pace yourself

Today was the big day: the Jog-A-Thon! Ian did a great job and met his goal exactly by finishing with 14 laps in the 20 minutes. (The track is 200 meters – I’ll let others who enjoy math more than I do figure that one out.)

I volunteered to work the event and was on the morning shift, which worked out quite well since Ian’s class ran just after 9am. There’s definitely a pattern with these little athletes: They come out the gate really strong. As in, really WAY too strong. Then, by the end of the first lap or halfway into the second, they are on their first walking break. So the volunteer/parent mantra of the day is yelling out to the kids, “Pace yourself! Slow down!” Or when they were at the start line at our area – the little pep talk: “Now remember, don’t go too fast or you’ll get tired quickly…you have 20 minutes to run…slow and steady wins the race…” Yeah, well, we might as well be talking to a group of over-eager elementary school kids because… Oh, wait – maybe that was the problem?

Continue reading

Advertisements

harold and the purple crayon

My daughter is obsessed. As in, she seems to love, love, love reading (or hearing, I guess is more like it) Harold and the Purple Crayon. It is a really cute and magical book, I must admit.

If I let her, she’ll choose it as the book she wants me to read at bedtime pretty much every night. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. One night I cut it off at the pass as we were headed into her room after brushing teeth: “Elena, we’re not reading Harold and the Purple Crayon tonight.” Her: I want to read Harold and the Purple Crayon!” Me: “No, we read it every night…let’s read something else.” Her: Sniff, sniff. (As if I’d just banned her from seeing her best friend…) “Okay,” she said grabbing another book reluctantly – which, by the way, is usually My Truck is Stuck. Sigh.

Continue reading

i’m not fat or pregnant…i have a medical condition

Well, it’s official. My children ruined my body. More specifically, the second child if I’m really pointing fingers. If there was ever any doubt – which, there really wasn’t – but if there ever was, it disappeared last Thursday.

To explain, I must go back for a moment to 2010 after I had Elena, was not working and was as anxious as a lightning bug caught in a jar to rid myself of any sign of two pregnancies. Enter my longtime friend Weight Watchers, and my new(er) best bud, Jillian. As in, Michaels. She and I spent many mornings together…weights, crunches, jumping jacks….more crunches, more jumping jacks… It was somewhere in there that I noticed my stomach looking a little funky. I won’t go into details but figured I clearly still had work to do. Fast forward a few months when I was at the doctor and she pronounces, “You have a hernia!” Me: “A what?” Her: “A hernia. Does it hurt?” Me: “Oh, I’ve been wondering about that…it seemed strange…no, it doesn’t hurt.” Her: “Then don’t worry about it.” So, I didn’t.

Continue reading

strawberry jam

It’s Oregon strawberry season!

While I could spend at least a paragraph – maybe even two – talking about how truly special Oregon strawberries are and why they are different (translated: better) than strawberries grown anywhere else, I figure – why waste my precious typing fingers when my friend Krista really said it best in one of her recent blog posts? Check it out here.

The season is so short that if you blink, you’ll miss it. And since more often than not, half the season consists of the crummiest of crummy (Wait, did I just make that up…crummiest of crummy? Why yes, I did!) weather, we usually miss the opportunity to go out and pick our own strawberries on Sauvie Island.

Not this year! Mother Nature served up a lovely u-pick opportunity just in time for Kruger Farm’s annual Father’s Day weekend “Berry Jam.” So, off we went for a couple of hours of working the fields with the sun beating down and Mount Hood watching over us as we labored.

It was ‘berry’ hard work, but hey, someone’s gotta do it.