Not Me Monday

Inspired by Brandie ( http://www.rudyfamilyrukus.com/2010/03/not-me-monday_29.html ) I'm joining in "Not Me Monday" -

I did NOT send my son to school in his pajamas because he forgot to take his clothes with him to grandmas to get dressed this morning. Not me. I would never be that cruel to my son.

And I most certainly did not spend the entire drive to grandmas this morning chewing out my children for not cleaning the car out yesterday like I had asked them to do.

And further, I would never, ever transition from being angry at them for not cleaning said car to using a guilt trip on them by saying "it really just makes me sad that, after the great weekend we just had, you couldn't do one little thing for me that asked." I would NEVER use that line of reasoning with my kids.

Finally, I'm not at all bitter that I have to go to work today when it's such a loverly, lovely day outside.

My Trek to the 5K

I'm going to run a 5K this year, damnit! I've been going to the gym about 5 times a week for the last 6 weeks and running, on average, about 2.5 miles. Now, I say running, but what I really mean is moving my arms and legs comparatively fast while on an elliptical. I've been told that this is very, very different from street running so I decided to concede and start today training by street running.

My 5K debut is going to May 15, 2010. Keeping that in mind, I have just under two months to train for this 5K. I have, since January 1, 2010 dropped a total of 34 pounds and lowered my BMI by 5.1 points. WOOT! Give it up for me. But, I still have a long way to go to be my goal weight. However, I believe, this is only 5K and even I, who is medically defined as obese can do a 5K, right?

So, I mapped out my round trip course around my neighborhood, changed into my gym clothes plus a jumper to keep me warm (Jumper = sweatshirt for those who don't speak British)and headed off.

Holy FUCK! I'm a terrible runner! Why did I not realize that I'm such a shitty runner? Ahh...I DID realize this. Thus the reason I've never really been a runner before. As soon as I set off I realized my body was all tense "relax" I kept telling myself over and over. "Don't over do it. This is just your first time running since, um the 10th grade - 1990 - 20 years ago - and you were a shitty runner back then too, remember?" "Keep breathing. Relax your stride." etc. I think all the calming talk stressed me out even more. Add to that the fact that I have terrible balance - I can fall over just by walking - in flat shoes - across flat land - with no cracks or bumps - and you can imagine how incredible I looked.

I ran about .2 miles before needing a break. Stellar, I know. And then I continued to alternate walking and running. This is good, I know. During one of my walking stretches a very attractive and VERY fit man goes jogging past me, kitted out in his top of the line running gear - compared to my oversized shorts (due to the weightloss) oversized jumper (due to my not being able to find another clean one today) and over-old running shoes (due to the fact that I'm about as broke as can be right now and can't afford new shoes). He looks over at me, gives me the thumbs up and says "great job!" HA What a nice guy.

Well, needless to say, I didn't run the full 3.1 miles today. I did, probably just under half. My body hurts worse than 2.5 - 3 miles on the elliptical and so do my lungs. Those silly machines are made to deceive us into believe we're making good progress...just like in the 80's and 90's when clothes makers started making womens clothes bigger with the same sizes on them...it's all deception I tell you.

But, here's the thing. I'm going to do this! I know that I can do it! I may be slow and it may be painful, but it's going to happen. I'm going to give myself the opportunity to build up to what I want to do and not let it overwhelm me.

If you're looking to start running as well, here's a site I'm using to help me out.
http://www.coolrunning.com/engine/2/2_3/181.shtml

I'll keep you all updated on my progress.

Just FYI, I'd LOVE to have anyone and all of you join me for the run. Like I said, if I can do it, anyone can!!

Understanding Boy Barbies

I grew up in a household of all girls so the idea of Barbies is not uncommon. Neither is the idea of the male Barbie (i.e. Ken). My parents didn't have any taboos about getting Ken dolls; except that we were poor so Ken dolls were few and far between due to lack of money. Or perhaps they just used no money as an excuse not to get them for us. I know I use that excuse a lot "Mommy can I have a candy bar?" "Nope, I don't have any money" as I proceed to buy myself something lovely that I don't really need but just strongly desire like a yummy soy mocha (nothing tastes yummier than mocha made with soy) but, I digress.

So, while I understand the young girl fascination with Barbies, I don't, or haven't yet come to terms with what I call the barbie for boys. My son, L, HATES this term. Let me explain, the other day he was telling me yet another thing he wants for Christmas; I can't remember everything he's asked for but at least he hasn't asked for a planet like one of my friends children have. He prefaces his request like this "You know mom, I really don't have any toys at your house to play with. If I did, maybe I would want to spend the night here more often" - he's a clever young man and has already begun to master the art of manipulation. "is that right, L?" "yeah, I was thinking about what kind of toys we should have here at your house. The one thing I really need is ONLY $16.50. So, do you have $16.50 I can borrow to get me it?".

Notice how he knows the exact price of the toy as well as uses the term "borrow", as if he's going to pay me back? I doubt it.

"Well, why don't you tell me what it is? It's Christmas time, you know, and all mama's extra money has to be sent to Santa Clause" I told my kids a few years back that the reason santa brings some kids more presents than others (they asked) was because Santa doesn't have enough money anymore to pay for all the toys the kids want so moms and dads have to send money to santa to help pay for the cost of the toys. "If you tell me what it is I can send the $16.50 to Santa and see if he'll bring the toy to you" Have I taken all the fun, joy and excitement out of Christmas? Perhaps but my kids still believe!

L then tells me about this COOL toy that is G.I. Joe Ninja's - both the black one AND the white one in one box "You get BOTH of them mom!" He tells me all about them and I say "Oh, so they're G.I. Joe, Barbies?"

That was the wrong thing to say. His jaw dropped to the ground and looked at me in disbelief as if I was calling him a girly boy or something. "NO! Not Barbie's!" "But it's like a Barbie, right? Except G.I. Joe and with guns?" "No, not anything like a Barbie mom, it's G.I. Joe." "Yes, I understand, but it's as big as a Barbie, right?" "Yeah, I guess so" "So, it's like a Barbie, it could be like Barbie's G.I. Joe husband or something" "Mo-om. G.I. Joe, is G.I. Joe. He can't be Barbie's husband." "why not?" "Because he's G.I. Joe" "Oh, but couldn't Barbie's husband job be being G.I. Joe?"

Of course at this point I'm just winding my son up and he is too dumbfounded at the THOUGHT of G.I. Joe being a Barbie that he just doesn't see the wind up. I then told him that mommy doesn't have enough money to buy the G.I. Joe's he wants but I could buy a Ken doll, which is a boy Barbie and I could buy army clothes and a gun for the Ken doll. - Now let's be honest, it's the same thing really, right?

The girls, btw, thought that I was being completely logical about the entire conversation and saw nothing wrong with what I was saying. Of course GI Joe could be Barbie's husband and of course it's the exact same thing but to a little boy,the notion that he's playing with a doll (which he is) seems to be far too overwhelming.

On a side note to the whole conversation when I mentioned that boys used to play with G.I. Joes when I was a kid L looked at me as if I was totally stupid and said "no, mom, this is the REAL G.I. Joe I'm talking about."

I'm wondering if I have any male readers who can shed some light on the whole G.I. Joe is not a doll thing because I'm still not convinced, but I let it go because it was blowing my sons mind.

The Christmas Door

Following is T's Christmas story she wrote for a school assignment. She received an "A" on it - for my daughter who struggles to get "C"'s this is a HUGE accomplishment!

Once upon a time, there were two kids named Lucy and Kipper. They lived really close to a forest. Lucy and Kipper are twins but they don’t act like it and they don’t look like it. Lucy has blonde hair and hazel eyes. She’s 12 years old and acts like a prissy little girl. Kipper has golden eyes like his dad does but has brown hair instead of blonde. Kipper is the brave one of the twins. He’s not afraid of anything and when I say anything, I mean ANYTHING!

Lucy and Kipper were playing hide and go seek and they kept getting farther and farther into the forest. Lucy found these doors. One had a turkey on it, one had a heart on it, one had a Christmas tree, one had a pumpkin and one had a really colorful egg. She figured out that each door was about a different holiday. She looked at this tree and it represented Christmas so she went inside it to hide and that is how our story begins.

When she went through the door she fell down into this big black hole. She was really cold. She opened her eyes and there was snow everywhere and she saw a sign that said “Christmas Town”. So she went and looked around. She saw elves everywhere playing around with ducks and cats but then something pulled her out. This big huge hand pulled her out of Christmas Town because someone had followed her. It was her dad! So the dad said “What are you doing? You know better than to just run off.” Kipper was with his dad too and was in trouble too.

They all went home to have a nice cup of tea. So the next day Lucy and Kipper went back into the forest to try and find the Christmas door. They went in there and it was really dark out there. It was Christmas night so Santa came and they heard him. “Ho, ho, ho!” They got really scared so they hid behind the sign. They looked back and there was nothing there but when they turned around there was Santa, right in front of their faces. So they screamed and Santa screamed. They both ran off into someone’s house. So they hid under the bed and Santa, he went into a toilet and he got stuck there, but they were in the same house though.

So they heard a noise that went “arrrrgggghhh” like someone was stuck. They looked everywhere and there was Santa stuck in the toilet, trying to get out, and he said “Kids, don’t be afraid of me, can you help me out?” So the kids helped him out and he asked what their names were but they didn’t say because they were too shocked to see Santa in real life. They thought that it was their dad who had brought presents to them, not a real Santa.

Their dad was a widower, if you all don’t know what that is, a widower is a man whose wife died. Just like a widow but with an “er”.

So the dad went looking for them. He thought that they went into the Halloween Town. So he looked in there but he fell down because there was a big huge wind blowing at them. So he got really frightened so he didn’t know what to do. He tried to get out but he couldn’t so he just went to look around. He saw tons of creatures: Monsters, vampires, scary people, wolves, mummies. So they all caught him and they took him to this green liquid which was probably acid. So he started screaming “kids help!” So the kids heard him so Santa flew them out of the door and Santa was with them. So they looked in every door and yelled out “DAD!” So they went to the last door and it was the pumpkin door.

So they went in there and they said “DAD” and dad was like “Kids?” And so they flew down there and Santa rescued the dad. And the all went home, Santa even went home too. So the dad was really scared but then the step mom tried to find them. She looked into the Halloween town and so she went in there to find him. And she found no one except all those creatures. And she was dead forever and ever.

The End!

The Break-Up

One of the joys of being single is the almost inevitable break-up. Let's face it, when you're single, all but one relationship that you have will end in a break-up. Always, there's no getting around it. So that inevitable happened last night, and thanks to modern technology, it happened via text. Yes, I said it, by text! That's bad, I know it's bad and a sign that perhaps that was the better option.

I've been dating this guy for just a short while now so not too much heart-break there, it's more the reasoning behind the break-up that really bugs. I can handle if I'm annoying, or too controlling or too, fat, or too whatever, but this one was ever so different.

Let me preface that this individual, we'll call him Ben, had been married previously and is now a widower. Ben's wife had a son from a previous marriage. Ben spent the years of their marriage building a strong relationship with her son. The son called him dad and they were, for all intents and purposes, father and son. Upon her passing the state did not allow Ben to have custody of his son. Instead son was placed in custody with his natural father (who hadn't seen the son for the entire marriage).

So, Ben's problem with me, and the reason for the break-up was because the kids aren't MY kids. If I had three kids that were my natural kids he would have been fine. But, since they aren't mine, and their mother could come back at any time and ask to have them back (and the state would give them back to her)then he didn't want to get involved. To put it in his words "I don't know if I want to work so hard on a family I don't know will be there tomorrow. It's not fair to them or me. I just don't see this as being a good position for anyone. You're great and I miss you and I really do love you. I want to stop before I'm in love with you."

So, go figure, huh? This time my relationship woes are because I went out of my way to give a home to children in need.

Ahh, the joys of being single...did I mention I hate shoveling snow?

Realizations

It's 6:30 Monday morning and where do you find me? Outside, shoveling the driveway and sidewalks. Not really what I want to do on a Monday morning. As I'm out in the cold clearing the way for the car I came to a couple of realizations about being a single mom.

1. Don't move into a corner lot. Yes, it has a bigger yard for the kids but honestly, it just means more sidewalk to shovel and more grass to mow.

2. The perfect reason to get into a relationship with someone at this point in my life is to NOT have to shovel the sidewalks again...is that good enough reason?

3. Next time I move it'll be into an apartment. No, we won't have as much space but, damn sure does beat shoveling sidewalks at 6:30 in the morning.

4. I'm the only house in the neighborhood who has shoveled their sidewalks the last three days. Am I an idiot? Maybe I don't have to in this neighborhood.

5. I'm also the only one who doesn't have Christmas lights up. Where is my Christmas spirit? Lost in the shoveling of sidewalks.

6. Heater vents in cars make for great hair dryers when you spend the time you would have spent drying your hair shoveling your sidewalks instead.

7. Waking up with a black tongue is cause for concern until you realize you took Pepto Bismol the evening before.

8. Why am I shoveling sidewalks when I spent the day before being sick enough to have to gag down Pepto? Oh yeah, cause I'm single...good reason to find a man, right?

9. Wouldn't it be nice if we could put our gym memberships on hold during the snowy months? Because honestly, who needs to go to the gym when you have a corner lot and double wide drive to shovel?

10. If I go back to online dating do you think the headline "Looking for Man to Shovel my Sidewalks" will be a catchy title? I will then proceed to discuss how I don't necessarily need a man, I'm just tired of shoveling.

11. How much does a snowblower cost? Less than a man?

Blogging to Myself

Do you ever get the feeling you're blogging to yourself? Well, I guess its better than talking to yourself, right?

I've always said that talking to yourself is alright as long as you don't answer back. As soon as you answer back you know you've lost it.

Is it the same with blogging to yourself?