We just watched the last episode of ‘Lost’ and have been thinking about what a big role the show has played in our lives. We started watching it soon after we got married, we lived in the place it was filmed, we sat on the beach with thousands of other people to see season premiers, we’ve watched it religiously our entire married life. I admit that last season and much of this season I haven’t been as engaged in the episodes, but I did really like the emotional closure of the finale. Yes, there were lots of dead ends and unanswered questions, and yes, any number of shows with completely different plots could end in a similar way and be satisfying. But still. It made me happy. I’m glad we’ve been fans and I look forward to years from now, when we can afford Netflix (or maybe the box sets), to watching it all over again.
What did all y’all think?
Oh, and JATERS RULE!!!!!!!!
In the past two days, Simon has been flying (with wings made from a pillow), been on a boat (fashioned from our couch), turned our rug into water, and informed me that 7 members of my family, as well as several of my friends (the ones who are coming over right now, whoever they may be), are crocodiles.
We sat down on the train, across from an add for McDonalds $1 Sweet Tea.
“What’s that M, Mom?” he asked.
“Mmm hmm. Everyone knows that M,” said the lady sitting next to me. Well, actually . . . I thought.
“M for M&Ms?” (He is familiar with M&Ms, for sure.)
“Not for M& Ms. That M is for McDonalds,” I told him.
“McDonalds. McDonalds.” He tried it out to see how it sounded, then didn’t mention it for the rest of the ride home.
We got off the train and started walking home.
“Mom, I think we should have some McDonalds.”
“I don’t think we really need any McDonalds, Simon.”
“Yes we do. We should have some McDonalds.”
“Why should we have McDonalds?”
“Because we need some.”
“What would we get at McDonalds?”
“We should get some lemonade. We should get some lemonade when we get home.”
“Some McDonalds lemonade?”
“Yes. Maybe we should get some McDonalds lemonade when we get home.”
So McDonalds is, apparently, a lemonade stand. Or maybe a lemonade brand. Or maybe just lemonade that you can make at home. Or something like that.
Last night was “Date Night.” We took the boys over to some friends for some free babysitting and then went out to conquer Brooklyn with our camera. The plan was to take pictures, both so I could learn to use the camera better/faster and so I could have Micah art direct me on some shots so that maybe some day I could learn to take pictures of things that don’t have two eyes, a nose, a mouth and my head shape. It was going to be awesome. Going to be, because, you guessed it, we forgot to charge the camera battery and ran out of juice before we’d even been gone half an hour. Ha.
So we did the next best thing and walked around and talked about what pictures we would have taken if we’d had the camera. It was awesome. We also passed this actor, Garret Dillahunt, pictured at left, sitting on a stoop reading something. Probably a script. We toyed with the idea of going back and telling him how much we enjoyed his creepy character in “Life,” but I chickened out. After we got home and put the boys to bed, we watched some trailers from Apple.com and he was in one of them. Not really a big deal except that I totally missed it and Micah had to point it out to me. Haha.
Next time we’ll remember to charge the battery and talk to the actor whose work we have enjoyed. And then I’ll have a real post with real pictures and a real story.
Check out Micah’s post on the UGoods blog. It has cute pictures of Thing 1.
When Simon was born, he was a hefty, stocky little thing. It was easy to imagine him as a cannon ball, bouncing off walls, zooming through the hallways, climbing up the bookcases and engaging in other such feats of physicality. And here he is, three years later, a cautious little bookworm, who is at his most dangerous when “loving” his little brother.
You’d think I’d learn. But no. Oliver came out longer and leaner than Simon and I quickly pegged him as a sensitive soul, who would probably lag behind his brother’s developmental milestones and have an artistic bent. You know, because he was “scrawny.” He was going to be a baby longer than Simon because it would be forever before he learned to sit or crawl or stand or walk. Don’t ask me where these ideas come from. It’s ridiculous, but I couldn’t help jumping to conclusions.
And Oliver seems to be intent on proving me wrong at every turn. Not that he is not sensitive, because maybe he is. And maybe he will be more artistically inclined than his brother — it wouldn’t take much. But he certainly isn’t waiting to delve into those developmental milestones. He’s been sitting like a champ since he was 5 1/2 months, has two teeth busting through his bottom gums before he’s even 7 months old, and would prefer to stand, if only he had the balance. Even the doctor says he’s showing signs of being an early walker.
So I’ve been adjusting my perceptions of Oliver as of late and giving him a little more credit for his abilities. Today he got to splash in the “brook” at the Children’s Museum for the first time. He has his own seat at the table. (Simon wasn’t as happy about giving his chair to Oliver as one would hope, but at least he hasn’t done anything drastic.) And we think it’s about time we started encouraging him to sleep through the night a little more strongly. If anyone has any tips about how to go about doing that, please share. We’d be much obliged.
We ran, among the 12 of us, about 180 miles. Micah covered 23+ of them, I did 17. We ate lots of homemade granola bars, bananas, hummus, bread with honey butter and peanut butter, and a turkey reuben sandwich. We brought enough food to feed the whole van and then, most of the time, decided it was too close to our next run to eat anything.
Oliver slept while we were driving and made pleasant baby sounds when we weren’t. We discovered his love for “How Much is That Doggy in the Window,” especially the “woof woof!” part. It never got old. Rounds of laughter every time.
If I had a dime for every time someone asked which legs Oliver was running, I could probably buy something at the dollar store. Give him 16 years, I thought. (Not that we’re going to make him run if he doesn’t want to, but I think it would be awesome to do this with the boys when they’re older.)
My favorite moment was when I blew by a shirtless guy with a tattoo during the last mile — a pretty steep hill — of my 8-mile run.
Micah passed way more people than I did and probably didn’t get passed at all because he is a rock star.
I was running sub-8 minute miles (like, 7:58 or something) which I never ever ever in a million years thought I could do. Micah was running sub-7s because he is a rock star.
We lost 8 pounds between the two of us. Probably water weight, although we tried to keep ourselves hydrated.
We were both really pleased with our consistency: we didn’t go out too fast, we didn’t end up running slower at the end. And we finished feeling great.
I think we used the portapotties about 7,836 times, just because it felt like the best use of our time while waiting for our van’s turn to run.
Our t-shirts are awesome (see picture above). One of our teammates designs shirts for American Eagle, so he designed our shirts. They are awesome. I’ll post a better picture later.
The finish line had this amazing view of the City, with the George Washington Bridge and the Empire State Building. It was gorgeous. Too bad we didn’t get a picture of it.
Last week, before the run when we were burned out of training and stressing about the pasta party and the van rental and anxious about the boys and annoyed at all of the rules and changes in the course, we were pretty sure we would never want to a Ragnar again. But we haven’t been able to talk about anything else since we got home. I don’t know how long it will be, but I’m pretty sure this won’t be our last relay.
Who’s in for the next one?
Our team, Team JetPack, started the day strong. Van 1, carrying the other half of the team, had an 11:30am start time and left Woodstock before we left the City. Our van met them 25 miles down the course where they finished their first set of legs and our van started ours — which is where things went south a little bit. Our first runner was running in the middle of a hot and humid day, up and down a lot of hills, on a few hours of sleep. And he put all he had into it. We cheered him on at mile 4, then passed him by to meet him at the exchange where he was going to hand off to me. We waited at the exchange for a while. We watched as runners that were behind him came in. We stared down the road and started to worry. Finally another team that was waiting mentioned something about seeing him go off the course, chasing him down, picking him up, and about him not being in great shape. Once we were sure they weren’t kidding (“Are you serious?” “Yes, we’re serious.” “No, really, you’re not joking?” “Nope.” “Wait, what?”), Micah and our runner’s wife went to see if they could find him, and while they were gone, the other team brought him to the exchange in their van. He was severely dehydrated and ended up spending the rest of the race in the hospital. We were all pretty shaken up, but still had to finish the race.
After the ambulance had taken our runner and his wife to the hospital, I grabbed a water bottle and headed out for my first leg. It was a really beautiful course and I only saw 3 other runners the whole time, which made for a really peaceful run. (The start times are staggered so that there aren’t too many vans at each exchange at any time). I got in and handed off the next runner and our team finished the next two legs without incident. Our 5th runner was at the hospital with her husband, but she decided to run anyway, so one of the race officials brought her to the exchange where she was supposed to start. Except it was the wrong exchange. She waited there for a while before realizing she was in the wrong place, and we waited at the right exchange a while before going to the other exchange to try to find her. We crossed paths en route, and she got to the right exchange, started running, and Micah and I tried to find her at the next exchange. We missed her, obviously, and after talking to the race director, he told Micah to go ahead and start running and we could skip her leg (we didn’t know she had already started). So, he headed out, I went back to get our two remaining teammates, we went to the exchange and picked up our runner when she finished her leg, then went to meet Micah as he finished his. It ended up working out perfectly. Everyone still got to run, we made up a little bit of time, and then we got to rest a bit while Van 1 ran their second set of legs.
The rest of the race went off without incident, for the most part. We had some achy knees and blisters, we tried to sleep, we waited for a long long time to run our last set of legs, we passed the time by using the portajohns and wondering when and what we should eat so as to be prepared for our next run. (The wait was really long for me since Oliver was awake and everyone else was asleep.) Micah and the other man in our van ran our injured runner’s remaining legs, and they both did the extra miles without a problem. Van 1 finished their legs and went home, exhausted, while we ran our last set, so it was just our 5 remaining runners and Oliver crossing the finish line together. Bittersweet, I guess. Great that we were finished and we had a good time, and that Oliver hardly cried at all, but not so great in that we still had a teammate in the hospital and that we didn’t get to celebrate with the other half of our team. We didn’t stick around at the finish line long. We had to get back to return our van and rescue our babysitters from our child.
Micah and I dropped the rest of our teammates at a train station, then drove to New Jersey, packed up all of our stuff and Oliver, and hopped on the train back to the city and then caught the subway to Brooklyn. Our friends who watched Simon made us some pizza, we chatted for a bit, and then they drove us home. (Ten thousand thank yous to the Larsens for all their help.) We got in at about 10:00 last night, put the boys to bed, got ourselves in bed at around midnight, then slept until 10:30, when both boys started to make noise. (I had, of course, been up to feed Oliver, but other than that, we slept like the dead.) We were sad that we woke up too late to go to church (there would have been less than an hour left by the time we got there) because we actually feel really good. Hardly sore at all, and only a little bit tired.
Just got back from the relay. A good time was had by most. Oliver was a dream. Details tomorrow if I manage to get out of bed.