I have to say, Spring Break doesn't have quite the sparkle it used to as a college kid. Now, loyal Clemson girl readers, fret not. I won't divulge the secrets of Spring Breaks past. No talk of Cancun or "You're not my Mama!" or the spring break I didn't go on.
As an official member of The Grown Up Club and a mommy, Spring Break is a time of rest and not doing laundry or anything else that resembles work for an entire week. This year, I opted to start my Spring Break a day early.
Some of my A-town girlfriends decided it'd be great fun to take a weekend trip to Charleston to run in the Cooper River Bridge Run. We left Friday in the MV -- which comfortably seated all 7 of us, thank you very much. We made it down to pick up our packets at the expo -- and I will say the MV is impressively quick -- we snatched a ROCK STAR! parking space right out from under a waiting car's nose... and who's going to argue with a mini-van full of moms?
That's what I thought.
Anyway, we stayed at a friend's condo, so we loaded up a grocery cart at the local Piggly Wiggly and made dinner together -- yummy spaghetti and bread and strawberry shortcake -- in preparation of Saturday morning's race.
Now, one of my friends is an honest-to-God marathoner... like, qualified and is running Boston this year. Another is a consistent runner. The other three of us who ran are more... recreational runners... as in when other people decide to take a girls trip, we decide to run so we can go. :)
Ok, so everybody has apparently done more preparation for this than me... My training consisted of a few days of conditioning with my team and one lone day of running around the track.
Reasons I Will Never Make a Serious Runner:
1) You have to get up too bleepity-bleep early.
Who made up the rule that all good running happens while you should still be asleep? We had to get up at 5 am for this race. I am, of all things, NOT a morning person. We don't have meaningful conversation in the AM at our house. I certainly don't run during this time. Good grief.
2) I have no pain tolerance.
I asked my epidural before my labor pains even completely registered on the little meter thing. Who likes feeling like her lungs are on fire while simulataneously wanting to vomit and spit? Does that mean you're healthy?
3) I have no will power.
Now, I did finish #18,950 out of 50,000, so I didn't do terrible. I ran less than a 15 minute mile, which was my goal. (Those of you who run for real can kiss my watooskie if you're laughing.) I ran one day for this race, and I finished in the top half. I'm not ashamed.... but I will say that I was beaten by a 6-month pregnant woman (you go, Donelle!) and a woman with a bad knee (a shout out to Jamie!). They finished about 4 seconds ahead of me because I was about to die. Had it not been for them, I would've been walking long before I got to the finish line... and probably have finished somewhere around 49,999th place...
4) It requires dedication.
My friend Arden was telling us about her "long run" (like, 572 miles) the Saturday before where she realized about twenty into it that she had the dreaded stomach virus that turns your insides to mush... and she kept running! What?!?! At sign 1 of any sort of bowel issues, I'd be locked up in the nearest (and cleanest) potty, calling K for a quick ride back to the hiz-ouse. Of course, that's why she's running Boston, and I'm sucking wind two miles into a 5K.
Despite my OCD desire to excell in everything I do, I've come to terms that the only way I'll be a successful runner is if someone creates a race that ends at an all-you-can-eat southern cooking buffet...
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Monday, April 09, 2007
Slow...
I'm really slow these days. No posts in almost a month. My bad.
Just came off of spring break... having a little trouble functioning at the moment.
I will say that I spent a day with my Clemson girls and the kids. Now, there are five of us, and when we had a few wee ones romping around, it was nothing to go out for a meal or to take a drive to the beach.
This year, we started talking about reviving the beach trip tradition. We've been going somewhere for the past few years but decided to take last year off because I had just birthed a baby and my friend Meges was about to have her first, so we didn't want to take any chances. We are all, by trade, teachers and not nurses, so for MiMi to go in labor while at the beach would've been disastrous... Not to mention that Megan is our main source of entertainment, so if she wasn't willing to jump around and sing "The Bonkey Song" at 8 months pregnant, the trip just wasn't going to work.
Oh, and I was in a foul mood most of the summer from lack of sleep and lack of a husband, who was out of town on business, so I wouldn't have been great company anyway.
So, we decide at Christmas to hop back on the beach bandwagon and look for some cool little hideaway to house... Are you ready for this?!?
5 adults
4 children between 4-5
1 almost 3 year old
1 almost 2 year old
1 just turned 1 year old
2 babies under 1 year
Surprise! No one wants us at their beach house! All of the beach houses that would technically fit us cost a zillion dollars per night to rent... and did I mention that we're all teachers by trade? Thanks -- lots of intellectual conversation... not so much in the moneybags...
After much searching and emailing people with more money than me who can afford a mortgage and a beach house, we found a place (that I won't name in case they come across this blog and decide to renege).
Upon finding a place, we planned a short term outing to the zoo for spring break. Whoa.
Now, it went relatively smoothly, but can you say group effort? With 9 kids, you gotta be on the lookout for all kids, not just your own. Laney, Drama Queen of the World, was wonderful, but Ethan... well, at one point, he was laying on his stomach in the dirt playing with his car.
And I left him there because at least there he wasn't running around saying things like, "Mommy! Did you see his big bell-wee!"
Animal gook and gazillions of germs from the gazillions of people that visit the zoo? Not a concern. Dirt on the shirt and pants? Not a concern. Peace of mind so that I don't snatch his head right off of his body and give it to the chimpanzees to play with -- that's my concern.
We really did have a great time, and the kids -- especially the older ones -- were so cute together. They held hands and ran around being excited together, so I know they'll have a blast at the beach.
The younger ones, of course, could care less that we're together and trying to start traditions that someone will write about in a future issue of Clemson World.
Anyway, as we started talking about how all of this is going to play out at the beach, we came to some definite conclusions...
1) Probably not going to be going out very often.
Hi! We'd like to eat at your restaurant. There are five adults and... oh, about 50 kids. Can you put us in the non-smoking section? Do you serve alcohol? No? Got any cooking wine we can share? We're on a beach trip together, and we're starting to feel a little frazzled... Any idea what it's like to try to get all these kids bathed and in clean clothes while trying to make yourself look presentable after a long day in the sand? No? Would you like to? I could sell you a couple of kiddies, under the table, of course, for... oh, say, some nice adult beverages?
2) We will need to find a team van or big rig or something if we want to make it down in less that 4 cars.
Breaker-breaker-one-nine -- we've got a lost midget somewhere between here and Highway 73... last seen when we pulled the rig off the road for a potty break.... Oh, and can y'all clean up the CB language? We got some little ears listenin' in on our way to the beach... Don't need them going home to Daddies using the F bomb...
3) We may need a nanny, some Xanex or Zoloft, and a series of rigorous testing before we leave to determine if we're up to this trip... I mean, they say it's really tough to qualify for the NASA program, but I'm thinking those astronauts don't have anything on us if we survive this beach trip.
Just came off of spring break... having a little trouble functioning at the moment.
I will say that I spent a day with my Clemson girls and the kids. Now, there are five of us, and when we had a few wee ones romping around, it was nothing to go out for a meal or to take a drive to the beach.
This year, we started talking about reviving the beach trip tradition. We've been going somewhere for the past few years but decided to take last year off because I had just birthed a baby and my friend Meges was about to have her first, so we didn't want to take any chances. We are all, by trade, teachers and not nurses, so for MiMi to go in labor while at the beach would've been disastrous... Not to mention that Megan is our main source of entertainment, so if she wasn't willing to jump around and sing "The Bonkey Song" at 8 months pregnant, the trip just wasn't going to work.
Oh, and I was in a foul mood most of the summer from lack of sleep and lack of a husband, who was out of town on business, so I wouldn't have been great company anyway.
So, we decide at Christmas to hop back on the beach bandwagon and look for some cool little hideaway to house... Are you ready for this?!?
5 adults
4 children between 4-5
1 almost 3 year old
1 almost 2 year old
1 just turned 1 year old
2 babies under 1 year
Surprise! No one wants us at their beach house! All of the beach houses that would technically fit us cost a zillion dollars per night to rent... and did I mention that we're all teachers by trade? Thanks -- lots of intellectual conversation... not so much in the moneybags...
After much searching and emailing people with more money than me who can afford a mortgage and a beach house, we found a place (that I won't name in case they come across this blog and decide to renege).
Upon finding a place, we planned a short term outing to the zoo for spring break. Whoa.
Now, it went relatively smoothly, but can you say group effort? With 9 kids, you gotta be on the lookout for all kids, not just your own. Laney, Drama Queen of the World, was wonderful, but Ethan... well, at one point, he was laying on his stomach in the dirt playing with his car.
And I left him there because at least there he wasn't running around saying things like, "Mommy! Did you see his big bell-wee!"
Animal gook and gazillions of germs from the gazillions of people that visit the zoo? Not a concern. Dirt on the shirt and pants? Not a concern. Peace of mind so that I don't snatch his head right off of his body and give it to the chimpanzees to play with -- that's my concern.
We really did have a great time, and the kids -- especially the older ones -- were so cute together. They held hands and ran around being excited together, so I know they'll have a blast at the beach.
The younger ones, of course, could care less that we're together and trying to start traditions that someone will write about in a future issue of Clemson World.
Anyway, as we started talking about how all of this is going to play out at the beach, we came to some definite conclusions...
1) Probably not going to be going out very often.
Hi! We'd like to eat at your restaurant. There are five adults and... oh, about 50 kids. Can you put us in the non-smoking section? Do you serve alcohol? No? Got any cooking wine we can share? We're on a beach trip together, and we're starting to feel a little frazzled... Any idea what it's like to try to get all these kids bathed and in clean clothes while trying to make yourself look presentable after a long day in the sand? No? Would you like to? I could sell you a couple of kiddies, under the table, of course, for... oh, say, some nice adult beverages?
2) We will need to find a team van or big rig or something if we want to make it down in less that 4 cars.
Breaker-breaker-one-nine -- we've got a lost midget somewhere between here and Highway 73... last seen when we pulled the rig off the road for a potty break.... Oh, and can y'all clean up the CB language? We got some little ears listenin' in on our way to the beach... Don't need them going home to Daddies using the F bomb...
3) We may need a nanny, some Xanex or Zoloft, and a series of rigorous testing before we leave to determine if we're up to this trip... I mean, they say it's really tough to qualify for the NASA program, but I'm thinking those astronauts don't have anything on us if we survive this beach trip.
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