-
-
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License
Q&A
Zoe spent the night at my parent’s on Wednesday and I guess she asked my mom the big question … how do babies come out?
My mother told her that girls come with a special opening to get the babies out.
I have no idea what Zoe was envisioning, but when my mother told me this yesterday morning the first thing that came to my mind was a zipper near my belly button that would easily slide over and wallah, out comes the baby.
Of course, since I’ve been through childbirth, I know this is not the case.
So last night Zoe hit me with the baby question, and I told her we’d talk about it later, MUCH later, when she’s older, and she was okay with that.
This morning she said to me, “Mom, I have a question for you.” And of course I was thinking, oh boy, is she going to hit me with the baby question again???
But instead, she asked, “How do cars get their colors?”
Whew!
“Well, Zoe, the person who paints the car decides.”
I don’t know how her mind works, but I can’t wait to hear what she wants to know next.
Superun
Last night I ran the Superun 5K again. It was 90 degrees out all day, but the run was at 7 p.m. and right on Lake Michigan so the temperature was probably closer to 80 degrees. This time I was prepared for the course and my plan included walking up the hill. Last time I ran up the hill, which was at the end of the first mile, and it killed me for the rest of the run. So I walked up the hill, and yes, it slowed my time down, but I was able to finish the 5K without feeling like I was going to die.
My first mile I did in 9:12 (that’s 9 minutes, 12 seconds), my second mile was about 13 minutes (which wasn’t too bad considering I walked up that freaking big hill), and I crossed the finish line at 34 minutes. There was only one water table at the beginning of mile 3, which I walked through because I actually wanted to drink my water rather than pour it over my head.
I haven’t been running as much as I used to, so I’m not terribly disappointed in my time. I don’t think it’s my worse time ever, but it’s not my best either. I run much faster on a treadmill and my breathing is a lot more controlled. I run outside, and my breathing is all over the place. If I wear my heartrate monitor I end up maxing my heartrate out just because I have the damn thing on.
My husband finished in 22:12, I might be off a few seconds, but it was a personal best for him. He runs almost every day, and he’s preparing for the Lakefront Marathon which is on October 7th.
That reminds me, I’m damn lucky he got into the marathon because it fill early this year and he just made it since I mailed his registration on June 15th and by June 20th the race was closed. He wanted to register a few weeks earlier and made him wait until payday, and he said “if I don’t get in it’ll be all your fault” and I thought to myself, it’s the beginning of JUNE, he’s got at least until AUGUST. Well, not this year, but his name is on the list and like I said, I’m so lucky!
Wordless Wednesday: Neighborhood friends
These lovely turkeys actually visit my neighbors through the backyard daily.
| www.flickr.com
|
and then what happened
There is a risk of forgetting how painful my experience was with my brand new bike rack with each passing day, here is what happened:
Saturday morning Zoe and I took the dogs to the boarding kennel while my husband loaded the car. When we arrived home he was almost done putting the bike rack on the trunk of my Honda Hybrid. It was a brand new, fresh out of the box, Saris Bones 3 bike rack and it was supposed to be a piece of cake.
There are 6 straps that secure the rack to the trunk, and he said to me, “I sure hope this is secure enough,” which I took as an open invitation for “why don’t you give it a try for awhile.”
That was not what he meant.
And I found that out when I started to monkey around with the straps and opened the trunk while it was connected, which is NOT the thing to do because it just means that you have to start all over again.
After about an hour of re-setting up the bike rack and then tightening and readjusting we finally were ready to put the bikes on it. The instruction sheet wasn’t that great, and we’d never done this before, and it was hot in the garage, and he was fuming mad at me for opening the trunk after he had the rack attached (Rightfully so, but I had no idea that you installed it on a closed trunk). We were both so pissed off that if a cheery person would have walked up the driveway to say hello, they’d have gotten their heads bitten off within seconds.
We got the bikes on, got into the car, and headed towards Door County. It wasn’t until about an hour into the drive when I found the line in the instructions that said to tie off the straps at the clamps. So we tightened the straps and then tied them off. This didn’t stop me from worrying about the bikes falling off the back of the car for the rest of the drive. I had visions of them sliding onto the Interstate and then causing a huge accident.
They didn’t. We arrived without incident.
On the way home we had no problems getting the rack on the trunk, nor did we have any problems getting the bikes on there either. Everything was tight and secure, and then we pulled over in Sheboygan to fill up for gas. My husband accidentally popped the trunk instead of pressing down the lever to open the door to the gas cap.
Oh shit.
At first we tried to just undo the straps to the bike rack to shut the trunk, but that didn’t work. So then my husband stood there and held the bike rack with all three bikes on it while I tried to shut the trunk, but it wouldn’t shut. Finally he had to put the bikes down and I had to balance them while they were still attached to the rack.
While I did that, he and a kind gentleman determined that the latch to the trunk was broken and that was the reason it wasn’t closing. A third man came over to offer his help and it turned out that he had rope in truck that he could use to tie our trunk shut, then they put the bike rack back on the trunk and we set about to tighten and tie all the straps again.
We had to drive home for the last hour like that. I was already worried that the bikes were going to fall right off the trunk to begin with, and now the trunk was broken. It was not good, and I was anxious mess.
I freaking hate that bike rack.
And it cost me $95 to get a new latch for my trunk too.
The bike rack
We are home from vacation. We had a fabulous time! I’ve got loads to share, but first I need to balance my checkbook and read the new Stephanie Plum novel…… top of my list to jot down here is the bike rack, and how much I hate it, and that I hate my trunk too, and the lever for the trunk, and the latch to the trunk, and then I need to tell you all about Peninsula State Park, and Alexander’s, and kayaking, and Death’s Door Bluff, and a chicken, and I’ve got about 50 pictures to share too.
The ATM ate his card
Here is another post from the chronicle of my life. It’s about the first date I had with my husband. Enjoy!
Our First Date
I’m sharing my answer here because in hindsight it was probably one of the oddest first dates I’ve ever had.
My first date with my hubby was a ’semi-blind’ date. We met at the gym, but didn’t know each at all.
He asked me out for Friday night date, and I accepted. However, through a planning error on my part, I’d also agreed to watch my 18 month old twin nephews that night. My nephews were saying everyone else’s names, other than mine, and I was on a mission to brainwash them — come hell or high water, they were going to say ‘Auntie Indigo’!
It was a tough call. On the one hand: hot date. On the other hand: training my nephews to repeat my name. Can you see the dilemma?
So, our first date was at my apartment. It consisted of him helping me babysit 18 month old twins. Can you imagine??
Oh, and he was supposed to bring chinese dinner with him, but he forgot his password at the ATM machine, and it ate his card.
The next night he took me out for coffee, although he had zero money due to the ATM card incident, so I had to pay. We played chess …. guess who won? Me!
-
Subscribe
