Parenting Don’ts

Today, I took an easier pace on my walk and pushed myself harder on my push-ups.

Today, I sent a box to my brother in an attempt to be helpful from 1400 miles away.

Today, I finished book 51 of my summer reading challenge.

Today, I rode a horse for the first time since I was ten.

Today, I stood behind a woman in FedEx who taught me a little something about parenting.

I am not a parent, except in the special way pet owners are to their pets.  I used to work in a church nursery, which gave me a broad spectrum view of both parents and kids.  That was an excellent learning environment because it showed me just how unique each parent-child relationship is.  It also demonstrated how very difficult it is to be perceived as a good parent in public.

Let the kids run wild and you clearly aren’t teaching them discipline and respect.  Yell at them or (God forbid) spank them in public and you’re some kind of monster.  There’s always someone looking over your shoulder and judging you.

I do it, too.  A lot.  And whenever I observe parenting I disapprove of, I always say to myself, “I’ll never do that with my kids,” or something similar.  I also have grandiose plans for what I am going to raise my kids.

For instance, there were two little girls running amok in FedEx, a 3 and a 5-year-old, I think.  They were freaking adorable and they weren’t doing much but leaping out at each other between the aisles and squealing.  Their mom was talking on her phone the entire time she was in the store.  Not keeping an eye on her daughters, not giving her full attention to the clerk.  When she reeled in the girls when she got to the desk, she ended up juggling her phone and the papers she was shipping while the girls clung to her legs and got in the way.

I made faces at them and then started shadow boxing with Buddy, because that’s what I do when I’m bored.  At one point, the younger girl knocked her face against the counter and started crying.  First, the mom asked the older sister what happened.  Then, presumably because the girl didn’t appear to be hurt (no blood or anything), she had the older girl take her sister (still crying) to sit by the door.

Still on the phone, she finished with her transaction.  Still on the phone, she took her daughters out into the dark parking lot to her SUV.  Still on the phone, she drove away.  I told myself I would never be that attached to a phone call.

Then it occurred to me that I rarely use my phone to make calls, so phone calls were not a real threat to my parenting technique.

Don’t worry.  When I really think about it, I know that reality makes a mess of all high-minded parenting ambitions.  The best laid plans are easily mislaid by toddlers.

I will say this, though.  If your little girls are in the back of your vehicle, GET OFF YOUR GORAM PHONE.  You know what, even if you don’t have kids, maybe don’t block half of your vision and half of your brain for a conversation that really can wait.  You may not be chauffeuring a couple of rugrats around, but the person your carelessly run off the road might be.

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15PM000000112011 · 23:08

Self-less Selfishness

I spend a lot of time worrying about other people.

But it isn’t because I’m a selfless person at all.  It’s because I am completely self-centered.

I worry about how I would be affected by the loss of a person I care about.

I try to think of ways that I can help them so that they will feel gratitude toward me.

I have to fight against myself all the time because I want to buy people stuff that I think they will like.  They won’t like it.  I just need them to like it because I do.

I need praise and gratitude.  I need thanks for every tiny, insignificant thing I do for someone else.

I am a narcissist.

However, with careful deliberation, I can steer my self-adoration into actual good deeds for others.  When I shut down that inner whine that insists I don’t get enough credit and wonders why I bother at all, I can remember that good deeds for praise are empty gestures.

I am sorry that I can be so easily swayed by my ego to sneer at people I love simply because they don’t acknowledge a paltry gift I sent.

On a slightly related subject, I am also paranoid.  If I send someone a gift and they don’t acknowledge receipt of that gift, I begin to fear that it was lost or damaged or stolen.

Knowing my penchant for narcissism and paranoia, I have developed a system by which I find out if a gift was received without directly asking the recipient.


How was your day?

Do anything special for your birthday?

Did Mom/Dad/Bro/Sis get that thing I sent?  (Spying)

Did you hear that there have been a rash of gift card thefts in the mail?  (Fishing)


Yeah, I worry about a lot of people.  Bit I also worry about me because I have to remind myself that I should worry for their sake and not just my own.

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15AM000000122011 · 00:01

Super, Awesome Day

Since yesterday’s post was so moody, today I’m just going to tell you about my awesome day.

My walk went really well.  I pushed myself, getting all the way to the end of the road with about 10 seconds to go and then getting back to my house with about 5 seconds to go (I set my watch for 30 min and turn around when the alarm goes off, unless I hit the end of the road).  That’s 4.2 miles in just under an hour.  My hips, knees, and feet are feeling it right now, but I have the weekend for recovery.  Then I did five sets of my muscular work out and only had to call myself a sissy once.

After that (and a shower and breakfast), I drove across the water to visit with a friend I haven’t seen in a long time.  We had a great time catching up over very good coffee.  Then we went outside so I could meet her gorgeous horse and pick blueberries in her yard.  It was a very successful endeavor, though about 10 min in fully understood why blueberries are so expensive.


I also got to hang out with her little boys and meet a sweet puppy.

When I got home, I had lunch and sat still all of 20 min before I had to do something.  The other option was falling asleep and losing the afternoon, because I don’t do 20 min naps.

I drove to the Commissary to pickup a few necessary items to use up some of those blueberries.  When I got home, I mixed up the custard for my lemon ice cream and set about making lemon blueberry cupcakes from a bread recipe from Pinterest.  I’m getting better at reading recipes so I have far fewer Pinterest Fails.  Unless I’m dealing with something completely foreign to my experience (“Is coronation chicken supposed to taste that gross?  I have no idea.”).

lemon blueberry cupcake

I asked Buddy to try one and tell me if it needed the lemon glaze the recipe calls for.  He said they were good, but the glaze would make them really good.  But then I would have to call them cupcakes.  And that’s when I yelled at him that of course they were cupcakes and frosting is not what makes cupcakes different from muffins and… and… and… then I calmed down.

After the cupcakes were done, I tried to read and started nodding off after a dozen pages.  So up I got to start pitting cherries (I used three different methods before I settled on pushing the pit out with the wide end of a chop stick => halving was too slow, paperclip didn’t work at all, Pinterest).  With all the cherries juice spatter, I was starting to feel like Dexter.

By the time Buddy got home from the gym (around 7 pm), I was ready to make a cherry wine ice cream sauce.  The ingredients were a tad unusual, but they all came together to make a very complex, fruity sauce.  I’m very pleased with it.

Long story short, I did my work out, exceeding my achievements this week.  I picked blueberries, made two new successful recipes, and I didn’t nap once.  This is unheard of.  Super, awesome day.

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An Ill-Informed Opinion

A friend of mine asked me tonight what I thought about the riots in Missouri.  I had no idea what she was talking about.

See, I get my news from NPR and Facebook, generally.  Facebook is not a great source for anything except what’s popular with the masses, but NPR is pretty reliable.  Unfortunately, I’ve been listening to audio books in the car, so I’ve been pretty detached from the world.  That meant that for me, the big news this week was the sad death of Robin Williams.

Well, I came home determined to find out what was going on.  Some poor kid was shot to death and it became a race thing because the kid was black and the cop was white.  Every report I read took great pains to point out that the boy was black, that the police force in the suburb is mostly white, that the suburb’s population has a black majority, that the chief of the state troopers who took over for the city cops was black, and the races (black or white) of the government officials who got involved.

Anyone else see the problem here?

In my heart of hearts, I don’t like or trust cops.  In a general sense, I like them out there, doing their jobs.  But I have never in my life seen a cop car in my rear view mirror and been relieved.  I tend to get paranoid about my speed and traffic laws and, you know, what if I did something wrong but I didn’t know it was wrong and I get pulled into the justice system which is jacked up and ruins my life.  I have no specific incident for this paranoia.  In fact, according to the predominant feelings of our nation, I should have no fear whatsoever for our boys in blue.  I am white, after all.

I shouldn’t be writing about this because I don’t know enough.  I wasn’t there when the kid was shot, or when the protests started.  I wasn’t there when a candlelight vigil became a riot or when officers used dogs and teargas against protestors.  But part of me is very exhausted with race being the excuse.

Yes.  Excuse.  If we want to free ourselves from race issues we have got to stop thinking in terms of race.  The victim is described every time as black.  Even with photos showing the contrary, the police force is definitely white.  Is that all we are?  Is that all we can see about each other?  Well, yes.  It’s not about dangerous neighborhoods or in-built distrust for police.  It’s about that boy being black and that cop being white.

I am not defending that officer, nor am I disregarding the possibility that the incident was race related.  I don’t know really what I’m saying.  I don’t understand how we are still crippled by such biases.  I don’t understand how a vigil becomes an excuse to break windows and loot stores.  I don’t understand how a peaceful protest in America can be confronted by dogs and teargas, nor how anyone can claim peaceful intent when molotov cocktails are involved.

I don’t understand.  I don’t want to believe it’s about race anymore.  I want to believe it’s about culture, socio-economic friction, mob mentality, anything besides race.  Pretty soon, people will be asking if the response would have been the same if the cop was black, if the victim was white, or some other nonsense, if they haven’t already.  Stupid questions.  There is no way to know and speculating just makes the race issue that much more prevalent because people are relying on racial stereotypes for their assessment.

What matters is that an 18-year-old boy is dead and there’s an ongoing inquiry.  Everything else is just so much toss.

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Does This Really Need a Title?

Well, so far the incentive is working.  My walk went well, though it was really warm this morning.

I did four sets of muscular strengthening.  I’m still doing push-ups on my knees.  I did one regular push-up.  That was…humorous.  As in slow, laborious, and fortunately not witnessed by another human being.

I struggled through my work out, even the abs.  It was a little depressing, but it could be worse.  I could complete the work out and I did have to work for it.

There is a delicate balance in designing a work out program.  Variety is good because it keeps you interested and makes sure you overlapping muscle groups.  However, too much variety can just be overwhelming.  Difficulty is also tricky to figure out.  Too easy and you get no improvement.  Too hard and you could injure yourself.

I like to group my exercises into four categories: upper body, upper abs, lower body, and back.  Right now, I’m only using one exercise per group.

Another aspect you must plan for is how to increase difficulty.  You can up the time and reps.  I prefer timing my exercises.  When my goal is a number of reps, my brain turns my muscles off when I reach that number.  With a time limit, I just have to keep going until the timer goes off.

I’m up to 30 secs.  I think before I up the time again, I’m going to add an exercise to each group.

I am not an expert.  This is a super boring post.  Sorry.  I took a nap after my work out and I haven’t recovered.

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15PM000000102011 · 22:56


When I was in Hawaii, the PT program had three categories: Regular, Incentive, and Exempt.

Sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself.  PT (physical training) is the work out program intended to prepare you for the APFT (Army Physical Fitness Test), which tend to happen four times a year or more, depending.  The APFT has three events: 2 min of push-ups, 2 min of sit-ups, and a 2 mile run.  Each event is worth 100 points and scores are based on age group and gender.  You need a minimum of 60 points in each event to pass.  If you get a 300 on your APFT, you get a special patch to sew on your PT uniform.

PT is different and the same everywhere you go.  In my experience, normal PT was run by my squad leader (or equivalent).  Monday, Wednesday, and Friday are typical cardio days while Tuesday and Thursday are for muscular strengthening.  Believe it or not, my leadership courses to be an NCO included learning the ins and outs of running PT, from the appropriate warm-up (10 min) and cool-down (5 min) stretches, to work out routine variations for improving running speed and endurance, to the plethora of exercises designed to get soldiers of every fitness level to muscle failure and tears.  Every unit I’ve been in has found ways to encourage soldiers to exceed the minimum standards.

So, Regular, Incentive, and Exempt.  Regular PT meant you showed up for formation at 6 am and did PT with your squad.  If you got a 280 on your APFT with at least 80 points in each event, you went on the Incentive program.  You had to show up for 6 am formation, but then you did PT on your own.  For a lot of people (like me) this meant sprinting back to our barracks after Revely so we could finish sleeping.  If you got a 290 with 90 points in each event, you were PT Exempt.  No formation for you.  The problem is that some people need to be told to work out.  The reward for a really high score was not working out for the next 4-6 months and then having to go back to Regular PT after nearly failing the next APFT.  Granted, some people flourish when they get to run their own work out routine, especially since they can customize it to their own goals.

Well, after last week, I decided I needed an incentive program, one tailor-made for my motivations.  Everyone likes being rewarded for good work.  The trick is making sure the reward is proportional to the achievement.  I’m not allowed a whole pizza to myself just for doing a walk in the morning.  And giving myself a day off is counter-intuitive.  I can skip any day I want because, duh, I’m the one in charge.  The goal is to keep me from taking a day off, especially if I think I deserve it.

That word right there is bad news.  I have used it to justify any number of indulgences.  I got a good test grade so I deserve this ice cream.  I got a bad grade so I deserve Five Guys as a mood booster.  I walked four miles yesterday so I deserve the rest of the week off.  Deserve is a slippery slope for people like me.

Yesterday, I went shopping for incentive and knowing my most dangerous addiction, I picked up a chocolate bar at World Market.


My three reasons for this particular bar:

1.  It is less than $3.00.  For a gourmet bar that is a great price.  The Vosges Mo’s Dark Chocolate Bacon Bar is $7.00 at it’s cheapest.  It is completely worth it, but I couldn’t justify it as a work out perk.

2.  It is easy to portion out.  The squares are large enough that I can take at least two bites, so it doesn’t feel like I’m being cheated when I have only one square.  Also, each square is less than an ounce, so I’m not endangering my healthy diet even though I’m indulging in my chief temptation.  (In fact, studies have shown that an ounce of dark chocolate can actually be good for you.  Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean 2 ounces is twice as good for you.)

3.  This is by far one of my absolute favorite chocolate bars.  It is not a stop-gap for a craving like most chocolate.  It is what I crave.  Rewarding myself with something I genuinely crave has a much higher chance of actually working.

There are rules, of course, because without rules there is nothing.  I have decided on my routine for the week.  Completion of the routine earns me one square.  Why not put it off to the end of the week, you ask?  Well, that might work for some, but I find I work better with daily positive reinforcement.  The rewards and punishments are much more immediate that way.  The struggle happens every day so there should be a prize for every small victory.  (Besides, what if I miss a day for a legitimate reason?  Does that mean no reward for all the work I did the rest of the week?  I’d end up eating the bar anyway and then feeling guilty for not really earning it, as well as sick from eating that large a bar in one sitting.)

Here’s my routine for the week:

Daily – 1 hr walk (≈ 4 mi)

M – 3 sets Muscular Strengthening (MS)

30 sec push-ups (on knees)

60 sec abdominal twist

30 sec leg lifts/flutter kicks

30 sec reverse crunches

W – 4 sets MS

F – 5 sets MS


Wish me luck!


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15AM00000092011 · 09:21

Good Decisions

It is not often in my life that I say to myself, “This was a good decision.”

Phrases that slip more frequently passed my tongue are self-deprecating.  “That was stupid.”  “Why are you so clumsy?”  “Can’t you do anything right?”  “You should have done this differently.”

Strangely, whenever I speak to myself this way, I have flashbacks to my childhood.  No, there isn’t some cruel adult saying these things to me.  It’s not the type of thing my parents would say to me.  Honestly, I vividly remember my Mom muttering the same phrases to herself on a daily basis, especially when things were a mess and it was ruining whatever she’s trying to do.  Just low-grade self-shaming that we all do on bad days to make them seem just that much worse, right?

That is not to say that I don’t say positive things to myself.  I spend a lot of my time telling myself how awesome I am, especially when I’m telling others the complete opposite.  In my head I say, “I am super smart, way smarter than these dumb college kids.”  To the college kids, I say, ” I’m not that smart.”  This is a brilliant strategy to get them to agree with what I actually believe.  I don’t always do this consciously, but if I catch myself doing it, I don’t stop myself.  Unless I’m doing it to my husband.  Then I’m just pulling mean, womenly wiles on him, which it totally unfair and not healthy for our relationship.

It’s strange how I never say mediocre things to myself.  I’m either super smart or incredibly stupid.  I’m never of average intelligence.  I rarely congratulate myself for walking across a flat floor without tripping.  Maybe I should start.

I constantly bemoan all my bad decisions.  Of course, I only know they are bad decisions now.  When I made them, I thought I was being conscientious and logical.  But that’s how it goes for everyone.

My good decisions tend to be minor in the grand scheme of things.  But lots of little decisions can add up to an awesome day.  Make something special for breakfast.  Finally tackle a small project I’ve been putting off.  Those sort of good decisions won’t cure cancer or fix the economy, but they will cheer me up.

Today’s good decisions: Take Buddy on a movie date (Lucy => very good).  Try tiramisu tea with coffee ice cubes and a dash of creamer (totally my jam).  Make a stuffed beef tenderloin petite roast with horseradish goat cheese and a little dill (OH MY GOODNESS.  ANYTHING TENDERLOIN IS A GOOD IDEA).  End the night with homemade tiramisu (I have an addiction, sue me) ice cream over Kahlua soaked lady fingers and two spoons.  All good decisions that led to a great day.

It’s easy to get into a cycle of negativity, to focus on all the ways I could have done better.  It’s also easy for my ego to tell me that I don’t make mistakes, when that’s obviously not true.  I think I will practice making more small good decisions.

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15PM000000112011 · 23:31

This Week was Kind of a Wash

Sunday night, Buddy asked me to go for a walk with him.  So I did.  We just went to the end of the street, only a little ways beyond where I’ve made it on my normal walk (20 min out and 20 min back).  According to Google, that’s 1.5 miles and should take me 29 minutes to walk.  I’ll admit I feel smug about beating Google’s pace.  I didn’t push myself too hard that evening, which I know because I didn’t bring my watch to keep track of my pace and I could still talk when we got back to the house.  It wasn’t a work out at all for Buddy, since he does real exercise.  He runs just about every day (sometimes twice a day) and goes to the gym for weight lifting after work.  That’s where he is right now.  Still, a walk helped stretch out his super long legs, which can get pretty stiff if he’s been over-doing it.

That walk made me realize a problem.  I was planning on bumping up my walk to 30 min out and back (1 hr total). this week.  I had forgotten how close I was to the end of the road, which peters off into private driveways a mere tenth of a mile past my furthest turn around point.  I needed to add ten minutes to my walk somehow.

Monday, I walked down a couple of the side roads, both of which turned out to me much shorter than I hoped.  It wasn’t enough.

Tuesday, I babysat for a friend in the morning.  I had intended to take the girls for a walk through the neighborhood (going so far as to show up in my workout clothes), but it was rainy.  In the right mood, I will walk in the rain.  I used to enjoy running in the rain.  However, I can’t take a couple of kids out in the rain.  When I got home, I stayed in my yoga pants because I was definitely walking once the weather cooled in the evening and not at all because they’re so comfortable.

I would like to publicly apologize to all the disparaging remarks I’ve made about people who wear yoga pants all day.  I totally get it now.  That being said, leggings are still not pants.

I did not end up going for my walk Tuesday.  Wednesday, I didn’t even try.  Got up, fed that cats, smashed my face back into my pillow, from which I did not emerge until lunch time.  My phone arrived in the mail, which took up the rest of my day.

Yesterday, I got my determination back.  On the walk out, I added a small side road to my route, but I still ended up hitting the turnaround point too early.  I reset my timer when I hit my turnaround point, left out the side roads and did what I should have done the first time.  Less than half a block from my house is a right turn into the housing development which doesn’t seem to fit at all in my neighborhood.

My house, by the way, doesn’t belong in my neighborhood.  It was built in 2011 across from a lot of small, single family older homes, many of them obviously prefab models.  Most are in decent shape, the neighbors are pretty friendly, but it’s not what I would call a “nice” neighborhood.  It’s almost nice.  The road is paved, but kind of narrow and has drain-off ditches which are often clogged with weeds and some trash.  The frogs and mosquitoes love them.  But just half a mile down the little road, there’s just forest on either side of the road for about of mile.  While it’s somewhat precarious without a sidewalk and only a ditch to jump into in case of rude drivers (I haven’t been run off the road, but some people drive way to fast for my comfort), it is so quiet and shady.  I like my walk.

The development down that side street has a couple of houses like mine (they were all built by the same company at the same time).  There still aren’t any sidewalks, but the storm drains are covered giving the people the option of parking on the shoulders (not an option on my street).  There is very little shade and everything is too bright and shiny.  None of the drivers wave.  The last block has the big houses, the one’s about 100 grand more than our little house and way too big for our needs.  They’re so pretty and brings out all the envy in me.  I feel really conspicuous on that street.

However, it adds a half a mile to my total route, bringing me to my hour goal without having to over-complicate things.  So I will suffer the immaculate and then return to my grunge.  Ah, the sacrifices we make for fitness, right?

Well, I had my route.  Then the migraine hit.  It started during the walk, but that happens.  I chugged my water bottle, had some breakfast, and then lay down for a nap.  I know lots of people get a huge energy boost after working out.  I get super sleepy and tend to have the best nap.  Besides, sometimes that’s the best cure for a headache.

When I woke up, it was still there but was manageable.  We were having a friend over for lunch, so I just set about getting ready and running errands.  As the afternoon wore on, the pain got worse, so I caved and took some meds.  It was too late.

When dinner came around, there was a rusty railroad spike hammering through my temple.  I was hiding under a blanket while I ate.  We watched the original Transformers (cartoon) movie and I could barely find the energy to make fun of it.  I took more meds (which you’re not supposed to do, but I was close to tears).  By this time, my stomach had joined in the hate-fest.

Bedtime saw little improvement.  I was not tired at all.  I tried reading and playing Sudoku, but no dice.  Eventually, I returned to the living room to read so that at least Buddy could get some rest.  Eventually, the spiking pain subsided and I just had to deal with the tin foil pressure that makes my teeth and nose hurt.  By the time I had to feed the cats (6:00 am), I finally felt tired.

Needless to say, I didn’t walk this morning.  I slept a couple of hours and then got up because I was getting a massage (payment for babysitting).  My stomach was still irritated, but it wasn’t too bad.  Most importantly, my head was clear.

I rambled quite a bit on this post, but just wanted you to know that I walked twice, didn’t do any strength building exercises.  I got a new phone.  I had a bad migraine.  This week was kind of a wash and I’m not counting it.


15PM000000102011 · 22:13

Do Not Anger the Purple Gods

So, a few weeks ago, I dropped my phone and cracked the screen.  It was a great phone.  It was purple, with a purple case and a purple charging dock.  Because even as an adult I accessorize like a 5-year-old.  We went to the Sony website to order a replacement.  The purple model was on back order.  Well, Buddy needed a new phone, so he got his and I got his old one for the interim.

Then we went on vacation.

Buddy checked back periodically, both online and by calling customer service.  Still on back order.

Then we got back from vacation.

The purple model is no longer for sale.

I must have angered the Purple gods.

We ordered the phone in black.  It came in today.  After activating it, I spent 3 hours setting it up how I want it and put it in the purple case.  It’s not the same, but that’s what I get for breaking the purplest phone I’ve ever had.

In other news, I skipped my walk today and stayed in bed until noon.  But it’s okay.  I had bad dreams, so it’s not like I enjoyed sleeping in.

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15AM000000122011 · 00:13

Today was a Day

It wasn’t an especially good or bad day.  I didn’t do my walk but I did play Littlest Pet Shop and chess with a 5-year-old and an 8-year-old.  Important fact:  there is no way to win chess when you team up with the younger sister against the older sister.

The older sister says she knows the rules, but not being Bobby Fischer, she has only a tenuous grasp at best of a very complex system and is easily confused.  As she is still learning what each piece is allowed to do, strategy is out of the question, not that I’m any good at strategy.  I spent most of my efforts playing both sides and giving her lots of advice on how to beat me, while still trying to legitimately play my own side so that I wasn’t just giving away the game and to keep the younger sister happy.  Eventually, the younger sister gave up on my side about when I lost our queen because her sister was clearly winning since she had taken more of our pieces (4 pawns and the queen while I had both her knights and a rook: quality is always trumped by quantity with kids).  I was a terrible sport when I was young (at the first sign of losing, I would declare that everyone was a cheater and quit, usually with an abundance of shrieking and tears).  I expect little better from young girls.  I only had to scold once for rude bragging (it’s just not done in chess).  Besides, one shouldn’t brag about taking a piece her opponent told her to take.  The lesson, of course, is that there’s no way to please everyone.  And now I want to play chess.  Bugger.

It was a fine line between teaching the game and keeping them interested.  And then we had to get ready for gymnastics, so I took a picture of the game (I was definitely losing), and off we went.

Have you ever seen gymnastics?  It’s pretty incredible how much strength and control is necessary for even the most trifling of events.  If you ever find yourself scoffing at it as, well, not a sport or too easy, I invite you to take an 8-year-old to her gymnastics practice (provided you are an approved guardian or friend of the parents).  Once there you will see a gym full of (mostly) girls ages, say 6-16, doing warm-up exercises that would make GI Jane faint.  It’s deeply unsettling to see shoulder muscles rippling on a preteen in a spangly leotard.  When I draw female super heroes, they will be built like those athletes: narrow-hipped, flat-chested, and toned.

Anyway, that was an education.  The rest of the day was just a day, nothing special.  Except I finished another batch of tiramisu ice cream, the entirety of which I would eat right now if I wasn’t worried about my husband catching me.  Of will power, I can speak little.  However, peer pressure is certainly a guarantor of good decisions.

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15AM000000122011 · 00:37