Climb to Conquer Cancer

Today I climbed South Mountain once again. I've been doing this climb every year since I was 20... with a few exceptions. I brought Connor and Mia with me. Neither of them was the least bit happy to be there. Last night was not fun, with a capital NT, and I am tired as hell today. I got there late, just as police were setting up the barricades, so I had to hoof it 1.5 miles just to get to the registraion tables where I met the parents. The climb is supposed to be 5 miles, but we only made it three before Miss Mia had a virtual meltdown, and I decided to turn myself around and head back down. As it was, we probably would have made better time if I had just finished and taken the bus down. Oh well. In all, I think I walked about 7-8 miles today.

My father is a survivor of prostate cancer, so this walk is especially important to me.

I wanted to write something interesting and witty tonight, but I am tired. Instead, I'll leave you with a picture. Check out the fauxhawk.


Reality Color Commentating & Mia Torments Me Further

Eric is always making fun of my TV viewing habits. I admit, much of my TiVo list includes most of the Bravo lineup. I swear, I only watch "The Real Housewives" to mock the utter avarice and cattiness. He refers to "The Biggest Loser" as "that fat people show." "Project Runway" is "that show without straight men." In a fit of desperation, while struggling though last year's writers' strike, I got hooked on "Make Me a Supermodel," and ohmygodIcantbelieveIamgoingtoadmitthis, even "Groomer Has It." Yeah. Good times!

Eric laughs and mocks, but I usually know where the remote control is. Which means I decide what we watch as we try to wake up in the morning. To his credit, he will sit through an entire reality hour without complaining. That doesn't mean he doesn't comment, however. Imagine watching reality TV with Yogi Berra or Harry Kari. That's exactly what it's like watching "Top Chef" with Eric. I don't mean that I get a second-hand play-by-play of the culinary action. I mean he comments on everything that happens in each episode. And then there's his favorite reality TV pastime: picking out the penis.

The penis is the contestant whom Eric deems the dickiest. On this season of "Top Chef: New York," that would be Stefan, the overly confident penis from Finland. Once said penis has been identified, I can expect the rest of the episodes to be filled with such colorful phrases as, "I want to hit him, " and "He's such a penis, I should draw a scrotum on his neck." So it was, this morning, that we watched the season finale with all the gusto of the Super Bowl, all the while Eric actively cheering against Stefan. I believe he shed a tear when Hosea was announced as this season's winner.

On to the next show, and undiscovered penises yet to be labelled and mocked.


Mia has mastered the art of rolling. She's using it as a form of transport now, rolling from one end of the family room rug to the other, and stealthily sneaking up on an unsuspecting dog. Heretofore, she has been an unwilling and often complaining member of the Tummy Time Club, preferring to bitch and cry whenever she ended up in such as position. In the event she accidentally rolled over onto her tummy, all heck would break loose, and no peace would be had until her precarious situation was rectified.

Imagine my surprise, then, when she did a barrel roll, a la alligator, and decided to sleep on her tummy. And no, that's not quite an accurate description. She decided to take a face plant and sleep like this:

Okay, I may not be the best mom ever, but I know that babies aren't supposed to sleep on their tummies. Oh, sure, I know lots of babies who will ONLY sleep on their tummies, but Mia has never been one of those. Yes, she is sleeping in this picture, and yes, her face lies directly against the mattress. The first night this happened, I convinced myself that one of two things was going to happen: a) she would most surely suffocate, or b) someone from the SIDS Prevention Alliance was going to come and knock down my door and send me to mommy prison for allowing her to sleep this way.

Then I got over, relaxed, and realized that she would be okay. And you know what? She was just fine.


Reasons for not running today

1. Tess, my four-footed running partner, tried to eat a beagle. I decided to leave her at home. She was most upset and howled for the duration, which upset my other two dogs. I am sure the neighborhood would appreciate it if I just took her with me from now on.

I could not take her, though, because Eric was still sleeping (despite the absolute chaos taking place in our backyard, so I decided to take Mia with me in the as yet unused jogging stroller.

2. The jogging stroller. So pretty with it's orange and black color scheme and ultra cool with an iPod hookup to external speakers. I got it halfway down the block before I realized that the tires were flat. (This was my second return trip home, the first to return Tess.)

3. Eric was roused by the dogs barking -- finally - and I yelled at him through the security door to find me the air pump for the tire. Poor Eric. He wasn't quite awake yet and was still trying to piece together why on earth the dogs were having a complete meltdown in the backyard.

Air pump was found, Eric fixed my tires, and I changed Mia, who had managed to spit up half of her rice cereal and pears on her onesie and pants. Set out once again. A little less determined, but I figured I couldn't give up now, especially since Eric was in his tired/confused/annoyed state.

4. I use Robert Ullrey's podcasts for the Couch to 5k program. They are set to music, and the times are spaced out perfectly. I don't have to watch the timer to see when to run and when to revert to brisk walking. In my haste to finally get going, I turned on the week four podcast instead of the week two podcast. I was four minutes into what should have been a two-minute run before I realized me mistake and inevitably found the right spot in the correct pocast.

I could have given up, but I didn't. And although my running is barely faster than my brisk walking, I feel accomplished.


Weight check:

Starting weight (and last week): 154.6
This week: 155.4

Gained half a pound. While my exercise has been great, I need to eat better. *Sigh*


A "Convenient" Pregnancy Loss

What up, "Big Love?" Just when I was going and liking you and watching you one the regular. Then you succumb to that bastion of all things horrible and wrong about teenagers on the small screen. You staged a mini-pregnancy. And now, I have completely lost faith in your originality and character lines.

It hearkens way back before Brenda Walsh had the big pregnancy scare on "90210" (the original). I believe it got its start on the after-school special in the early 80's. Here's how it plays out: teenage girl, despite being portrayed as smart and sassy, gets knocked up by some boyfriend/uncle/neighborhood drug-dealer. Several episodes are filmed that deal with this mess, and they are often referred o s "a very special episode." Tight close-ups of the teens struggling with the news and their decisions. Should she get an abortion. Should she put the baby up for adoption? Should she tell her parents? Will her pregnancy affect her prospects for the prom? It's all very dramatic.
Inevitably, it all amounts to the same. The girl decides she is going to have the baby, and just as she is about to spill the beans to her parents -- who would no doubt be very understanding -- she has a miscarriage. Sometimes the miscarriage is proceeded by some horrible accident,but in the end, the producers and writers of the show stage a convenient miscarriage to wrap up this "very special storyline."

Miscarriages are common, to be sure. More common than television and Hollywood would ever let on. We never see a happily married couple struggling to get pregnant only to lose it in real fashion -- a horribly sucky way. As a member myself of the so many miscarriages I should be in a book community, it angers me to see this cliche storyline used again and again. When miscarriage comes a relief instead f the awful loss that it is, then we are missing something -- humanity.


Alas Poor Bed, I Knew It Well

Sleep. Why won't she just sleep. I am tired of that stupid freaking Pampers commercial. The one in which a host of unconscious babies are shown as that twangy little number plays in the the background -- "Silent Night." Everytime soneone asks me if she is sleeping through the night, I have to stifle the urge to slap them and make them babysit. We're good for a four to five-hour stretch at the getgo, then it's anywhere from 1-2 hours until I finally relent and just bring her to bed with me. At which time she commences to play kcikball with my ribs.

Now she's playing "I know it's my bedtime, but I am not going to sleep."

She's rolling. All over the place, even in her crib while she sleeps. She has decided she likes sleeping on her tummy. Which is odd, since she hates it while she's awake.


Calories and Fat Grams

Yeah, so I have been tracking my nutrional intake with BabyFit.com. According to "them," I am to eat a minimum of 2000 calories per day, since I am breastfeeding. I "totally pigged out" today, including a tall white mocha latte from Starbucks (soy), and half a Freschetta's pizza (pepperoni). 1700 freaking calories.
Then I checked out my fat grams, and I'm over 70.How the heck do I increase my calories and decrease my fat grams? At least my protein intake was stellar.



Her Royal Highness tried a sipppy cup for the first time. She took to it with all the ferociousness of a mother wolverine. Look at her eyeing the camera, as if she's saying "Don't mess with me," all while keeping her death grip on the sippy cup.


Happy Birthday, Grandma!

Today is my grandma's 80th birthday. I made her this blanket as a surprise. It's made from Red Heart Supersaver in Frosty Green. I can just picture her with a book and a warm cup of coffee cuddled up on a cold Wisconsin morning. Happy Birthday, Grandma! I hope you enjoy.


Getting off the Couch

Instead of cursing every time I hop on the scale or chide myself for eating all the wrong things, I have decided to do something about it. How novel, no? Yesterday, I began the Couch to 5K program (again). Before I got pregnant with Mia, I was running four times a week, looking very good in my size six jeans, and generally feeling pretty healhy.Right now, I weigh 155 pounds, am sometimes squeezing into a size ten, and was horrified to see myself in a swim suit from our recent vacation pictures in Mexico. Will post picture at some other time. Not to mention that I have a closet full of very nice clothes that no longer fit over my behind. And then there's the muffin top. I am sure it is horrid enough to scare small children, and some pets.My goal is to get back to my pre-pregnancy statues by the time Mia turns one in September. I'd also like to have a 5K and maybe a 10K under my belt by then.Here's the plan:*C25K runs, Wednesday, Friday and Sunday*Yoga or Pilates -- Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday*Strenght Training -- Monday, Wednesday, Friday*Tai Chi and Step and intervalsI also joined the fine folks over at BabyFit. I tried to sign up through SparkPeople, but they rejected me because I am breastfeeding. I find it very useful to write down everything that I eat. According to the BabyFit nutritional guide, I should be eating a minimum of 2000 calories per day. I am lucky if I can squeeze in 1600. And drinking 100 oiunces of water? That is going to be a challenge.Look out world, here comes my larger than life butt in a pair of yoga pants!
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