Friday, June 26, 2009

Just a random little update post.

One of my favorite things about Gluten-free E is that when he was a kid, he thought that The Jetsons was a new cartoon because it was a "future" cartoon. By contrast, he thought The Flintstones had been around forever and was a really old cartoon. That has nothing to do with anything I'm going to write about, I just like it about him.

My eyes are blurry--combination of long-expired disposable contacts and high wind on the river last night for our pictures. Even though it feels like I'm looking through parchment paper now, it was so much fun. Carmen was really good at chatting it up with the kids and Henry did enough talking for the four of us. We did a lot of pictures around the trains and then some on one of the fields by the river. I'm really hoping they turned out--confident that they must have--and impatient to see which ones we like. E and I kind of hung back at first and let the kids go; they're so cute it's hard not to take pictures of them, but since the whole point of this thing was for me to have some pictures actually with the monkeys and E, we got in there and I hope we got it covered. We have two weeks to let it all percolate though; we should be good and ready by the time we see them.

LOST scared the pants off of me last night. My anxiety got so bad that things that weren't even scary were making me jump. It was bad enough yesterday morning when we were watching and a salesman's knock on the door made me launch three feet in the air. Last night watching it in bed, in the dark? FORGET ABOUT IT. I was so amped that just the touch of E's finger brushing against my arm sent me into hysterics. I'm aware of the etymological origins of that word, and still I feel it's pretty apt. It's not gore and blood that scare me--it's suspense. It's the tense of every muscle in my body as I watch a movie or TV that fills me with dread. It's knowing that I have abandoned autonomy to chase the loose thread I just can't leave and this have given over control of my own fear response. Ever since the sleepovers of high school where we'd watch X-Files in the dark, that kind of stuff makes me tired. It's the good story that keeps me coming back--suspense without the meat of any content is just stupid. LOST is holding its end of the bargain--bringing a good story to the table, so I put up with polar bears and "the others" and plane crashes even though they scare my pants off. I just pull my blanket over my head about three times per episode.

Henry is laying next to me in his rainbow tie-dyed underwear. I don't think there's a better word for him than wacky. In his hands? His sister's pink Gameboy. Video game love knows no color.

Shin pain is ruling my life at the moment. Leftie is worse than Rightie, but when I stepped out of the car last night after the drive home from our pictures, they both felt like old dried out rubber bands about to split. Pain, pain, pain. This, on the heels of increasing my mileage a week ago and committing myself to a training plan. The pain required an internet search--or rather, a WebMD iPhone app search, because my shin splint knowledge would fit in a thimble. I thought that shin splints were relegated to the front of the shin--the source of my high school PE running and dance studio tapping pain. I guess what I have is called posterior shin splits--the pain runs along the inside of each lower leg, from just below my calf to just above my ankle. Cause: an unsupported arch and an inwardly rolling foot.

I have to tell you that this kind of pain makes me feel like a bad dancer. Old habits die hard. Since you don't wear supportive shoes when you do ballet, it's up to your muscles to do all the supporting. I can still see Mrs. C standing in front of me as a thirteen year old, telling me to imagine a little mouse lives in my arch, and not to let my arch roll inward and squish him. It's frustrating to have those arches betray me while I run. Clearly, running is different and the repetitive motion is going to necessitate more support. These shoes were fine until about a week ago, and then I started to notice that I don't feel anything under my arch. That must be causing the pain.

Gah, it's so... maddening to finally get to a place, spirit-wise, where you're ready to take on a goal and a program, and then have your body rebel on you. That's how it is, I know. I just don't like it.

Oooh. Hang on. Preview on TV. July 15 cannot come fast enough for me. Have you seen these Harry Potter previews? (Sorry, that was a bit like Doug, the dog's, "SQUIRREL!" moment in Up.) I'm torn between reading Half-Blood Prince one more time before I see the movie, and starting The Thorn Birds, which I promised K I'd read last summer. (She's the one who told me about Gone with the Wind, so my trust is 100% in her recommendation.) I'm pretty happy that this is one of the major decisions I have to make sometime in the next few days.

Today is Miss Roo's last day of first grade. Selfishly, I'm glad I don't have to feel my feet hit the floor at 7:00 AM anymore to get her ready for class. Unselfishly, I'm glad she is going to get a break. She's been so jealous that Hank and I get to be home together every day. She also needs some down time and some Mommy time. This year has been so hard on them. E and I have really put those little monkeys through the wringer. There's nothing I can do to change that, but what I can do is to help the kids decompress this summer--and to show them how much security and comfort there is at home.

Tonight for dinner: pork chops. Barbecued? I'm not sure--I hate when they dry out. My favorite pork chops are with cream of mushroom soup over white rice, but we'll see. I'm already pre-tired for today.

Consider yourselves updated.

1 comment:

  1. I thought the exact same things about the Jetsons and Flintstones. Perhaps it's a family thing - E's probably the one who told me that about the cartoons.

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