Vocabulary

One of the most entertaining parts of the parenting thing is the rapidity with which a child's vocabulary grows; They really are little sponges, constantly soaking up everything around them, both good and bad. It is fun to watch, and a little scary, as they mirror the very things that you say and do, day in and day out, very closely. Things that adults say sound benign, but out of the mouths of babes . . . yikes.

I have written about the divided household we are running here; I am a Georgia fan, Todd is an Auburn fan, and the kids are confused. Add to the confusion trying to explain that we still love Grandma, even though she is a Vols fan, and that Uncle Mark is a Gator fan, and we hate Gators, but that he is still a good person. SEC families are a tricky road to navigate with children.

Rollie and I were having a discussion the other day about how we can like both Dawgs and Tigers, but that Dawgs are a little bit better. My mother overheard this and told Rollie that Vols were better than both. I thought that I had deprogrammed the child after this conversation, but evidently I was wrong. On the way home from dinner the next night, Rollie said out of nowhere:

"Mama, I like Gators."

"No, you don't."

"But I like Vols. . ."

"No, Rollie, you don't like Vols. They are yucky."

A pregnant pause from the backseat. I looked in the rear view mirror to see Rollie frowning and deep in thought. I was still looking at his reflection in the mirror when he lifted his face to look right at the back of my head and yelled "Vols, Damn it!"

[sigh]

Where to start? What is more offensive? The fact that he learned his first four-letter word, or the fact that he thinks he likes Tennessee?

"Rollie, where did you learn that word?"

"From Grandma."

"No, Rollie, the other word. Where did you learn that one?"

"Papaw Cecil said it when he was at the door."

I think it would be best for the child if he just didn't see Grandma and Papaw anymore.

Dance Mix

I was out with the girls a few weeks ago, and one of us asked everyone else what songs really made us want to get up and dance. She is putting a playlist together for her wedding, and was looking for suggestions.

Since then, I have been creating the wedding dance playlist of the century; 12 hours of butt-shaking goodness, which needs to be weeded down to about four hours. I have it down to about 7 at this point. For example, I can dance my ass off to Jesus and Mary Chain's "Reverence," but it is a wedding reception, with grandmas and great uncles, after all, and is your Mama's best friend really gonna get off on a song that says, "I want to die just like Jesus Christ?" Probably not. It turns out that, upon reflection, much of mine and Todd's music is the devil's work, and we are going straight to the fires of hell. Right after I finish this playlist.

I thought, though, that before i started the weeding process, I would poll the Internet for final suggestions. What are your all-time favorite dance songs? And I know. You don't like to dance. You can't dance. BlahBlahBlah. You know there are a few songs that you can't help moving your feet to, even if it is only in your bedroom with a hairbrush, or while you are cooking dinner alone at night.

Be honest. If it is "Let's Hear if For the Boy" or "Dancing in the Sheets" from the Footloose soundtrack, just say so.

Not that I like that one or anything. I mean, what? No. I never owned that album. Shut up, Lisa.

Life as Competition

I've been really slack about the blogging of late. We went to the beach, and for some reason, summer in general makes me want to be doing stuff, instead of writing about doing stuff. Which then makes me feel guilty because I'm not being the blogger I want to be.

I'm not being the runner I want to be, either. On the running front, I have been a total slacker the last week. To be fair, the workout after my 7 miles was yucky, and then ever since then, I have been having both knee and ankle pain. So, I felt guilt and more guilt about not running while I was at the beach, but then ran 4.02 miles today in my normal 45 minute workout. That is the fastest pace I have finished it in, so interesting that I could take almost a week off and come out and do better than I thought I would. The other weird part was that I walked parts of it because it was so sucky, and then I ran faster than normal on the running parts. Also, no knee or ankle pain, so maybe the days off were for the best.

Other stuff going on: I meant to blog about it, but didn't. I finally read Life of Pi, which came out years ago, but has been on my to read pile for ever. Holy shit was that a great book. Instant classic, and a book that really sticks with me. I think about it probably once a day, in some way or another. If you haven't read it, i highly recommend it.

Also on my rec list: The Shadow of the Wind. Amazingly fun read and the most enjoyable book I've read in a long while. It is like a love letter to literature, a little fantastic, but in that space of fantasy that is real enough to seem plausible and tangible. Daniel, the protagonist, is lovable and endearing. His foibles (damn it, Sarah Silverman!!) are so everyman that you feel like they happened to you while you are reading. Maybe they did happen to you. Or will. Very difficult to describe what i mean by that, but the line between the novel itself, The Shadow of the Wind, the characters in the novel, the book by the same name that is its own character in the novel, and you the reader is all very blurry; While reading it, you feel as if you are a character in the novel, and in a way, you are. It is a fun and smart book with memorable, personable characters, not the least of which is the City of Barcelona. (Must. go. there. now.) Thanks to Mike for mentioning it. Now I am in that state where i wonder if it will become a movie, then realize what foolishness that would be to hope for, and then start thinking to myself who the cast should be.

Now I'm reading The Crossing, by Cormac McCarthy, because I was the one who loved All The Pretty Horses first, Todd. I told you and told you to read it, and you wouldn't, until McCarthy pulled the old apocalypse novel card, and only then was it considered cool enough for you to give it a whirl. Of course, for you and your ilk, that coolness has now been canceled out by virtue of McCarthy being an Oprah pick. Ha! The cruel hands of fate. . . Anyway, point being, Todd finally picked up All the Pretty Horses, and I can't let him get ahead of me in the race.

Yes, everything is a competition with me.

Trivia Time

Slow day here for me. We are getting ready to go to the beach, and I just don't have much interesting to say about my little old life. I just want to escape it with a bigass margarita in hand.

I played trivia last night with some of The Creekers. Honorary Creeker, Camille was there, too. We are all heavier, balder, and grayer, but it is so comforting to be with people who have known you since before you quit wetting the bed. We used to play trivia together a lot more than we do now. I think we used to be better, too. We definitely used to drink more.

Anyway, Leelee was the big brain last night, but every decent trivia team knows that not only do you have to have people with vast trivial knowledge, but those people also have to be know-it-alls and push their right answers on the rest of the team. Lisa evidently still thinks that me and Ev are actually smart; I know good and well she has been there for much of my brain-cell-destroying activities, so Leelee, speak up. You were the smartest one there last night! Argue with us. We like it.

The first half of questions were easy peasy. We kinda tanked on the second half. Questions (paraphrased based on my patchy memory,) with answers to come tonight:

1. On Family Feud, what did most respondents say is most often given to people in the hospital?
2. What product uses the advertising phrase "Taste the Rainbow?"
3. What movie did Tom Cruise have to learn Japanese sword-fighting and the Japanese language for?
4. What major city does Logan airport serve?
5. What sport did b-baller Joaquim (sp?) Noah's father, Yannick, play?
6. What hormone does the pancreas produce that lowers blood glucose levels?
7. What talk show host is married to Marlo Thomas?
8. What word, from the latin for "to entrust," means to keep a jury in isolation?
9. What jazz trumpeter was nicknamed "satchmo?"
10. Halftime question:
11. What four artists did the song, "That's What Friends are For?"
12. What Four Seasons song title came from a Clark Gable movie line?
13. Which of the following is the Laker's all-time top scorer? Kareem, Jerry West, or Magic Johnson?
14. What branch of our military has a red stripe on their dress blues called a "blood line?"
15. In the zodiac, what sign are you if you are born on Feb. 29th?
16. On what continent is the Balkan peninsula?
17. What '92 movie had the tagline, "You'll laugh, You'll cry, You'll Hurl?"
18. What computer modeling program demo became famous after being featured on the tv show Ally McBeal?
19. Which of the following had a number one hit in the UK with their song, "Cherish:" The Association, Kook and the Gang, or Madonna?
20. Whose wife and daughter were killed in a plane crash, ironically, near Mt. Everest?
21. Final Question:
22. Of the ten top-grossing films of all time, which two are not sequels and do not have sequels?

Come on, smart people.

Holy Crap. I Ran Seven Miles.

Wrote this up yesterday and forgot to click Publish:

Long day. Got up with kiddos at 7 am. Fixed breakfast and changed diapers. Waited till Todd got up and then went for my run at 9 a.m. Would have liked to go earlier, but Todd had only had a few hours of sleep the night before, so I didn't want to wake him.

Anyway, did my 7 miler today. I am kind of amazed that I did it. If you had told me six months ago that I would be able to run from my house in East Atlanta, all the way to Grant Park, and back, I would have told you that was crazy talk. I walked parts (hill up Ormewood to Boulevard? Riiiiighht.. . sure, I'm gonna run up that thing. No problem.) But for the most part, I ran it. I conquered some smaller hills that would have beaten me a month or so ago, so that was good. Also, my pace was faster than last week's six miler, although not as fast as the 6 mile run of a couple weeks ago. I brought water this time, and didn't wait until noon. I am smart like that.

In other exciting parts of my run, I was allowed to refill my water at the lovely home of Carrie and Charlotte in Ormewood (many thanks to them - I miscalculated my water stops this time around), and I witnessed the Start of a race at the Brownwood Bike Rally, which probably messed up part of my time, but was kind of cool to see. There was a kid on a tricycle, and a guy on a unicycle. Pretty awesome.

I was back in time to just about kill myself getting myself and kids dressed for Scarlett's birthday party, and to clean house in case random buyers wanted to purchase said house, which - let's be honest - ain't ever gonna happen.

All in all, a lovely day. Proud of me, proud of my ability to skip cupcakes after the 7 miles. Maybe I will lose a freakin' pound one of these days.

Below, the resisted cupcakes, being consumed by husband and kids.

Deep Thoughts from Middle Georgia

Mostly, I'm thinking: So, the United States is making it their business to police the world, but they can't even keep Paris Hilton in prison for 72 hours. . . .

In other ultra-exciting news: This has been my worst exercise week ever. Between the in-laws and parents and the number of sweets they have lying around, and the being on the road, and the heat of central Alabama and Georgia, and the wine drinking required to weather all of this, I am surprised I managed to get any exercise in. I did seek out the YMCA in fabulous Warner Robins, GA today. It is vastly different from the one I use in Atlanta. Gravel driveway. No air conditioning. Old machines that wobble. No pool. All in one big sheet metal, barn-like building. But hey, i did today's run.

I was supposed to do it yesterday and x-train today, but that didn't happen. Just like Saturday's run didn't happen until Monday, which knocked off both Monday and Wednesday schedules. It would have been easier to catch up if I had been at home, instead of a town that is all four-lane highways with no sidewalks. Okay, actually, when I was leaving the Y today, I took a back way home and found a good long place to run where I won't be roadkill. But jesus. There are no trees out there.

Anyway, today's run was not the best, but I did four miles and then checked out the new Starbucks here in town. I should say, the first and only Starbucks. It was funny to see old Ford pickup trucks with gun racks in the drive-thru.

Will be home tomorrow, as will Todd, so I can stop living on the charity of family.

Worst. Run. Ever.

You can't even call it a run, because i was so freakin' slow. I ran at my in-laws, in eastern middle Alabama, which is usually awesome, because they live in the middle of the woods, basically, in a huge neighborhood. Not a lot of cars, lots of wildlife, lake views, etc.

Yesterday, though, I had to go at almost noon. It was hot and muggy, and I didn't bring water. They didn't have any water bottles lying around, and so I figured I would stop and get water at the fire station, the golf clubhouse, and/or the driving range. Turns out they don't have spigots on buildings around golf courses. I guess it is all on a sprinkler system. My first three miles were fine, maybe even faster than normal pace, but man, when I figured out there was no water to be had, and I still had three miles to go, with no chance of finding water between there and home, I was just not feeling it. Oh, and I got lost. Again.

I finished, with much walking, much cramping, and a fuckload of cussing at myself.

Lesson learned.

6.2 Miles = 1hr 28 min 31secs (14 minutes 17 seconds pace)
Catcalls from construction workers: 2 (What were they thinking? I must have looked like death eatin' a ham sandwich.)

Wetumpka

I walk into gas station, or service station, as Todd's Dad calls it, in Wetumpka, AL. I get a bottled water out of the cooler and walk up to the register. A young, pierced and tattooed couple is in front of me buying smokes. The girl pays, chatting with the woman working the register. I remind myself that when in small town, do as the small town do; relax. No one is in a hurry. At all. They do their "How's your mom'n'em?" and then the guy moves up and asks for a lighter. The fat woman behind the register is wearing a t-shirt that says, "There's an eternal party in Hell. It's a BBQ and you don't want to be invited."

Her: "What color?"

Him: "Anything but blue."

He pays, and I move up to pay for my water.

Her: "I don't like red. Except for the color of Jesus' blood that he shed for me."

Okay.

About an Old Friend

There's a pretty cool article in today's New York Times, written by Aimee Mann, about "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band." This weekend is the 40th anniversary of the release of the album; It came out about five years before I was released.

The interesting thing about the article is that she reminded me of what I thought of the album as a kid. At 35, I have lots of other ideas about the album that I've picked up here and there throughout the years, but she reminded me of the sheer curiosity with which a child picked that album up out of all of her parents' other albums.

I am a lucky girl - My parents listened to some pretty cool stuff. Mom liked folk and rock and roll: She was a card-carrying member of the Elvis Presley Fan Club, but also listened to The Everly Brothers, Ricky Nelson, The Beach Boys, Bob Dylan, Jan and Dean, Crosby, Stills, and Nash, and Peter, Paul, and Mary. I still remember wondering what "Virgin" meant - One of her friends had written it on her Bob Dylan album cover. (Her name is Virginia.)

Dad listened to rock and roll, too, but his tastes leaned more towards Jerry Lee Lewis and lots of 60's soul. I still to this day think Otis Redding is the best "cleaning up the house on Saturday" music ever. I wore out all of the Otis discs and that Stax/Volt Review album he had. My sister and I put on clown makeup and danced around the playroom to the Everly Bros.' "Kathy's Clown." To be fair to my parents, they also listened to some great classic country and 70's honky-tonk Country and Western, too. People, we had a dog named "Waylon." I shit you not.

Nothing, however, could compare to the magic a kid felt looking at that Sgt. Pepper's album, and then finding that what was on the inside was just as other-worldly. In later years, Sgt. Pepper's was the album I listened to (on endless repeat, all night long) the first time I did LSD. In fact, that experience made me not want to listen to if for years and years after.

But after reading Aimee Mann's article this morning, I decided it was time to pull it out and listen to it again. Okay, i don't have the album anymore, but Todd has a Beatles problem, and we own 22 Beatles albums; We could listen to The Beatles for 17 hours straight, according to ITunes. So, here I am, listening to "Good Morning, Good Morning" and thinking that it has been too long since I listened to this old friend.

Gotta go. The dog is barking. Oh wait. That's just Sgt. Pepper's.

Look, Mama

"Look, Mama," Rollie says from the kitchen table. I am sitting at the computer in the den and I can't see him. "I made something!"

[momentary pause]
Me: "As long as it isn't a mess, that's awesome."

Morose: Marked by or expressive of gloom

One of those days where everything just seems so hard. Even using complete sentences. Getting out of bed. Going for a run. Getting house cleaned for showing, even though no one is ever going to fucking buy it anyway. Taking kids to sister's, where Rollie craps in his pants, and we have to put women's shorts on him for lunch at Fellini's. Fall asleep on couch thinking husband is sick in bed upstairs and miss out on opportunity for nap time sex. Go to dinner with kids and husband and baby throws food everywhere. (Silver lining: Both of my kids are pieces of gold compared to brats in restaurant at same time, and whose parents seem immune to their screams. Take the cotton out of your ears, y'all, your kids are a fucking nuisance. Please remove them from the establishment.) Get home and realize no time to get in run before dark, so get bike out for a 30-minute ride and find tires need inflating and will not have time for ride either. Wonder why physically incapable of getting out of bed before seven. Water garden (illegally? Too morose to check watering restrictions) while thinking that for being this tired, you should have accomplished something. Anything.

Go drink beer and watch t.v. Not even energy to write or blog. Okay. Always energy to blog.

I like the word gloom. Feeling gloom? Not so much.

Yikes

So, I pride myself on the fairly healthy meals we serve to the children. I cook most nights and we eat at home a lot, but I am not a nazi about it. My kids are really healthy eaters, and will eat a lot, including the good stuff. They eat broccoli, green beans, and even salad. No, I am not kidding. I am very proud of myself for having the balls to continue giving them things until they learn to like them, because teaching kids to eat veggies is not for the faint of heart.

We do usually eat out on Thursday and/or Friday nights. It is kind of a tradition in the family. Another tradition is that if the kids are good, I let them have the golden arches for lunch on Fridays. Sure, it is bribery ("If you are good in school all week, then you can have french fries on Friday.") but every good parent knows that bribes are part of the game.

The problem with McD's Fridays is that I have NO WILLPOWER when it comes to ordering them the french fries, and me the salad or whatever else is healthy on the menu. (I wouldn't know what is healthy on the menu, because I've never once opted for the healthy choice when at a drive-through window.)

That may change, though. Call me an exercise anorexic or what you will, but I had the Quarter Pounder with Cheese Value meal (with diet coke, of course!) and I felt like crap afterwards. Decided I would maybe go to the gym to work it off.

Here's the deal:

Calories in Quarter Pounder with Cheese = 510
Calories in Large Fries = 570
Calories burned in one hour of swimming (what i thought i would do today as cross-training, since i am doing my long run tomorrow) = For my weight, a little over 563 calories.

I would have to swim for two hours straight to work off that fucking burger and fries. I am never eating them again. Ever.

Tell me I said that if you ever see me eat that shit again.

Then duck.