Running news

I haven't written about running lately because, frankly, there's nothing much to report. Campbell's taken taken to waking up at o'dark-hundred every morning, and I can never tell whether he's going to go back to sleep for 15 minutes or two hours. If I do run these days, it's with Campbell in the jogger, and while I love having him along for the ride, pushing the jogger stinks.

Wednesday morning I ran a quick 1 1/2 mile out-and-back in the neighborhood and then did circuit training - lunges, squats, step-ups, crunches, etc on the front lawn, followed by a lap around the block. After each lap I'd stand outside Campbell's window and listen for screaming. He woke up while I was on my second lap, so I finished up and headed inside.

I don't feel comfortable leaving behind a possibly screaming baby because you could drive a freight train through our bedroom and B would sleep through it. I'm not exagerating. When I do leave the baby behind, I put the monitor next to B's ear and turn the volume up to 11. This morning, according to the girls, they had to go get B to tell him Campbell was up. This doesn't help my nerves about my upcoming trip. But that's another post for another time.

Anyway, I headed down to the trail this morning for the first time in what seems like months. I got there at 6:20 and didn't expect to see any running friends, which was just fine with me; I wanted to run my own thing. But as I was headed across the MoPac bridge, I saw Cristina, who convinced me to turn around and at least say hi to the rest of the group. Long story short, they convinced me to start out with them.

I ran the first two miles with Anne, Cristina, and Shannon, and I felt surprisingly strong, especially given that I was chatting with Cristina the whole way. The girls were headed off onto surface roads for what ended up being another five miles, so I stuck to the trail, finishing the four-mile loop.

It was definitely the right choice: I finished feeling good and like I had accomplished something. It was a better run than many of the ones I had this summer when I was supposedly in better shape than I am now. Perhaps all the miles with Campbell in the jogger are paying off.

In the end, it was the perfect Saturday morning run for me. I had the chance to visit with friends and the chance to run by myself. The only problem is that I'm already sore. I hate to think what I'm going to feel like tomorrow.

Things I'd forgotten

Here's a list of things I'd forgotten about 1-year-olds/new toddlers.

They look like a cross between Charlie Chaplin and a duck when they walk, especially if they're just wearing a diaper.

They get good at going up stairs very quickly, but it takes them MUCH longer to figure out how to get back down safely. In the meantime, I develop lightening-fast reflexes every time Campbell gets near the stairs.

They develop this fascination with putting things in other things. We've learned that whenever we can't find our keys/cell phone/tv remote/hairbrush/etc we need to look in all of the drawers, garbage cans, and diaper pails within Campbell's reach. Ella and Lily have learned to check the kitchen trash for missing toys. Campbell's thrown away quite a lot of their stuff. Each time they get upset I remind them that if they had picked up the toy to begin with, Campbell wouldn't have been able to throw it away.

They demonstrate the law of physics that says, "A body in motion will stay in motion . . ." Campbell will walk and walk and walk in a straight line until he runs into something or I head him off and turn him around. Then he walk in a straight line whichever direction I've just faced him. He's like a little wind-up toy waddling along.

They don't sit still, not ever. Campbell will not sit in my lap at all, even when he wants comforting. If he falls down or donks his head or just needs reassurance, he will waddle over and hold up his arms for me to hold him. He'll put his head on my shoulder for about 2 seconds and then wriggle back off my lap. He won't even sit in my lap to drink a bottle of milk. And now that he's down to just nursing once a day, he doesn't even want to hold still for that. I think tonight's his last night of nursing before bed.

They are just so fun. I had been so sad about Campbell's turning one that I forgot how fun babies are at this stage. He loves doing things to make me laugh and gives big belly laughs when I do something silly, like putting my shoe on my head. He's a tremendous flirt with just about everyone, making people work to get him to smile. Campbell has started giving us kisses, which are more like a big lick, but we know what he means. And his brief snuggles are just so sweet.

When Ella was about six months old, I was having a really tough time as a new mother. Part of my problem was a profound sadness at how short a time babies are babies. My Aunt Jane was in town for a visit with my cousins, and she said something to me that helped more than I can ever describe. She said that kids just keep getting better, that each stage is fun. That one comment helped me refocus as a mother, and it has turned out to be completely true. Babyhood is sweet and snuggly, but toddlerhood is a blast too. I need to remember to enjoy the stage I'm in instead of missing the stage that's past. And that goes for all three of my kids, not just Campbell.

Playing tourist in our own town

Yesterday I took the kids on a long-promised trip to the new Town Lake Park, down by Auditorium Shores. I had an almost-blinding migraine, but I decided to grit my teeth and go, because I knew if we didn't, I'd spend the afternoon listening to crying and whining about how I had "PROMISED" to take them. I'm glad we went. The girls ran and laughed and splashed for an hour. Campbell staggered around after them, occassionaly venturing off on his own towards the big lawn. I'd have to head him off at the pass and herd him back to the proper area. As we left, Ella asked if she could wear her bathing suit the next time, and I said yes, but I honestly think that part of what made it so fun for them was that they were in their clothes getting soaked.

After we played in the fountains, I tried to get a picture of all three kids looking happy. It didn't go well.

Conversation overheard

Scene: The girls during bath time.

Ella: Lily, wanna hear a joke? What did the strawberry do when it saw the apple turn over?
Lily: What?
Ella: It rolled!
Lily: Puzzled silence
Ella: I know. I don't get it either.

Huck Finn would be proud

After last week's meltdown over cleaning their room, the girls have been doing a great job of straightening up each afternoon. I decided to capitalize on their current level of cooperation by having them join me in Saturday morning chores. So this Saturday, after a decent amount of cartoon time (we're still doing really well with our tv-free school days, by the way), I told the girls it was time to clean their room. They marched off cheerfully and cleaned to the song stylings of Joe McDermott, coming out a half hour later to announce they were finished.

After my inspection, I told them they were going on a treasure hunt, which got their attention. The treasures were all of their books scattered throughout the house, and I promised a prize to whoever found the most books. Of course Ella won, but I told Lily there was a prize for second place. Ella's prize was getting to dust my room. The look on her face was classic: on the one hand, she knew she'd been had, but on the other, she loves getting to use the feather duster. She she twirled off to my room, duster in hand. I told Lily her prize was getting to dust the living room. She burst into tears and said, "But I want to vacuum the kitchen!" So I pretended to think about it for a few minutes before letting her vacuum to her heart's content.

Then she asked to mop, and again, after "thinking" about it, I agreed to let her mop the kitchen if she did a good job vacuuming. Ella arrived to protest that it wasn't fair that Lily got to mop but she didn't. So I told her she could mop the living room and their bathroom. But then Lily wanted to mop more, so I told her she could mop the hall and one of the bedrooms. Before I knew it, they had vacuumed and mopped the whole front of the house.

The floors weren't spotless when they were done, but they were pretty clean. Plus the girls had fun, and I got to fold laundry instead of vacuuming and mopping. It was a good deal all around. So we celebrated by going to "Chick-ill-a" for lunch.

The Three-hour Tour

Last night was the annual Gardner Group client appreciation party, and for a change it went really well.

Two years ago we had the still-talked-about Cruise from Hell on Lake Travis. The party planner rented a party boat that docked at Lakeway Marina, about a 45-minute drive for most people. To get to the boat, you had to climb down narrow, steep stairs and wend your way along boat docks. I did this with two kids in tow who were in constant danger of falling in. Once we got to the boat, things didn't improve. It was mid-August at 5:00 pm, and it was HOT. The boat could hold 100 people, and we had 110, so the captain refused to leave the dock until 10 people got off. So we sat at the marina, baking in the sun, with the captain walking around with his stupid little clicky counter muttering about how there were too many people. Finally, 10 people left and we set sail. The cruise itself was fine - we had good food and good wine. Rob, the office manager, brought tons of candy for all the kids, so they were happy. But things took a dire turn when one guest, a 17-year-old touched a piece of fish and then touched her mouth. She is deathly allergic to fish, and had an immediate reaction from just that little bit of contact. We had to turn the boat around and call for an ambulance to meet us at the dock. Once we got to the dock, the captain started screaming at everyone to get off so the paramedics could do their work. He started yelling at me until I informed him I was the wife of the guy writing the check.

I thought last year's party was great, even though it wasn't well attended. The low turnout was a result of poor scheduling, nothing more. The planner rented out this place called the Party Barn, and we had the whole spread to ourselves, including a great pool. The kids swam the whole time we were there, except for when we fished them out to eat. There was barbecue and horseshoes and ice cream and a moon bounce and little train. I had a blast, as did everyone who attended. Unfortunately, only about 50 people were there, instead of the 150 who were invited.

This year, however, the party was well planned, well attended and a huge success. It was on a river boat on Lake Austin. The weather was perfect, the food was good, the scenery was beautiful. Everyone seemed to have a really great time.

The best part for me, though, was seeing how much the Gardner Group has grown in the past ten years. When B and I got married, he and his dad were starting from scratch, doing cold calls and working the up-desk on weekends hoping for new clients. Now they have their own office and about 20 agents working for them. They were number one in Austin on one of the Austin Business Journal lists for real estate last year, when they only had about eight agents working for them. It's fun being in their office during the work day; the phones are ringing, agents are coming and going, clients are there. It's a thriving business, and I'm very proud of B and his dad for how far they've come in a relatively short time.

The only problem is that I have a wicked case of vertigo due to a stuffed up head and last night's boat ride. I still feel like I'm on the boat, and sitting here typing is making me sea sick.

I can't write funny

After spending way too much time this past week reading blogs, I've come to a bitter realization - I can't write funny. I just can't.

I'm not saying I'm not funny, because I happen to think I am - or at the very least I'm odd. I can tell a funny story without a problem. I say funny things. My friends laugh at my stories, and I really do think they're laughing at the stories, not at me. I can tell a joke and not step over the punchline.

But I can't write funny.

I can tell a funny story about something the kids have done or said and then sit down to write it out, and it falls flat - every time.

There was a "Studio 60" show where Matt Perry's character was trying to teach Sarah Paulson's character to tell a joke, and as funny an actress as she was, she couldn't deliver the joke. That's me, but with writing.

This realization is rather disheartening, because I'm a good writer. I get paid to write. I write very well about lots of different things. And there are so many bloggers out there who aren't very good writers, but they CAN write funny. It's just not fair.

So what do I do? Do I try to become a funny writer? Do I accept my non-funnyness and focus on writing well? Do I stop reading the laugh-out-loud funny blogs? Do I throw up my hands and give up blogging in despair? I just don't know.

In the meantime, I think I'm going to take the rest of the weekend off from reading and writing blogs and give my brain a rest. Besides, I have a sock to finish knitting, and blogging takes away from my limited knitting time.

The state of our schools

Even though I left last night's PTA meeting feeling pretty good about the future of our little school, there were three bits of business that troubled me. Actually, they made me pretty angry.

First, our school's commercial-grade dishwasher has been "condemned" by the district. Apparently it was original to the school when it was built in 1950-something and has broken to the point where it cannot be repaired. So does the district install a new dishwasher? No. There is apparently some obscure ratio of students/teachers/staff that decides whether a school NEEDS a dishwasher, and our school doesn't have the right ratio. Instead, the kids eat off Styrofoam trays that release all sorts of fun chemicals and MELT when hot food is put on them. Each day the school uses enough trays to fill a dumpster and then pays $100 per day to get the dumpster emptied. Because all that is apparently better than buying a new dishwasher. So the PTA and the soon-to-be-formed environmental club are going to research the cost of a new dishwasher and the cost of hiring someone to wash the dishes and see if the PTA can donate the money to the school.

Second, the school's photocopier can't keep up with the demand. The school doesn't have the money for a second one, so the PTA is looking into leasing one for the school, at a cost of $6,000 for two years. This started a bit of a commotion at the meeting, because some man kept yammering about how he works with copiers all the time and knows how we can get one cheaper. Nevermind that the PTA has to go through the district's leasing office to get the copier. The guy wouldn't let it go until the treasurer, the divine Lisa R, asked him he'd like to make a motion to research copier leases. He said no. As is typical with those kinds of folks, when it was time to put up or shut up, he shut up. Too bad he had to annoy everyone and slow down the meeting first.

Third, the PTA donated $50 to each classroom for school supplies. It's great that the PTA did this, it really is. But I'm upset because I know that $50 doesn't even begin to cover what the teachers use in the classroom and because I know that the teachers will each still spend hundreds out of pocket to buy stuff.

All of these things made me angry because they proved yet again how low a priority our local, state and federal governments put on education. It is beyond ridiculous that the school district hasn't replaced the dishwasher in the school. Raising funds for a dishwasher should not have to fall to the PTA. It is insane that the teachers all have to line up to use a copier that overheats and shuts off at about noon every day. Their alternative is to go to a copy shop and pay for copies out of pocket. And finally, teachers who barely get paid subsistence wages should not have to be shelling out their hard-earned money for classroom supplies. That is beyond wrong.

Our country is wasting flying spaghetti monster knows how much money in so many ways - the quagmire in Iraq springs to mind as one example - but our schools go lacking for basics.

Last night's meeting was enough to get me pretty riled up. I've now volunteered to handle the e-mail newsletter, monthly print newsletter, and PTA Web site and coordinate the spring book fair. I realized that instead of shaking my fist and railing about our president and the wrongs he's committed, I can instead actually do something to make one part of my world a better place - and I'm picking our school.

Warm, with a hint of cool

That's what the weather felt like to me tonight as I walked to and from our elementary school for a PTA meeting. Warm with a hint of cool is entirely different than cool with a hint of hot, which is what happens in the spring. Right now, the warm with a hint of cool holds the promise of fall and cool evenings and even cooler mornings. It holds the hope that I might just survive my 13th summer here in Austin. I love the fall in Austin; it's my reward for making it through the intolerable summers.

The air smelled so good out as I walked home. I don't know if lots of people have recently mowed their lawns, of if some particular tree is in bloom (which could be the cause of my miserable allergies today) or what, but it just smelled so good. I finished the walk home in such a peaceful mood - at least until I walked in and saw that the dinner dishes were still on the counter. Sigh. In B's defense, he was working pretty much the whole time I was at the meeting.

The PTA meeting also helped my mood. Our nice little school is definitely in transition. The school has a pretty diverse population, with a large percentage of Hispanic and non-native English speakers. Last year the PTA sort of fell apart, for a lot of reasons, but this year's committee is really on the ball and really committed to working with the school and changing a lot of things for the better. One of the goals of the PTA is to get the minority families more involved, and I saw the beginings of it tonight. There was a pot-luck dinner at the school before the meeting, and there were families of all shapes and sizes and colors and ethnicities in attendence. It made me proud of our little school.

The meeting also had the highest member attendance it's had in years, with lots of parents who are new to the school. It's great to see so many new folks coming in to work on making the school a better place. Seeing everyone there reinforced my decision to have the kids attend the neighborhood school. Great things are ahead for Brentwood.

So I'm feeling oddly optomistic tonight, which is rare for me. Fall is coming, and things are looking up.

Sock-cess

I finished my first sock! It's a bit lumpy in places, and it's a little too small. The kitchner stitch at the toe isn't perfect, but I can see how it's supposed to look. I wore the sock last night after I finished it to keep me motivated as I cast on its twin - fraternal, not identical.

Mom called and left a message congratulating me on the sock. She informed me that I learned four new knitting skills in just one sock:

ssk - this is where you slip stitches to the right needle to knit them together. It's like a backwards combining stitch.

short row - this is what you do on the heel. Apparently it will come in handy if I ever knit other things like sweaters.

kitchner stitch - this is a general, all purpose way of joining two pieces of knitting.

casting on stitches from another piece - I can't even begin to describe what this is, but it's not the casting on you do when you start a piece.

B is so thrilled that I'm finally learning to knit socks. He's been begging for hand-knit socks for ages. He even said he'd go to the yarn shop with me to pick out the wool. Now I just need a good pattern for men's socks.