Wherein Jillian Michaels drives me to try crazy things

Hi friends.

I know my blogging has been spotty lately, and don't you worry, I surely have hang-ups about it.  But I think we all need to walk away from the finger pointing for now, and hop back to it.  It is time to discuss evil.  Or, the Diet Coke of evil.  (Just one calorie.)

(Doctor Evil, Austin Powers, yes?)

(No-no Mini Me, we don't gnaw on our kitty.)

Onward.

So! I am still shredding.  

Level Two, Day Thirteen.

Okay, if you do the math that's like six days missing in there or something from my very first shred.  One time I was passed out on the couch when Kevin finally made it home from work to join me, therefore being forced to decide between Evil Sergeant Ponytail Kicking My Ass, or Sleeeeep.  (Duh.)  Several days later I pulled a muscle in my lower leg and gave it time to heal, on Saturday I walked a 5K and I took a pass on double duty exercise, and tonight I write. 

Wait, did I say a 5K?

These are the things that yuppie hippie somebody-or-others do with their Saturday mornings, and Kevin once, three years ago, but not me.  (Ok and Breain.)

Not me, that is, until we signed up for the race the walk to raise money for Make A Wish Foundation, which happened to wind through our favorite zoo in the world. 

Apparently even my lacksidasical commitment to the Shred is beginning to pay off, with a dive down into a lesser size of khaki shorts (thankyouverymuch) and the return for my willingness to try new things once again.  Apparantly I need nine full months to gestate and nine full months to embrace recovery from all the gestating.  Who knew?

 

So we woke our kids at six a.m. on Saturday morning and whisked them off to the zoo.  We figured KJ would never make the entire race walk without whining, crying, dragging, falling, hating and certain death, especially on an eighty-eight degree day, so he happily took the stroller option when we offered.  (No shame, that boy.)

We missed the official start by a few seconds as we spent too much time pilfering free peanut bars from the radio station table, and that sort of set the standard for our personal time.

Following the path of orange cones, we passed a volunteer every now and again who would cheer for us and holler something about a great job stopping to visit with the animals every twelve feet.  I never got over feeling goofy about that, all of the forced cheering while we hauled our offspring around the course, daring them to eat the peanut bars and just chill for a while.

We knew to stay to the left so that the real runners (who actually jog with their jogging strollers and not just occupy too-large boys) could pass as needed, and after a while of our brisk walking, then stopping, and more walking, we began to wonder how it was that all of these sweaty runners and their jogging strollers were coming from behind us.  Because, people, for sure we cleared off the peanut bar table so what could be left to delay their start times? 

Oh right, the panting fools were the supahstahs on their second lap. 

(Yeah, well wait until you're finished.  And starving.  Because my kids have eaten all the protein so now look where your sweat and speed has gotten you.  Hungry, that's where.)

Finally we made it around the first time, and then we started in for part two just as our boys were sooooo hottttttt and our baby was ready for a nap and a bottle.  Jackson made sure twelve times that we would be stopping at the playground this time around, and KJ vehemently hated the sun, the heat, the bumps, the path that failed miserably at passing through the reptile house and the entire idea of lap two. 

We, too, had worked up quite a sweat pushing strollers, though enjoying our morning exercise for a great cause. 

More thirsty now, smelly and definitely hot, I sort of lost my parental shit reached a breaking point a little ways into the final lap.  We were off to the side of the road again, mixing up a bottle for our fussy, overtired baby and trying to convince Jack that he needed not visit every bathroom that day, when KJ began objecting to seeing The Same Animals Againnnnnnnnnnnn, as if this were the new worst thing in the world just next to whole wheat bread and crust, when one's blackened hearted parents drag children from their early morning slumbers to have fun! exercise! charitable family time! glean vitamin D from the sunshine! 

Awful indeed, and all at once I became every mother that ever lived because I was TURNING THESE DAMN STROLLERS AROUND, totally finished with the grumbling, complaining and child misery.  Not until, however, I snapped at my husband right in front of three zoo staffers whizzing by in a golf cart, because couldn't he at least offer to help?!  Help me shake up this bottle that I've done ten thousand times?!  Couldn't he hold my hand or offer some sort of support or something?  Are you the one causing this boy to complain?  Your offspring?  Surely you have fault here, man! 

How pretty of me. 

Kevin convinced our crew to calm down and carry forward until we finally reached the playground, where we would then dump our children from their respective chariots to just run it off already as we cooled down.  Then we called it a day on the 5K 4K and quietly wished for the deodarant left back at the car.  We made peace with each other, and visited the reptile house. 

As we headed towards the gate my eye caught a family of five, just like ours, with two boys the ages of our boys, and a baby girl.  I smiled immediately because I so love seeing families like mine, and I always wonder what their daily lives are like and how they handle the highs and the lows.  And just as I turned to alert Kevin to our selves in another life, I clearly overheard the father say to his oldest son, "You know, why don't you think of something FUN about this day instead of constantly complaining?!"  

And in that moment I wanted to run up and shake that man's hand.  Or kiss him, even, if not for being so smelly and tired and married and whatnot.  (Oh how misery does love company.)

Our next walk, which surely we will attempt again, shall involve a babysitter.  And a crisp fall afternoon.  And ear buds.

***

Miracle of miracles, I caught up on uploading recent pictures today.  They live here.

Comments

[Tina]

gorgeous pictures! I especially love the one of the boys sleeping together in one of their bunk beds.

hope you guys had a great Father's Day. =)

[Frema]

Ha! I love this entry. I walked a 5K earlier this month with Luke and loved it, though it whooped my ass, for sure. I'm doing the BlogHer 5K next month during the conference, and since Luke isn't sure about wrangling two kids that early in the morning away from home, I'm going to take Nathan via the baby carrier and pray he doesn't puke on me. The marriage of exercises and children; oh, what a questionable--er, beautiful thing!

(You look great, by the way. Holla, shredhead!)

(Also, there's a 5K walk/run during the Indy Marathon in October at Fort Benjamin Harrison Park. You and Kevin should totally sign up!)

[Crystal]

That would SO have been us as well. Except I know better than to even TRY a 5k. And my husband would look at me as if I had horns growing out of my head if I were to wake him at 6 a.m. for a run/walk. So yes. You are better than I.

[AJU5's Mom]

Oh, I can totally just hear the kids in the strollers. I think a 5K at the zoo isn't a good idea for that very reason! I bet you got more exercise than expected dealing with their desires!

[Angela]

And THAT is why I do the 5 mile March of Dimes by my ownself now. I lost my shit WAY earlier than you a few years ago. xoxo

[Jenny]

Any entry that quotes Dr. Evil is always welcome!
I especially love the pic of KJ and Jack together too! And the one of Marin and Kev with the guitar!

[PamperingBeki]

I keep hearing how tough Shred is, but I'm too scared to try it. Jillian scares me. ;-)