Retiring the double-jog stroller

No, I’m not hanging up my running shoes for good. But I do think that the days of throwing the girls in the jog stroller and hitting the pavement for an easy workout have sadly come to an end.

Let’s do the math here.
One double job stroller = over 20 pounds.
One solid almost 3-year old = nearly 30 pounds.
One willowy 5-year old = nearly 40 pounds.

That is nearly 100 pounds of mass that I need to push, while trying to propel my own, ahem…substantial body forward. For at least three miles. (Yes, Dad. I’m aware that the math doesn’t actually add up to 100 pounds – but believe me the difference between 90 and 100 pounds is pretty negligible when it comes down to it.)

It is kind of sad – it really was an easy way to get a workout in especially when it was too nice to be stuck on a treadmill in the gym. Plus the park is about 1.5 miles away, so I would run there, let the girls play and then run back. Everyone was happy.

Saturday, however that happiness faded just a bit.

J. was gone and it looked nice outside (about a block into our run I realized it was actually pretty darn hot and we should have left about an hour earlier) and I told the girls that we were heading to the park.

“Why aren’t you running Mommy?”
(Um, I will when I get this 100 pounds out of the driveway to the sidewalk.)
“Hey, run faster, Mommy!
“Are you going to run faster, Mama?”
“FASTER!”

It was like having two drill sergeants yelling every step of the way. And on the way back…

E: “Addie do you hear it? Clip clop, clip clop!”
“Mama! You sound just like a horsey.”

Fantastic, that is exactly what I want to hear. I sound like a horse when I run.

Needless to say, I went out for a run on Sunday, too. This time…alone.

The Week in Review

I have all kinds of things to write about today, so I’ll just do this post “Reader’s Digest-style” and hit the highlights of the week.

Emma Misses Her Daddy
We all do. But E., the clever little monkey, realized that if she says she misses her Daddy and acts very sad, she gets a little more attention and love. And she has been using it to her advantage all week long. When J. got ready to leave on Sunday night, Em had a little meltdown and was sobbing, “But I miss you already, Daddy.” Which, of course, broke J.’s heart and he was trying to console her while the car to take him to the airport was waiting out in the driveway. So after he left, I cuddled with Emma and we talked about some fun things we could do to make the time go faster this week, (and the promise of sleeping in Mommy’s bed) and soon she was happy and sleeping again.

But…every time she has been in trouble or in timeout this week, she has turned on the tears and blurted out, “I miss my Daddy!” For the first few days I gave her a reprieve, but now it is just getting ridiculous. When she has her hands over her eyes, crying, but looks through the fingers to see what kind of reaction she is getting from me…I think I’m being played a little bit.

She did win some brownie points the other night when I was putting her to sleep in my bed. She was all warm and snuggly and she put her hand to my cheek and said, “I like it when it is just us, Mommy. I really like sleeping with you, too.”

I know she doesn’t want it to be “just us” most of the time, but for that little moment it was nice.

Addie is “practically perfect in every way”
A. had her 2-year checkup yesterday and the doctor just kept exclaiming how perfect she was. She exceeds every one of her developmental milestones, she is 50-60th percentile in both height and weight, and our doctor just could not get over her vocabulary and mastery/understanding of our conversations. At one point when I was relaying her typical diet to the doctor, she asked how many fruits and veggies a day A. normally eats. And Addie pipes up, “I like broccoli. Yes!” The doctor just looked at me in complete shock. I don’t know if it was the fact that A. really does like broccoli, or that she happened to contribute so willingly and well to the conversation.

When the doctor was doing the examination, she would tell A. “Okay, now I’m going to check your ears. Is that ok?” And A. would sort of quietly nod and just tilt her ear up towards the doctor. Not a peep. I was so relieved and so proud of her. The doctor said at the end, “Simply extraordinary. I wish all of my patients were this great. She is absolutely perfect.”

I agree with her, I would only add “practically” in front of that perfect.

She was sitting on the potty today and did her “business” in the appropriate place and I told her “Great job, I’m very proud of you, Addie!” And she looks at me very seriously and says, “No poopy in my pants! No poopy in a cup or a plate, either.”

Um, did she just hear me retelling that story too many times? I had assumed that the cup was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, but did she in fact mean to do it? In a cup?

Yeah, “practically perfect” is much more fitting for her, I think.

Mommy Is Now Most Certainly Certifiably Insane
No, it is not all entirely just from this long week sans Daddy.

I have been looking for a little inspiration in the workout arena for awhile now. I’m kinda stuck in a rut. I keep thinking that I will try to run another marathon. But honestly, my knees are really, really creaky, they probably would be sorely unhappy with 25+ mile weeks again. And the amount of time and effort it requires to train for a marathon – it was hard when I was doing it without kids, I just don’t think I have it in me.

So instead? I registered for the inaugural Pasadena Triathlon. Shouldn’t require as much training, right?
Ha.HA.HA!

I told you I was  quite possibly on the slippery slope to becoming insane. I figure with all of the spin classes I do, and the occasional running, I just need to step it up a bit and add some swimming. I think I can do it. And I have until March. So send me some encouraging stories about friends and family who have completed a sprint triathlon. I am particularly interested in how you transition from the pool to the bike to the run. Should be an interesting ride, that’s for sure.

But I feel like now that you all know, I can’t back out. Right?