April Fool's Day

A few minutes ago, as I was writing out the check to the kids' daycare, I realized tomorrow is April Fool's Day. "Hey honey!" I yelled out.
Dale: "Yeah?"
Me: "Tomorrow is April Fool's. So if you were plotting your revenge from last year...I'm already on to you."


Let me fill you in. I got Dale SO good last year. I get him good every year, but last year was so good I am not going to do anything this year, because he has just barely recovered.

We are done having kids. It's settled, two is it. A year ago at this time Rowan was 7 months old. What I did was the day before April Fool's, I went to the store and bought a pregnancy test. Then I took it to work with me, had Haley (who actually was preg) turn it positive for me, then took it home and waited to play my joke. Early the next morning (it was a weekend) I got up out of bed, went to the bathroom, came back with the positive test, tossed it to Dale, and crawled back in bed.
Dale: ".....what is this?..."
Me: "What do you think it is?"
Dale: "How in the world? We've been so careful."

The conversation went on like this for a while, and every time I thought I was going to laugh I'd turn my back to him and put my hands up to my face and act like I was really stressed out.

The meanest part of it was I let the joke go along for about 3 hours. I decided to tell him when I saw him sitting on the couch with Bella, and his face was so pale he was actually a shade of green. They were watching Spongebob and the episode was all about April Fool's Day, yet Dale was so distracted he never even made the connection. He was just staring at the TV though you could tell his mind was a million miles away. I then started feeling really bad, and I had to get him out of his misery. So I went and got the test, wrote HALEY across it with a sharpie, and threw it too him. "Take a closer look." I said, "It's Haley's test." Honestly, he was too relieved to even be mad at me. It was a great one.

How are you going to fool your loved one tomorrow?

Signs of Spring

After dinner Dale and I took the kids out for a walk. About 1/3 into it, Bella got tired, so while Dale pushed Rowan in the stroller, I gave Bella a piggyback ride and got in a little extra workout.

Once we got back I was noticing how great the natural lighting out was, so I went in and got my camera with the macro lens and took a few shots of some of our trees.



We have this one little odd plant who's blossoms bend over and face the ground. I don't know what it is called but here's what it looks like:


So I put my camera underneath the plant with the lens facing upwards and took a few shots and here's what came out:

The Jeans

I knew that having a girl would come with it's challenges. I knew that at some point my daughter and I would argue over her choices in clothing. But nobody warned me that it would start in toddler hood.

Often Bella and go around and around over what she will wear for the day. Most of the time, I let her wear whatever she wants; my personal rule being that it's decent and clean and appropriate for the weather. Sometimes she goes to daycare in a cheetah print shirt, a Winnie-The-Pooh skirt, a tiara and rubber boots. That's fine, most of the other little girls there are dressed that way simply because their moms didn't' feel like fighting about it either.

Bella's daycare also has a preschool program, and the other day they had their class pictures. That morning, when I got her up for school, I explained to her that it was picture day and that I had a really cute outfit all picked out for her and that that was what she was going to wear. I was not going to negotiate it. Well, the shirt was ok to her, but she did NOT want to wear the pants. I didn't care, they were my favorite jeans of hers and that was what she was going to wear. She threw a fit, I dressed her anyway, and that was that.

I had my back to her while I dressed Rowan when Bella said, "Uh-oh, mom. I peed a little bit." I turned to see she had strategically wet her pants, not enough to gross herself out, but just enough that she knew I'd have to change her.

Have you heard that phrase, you choose your battles? Well, I chose that battle that day, and I decided it was a battle I was not going to loose. I took her pants off of her, stuck them under the faucet and scrubbed out the pee pee with soap, then dried them with my hairdryer and put them back on her.

I was really mad for about a nanosecond, but then secretly, deep down inside, I was actually kind of proud of her. She was clever enough to think her way out of a predicament. It was then that I knew I wouldn't have to worry much about her making her way in the world. That's my girl!

Hold The Foam, Please

I was recently chatting with a good friend of mine, and our conversation turned towards how we like our morning coffee. I said I get a latte pretty much everyday, and sometimes I order it extra foamy. He then told me the foam reminds him of spit. I was horrified and completely grossed out.

Now I can't get it out of my head.

What's Up With That?

I woke up this morning to a light dusting of snow. Then it showed again this afternoon. It snowed another time between today and my last post talking about snow. It's official. I'm in the Twilight Zone.

Here's a pic of one of our fruit trees IN BLOOM (as it should be, it is spring) with snow on it.

Bella's First Teeth Cleaning

Back when Bella was 2 and I was on maternity leave, I took her down to my office to clean her teeth (attempt, anyway). She wanted no part of it. She wouldn't even sit in the big chair.

Recently, I brought it up to her and explained that if you get your teeth cleaned, then you get to go to a treasure chest to pick out a prize. This sounded like a sweet deal to her, so I scheduled her an appointment for a few weeks out. Then I had to endure her asking me every morning "Is this the day I get my teeth cleaned?" Well, finally today was the day I was able to say Yes!

Dale brought her down and took pictures while I did everything. I was really impressed with my little Bella-Bear. She did great! At the end, Dr. Bowers helped her choose 2 prizes from the treasure chest.

Bella's Haircut

So this morning, Dale asked me to cut his hair. When Bella heard this, she shouted "I want a hair cut too!! Just like Emily's!" Emily is her friend from daycare, who has the cutest hair. Cool. I was game! Before she could change her mind, I grabbed the scissors and went to town. She loved how it turned out. Looks cute, huh?

BEFORE

AFTER

Chehalis Western Trail

Since the weather was decent enough to do a bike ride today (and by "decent" I mean not snowing, yet still cold enough to) we packed up the kids and hit the Chehalis Western Trail. We did 45 miles. In the past, Dale has always been the one to pull the kids in their little trailer. It's something I'd always considered a "dad job", so I never volunteered to do it. It looked like hard work. This was Dale's first official ride with his new bike, and when we arrived at the trail head he happily informed me that this new bike of his didn't have the right hookups for the trailer, and it was now officially my job! I thought to myself...Ok, put on your big girl panties and get it done...

So as we rode along, I'll admit- Dale's bragging about his new bike did get a little old. This is actually what he said to me "Honey! My new bike is AMAZING!! I barely have to push on the pedals and look how fast I'm going!" And to that I replied, "That's great! Hey- don't let me slow you down! I'll just back here pulling an extra 75 pounds that I'm not used to!"

We rode all the way to Tenino, where the trail ends at a park. We ate lunch and let the kids run around and play. Once we finished, we packed up and left. About halfway back, the kids started fighting in the trailer. I actually yelled back at them to stop fighting or I'd pull that bike over! Well, they didn't stop, and Bella was bawling, so we pulled over. We were like, "Bella- What's wrong? What happened? Why are you crying?" More crying, and harder crying, but no answer. Dale and I were starting to get short with her. "BELLA! Why are you crying?!" Then I insensitively told Dale- "Whenever she pulls this at home I just ignore her, and eventually she'll come around." Then, as Dale and I stood there like deer in the headlights, Bella puked. EVERYWHERE.

Allow me to go off onto a tangent here...I hate puke. I actually have a full-on phobia of it. I don't want to be the puke-ee, be around the puke-er, see it, smell it, hear it, nothing. It is disgusting, and I hate it. It is the sole reason that I am not a nurse.

In that moment, as the threw up all over the inside of that little trailer, something donned on me: I don't get to be afraid of puke anymore. I am a mother now, and I don't get to choose to run away from barf. I have to drop this phobia, and drop it right now.

We were 15 miles from our car, out in the middle of the woods, and the only means to clean up Bella, Rowan and the inside of the trailer was a little travel pack containing 5 baby wipes. Ugh!

Luckily, I had already taken all the pictures.

Since Dale never misses an opportunity to tease me or make fun of me, he did then point out that the kids have been perfectly fine on the countless rides he has taken them on, yet the first time I pull their trailer, Bella gets motion-sick.

I Thought It Was Spring

Yesterday morning I was walking down the hallway to get the kids up when I passed the window and thought to myself, Hmmm, it's really frosty out. Then I did a double take. It had freaking snowed again. WTF? Technically, it is Spring. Snow belongs in WINTER!!!

That Last Post

What's up with my last post? I spent an hour trying to post and correctly place one of the pictures, never did get it right...

Seattle Bicycle Expo

This morning got up early, loaded up the car, stopped at Starbucks, and hit the road for the Seattle International Bicycle Expo. It was held at the cruise ship terminal, which I had imagined to be a pretty cool place (since the Disney one is over-the-top) but this one was more warehouse-ish, but worked just fine for today's event.

Since we had to leave really early and Dale and I were both really tired, Bella volunteered to drive for us. She's such a good girl...........Ok, no one take me seriously, please.

It was a great place to do things like get some awesome deals, eat samples of the latest energy foods, and my personal favorite, people watch. Dale and I were laughing to eachother over the "riders culture". You know the type- Organic granola eaters who's Subaru Outbacks are adorned with a Yakima bike rack and a "Keep Tahoe Blue" sticker.

I found some sweet deals on riding attire and bought a few pairs of padded shorts and a couple jerseys.





But Bella wanted me buy this one... (Could I not have cleaned the chocolate off of her mouth before the picture??)

I threatened Dale that I was going to get a basket for the front of my bike and put a bell on it. A basket, no, but I really am getting a bell much to Dale's embarrassment. I asked him how else am I supposed to alert all the riders that I am passing? Hahaha...like I'll be doin a lot of passing...
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Dale found a great deal on a Trek Madone 5.0. He is pretty darn excited about it, but not thrilled we didn't get to take it home with us today. I can just see us now on the STP. Dale on his Lance Armstrong bike, riding like the wind, and me on my Schwinn, pushing my bike, gasping for air, and using my bell to signal SOS. It should be a blast!

What The Heck Have I Agreed To?

Have I completely lost it? I'll answer that for you...yes. In January, Dale and I registered for the STP and made it official. In July, we will join 8998 other bicyclists to ride 204 miles from Seattle to Portland (hence the abbreviation STP). Every time I think about it, I get a little hot flash. Each day, I get on my bike and ride my little brains out, so I will be able to complete this mammoth task.

Oh wait, it gets better. Here's where the crazy part comes in...

I get this email this morning from my awesomely great, marathon-running friend Courtney in Maryland:

OK...

Man up Jess, it's BALLS TO THE WALL time. Are you ready to take on something FIERCE? Are you ready to be strong and fit and confident and make people go "damn, that Jess is a bad ass!"

Registration has started for the Nike Women's Half & Full Marathons. And I want YOU in it! Eh! Eh! Eh! Don't EVEN start making mental excuses just yet! HEAR ME OUT...

Unfortunately, they are only doing a random drawing for all slots. You have to register by the 18th of March, give them all your info, your credit card #, then they have a random drawing and on April 1st you find out if you are one of the lucky ones picked to PAY to run your ass off. Sound like fun?

Here are my thoughts... you're hip, you're in shape, you ride your little bike all the time and have developed strong legs. Biking is actually REALLY good for runners because it strengthens your hamstrings and quads which support your knees. Anyway, I think you're ready for this challenge. I think you're ready to be a BAD ASS MOM who marathons.

The half and full marathons start at the same spot and run together until Mile 11 when they split off. So even though I am doing the full marathon, if you did the half I could run with you for 11 miles. You would only have to get through the final 2.1- piece of cake.

Besides... seriously... don't you want that coveted TIFFANY & CO. necklace as a finishers medal. Oh wait- delivered by FIREFIGHTERS in TUXEDOS. Simma down Dale- we all get to have our dreams!

So anyway... I think you should leave it up to fate and register and see if you get in. Whatcha think sista?

--
Courtney

Because I am oh-so-easily-persuaded (a "sucka" as I've been called), I've agreed to do it. Conditionally. I will only do the half marathon, because in my mind it is categorized like this:

Running 13.1 miles- Do-able
Running 26.2 miles- Crazy

Also, I am leaving it to chance. It will be a lottery-type registration process, because apparently the city of San Francisco isn't big enough to accommodate all of the women who want to participate...??? So if my name is drawn, I'll do it. If my name isn't drawn, I'll spend that day on my couch eating bon-bons watching Real Housewives of Orange County.

I think next I'll take up yoga...