Just when you thought the new me was going to shed all my bad habits... I found some cookies in the freezer. (You know how we feel about cookies!) To say I don't know how old they are would be a lie. They were shaped like jack-o-lanterns and had black sugar all over them. But I will say this, I have NO idea where they came from. Which, now that I think about it, brings up the age question, again. Could be fro 06, not 07 as I once believed. Did that stop me from eating one myself -- just to make sure they weren't rancid -- and then feeding them to my kiddies? NO. This "new me" business is a total farce. But the old me loved the cookie and loved taking pictures of the boys as they ate their cookies. Aren't you glad there is still a little of the old me left?
For an old lady with two kids I think I can still run pretty fast, jump pretty high/far, go the distance. But I still don't like what I look like in shorts and/or swimsuits. So, the new me is looking for some workout routines.
I started out in boot camp. My local gym doesn't really have a good boot camp. So, I tried the new class that everyone is talking about -- ZUMBA. Now, I've been hearing about Zumba from some of my friends who workout downtown in the fancy gyms. It's been growing in popularity for about a year and I'm just finally getting to it -- ahh, life in the burbs.
If you don't know what Zumba is, go to youtube and do a search. If you know me well, or if you have ever seen me on the dance floor, seeing the routines alone will crack. you. up! But, I went because after all the new me is about trying things I don't want to try.
A few of my thoughts on the class...
1. I got sweaty, so it's a good workout. 2. I have never felt so white in my life. 3. Judging from the ladies in the room, we Midwesterners aren't too comfortable with our sexuality. 4. If you threw in a pole... well, you get the idea. 5. I'll probably keep going 2 times a week.
The secret to the class is to stand somewhere where your own image is not visible in the mirror. Then you can't see your uncoordinated, lacking-all-rhythm self. You just watch the hot instructor who has "permanent" boobs and cut abs (replete with a 1-carat diamond stud in her bellybutton). Pretty soon you think you look like she does. Just don't look at a mirror on the way out.
Our family was on special assignment this morning. We were car shopping. Not for a car that will find its way to our garage, but for my father's dream car. (Dad, when Coop saw the black version he gasped, "Oh my gosh, it's the batmobile!). The task took us to two dealerships. I would say the first car we looked at today was the better of the two. But it's probably a matter of personal opinion. The boys loved the adventure and Cooper fully thought he was going to get to ride in the "race car." Alas, that was not his fate. As my husband pulled away from the dealership in the fancy, Victory Red Corvette Cooper teared up and his chin promptly dropped to his chest. He was devastated.By the time we made it to the second dealership the boys had figured out the routine. But Mason took greater interest in the flowers planted at the entrance to the car lot. He pointed and said flowers! Pretty amazing. I think it was the first time he said that word. He was also more interested in the screaming yellow Hummer parked next to the Corvette.Naturally there was a fair amount of talk along the lines of, "Now you need to get one for yourself." That's funny. Car seats + Corvettes = Bad, Bad, Bad. Then car dealer guy would say, "Well, maybe in 10 years." I was thinking, are you kidding!?!?!? I'll have a pre-teen who will salivate over a car like this. Not on your life! Then I was thinking, "He just rode his bike for the first time I'm not ready to think about him driving a car for the first time." Good luck, dad. Hope you find the car of your dreams.
There are few things my boys -- all three of them -- like more than breakfast. A usual Sunday (today was NOT a usual Sunday) includes a morning trip to the Egg & I for some breakfast. The boys are very well-behaved at this restaurant and because we go so often all the waitresses know them. It's fun to go to a place where you are a regular. It's a bit like, "coming home."
My boys are such experts at breakfast that they patiently wait to order (coloring all the while). Then when the waitress shows up Cooper announces, "I'll have the Waffle Express!" Usually the same is ordered for Mason. When it arrives they heartily dig in. The Express includes a 2 small-ish waffles, 2 scrambled eggs, 2 links of sausage, and an enormous dollop of butter.
My boys push the butter aside -- because as Cooper once told us it is NOT ice cream -- and dig in. Coop always finishes his waffles and makes a significant dent in everything else. Mas always finishes his eggs (and any Coop leaves behind) and usually finishes everything else, as well.
We've received some dispiriting news. One of Coop's first and best friends is moving to London. Explaining this to Coop has been difficult and he is quite blue. The whole affair has me thinking about what it's like to move. As a child I moved a lot. But I was generally the one who moved away, not the one that stayed behind. Now I've come to realize that it's hard to be the one left behind, as well.
To help both Coop and his friend feel a little better the moms planned a day at Chuck E. Cheese -- the universal beacon of lightheartedness. We ate really bad pizza, planned the moving family's new blog, and let the kids go wild. Enjoy my pictures from the day and please note Coop wearing his sunglasses throughout the adventure.
PS -- As much as I disliked moving as a child, I recently had the opportunity to express all the places I'd lived as a "qualification" for a job. I had lived in many of the states in Qwest's 14-state region (and a few outside of it, as well).
We've been watching a little too much Curious George. After a recent episode in which George climbs up the T-REX bones and then falls and gets a broken limb, I started finding the boys in higher and higher perches. While I can't seem to convince them to dampen their daring, the episode has helped me convince them they need to drink more milk.
You might think that Coop is the instigator. But he really only gets in on the action if I take the camera out (he'll ham it up for the sake of the blog). Mason on the other hand climbs non-stop and seems to have no regard for danger.
My name is Hooli. I don't wake up early. I don't go to the gym. I use excuses like, "My husband travels too much." and, "I have two little boys." as a crutch/excuse to getting out of going new places and meeting new people. But it is a new day, a new me.
At 5:25 a.m. I woke up uttered, "I hope I live to regret this." and trudged to the gym. As hubby is home today I thought I would take advantage and slip out of the house without my kids for an hour at the gym. For some reason I wanted to try Boot Camp class.
I arrived knowing no one and not knowing what to expect. But it doesn't really matter, because the new me tries things. Right? Puh-leez. I don't. I shouldn't have, anyway. The class was so easy. I could have done the workout in 4-inch heel leather boots. Perhaps that's why it's called Boot Camp.
But a little more about the new me. I've decided I'm done with feeling lonely and over-worked when hubby needs to travel. There's no need for it. This past week I did more on my own and with my kids than ever before.
One night the kids and I accepted an invitation to dinner at a neighbors. They have two girls the same ages as my two boys. We fixed dinner and chatted while the kids ran wild in the basement. When we went down to check on the kids we found Coop in a dress!
Perhaps this isn't the start of the new me, but the new him?!!?!?!? One thing I did notice, he picked the nicest get-up in the most masculine colors. (He would only go so far -- no pink, no crown, no princess shoes.). And after a few times down the slide he realized that a skirt can be a cumbersome thing. He ripped it off and would have no more.
So here's the deal. I've been writing this blog for about a year. I've learned a lot. I've started to document some taxonomy and other stuff I'd like to change. So, I'm going to. this means, I'll probably change my URL. So, keep watching for a change.
But if you're really interested in continuing reading this blog you need to let me know. Just post a comment with a request.
Having worked a few site releases in my day, I'm going to employ a few tricks. I'll probably post identical content on both blogs for a while. I'll probably issue a new reference link e-mail. I might even announce the new site (yet to be determined). So, keep in touch.
There's been a lot of fighting around here. In all honesty, half of the time I can't tell if it is real fighting or pretend fighting. And by pretend fighting I mean, they are actually fighting but they think it's fun. Here's a sampling of slam-down at our house.
Not the nose! I need that nose. Leave my freaking nose alone. Are you hugging me? Or strangling me? Because I'm feeling a little short of breath. Can you ease up a bit bro??!!? I'm totally stronger than you think. I'm going to get away. This was a really stupid wrestling move. I can take you down. Seriously? Let go of my leg. Ummm, again with the leg. Let go! I'm pretty sure they love each other. At least, I think...
So, my blogging is kind of lacking right now. But there's a reason. I've been spending that time trying to get Mason's baby book done. (Yes, I'm that far behind.)
In doing so, I've come across some funny, funny, funny photos that I had forgotten about and I just have to share. First things first, meeting as many requests as I can. In a recent comment, bman said...
I need to see a picture of Cooper after eating a chocolate cupcake and ice cream before passing judgment.
Well, how's this?!?!?!?
And then, the other photo I wanted to show you was.... a picture of Cooper when he was about 19 months old (same age as Mason, now).
AND THEN... the other thing I wanted to tell you was a funny thing Coop said today. At lunch he looked at me, smirked, and said, "My kitch name is Coop." Then he put his hand up to his mouth and kind of snickered. When I told him he probably meant "nickname" he said, "No, Nick is someone else's name. I don't know her."
If you call our house both of my boys will go running for the phone. Then as I talk on the phone they jump like fleas around me trying to figure out who it is, and if the person wants to talk to them. The problem I'm having with Mason right now is that when he's permitted to try to talk to someone on the phone he just listens. He won't say anything. Or if he does say something he whispers. But he really does like talking on the phone and pretends he's talking on the phone with anything and every thing from the T.V. remote to well, the picture says it all.
PS -- I have to agree with a majority of the votes. Coop looks a lot like Adam. In some ways they even act alike. But, I have to say he's also a lot like two of his cousins -- Elsa and June. I realize I didn't put those options up, but when I see pictures of those two as babies/toddlers I see Cooper all over the place.
PS -- Also, I think something is wrong with Cooper. His cheeks are bright, bright red.
elle said... I want to see pictures of Julia when she was a little toddler!
Julia responds... Sadly, I was never little. Big, fat, huge. Equally sad, I don't have any pictures of myself as a toddler. But here is one of me as an infant. Check out the cheeks! If I find a better picture I'll scan it and try to post it. Otherwise, just think Michelin tires and you'll get the idea.
While I personally think my oldest son looks like his father and me I am often asked: Now which one of your brothers does he look like? And I have to admit every once in a while I watch him do something and I think to myself, "Oh man, I've seen so so so [oneof my 4 brothers] do that!" And on smell alone he resembles all of them a little bit -- much to my dismay.
Then one of those charming brothers of mine said,
P.S. Coop looks more and more like one of my little brothers...sometimes he throws me an Adam vibe and sometimes he throws me an Andrew vibe.
So, dear reader, now it's up to you. Here are some random Cooper pics and a photo of each of my fine bros.
Let me know.
T and A (no, not that kind)
D
Big A and his C
My C
Maybe I'll do this same exercise with Mason tomorrow. But, I don't think he looks like any of us. In fact, I'm 95% sure we switched him at birth.
When we showed up at the zoo today we were shocked by the crowds. Cra-zy busy. Had to park in a nearby park and walk quite a ways to the entrance.
Within minutes of arriving I could tell the boys were dressed too warm. They were sweating and went into instant crank mode. Our picnic lunch wasn't very popular. According to Coop I brought all the wrong snacks and neither one of them touched their sandwiches.
The line to the favorite attractions -- the train and carousel -- were far to long to wait it out. This started a whole rebellion that ended with a bribe for ice cream. Our ice cream was melty and made a colossal mess, at which time I realized I left the wet wipes in the car.
In the snake house everyone enjoyed the fish, turtles, snakes, and bats. But I was so freaking hot I was sweating like a pig. I'm telling you if they made antiperspirant for faces I would use it. If I even think about getting hot my face sweats. Yuck-O!
But despite all these setbacks, one of our little friends described the day best, "A wonderful time." [Or something like that. I might be paraphrasing because it was hot and I was having a hard time concentrating.]
ps -- J and B, Cooper told me his favorite part of the day was playing "bad guys in the cave!" Thanks for a great, great day.
I found some cookies in the freezer. (You know how we feel about cookies!) To say I don't know how old they are would be a lie. They were shaped like jack-o-lanterns and had black sugar all over them. But I will say this, I have NO idea where they came from. Which, now that I think about it, brings up the age question, again. Could be fro 06, not 07 as I once believed. Did that stop me from eating one myself -- just to make sure they weren't rancid -- and then feeding them to my kiddies? NO. This "new me" business is a total farce.
But the old me loved the cookie and loved taking pictures of the boys as they ate their cookies. Aren't you glad there is still a little of the old me left?
