clickmom

I'm innocent, I tell ya, INNOCENT!

Usually Monday is a big hit day for me, after the slower weekend. Not this Monday and I know why. It's because the rest of the bolg-o-sphere is still recovering from attending BlogHer, while I (and about 5 other bloggers) have nothing BlogHer-icious to write about. Yes, there are no drunken laughing hotel photos for me. No snapshots of me with incredibly famous bloggers, nothing of me sitting in conference rooms at big tables with my laptop all fired up ready to go. I feel so left out.

From this weekend I have nothing to show but a freaking SPEEDING TICKET!! A speeding ticket that was given to me when I wasn't speeding!! The thing is people, I don't speed! And I wasn't speeding today. This cop pulls out behind me and 3 other cars who are all going the exact same speed, (which happened to be 65 when we passed him, I know this because they all stepped on the brakes and so did I since I was in the end of the line) and I think I better make my way to the left so he can pass me. Except he goes left right behind me so I go to the leftest left and he does again, so I stupidly think to myself "Omigod I bet the bikes are hanging off the bike rack." because I wasn't speeding. I ASS*U*ME that the cop is trying to some how help me. HAAHAHA.

SO I pull over and so does little Napolean, the cop, and I ask "What is going on?" and he says "You were speeding. I got you going 86 down that hill over there." People, clickmom DOES NOT go 86. This is just ridiculous. I go 75ish in a 65, so if you said "I clocked you going 78." I would absolutely admit my guilt, but 86???? I do not think so! I was outraged. This little f**ker cop gave me a ticket for something that I wasn't doing. Also, I was in a line of cars all going the same speed (75ish) and I want to know why he picked me? According to Boops since it is the last day of the month cops have to fill their monthly ticket quotas, and are on the prowl, but "HEY ASSHOLE- HOW ABOUT TICKETING AN ACTUAL CRIMINAL???" I am sure without a doubt at the very moment Napolean was ticketing me there was an actual crime going on in Bedford NY, or at least some other driver saying "Look at that dangerous driving guy in front of me, where are all the cops when you need them?" Because I spend enough time on the road having that very same thought, and there is never a cop around when some idiot is weaving in and out/left and right going insanely fast in front of me and my kids who are going 75ish!!!

I mean does Napolean have a game going on down at the station with his testosterone ridden cops buddies?? Do they get extra points for ticketing a fat housewife? Gas guzzling SUV? Bonus! Three kids in the car- oooh, more than the national average, score another point, cute dog in the backseat, another half point. Bike rack +2 points with a bonus point for the training wheeled bike. And if there is light music playing in the background another half point (except I was listening to a smutty comedian on XM Comedy so I turned the radio off before rolling down my window SO HA!)

Idiot.

Now I got a ticket halfway between Stepford and Utopia and how the hell am I going to talk my way out of this one? My one hope was the Garden State police issued Press Pass that I keep in my front window. But 1. it was partially obscurred by a misplaced photo of the kids I keep in the visor (dammit dammit dammit!!) and 2. Napolean probably wasn't tall enough to see it anyways. GRRRRRRR I HATE HIM!!

Of course, as I drove away from the ticketing, I thought to my self, it was all payback in a big way because at B's party the other night the one story that had me rolling out of my seat hysterical laughing was the story where a lady had to call the cops to explain to them that someone had grafittied her contractor's lawn sign. What did the grafitti say? I FUCK PIG and through my laughter I did manage to chole out something about any story with cops and that particular sentiment was perfect for a cop hater like me. It's karma coming back to bite me in the ass. I know it. Damn.

ok, who stole my kids?

We have been home since Tuesday and honestly, I think I came home with someone else's kids. These kids in my house do nothing but bicker, bicker, bicker, and that's not all, one of them keeps bursting into tears, one has started (gulp) pushing, and the other one, I swear, he hates me. Naturally this has had an inflammatory effrct on my usual pre and current monthly hormonal imbalance and damn these replacement kids couldn't even care less about my own personal brain chemical fluxuations. I wanna run away from home. Seriously, I am tempted. It's just that I know they would find me, so I have to stay or take them with me. Either that or (and I have always thought that this should be universally instituted) we need to have family Benadryl night. I would really like to enjoy these replacement kids when they are awake, but I'll settle for passed out drooling on the couch. Anything to stop the bicker bicker bickering.

In other news, I swam yesterday and figured out why it is that sometimes I get a little panic going and feel like I can't breathe. It is that when I get tired I get sloppy and I don't rotate my body all the way during the breathe. I swam conscious of that and swam much more effectively- even though I couldn't see the bottom.

Today I biked. I did about 15 miles with my babe Kitten, who is doing the tri for the first time this year. It was good because her pace is just a little bit faster than mine. I can go her pace but usually don't because when I am outside biking I am typically too busy thinking things like "Oh, look at the pretty pond." and there is no spin instructor there inspiring me to go faster or turn up my resistance, so I just go Lalalalala cruising along. But Kitten took the lead and I kept up with her and it was good. Then when I came home and replacement Evan (see first paragraph) looked like I had just broken up with him because I cycled with another I told him we could go out for a little spin with him so I did 2 1/2 more miles with Replacement Evan. Biking with him is different because he goes slow and I have to make my gears as hard as they can get to pedal slow enough and still keep my feet moving, so I get a different kind of workout. All in all it was good. I am glad I did the distance. I'd like to work my way up to 30 mile rides. I wish my seat was more comfortable.

My big triumph of the ride was going up the really big hill that I couldn't make it up last summer 1 mile per hour faster than I was going up it this spring. Kitten lives on the top of that hill and was standing there watching me grunt my way up, so I gave it an extra oooomph and actually passed a snail this time. Nothing can stop me now!

how many

How many roads must a man walk down before you can call him a man?

How many licks does it take to get to the center of a tootsie pop?

How many times will a certain full busted gal hold a tightly screwed jar to her bossom in an attempt to get a better grip on it while attempting to open it? You know what happens when the lid pops off. Yup, all over the shirt.

Boops rates

I am off to B's 40th birthday party and feeling lots of love and most definitely inspired. It occurred to me late last night, when it was too late to shop again, that the new size 14 (ppfffttt!) pants I am wearing tonight are white. Well, remember how last week I was PMS? Uh huh, this week I am MS, no more Pre, so I have officially put Boops on butt duty. I have instructed her to do spot checks on me all evening. (Hahaha, get it? SPOT checks!!) This I think is the measure of a true friend, since I totally intend on waving my behind in her face every now and then, just in case. I hope she tells me if I have spinach in my teeth too.

stinky hair throbbing toe

I was successful restarting the diet today. I should have eaten more veggies- but managed to stay way from the carbs. It is amazing what a difference one day without grain will do to remove my general bloatedness. It has to mean something, I just don't know what it is yet.

I went to pilates this morning and once there realized how much stretching I hadn't done enough of lately. Anything stretchy was hard to do and anything strength related was easy. I miss my posh club pilates teacher. Now I love them both. In a perfect wold, I would have three totally spare hours a day to experiment with all different exercises of the world. In the real world I don't, but I can dream.

Then I dragged the unsick kids into the city to see my grandma. I was deeply saddened when we walked in the door to see that she hadn't had her hair done in MONTHS. Grandma's head actually smelled nasty. Grandma belongs to a generation of women who went to the beauty parlor every week and never touched their own hair. Grandma doesn't even know how to wash her own hair. Freaky, I know. It made me so mad that the aide didn't make her get her haircut or even insist on washing it in the shower. I know that the aide helps her bathe, what is up with the head denial? It also brought up all this resentment I have towards my mother and uncle for not making sure their mother is taken care of. I can't be responsible for her as long as her kids are around. If I was in charge I would have her living near me right away and then I could see her several times a week instead of once every several weeks and she would be so much happier. (And cleaner)

We took her to lunch, and then to a beauty parlor. We stayed through the wash and long enough to see that the hair stylist understood that despite my grandmothers hair being down to her shoulders she actually wears it much shorter and then we had to split since poor Matt was home sick waiting for us to get back.

Matt had one request, a BLT from his favorite sandwich shop. We picked it up and came home. I was all moping and down over my grandmother's head and trying to shake the mood. The boys wanted to sit outside so we all sat down around the picnic table. I grabbed some nail polish I wanted to try for the party Friday night. It was my attempt at cheering myself up. I did one foot and one hand when I noticed my foot was surrounded by wasps. I shouted to the boys to get in the house because of the wasps. They didn't respond immediately so I screamed "Get in the house WASPS!" Just as a wasp bit me in the big toe. I jumped up and started pushing the boys towards the door, but not before another wasp bit Josh in the leg. I pushed them into the house and screaming Josh and hopping me made our way into the kitchen where I had no onions, which are my secret defense wasp stings. (The onion juice neutralizes the venom.) So, I lifted Josh onto the counter to put his leg under running water while I tried to figure out what to do for the stings, all the while hopping on one foot and chanting " ow ow ow ow". Even me in my totally sucky mood could see the humor in this situation. Matt and Evan made us ice bags and we iced our bites until they stopped throbbing.

bad tires, good jeans, new diet

I went to a spin class this morning and had every intention of doing that and then running on the treadmil to fufill my couch to 5k training. I had to stop doing the spin class though because I have this weird sharp pain in the back of my ankle that I first noticed last Monday while attempting to run a little, and only notice while running and now spinning. (I didn't notice it on my bike yesterday because I don't stand on my bike like I do in spin class) I did 30 minutes of spin and then some of what I could remember from pilates mat class up at the island. It wasn't the same without the instructors soothing voice and hypnotic counting. I did do a fair amount though, at least I kept on sweating so I knew some part of me was still working.

That was my less than stellar workout for the day. Tomorrow I will go to pilates in the AM and then to see my grandma for the day. In the evening I'll go to my regular chiropractor. Hopefuly he will tell me the ankle is nothing serious. Then I'll come home and jump on the treadmil in our house. Did I mention that I managed to blow out a tire on the trip back here from the island? So if I want to go for a ride I'll have to stop at the bike store first. I don't need this!! I was hoping that my legs and my equipment would hold together long enough to get me through the triathlon. I feel like once things start falling apart it could all become a slippery slope. I am very worried.

On a more positive note, I went to the mall with one of my babes to get a gift for B, who is turning 40 this week. Happy Birthday B!! What a special birthday it is. Whew- after all that B went through this past year with all 3 surgeries. What a trooper, let me tell you people, if you ever get sick, get some tips from B, that woman can handle herself. We got B a little something, and then I stopped by a store to see if I could get something new to wear to B's party. The pants are size 14 (women's). Now, I know companies are making sizes bigger because we American's want to wear a smaller number no matter what we weigh, but, um, come on! I wore a size 14 when I weighed 50 pounds less than I do today, before I had kids. If I ever get my weight down that low again I might just wear a size 2!! HAHAHAHA. I can't wait. Well, I have to admit that these size 14's are very much the form fitting pants, so I will be using the knowledge that I will have to not only wear them but keep them closed at the waist for an entire evening on Friday, to motivate me into closing the door on this month long candy binge, during which I didn't gain as much weight as I feared (okay, time for honesty- I gained 10 pounds) but more clearly I gained than enough.

Goodbye carbs (again) (and hopefully belly fat). I am making an effort to be honest here no matter how I do. I haven't eaten a thing since trying on the painted on jeans. Tomorrow- hello protein, hello veggies.

going through the motions of getting real with the training

Because I told myself I would, I had to swim and bike today. I woke up, reluctantly pulled on my swim suit and stalled until I couldn't stall anymore before going down to the water. I stood there with copious amounts of whining/whiny/wimpy/cry baby thoughts bouncing off the inside of my head until I made myself just get the heck in the water. I did my 30 minutes, dressed in my bike clothes, hung with the kids and then when they sailed off with the sitter, with all the effort I could muster, I got my bike, dreading the effort of possibly having to put air in the tires, and made my way to the road. I got on and took off. Enthusiasm=0.

I have no energy, no enthusiasm, no interest, yet there I was on my bike, pedaling forward. Biking felt harder than ever just to pedal and I was impatient to finish. At mile 2.8 (about 1/4 finished) I was cruising along, whining and whining and poor poor me pitying myself in my head, and had this thought: "What the hell is wrong with me?" Just then, at that exact moment, I looked up, saw one of the lakes resident eagles swooping right over me while a smaller bird landed on it's shoulder. "OMG!" I thought, "that has to be a message from the heavens. I am the mighty eagle and something is on my shoulder weighing me down."

So, like. Get. Off.

P.S. I completed my ride (12.3 miles) and am now enjoying the endorphin rush.

triathlon countdown-getting real. Whoopy.

Feeling pathetic today.

According to the Danskin website there are 55 days left until race day.

That's one day less than 8 weeks.

Yup, 7 weeks, 6 days left, and I just don't feel what I felt last year.

Thrill of the challenge? Nope. Passion for training? Nope. Desire for change? Fear? Nope.

Maybe it is my hormones talking here, because I am in the throws of a nasty PMS (Don't look at me! Don't touch me! Why are you smiling???), or maybe it is my crappy eating for THE LAST MONTH, yes, the last month. I got on that boat in Alaska, took one look at all the baskets of candy and threw in the towel. I haven't been able to get back in the saddle for more than a couple of days straight. Shame on me, I only tell you how I am doing when I am doing great. When I am a mess, I just leave that part out. Yup, folks, clickmom is a dietary mess. It's binge, binge, binge here. I am afraid to know how much I have gained over the past month, and am sure the news is bad, very bad. I do not have a scale up here at the island, so I can't say for sure, but all my new crisp shorts are folded nicely in the drawer while the two pair of cheap stretchy elastic all cotton Old Navy comfy shorts- they see action every day. Evan said my legs are getting fat, which is weird, cause I would have pegged chins and stomach first, but well, I asked him so I guess I can't argue with the answer.

Another triathlon related happening that is zapping my enthusiasm is that Peanut has rallied a huge chunk of our town into doing this tri, and there are so many folks doing it that it doesn't feel special and private and all about our babes anymore. It was such a nice cozy group thing last year and now it is all organized- stepford wife -type A personality- over zealots- thing. I dunno. I guess I just liked the small private component of it. sigh. bah hum bug.

One thing I really really wanted to do this time around was to run instead of walk the triathlon. I am reading this book, which I so wish I had last year before my first triathlon, and the author (How much do I love anyone who would seemingly title a book after me?) recommended a web site. I am going to do this program which should get me at least able to run close to the entire 5k distance (if my legs/knees/ankles hold out) in 7 weeks and 6 days. I am starting tomorrow. I tried to do some running a couple of times, but I don't know what I am doing and without the guidelines I just give up. I need a program, not just a goal. I am wondering if running on a treadmil at the gym counts as much as running outside. I prefer the anonymity of the gym workout. But, I think I'll just do it outside because that is where the tri is. I wish I could be invisible when running. Today my massive bosom was stared at by a young driver. The PMS kicked in and I got runners rage over it. Couldn't do anything though, in the game of car vs me, car wins so I just plodded onwards.

My new training schedule for the rest of the summer is going to look like this:

Mon, Wed & Fri: Running followed by pilates. (Technically the pilates is obviously not necessary for a triathlon, but i really want to be able to do sit ups with grace and style)
Tues & Thursdays: Swimming and biking.
Sat: choice. Sunday- relax.

Today I ran/walked and did pilates, but my head wasn't into it and I was lazy. I only stayed on the treadmil for 1 1/2 miles, and was lazy in Pilates class. Like I said: attitude in need of adjustment.

Eventually I'll have to start fooling around with the bricking (doing two sports back to back to simulate the actual triathlon) but for right now, I just need to up the training output. The tough bricking is going from the bike to the run. It is a whole different set of leg muscles in use and it feels so wierd to switch. Maybe I'll even do another fake tri here in mid August. The one I did last year was so exciting. I need to boost my enthusiasm some how. I wonder if I can get a babe to do it with me. Hmmm...

I can't decide if I should straight swim or use the paddles, which make it harder, that is good for building muscle, but the paddles move me faster too, so I can do the entire length in less time. I think as a compromise I'll use the paddles, but swim farther so that I am swimming for the amount of time I'll be swimming for during the triathlon. Then I will hopefully have plenty of energy left after the swim at the triathlon.

I promised the kids a campfire and some s'mores tonight, so I guess I'll drag my fat butt down to the fire pit and get things
started. inhale. exhale.

ick factor 10 out of 10

Yesterday in my pre-party cleaning frenzy I threw all the towels in the wash. Then I even laid out new bath mats in the bathrooms. The party was outside but plenty of folks came in to use the bathrooms.

Last night I commanded all three kids to cleanse. Evan and Josh cleansed with some supervision in my bathroom, and Matt cleansed solo in his own bathroom. When Matt came out from showering he was dressed in his shorts and t-shirt and for some reason (must have been mother's instinct) I questioned whether or not he had dried off (or maybe it was his dripping hair). It was then that he told me and husband that since there were no bath towels in his bathroom he, gulp, he used the dirty bathmat that had been trampled on all day by visiting party going strangers. We stared at him speechless. We stared at each other still unable to speak. The husband turned to face me, paused, thought for a second and in an usual glass half full moment said "Well, at least you can blog about it."

I can't bring myself to hug the kid today.

in need of clothes spins and disinfectant

Yesterday evening I took Josh to the grocery store so he could get a soda. Josh just had to sit in the kids truck/shopping cart even though he didn't really fit. I tried to help him into the cart and lo and behold, what did I find on my left hand? Dog poo. Next stop:aisle 15 for anti bacterial wipes.

Once back at the house I got a whiff . of . the . odor. again. OH MY GD! I forgot to take off his shoes. Out! Out! Damned shoes! They were banished to the porch.

sniff sniff

Hmmm.... this seems to be a lingering type odor. It lingered. And lingered. and lingered some more until I began sniffing the couch cushions. Had Josh been standing on the couch? My eyes began darting around the rug beneath Josh's feet looking for the tell tale odiferous smear of poo. It all checked out. I gingerly lifted my own hands towards my nose to see if I had accidentally recontaminated myself. I passed the sniff test.

Out of desperation, I whined "I still smell it." and the husband sat up and looked beneath his own feet. He picked up a clump of pine needles and took a whiff. He said he thought that maybe this clump of pine needles was the stinking culprit but that he wasn't sure. He waved it under my nose, and freak man, it reeked exactly like Josh's sneaker bottoms. Then the Husband looked at the under side of his own man-clogs and voila! problem solved. Out! Out! Damned man-clogs.

I hope it doesn't rain tonight.

My own special version of that credit card commercial (What's in your wallet?) keeps going through my head. I keep thinking "What's on your shoe?"