Friday, June 17, 2011

The First Tri...*Sigh*...

The craziness of life is such that it has taken me a week to get this posted. Crazy.

Sunday the 12th was the first Tri of the season, a delightful affair with about 2000 women. I was reminded why I love doing these, when in an act of camaraderie a few girls in my wave and I were chit chatting about the looney tooney Iron Man people who just go to the bathroom while on the course. It's a lovely visual, isn't it? Some dude, riding his bike for a hundred miles whipping *it* out and just peeing as he goes. Or worse. My new lady friends and I decided that we enjoyed the sprint distances and lack of urinating men just fine thankyouverymuch.

The swim was tough. Tougher than usual, because it hurt a bit. My time wasn't the greatest as I did better last year. My physical therapist put it in perspective when she said that a.) she hasn't let me train really and b.)I'm working with an injury. This point was hammered home Monday thru Weds when I had radiating pain in my wrist and had ZERO hand strength. I couldn't even hold a pencil, that's how bad this gets. So I will forgive myself for the swim.

My transitions bit the bomb though. I am full of excuses on this blog today, so I'm going to chalk it up to being in a really sucky position for the swim in and bike in/out.

The run went okay. My time was a bit less last year, but they changed the course this year and I am thinking it was not a full 5k last year. I've never run a 5k that fast, even just in a road race without biking and swimming. Either that or the caffeine pills I took last year had more of an effect than I gave them credit for.

The irony is, I felt so good after this race. I mean, super good. I wound up doing the hour long drive home, hit two ball games and a birthday party and was okay. Tired, but okay. Monday it was tough rolling out of bed for work, but that doesn't separate me from anyone else doing the race. Well, maybe I can be separated from those who have desk jobs since I am literally rolling on the floor with a bunch of 2 year olds for 8 hours of the day. Good stuff though.

I'm ready to do more. Now I just have to find the time to sign up!

Sunday, June 05, 2011

I Stand Corrected

I stand corrected...and humbled... and quite honestly, floored.

Yesterday we were at the pool. Jack jumped off the diving board, did something goofy, surfaced, and proceeded to tell me that he had just "hurt his BALL SACK". I was standing next to our next door neighbor in the water and he wished Jack's ballsack well, at which point I told our neighbor we did not need to encourage that.


I guess I'm glad he didn't say NUTSACK.

But does it matter?

Friday, June 03, 2011

Bad Words

I'm going out on an exaggerative limb here and I'm going to say right out that the best day of Jack's 7 year old life came about four months ago when I allowed him to start swearing. You have never seen a kid so excited to express his frustration in the video gaming world when I approved the questionable yet harmless "crud" and allowed him to add it to his verbal repetoire.

For some reason, (and I'm sure it's some kind of normal development thing) Jack is obsessed with being able to say "bad words". On a cognitive level, I realize he thinks it's a very grown up thing to do. On an emotional level, it's something akin to watching the years roll by...just adding one more step in the growing up process. It's a blessing that he thinks "crud" is a really bad one that in this house at least, you're NOT allowed to say until you are 7 ANDAHALF. That ANDAHALF (all one word) are very important, as they establish that Jack is in fact, more grown up and older and more important than his younger, less sophisticated sibling counterparts. I think he has a countdown going to his 10th birthday; the golden age of being allowed to say, "crap".

His innocence is really sweet, but on a whole other level, and something I fight myself on, he does seem a little socially immature. Two days ago we were at soccer tryouts (another blog story for another blog day). Jack's age group was on the field. The next age group up, third graders were next to me on the grassy knoll practicing. Calling each to other, 'Hey, Nutsack" like I call my girlies, "Hey Girl". Wait a minute! Is this how kids talk when adults pretend not to listen? And what do I say when my kid calls another kid a 'nutsack'? Is that a normal boy-in-sports-phenomenon? I don't even think Jack knows what a 'nutsack' is. He questioned his anatomy once and I gave him the correct medical term. Maybe he does and acts smarter than that for my benefit. Who knows.

Last week we had a super interesting conversation based on some slide at the park graffiti. "Mom" he said, all serious and not afraid I would be mad, "Mom, Is GAY a bad word?"
REally? Just put the loaded gun in my hand now.
"Well, son, it depends on how it's being used. Where did you see it?"
His response of course, was on the playground, while he and his buddy Tyler were playing while their daddies/baseball coaches were chatting.
"On the slide it said, 'JUSTIN BIEBER IS GAY'"

So I launched into an entirely lost on 7 year old brain diatribe on how calling someone GAY is mean because people do it to try and hurt someone's feelings, navigating the minefield of what being GAY means because I am NOT ready for "THE TALK" yet on any level. I mean, how doyou do sex ed with a kid who doesn't even know what a NUTSACK is?

Someday in the very near future we will have a chat on what it means to be gay, especially since on the news the big thing around here is that Illinois FINALLY approved the legality of civil union ceremonies and both the mayor of Chicago and the Governor of IL attended a few held in Millenium Park yesterday. I will get to explain to my child that being GAY does not equate being bad, being a sinner, being wrong, or the next thing on the list to Jeffrey Dahmer. It's like saying you have brown eyes. And to me, saying someone is GAY just to be mean and hurtful is waaaaay worse than calling your buddy a nutsack. Aside from the literal dictionary defintion, GAY is very much NOT a funny derrogative.

Love and be loved. Accept and be accepted. Take care of and be taken care of.

Thanks to your song of the week is
One Tribe
By: the Black Eyed Peas.