I ran a 5K but don't ask me how I did

On July 3rd I ran a local race.  It's normally held on the 4th, but since the 4th was on a Sunday this year they had the race the day before.  We (thankfully) had a little break in the weather so it wasn't as dreadfully hot as normal. 
This race was a 5K.  I don't generally like 5Ks, as I'm not a speedy person, but they do serve for an excellent speed workout.  This was my first 5K since the twins so I didn't expect much from it.
The race went well enough.  I tried to keep my friend Trina in sight, as she was just ahead of me, but I lost her after the first mile.  I got to scope out a few yard sales along the route.
My ob/gyn, who is a runner (why else would I have picked him? ;-)) passed me around the halfway point.  He had been running with his kids.  He has 10 of them!

I'm in the white tank w/ purple shorts.

At the start of mile 2 I had to see two different teenagers puking.  I tried to shield my eyes.  I am the world's biggest puke wuss and I hate to see/hear/smell/think about it. 
I stayed pretty consistent throughout I think.  I hit mile 1 at 8:10, mile 2 at 16:50 and mile 3 at ????  What?  I don't know my time?
Nope.  No clue.  See, I don't wear a watch to run.  I get picked on a lot because of this, but I don't want to be constantly worrying about it.  I run by 'feel'.  That's good enough for me.  But I do like to know my time at the end of the race.  I can say with assurance that I was faster than my personal 5K worst (29:11) and slower than my personal best (23:00).  I was somewhere in the 25 minute time zone.
But what about the time clock?  Nope, no time clock at this race.  And there was a guy doing the timing as I crossed the finish, but he wasn't yelling out the time for me.
But what about the online results?  Right.  Well, that's where I expected to find out my time.  So I started checking the results online the next day.  Nothing.  Nothing the day after that.  Or the day after that.  Finally, a week later, I found some results.  They said MEN'S RESULTS.  But where were the women's results?  Ah yes, a little footnote said, "Women's results coming soon".  Um, is putting race results in a pdf file rocket science?  I mean, I don't know, I've never tried it, but it must be very, very technical, huh?

Why Life with a 3 Year Old Can Drive You Crazy

This week we decided to head to Amazement Square with grandmother Cat Cat.  A day trip for us.  Drives with Pierce are currently an issue, because inevitably he wants 5 million things in his carseat, then drops them all on the floor and freaks out.  On this trip, my charming, albeit devious, child learned that if he drops something he can circumnavigate my typical response of "You'll just have to wait until we get there" by dramatically and emphatically screeching "I HAVE TO GO POTTY!!!!"

We made it in one piece to Amazement Square and I am now wise to Pierce's potty tricks.  No matter how dire he makes the situation appear.

The very first thing we discovered in the museum was this tractor in the 'barn' section.

Pierce is always waiting, waiting, waiting for Daddy to finish mowing our epic-huge yard.  So he was psyched to get to mow himself and did.not.want.to.share with other kids.

The museum is 4 stories tall, so my mother and I finally managed to drag him away to go see what else there was to see.  And there was a lot.  Boats and roller coaster ball drops:

To which Pierce said, "I want to go mow".

Cort and Reid relaxed in the stroller.  They didn't say "We want to go mow".  Instead, they watched the drama unfold, and secretly wished I'd roll them past the clear elevator box again, which they loved observe.

We milked a cow and excavated for archaelogical finds.

And Pierce said, "I want to go MOW!"

We played doctor and used our heartbeats to make the drum go BOOM BOOM.

And Pierce said, "I WANT TO GO MOW!"

Hey Pierce!  Look!  You can go in this room and PAINT THE WALLS!!!

"I WANT TO GO MOW!"

Look Pierce!  You can float boats down this river! 

"I WANT TO GO MOW!"

But wait!  A zip line!  You know you want to do the zip line.  It's just like Diego!

"BUT I WANT TO GO MOW!"

My response?

Pierce, you sound just like your father.

His response?

"It's not time to go home yet.  I have to mow"

Memory Lane Friday - A Game

Memory Lane Friday is a weekly blog carnival to preserve your memories for your family.  Each week has a different topic, but you are welcome to write about any memory you'd like and link in.  This week's theme is "A Game".  Any type of game.  Board games, football games, Atari games, kick the can - you name it!

The game I remember we just called 'the coffeepot game'.

I think we got this game from a book of car games that we had for long road trips (we had a little RV).  The game is simple.  One person picks a word and the others try to guess what the word is, by substituting the word 'coffeepot'.  So say the player is thinking of the word 'skiing'.  The conversation might go like this:

"Can you coffeepot at night?"

"You can coffeepot at night, but it's not typical"

"Can you coffeepot in the house?"

"If you coffeepot in the house you might get in trouble"

"Can you coffeepot outside?"

"Yes"

"Can you coffeepot in the summer?"

"It depends on the type of coffeepotting you're doing"

Now I don't know what it was, but this game was always full of laughs and we never seemed to get sick of it.  It certainly made the drive go by faster!

Participating in Memory Lane Friday is easy.  Just grab the code beneath the button and copy/paste it into your blog post.  Then come back and add your link to Mister Linky. 

<a href="http://twobearsfarm.blogspot.com"><img src="http://i291.photobucket.com/albums/ll311/varunner7/button_edited-3-1.jpg" /></a>

Don't forget to share the love and go leave comments on others' blogs!  See you next week I hope for the topic of "A Tourist Trap".

Muffin Tin Monday - The Blog Swap Edition

I've been participating in Muffin Tin Monday for a while now.  One thing I really like about it that is challenges me to be creative.  The other thing I really like about it is that it involves food (DUH!)

So when MUFFIN TIN MOM announced that she was hosting a blog swap involving all things muffin-tinnish, I was excited to hop in.

My swap partner was care-in at SWEET BROWN SUGARS.

I got my package on Tuesday.

I'm particularly excited to try the decorative picks, as we didn't have any.

Oh, and since the twins already devote a large part of their day trying to eat Scooter's food (our border collie), I'm thinking this dog bone shaped cookie cutter will be useful for them.  Thanks, care-in!

Why Did the Chickens Cross the Driveway?

To check out our 3 year old, obviously!

It really amazes me how curious our chickens are.  They will follow Pierce to the moon.

Especially Foghorn and Leghorn.

They just love them some 3 year old boy.  They must like drama.  Or maybe it's the tie-dye.  After all, who can resist a good tie-dye?

And let's not forget Priscilla.  She's the one who keeps jumping in our car.  And look at her.  Just biding her time for a wagon ride....

Our chickens have been so much fun so far. 

Maybe one day they'll even lay eggs (sigh).

That's so Un-Fair!

For July 4th we decided to head to the fair.  We got everyone sunscreened up, topped off bellies, and headed out.  Thirty minutes into the drive Paul said, "Where is the Salem Fair, anyhow".  My answer?  "In Salem".  This resulted in several phone calls to friends to find out it was at the Salem Civic Center, where we had figured it would be all along.

Paul and I decided to do a walk through first, see the sights and take Pierce on a few rides, before going to see the really good stuff - all the animal exhibits, quilting shows, and blue ribbon pies that are the meat of any good country fair.

Pierce first requested to ride this helicopter because why?  Because Diego rides in a helicopter, of course.  Prices at the fair are steep these days.  $4 per person to ride this thing.  I remember when I was a teen we'd go to the fair for the night and $20 would cover all my rides plus a funnel cake.  Not anymore!

After that was a little train followed by the Super Slide.

Then on to the bulldozer train:

And last but not least, a little rollercoaster with mom.  We were surprised he picked this out.

After 3 trips around, the coaster pulled to a stop and Pierce practically leaped out, exclaiming, "I'M ALL DONE!"

So, rides out of the way, it was now over 90* and scorching hot, and we were ready to go see some exhibits.  We entered the Civic Center and saw rows of more propaghanda than exhibits.  Need to buy a new mattress?  You will now be pleased to know one can be purchased at the fair.  How about a new cell phone?  Sunglasses?  Want to find God?  Yes, folks, you can do all this and more at the fair this year.

But wait. 

Where were the rows of prized cows? 

The scrubbed pink piglets?

The jars of zesty pickles and canned onions?

Elvis's funky-feathered chicken cousins?

Where were the crocheted doilies, and best in show crazy quilts?

Sadly, they were not to be found.

Indeed, our entire raison d'etre at the fair was a huge let down.

Mattresses, not maple syrup, was all we could  find.

All I can say is....

That's so Un-Fair!

Muffin Tin Monday - Mommy Had a Craving

It's Muffin Tin Monday again.  Pierce had skewers of olives, fake crabmeat, and string cheese, a banana on a stick, and homemade mashed garlic potatoes.  I had a craving for those mashed pototoes.  With the skin left on red potatoes.  Are you a skin on or skin off potato-fan?  These sure hit the spot!  Pierce devoured every last bite except the mashed potatoes.  Go figure.  Oh well, more for Mommy.

Want to participate in Muffin Tin Monday? 


Now let's talk about my chickens for a minute.  I'm thinking all ten of them came from bad eggs.  You know, the type of devious, no good, low-laying sons of chicks that you don't want in your neighborhood.  See, they should be laying by now.  Particularly Horace.  But oh no.  Either they're hiding the eggs or they're holding out. 
Have you ever heard those stories of criminals in jail that stuff contraband so far up their you-know-whats that the guards can't find it during a search?  Criminals that can be subjected to 14 doses of laxatives and STILL won't let that contraband out?  Well, I'm thinking our chickens could give those criminals a run for their money.  Because they sure aren't giving up the eggs.  Maybe this week will be the big week?