ingrid

So I’ve been running an awful lot lately.  After tapping out my insurance last winter on physical therapy that left me feeling only vaguely better, I figured out that running and walking and an occasional massage improve my back and neck pain much more than a huge copay.  Who knew?  With the help of some friends I am hitting the road twice a week for runs, and once or twice a week for fast walks.  Add that to my drill master duties at Zephyr’s soccer, and I am getting out and being active pretty often.

I’m not exercising to lose weight.  I have never lost weight purposely in my life,( I feel like I should say, “And I don’t intend to start”, but that’s silly).  Because I can’t or won’t diet I know that I need to maintain consistency in my movement and food choices.  To that end, I have two small rules to live by: DO SOMETHING ACTIVE EVERY DAY and NO POTATO CHIPS IN THE HOUSE!  The flip side of that is KEEP CHOCOLATE IN THE HOUSE AT ALL TIMES.

I have found that my body needs a certain level of physical activity to be happy.  Like a dog, I need to be run a bit each day before I really feel relaxed and calm.  And there are some jobs that I will always love like pulling weeds, mucking out the chicken coop or hauling firewood.  I wish that I were the type of person who just had an active day without  having to do anything consciously.  Conscious work seems hard.  Exercise seems dumb.  Why can’t I be a farmer or a land surveyor?  A peasant in China in the 50s—that was fun, right?*   I can’t help but continue to feel that going out and actually TRYING to exercise seems stupid.  It is indicative of where our culture has come that we need to plan to get the exercise our body needs.  It seems even worse that we city people need to GO somewhere to get exercise.

The only problem with this whole exercise thing is that in order for it to fit nicely into my day, I need to wake up at 5 and 6am.  Ouch!  I love to sleep, but more than that, I love my freedom.  Freedom, for a mom, seems to only occur before 7am and after 7pm, and after 7pm I am just too tired.  So 5am it is.  Luckily I have 5 really great women from church who are also rolling out of bed to meet up with me.  When it seems too awful, I have their smiling faces, interesting conversation and maybe a quick cup of coffee afterwards to look forward to.

Of course, the best thing about running really, really early is the deep sense of enjoyment that I get sitting on my ass the rest of the day.  This is living!

*  That was a joke.  I just finished a book about communes in China and famine during the Great Leap Forward, so I am thinking about Chairman Mao these days.  And it does not seem like it was that great.

3 Comments | In: Being Healthy and All That | | #

Every now and then I take a gander at my spam box for this site, just to feel better about myself.  Here is what I find:

“You’re so right!”

“This is so helpful!  It took me all afternoon to figure this one out!”

“Excellent ideas.”

“Very clever content!”

“I’m so glad I found this site.”

“I agree with you completely.”

and then the weird misspellings:

My spam box is overflowing with positive comments.  Spam loves me.  Spam thinks I am smart.  Spam says that I saved the day with my cleverness.  Is it sad that Spam knows what we are suckers for— secretly desiring a little obsequiousness, a little ingratiation?  Oh Spam, tell me more!

Photo by Inez

4 Comments | In: Current musings | | #

My insurance company cares deeply about me….I guess.  I just got this glossy catalogue in the mail all about dealing with arthritis.  They must look at medical records or something, so they know all about me.

You know how you can learn things from media without even reading the text?  Here is what I learned just by looking at pictures that are hoping to depict people dealing with arthritis:

Exercise, even if it is sort of lame and you are sort of shubby*, is good for you.

*  When I was teaching, a student wrote an entire essay about how her friend should feel good about herself even though she was “sort of shubby.”  This spelling cracked me up.  It sounds so cute, so non-threatening, so fuzzy.  I did not tire of reading it, ever.  Then I read it to Brad.  Then we started calling ourselves “shubby”.

You can have arthritis, even if you are Black!  Arthritis, not just for white people anymore!

Think of some good one-liners to use on your doctor when you see him/her.  You might even get better care if your doctor thinks you are clever!  Don’t forget, they don’t want to see you sad!

And finally:

Just because your body is screaming out in agony does not mean that there are not hot, romantic moments of SEX coming your way SOON.  It all starts with a little two step.  Take your aspirin so that you don’t miss out!

1 Comment | In: Current musings, General bitchin' | | #

Around here the first day of school was a little anti-climactic.  Only Francis went out the door that day as Zephyr’s Kindergarten had a staggered start in order to allow all the new students to come meet their teacher and visit the classroom.  It is a nice way to do it, but not something that confident little Zephyr needed.  He knew Sr. Siam and had been peeking his head in the kindergarten door ever since his first day in pre-K at Beach.  On his appointed day, he charged in the classroom and proceeded to show off EVERY LITTLE BIT of his broken Spanish.  He talked a blue streak.  His grandfatherly, mellow, Cuban teacher asked me, “Does he always talk this much?” not once but twice.  I was subsequently both proud and sort of embarrassed—-proud that he knows so much Spanish and is not afraid to try it out, embarrassed that he would not shut up.

I’ve certainly had my struggles with not shutting up.  Most of my embarrassments in life have been not in what I have neglected to say, but in those times where I misjudged the necessity to speak.  I should shut up more often really.

Zephyr seems like he will adjust just fine to school.  Like me, he charges right in bravely (and rashly), and in many ways this is a comfort to me because it is something I understand.  On the first day, parents were to take all kids to the cafeteria where the kids would meet their teacher and walk in a line across the playground to the Spanish Immersion annex building.  Zephyr was thrilled to be at school, proud of his lunchbox and excited to see old friends.  He got in line and was ready to go.  The only hitch in the walk-in-a-line plan was that the doors to the cafeteria are sort of narrow and many of the first time parents were sort of hover-y.  They ALL wanted to walk along with their kids on the way to the kindergarten classroom.  I found this slightly amusing and fell back from the crush of ADULTS pushing towards the door, because it was apparent that not everyone was going to be able to fit through following the line of kids.  When the doors finally cleared, I moved through with Inez.  Entering the playground area, it was clear that the line had totally disintegrated.  These kindergarteners didn’t know the first thing about moving in a line, and the hanger-on parents weren’t really helping much.  Sr Siam and the vice principal were busily gathering kids up and moving them back into the line.  I was chuckling at this chaos when I noticed that I couldn’t see Zephyr.  He was gone.

One nano second of panic and it seemed clear to me that no one would kidnap my son on his way out of the cafeteria.  None of these parents was organized enough for that.  They couldn’t even handle the kindergarten line.  I stood there thinking—-knowing my son, he is probably in the classroom.  And he was.  He hopped across the playground, in the doors and right to class where he found his name on the desk and started the assignment on the table.  He even turned on the classroom lights.  I think this kid is going to be okay in life.

Francis is in third grade this year.  Her class is a 3/4 blend which is a sort of different experience.  She was shocked that she doesn’t do all her classes in the same room any more.  Now she leaves for math, art, technology, music, and pe.  She was disappointed that math is no longer in Spanish.  On the whole, she has a lot less of her day in Spanish, and her literacy classes (writing and reading) occur separately in each language.  She says math is too easy, which we will be checking into when we are a bit further into the year.  It is a little early in the year to be a pain in the ass parent.

Inez is hanging out at home with me, picking vegetables in the garden, playing with the chickens, doing chores, and riding bikes.  We have started a new tradition of picking up garbage on our walk home from school each morning.  Inez is really into it.  I have to watch that she doesn’t pick up anything that is really gross.

It’s great to have the older kids in school, but it isn’t super easy like I had thought.  I have more time (sort of) but it is clear that I only sent the more independent ones off to school, so I still have the one who creates the most problems when unsupervised.  I kept the one around who picks all the letter keys off the laptop keyboard and then throws them (inexplicably) in the trash can.  But even Inez had a promotion of a sort.  This kid is now officially out of diapers.  Halleluia!  But still, when can she go to school?

3 Comments | In: family, My super freakin' cute kids | | #

I never tire of this.

I met Anne last week for a little “boring” shopping and fit

1. Two tents
2. Four glass casserole dishes
3. One replacement CO2 canister
4. One stock pot plus vegetable steamer and lid
5. Five pairs of water proof pants
6. One really big purse
7. One bag of clothing that Anne had borrowed

I loaded it all on the bike and then headed up Interstate Avenue hill.  Whew!

2 Comments | In: Awesome!, Environment | | #

$180 worth of groceries (yes, I bought expensive cheese AND chocolate covered almonds):

$20 Chair from a Rummage Sale!

Nope, I didn’t take a picture.  I was too freaked out about biting it while riding the 2 miles home. Hey, I made it!  And check out my awesome chair!

3 Comments | In: Awesome! | | #

Every now and then one of the kids nabs my camera and takes pictures that I don’t find until later.  Often the pictures are fairly poor quality.  Often the total number is COPIOUS (like in the hundreds).  Sometimes the photos are also sort of interesting.

Here is what I found this week:

I wish the army guys luck.

1 Comment | In: My super freakin' cute kids | | #

1. Ingrid and Brad had a tent- 3 person, REI Taj 3, forest green case, silver and black fabric, gold poles, and a mustard yellow rain fly.  They slept in it on July 16th in Eugene, Or.  It rained all night.  They wadded the tent up, shoved it in the trunk of the car (1998 Nissan Sentra) and drove back to Portland, Oregon the next day.
2. On July 17th, Ingrid hung the tent outside in her backyard on the line to dry.
3. It rained July 17th.  She moved the tent inside during the early evening and stretched it out on the kitchen table.
4. It sat there all of July 18th.
5. On July 19th, Ingrid folded up the tent on the dining room floor.  She usually does not fold the tent.  Brad commented when he returned home from work, “Nice job folding the tent, honey”.  She does not remember if she returned the tent to the basement closet or left it sitting in the dining room.
6. On July 20th, the family left Portland for a trip to Ashland, Oregon.  They did not take the tent with them as they planned to stay at a swanky rental house.  Again, they are unsure if anyone in the family put the tent away in the “gear closet” in the basement or if the tent was left out (but folded and in its case) in the dining room.
7. On August 4th, Ingrid’s sister Anne visited her home with the intent of borrowing camping equipment.  She pulled a tent, a sleeping pad, and a sleeping bag out of “the gear closet” in the basement.
8. On August 9th, Anne visited Ingrid to return camping equipment after her trip.  She presented the borrowed camping equipment.  ”This isn’t my tent,” Ingrid stated.  ”This is the one I got out of the closet”  Anne protested.  ”And  it sucked.  It didn’t have tent poles.”
9. The “wrong tent” is a huge Coleman without tent poles.  It does not belong to ANY of Ingrid’s immediate family members.  No one knows how it got in the gear closet.  And the ACTUAL tent (a decent one that Ingrid and Brad loved) is completely MISSING.

WHERE IS THE TENT?

Ideas and suggestions are appreciated.

7 Comments | In: How strange | | #

I bet you are all DYING to find out what is up with the chickens these days!  It is actually pretty quiet around here.  With the good weather, chickens quit dying and started taking it easy.  They spend a good portion of each day stretched out in the sun, wings all askew, looking sort of dead.  In reality they are resting, which I love (but you all know how I feel about resting).  It strikes me as funny that animals nap.  I don’t know why, but when I first noticed that the chickens seem to take a nap at exactly the same time each day when I am tired, I just felt so close to them.

The “chicks” are looking all grown up now.  I suspect that one of them might be laying, but I can’t tell whom as I also re-acquired a big blonde Orpington that I had previously chicken-sat.  Remember Fattycakes?  Now I will live to regret naming her such because my friend Pam asked me to take her after losing her (Pam’s) other remaining chicken.  Chickens don’t like to be alone.  They get physically sick.  Isn’t that interesting?  Birds of a feather flock together….and if they don’t then they die!  Well, maybe they don’t die, but they do get depressed.  A chicken will never be a Uni-bomber.  Take that tidbit and tuck it away for your next cocktail party.

It has been a bit of a struggle getting all the hens to roost on the roosts at night.  This is a dumb problem, but not unique to this flock.  It is always hard to bring in new chickens, especially young ones, and get them to cozy up next to big hens who peck them in the head.  My henhouse is relatively large, but the roosts are sort of crowded, so the hens have little choice but to cuddle together.  The smaller picked on chickens don’t have much of a place to go to get away from their tormenters (sort of like my high school actually), so they end up huddling on the edge of the nesting boxes or in the actual nesting box.  And that makes for a big poopy mess.

After a couple weeks of me moving chickens nightly, they are starting to mostly end up on the roosts at night, which is a good thing as it gets tiring dragging chickens out of the nesting boxes while they fight me beak and wing.  I took this photo at night while they were sleeping:

It is still interesting to me how the relationships are obvious in the company these birds keep.  They are one flock, but they spend most of the days next to the same birds.  They have bird “friends” or “sisters” or something, and you can see it even on the roost.  From the bottom left- Sunflake, Lily, Pumpkin Pie (5 month old pullets, raised together), middle roost by herself- Fattycakes (1-2 year old, added to flock), top left- Hasty (2 year old, added to flock with 3 other chickens who are now deceased), Rosey, Agnes (4 year old, original chickens), Lyra, Starlight, Moonshine (1 year olds, raised together).

I think that is interesting.  But I guess that is why I keep chickens, right?

No Comments | In: Chickens Are Super Fabulous | | #

And all my kids are in bed.

It’s true.  I am very good at putting kids to sleep.  I believe in it.  Here are my techniques and how I put them into play today:

1)  Tire them out.  Ride the children all over heck and gone even if you have no particular destination.  We just got one of those cool cargo long-bikes, so we took it out for a spin today.  We decided to go to St Johns to check out their sidewalk sales.  It wasn’t a real destination—more just a place to go that was more than 6 miles away.

Here is our bike!  I have wanted one of these for so long.  It is essentially just an elongated bike where you can haul heavy cargo over the back wheel.  Apparently these were designed for less developed nations where people might need to haul coffee or other crops.

We will use it to haul kids.  I rode it home from SE Portland with all three on the back, but that wasn’t really such a desirable ride.  There was a little fish-tailing and the weight!  The weight!  It is best with just the youngest two, but I love the flexibility of being able to throw anyone on there.  I could probably toss Brad one there too.  The bike bags extend so I could even figure out how to strap my guitar on.  I think I will try it tomorrow morning for church.

Anyway, we rode to St Johns.  Francis rode her own bike.  She is really good at it now.  Zephyr is up on his own bike too, but not as predictable in traffic.  It’s nice to put him on the back of the bike.

2)  Take regular naps and quiet time.  If you teach your kids when it is time to go and when it is time to chill, they are better able to make those transitions throughout the day.  Francis is 8, but still goes to a 2 hour quiet time each day during the summer.  She is in her room playing, reading or sleeping (which she rarely does).  I don’t care if she is bored.  I think boredom is good for you.  She does really creative things during this time.  Plus during this time I read and nap.  I am important to this family, and I need A LOT of sleep.  In order to make sure no one gets beaten, I must get my rest.

3)  Take the kids to dinner REALLY early.  Brad and I are great believers in eating early.  If you eat early, kids then feel the next natural thing to do is to go to bed, so we try to start thinking about eating at 4pm.  No really.  On the weekend, when Brad is around, if we are going out to dinner, we start out walking there around 4pm.  Today we went to a Gospel choir picnic at 3:45pm.  It was awesome.

Those ladies (and men) can sure cook.  And they love to eat and visit in a very low-key way that is quite satisfying.

4)  Provide necessary intellectual and natural world stimulation.  Seek it out if necessary.  Someone in my choir said that she thought she saw a dead coyote in an empty lot alongside MLK, so we went to find it.  Ahhhh nature!

Yeah, that is weird, I agree.  What is a coyote doing in the middle of the city?  The kids were fascinated; Brad was disgusted and refused to get out of the car, even though I begged him to help us go find it.  I am not sure that I have ever seen a dead coyote even in the country (not counting taxidermy).  This was pretty interesting.

5)  Put them to bed 30 to 45 minutes before you might hope that they would be asleep.  (And please, don’t be a dumby and put your baby to bed at 10 or 11pm.  It is not that your kid “isn’t a sleeper”.  I hate that shit.  It is that you have not figured it out and do not have the humility to go to the freaking library and get a parenting book or to ask your parents how they put their kids to bed.  And if you have asked your parents but you are still putting your kid to bed at 10pm or worse, letting them fuss and cry on your shoulder until they fall asleep while everyone watches you wondering WHY THE HELL YOU ARE TORTURING YOUR BABY, WHY THE HELL YOU ARE TORTURING THE ADULTS IN THE ROOM, then you don’t want to listen to the answer.  And why is that?  How much resolve do you have as a parent?  Some?  None?  Put them in there.  Leave them alone.  Don’t worry about what they do after that, i.e, screaming, being stupid, crying, whining.  They are in bed, they are safe , they are developing healthy sleep habits that will assist their physical and mental health their ENTIRE LIFE and they will eventually fall asleep.  (Reference Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child by Marc Weissbluth).

Woa.  Sorry.  I started ranting there.  It’s just that kids not getting the sleep they need REALLY, really bothers me.  I think it is because I need so much sleep, and because I am so saddened when dealing with young people with social problems, addiction issues, depression, sickness, etc…. they all have sleep disturbances too.  So put your kids to bed.  Please.

8 Comments | In: family | | #