I Will Be Sad

I will be sad, when she learns to say her "Rs." Right now, they are all "W." Rollie is Wally. Road is woad. Red is wed. Tiller is tirrer - When people ask her her name, it sounds like she is saying "Terror." Cracks us up.

The Strut

That's the name of the festival in my neighborhood. I miss the days when we lived within walking distance of the village, where we could come and go throughout the day, drink as we please, and not worry about it. I also miss my nanny. Oh, wait. We've never had a nanny.

Todd and I woke up at 6 a.m., in time to grab a snack and a coffee, get the kids going, and break up a cat and dog fight, before leaving for the 5k. We thought we were running late, and we were so early that they gave us numbers 10 and 11 - Gotta love my slacker neighborhood. It was nice to be in a small race, with neighbors and people I know. It was Todd's first race, and we were both pleased with the weather, and the fact that we both beat the Dachsund running the race. It's the small things. Also, the shirt is the coolest!

I wasn't happy that we had to head over to Grant Park to get brunch, but we hit Ria's for a brunch without kids. Awesome. Love me some kid-free meals.

Afterwards, we headed back home to start the grill, put on the beans and hit the showers. My sister and Mom were around after watching the kids for the morning. (Best sister EVER for coming over at 6:15 a.m. to watch the kids.) Matt, Ned, Nessie, and Scarlett showed up, and we started the margaritas at about noon, then watched the Auburn game. (Yikes.) I listened to Larry on the radio while the kids ran around. Afterwards, mom and Lisa went home and we all went up to check out the Strut. I got an supercool, ultra cheap creepy shrinkydink necklace for 3$! And a handmade bib for my niece Luci. V. pretty.

Amazingly, i had two margaritas and one beer all day until after bringing the kids home and putting them to bed (they were pooped.) I'll be honest. I could have really tied one on. But these days, I am more likely to drive my kids safely around (okay, except for the mailman roadie incident!) and then pound some beers on the couch.

I know. Totally glamorous.

Seriously. It was a good day.

Insidious Infiltration

So, I have been listening to the Girl Talk album, Night Ripper. Total and complete fun, in a Paul's Boutique kind of way. Lots of recognizable samples, but used in a really creative way. The song, "Hold Up" is probably my favorite running mix song of the year - How can you go wrong with a song that samples James Taylor and The Pixies? "You still want to hate? Be my guest." Totally fun album.

Anyway, I am listening to it, and the kids are playing, and I hear a sample I hadn't heard before. It was familiar to me. "I'm on it," the voice said. Where had I heard that voice before? Why could I not place it?

Shrek. It was fucking Shrek. The damn Shrek figure from McDonald's.

The insidious ways that the children infiltrate every corner of my life. . . .

Taking Me Down a Notch

A funny thing about kids is how they take you down a notch, at just the right time, usually when you are feeling really good about yourself.

Yesterday, rather than do my usual run, I decided to do a little test of myself. My friends Natalie and Steph are both running the Hansgrohe Triathlon in a couple of weeks, and I had thought about doing it, but decided that I was taking on too much too soon and declined. I have always wanted to do one, because I love swimming and because I get bored easily, and I think training for three sports sounds a lot more fun than training for only one. In fact, before Nat and Steph decided to do this one a couple of months ago, I was already eyeing one for either May or June of next year (there are a couple that time of year just for beginners). In preparation for that, I had already starting swimming and biking on my cross-training days in my run schedule.

When I found out they were doing this one in August, I was so tempted to try it with them, but I am pretty glad that I decided to wait until next year. Travel, knee pain, and a host of other engagements between that time and early August would have made me a basket case. That being said, I have been following their training and getting very excited for them. Their last couple of posts have been about estimating their times in the race, based on trials they did in the last few weeks.

Well, I have many flaws, and one of them is a highly competitive nature; I haven't met many games, matches, fights, or challenges that I didn't like. Obviously, this can be a good thing at times, and it is not to say that I am not a graceful loser, because I am. One of the many lessons learned by playing sports as a kid is that there is always someone better. (I wonder at those professional athletes who are so good that they never had to learn this very valuable lesson.) But I really don't like to lose, and I love the act of playing, racing, and meeting in competition. (By the way: One thing I do not like is to be chased, as in a game of Hide and seek or Kick the Can. It scares the bejeesus out of me, even if it is just a game. It is right up there with snakes, flying, and wet paper.)

An interesting thing about running was that I first took it up to a) lose weight and b) to give myself some competitive goals to shoot for, because I so miss the competition that I was constantly experiencing growing up. I am mentally a better person when my body is physically worn out. Odd but true. As I ran more and more, though, I realized that I was slowly morphing into a more competitive runner. I am not a good runner when compared with those who have been doing it for years, or people who are in tip-top shape, but I am slowly and surely beating my expectations for myself; I am improving.

Anyway, the point is that I saw that they were testing how well they were going to do in this triathlon, and I immediately felt the need to know a) if I could even finish the distance and b) what my time might actually be. So, when I got to the gym, I did the distances required to finish the sprint triathlon that they are running in August.

I didn't push myself as hard as I could have, because I didn't know how my legs would react to it on the run. I definitely could have done the swim faster. By the bike, i was worried about the run, so I put it on random hills, level 8 (because I remembered that is what Nat had done, I believe) and took it pretty easy, not remotely doing it at top speed. Also, riding a stationary bike is, frankly, fucking boring. I got distracted from my mission, watched a little Oprah, and forgot to push it very much. It didn't matter that I took it slowly, because either way, my legs felt like i was wearing concrete fucking ski boots by the time I got to the run. That first half mile was sucky beyond belief, but after that, the legs seemed to come back to me and I actually ran pretty well.

My results:
Swim - 400 yds - 7 mins 49 secs
Bike - 13 mi - 39 mins 50 secsRun - 3.1 mi - 35 mins 02 secs

Steph posted a link to a site that calculates your estimated triathlon time based on time trials and your weekly training mileage. I could barely figure out how to use the thing (what the hell is a 20 minute time trial, and are they even talking about the bike?), and I haven't really been training or keeping up with my biking or swimming mileage, but this is what I came up with. I plugged in my above times, except that for the bike, I had to figure out at what speed I could do 20 minutes of biking, based on how fast I did the 13 miles. (Why don't they just have you bike the 13 miles and put that time in?) I put in the minimal allowed training mileages.

I came out with a final time of: 1:37:15. Not exactly on par with Nat's or Steph's estimated times, but then I didn't expect to be on par with them - they run ridiculously fast compared to me. Evidently, the calculator also adds time in for the transitions, or something.

I really wasn't shooting for a particular time. I really just wanted to do the distances and see how it felt, if it was harder or easier than I thought it would be. Mostly, I wanted to know that I could finish it. I learned both that I could pretty easily finish, that I have a lot of room for improvement through just giving it more, especially on the bike, and that my ability to improve on the run would vastly improve my finish time. Running is definitely my weak link - there are people who run 7 and 8 minute miles and I am still doing more than ten minute miles. And then there is the weight. I need to lose at least a good 30 pounds. All in all, though, I kind of like the idea of having plenty of room for major improvement. I also looked at the 2006 results for the triathlon they are doing, and I was a little stunned to see that I was right around in the middle of the times. I could do this, and not come in last. I could do well. So, of course, I am a little bummed now that I'm not doing it, but I'm just telling myself "think how much better I could be in another eight to ten months."

I was pretty elated when I got to the restaurant for dinner afterwards. Todd had an after-work drinks thing, and I decided I was too tired to go home. We headed over to La Casita, where i ordered a modest, weight-watcher's friendly meal, and a beer (not so WW-friendly, but light!) The kids ate their weight in beans and rice. I was feeling good, full of endorphins and accomplishment. I knew that if I wanted to do the triathlon, I could do it, and that I even had a base time to work from and strive to beat. I looked forward to taking the kids home, giving them baths and putting them to bed, and then showering and lounging on the couch, making love to Tivo and a couple more beers.

I paid the check, stood up, downed the last of my beer, and took Tiller's hand to help her down the step on the patio where we were eating. As we came down to the lower level of the patio, she pulled up, stopping in her tracks. Then she projectile-puked all over the patio floor, with about six patrons looking on and in smelling distance. Like I said, just when you are feeling good, kids know how to take you down a notch. Fucking awesome.

For a Monday

Things are a vast improvement over last week. Rollie only got one timeout at school today and is being pretty agreeable today. He is very excited because he had a personal phone call, just for him, from his Uncle Lyle. I ran four miles, then walked another .9. I think I easily could have run farther, but I got a blister, which was okay until it opened up, and then not so much. Also, no one so far today has thought that I look pregnant.

But it's only 2:21 p.m.

Call Me Tipper

Yesterday, Tiller and I dropped Rollie off at school, then headed for the gym. We were coming through Oakhurst and were on 2nd Ave. We stopped at the four-way stop at Oakview. This intersection is across a two-lane street (Oakview) which has a grassy median in the middle. So, when you are crossing on 2nd, you go across one lane of traffic, then there is an area that cuts between the grassy median, and then you cross the other lane of Oakview. We were the first car there, then two other cars pulled up: One at the Stop to our left, and one at the Stop directly across from us. There was no one at the Stop sign to our right. We began to cross and as I reached the beginning of the middle of the intersection, a truck (Ford F150-sized, I'd say) came blowing through his Stop sign on my right. He was going about 40-45 miles and hour and didn't even slow for his Stop sign. I slammed on my brakes, and skidded a few feet in the median section, coming to a stop only a few feet from where the truck passed. I sat on the horn, taught Tiller how to give the bird, and then started shaking. If we had been one second faster, the truck would have hit the front, right side of my van. Another two seconds, and it would have t-boned us on Tiller's side of the van. Either way, it would have fucked us up, if not killing her.

I spent the next hour or two just thinking about the tenuousness of our existence on this earth, the preciousness of a baby girl, and how quickly the rug can be pulled out from under us, control completely out of our reach. I was FREAKED. Today, I am not so shaky and wigged out, but still kind of scared and angry when I think about it.

Anyway, we picked up Rollie from school and found out that he has been acting out in class. He is hitting, kicking, pushing, and won't stay in line. They also informed me that Rollie was the most difficult child in the class. Great. Just what a conscientious mother wants to hear. Sure, the teacher added that it was most likely his age - he is the youngest child in his class, and he is within a week of the birthday "grade cutoff" in the state of Georgia.

We have been seeing some of the same behavior at home. Todd and I have been at our wits' ends (albeit, our wits don't encompass that much distance) trying to figure out the origin and the solution. Along with this more physical behavior, he has been saying things like,

"I wanna be first."

"I win."

"I wanna be in front."

"You are a joke!"

Rollie continues to bump and cut in front of us. Not a big deal for us, as I know who is going to win if we have a Rollie/Daddy collision; A little bit bigger deal when wobbly, only-walking-for-a-few-months Tiller is the one being bumped and cut off. We have tried taking away privileges and toys. We have tried consistent time-outs. We have, on occasion, tried spanking for extremely blatant and strong physical behavior. Nothing has worked.

He has also been asking us repeatedly "Mama, why do cars bump?" We would answer, "It is not nice to bump." We had long conversations about how good cars do not bump, and that bad cars bump, and that we will not accept the behavior. In one ear and out the other. He still asked about why they do it, as if I am capable of explaining good and evil?

It became obvious to me after talking to the teachers yesterday, and giving good thought to his behavior at home. It is the influence of that seemingly-innocuous, Oscar-nominated movie "Cars." His favorite movie. The one he once watched three consecutive times in one day while sick on the couch. The one that is going to break his heart, because we are not letting him watch it anymore.

Yep, it seems that Rollie is questioning us about the behavior, because he can't watch the movie and tell that some of the cars are good, and some are bad. He is not capable yet of drawing that line between acceptable and non-acceptable behavior. And so it begins: We have now censored what he watches to the extent that we are not allowing him to watch something that he wants to watch. As I type, he is laying on the couch watching that little PBS pussy, Caillou. Sigh.

Wow. Call me Tipper.