Tuesday, April 30, 2013

I Don’t Get It

I’ve determined that there’s a group of people in the world whom I do not understand AT ALL.  And I think I’m a pretty understanding person!  I give people the benefit of the doubt, I try to see things from their perspective, I preach love and acceptance to my children (someday I’ll rant to you about how “tolerance” is a troublesome word that should not have a place in talks about equality, but that’s a discussion for another day), and I try to extend grace to others because I know how much I need it myself.

 

But there appears to be a percentage of the population that is either obliviously or purposefully annoying, and I don’t understand.  Person who doesn’t use his/her turn signal, I’m talking about you.  Sure, some people might forget to use their turn signals once in a while, but not always.  And I guess I don’t even understand the “once in a while” thing, either (see how I just talked myself out of that bit of grace I was willing to extend to those offenders?  No more!).  You see, driving, in many ways, is a series of memorized actions.  When you reverse, you crank your head and scan all your mirrors.  When you shift, you depress the clutch, let off the gas, change gears, press the gas, and lift off the clutch.  You don’t have to think about it every time you do it.  Same goes for turning.  When you are going to turn, you use your signal.  It’s rote, I tell you!  So WHY do some people not use their turn signals?  It’s ANNOYING to the rest of us!  Not to mention that by not using a turn signal, you are compromising safety by not signaling your intentions to other drivers in advance.  I just don’t get it.  They are either terrible, oblivious drivers or they are annoying others deliberately.

 

Or what about people who walk along the sidewalk in a big group that spreads out and takes up the whole sidewalk so that no one else can get past?  This frustrates every other normal, sane sidewalk user out there!  How do you, group of six people walking along and talking to each other, not notice that the people around you would like some space to walk, too?  And not just the people behind you!  No!  There are usually people walking toward you, people whom you SEE, and for whom you do not move or bunch up to let by until the very last second when it becomes apparent that the oncoming person does not choose to step off of the sidewalk and into traffic to let you continue to monopolize the whole sidewalk!  It’s preposterous that people behave this way, and yet they DO.  I just don’t get it.  Are they rude in nature?  Totally unaware of their surroundings?  Or, as Tony believes, just so sure of their own importance and everyone else’s inferior agendas?

 

Oh!  Here’s another (that is annoying to most everyone I know but that doesn’t so much affect me or have direct consequences to my life): young men who wear their pants waist under their butt cheeks.  And then walk funny to keep those pants from sliding down their legs.  I do not understand this at all and I really don’t think (or I choose not to believe) that it’s a generational thing.  After all, boys did this when I was in high school, too.  It was called “sagging” back then, though I’m not sure there’s even a term for it now.  It would appear that it is just how the majority of teenage boys wear their pants.  Based on my time as a teenager, kids that age are more concerned with looking good than with anything else.  Has no one explained to these young men that they look truly ridiculous with their pants like that?  What’s more, it is the opposite of attractive.  Ladies, even teenage girls, would rather see a guy’s butt encased in a pair of well-fitting jeans than with a saggy pair of diaper-like pants falling off of him (Justin Bieber, I’m talking about YOU).  You don’t see male models or movie stars sagging their pants, do you?  You don’t see them walking like they’ve soiled themselves just to keep their pants from falling off, do you?  Sheesh, get a clue.

 

You might have specific pet peeves – maybe you are annoyed by loud chewing, or the fact that I allow my children to maintain top running speed at all times, everywhere we go – but I think we can agree that some annoyances are nearly universal.  So what in the world is wrong with the people who perpetrate them?

Monday, April 29, 2013

Weekend Reflections

Last night, as the kids drifted off to sleep for the second night in a row of exhausted, early bedtimes, I snuggled into Tony on the couch and a wave of contentment washed over me.  “This,” I thought, “this is what it’s like to love one’s life.”

 

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It’s human nature, I suppose, to constantly want better.  I know I do.  I work hard to improve my life every day.  I do my best to be the best: the best mom, the best wife, the best me.  But in striving to be the best in the future, sometimes I miss the fact that everything is the best right now, too.

 

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That might not make much sense, but it’s the truth: everything is perfect, even if nothing is.  This weekend was full of love, happiness, and accomplishment.  I might want to make more money, buy a bigger house, sleep more, and be able to do a pull-up, but without those things, there is still laughter, there are still household projects, there are still new bikes and bubbles and fresh strawberries.

 

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I ran 6.4 miles on Saturday.  The dog ran 5.3.  Tony ran 4.2, and Charles biked 4.2.  Jamie rode 4.2.  It was the perfect way to start Saturday.  I made flourless chocolate cookies and Shaksouka for dinner (you MUST try it, it was delicious). 

 

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We worked in the garden all weekend and on furniture refinishing and rearranging.  We danced and sang and jumped and tickled and read and drew.

 

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It was just ordinary life, and yet it was wonderful.

Friday, April 26, 2013

Time to Giggle Uncontrollably

The internet is a wonderful thing, isn’t it?  Yesterday was my sister-in-law’s birthday and since she lives in Japan, I didn’t get to take her out for frozen yogurt or mimosas with brunch or a pedicures, but I did send her an email with lots and lots of links that make me laugh.  I have a real gift for her, too, but even though she’s already sent me my birthday gift a month early, she won’t get hers until a month late, when they move back to the US.

 

I think you need a laugh, too, internet friends.  Here are some of my favorite funny things on the internet:

 

The Anti-Joke (for terrible people, which my sister-in-law is not, so I didn’t send this to her)

 

Emergency Compliment (in case you need one)

 

Texts from Dog (My dog is not this intelligent – his texts would all be along the lines of “uuuuhhh, food? walk? squirrel?”)

 

Pinterest, You Are Drunk

 

Animals Talking in All Caps (exactly what it sounds like)

 

Texts From Last Night (these are horrible/awesome)

 

32 of the Greatest Things That Have Ever Happened on Tumblr

 

Jack Sparrow (easily the best music video of all time)

 

Do you know Best of Craigslist?  I find a new funny one each day!

 

Lazer Tits

 

Passive-Aggressive Notes

 

 

Happy Friday, y’all!

Thursday, April 25, 2013

The Acceptance (Celebration?) of Failure

So maybe you’ve noticed that I occasionally write about Baby Boot Camp and our MOLO (MOther LOve – what kind of acronym is that?) challenge.  Basically, I work out, and I work out hard, three times a week.  The MOLO challenge was designed to get us all to work out more, mostly at home, and to make good nutrition choices. 

 

I don’t work out at home, mostly because I don’t have time to work out at home.  I wear heels and skirts, or at least night pants, to work, so doing a one-minute plank every hour on the hour at the office is not going to happen for me.  As it is, I barely get dinner on the table, get the chores done, and have time to love my children every day – by the time they’re in bed, I slump onto the couch for an hour and every evening I hate myself for not getting up and going for a run or doing a workout video.  It’s a sad fact of motherhood that I am my last priority, and when I have time to be the top priority, I’m beaten down from a long day.  In a way, MOLO has made me feel worse about myself because here are these lists of things we should do, watch, or read every week, including workouts and movies and articles that I don’t have time to do, watch, or read.  I have spent three months with weekly emails and daily messages that seem to scream at me, “You will NEVER be strong or beautiful or a good wife or a good mother because YOU WON’T SACRIFICE ENOUGH DO THIS.”

 

When we do our fitness assessments next week to see how far we have progressed during the past three months, I have little doubt that I will have stayed static at every metric, save the one for weight.  I am pretty sure I have gained weight.  I’m trying to come to terms with that.  My abs are rock hard, I have strong shoulders and legs and arms, but there is a softness over all of it that is not going to go away unless I starve myself or cook myself separate meals from my family and give up some of the things I enjoy, like wine and cheese and chocolate.  And frankly, I’m not willing to do any of that.

 

Another part of the MOLO challenge was a goal that we each set three months ago.  Or many goals.  I honestly have no idea what goals other women in the group set, I only know that I had but one goal: to do a full, unassisted chin-up.  For various reasons, I felt it was a reasonable goal three months ago.  After all, I couldn’t set a goal for losing weight or working out more often (I’m at my limit for workout time, and we’ve already discussed the giving up food thing – still not willing), but I thought that, with work, I could do a chin-up.  Just one.  How hard could it be?

 

Well, I have failed to reach this goal.  I will keep trying, but I’m feeling rather defeated about all of it.  And when I feel defeated, I start to feel defeated about other areas of my life, too.  It’s a terrible spiral of self-hatred that starts in one spot and grows to include every single other aspect of my life ever. 

 

So how do I come to accept failure and move on?  Even better, how can I celebrate who I am and what I do and everything that I have accomplished?  The landscaping and furniture refinishing that I did make time for this winter?  The bubble-blowing with my kids in the back yard instead of the 15-minute standing ab workout video?  The books I’ve read instead of working out at 9 pm every night?

 

I guess it comes back to the giant struggle in my life: how can I love myself for who I am and what I do?  And if I don’t know the answer to that, how can I teach my children to love themselves?

Wednesday, April 24, 2013

Ragnar Costume Ideas

I just ordered new running shoes, and I noticed that they’re named “Ariel.”  Which I thought was a bit funny, since I sometimes feel like my feet are so heavy that I’m running through water.  Not because of the shoes, but because I am slow and tired.  Ha ha!  See, that’s funny, because Ariel is a mermaid.

 

Oh, I just suck at jokes.

 

 photoshoes

 

Aside: Speaking of names, I met a dog at the park named Aria and I asked her owner if she was an opera fan.  She looked at me like I was nuts.  “You know, because you named her ‘Aria’ like the vocal feature of an opera?”  Apparently, Aria is the name of a character on some teen-marketed TV show.  The girl I was talking with totally did not understand my opera reference.  What is the world coming to?

 

So, yeah, I’m running and I’m not getting any faster, though I am going farther.  And I run without music, mostly because I’m paranoid that if I run with earbuds, I’ll not hear a car or a train (which is really crazy, since I don’t run on the tracks) or a mad bicyclist and Ill get run over.  So I have lots of time to think, well, 30-45 minutes of time to think, when I run.  I enjoy running with friends, but I also enjoy the time with myself, especially if I’m angry or frustrated.  By mile two, I’m less angry and frustrated because the looping monologues in my head have sort of petered out from “Damn it, he should just know what I want without me having to say it,” to “I hope the kids are driving him batshit for a change.”  I think we can all agree that the latter is much healthier.

 

The bad part of my Little Mermaid connection with my shoes is that for the past few runs, I have spent the entire time singing Little Mermaid songs in my head and replacing the lyrics with really terrible running references (“Look at these shoes/aren’t they neat?/wouldn’t you say my outfit’s complete?”).

 

I’m going to make an effort on my next few runs to obsess over running costumes for the Ragnar Relay that Tony and some of our friends and I are doing in July.  Help me, please!  So far, I’ve thought of ninjas and crayons.  The outfits must be suitable for running in the heat of July, which means no gorilla costumes, no makeup, no outsized headgear.  What would you wear?  What do you think would be awesome for twelve people with pretty adventurous, “aww, fuck it, let’s run a 36-hour, 196-mile relay” personalities to wear?  I mean, we’re not the truly insane runners, but I can guarantee that we’ll have a good time and that all of us would get behind a costume.  Maybe old-school Star Trek?  It would be nice if we didn’t have to spend an exorbitant amount of money. 

 

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Jamie just wants in for the shoes (maybe I’ll start calling them by name, my Ariels.  Or I could call them my Little Mermaids).  I’m hoping that when I do my leg of the run by our house, it won’t be in the middle of the night so my kids can come cheer me on.  Then again, if I’m dressed as a ninja, they might not see me anyway!

Monday, April 22, 2013

On Being A Little Less Granola

I remember a college professor of mine saying “In the seventies, we fought for recycling and we never imagined it would be ubiquitous in thirty short years.”  Well, ubiquitous in Washington State, anyhow.  I’ve been to parts of the country that are not so well-versed in recycling etiquette.

 

I’m of the generation that doesn’t even think about it.  I mean, it could be a really inefficient process to recycle everything I throw in that bin and I wouldn’t know.  You just do.  You just recycle everything that can be recycled, and then the garbage is further split into what can be composted and what can’t.  I go to restaurants that compost or recycle EVERYTHING except plastic spoons (to be heat resistant, they can’t be made of plant materials and are therefore not compostable) and I will think nothing of holding onto a plastic soda bottle until I get home and can dispose of it properly if I’m out somewhere that doesn’t offer a recycle bin.

 

I suppose it’s great, in a way, that there’s a generation of kids who have turned what used to be radical into more of a casual environmentalism.  It’s probably going to be the same way with our children: they’ll eat organic, local foods when they can, they’ll use fewer toxic household chemicals, and they’ll yell at me for doing something so thoughtlessly harmful like, I dunno, painting my nails or eating nacho cheese product.  Except for Tony’s penchant for chemical weed-killers, we’re pretty granola around here, without being fanatical.  Cloth diapers, cloth napkins, no soy, natural laundry detergent… the list goes on.

 

But this weekend, we took a step back in the granola world and got rid of our compost bin.  And I couldn’t be happier.

 

A few weeks ago, Tony went to the hardware store to pick up some bark mulch and came back with bags of compost.  Big, smelly bags for $4 each.  Composted locally.  From the yard waste and pizza boxes we put in our Green Bin every week for the truck to pick up.  And we though, “Why in God’s name are we putting our vegetable peels and apple cores and grass clippings in our own stinky compost bin?”  The thing breeds flies all summer and smells terrible, and we could just be putting all that organic stuff in the Green Bin anyhow and then buy a bag of compost whenever we need it.

 

I guess it just goes to show that casually incorporating good habits, like recycling and composting, into your life doesn’t mean you should do them without thought.  We’ll still compost as much, but we won’t be doing so in our back yard.  And I have a feeling that the summer will smell so much better.  I’ll probably celebrate that with a few back-patio margaritas in the evening sun, glorying in the lack of flies.

Thursday, April 18, 2013

Clearance Sale on Thoughts! Making Room for New Inventory!

Let’s just call these “random thoughts bumping around in my cavernous head with no real point to them and thus, no reason they each need their own post” so I can clear some brain-space today, hmm?

 

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We went out to dinner last night, all the way down to Seattle, to eat at one of my favorite restaurants, Poquitos, and it was fabulous.  I have a new favorite drink that I want to have a pitcher of right now and it’s only 10 am, and I’m kind of having a “friend hangover” in which I am missing the great friends we saw last night (from high school, France, grad school, and cousins!) more acutely now that we’ve spent time together again.  Also, Tony’s cousin bought this car and it is delectable.  Whoa.  I just wrote that it was delectable, then searched out the Car & Driver article, and they call it delectable, too!  I just sat in it, but it was suuuuure nice.  Probably as close as I’ll get to a sports car for the foreseeable future.

 

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I made THE BEST brownies this week.  I used this recipe and they are AMAZING.  Fudgy, chocolaty, everything a brownie should be.  Easy, too, since I did the melting butter and chocolate step in the microwave.  I will never make boxed brownies again ever.  Ever.

 

*****

My parents are in town (they had dinner with us last night, too!  My dad and I sampled grasshoppers!  Yes!  The bug!  I ate one!) along with their dog.  I thought this morning as I was getting dressed that their dog must have rolled in something dead.  I thought, “hmmm, something smells terrible, like dead, oily fish at the beach.”  Of course I blamed the dog.  You would, too, especially if you had a dog (or a sister-dog, since it is my parents’ dog) and knew that it liked to roll in smelly things.

 

When I got to work and I could still smell it, I thought, “maybe I stepped in whatever it is that is rotten and fishy when I put the dogs in the kennel before work.”  Seems logical, right?  But no.  The foul odor (which, apparently, no one else can smell, thank GOD) is coming from me.  More specifically, my jeans, which I accidentally washed with a multivitamin capsule in the pocket a couple of months ago.  The multivitamin clearly had some fish oil in it.  Even though I soaked that pants pocket in OxyClean and detergent and washed them over and over again, obviously the vitamin hasn’t rinsed out yet.  And now I smell like rotten fish oil.  No wonder I feel so damn sexy.

 

*****

I’m overwhelmed by love for my kids lately.  They are just so cute all the time and they have been behaving so well the past few days.  Yesterday afternoon, Tony took the boys to get haircuts with him (well, Jamie didn’t get a haircut; he still has baby-fine hair that looks adorable when it’s a bit shaggy) and I told him to get Charles a buzz cut with a #2 guard.  Charles said, “Yeah, mommy, I’ll get a Buzz cut and daddy can get a Woody cut!”  Kid cracks me up.

 

And then Tony came home with a Woody cut and also paint for our unfinished cedar chest and two scheduled and paid-for massages for ME.  That man.  Sometimes he just gets it right, you know?  Tax season is over and, like childbirth, I have already forgotten the agony.

 

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There are some busy days ahead at work, but we bought tickets to Williamsburg so now we really! are! going! and I can hardly wait and it sort of distracts from all other stresses right now.

 

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Julia had her baby!  I keep waiting for an update, and I’m sure it’s going to be a good story.  But the name, you guys!  They named him Dashiell.  Dash for short!  Oh, I love it so much!

 

*****

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