Perfect piggy pedi palooza!

When you walk into your 10 AM pedi appointment (first time slot of the day, folks! no wait!) with BRIGHT my-7-year-old-actually-chose-these-for-me-and-I-love-them running gear and coffee in hand, think twice before offering the pedicurist your scummy feet while blithely announcing "I just ran 3 miles this morning, and I've been looking forward to this!" and no other information.  For example, a lovely (and necessary) follow-up might sound something like "Don't worry.  I definitely took a shower first."

I completely forgot that part because bliss, thy name be A Good Pedicure.

After some searching, I've found my pedicure home.  Granted, the first song that came on the radio when I started soaking my piggies was "Hit Me Baby, One More Time."  Ah, that took me back to ye good olde days of music.  Even some Britney can't ruin my mood because this was a well earned hour of warm, bubbly water and foot rubs with some plum paisley thrown in for good measure.

(I do gravitate to the dark, dark colors for the toes.  It's my (toe) jam.  One time, probably out of a nervous habit of wanting to fill the silence - slash - make awkward chitchat, I asked the pedicurist's opinion about colors and she essentially said "These are colors for summer, not what you're looking at."  I mistakenly listened to her so as not to keep on careening toward Awkwards-ville, and did. not. like. that. color. at. all.  I never went back there.)

Someone tell me why a dark shade of purple, a solid color, is called plum paisley seeing as how it's not paisley at all.  I liked the name though, and this is also a decided factor in how I choose paint colors: Sugar cookie?  Check.  Peacock fancy?  Yes, please.  Purple-icious?  No m'aam. 

All of this is by way of saying, a decided highlight of SpRiNg BrEaK '17 (part I) was my hour spent with my new BFF (whose name I don't know but who still gets paid pretty well to be my friend once every 4 months).  I love the whole experience from the delightful smells of something like heaven when I walk in to the smooth, slippery way my feet feel when I leave, from the first moment scooching my feet down into the copper tub to the way she doesn't make me talk for the entire 60 minutes, from the way it takes me an hour to read about 12 pages because I'm so distracted by foot joy to the way my coffee tastes decadent. 

I'm just a girl in need of a foot rub now and again with a little bit of polish thrown in for good measure. 

I've done the manicure thing before, and it was OKAY.  I've done the massage thing before, and it was NICE.  But the feet have it.  It took me about 10+ years of my adult life to realize this is just a part of my yearly budget.  I'll eschew all manner of things that would otherwise sap my pedicure funds in favor of this one-perfect-hour treat.  When I make my first million, yes there will be weekly pedicures in my life. I am pedi sure about that. 

Hear ye, hear ye!

In another round of I'm-late-to-the-party-but-better-late-than-never, I have a few links to share tonight.  Good links.  Sometimes funny links.  Scratch your head or sigh in comradeship links. 

Here's the deal.  I find myself with some extra time on my ears that isn't fully taken with a form of media, and as I was typing that sentence, I realized just how many different outlets of communication I have on a daily basis in my life now.
1.  Sirius XM radio (at least for a couple of more months...thanks hubs, for the Christmas present 'cause I heart Michael Smerconish!)
2.  6 large TV screens on various channels in front of me while treadmilling (On another note where I talk about running yet again, I'd like to point out that I thought today was going to absolutely bite the biggest of the big ones cause it's been a few days since I've run.  And it didn't.  3 cheers to that.)
3.  2 different devices with a constant email update/news update/entertainment update, all day long
4.  a favorite TV show for about an hour in the afternoon and another hour at night if I'm lucky
5.  3 podcasts that I follow every week
6.  another couple of podcasts that I've dabbled with
7.  a new podcast that I tried this week
8.  MLB TV soon and very soon (like a breath of springshine, the new season is a'startin')

But let's gab about #7 for a bit.  I occasionally reach into the TED Talks vaults for a class source with a couple of the classes that I teach.  And they're always fantastic.  Always smartly delivered.  Always fascinating.  Who knew that TED Talks are available for podcasts and videocasts?  Indeedy, they are.  They're that nugget of insight, wisdom and learning for the sake of learning that's been missing from my life.  They're (generally) kid-safe (which means that I can have them on in public spaces while putzing in the kitchen), and they're delivered in snappy little 5-20 minute packages, which is perfect-o for those times when you have a few minutes but not long enough for an entire episode of whatever it is that you're involved with. 

Just while juicing a few lemons, prepping for pizza and unloading a dishwasher, I listened to a discussion on asteroids (she seems like someone that I want to drink coffee with) and some thoughts about why we should raise brave girls (YES, YES, oh my YES & color me convicted of not practicing my own bravery skills).  When I was then making the pi pizza pie (it's 3-14 & my young people are always down for a mid-week, kitschy celebration), I sighed deep sighs on the truth of women's voices (my sighs were shockingly British sounding, too).  While I folded towels tonight, I considered a different perception of indoctrination (and will promptly be integrating this into my lesson plans for next week - get read, ENGW-132!).  And, while throwing on some clothes post-shower/pre-school pick-up, I delighted in learning from obituaries (fascinating stuff & proof positive that I don't only listen to female TED Talks speakers). 

Good people.  Embrace a new possibility.  A new potential.  A new bit of knowing.  If nothing else, I find that listening to brilliant and motivated people make me cheer for humanity and strive to be more of everything in a good way, a possible way.  There's a whole bunch of hope in knowing that a whole bunch of others know a whole bunch of things that I don't and so that I don't have to. 

And if you have a bit more time in your world or want to delve into a longer conversation of happenstance and hard work combined, I encourage you to give How I Built This a go.  I've only listened to a couple so far, but they haven't failed to make me shake my head a bit and appreciate the Common Joe aspect of all the innovators and entrepreneurs among us.

With all of those listens I'm sending your way, here's a clip for you parents out there.  I envy her spunk when faced with a car trip with kids.  There's just about nothing I dread more.  I want to be at so many places, but the boy doesn't want to foot the bill for airplane tickets (begrudgingly, I'm in agreement with right now), which means that we make calculated risks using Mapquest to guide our X-hour parameters.  We're firmly in the pack-up-the-kids-and-a-puke-bucket-mode around here.  My child...she is what she is.  But I'd like to see where the adrenaline-from-another-round-of-carsickness Mommy-tude falls into the hourly breakdown.  HINT:  For us, it happens pretty fast.  (I had the girls 45 minutes away from home this past Saturday for a girl's day adventure.  We made it 15 minutes before we had windows down and the familiar look was on her face.)

   

From the riffraff to the hoi polloi

Folks - I ran for 25 minutes at 5.5 miles per hour today (40 minutes total - that was my middle jag).  That's the fastest for the longest, people.  Cheer ye all, cheer ye all, I did not so much as keel over and perish but still ran on.

Readers - I'm glad that I have girls.  I spend 40 minutes a day reading books with two best friends who help fairies capitulate against conniving goblins and a nefarious Jack Frost rather than about muddy trucks and backhoes.  This is one of those times when God was three (thousand) steps ahead of me and knew my heart.

People - It's swimming week for the Elder, which means nightly hair washings and a couple of extra loads of laundry.  Have you ever tried to comb my daughters thick, gnarly wet hair?  Oh, lovely people.  I have.  Many times.  And that's enough to sprout my first grey hair.  Detangler is something of a placebo against this gnarl, and it must be two-three times a week that I ever so gently and kindly remind her that IF YOU WOULD LET US CUT IT, THIS WOULD NOT BE OUR HAIR WASHING SITUATION.  The end.

Homies - I'm about fed up with students who don't take the time to look at my feedback before shooting off an email to me about WHY DID I GET THIS GRADE and (my favorite) YOU MUST HAVE ENTERED THE WRONG GRADE HERE.  No, good students of my class.  I didn't.  You just stunk at that assignment.  All is not peaches and As when one does not take the time to understand the assignment and abide by the parts being asked of one.  But then we get back to class and I remember that I like my students a whole bunch, and I keep on a'keepin' on.

Humans - Today's word is "protmanteau" because that's relevant.

Community - My lilacs are burgeoning with leaves and my "decorative crab apple" tree has the hazy red of springtime on its blushing branches.  Absurd.  Unreal.  It's March 8.  I'm concerned about all things springtime in this crazy season of warm-cold-warm-cold-warm.  I also read a book on urban gardening lately (really good...makes me want to plant some potatoes in the front yard, be forewarned).  Someone send me some seeds!  Or seedlings!  'Cause I don't have any place to sprout seeds!  Let's get our warm dirty dirt on.

Mortals - I'm also reading a book about sugar.  Lemmetellya.  There's some good stuff in there about things like high fructose corn syrup that I just didn't know before and some things that I glaze through for a couple of pages at a time but overall, it's a sweet read.  Sweet, I say.  And it makes me want to swear off desserts forever.  But I haven't gotten to the part where we talk about how sugar is addictive yet.  We'll see what we learn when we get there.

Plebians - I got a doughnut today.  I knew that I was going to get a doughnut today.  It helped me through the last 7 minutes of my almost-so-I'll-say-it-was 4 mile chug today.  That doughnut didn't last long enough to make up for those last 3 minutes.

Tribe - Yes, yes I am using thesaurus.com.  It's 10 o'clock, and I'm also watching TV.  Sometimes the power of words elludes me at moments such as these.

Commonality - This one's a stretch.

Mob - I like this one.  Let's be a really good mob, though.  Let's mob illicit ice cream or something.

Family - I like putting on some running leggings in the morning and putting off the morning shower for a couple of hours.  And these knees, they're fresh and ready to go seeing as how I coddled them for the first 33 years of their existence.  I think I have a couple of good years yet in them.  Maybe even a 5K.  If it's not too bright and not too humid and not too cold and no one in the crowds lining the race knows me. 

Blogees - I'm going to eat some cereal because there isn't a better pre-bedtime nibble.  So says me. 

Sleeping...kinda...sometimes

So I blissfully slept on the couch last night, curled up wearing a sweatshirt and in the middle of four blankets of various weight.  I'm a girl who likes some heat and the weight of covers when she sleeps.  There have likely been downwards of two times in my life when I haven't been able to sleep because "it was so hot."  Por ejemplo.  We went tent camping in 100-degree humid heat last year.  The heat bothered me not a jot (at night).  When I was a mid-teen, my parents gave me one two of my favorite presents ever: flannel sheets and a down comforter.  July was toasty roasty in my room.  I admit, it almost sounds disgusting to me to acknowledge that I used to sleep in flannels year round, but then I remember the glacial conditions that my dad (i.e. the one controlling the A/C) prefers.  Whenever we visit now, there's nearly always an extra blanket or two ready and waiting at the foot of the bed because it's like they know me.   

Those roasting July nights of my youth...ah...those were some of the best of times when it comes to my sleep.  As an adult, there have really been two better-than-I-could-possibly-believe of times that I now recognize in hindsight.  (If only I had appreciated the glory days when I was in them.  Nowadays is very much not the glory days.) 
#1:  When I was teaching full-time, pre-children especially, and getting up earlyearlyearly so that I could drive to work and/or when I didn't even have the longer commute but still cut myself off from work at 11 PM each night after longlonglong days.
#2:  Both times I had a newborn.  Naturally.  Those days taught me how to sleep for realsies. 

But something happened a little over 18 months ago, July 2015, actually.  That was some humdinger of a month, I tell ya.  Sleep - no more.  Hormones - not my normal.  Life - different.  I'm pretty positive that this whole thing has been a hormone issue from the get-go given that my sleep changed muy dramatically all at the same time as other not-very-exciting-nor-blogworthy things happened.  But who knew that one would need to be sleep trained mid-30s?  Not I.

Now I.


I read this article once before but came across it again today and I read this last night, so it seemed like a good time to talk about it, given my couch surfing proclivity.  (To be fair, I fully expected to sleep on the couch last night 'cause I had coffee late and was teaching late.  Even without coffee, after driving home, it takes me a while to downshift into neutral, and by that point, my normal was a while ago.) 

I desperately want my own room that we can call a "guest room" for the sake of social appearances.  I never need melatonin when I sleep by myself.  I always need it at minimum otherwise. 

I don't love all of the 10 tips, though, for re-training your sleep patterns.  I'm n-o-t a fan of less than 67 degrees in my bedroom.  We get that low in the winter, but my nose gets cold.  Blergh.  I'm not on board with getting rid of a clock, even though I'm aware of the light issue.  And it's 100% IMPOSSIBLE that I forgo my computerly devices within 2 hours of sleeping.  When would I work?  That is my prime working time; I could have a jam packed kid day and feel confident that I was going to get something accomplished once they were put away for the night.  It's a non-option.  I feel anxious-er now just thinking such a dreadful thought.

I haven't tried any of the teas yet because a) tea tastes like t-e-a (and while I've adjusted to my cuppa green each day, unsweetened, something reminiscent of hay doesn't scream sleep baby sleep to me) and b) diuretics seem to contradict my nighttime goals.  Has anyone had any success with an herbal nod? 

And how does one sleep this way when one is not in one's own meticulously curated sleeping space?  So much can go wrong.  So much does go wrong.  There's a noisy fan running somewhere.  The room is frigid.  My child is BREATHING beside me.  The windows don't have coverings (what the what here, good people of the hospitality industry?!?).  Good people that we travel with are on a different sleep/wake schedule and talk like people are wont to do.  The mattress just feels different.  Call me kooksville if you want, but why yes, I am that person bringing my own pillow to the hotel/B&B/in-laws/whatehaveyou because that's a deal breaker.  Give me my pillow or give me a night of wallowing.  (I do have the perfect pillow.)

Sleeping outside of my home is a new worry.  A worrisome worry.  It's enough to make me all a-dither before the witching hour draws nigh when staring a strange sleeping arrangement in the face.  It's gotten to the point that I mentally scout a second-option-escape-route out in advance.  Just in case.  And it's almost always needed now.

Piffle.

This sleeping thing is for the birds.  Maybe not...they were singing pretty happily at 5 AM-ish just the other day.      

Around the world in 12 meals

This is going to be quickish 'cause my students aren't submitting their drafts (due in 3 h 29 m), so I'm flush with some unexpected time, and I have a Sunday crossword staring me down from 2 feet away.  My purple pen is all lined up, and I think that I might even have an episode of Grey's Anatomy lined up, too.  In other words, this Sunday night is turning out to be more pleasant than expected.  Let's move along here, doggy.

I gotta share this one.  It's about my best idea ever (take this as you wish...it's not exactly Earth shattering or anything).  Once a month this year, we're choosing a different country to explore.  We investigate their food, read a book about them, and prepare a meal to enjoy together.  So far, we ventured to the Philippines in January and China in February.  The Filipino meal - excellent.  The Chinese meal - equally excellent but not received as well.  So far, we're two-for-two on trying new foods (and we had five different, new foods to try out yesterday!) without complaint, which is not always the case. 

Next month, we're going to catch a boat to Ireland because March = all things Irish, and who doesn't need a dose of meat and potatoes after noodles and oyster sauce?  Plus, Filipino cooking often calls for an ingredient called banana ketchup.  Let's return to some semblance of normalcy in the space of my regular grocery store aisles, eh?

The moral of the story here, which I already knew (this isn't our first three-ring circus), is that if you want to try something new, get the kids excited about it, too.  Give them a purpose.  Allow them to have input in the decision.  Find out what they're interested in and gratuitously, shamelessly exploit that.  And, when all else fails, give it a ridiculous name and cross your fingers.  (For a while there, kiwis were known as dinosaur bones around our house.  And then the Elder came to terms with their deliciousness.  Now, she eats them for lunch or snack almost every day.)

欢呼  (Cheers!)

Tell me your thoughts. I'll send you cookies!

You know how you sometimes think of that perfect (as it gets) blog topic that you naturally forget because you don't write it down when you think of it?  That's my style, 'bout every day. 

I'll share this thought today, the latest in my stress worrying.  The Younger is turning five this summer, which makes her old enough for Kindergarten in the fall.  We're (mostly me) considering not sending her to K-garten but rather keeping her in a 5-year program at her pre-school and then just skipping K altogether.  It's not required in the state, so this should be an option that the school can't fight us on.

Prior to the Elder's Kindergarten experience, we debated a few options, including half-day Kindergarten, which we're both much bigger fans of, but ultimately decided that we need to suck it up and support the system that we teach in figuratively as well as literally.  So, we I packed her little lunches, tucked her folder in her backpack each day, and sent her on her way.

And she was bored.  And it set a kinda negative tone about school that we're still hearing 3 years later.

I'm fully aware the the Younger is a different little person than her older sister, but for all intents and purposes academically, they're very similar at this point.  In other words, I'm anticipating more of the same, and I'm weighing our options again because we can make a decision.  What a blessing.

I've talked with the pre-school director and the Elder's first-grade teacher, getting a bit of insight from both school perspectives.  Later this week, I'll be picking the brain of her current pre-school teacher.  And folks, I'm still all here and there and every which way about it.  Another blessing is that we don't technically have to commit for about another 2 months yet.  We also live out of district of the school system that we chose for our kids, so a small part of me wonders if this would be a reason that they wouldn't accept the Younger in another year for 1st grade. 

But Kindergarten is not required in this state.  She has had 3 years of a formal schooling experience.  She's learned to socialize with her peers and to follow instructions.  She doesn't need to practice colors ad naseum.  And, she'll get about 9 weeks of a refresher at the beginning of 1st grade that, frankly, makes me think that she'll just pick up whatever she might have not mastered in her alternate-Kindergarten experience. 

I know some that stop by to read my ramblings are likely to have some perspective on this.  I'm very open for thoughts on this, knowing that you all don't really know my child all that well (or at all).  I'll be frank here, though - homeschooling isn't so much an option (though we'll happily supplement if we do choose the 5-year old class, pre-school option).  But please, share some insight!  I'll gladly offer you some thoughts about how the upcoming season is looking for my boys (baseball, my friend, baseball).  Or, I'll send you some cookies.  Your choice.

The skinny around here (figuratively speaking)

Internet people, as I like to do, here's my intro announcement:

I'm still loving my time at the fitness center.  Me.  A treadmill.  Multiple TV screens to flip between as I pace myself.  It's quite lovely. 

I ran for 33 minutes straight (49 minutes in an hour) just the other livelong day.  Little 'ole me.  It feels shockingly good wipe sweat off my face and to tell myself "Just keep going until the next commercials...OK, now just make it through these commercials...alright, now let's make it to when the people get up to the bedrooms" (House Hunters...helpfully formulaic when you're timing yourself by the various parts of the show). 

Things I've discovered so far:
1.  I've had a shocking amount of conversations with the boy concerning Greek yogurt, breathing, hydration, and abs.  If I only have about 15 minutes a day to really wedge in a conversation with the spouse, at least we're keeping it real.
2.  I feel like I sweat less.
3.  I can have a casual conversation until between the 15-20 minute mark when it gets a touch harder. 
4.  My lungs are good until the 30-ish minute mark.
5.  I'm glad that I don't smoke.
6.  I definitely need to stretch out the calves before I start.
7.  Sometimes my back gets stiff...dumb, bad posture.
8.  My abs feel different, which is a new phenomenon.
9.  I don't even mind it when I run into students and I'm all red-faced sweaty.
10.  It's fantastic just doing something else for a couple of hours a week.  That's the best part.

And in other news, my latest thing that I can't make a decision on is whether or not to send the Younger to a 5-year old class next school year and then forgo Kindergarten completely.  Folks - submit your thoughts to me.  I'm all eyes.

In the meantime, the Younger is gaga (again) for Uno, which means that we play games (upon games, upon games...) every day.  And, we added a new game (Sleeping Queens) into the rotation, so there's that, too.  Plus, the Elder is b-i-g into Clue, so we've had quite the winter of gaming.  I lurve it.

Last night at dinner, the Elder was discussing her reading, and she dropped this little nugget of wisdom.

Daughter:  "Did you know that I used to not like reading?"
Me:  "Oh...really?  I couldn't tell."

I mean, seriously.  She thinks that we didn't notice when she read just because.  She thinks that we haven't noticed that she now squirrels away for 45 minutes with books in hand.  Such a 7-year old.

She's always been a math-minded kid, i.e. just like her father.  And I dig that about her.  I don't have to have a little bookworm.  But, goodness, that would be great.  SO great.  Years of education are stretching before her...years of reading.  That will make all of her lives better if we can all just agree that reading is top notch.  Which it is.

And that's the skinny-ish bit of what's going on around here.  Thank you for reading.  You're a nice person.