Caleb and I have taken up running.
After 8 years of asking him to run with me, he finally decided to run with…a neighbor. They do their thing on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays; I decided to do mine whenever I can fit it in. I find motivation in kicking his ass at running just for spite…but deep down I know I’m running mainly because I don’t want to be a fat-ass bridesmaid in my little sister’s wedding next year.
Anyhoo, when this whole idea came about, I started looking at jogging strollers. But last night I hit the open road while Caleb stayed home with the kids, Caleb cooked dinner with Merrick hanging on his leg, Caleb tried to get Mia to eat just 3 more bites of vegetables, Caleb dealt with a moody Cheyenne, and Caleb fed the dogs…and now I’m thinking I should skip the stroller and just enjoy the 30 minutes of me-time (and the payback my husband experiences while I’m gone).
I borrowed Cheyenne’s I-pod before I left, and now I kinda wish I wasn’t so picky about the music I let her listen to, because the soundtrack to "Hairspray" didn’t exactly get me all pumped up. But I can’t be the only parent who’s fed up with what’s on the radio lately, right? Seriously, whoever knocked off Frankie Goes to Hollywood totally killed that song. Killed it. ("When you go down, when you go down!" How stupid. Now I can’t even listen to it with the kids in the car.)
Spring break is this week. The girls are home and the weather is supposed to be great. So far we have plans to make good on a coupon for a free game of mini-golf. Tuesday Mia, Merrick and I are psyched to wear our matching St. Patrick’s day shirts (Cheyenne? Not so much.) I wanted to take the kids to the library, the park, and somehow squeeze in a little T-ball practice.
T-ball. Mia’s playing for "The Little (or is it Lil’?) Rascals" this season. (Thank God someone talked the coach out of the name "The Bratz".) And what is it that coaches find so cute about a bunch of 4-5 year-old girls playing sports in light-pink EVERYTHING? Can’t we get a little gutsy and go red, or orange, or neon green? Aw, well. Uniforms aren’t everything. I just want Mia to learn the game and enjoy playing.
Merrick is such a happy baby lately. He’s so freakin’ playful and silly and loveable. I never knew boys could be so sweet.
Cheyenne has completely purged her room of all things bright and colorful (perhaps in her mind childish?) which normally I wouldn’t really have a problem with except now the room is completely bare. Bare, bare, bare. And boring. There’s nothing in there that’s "Cheyenne" anymore; instead, the whole room screams "neglected step-child" and it’s bothering the crap out of me. She claims to love the plain look, but Caleb and I keep asking her what color she wants us to paint her walls, or what kind of things she’d like to buy for her room. She won’t crack. I’ll never understand that girl.