 5:57am, way to go body, that happens every time I have something important going on in the morning, I can always rely on my body to remind me I need to be up! I was such a newbie at this running thing I stopped an organizer and asked if I needed to go to registration or pre registration (turns out pre, since I "pre" registered by mailing in my form). That was cool. Then I walked into the pre-registration area and inadvertently joined the line for the toilet. I stood there until my eye caught I group of people walking to the back and then I saw race packets. Follow the masses mentality kicked in there again! I probably would have just stood there in that line for the toilet until I got there and realized that was the wrong line and didn't need to pee, but would have faked it anyway to avoid further embarrassment, I mean what kind of idiot just stands in the line for the toilet when they need to be pre-registering?

Running around a bourbon making factory provided to be beautiful and interesting. The grounds are just beautiful, the running trail, shady, cool and gorgeous. Running around the smells of bourbon, not so great. Thank god I hadn't been drinking heavily any time recently, I would have thrown up, in fact, the smell did get to me, I thought I was going to have to dry heave after taking in a big wiff.

People of all sizes, it appears can "run" a 5K. I realize I am using quotation marks excessively in this post, so I'll try to stop being so sarcastic, but that can be very hard to do especially for me. One girl infront of me was easily over the 185lb mark, she stayed ahead of me the entire time, I kept pace behind two older women both in their 40's, if that isn't the case they need to stay out of the sun, because their orange complexion and leather like skin really made them look that way. I run today with a bunch of broad range white people. The only black person was, yup, you guessed it, finished in 14 minutes. He looked like he was foreign, like ethopian foreign. One of the runners around my area was this guy that looked like a total try hard. He was ill prepared with wavy long exercise pants (probably starter shit from wal mart) he was wearing a cap backwards with the letter "D" on it, GUESS WHAT THAT STANDS FOR :) and would run, like flat out for 10 seconds, then stop panting and sweating, I'd pass him, and he'd do it again. NOT a runner, needs to get a good pace going. I give him props for trying, not everyone wants or has idea what they are getting themselves into with a 5K, so he tried and made it but he also looked pretty dumb. Look at me all high and mighty after my first run, judging everyone around me, not to worry though I have a fairly good perception of how I look when I run. I look like I'm going to start crying and it hurts all over, an added bonus is the fact that I can see my thigh fat jiggling or "waving" in the wind on my shadow, with every stride I take. Again I highlight frustration at not losing weight and working so hard. That's it, I'll just give up eating, I've already (to much distress) my drinking, that Litre of malabu rum has stayed suspiciously full, I should start "sleep drinking" that would be hilarious!

Time to reward myself and today's achievement with a nice rum and pineapple juice, sun and water. Oh yeah.

32:58

Not sure what is cooler right now, the fact that I finished my first 5K in a GREAT time (for my very first one) or the fact that I didn't keel over at the finish line. It was fun, the only "hard" part was at the very beginning when I was trying to navigate through all the crowds to get me some running space, that was very annoying. I didn't know if I was going to want to stop or need to stop, I just kept going. My real goal was to keep up with Andrea since her training had been going well and I have been plagued with a knee/leg/ankle injury and took two days off. Plus I only made 28 minutes in a row, no stopping, once, so the fact that I hadn't yet run a complete 5K yet was nerve racking. I also (very annoyingly) fought off adrenaline and the feeling like I needed to take off like a shot for like the first 2 miles, so when I actually needed the shot at the end, my adrenaline had already worn off and I was just sore and tired.

I wrapped my ankles like I used to before a dancing competition and that really helped, I also wore a knee bandage which was kind of ok, but I don't think I'll wear it again unless I can see a definite improvement wearing it, it kind of psyched me out I was very aware of teh bandage throughout the entire race. I think we were towards the end of the "running" pack. I bet the last actual runner came in at around the 40:00 mark. The winner for the BGSG in my age group timed at 23:00, so if I ran at 23:00 again, I'd come in like 6th place in my age group. I bet one day I could run it in under 25:00, but I think my goal here is to get to a comfortable pace and run a 10K. I'm going to let Andrea talk me into doing a half marathon or duathalon, I don't really want to, I like to start off small, but I'll let Andrea coax me into the idea, it really is a lot easier with a running buddy! It was so nice and extra fun/special to share this first race with her! It was more fun because of the friendship I think, I could have done it on my own, but I bet I might have stopped, also Paul and Joseph had a pal there, Bailey Jake and Joseph got to play and run around and Brad and Paul got to work on their bromance. What a great cheer team, Paul spent the entire time running around the course trying to get different photos of Andrea and I mid run so we could look back at it all, that was very considerate of Paul, I will be able to look back and know everything about my first race! I've given Joseph the running bug, so I will enter him in the fastest kid in town race in August as well as any little run I can put him in. I bet right now he could run 1/2 mile no problem. I might start training him, it'll be difficult, because I'd have to have "two" training/exercise sessions a day, one for me and one for him, but there's much more I'd do for that kid so it's not that bad.

I'm ready to run more 5K. I'm ready to lose some weight after kicking my arse at exercising. That was never my actual goal to loose weight, but now I'd like to see something come off, the sweat says that should be so!

I'm working on resting my knee, the next 5K in July 21st I think, BGSG, maybe shave it down to 30:00 by then? I like to dream big!

Fly eating Rabbit

I made another sock monster, in lieu of being unable to run for the past 2 days (I really feel so weird that I haven't hit the pavement - it's so strange) I decided to put my time to better use than the laundry, so instead of folding the laundry I cut it up and used some of the laundry to create yet another strange sock monster. At 1:30am last night, I put my most unusual moniker yet to my latest creation - "Bacon". He looked like a piece of bacon, kinda with the type and color of sock I used, Joseph woke up to find him and said I made the "coolest donkey monster ever!". It does sort of look like a donkey. Joseph lined up all four of my monster creations and had then "Sweeping (sleeping)" on the living room floor. His favorite was still Hairy Henry octopus. I think that I am going to make sock monsters and give them to people as gifts, like for kids, or newborns, though they could be kinda scary, I still hand made them and I still have a handful of handmade things from my nan or mum (relatives that were crafty), handmade just isn't done anymore, it could be kind of special. So watch out, you might already know what kind of gift you are getting if you are any friend of mine!!

Our dog (the one with less than required brain cells to function like a dog so we call him rabbit) catches flies, and eats them. Now that it is the summer time and we don't have hardly any windows and no doors with fly mesh, flies just manage to come right in whenever we open our french doors to the side of the house. Luckily for us, Rabbit engages his stealth and fakes "dog" on these flies, he waits until they are within striking distance, then "SNAP!", like a venus fly trap, snaps up that fly, smacks it around in his gums for a second and swallows. Beats an aerosol can and a messy fly swat that usually leaves me cleaning up fly guts on a window. Very environmentally friendly if you ask me, a fly catching dog. He is also earning his rent this way. Rabbit is not the sharpest tool in the shed, but is the most colorful. He's the dog I got when I thought Dingo, our first dog, needed a friend. Rabbit is the dog I got from the shelter when I was just going to "look only", he's also the dog I told Paul was on a "trail basis" and he's also the dog that squeaks instead of barking, we should have called him squeaker - though that is his nick name.

So what about running? I haven't run since Wednesday night and that was a pathetic effort. Andrea and I tried to run the Buffalo Chase course just to see what it looked like so we'd be more prepared when we raced on Saturday, that was FAIL, we got a good idea, but ran for like 17 minutes and I thought that my right leg was going to snap and my knee cap just fall out under my skin and land in my sock. I can't believe the level of pain I was in, I now understand the true meaning of "wincing" in pain. I had a few tears come to my eyes... I have grudgingly taken Thursday and Friday off running, which stresses me out. I had only just run 28+ minutes straight for the first time, I was hoping to run longer again second time around so that by Saturday I'd feel very confident not only I could finish without walking, but finish in a reasonable amount of time. I just don't feel prepared now and I feel nervous and I know my adrenaline is going to get the better of me, I'm going to have to spend the first mile or two calming myself down into a comfortable run and breathing pattern.. dammit. My knee hurts just sitting and a sharp pain shoots through my right leg every now and again. I don't care though, I am GOING to race on Saturday and push myself to run the whole thing. Even if I have to take a week off afterwards.

Friday before race day, running a few errands, making sure I have pasta for dinner and probably going to see Toy Story 3 again, this time at the drive in. I have never wanted to see a movie again while it is at the theatres, but Joseph just loved it and he would love to see it again and I would love to take him, I bet he has a great time at the drive in! Going to the drive in would check off one of my summer to do list items, though I really wanted to see Iron Man 2 at the drive in, Toy Story 3 should be good enough, second time around!

Time to get out of my pyjamas and do something on this fantastic day that I am NOT at work and at home with my super fantastic family. Something must be done - quick, to the bat mobile!

T Minus 3 days

3 days until my first 5K. I hope it will be my first and not my last, if it is enjoyable, I'd like to do more this summer. I get a little nervous thinking about it, but I think I am ready to go. Two nights ago, I neglected to blog after my run, it was a long night of exercise. I ran the first leg for 28 minutes no stopping, and that was close to 5K. I ran again after walking for a while (Becky came with me again) for another 26 minutes. It's really amazing this transition that is happening. Once I get past the first 5-10 minute mark I feel like I could just keep running, very Forrest Gump of me, but I stopped after the SECOND 26 minute run and was like, hmm, I should have just kept going, I felt FINE. Didn't bend over in pain, didn't scream in exhaustion, just stopped running, stood there and looked around. Now, my right knee and thigh feel destroyed, so I iced them down again and I'm just going to work through it, the "injury" hurts for the first 3-4 minutes, but then it subsides during my run. I'm taking a regular regimen of 2 aleve before the run and then something after the run (before I go to bed).

I might have mentioned that since I started running, over 3 weeks ago now, I haven't been sleeping, my limbs and my body ache all over and I just can't get rested. So I have had to start taking some tylenol or advil to get me rested ready for sleep. I don't like to do that a lot, but as I get ready to race for the first time I feel I need to try to get sufficient and rested sleep.

Today is Wednesday and I run tonight, Andrea and I are going to check out the actual chase trail if we can and run or walk it, I like a familiar trail much better, then I can focus on an end point and push myself. Considering I ran over 25 minutes twice in one night, I really think I can run the 5K without stopping. I hope I can do that, I have a mental plan ready for that day, I just hope my adrenaline doesn't get the better of me.

I can't believe that in 3 short weeks I am running over 25 minutes without stopping, perhaps after this weekend (or maybe even tonight) I can write that I run 5K without stopping and then I will start focusing on my time. Post this run I think I will continue to run for a 10K, half marathon or marathon I just don't think I could do, I feel like beyong 10K (which is about 1.25 hours of exercising/running) it gets boring. I'll give anything a shot, but it's not something I'm going to set myself up for!...right now.....

I have lots more to say but am not in a creative writing mood, until later...

Cooler than me.

The Mike Posner song that's on my miniaturized playlist on Paul's phone while my ipod classic 1st Gen continues to SUCK. It got me through a a new limit for my run. Today's run was completed in under an hour and I ran (according to GPS) 5.5 miles. The personal best part was running the first leg of my circuit for 14 minutes, no stopping, from Trailwood near my house to the end of the town branch trail, all. the. way. to. the. top. BOO. YAH. Turned around at the top and walked for a brief 30 seconds and then ran all the way back, another 13 minutes. BOO. YAH. I can't believe it. The most surprising thing about all this is that I don't feel like total shit and feel, actually, pretty damn good. I ran with Paul's sister tonight, Becky, who like me three weeks ago, hasn't exercised, at all in forever. So she ran 30 second stints as much as she could, while I kicked ass, not hers, but mine. This sounds like an excuse, but it really isn't, I only stopped at the beginning again because I wasn't sure how far behind Becky was. Now, this isn't a comparison between Becky and myself, she is W1D1 of the "program" or whatever you want to call it, so even if she doesn't continue it, that is the level she is at. I could have kept running, but Becky was nice enough to come and along and provide company so I didn't totally want to run around without her. I really believe that I could run this 5K on Saturday under 40 minutes. I am, it seems, a slow runner, or maybe that is stricly classified as "jogging". Whatever, haters, I am exercising, more than I ever have since I quit Irish dancing, so you can suck it. Whatever you classify it as, I classify it as getting off the couch and sweating my arse off thank you very much.

Didn't see any snakes, didn't see any bunnies either.... Mayhaps the bunnies are being digested and the snakes are laying low in the tall grass resting their full bellies. I'm on team bunny, so snakes, whatever the hell you are (black rat snake or copperhead) I am an equal opportunity snake hater and I want to kill you all. I analyzed each and every leaf grouping and stick gathering on my trail though, with anxiety as the cluster approached, closer and closer until I realized it wasn't a snake. I hate snakes, why'd it have to be snakes?

People who meet me and subsequently know that I grew up in Australia cannot believe that I never saw a snake in my home land. NO. I NEVER saw a snake in the wild, like just laying there, not in my backyard, not in the bush, nowhere and I've been out bush, camped and hiked in Australia. I'm sure they were there, but I never saw a snake in the wild until I moved to Kentucky and saw a water moccasin swimming in Lake Herrington. Now that's a sight that makes me wanna jump right in that swampy, tepid human waste lake. The only thing that makes me wanna jump in that lake is 6 beers.

I've seen every single kind of spider possible in Austrailia, all the venomous poisonous, long legged, huge black bodies, red stripedy and fangy arachnids, but a snake, none. God I hate spiders, snakes more though, they seem more squirrely, and could slither away easier than spiders that I could use an atmosphere ozone hating aerosol to dump an entire $3.99 Raid can on. Snakes, I'd need to find a large rock, aim and account for wind, velocity, speed and crush at the right moment. That's seems a little more difficult, so I opt for Spider killing instead, all snakes, please keep to yourself, don't present me with a need to find a large cinder block.

I run on Saturday, my first 5K ever. I hope to run that in 40 minutes or less. I hope that I run for 15-20 minutes, then I'll stop for 1:30, then I'd like to think that I would run the entire rest of the way before getting to the finish. That is my goal. Today is Sunday, I will run Monday Wednesday and Thursday or T,W,R. I'll walk on Friday, eat pasta salad for an early dinner and the plan is to get up Saturday at 6:30 am, eat a Special K breakfast bar, pack plenty of water and head out from the house at 7:15 am for my 8am race. It's not a race to me and I am not competing with anyone, not even myself, I have a time goal, because I now know I can run this thing, just a time goal and a goal to just do it. Ahh Nike, what a great marketing slogan, probably not as catchy as the one Paul came up with, which I will get make into a t-shirt - "stop sucking." I love it.

Tomorrow is work, but only for 3 days, then it's the 4th of July long weekend, I love it, I can make it through three days...surely... :)

Along the trail....

I'll start this blog in reverse order, though I shouldnb't have said anything, I should have just performed my Quentin Tarantino story telling and let you figured it out. Since I believe I am not half as talented as that man, I figured I ought to let you know what is going on.

Returned home from a very vigorous walk with Joseph, this kid can run! He ran for 1/4 - 1/2 mile consistently, and not just jogged, ran! I couldnt' believe it. We took the stroller and he got up and run, while I raced behind witha stroller and Dingo, I had to keep up a good pace to stay on track with him! Showed Paul on his Palm Pre a photo of a snake we literally almost stepped on. It didn't really freak me out at the time, the snake was little, but also the coloring looked harmelss, but taking the evidence back home to paul it was frightening to find out that it could be a copperhead. I got Dingo and my child way too close to that thing. Now I didn't go all up close and Steve Irwin this little guy, but I SHOULD have picked up a large rock and smashed him from a distance. I'd rather see 1,000 bunnies I need to get rid of myself, than snakes. Insert Indiana Jones quote here "Snakes.... why'd it have to be snakes... I hate snakes..."

NOW I will know why if I don't see very many bunnies on my trail anymore.

Joseph can also bowl, he LOVED the bowling shoes (pink and yellow, flourscent at that) and he asked if we could take them home. Amm.. bowling shoes don't really go with anything unless you plan on walking around like Charlie Sheen in 2 1/2 men all day and I won't have that. It was for Taylor's 5th birthday party and thankfully at this party Taylor didn't break his arm like he did at Joseph's that Joseph keeps bringing up and can't let go of. Jospeh will remember that forever! He picked up a size 8 ball and carried it all himself and dropped it down the "slide" and got several spares! It was a fun little party. A celebratory strike or "more than 2 pins" dance was customary, think a mixture of Saturday night fever and air guitar.

Previous to that we went for a swim. That was way more of a hassle that it should have been, but I TRIED to do somethng "nice" and as I knew it would, it was just a bad idea. So Joseph and I went to Masterson Station pool. Where is Paul during all this ga;avanting you ask? Well, Paul isn't much for anything that involves being out of the house first of all, second of all he actually had a good excuse for once, he was finishing the hardwood flooring he'd been putting for two weeks. THe pool was awesome, but we obviously don't spend enough time there, Joseph is hesitant in the pool, not scared or fearful, but just hesitant. There are kids there that obviously spend a lifetime there and are swimming going under water, know how to breathe no floaties. And Joseph finally got comfortable using a floating ring. I'll take it, but then once he was ready to be in the pool, he didn't want to leave. I'll have to make sure we spend an entire day at the pool sometime soon.

The day started out nice and late and I didn't realize how hot and humid it was going to get, again, so I went on a run. This is the part I get to talk about an achievement I made. Well, I made several and I am thrilled. So I start the run, gearing up for running 6 minutes, walking 1:30, instead I run, it feels good, so I keep running, then I just keep running until it starts hurting, then I push myself to run until I reach the almost 1 mile mark. Awesome. Ran for 12:30. Wow. Walked 2:30 and ran 8:30, walked for 1:30 ran for 6:30, walked another 1:30 and finished my shortened (4.26) mile run with a 5 minute jaunt at the end. I was saturated in sweat and I know where to draw the line. When I can feel the sun literally cooking my body and the humidity is stuck to my skin, I get all tingly and a cool feeling that means I am probably going to pass out soon and it is time to wrap it up. I thought it was early enough in the morning to try to do a full 10K but I didn't bring water and 10:30am is HOT outside, VERY HOT in the summer. I'll settle for a little over 5K.

According to just math, I did over 5K in 37 minutes. I have tried everything, a pedometer, GPS tracking, stop watches etc.. but I can't ever seem to get a proper full reading on my length of running. This first 5K on Saturday July 3rd will be a good test, but I think I might need to visit the trail before hand, I like to get a good idea of points along the trail so I can push myself to an end point. Or maybe it will be good not knowing when or what the end looks like so I just have to keep running and keep pushing myself!!! More on this first 5K as it looms.....