Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Two Thoughts Tuesday: Mysteries Edition

1) The human body is amazing. Truly. I think about this quite a bit when I am working out. Mostly, I am blown away by how my body adapts to the changes that I am insisting on forcing it into. It's really kind of neat to think about how difficult/darn near impossible I used to find certain exercises that I can now do with (relative) ease. It makes me a bit high on my own potential actually.

And while this change is gradual, I do have markers along the way to let me know I'm moving in the right direction. I call those markers: PAIN. As in the soreness of the muscles that I feel the next day. That is nature's way of telling me that yes, I can have a sleeker body, but it's going to cost me in spades. Or ThermaCares as the case may be.  Most of the time, as I'm performing an exercise, the active muscle is firing so much that I know there will be pain the next day. The burning I feel is kind of a warm up for the agony I'll be made to endure 24 to 48 hours later. Wince for wince, overall I'd say it's worth it. At least I know what I'm getting myself into. I'm asking for it really.

But sometimes, I wake up to soreness that I was not at all prepared for. I wrack (rack?) my brain trying to recall just what torture was inflicted that is now causing me to scream in protest every time I take a step forward. And I come up with nothing because to the best of my memory I sailed right on through the prior workout without any real distress or discomfort. But I NEED to know what caused this pain so I can be sure to never, ever do it again. Like, I mean ever.

At this point, I have two choices. a) I can mime my way through every movement that I executed the day before. Believe me, I'll know when the culprit has been found and chances are also good that so will every other person within earshot. or b) I can go right to the source. Which is why earlier today my trainer received the following text: Why does my ass hurt?  Oddly, she has yet to reply. I mean after seven years, you'd think she'd be expecting such a message and have a response typed and ready to be sent.  It seems she has not adapted as well as I have, eh?

2) How can something be so terrorific one minute and so darn sweet the next?


To ensure survival of the species or something? Nature. That chick knew what she was doing.

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Listen

Knock it off. Yes, Mother Nature, I'm looking at you. I don't know if you have some kind of under the table deal with Old Man Winter or what, but this 40° rainy, windy day? I am not amused. Twas but a few days ago, Amaya and I were running around jacketless outside smelling the flowers


and now today here I am wearing my sweat pants, toes tucked under a blanket with hands wrapped tightly around my mug of coffee trying to siphon some of its warmth into the icicles I call fingers.  I mean it is Spring right?

And now I hear rumblings about possible snow over the weekend?  Really lady? Snow?! You go ahead and do what you want Ms. Nature, but just know that if I see even a single white flake you are hereby removed from my Christmas Card List. Permanently. Think about that for a bit why dontcha?

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Two Thoughts Tuesday: On Rainbows and Unicorns

1) I am sure that I've mentioned before what a finicky eater my son is. Child is not at all interested in widening his culinary palate--he'll stick with pancakes, chicken nuggets, chocolate milk and corn dogs thankyouverymuch. That doesn't mean that I ever stop trying to fandango a vegetable or high quality protein into his system though. I look at it almost like a challenge--as if the the gauntlet has been thrown down and my only recourse is to get the kid to eat a carrot or perish in the effort. Sadly, if my life depends on getting the kid to ingest anything green then I fear my days on this earth are numbered.

I did have a bit of hope this weekend when we took the kids to Benihana.  Chase was having the time of his life chatting up the chef, laughing hysterically at all of his tricks.


I thought for sure that since he had watched someone prepare a meal especially for him--with gusto even--that Chase would happily scarf up that chicken and rice. Ha! As the chef was putting the food on his plate, my child says, "No thank you. I don't eat that." Ummm it's chicken kid--just like the nuggets only not deep fried and covered in bread. Oh, I see the problem here. Never mind. 

Now his sister, well she's the garbage pail of the family. She'll try anything. 

I am not kidding. Yesterday, I found her digging moldy strawberries out of the trash and shoving them in her mouth. Appetite for indigestion. 


2) When I was a teenager wrestling with all the drama and horrendously awful days that entails, my mother would always tell me "This too shall pass" which at the time was not overly helpful. But as I've gotten older and wiser (ahem!) it has come to be a great steadying phrase in my head when I'm feeling overwhelmed or sad or angry. It is comforting to be able to put those rotten days into perspective and remember that they aren't permanent. Eventually, I will feel relief again. The pain will subside. The aggravation will alleviate. Nothing lasts forever and this period of angst won't even come close. 

But on the flip side of that are the happy times. The exhilarating moments that take our breath away and fill our chests with that bubble of joy that grows so big we think it will certainly explode inside us releasing a giddy spray of rainbow and unicorn shrapnel. Those too shall pass just as surely as the bad moments. More swiftly even and often before we've had the chance to realize how beautiful that nanosecond really was.   

I just finished reading The Days of Awe by Hugh Nissenson, and it contains the most simple, yet captivating line: "Ah, moment, stay!" Those words have been ringing in my ears for a few days now, and I feel that I must answer their summons and remember to acknowledge those precious minutes of grace that pass through my life and bid them to remain a few minutes more.



"Ah, moment, stay!"

Friday, March 18, 2011

A different kind of green

Looking a bit green around the gills, isn't she?


Yes, my poor little Petunia is feeling a bit under the weather today. She's got a fever and a cough and is pretty much all around miserable. And of course this is happening on a beautiful 70°+ day. Sun is shining, but I'll only get to see it peeking through the windows as my attention will be focused on this:


Which is okay because I'm still looking at a sunshine, a sad one yes, but still my sunshine.

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Wearin' O' the Green

This one greeted me first thing this morning with a reminder that wasn't it St. Patrick's Day and didn't I buy him a new shirt to wear today, and is it really ok that he doesn't wear a school shirt today? Yes,  he's my excitable little worrier.

This one was a sleepy head and had a rough time waking up this morning. She was not interested in cooperating with any of my plans for coordinating tops & bottoms as she insisted on dressing herself. I am considering forwarding this picture on to the Sartorialist. Lil miss is a trendsetter if I ever saw one.

And me, well between the side braid and the gingham, I think I'm channeling Ellie Mae more than any Irish ancestry I may possess.
But it's green, so y'all better just keep your pinchin' fingers to yourselves.

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Two Thoughts Tuesday: Public Service Addition

1) It is not wise to use a plastic spoon to stir Margaritas while simultaneously depressing the pulse button on your blender. Trust me on this:

I am currently wanted in the state of Maryland for the murder of an innocent utensil and the mutilation of an alcoholic beverage. Being on the lamb is tough, y'all--it's not like I'm eating bonbons here.

So my advice to you is this--use a metal spoon. Or um just don't stir while the blender is on. Either or. 



2) A few months ago, the grocery store had Gain dishwashing soap on sale for $.99 and I had two $.50 coupons that would double to a dollar. So of course I had to scoop up my free bottles of liquid soap.  You might be confused right now since you may only know of Gain as a laundry detergent. Apparently, they're diversifying their portfolio or something.  I don't know, it was free. I don't ask questions when something's free. 


But perhaps I should have. I finally got around to opening a bottle of it today, and well, its scent is quite similar to that of the laundry detergent. So now my pots and pans smell like my socks, and I'm just not sure how I feel about that.

Friday, March 04, 2011

WTFriday

My mother and I love to go thrifting in search of treasures. It's mainly the hunt of it that thrills me most.  You just never know what you're going to come across when you're inside a thrift store. Which is why when I saw three shiny, red boxes on the shelf last weekend, I knew I had to get a closer look. I mean who wouldn't be curious as to what a Marie Osmond Fine Collectible entails.



Of all of the possibilities that ran through my head prior to opening the box--and believe me I had some strange ideas--none of them came anywhere near the horror that actually awaited me.



Perhaps a bit closer of a look?




Dude. And I thought Hedda was creepy.  Marie Osmond has some 'splainin' to do.

Wednesday, March 02, 2011

There's been a lot of talk of WINNING lately

So how fortuitous then that I happened upon this lovely portrait while cleaning out my inbox today. This photo dates back to December, and yes it's pretty much been that long since I last plowed my way through the gnarly gnarlingtonness of my inbox. Anyway--the point here is that this is what winning looks like to me:

Not my winning. Oh no. My friend Molly is the one winning for finding that book for my son. You're confused. I understand. My thought process is hard to follow if you happen to be in possession of a normal brain as I assume most of you are.  Let me draw your attention to the book's title. You see, back in October, I'd made a silly little video that all of my friends love to laugh at. Perhaps you remember it? If so, then you know how much of a rock star from Mars Molly really was. But perhaps you've forgotten and/or never watched it in the first place. Well, I'm here for my people, so I have provided y'all with the video and the post completely unabridged :


I have something that I simply must share--Real Housewives of DC confessional style:



Did I get that silky smooth, always calm tone down just right? I think I hear Bravo calling now. Oh, and remember, this is just between you and me, don't tell anyone now, ya hear?

Hmm now that I think about it, maybe I'm winning too..bi-WINNING it is.

Wacka Wacka

In honor of Dr. Seuss, today is Wacky Wednesday at school. This is what my son wore:

Is it just me, or does he look a bit like a shorter, paler Lenny Kravitz? Kid's got mad style yo.

Tuesday, March 01, 2011

Two Thoughts Tuesday: Remember Me?

1) When I was in junior high, the guy who lived across the street from me drove a cherry red Dodge Stealth. I'd stare out my window at that beautiful piece of machinery while contemplating all the ways that I could con the man into falling for me so hard that he'd give me my own set of keys complete with  disco ball key chain while saying: 'Sure, baby you can drive my car.' So what if he was probably 30 and I was 13--age ain't nothing but a number when we're talking about sexy little advanced sports coupes. The Stealth was my dream--he was just the Ambien to get me there.

So today as I was driving to the library, I ended up behind an identical Stealth. Well, identical 20 years ago perhaps. This one had been pretty beaten up over the years: the paint worn down and faded to a sad tomato-ish color, taillights duct taped over, dents outnumbering scratches. And I was heartbroken that I no longer felt that quickening pulse when my gaze fell upon the car--it was too old to get me excited anymore. And then I thought to myself--I bet that's exactly how I look too. Past my prime. I think I'll eat a cupcake now.

2) Chase is rarely amused by his sister's attempts to play with his toys. It's kind of funny the lengths he will go to in order to keep her from touching his batman stash--he will even go so far as to travel all the way up to her room to get her Tinkerbell just to have something to distract her from his shiny baubles. And if that doesn't work, then he whines and yells and hisses at her to leave him alone. It's loads of fun at 7AM let me tell you.

   Which is why I find it amusing that tonight after music while we were waiting for Daddy and Amaya to return home, Chase was practically jumping out of his pants so anxious was he to see his sister. At the slightest of sounds, he'd jump up and run to the mudroom saying, "Amaya?" It was so cute and adorable that I thought, "Oh finally, he's starting to appreciate the sibling that I bore solely to give him a playmate. Thank heavens."

But no. Within 5 minutes of their reuniting, it was back to the standard knockdown, drag out brawl.
Guess it's true what they say about absence making the heart grow fonder. I think I'll test that out a bit by excusing myself for awhile.