In January, I joined the local gym, both for fitness and social reasons. I was hoping to meet other singles in the area, but I've learned that everyone pretty much keeps to themselves. Still, I'm proud to report that I have continued to use the gym 3-5 times a week, despite the lack of reinforcement from the scale.
A friend suggested I try their classes, since it's more likely that you can strike up a conversation with someone you see regularly at a particular class. I've avoided the classes, partially because I don't want to feel stressed to get to the gym at a particular time and partially because I'm not the most coordinated person. It's disheartening to finally get the aerobics step just to realize you're the only one moving forward while the rest of the class is going backwards.
But, I decided to try a yoga class on Saturday. I dusted off my yoga mat, which hasn't seen any action in about two years, and headed over to the gym. I sat beside a guy who was also waiting for the previous class to finish and soon realized he was the yoga instructor. We waited several minutes, but no one else showed up. "I guess it's just you and me!" he exclaimed. (Uh oh, I thought.) "Instead of the class, would you like a personal instruction?" What could I say except Ok?
Carlos is a yoga purist. He believes in doing the poses correctly or not at all. I've come to realize I have muscles that I never tested before because I feel them quite acutely now. Although all the poses he put me through were ones I was familiar with, Carlos showed me the proper way to do each. Even my feet and hands got a workout!
Monday, August 29, 2005
Yoga for dummies
For fitness and in hopes of meeting some new friends, I joined the local gym in January. I'm proud to report that I've stuck with it and still go 3-5 times a week, although I've been disappointed to learn that everyone pretty much keeps to themselves. Now that I have my iPod Mini, I do the same thing. (thanks, Steph!)
A friend suggested I try some of the classes they offer at the gym. I haven't gone to those, mostly because I don't like to rush to make it to the gym at a specific time. It's difficult to make it there by 6 or even 7 some days with work and traffic. I'm also not the most coordinated person, so aerobics and bench aerobics are an extra challenge, with me usually going the opposite direction of the class. But I agreed that attending the classes would probably be more conducive to conversation and meeting others.
So, I picked out a yoga class to attend on Saturday. I showed up with my mat (which hasn't been used in probably 2 years) and sat down next to a guy who was also waiting for the previous class to finish. We started talking, and I realized he is the instructor Carlos. We waited for several minutes, but no one else showed up. "Looks like it's just you and me!" he said. (Uh oh, I thought.) "Instead of the class, do you want a personal lesson?" (What could I say except Ok?)
There are muscles on my body that have never before been put to the test. I know this because I am now sore in odd places, like diagonally from my ribs to my hipbone. I even got a good workout in my feet and hands.
Carlos is a purist and insists on proper positioning. He said, "if you're not going to do it right, don't do it at all." Although I was familiar with each of the poses he put me through, I learned how to do each a little better. I couldn't move very well yesterday, but no pain, no gain, right?
A friend suggested I try some of the classes they offer at the gym. I haven't gone to those, mostly because I don't like to rush to make it to the gym at a specific time. It's difficult to make it there by 6 or even 7 some days with work and traffic. I'm also not the most coordinated person, so aerobics and bench aerobics are an extra challenge, with me usually going the opposite direction of the class. But I agreed that attending the classes would probably be more conducive to conversation and meeting others.
So, I picked out a yoga class to attend on Saturday. I showed up with my mat (which hasn't been used in probably 2 years) and sat down next to a guy who was also waiting for the previous class to finish. We started talking, and I realized he is the instructor Carlos. We waited for several minutes, but no one else showed up. "Looks like it's just you and me!" he said. (Uh oh, I thought.) "Instead of the class, do you want a personal lesson?" (What could I say except Ok?)
There are muscles on my body that have never before been put to the test. I know this because I am now sore in odd places, like diagonally from my ribs to my hipbone. I even got a good workout in my feet and hands.
Carlos is a purist and insists on proper positioning. He said, "if you're not going to do it right, don't do it at all." Although I was familiar with each of the poses he put me through, I learned how to do each a little better. I couldn't move very well yesterday, but no pain, no gain, right?
Friday, August 26, 2005
Learning to Trust Myself Again
A few weeks ago, I wrote about a visit to my local dance club in Weekend Report. I mentioned a gorgeous guy that I talked to briefly, who ended up with a table of girls.
I saw him again last Friday. Still breathtakingly cute. He smiled sheepishly and said I must be mad at him (for ditching me last time). I said no, not mad, just a little disappointed. Well, this time he wasn't letting me get away. We talked for a couple hours and had a nice conversation. I told him I was expecting my gay boyfriend to show up with his mom. He kinda raised his eyebrow at that but went on to say how he doesn't judge others and understands how women feel safe with gay guys.
When said gay boyfriend arrived, I introduced them briefly and left Mr. Gorgeous to help the family (mom, aunt, friend and brother were all there) find a table. When I came back to Gorgeous, he vehemently said, "I'm not shaking that guy's hand!" This was really out-of-the-blue, because he wasn't anywhere around at the time. I reassured him that gayness "doesn't rub off" and reminded him that this guy, in addition to being a good friend of mine, was a human being just like us. Gorgeous-now-looking-less-so went on to explain that he doesn't condone that kind of behavior. So, it's getting uncomfortable at this point, and we change the subject as I'm thinking how much I've learned about him with this outburst.
Equally out-of-the-blue, he says,
"Do you want to go get naked?"
Laughing out loud, I reply, "No, not really!"
If this is his pick-up line, he needs to work on it.
With two divorces under my belt, I sometimes doubt my ability to choose wisely when it comes to men and relationships. But I think God is sending me some easy pitches to regain my confidence. This one was easy. Thanks, up there!
Addendum in response to an anonymous post: I meant to write and post this earlier in the week, but this week has been incredibly hectic for me. I apologize for making you wait for the story!
I saw him again last Friday. Still breathtakingly cute. He smiled sheepishly and said I must be mad at him (for ditching me last time). I said no, not mad, just a little disappointed. Well, this time he wasn't letting me get away. We talked for a couple hours and had a nice conversation. I told him I was expecting my gay boyfriend to show up with his mom. He kinda raised his eyebrow at that but went on to say how he doesn't judge others and understands how women feel safe with gay guys.
When said gay boyfriend arrived, I introduced them briefly and left Mr. Gorgeous to help the family (mom, aunt, friend and brother were all there) find a table. When I came back to Gorgeous, he vehemently said, "I'm not shaking that guy's hand!" This was really out-of-the-blue, because he wasn't anywhere around at the time. I reassured him that gayness "doesn't rub off" and reminded him that this guy, in addition to being a good friend of mine, was a human being just like us. Gorgeous-now-looking-less-so went on to explain that he doesn't condone that kind of behavior. So, it's getting uncomfortable at this point, and we change the subject as I'm thinking how much I've learned about him with this outburst.
Equally out-of-the-blue, he says,
"Do you want to go get naked?"
Laughing out loud, I reply, "No, not really!"
If this is his pick-up line, he needs to work on it.
With two divorces under my belt, I sometimes doubt my ability to choose wisely when it comes to men and relationships. But I think God is sending me some easy pitches to regain my confidence. This one was easy. Thanks, up there!
Addendum in response to an anonymous post: I meant to write and post this earlier in the week, but this week has been incredibly hectic for me. I apologize for making you wait for the story!
Monday, August 22, 2005
Blog Spam?!?
I type in my blog address to see if anyone has posted comments. I'm thrilled to see there's 9 comments to my earlier post...and then I read them. Seven of them were spam! I haven't experienced this before, but I'm pissed! Each one said something like "Love your blog. I'll be bookmarking it. Hey, check out my site on landscaping/poker/cialis/party hostesses/Russian girls, etc..."
Don't put your filth on my site!
However, if you are a true reader/family/friend, please do leave a comment. I love getting the feedback and knowing I made you laugh or at least wrote something that you can relate to.
Don't put your filth on my site!
However, if you are a true reader/family/friend, please do leave a comment. I love getting the feedback and knowing I made you laugh or at least wrote something that you can relate to.
New beginnings for Annie
On Sunday, I helped my goddaughter Annie move into her college dorm for her freshman year at North Texas University. She's excited and apprehensive about all the new things she'll be experiencing. The dorm is nice but no frills. Annie has always had her own room, so cramming all her stuff into half a room was a challenge, but it looked good when we left.
On one of the many trips up to the second floor of the dormitory, Annie met her Resident Advisor. On another trip, the RA stopped me and said, "I'm sorry, I've forgotten your name." I just smiled and said "Don't worry about it. I'm not moving in -- it's my goddaughter!"
Several upperclassmen were volunteering to help the freshmen move their boxes and stuff into the dorms. It was great because both of Annie's parents have back problems at the moment. (Her dad has had a bad back for years, and her mom -- my BF -- fell last week and bruised her shoulder blade and back.) I was expecting to do most of the heavy lifting myself, but there were lots of young people ready and willing to help.
To move her television, BF and I enlisted the help of a young guy with a nametag of Todd. He started asking me lots of questions, and I got the idea that he thought I was moving in. When I said, "I'm not the one moving in. I graduated from college 11 years ago." his eyebrows shot up and he said, "Wow. You carry your age well!"
Ha ha ha! I think that's a combination of "you carry yourself well" and "you age well" or something.
BF wouldn't even laugh about it. She gets annoyed that people think I'm younger than I am. But I thought it was pretty cool.
On one of the many trips up to the second floor of the dormitory, Annie met her Resident Advisor. On another trip, the RA stopped me and said, "I'm sorry, I've forgotten your name." I just smiled and said "Don't worry about it. I'm not moving in -- it's my goddaughter!"
Several upperclassmen were volunteering to help the freshmen move their boxes and stuff into the dorms. It was great because both of Annie's parents have back problems at the moment. (Her dad has had a bad back for years, and her mom -- my BF -- fell last week and bruised her shoulder blade and back.) I was expecting to do most of the heavy lifting myself, but there were lots of young people ready and willing to help.
To move her television, BF and I enlisted the help of a young guy with a nametag of Todd. He started asking me lots of questions, and I got the idea that he thought I was moving in. When I said, "I'm not the one moving in. I graduated from college 11 years ago." his eyebrows shot up and he said, "Wow. You carry your age well!"
Ha ha ha! I think that's a combination of "you carry yourself well" and "you age well" or something.
BF wouldn't even laugh about it. She gets annoyed that people think I'm younger than I am. But I thought it was pretty cool.
Thursday, August 18, 2005
Things my sister wanted to know about me
My sister Jenn is a very talented writer, in addition to being a great mom and wonderful veterinarian. I check her blog daily to read the latest about my niece and nephew or her work or just life in general. So, when she recently wrote about getting a meme (in the blogger world, a meme is like a theme passed from blog to blog) and solicited requests to be interviewed, I naively accepted the challenge.
The following are her questions and my answers.
1) If you could go back and change your birth order, would you? What would you pick?
You're trying to goad me here...I know it. Based on the old home movies of my reaction when little sister Stephanie was brought home from the hospital, I'm guessing I would have been happy being the baby. I've never really given this much thought. I read The Birth Order Book and found it very interesting, but of the many times I've wished I could go back and change something in my life, this isn't in the top 100. I try to learn from what I've been given (middle child) and use that positively.
2) If you could relocate to any other city, and your friends and family would still be close, and you'd still have a great job, what city would you choose?
I'm not sure exactly, but I know it would be on the coast. I just love the water. It speaks to my soul and makes me feel calm. Of the coastal cities I've been to, possible options would include Seattle, San Francisco, or San Diego.
3) What is one of your happiest childhood memories?
Sitting around the dining room table with my family and singing songs to Daddy's guitar playing after dinner. I remember when Daddy was teaching us harmony, and we were all singing "Dreams" by the Everly Brothers. Mommy sang one part with Jenn and Steph, and Daddy and I were singing the other part. I kept getting swayed to sing with the other girls, and we'd begin again. Then suddenly, it just clicked, and I could hear the other part but still sing my part. I love the sounds of harmony and our whole family singing together.
4) Describe an ideal first date.
First, a description by what it's not: none of the first dates I've ever been on. To me, a first date is awkward, both people trying to figure each other out and impress the other. An ideal first date would be with the ideal person: someone with whom you feel comfortable being yourself, where conversation flows easily and you find yourself laughing often. I would like a slow dinner in a restaurant that's not too noisy, so you don't have to shout to be heard or strain to hear what he's saying. And if there's chemistry, which on the ideal date there would be, end the evening with plans to see each other again and a short kiss.
5) What is your favorite physical attribute?
Of myself? Probably my eyes or my lips. Although as we age, our lips pale in color and wrinkle and get thin, so I'm sticking with the eyes. Even though the skin around them changes with age, your eyes are the "windows to the soul" from birth to death. I like that I have large, hazel eyes. They occasionally change color, like when I cry, they get really green.
Okay, that's it! Now, who's next?
Want an interview of your own? Instructions:
1. If you want to participate, leave a comment below saying “Interview me.” You must leave your blog address so I can think of good questions for you! Caveat: Offer is limited to the first 5 responders with a blog.
2. I will respond by asking you five questions - each person’s will be different. I’ll post the questions in the comments section of this post.
3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview others in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.
The following are her questions and my answers.
1) If you could go back and change your birth order, would you? What would you pick?
You're trying to goad me here...I know it. Based on the old home movies of my reaction when little sister Stephanie was brought home from the hospital, I'm guessing I would have been happy being the baby. I've never really given this much thought. I read The Birth Order Book and found it very interesting, but of the many times I've wished I could go back and change something in my life, this isn't in the top 100. I try to learn from what I've been given (middle child) and use that positively.
2) If you could relocate to any other city, and your friends and family would still be close, and you'd still have a great job, what city would you choose?
I'm not sure exactly, but I know it would be on the coast. I just love the water. It speaks to my soul and makes me feel calm. Of the coastal cities I've been to, possible options would include Seattle, San Francisco, or San Diego.
3) What is one of your happiest childhood memories?
Sitting around the dining room table with my family and singing songs to Daddy's guitar playing after dinner. I remember when Daddy was teaching us harmony, and we were all singing "Dreams" by the Everly Brothers. Mommy sang one part with Jenn and Steph, and Daddy and I were singing the other part. I kept getting swayed to sing with the other girls, and we'd begin again. Then suddenly, it just clicked, and I could hear the other part but still sing my part. I love the sounds of harmony and our whole family singing together.
4) Describe an ideal first date.
First, a description by what it's not: none of the first dates I've ever been on. To me, a first date is awkward, both people trying to figure each other out and impress the other. An ideal first date would be with the ideal person: someone with whom you feel comfortable being yourself, where conversation flows easily and you find yourself laughing often. I would like a slow dinner in a restaurant that's not too noisy, so you don't have to shout to be heard or strain to hear what he's saying. And if there's chemistry, which on the ideal date there would be, end the evening with plans to see each other again and a short kiss.
5) What is your favorite physical attribute?
Of myself? Probably my eyes or my lips. Although as we age, our lips pale in color and wrinkle and get thin, so I'm sticking with the eyes. Even though the skin around them changes with age, your eyes are the "windows to the soul" from birth to death. I like that I have large, hazel eyes. They occasionally change color, like when I cry, they get really green.
Okay, that's it! Now, who's next?
Want an interview of your own? Instructions:
1. If you want to participate, leave a comment below saying “Interview me.” You must leave your blog address so I can think of good questions for you! Caveat: Offer is limited to the first 5 responders with a blog.
2. I will respond by asking you five questions - each person’s will be different. I’ll post the questions in the comments section of this post.
3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview others in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.
Wednesday, August 17, 2005
Don't feel like being seen in public
I've been travelling for work the past couple days. A group of us left on Sunday night and returned home late last night. Although I'd met this client before, you always want to present yourself in the best possible manner.
So when I noticed a nasty zit right in the entrance of my right nostril on Sunday night, I wasn't thrilled. Besides being terribly painful, it made half my nose really red. And I definitely didn't want anyone to mistake it for a booger.
Monday night, I was equally disappointed to find a NEW nasty zit between my eyes at the top of my nose. (It's not equidistant between my eyes, more to the right side.) It's also very painful, and now I'm concerned that everyone is looking at IT rather than looking into my eyes.
To round it all out, I have a nervous habit of picking my nails to bits. It's a life-long habit that I have tried to break numerous times. Actually, I think as a child, I bit my nails, now I just pick at them. So, during these all-day meetings, my nails and cuticles suffered. Monday was the left hand, and Tuesday was the right.
I'm a mess. Glad to be home, but I wish it was cold enough to wear a ski mask and gloves all day long to hide my glaring imperfections.
So when I noticed a nasty zit right in the entrance of my right nostril on Sunday night, I wasn't thrilled. Besides being terribly painful, it made half my nose really red. And I definitely didn't want anyone to mistake it for a booger.
Monday night, I was equally disappointed to find a NEW nasty zit between my eyes at the top of my nose. (It's not equidistant between my eyes, more to the right side.) It's also very painful, and now I'm concerned that everyone is looking at IT rather than looking into my eyes.
To round it all out, I have a nervous habit of picking my nails to bits. It's a life-long habit that I have tried to break numerous times. Actually, I think as a child, I bit my nails, now I just pick at them. So, during these all-day meetings, my nails and cuticles suffered. Monday was the left hand, and Tuesday was the right.
I'm a mess. Glad to be home, but I wish it was cold enough to wear a ski mask and gloves all day long to hide my glaring imperfections.
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
Nothing much
I haven't written in five days. Sorry if you've been checking for something new. I just haven't been inspired to write much. Or, I've thought of a topic and then discounted it, thinking it wasn't entertaining enough.
I met a really interesting guy on Friday night. He looks like a guy I had a crush on (oh...who am I kidding? I still have a crush on) that lives in New York. This guy, Mel, just moved to Austin from Dallas. We had a great conversation about our respective careers and the differences between Austin and Dallas. He was funny and witty and very complimentary. I didn't realize until later that I was standing on his right the whole time. I didn't even notice the wedding band, and I usually look for those right off. I was so disappointed. He noticed my obvious disappointment and said he hadn't meant to mislead me. [Sigh] I knew he seemed too good to be true.
My gay boyfriend, Daniel, comes back into town this week. Yea! My dancing partner is back! His mom is coming to visit, too, and he wants me to meet her. Should be interesting. His mom knows he's gay but isn't thrilled about it. I wonder if hanging out with an older divorcee will be considered good or worse? ha ha
I met a really interesting guy on Friday night. He looks like a guy I had a crush on (oh...who am I kidding? I still have a crush on) that lives in New York. This guy, Mel, just moved to Austin from Dallas. We had a great conversation about our respective careers and the differences between Austin and Dallas. He was funny and witty and very complimentary. I didn't realize until later that I was standing on his right the whole time. I didn't even notice the wedding band, and I usually look for those right off. I was so disappointed. He noticed my obvious disappointment and said he hadn't meant to mislead me. [Sigh] I knew he seemed too good to be true.
My gay boyfriend, Daniel, comes back into town this week. Yea! My dancing partner is back! His mom is coming to visit, too, and he wants me to meet her. Should be interesting. His mom knows he's gay but isn't thrilled about it. I wonder if hanging out with an older divorcee will be considered good or worse? ha ha
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
Pet Peeves
A list of things that really get on my nerves (in no particular order):
1. Hair in the sink. Why is it that hair is beautiful on a loved one's head, but if one strand leaves the bunch and is then found in another location, it's icky. Add to this my own hair strands when they flee their proper location and wrap around my arms. I'm always freaked out that it's a bug crawling on me.
2. Bugs. Especially those that attempt to crawl on me.
3. People (notably coworkers) who leave their dishes in the sink when there are TWO empty dishwashers with signs on them stating they are empty. There's also a sign about "your mother doesn't work here...clean up after yourself." Yes, we have a janitor, but he has the whole huge building to care for. His main responsibility is not getting your used coffee cup into the dishwasher.
4. Long-time married people that give me suggestions on how to meet guys:
"Have you tried church?" I've tried multiple churches.
"It's always best to get set up by friends." Done that, no success yet. Everyone left says they don't know any other singles.
"Have you tried a dating service?" Currently trying #4.
"Anyone nice at your work?" Been there, done that. Probably not going to venture there again.
"You need to get out there." And exactly where is out there?
5. Eating less and working out more and still no change on the f***ing scale.
6. People who drive slow in the left lane. The left lane is for PASSING, idiots. If several cars go around you on the right, you're probably going too slow to be in the left, otherwise known as "fast," lane.
7. Meetings during lunchtime that don't include lunch.
8. Stupid people. Now, if someone is ignorant, they can be taught. But if you're stupid, there's just not much hope for you.
9. Americans who travel abroad and expect everything to be just like America. Even the language. If you're going to be that arrogant, don't leave your little town.
10. Cigarette smoking. I don't get it. It's not cool, it makes you smell, it stains your teeth and it's the number one cause of lung cancer. And I'm allergic and asthmatic, so keep it away from me.
11. Skinny people who moan that they've gained weight. Do you want to compare saddlebags or potbellies? I win, so shut up.
1. Hair in the sink. Why is it that hair is beautiful on a loved one's head, but if one strand leaves the bunch and is then found in another location, it's icky. Add to this my own hair strands when they flee their proper location and wrap around my arms. I'm always freaked out that it's a bug crawling on me.
2. Bugs. Especially those that attempt to crawl on me.
3. People (notably coworkers) who leave their dishes in the sink when there are TWO empty dishwashers with signs on them stating they are empty. There's also a sign about "your mother doesn't work here...clean up after yourself." Yes, we have a janitor, but he has the whole huge building to care for. His main responsibility is not getting your used coffee cup into the dishwasher.
4. Long-time married people that give me suggestions on how to meet guys:
"Have you tried church?" I've tried multiple churches.
"It's always best to get set up by friends." Done that, no success yet. Everyone left says they don't know any other singles.
"Have you tried a dating service?" Currently trying #4.
"Anyone nice at your work?" Been there, done that. Probably not going to venture there again.
"You need to get out there." And exactly where is out there?
5. Eating less and working out more and still no change on the f***ing scale.
6. People who drive slow in the left lane. The left lane is for PASSING, idiots. If several cars go around you on the right, you're probably going too slow to be in the left, otherwise known as "fast," lane.
7. Meetings during lunchtime that don't include lunch.
8. Stupid people. Now, if someone is ignorant, they can be taught. But if you're stupid, there's just not much hope for you.
9. Americans who travel abroad and expect everything to be just like America. Even the language. If you're going to be that arrogant, don't leave your little town.
10. Cigarette smoking. I don't get it. It's not cool, it makes you smell, it stains your teeth and it's the number one cause of lung cancer. And I'm allergic and asthmatic, so keep it away from me.
11. Skinny people who moan that they've gained weight. Do you want to compare saddlebags or potbellies? I win, so shut up.
Monday, August 08, 2005
Weekend Report
I got my hair cut on Saturday. (Finally!) Nothing too radical. I entertained the idea of really cutting it short or doing something really different, but in the end, I chickened out. I just had 3 inches and more layers cut. (By the way, NO ONE has noticed here at work. Very observant folks here.)
So I was feeling pretty spunky Saturday night and decided to hit my local club for some live music and dancing. As I was enjoying a drink at the bar, I got a tap on my shoulder. I turned to see an older man of at least 70 smiling and asking me if I would like to dance, assuring me that he was a really good dancer. Ah, what the hell?
It was early in the evening, and we were the only ones on the dance floor. He told me he's a dance instructor, and his moves cracked me up. He spun around, pretended to wipe his brow with his hand and pointed at me. I just kept laughing.
When the song was over, I appropriately thanked him and he asked me if I was there with friends. I said yes, they just hadn't arrived yet (easier to explain than the truth of being there alone AND I didn't want him to feel he had to rescue me from my aloneness). I went back to the bar and a woman grabbed my arm.
"You can say you're with us!" motioning to her husband. "We were watching and felt so bad for you!"
I just kept laughing and assured her the guy was a gentleman. When he came by to ask me again later, I was talking to a gorgeous guy (more my own age), who later ditched me for a table of girls. Guess one wasn't enough for him.
I also met two guys who were in town for company training. One was from Trinidad, the other from Ireland. They were very interesting and cute, and they enjoyed beating me soundly at several games of pool. (I'm terrible, to put it nicely.) I convinced them I was much better at dancing than pool. The Irish guy asked me which of them I liked better. (I was flirting with both of them.) I said I liked them both, and he intimated that I could choose to go home with either of them. I was having fun, but I just smiled and said, "I'm not going home with either of you. I'm going home alone!" They laughed, and we continued to just hang out and dance.
Training note: I lifted weights on Friday and took a long bike ride on Saturday through my neighborhood which includes several steep hills. (Jenn, I only stopped for water breaks. I didn't have to walk up any of the hills!) Jennifer and I are gearing up for the next Women's Adventure Race in Ft. Worth on September 11.
So I was feeling pretty spunky Saturday night and decided to hit my local club for some live music and dancing. As I was enjoying a drink at the bar, I got a tap on my shoulder. I turned to see an older man of at least 70 smiling and asking me if I would like to dance, assuring me that he was a really good dancer. Ah, what the hell?
It was early in the evening, and we were the only ones on the dance floor. He told me he's a dance instructor, and his moves cracked me up. He spun around, pretended to wipe his brow with his hand and pointed at me. I just kept laughing.
When the song was over, I appropriately thanked him and he asked me if I was there with friends. I said yes, they just hadn't arrived yet (easier to explain than the truth of being there alone AND I didn't want him to feel he had to rescue me from my aloneness). I went back to the bar and a woman grabbed my arm.
"You can say you're with us!" motioning to her husband. "We were watching and felt so bad for you!"
I just kept laughing and assured her the guy was a gentleman. When he came by to ask me again later, I was talking to a gorgeous guy (more my own age), who later ditched me for a table of girls. Guess one wasn't enough for him.
I also met two guys who were in town for company training. One was from Trinidad, the other from Ireland. They were very interesting and cute, and they enjoyed beating me soundly at several games of pool. (I'm terrible, to put it nicely.) I convinced them I was much better at dancing than pool. The Irish guy asked me which of them I liked better. (I was flirting with both of them.) I said I liked them both, and he intimated that I could choose to go home with either of them. I was having fun, but I just smiled and said, "I'm not going home with either of you. I'm going home alone!" They laughed, and we continued to just hang out and dance.
Training note: I lifted weights on Friday and took a long bike ride on Saturday through my neighborhood which includes several steep hills. (Jenn, I only stopped for water breaks. I didn't have to walk up any of the hills!) Jennifer and I are gearing up for the next Women's Adventure Race in Ft. Worth on September 11.
Friday, August 05, 2005
Just my luck
My mom sent me a funny card this week. A girl is sitting alone on the beach, watching two hotties play volleyball. It says, "Why are all the best guys either married or gay?" The inside goes on to say, (paraphrasing), "or assholes? or slobs who leave toenail clippings around? or[something else completely undesirable]?"
(The card didn't really use profanity, but that word kinda sums up a lot of men that I've had the unfortunate opportunity to meet.)
A guy friend of mine, who reads my blog but is too chicken to leave a comment, remarked that I have the worst luck in men. It made me laugh, but it also made me feel really good to get that validation.
I was thinking this morning, it's been 14 months since I broke up with Rod. (I was going to come up with a witty, descriptive nickname for him, but I couldn't think of anything that would completely describe all the bullshit.) This is the longest I think I've ever gone without a boyfriend, and I don't say that in a sad, pity-me way because in many ways, it's been a very positive thing. I've gotten a lot stronger in who I am and what I want and know that I won't settle for less than I deserve.
By the way, I did get a marriage proposal this week. My gay boyfriend Daniel had to go home to Mexico this week to renew his visa or something and asked me half-joking, half-serious to marry him so he could get legal status in the States. I just laughed and said "can you imagine what my parents would say/think?" Ha ha ha!
(The card didn't really use profanity, but that word kinda sums up a lot of men that I've had the unfortunate opportunity to meet.)
A guy friend of mine, who reads my blog but is too chicken to leave a comment, remarked that I have the worst luck in men. It made me laugh, but it also made me feel really good to get that validation.
I was thinking this morning, it's been 14 months since I broke up with Rod. (I was going to come up with a witty, descriptive nickname for him, but I couldn't think of anything that would completely describe all the bullshit.) This is the longest I think I've ever gone without a boyfriend, and I don't say that in a sad, pity-me way because in many ways, it's been a very positive thing. I've gotten a lot stronger in who I am and what I want and know that I won't settle for less than I deserve.
By the way, I did get a marriage proposal this week. My gay boyfriend Daniel had to go home to Mexico this week to renew his visa or something and asked me half-joking, half-serious to marry him so he could get legal status in the States. I just laughed and said "can you imagine what my parents would say/think?" Ha ha ha!
Wednesday, August 03, 2005
What happened?
Brief synopsis: "37, never married, single professional in Ft. Worth, 5'11", born and raised in Montana, enjoys fly fishing, hiking, going out or staying in. Looking for a woman who is independent, spontaneous, honest and attractive."
He emailed me (through Match) and expressed an interest. Ok, I thought. He's cute, professional and seems to have a lot of the qualities I'm looking for. I wrote back, and we exchanged several emails.
Then, he wrote back, "I know this is last-minute, but would you like to meet for a drink tonight?"
Throwing caution to the wind, I decided to do it. After all, I was planning on an evening of the gym and re-runs.
We met, and he was cute and nice and fun...we left the bar and went out for dinner. We talked until 10 p.m. and as he was leaving, he remarked, "Oh! I don't have your number." I offered to email it to him and did that night with a note saying I'd had a great time.
That was 6 days ago... (crickets chirping)
He emailed me (through Match) and expressed an interest. Ok, I thought. He's cute, professional and seems to have a lot of the qualities I'm looking for. I wrote back, and we exchanged several emails.
Then, he wrote back, "I know this is last-minute, but would you like to meet for a drink tonight?"
Throwing caution to the wind, I decided to do it. After all, I was planning on an evening of the gym and re-runs.
We met, and he was cute and nice and fun...we left the bar and went out for dinner. We talked until 10 p.m. and as he was leaving, he remarked, "Oh! I don't have your number." I offered to email it to him and did that night with a note saying I'd had a great time.
That was 6 days ago... (crickets chirping)
Tuesday, August 02, 2005
Do what you love
Every Monday for the past four years, I volunteer at the local county hospital, Parkland, in the neonatal intensive care unit. I hold premies, feed them, change diapers and help the nurses as much as possible. With my health background, I'm fascinated by the medical procedures and abnormalities that I've seen. I'm sickened by the parents who subject their unborn children to the effects of illegal drugs, and I try to give all the babies I meet some love and attention that they need so much at this time in their lives.
I love my volunteer work, so much so that it doesn't seem like work at all. It's so rewarding to me, and the nurses I've gotten to know are such beautiful, caring people. I really miss seeing the babies when I have to miss a Monday because of travelling for work or when I'm sick. (And, by the way, I know that here in the States "travelling" is only supposed to have one L, but it looks weird to me, and since my dad's from the U.K., I'm claiming exemption and sticking with the proper English! It's not a typo.)
I met my best friend (BF) 11 years ago when she was a volunteer at the non-profit I was working for. We have volunteered together over the years at many different community and church events. Her husband also has a volunteer spirit, and they have instilled this in their daughter, too. He is very active with his own religion's community group and is currently heading up a transportation committee for a week-long event for young athletes. The youth have arrived from all over the nation and from a couple of different countries for an Olympics-type competition. BF literally begged me to help, to volunteer for an evening or two.
I got a postcard in the mail (in BF's handwriting) stating I was signed up to volunteer three evenings this week -- Monday, Wednesday and Thursday. Grr...so not only do I have to miss Parkland, but I have to reschedule with my counselor whom I usually see on Wednesday evenings. This time is critical to my maintaining some semblance of sanity.
Oh, and can you be at the event site at 5 p.m.?
My work is very demanding and hectic. We are currently in a tremendous growth spurt, and there's more work than resources. Oh, and our hours are (at minimum) 8:30-5:30.
Okay, so I bust my butt to get outta work at 4:55 and drive to the event location. I got there at 5:15. Not bad considering Dallas traffic. I checked in with the volunteer coordinator and found BF's husband. He told me we were awaiting the buses bringing the kids and would be directing them into the building.
It's hot here in Dallas in August. I could feel the sweat dripping down my back and soaking my bra as we waited.
The 45 buses finally arrived around 7:00. (Sooo glad I rushed out of work to stand around in the heat...) We got all the kids inside, reminding them to remember which bus they were on because that would be the one they were to return on. Several of the volunteers loudly vocalized their opinions of how the process could have been handled more efficiently. There were too many chiefs in this crowd.
I guess a lot of the volunteers know each other, but I didn't know any of them. A couple of them asked me how I had gotten involved, but after the initial pleasantries, they pretty much left me alone. So I had a couple hours to sit around and think to myself and watch other people. (Boring!)
We got the kids back on the buses starting at 9 p.m. No surprise, several kids couldn't remember which bus was theirs. We finally got everyone on the correct bus and headed back to the community center, where the host families would be picking up their kids. More chaos ensued there, and I finally got home around 11 p.m. Needless to say, I'm exhausted.
I kept telling myself that I was doing a good thing by volunteering, but I was left with a bad taste in my mouth. I'm going back to the babies.
I love my volunteer work, so much so that it doesn't seem like work at all. It's so rewarding to me, and the nurses I've gotten to know are such beautiful, caring people. I really miss seeing the babies when I have to miss a Monday because of travelling for work or when I'm sick. (And, by the way, I know that here in the States "travelling" is only supposed to have one L, but it looks weird to me, and since my dad's from the U.K., I'm claiming exemption and sticking with the proper English! It's not a typo.)
I met my best friend (BF) 11 years ago when she was a volunteer at the non-profit I was working for. We have volunteered together over the years at many different community and church events. Her husband also has a volunteer spirit, and they have instilled this in their daughter, too. He is very active with his own religion's community group and is currently heading up a transportation committee for a week-long event for young athletes. The youth have arrived from all over the nation and from a couple of different countries for an Olympics-type competition. BF literally begged me to help, to volunteer for an evening or two.
I got a postcard in the mail (in BF's handwriting) stating I was signed up to volunteer three evenings this week -- Monday, Wednesday and Thursday. Grr...so not only do I have to miss Parkland, but I have to reschedule with my counselor whom I usually see on Wednesday evenings. This time is critical to my maintaining some semblance of sanity.
Oh, and can you be at the event site at 5 p.m.?
My work is very demanding and hectic. We are currently in a tremendous growth spurt, and there's more work than resources. Oh, and our hours are (at minimum) 8:30-5:30.
Okay, so I bust my butt to get outta work at 4:55 and drive to the event location. I got there at 5:15. Not bad considering Dallas traffic. I checked in with the volunteer coordinator and found BF's husband. He told me we were awaiting the buses bringing the kids and would be directing them into the building.
It's hot here in Dallas in August. I could feel the sweat dripping down my back and soaking my bra as we waited.
The 45 buses finally arrived around 7:00. (Sooo glad I rushed out of work to stand around in the heat...) We got all the kids inside, reminding them to remember which bus they were on because that would be the one they were to return on. Several of the volunteers loudly vocalized their opinions of how the process could have been handled more efficiently. There were too many chiefs in this crowd.
I guess a lot of the volunteers know each other, but I didn't know any of them. A couple of them asked me how I had gotten involved, but after the initial pleasantries, they pretty much left me alone. So I had a couple hours to sit around and think to myself and watch other people. (Boring!)
We got the kids back on the buses starting at 9 p.m. No surprise, several kids couldn't remember which bus was theirs. We finally got everyone on the correct bus and headed back to the community center, where the host families would be picking up their kids. More chaos ensued there, and I finally got home around 11 p.m. Needless to say, I'm exhausted.
I kept telling myself that I was doing a good thing by volunteering, but I was left with a bad taste in my mouth. I'm going back to the babies.
Monday, August 01, 2005
The words I've been longing to hear
On Friday, I actually dressed up for work. (We have a very casual environment where flip-flops and t-shirts are perfectly acceptable, although I actually don't wear either of those to work.) The president and senior VP were taking the presentation team for that big pitch we recently won out to lunch at Nobu, the most talked-about highly regarded Japanese restaurant currently in Dallas. We weren't told beforehand where we were going, just told to be "well-dressed."
So I actually wore a skirt and heels. (My feet were screaming at me by the end of the day, but hey, I looked good.)
My VP said to me, "Have you been losing weight?"
Ah...such a nice thing to say!
(By the way, the food was incredible.)
So I actually wore a skirt and heels. (My feet were screaming at me by the end of the day, but hey, I looked good.)
My VP said to me, "Have you been losing weight?"
Ah...such a nice thing to say!
(By the way, the food was incredible.)
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
You know you need to lose weight when...
I was reading someone else's blog, and it reminded me of this story.
A couple years ago, when Rod and I were together, we went down to Austin to visit my sister Jennifer and her family. Jenn and Anthony are very frugal, and they also don't make big decisions or big purchases quickly. Anthony is very diligent in researching options and looking for the best price of things.
They have a kitchen dinette set that they have had for at least 8 years. It was perfect for them when they were a newly married couple, but after a couple kids and the MIL's dog scratching the top, let's just say they could do better. I have done my part to try and encourage a new purchase...
So we were all sitting around at their table, Jenn, Anth, little Anna, Rod and me, enjoying a delicious home-cooked meal by Jenn and some tasty wine. (I think this was before Colin was born.) All of the sudden, we hear a loud cracking noise, and I feel the seat beneath me giving way. There I am on the floor with the chair I had been occupying now split under me. My ass hurt, but my pride hurt more. Jenn exclaimed, "Are you ok?" but the guys just couldn't stop laughing. Now there were only 5 chairs.
Fast forward to a couple weekends ago when I was down there visiting and participating in the race with Jenn. They have such a cozy house, and it's so nice to sit around the table with a whole family...very different than my usual meal of take-out or leftovers in front of the TV. There we were, sitting around the table, unprepared for the CRACK! Oh no, not again! Oh, yes...the chair beneath me cracked and crashed to the floor. Anthony busted out laughing while I was saying, "Not again! Not again!" I can't believe with all the people who have sat at that table on those same chairs, only I have broken not one, but TWO! As I've posted before, I've really been struggling with my weight, and this is VERY disheartening.
Part martyr, part able-to-laugh-at-myself, the next day, Anna wanted to sit in the chair I had brought in from the other room (not one of the original set). I told her it was ok, but then I would have to sit in her chair (one of the originals). And I said to her, "You know what happens when Auntie Emily sits in those chairs..." And she soberly replied, "Yeah. They break."
So now there are 4...
A couple years ago, when Rod and I were together, we went down to Austin to visit my sister Jennifer and her family. Jenn and Anthony are very frugal, and they also don't make big decisions or big purchases quickly. Anthony is very diligent in researching options and looking for the best price of things.
They have a kitchen dinette set that they have had for at least 8 years. It was perfect for them when they were a newly married couple, but after a couple kids and the MIL's dog scratching the top, let's just say they could do better. I have done my part to try and encourage a new purchase...
So we were all sitting around at their table, Jenn, Anth, little Anna, Rod and me, enjoying a delicious home-cooked meal by Jenn and some tasty wine. (I think this was before Colin was born.) All of the sudden, we hear a loud cracking noise, and I feel the seat beneath me giving way. There I am on the floor with the chair I had been occupying now split under me. My ass hurt, but my pride hurt more. Jenn exclaimed, "Are you ok?" but the guys just couldn't stop laughing. Now there were only 5 chairs.
Fast forward to a couple weekends ago when I was down there visiting and participating in the race with Jenn. They have such a cozy house, and it's so nice to sit around the table with a whole family...very different than my usual meal of take-out or leftovers in front of the TV. There we were, sitting around the table, unprepared for the CRACK! Oh no, not again! Oh, yes...the chair beneath me cracked and crashed to the floor. Anthony busted out laughing while I was saying, "Not again! Not again!" I can't believe with all the people who have sat at that table on those same chairs, only I have broken not one, but TWO! As I've posted before, I've really been struggling with my weight, and this is VERY disheartening.
Part martyr, part able-to-laugh-at-myself, the next day, Anna wanted to sit in the chair I had brought in from the other room (not one of the original set). I told her it was ok, but then I would have to sit in her chair (one of the originals). And I said to her, "You know what happens when Auntie Emily sits in those chairs..." And she soberly replied, "Yeah. They break."
So now there are 4...
It's not you, it's me
So Ed, the guy I had brunch with (see Online dating sucks...), text-messaged me on my phone on Monday saying he'd enjoyed meeting me, etc. I struggled with whether to reply and what to say. I decided to be honest with him and not just leave him wondering. I wrote back it was nice to meet him, too, but it just wasn't a connection for me, and wished him good luck.
He wrote back: "I figured you felt that way. Just curious, what was not right? Please be honest. I appreciate the feedback."
ARE YOU KIDDING ME?
Again, I struggled with whether I need to write back. I mean, how do you say in a nice, non-offending way, "I don't think you're attractive, you talk too much and you don't watch the news!" I decided to ask a few friends and coworkers for their advice. Here's what they suggested I write back:
Stephen L: "Unsubscribe."
He wrote back: "I figured you felt that way. Just curious, what was not right? Please be honest. I appreciate the feedback."
ARE YOU KIDDING ME?
Again, I struggled with whether I need to write back. I mean, how do you say in a nice, non-offending way, "I don't think you're attractive, you talk too much and you don't watch the news!" I decided to ask a few friends and coworkers for their advice. Here's what they suggested I write back:
Janet: "My degree was in health education, not psychology. Get a counselor if you want feedback."
Stephen M: "Case in point."Stephen L: "Unsubscribe."
Monday, July 25, 2005
Online dating sucks, but at least I'm meeting people
Although some people have told me I'm too picky, I don't take offense to it. I haven't been picky enough in the past, and now I know what I want and don't want to settle for less than I deserve.
I met someone this weekend that I've been emailing and talking to for a few weeks. He found me through my profile on Match.com. I've enjoyed talking to him. He seems like a gentleman and was reasonably attractive. But there's just no way of knowing until you meet someone in person.
It's still amazing to me how people can look so different from their pictures. I think it's the 2-D versus 3-D effect. When you meet someone in person and then later see a picture of them, your brain automatically makes the connection. However, done in reverse -- seeing a picture of someone and then meeting them in person -- is not always so instantly recognizable. When you see a picture of someone for the first time, your brain fills in the 3-D details -- for example, how much their cheeks or chins protrude from their face. Then you see them in person, and you have to adjust your mental image to the actual.
This guy, Ed, didn't look too different from his photos except for the fact that his cheekbones were more sunken then I had imagined. It just kinda throws you for a while.
The meeting was ok, but I don't think I'll see him again. He talked 80% of the time, hardly giving me a chance to interject anything into the conversation. But the final straw was his admitting that he doesn't watch the news or read newspapers because it doesn't affect his life. I kept thinking about all the terrorist activities that are occurring in London, Madrid and elsewhere...how could you not think your life could be affected? It's already happened in New York and Oklahoma City. It's amazing to me that someone could be so short-sighted and egocentric.
I've tried dating services, church singles groups, getting set up by friends. Online dating isn't perfect, but I think it's probably more reliable than meeting guys in bars.
I met someone this weekend that I've been emailing and talking to for a few weeks. He found me through my profile on Match.com. I've enjoyed talking to him. He seems like a gentleman and was reasonably attractive. But there's just no way of knowing until you meet someone in person.
It's still amazing to me how people can look so different from their pictures. I think it's the 2-D versus 3-D effect. When you meet someone in person and then later see a picture of them, your brain automatically makes the connection. However, done in reverse -- seeing a picture of someone and then meeting them in person -- is not always so instantly recognizable. When you see a picture of someone for the first time, your brain fills in the 3-D details -- for example, how much their cheeks or chins protrude from their face. Then you see them in person, and you have to adjust your mental image to the actual.
This guy, Ed, didn't look too different from his photos except for the fact that his cheekbones were more sunken then I had imagined. It just kinda throws you for a while.
The meeting was ok, but I don't think I'll see him again. He talked 80% of the time, hardly giving me a chance to interject anything into the conversation. But the final straw was his admitting that he doesn't watch the news or read newspapers because it doesn't affect his life. I kept thinking about all the terrorist activities that are occurring in London, Madrid and elsewhere...how could you not think your life could be affected? It's already happened in New York and Oklahoma City. It's amazing to me that someone could be so short-sighted and egocentric.
I've tried dating services, church singles groups, getting set up by friends. Online dating isn't perfect, but I think it's probably more reliable than meeting guys in bars.
Friday, July 22, 2005
Overcoming personal obstacles
I saw an interview with Kate Winslet in which she was discussing society's views of women and their size. She has gotten a lot of negative press about her body, which I think is gorgeous. She said she's not into starving herself or plastic surgery and just eats healthy and stays busy with her two toddlers. She also recounted a conversation she had with Leonardo diCaprio:
She says, "Leo [DiCaprio], when we were doing Titanic, said, 'There are so many girls out there who think that to be successful and to be beautiful and to be loved and respected it means you have to be thin.' And this kind of really struck a chord with me. I thought, 'He's right, this image is being translated to teenage girls.'" Then, Kate says, "When the Academy Awards came around, I thought, 'I'm young. I'm 21 years old and I'm in this movie and it's very successful and I have been nominated for an Academy Award for this and I haven't done any of this through being skinny or through starving myself or anything like that.' And so I thought, 'I'm just going to hold my head high and I'm just going to be the person that I am.'"
I realized that this is a false belief I've held about myself, that to be loved and respected I must be thin. When I think about it logically, it seems ridiculous, but there's a part of me that truly believes this. Right now, I'm the heaviest I've ever been, but this is also the most in shape I've ever been.
I'm also reading this great book suggested to me by my counselor, Jo (a brilliant woman who provides me with great insight and is helping me destruct these false beliefs). Written by Sue Monk Kidd, When the Heart Waits is her personal story of a spiritual journey of sorts. She wrote about a time in her life when she felt stuck and unhappy with her current situation and how she worked through it. I highly recommend it to anyone who feels like they are in a transition time.
She says, "Leo [DiCaprio], when we were doing Titanic, said, 'There are so many girls out there who think that to be successful and to be beautiful and to be loved and respected it means you have to be thin.' And this kind of really struck a chord with me. I thought, 'He's right, this image is being translated to teenage girls.'" Then, Kate says, "When the Academy Awards came around, I thought, 'I'm young. I'm 21 years old and I'm in this movie and it's very successful and I have been nominated for an Academy Award for this and I haven't done any of this through being skinny or through starving myself or anything like that.' And so I thought, 'I'm just going to hold my head high and I'm just going to be the person that I am.'"
I realized that this is a false belief I've held about myself, that to be loved and respected I must be thin. When I think about it logically, it seems ridiculous, but there's a part of me that truly believes this. Right now, I'm the heaviest I've ever been, but this is also the most in shape I've ever been.
I'm also reading this great book suggested to me by my counselor, Jo (a brilliant woman who provides me with great insight and is helping me destruct these false beliefs). Written by Sue Monk Kidd, When the Heart Waits is her personal story of a spiritual journey of sorts. She wrote about a time in her life when she felt stuck and unhappy with her current situation and how she worked through it. I highly recommend it to anyone who feels like they are in a transition time.
Thursday, July 21, 2005
What is the sex of your brain?
I just took an interesting (albeit long) assessment on BBC's site that analyzes how you think and whether your mind is predominantly male or female.
I wasn't surprised to learn that I'm smack in the middle! I have some traits that are very female-oriented, such as verbal ability and empathy, and others that are typically male, such as spatial orientation.
Very interesting. Find out your Sex ID Profile!
I wasn't surprised to learn that I'm smack in the middle! I have some traits that are very female-oriented, such as verbal ability and empathy, and others that are typically male, such as spatial orientation.
Very interesting. Find out your Sex ID Profile!
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
My darling niece and nephew
Colin continues to be my little buddy. He's so sweet, running up to me periodically and leaning against me or coming to give me unbidden kisses! A couple of times this weekend he said all three syllables of my name, but mostly he calls me "Emmy" or "Enny."
Luckily for me, he still sleeps in a crib, so I get to stay in the bed in his room. The first morning I was there, he woke up, stood up in his crib and said, "Whaddya doin'?" I laughed and said, "I'm sleeping!" but I got up and picked him up.
The last morning I was there, I guess he was used to me being there. I heard him rustling around in his crib and peeked out of one eye to see him stand up and looking over at me, "Wake up!" he demanded.
He's certainly talking more and more. He's also asserting himself with his older sister, telling her, "No, Anna! I do it!" and "I turn!" (my turn) He's a mimic, repeating whatever we say, and when I called for Jennifer, he started saying her name, too. "Jennifer!"
On the other hand, Anna is in full imagination mode. Her favorite show is the Backyardigans, a group of six animal characters that find adventure in their backyard. For the past several days, she had claimed to be Pablo and her mom is Tyrone. I became Tasha, and Colin is Austin. Daddy is Daddy Austin. Whenever you say something to her and call her by name (Anna), she says, "You mean 'Pablo'?"
We were shopping on Saturday at Target and Kohl's, and Anna would yell out, "Tyrone! Come find me!" and Jennifer would answer, "Where are you, Pablo?" It struck me as funny to be walking out of these stores with Jennifer saying, "Come on, Pablo" to this little blonde haired girl.
Jennifer is a great sport and really encourages her kids' imagination. Anthony was tiring of it. I understand. You want to just call her Anna and hear her call you by your name. At one point he said something to her about "Mommy" and she said, "You mean 'Tyrone'?" And he said, "No, I mean 'Mommy'." She turned to me and said, "Daddy doesn't like to play Backyardigans."
Luckily for me, he still sleeps in a crib, so I get to stay in the bed in his room. The first morning I was there, he woke up, stood up in his crib and said, "Whaddya doin'?" I laughed and said, "I'm sleeping!" but I got up and picked him up.
The last morning I was there, I guess he was used to me being there. I heard him rustling around in his crib and peeked out of one eye to see him stand up and looking over at me, "Wake up!" he demanded.
He's certainly talking more and more. He's also asserting himself with his older sister, telling her, "No, Anna! I do it!" and "I turn!" (my turn) He's a mimic, repeating whatever we say, and when I called for Jennifer, he started saying her name, too. "Jennifer!"
On the other hand, Anna is in full imagination mode. Her favorite show is the Backyardigans, a group of six animal characters that find adventure in their backyard. For the past several days, she had claimed to be Pablo and her mom is Tyrone. I became Tasha, and Colin is Austin. Daddy is Daddy Austin. Whenever you say something to her and call her by name (Anna), she says, "You mean 'Pablo'?"
We were shopping on Saturday at Target and Kohl's, and Anna would yell out, "Tyrone! Come find me!" and Jennifer would answer, "Where are you, Pablo?" It struck me as funny to be walking out of these stores with Jennifer saying, "Come on, Pablo" to this little blonde haired girl.
Jennifer is a great sport and really encourages her kids' imagination. Anthony was tiring of it. I understand. You want to just call her Anna and hear her call you by your name. At one point he said something to her about "Mommy" and she said, "You mean 'Tyrone'?" And he said, "No, I mean 'Mommy'." She turned to me and said, "Daddy doesn't like to play Backyardigans."
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