You're welcome.
Wanderings
Recently, Jack got lost in a store. He became engrossed in a kids' movie on one of the tvs and failed to follow me down an aisle. When I realized he was gone and came back, he wasn't there. My heart started to race as I frantically searched for him, all the while Kate was begging me to allow her to stay and watch the tv while I looked for Jack. Um, no. Jack is a fairly responsible 7 year old and sure enough, I heard my name summoned over the loudspeaker. He had went straight to customer service. After a few hugs and tears, we went over the scenario. I asked him what he said to the employees at the counter. He said "My mom is lost" and gave them my name. I asked him why he didn't say he was lost and he replied "Well, I knew where I was the whole time." Indeed.
What probably helped is that he also wore his doctor outfit to the store that day. I had bought him a coat a few months ago and a friend embroidered his name on it with the words "Cardiovascular Surgery" under it. He will not wear a t-shirt under the coat, only a collared, button up dress shirt. And he almost always has a stethoscope around his neck too. So perhaps this only gave Jack an advantage as a misplaced child. Any would-be kidnapper would think "Oh, it's just a tiny (midget, little person, etc) surgeon, here on lunch break." Dougie Houser at Wal-Mart, just buying some post-it notes or something.
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| Please don't bother the good doctor; he'll be late for a triple bypass. |
Statistics
Of course, a little update on the most horrendous math in existence. I swear that on the last test, she was just making things up. Because really, who's going to call her on it? A student stands up "Uh, excuse me, I believe it's Sigma multiplied by the sum of Beta and the Y-value, not Sigma multiplied by the sum of Beta squared and the Y-value."
So on the last test I didn't know what any of the wording meant and I had forgotten all the equations I'd ever learned in my entire life. I basically just started square rooting things and multiplying them together, hoping she'd give me credit for all the hard work I did in making things up.
While at the library the other day, I was checking out some sitcoms and joking with the librarians that it's the only way I can handle doing my statistics homework. The elderly gentleman at the counter said "My wife didn't finish her PhD because of that class."
I hope you're happy, statistics. You're ruining people's lives.
Boots
Boots are incredibly popular nowadays. If you're not convinced, look down. Chances are you'll see some boots. Maybe they'll be on your own feet. If you didn't realize that before, you have some serious problems, my friend.
Anyway, I thought I'd get some boots. I usually stay away from trendy things (although my childhood of curled bangs and miniature backpack purses say otherwise) but I happen to like the way boots look. With skirts, leggings, cute skinny jeans tucked into them.
Let me back up a minute here and begin by stating that I've never really given much thought to my calves. Stomach? Yes. Thighs? Absolutely. Weird little packets of fat behind the arms? Sure. But my calves? Eh, haven't really thought of them much.
I do now.
In my quest for boots, I've discovered something rather disheartening: My calves are simply too fat for cute boots. Pair after pair of mid-calf or knee-high boots were discarded in a pile of broken dreams. Guess me and my big ol' legs are sticking with flip-flops.
Speaking of legs...
Treadmill
We recently acquired a used treadmill. I'd rather run outside (well, not really) but it's hard enough to force my body to run when it's just me, let alone a jogging stroller with a toddler inside. What do I do with my arms? Do I push the stroller ahead and run normally until I catch up? Do I run with one arm on the stroller and one pumping for the run? Those are the only options I could think of, and neither worked. So I decided to get a treadmill and then I could run inside. Well, the first two weeks we had it were rough. I could only run for maybe 20 minutes (the length of an Office or something) and my legs would be burning. Now, I'm not in the best shape (see above paragraph) but good gracious, I didn't think I was that bad. After two weeks, I noticed that the back of my thighs were really sore when I walked. Normally it's my calves that burn (hey, maybe my calves are just athletic!) so this was really odd. An idea came to me. I went to the treadmill and son of a buttered biscuit! Look at that incline!
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| Ok, it doesn't look that high. But it is! I swear! |
My best friend told me that it was a good thing. Think of all the calories I had burned without even realizing it! But the elation is short lived. What does that say about me that I didn't even notice my treadmill was slanted so much?
Nothing good, I can tell you that much. Nothing good.
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