Scenes from the weekend

I nearly flopped on the couch Sunday night as Mark queued up the second episode of the new season of "House of Cards." I was tired, exhausted maybe, and I wanted more than to sit on my backside.

After all, it had been one of those weekends. It wasn't jam-packed with adventures but rather full of family and memories, going and coming. Standing and running. Fun ... delicious, delicious fun.

SATURDAY | A trip to the mall and carousel. Miles has been making big gains toward becoming a "big boy," and we rewarded (read: bribed) him with a trip to the carousel. A $2 ride is worth days on days in underpants. And this look on his face. He loved it.

Side note: When we try to explain to Miles why we have to work, he replies that we are making money for the carousel.

SUNDAY | Hockey adventures. I scored some free tickets to the Komets game at work, and I thought we might able to take Miles to a Sunday afternoon game. It would not interfere with his sleep schedule and, if he freaked out, we were not out too much.

Miles was really excited, especially when he split some yogurt with Dad, but it ended with the first goal for the Komets. They blare the horn and the fans are quite enthusiastic, thoroughly freaking him out. We managed to stay through the first period and intermission but couldn't deny repeated requests to leave. On the way home, he kept telling us that he was going to share that he went to the game and it was "scary" with friends at daycare.

ALL DAY, EVERY DAY | ALL THE BREAD. A few weeks ago, I began a sourdough starter. I'm not sure why but it's something I've always wanted to do. It's a fun and dangerous thing as you are making something once a week (or throwing out some starter). I've made traditional bread and sourdough waffles, and this weekend I made this sourdough oatmeal bread. Oh. My. So. Good. I gave one loaf to my neighbors who are always very thoughtful, and I kept one for us. I'm trying not to eat it all but it tasted far too good right out of the oven , with butter after my 12-mile run.

And speaking of that 12-mile run, while there is no "scene," it was quite noteworthy. It was the first long run since early January where conditions were conducive to clocking my normal long run pace and there were sections with actual pavement. I almost didn't know what to do with myself and neither did my legs. I swear they felt slow and heavy without resistance.

How was your weekend?

WINNER! I compiled all of the comments, numbered them and selected a winner for the Core Values challenge. Echowoman, send an email to hlthystrides at gmail dot com, and I'll get you squared away.

... and lived happily ever after

It wasn't just a cry but a wail.

The sound coming from Miles' room was fierce and furious and though we are trying to curtail the nighttime shenanigans, I knew that I had to go up to see what was wrong.

"My nose was stuck in the crib," Miles cried between sobs as I opened the door. "Huh?" I asked as I picked him up, sure that I misunderstood him. "My nose was stuck in the crib," he sobbed.

I sat down with him in the ikea chair, rubbing his back and stroking his hair. I told him that he was OK and everything was alright. I reminded him that he was safe and mama would protect him. With each passing second, his body collapsed deeper into my chest.

I was nearly ready to put him back down when his head popped up. "Mac and cheese story, please." I pretended not to hear him, pushing his head back down. He resisted. "Mac and cheese story, please."

The effing mac-and-cheese story. What was supposed to be a funny stopgap between singing and turning on the light to read another story has become a thing for Miles. He requests to hear it at least once, if not twice, a night. It leaves Mark in a quandary when I'm teaching Thursday nights because his only response to Miles' request is: What the hell is the mac-and-cheese story.

Well, it's a story about a prince ... and, here it is to be recorded for all posterity.

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away lived a warm and generous prince named Miles. Miles was kind-spirited and loved all of the members of the kingdom. He was always doing what was best for their health and happiness, and his spirit was infections and inspiring.

One morning, Prince Miles woke up and looked outside the bedroom window of his castle. It was a beautiful day that begged to be enjoyed so he bounded down the stairs and called everyone to the kingdom square. He declared that it was the perfect day to enjoy a swim and encouraged everyone to come with him.

Prince Miles and the people of his kingdom ran toward the beach, sand squishing between their toes. The dove in to the calm, cool water and began to swim around the outer edges of the lake. The sun was beginning to rise over the water's edge, inching slowly up with each steady stroke. Prince Miles felt as though he was just getting started when he reached the shore once again, even though he had swam 2.4 miles.

Eager to spend more time with his kingdom, he asked if anyone would like to join him for a bike ride. Prince Miles threw on his kit and cycling shoes and led the peleton to the outskirts of the kingdom. They rode up hills and down hills. They navigated curves and rode through meadows. They saw mountains and lush valleys. The bike path was dotted with animals - deer and rabbits, giraffes and zebras, lions and tigers, polar bears and monkeys.

Prince Miles' Garmin read 112 miles by the time he returned to the start. Even still, the kingdom felt invigorated and excited to revisit some of the sights of the bike ride. They laced up their Brooks, filled bottles with Nuun and grabbed a few Gus to sustain them. Their steps were slow but steady, fueled with adrenaline and conversation. They received "oohs" and "aahs" from the monkeys as they passed, and the deer stomped their hooves.

By the time they returned to the castle, 26.2 miles later, the sky had grown dark and Prince Miles' belly began to rumble. He headed inside the castle and asked the cook to make him something to eat. Knowing that Prince Miles needed a dish rich in carbs, protein and fat, he whipped up a decadent batch of mac and cheese. Made with the finest cheese, it was rich and creamy. The first bite was bliss for the hungry Prince Miles, who promptly declared in the best mac and cheese he had ever had. He ate and ate until his belly could take no more but there was still plenty of mac and cheese.

Prince Miles called to the members of the kingdom to come in the castle and enjoy the cook's masterpiece. They all agreed that it was the best mac and cheese and a fitting reward for such an exciting day. They decided that they must do it again next year, if only for the mac and cheese.

The end.

The more we live two-gether

Beyond the closed door and down the stairs, a faint voice carried through.

"Happy birthday to you."

It grew louder as I crept.

"Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you."

Up the step I went, turning onto the landing.

"Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you."

I slowly turned a nob and as I cracked the door, I could see a full fledged smile and eyes brighter than the beautiful July sun. 

It seems appropriate that Miles rang in his second birthday by asserting his independence and refusing to take a nap. On another day, I might have been harried and frustrated but a smirk grew and I found myself outstretching my arms to pick him up. I gave him a kiss and said, "Yes. It is a happy birthday to you."

Maybe it was a bit of shock - it's still hard to believe that my little guy is 2 years old. The little bugger who had to make a definite entrance into the world is a real, live human being with his own thoughts, words and personality. 

And lots of it.

Thoughts. Oh, Miles has them and most of them have to do with you not helping him. He has always been independent but he has become fiercely so, often telling Mark and I to move back as he climbs the big boy slide at the park or takes our stairs standing up unassisted.

His favorite things include dinosaurs, Elmo, Thomas the Train, anything with trace amounts of sugar, going to the park, reading and anything sports related. He loves to ride his tricycle, hang out in the pool and swing a bat with his T-ball set. I went to a new multi-sport store this weekend, and I joked that I've got a future triathlete on my hand.

What is he not a fan of? Waiting. Being patient. Being told no. Not getting his way. You know - the typical toddler things.

Words. Miles has always been a verbal kid but his language seems to multiply daily, and Mark and I couldn't begin to count how many words he knows. We've heard that doctors might say he doesn't really know but we're fairly certain that he knows what he's saying 99 percent of the time. He speaks in sentences, some with as many as six words, and is beginning to illustrate cause and effect in his speech. For example, he said, "Miles cry because sing happy birthday," referencing a fit he threw during his mini party with Nana and Papa. He also likes to ask questions - "What's that?", "What's he doing?", "What does 'I love you' mean?"

Despite his seemingly robust vocabulary, his favorite phrase remains "I hungry."

Personality. Like I said, he's fiercely independent. He's also outgoing and thrives on the attention of others. He's funny and knows what to do to get a good laugh out of you. In quiet moments, though, he can be incredibly sweet. He likes to give his stuffed animals hugs and I caught him today singing to his baby doll and putting it down for a nap. 

Every day is a new surprise (and sometimes a test), and I couldn't feel any more grateful to have such an amazing kid. Happy birthday, Miles!

Three Things Thursday: Little things

1. Monday was a good day. A really good day. My boss returned from vacation, I discovered I won Karen's Spartan Race giveaway and I came home from work to discover a small package from my BFF.

I didn't have the greatest of weeks last week (see boss on vacation), and Pattie knew it. So she took the time to send me a "You're Awesome" box. Inside, I found a supply of Clif Shot Bloks to help me kick off marathon training come July and two pairs of Under Armor knee socks. The socks are offensively bright, which means that I lurve them. I wore them for BODYPUMP on Tuesday, and I felt so  legit.

I felt so lucky and loved that she thought of me and went out of her way to put together the gift. Especially since I just mailed a first birthday gift for my niece, who celebrated Mother's Day weekend.

2. Speaking of lucky, a few months ago I won a giveaway from my favorite local photographer, Kelly Benton, for a free portrait session. It took us three tries for it to come to fruition (dang weather) but Friday night, we met to capture Miles at 2 years.

From last summer's shoot on a near 100-degree day. 

This was our fifth portrait session with her, and each time she surprises me with what she's able to capture. She just posted the photos on her blog and ... let's just say ... wow.

3. I had a date today with a seriously handsome dude.

Ah, the joys of being married to a teacher and the onset of summer!

Mark joined me for Lunch on the Square, and I (finally!) got to partake in food truck goodness. We tried the chili cheese dog and the SnoopDog, as well as some potatoes and mocha Reese's ice cream. Indulgent and delicious.

Sort of like spending time with my husband without the choir of donut and hot dog requests and the "I don't like it" refrain, with the two of us getting to talk about important things like ... uh ... hot dogs.

It really is the little things in life.

Summer Saturdays

Gone are the weekend mornings of going to the library or walking the mall. The anxious anticipation for lunch  and, let's be honest, nap time as we play blocks has disappeared.

The sun is out, the days are warmer and everything about nature screams, "Be outside." Summer, it seems, has finally arrived.

Mark, Miles and I are finding a new rhythm to our days, a rhythm that's measured in cadence and steps. We visit the zoo, packing a lunch to enjoy in Australia. Other days, we walk purposefully around the garden center before heading home to plant flowers and vegetables. Digging in the flower beds is always a must as we are on the constant lookout for worms.

But the days we enjoy most are the ones where we pump ourselves up and put the pedal to the pavement.

Mark and I recently bit the proverbial bullet, buying the Burley Bee bike trailer that we've been eyeing for two years now. We had been hesitant, wondering whether we'd get enough miles to make such a pricey purchase worthwhile. However, in the month that we've had it, it's proven to be a valuable part of our active family.

On Saturdays, I come home from teaching BODYPUMP and as I grab a bite to eat, Mark will pump up the tires. As he brings out the bikes, I make a snack for Miles - usually a combination of Goldfish, raisins and peanuts - and get a couple bottles of nuun.

Our rides are never very long, in the six-mile range, and we always make it a point to include a playground along the route. We stop and let Miles run free. From the comfort of a nearby bench, we've seen our precocious toddler blossom into an independent boy. One who has mastered the steps and ladder rungs. One who has no time for the swing as he finds it too confining. One who likes to "flide" over and over again.

We were quite amazed today at his prowess and lack of fear, taking on the big boy slide. Not just once but a good five times. (Note: We were not sitting on the bench for that one!)

After Miles is sufficiently wore out and our bellies not-so-sufficiently full, we head home for lunch on the patio. They are never anything extravagant - a plate with cottage cheese, baby carrots and grapes or sandwiches - but sitting in the sun as we eat seems to make the meals that much better.

Summer can often be filled with parties and trips, all fun in their own right, but these days, these quiet mornings are the ones I like best.

Three Things Thursday: Munchkin linkup

I think I'm raising a vegetarian.

While it would be a grand idea to think that I'm doing it purposefully, I'm not. Miles just won't eat meat. I gave him a mini cheeseburger on Saturday and he ate the bun but left the patty. Grilled chicken on Sunday went untouched. And I don't ever attempt fish unless it's in the form of tuna casserole.

It's a bit disconcerting because I want him to be a well-rounded, adventurous eater ... and I have failed to make appropriate adjustments for his preferences. I'm in no way saying I'm going to be a short order cook but I want to make sure that there are convenient, non-meat protein sources offered at meals.

Here's what goes down.

1. Breakfast. Miles' breakfasts vary from homemade pancakes to oatmeal to the oh-so-convenient frozen waffle. I also like to offer an egg scrambled with cheese, which he loves, to give him some protein and also hold him over as one of his favorite phrases is, "I hungry."

2. Lunch. Five days a week, Miles is at day care and his meal options are out of my hands. Our provider noticed he didn't eat the beef offered earlier in the week. However, she frequently offers vegetarian protein sources in the form of lentil sloppy Joes, bean burritos and vegetarian chili. The weekends prove harder but it's sometimes a peanut butter sandwich or - gasp - an all beef hot dog, which he will eat. I also try to include some cottage cheese or yogurt in the event he doesn't eat the other proteins, along with a raw vegetable and a cooked vegetable.

3. Dinner. The fight. Every single night it seems. I almost died last night when Miles happily gobbled up sloppy Joes made with ground turkey. It was more than likely a result of the cheese I put on top but it went down the hatch. I'm also making it a habit of offering edamame with dinner, and I have kidney and black beans on the grocery list as they are all on his top food list. Not only will it fill his nutritional needs but hopefully avoid some of the hangry tantrums we get come 5:50 and I'm still coking dinner/

I'm not hoping to raise a prefect eater but a good eater. I just came across this post from Mel's Kitchen Cafe that offered some great tips. My favorite was having the kids count the colors on the plate. Not only will it be fun for Miles as he learns the colors but it will be a good challenge for me to include more in my cooking.

Tips. I'l take them. Or feel free to share your misery!

Weekend discoveries

Chobani bites Fig with Orange Zest. I've been antsy to try the flavor since I saw the social media explosion about Chobani's new flavors a few weeks ago. I didn't think I'd find it - ever- in my grocery store but I checked out the company's product finder and lo and behold, the Fig with Orange Zest flavor was available at a nearby Walmart. The same Walmart that sells tripe and pig neck bones but whatevs. Let me tell you, this flavor is delicious. Like, beyond my wildest dreams delicious. I am considering taking my allowance (yes, I get one) to stock up as to not blow the grocery budget.

Squat lunge. Somehow, know matter how much I listen to the music, I inevitably eff up one track during BODYPUMP. Sometimes it's small, others more noticeable. This week, I tried to start track 7 with squats instead of lunges and missed the upright rows in shoulders (more push presses, y'all!). Arg. Thankfully, I think, the participants are cool. A good reminder I need to practice more during the week.

Pat the penguin. There is nothing cuter than a dad reading to his kid. Nothing.

Future triathlete. Mark wanted to stop at our local bike shop, and we made a detour after buying a dishwasher. (Side note: We are counting the days until it's installed after going five months without one.) We wanted to check prices on bike trailers but our attention was quickly diverted to tricycles. Miles saw the bike and ran through the store, swung his legs over and started "riding" it. He couldn't reach the pedals but could move Flinstone style and was fairly adept at steering. After 10 minutes, we pulled him off and instigated a complete tantrum. Probably didn't help that he went the weekend nap-free.

Book it club. When your child decides to go nap free, the library and its playroom is your best friend. Even the sheep.

***

The winner of the Alexia Foods giveaway is Holly Higgins. Email me (hlthystrides at gmail dot com) your most personal details, or your address + phone number, and I'll get it passed along to the rep.

Cookie monster: A family post

Miles has pooped on the potty about four times int he past six weeks. Pretty awesome for a kid who's not even 20 months but not awesome because it's just a tease. Like, "Hey, mom, great job noticing that I was making my poop face. I am going to let you think that one day you won't need to buy diapers and can get regular pedicures but, really, I plan to wear Pull-Ups to prom."

Anyway, one of those four times this weekend. Miles has been all like, "Potty. Potty!" but really wants to grunt on the toilet for a cookie. Because he thinks it will work, obviously. After one of these incidents, I saw the poop face, threw him on a potty and saw success. Miles saw a cookie in his hand.

I tell you this because I'm pretty sure he remembered the poop + cookie thing this morning. And I want to tell you about this morning, if only to tell someone.

I had to change a dirty diaper - no catching of the poop face for me as I was trying to drown my sorrows and sweat in the tub.

"Poop. Diaper. Change," Miles said.

"Yes. Miles pooped in his diaper."

"Cookie?"

"No. We only get cookies when Miles poops in the toilet."

Cue toddler tantrum. For a good two minutes, he screamed "cookie" with tears streaming down his feet and stomped his feet.

And then he stopped. Caught his breath. Looked at me.

"Cookie? Grammy?" Because, obviously, if we call Grammy (my grandma) in Cincinnati, he is going to plead his case and she will force me to give him a cookie.

Not.

I highly doubt that my grandma is going to sympathize with his plight. The woman goes to dialysis three times a week and has the most rigorous diet restrictions outside of the Biggest Loser Ranch - no sugar, no salt, no liquid, no flavor. So to even associate the woman with cookies, much less at 8 a.m., is astounding. But that's not the point. The point is: Where the hell did he learn that kind of manipulation? If I wasn't so tired and easily agitated by the tantrum, I would have been applauding his genius.

Instead? Instead, I was sweeping up sesame seeds off the floor.

I had the pantry open as I was making homemade barbecue sauce for slow cooker pulled pork and wanted easy access to the chili powder, paprika and whatever else the recipe called for. Miles reached in and managed to find the sesame seeds - sesame seeds I haven't been able to find for months. He opened the jar and promptly dumped them on the ground.

"Uh oh," Miles says.

Uh oh is right. I guess that's what I get for refusing him a cookie. And, yes, I'm fairly certain that a 19-month-old is capable of retaliation.

I was none to pleased I began to vacuum 1,920,201,937,355 sesame seeds out of the crevices of my tile floor. I mean, have you ever tried to clean up sesame seeds? It's a bitch - they hide in corners, the crevices between my tiles and the dog doesn't care to eat them. It doesn't improve the situation when Miles wants to help, pushing a broom three times his size around the kitchen. Sesame seeds aren't particularly cheap, either. The most irritating thing about it, though, was I had been looking for those same sesame seeds last month and couldn't find them yet my munchkin could in 0.019 second. Next time, I'll know to ask for his help.

Actually, next time, I'll have some kind of pseudo cookie so I can avoid the entire shenanigan. Yes, cookies for the win.

Note: My grandma, aka Grammy, in all her wisdom said it was my fault as I should have never given Miles the cookie as a reward. Just lots of "Good boy!"

On making things work and being responsible

There's something going on in my house, and I am not so sure I like it.

For the past two nights, Miles has been up several times. It's not the kind of wakings we're used to - the ones where he will stand in his crib talking or singing "round and round all through the time." The disruptions we've had the past two nights involve lots of screaming and inconsolable crying.

Wednesday night, Miles was up at 10:45, midnight and 2:30. At 2:30, as I rocked him, he pulled out his pacifier and said "cookie" through tears followed by "snack" (his word for cereal bars). He had eaten poorly that night, and I wondered whether it was just hunger. I took him downstairs, gave him a cup of milk and half a cereal bar as I changed his diaper. The cereal bar did little to dry the tears as he cried for another 5 minutes after I put him down.

Trying for a better night Thursday, we made sure Miles ate a bit better at dinner and gave him a big cup of milk before bed. There was no way he was going to be waking up hungry. Like clockwork, though, he was up at 10:45. Mark and I tried all that we could but ended up bringing him to bed. Until 2:30 when we could no longer take the feet in the groin and fingers in the eye. There was more crying but after what I'm sure was not as long as it felt, he fell asleep.

And though we did get back to sleep, it was not enough and when I rolled over at 5:10 - the time when I was supposed to be getting up for a hill workout - I knew it wasn't going to happen. I thought I'd try again when Mark got up but the comfort of the couch called to me. As I laid there, the scenarios began to run through my head: RAW this morning, run tonight; call in late and do RAW + run at the YMCA; go to RAW and push run to tomorrow afternoon; get up early tomorrow, run and then lead BODYPUMP launch.

The ideas swirled at lightning speed - quite an amazing feat for my brain considering my fatigue - but I knew there was one option that was better than the others: skip RAW and runt his morning between dropping Miles off at daycare and going to work.

I made it with a heavy heart. Not only have the RAW workouts become a beloved part of my routine the past month but it would probably be my last class.

Our trial membership to the YMCA ends on Wednesday and after much discussion and creative thinking, Mark and I know that it's not the right time for us to add another monthly bill. It might be different if we didn't have access to a treadmill and were going to use it daily but it as difficult to justify the cost when we were using it for three group classes a week.

It totally sucks. I love the class, the instructor and the group exercise environment, and I almost feel like I'm doing the instructor a disservice. It was also a good learning experience for me as I look toward maybe, just maybe, getting a personal training certificate. But what's a girl to do?

Well, I guess there are some things. I have Bob Harper's "Total Body Transformation," which will be good for strength training; Turbo Fire has some longer HIIT workouts that will have some of the cardio conditioning benefits of RAW; and I've put out a Facebook plea for Insanity in he event that someone has a set collecting dust.

Oh, and then there's Zuzka Light. Nothing like having a hot Russian with enormously fake ta-tas make you do round after round of burpees. Now if she could only put Miles to sleep.

Note: I don't mention finances to garner sympathy. It's just a fact that money is tight, and it's tight for a lot of people.

Coming of age

Stroller ... check. Dino ... check. Monkey ... check. Juice, cereal bars and crackers ... check. Four outfits, diapers, wipes ... check.

Miles and I are heading to Cincinnati this weekend to visit my grandma, and I never cease to be amazed by just how much stuff I need to spend two nights away from home. And I even try to keep it minimal, relying on my family to stock up on things like milk and pack-n-plays. It almost makes me long for the days when all I needed was a car seat, sling and my boobs.

Almost.

It's hard to believe that such a time even existed and yet it feels like just yesterday that I was pacing the walk to soothe him.

Now ... now, I'm chasing a spunky 18-month-old down the driveway and into his car seat so we can go to daycare.

Here's a little bit more about the big man.

He weighs in at 24 pounds and is 31 inches tall, putting him in the 25th percentile - where he's been nearly his entire life.

What he lacks in size, he more than makes up for in vocabulary. He knows more than 100 words. And I mean knows. The most recent additions are hammer, boobies and chip. Obviously, those things go together. I am amazed by his ability to distinguish things such as bus, truck and car and boots and shoes. He also is beginning to string words together but not often.

He has become a bit pickier in terms of food, with some days better than others. Breakfast is usually his best meal, and he loves eggs, cereal bars and yogurt. Today, I managed to get him to eat a waffle. He does lunch well from what I understand but dinner is tough. I'm just happy when he sits down long enough for me to have three bites. His favorites are pasta, cheese and broccoli. Together.

There's also been quite a bit of potty humor in our house. Quite literally. Miles has been obsessed with flushing the toilet, and this week I managed to get him to use the potty (successfully) twice.

Other obsessions: the dynamic duo of dinosaur puppet and sock monkey, "Wheels on the Bus," yogurt, cookies (reward for the aforementioned activities), kicking balls, climbing, bath time, raisins, doing laundry and boots.

Non-obsessions or dislikes: Putting on a shirt, being changed, finger paints (serious aversion) and people whom he doesn't see on a regular basis.

With that last item far too true for my liking, here's hoping this weekend goes well. You know, like he lets people hold him or at least come within a 3-foot range. Or sleeps well. I'd settle for sleep.

Seven (not so) deadly truths

Sometimes you have to be OK with the fact that your toddler's dinner is raisins, frozen-yogurt and a cereal bar. After two failed attempts to redeem a Living Social deal for a Mexican restaurant, Mark and I were finally able to sit down for some chips, salsa and burritos. Well ... sort of. Miles had no interest in the chips except to say "chip" and pick them up, crumbling them in his hand and tossing them on the floor. (Yes, we were those people.) I made him a plate of foods I know he likes - guacamole, chicken, beans - but nothing held his interest. While it would have behooved us to go straight home, I had a $5 reward at Menchie's and I was going to be damned if Miles' bad behavior was going to ruin my dessert.

The best laid plans are just that: Plans. I had this great idea that Mark could attend a cycling class at the YMCA while I taught BODYPUMP, as Mark would be able to put Miles in the Y child care. However, Miles woke up at 6, went down for a nap at 7 and slept till 9. Right when the class started.

Sometimes you can't deny what God gives you, even if your body says otherwise. Saturday was a beautiful day - sunny and in the 50s - and the fact that it was mid-January made the day that much more of a gift. As Mark missed his cycling class, I thought we could squeeze in a run. Sure, my legs were toast from RAW and teaching BP but I couldn't let a day like that slip by. We ran 4 miles around the park and though they didn't feel so great, I was happy to see a 9:07 pace, perfect negative splits and two miles that began with an 8.

A haircut can make you feel like a new woman. In keeping with a New Year's promise to take care of myself, I tried a new to me, more affordable salon. The stylist was great - experienced, patient and an exercise enthusiast who is planning on getting her personal training certificate. We had a great chat about mountain climbers, and I have clean ends and refreshed layers.

You can go to the movies with your husband and not see the same movie. I'e been wanting to see "Silver Linings Playbook" since I read the book in early November but it didn't come to Fort Wayne until Christmas. And then there was other stuff to see, namely "Les Mis." When my in-laws requested to baby-sit (no joke), I pitched seeing a movie. One thing: Mark wanted to see "Zero Dark Thirty." As luck would have it, the movies start times were within 15 minutes and we were both happy to arrive together but see our own thing.

I always take big purses to the movies for one reason: Sneaking in my own snacks. For "Silver Linings Playbook," I took a mix of cashews, raisins, dried figs and chocolate-covered peanuts.

White bread tastes really, really good. I made a lemon basil chicken salad, and my stomach was set on a melt. The only problem was that I didn't have wheat bread thawed and didn't feel like spending 240 calories on the slices I had in the freezer. And so I had some of the white bread I keep on hand for Mark. Let me tell you, it was good. So good.

What's your truth?

Holly and jolly

The clock read 5:03 when I bounded out of bed Christmas morning. While my early-morning workouts were more than likely responsible for the inability to sleep, I would be lying to say I wasn't looking forward to Christmas a little more this year.

Miles is older and aware of who Santa, excitedly saying "Hanta" at the mere glimpse and occasionally following up with a "Ho, ho, hooo." I was sure he would be able to open presents and even more certain that he would like what was inside him. His visions of baby would no longer dance in a cellphone but realized once reunited with his cousin.

Though it became apparent that Santa's role escaped Miles and his favorite Christmas present was a MegaBlocks truck that my brother gave him ... last year ... I can say that this was my favorite holiday to date. Except for the year I got the pink corduroy overalls.

So indulge me as I share some of my favorite snapshots of the day. I hope your holidays were merry and bright.

Play date times two

I can be an incredibly flaky person. I hate to admit it but it's true.

It takes me days to listen to a voicemail and just as many to return the call. Non-pressing emails often require a week time time to garner a response. Birthday cards are often sent a month - or three - beyond the event. My flakiness is so bad that I once gave my grandma a year's worth of cards as to make sure I didn't go another year without marking her blessed birth. Seriously. I'll give you her number and you can call.

So it comes as no surprise that it took me more than a year to demand (re: politely request) a play date with Kim and Leo.

Kim lives in my corner, sort of, of Indiana. We've ran into each other here and there (including the Indianapolis Women's Half Marathon) but I've been antsy to get to hang out with her. And Miles always gets a kick out of watching videos of Leo, who is just a mere six weeks younger.

Through a bit of coordination, the two came over on Saturday for fun and lunch. There were balls throw, blocks shared and lots of attempts at hugs. Lord, my child. He must go to the most affectionate day care because poor Leo couldn't go five minutes without being accosted by a big embrace.

The two found common ground - literally - racing up and down the stairs. Leo and Miles chitted and chatted, in a conversation that I'm sure found a solution to the fiscal cliff and solved world peace. If you don't think those two are cute - you should have seen it by the seventh time. Hilarious!

Kim and I got in such a good workout that we needed to go shopping for activewear. OK, we would have gone shopping either way but sure is a good excuse. While the boys napped, she and I hit up Old Navy to check out their winter line of activewear courtesy of Crowdtap.

I have been a fan of Old Navy's workout attire for some time. I have a thin long-sleeve green tech shirt (with thumb holes!) that I got nearly three years ago to wear for a St. Patrick's Day race, and it is a regular in my fall/spring wardrobe. (You can see it in my race pics from my most recent 10K). I also got to try some Old Navy capris via Crowdtap last year, and I loved that they stretched with my pregnancy.

I can probably thank the holiday shoppers for the variety and selection of sizes. There were tons of tops - some padded tanks, which I love for teaching BODYPUMP, and a looser fit that would be great for yoga. There were fleece jackets, a perennial favorite at ON, and more running appropriate jackets made with moisture-wicking materials - complete with thumb holes.

I had briefly considered going with the jacket and a pair of long pants as I only have one pair of tights for running this winter. However, versatility won over and I went with capris and a tank that are perfect for teaching BODYPUMP, basement sessions of Turbo Fire and non-winter running. I loved the heathered purple color, which reminded me of Moving Comfort's urban gym capri that retails for nearly three times as much.

I will say that these items were marked compression, and Old Navy was not joking. I picked up smalls in both and felt like a piece of sausage stuffed inside a piece of penne. The items fit but did not flatter and more importantly, I didn't feel comfortable. It might have hurt my ego but I sized up in both. (For reference that blue jacket above was a size XS.)

Kim picked up the same capris in gray and the top on the mannequin above. Super cute. And totally appropriate because we have the same name.

Of course, there's no pictures of the two of us because we are awesome at shopping and not documenting visits. Just another reason for Play Date, the Sequel.

Have you ever purchased activewear from Old Navy? What are your thoughts?

Sick workout

In the spirit that I might one day be a fitness professional, I offer you this resistance workout:

Procure a 24-pound or heavier toddler, preferably sick and cranky, and carry said toddler everywhere you go. This includes holding him while you do activities that seemingly require two hands such as making your lunch, doing dishes and going to the bathroom. Repeat every day until the first day of kindergarten.

After a trip to urgent care and an epic 3-hour nap on Sunday, you would have never known he was sick. He terrorized the aisle of Target (had to get wipes for daycare) and entertained customers at Marshall's by telling them he found "Thomas" as I picked up a $5.99 resistance band for my Turbo Fire workouts. He smiled and laughed and had a good ole time.

And the came the night.

As the moon rose big in the sky, so did the terrible pangs of sickness. Fever. Thirst. Crankiness. We were up from 2 to 3:30 a.m., leaving us all a little bit worse for the wear come Monday morning.

I can make do with a cup (or three) of coffee but it seems the only thing that can help Miles is being close to his mama. I know there will be a day when I will miss it but lord have mercy on me, I was not up for the challenge yesterday. It wasn't just the whining or the inability to do things. No. It's the fact that he gets heavy after a while. I am constantly shifting him side to side to help even out the work, sometimes even holding him in front to use the strength of both my arms. It really is a mystery for the ages as to why I can't lift heavier weights for the bicep track during BODYPUMP.

Actually, that last part is a bit of a lie. I have been frustrated that I'm not seeing more gains in bicep weight/strength and did a little "research" as Mark would call it. According to some weight lifting forums, the biceps are a small muscle group (this I knew) and it takes a long time to see even small changes. You have to focus on the percentage of increase in relationship to the size of the muscle group. And that's your lesson of the day.

Of course, I don't think carrying a baby is a true strength workout. You have to work your muscles to fatigue, if not failure, to burn calories and build muscle whether it's high reps and low weights or high weights and fewer reps. However, one can't deny after a day with a sick child that lifting and holding is not work.

Physically and mentally.

Ho, ho, NO!

Cheese. Crackers. Choo choos.

I'm not sure there's anything Miles loves more in the world than those three things. I mean, besides me.

And while he gets regular doses of string cheese, graham crackers and episodes of "Thomas and Friends," Mark and I had a special outing for our little conductor. Complete with cheese and crackers.

By the glories of Google on Friday, I discovered that the Fort Wayne Railroad Historical Society invites families - as well as Santa and Mrs. Claus - for a ride on a vintage train, allowing them to "pay homage to a great Fort Wayne tradition and create brand new ones while visiting the home of the largest operating steam locomotive in the Midwest: Nickel Plate Road No. 765."

For $4 a person, families are treated to a 20-minute ride and a visit from Santa. There are also other activities - coloring, train sets and self-guided tours of the locomotives - on site though those weren't of much interest to an impatient 17-month-old.

Note: He did like the 25 cent train whistle, which I'm sure is a choking hazard but it kept him engaged as we waited in line. Go ahead, nominate me for mother of the year. While I was enamored with the overall experience, my only complaint was that you couldn't buy tickets for a particular ride. It was first-come, first-serve with rides about every 30 minutes. The setup works with older kids but makes it hard to manage younger toddlers.

I will say that we were lucky and managed to get on a train with an hour. It was a festive looking caboose, with wrapping paper on the walls and candy canes awaiting the child. Self-important as I am, I tried to sit in Santa's seat rather than the benches.

Miles thoroughly enjoyed riding on the choo-choo and looking out at the fields of rural Indiana as we went down the tracks. He (safely) stood on the bench, peering out the small window saying, "choo choo. CHOO CHOO!" When we reached the turnaround, the train stopped and the car readied for a special visitor.

Santa! (Or, as Miles says, "Hhahnta!")

The jolly old fellow made the rounds, shaking the hands of excited, eager children and Mrs. Claus passed out candy canes. He took a spot in my, I mean his, seat and began to entertain the wishes of the youngins. I should have paid attention to what kids these days want but I was trying to amp up Miles for his visit, whispering in his ear that he should ask for Nike Pro Hyperwarm print training tights in a size small. Matching half-zip, too.

When it was finally his turn, Miles let out one more "Hhantaa" before turning into a screaming mess.

I was slightly embarrassed and felt sort of bad for the kind gentleman underneath the beard but I happily snapped pictures. I might be a terrible person to say this but I love, love, love photos of kids crying on Santa's lap. Actually, I think photos of crying babies are, in general, quite cute.

I do fear that Miles' general disdain for Santa will not bode well for the Nike tights but his enthusiasm for the train and Santa (he seriously won't stop saying the word) means we might have ourselves an affordable Christmas tradition.

And next year, if he doesn't cry, I'm pinching his butt.