Jump. Lift. Run.

I've tried to keep myself in more or less decent shape for years now, primarily by running.  I even thought I was reasonably dedicated the last couple of years; I'd get up at 4:45am a few days a week to go for a run since it was the only time I could work it into my schedule.  I ran as long as possible into both pregnancies.  And I really enjoyed running the occasional road race, too.

But something totally different has recently happened to my workout routine.  Joker convinced me to go to a gym.  And not just any old gym, but one that is part of a "thing."  Apparently a trendy thing.  It's the CrossFit here in Evergreen, and I have been loving it.  I lift weights for the first time in my life.  I am working towards doing real pull-ups and handstand push-ups.  I make crossfit jokes with the other people in my classes.  I'm even doing crossfit things (like odd sit-up variants and pushups and the like) at home after my regular run-of-the-mill jogs.

I'm not sure if those insane obstacle-laced races are next.  I'm not sure if this is all just a side effect of living in Evergreen.  I'm not even sure how long my interest in jumping on boxes or doing dead lifts will last.  But for now, I'm stronger and thinner than I have been in years.  Even if it just leads to more tank tops year-round, it's probably a good thing.

Kick the round ball

The Bug started soccer, which is also known as "football" or "futbol", if you happen to live on the wrong side of the Atlantic.  This is her first foray into team sports: playing with other kids, getting instruction from the coaches, that sort of thing.

The first day was an unmitigated disaster.  There were witnesses; I am not exaggerating.  She cried the whole time, clinging to my leg.  She kept moaning she wanted to go home, to which I very sensitively replied, "You wanted to play soccer; we are staying until practice is over."  Disaster.

But since then, Joker has been taking her to practice and "games" (they just kinda let the kids run around and score goals, best as I can tell).  She's actually participating, and was reported as doing perfectly yesterday.  So, yay.  She also loves her shin guards and cleats, wants to see the local high school girls play, speaks extremely fondly of the sport when she's not there.  In short, this might just work out fine.  With any luck, even I will get to witness the success in person.

A few extra hands

After our move to Evergreen, I was housewifing.  The Bug was in school four days a week, the Bunny went to daycare once a week, and things were pretty manageable.  Yeah, I'm a crappy cleaner, and I actually learned that dusting is even worse than mopping, but we ate three somewhat healthy meals every day, there were clean clothes in the drawers, and the kids got to go to the library and the park and my grandparents' house and other cool places.

But as soon as I returned to full-time work, I realized how much was falling through the cracks.  I rarely never cleaned, laundry piled up, grocery shopping was done while emailing, my kids would watch TV while I attempted to work (fyi, school until 2:45pm is not "full day")... and don't even ask about showering.  It boiled down to this for me: even with an extremely flexible and understanding work situation, and with a rather helpful husband, it is virtually impossible for a working woman to do all the mommy and wife-y stuff.  Especially if she's not supposed to be an enormous grump at the end of the day and/or drink an entire bottle of wine before dinner.

But - hooray! - we have gotten to a rather wonderful place, with the addition of a few helping hands.  I have someone cleaning the house every other week, which means that after nine months of just sitting there, my bookshelves have now been dusted.  Twice.  And this week we found a delightful babysitter who can pick up the girls a few days a week, leaving me with some precious extra hours to devote to my job while the girls get to play outside and have adventures. 

To all the superwomen out there, huge kudos for handling what I cannot.  And to you normal women, trust me, we all need help.  Now let's go grab a drink.

Happy Birthday, Easter Bunny!

Another year, another Easter, and I'll be damned if I don't love the cuteness.

Yesterday we colored our eggs.  Which, apparently, is just the beginning.  Then we gilttered them.  And then we sequined them.  If E. Bunny doesn't lay a jelly bean when he sees ours then call me a monkey's uncle.

This morning we went to the egg hunt at the Evergreen Elks Club.  It was pretty sweet - they break the kids up by age so the teeny ones don't get squashed by the big kids.  Except there was some snafu or another, which resulted in the 3-4 year olds' hunt being over before half the kids arrived.  Lucky for us, this town is full of incredibly nice people. (Have I mentioned that before, because it's uncanny, like someone's pumping ecstasy into the town's water or something.)  Anyway, a couple of kids filled the Bug's basket with eggs.  We went around the corner with another family, hid those eggs, and the four kids had their own hunt.  It was perfect.

And tonight, the kids are watching a movie (Gene Wilder in Charlie & the Chocolate Factory - our kids occasionally exhibit great taste).  The note to the Easter Bunny has been written, carrots are laid out, and they even picked up their toys so that he wouldn't trip... "in case he wears glasses" said the Bug, though the relevance escapes me.

Anyhoo, Happy Easter to you!