Erasure

The drive into work this morning was astounding. It was foggy, so all of the winter trees had grown white fur overnight -- they looked like they were wearing sweaters. This was my first drive in the fog from our new house and I felt like I was driving though an alien landscape -- the white of the snow blended with the white of the fog in such a way that the road appeared to end mid-page, as if someone had erased it from the landscape. The fog hung low enough that only the bottom half of trees were visible, the also added to the whole "erased" feeling.

I think that country snow is just whiter than city snow. For one thing, the plows don't criss-cross the roads repeatedly all night long, laying a dusting of sand. They aren't as traveled, so the city soot is non-existent. Drifts mound like powdered sugar, casting blue shadows. Yet three paces from a four-foot drift, the wind has scrubbed the landscape clean, bristly brown grass pokes through the sparse scattering of snow. Naturally, the biggest drifts on our property are between our house and garage, the sidewalk now seems like a tunnel for Violet as the snow is as deep as her ears.

Anyway... In other news I am finishing Day 2 of low-carbing. I truly can't lose weight any other way, so I finally bit the bullet and decided that if we want to conceive child #3, I've got to get my rear in gear and lose weight. Aside from a general chocolate-withdrawal grumpiness, I'm managing OK so far. I even selected a good lunch at the college's dining service this afternoon -- a huge mixed-greens salad with cherry tomatoes, sunflower seeds, blue cheese (hey! I'm not pregnant yet!), and garbanzo beans. I put the cheese on in lieu of salad dressing -- fewer carbs and no added sugar. Then I only got seasoned meat from the dangerous side of the dining room -- I passed by tortillas, pineapple crisp, soft-serve ice cream, risotto with three kinds of olives (I DIE for a good olive) and pork fried rice. Yay me!

Exercise is another issue entirely. I really LIKE to exercise, particularly when it's in a group setting. But finding an affordable class in our small town is impossible. I have a facebook friend that I envy -- she goes to hip-hop aerobics, turbo kick, and other butt-burning classes to which I simply don't have access. Plus, her husband works regular hours, so she can count on him to be home to watch her daughters so that she can work out for a couple of hours. So not my life... I miss that regularity, though. And I love the feeling I get after I've really pushed myself. I actually LIKE that sore muscle feeling. Not a hurt muscle, but a sore one. I like the gnawing ache because it is a very clear reminder that I've accomplished something. Maybe some day...

As soon as I post this, I'm going to put a post-it note with my weight on my bathroom mirror. I'll change it if my weight changes. Maybe this will be the equivalent of the picture of a grotesquely obese woman in a bikini that other weight-lost questing people put on their refrigerators. I don't want to scare the kids, after all. I do want to be in better shape and soon, before Violet can really remember me as anything but fit, healthy and happy.

I can remember that every January, my mom would start some new-exercise-something as a resolution. But it was forcing something on her that she really didn't enjoy, so she never followed through. Do I really want my kids to think that I can't follow through? Do I want them to be able to name off eight or nine exercise machines that got a lot of use for two weeks after the holidays, then got absorbed into the landscape of the house, serving as clothes hangers or pit stops for backpacks? No. So I need to take care of this soon, before four slips into five and memory becomes permanent.

Rock'n'Roll, Baby!

"I am Iron Man, nuh-nuh-nuh nuh nuh-Iron-Man." this is Milo's new favorite song. And, Scott, being the preschooler-pleasing daddy he is, went out and bought a Black Sabbath CD for my 3.75-year-old child. I really have no objections to the "Iron Man" song, but can't stomach the rest of the disc. I didn't do Ozzy when I was a teen and I'm still not getting the appeal.

The other disc he purchased for my not-yet-in-schooler, however, is Led Zeppelin 4. And I'm way cool with that. Turns out Milo likes a grinding guitar and driving rock rhythm. A lot. And baby girl can rock'n'roll, too. She's a headbanger... Who knew? I am A-OK fine with this because it means that we've been listening to much less country pop crap. Never thought I'd be so glad to tune in to the classic rock station.

Miss Violet has hit another milestone -- she pointed at her reflection and said, "Vi-let!" Yay, baby girl! She's also actively trying to start conversations about things around her, whether or not I can understand her is a completely different matter. Ah, my happy child... She greets each spring day with a sense of wonder and charged excitedly into the morning. She is so dang refreshing...

Mr. 'lo has been enjoying the spring weather by adding to his "c'lections" of sticks and rocks, mostly sticks. We look like we have a pathetic pile of kindling on our porch, but it's actually Milo's "C'lection" of sticks. They are used as light sabers, staffs, swords, guns, and "Inny Jones'" whip. Fortunately, though my child is armed to the teeth, he is not aggressive and actually feels quite badly if he hurts someone. As in may even cry harder than the child who was hurt.

As for me? Well, I don't know if we'll have enough people to field a competition synchro team next year. We need to have eight and may only have five, so who knows... I would likely be coaching next year and that will require some money up front for credentials, background check, and taking judging tests. I don't really want to pay all of that unless we're actually going to compete, but the application deadlines are due 13 days before we resume practice and, I assume, learn if we'll have a team. What do I do? I dunno...

I think that if I'm not skating on a team, I may not continue to skate. I might pursue local fitness opportunities by taking a pilates or yoga class. I would save gas money and time because I'm driving 35 miles to the rink and back, but, on the other hand, I kind of like getting out of town every now and then. And I'm afraid that if I start doing stuff locally, I'll be less anonymous in the community -- although, I'll lose some of that anonymity when the kids get into school. Particularly since they'll be the rock'n'rolling Olingers...

I got the blahs...

There are so many things I should be doing right now. Blogging isn't necessarily one of them, but here I am. I have a to-do list a mile long for work and the house is a pit, due mostly to sick kids the past week. I haven't been able to properly clean as the dining room catch-all went to Hades when I was in Denver -- it is simply not a priority for Scott to keep things orderly. But I have always known that bout him, so I have little about which to complain. I married him knowing that he doesn't like to put stuff away until he suddenly can't find something important.

We have been watching Battlestar Galactica (the new version) and it makes me want to act. I haven't been onstage since fall of 2000 and that's a really long time for me. But the idea of rehearsing a show in the evenings whilst working all day seems cruel -- I'd be losing precious time with my babes. The time is so short that I don't want to miss any minute of it. So my creative energy is stifled right now.

I've fallen off the exercise wagon and can't seem to get back on it. I'll force myself to run tonight before the kids go to bed. It's important and I need to do it. Half an hour and the treadmill is right there in the room with them.

I've also been browsing house plans. I think it's sort of nuts to think we can afford to build a home right now. Like, really nuts. I don't think Scott has a good grip on exactly how expensive it will be. Concrete and HVAC cost moolah and a lot of it. Yes, we can do most of the rest of it, but I don't know that it is the right move for us this instant. On the other hand, I think we can fit three kids in the nursery if we have to -- Milo will love sleeping in a loft above Violet's toddler bed, I just know it! We're not expecting a third yet, but one of these days...

Speaking of the kids, Milo will start preschool next year, yay! And boo because he's getting older and behaving more and more like a real kid. Although he was asking me yesterday what would happen as he gets older and I said, "Well, you may not believe it now, but when you get older you won't want me to kiss you goodnight and you'll think everything I say is stupid."

His eyes widened and he clutched my hand tighter, "No, Mommy, you're smart! You are always smart! I love it when you kiss me good night!"

I do, too, baby...