Running is its own reward...

Today was RACE DAY! It was a somewhat bittersweet experience. The race was reeeaaaallllly small, so I was in actual danger of being dead last. However, they did medals based on gender and age groups, so depending on how many other women there were aged 20-24, I still had a shot.

The route was a lot more uphilly than I had anticipated, but I powered through and ran all the way to the finish line. I even sprinted the last bit, because that's what you DO at a race! My goal was to finish in 35 minutes, and I had at least 5 seconds to spare. Woohoo! So pretty much that was the sweet part: I ran the whole, did not die, made my goal time, AND beat maybe four other people.

The bitter part is just sort of petty... Both Matt and his dad ran the race, too, and they both ended up getting 2nd place medals in their divisions (yup, second out of two). Technically, I beat Matt. Even though we ran the whole time together (and in a real race he would have won hands down), I caught him off guard with my last-minute sprinting. But there were a lot more folks my age than his age running, so my great effort went un-medaled.

So Matt and his dad both got medals and I didn't. Fine, whatever, go them! But at the end of the race there was a raffle. And remember that this was a really small race, so there was a good chance I would win a prize. I didn't, but you know who did? Matt. AND his dad.

Phbbbbtt.

Whatever, dudes, next year I'll win the race and I'll win the best prize. Wait and see.

Our plants need prayers.

My brother left us a few starter plants that he grew in his greenhouse, but we forgot about them a bit and now they aren't looking so lively...

We planted them anyway, and with some luck (and water) they should pull through.  Although, judging by how we've done so far, I should probably lower my expectations.  Plants are not my forte; at least I remember to water the baby.

These seeds are soooo pretty, but I do not know why.

If the garden ends up with anything edible in it, we shall rejoice!  And then we'll eat it! 

Someone in my house is sneaky.

I was making a list of my favorite books, and I left it overnight. When I came back in the morning, I found this:

See it?
Here's a closer look:

I did NOT write that, but I have my suspicions about who did.

Come on, "Lady."

I recently discovered that Lady Gaga and I were born in the same year. Crazy, I know! I thought she was older than that. Then I thought, "She's too young to dress so scandalously!" Anybody the same age as I am is too young to be photographed so often without pants. This will be true until they are too old and the public cries out against their pantslessness (I'm looking at you, Madonna).

So here's a video of some guys (who ARE wearing pants) singing Pokerface. This is how it should be done.

There had better be more like this or spring is fired!

Today it is so beautiful outside, I just wanna lay in the grass and sleep with a book over my head.  (I can't really do that, though, mostly because of Izzy but also because the last time I did that the sun melted the book binding and all the pages fell out.)  The sun is shining, there are cool breezes and pretty clouds, and I'm pretty sure the house is surrounded by musical, non-Hitchcockian birds.  (Where were they when I needed them?!)

I hope the weather is this pleasant this weekend so that we can go HIKING on a nearby mountain!  Also we could do some CAMPING!...in the backyard.  I think that still counts.  Hooray for outside!

If I could put today in a jar with some air holes and a twig and then keep it in my room, I would. 

What I have been up to: not sucking.

This week I successfully completed week five of my running program. (Here is where that begins.)  That means that I ran for twenty minutes without stopping, so yay me.  I've got one more week to train before my first race, so we'll see how I do.  I won't be running three miles by then, which makes it entirely possible that my heart will stop working somewhere around mile 2.5.  Assuming I don't die, though, I plan to finish somewhere around 35 minutes.  I'm not sure whether that's reasonable or not, but for now let's just say that it is and that if I make it I'll get some kind of reward.  What do you think that should be?

The one stop shop for all things camoflage.

We visited Cabela's for the first time today and it was like going to Disneyland, only souvenirs were a lot more expensive and there weren't as many rides.  So pretty much it was huge and strange and a little bit disappointing, but we'll probably still go back for the magic of it.

My favorite part was the fake mountain with all of the taxidermied animals.  Specifically the prairie dog part.  Specifically specifically the one that was already halfway down the hole, so all you could see was its furry bottom.

Books can be tricksy.

I finished reading "Little Women" the other day and I should have read it a long time ago.  I mean, it's a classic.  Also I liked it.  But every once in a while I read a "classic" book that is really long and boring (*cough cough* "Vanity Fair") and it makes me hesitant to pick up another one.  It makes me forget that quite a lot of old books are still read because they are still entertaining, and not just because they are scholarly in some blah blah blah kind of way. 

So here I go again, tootling along in the classic book world, until I find another one that's a blah blah blah stinkbomb.  Then I'll go back to reading whatever takes my fancy, even if it isn't fancy.

There's a difference, see.

What's cute?

A little baby just learning how to scootch herself across the floor.

What's not as cute?

That same baby scootching herself across the carpet after making a secret yet explosive poop.  The trail she leaves isn't as cute, anyway.

There and back again

Friday was our last day in DC and Matt's only day of sight-seeing, so we went to the National Air and Space Museum to look at rockets and stuff.  Going on a Friday in May meant that we had to share the museum space with swarms of school children who weren't very good at looking at where they were going.  I was working on figuring out how to feed Izzy in the Moby Wrap so that I could walk around and see things too, and while I don't have all the kinks worked out yet, I'm pretty sure I didn't unintentionally (or intentionally) flash any of the underage folks.  Nobody complained, anyway.

On a side note, wearing a baby is usually peachy keen but on a warm day it's more like wearing a wiggly bag of hot potatoes.  Or being pregnant again.

Our flight home was delayed on the runway for over an hour and a half due to hailstones the size of quarters somewhere in the flight path, or something like that.  That was a cruddy bit of business, but we did eventually make it off the ground and we did not get struck by lightning or anything, so I call that a successful flight.  Also on the plus side, we managed to make it home before midnight and our house was neither burgled nor burned down by the lava lamp I forgot to unplug.  Lucky us.

So far, we've had some times.

Monday was our two-year-anniversary and as a present, Izzy made a giant poop on the way to the airport.  We were forced to change all her clothes and do a sponge-bath type thing in the back of the car, but we still made our flight on time.  She slept most of the way to DC which was a second, better anniversary present.
On Tuesday I nursed Izzy in an aviary.  Never done that before...  Later we went to dinner with the other folks in Matt's company, and I ordered a ribeye steak that weighed about 22 oz.  It was huge and DELICIOUS so I ended up eating a lot of meat.  Also we got giant popovers that were so good I had dreams about them.

Wednesday afternoon Izzy and I were napping.  When I woke up, I looked out the window to check the weather and saw maybe 50 cops on motorcycles, with more arriving.  Turns out there's some kind of convention, and the lobby was swarmed with cops in bike shorts and blue shirts, drinking beer.  They filled the elevators and seemed very genial.  Our hotel has protesters, too!  A man with a drum and a woman with a bunch of flyers kept shouting things like, "BOY!!  COTT!! THIS HOTEL!!" and "DON'T CHECK IN!! CHECK!! OUT!!" 

This morning I was woken up around 7 AM by the boycotters.  I have no idea what they are protesting, but I heard them say something about the hotel not being family-friendly.  Whatever, I was having a great time until THEY showed up.  I wanted to throw water on them from my window (how DARE they come between a mother and her sleep!!) but instead I told Matt to beat them up.  He didn't do that, either.  Eventually somebody stole the man's drum, and he shouted about that for a while, and then I don't know where they went.  I do not want to see them tomorrow.

Tomorrow is our last day here, and I don't expect anything exciting to happen.  But one never knows, does one...

Another long flight with an infant! Yay...?

Tomorrow we leave for Washington DC on another business trip.  Nobody rob our house while we are gone because it will be full of TERRIBLE KILLER BEES who will sting you until you are DEAD.

It's supposed to taste fancier than usual.

I recently acquired a somewhat used spice rack (somebody moved; I did not steal it from the neighbors).  My first thought was, "Woohoo!  Free spices to make my food more delicious!"  My second thought was, "Wait, I don't know how to use these..."  Carraway?  Fennel?  I only know about sage and thyme because of the Simon and Garfunkel song, which unfortunately does not give instructions for their use.  Looks like I got some experimenting to do.  Matt has already promised to tell me when I make something gross.  He's so great.

Bookcase hack!

We have a lot of bookcases in our house, and a baby who is becoming increasingly mobile.  Matt came up with an ingenious plan for protecting our things and protecting the baby.  He attached pieces of corner molding to the edges of the bookcases, leaving a slot where a piece of plexiglass would fit.

Now you can see all of our pretty things...

...but not touch them.

Not without the suction-cup handle, anyway.

Which is also kind of awesome.

Yes, we are very pleased.  Possibly unreasonably so.  But probably not.

real dinner with real folks

Yesterday I got to get very dressed up with fancy hair and makeup and everything because Matt and I went on a double date!  Izzy was our fifth wheel, but she did not detract from the enjoyment of spending quality time with other adults.  My nice clothes even made it through the evening relatively unscathed, despite the fact that I have not yet mastered the art of placing food well out of a baby's reach.  (She managed to stick both her hands into my bowl of chowder, which made her cry and made me sad.  After a very little while we were both okay and I still ate the soup.)

Did I mention the free drinks?  No?  Well, apparently I am a free drink magnet.  I ordered an unusual drink (vanilla lemonade) just to see what it was like, and our waitress was very hesitant to bring it to me because she thought it did not sound delicious.  Just to make sure I was happy, she also brought a raspberry lemonade.  Later she came back and said something like, "You know what's really good?  Our raspberry-vanilla Italian sodas.  It's like what you have now only different.  Let me bring you one....No, it's okay that you can't drink them all, I'll just bring a little one."  Unfortunately, all three drinks were very sweet, so I mostly stuck to the water.  ...Oh fine, I also ate the whipped cream off the Italian soda.

In other news, I am figuring out how to use spreadsheets again, and it is sort of like doing magic.  I am maybe a little too excited.

I did it!

It took me about an hour and a half to put my hair up in rags and then sleeping was really uncomfortable, but my hair was HUGE and sort of awesome for church today.



My hair is normally midway down my back, too, but today I'm not sure it even touched my shoulders.  When Izzy has long enough hair I will do it to her.  One very curly bit, right on top of her head.  It will be fanTAStic.

Keep the receipt or else.

We bought some clothes from Costco today, which is sort of a gamble because you can't try them on in the store. I don't normally do that (gamble, that is) so it's kind of exciting. MAYBE these cheap pants I bought will fit perfectly or MAYBE I will not be able to pull them up past my thighs and then I will cry. Which one will it be?

Turns out it was the first thing, woo!

So I will probably play this pants-roulette thing again in the future because when I win it makes me feel more awesome, and I do not believe that there is a limit to how awesome one should feel.