acceptance

I am boring.

I am, really. And it's okay, I've accepted it. Recently.

There was a time, though, that I so badly wanted to be the go-to fun-loving, thrill-seeking, good-for-a-late-night laugh pal. But I've never been able to pull of inauthentic without looking, well, completely inauthentic. I can remember once as a kid wanting a different laugh, so I'd practice it in my room, when no one was home. I was young, but wise enough to know how silly and forced it sounded, so I moved on to something else, like flavored sugar that you'd suck off a candied dipstick.

Point is, I'm okay with my boringness and that jokes don't live up my sleeve and I have no desire to go anywhere after ten pm where beer is served out of plastic cups and bathroom floors smell (and look) like something that's been dead on the side of the road for a year. Even if just an unoriginal laugh.

I do like to spend my time being creative, active, and calm and among my family. That's when I'm happiest. Fortunately, it also seems to be when my husband is happiest (though he could probably do without the active part) and, so far, little one, too.

So, this past weekend, when we packed up the car and headed the six hours to our home-town, that's exactly how time was spent. We have family who let us stay in their beautiful lake home, reminiscent of ones you'd see in the pages of Coastal Living. Talk about authentic, there wasn't a thing in that house that wasn't (except maybe the LEGOs on hand for little one). From exposed wooden beams to early 20th century glass, to the wood that furnished it, it was an escape right in the middle of nature. No cell coverage, no internet...just the water, the trees, and the breeze.



We swam, we kayaked, we ate smores, and we fell asleep on the porch one rainy afternoon. What was remarkable about spending a weekend at a lake I grew up with, was watching my daughter experience it for the first time.

As I've said, I can know something as well as I know my own name and somehow, watching her experience it is getting to know it all over again as if I never knew it any other way.

::

I ran in my fifth 15K Utica Boilermaker on Sunday; my dad ran in his fourth! I ran my best time, but the results won't reflect it because there was a malfunction with the chip timing system.

For those of you who aren't familiar with the running world, there are two times that a runner receives:

• The Gun Time--the time it took a runner to finish the race from the sound of the gun

• The Chip Time--the time it took a runner to finish the race from the point he/she crossed the start line

The distinction is important because in big races, like the Boilermaker, it can take anywhere from a minute to fifteen minutes before a runner makes it to the start line after the gun fires. For instance, on Sunday, it took me three minutes to get to the start and it took my dad 12 minutes! So when Chip Timing malfunctions, the only record they have is gun time finish, which in my case tacked on an inaccurate three minutes and in my dad's case, an inaccurate 12 minutes! It not only throws off your time, but your place as well.

Now, I don't mean to complain, these things happen. I should be satisfied with the knowledge that I ran my best regardless of what the "official" results convey. And I am. I just can't help but be an "itty bitty bit" bummed, as Ava would say.

::

Go Slow

This time-compression thing happens at night. I fix dinner, we eat it, clean up dinner, play for a bit. Get ready for bed, go to bed. All within about two hours.

This leaves little room for my age-preventing, life-saving grooming routine. In other words, I was skipping the fancy skin-care regimen that would keep me looking young, and, I hate to admit it, the all-important flossing routine that would keep me alive.

So, I'm doubling up. While Ava plays in the tub, I kneel beside her and floss. She sings about it and I try not to laugh, but she makes it hard.

While she brushes her teeth after bath, I put on my Youthtopia--skin and eye cream.

Before she goes to bed, we both drink a glass of water, "together" as she says.

And while I read her stories before bed, Pete heats up my water for a cup of tea. I drink it while I tidy up any work items or make a list for the next day...or, just sit on the couch next to him and do nothing.

Then I brush my teeth and head straight to bed.

[Curbing the Urge to] Splurge

I got an adorable little notebook for my birthday that I've been keeping track of writing ideas in. On Monday, I reserved a page in the back to keep track of credit card spending. I know there are all kinds of great software out there that can slice my data in five hundred different ways...but I just want to see what how much I'm putting on the credit card, where, and when. Kind of like I do with my diet when I'm training or overeating.

It's worked to curb mindless eating; let's see if it's successful in curbing mindless swiping.