Smack Talk

"Come on Grizz! You sleepin' or what?"

Now I know I'm ahead of Mark on the elliptical so far. But just to make sure, I glance over at his machine and check his total strides. Just as I suspected. I'm still ahead. Next to us an older woman is doing her own elliptical workout at a very normal, sane pace.

"Whatever. Check my machine, I'm ahead of you. Hurts, doesn't it? An overweight mom of three is kicking your ass."

Now the lady next to us lets out and audible chuckle and smiles at me. Mark laughs too and proceeds to beat me like he always does. Come on, I can't hold that kind of pace for an hour. I'm an overweight mom of three, remember? But I like to smack talk.

Few weeks later...

"Hey speed racer, you don't have to power up that hill. We still have a long ride ahead of us."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize this pace was too fast for you. Seemed easy to me. Would you like me to slow down?"

Glen had nothing to say back to that, but he did make sure to drop me on water tower hill and on the flat section going back to Henderson. As he should, he's a much more experienced cyclist that me. But, I like to smack talk.

I come by it honestly. Many of my family members are also smack talkers. In fact, Mateo it seems has inherted this trait as well. Today at T-ball practice is a good example.

Mateo asked one of the boys on the team what his name was.

"Nothing!" shouted the boy.

Mateo looked confused and responded, "Nothing? Your name is nothing?"

"No. I'm just not going to tell you my name."

I sat in a lawn chair a few feet away observing this conversation while pretending to read my book. I wondered if I could smack this little brat upside his head and make it look like an accident. God, I hope he's not in my class someday. But I didn't intevene. I wanted to see how Mateo would handle it.

"Ok." Mateo said, "Well if you won't tell me your name, I'll just have to give you a name. How about Lilly?"

"Haha. Lilly is a girl's name!" said another teammate.

"Yeah. You can be Lilly. The prettiest girl in T-ball." Mateo sang out with a huge grin as the offending boy's jaw dropped.

I stared down at my book and forced myself not to laugh. Another smack talker. I'm oddly proud of him at this moment.

Stressed Out Anyone?

Unlike some people, I don't pretend to have my shit together. The truth is I'm usually chasing my tail and the majority of the time, it is my own damn fault. Take right now for instance. It's 11pm on a school night and I'm on the internet. It's really gonna suck to wake up at 6am having gone to bed at midnight. Yes, I know. Entirely my fault. Self imposed stressed.

So it's no surprise that with report cards due, I'm totally behind. The following dream is the result of said stress.

I'm teaching math. I turn my back on the class to write something on the board and when I turn around I find that the students have totally rearranged their desks. They are all sitting next to their friends and talking really loud. I become enraged and tell them to move their desks back. But they won't.

"Fine!" I shout, "I'll just do it then. Get out of the way!"

I start to move the desks back, but then I realize that the students have cleverly taken off their name tags, so I have no idea whose desk is whose. Also, I just can't get the desks to move where I want them to! All this desk moving is getting me hot, so I take off the sweater I'm wearing.

Just then, my assistant principal walks in and asks, "Where are your students?"

I look around and realize that they all left the room and I have no idea where they are. Then I look down and realize that I had nothing on underneath my sweater and I've been moving around the desks totally topless!

I told this dream to my friends Jamie. She cracked up when I got to the topless part. Guess it wasn't bad enough that my entire class turned on me and then I lost them all. I had to be naked too.

Hopefully one day I'll learn to stop shooting myself in the foot and not leave things till the last minute. Unlikely. But the thought comforts me. I could be that teacher whose report cards are done 3 weeks before they are due. I could be that super efficient, organized, fabulous, skinny mom whose mini-van floor is not covered in crushed up Goldfish crackers. Maybe, but not this week. And next week is not looking so good either :)

Things I forgot about 18 month olds

So Daniela is now 18 months old, which means she has officially gone from being a sweet, docile baby to being a wild, unruly toddler. Although she is my third child, I forgot about certain things that 18 month olds do (more like blocked it out of my memory- a coping strategy I'm sure). Here is a short list of some of her current obsessions.

1. The Bathroom. Everything in the bathroom. The toilet is number one of course. She sees it as her own personal kiddie pool. Why not put some toys in there and splash around? And then course try flushing those toys down the toilet. Daniela also likes climbing in and out of the bathtub, especially after someone has recently taken a shower, makes it more slippery. And let's not forget the toothbrushes. It's fun to put them all in your mouth and run around the house like that at full speed.

2. The climbing. Some kids walk around holding a teddy bear or blankie, Daniela prefers to drag around a kitchen chair, so she can hoist herself onto any surface too high for her to reach otherwise. We can no longer keep anything on our kitchen table, unless we hide all our chairs (which is incredibly annoying if you ever want to sit down) because Daniela will climb up there and have her way with it. Example, Mateo left a cup of water on the table the other day. As soon as she saw it, Daniela swung herself up there and yelled, "Wazz at?" She then proceeded to pour all the water out of the cup and run her hands through it. "Ohhhh!" she said, obviously pleasantly surprised, as getting wet is one of her favorite things. She then put her whole body into it and glided across the table on her belly like it was a slip and slide.

3. All things electronic. My cell phone. My laptop. The Wii. The DVD player. The DirectTV box. Anything with buttons that other people do not want her touching. She also likes to pull her chair up to ligh switches and turn them on, off, on, off, on, off...

4. The dog's food and water. The water holds the same appeal as the toilet. Splashing, slipping, sliding, getting the outfit I just put her in 5 minutes ago soaked, making as big a mess as possible. Daniela has an extensive wardrobe which she likes to make the best off. Often necesitating 3 or more outfit changes a day so she can show off all her clothing. No wonder I'm constantly doing laundry. And although she regularly refuses to eat her food, she is always up for a fist full of dog food.

5. The garbage can. Daniela loves putting things in the garbage can. So it is always wise now a days to check its contents before putting the bag at the curb. We have found, to mention a few things, toys, utensils, Mateo's shoes, and scariest of all my car key. Daniela also like to take things out of the garbage. Today she found a day old go-gurt that she tried to eat. Almost as tasty as dog food I bet.

Ahhh...and just as Nico is starting to calm down a little. Looks like the light at the end of the tunnel was the headlights of an oncoming train. No more sweet baby. Let's start counting down the days till kindergarten. Isn't that when everyone will calm down? Just agree with me, please. As Jack Nicholson famously said, I "can't handle the truth!"

The New Ride

Yes, at least I have one cool ride. Although the mini-van is very handy for transporting all my tri gear- I mean that's why I bought it right? Had nothing to do with my 3 kids :).

For those of you that know about bikes, you know exactly what I have and what an awesome upgrade it is for me. It is a Trek Madone 5.2. For those of you that don't know about bikes (you know, like me) I'll explain why it is so good. It is around 6-7 lbs ligher than my old aluminum frame one. Riding this bike up a climb reminds me of something Mateo said last summer, "A snail, it doesn't have legs, it just goes.". That's what this bike does. It just goes. It glides. I don't have to work! I just pedal and I'm up the hill. Amazing.

I know there are other awesome components to this bike that I don't understand (If you have questions, you can ask Mark or Glen. I'm sure they would be happy to elaborate). But for now, I'm in awe of its lighness and awesomeness. Bring on the triathlons!

I will leave you with a picture of how my house looked when I came back from one of my rides (photo at the top- can't seen to figure out how to get it to post at the bottom and not worth the effort). That's chocolate pudding all over Daniela's face. And Nico appears to be surfing the internet. Max is very supportive of my cycling, if not the best housekeeper :).

The Crash

"You will crash." I've been total this a couple times since I've started riding. "It is inevitable if you ride a lot. Everyone does it at some point." When I first started riding, I was down right petrified of falling. And seeing as I could barely stop properly or clip in my shoes without toppling over, I had every right to be. However, over the past year, I've gotten more confident and less paranoid about falling. Maybe it doesn't have to happen me...

So this Sunday, we had just finished climbing and Mark was having me pound the flats. Mark and Glen have been my unofficial cycling coaches since I started this mid-life crisis triathlon mania. And can't thank them enough. I've definately come a long way on the bike and Sunday was no exception. I could tell I was riding the best I ever have on that trail.

We were on a the River Mountain Trail Loop, which is a road bike trail, but it also has it's fair share of pedestrians in certain parts. It's not unsafe to get going pretty fast on the trail, as we are unsually the only ones on it. But of course, we always slow way down when we see a pedestrain and call out to let them know we are coming.

So that's how it was. I was going about 30mph and there was not a soul in sight and Mark was right behind me telling me I could catch up with the rest of the group, push a harder gear... Then I see this guy on a skateboard. He's off the trail. I'm not sure what he's doing. Then suddenly he jumps on the trail, not facing me, in my lane of traffic. This is not good. I yell out "On your left!", start to brake, and pass him on the left. Please, just stay where you and everything will be fine. But I'm going really fast, and this guy is oblivious. I could see the ipod headphones in his ears. Then he jumps on his skateboard and slides into the left lane. OH SH*T!!!! I've got nowhere to go. I'm off the trail. I'm in the rocks. He's still moving to the left. I'm going to hit him. BAM! I feel myself slam into him. We're flying through in the air together. I'm gonna hit the ground soon. This is gonna suck. I'm really gonna get hurt. BOOM! Thud. Ugh. I felt my body hit the ground, then my head. I jumped up. And...I was fine. Oh my God. I'm alive. I'm ok. I walked over to the skateboarder who had landed just a few feet away. "Are you ok?" I asked him.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Dude I'm so sorry. Are you ok?"

"Yeah. I'm fine too. Wow, are you sure you're ok? Are you hurting anywhere?" He showed me his hand which had a small cut, and one of his knees was a little scraped up. But other than that, he was indeed fine, and walking around. I apologized that I didn't have any wipes or bandages to help clean up his cuts. I think after this, I'm gonna start carrying some on my bike.

By this time, Mark had gotten over to us. He seemed just about as shocked as we both were. And kept asking over and over again if we were ok. After we established again that we were, miraclously, unharmed. I looked over at my bike. It looked ok. But the handlebars were bent up and one of the shifters had been torn clear off. "Can I ride it back to the car?" I asked Mark.

"Yeah. I think you should be fine. But it's definately a little busted up."

Better the bike than me. So the skateboarder and I parted ways after asking each other one last time if the other was ok and marveling at how incredibly lucky we both were. He started walking back to the neighborhood next to the trail, and Mark and I started riding down the trail back to the car which was only a couple miles away.

"Man, I just can't believe that crash! On a scale of 1-10, that was like an 11. I was scared to go back and see you. I thought you were gonna be torn up. And what the hell was that jackwagon doing riding his skateboard in the middle of the trail with those damn things in his ears? That just pisses me off. "

"It's ok. I'm fine. He's fine. That fact alone is amazing. I'm not mad. I'm just happy to be in one piece. This is the luckiest day of my life, honestly."

"Man! I just can't get over that crash. It was so high speed. You just plowed into him like a football player. You threw him into the air like chair at a picnic. (I had to laugh-what a great simile.) And then you just jumped up like it was nothing. You are tough."

"Yeah, too bad I didn't have a helmet camera on. I could have sold the footage to Jackass. And I'm not tough, just lucky. Very, very, lucky."

And I am lucky. When I got home, all I could find were a bunch of bruises on my right arm and leg. All in all, a miracle. No road rash, no broken bones, still had all my teeth intact. And the skateboarder. He wasn't even wearing a helmet. When I think of all the things that could have happened... Good God, we were fortunate.

So now I've gotten the inevitable crash out of the way. Hey, I've always done things in a big way. Hopefully, that will be my last time. Or at least my last time crashing at 25 mph.

Just One More Hill?

As you all know, I'm going into my 2nd year of doing triathlons. It all started innocently enough. I had just had my last baby and faced the depressig task that all new mother do of losing the baby weight, which for me, unfortunately was quite a lot. Blame what you will, genentics, water retension, eating 4 peanut butter and jelly sandwiches everyday between meals...but the fact remained that I was fat again. So I decided that maybe a little exercise would move things along. So I found an article in a Weight Watchers magazine that outlined a 12 week program to take you from walking to running a 5K. Decided to give it a shot, and then it all snowballed from there.

So here we are a year later. And I'm trying to decide what my athletic goals are for the year. By far, my worst area in triathlon is cycling. Mainly because I have no idea what I'm doing. But I don't like to let minor details like that stop me. As my Uncle Jim always said, "If you don't know the words, just sing louder.". It's kind of a family moto so to speak. Those of you who know me, know that this behavior is indeed genetic. So 2011, cycling it is!

I've been very luck to have Glen's cycling buddies let a clueless beginner like me tag along. They've been exceptionally nice and have not made fun of me too much. One of the guys, Mark, has even started riding with me for parts of the ride and schooling me on various things I probably should know like cadence and gear changing.

Today, we did a 60 mile ride. Let me just tell you that the moral of today's story is that ignorance is bliss because had I know what this ride would entail, I would not never have agreed to such a thing. It started out easy enough with some rolling hills. Then came the climbs. I spun up the 1st two pretty good and was feeling somewhat impressed with myself. Yeah, I'm getting better! But then came more climbs, and more climbs, and more climbs, and...I was getting weary, not to mention pissed off. When exactly was this going to end? Ok. I've had my Rocky moment. Duh, dunt, duuh...Duh, dunt, duuh. Now this road needed to get flat. Becasue I was done with hills.

But apparently the hills were not done with me. In the middle of this torture, Mark notices I'm fading and rides up next to me. "Come on girl, you got this! Big effort. This is the last hill." Really! Really! Okay, okay, yeah right, I got this. So pick up my cadence and do my best to power up it. Only to find...another hill. Grrrr.

Here comes Mark again, " Ok, last one."

"Really? I thought I already did the last one?"

"No, this is it. The last one." What choice do have but to believe him? So I pick up my cadence again and get up the hill. But...you guessed it. It WASN'T the last hill. @#%$!!!!

Now I'm breathing hard and getting mad. I'm giving Mark one word answers as he continues to talk about the infamous "last hill".

"Please stop lying." I say through clenched teeth.

"I'm not lying"

"Yes, you are! You keep saying one more hill and it's not."

"No I didn't. I said one more hill and then a long slow climb."

"Uhuh. And then some more hills after that."

He offered me some encouraging words and then let me finish battling up the hills on my own. Cursing the day I ever decided to try triathlon. The day I decided to focus on cycling. Why did I tell people to push me? I'm challenged enough as it is. This is not a sport for an overweight mom. I should be scapbooking or ordering baby gadgets online or whatever it is normal women my age do.

But then we finally hit the down hill back to the car. And it occurs to me. I just rode 60 miles. I just rode 60 miles! Not bad for an overweight mom of 3. And much cooler than scapbooking (no offense to those of you who scapbook I hear it can be quite the skill to master). Looks like I'll be back out here again. 2011 is, after all, the year of the bike according to my calendar.

The Sh*t My Kids Fight About

First of all, my sincere apologies to all my readers (even if there are only like 3 of you). I've been very very bad about updating this blog. In fact it would be accurate to say that I've been down right neglectful. Sorry if I have caused anyone with abandonment issue grief. I did not leave you. I do intend to still write.

My excuse is that time is hard to come by since going back to work. And when I do find myself with some time, I usually spend it doing something incredibly thrilling like doing laundry, doing dishes, or swiftering my kitchen floor for the upteenth time. (And, yes, "swiftering" is now a verb- although I'm not sure if it has made it into the dictionary yet).

You see, I was not living in reality this past summer. Between the months of June and August, I was a stay-at-home mom that got paid. But at the end of August, I faced the truth. I actually have to work for this money. It doesn't just fall from the sky into my bank account. Sucks, I know. So here I am, frantic once again, trying to do everything I did when I stayed home and work.

But, I digress. Onward to the topic of this post. Sh*t my kids fight about (Do you like how I put that little * in there instead of the i? Now it's rated PG).

So I've started trying to get the boys to do more chores. I have faith that the DAY is coming. The DAY I am talking about when my kids can actually be a help rather than a hinderance to household cleaning. The DAY is when they will be able to run laundry, fold clothes, clean bathrooms, clean the kitchen, vacuum, etc all by themselves. My God, I'm getting giddy just thinking about it. Imagine...

But they're not there yet. Having them "help" is usually a bigger pain in the a$$ than just doing it myself still. But, instead of giving the man a fish I want to put in the extra effort and teach him how to fish. Maybe if I really work on teaching them a few basics the DAY will come sooner.

So today, they helped me pick up Honey's caca in the backyard. Honey is our dog and caca (for those of you who are not hispanic) is dog sh*t. Mateo voluteered to hold the bag, but I had seniority and said that was my job. He and Nico were the scoopers. I held the bag and supervised. It started out good. Since I hadn't done this in a while, there was an abundance of caca to be found and scooped. They were quite excited the first few minutes.

"Hey, look at that huge piece!" I said. Both boys lunged at it, but Nico was the first to scoop it up. Mateo burst into tears.

"NICO! That was mine! I wanted to scoop up that big caca!" wailed Mateo.

"There's lots of caca in this yard. I bet we'll find a bigger piece." I said, "Let's look over by the fence. That's Honey's favorite place to go caca." Isn't it gross that I know this?

Mateo and Nico sprinted over to the fence like two athletes fighting for 1st place.

"Wow! Look at all this caca, Mateo!" said Nico with delight.

"Yeah, but it's all little small pieces." sighed Mateo in defeat. No big caca. What a let down.

So we kept cleaning up dog sh*t for another ten minutes or so.

"Mommy, I'm getting tired. This job is really stinky." moaned Mateo. Nico's interest, meanwhile, was as intent as ever. He getting very mad if I did not acknowledge and praise him for every piece of sh*t he put in the bag.

"Ok, that's enough. We got most of it. Let go was our hands." I said.

"But, mommy, look! There's still caca." said Nico " We have to pick it up!"

"We'll get it next time, ok? I promise you can come pick up caca with me again soon."

Ah yes, some parents promise to take their kids to the park or Chuck E. Cheese as a treat. But so few consider picking up dog sh*t together as way to spend quality time. Nico, at least, looks forward to doing it again. And I look forward to the DAY that they can do this fun activity all by themselves while I sit on the couch and watch TV (will that ever happen again?...oh well, different topic)