When I was young, I loved going bike-riding with my dad. He, my younger brother, and I went to the local school or park to ride circles. My boys have enjoyed going out with their grandpa, but I missed having a bike.

And so, presenting... "Orange Crush", so named because I'm gonna CRUSH the competition when I start doing tris. Or, maybe, you know, if I ever do. Heh, never mind. It is neon orange even if this photo makes it look more red.

Check out the cool neon yellow water-bottle holder. AND, I got a helmet that has little orange stars on it so I can be all matchy.

Fun, huh?

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away... well, okay, it was in NYC, I traded my smooth peanut butter in for crunchy.

It wasn't a choice I made with much thought. After all, I was used to grubbing out on soda and pizza during those free grad-school lectures. And free is good when you're in grad school. I also took advantage of New York City's fabulous delivery options. I'd get Chinese food, sushi, and even cheeseburgers just by using the now defunct food.com website. In other words, it was rare that I'd actually need to purchase peanut butter. After all, "peanut butter chicken" was something I clicked with my mouse fifteen minutes before a nice man brought it to my doorstep (before slipping menus under everyone's door in my apartment building.) It didn't involve me owning peanut butter.

But then I started to date a man. And we ended up engaged. And he ended up moving in with me as we prepared for our wedding.

And HE liked crunchy peanut butter.

Continue reading "Small Sacrifices" »

The boys are off for another school year's worth of adventures, hopefully not ones that involve too many parental heart attacks or busywork craft projects in the process.

Yup, it is back to rulers, books... and a little wine for Mom:

I got new specs - you like them? Thanks to a review opportunity, I bought my eyeglasses online - a novel but ultimately rewarding experience. I also got my hair blonde-a-fied, because it is important to look like you spent your entire summer vacation on the beach even if you didn't.

I love how the food processor and soap dispenser are the most in-focus things in the picture - this is apt, because I actually did do some domestic duties once the kids were out of the house. (Finally - freedom!) The chopped-up food is in the fridge, awaiting the post-gymnastics workout "actual cooking" portion of the plan.

Cheers - to a successful school year ahead!

Several years ago as my parents, my husband and I waited for a train - along with the kids, of course, the discussion turned to something. It might have been about breastfeeding, or making sure that me with my small bladder had visited the restroom in preparation for our journey. Maybe my mom asked me if now that I've had children whether those cramps are as debilitating as they were in my youth. Whatever it was, it involved something unfortunate about me.

As I gave my answer, I explained how I had inherited the worst parts of both parents. I didn't mean it to be quite the jab that it turned out to be, and fortunately they have a sense of humor, but it is true.

After all, I have my paternal grandmother's "female issues" and body type, but not her blue eyes. I have my father's social quirks and propensity for funny moles, but not his artistic talent or perfect vision (and yeah, he has blue eyes, too.) I have my mother's flat butt, but not her smaller, more well-proportioned bustline. I have larger cousins and smaller cousins - I'm larger. I have shorter cousins and taller cousins - I'm shorter.

If something "good" runs in the family, then I don't have it. And, the flipside is generally true, too. I remember as my parents told me about some brilliant accomplishments of my cousins - but then noted that they probably got their smarts from their father, a non-blood relative to me. Zing!

Continue reading "The Worst Things About Both of Us" »

1: Don't train all summer. But randomly do races like a half-marathon that gives you studly mylar blankets at the end, or a 10k that involves a mountain. But don't run otherwise, unless it is through Central Park in a tutu. Bonus points if you don't get on your stationary bike at all, and if you lift weights a single time, pretty much just to reposition them in the house.

2a: Forget you have a race until the night before. (This, despite picking up your bib and goodie bag mere hours beforehand.)

2b: Drink three bottles of sake for dinner, because you are gonna sleep in tomorrow!

2c: Remember you have a race and can't do anything about 2b, but maybe you should eat something? Set your alarm (you ain't sleeping in after all) while preparing a quick hummus-and-mozzarella-on-tortilla situation that will move through your body way too quickly to do any good for you. Sprinkle on some chia seeds for good measure.

3: Decide you really have to catch up on Real World episodes before you can go to bed. Curse the TiVo for not knowing that you really did want to record Master Chef instead of Big Brother, because the latter is already recorded in the front room.

Continue reading "Recipe for a 10k PR" »

As those of you with kids know, getting out alone with your partner can be challenging. After all, I use my "favors" for when I have a conference, such as BlogHer, a running event, or other such thing that is certainly fun, but not with my husband. Even doing these "optional" things can seem trivial. After all, I've begged my mom to watch the kids so I can get my hair done. Sure it is vain, but it is also necessary. Do you really want my roots to be so apparent that I look like a skunk? And my eyebrows must be waxed or I look like a caveman.

In all seriousness, though, I've pulled the last-minute "OMG, there is a work emergency!" or "My son's teacher wants to meet with me alone!" cards. During my sons' lives thus far we've had plenty of unexpected things come up, usually not allowing for the traditional agreement using the teenage babysitter down the street.

And so, actual "date nights" are such a treat.

Continue reading "Date Night" »

Hard to believe that school starts in a week. Cliche, cliche, enter your cliche here about time flying.

But it is true.

I blinked, and summer is over.

That means next week we'll have the requisite "What I Did On My Summer Vacation" conversations along with, "How have you been?"

Of course these are polite queries, but I can fill in the dialogue without being there. I dread having to nod and again admonish how that pesky critter Time most certainly has wings. I can't boast too much about my vacation for fear of seeming narcissistic (Hey, we went to Disneyland and I ran some awesome races!) nor could I ever launch into any "bad stuff" had anything happened to me. (Okay, Grandma died, but that was expected and my reactions to it were private.)

It is tough to find a balance between being polite and over-sharing.

Continue reading "How YOU Doin'?" »

Splig is a gymnast. In fact, since he officially joined the team just a few months ago, his progress has been remarkable. He can do many things that I can no longer do; and can do some things that I was never able to do. Sometimes while I watch him and his teammates, I forget that they are only first-graders. Of course when they come off the floor, I see their gap-toothed smiles, or I'll witness them burst into tears at times because they are frustrated. Their "little kid" personalities come out, but often while performing their skills, they look so mature.

Splig has no fear.

Of course, this means that I have tons of fear.

He's already proved himself to be a dare-devil, what with chipping a tooth at age 2 that was subsequently removed, and then knocking the other one such that it died. He's scraped up his knees plenty, and then slit open his chin last winter while climbing on his dresser. He's indeed a natural "gymnast," although I've tried (mainly in vain) to restrict the performance of gymnastics moves to the gym.

Continue reading "My Son is Going to Join the Circus and/or I'm Gonna Have a Heart Attack" »

It is hard to believe that a full week ago I was on a plane bound for NYC, the place where I left a piece of my heart, even if the rest of it is in San Francisco. But then I had to say "goodbye" on Sunday. Just like my other departures from New York, this one felt all too abrupt and I definitely miss myself. Of course the time was fun, but it went by in a literal blur:

Now it is back to the work-grind... and dreaming about San Diego for 2011. But New York? I hope we meet again... soon.

--

I have plenty of BlogHer 2010 photos, plus I have a collection that includes sets from all the BlogHers from 2005-2010. Then for my nostalgia, I also have a set from a trip back to the old neighborhood in 2005 (I moved in 2001.)

I'm off to BlogHer. (Would-be-burglars, fear not, the entire family and various vicious animals are standing guard (and apparently, even rats) - my absence means absolutely nothing for your grubby hands!)

If you are also going to BlogHer, seek me out! I'm a good person who won't squish you into a little ball. In fact, I'll give you something! This year's prize is a pair of rainbow shoelaces. I think these will be totally groovy for your kids or as added rainbow for your Sparklecorn uniform. (Sorry I can't help with the unicorns.)

It should be a fun trip!