tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91999462483075912182024-03-13T22:10:53.347-05:00 Joy's Life and TimesJoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14014274125968401399noreply@blogger.comBlogger399125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199946248307591218.post-79349216130335714982019-08-18T18:20:00.000-05:002019-08-18T18:20:21.628-05:00Birth DayWe were on the Kaanapali coast of Maui last October, dodging the waves of the Pacific and searching for creatures in the tidepools, when Hunter said, "How about Coral?" Everything lava and ocean had been on our minds all week, but this conversation was about what we would name our new little baby girl. She was only about 14 weeks along in there at the time, but being a "geriatric" pregnant mom, no one batted an eye about my request for a blood test to determine, most importantly to me, whether she was a boy or girl. We had just found out which. I had no names that I was tied to yet, so the kids kept calling her Baby Coral, and so it stuck.<br />
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Fast forwarding about 5 months through the fatigue and nausea that defines my pregnancies, I could feel that this baby was bigger than the others at the same age. Being a VBAC patient, I might fudge don'ttellmydoctor my dates so that I lower my risk of being induced, but even knowing that, her April 5th/1st due date was pushing it. I felt like she would be early, especially given that Jeremy was scheduled to be on call the last week of March, and on call is what he was for the birth of both older kids.<br />
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On March 13, we celebrated Hunter's 7th birthday! Oh how times flies. The following weekend was busy with maternity photos scheduled, our annual trek to the daffodil fields, and some work at our new land. My running had been on the pitiful side for most of my pregnancy, but I was actually enjoying my walks-with-a-bit-of-jogging, doing an hour-ish on most days of the week; otherwise I rode my trainer while ignoring my power meter. Saturday I got my walk in early so we could do some pictures then go to dinner...at the restaurant we went to for my last meal before delivering Josie...<br />
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At just shy of 38 weeks, if you're being lenient, early on Sunday morning of St. Patrick's Day, I was up in the middle of the night, and as usual while pregnant, unable to quickly go back to sleep. I was tossing about, not getting comfortable, and I didn't want to wake my bed buddy, Josie, so I was lying across the bottom of the bed. Having juuuuust started to doze off, I was startled by a thump. Surely, I thought, that was not my water breaking, but just one of those dreams that seems truly real. I lay really still for a while, in denial, until finally I decided to check to see if... yes, my water broke a little. I got back in bed thinking this is too early, still not believing it was real. A contraction made me notice it, and then another. I thought I better check the clock at this point, and when I realized I was having contractions 5 minutes apart, I knew something was going on. It was 3:38 am.<br />
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Jeremy had his alarm set for 4, and when he woke up, I quickly stopped him from getting up and told him he couldn't go out to work at our new land, I just *might* be in labor, and if not, well, I was really tired from not sleeping much. His mom was scheduled to move to the plot in two days, and he had a few things to get finished up before then. I wasn't convinced that contractions this far apart (they started closer with Josie) were anything to get excited over, but I went to get a few things packed while he called his mom, who lived 7 hours away. Around 5, I decided to actually time my contractions to see if this was "for real," and found that it was, indeed.<br />
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Next on the agenda was texting my doula, Cora. She didn't answer within the minute, and I started worrying she wouldn't hear her phone, it being Sunday morning at 5am. Then she called with the news that she had just finished with a delivery at the same hospital, and she would be there with everything ready! Jenny and Tim got the next text, but I ended up calling Tim when they didn't respond. We needed someone to be able to come stay at our house with the older kids, or they would be drug to the hospital with us. I still have my last minute packing list that includes "kids clothes." No time for apostrophes! Luckily I got in touch with Tim; he was coming up and waking Jenny, our designated birth photographer. Somehow I managed to get enough stuff together and talk to enough people through my contractions, as my mom can testify to, and we left for the hospital around 5:45.<br />
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Apparently we were arriving at the hospital around 5:59 when Jeremy sneakily took my picture as we pulled into the parking garage. But honestly, I wouldn't have noticed if he had told me anyway, with my contractions being pretty close together by then. Cora was waiting with a wheelchair right at the entrance to the skywalk, apparently remembering Josie's birth, where it took me hours (so it seemed) to make it 5 feet down that corridor. She whisked me over to L and D, where the front desk stopped Jeremy so he could fill out paperwork as Cora told them to not keep him long; this baby was coming soon. At this point it was finally becoming more clear to me that I was not going to be in labor for many more hours, and as Cora said, I would get to meet my baby in just a few minutes. "A few minutes" seemed to be a huge exaggeration to me at the time, but doulas know labor.<br />
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My room was ready when I got there, and it seemed nurses were all over the place. Immediately I got my clothing situated and up onto the bed, where my dilation was checked. At "8-9 centimeters," I was momentarily disappointed, thinking I'd be complete, or almost, just as my first check had been with Josie. Cora told me to do what I felt I needed to do, which meant to push if I felt like I could. Some of the details are fuzzy already, since that is why women will go through this more than once a lifetime, but I remember Cora telling me to listen to what Dr. Hutch was saying. He was the laborist at the hospital at the time, and I had heard great things about him. However, I couldn't see him, since I was on hands and knees, and I hadn't tuned into his voice until then or even known he was there. He coached me along, letting me know when the best time to push would be and when to hold off, all the while standing back, very casually observing. Jeremy was standing nearby, as was Cora, but otherwise I was oblivious to my surroundings. I pushed, decided I couldn't do it, realized I had no choice, pushed some more, chomped down and bent a wire on my braces (so much for all the Hypnobirthing techniques I studied), pulled an intercostal muscle (that still hurts 5 months later), heard a little sound from the baby, and then she was born! I rolled over and was immediately handed my precious and perfect Coral Ethelyn June.<br />
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I held my sweet Coral while her cord was cut by Jeremy, she started nursing, and I recounted how HARD that had been, since of course I had forgotten so much since Josie's birth. "I felt like I was pushing the entire time we were at the hospital until she was born!" I told Jeremy, "It seemed much longer than with Josie!" Only then did I realize that I WAS pushing almost the whole time we were at the hospital, since we got there around 6 and she was born at 6:20. Next I looked around the room for my "birth photographer," Jenny, who hadn't quiiiiite made it in time. She got there about 15 minutes too late, but given the early hour, we couldn't blame her. The kids at home had slept until after their sister was born, so they woke to the surprise and excitement that she was here early.<br />
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My great aunt Ethelyn, one of my favorite people of all time, always told us not to name a poor baby after her (when we threatened it). Having delivered loads of babies in her house-call-making days as a general practice doctor, there are more than a few named after her already, but none in the family. I think she would be tickled to have this sweet baby as her namesake.<br />
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We sure love her so! <br />
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Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14438762320360480096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199946248307591218.post-88747717447797782432018-12-27T17:17:00.002-06:002018-12-27T17:17:43.726-06:00And Another Year Went BySince I have claimed this little space on the internet, I might as well
put it to use and keep writing. My poor kids will have no documentation
of their existence for the last 16 months, if you don't count
Instagram, Facebook, thousands of regular old pictures, and any scraps
of paper on which they have expressed their artistic abilities, which I
have stored away for later perusal.<br />
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As long as I am not documenting any triathlon-related experiences of my own these days, I might as well turn to my much more active family for stories. My little kids are quickly becoming big kids, if they do say so themselves, and in comparison to the new baby we will welcome in early spring, they will be mature and loud and giant. We chose the path of homeschooling for this year, which does not come naturally to me, to put it mildly, even though I had dreams of becoming a teacher when I was a little girl.<br />
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I am hoping to document a bit more of life on here, using it as my personal diary and record as I have in the past, with a small idea of returning to some sort of more-athletic shape than I have been in for some time now. Isn't that what New Year's hopes and dreams are made of?<br />
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Happy 2019! Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14438762320360480096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199946248307591218.post-25103513230587942042017-08-01T19:27:00.001-05:002017-08-01T19:27:38.471-05:00The summer of no triathlonIt's not too late for me to change my mind, which I am inclined to do now and then. But I have mostly decided that the 20 year streak will end this year with zero triathlons completed. I can run, I can ride my bike, and I'm assuming I can still swim, but the desire to go out and just complete a slow race still eludes me. It isn't the end of the tri career, but I am not going to go out and putter through just to say I did it.<br />
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The summer is going too quickly anyway. We spend a lot of time swimming. Again, Hunter has taught us that if we just leave him alone, he will figure things out. Like swimming. And math, and all kinds of random things that keep me asking, "where did you learn that?" It just goes to show you don't have to "potty train" or take "swimming lessons." Along the lines of some of my significant life choices, if you just let things be, they can usually work themselves out.<br />
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A lot of the past month has been traveling; we went back to New Mexico, Santa Fe in particular, for the first time since moving to LR. The air was so clear, crisp, and thin. Over 7000' of elevation, to which I am completely not acclimated anymore. The friends were just like I last left them: wonderful, entertaining, and fun. The scenery and hiking were gorgeous, and the latter was a bit different than when we used to run alone, just Jeremy and me. But much more exciting.<br />
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In mid-July we set sail on a Disney cruise to the Bahamas, which was an exciting, beautiful, activity-filled trip that didn't stop when we disembarked. We went on to the Magic Kingdom for a couple of days to finish tiring us out completely.<br />
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It was all kind of perfect for us, and I hope it filled the little ones with lots of great memories of adventur<span style="color: #0000ee;">e.</span><br />
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I
did do a 5K at Castaway Cay. It consisted of half an hour of staging, a
half mile walk to the start with the group, half a dozen people
sprinting off the start line, and about 3 men beating my 8 minute mile
pace. I had no one around, little motivation, and plenty of humidity.
Glad I did it.</div>
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Now
here we are in August, starting to think about the upcoming school
year. This time, I'm actually excited about the school year. We are
doing things a little differently than most for the start of
Kindergarten. And I think it'll be perfect for Hunter. To be
continued...</div>
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Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14438762320360480096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199946248307591218.post-50704028282198598932017-05-30T12:32:00.005-05:002017-05-30T12:32:43.226-05:00Summer StartI am just going to dive right in and pretend it has not been over two months since I last posted. So let's see, I wanted to keep a good record of all things hip labrum repair and my incredible return to running faster than ever. That is a post for a later time, like when it has actually happened. My back got all painful again after the nerve regrew, and instead of cutting it off once more, I opted for PT, then more PT, with a much closer and different set of eyes. He is encouraging me to "hinge forward!" as he often calls out across the therapy floor when I'm looking a bit too sway-backed (which is apparently all of the time). Does this mean that I don't actually have a giant booty, but I just stick it too far out? Hmmm.<br />
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Apparently I am a structural nightmare. My facet joints are all inflamed from being crunched together, but at the same time there is too much movement in the lumbar spine. I have mild dysplasia in my right hip, but also an impingement if I extend it back too far, which is what happens when I try to tuck my hips and run. The newest PT is now accusing my right leg of being longer, but he said I don't have scoliosis because I'm strong. I know, I almost laughed when he called me that too, and then I realized that most of his patients are probably senior citizens, so relatively, yeah. It does make more sense that the less exercise I do, the more things hurt. I have spent the last 5 years getting weaker, slower, more lordotic, and older. The PT also said I have taken good care of myself, of which I had recently been thinking the opposite. My aunt used to tell me to slow down, even before I fully comprehended the ill effects of my chosen sport (long distance specifically). Thanks #science.<br />
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My goal, since it is now unofficially SUMMER!! is to start extending my piddly little trainer rides to longer than 40 minutes and maaaaybe do some outdoor rides, you know, like a bike is made to do. Running will begin again, or uh, has begun again actually, if you can call it running.<br />
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Something about the trails between Watercolor and Seaside down on the
Emerald Coast make it completely impossible to not run. Darn little
scenic houses with white picket fences lining the smooth, sandy,
pine-needled trail, and the wooden bridges over the dark <strike>alligator-infested</strike>
lily-pad covered lakes force me to run. And not just once, but two days
in a row. Luckily Jeremy was busy racing Gulf Coast and I didn't get a
chance to go more when we were down there two weeks ago.<br />
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I'm sure we will be getting plenty of travel and swimming in this summer for my little fish.<br />
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That water! </div>
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No, I promise they were actually thrilled to be there! :)</div>
Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14438762320360480096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199946248307591218.post-23670770820713291922017-03-13T20:11:00.002-05:002017-03-13T20:11:51.451-05:00GrowingI think it would surprise anyone who has seen the (very low) frequency of my posting here to know that I have been keeping a daily paper workout log for over a decade now. Maybe more like two decades. I am missing one important year in which a newfangled online training log was all I kept, and once I quit, it was erased. So how did I manage that best performance in Kona? I'll never remember, although it was truly short of outstanding anyway. I have skipped a few weeks here and there, for a week or so after Hunter and Josie were born before I returned to walking, or those 3 weeks of non-weight-bearing after hip surgery. I have gone from detailing the workout, how I felt, how many pounds of sweat I lost, the temperature, and who my company was, using two pages per week, to squeezing in two months on those same two pages, line by line.<br />
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These past two weeks I should just be skipping as well, although I can write "PT" in on certain days. After my ablated nerves decided to regrow so that they could finally get their pain signal back to my brain, like the doctor said was likely, I realized that I could go right back to the pain clinic or I could try to do something to restructure everything that's out of whack. This is a big job for my lucky physical therapist. He came so highly recommended that I drive half an hour each way before sunrise twice a week to have him tell me to stop picking up things like children, bending, sitting too long, riding my trainer and running, rolling my quads in a plank position, and most any chores around the house (sorry husband!). If I could just stop weight bearing, everything would heal a little faster. Problem is, I can't call in sick, nor can I stay off my feet. I'm winning to be on my feet without holding both kids at once.<br />
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Oh OK, I'll climb the tree with you.</div>
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If I'd had any plans to take my new age group by storm this year, now that I am officially a master's athlete, I could forget them now. Luckily I had no big aspirations to kill. I knew it was a long road back from all these structural defects, but I didn't plan on having to take up an entirely new sport, something a little more leisurely, quite yet. I can hear my mitochondria dying off. But at least my hunger has subsided. I cannot justify a daily half pint of Milk 'N' Cookies ice cream when I am instructed to sit on my rumpus all day. But then again, I do have milk to make for the baby... Justified! <br />
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While watching myself age, very up close when plucking gray hairs and using extra strength wrinkle cream, I also get to watch the little ones grow like weeds. (After looking at smooth young baby faces all day long, does anyone else kind of surprise themselves when they look in the mirror? No, just me?)<br />
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My big one is 5 today! And he is turning into my little sidekick. Our latest adventures, besides sword fighting, climbing things, and getting dirty, include painting. Every once in a while I get on artsy kicks and whip out the old acrylics and canvases. Hunter has been showing me up and creating some quality abstracts. I'm too shy about mine to actually post them, so here is the real artist's work.<br />
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He named the first one Forest of the World.<br />
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He also cooks, decorates his own birthday cake, and builds incredibly complex lego jets much better than I do. My little dude is quite the imaginative, perceptive, determined boy. And still a favorite around here.<br />
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Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14438762320360480096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199946248307591218.post-57382703664482731062016-12-04T19:39:00.000-06:002016-12-05T08:19:57.772-06:00UndertrainingI'm so busy you guys! Just kidding, I don't purposefully use that excuse because isn't everyone?<br>
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I actually steer clear of the writing of the blog posts due to my defense mechanism: avoidance. It mostly reminds me of my injuries, lost abilities, and things I only wish I could write about.<br>
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There are dozens of great kid pictures<br>
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to post for the grandparents to check out, many stories of the little ones buried in my brain crevices to write down. Kids are so cute and funny! And time consuming? Yes. But cute and funny first.<br>
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Consuming the majority of my limited computer time these days is USA Triathlon and its biennial recertification requirements. I don't need to do all that much, but I do manage to cram it all into the last few weeks of alternate years. Of course since this is the area I have chosen to study in my free time since grad school, I enjoy learning more, but time is at a premium. The main thing I have gotten from my study so far is this: keep your elbows high under water. Just do it. (Credit: Sheila Taormina's book, <i>Call the Suit. </i>Totally worthwhile read.)<br>
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As far as my pitiful undertraining efforts are going, I was much less optimistic just a few weeks ago. I am having more hip pain, or back pain; who knows? because it is all quite continuous these days. After a couple of nerve blocks plus some steroids, I went in for a really wonderful nap in the anesthesiologist's office, but they woke me up to ask where I felt the tingling. It was in my hamstrings and glutes at the time, which I surprisingly remember. He singed a few nerves back there from L3-S1 and sent me home to wait 3 weeks to feel better. It took 3 weeks to feel much difference, but I *think* it is slightly less painful after 4.<br>
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My three sticks in the back. No wonder the spinal erector muscles were sore. They got a good needling. <br>
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After several weeks of 2x3 mile runs, then a 4 or 5 miler thrown in here and there, I went out and ran a flat 6 miles. Limping the next day from pain in the groin and hip flexors made me take off 2 weeks from running and get addicted to a new show while on the trainer: Dexter. Why did nobody tell me to watch this before? I can pretend I like riding the trainer now.<br>
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I'm turning 40 in a couple months and I don't see any PRs in the future. I'd get into some other sport, like weight lifting, but I really can't squat to parallel without my hip popping and eventually pestering me. I learned this by picking up toys endlessly one day. I suppose I could swim with my newfound technique, but it can be so hard to get into water when it's cold!</div>
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I haven't quite convinced myself that I'll never get back into racing or being at least closer to my former speed, but I am slowly accepting that few people actually get it back after this surgery. More than once I have been told that I am just getting older and this is what happens to older bodies. And some days I may lose a little more motivation because of that, even though I know 39 is not too old to be fast. Why couldn't I have been one of the moms who have this amazing postpartum fitness? But enough crying in my soup. I can still do a lot of things. Like hike with my big kid.<br>
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Since it has been no less than 2 months since my last post, we go from the beach to Christmas. In between I spectated at Ironman Louisville and watched my three amazing athletes Ironman very successfully. It was such a motivating day, it almost made me sign up. So I put Jeremy on it, and he's racing Chattanooga next year. Living vicariously again.<br>
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Thanksgiving was full of family and sisters who love me. Actually we just seemed to always pose as though I was either dying or
worthy of congratulations, so of course we made fun of ourselves. <br>
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We had an extra little furry being in the house, but this one sat contentedly in laps while squeaking a cute little tune and driving the cats insane. Meet Princess Brownie Julia. Now we apparently need a guinea pig.<br>
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<img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiznhYJYfl4DLCGtCKOPjSKsn8xbU_ZV8Rk5vE9OkTg6iXhrhf6XOBdgLUnbg7V8fxIWCVO9jpVZPYctWKwbtfdiJixXWLPhV0iwq0LFIztFfJSzoGraYnJYSKK2qcLVqMxNFuXZqeRauGH/s400/blogger-image-1517835574.jpg" width="300"> </div>
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We still love you most, Bear. For your patience, foremost. </div>
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Thanksgiving week turned out to be beautiful. For as much as I do not like fall and it's rainy, cold, impending winter self, we do have a pretty nice view from our upstairs back deck that I have appreciated more than usual this year (since it has been unusually warm). <br>
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And this little one has LOVED being outside regardless of weather conditions. </div>
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Now onto Christmas season we go. Hunter is our master decorator this year, having arranged the hickory nuts on the hutch with the greenery, <br>
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and single-handedly placing every ornament on this tree by himself. I don't want to brag, but y'all, he is good! He got a tall bar chair out and climbed right up to work.<br>
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He even made ornaments himself. I love the crayon filler. It's so him. And me. Crafting out of craft supplies.<br>
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The cats and baby have been loving the tree. And I love this picture for Josie's face, which shows that she is not being overly gentle with bear (squeeeeeezing him no doubt), and I also love it for the blue painter's tape, which is obviously holding the paper snowflake ornament on the tree.</div>
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A big Merry Christmas to all! </div>
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Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14438762320360480096noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199946248307591218.post-65266751263984767002016-09-29T20:28:00.000-05:002016-09-29T20:28:01.981-05:00The Single 2016 Race ReportHow it became the end of September without so much as a photo posted from our August trip to Seaside, I don't know. The beach was hot, sunny, and beautiful, the house perfectly located, and the company incredible. We dug, ran, swam, splashed, jumped, ate, lounged, played, and relaxed.<br />
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After arriving home and getting back into
all-things-school again, Hunter decided it really was not for him, and
it got more difficult (for me) every day. The turning point came when I
was squatting by his classroom door consoling and trying to convince him
to go in, balancing on my toes and nursing a hungry baby, and being
interrupted by the assistant principal who asked if she could help take
him in his classroom. Um, no? I was a little confused until I realized
that she did not want me nursing there. She was lucky my mind was
attending to more important things and that her boss called to apologize
to me later. We are back to full-time unschooling, without the
curriculum. Except not by my choice. We have never let anyone cry it out
around here, and beginning school was not the time to break that rule.
So. Not much time for mommy to get training plans and blog writing done.
Then there's that pesky housework and cooking gig, which I honestly
don't mind so much.<br />
<br />
Last we talked, I had been to the
pain clinic with all the other senior citizens to see what could be done
with my back. After our vacay I went in for a little steroid injection
in the L5-S1 facet joint. It was guided by x-ray, and I have a great
picture of just how awful it looks compared to the left side; it
garnered comments from the anesthesiologist about how we knew this was
indeed the right spot. The numbing meds injected just prior to the
steroid took my pain completely away immediately, to my great relief.
Too bad the steroid didn't completely take care of it long term...<br />
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Since
I had so much less pain, I had been riding 45 minutes on the trainer
like 4 days a week, swimming twice a month, AND I ran 2 miles in 15 mins
(no, really!) one day, I decided that I should partake in the local
sprint triathlon. This was the only race I did last year, and the last
race I did 2 years ago. It has been warm enough that of course no
wetsuits were allowed, so without my life-saving neoprene, I decided to
start very wide with the first timers. I panic especially bad when
people whack me in the head, and avoiding them surely saved me a few
attacks. Still, I can barely swim to save my life. It is hard to believe
that these actual same arms have swum decent Ironmans (even though once
I got a "wow, you have so much room for improvement in the swim!" after
an especially good race) and lived to bear weight on aerobars for many
hours after. My Garmin somehow measured my swim at about 200 yards
instead of 500, so it tells me my 100 yard rate is over 4 minutes, which
makes me feel soooo much better about myself.<br />
<br />
After
the longest 500 yards ever, I stood up all woozy, started to run, then
remembered I better save my hip impact for the actual run, and walked up
to T1. When you race once a year, you forget how to put on a helmet and
lap your Garmin, so T1 took a while. And mounting a bike with a hip
that doesn't really go that direction? I hadn't practiced that. For the
15 mile bike ride, I tested out a position I hadn't seen since April:
aero. It didn't hurt at the time, but my hip and back told me all about
it later. I rode with my powertap for the first time ever, and hmmmm. At
least it was a distraction from my speed, which, thanks to Strava, I
know was a bit slower than previous years. To my relief? dispair? my
front tire was completely flat once I got home and started unpacking
the car. When did that happen? Maybe I <i>can </i>go faster...<br />
<br />
Then
I got to the run. My plan was to enjoy it all, since I didn't expect to
be able to complete this distance a few months ago, much less run it
all. But I started slowly, with heavy legs, achy hips, and tall grass to
run through. Drew gave me the gap on 2nd place as I started, and I
figured there was no way I would be catching any girls. First place was
waaaay ahead after the turnaround, and 2nd was wearing running shorts, a
tank top, and a headband, which could only mean one thing: relay.
Shannon was next behind me, and after some math I realized I should be
able to keep her there, though she did make me speed up a bit. I
negative split the run and managed a 7:50something pace, despite my hip
and back now yelling at me.<br />
<br />
I finished a distant 2nd
female, at a speed-- in all 3 disciplines-- slower than my old Ironman
pace. But who's counting? (not me. ok, me.)<br />
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Truly,
I had a great time. My body hurt and I have taken many many doses of
ibuprofen since then, and I am working on scheduling a rhizotomy on the
sensory nerve to my dumb facet joint. I would be lying if I said I
wasn't a bit sad about how unlike my old self I felt, but hopefully the
master's category next year will treat me well.<br />
<br />
But
happy 10 years to my good ole Quintana Roo, and happy 20 years of
triathlon to me! It has been my thing for more than half my life, and I
wouldn't change that fact, even for a healthy set of joints.<br />
<br />
I'm now going to focus on my three coaching clients who have Ironman Louisville in 10 days! Eek! I'm excited.#livingvicariously <br />
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<br />Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14438762320360480096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199946248307591218.post-79869403265400723552016-08-21T19:42:00.001-05:002016-08-21T19:42:33.053-05:00Tackling the BackI'm usually the type of procrastinator who puts off decisions and actions in hopes that things will sort themselves out while I let my fickle brain mull it all over. It is so unlike me to take a drastic action like voluntarily having hip surgery. You know that I had to rely on Jeremy to urge me on, reminding me that torn up hips do not sort themselves out. The short story to the present day brings us to my being glad he did, happy with the surgery results, and even beginning to run again.<br />
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The longer version has not yet ended, and the back pain I've had since Hunter was a rapidly expanding infant wrapped to me via lumbar spine, was not directly related to my hip's torn off labrum. I was hopeful all was fixed in the weeks following surgery, when my back, while sitting in a wheelchair most of the day, wasn't causing me many problems. But now, oh now! I have such sympathy for people in chronic pain. I never realized that everything hurts worse -- a toy truck to the shin, a small child running across your stomach-- when you have a constant pain elsewhere. </div>
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I was on a roll after taking charge of the hip pain, and having met my insurance deductible for the year helped me speed myself up. Back I went to my original sports med doc, who ordered an MRI on my lumbar spine, then sent me to a pain specialist at the Spine Institute. After finally meeting with him, I am super optimistic about my prognosis. No, really! He thinks that a steroid injection into my right L5/S1 facet area will decrease the inflammation enough to take the pain away, since the findings included facet arthropathy with fluid on the right side (where the center of the pain is located) and some neural foraminal narrowing on both sides. Apparently I have extra large facets. I win! Er... There is a disc bulge with a small tear and protrusion, but he does not think that is causing my problems. I have some additional facet arthropathy and a mild disc bulge at L4-5, but, I mean, who doesn't? If the steroid does not do the trick, we can just do a little rhizotomy back there. Nobody really needs sensory input like this anyway.<br />
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Getting this injection had to be put off until after we vacation next week, since last Friday wouldn't work: it was Hunter's first day EVER at school! He was excited before, a bit nervous during, and not completely opposed to going back. So that's a win at our house.<br />
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Oh, did I mention that I can run? Why yes I did. When he heard the news, Hunter exclaimed, "What?! You can run now?" My ortho doc released me to walk 10 minutes, run 10 minutes, and walk another 10 minutes three times a week, conceding that 10 minutes surely did not seem like much. To me, it's huge! The muscles in my legs had certainly forgotten how to run, and it seemed like a very foreign movement that was followed with some delayed onset muscular soreness the next day. Running isn't without pain, since I feel twinges randomly with every step, which could be attributed to my hip, weak muscles, back bulges, or tactile hallucinations-- who knows really. But still, I have quadrupled my 2016 run mileage with my 6 one-mile runs. I will surely never sit criss-cross-applesauce again, and please don't ask me to do a sit and reach test. But I do look forward to my putters around the nearby flat church parking lot.<br />
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And at least some of us get to run around <strike>like</strike> with puppies when they come to play. Do we need one of our own? <br />
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Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14438762320360480096noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199946248307591218.post-10917590233363067432016-08-08T12:49:00.005-05:002016-08-08T12:49:57.458-05:00The vintage hutchThis strays a bit from my original blog theme of all-things-triathlon, my later all-things-baby, and lately all-things-labrum-repair-surgery. Hmmm, now I'm seeing <i>randomness </i>as the unintentional theme. Alas.<br />
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From Ethelyn's house, the family took ownership of furniture according to what each person loved most, what fit in our houses, what was most meaningful, and what we could find a use for. I have so many treasures. Some, like the magnets that greeted me on her fridge, holding dozens of photos in place, are almost as memorable as the smell of lavender soap in her drawers. Others I had seen a hundred times in her closed in garage storage room, but never put much thought into or asked of their history. Like this hutch, below. <br />
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It's beautiful, seven feet long, and extremely heavy. You should have seen how much directing I had to do for the four people getting in the house. For having spent
at least 60 years in a garage, it is in excellent condition. Obviously
there is some chipped paint, newer spray paint in white and green on the front, and a
broken door. But the beadboard, perfectly wavy glass, and adjustable
shelves! <br />
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I need some information from an antiquer, or just someone who knows more than I could find out from my mom's cousin. He said that in his earliest years, it spent time inside, in Ethelyn's bedroom maybe. Mom doesn't remember it ever being in there. Maybe it came with the 130+ year-old house when my great-grandmother and great-grandfather bought it around 1905.<br />
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It has few pieces of metal holding it together, and just one detailed lock. One caster wheel was attached to the bottom, of which the double wheel was wood.<br />
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I am sure it is a custom piece, and definitely painted with lead-based paint at some point. But not all of it. They got tired before finishing the last foot. I have been cleaning and sealing with polycrylic so that when, not if, my children lick it, we don't need to call poison control. <br />
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I am excited to finish cleaning and sealing it, and get to filling it! With something other than babies. </div>
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Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14438762320360480096noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199946248307591218.post-57955359442714434322016-07-22T19:38:00.001-05:002016-07-22T19:38:15.220-05:00One Year Old Life<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Being a one-year-old is pretty cool, y'all. You cover yourself in paint and chill in front of the fan while soaking up the rays. Your spend your days with friends, swingin', swimmin', and having three celebrations of your birthday. </div>
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Cake! Have some. </div>
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You got me <i>what?</i></div>
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Mommy is this icing colored with...beets? </div>
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Well it is delicious!</div>
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Whew, that was exhausting. </div>
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Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14438762320360480096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199946248307591218.post-16502006424017785422016-06-27T12:51:00.001-05:002016-06-27T12:51:12.323-05:00Suntan lines and chigger bites<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Oh how I love summertime and all of its sweltering heat, sun shining so bright it makes the bottom of my feet melt off when I step on the hot deck. Not worrying about clothing the children when we go outside, naked swimming on the secluded upstairs deck's baby pool has been just the thing to wash off chiggers before they work themselves into the most private of crevices. Apparently my youngest has the darkest skin so far, since she tans just walking to the car, as evidenced by those lines made noticeable when we strip down for garage fingerpainting followed by a run through the sprinklers, at just the perfect time, as the next door neighbors host an open house. Or maybe she just tans because I forget to sunscreen everybody but myself when going out to pick blackberries or the garden vegetables leftover after the critters have had breakfast.<br />
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We have enjoyed having a string of visitors stay at our house this summer, either while passing through on the way to new cities, coming for a weekend visit, or catching up around a conference, and a surprise visit from Damie and Isla one evening was such a fun time. Family has come recently and the cousins are here now, and we are about to celebrate the first year of our sweet Josie baby! I'm thankful to have that baby help me keep things clean around here.<br />
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Summer has, for the past 20 years, been the season of training, and I'm thankful to have had that. The difficult recovery from the reattachment of my hip labrum is something nobody wants to hear about, but if you are interested in the effects of dry needling and foam rolling, talk to me. I'm focusing all my triathlon energy on writing the schedules of athletes who get to run and race and be fast.<br />
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Ethelyn was always telling me to slow down, and now is the time to sit back, lounge by the pool, eat snowcones, and enjoy the slowness of summer.<br />
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Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14438762320360480096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199946248307591218.post-41657732218905501492016-05-16T19:23:00.002-05:002016-05-17T08:14:25.644-05:00May Days<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
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In the last 4.5 weeks I've gone from a wheeling whiz, maneuvering master of the big chair, to crutching champ, and now to hobbling hipster. I've learned of all the tight spaces in the house, the worst of which is the hall to the kids' room, which helped me hone my reverse wheeling skills. Around the kitchen island is a one-way route. If you pass what you need, you gotta go around again ("Look kids! Big Ben, Parliament...")<br>
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I've garnered sympathy from my sweet family (I think), as well as gym enthusiasts who hold those heavy doors for me, Target patrons who were warned by a loud beep of my backing-up (and bumping around) presence, food truck festival goers who helped with food handling, and brunch eaters, who steered clear of my toe-smushing crutches. </div>
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In other big news, I shaved (most of) my legs. My number one goal of walking before Josie has just barely been accomplished, and she actually looks at me again after weeks of being Fed. Up. Hunter is probably the most surprisingly helpful. He likes having a job to do.<br>
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The hair. I'm loving the baby girl hair.</div>
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I heard her gritting her teeth and realized that one can only grit teeth when they have uppers and lowers! That's how I discovered the one top tooth. 5 total!</div>
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I love him but, ug! Hands off the neck, big brother.</div>
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One of the THREE food truck festivals of the last month. </div>
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Another food truck festival. It's a way to avoid cooking. </div>
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"Mommy, let me tell you something" is followed by loud whispers! I love it. </div>
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The cousins used an entire bottle of dish soap and the hose to create the MOST exciting trampoline jumping experience possible. And they were really dirty before. So, win, win. </div>
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Silas, I think you're going to be my best friend, so let me show you my shutter closing trick. </div>
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I just think she's beautiful. :) </div>
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Happy to be sitting in <strike>the brace's</strike> Mommy's lap? No, she just wants Daddy. Poor brace.</div>
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After Mother's Day brunch. Before food poisoning kicked in. Did I mention that? </div>
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Sweet Hunter. He picks me any flower of my choice from the yard. </div>
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Headed to the latest food truck festival, burning some calories before. I drove my handicapped self. </div>
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Musical girl just wants to play the piano and dance. </div>
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She also wants to learn all about the ipad. She has the button pushing down.</div>
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My Target just needs some wine. And cart cupholders. </div>
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<br>Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14438762320360480096noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199946248307591218.post-50431171700790052592016-04-21T11:40:00.001-05:002016-04-22T08:57:30.307-05:00On the recovery sideI am finally through the nervousness, preparation, anxiety, and actual surgery! My right hip's labrum had a large bucket handle tear which was fixed with 4 anchors into the acetabulum. No bone was shaved, yay! <div><br></div><div>One week ago was the day I remember very little of, since of course I slept most of it away. Mom came the night before and drove me to UAMS at 5am to get my clothes changed into a fashionable gown with complementary compression socks. <div><br></div><div>The lighting, the gown! It's all so flattering!<div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrWB2BUqm54weguiChTVsCfQkSbvOkrpeCjL0XGu3K8QQlZP4CKQhcBGPvClie61UmYPi7PH3FB5QGAOa_tiQnZUl1pldZOtEl7Ak8goHLKFc5iKouYk7XHiAX3n2q8x33Um92EVe_kjfA/s640/blogger-image-1324042354.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrWB2BUqm54weguiChTVsCfQkSbvOkrpeCjL0XGu3K8QQlZP4CKQhcBGPvClie61UmYPi7PH3FB5QGAOa_tiQnZUl1pldZOtEl7Ak8goHLKFc5iKouYk7XHiAX3n2q8x33Um92EVe_kjfA/s640/blogger-image-1324042354.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>I pumped some milk, walked to the bathroom, got my leg signed by Dr. Sachleben, asked the anesthesiologist to keep me alive, and then was wheeled away. In the OR, they got to work quickly with my anesthesia taking me to dreamland before I knew it was coming. It may have been the prior dose of Versed that took all my awareness away, but the last thing I remember was a med student being instructed on how to hold my "oxygen" mask and me being told to take deep breaths. Apparently I was stretched into a position like this to dislocate my hip during surgery, which I can only assume accounts for some of the post op stiffness: </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqZ9HJIFsFiQGPMzZlfdKrtWOg6MMSQAivG9GV5ZXJkfe3Z63VUr66DLBzaGy7JLLSAeOJVIwTvLrWEIOomW_xAK4f6yqZ7Hr7FpBHSnqjPKMAQFfufyj94PaUbPJJVonhhhD42PWUd-BO/s640/blogger-image--1932936802.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqZ9HJIFsFiQGPMzZlfdKrtWOg6MMSQAivG9GV5ZXJkfe3Z63VUr66DLBzaGy7JLLSAeOJVIwTvLrWEIOomW_xAK4f6yqZ7Hr7FpBHSnqjPKMAQFfufyj94PaUbPJJVonhhhD42PWUd-BO/s640/blogger-image--1932936802.jpg"></a></div><br></div><br></div><div>I awoke to a nurse talking to me and I told him my back was really hurting. It seems like he gave me a pillow for it before he gave me pain meds. Who knows which of those actually took the pain away? ;) Somehow Mom and I got a dress on over my giant brace and ice pack, put my shoes on, and suddenly I was in the car with Mom asking me questions in my very drowsy state, like, "How do we get home from here?" It wasn't a trick question, and I had a hard time coherently answering, but I think she was trying to keep me awake so she knew I was conscious. Don't ask me about the rest of the day or night. Or Friday, for that matter. </div></div><div><br></div><div>Saturday Mom left and Jeremy's mom and aunt arrived just a bit later. I spent the next two days lying on the couch in my CPM while the three other adults took care of everything else. And I do mean everything. I'm responsible for letting them know what I need that may not be obvious, like an escort to the low low toilet seat. And that's it. Since Monday, Jeremy has been back at work and Mammo and Nanny have no idea how invaluable they have been to me. Josie mostly wants to ride around in my lap in the wheelchair, and Nanny has been driving us a good bit, even getting Josie to sleep that way. </div><div><br></div><div>She is seatbelted in with a Maya sling. </div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4yLsgfk8LlIpzxXMFXTEQqvLq6AuBkgYu1sdzmLYUkHoFpRJS84Jvdq8Edtc8g43eV-IcrHvH2RJ-3vTgGkQBLEmpYIj5Yr5YyptEGnWgx_BFue3TxiCM-HWbRg8yV0ym63c6a_AvA7rI/s640/blogger-image-1670155401.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font color="#000000"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4yLsgfk8LlIpzxXMFXTEQqvLq6AuBkgYu1sdzmLYUkHoFpRJS84Jvdq8Edtc8g43eV-IcrHvH2RJ-3vTgGkQBLEmpYIj5Yr5YyptEGnWgx_BFue3TxiCM-HWbRg8yV0ym63c6a_AvA7rI/s640/blogger-image-1670155401.jpg"></font></a></div><div><br></div><div>She gets frustrated at me for not carrying her around and playing on the floor with her. And Hunter has been affected too, although he is taking it very well. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5nj-pvw4Uu-wD1s6-vvSn3d24niXaFEueaJvCL5RHPUIrt25H4hYlnAhvL8CgHPhXU467IlPBK_jrINkr_3_v0GjA27BHIFNa1Lcokwro3-H0ERk_rclDkfVNS7E1QccYP0SwrHbSHfO5/s640/blogger-image--939323675.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5nj-pvw4Uu-wD1s6-vvSn3d24niXaFEueaJvCL5RHPUIrt25H4hYlnAhvL8CgHPhXU467IlPBK_jrINkr_3_v0GjA27BHIFNa1Lcokwro3-H0ERk_rclDkfVNS7E1QccYP0SwrHbSHfO5/s640/blogger-image--939323675.jpg"></a></div></div><div><br></div><div>And he is helping out with Josie, even when she's not that into it :)</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCV6exN-2NDSUnCHr3jo9dzRrPDxMl3NVwmq36OF3cZYexw8HkmGWJmK6A2pmKI271mCv-yLyAthYUTl8T3FcbCTLyPskHWenqakv8Bc9ItrbL9u6ofw-8-edgijJcUZWKy_CZqIPwXzH4/s640/blogger-image--1069915931.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCV6exN-2NDSUnCHr3jo9dzRrPDxMl3NVwmq36OF3cZYexw8HkmGWJmK6A2pmKI271mCv-yLyAthYUTl8T3FcbCTLyPskHWenqakv8Bc9ItrbL9u6ofw-8-edgijJcUZWKy_CZqIPwXzH4/s640/blogger-image--1069915931.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">But usually she's having a blast. This is <i>exactly </i>what she wanted to do!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-GAQ9VobTMs4hyphenhypheniH1DhQ-Q88TMwChvtS-LBNEK-_1vaahBOQfcvGlFmqwngY6_xNKVhS2MBW39vm6n_-SzfZ3uVFhBZ6J8VK1tKk0GzVdgXr1LRKape7_PUsFxacQh9Gcen_jkh7okyD_/s640/blogger-image--1809842279.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-GAQ9VobTMs4hyphenhypheniH1DhQ-Q88TMwChvtS-LBNEK-_1vaahBOQfcvGlFmqwngY6_xNKVhS2MBW39vm6n_-SzfZ3uVFhBZ6J8VK1tKk0GzVdgXr1LRKape7_PUsFxacQh9Gcen_jkh7okyD_/s640/blogger-image--1809842279.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Wednesday was my first PT session, and I do believe I have found a PT who is worth paying upfront and filing my insurance myself. She's cautious, knowledgable, and makes me very comfortable. I was a bit sore from those <i>strenuous </i>heel slides we did a hundred million of yesterday. But in a good way. </div><div><br></div><div>I'm feeling mostly good, able to get in bed on my own, and even got my underwear and shorts on by myself today, though it took a good 20 minutes. The bandage came off to reveal more blood than I'd expected and three tiny incisions neatly sutured. Also a rash where I left the thick waterproof bandage on a bit too long. Oops. </div><div><br></div><div>I can't imagine what I'd do without this caring husband and family I have around me. They have done <i>everything</i>. Well, except they also may be trying to kill me with all the plastic eggs, toy trucks, random blankets, and Legos scattered around on the floor, making me crutch through obstacle courses. </div><div><br></div><div>I keep on healing, and the days fly by as we wheel around, watch Hunter, take selfies. But that could be the meds talking. </div><div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLi0uQZ5rTD41UHHJ-gTQqDsZlFzaUX3X8D4swkKTZ-I28LkSP5oKfgdrFVdTCmstn2d4E1lyyRWPtqfry5nLoePG9lUC2lklnK4lADVuyWhpgq_d7QSLz58tnXwpUVbxAT8rvypRySJXK/s640/blogger-image-2007040651.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLi0uQZ5rTD41UHHJ-gTQqDsZlFzaUX3X8D4swkKTZ-I28LkSP5oKfgdrFVdTCmstn2d4E1lyyRWPtqfry5nLoePG9lUC2lklnK4lADVuyWhpgq_d7QSLz58tnXwpUVbxAT8rvypRySJXK/s640/blogger-image-2007040651.jpg"></a></div></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div></div></div>Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14438762320360480096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199946248307591218.post-5989036327302344812016-04-10T13:19:00.001-05:002016-04-10T13:19:07.081-05:00Projects<div>
'Tis the season of projects around the Harwood house. You might think one of those projects is spring cleaning, but it is not. We have plenty going on without dealing with those unnecessary boring details. </div>
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The best project: my little engineer's Lego truck creation</div>
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First up is my physical being. With surgery scheduled for Thursday, we met with the surgeon this week, and I asked about some of his post-op protocols. The good news is that my time on crutches has shrunk to just three weeks. The less-than-good news is that my limit of hip flexion for those weeks also went down, from an expected 90 degrees to 70. This means my trainer set-up (with no resistance) might not work. I will have a brace and a CPM, which is what the latest evidence supports. I already feel better about his protocols, since it seems to align with that of the top hip docs in the country, as opposed to the original surgeon's. No psoas will be cut/released/lengthened in this leg either. If my labrum is in terrible shape, he will be reconstructing it, which I can't be sure would have happened with the first planned surgery. There is a very small bump on my femoral head to be shaved, but overall, it seems pretty simple, right? When we ran into my referring doc in the hallway, he basically told me, "Don't screw up the recovery!" It seems easy to do too much.<br />
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To get ready for this, I have been riding my bike for fun, and for a Strava QOM, outside when I can. I have slacked a little on my leg strength training, since it seems to aggravate an already irritable hip and lower back. But I need to get back on the <i>good </i>leg strengthening (since it will be <i>only </i>leg for a while), along with some pre-hab glute work. </div>
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Nutrition is on the table for a reworking in the near future. I keep threatening that I won't allow sugar in the house post-op, so I tend to eat all the Ben & Jerry's now while it is here. And before Hunter finds it. He has an eye for delicious ice cream. </div>
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The second project is the yard and garden. Jeremy has once again done some upgrades to the garden by adding a framed chicken wire fence along the low borders, in attempt to keep the rabbits out. Seems to be working, and I'm really liking how it looks.<br />
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<span style="color: black;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBrZSkqIVNsCxkgoFW68lqr5sTH5ryBZZIzxA-rwDTqn2W5jIx_ObIdDag-dul0FWM37hki8fhJpG0J1Q7Fw866DrkAnCrRkerjnNgP-jYBVfX6p6ofLATsvvEbzhHPcUOwykONgKHU6t9/s640/blogger-image--1295837370.jpg" /></span></div>
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We have planted several tomatoes, zucchini, okra, a New Mexico chile, eggplant, potatoes, cucumbers, cantaloupe, raspberries, blueberries, and watermelon so far.</div>
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A few new bushes are going in the ground around the house also; we will call them "rescues," as they were abandoned in varying degrees of dryness, around the neighborhood. From Ethelyn's house, we transplanted a flowering quince, and a few daffodils and lilies, and I am currently failing at rooting some hydrangeas, fig, aucuba, forsythia, and Japanese magnolia. Her tiny dogwoods Mom brought last fall have leaves though! I feel like I am terrible at landscape design. Our house was new when we moved in and only landscaped in the front yard. We have added plants here and there, and I worry that that's exactly how it looks: disorganized. I'm sure it'll eventually come together and be a flowering oasis, like Mom's or Ethelyn's yards. </div>
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columbine from Mom</div>
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Inside the house, as always, I have a few projects for my handy husband. I don't want him getting bored. Just last night he cut off the legs of our dining table, since it predates me to when super tall people sat around it. It was counter height, and now it is normal-person-table height. Next to be included in the shortening are the chairs. Then he is building me a bench, since we always need extra seating.<br />
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My latest big plan is in the stairwell. It's kind of closed in and totally boring (except when you pull the railing off the wall--that's exciting), and I have tried to fill it with pictures. It just wasn't working for me. So we have the supplies needed to make a little transformation of one of the walls. I'm super excited!</div>
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I always have art projects in my head just waiting to be put on canvas. Actually finding a time when little fingers won't be helping is the difficulty. Not that I don't want those little fingers helping, because I love their art, but because too much would be going straight into a little mouth these days. Just like where all my pansies seem to be going. </div>
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Some of my ideas involve items from Ethelyn's house. And I just need to get around to doing them. Lately all my free time has been spent on triathlete training plans, which I really enjoy. And those who can't do? Coach. :) The blog has fallen to such a low spot on my list that it gets a few words here and there when I have a sleeping baby tucked by my side and don't want to move to wake her. Like now. </div>
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Next week when I'm laid up, medicated, and immobile, I'll surely have time to post a quick update. </div>
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Now for what you've all been waiting for: pictures.<br />
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baby selfies</div>
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What is this marvelous material?!</div>
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She's electric</div>
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Relaxed</div>
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Snack time. Together</div>
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Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14438762320360480096noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199946248307591218.post-12914575315692540182016-03-23T19:29:00.000-05:002016-03-24T09:55:15.980-05:00Spring FeverRight around March 13, which was not only Hunter's birthday, but also the beginning of Daylight Savings Time this year, spring fever hit me. We celebrated having our sweet Hunter 4 years with a party, cake, balloons, and lots of trucks. He requested a similar cake to last year's, but with a racecar track to give me a new challenge. I'll warn you of all the pictures I'm about to post.<br>
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Next up: flowers. The daffodils on Wye mountain are becoming another annual late-March tradition, but they bloomed early this year. We went just after DST during the week when it was cool and sunny and as beautiful as ever.<br>
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I had a bit of a nesting-like frenzy come over me for the couple of weeks leading up to my scheduled surgery. Planting the garden was top on my list, since I knew there wouldn't be any bending past 90 degrees for a while, which makes yard work a bit difficult. We got a few things done, but then I went back to my first sports medicine doctor who originally thought I had a labrum tear. He was worried about my orthopedic surgeon potentially cutting my psoas, since someone with any dysplasia would have a bad outcome from compromising that muscle which provides needed stability. Then he mentioned the name of a surgeon in town who he believes to be really good at this particular surgery, who happened to also be someone Jeremy went to medical school with. Had it been any other random surgeon in town that I had or had not heard of, I would have gone ahead with the schedule. But hearing his name made me stop and reconsider, and ultimately we cancelled surgery with the original surgeon and are planning to schedule with the new one as soon as we can. Hopefully this won't push it back too many weeks, and I will be at least weight bearing by the time the neighborhood pool opens. I'm remembering the important things here.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The new surgeon took a quick look at my MRI arthrogram and said that my labrum looks pretty chewed up, and there is a section which is hypertrophic, most likely due to my slight dysplasia. Like the first doc said, I have probably had a tear in it for a while; most athletic women my age do, but most tears don't cause pain. I probably made it worse over time, especially in this last pregnancy when everything hurt so much. The signs of calcification around my pubic symphysis in the X-ray may tell me why my pelvis hurt so badly as well. </div>
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Hunter keeps referencing time based on whether I will have had my surgery yet. It's really cute, and he is even dreaming about it. He told me his dream a few nights ago: "You had already had your surgery and you drove your wheelchair into a huge hole where there were dinosaurs but Milky (the cat) was with you and the dinosaurs were scared of him so they ran away." It is a big spring for all of us.</div>
<br>Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14438762320360480096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199946248307591218.post-56276319241029295002016-02-23T19:30:00.001-06:002016-02-23T19:30:28.046-06:00Sewing and shaving and cuttingThere are finally some answers to my hip pain. Not the best answers, but answers nonetheless, as well as some direction for putting me back together. I was hoping for something like a pelvic stress fracture, since that is relatively simple to fix. Instead it is what I figured: a labrum tear. It took an MRI with an arthrogram to finally diagnose it, the scheduling of which was a test of my patience in itself. The surgeon's waiting room proved to be another. Sweet Josie came with me, slept only 15 minutes of the 2 hours and 20 minutes of waiting time, and charmed all the other patients in the meantime. <br />
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A new example of my extreme mind control was the near syncope I experienced after they stuck that 3 foot long needle into my joint for the arthrogram. I can only imagine how quickly I would've blacked out if I had actually looked at the needle or the piercing of my skin with it. They told me too much about it as it was.<br />
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Anyway, surgery is scheduled for the end of March to repair my labrum, shave the cam, which causes the impingement, from my femur, and possibly do a psoas tendon release. However, since I am such an expert in the field (said with plenty of sarcasm), I am really hesitant about this cutting of an essential muscle's tendon. In my limited research, I have found that people who have the tendency toward borderline dysplasia, such as myself, tend to NEED that tight tendon to keep everything where it should be. In my next appointment (I almost cried when the woman told me I had to come back) I plan to dissuade the doctor from cutting any tendons.<br />
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The whole post-op recovery done from the bed, wheelchair, walker, crutches, or rolling plant stand, as the case may be, is much scarier to me than going under general anesthesia again or having someone messing around inside a crucial joint while that joint is completely distracted. I will have a 4-year-old and an 8-month-old by then, and it usually takes all of my limbs to care for them on a daily basis. The pain medication may have me not worrying about it as much, but I can't start that until <i>after </i>surgery.<br />
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But as Josie seems to say, let's get this show on the road, and start recovering. We may be learning to walk at the same time in a few weeks. <br />
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<br />Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14438762320360480096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199946248307591218.post-3785059481448014292016-01-14T19:57:00.000-06:002016-01-15T15:20:37.915-06:00The OuttakesI just deleted the Strava widget from my sidebar. It was only reminding me of how long I've gone without running, and who needs to keep track of that? Actually I ran less than two weeks ago while we were out of town. There are only so many body-weight exercises you can do to burn off your grandfather-in-law's incredibly rich and delicious fudge. The only stretch of relatively dog-free road I know of in Holland, Kentucky puts me just under 3/4 mi away from my starting point when it is time to turn around due to the yippy black and white terrier who warns the real guard dogs of my approach. So back and forth I ran on that stretch, warming up for a mile, running "fast" for a mile, cooling down for the final one. My hip hurt for days after, but at that point I hadn't started the exercises my new physical therapist gave me. I finally found someone who could really test my weaknesses and work with me to make a plan of action. I am not feeling particularly optimistic that I won't need surgery anyway, but at least I can get things more aligned. Hunter suggested that for my birthday I ask for "a new hip." <br>
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I suppose I could post all my massive bike mileage. Just kidding, it's only 45-60 minutes a day, most days of the week, on the trainer, which comes to exactly zero miles that I have actually moved. There were some actual yards that I swam in the actual pool this weekend, which were slow enough to have made a lifeguard jump in to rescue me, if only there had been one on duty. All this catching up is to say, I'm not withholding any closet training, I'm just boring and do the same thing every day. There is no training to speak of, just exercise for my sanity.<br>
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To get past this lack of sharing that has been going on lately, I thought I'd overshare for a bit about the other hours of my life. Pictures posted and things shared, at least from most people, tend to be of the airbrushed variety, but of course there is a lot of behind-the-scenes action. And that's the real fun part.<br>
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For example, I have a lot more of these sorts of shots... <br>
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<img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnKNWAn-RI5zbfCsV5UvyaY2k7ZuRWnrNgk7PE9usSgMHecwFhBuPgFG3IrIxRQ04r8Z15At3jr4J_w6rYvJ3D-RWMuNkp_-0kq7TZBTp9jRCy-DvOzgGHO_TLrZBrVC3kFDyySvG3gAL3/s400/December+2015+451b.jpg" width="400"> </div>
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But that was so worth it. These two!!</div>
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But really, these last 3 years and 10 months have been challenging. Adventurous and challenging. Have you ever heard of the book <i>The Spirited Child</i>? Or Dr. Sears's description of the high needs child, and his book that may have the word "difficult" in its title? I love how both of these child experts focus on the best qualities of these determined, intelligent, spunky children <strike>named Hunter</strike> who need a little more than other kids-- attention, focus, participation, patience, and everything else except sleep. Of course it's sleep he can go without, for the one mom who needs much more than average.</div>
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It is kind of eye opening to have Josie around. She likes being put down (except since it has taken me a month to write this in 30-second increments, this is not so true anymore), she laughs a lot, she enjoys sitting in her jumper seat. I told somebody that before Josie I couldn't imagine a baby could be easier than Hunter, and realized that came out exactly opposite of what I meant. I meant that I thought all babies needed a life-altering amount of attention. When Hunter was a baby, Jeremy and I laughed about those hypothetical babies that "like sitting in swings" and "have fun playing on play mats." My velcro baby literally needed constant contact to sleep. He wanted to nurse at least once an hour, day or night. He never went more than 4 hours without waking up until he was 3 <i>years </i>old. We were so, so tired. </div>
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<br></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We are still pretty tired. Thankfully my wonderful husband sleeps next to the baby at night so that I don't jump up at every sound. Apparently she is a sleep-talker just like her mom. This means he comes to get me every few hours when Josie needs to nurse. Every couple of nights he has to wake me up twice to get me out of bed once. And several times I have looked at him and said, "What?? Why are you waking me up?" At least I don't think I have two babies like I did in my early sleep deprived state with Hunter. </div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br></div>
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I can count on one hand how many times Jeremy and I have left Hunter with someone else, and then only for a couple of hours, except for the night of Josie's birth. Some people would urge me to let him "cry it out" or to just drop him at daycare to let him adjust. I have never felt that learned helplessness is a productive state of mind for little people trying to figure out the world. It's exhausting to spend so much time and effort, but after my developmental psychology classes in college, my gut would never have me do it another way. </div>
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Finally admitting I needed help right around the time Josie was born, we hired a cleaning lady to come twice a month. I couldn't for the life of me figure out how people who work outside of the house managed to keep cleaner houses than I do, since I should have more time to do it. Then I realized that I actually run a 24-hour-a-day (non-profit) daycare at my house, and I spend time playing (teaching? coaching? working on my patience?) rather than cleaning. That, in the long run, is more productive anyway -- raising these sweet babies. And working on my own self, being calmer, more patient, nicer, would be a full-time job anyway. </div>
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When I realized that I am one of the only moms of a preschooler who does not send him off to "school" a few times a week, I got dressed up in my Lulu yoga pants, remembered to brush my teeth, and interviewed a nanny. I have to admit to myself that I need time to do things on my own. Like go to the dentist (see above). Or maybe use the bathroom by myself.</div>
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<div><br></div>I never want to wish away moments of their childhoods, so I try to keep in mind just how fast they grow. I adore the baby and toddler stages of these little lives and hope that I can keep remembering to soak it in. <div><br></div><div>One of my favorite quotes is from Ruth Hulbert Hamilton, and I believe either my mom or grandmother had this written somewhere when I was little. It's a good excuse to keep a few cobwebs around. ;)<br>
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<br></div>Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14438762320360480096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199946248307591218.post-40997107219128952772015-12-22T16:33:00.001-06:002015-12-22T16:33:32.790-06:00Wonderful Time of the Year<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Instead of snow, we have been having warm, sunny days, but that makes this time of year all the better to me. Have I mentioned I love warmth? I do hope for some snow this year for Hunter's sake, and I trust we will have at least a little. The daylight hours are getting longer starting today, and even though we have not partaken in much outdoor activity this afternoon, I appreciate the sun streaming into my house and brightening around the twinkling Christmas tree and mantel lights. </div>
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This time of year with little ones is so much fun, dutifully dressing them in red and taking them to see Santa. We happened upon him one afternoon after visiting Heifer and their animals downtown, so we of course popped in to get a picture. There was no way Hunter was sitting on some strange heavily bearded man's lap, so I did. He told me to. He was older than Christmas, and he kept asking Hunter questions that went completely unacknowledged, bu<span style="color: #0000ee;"><span style="color: black;">t that</span> </span>beard that Josie tried to grab was 100% real.<br />
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Getting a picture for our Christmas card was another event that went really really well. Hunter did agreeably help me test out the lighting, and I caught some great faces in the process. </div>
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And then somewhere along the way we had a meltdown ("we" being an accurate pronoun here). But those sweet faces! I love all the pictures.<br />
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Cookie baking has taken place more than once, since we are all sugar-addicted these days. There may even be a roll of dough sitting in the fridge now. I used to make the dough myself, and then I just realized that no, I'm not going to that trouble anymore when pillsbury does such an excellent, cheap, and delicious job of it. </div>
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This Josie baby would love more than anything to get her hands on some of that dough, or any food, or any object set in front of her, really. She does a lightening speed quick swipe these days, with those great reflexes and high motivation. I'm surprised more things aren't eaten and broken in our house, especially when she rides facing forward in the Ergo. She also loves to get those sticky little hands into her big brother's hair, all tangled and intertwined. He doesn't mind too much, and can actually act very sweet and loving to her in between swinging her too fast in the jumper seat, spinning her in the <strike>staycation</strike> exersaucer, <strike>kissing</strike> licking her fat cheeks, and tickling her just a touch too hard. It really is hard to resist those cheeks, so I don't blame him. </div>
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Don't be fooled. He's licking her.<br />
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Who wouldn't adore this little guy back? He's a feisty little thing, or make that, feisty, big, strong, quickly growing thing, addicted to the latest: <i>The Axel Show</i>. I should have him do pushups while watching or something. But he needs his chill time too. <br />
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And this look on Josie's face, just for Hunter. That shows the adoration right there. Her very favorite person!</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: red;"><i>Merry Christmas and Happy 2016!</i></span></span></div>
<br />Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14438762320360480096noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199946248307591218.post-51512159041722186432015-11-19T19:33:00.004-06:002015-11-20T14:09:17.135-06:00Since October<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
I'm terrible at keeping up. Never knowing what day of the week it is anymore, I surely cannot tell you the date. The weeks are flying by with Jeremy at his new clinic, working 5 days a week instead of having Wednesdays off. But we are so thankful for this opportunity. The office is literally just over a mile away; I used to run right by it. </div>
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I <i>used </i>to run right by it. I haven't run in over a month now, and the pain still comes and goes in my hip. The trainer is where the workouts are happening, and it is the exact same thing each day: 45 minutes when Daddy is home from work. The weekends are when the real action happens and I get to go outside to ride or get in the pool. I can still swim.</div>
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To catch up from October, I have dropped a bunch of pictures here; first there is Halloween, since the cutest pumpkin and "Bruder Man" went trick-or-treating with us. When we asked Hunter what he wanted to be for Halloween, it was a quick decision. If you don't have any Bruder trucks, you might not know that the Bruder Man drives all these trucks, and that is code for <i>contruction worker</i>. This is the first year that trick-or-treating has been an attractive option to the smallish one, so we set out before pitch dark with his tool box in hand for collecting the goods. Hunter silently went about holding his toolbox toward the neighbors after they answered the door, as I was behind him saying "trick or treat!" and "happy Halloween!" A couple of times he just stood there still holding the box after getting his loot, and they gave him more! What a revelation! Mommy ate a bit too much of his candy, but I just <i>cannot</i> <i>resist</i> while nursing all the time. I'm so hungry!</div>
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Josie loooooved the whole Halloween event. She has become our little family extrovert. The rest of us will just let her do all the talking in the future. She wants to go places and do things and meet people. And after all the excitement, she became the tiredest little pumpkin. </div>
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And then November happened. Everyone is so excited about fall and cool weather and I'm not sure what else, but I'm over here thankful to have unseasonably warm weather so we can still play outside with short sleeves on. Listen all you fall lovers, you are not allowed to complain about rain and cloudy skies because that defines fall! Around here at least. Thankfully, we are prepared for winter, because Hunter keeps asking when it will snow, I don't do much outdoor exercise these days, and Josie is still at the age where she can't pull a hat off. </div>
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Though she may be complaining to me about it here. Hunter and I went around calling her our baby polar bear while she wore this. </div>
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And then I get this look. The eyebrows! I get the eyebrows a lot. I'm sure she won't outgrow this until well after her teenage years. </div>
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Or selfies. She loves selfies and trying to eat that delicious baby in there. Actually she is fascinated with my phone from all angles, and I can usually get her to smile for the camera. This must be a girl thing. </div>
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Our garden is actually still growing, another benefit of the warmer weather, and the cherry tomato crop is really bountiful. Only one of us actually gets many of them to eat, straight off the vine. And we finally got some okra out of nowhere. With the beautiful fall foliage in the background, we go every day to pick</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRYf85u1QnpM6_6K0f0wYyW3Mi9plO0DyXdnLCdEVr5gYudCwh79YjNRAIbi7_TQCrA_ujNWgfgc5ye3z1J-Qu_qivJymZV4V-lSh29g61a7964tvnvw_OBuXeV3nq7PmQoywyNKlInX-V/s1600/Joy%2527s+phone+6561.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> </a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRYf85u1QnpM6_6K0f0wYyW3Mi9plO0DyXdnLCdEVr5gYudCwh79YjNRAIbi7_TQCrA_ujNWgfgc5ye3z1J-Qu_qivJymZV4V-lSh29g61a7964tvnvw_OBuXeV3nq7PmQoywyNKlInX-V/s1600/Joy%2527s+phone+6561.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> </a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRYf85u1QnpM6_6K0f0wYyW3Mi9plO0DyXdnLCdEVr5gYudCwh79YjNRAIbi7_TQCrA_ujNWgfgc5ye3z1J-Qu_qivJymZV4V-lSh29g61a7964tvnvw_OBuXeV3nq7PmQoywyNKlInX-V/s1600/Joy%2527s+phone+6561.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> </a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRYf85u1QnpM6_6K0f0wYyW3Mi9plO0DyXdnLCdEVr5gYudCwh79YjNRAIbi7_TQCrA_ujNWgfgc5ye3z1J-Qu_qivJymZV4V-lSh29g61a7964tvnvw_OBuXeV3nq7PmQoywyNKlInX-V/s1600/Joy%2527s+phone+6561.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRYf85u1QnpM6_6K0f0wYyW3Mi9plO0DyXdnLCdEVr5gYudCwh79YjNRAIbi7_TQCrA_ujNWgfgc5ye3z1J-Qu_qivJymZV4V-lSh29g61a7964tvnvw_OBuXeV3nq7PmQoywyNKlInX-V/s400/Joy%2527s+phone+6561.JPG" width="300"> </a></div>
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And then our chef makes something in the kitchen. His real-life cooking skills are really quite good, and he is a very eager helper. Now if I could just leave him alone to fix supper while I nap or something. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQvfmeKxJdPexquKdYQBbZPr3Nu9bwq4CWK1d9xMhpjihxt9AhkRPNzl5Z5t-8qe5UWByjXxqJfKY0grdw1muAlOtWhyphenhyphenRJB7EB7Yv6rsRYYAwd0aZehqzGO9ZC_76LET9qJJP9kSc4G8yU/s1600/blogger-image--1587893837.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrdesU8JUpLicWnrIBbnm_qDpLNRKFHueh1E05Tlg9IWJsUYA45KcpNwpsZXt4uR0cO32zSKzoEVbIuApbB8SMdu-901s8SjjY5IoL_erPwAgKzBEkopsm-sTlXipSLn37GkdxT0RQ4A_N/s640/blogger-image-502723257.jpg"> </div>
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We spend a lot of days out on the trampoline, which we have found Josie LOVES. Pretty much everything that Hunter would have hated as a baby gets this one giddy. It is <i>hilarious </i>when the big brother comes bounding up to us, jumping so high and barely missing a tackle. She loves the activities of the day so much that napping has become more and more difficult. Life is just too fun to sleep through. Which, now that I think about it, must've been Hunter's motto for his first 3 years. Maybe they aren't so different.</div>
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The trampoline may be affecting my bad hip. With <strike>the flips I'm constantly doing</strike> chasing the little guy for tag or seeing who can jump highest or double bouncing him, I have felt a fatigue in the one hip later, which tells me I'm doing good for it! Right? </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjohXU5W2i5Whdi98-YFKNwk81qaD0JX1S_3PJRZiXP_iGYDqm-Sx8YxOlLVzkIt4erotrBjXaZcYryfQUyrrSFZaGf9JJBbvj5rA5muDpIkp-kGwNDRpUyuiMHztd1nJxOMA0MN8QXmQYk/s1600/blogger-image-436832473.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjohXU5W2i5Whdi98-YFKNwk81qaD0JX1S_3PJRZiXP_iGYDqm-Sx8YxOlLVzkIt4erotrBjXaZcYryfQUyrrSFZaGf9JJBbvj5rA5muDpIkp-kGwNDRpUyuiMHztd1nJxOMA0MN8QXmQYk/s640/blogger-image-436832473.jpg"> </a></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisNowuRHdTe2DpMT-t2kHQ0-OQm4OfAnQiqfqfUoCOsJTAva2EwDpFJdXTctxVWNZRYcttFzB99nMpfIXTyMjU4aYSOz7elzWtKi0y0cTF5uY84N3xyVFV2OXJ1G6nSvSeCXTFur4YtvMb/s640/blogger-image-103583553.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisNowuRHdTe2DpMT-t2kHQ0-OQm4OfAnQiqfqfUoCOsJTAva2EwDpFJdXTctxVWNZRYcttFzB99nMpfIXTyMjU4aYSOz7elzWtKi0y0cTF5uY84N3xyVFV2OXJ1G6nSvSeCXTFur4YtvMb/s640/blogger-image-103583553.jpg"></a></div>We are doing our best to enjoy the nice days, as the preschooler counts down the days until snow comes. Out at the river on a nice weekend, Josie went strollering with Daddy while Hunter and I skipped rocks off the dock and rode scooters, his new favorite thing. This serene picture is quite a contrast to the events of the next few minutes which involved one of them slipping off into the one foot of cold water and mud lying just below the dock. It was really quite a scene for the family taking portraits behind us. We got him laughing about it pretty quickly afterward. </div>
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<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0dvXLovz2ZF6x4r9s2Fa6nNhnkoxTu3yqUyR144qJvgSwM7RxLFBicMZhXq3e2mnK1GcXr7IR_DRUqp3JitN69TqLxLjitO1H8HIkzbpUvSXduC4vGD1kCXbfrM1n6JSI4kJl7_2Mjt09/s640/blogger-image--1384995349.jpg"></div>
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And lest you think Hunter's only duties involve gardening and cooking, I'll show you how my entertainer keeps my baby happy. Nobody comes close to matching the hilarity of Hunter's antics. That face of adoration! <br>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq3bDAtQS8zad4ZNi4tiJKq4o5JLBpwgusbQk9R49yGfDCLVOF5AOk59Dc2dUgx5Zunke4-pRDtSWAPyHaUISxvfY3DzFvFi9tYGkGBK1cjyeM-V8Yhc0FqdLasQ2fQUms4vPUcDEd8gXl/s1600/November+2015+018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq3bDAtQS8zad4ZNi4tiJKq4o5JLBpwgusbQk9R49yGfDCLVOF5AOk59Dc2dUgx5Zunke4-pRDtSWAPyHaUISxvfY3DzFvFi9tYGkGBK1cjyeM-V8Yhc0FqdLasQ2fQUms4vPUcDEd8gXl/s400/November+2015+018.JPG" width="400"></a></div>
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<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0ZQ0zWDmxKDn-jn4zkHO6JnjlabEv5E13ERZl0RxKLmm188ZYNjNG3xeiL0G9_PNXT8Il-0nO0M_K0Qr5KP-pV0M0oUdKyOJe7R6gCjczKlQNnYnftrUqlQE44d1K1m0G3_V1LvCiRCpk/s640/blogger-image-343786285.jpg"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br></div><div style="text-align: center;">And that is our highlight reel. </div>
Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14438762320360480096noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199946248307591218.post-43342341599863726372015-11-10T19:38:00.001-06:002015-11-10T19:38:18.925-06:00A Running PauseIt has finally come to this. I have stopped running after a few weeks of mega-mileage, defined as one run a week, around 3-4 miles. I thought this would be a good time to stop, since it's fall, the season of happy running, cooler temperatures, uncomfortable cycling, and eating of rich decadent foods. I had just started feeling fitter, like my more normal self after birthing this baby; my abs had returned to a non-irritated state, some of the puffiness was diminishing, and I could stay aerobic during my moderate trainer rides. <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">Instead of continuing this trend, I think I'll hibernate and eat roasted marshmallows and s'mores in the increasing darkness that will soon be winter. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">It's that or go in for a hip scope, because that's something to do when your usual day involves lots of jumping on a trampoline while having a baby wrapped onto you. (She loves it, actually.) This <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">running pause is just an exper<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">iment, along with th<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">e countless clam<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">shells and leg l<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">ifts I do between <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">f<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">oam rolling sets and <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">crunches. Surely it's just a muscle imb<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">alance or lack of <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">the el<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">usive "core strength<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">" that causes my hip pain. Maybe I don't drink enough beet<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"> or tart cherry juices these days. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">I've changed <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">my shoes, my terrain, <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">frequency, speed, ca<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">dence,<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">bike positio<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">n, <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">brea<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">kfast, everything. I roll, stretch, don't stretch, strengthen, rest, mobilize, immobilize. Can s<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">omeone please come out with a miracle cure-all soon? I mean, it's 201<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">5 already. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">When Jeremy asked if <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">I missed running I realized I don't really, because it hurts. So don't feel too sorry for me, <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">since I'd rather be on my trainer <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">re-watching</span> <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">old drama T<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">V sho<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">ws in the perfect temp<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">erature</span> and humidity<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"> wearing just my short<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">s and a spo<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">rts bra while having an audience of kittens<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"> an<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">d being able to <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">brow<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">se Pinterest for <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">wall paint colors and under-the-st<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">airs-<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">project<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">s f<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">or my poor unsu<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">s<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">pecting husband. And shop<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"> online. And lastly, do a workout if I remember to. Nobody wants chapped cheeks from run<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">ning in the cold <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">dark windiness of early winter anyway, right?</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14438762320360480096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199946248307591218.post-70994140897771086572015-11-04T21:47:00.002-06:002015-11-04T21:47:33.878-06:00Baking. Because I'm Hungry<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Here's something new for the blog: a recipe. Everyone always assumes I can't/won't/don't cook or know how to, but I've never figured out what makes them think that. Anyway. I made some muffins several years ago, mostly to give away. They were pretty healthy, so I wasn't expecting much, but they turned out fantastically delicious. I then lost the recipe, so I searched the internet, to no avail. And then, it suddenly popped up, </span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">written on the back of a piece of mail, </span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">in a stack of papers hidden away with some recipe books. Not wanting to lose it again, I took a picture and decided to share it. Do you ever find a good looking recipe on Pinterest or similar, then have to scroll through endless pages of terrible babble to get to the actual recipe? I'll spare you a bit of scrolling. The short, scritchy version:</span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Also, I will actually type it out for you. I am a minimalist when it comes to using dishes, and apparently writing recipe details, but you might add the wet ingredients, then the dry ones separately, or something. The 15 minutes of cooking is for the mini-sized muffins.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">For now I will take credit for these, at least until I find the real creator and give them credit. How about this for a name:</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>Chocolate zucchini sweet potato muffins </i></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">2/3 cup whole wheat flour</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">1 cup oat bran</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">1 cup rolled oats</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">1/3 cup cocoa powder</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">1 tsp baking soda</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">1/4-1/2 cup sugar (I use less of this, more chocolate chips)</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">1 egg</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">1 cup yogurt (I use greek, or sour cream when I'm short on yogurt. Ask my husband, they taste the same.)</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">2 Tbsp canola oil (or other oil-- coconut would be good!)</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">1 tsp vanilla extract</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">3/4 cup cooked mashed sweet potato (I've subbed canned pumpkin)</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">1 medium zucchini, grated (I've used yellow squash of course)</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">4 oz. (or 8oz.) chocolate chips</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Cook mini muffins in a greased pan at 350F for about 15 minutes. Get your veggies and chocolate together! </span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">A
few other modifications I made are the addition of a tablespoon of flax
meal (mixed with 3 tbsp water to soak 5 mins) plus a sprinkling of
brewer's yeast to aid in lactation, should you be interested in that
kind of thing. </span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Bonus recipe! for reading this far. I've modified it just a bit from <a href="https://diaryofamadcrafter.wordpress.com/2012/08/28/vegan-breakfast-cookies-a-recipe/" target="_blank">this recipe</a>, and it is vegan, so be warned that if you pin anything with "vegan" in its title <i>just one time</i> you will forever be given suggestions of vegan meals. Not that I'm complaining. </span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I happened to have all the ingredients for these in my kitchen except for the almond meal in the original recipe, because who doesn't have chia seeds and flax meal in the pantry? I just subbed more flour for the almond meal.</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span></span></span>
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Chocolate banana oatmeal breakfast cookies</span></span></span></span></i><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">1 1/4 cups rolled oats</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">1/2 cup shredded coconut (I use sweetened)</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">1/2 tsp salt</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">1 tsp cinnamon</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">3/4 cup whole wheat flour</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">2 Tbsp flax meal</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">2 Tbsp chia seeds</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">1/2 cup chocolate chips</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">3 mashed bananas</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">1/4 cup coconut oil</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">1 tsp vanilla extract </span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Bake at 350F for about 18-20 mins. Hunter's favorite part is eating as much raw dough as he wants. </span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">This sweet 4 month old has really been eating lately, which has made my hunger insatiable. I'm sure we will be whipping up one of these recipes again tomorrow.</span></span></span></span><br />
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<br />Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14438762320360480096noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199946248307591218.post-19753632955522381812015-10-22T13:14:00.001-05:002015-10-22T13:23:04.501-05:00Ethelyn Style Adventures<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My family and I have had a really tough week and a half. We lost the greatest person of all time, Ethelyn, my great aunt. Although she had a long 94 and a half years, we could've spent another 94 and a half with her and it still wouldn't have been enough. She's the person I would tell extraordinary stories about to others and they always say, "I have a grandmother/aunt/cousin-once-removed just like that!" No you don't. There is just nobody like her, I promise. </div>
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We decided to celebrate her best, we would have adventures at her house, around her town, and on her farm, just like she would've and has taken us on many times. </div>
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I can't put into words much else, still, but I can show pictures, and I can link to a post I wrote about her years ago, <a href="http://joyjohnson.blogspot.com/2008/04/happy-birthday-ethelyn.html" target="_blank">here</a>, for her birthday. You also need to read <a href="http://jenmcmen.blogspot.com/2015/10/to-ethelyn.html" target="_blank">Jenny's letter she sent to Ethelyn</a> a few years ago that really tells of our adventures.</div>
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At her house, we used to climb this fig tree (and overeat figs), swing for hours in the swing, dig and plant, and climb trees. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4f3J1_IMakndk3YkT5AYUqknJwFf2PJGEXSsGDTFaY1WfSYLLn4ERyfhYRvWcxC2ZFFH3z3xpTSFzrS_0t_2dhmujCGOkLhUndApHadUTcL7Lvt_oDkYbVAxQbMe8j-XkfX9SH_r6pUfI/s1600/Ethelyn%2527s+and+Senatobia+Oct+2015+003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4f3J1_IMakndk3YkT5AYUqknJwFf2PJGEXSsGDTFaY1WfSYLLn4ERyfhYRvWcxC2ZFFH3z3xpTSFzrS_0t_2dhmujCGOkLhUndApHadUTcL7Lvt_oDkYbVAxQbMe8j-XkfX9SH_r6pUfI/s400/Ethelyn%2527s+and+Senatobia+Oct+2015+003.JPG" width="400" /> </a></div>
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She taught us a hide and seek type game, called Arrow, which lead us around town and running through alleys, all the way to parks and playgrounds. </div>
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We spent hours in the farm, hiking and fishing and getting stuck in the mud driving her car. </div>
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We made up our own games, which on this day turned out to be a game of tag on a huge cluster of hay rolls. Everyone got on, except Mom, Dad, Jeremy, and Josie. And I won, probably. </div>
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I read somewhere that Heaven is just the next big adventure, so I know Ethelyn is off having her greatest adventure yet. We will keep adventuring here on earth for her for now. </div>
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Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14438762320360480096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199946248307591218.post-87814935627373553672015-09-29T19:41:00.000-05:002015-09-29T19:41:57.687-05:00The single triathlon race reportHalf my life ago, I was 19. And that summer, I finally got up the courage to compete in, er... complete my very first triathlon: Mightymite. Every summer since then has included at least a few races, and I wasn't about to break that streak this year just because I was pregnant half of the summer.<br />
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The perfect race to help me extend the streak was a sprint in nearby Conway, which happened to be the last race I did last summer. It would be a good comparison. Last year I had my hip pain, though it wasn't as bad, I had been swimming more than once a month, and I had actually been on my bike with other people, doing a few hills and intervals occasionally. This is not to say I was in good shape; I feel that state has eluded me for a good 6 or 7 years now. </div>
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The past year I have been relatively consistent in not swimming, but I did ride my trainer through the <i>very</i> end of pregnancy (can't get much closer than 3.5 hours), and running has been up and down, depending on the finicky joint. I have been somewhat reliably lifting weights (which my quad size is quick to advertise) for several months. This triathlon would be an interesting experiment.</div>
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When Hunter was the same age-- 12 weeks-- I did a triathlon up on the mountain in Ruidoso, and he and Jeremy traveled the hour up there with me, since the baby wasn't going to take any substitute for fresh squeezed mama milk. This time I made the half hour trip alone, leaving at least one of them sleeping, after I had fed Josie and pumped another cup for her second breakfast. She takes a bottle!</div>
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Arriving in the pitch blackness of the early fall morning, I had a harder time finding things like a parking spot and my gear, but an easier time finding a spot to pee right in front of my car by a tree. Score one for darkness. I estimated I would have plenty of time to set up and get in some good long warming up, but instead I chatted the time away after running to my car to get my wetsuit, which was very surprisingly legal. That was a super exciting development for my super undertrained swimming muscles. </div>
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Feeling like such a newbie, having not raced in a year, I was asking people in various lines what they were standing there for, to make sure I was in the right place, and I was getting more information than I actually needed from real first-timers about things such as how I needed to have bar end plugs and my helmet checked. Their sweet consideration was much appreciated, and I just hope I'm as accommodating to beginners when they need help. <br />
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I jogged back and forth across the starting area with Greg and then handed off my extra shoes and engagement ring to Chenin. Thank goodness she was there to spare me some worry! Lining up with the other sprinting women, I wondered how only a handful of us had remembered or been optimistic enough to bring a wetsuit. And I always bring a wetsuit when the temperature has dropped below 80F in the past month. It proved to be the key to a calm swim with a complete lack of panicking on my part. Did it matter that I took almost 2 minutes in transition to get it off over my chip? Not to me. But I made a note to put my chip <i>under </i>my wetsuit next time. Newbie.<br />
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Onto the bike, I didn't have any data to guide my effort, since my power tap is on my training wheel, obviously, and I use my fancy Zipps for racing. They're probably the only nice piece of equipment I race with these days, except for Jeremy's aero helmet that spares me from the weird cone-head look. I was passing men and women all over the place on the bike, and I knew some were doing the Olympic distance, which had started 20 or so minutes before us sprinters. Others, like usual, are just half-way decent swimmers unlike my neoprene-clad-yet-sinking-flailing self. Still, it was motivating to be passing and not passed. I was hoping to not be embarrassingly slow compared to last year, and based on some quick looks at my speed, it seemed to be going well. </div>
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Heading back into transition I was prepared for the dismount part, which I admit I had to practice a few days before to make sure the flying part of it didn't send me flying straight into the pavement. The part I didn't practice was how to hit the right button on this new garmin to stop timing the bike and start timing transition. I fumbled around and heard a beep, not realizing until I was exiting T2 that the wrong button was pushed. Ah well. </div>
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Chenin alerted me to the fact that I had two girls ahead of me and one right behind me, which motivated me to run like I was being chased (by something very slow, but alas). The little off road section at the beginning was making my pavement running legs a bit wobbly, and my first mile proved to be my slowest. I saw Greg a few minutes before the turnaround and told him I was coming for him. Then the two girls I was chasing appeared one at a time. I knew the first one was way out of reach, but second place wasn't much ahead. </div>
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I alternated my thoughts on the way back between being determined I could catch second place and giving up on her. I could see her ahead and it seemed she was getting closer one minute, then the next I felt like I was making up no time on her. She was running scared, looking back as she turned corners. But I just couldn't cover the 20 seconds that she beat me by before the end. That's one advantage to frequent racing: you learn how to hurt just that much more when you have someone to catch. It's a skill that I've forgotten. Or maybe I was just happy enough to be out there. </div>
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My run split ended up being 33 seconds slower than last year for a total time that was 31 seconds slower for the same 3rd overall female placing. Seems my wetsuit+ T1 and bike splits evened out. Hey, not bad! Maybe there is something to this "having a baby increases your VO2max" thing. Or maybe it was just a sprint, and how much worse could it really be? Either way, I'll happily hang my plastic framed award, er...printed certificate? right over the baby bed as a reminder of my accomplishment. </div>
Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14438762320360480096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199946248307591218.post-28232872020127098022015-08-27T10:43:00.000-05:002015-08-27T10:43:03.258-05:00The state of the household: August editionIt's the last week of August! I know summer is over for school kids everywhere, but not here at our house. Since we don't do "school" yet, September just means maybe some cooler weather and everybody getting excited about pumpkin stuff and boots. Except not me, since I only like pumpkin if you overwhelm it with chocolate, and hot sandal weather is still my favorite. Maybe the chiggers will die down though? We still have a lot more outdoor activities to partake in.<br />
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But! There's this: <br />
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This is Hunter enjoying his first television obsession: Paw Patrol. At least he actually learns things that I would otherwise not have had the opportunity to mention yet, such as, "walruses can hold their breath a long time, but not forever." And "bats are nocturnal." </div>
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It does become hard to say no to one episode after another when I can actually take care of the baby while it is on. Yes, sometimes it is hard to care for both little ones requesting my attention at the same time, which is 95% of my day. The husband, on the other hand, seems to have it down. </div>
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Except for that time he seemed to calm them so quickly that I commented on how well he had things under control. "One is staring at the fan and the other is standing six inches from the television. Yeah I'm father of the year." That doesn't happen often, and Daddy is still the champion swaddler, baby sleep inducer, funny guy, rough houser, dish washer, and baby burper. </div>
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This smirk. Amusing, Daddy. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjecVqAWTeO0L73HCcOsDsWQU-3MLdprOU4Zbs6aUeFAXlrUY8sWnJTepEVaYNLWJtxWuP1KfLS9leQmd9Vbz4c1EulIQuDn0OsEFxZoM0D-OeszK3riiSy7Mm14ndZzRRwbotzltpie-iI/s640/blogger-image-108673105.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjecVqAWTeO0L73HCcOsDsWQU-3MLdprOU4Zbs6aUeFAXlrUY8sWnJTepEVaYNLWJtxWuP1KfLS9leQmd9Vbz4c1EulIQuDn0OsEFxZoM0D-OeszK3riiSy7Mm14ndZzRRwbotzltpie-iI/s640/blogger-image-108673105.jpg" /></a></div>
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Daddy also has been creating. He hammered out this teepee for Hunter in 15 minutes flat. The kittens immediately claimed it as their own, as shown by the oversized white paws peeking out. </div>
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The trampoline set-up took a bit longer, but that's what the nights after bedtime are for, while the rest of us sleep. Next up he is building us a fire pit just in time for the marshmallow and corn roasting season. "Maybe we should go to a corn roast!" said Hunter one day after a particular paw patrol episode. Just wait, we will have a corn maze in our backyard at some point, I'm sure. </div>
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While one parent has it all together, yours truly spends the day covered in some present from Josie, usually a combination of spit up and teetee. But she tends to be clothed in similar fluids, since you just can't keep changing a baby's outfit every 30 minutes all day. I have found that if the big brother is being too rough or overwhelming her, all I have to do is say the word spit-up and away he flees. Works like a charm. </div>
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Spit-up-covered, baggy-eyed, crazy-haired, and calloused-kneed is the state I'm in lately. The last descriptor is the relatively permanent state of my knees since having a mobile child. I appreciated Megan explaining that she was told they are "good mom knees," since it is caused by the constant kneeling, crawling, and scraping across the floors while playing on it with kids. One of my ankles has developed a nice callous as well from being criss-cross-applesauce so much. </div>
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Besides looking awesome all day, I also feel squishy and blobby and heavy most of the time. Part of that could be because I actually am pretty heavy while wearing a chunky baby all day, and also the extra few pounds that I need hanging around for spare milk-making calories. </div>
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My stomach is still a bit mushy and my bike wattage is atrocious, and I'm forever glad I don't have to stand next to or race my past, much younger self. But that self had no precious cheering section, and I wouldn't trade that for 100 more watts and a six pack. </div>
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Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14438762320360480096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199946248307591218.post-88492917387085155542015-08-10T12:06:00.000-05:002015-08-10T12:06:11.690-05:00Different sorts of exercise<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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First, a baby picture. Those pouty lips!! Too bad you can't get the full view of the Daddy-wrapped straight jacket she's wearing. Puts her right to sleep. If you need swaddling tips, he's your guy.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFwYZLMLqJoXhYqfaB07p-Vb3OgeuphqeLO0HH4E-oHkDQvuDkQH18-a7HwWaNcOBKfsD8QyYhiugeGpUqlkpXwy62f4cwt5TE-dKWR4RPOF9Fz0rDRO0tbApLDzjNCkAf28_OlGWAOkLC/s640/blogger-image-291600774.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFwYZLMLqJoXhYqfaB07p-Vb3OgeuphqeLO0HH4E-oHkDQvuDkQH18-a7HwWaNcOBKfsD8QyYhiugeGpUqlkpXwy62f4cwt5TE-dKWR4RPOF9Fz0rDRO0tbApLDzjNCkAf28_OlGWAOkLC/s400/blogger-image-291600774.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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And now for some thoughts on postpartum exercise, mine in particular. In some cases, average would be an improvement upon things, like my current state of fitness. Since "fitness" can technically be described in terms of cardiovascular endurance, muscular endurance, muscular strength, flexibility, and body composition, I might not be failing in <i>all </i>areas. <br />
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Side note: when are they going to just go ahead and take flexibility out of the equation? We have learned that it's really not always the best for fitness and especially performance, and it reminds me of a yoga teacher who once said, "If you have healthy hamstrings, you have a healthy body." After that gem, I don't think I ever went back to her class.<br />
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If you added the descriptor, "painless," to those fitness components, that's where I run into trouble. It's the hip again! Somehow pregnancy temporarily improved the ability of my hip to withstand running, although my pelvic bones did not go along agreeably all the time. But immediately postpartum, the right one revolted again. There's a sharp pain sometimes, a dull ache others, and an overall fatigue that lingers. And oh my sacroiliac joint. It is in a constant state of disstress.<br />
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This is getting troubling. I do enjoy running, and I have a great affinity for triathlons. But instead of jumping right back into running, like a (former? not yet...) triathlete might expect, it has been a slower progression. So far I can handle a measly four miles at a time. Thanks to Damie and the excellent book I borrowed from her, Jay Dicharry's<i> Anatomy for Runners, </i>I have started incorporating a lot of different strength training into my weeks. And there is a small possibility (knock on wood) that it is working. While I do love me a good back cracking, I haven't been back to the chiropractor since before Josie's birth, since I have known all along that it isn't getting to the root of the problem. That doesn't seem to be a chiropractor's MO anyway. I am taking things into my own hands for now.<br />
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Since running was going so poorly, I decided last week that my three mile run should be hill repeats, because why not? It actually didn't seem to hurt my hip worse than daily life. And the hours that I have been devoting to foam rolling (not literally, who has that kind of time?) seem to make the biggest difference.<br />
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I can't delay getting back into all of the triathlon stuff, since this is my 20th season of triathlon-ing, and I need to at least do one race. The closest one that isn't this weekend is mid-September, so that's on the "training plan," said with sarcasm. It won't be fast or pretty, but hopefully everyone else will do the Olympic distance while I do the sprint race.<br />
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Since swimming is my weakest sport, we have hit the pool pretty frequently lately. Just kidding, I do this at the pool mostly, but without the smirk. Nursing is always involved, and what could make it easier than a bikini top?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJsrL9wfuYhtJ-_KrO1emk0oMjF6piqk2tNNAWHMXXAYqKcEQkl__c2jjKoZvZCrxNndapgNdEvtr5GLQfkclHKtnkPiMyyjgDlypq1mYRUD_M_zrX4p1jmCwV85OW8tZQ8CMKpfbLgUDX/s640/blogger-image--875873448.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJsrL9wfuYhtJ-_KrO1emk0oMjF6piqk2tNNAWHMXXAYqKcEQkl__c2jjKoZvZCrxNndapgNdEvtr5GLQfkclHKtnkPiMyyjgDlypq1mYRUD_M_zrX4p1jmCwV85OW8tZQ8CMKpfbLgUDX/s400/blogger-image--875873448.jpg" width="400" /> </a></div>
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And speaking of funny faces, this is what we get when we ask Hunter to smile for a camera. He won't smile, but he will agree to a "funny face." Possibly in response to whatever the neighbor in the background was doing. ?? But we couldn't resist capturing him in his jammer/life jacket combo. </div>
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Has it really been 6 weeks since <a href="http://joyjohnson.blogspot.com/2015/07/josies-birth.html" target="_blank">Josie was born</a>? She is wonderful, of course. The real lifesaver in this house is the Moby wrap. When she just can't sleep alone, or Hunter needs me to play (which is always) and be mobile (that too), I just wrap her up to sleep on me and nurse when she needs to. The ring sling is good for a quick and less complicated carry, and the Ergo, with the infant insert is just a bit bulky and hot right now. I do get some strength training hauling her around, except that she was only 11.5 pounds when we last weighed her. Kind of not significant. But the sheer number of times I squat while carrying her each day adds up to something. I'm a little surprised I get any pictures of her in her little bed, since I do hold her so much (partly... er, mostly just because I want to).<br />
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Mommy, I just. can't. even.<br />
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Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14438762320360480096noreply@blogger.com2