Friday, June 26, 2009

Marathon bike rides, and why you shouldn't attempt them.

Chase and I are trying to get some exercise every day this summer. Just to keep our girlish figures, don'tcha know. On Wednesday, we decided to take a bike ride. Harmless enough, right? Harrumph.

So, we set out of the neighborhood and headed down the road.

In case you haven't visited our fair city, Vegas is in a valley.
Surrounded by mountains.
The Strip (which is NOT where I live, thankyouverymuch) is pretty much the low point, geographically-speaking.

So, we're basically headed downhill.

NOW. Maybe I haven't actually informed you that I, sir, am no athlete. I can pedal a bike, and usually keep from falling off, but athletic? Nope. Not me.

I am very much enjoying our little downhill ride. Wind in the hair, bugs in the teeth, and all of that. It's 80-ish, with a lovely little breeze.

I do keep glancing over my shoulder at the way back, but think to myself..."Self? It ain't that much of a hill, and just think of how good your butt will look after you get home."

So, we keep going.

Eventually, we decide that unless we are going to gamble our lunch hour away at the Bellagio, we should probably turn around and. ride. back.

K, so it's not that much of an incline. But, it's a continuous incline. For miles. And now, the lovely breeze has gone away. And the bank clock says it's 95 degrees.

Our lovely bike ride has become quite the ordeal.

But we press on for awhile. Huffing and puffing but making it. For maybe an hour. At which time little miss Lance Armstrong (that would be me) starts to feel kinda hot and dizzy. Images of me passing out, falling off of my bike into the street and having cars run over my head in front of my 11-yr-old son start to plague me.

So, it's a long, sad story, but I finally admitted defeat, called my friend Debi to come pick us up and we spent the rest of the afternoon enjoying Debi's backyard pool.

Divine Hubby had a brilliant idea for our NEXT bike ride. Head UPHILL first, then when you've had enough, you can enjoy the lovely downhill ride home.

Huh. Brilliant.

That's why I married him! :)

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Man, for a woman of leisure...

...I sure don't get around to blogging very often! :(

Chase is back from his big trip to see his grandparents and to Space Camp. It was his first experience at "sleepaway" camp, and I have to deem it a big success. It was an odd feeling for me, though. My parents took him to camp, which was about 6 hours away from where they live (and they live 2000 miles from me). So, for the first time, really ever, he was sleeping away from home and he was not in the care of people who love him. I couldn't shake the feeling that that was odd.

Now, I know the current trend is that kids just don't spend the night at people's houses anymore. At least here in Vegas, it seems more the norm that a 10-yr-old kid has never had a sleepover. Chase has been sleeping over at friends' houses since he was 2. (I have good friends here who honestly question my parenting decisions when they hear that.) My good friend Kale and I had a babysitting co-op, and it quickly became obvious that it was just plain disruptive to everyone to pick the kid up at midnight. It made more sense to just let him spend the night and pick him up in the morning. So, Chase is one of the rare kiddos who absolutely NEVER has called in the middle of the night asking me to pick him up. He loves nothing better than a sleepover, and has never, to my knowledge, been homesick in any way. Which is good...except it does kinda beg the question - does he miss me at all when he's away?

Frankly, history has taught me that no, he does not.

Doesn't make the mama's heart happy.

BUT, sportsfans, we had a little development at Space Camp. HE MISSED US!!! :) He had the opportunity to call every night, and he never ever missed a call. He had a wonderful time with his grandparents (didn't miss us a bit, per usual), and loved Space Camp to pieces, but after 7 days away, he confessed to missing his dad and me. And not even "just a little" but he said he got pretty homesick the first day or so of camp. Awwwwwww (sniff). Does a mama's heart good.

But, he did not call and cry or beg me to come get him - even though he was homesick, he still participated, made new friends, told us great stories of his adventures on the phone every night and generally enjoyed himself very much. He didn't even admit to being homesick until he...WAS HOME!

So, the moral of this story's wonderful to have a confident, independent child who can manage to happily exist outside of his mama's loving embrace.

Except when it's not.

If you're a mama, you understood that sentence completely. :)

Sunday, June 7, 2009


My baby boy (who yes, is nearly 12 and almost as tall as I am and regularly beats me at Scrabble, so I shouldn't really call him a baby, huh??) is leaving tomorrow. (sniff) I finally found someone who would adopt him, so he's out, baby. NOOOOO, just kidding. He's headed to my parents' house in SC for 6 days and then to SPACE CAMP at NASA.

Can I tell you how excited he is?

His mama?
Not so much.

I'm not too worried about his trip to see my parents since he's done that for the past three summers, but he's never gone to a sleep-away camp before. And ya know, I'm no geography whiz, but I don't think Nevada is REAL close to Alabama. I could be wrong, but since the flight is nearly 4 hours long, I think it might be kinda far away. He's going to be gone for eleven days. ELEVEN.

One day for every year he's been around.

I've never been away from him for so long before, and I'm feeling kinda melancholy. On one hand, I am excited for him and VERY proud of him for being so brave. He isn't worried about camp in the least. We found out there is going to be another kid with his exact name at camp at the same time. He's pretty excited about that.

I'm gonna miss him like crazy, that's all.

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

I'm back!!!

Hey, howzitgoin? I've been out of touch for the past week or so because of our move. Yes, sportsfans, this constantly relocating chica relocated again. Thankfully, this time, it was only 8 miles away. No new schools, no new book clubs, no new doctors, no new jobs. Just a new zip code and a new house. After relocating approximately 8,435 times in the past five years, I thought this little jaunt across town would be a piece of cake. I was WRONG!!!

There is something nice about a real move and a real deadline. Because we were "just" moving across town, we didn't really have to pack, right? So, we basically didn't. What that meant was that Saturday and Sunday, we had to go through each room inch by inch and throw everything that wasn't nailed down into a box which we didn't label or seal, we simply threw in the U-Haul and hauled. Can I tell you? That's not the FDA recommended way to move.

Saturday: up at 6:00am, drop Chase at a friend's house
Move move move move move move, then the movers come for the big stuff.
Movers leave after lugging piano, beds, dressers, desks, etc.
Move move move move move move
Chase is invited to spend the night with said friend.
Move move move move move move
Dinner at 9pm.
Fall into bed exhausted at new house completely surrounded by boxes and junque.

Sunday: up at 6:30am (hey, we slept in!!)
Move move move move move move
Move move move move move move
Last Financial Peace University class at church
Last swim at backyard pool in old house (sniff)
Unpack unpack unpack unpack
Fall into bed exhausted at new house less surrounded by boxes but still crowded.

Monday: up at 5:26am
Divine Hubby goes to work and Chase goes to school
STQ goes to the old house and cleans like a madwoman.
Carpet cleaners show up, clean carpet and tile because I have to get the keys to the management company by noon or we will be charged for another day. More cleaning like madwoman.
Have to leave before I finished cleaning because carpet cleaners are in route to new house.
Swept quickly and left giant pile of dirt in kitchen and cleaning stuff in sink.
Carpet cleaners come to new house and clean carpet.
I drive 45 minutes in traffic to management company only to realize I left one house key and mailbox key in the house.
I go into the management company to beg and plead for them to let me mail it.
They say no.
I beg and plead to be able to bring it in tomorrow.
They say no.
I sniffle a little and then resign myself to spending roughly three more hours in the car driving back to the house, then back to the management company, then back to the house.
I go to the car and realize that yes, Virginia, there is a God...the house/mailbox key is in the car!
I tear back to the old house to finish cleaning, only to find a car with Ohio license plates in the driveway.
Thinking of the state in which I left the house, I. Freak. Out.
Luckily, it is a couple who saw it was vacant and snuck in the dog door to look around.
I ask them not to tell the management company I was there and sneak in said dog door to finish cleaning.
Three hours of feverish cleaning later, I sneak back out the dog door, am late picking up Chase from school and collapse in exhaustion at our new house.

And, did you know that there is not much need for substitute teachers during the last week of school? Huh. So, I'm basically unemployed for the summer. Which sounds good, but I was sure hoping to make a couple of hundred extra smackolas before becoming a woman of leisure again...oh well.

This woman of leisure has been unpacking all day, and honestly, it doesn't look like it! How much junque can one family have? Well, this family has a LOT.

So, think of us as you are living your leisurely, non-constantly-relocating lives. Personally, I'm hoping never to see a cardboard box again.