Falling off the wagon

I've been athletic for a very long time, although you might not think that to look at me. In third grade I started taking ballet lessons and by the time I was in junior high I was taking classes 6 days a week. In high school it became very apparent that I was too tall and too big (and too fond of eating!) to be a ballerina so I started rowing. I rowed, in one fashion or another, through three years of high school, four years of college and five years of graduate school. To say that daily exercise and competition were important parts of my life is something of an understatement.

Then I moved to the desert and rowing was pretty much out of the question. Ironman was big into cycling, so I took that up. And then decided that instead of just doing one new sport badly, why not do three? And so I became a triathlete. And I discovered that it's a lot harder to motivate to get out and train when you are all by yourself. But I had people to ride with and people to swim with. I was never really interested in running with anyone because I am really slow. Really, really slow. And I hate feeling like I'm holding everyone else up. So I ran by myself and slowly and surely improved.

Fast forward a few years to Houston: initially, lots of training, new group of folks to train with, new routes, etc. But then came Devil. And I found out that it's a lot harder to train consistently when you're Mama and when the alarm goes off in the morning and you've been up every two hours feeding a baby all night, a run is just not going to happen very often. Ditto a bike ride or a swim. I did get some training in and I did do a few races, but the commitment wasn't there.

Then came Boo. And if I thought training with one kid was harder, try to do it with two was even worse. While I was on maternity leave it was OK, since I could throw Boo in the stroller and go for a run during the day. But once I went back to work, things kind of went belly up again. I did one sprint tri earlier this summer, but then did not get back on my bike until two weeks ago. That's two and a half months (!) without riding. And I'm pretty sure that I would have continued on that trend were it not for the fact that several rowing buddies from grad school are coming to town to do a race with me in October. The honest truth is if I workout every day I just feel so much better.

Now here's where the tough part comes in: in order to guarantee that I get some exercise, it has to happen first thing in the morning. Like 5 am first thing in the morning. And I'm the kind of person who really really likes their sleep (although 2.5 years of not sleeping past 7:30 EVER has cured me of the ability to sleep in), and if I had my way, I'd sleep at least 8 hours a night. So I have a quandary - do I go to bed early and miss out on the down time we have once the kids are finally in bed or do I hang out with my husband, watch some TV, knit (spin), and only get 6 hours of sleep? This week I've been choosing the latter option - we'll see how long that lasts though. I've got a schedule of workouts written down and hung on the fridge. And I went and dropped $70 yesterday on this instead of more fiber, so I've got a challenge to train for. I've got a running buddy making sure I get out of bed three days a week to go run. The rest I'll have to work in myself. But it's a start. So far this week, I've gotten a workout in everyday, the last fewat 5 am. It's a start.

Boo-tooth equipped*

Right deity last week, wrong patient. Boo did manage to escape the wrath of the tummy bug from hell, but yours truly did not. By mid-afternoon last Tuesday I was starting to feel kind of wonky, and by the time I needed to be on the road to go see the Harlot, driving did not seem like a good idea. Particularly not an hour of driving through Houston's o-so-lovely rush hour traffic. So, crushingly, I stayed home instead of getting to see her. A great disappointment, since I really enjoy

her blog

and I knew it would be a good talk. In fact, I like her blog a lot more then I like her books (of which I own two). So be it. I'll get her the next time she comes to town.

My picking up the tummy bug from hell, plus Devil's somewhat inconsistent (hah!) attendance at daycare last week has made for not-so-much-progress on the knitting front. And even less on the spinning front - part II of the Tour de Wool posts is languishing with 1.5 samples left to finish, so I'm aiming to get that done this week and posted on Friday.

In other news, as the title indicates, Boo's first teeth have finally come in and she is a much happier little girl for it. When I walked into her class to pick her up on Friday, one of the teachers said "Ooooo, the good girl's mommy is here!" Apparently she'd been smiles, lightness and joy all day. Which made me wonder a) what is she like there normally? (gulp) and b) who else's child was the spawn of Satan that day to make her look so good in comparison?

*all credit for this pun has to go to Daddy Ironman, who is quite pleased with himself for coming up with it.

Uh oh!

Here comes Humberto! Think dry thoughts for us down here in Space City, and the rest of the Gulf Coast if you would please...

A fiber Friday with no fiber

In lieu of posting fiber-related items here today (since I have a multitude of projects ongoing and no pictures of anything to share), and since as of yesterday I am now old enough to run for President, I'm going to discuss my favorite present so far:

The cow print Mukka Express stove top cappuccino/latte maker. Some might be tempted to classify me as a bit of a coffee fiend. As far as I can tell, I am nowhere near as bad as some other people I might name (PWB I'm thinking of you), but fine - when you live with a man who refers to the nectar of the gods as "evil bean water" there's only so much you can do. My at-home coffee making has been sorely limited in the last three years due to my conversion to decaf, since I've been either pregnant or nursing for all but three months of the last 36. And it's a bit tougher these days to sit down and enjoy a nice cup of coffee when the instant my butt hits the chair someone starts a) screaming to be picked up, or b) throwing themselves on the floor in a dramatic show of My-life-is-ending-right-now-because-you-won't-let-me-eat-graham-crackers-until-I-puke. Not exactly relaxing.

In any event, thanks to my mothers-in-law (thank you, thank you!), I am now equiped to grind beans, pour in water and milk, and set on the stove for a brief few minutes before enjoying a lovely cup of cappuccino or latte. Bliss!

Now my only complaint is this: what, they didn't have it in

purple and gold cow print

?

We're baaaack

We have finally returned from our excursions across the globe. Ok, only just across the pond, but when you get on a jumbo jet for 8+ hours with two small children, it does feel a bit like taking on an epic journey on the order of an interstellar expedition. Here is the short, photo-less account of events.

The wee ones did terrifically well on the plane rides - on the way over, Boo fell asleep in her lovely bassinet ten minutes after taking off and stayed that way until an hour before we landed. She promptly made up for this remarkable feat by refusing to sleep longer then 2 hrs since, but hey, she's only six months old. There's only so much we can ask for, right? Devil did well too - she didn't get nearly as much sleep, but she was quite happy to entertain herself with stickers and food and such (my apologies to the cleaning crew in London who had to unpeel seventy-gazillion stickers from her environs). We were picked up at the airport by our soon-to-be-married friend and went off our first staging area, the very lovely town (village?) of Esher.

We spent three days in Esher going to the wedding and reception (very very nice), and various other wedding-related events, as well as checking out the local playground. We then picked up a car (gasp!) and drove out to Somerset to stay with our friend's new inlaws, who, despite never having laid eyes on us before, were extremely gracious about offering us a place to stay for the week. Plus they ended up being perfectly lovely people, and we had a lovely time with them. Typical tourists, we romped around the southwest, looking for fossils, riding steam trains, climbing beacons, all the while marveling at the lovely, extremely "un-English" weather (meaning it didn't rain once while we were there and was mostly sunny and beautiful, if a bit cool for our now delicate southern blood).

The worst part about the whole trip, aside from that pesky driving-on-the-wrong-side-of the road thing (and the fact that our street at home is the equivalent of a two lane road in the UK), was having to come home. I always find the trip back rougher then the trip over - besides being an hour or more longer on the plane, you don't have the excitement of the vacation to look forward to. But we made it home in one piece, and I managed not to fall asleep until past 7 pm, which is pretty good given how little sleep I was getting during the trip. When we've got the pictures uploaded, I'll post more details.