Kael at 21 months - the dancing fiend.
Friday, August 31, 2007
The Lucy and Ethel Workout
I know I promised you all a post on our workout. Erin even sent out an email last night wanting to know if we sustained any injuries. But there's really nothing to write about.
Here's our (non) story:
Malia got up from her nap around 6:00pm so the kids and I had dinner with Grandma. Truong was coming home late from work so it would have been tight in terms of getting the kids bathed and in bed before I headed out to the gym. All this was running in the back of my mind as I was eating dinner. Mind you, our plans were to hit the gym between 8:00pm and 8:30pm. It's 7:30pm, Truong shows up and he eats dinner. I'm still eating. It's Grandma's cooking so it's really good. I eat a little more. The kids are done so they start playing. I'm still eating. Grandma's done and she hangs out, chatting. I'm still eating. Truong was still eating so I felt compelled to keep him company.
In the end, I ate so much I felt a little ill. Well, OK, more than a little ill. I felt so ill that it was hard doing the post-dinner walk. This happens regularly with Grandma's cooking: you put food in front of me (that I didn't cook myself) and I'll just keep eating and eating until it's gone. Then I end up getting really sick from over-eating. You'd think I'd learn my lesson some time but apparently my stomach isn't connected to my brain.
As I'm slowly (and painfully) walking with the family, I suddenly remember that I'm supposed to work out tonight. And I had a horrible vision of projectile vomiting while on the treadmill and getting banned from the gym on my first day. Plus I can't believe I'm already slacking and we haven't even done a single workout yet.
I am reluctant to tell Truong how I'm feeling when he asks me when I plan on picking up Shana. I don't want to hear him say whatever dumb thing I'm sure he'd say about signing up and not using the membership. But I feel so bloated that I'd rather hear his "I told you so's" than be the "Girl Who Vomited at 24 Hour Fitness." So I tell him. He doesn't say a word at first. Then he says "I just don't want to see another late night Denny's receipt."
That wasn't so painful. A little embarrassing that he's caught on to our late night food runs and we can't even use the "we're pregnant" excuse, but I can live with that.
Next I call Shana. She picks up and there's hope for me: she sounds totally *blah* on the phone. Like she's expecting me to drag her off to the gym and she's not wanting to go but expecting a nag session. I tell her that I ate too much and can't go now -- but I should be able to go by 8:30pm, 8:45pm (I'm totally lying through my teeth here - going later would just mean me throwing up food that's more digested than if we were to go now). She tells me it's OK because Patrick just took Ryan to Best Buy and they won't be home until later anyway (around 9:00pm). Too late for the gym by then because she's got Gina and Gina's sleeping. Then she says "Good, you're my 'out' for Patrick" -- meaning my over-eating and feeling sick is her excuse for not going to the gym when Patrick gives her beef about slacking off.
Clearly our first foray into our work-out routine did not go as planned. This does not bode well for our "Bodies of Steel" image.
However, our next scheduled work-out is Sunday -- so we can still redeem ourselves.
Are you reading this Shana??
SUNDAY.
I'll pick you up.
Here's our (non) story:
Malia got up from her nap around 6:00pm so the kids and I had dinner with Grandma. Truong was coming home late from work so it would have been tight in terms of getting the kids bathed and in bed before I headed out to the gym. All this was running in the back of my mind as I was eating dinner. Mind you, our plans were to hit the gym between 8:00pm and 8:30pm. It's 7:30pm, Truong shows up and he eats dinner. I'm still eating. It's Grandma's cooking so it's really good. I eat a little more. The kids are done so they start playing. I'm still eating. Grandma's done and she hangs out, chatting. I'm still eating. Truong was still eating so I felt compelled to keep him company.
In the end, I ate so much I felt a little ill. Well, OK, more than a little ill. I felt so ill that it was hard doing the post-dinner walk. This happens regularly with Grandma's cooking: you put food in front of me (that I didn't cook myself) and I'll just keep eating and eating until it's gone. Then I end up getting really sick from over-eating. You'd think I'd learn my lesson some time but apparently my stomach isn't connected to my brain.
As I'm slowly (and painfully) walking with the family, I suddenly remember that I'm supposed to work out tonight. And I had a horrible vision of projectile vomiting while on the treadmill and getting banned from the gym on my first day. Plus I can't believe I'm already slacking and we haven't even done a single workout yet.
I am reluctant to tell Truong how I'm feeling when he asks me when I plan on picking up Shana. I don't want to hear him say whatever dumb thing I'm sure he'd say about signing up and not using the membership. But I feel so bloated that I'd rather hear his "I told you so's" than be the "Girl Who Vomited at 24 Hour Fitness." So I tell him. He doesn't say a word at first. Then he says "I just don't want to see another late night Denny's receipt."
That wasn't so painful. A little embarrassing that he's caught on to our late night food runs and we can't even use the "we're pregnant" excuse, but I can live with that.
Next I call Shana. She picks up and there's hope for me: she sounds totally *blah* on the phone. Like she's expecting me to drag her off to the gym and she's not wanting to go but expecting a nag session. I tell her that I ate too much and can't go now -- but I should be able to go by 8:30pm, 8:45pm (I'm totally lying through my teeth here - going later would just mean me throwing up food that's more digested than if we were to go now). She tells me it's OK because Patrick just took Ryan to Best Buy and they won't be home until later anyway (around 9:00pm). Too late for the gym by then because she's got Gina and Gina's sleeping. Then she says "Good, you're my 'out' for Patrick" -- meaning my over-eating and feeling sick is her excuse for not going to the gym when Patrick gives her beef about slacking off.
Clearly our first foray into our work-out routine did not go as planned. This does not bode well for our "Bodies of Steel" image.
However, our next scheduled work-out is Sunday -- so we can still redeem ourselves.
Are you reading this Shana??
SUNDAY.
I'll pick you up.
Thursday, August 30, 2007
The House of Bugs
That's what the neighbors will be calling our home. Kael is so completely fascinated with creepy crawlies. I know he's going to bring home some weird insect to keep as a pet in his room. He's not afraid to touch bugs and actually likes it when they crawl on him. Yuck! He must get this from Truong because I am beyond creeped out with bugs and it takes everything I have to not run away screaming when he sticks a bug inches from my face to get a closer look.
Thanks to Dad, he's now chasing after and sometimes even catching lizards in our yard. Wouldn't that be a great life-cycle teaching lesson: keeping a lizard in the same container as his bug?
Kael found an inch worm and he was in heaven.
Ugh - I'm getting itchy just looking at this picture.
I am already dreading the time when he asks about raising those #$%*@ silk worms again. My hopes that he'll eventually forget about them are pretty futile as he still talks about them to everyone he meets.
Our Little Angel
Here are some pictures I took of Malia napping this morning.
Doesn't she look so angelic?
So sweet?
So precious?
Well... it took her about 2 hours of goofing off in the crib, with one poopy diaper change and one putting-her-pants-back-on visit before she finally nodded off. Unfortunately, she fell asleep close to 11:00am and I had to wake her up at 11:30am to pick up Kael from school.
Thanks to Dad, he's now chasing after and sometimes even catching lizards in our yard. Wouldn't that be a great life-cycle teaching lesson: keeping a lizard in the same container as his bug?
Kael found an inch worm and he was in heaven.
Ugh - I'm getting itchy just looking at this picture.
I am already dreading the time when he asks about raising those #$%*@ silk worms again. My hopes that he'll eventually forget about them are pretty futile as he still talks about them to everyone he meets.
Our Little Angel
Here are some pictures I took of Malia napping this morning.
Doesn't she look so angelic?
So sweet?
So precious?
Well... it took her about 2 hours of goofing off in the crib, with one poopy diaper change and one putting-her-pants-back-on visit before she finally nodded off. Unfortunately, she fell asleep close to 11:00am and I had to wake her up at 11:30am to pick up Kael from school.
Random Pictures
Kael is swimming with a friend and Malia is still asleep so I'll take this time to post the random pictures I've taken.
The Sweat Test
Remember we had to do that sweat test to check for cystic fibrosis? On the phone they told me they had to hook up electrodes on her arms for 3 minutes. I'm expecting those little white dots with wires, just slap them on under her sleeves and *voile* we're done. In reality, it's these copper cuffs that have a band of velcro around them that need to be secured around her arm (completely around her arm) and there's TWO that need to be fastened. Additionally, there's a current that runs through them, causing a pins and needles feeling in her arm. You all know how teeny tiny Malia is -- the two cuffs basically encircled her entire arm from bicep to wrist.
She. Freaked. Out.
Holy cow she was pissed off. AND it wasn't three minutes. It was FIVE minutes. Per arm. And we could only test one arm at a time!! When she realized we had to do her other arm, she was a flailing mess. The nurse kept saying "Wow, she's really strong... she's really really strong!"
After zapping the right arm, we had to strap the cuffs on the left arm while trying not to touch the right arm and thus contaminating it. Okaaayyy, sure, no problem. Once we got the left arm strapped, we had to hold the right arm still (again not touching the forearm) so the nurse could wrap these special sterile pads in this neat stretchy plastic wrap around Malia's arm to collect her sweat. And when I say "wrap" I mean "WRAP."
After wrapping both arms, I was given a timer set for 20 minutes to do... whatever I could do with a 15 month old to get her sweating. Malia looked like a mini-Michelin man with her white bandage wrapped arms waving around, trying to fling it off.
Here she is - happy to be out of the torture chamber.
I bundled her up hoping to get her sweating.
But then I realized I just needed her arms to sweat so I took her outside and put babylegs on her arms. That did the trick - the nurse complimented me on my sweaty baby.
The Fruit Eaters
I've given up all hope of keeping the car and most notably, the car seat clean. There's no way around it. Both kids can see what I have in the front seat and will demand to eat what I snack on. Of course, there are those of you believe I shouldn't be eating in the car at all (Truong) but when you're home with two kids, you eat what you can and when you can!
Malia taking her first bite out of a pluot. Literally. I usually cut fruits into bite sized chunks but she seems to really like eating fruits this way.
She's started to take my nectarines and peaches as I'm eating them and won't give them back, claiming them for her own.
Kael enjoying his pluot. I just noticed that his forehead is shiny so he must have smeared the pluot on his face. This explains the mile-wide smile.
"No, I'm not sharing. It's all mine."
Sounds like Malia is finally up. We're going swimming with big brother. Tonight is workout #1 with Ethel. I'm sure I will have plenty of blog-worthy material.
The Sweat Test
Remember we had to do that sweat test to check for cystic fibrosis? On the phone they told me they had to hook up electrodes on her arms for 3 minutes. I'm expecting those little white dots with wires, just slap them on under her sleeves and *voile* we're done. In reality, it's these copper cuffs that have a band of velcro around them that need to be secured around her arm (completely around her arm) and there's TWO that need to be fastened. Additionally, there's a current that runs through them, causing a pins and needles feeling in her arm. You all know how teeny tiny Malia is -- the two cuffs basically encircled her entire arm from bicep to wrist.
She. Freaked. Out.
Holy cow she was pissed off. AND it wasn't three minutes. It was FIVE minutes. Per arm. And we could only test one arm at a time!! When she realized we had to do her other arm, she was a flailing mess. The nurse kept saying "Wow, she's really strong... she's really really strong!"
After zapping the right arm, we had to strap the cuffs on the left arm while trying not to touch the right arm and thus contaminating it. Okaaayyy, sure, no problem. Once we got the left arm strapped, we had to hold the right arm still (again not touching the forearm) so the nurse could wrap these special sterile pads in this neat stretchy plastic wrap around Malia's arm to collect her sweat. And when I say "wrap" I mean "WRAP."
After wrapping both arms, I was given a timer set for 20 minutes to do... whatever I could do with a 15 month old to get her sweating. Malia looked like a mini-Michelin man with her white bandage wrapped arms waving around, trying to fling it off.
Here she is - happy to be out of the torture chamber.
I bundled her up hoping to get her sweating.
But then I realized I just needed her arms to sweat so I took her outside and put babylegs on her arms. That did the trick - the nurse complimented me on my sweaty baby.
The Fruit Eaters
I've given up all hope of keeping the car and most notably, the car seat clean. There's no way around it. Both kids can see what I have in the front seat and will demand to eat what I snack on. Of course, there are those of you believe I shouldn't be eating in the car at all (Truong) but when you're home with two kids, you eat what you can and when you can!
Malia taking her first bite out of a pluot. Literally. I usually cut fruits into bite sized chunks but she seems to really like eating fruits this way.
She's started to take my nectarines and peaches as I'm eating them and won't give them back, claiming them for her own.
Kael enjoying his pluot. I just noticed that his forehead is shiny so he must have smeared the pluot on his face. This explains the mile-wide smile.
"No, I'm not sharing. It's all mine."
Sounds like Malia is finally up. We're going swimming with big brother. Tonight is workout #1 with Ethel. I'm sure I will have plenty of blog-worthy material.
"Don't Leave Your Child in the Car"
I'm sure everyone's read, heard and knows that.
But has anyone heard "Don't Lock Your Mom Out of the House"? If not, you may want to review that with your children. And make sure they can open the front door too.
I was chatting with the gardener this afternoon when Kael slammed the front door on me. Usually this isn't a problem - I just open the door again. However, I chatted with the Orkin guy this morning and locked the bottom lock on the handle (it's usually unlocked from when Truong leaves the house in the morning). When this lock is engaged, it becomes self-locking.
That means when Kael slammed the door on me, I was locked out. For real. And the slider in the back was locked too. I didn't have my cell phone to call Grandma and my neighbors were at work. It was 98 degrees out and I wasn't going to walk the mile and a half to Shana's house for my extra key. I'd pass out from the heat before I got to the end of the block! This door knob is not only sticky but it's also a knob not a handle - so when you add those two elements together, Kael has a really hard time opening it. In fact, I don't remember if he's ever opened the front door.
So the gardener and I are looking at each other - each with an "oh sh*t, what do I do now?" look on our faces. Well, his is probably more of a "Can I, in good conscience, leave her -- I've got other houses to do before my day is done" look. I call Kael through the door, telling him to open the door, please. I hear the knob rattle.
Kael: "Mom! I can't."
Me: "Yes you can!"
More rattling.
K: "Mom, help me!"
I see Malia through the window, banging on it and laughing.
M: "Just turn the knob! Use both hands!"
More rattling.
K: "I can't."
M: "Yes you can! Use both hands and turn really hard!"
More rattling and now there's banging on the door.
K: "Mom! Let me out!"
M: "KAEL USE BOTH HANDS AND OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW!"
He must have sensed my urgency because all of a sudden the door whooshed open, surprising both of us. And we just stood there, not sure of how we should act or feel. In the heat of the moment, it felt like a "panic situation" but afterwards, it felt kind of silly as it was a simple matter of opening the dumb door. Plus only a couple of minutes had passed so no damage had occurred. Quite honestly, it was kind of anticlimactic.
I'm sure the gardener is thinking "Geez, this family is weird."
Especially since Truong just installed a remote garage door opener with the new system and I could have gone through that way.
DOH!
But has anyone heard "Don't Lock Your Mom Out of the House"? If not, you may want to review that with your children. And make sure they can open the front door too.
I was chatting with the gardener this afternoon when Kael slammed the front door on me. Usually this isn't a problem - I just open the door again. However, I chatted with the Orkin guy this morning and locked the bottom lock on the handle (it's usually unlocked from when Truong leaves the house in the morning). When this lock is engaged, it becomes self-locking.
That means when Kael slammed the door on me, I was locked out. For real. And the slider in the back was locked too. I didn't have my cell phone to call Grandma and my neighbors were at work. It was 98 degrees out and I wasn't going to walk the mile and a half to Shana's house for my extra key. I'd pass out from the heat before I got to the end of the block! This door knob is not only sticky but it's also a knob not a handle - so when you add those two elements together, Kael has a really hard time opening it. In fact, I don't remember if he's ever opened the front door.
So the gardener and I are looking at each other - each with an "oh sh*t, what do I do now?" look on our faces. Well, his is probably more of a "Can I, in good conscience, leave her -- I've got other houses to do before my day is done" look. I call Kael through the door, telling him to open the door, please. I hear the knob rattle.
Kael: "Mom! I can't."
Me: "Yes you can!"
More rattling.
K: "Mom, help me!"
I see Malia through the window, banging on it and laughing.
M: "Just turn the knob! Use both hands!"
More rattling.
K: "I can't."
M: "Yes you can! Use both hands and turn really hard!"
More rattling and now there's banging on the door.
K: "Mom! Let me out!"
M: "KAEL USE BOTH HANDS AND OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW!"
He must have sensed my urgency because all of a sudden the door whooshed open, surprising both of us. And we just stood there, not sure of how we should act or feel. In the heat of the moment, it felt like a "panic situation" but afterwards, it felt kind of silly as it was a simple matter of opening the dumb door. Plus only a couple of minutes had passed so no damage had occurred. Quite honestly, it was kind of anticlimactic.
I'm sure the gardener is thinking "Geez, this family is weird."
Especially since Truong just installed a remote garage door opener with the new system and I could have gone through that way.
DOH!
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