Not to dwell on my daughter's bowel movements or anything, but I've got another doozy for ya. It happened this morning. Madelyn was happily bouncing away in her little jumperoo deluxe (which I highly recommend I might add, both of my girls love love LOVE this thing), and Chloe was on an exciting adventure of her own with the Little Einsteins, so I took the opportunity to go through the nine thousand movies I own and never watch in prep for a big garage sale.
Somehow, while in mid bounce Madelyn decided to do her business. Now, I didn't notice even a slight pause in her rythmic bouncing, so I'm thinking that's quite a feat in itself, but here's the truly amazing part: her diaper and the foot of her soft fuzzy footie pajamas were full of you know what. But here's my quandry: there was not a trace of poo anywhere else. So how did the child manage to send what she was packing...well..packing without leaving even a smidge of evidence of it's travels? She can't possibly have managed to find a way to empty herself via her big toe (or toe thumb as my 4 year old nephew calls it) although I am a firm believer that the big toe is quite the anomaly of its own. (Just look at it for crying out loud. It completely dwarves its toe ounterparts and is perhaps the only toe that can move in and of itself. The others are forced to move practically as a one semi-synchronized unit. And let us not forget it is also the only other toe that makes a serious attempt at growing it's own head of hair.)
Hmmm...perhaps I am not explaining myself clearly enough here. Her diaper AND her little footie was FULL. I'm not talking a stray nugget here. I'm talking FULL BLOWN MESS. Again, just imagine the possibilities. Must I remind you about the weapons...?
Ok onto other less smellier subjects...my new running shoes. They are still sadly sitting patiently in their box. I was so excited to take them out on their first excursion yesterday. I had an 8 mile run planned and my husband graciously offered to take the kiddies to visit Grandma so I could introduce the shoes to my favorite running trail without the distraction of children. But my time was limited only about 4 hours.
Yes, I realize this sounds like ample time to get in 8 miles and you might be wondering just exactly how slow I am and what a crazy fool I must be to think I can possibly run a 1/2 marathon in 2:11 if I can't manage to get 8 miles run in 4 hours. So let me explain what exactly that 4 hours included. Only this: getting two children, fed, dressed, packed up and ready to go. Then of course getting myself ready for a run (not that that's a major project, I throw on some running clothes, hair in a pony tail, grab the gu and a bite to eat on my way out the door). Then drive 20 minutes to pick up my mom, who also needs to get a run in and head over to the park behind her house. Of course stop for a potty break, stretch a little (very little...I'm so so bad about this), run 8 miles, stretch a little more, grab a bite to eat lunch, drive home, shower, change, repack the kiddies, and get to church (this was Sunday). See I'm not as slow as you might think.
So in my rush, the last thing I do is throw on my new running shoes. Ahhh...they felt so good and I realize they're not laced right. At least, not for me. I'm an ankle looper. I make that extra little loop up near the ankle for a little more support. So I unlace them a bit and start to lace them up right only to realize the laces are far too short to accomplish what I am trying to do. Now I'm faced with a decision. I can either run with a floppy lack of ankle support that I'm not used to and risk injury, or I can completely unlace them and relace them with my old shoe laces risking running out of time and not being able to complete my run (or being late for church which is probably much more likely).
I opt for neither and instead sadly grab my old running shoes and head out the door and leave the new shoes to break in another day. Which quite possibly could be today, since we are just all chillin like Bob Dylan here at home as I wait for Madelyn to get sleepy enough for a nap so I can head on down to the basement for 4-5 miles and I've got plenty of time to relace. Well, barring any distractions that is. Perhaps I should quit typing and get to it before I miss this sweet opportunity eh?
'Til next time...