Red Wine & Sweat Pants

It’s hard to stay focused on one thing when amazing other things are right in center field. Take not getting soft and flabby, or softer and flabbier, for instance. 

 My NYE resolution is to make more time for exercise, which means eating right, as well. I eat pretty well, but it’s been easy to eat not well this past year coz every other week, it’s someone’s birthday at work or there’s a faux holiday to celebrate with delicious snacky treats in the break room which I don’t say no to, plus halloween, thanksgiving and christmas which have their own themed snacks to go right along. My willpower got hammered and then just laid down and died. So that’s what I’m trying to reverse this year. I know it’s all about routine but getting into the routine can be the tough part for me. 

To kick the year off the right way, the boys’ NYE resolution is to adventure more and whine less, 

On track with the miles

and their goal is to ride 1000 miles in 2018. Sounds like a lot but we ride quite a bit, so we just need to be consistent. A few longer rides thrown in throughout the year will help, too. Inching the 5 miler up to 8 or 10 will do no one any harm, especially me.

On the flip side of all that sense is my sensibility, wanting to dally and play, read:  eat. 

Specifically, tomorrow I’m hosting Golden Girls Monopoly hour with cheesecake and white wine, it’s nothing but win Win WIN! provided I get my slop-pay ass back into the routine the very next day. 

But then there is afternoon tea two weeks after that, and two weeks after that, and two weeks after that! 
But there is something on the horizon for me to keep it all in perspective and it’s not what you might think [self-loathing], it’s yet another opportunity to seriously hurt myself or even – you guessed it – die [of shame]. River 2 Ridge.


Its not the Warrior Dash, it’s worse! Run a mile, kayak a bunch of miles, ride 40 miles, run 8 miles. Fuck. But I’m in it to come last, not hurt myself and have a good time. Husband and a friend did it last year and while drinking red and watching the kids run around in the rain, it seemed a fun thing to sign up for. Now my friend is having second thoughts but I decided to go ahead, anyway, and sign up for the whole thing. Relay is an option and good for you, but you shouldn’t get to come through to the winner’s circle and share the limelight with people who did the whole thing if you only did it piecemeal, imo. So that’s why I couldn’t do the relay, I wouldn’t respect myself in the morning. 

So while I sit here drinking red and ordering men’s size sweat pants for myself, I dream of tomorrow, And not only the literal tomorrow where I’m consuming good food as well as good times, but the figurative, where I run and paddle and pedal as though my life depends on it. 

Good times.

What next… it’s not a question.

After a morning that didn’t go according to plan, where I may or may not have made things unnecessarily more complicated for myself, the afternoon culminated in 3.5yo pooing in the bushes, and then in the car porta-potty, stinks stinks stinks.
I was going to write about all that stuff, but it was a few weeks ago and what else is there except poo in the bushes.

Dropping The Kids off at the Pool

The first time I heard that phrase, I needed it explained to me, and now it springs to mind every time I hear the toilet flush. 5yo is very adept at bowel movements, (a formidable shitter, if you will) so adept, it’s alarming. What is more alarming is when he goes to the bathroom at the park.
He is big enough to go in a cubicle by himself, now – he can lock the door and wash his hands adequately, not go overboard with the tp and does better every day at not touching a-n-y-t-h-i-n-g while he is in there. But he takes forever at the park, so I always worry about bad guys in the bathroom, even though I have probably just been in there with 3.5yo and/or have seen other parents go in with their own needy children beforehand. I check exactly what time he goes in there – which is not easy because I have a small analog watch face, and I check it 2 or 3 times in a 5 second period because I wasn’t paying attention the first time or have already forgotten. I give him a set amount of time in my mind, and feel a bit more frantic as the end of that time creeps closer (so slow on a watch with only 2 hands), but I have to keep watching 3.5yo to see his successes on the playground (Mummy, Mummy, Muuuuuuuuuuuum!) and make sure a different bad guy doesn’t make off with my youngest whilst I’m preoccupied with the bathroom door. But I can’t not watch the bathroom, in case a bad guy comes out of it, or snatches 5.5yo as he comes out of the cinder block cesspool while my attention is elsewhere. Oh! My dilemmas are many and exaggerated.
I cannot recommend strongly enough, the convenience and peace of mind of having a travel potty in the back of the car. Disregard the stink and the annoyance of having to watch your kids take a dump in the boot of the car to ensure they don’t touch anything back there before cleaning their hands, if you can, I rest easy in the knowledge that (it’s big enough for me to use in a pinch) the only bad guys nearby are the ones being tied up in that tidy bag.