Afternoons

It's naptime, and the conundrum is again at hand.  What shall I do now that my children are away in their rooms, hopefully asleep?

Obviously today I chose "write blog."  But the options usually include write blog AND

• take my OWN nap
• take a bath
• clean up and clean in general
• embark upon some great project like "toy room purge" or "fold laundry"
• exercise
• prep/cook dinner
• watch some quality child-inappropriate television
• vegetate

The last option rarely gets chosen, because my preferred form of vegetation is to do the option above it (child-inappropriate TV) or to draw myself a blisteringly hot bath and soak my worries away.

If I do opt for the bath, I will predictably overheat myself and end up needing a recovery nap, which refills my soaked-away worries with you-should-be-staying-productive guilt.  If I watch TV, I multitask by either also writing or folding laundry.  Hell, I'm even watching TV now - Breaking Bad goes so much better without the offspring around.

Why am I writing this?  I dunno... because I can't watch Breaking Bad in the tub?

Evil Pinterest

I want to set up another Pinterest account.  It will be the Evil Twin of my regular Pinterest board.  

This account is already a twinkle in my eye.  I have one "board" on my normal, gee-look-she-must-be-a-nice-lady Pinterest account entitled "People To Punch."   Pinterest needs to be taken down a notch, and people need to realize that they are inches away from publically admitting that they're blindingly stupid. There is a relative scale somewhere, upon which rests the BEST CROCKPOT RECIPE EVER and actual useful pins.  If that recipe requires nothing but ranch dressing and cheddar cheese, you can slide it directly down that relative scale into the dumpster.

If you find a pin you've pinned in earnest enthusiasm on my People to Punch board, or see yourself there, or find yourself for any reason eating a White Chocolate Fritos Bar, consider yourself warned: I think you are... mmmm, silly.

My Evil Pinterest will include recipes, home tips, travel ideas, and definitely some fashion.  Oh yes, lots of fashion.

Everything tends to get a little fluid on Pinterest, and it's much more realistic to categorize things as you find them, but considering what's already out there, it might go something like this:

Places You Think Are Real That Were Actually Photoshopped Into Existence

Things You're Too Stupid to Figure Out Yourself (mostly infographics)

Stuff I Would Never, Ever Eat

Nasty Cookie Recipes Involving Rotting Bananas (alternately, How to Waste Chocolate Chips)

Foods YOU Think Are Healthy 

Crock Pot Recipes That Ruin Meat

Don't Invite Me Over (e.g. that great pin on homeopathic yeast infection cures, or Ayurvedic roach repellent, or that fascinating anti-vaccination article by Hippie McDipshit)

Ideas You Too Could Have, If You Actually Thought for 30+ Seconds (tips and tricks, baby!)

Fake Quotes with Pretty Backgrounds (with contributions from the guys who confused Morgan Freeman with Nelson Mandela, perhaps?)

Useless Quotes by Whoever Unknown Is  (People, please stop quoting -Unknown.  He doesn't mind if you just attribute it to yourself.)

For The Love of God, Just Google It!  (screenshots of the ridiculous questions people ask online, apparently unaware of their proximity to multiple search engines)

I Don't Think You Belong Here  (pins showing how to wash your washing machine, deep clean your plunger, snake your own drains, etc)


What would you do with an Evil Pinterest account?

Our Very Merry Mallu Christmas

New to Spampylandia?  Other than musing on motherhood and passive-aggressively complaining about people here, I also have a travel blog, for those occasions when I actually travel:  Caroline in Kerala!
Read about how we spent our Christmas vacation ;-)

I'm a Racist! Oh wait, I mean Racer.

I like running races.

Bla bla, see past posts about it, but I never liked running before.  I fell in with the wrong crowd (meaning, someone generously invited me to join a running group) sometime in 2012 and suddenly found myself pounding out a respectable 10K finish during the Air Force Marathon weekend at Wright-Patterson AFB.

Running was a social outlet (yay, FRIENDS!), an escape from my often-cranky baby (though only sometimes, with the incorporation of the jogging stroller), and a way to not feel like a big fat slob.  But mostly a social outlet, and covering 2, 3 and eventually 9 and 10 miles at dark-thirty of the morning became somewhat of an addiction.

(But, but... I can stop anytime!  Sadly, seriously.  Sometimes the bed feels oh-so-good... and the run gets ignored. But it ALWAYS feels better to go.)

Races make you pay money to do what you enjoy doing with friends for free, but friends don't (usually) give you a medal and a t-shirt, or better yet, a tech shirt and a hat.  Sometimes friends DO give you these things, but that's over wine at a clothing swap and I'll address that marvelous concept in another post later.

I've hit the point where I don't see myself extending my mileage much further past the good ol' half marathon (13.1 miles, or 21.8 kilometers for you metric weirdos), because honestly I've yet to RUN a complete half marathon.  In my 100% experience of having done two whole halves, things go pretty well until mile 10 and then it's all over but the cryin'. Spreading a race into less-formidable chunks is an option, and looking at it as two 10Ks works in theory, but it's much more honest to recognize that I run three 5Ks with a break between each and then walk one and a half more.

My two half marathon finishing photos capture me looking like I'm not even moving.  "Look at that girl, doing the robot in the finish line, while people run around her!  Tell her to move, she's in the way!" What was that all about?  I was very cognizant of the fact that I was most certainly moving, and HAD been moving more than my body had ever propelled itself forward before.  Yet the finish photo suggests that movement being more towards unconsciousness and injury.  My photos suggest I am naught but an obstacle, or a fire hazard.  And more than just because my thighs are rubbing together at a dangerous frequency...

So this year, I have already signed up for two half marathons.  One, the Air Force Half Marathon (again), because it's local and between the 10K and the Half, it's the only time to see about 50% of our running group in one place.  (Yes, that same running group I was once amazed to be invited to join, and now co-admin. Yay me for channeling my enthusiasm positively, eh?)  And then, because I like the concept of running across bridges, the Detroit Free Press Half Marathon International Leg, which runs across the ever-epic Ambassador Bridge into Canada, through a Windsor residential neighborhood along the Detroit River waterfront, and back into downtown Detroit via the Windsor Tunnel.  I am scared to DRIVE through the Windsor Tunnel, so hopefully it will not be too terrifying to run through that drippy mess.  I usually hit my stride around miles 5-6, so that bodes well for being able to zip through that potential death trap in less than 11:20.

11:20?  That's my best mile, officially, of the year.  I was hungover and it was hotter than hell, aptly, at St. Peter's Tiger Trot.  I probably achieved that time, despite hills, because I refused to let this very collegiate-looking blonde chick (she had a sorority tank top on, COME ON!) beat me.  We raced to that finish line like a keg was depending on it. Finally I beat her lithe ass, only to later congratulate her and hear "yeah, this was, like, my first time runnaaaaang, ahmigawd, it's so fun!"  ARRRGGGGH!  But a win is a win, and Mama won.

So while Mama ain't runnin' any full marathons this side of 2030, she is going to keep fighting the good 13.1 mile fight, and see if we can't get down towards, dare I say a 2:30? 2:15?  It's achievable.  I'm enjoying the ownership of a brand new piece-of-crap treadmill (thanks a LOT, NordicTrac!!), reading Train Like a Mother, and I've spent enough money in race registrations over the past 48 hours to realize this is a hobby to which I really must attend.

In 2014, the goal is to look like I'm moving in the finish photos.  Yeah baby!

The New Year

Happy 2014, Spampylandia.  And also Caroline in Kerala, as I'll be cross-posting anything remotely relating to both.  I actually slept through the New Year's Eve countdown, only waking to hear our neighbors shell their neighbors shoot off fireworks.

Some goals for 2014:  

Have fewer goals ;-)

But seriously:

• Actually blog, even if it seems futile... it won't be! http://ultimateblogchallenge.com
• Move towards a healthier eatin' lifestyle (more on this later, as we already eat pretty healthy - we need to hash out some interesting options and assess priorities)
• Get a Wiggles piano book and learn to play all my kids favorite songs (see? priorities!)
• Use my passport for something more than registration for the Detroit Freep International Half Marathon.  (Like how I snuck that in there? Odds are good we'll spend Christmas in Kerala for 2014, but it's also important to note that I'm already signed up for two half marathons this coming fall, one of which runs between the US and Canada. Yay me!)  
• Finally learn the correct "it's/its" usage.  Possessive?  I get the contraction for "it is" but when it's mine?  Or its mine?  Spampylandia's confused about Spampylandia's grammar. (always good to throw a freebie on the ol' resolution list)
• Use my time more wisely.

New year as a concept lost some rosy glow in 2013; it kicked off a chain of events that ended with my mom's diagnosis with terminal cancer.  The first half of last year was very emotionally taxing.  In May, Mom passed in relative peace and I think we've all learned a lot from the whole experience - dealing with uncertainty, illness, saying goodbye, death, grief, and moving forward.  

So adios for now, and more later.  Much more later.