January 20, 2011
I was steeling myself for a major reality check when I went out for my first run after having a baby. I’ve been scheming about races and what reasonable training schedules could be, but it was all fanciful daydreams until I actually went out for a run to see what I had left. I was focusing on the fun of running and not on the beating my body was going to take.
So today I finally did it. Dad watched the boy, and I went out for my first postpartum run. This was my pleasant surprise: going for a run after having run during pregnancy is like shedding a resistance suit for a swim meet. I intended to try for three miles, walking if I needed to. After a mile and a half, rather than turning around, I mentally committed to four miles and went on another half mile before turning around. I ran the whole four miles, feeling good, shaving a minute and a half off the pace during my last mile just because I could. (Granted, I averaged 12:30 miles.) I like the symmetry: one mile for each month off of running.
Now, it wasn’t all giggles and rainbows; I’m certainly going to be extremely sore tomorrow. But it’s a promising re-start. And now I’m registered for the GW Parkway Classic 10 Miler on April 10. Here we go!
January 8, 2011
Two words: half marathon.
2010 was supposed to be the year of the half marathon, but by gum, I’m doing it in 2011. As of right now, this is my race schedule for this year:
April 2: Monument Avenue 10K, Richmond (registered)
April 10: GW Parkway Classic, 5K or 10 Miler (undecided on distance)
October 1: Freedom’s Run Half Marathon, Harpers Ferry
October 9: Army Ten Miler
November 13: San Antonio Rock N Roll Half Marathon (perhaps)
And of course, plenty of 5Ks sprinkled in (because my second resolution is to beat my 5K personal record of 28:29) and possibly a spring half marathon as insurance that I actually get one in this year. Ah, the year of the half marathon! The year of the jogging stroller!
Poor Colin had to get a handful of vaccine’s at the pediatrician yesterday, so he woke and fussed a little more than usual last night. It amazes me that in the first two months a fever is an emergency requiring a visit to the emergency room, but at two months and one day, it’s safe to give vaccines that will cause a fever for the next 24 hours or so.
So poor Stinkerton has a fever, and we don’t like it. Fortunately, once we calm the original upset after he wakes, he’s back to smiling and cooing, if he does look a bit glassy-eyed.
After nursing him, I need to pump, so Allen and Stinks entertain each other with dueling cooing. I leave them smiling at each other on the bed while I go to bag up the milk.
I get no further than the bottom of the stairs because a large puddle surrounds one side of the doormat.
After I clean the cat pee (undoubtedly The Beast’s doing), I come back upstairs, rinse the towels, and throw them in the washer.
Back downstairs, I begin a mini battle with the bag of milk because I can’t get my grip on it just where I need to in order to squeeze out all the air bubbles. I move my operation to the counter on the island where the light is better. Trouble jumps up to see me, and as I sweep him off, he takes with him the tooth-shaped box that Allen’s mother brought over earlier this week.
The top of the plastic tooth pops open when it hits the floor, and now Allen’s wisdom teeth are scattered on the linoleum, so big they look like caricatures of teeth.
I bend down to gather them and throw them out, but stop myself. I need to finish storing the milk with clean hands. Trouble and The Beast sniff the teeth and then lazily bat them around the floor, only half-interested in this new toy.
Back upstairs (urine cleaned, milk stored, teeth disposed of), Allen and Colin have fallen asleep next to each other on the bed.
Good morning and good night.
January 7, 2011
I wouldn’t want anyone to get a skewed vision of parenthood from all the smiling, happy baby pictures. So when Colin started to fuss yesterday, I grabbed the camera and took this picture:
And then I took one step closer, Colin realized I was coming, and the next picture looked like this:
He’s a real pistol, that one. It takes entire seconds to comfort him.
January 6, 2011
Colin is a baby giant.
That kid you see is two
years months old today.
Already, I look back at pictures of him from when he was first born, and you’d hardly recognize the kid. (I never really believed I could have produced such a lean baby in the first place, but apparently the master plan was to be born small and then inflate himself to an appropriate size for taking over the world!)
Once upon a time, when he was a wee little baby (two months ago, for about three minutes), his Tati Stephie had the great idea of making a plaster mold of his handprint. When several visits passed without accomplishing the task, Stephanie put the handprint kit under the tree on Christmas. So yesterday, Colin and I started our little project.
I rolled and kneaded the clay while Colin supervised. Then I pressed it into the tray, and Colin obliged by letting me press his foot and hand into the clay.
Actually, he was not obliging about pressing his hand into the clay at all. For several minutes, he refused to unclench his fist. I was just considering doing the other foot instead, when I finally got his hand open, but the impression we made in the clay wasn’t very deep. Colin didn’t care because he was hungry by that point.
After nursing, Colin fell asleep, so I came back to the kitchen, mixed the plaster, and poured it into the mold to sit overnight. In the morning, we had this masterpiece:
Then Colin painted it. Those fine moter skills are really coming together for him.
And voila! The “German shepherd puppy feet” (said his pediatrician) and hands are immortalized in plaster.
January 3, 2011
The sudden appearance yesterday of 13 bug bites (unknown origin) on my legs has really taken it out of me, mentally and emotionally. I’m terrified that a pair of pajama pants I bought last week could be the culprit – I was lazy and didn’t wash them before wearing. All of the bites are on unexposed skin that the pajama pants would cover (and range from the ankles to the waist). If this is bed bugs… I have already lost sleep over it, googling pictures of insect bites (they look like mosquito bites), treatment for bed bugs, signs of bed bug infestation and so on. I’ve washed all the linens and, of course, the pajamas. And all that on top of the itching is driving me mildly nuts most of the time and absolutely insane when I’m nursing and can’t address it right away!
Before I forget to mention, I wanted to write down that two days ago, I was laying in bed with Colin, and he scootched his body (or perhaps his head) closer to me. He accomplished this entirely by flailing, which is why I was so impressed. I moved my pillow away from him to give him more space, and he flailed and flailed until he was right next to my head again. It only looked like foolish baby antics; clearly it was calculated and meticulous physics-based flailing. Or so the child’s mother would have you believe…
January 1, 2011
I had already opened this page to start a post on my so-called New Year’s resolutions, when a friend’s post on Facebook stopped me in my emotional tracks. I am reminded that I am fortunate to look forward to 2011 with a light heart. Several of my close friends experienced deep tragedies in 2010 - too many of them – and the coming of a new year, the significance we put on the passing of one minute to the next in the dark of night, does not erase their losses.
So I’ll save my resolutions for another day and instead, kiss my husband, cuddle my child, and leave a moment of silence for what saying goodbye to 2010 means to some of those I love.