The Christmas Gauntlet

My brother-in-law coined the title to this post to describe the four day traveling extravaganza that was our holiday.

Friday, we drove across the city to see the relative who suggested that I get a sitter and come without the girls. Since a sitter was out of the question, I left Doug at work and took the girls over there three hours early so that Dagny could nap. It worked out fine because I helped with the party preparations and got the girls home at only one hour past their bedtime. If Annika hadn't woken back up, we would have been golden. Saturday, I gave Doug a pass and took the girls to my Grammy's house in Griffin for lunch. Dinner was to be at 6pm and that would NOT work with Dagny's nap (3-5pm) so I thought lunch would be better. When I arrived at the house, they told me that "dinner" was at 4pm so if I had known the actual time, I could have stayed home in the morning, brought Doug and actually done the official party. Whatever. Grammy is hard of hearing, so it was better to be there before the crowd anyway. Sunday was cold, but I got to run and go to Mass before 8:30am. We shopped in the morning and then Doug took Annika to church with his family in the afternoon. Everyone returned to our house after church for food and excitement. It was very pleasant and easy. Monday was beautiful. Santa got up early and repaired the seam of Dagny's rocking lamb while Doug made a lovely breakfast. We had to wake Annika at 7:40 because Dagny was screeching for her. The girls had a marvelous time and we played outside in the freezing rain until lunch. My family came for the ultra-controversial Christmas dinner. They may actually be speaking to me again now (despite the fact that it was not I who demanded any change in plans), but maybe not. Regardless, we made beef, asparagus, risotto and lobster tails for dinner. Except that my risotto was done well in advance of everything else, the food was good and I think everyone had a good time.

Yesterday was to be my running day. We did some size-correction shopping in the morning and I was going to run in the afternoon. Then came the rain. I put Dagny down for her nap and noticed that the drops were covering the driveway. Sorely tempted to stay inside, I came down to check the weather on the computer. Sigh - no sign of stopping and no indication of any rain on the radar. However, Natalie had sent me an email about my race, which spurred me back into action. I donned the foul-weather gear and sallied forth into the mist . . . hoping to get to 8 miles. I ran the first two miles in the 39 degree rain. After that the rain stopped and I even saw another runner. I got to seven miles without pain, but then my hurt knee began to ache. Knowing that further running would make me lame, I stopped at 7 and counted myself lucky. This will be my last long run before the big race. I may not make good time or even get to run the whole way, but I think I can finish. Thank you Nat, for getting me out of the house. It was the best run I've had in a long time.

Oops

I finally made the Outrageous Peanut Butter Cookies that Anna wrote about last week. One of the cookies broke as I was transferring them from the cookie sheet to the cooling rack, so I had to taste-test. "Hm," I thought, "tasty, but a little buttery." I wondered if the peanut butter added extra fat so that it overwhelmed the flour. Maybe I needed more flour. I consulted the recipe for further muddling. All of a sudden I noticed that it called for 1/2 cup of butter. For those of you who are not baking fools this week, that means one stick of butter. I used two. Oops.

They are still good, just a bit pecan-sandieish in texture. Good thing I have extra chocolate chip cookies from the garbage guys' batch, which (by the way) start with two sticks of butter.

It would be silly if I hadn't done this to the sugar cookies just last week.

In other news, I ran six miles yesterday. It's a new world record. Not really, but it is the farthest I've gone since August. No knee pain at all, except for where I strapped my knee brace too tightly and hurt the back of my knee, which I didn't notice until I removed the brace upon finishing. I did learn that the whole wheat pancakes and grapefruit were not bad pre-run food, but maybe less of them would prevent them from threatening to reappear. The run certainly helped my endorphin shortage. I was beginning to feel a lot like the grinch with my soul being "an appalling dungheap. . . ."

Heck

I love grapefruit. Annika and Dagny love grapefruit. For lunch, I cut the grapefruit into smiles (wedges, for those of you without toddlers) and we eat them all up. When Annika eats her smiles, or anything else, for that matter, I exclaim and praise her.

So, when she ate her grapefruit smiles recently, I said "wow, Annika, you are eating the heck out of that grapefruit." Yes, I said heck. I probably should have phrased this differently despite the obvious lack of bad words.

"Why?" you say. Because now Annika thinks that the inside of the grapefruit is called the "heck." "Mom, I ate all of the heck out of this grapefruit." "Dagny left some of the heck in her grapefruit." Either that or Annika is using Larry the Cable Guy as her speech role model.

The Ugliest Cupcakes and other disasters

Doug's birthday was last week. We went out for dinner to a fancy-schmantzy place inside the perimeter (I had a gift certificate). Since we left the girls with my mom, Annika and I made cupcakes the next day to celebrate the birthday with the family.

Because a cake mix makes a million cupcakes and I'm not a terrible baker, Annika and I decided to make the cupcakes from scratch, using the Small Batch Baking cookbook. We made the fudgy chocolate cupcakes with peanut butter icing. As the cupcakes finished baking, I tested them with a toothpick to be sure they were done. No problem until the cupcake deflated as I removed the pan from the oven. That has never happened to me before, so I crossed my fingers and hoped that I could just take the ugly one. Nope. Soon enough, all four cupcakes deflated, leaving a crunchy burned rim around the top of the pan and sunken centers (like the craters of volcanos). Crossing my fingers, I whipped up the peanut butter frosting. It tasted lovely, but my spatula broke off in it. Sigh. I frosted as best I could and you can see the results. Annika had one cupcake and enjoyed it, but the others were a loss. Doug didn't even taste them. I spent two days beating myself up about not being exact enough to bake in small batches before tasting (in a fit of hormone weakness) the monstrosities and realizing that they were AWESOME. Doug missed out.

A week prior to this event, we went to a bring-the-kids party at which I was to bring dessert. After contemplating the chocolate flan cake and nixing it as too "flan-ish," I consulted with Tara (who suggested some lovely desserts) and Anna (who suggested a red velvet cheesecake and a three-layer cheesecake). Since it was a party, I went with the festive cheesecake. It wasn't a difficult recipe and turned out very nicely with delicious topping, but no one at the party touched it. No one, until I begged for opinions (and then only two of us tried it). Let that be a lesson - at a party where people are chasing kids, finger food is better. Then, we dropped the remainder of the cake on the neighbor's driveway on the way home. Oops. Hope that it didn't stain.

This past Sunday, I went to a work party. Mindful of the untouchable cheesecake, I planned my dessert selection around what the other dessert-bringer was doing (Buche de Noel from Gabriel's). Thinking that something simple would make a good foil for the cake, I baked banana bread with peanut butter chips and walnuts and pumpkin bread and paired them with chocolate chip cookies and some leftover oatmeal cookies. No dice. My desserts tasted and looked pretty marvelous (if you ask me), but no takers. Everyone ate the cake (except for Steph, who doesn't like cake) and left the breads and cookies.

I was only able to run 2 miles yesterday (sore knee) and today's cold/low-grade fever are making my appointment with the Billy Blanks CD unlikely. So, I've wasted two 18 packs of eggs and a lot of effort in the last two weeks for nothing except to expand my own waistline. I love the holidays.

A Nice Thing

I'm full of good stories to post, but a bit short on time these days. So, instead of the photos of the cupcakes we made for Doug's birthday or the numerous attempts at Christmas card photos, I'll tell you a nice thing that happened to me today.

I took Annika to "church school" this morning and went to Mass. Doug had Dagny and they went shopping. Dagny is sick and has bumps on her head and nose from our outing yesterday so it was better for them to be alone together. Anyway, during Catholic Mass, when you say the "Our Father," everyone holds hands. It's a relatively new thing and a bit hippy-dippy, but a good community-builder. So, I extended my hand to the woman next to me and into the aisle (because I was on the end) and was denied. The woman at my side had her hands folded in prayer and was not going to share my cooties. No matter, I get the germ idea so I wasn't angry. It is good form to extend your hand across the aisle but it's unlikely to be taken, so I resigned myself to empty-handed "Our Father"ing. Whatever - no big deal.

Then, a woman that I know from our neighborhood reached across the aisle from one row back and grabbed my hand. I know it's sappy, but it really made my day. Hopefully she didn't notice that it made me cry. Maybe I'm spread a little too thin these days or maybe it was because I was up three times last night with Dagny or maybe I'm still not feeling that I'm actually a part of the congregation yet, but that little gesture meant a lot to me. Thank you, lady - I hope that I can hold out my hand to you when you are having a bad day.

A Different Life

Natalie mentioned in her blog today that she wishes that she had run in high school as her gymnastics coach had encouraged.

While I ran on Sunday, I was thinking about the same thing - how would my life have been different if I had run track my freshman year as I had wanted to. Unfortunately, that year I was grounded from the world from January until spring because of the sneaking-out incident. So, I was barred from track that year and just never bothered again. Would I have stuck with it if I had joined the team? Could I have kicked ass at the hurdles (the way I did in my mind's eye)? Would the stronger/thinner/faster/smarter/taller endorphin high have helped me actually buckle down and learn something in high school instead of worrying mainly about boys? Would I have appreciated the nice boys who liked me instead of pursuing the "bad" ones? I don't know. If the running and discipline did not create a character change, it is likely that I would have just given it up. I was pretty darn shallow then and had no perspective. I like to think that I was a larva (or a pod person) - lacking in actual human qualities.

So, in light of the spitting incidents and nastiness at school, I am wondering how we can instill empathy, consideration and perspective in the girls so that they aren't like larva. So far, we are still working with the "we control you" system that I mentioned last week, with a little "Santa is watching you" thrown in for good measure. I don't know where to begin to bridge the transition from "we control you" to "you are a good human who can make choices." Doug insists that team sports are a good first step. So, even if Annika and Dagny are REALLY DARN BAD, they will still do the sports. We will just have to think of some other thing to deny them or make them do for punishment.

By the way, my sister mentioned to me that a call from Santa might not be a bad idea for the unruly kid - a "I hear that you might not be acting like a good girl all of the time - better shape up" call. We haven't resorted to that, but it is definitely an option.

If I Didn't Know Better

One Christmas (8th grade), I received a giant hershey kiss from a female relative - with a card that said "your first?"

Then, last week at Thanksgiving dinner, after I explained why I put Uncrustables sandwiches in Annika's lunch box (so she will eat something, anything, at lunch), the same relative said "you lose your mommy card for that!"

Then, today I got an email from the same woman which said you are invited to XX event at XX location on XX date, "around 6 or whenever it is good for babies. Or, if too hard, how about a sitter?"

So, I know that I was hypersensitive in middle school, that being my fat period, the time of hormones and the fact that I had indeed never kissed anyone. Bless her heart, she meant it as a joke. You can even hear the "hee-hee" after the quotation marks. Heck, the card probably even SAID "hee-hee." You'd think that with teenagers of her own and having been a pubescent girl at one point, she might have been sensitive to these issues, but no.

The Thanksgiving thing was also a joke - "oh ho - you lose your mommy card for THAT! ha ha ha!" She has no way of knowing about the First Meals book or the time I spent making baby food and ensuring that no sugar or other junk entered Annika's body. Or the fact that Doug and I now silently and covertly rejoice together if Annika puts a single bite of anything in her mouth.

And the latest, though not a joke, is an attempt to be accomodating after ignoring my sister's polite request for a child-friendly time. She is probably just trying to make sure that the time works for the folks who work in offices - with no idea that it's usually the kids that are the bigger lure, not the dinner.

Anyway, the nutshell is - please, please promise that you will all ridicule me when I start to say stuff like this. Or at least pull me aside for a private discussion on thinking before speaking.

A New World Order

Here is some comic (maybe) relief:

Doug and I have a new company line: "good girls get good stuff and bad girls get bad stuff." A little harsh, perhaps, but we had some distressing news from the school this week. Apparently, Annika spit at some of the other students and told one girl that she was not her friend and that she hated her. This is in addition to the numerous temper-tantrums, screaming and general acting-out that we've had going on around here. I had attributed the bad behavior to Dagny's new-found mobility and cuteness. It could also just be fatigue because Annika is trying to give up her afternoon naps.

Anyway, the new plan is for Annika to go to bed earlier (8/8:15pm) and receive immediate punishments for deviations from appropriate conduct. No warnings, no counting, no repeating directions - it's actually a lot easier for me. More difficult, however, is rewarding the good conduct because it's hard to find good conduct to reward.

We kicked off the new world order with a dinner at Hachi-Hachi (not its real name) last night because Annika said that she was nice to all of the other kids at school yesterday. It was very big fun and they even had a cool Japanese soft drink with a marble in it. Good girls get good stuff. This morning, however, Annika disappeared while Dagny was finishing her breakfast and I was cleaning the kitchen. She lost track of time while playing with her toys and peed in her clothes before she made it to the potty. Therefore, she had to skip dance class, was not allowed to wear a leotard and we did errands instead. Bad girls get bad stuff. Annika changed her clothes like I asked, and followed directions until we got to the library so she got to pick out some books. Good girls get good stuff. (That one was a stretch, but I needed something good to even out the bad).

If lunch goes well, we will roll out the replacement sugar cookies and bake them. If not, punishment city.

In other news, I ran 5 miles on Sunday and again yesterday. Whoo hoo! I've realized that I won't be able to make my goal time in the half-marathon, but I think I'll be able to run the whole thing. Unfortunately, in mile 3 yesterday I allowed my frustration with something at work get the best of me and ran entirely too fast (which isn't really fast, but apparently any increase in speed puts extra stress on my knee) and now the knee is sore. No running today or tomorrow. Maybe on Friday.

You Take the Good, You Take the Bad

This fall, Doug promised Annika that I would help her make pumpkin pie. Real pumpkin pie. Out of actual pumpkins.

I've never done such a thing. All of my mother's pies started with a nice can of pumpkin. So, I googled and came up with this recipe. It was a little vague on the pumpkin-cooking instructions and seemed to recommend steaming. We bought some pie pumpkins, which sat on my table for several weeks before I mustered the courage to cook them. Since butternut and acorn squash look like pumpkins, I decided to roast/bake the pumpkins as if they were one of those squashes. Just so you know, pumpkin doesn't take nearly as long to roast as butternut or acorn squash. After thirty minutes, I peeked in the oven and my pumpkins halves were collapsed (and therefore, done). Also, the recipe said that one pumpkin would yield about 3 cups of puree, which would be enough to make one pie. I cooked two pumpkins and yielded 3 cups of puree, but it made enough batter for two pies.

Anyway, once I had pureed the pumpkin, I showed it to Annika. "Ick," she said. "That stinks." On that auspicious beginning, we finished making the pies and baked them. Doug picked up whipping cream in a can at Trader Joes and we served Annika her pie with the magical topping - green sprinkles. Delightful. Seriously, those were some really good pies.

Today, on the other hand, I tried to make sugar cookies. It was a very easy recipe, out of the Southern Living Cookies cookbook. The dough tasted funny, like I didn't have enough vanilla or sugar but I put it in the fridge as instructed anyway, hoping that the cool would improve the taste. Usually sugar cookie dough is pretty tasty. Later, when I began to make the oatmeal raisin cookies I promised to bring to Thanksgiving dinner, I couldn't find the butter I set out to soften. It was nowhere. Finally, I looked in the trash can. Four butter wrappers were in there. Were they the two from the sugar cookies and two from the muffins I baked for Annika's class snack yesterday or had I put four in the sugar cookies? I just tasted the dough - definitely too buttery. I'll let you know if we bother to salvage the dough.

The moral - don't cook while on the phone and feeding the kids at the same time.

Not the Same

We watch the Tom and Jerry show a lot. It is on Boomerang. Annika loves Tom and Jerry.

However, the OK violence on Tom and Jerry does not seem to translate into acceptability for other genres of mayhem. Not when you are 3 1/2.

We had the great idea (NOT) of watching "Home Alone" last night. Not only did it take forever for the madcap escapades to begin, when Macauley Caulkin's character finally started giving the Wet Bandits the business, Annika began to cry. Screaming and crying.

Let that be a lesson to you. It will be a while before we watch "A Christmas Story."

Killing Me Softly

Why, oh why, do I ever second guess my gut instincts?

In an ongoing matter in which we are trying to get governmental approval, I sent the third requested addition to our file to them WITHOUT using certified mail, return receipt requested. The agency responsible for this approval does not allow the use of UPS or FedEx so I had been sending everything by certified mail from the Post Office. It costs $5 a pop, but it gives me proof that they got what I sent.

Except this last thing. I was in a hurry because that day was one of my office days and I thought that it was more important to get it sent than to wait another day. How wrong I was.

I got the letter today which says that they still haven't received what I sent and also requests another new item. Sigh. I knew that I should have sent it certified and that I also should have picked up some certified mail forms while I was at the post office on Tuesday. I talked myself out of it with the idea that I wouldn't be needing them anytime soon. Anyone who has ever tried to corral a kid while trying to fill out those darn forms understands how much those would have helped me.

Oh, and - my kids are sick. Dagny has an unidentified virus that the doctor charged me $40 to say was a cold and Annika has an ear infection that caused her to barf in my car on Wednesday.

Boobs

So, I frequently check out the scary photos on this site and it makes me wonder - if celebrities make their livings by looking good, have stylists to help them look good, and spend seemingly unlimited time and funds to spend in the pursuit of looking good, then why do their plastic surgeries look so bad?

Is it that they are not giving enough thought or investigation to their surgeon or the viability of the planned procedures? Or is it that plastic surgery just doesn't work very well?

I don't know.

I do know that there was a whole thread on a running board that I frequent in which one lady was asking for advice on how long recovery would take and if breast implants would impede her running. You'd be surprised how many women and how few men were in favor of the implants. Personally, I thought that boobs were a hindrance when I had them (during breastfeeding) so I don't see what the big deal is. Foundation garments have come a long way - there are even some with implants sewn inside. Everyone is different, though. The boob lady probably thinks I am a weirdo because I'm still running from the fat self.

Speaking of which: I ran 4 miles on Sunday. In a row! It's a new world record. I'm still following Doug's advice and aiming for 10 minute miles, which seems to be helping the knee. I have faster miles in me, but they will have to wait. Doug kept the girls so that I could run around the path at the elementary school in the afternoon. It was a beautiful day and I had a marvelous time despite the first mile that was 9 minutes (oops) and forgetting my headphones. I listened to the gravel and leaves crunching under my feet and practiced my work presentation while I ran. Multitasking is good.

Good Luck Nat!

As I jumped over to The Negative Split to check on Nat, I was sad to see no new post. However, I remembered that this is her marathon weekend. Good Luck Nat - you are going to kick ass at the OBX Marathon!

When I grow up, I want to be like Nat - smart, svelte, stylish, grounded and really really fast. : )

Booty-licious

I was going to include this in the "in other news" section of the previous post, but decided it was too long.

Dagny and I went for a run today at the park during Annika's dance class. We had just enough time to do the 5K loop. My knees troubled me at several points during the run so I had to walk more than three times. I attribute this to one of several things: (1) it was cold, (2) I forgot my knee brace, (3) I ran yesterday, (4) no warm-up, (5) my first time on hills since the doctor visit, or (6) running too fast. Or, maybe my knee just isn't better - but I really really don't like that option so I can't put it on the list of possibilities.

Just about everyone that I've ever seen at the park is nice. I used to run there while Annika was in school before I had Dagny. The other walkers/runners wave, laugh, slap hands and generally enjoy themselves. This is a good place to run - very uplifting.

Today I scared the crap out of a couple who were walking their dogs because I yelled "wheeeee!" as we turned the corner to go up the big hill past the lake. These walkers were not expecting sound effects during their route, so I apologized as we passed them on the way up the hill. They didn't mind since I had the cute Dagny bundled into the stroller. I got about 1-1.5 miles before the knee started complaining. Knowing that if I ignore the complaining I will come up lame and have to limp rather than speed-walk, I dropped down to the walk at several times during the rest of the run. I was either walking really fast or my running was very fast because I finished the 5K in about 32 minutes which was the pace I was aiming for. Doug has thoughtfully set the virtual training assistant on my Garmin to pace me for 10 minute miles. He also reminds me to go slow before I go out the door.

Anyway, as we were on the home stretch, coming up the sidewalk hill past the elementary school, I had to walk AGAIN. I probably let out a groan as I shifted into walking gear. It really hurts my feelings to have to walk. As I motored up the hill, a young man who was run/walking with his wife and baby came trotting down the hill. As they ran past me (going the other way), he said "this hill is called butt-cheek-hill." I chirped "it sure is," with a smile and continued on my way. Inside, however, I was cursing and screaming about how I could kick that hill's behind if it weren't for my stupid knee. Stupid knee.

Etc, Etc

Here is a photo of Annika and Dagny on our way to the neighborhood playgroup Halloween party. Note the difficulty we are having in keeping Dagny still. Annika is Belle (from "Beauty and the Beast," in case you are not Disney-rrific) and Dagny is a puppy. She adores this costume and carries it around like a stuffed animal, giving it kisses. We had to cut Annika's dress off after the party because we discovered during the many games of chase that it tripped her up - even with her running shoes on.

As you can see, the other photos are from Rome. I am standing on the step at the church at the top of the Spanish Steps. We bought the giant bottles of water before we realized that you can drink (and everyone does drink) the water out of the fountains located all over town. The only explanation we heard, and we heard it several times, was "it is good - it comes from the mountains." It was good, and cold too.

I chose this photo because I thought I looked good (which is saying a lot because I'm not so photogenic), except I've just noticed that my legs blend into the pillars supporting the railing on either side of me. It just goes to show you that I'm still haunted by my fat self that I feel the need to explain that my ass is not as large as all that.

The last photo is of the pope at the Wednesday Papal Audience in St Peter's square. We are standing on rickety plastic chairs with our backs to the basilica so you can see the beautiful fountain in the center and some of the columns from the "arms" leading up to it. Pope Benedict is doing laps of the square in the pope-mobile (minus the plexiglass). As you might imagine, everyone was pretty excited to see him and there was a lot of jockeying for position as we tried to track his progress on the giant video screens that flanked the steps of the basilica.

Plans, Interrupted

I had planned to run in a race this morning. Virginia and I agreed that we would run in the William's Run in Alpharetta today to try for Peachtree Road Race qualifying times. Unfortunately, my knee had other ideas.

Plan B: I was going to run in the 5K race and cheer Virginia on in the 10K. My mom was going to take care of the girls and maybe even watch the race. But, alas, my sitter for the evening's dinner club got invited to homecoming and had to bail on me.

Plan C: Mom was going to keep the girls for the dinner party, but didn't want them for the whole day. Fine, we emailed the race organizers to see if they needed some volunteers. If we couldn't run, at least we could be supportive. They didn't need volunteers so we were free to spectate. Talked several friends into running also so we had plenty to cheer for. Annika had a fever all day yesterday and it was cold as balls this morning. When I went to wake her she asked if she could please sleep longer. No race for us.

Camille ran her first 5K and came in second in her age group. Natalie won her age group. I'm certain that Virginia got her qualifying time. We baked pumpkins and made pumpkin pie. Annika has eaten nothing all day. I exploded condensed milk into my hair so I have to shower again before taking Annika to her friend's birthday party. That exploding milk (due entirely to my own stupidity in forcing the can open when it clearly didn't want to open) necessitated mopping the floor also, so a shower would really be a good thing.

The good news is that I have two very nice smelling pumpkin pies on my counter and there is still time for a shower after wrapping the birthday present. And, I ran 3 miles this morning without having to walk. That's 9 miles this week, which is nothing compared to my marathon-training friends but is a huge improvement over the crappy run/walking I've been doing. No wildlife this week except for some bunnies and the crazy newspaper guy who tried to run me over this morning.

I Learned Shut Up

The way a child acquires language is a mystery to me. I always thought that the spoken words would be only a little behind the receptive words but apparently I am wrong. Dagny can say about three words: "uh-oh", "Deddy" (teddy or Daddy, depending), "Ah-ya" (Annika). She also appears to understand the word "no" though she doesn't obey it.

As I was dressing Annika for bed last night and putting on her lotion, Dagny was getting in the way (and the lotion) and was holding one of Annika's shoes. So, I asked her "could you please put Annika's shoes in the closet". She moved in that direction, so I repeated myself - more than three times because it was keeping her out of the lotion. But she did it. She put the shoes in the closet. We clapped and praised her and exchanged high-fives. The child is one - I had no idea she actually understood what I was saying when I said "yes, that is your shoe" "shoes go on your feet" "Annika's shoe" or some other inanity during diaper changing, dressing or preparations to leave the house.

Which makes it all the worse that I told her to shut up yesterday morning. She was screaming, as she is wont to do in the post-dressing, pre-breakfast moments and I was trying to get Annika's breakfast together because she was starving (see previous post about not eating any dinner). At the same time, I was trying to get her bottle made and I lost my marbles, just a little bit. I promised myself I wouldn't be like this - this screaming freak-out mother. I'd like to blame it on the working or on the messy kitchen or on the too much to worry about, but really it's just that I'm not doing such a good job sometimes. This morning was much better, by the way, no screaming from anyone.

But that doesn't negate the fact that I told my sweet child to shut up. And Annika saw it. I confessed to Doug as I was relating the shoes in the closet tale and his eyes grew large with horror (and this is a man who says "fuck" in front of the kids). Better to say fuck in front of them than to say the bad stuff TO THEM.

Just so you know I'm not a big plagarist, I'm continuing the song lyric/title/play on either of these as the title of each of my posts. I Learned Shut Up is the title of a 5*8 album. They are the first band I ever saw in college, at the Downstairs, opening up for Roosevelt and they are the least appreciated really great band I've ever heard. They are still in heavy rotation on our i-pods.

Orchids Eat Proscuitto

My sister calls Annika "the orchid" because she seems to exist on air alone. The child doesn't eat. We beg, we plead, we cajole - nothing. I threw out the entire lunch (hummus, cheese and apple slices) that I packed for her yesterday, she ate none of dinner (delicious pork chops from Rachael Ray cookbook and brussel sprouts) last night and she admitted to eating one bite of the granola bar and yogurt that I sent for lunch today.

However, Doug is making pizza a la Romana for dinner tonight. He went to Trader Joe's (which has recently opened near us) and bought some lovely proscuitto and mozzarella. He was slicing it up in preparation for dinner and brought some down for us to taste. I was doing some work in the basement and Annika was watching Sesame Street. Anyway, she brought me a bite (as instructed by her dad) and proceeded to eat THE WHOLE PLATE of meat and cheese. Then, she joined Doug upstairs for more. Who knew the proscuitto would be so popular?

Dagny ate the heck out of the pork chop AND brussel sprouts. She will eat anything and whenever she puts anything in her mouth, she says "umm". Clearly this child takes after me.

In other news, back on the running train after a week off. I ran 2 miles in front of our house (painfully boring) and walked another one because my knee was giving me twinges. The stupid exercises that I'm doing to strengthen my muscles and limber my IT band came in very handy in Italy, though, because most of the potties were the "sit without touching" variety and I was able to hover with ease.

Return

We are back.

Doug and I went to Rome last week to celebrate our 10th wedding anniversary. Dagny stayed with my folks, Annika stayed with Doug's folks and our friend Christa took care of Annie. All on the homefront was uneventful except that Annie peed on her bed twice and ran out of food. She didn't ACTUALLY run out of food because I had food - it's just that no one knew where it was and I forgot to tell them. Luckily Aunt Katie bought some from the vet and brought it to Christa.

We had a fabulous time on the vacation. We walked miles and miles every day, stopped at everything that looked neat, drank too much wine, ate lots of delicious food and generally enjoyed ourselves. We even got to see the pope. I don't know if I would recommend the pope visit, especially for a non-Catholic, because it took the whole morning (and we arrived only 30 minutes early and left after the homily - it was not a Mass) but it was certainly interesting. Nuns jockeying for position and grammies standing on folding chairs - like a rock concert. We lost one of our credit cards, but the bank quickly cancelled it so it was not a big deal. We walked an additional 3-4 miles that night going back to get it at the restaurant (where we had apparently not left it) but that was OK because it enabled us to process that second bottle of wine better so as not to be hung over the next day.

I can't put the photos up because the cord that connects the camera to the computer is missing but Rome was lovely. It is just amazing that you can see so much history in one place. A good trip. Doug was (as usual) the master trip-planner. He arranged the travel, the hotel, the food, made reservations for stuff. I got to be the sidekick. It was lovely. : )

Cool Stuff

So, I've not been able to run much. In fact, I'm reduced to running laps back and forth in front of my house where the road is flat. I don't know how far it is, but less than 1/3 of a mile. Thank goodness for the i-pod or I would be bored stiff. Here is the cool stuff:

1. I've learned that all of my neighbors get up at 5:45/5:50am. The first school bus comes at 7, so that makes sense, but it was really interesting to see the lights come on one by one within minutes of each other.

2. When I run in Doug's time slot, I see NO CARS and at least 4 other runners. How cool is that?

3. Last week, I saw a coyote. There have been rumors about coyotes in our area and we've heard them howling, but while I was walking on my warm-up, one trotted right across the road. They are not as big as you'd think and definitely not interested in me.

4. I also saw a giant white rabbit one morning. He also had some brownish/blackish patches and ran across the road in front of me. Doug thinks he is an escaped pet because our neighbors saw him the following evening.

5. Unrelated to running, we saw a horned owl this week. He was in a tree by the lake and had caught something for dinner. Unfortunately, we scared him away but he was really neat.

6. Also unrelated, Annika LOVES to fish. The fish in our creek like proscuitto, not bread, and some are pretty big. We throw them back in - just so you know.

7. I can do 3 miles of the "flats" without a lot of pain. I have the soreness, but not enough to stop running - which is a HUGE relief. Those leg exercises that the doctor gave me suck.

In other news, Dagny turned one, started walking and can say "Dada" (meaning Daddy or dog) and "Ah-na" (meaning Annika). She is very demanding and wants to know where Annika is at all times. Annika is not thrilled with this development - she is more pleased when we can play outside while Dagny naps. There is a possibility that I might start to work more hours in the new year. It's still just a discussion, but we shall see. . .