True Love by Judith Viorst

True Love
It is true love because
I put on eyeliner and a concerto and make pungent observations about the great issues of the day
Even when there’s no one here but him,
And because
I do not resent watching the Green Bay Packers
Even though I am philosophically opposed to football,
And because
When he is late for dinner and I know he must be either having an affair or lying dead in the middle of the street,
I always hope he’s dead.
It’s true love because
If he said quit drinking martinis but I kept drinking them and the next morning I couldn’t get out of bed,
He wouldn’t tell me he told me,
And because
He is willing to wear unironed undershorts
Out of respect for the fact that I am philosophically opposed to ironing,
And because
If his mother was drowning and I was drowning and he had to choose one of us to save,
He says he’d save me.

It’s true love because
When he went to San Francisco on business while I had to stay home with the painters and the exterminator and the baby who was getting the chicken pox,
He understood why I hated him,
And because
When I said that playing the stock market was juvenile and irresponsible and then the stock I wouldn’t let him buy went up twenty-six points,
I understood why he hated me,
And because
Despite cigarette cough, tooth decay, acid indigestion, dandruff, and other features of married life that tend to dampen the fires of passion,
We still feel something
We can call
True love.

Mission Soon To Be Accomplished

It’s 4am. Winston just woke up to alert us all to the fact that she needed to go to the potty, and so she did! My baby girl just pooped in the big potty! I am so proud of her.

Damn it! I should have taken a picture.

Girl Farts

Monkey:  “Mommy, how do you know our dog is a girl?”

“Because of her girl parts.”

“Ewwww”

(Ew?  Why ew?  What is she learning at daycare anyway?)

“How can you tell from her farts?”

 ———————-

Shep and I took the kids out to the lake today for an extended play session at a very crowded park (it’s been a beautiful Sunday afternoon kind of day) while we took turns riding our bikes.  I did a double lap around the lake for a total of 18 miles, and he did one quick lap.  He amazes me.  He’s been riding his hybrid for 3 months now, and could probably race if he were on a road bike.  His speeds are incredibly high for a guy who hadn’t been on a bike in probably 20 years before he bought this one.

Anyway, I’m starting to feel massively guilty for not getting Bear out with us.  Riding a bike would, hopefully, trump his addiction to Lego Stars Wars II on Shep’s Play Station.

Spinach

I did something today I shouldn’t have done. I did it because I’m exhausted, and when I get this tired, I do things which I know I will later view as destructive. After not eating very much yesterday, and also feeling a need to rejuvenate after yesterday’s not so seamless kick off to the seminar series I coordinate, I awoke this morning not wanting to wake, not wanting to rise, not wanting to go through the rough and tumble exercises of the morning which include dressing, bathing, feeding, ushering down 3 flights of stairs the fledgling crew and me. When the tire went flat, my urge to call in sick grew stronger. I didn’t. I knew if I did, I would receive hell for it at work - and as much as I would just like to put in my two weeks notice and start a new life, I can’t. I have to work. I have to make money. I don’t think my employer is ready to let me go, but it wouldn’t take much these days to tip them over the edge. It’s just like it was with Jack. I did something I knew would cause us to break up - that I loved him wasn’t in the equation. But, I sensed he wanted to break up with me anyway, and I only did him a favor. I hate waiting in limbo for the final judgment. I’m going to try to leave my job on my terms.

What I did today isn’t that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things. I didn’t steal, destroy or cheat. I just ate a large plate of nachos, and even while I was doing it, wondered why food like that makes me feel better, even when I also feel guilty. I did it because my weight loss has stagnated, and it’s frustrating and discouraging. I can’t seem to break through this plateau in spite of cycling harder and harder, and eating better. I did it because I need a break. I did it because I didn’t want to worry about finding something that would satisfy my base cravings. I did it because spinach is off the menu for a while, and that’s the main component of what I like to eat on better days than today.

Fucking spinach. My mother used to cook large pots of greens, and then make me eat some of it before I could leave the table. Traumatic nights of gagging and crying while I waited for a reprieve are trapped in my memory. I remember her mostly as being largely emotionally distant from us. I always felt like I was reaching out to her, trying to find something in her that I recognized from watching shows such as Happy Days, and reading stories about close knit families. Making her kids eat spinach just made her feel like a good mom. She believed that forcing us to consume something we hated was good for us. The truth is that spinach cooked with large amounts of butter and salt isn’t all that healthy, but her motivation was pure. I still hate boiled spinach and cooked greens. But, fresh? Fresh is grand. Delicious. Untainted.

It’s not the fault of the spinach producers and the spinach packing plants that I ate nachos today. I just think it’s kind of ironic. Would I have had a Subway wrap or salad instead of nachos if spinach weren’t such a health hazard right now? No. I would just be finding some other way to justify over-indulgence.

Cycling

The gym has long been left to the dusty archives of kangatopia as I have explored a growing adoration for cycling. I still adore the many faceted entertainments of the gym: childcare center; dry sauna; wet sauna; childcare center; lap pool; whirlpool; childcare center; cardio and weight training machines; childcare center; and assorted equipment but cycling has taken precedence. I’m hanging on to the membership though because soon it will be too gosh darned cold, just as it was so recently too brain meltingly hot, to ride and my increasing, self abusing obssesion with getting faster and stronger may not withstand the breezy winds of winter.

I’ve been going on and on about how I never have time to ride, but I just completed a mental check of my hypothetical riding log for the last week and I’ve been going out every day due to the kind and generous help Shep is giving me with the kids.* Of the last 10 days, I’ve ridden 14-16 miles on 8 of ‘em. It’s not a lot, but way better than nothing.

Just in the last 8 rides, my time is getting better, and my average speed creeping up. The hills, even, are easier to manage. Possibly because I know when they’re coming, or possibly because muscle strength is improving. I’ve ingested millions of tiny black bugs. Narrowly missed a fatal side swipe by a rabbit. Been flipped off by one driver, and honked at by two others. I’m actually passing other cyclists** now, but I still can’t keep up with Shep by even a long shot. He’s told me that there have been brief moments when he’s had to work harder to keep up with me, but those times are few and far between and only on the flats. He also might be humoring me.***

Tomorrow we are going out to a little town northeast (I think) of us to ride another rally. I’ve ridden this one before, and I remember that they had misters at the end to cool off the cyclists. I also remember that it was hot (hence the misters), but as we packed up our bikes that morning to drive out there a hot air balloon festival was in full swing and there was this whole surreal thing going on of a bunch of hot air balloons hovering in the sky above us in the pre-dawn light and my friend and I gazed in stupefied and sleepy wonder at what a drag it must be to be suspended in hazy heat.

I heard there’s rain in the forecast this weekend which won’t bode well for a good ride if it hits us. At least it’s not 106 outside.

*There’s a word for this, but this is a fucking family blog and I’m learning to not look a gifthorse in the mouth, shoot myself in the foot, sabotage the best relationship I’ve ever been in, etc etc. Plus, Shep sometimes reads this blog.

**The slower ones heading south to the glue factory.

***See the first footnote above. That works both ways, you know.