Queen B

Archive for the ‘Nothing to it but to do it’ Category

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The field trip

In Nothing to it but to do it, Punishment for what?, The little roomies on April 17, 2011 at 10:53 pm

I do not do field trips.  The primary reason being that I have motion sickness.  If you suffer from motion sickness, busses are bad.  Very, very bad.  Prior to this last week, I have volunteered for exactly ONE off property school field trip.  I was so miserable, I swore it would be my last.  That was in 2002.

The secondary reason being that other people’s children are out to get me, and should not be left in my care.  I am not one to be trusted with the responsibility of keeping track of any more than two children at a time.  Maybe that’s the real reason I have two children.  You’ll have to decide on your own if that’s the case.

No one cared about my motion sickness, nor my inability to keep track of children when MY HUSBAND volunteered and subsequently backed out of my dear daughter’s field trip to the Chicago Museum of Science and Industry last week and I was left to resolve the quivering lower lip of said daughter.  She who has never, ever had a parent chaperone on a field trip.  In her whole life.

This is how I came to find out that if I sit over the wheels of the bus I can last about 1 hour before a headache sounds the motion sickness early warning system.  Thankfully, I held it together because this ride was an hour and a half.  This is also how I found out that child wrangling is best achieved by adults who are actually taller than the children they are wrangling.  Damn, there’s no fixing that.  This was when I realized that children don’t care one lick about weather, nor about the list of questions their teacher put me in charge of making sure they could answer related to the weather exhibit.  My six little bullies made no bones about it, they were not interested. Unfortunately, this is where I witnessed first-hand the drama that is girls of the fourth grade.  Hate it.

This is where I saw my girl in her natural habitat.  And she was so, so happy just because I was there.

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No children were lost or harmed in the making of this special day.

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Best cure

In Healthy shmealthy, Nothing to it but to do it on January 5, 2011 at 7:12 pm

If you were to see me on the street, and ask what the best cure is for….

anger

smoking

stress

weight gain

menstrual cramps

depression

boredom

anxiety

I would answer the same:  running.

I could probably add about a million other things to the list, as well.  I need to branch out, though, because a girl can’t live on running alone.  But who has the time?  No, I don’t do resolutions, but if I did, oh the possibilities…..OH MY GOSH, IF I DID!!!

Anyhow, to track my running I use an iPhone app called Runkeeper.  I was using the free version for a while, until a little bird told me (and I also got an email which I had completely missed in my post New Year celebratory state) that the Runkeeper Pro app was being offered up for FREE through the month of January.  Total.Score.  Normally around $10!

I love (no, LOVE) this app, along with the accompanying website for tracking my activities… well, I should really say activity (not plural) because I am lame and I only use it to track running.  But a normal person who participates in, like, a variety of activities could track them all!

And guess what?  You could be a member of my street team.  Virtually, of course.

If you were nice to me and said please.  Nicely.

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Glutton

In Nothing to it but to do it, Stick a fork in it! on November 22, 2010 at 5:44 pm

I “helped” my daughter make a pumpkin pie yesterday, but my son and I don’t really care for pumpkin pie, so we were sorta sad about it.  His favorite is French Silk, and against all my better judgment I decided that since the girl was getting her favorite, he might as well too.  For good measure, you know.  Fair is fair.

People, if you like French Silk pie, let me tell you that it is worth making it yourself.  For REAL.  Well, either that or I have some untapped and seriously magical pie making talent that just revealed itself yesterday.

What?  It could happen!

I’m not going to bother with a recipe because you can find about a thousand good recipes online (which is just what I did, Google is your friend), but I will say that I didn’t use a recipe with “raw” eggs.  And EASY?  Grrrrrrl…. it was SOOO easy.  Probably the easiest desert since I made a Hillbilly Dump Cake with a can of blueberry pie filling, a stick of butter, and a Jiffy cake mix.

That’s right, I’m hillbilly.  You just figuring that out?

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Waaah

In Healthy shmealthy, Nothing to it but to do it on November 17, 2010 at 9:24 pm

I reread yesterday’s post and I have to clarify because I sounded like a whiney little high school girl…

Like oh my God… you guys, look at me!  I am so totally FAT!

Here’s the dealio:  I am not in any way convinced that I am obese.  I don’t normally weigh myself, and I won’t be weighing myself regularly in the future.  I know that my body has changed since I started running again, and the number on the scale doesn’t matter nearly as much as the fact that I can fit into my pants again.  Because baby it’s cold outside.

In other news, apparently CC’s stamina has increased, because she is now able to talk the ENTIRE time we’re running.  It’s as if she were standing still!

Yea!

Tonight, for instance, she came up with a plan to talk about a different subject over the course of each lap.  That’s eleven different subjects, people.  They included (but are not limited to) detailed descriptions about how she and every kid she knows mounts and dismounts the monkey bars at school, the life span of the pets of everyone she knows, a blow-by-blow of what happened at recess today, including being kicked and pushed down the slide by a fellow student, what she expects to learn in school for the rest of the week, for the rest of the term, and the rest of her life, changing your perspective in art and how it relates to changing your perspective in life, and a boy named Kale.

I ran fast tonight.

 

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Since September

In Healthy shmealthy, Nothing to it but to do it on November 16, 2010 at 6:31 pm

I can’t believe that we have been on a diet since September 21st.  Actually, yes I can, because just the word DIETING conjures feelings of suffering.  Life without pizza, for me, feels like suffering.  Just for the record.

We have eaten every meal at home or cooked at home save 1 since September 21, 2010.  Last week Tuesday we had a special day (Veterans Day) and decided to get a Chicago style deep dish pizza to go so that I wouldn’t go out of my mind.  We were getting so close to that point I could hardly hide it any more.  I thought about pizza more than you need to know.

I haven’t felt the same since.  NOT in a good way.  I don’t crave pizza so much anymore.

On a related note, I have to share that last I heard my husband has lost a whopping 23+ pounds.  I have gained 6.4.

He walks for exercise.  I run.

Unfortunately, we own a weight AND body fat scale.  For some reason yesterday, I thought that if I measured my body fat I would feel better, because everyone always tries to tell me that muscle weighs more than fat.

Based upon my age, weight, height, and body fat %, I am obese.

And hormonal.

Seriously.

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V is for Victory

In Nothing to it but to do it on November 13, 2010 at 6:45 pm

First of all, I have to announce that my dear darling daughter is now officially a blogger.  She has been researching running and fitness in school for her independent research project, and has selected blogging as her platform for the project.  She is really excited about it, and we are currently sitting across from each other blogging on dueling Macs.  It’s humorous.  You can find her blog in my blogroll or independently under http://KidsRunToo.wordpress.com.  She is excited for readers and comments, so please pay her a visit if you have the chance, and leave a comment if you’re so inclined.  She’s not publishing a feed, so if you want to subscribe it will have to be via email.  Sorry that it is so decidedly LOW tech.

Second, if you do visit her little piece of the web, you will see that we have both used the same post title today.  She wrote her post V for Victory because that is how she’s feeling.  I did the same because that was what she said to me immediately after we finished running today.  Considering we had just finished a 2 mile run, I think it might be the cutest thing I have ever heard.  Girl is PROUD.

Mama, too.

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The man is out to get me

In Nothing to it but to do it, The little roomies on November 8, 2010 at 6:13 pm

I’m in a predicament.  I live in the midwest, and I started a running program with my dear little daughter in the fall.  Granted, it’s still fall, but already I’m getting griping when the weather is less than perfect.  Last week it was sleeting, and dear children wouldn’t set foot outside, even after it had stopped.

I have checked into every possible indoor running option imaginable.  Field houses in far off towns, fitness clubs, running stores, people I KNOW.  Nobody knows of any indoor track that is available for kids to use.  I am looking into starting a kids’ running club through the school, and trying to use the track at the local high school field house.  It’s close to my house.  It’s in district.  It’s a school, so obviously children aren’t considered to be the devil there, or are they?

Obviously, I’m not above using children to get what I want.  The ends justify the means.  Is that the saying?  Maybe not.

Anyhow, I remember loathing that track as a high schooler, btw, but now I believe it may be glorious.  I am trying to be positive, I am trying to be open minded.  I am trying to let go of my feelings about THE MAN who runs that high school being out to get me.  It’s one of the pitfalls of being a townie.

I must admit, however, that I am beyond frustrated.  So far, I have been told that the field house would only be available after 9:00 pm, which tends to be pretty prohibitive when you’re trying to get together a bunch of elementary school students.  I am also told I have to secure private insurance, AND that it will cost $100 in rent per hour of use.

Now, normally, I’m not one of those people who tell cops that I pay their salary as a knee jerk response when I don’t get out of a ticket.   BUT.SERIOUSLY.  Don’t I own that flipping school?!!

Please avert your eyes at this point if you are no longer interested in my rant, because here it comes…

My daughter’s elementary school doesn’t allow the celebration of birthdays with treats as of this current school year.  Why?  Childhood obesity.  That’s right.  Because kids in elementary school celebrate their birthdays with treats, the kids in her school are apparently obese.  I’m not certain that’s the true cause, but still, that’s the explanation.  Don’t think that they can’t celebrate their birthdays at all, because of course they can.  They can celebrate in style by bringing in a GIFT FOR THE SCHOOL, or CLASSROOM (so long as they aren’t edible?).  My daughter only has gym 2 times per week at her school.  Does that contribute to the problem?  Maybe!  Running is technically allowed at recess, so long as you aren’t chasing, giving the appearances of chasing, or of being chased.  I have to assume that that means that running is allowed only when it is obviously willy nilly and independent of any other children.  Sounds fun.  Obesity obviously managed.

Here’s the rub.  I want to VOLUNTEER my time, gather some kids to use a facility that should be accessible to the public ~in my opinion~ and make a difference in the fitness levels of our area children, and I’m getting the Heisman!

It’s the MAN, man!

OK, maybe I just want to get some other people together so that they can help me get into that damned field house for the winter…

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Oh happy day

In Nothing to it but to do it, Stick a fork in it! on November 6, 2010 at 10:43 am

My daily, near constant complaining about the sad state of my oven finally (FINALLY!!) had an affect.  My husband is on his way to the appliance repair shop AS I TYPE to buy a part after some serious internet research.

I’m sure it works great for his diet that I can’t bake, but for me it BITES.

My children have a MOM given right to baked goods.  I had to use the toaster oven last night for mini muffin cookies, and it was a serious FAIL.  My kids only choked them down because they like cookie dough.  It almost made me gag to watch.

I have spoken.

Wish us luck in the igniter department.

P.S. My oven is currently disassembled.  Count on a less jovial post later, if its condition doesn’t improve.

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Is there a doctor in the house?

In Nothing to it but to do it, Punishment for what?, Who comes up with this stuff? on October 24, 2010 at 4:13 pm

Here is something that my kids know about me that maybe someone else’s kids wouldn’t.

If you complain, I will make you pay.  It might seem like fun and games on the surface, but in the end I win, because receiving my help is like making a deal with the devil.  I will work my magic, but there is to be no further complaining when I’m done.  And I mean it.

My friend Maureen’s kids act like they don’t know this.  They really should, they’ve been around me plenty.  Apparently they don’t pay attention to such things.  Case in point:

That’s right.  Silly girl sat down next to me and started complaining loudly that her ankle hurt.  She even hobbled around on one foot for a while for effect.  It doesn’t take long when I’m hung over to send the other kids in every direction to fetch some provisions, like sticks and paper towels and tape, so that I can make everything better.  And, of course, stop the complaining.  Also the hobbling, if I’m lucky.  No, I don’t clean wounds before dressing, obviously.  Yes, I insist upon being the first one to sign every cast.

In this case, I also had to insist that she and all of the other kids call me Dr. Frank for the rest of the weekend.  She was responsible for making her own crutches.  I’m not in manufacturing, I’m a miracle worker!  In addition, I’m not an Opthamologist, so I had to send the next complainer away without treatment.  I was exhausted from the previous procedure.

Also, I had an ankle biter that was after me.  Fully clawed.  It makes delicate eye procedures nearly impossible.


Like attracts like

In Badass Ideas, Nothing to it but to do it on October 14, 2010 at 9:07 pm

Did you ever notice that like attracts like?

Last week sometime  we got a new phone system at work, so now I have caller ID on my work line.  I also have a direct number, which I never had before.  I can give someone my number and they can call my very own phone, or I could give the main phone number and they will be transferred to my line, or parked and picked up from anywhere in the office.  It’s fancy stuff.

A couple of days ago my phone rang and Lynn Weekly popped up on the caller id.  It was fairly early, the first call I’d gotten that morning.  I kind of joked about having caller id.  ’Hmmm, wonder what Lynn Weekly wants this morning!?’ When I picked up, Lynn Weekly was not a lady in the mood for jokes.  I won’t say what company she works for, but I can assure you that I will never, ever do business with that company.  Not if my life depended upon it.  Apparently Lynn Weekly had requested a document.  From ME specifically!  No less than FIVE times.  I am so incompetent, apparently, that I had BLOWN her client’s deal with the lender, and I was to produce said document IMMEDIATELY if not sooner.  That’s when she started barking out information that I had no interest in hearing, whatsoever.

I have to be honest and tell you that it’s not my favorite type of call to get first thing in the morning.

However, when it is blatantly obvious to me that the evil person on the other end of the phone is so obviously wrong in what they are saying… well, I do tend to mess with them just a little bit.  I’m not saying that my blood wasn’t boiling, but it’s a lot more fun when you keep your voice rather cool.  It’s all rather boring drivel to rehash word for word, but basically I called her bluff, and when she couldn’t produce anything to counter (and was clearly not getting her way) she said that she couldn’t deal with my level of incompetence any longer.  I was happy I had the time to reply ‘I agree that there is a great level of incompetence here, but I can assure you that it isn’t coming from me.’ before she hung up on me.

I waited all day for her to realize that she had no idea what she was talking about and call back to apologize.  She never did.  However, her coworker did give me a call, because their problem wasn’t resolved.

She was too chicken to talk to me again?  Crazy.

I explained to him that I had tried speaking with his coworker about their problem earlier.  He claimed to have NO IDEA who she was, that she didn’t work for his company as far as he knew, and he had never heard of her.  Really?!  I let it go, but I did let him know that the document they were referring to was not actually the document they were asking for (if that makes any sense, basically a nice way of saying they had no idea what they were doing), and that they weren’t phoning the correct department.  I’m hopeful that I got the message across.  But nicely.  He responded in kind, and it almost made me feel bad that I had already decided that I was officially boycotting their company forever.

I have a feeling that Lynn couldn’t possibly be a happy person.  How can someone spew such hate without having some of it store up in their psyche, or soul, or heart, or wherever.  There is no way that I could treat someone so poorly, realize that I was completely and utterly WRONG, and then refuse to call to apologize or take responsibility and own up to my ignorance.  There are a lot of people out there who feel justified in treating others like shit, and it is incomprehensible to me.  In this case she called me incompetent when she should have looked in a mirror.  Like attracts like, she drew it to herself.

Today a coworker told me that she was noticing a new spring in my step.  I seemed different.  She liked it, my new vibe.  She said it was infectious and she liked being around me.  She said that I seemed happier, more positive.  As if I was on a different path.  I have some very nice coworkers.  I agree that she’s right, I do feel like I’m on a different path.  I told her that I had decided it was time to quit wallowing in it all and make some changes.  Shake things up a bit.  The Lynn Weekly’s of the world were not going to weigh on me any longer, because I am officially a duck.  She and I made a pact.  We are not going to wallow in it anymore.  It’s our motto, now.  She called it.

Happiness can be contagious, just as misery.  Like attracts like.  I’m done wallowing in it.  You?

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