Misfit Monday

I Can't Reach The Candy

It is a well-known fact that I enjoy candy and often have an abundance of it in my office to share (somewhat begrudgingly) with my fellow misfits. Currently, the candy is in a large fishbowl on top of a large file cabinet in my office.

One afternoon (I wasn't there, so this misfit story is second hand with a little embellishment), misfit Patty decided that she need a little candy snack to cleanse her pallet from the only 35% meat taco she had just eaten from Taco Smell.

(Side note, I love Bill Maher and he had some truly hilarious things to say about the whole Taco Bell meat(less) fiasco - two of my favorites are "How could you not know? Your meal cost less than gum." and "It's no accident that taco backwards is O' Cat." OK, back to regular programming).

I think I'll go get a delicious piece of candy from that wonderful woman, Stephanie's office - Patty thought to herself.

She joyfully skipped the two feet to my office all the while humming Christmas carols aloud.

When she got to my office and saw the candy bowl high atop my filing cabinet, she frowned slightly. She then reached her hand up, with all her might and rotated her wrist to grab the piece of candy she had been craving for all of three minutes. However, the candy did not reach the top of the fishbowl and she could not reach down far enough to where the candy she so desperately desired was sitting.

She pouted.

She stomped her feet.

She cried a little.

She then wailed, I can't reach the candy.

Misfit Barbie came into my office and nearly fainted with laughter. After 15 minutes of laughter, snorting and dry heaving, Barbie removed the fishbowl from the top of my filing cabinet and handed it to Misfit Patty. Patty ate her candy and was eternally grateful to Barbie.

Apparently, Patty thought the fishbowl was glued, stapled or nailed down to the filing cabinet. Silly Patty.

Here is a very talented artist's depiction of what happened that fateful afternoon:

Dear Cash - 10 Months

Dear baby Cash,

Wow! You're now double-digit months old. I remember when I wrote "Fetus Friday", the weeks seemed to go by so quickly. I didn't know it was possible, but the months seem to go by faster than the weeks.

This month you've been crawling all over the place and your new favorite game is "chase". You look at me (or your dad) crawl away (very quickly) and then look back and smile (and also to make sure that we're following you) and then you crawl away again. This game makes you laugh and laugh.

You've also started letting go (for just a couple of seconds) of objects that you use for support while standing. You've also graduated to using the whole bath tub, no more baby bath time for you. We have to be extra vigilant with you in the bathtub because you always want to pull up on the side of the tub (it's a little slippery for you) - you also seem to gravitate to everything dangerous in the tub (like the metal water spout).

Regarding eating, you're still eating everything pureed and your new favorites are salmon and peanut butter and bananas (only the last two are mixed together) . You still haven't quite figured out how to eat more solid items (like puffs or eggs) without coughing and gagging. Your father and I try to teach you how to eat puffs, but all you do is try to feed us the puffs. It's rather cute.

You love music. One of your favorite toys is your keyboard and it has several programed songs. No matter what you are doing (even if you're chewing on my ipod), if the programed song - Ode To Joy - comes on, you stop what you're doing, look around for me or daddy, smile and start to clap. Your joy is impossibly infections.

Thank you little man for helping me keep things in perspective. If I'm ever having a bad day or some kind of problem, one of your laughs quickly pulls me back to the reality of the things that matter most - you, your dad, our family and our friends (and cookie dough).

Please don't grow up too quickly and please continue to be sweet to me and your dad.

Love you so much,
Mom

Now here are a couple cute pictures of you today - first, a silly little picture of you licking the table (I'm sure this will go on Aunt Liz's list of grievances).


Here's another picture of you playing outside today, I call it - your super model pose.

How To Build A Texas Snowsuit

Yesterday, it snowed in Texas! Not a lot of snow, but almost an inch and any snow in Austin is reason enough to shut down the city. Cub's school was closed so the two of us stayed home while Buttin went into work.

I wanted to get Cub outside and let him play in the snow; however, we don't really have appropriate snow gear. I had to improvise.

Here's Cub modeling my creation (I'm sure he'll appreciate this picture when he's 16):


A. PLASTIC BAGS - none of his clothing is really water resistant so (using my trash bag/rain poncho experience from last weekend's run) I covered Cub in grocery sacks. Here's a blurry picture of him in his grocery bag outfit.


B. DIAPER COVER - even with the plastic bags covering his every inch, I wasn't convinced his butt area would stay dry (and I knew he'd probably be sitting in the snow), so I covered up his entire butt area with a diaper cover. The diaper cover has a polyurethane lining, so I knew the clothing around his butt would stay dry.

C. BLANKET SLEEPER - for coziness I put (over his clothes and plastic bag protection suit) his blanket sleeper on him - we call them Winta Pants in our house.

D. HAT - pretty self explanatory.

So, after all my preparation. Our total time spent playing (generous use of the word) in the snow was about 20 seconds and Cub's total time spent crying in the snow was about 15 seconds.

Oh well, as I think I've mentioned a time or two on this blog (or maybe you've seen all the pictures) - I think my baby likes water (as in swimming) not frozen water.

Here's a non-smiling, but not yet crying picture of Cub in the snow.

Filanthropy Friday

Brr. . . it's cold outside.

Cub and I are snowed in (well, it's only about an inch of snow, but for Texas it qualifies as a "natural disaster"). I might have a couple pictures of Cub playing (or crying) in the snow if we can manage to get the front door open (the half of inch of snow is making it difficult to open the door).

The city is pretty much shut down - no schools are open, no government offices are open BUT our little business is OPEN and busy. I think our guys are pretty tired - we had several calls yesterday night and early this morning for water extractions. Buttin was at the office at 6:00 this morning to try and organize the day. Apparently the roads were horrible (like I said, we're not prepared for this in Texas) and it took him about 30 minutes to go 3 miles. We have a few other brave misfits at the office too and I just want them to be safe.

OK, so back on topic.

This week, I donated $15 to HAAM - Health Alliance For Austin Musicians.

Here's my logic:

Monday was Buttin's 35th birthday! Buttin loves music (we named our son Cash). Buttin also enjoys being healthy.

I require that my $15 be used for musician dental care. This request (demand) is also in honor of Buttin because he hasn't been to a dentist in over a decade.

Aramco Houston Half-Marathon Race Report

The Aramco Houston Half-Marathon represented a few firsts for me.

First postpartum race.
First night away from Cub (I know it's not really race related, but it's still a first).
First race in Houston.
First time I purchased something at a race EXPO (an iPhone holder thingy).
First time to use the silver-sparkly thin blanket-like thingy after the race.
First post-race vomit.

OK, that about covers the highlights.

In summary my first postpartum race was not my worst. I've completed three half-marathons, and this was my second best (and also second worst, depending upon how you look at it) time (2:36.43).

My mom and I headed up to Houston on Saturday morning. We arrived at my childhood friend's house, I call her Nana (she's 22 weeks preggo with twin girls), around noon and we headed to the EXPO.

The packet pick up (along with everything else about the race) was super organized. We didn't have to wait in any kind of line. Our longest wait at the EXPO was for Nana who was picking out running clothes in the clearance section.

At the EXPO, we saw Ryan Hall and my mom took this adorable picture with him.

After the EXPO, we (me, my mom, nana and her sister, who I call weenie) went to lunch. I love lunch. After lunch, we went back to Nana's house and after about 45 minutes of hanging out, we went to dinner. I love dinner too. We all enjoy eating and I was with a pregnant lady, so I ate for her sake. My mom took a picture in the parking garage (near the restaurant), she did a pretty good job predicting my race day pace.

After dinner, it was back to Nana's house to pin on our bibs, make awesome rain ponchos (aka trash bags) and get to bed. My mom and I were in bed by 9:00 PM.

The entire week leading up to the race, the Houston Marathon peeps sent out emails forecasting the race day running conditions. I think on Monday, we started out as GREEN (low 50s/clear) and by Saturday night the conditions had changed to YELLOW (low 70s/rainy) with the threat of thunderstorms which meant BLACK and they would delay or cancel the race. I never knew they delayed or cancelled races due to lightening. I guess living somewhere with 300+ days of sun per year, race days don't often include thunderstorms.

We woke up at 4:30 (I had to pump) and got ready for the race (brushed teeth, hair in ponytail, put on deodorant and got dressed - skirt and short-sleeved top). We (me, mom & Nana) headed to Weenie's house and it's a good thing we got there on time because Weenie was STILL ASLEEP. Her husband had set the alarm, but only for M-F. Thankfully, she got ready quick and her husband dropped us off at the race around 6:30.

We made our way to our starting corrals - there were only two; however, Weenie was in a slower corral (the bib wasn't hers) and they wouldn't let her pass to our corral. Nana and Weenie were only planning to do about 6 miles (Weenie lives right at the 6 mile marker) so they stayed in the slower corral, while my mom and I (speed demons that we are) headed towards the faster group.

Here's a picture of my mom in her trash bag.

So after a little "opening ceremony", which consisted of both the sponsors talking (blah, blah, blah), the mayor saying something and Clyde Drexler (he was the starter) saying something too - we were off for an on time 7:00 AM start!

It was drizzling and warm and it was only getting worse.

My mom and I didn't really have a race strategy for this run which was probably a mistake. We started out like we do in most races, trying to go our own pace and trying not to get too caught up with all the people (of which there were many) passing us. (Side note: I do not have split times because my Garmin battery died about half way through the race).

I do remember looking at my watching during the first three miles and we were going pretty speedy (for us) - around 10:30/mile. At about mile three, I go ahead without my mother. I'm feeling pretty good, but I didn't get anything to drink during the first or second water stop (probably another mistake).

At about mile 5, I started to feel my first signs of dehydration - the chills. The rain probably wasn't helping. This is typically something I don't start feeling (if I ever do) until the last couple miles of a race or run. I was less than half way done and not feeling super great.

I put on my headphones and started listening to a podcast about "Limits". There's a story of Julie Moss's famous crawl to the Ironman finish. Maybe not the BEST thing to be listening too, but it kept my mind off feeling kind of sickly. I started drinking tons and tons of Gatorade (I mean like three cups at every water stop), which I never usually drink. It started to feel like an eternity between waters stops and I started to wonder if I was over doing it (the drinking).

Here I am around mile 8. I actually look better than I feel, which isn't saying much. Around this time I started walking all the Gatorade/water stops. This plan didn't last long and around mile 10 I started to jog five minutes, walk two.



The final 5K was uncomfortable. My legs were good, but my stomach was turning. I felt extremely nauseous, but I kept running (slowly). I honestly don't remember a lot about the last couple of miles, but I do remember the women's MARATHON winner passing me - I used all the cheers for her to inspire me (to not throw up). I also remember turning a corner in downtown and it being very windy.

Then (mercifully), it was over. I got my medal (but couldn't care less, my tummy was lurching), went inside the convention center to collect my finisher t-shirt and waited for my mom (we had a meeting place). About 15 minutes later my mom arrived, we got her shirt and then collapsed.

Here's my mom (collapsed).

Here's me - again, I look better than I feel.


My mom and I both started to get kind of chilly. We fished two of those silver, tin foil looking things out of the trash to use. It did make me a little warmer, but sadly, no less nauseous. I have no idea what made me feel so ill, but I never want to feel that way again. It was that kind of sickness where you know you'll feel better after you throw up.

I'll make this last part quick.

Nana and Weenie decided to finish the half marathon. My mom and I waited (me, rather impatiently) about 45 minutes. I felt badly because Nana (22 weeks preggo with twins) was so happy and glowing and I really wanted to celebrate the occasion with her, but all I could do was focus on not throwing up. I was kind of a grump.

Eventually (after what felt like an eternity of walking to the car and a small pit stop at the Hilton Hotel - my mom said I looked green) we made it back to Weenie's house where I promptly threw up every ounce of Gatorade I drank and also something that resembled lettuce (why does throw up always look like lettuce?) that I don't remember eating.

Thankfully after my love affair with the toilet, I started to feel better.

It's a good thing too, I got an email yesterday from the Austin Marathon folks reminding me that the race was only 18 (now 17) days away.

Wordless Wednesday - Serious Butterfinger

New Doctor #1

Yesterday, Cub and I visited a new pediatrician (we'll call him, Dr. Santa). I plan to visit a couple of doctors before making a final decision.

This doctor came highly recommended (along with several others) by some parents (the crunchier ones) from Cub's school. He works at a practice that does not accept insurance. They're able to set (fairly low) prices and do not have to argue with insurance companies. In theory, this also allows for more quality time with their patients. I find this approach refreshing and actually don't mind paying a little more per visit and not have to worry about what is/is not going to be covered.

Cub had fun in the waiting room on the rocking horse.


We waited about five minutes before seeing the nurse. Cub got weighed and measured, no major changes since his 9 month appointment. The nurse mentioned that they had another baby with the exact same birthday as Cub's in the practice. I found it interesting that she would remember such a detail.

He had fun playing on the table with the paper.

The doctor came in about 15 minutes later. He's an older man - calm, gentle - like someone's hippie grandpa (hence, why I call him Dr. Santa). He examined Cub. Cub's ears and lungs were clear. He mentioned maybe trying a little allergy medicine (something my mom and my friend, a pediatrician, also said this weekend) just as an experiment to maybe rule in or out allergies.

Next he gave me his honest opinion of all the vaccines. He said some were better than others and some were not so necessary. He mentioned delaying MMR (the biggie that everyone is typically afraid of because all that autism stuff) until 15 months, but nothing very mind-blowing.

I liked him, but didn't LOVE him. Not sure exactly what I expect from a pediatrician - I guess I just will know when I know. I do feel like he is a better option than Dr. Sharpie, so for now, I've got his number programmed into my speed dial.

The search continues.