Socks

I can't take it anymore.

Every morning.

Wait.

Every day I devote way too much of my time searching for socks.

Socks for Beau.

Socks for Carmella.

Socks for Ryan.

Socks for me.

I find socks. But inevitably they aren't same style, color, or size. I've even tried only buying just white socks but not all white socks are the same. But in pinch it will work. But some days, seriously, I can't even find 2 white socks to put together.

Worst is my Asics Hera socks. I love, love, these socks. They cost $8 a pair and I must have bought at least 10 pairs over of the past year. $80 in socks. Can you imagine? There is a right sock and a left sock. Even labeled as such for arch compression. It is so maddening. Some weeks I can only find left Hera socks. Other weeks it is only right socks. Never mind actually having the same color Hera socks. . . (Hmmm, possibly what is wrong with my feet is from running with two left socks, or right. The compression might be that powerful. . .)

We buy socks at least monthly. Always in packs of 10, or at the very least, packs of 3 for fancy designer socks (read for Carmella). My mother in law is always giving the kids socks.

We should have a sock surplus!

But yet, I can never find any.

Every day I make an exhausting search for socks.

If I am ever late you can bet it was because I was sock searching.


Please, for the love of Pete what is happening to all the freaking socks?

Is there a secret sock vortex? Yet another great mystery of the universe sitting somewhere off to the left of that 10th planet? Is that where all the socks go?

Okay. I will concede this:

We have a dog.

Her name is Lola.

She is not a show dog.

She is a husky. They are, a little weird.

Most dogs do stuff like chew on your shoes, your furniture, the molding, a rug etc.

Our dog?

She has a sock fetish.

Clean, dirty, mine, Ryan, the kids? Doesn't matter she eats all socks. I've even caught her stealing them out of the laundry basket. She swallows them whole. I know this because I often find vomited whole socks--always greenish, putrid yellow in color. I throw those out.

But really, she can't be eating that many socks. Can she?

For Christmas?

We want socks.

Is This Why People Love Dogs?

Okay.
Here is my disclaimer.
And anyone who knows me can vouch for it:
I am not a dog person.

I was never a dog hater but I was one those . . .
that preferred cats.

There I said it.

Hate me if you have to.

I mean if Dogwood Girl (speaking of bonafide, crazy dog loving, dog kissing girls) isn't going to care that she might have pissed off her life long crush and all her friends from high school then I am not going to care for being known as not a dog lover.

Just to be clear, I am not a hater.

Just not all that passionate about dog.

I thought though if maybe I had a dog all my own I might get it. You know, why people are so crazy about dogs. Why they don't think they are stinky and annoying.
I mean I get the whole puppy is cute thing but then they get big and stinky and they have all this hair and they chew on your stuff and you can't take them every where so then you have to worry about what you are going to do with your dog. I mean. Dogs? Are a lot of work.

My kids though LOVE dogs. They go up to strangers wanting to pet their dog and they like to talk about dogs and say things like: "Mommy! I just saw my first real life Yorkie!" Or, "Mommy. Chihuahuas? Chihuahuas take tiny poopies. We should get one."

I mean it is look at this dog or aw, look how cute that dog is--when really, the dog is NOT cute at all. But my kids are totally gaga for all dogs.

So I consented to a dog but it had to be a dog of my choice. Crazy as it sounds I like big dogs. I just don't see the point of a little dog. I mean if you are going to get something that size you should get a cat. But alas, I am very allergic to cats. Ask Fishstick's cat:

That picture is what happens to my eyes after I touch the cute kitties.

My choice in a dog was a Husky. Huskies are not for everyone but first and foremost the are pretty. I know. That just makes you hate me even a little more. I don't like ugly dogs. Whatever. Go join PETA.

So, I had to have a pretty dog. I mean if you are on the fence about dogs anyway looks really do count. Second I wanted a dog that could run with me and could run far. Third I had to have a dog I am not allergic to. I seem to be allergic to Goldens, Labs, Chows, and Sharpei's. But for some reason I know Huskies and Malamutes don't bother me. Which is totally bizarre considering the amount of hair they shed but my parents had both a Husky and a Malamute and I never had issue with them.

So we have Lola!

I do love Lola. She has come so far and as Huskies go she is an awesome dog.

But she is A LOT of work. A LOT.

She does make the kids happy and she is good and she is a great running partner but I still don't get the whole dogs make you all melty inside thing.

Until today. I think the experience was akin to when the Grinch's heart grew--or was it melted--whatever, you get the point. I, moi, was almost at the dog melting point.

Wow. Are you still with me?

Okay, so this morning the kids were downstairs eating their breakfast and Lola was barking. Huskies don't usually bark. They chatter, whine, howl and yelp but bark isn't something they really do. So when Lola barks something is up.

I yelled down to the kids to leave the poor dog alone and eat their breakfast. Kids claimed innocence but were still cackling away as if they were up to no good and Lola was still barking like there was an intruder.

So I yelled again. At Beau. As he is usually the Lola instigator. He and the dog have a very special relationship.

I come downstairs to see what all the barking is about and apparently Lola is totally freaked out by Beau's homework. I bet she wanted to eat it.
What homework?

This homework:

Beau had to decorate a little Beau for his kindergarten class. It has a photo collage all over it.

So of course he had a bit of fun with Lola.
I mean this was like bad kitty boy Thor (may his bad kitty soul rest in peace) and his irrational fear of the blue coat hanger. I mean how could you not chase her around the living room with the Beau doll?
No animals were harmed in the making of this blog post.

Look, here she is. She is laughing:

Easy Like a Sunday

Wait a second. It is Sunday.
Today was an easy day.

Of course, I would rather it wasn't but, sigh, it had to be.

You know, the leg--eye roll.

The leg actually feels fine but I decided today I would not run. I have run a little, sometimes even a lot, everyday for 3 weeks. So I think it is time to see if a day off will help the old sticks.

And see.

I listen.

Pam, I think it was, and possibly someone else, suggested yoga. Really, I don't like yoga.

Wait, let me be more specific. I don't mind the actual doing of yoga; I just don't like yoga classes. You know, yoga classes where you are asked to free your mind and focus on the "breath."

Shrug, I guess I like my exercise to be a little more intense. Not to mention, if I am being honest, I get a little competitive in the yoga class. First I think that is just part of my make up--whether I like it or not I am a competitive person.

Second, I blame gymnastics. I mean, we spent the first part of every practice stretching. I mean we spent the first part of every practice seeing who could twist themselves into the tightest pretzel while doing a middle split. And I gotta say, for what I lacked in talent and experience I definitely made up for in flexibility. And, yes, it was about the only part of practice where I shined. Yes, stretching. We won't even talk about my beam performances.

Today's yoga class wasn't so terrible because it wasn't one of those yoga instructors who insist on pretending they are a yogi and say all those Hindu phrases. This girl powered through the moves without a lot of commentary or once reminding me to find my breath. I definitely appreciated that.

And I excelled at the poses that involved core power or twisting the upper body into awkward positions. But man. I was taken down a few notches with anything that required me to engage a hip flexor or hamstring. Definitely tons of room for improvement there.

I know I shouldn't be surprised as running is notorious for shortening the leg muscles but I still thought I would at least be middle of the road and not like the tall men in class. You know the ones. The ones who hide in the back corners of the class and grunt and moan through every pose. Just goes to prove you can't bank on your natural flexibility forever. Use it or lose it. And, I have lost it.

But, again yay me on the superior quad, back and upper body strength. Those push-ups? Child's play. The instructor said, "Okay, we are going to do 50 of these!" And I was like, yeah whatever.Everyone else audibly groaned. Then she said "Kidding! We are only doing 10." Easy peasy.

We'll see how much I regret the class tomorrow.

But yes. I definitely should make an effort to go on a regular basis and you know, not like twice a year and then I might see some improvement. Heck, with some effort I might even be able to medal again in the she who is most flexible category. At the very least I might not have so many issues with my legs.


After yoga I hit the pool for an easy swim. Just 30 minutes continuous swimming. I had thought I might try a harder workout with some drills but for some reason the pool was so freaking hot it made me want to throw up at my easy pace. Not to mention I felt a little jelly like from the yoga. Ha! Jelly fish.

After the gym I had to find something to do with the kids today (Ryan is still tiling). So after a shower and some lunch we headed over to the Leita Thompson trail for a hike.

I love to run on this trail. It is very well maintained and though a bit gravely, definitely less treacherous than some of the others in the area.

So that is what all the pictures are about. I took pictures to assuage my frustration at not running.

Of course, I still had the kids with me; who as kids couldn't resist running up and then sliding down the biggest pile of dirt they could find.
You know. The kids who got in a fight over whose turn it was to hold Lola's leash.

The kids, one of who had a screaming fit in the middle of the trail because it was no longer his turn to hold the leash. Then, because it was Lola's fault he threw a rock at her. And then the same kid who had the fit, whose turn it wasn't and threw the rock, walked the last .25 mile yelling at me that he WAS!NOT!GOING!TO!HIS!ROOM!.

Meanwhile the other kid-- the one who clearly needs her bangs trimmed (hint hint Pookie)-- I mean, the one whose turn it was to hold the leash, pointed out that since she was so good could she pretty please have hot cocoa and cookies upon our return while her brother was being punished in his room? Because, you know, she was good and not naughty and waited patiently for her turn. So she? She deserved cookies and hot cocoa. For being good.

And then the kid who was to be punished screamed and cried even louder that he WAS!NOT!GOING!TO!HIS!ROOM! And that he also wanted cookies and hot cocoa. Because he? He was not naughty. And he? He told Lola sorry.

The dog just wanted it all to be over.

As I said, easy like a Sunday.

And, obviously, it depends on who's Sunday we are talking about.

21/0. The streak continues. Of course my trip to the orthopedist will probably bring it to a screeching halt tomorrow.

Do a little dance, sing a little song, get dog tonight . . .

So the kids entertained Ryan and I with one of their many shows tonight.

A show is a semi regular occurrence around here. Carmella is always the director. Beau is the showcased talent. There is always a rehearsal and most often Ryan and I don't know a show is going to happen until we are recruited to come sit on the couch with our drinks to watch the show.

All shows involve Beau not following Carmella's script. Then what follows is Carmella getting very upset that her artistic vision is not being properply realized or worse, she'll make a mistake--despite having a carefully written out list with songs, script and choreography all planned out. While she fumes and fusses and directs; Beau hams it up at her expense. Inevitably Carmella becomes the disgruntled misunderstood director and a fight ensues with the talent. By that point the audience has had enough and both tyrannical director and loose cannon talent are promptly shuffled off to bed.

Tonight's show was no different.

Let me preface this with that Ryan and I are both regrettably very unmusically gifted.

Me probably more so.

And sadly, I've actually tried. I took a guitar class in high school. Lucky for me your grade was mostly based on written tests and so I still managed a good grade. The teacher (--I can't recall his name, maybe Mr. Moody???) told me on one of my guitar playing tests "I don't know why it sounds so wrong since you are hitting the chords right but something is very off." Though I am not known as one of the most astute people readers even I could tell it was painful for him to sit through my blues five finger strum. Me though? I thought it sounded fantastic.


If musical talent was based on exposure to music then my kids would be savants as they are not wanting for musical toys: ipods, cds, radios, microphones, bongos (thanks Aunt Pookie!), recorders, toy piano and each kid has their own acoustic guitar. Heck, we even have a Karaoke machine(scary, I know).

Truth is folks, no matter how much money you spend, you can't buy musical talent.

But don't worry. I'll still spread the love and share some of the outtakes of the performance.

And I will say, if you can understand Beau I think he shows real promise as a song writer. And well, Carmella, without a doubt. I think Caramel Christmas Tree is the next big hit. She has others but I made her save the Tea by the Tree for another evening.

First up a duet: The Candy Cane


Not sure why Beau won't face the "audience." Probably to annoy Carmella.

A solo performed by Beau: I like Spiderman


The Caramel Christmas Tree, by Carmella

"Eat soiled fish. With caramel on it." Mmmmm . . .


Lola seemed to feel left out so I taped her too. You can see how well we have her trained. Be sure to watch this one all the way through.


In other news my running is much improved over last week's sad one day of running and totaling 8 miles for the week. I believe that is an all time low for me. This week I am feeling much better and got in several days of running between 4-7 miles and finished up at 34 miles for the week. I also got in a bike ride with Steph. Not sure how long. Probably about 30 miles.

Alleluia!

Hark the herald angels sing school is back in session.

Yesterday was Carmella's very first day of first grade. Check out my big girl and her big girl desk--cubby and all. Pencil pouch and her very own scissors. Wow. I, have a first grader.

Beau started prek today. I became Ryan's secretary and spent my day running errands and becoming very acquainted with the fax machine. I even wore the proverbial much too short skirt for my new position. This was, of course, after I had run 10 miles.

Yesterday Carmella was very cooperative about the first day pictures and even asked me to walk her to her classroom. She did have a lot of supplies to take in. (And getting said supplies involved a scavenger hunt. I'll spare you the details since others have already been privy to my pre-sharpened #2 pencil ranting).

But she quickly grew tired of me and my little camera.

Once I entered the classroom she got really mad and was ever so politely whispering for me to leave. I pretended not to hear her. Tehe.

She finally reached the point where she flat out refused to look at me. So I went onto chat up her class mates and introduce myself as "Carmella's Mommy" and ask them about their summer and if they liked ponies or batman. Carmella shot invisible lasers out of her eyes at me.
Then Beau and I went across the hall to talk to our neighbor's child. He was not embarrassed of us and a few kids from Carmella's class last year even said hi to us.
This morning, Carmella was quite clear about me just dropping her off and not coming into the school.

After we dropped Carmella off yesterday Beau was, of course, pissed off that his school wasn't starting. He spent the morning making a million messes, dressing in weird get-ups and playing "house" with Lola.

While I vainly tried to clean and do laundry I learned that Beau's version of playing "house" is a lot different than Carmella's.

Carmella was devastated when she came home from school. She scolded Beau for hurting the dog and immediately collected all markers, crayons, pencils and pens and hid them. Beau now has to ask Carmella for even a pencil and she makes him hide in the linen closet while she goes to her writing utensil super secret hiding place and gets him one. And Beau doesn't even argue or question it.

This morning Beau was very excited about his first day. So we, of course, did the first day pictures again for him.
He had to first run around the yard really fast. This was probably the first time since camp that he put his tennis shoes on. He explained that needed to make sure he was still fast in them. Apparently this is important.
I had to drop Carmella off first and then Beau so he was pretty mad about that but got over it when we got to the "Happy School"--what he calls his school. Such an optimist this kid.
Beau was thrilled to see his buddy Parker and rushed over to give him a hug and tell him all about is new notebook-- I had to buy him one because Carmella needed one. Parker, however, could have cared less about the notebook but was glad to see Beau.
And immediately he was too busy building something and making new friends to be bothered to even say goodbye to me. So no tearful drop off's for me. And that, is a good thing.

Here's to happy and smart school year guys!

Mommy, smell my breath . . .

Growing up I use to call my sister a yucky dog girl because she would let our husky Bob lick her face. It totally disgusted me.

Lately, Beau's newest charming boy thing to do has been coming up to me and asking me to smell his breath. He does this after he brushes his teeth, after he eats Cheetos, after a lollipop, and various other tasty treats.

The past few days the new one he has said, after I stick my nose way too close to his mouth, is that Lola kissed him. I've sort of ignored him and not thought too much about it. I just figured that Lola licked his face and he thought I could smell her puppy-quickly-becoming-dog-breath on his face.

Uhm, no.

Apparently Beau and Lola are closer than I ever imagined.

And with that I leave you. The kids and I are off to the beach for a few days. Ryan, a little too happily, is staying behind. I'm not sure exactly who it is that is getting the vacation but my suspicions say it is not me. . .

PS. Regarding recover-ING: I got in 50 mpw of running (one of those runs was a 7 mile run in 53 minutes!) and 2 35 minute sessions on the elliptical and 3 days of upper body weights---I do have to put on a bikini next week you know so the abuse was necessary but tomorrow is a well deserved day off.

The Subtle Power of Suggestion

Good God! Is it bedtime yet?

Me--rolling dice-- come on bedtime . . .

What. A. Day.

Nothing too out of the ordinary but please, really, let me be the guinea pig for ya and you just take my words as wisdom and not make the same mistakes that I do.

Specifically, do not. Do. Not. Take a 3 year old, a 5 year old (and her baby doll that is the size of a 5 month old because you will end up carrying it) and a 3 month old Husky to Petsmart.

We are talking serious trials and tribulations-- with consequences and repercussions.

First, there's Beau. Beau, who we all know is just so friendly and so outgoing that really; there are no strangers. And then there all the animals, reptiles, fish, and birds in cages and he just loves them all. Along with all the accessories for the animals, reptiles, fish and birds that he can find human uses for. Good fun, really, it is--for him.

Then there is Carmella who is good and listens but she gets caught up in all of Beau's joy and wonder but then realizes that is not the straight and narrow way. She waffles. The whole time. And Beau? Well, you are either with him or against him. So basically there are lots of little Beau and Carmella wars. You can't blame Beau for being confused because Carmella really should pick a side and stick with it (and for my sake I hope eventually it will be mine.)

And then there is Lovely Lola the Husky. It is like going out with a celebrity. Everyone must adore, fawn over and ask me a gazillion questions about her as if I look like I actually have the time to answer them when what I really need to be doing is finding 3 year old who as yet again gone off to look at the iguana or Mommy! Mommy! Look! They have cats here! CATS!!!!!

Oh yeah, and then there is the ever helpful Petsmart employees who stalk you-- just waiting to upsale you if you even seem the slightest bit naive or perplexed on anything concerning Puppy. (And OHMYGOD! Is that a Husky Puppy or is it a Malamute? Really, is this how it is with dogs? People are crazier about puppies than they are about babies.)

I am getting wise to them though--the Petsmart employees that is. But I swear,Petsmart is just like Target. I can barely make it out of there for less than $100 and all I went in for was dog food! Somehow, now I am the proud owner of sparkly pink 6' leash (she already has 3 leashes--but not a 6 ' leash) and matching collar, a pink harness and an ID tag and some fun new puppy toys (her toys are rivaling the kids collection). If it had been left up to Carmella Lola would also have 8 new sparkly outfits to match her fancy new collar, harness and 6'leash. Big business, this puppy stuff.

So yeah, an hour later we were outta there!

Anyway, what the heck was this post about? Oh yeah, "The Subtle Power of Suggestion!"

As I am writing this the kids just came past me Conga-lining and Can-can-ing and singing "ChachachachaCHA ChachachacCHA!" Seriously,am I being taped for an episode of the Surreal Life? And, really, is it bedtime yet??? Please. . . .

Well, those Petsmart people got nothing on me. Listen to this: You guys know about Beau's speech problem, right? Well his speech therapist last year recommended giving him fish oil. Just trust me that I researched it and it is pretty valid. Regardless of that get this: Three days after I gave it to him he started speaking in sentences and adding at least 5 new words a day--prior to that he was only saying maybe 60 words total and had no sentences--just some phrases-- and his word accumulation was painfully slow. So, magic elixir or just coincidence? I have no idea but he does seem to make improvement when I give it to him whereas he seems to plateau without. At the very least it is not going to hurt him and it has helped his eczema (which Carmella also use to have). I give it to Carmella too.

So what does this have to do with the power of suggestion?

Okay, well, for adults the fish oil comes in caplets but for young children it only comes in liquid. They try to cushion the foulness by mixing the fishy taste with a berry flavor but really I can't imagine anything more disgusting than codfish and strawberries. You read right--"imagine" because I personally have never tasted it--I do have that fin fish allergy, you know. But Ryan has taste tested and verified that the combination is as gross as it smells and sounds.

So here is where the power of suggestion comes in:
My kids LOVE it.

Why?

I tell them it is Batman juice. I also tell them it will make them strong and the smartest kids in the whole world. Ever. They actually beg me for it and fight over who gets it first. They even say it is the best tasting thing ever--Carmella said it was better than chocolate. And this is coming from 2 kids who stand at the seafood counter at Publix and loudly proclaim how much they hate "beach food" and how stinky and gross it is.

New Format and Puppy Girl Update

Following in the blogsteps of Anne and Steph I updated and changed my blog template. I also added AdSense. If you click on the ads I get to make a little money. Money that could fund things like Boston 2008, a kicky new skirt, and other cool races and cute running attire. Thank you in advance should you choose to click. And even if you don't thanks for just coming by to read.

Also, as requested, are recent Lola pictures. She is 9 weeks old and already is twice the size she was 3 weeks ago when we got her. I took her to the vet last week and she was 13 1/2 lbs. Funny how she is exactly between what Beau(14lbs) and Carmella(13lbs) weighed at their 2 month check ups. The vet and I talked about a lot of puppy things and he said I could start running her. I was surprised as I thought it would be a year. But he said short runs and building up over the next year would be fine. She is doing very well on the leash so over the weekend I took her for a 1/4 mile run. She did great and loved it. And it did not wear her out at all. But we will stick with the 1/4 mile jogs for awhile just to be safe. She has gone on a 2 mile walk and did fine with that. She is endurance puppy.

And I know some of you probably spit all over your keyboard to see her on my bed. I promise you that she definitely does not sleep there. And besides, I gave her a bath yesterday so she is very clean. Also, it seemed only fair that I take her puppy portrait on my bed. That is what I did with Carmella and Beau when they were around the same age.
Carmella 8 weeks

Beau 6 weeks
Next up? The Angel portrait, what else?
(Beau 6months)
(Carmella 11 months)
Coming soon the Angel Puppy Lola.

La la la Lola

As I mentioned here Santa brought Beau and Carmella a puppy for Christmas.

These are some of the pictures from Christmas morning.

What Santa left Beau:

What Santa left Carmella:

What Santa left everyone:



Puppy wakes up Carmella with her howling.


Carmella wakes up Beau and tells him she thinks Santa left them a puppy.

The kids come downstairs and are shocked to see a real live puppy in the living room:

We discuss names.
Carmella suggests Samantha--a good choice but I think Samantha is too common a dog name--not to mention Beau isn't too good with the s sound or tri-syllabic words.
Beau, of course, predictably suggests Parker.
I explain to him the puppy is a girl.
He then suggests Dee Dee.
Dee Dee, he says, is his girlfriend.
Dee Dee is Max and Livi's mom.
Apparently both son and dad think Dee Dee is hot.
They are right, she is.
I suggest Lola-- per Aunt Pookie-- and everyone agrees.
Lola does have a middle name.
If you ask Beau it is Lola Parker Blue.
And if you ask Carmella it is Lola Grace Pink.
And Lola Parker Blue Grace Pink is having absolutely no trouble figuring out who is the Alpha dog around here: