That makes me think of the time...

Throughout different conversations this week, I have had a few stories pop into my mind. We all have them filed away and whenever triggered by some conversation, can make you laugh just has hard each time.

The first memory involved me and my friends, on bike, all congregated at the end of our street and my sister, Jess, loitering on foot. I can't remember the why or the how, but around the corner comes running this pit bull, barking and heading straight for us at full speed. Screaming, we all turn and take off on our bikes, self preservation alone in mind. The thing I forgot? Jess, running as fast as she can on foot, yelling after us, dog close behind. It is funny now because there was no mauling or any mal intent by the dog at all. Just me and my friends, leaving the 7 year old to fend for herself. I wasn't sticking around...that dog was scary. (Don't feel too bad for her, I could let Tina create an entire post of the things Jess got her into. Like stuck in a stack of tires at Sam's and paying Jess money to win back her toys at auction)

When talking about cars and getting stuck here or there, I remembered two stories. The first was riding with my Grandpa Pettit in his gold (fill in the blank with some car type that I should know but don't) and like in some movie, having the hood fly up while driving down the road, completely blocking us from seeing. He's slamming on the break, we are all screaming. Sadly, there was no Tommy Boy oil can to blame. Just an unlatched hood. The second was driving with Keysha in my blue '91 Grand Am to get Taco Bell around midnight one night. You can't help when you crave a bean burrito. We missed the entrance to the restaurant and so Keysha (who is driving) pulls into the entry which was a lot that had yet to be purchased and was still a field. This is where the normal person would have made a circle and then pulled back into the street. Keysha and I decided, however, that we could just drive through the field around the back of Taco Bell and get to the drive in that way. So, there we are off roading through the field until we come to an abrupt halt, the front end of the car stuck in a ditch we didn't see coming and the back end sticking up in the air. Not having cell phones, we trudge back through the field and across the street to McDonalds to use their payphone and call Amy, who thankfully drug herself out of bed knowing that Lance had a wench on his truck. Long story short, at about 1 in the morning, there 8 freshmen stood in a field, trying to unstick my car from the mud. Teenagers really are idiots.

The third came up when John and I were discussing the use of Babblefish to translate something from French to English. When John worked in the call center for Cox, he had received a call from a Spanish speaking customer and instead of taking a message for one of the bilingual reps, had decided to use Babblefish to try and troubleshoot the problem. Not knowing any Spanish whatsoever, he is typing phrases in and then trying to read them over the phone, not having any clue what their responses mean nor how to pronounce the words on the screen. Most of the conversation involved the customers saying "Que?" and laughing on their end of the phone. It took him 1 hour and 15 minutes to get through the call that should take 7 max. I just love that man.

Did any of this make you think of any stories of your own? Do share.

Nothing to Report

It feels like the last several days...weeks....have begun to run together. Me standing, half awake, while they swirl around me, taking me from morning to night and then back again. Even now, as I sit down to type, my eyes struggle to stay open. Typing while in bed was potentially a bad decision. I would love to share some dramatic story where I intervened in a mugging or completed a dry run as Iron Man, but my days have been full and busy but not entirely noteworthy. I went grocery shopping and remembered to ask for a bag of ice at checkout. I made fajitas that were great and spanish rice that was entirely sub par. I painted a gym for 4 hours and am fairly certain after painting the boys bathroom that they had decided that it was so far gone, painting would be easier than cleaning. The memory of that smell is trapped vividly in my head. The picture of wiping up white paint and the towel coming up brown. We raked leaves into piles that should have been handled in fall and while intentions were good, at this point we have basically just migrated them from a pile in the plants to a pile on the grass. John and Ross worked on my dad's old bike. They have visions of restoration and cruising down the road. Joshy spent hours as Iron Man and the Hulk, while Ben danced with me, tapping his happy feet. I received my shipment from Arbor Day and the hedges I envisioned planting are literally one stem shooting out of a moist towel. I was expecting...wider. It is going to take me 15 years to grow a hedge. Tina ran out of gas and walked home. Jess showed us all pictures of Ben's "twin" that looked nothing like him. Watched Twilight...twice. Watched Dad convince Jess Missouri was spelled with "z"s. Went to Target for diapers, came back with a sweater and shampoo. Leaped up off the treadmill when OSU beat Tenn. Almost pissed when they fought Pitt to the end. Who doesn't have Pitt in the final four? Was annoyed every time I went to the bathroom knowing I would just have to go again. Weighed Joshy's argument that he should have 4 elmo treats as he is 4 years old. Went over names of objects we saw, all of which Ben calls "ball". Laid in bed on Sunday night and wished the week didn't start till Tuesday.

Quote of the Week

This is the challenge of writing. You have to be very emotionally engaged in what you're doing, or it comes out flat. You can't fake your way thought this. - RealLivePreacher.com Weblog

Happy St. Patrick's Day from the He-Man Woman Hater Club

He Walks!!!

Running Update

I have three more weeks until the Redbud and can currently run 2 miles but not yet three. Three more weeks does not seem long but I am going to keep at it because who would've thought at the start of this thing that I could run 25 minutes straight. The first day I ran 60 seconds and was looking for oxygen. I made it 30 seconds and then had to willpower out the rest, hoping no one was paying attention to the chubby girl dying on the treadmill. I spent most of the time running contemplating just how embarrassing falling and shooting off the machine would truly be. Was it like "you can live it down" embarrassing or labeled "face plant girl" in the yearbook embarrassing? The first time I ran 5 minutes and then the first time I ran 10. Each milestone was a nothing to the chick in spandex running 10 miles at 7.6 but to me, a big deal. The best part is when you start to see muscles that you haven't seen in years and to run through a parking lot with a kid on your back and not feeling at all near death. I remember when I had about a five minute limit when laden with kid on shoulders. Now I am the pack mule John always wanted. As far as the race, I will let you know how it goes. Think of me on April 5th and wish me...well, just wish me the luck to not embarrass myself completely with a "tripping on the one stone in the road" situation or a "you tucked your shorts in your underwear and I can see your butt". Those would be a good start.

When a door closes, a window opens...

After their Christmas visit, Mr. and Mrs. Marcellus unintentionally absconded to Florida with our house key. At first, it was simply a "haven't got around to it yet" when it came to securing a replacement. I don't know at what point that became a rather sad excuse but I am certain it was sometime between then and three months later, i.e. now. So, long story short, I still don't have a key to the front door. I do, however, have a key to the back door. The door handle. The deadbolt cannot be unlocked from the outside. John has the only front door key but it has not posed a problem as we leave the deadbolt on the back door unlocked for me. Let me rephrase that. We had been leaving it unlocked for me. Today at 5:15 as I tried to get in the house, that "had" was no longer the case. John Nathan, clearly distracted by my prolific praise, had forgotten that he locked the deadbolt the night before when he left for work this morning. So there I stand, unable to get into the house by front door or back, John not scheduled to be home for 45 minutes and really not doing much thinking about the traits of John's I love. At this point my options were to sit in the car and play brick breaker (as Blackberry owners can attest...addictive, but not 45 minute addictive) or find another way in. It was then I remembered that I had opened a window in the dining room on Sunday and hadn't locked it back. Now, the problems with this were twofold. First, these are old wooden windows that don't exactly glide up and down. Secondly, when standing on the ground, the window sill is as high as my shoulders. So, all things considered, we were looking at a good chance this might not end well. Step one, open window. It gave easily with my first push and opened up as far as I had cracked it on Sunday. Beyond that, it gave unevenly and would sometimes lose as much ground as it gained. Usually suddenly and alarmingly. When I finally had it as high as it would stay on its own, and reasonably convinced that if it did fall it could not possibly cut me in half, I threw in my bags and purse. This was, of course, without thinking through the fact that I had thrown my cellphone and keys in with my purse and barring missing success, would now be locked out of my house and car with no phone. Right. To the right of the window was the OGE or ONG meter, one of the two, and I slowly applied more and more weight to gage if it was going to give. Satisfied it would not, I gave it a good push and hurled myself towards the window. At this point my shoulders and head were inside and the rest still dangling out, essentially stuck in a 2 foot window opening with the meter no longer in reach. I try to shift to the side so that I can get a foot through the opening and into the room. The window was just shy of being wide enough to get it all the way through but on the upside, I was now wedged with only one foot dangling outside. At this point, I realize there will be no graceful ending and am counting down the minutes until someone sees me wedged like poo bear in the rabbit hole. With no other option left, I use the knee to propel me head first into the dining room, letting gravity take care of the rest. So there I lay, on the floor, staring up at the ceiling, streaked with dirt. Let's just say that John has vowed to make a key copy this week.

My baby boy is getting so big...

I stumbled into the pictures from Ben's birth the other day and that is when it really hit me how much he has grown. The time has seemed to fly by faster with him than it did with Joshua. Probably because I have subsisted the last year half asleep. He has currently reached the stage where over dramatic fits begin. He can't communicate what he wants to so it usually comes out with throwing himself on the floor amidst alligator tears. Really not sure where that flare for drama came from... He is so close to walking but not there yet and while his hair is edging towards fro, I just can't bring myself to trim the curls. He gets embarrassed when he laughs and buries his head in your shoulder and claps for himself when you say "good job". His laugh is a deep chuckle and he loves it when I spin him around in circles, going up and down like rides you avoid after chili dogs at the fair. When he is at the height of happiness, he still can't control his hands and feet and their spastic moves hurt if too close to one's face. He discovers something new seemingly everyday. Like his new found ability to climb the stairs. He hasn't been able to for so long, when I rounded the corner and found him half way up, I cheered him on while making plans in my head to install the gate. He was so proud when it made it to the top. He has had a taste of freedom and knows it is but a grasp away. It is amazing to me how your heart really can love two boys in such unique and unending ways.

John Nathan

I have always found that it can be the smallest things that make you feel loved and tonight, as I watched John rub my feet on the couch, just like he had done all the nights before, those small things began to ripple through my mind. He leaves the mail in the mailbox even though he beats me home because he knows that I love to be the first one with my hands on it. Every time we go to Sonic or Shoguns he passes me his cherry. There is more than once, in a pinch, he has let me blow my nose on his t-shirt. Don't ask. He will do plies with me in the living room or play soccer with me in the kitchen. In the car he sings along with me and steals my harmonies because it makes me laugh. He will shop with me for clothes, even though I know he hates it, just to steer me away from shiny green shirts and the off brown pants that you can't find a shirt to match. Really he just comes because he knows I like him there. He knows my regular meal from every fast food restaurant and will drive 20 minutes to Poblano's if I can think of nothing but fajita take out. He pushes me to run even when I give him crap back because he knows I will feel better if I do. When I felt defeated, he took me out and walked behind me, taking off in a run himself when I was about to give up. He fills my car with gas when I have driven back and forth to work with the light on...twice. He lets me pretend I am going to get up at 6 even though he knows he will be getting out of bed to hit the snooze 5 times. He tells me when his friends laugh at my evaluation of the idiot thing they have done just to let me feel funny. When I am down he will start in with "Come sing of belle and beau..." without me having to ask. He always stops to let me sing the verse with "lobsters in the kitchen", even though those aren't the right words. He will watch Enchanted with me and tell me that he believes I will one day have my own "everyone randomly starts singing about what they are doing" moment. He knows that I want my own "everyone randomly starts singing about what they are doing" moment. He remembers that my best friend in sixth grade was named Pooja. He hasn't once been upset when my phobia of breathing carbon dioxide wakes him up in the middle of the night to make him roll over. I can't breathe carbon dioxide. I am not a tree. He loves all those that I love and would give all that he could spare and then more if they needed it. We all want to be loved. To know it and to feel it. As I sit here tonight I do.

Happy Birthday Joshy

Last weekend we celebrated Joshua's 4th birthday on Sunday afternoon. It was 70 and beautiful and followed three days later by snow. Seriously Mom Nature, just pick a season. We started the day with a Silly String war. I bought several cans forgetting just how quickly a four year old can run through their contents. Ross went with the standard, "Look, I am sneezing silly string" but Joshy was only interested in all out war. What is the point of silly string if not being shot at the person least likely to enjoy it? Within 10 minutes the cans were empty and we had resorted to picking up wads off the ground and just chucking them at one another. Papa is always the best sport with Joshy. They ran around the yard and in between the cars, silly string projectiles flying along the way.

For the cake, Joshy was extremely specific. He wanted a Thomas cupcake cake, period. So a Thomas cupcake cake he got. When I first saw it, I immediately bemoaned having to figure out what to do with all the extra cupcakes. Yeah...didn't turn out to be a problem. Normally with cake, if you want more than one piece, you have to be willing to do the walk of shame. Everyone sees you as you hover with your plate, carving out your second helping. The cupcake cake is the loophole. Individually wrapped pieces make for perfect drive by swooping. As the number of cakes kept dwindling, you could only spot offenders by the green-ness of their lips. It's an ingenious thing, that cupcake cake.

Joshy, fully understanding birthday and gifts, tore in, giving it the big excited breath followed by, "What is it?". I posted the video of him opening the snake from Tina. It makes me laugh every time because he isn't quite sure how he feels about that snake.

Jessi gave him Spiderman roller skates that stayed on his feet through the kitchen and out the door. Then it was on to something new. Maybe we will grow into a love of skating later. Mama's not big on shoes that roll either...

When Joshy tore this one open, I said "Joshy, its an Aqua Doodle." His reply. "What's an Apa Noodle?". We played connect the dots until the dots got big and became homes and horses. Connecting the home to the horse does not end well.

Joshy and Papa played with his new soccer goal. It took forever to make it sink in that hands weren't allowed in the game. Why kick it back and forth with your feet when you can pick it up and run?

We decided to get him a sandbox, thinking it would come in useful this summer. He plays in the sand every day at school. I know this by the sand brought home in his socks and shoes and on really active days, his hair and face. Ben played for an hour, just moving the sand and saying "Wow". I am fairly certain the fact that it is one of his two words has more to do with it than the pure amazement factor but it was enjoyable all the same.

It might be a sign you need more chairs when Papa ends up eating pizza on the train...

This year, instead of depositing the money he received into his savings, we let him go to Toys R' Us and have at it. He has never had free reign at a store, no less a store full of toys, so up and down the aisles he ran, discerningly picking this and that. Him loading the cart and me editing on the back end. We ended up with a Spiderman webslinger, a Viking costume and other boats, planes and trains. The Viking costume was for him to play out the character of Joshy the Strong. That is the main character in the bedtime stories John tells him each night. He has fought dragons and bears and had adventures of all types. When congratulating him for killing the dragon, he looked and said "That's because Vikings are strong. But mermaids are stronger". We can thank Backyardigans for that one.

First Swimming Lesson

Tonight was Joshy's first swimming lesson in a group setting sans life jacket and I would be lying to say I wasn't a bit nervous going into it. You never know how kids will react to new situations and there is always that picture in the back of your mind of meltdowns and flailing and forced removal. However, soon after making our way into the pool area, my fears were laid to rest as he couldn't wait to find his teacher and start the class. They had them all sit on the side of the pool, with the goal tonight to pick out the more and less advanced so that the class can be split up into two smaller groups in the upcoming weeks. I am very thankful for this practice as there was this annoying child, jumping up and down, splashing all over, talking about how easy it was to swim. Yeah, mom and dad, it is called Beginner Level II. Try it. The first time they asked Joshy to swim out to see how he could kick and if he could blow bubbles in the water, he went without hesitation and I was so proud. The only fear was with actually going under and thankfully they didn't push it and let him save that victory for another day. Both of the girls teaching the class were very kind and I could tell that one took a liking to Joshy as she spun him around in the pool. I was so thankful for her at that moment. Less when she looked to me with desperation when one of the girls was about to take a dump in the pool and her mother was nowhere to be found. I am all for pitching in with friend's kids, but felt a little (lot) uncomfortable taking a stranger's to the bathroom. I couldn't fathom her mom not staying there to watch. They are incredibly safe, no doubt, but it is a class of 8 kids who can't swim. I was not letting Joshua out of my sight.

After trucking them around on noodles and boogie boards they had them hop out of the pool and line up to jump in. Several of the kids were able to just jump in and go under without trauma as long as they were caught. Joshy gave it a go and knowing his fear, they made sure to catch him before he hit so that he wouldn't go under. He was smiles the entire time and I couldn't be more thrilled.

After the lesson they were all shivering blue 3 and 4 year olds, so the majority migrated over to the hot tub for a quick warm up. I told Joshy that he had to keep a hand on the side at all times as I didn't want him wondering into the middle. This was affirmed when one of the little girls, without her hand on the side, stepped right off the step and under where a fully clothed adult had to retrieve her. Some kids who had apparently been on this pony ride before requested bubbles and before long, the jets shot up and Joshy shot out of the hot tub. Flight reaction - check. Once he slid himself back in, he enjoyed the giant sized bubble bath. Although, I have to say, I have never seen a hot tub quite so...bubbly. It didn't just look like bubbling water. There were suds. Enough that the boys were making santa beards on their faces. Enough to conjure memories of college fountains during rush.

After the class, as I wrapped him up in his towel and sang my baby beluga bath towel adaptation, I was simply incredibly proud of my son. As I type he is snoring next to me, us having acquiesced to him falling asleep in our bed until we came to bed and moved him to his own. The next class is on Thursday and every Tuesday and Thursday thereafter through the end of March. I will let you know how my little swimmer does.