Eight Exciting Things: Number 4

Some of My Parents Visit

Now, the thing you need to know about me, if you don't already, is that I have multiple sets of parents.  I have my mom and stepdad in one grouping, and my dad and stepmom in another.  I like them all, and I'm not just saying that because I'm on the Internet.  I really, legitimately like them (and love them too, of course). 

The most recent set of my parents to visit was my dad and stepmom, earlier this month. 

We picked them up at the airport just hours after we bought the Fabulous New Car, so the vehicle was a surprise to them. 

The next day, we went to just about the best restaurant ever, the Tree House Cafe in Michigan City, Indiana.  No, I don't work for them, but I do want to tell you why the Tree House Cafe is awesome:

They have a giant sand pit for kids to play in while the adults eat. 

Here's a picture of my stepmom with Nathan in the sand pit:

Shot from this angle, you can see the wooden "pirate ship" kids can climb on.  (I use quotes because it's a rather abstract representation.) 

The sand pit is huge.  They have beanbags, a volleyball court, every ball imaginable, soccer goals, and sand toys. 

Meanwhile, here's my dad back at the table:

Here's Bill:

The food was very good.  Very casual, plastic cups and whatnot, and not too heavy.  You know, the kind of stuff you'd want to eat on the beach. 

The next day of my parents' visit, back in Illinois, we mostly just chilled and attended a small art fair in our hometown.  The highlight of the day was when we went to Nathan's t-ball practice and my dad took this awesome photo:

The next day of their visit was Saturday, and we headed up to Naperville for the triathlon.  But that's a story for a different post ...

Eight Exciting Things: Number 3

A Fabulous New Car!

Next week, Bill and I will celebrate eight years of marriage.  In that time, we have moved across the country together and lived together in two houses, one rented and one bought.  We've had a child together, and purchased a few big-ticket items together along the way. 

But, up until recently, we had never purchased a car together.  Bill's been driving the same truck since before I met him, and this was the last time I bought a new car:

 June 30, 2000: I was 22 and two weeks out of college.  I'm smiling because that whole Y2K thing didn't pan out, and the TSA hadn't been created yet.  And yes, I was thinner, but I made up for it in the weight of my eyebrows.  

 "Let me tell you about the features of your new Toyota Corolla.  Also, nice overalls."  

That Corolla has served us well.  We drove it home from our wedding, with Bill in the passenger seat saying, Wow, Shannon, you're my wife now.  Shortly thereafter we drove it across the country with our cat, to our new home in Chicago.  We then drove all around Chicagoland finding a place to rent.  Later we drove newborn Nathan home from the hospital in it, and then we drove it to and from the closing on our new house.  I think it's safe to say the Corolla has been a big part of the important events in the past 12 years of our lives.  

But, the Corolla was getting old, experiencing some irritating cosmetic problems (e.g., the key no longer opens the passenger's side door or the trunk; the gas doesn't open when you pull the lever, requiring you to pry it open with a small garden shovel).  And it mostly still ran well--at least, after a $700 repair--but it was starting to feel a little gutless.  And it was too small to haul anything.  

Bill's truck is great for hauling, of course, but it doesn't even reliably start anymore.  

It was time for a new car.  

Now, as I said, this was my first time buying a car with Bill.  Turns out we have very different approaches to buying a car.  Such as:

My Approach: Check car ratings in Consumer Reports.  Decide which of the top-rated cars I like.  Go online to see how much it costs.  Purchase car.  

Bill's Approach: Decide car will be purchased someday (an ill-defined, nebulous someday), but that an exhausting amount of research must be done before selecting car.  Since the thousands of options and combinations available make comparisons among cars incredibly challenging, and in many cases they are apples-to-oranges comparisons anyway, Bill's standards for car research ensure that we will never have to commit to a new car, which I suspect was his goal anyway. 

Additionally, Bill suggested we get a couple of other financial affairs in order.  I took care of those, and I cleaned out the garage to make space for a new car.  And once I did those things, I became sort of a major bitch about the whole car thing.  "Let's get a new car NOW," I said approximately a thousand times in the space of three days. 

Bill waffled on makes and models.  I had a few opinions of my own, of course, but Bill wore me down to the point that I was basically saying, "Just pick a make and model that you like, and I'll be happy as long as it's newer and bigger than our existing car."  

Eventually we decided on the Subaru Outback, and I decided it was time to take matters into my own hands from there on out.  

Now, I absolutely hate sales situations.  Despite the fact that my grandfather sold cars his entire career, I am a terrible salesperson.  I even hated it in high school when I had to work a concession stand as part of a school fundraiser, and I'd have to yell things like, "Hot dogs!  Get your hot dogs here!"  

Bottom line, I don't like selling things, and I don't like being sold things.  I find sales-based activities to be very awkward interpersonal situations.  

Fortunately my friend Tabitha had just bought a car a few weeks before, and she informed me that she was able to negotiate the entire purchase via email.  In writing?  That's something I feel comfortable with.  That's why I always say I would have been more popular in high school if texting had been invented back then.  (Well, and if I had spent less time selling hot dogs.)  

I had hoped to do a little online research about how much the car would cost at particular local dealerships, but the Subaru people knew my game and insisted I provide them with my contact information before giving me a quote.  Figuring I was free to delete their emails or not answer the phone, I gave out my information.  I immediately received emails and calls from two dealerships, which I will call Dealership A and Dealership B.  

Simultaneously, I gave out my information to the Costco auto-buying program, which had the very attractive benefits of giving us the haggle-free fleet price on the vehicle (whatever that is), as well as giving us a $500 Costco card for completing a sale through their program.  Costco put us in touch with Dealership C, which I figured would be the winner.  I felt bad for Dealerships A and B, because it didn't seem like they had a chance.

But I fired off an email to all three dealerships, specifying exactly what I wanted in a car. Costco Dealership C guy wrote back a curt and dickish sounding reply about how you couldn't get those features all together.  Dealerships A and B sent back links to their websites.  In general, it was hard to get anybody to give an actual dollar figure.  Eventually, after a lot of taunting, the guy from Costco Dealership C sent back a short reply with just a dollar figure.  No, Would you like to come in and test-drive the car? or What can I do to earn your business?  Yes, his price was the best, but I didn't like his annoying Take it or leave it attitude. 

In contrast, the guy from Dealership B was really friendly and attentive, answering all my questions.  I liked him, and I wanted to buy from him.  But I knew that the bottom-line figure was going to be the driving force behind where we ultimately purchased a car.  

So, I made use of what I consider to be my only God-given skill in the world, writing.  I sat down and wrote out my feelings in an email to the nice guy from Dealership B.  I explained that I really wanted to give him some business because he was so nice, but that we would have to go with the Costco-based dealer if he could give a lower price.  

Immediately the nice guy from Dealership B called me back.  He thanked me for my compliments and said that his dealership works with Costco, too, and that they could give us an even cheaper price than Dealership C, which we were apparently referred to based solely on geography.  And we could get the $500 Costco card through Dealership B, no problem.  

SOLD.  

Lesson learned: It always pays to be nice.  

(Meanwhile the guy from Dealership C kind of just gave up on replying to my emails, and the people from Dealership A sent some sort of half-assed reply a week later.  I really think car dealerships need to get with the times and deal more with electronic communications, but maybe I'm one of the few antisocial people who prefer email to face-to-face conversation when it comes to sales situations.) 

Let me emphasize that I pretty much negotiated this whole awesome deal.  I was pretty proud of myself for that, especially because Bill actually used to sell cars, too.  

Of course, we hadn't signed on the dotted line yet, and I knew any small glitch could be a dealbreaker for my excessively-picky husband.  For example, he already told me we wouldn't be driving away in a new car if the dealership affixed some sort of permanent logo to the back.  So I was nervous.  

But, after the test-drive, and the paperwork, and the refusal of the extended warranty ... we had a car!  One without a permanent dealership logo affixed to the rear! 

This time the "closing the sale" picture features Bill, but let me assure you that I was dressed in what I think was a lot nicer than overalls and athletic shoes.  

Here it is!  I love it! Note that I had the dealership add an after-market bike rack, which has already come in handy.  

So, if you need me, I'll be driving around in my new car, basking in the glory of my stellar negotiation skills and getting intoxicated on that new-car smell. 

Eight Exciting Things: Number 2

The Color Run

Allow me to begin, as I so often do, with a Seinfeld reference.   In the Season 6 episode "The Race," Jerry shares a personal mantra that I so often want to use as my own:

"I choose not to run!"

See, I've just never been a natural runner.  But when Katie (a.k.a. G-Money), who is a runner, brought up the idea of participating in a 5K called The Color Run, it just seemed too unique an experience to pass up.

The basic premise of The Color Run is that, at each kilometer, you get sprayed with a powdered, cornstarch-based color, so that you are colorfully filthy by the end.  The same coloring substance is used at a Hindu religious festival, so I guess the Color Run is sort of the secular, athletic version of that.

You were encouraged to wear white, to maximize your colorfulness after the race.  Here's our team before the event:

L to R: Me, Katie's friend Catherine (called "Cabby"), Katie, and Katie's high school friend Heather

Now, although this was not a serious athletic event, I knew my performance in this 5K would have the ability to boost or wreck my confidence when it came to my upcoming triathlon.  So I tried my darndest to run as much as possible, as opposed to walking.  I ran about the first half, during which we were sprayed with blue and then green.  It helped to have other people there pushing me to keep going.  But then I had to walk a little, so I told everybody else to go ahead without me.  

I had gotten to the point in my training where I could recover pretty quickly with a brief walk, though, so I started up running again right after we got sprayed with orange.  I off-and-on ran between orange and yellow.  The yellow sprayers were particularly generous with the color.  

Then, before I knew it, I was done.  It felt so much easier than I thought it would!  That's because it was: It turned out that, according to a teammate's pedometer, the entire "5K" was only 2.3 miles, as opposed to the approximately 3.1 miles that a 5K is supposed to be.  Some people were actually complaining, as though a shortened run was a bad thing.  

Here's a photo of the team, post-run:

We were a little more colorful, but the true color mayhem came at the end, when everybody was instructed to throw a bag of color up in the air to create a "color cloud."

That picture is taken from afar.  Inside the color cloud, it is pretty crazy.  The cloud completely blocks out the sun.  You are totally filthy afterwards:

A guy with a leaf blower blows off some of your color, and then a shower gets some of it.  It took about two showers and a swim in the pool for all of my color to come off.  I bleached my clothes, but they're still a little streaked.  They're kind of a fun souvenir. 

As predicted, the Color Run ended up being a unique experience.  However, it ranked kind of poorly on what my stepdad calls the Fun-to-Hassle Ratio.  The hassles consumed about 24 hours of my life: Trekking way up to the north side of the city in an inconvenient area to pick up the packet the day before, getting up at the crack of dawn, an hour of train/walking each way to get to and from G-Money's house, another hour of looking like a complete crazy person on the train back to the suburbs, some serious clean-up efforts for myself and my clothing, and then a two-hour nap to compensate for having to get up at the crack of dawn.  All that for about an hour-long running/walking/color-throwing experience. 

BUT, I reflected on the fact that it was a much more exciting thing to do with one's time than sit around on the couch all morning.  And so sometimes you have to put in the hassle to have the fun.  Because someday there will be a time when I'm so old that the most exciting exercise effort I'll be capable of making is a walk around the block.  And when I'm taking that walk, it will be nice to reflect back on the wacky day when I ran around Chicago getting a bunch of color sprayed at me. 

Eight Exciting Things: Number 1

I've gotten so behind on my blogging lately.  I have a list of 8 exciting events I'd like to share on the blog, so I decided to just make it a series. 

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Preschool Graduation

I've always thought preschool graduation was a little bit silly.  First of all, it's not as though it requires a great deal of work to finish preschool, so it doesn't really seem necessary to acknowledge a preschooler's accomplishments with a graduation.  Second, the term graduation implies that one's education is completed, whereas I think most of us would say that one's education begins at kindergarten, as in, after preschool.

On the other hand, when we think of graduation's other name, commencement, there is an implication of new beginnings.  And I knew that Nathan in particular needed a very serious, formal acknowledgement of the new beginnings he is going to face in the fall. 

See, preschool wasn't an altogether awesome experience for our family.  The entire two years was a series of limit-testing and correcting, of daily struggles with I don't want to go to school, and of the negative environment created by fellow parents bitter about staff changes.

We needed a ceremony to acknowledge that we had all made it through, and that it was time to focus on the transition to the beginning of formal education in the fall.

And so the day before Memorial Day weekend, we dressed Nathan in his $20 J.C. Penney suit and watched him process with his classmates wearing paper mortarboards as Pomp & Circumstance played in the background. 


The first part of the ceremony consisted of the kids singing a few of the songs they'd learned at school.  There was a song about bubble gum, a song about dinosaurs, the Days of the Week song, and the planet song.  Then they sang "Kindergarten Here We Come!" which was set to the tune of "Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes."  It was a silly little diddy, but one line still got me all emotional:

[Sung to the part of the song starting with eyes and ears and mouth and nose]:

"Bye, bye preschool, it's been lots of fun!

Kindergarten here we come!"

Next the kids got their "diplomas."  The teacher said something nice about each kid, and told us what the kid wanted to be when he/she grows up.  Here's Nathan's:



I love how she says he has some "great one-liners."  I seriously could not be prouder.  That's my boy!

As the grand finale of the ceremony, the kids sang "What a Wonderful World."  Now, at that point I was already sobbing my brains out.  Muh bay-bee!  Already going to kindergarten!  And, as though that reminder of the passage of time wasn't painful enough, "What a Wonderful World" was the song Bill and I first danced to at our wedding.  I mean, come on.  During the entire song I had a slideshow of our greatest moments playing in my head: The wedding dance, bringing Nathan home from the hospital, the first day of preschool, and so on.  Clearly the gravity of the situation wasn't lost on Nathan, as evidenced by his ridiculous wiggling, which was obviously a manifestation of his tension, and not of the fact that he is a goofy five-year-old:



After the ceremony we took a million pictures of course.  Here he is with me:

Dancing, I guess?

And with Bill:

There was a cake:

Back at home, I had Nathan pose with his two Poohs, who of course had graduation hats as well:

Oh, and of course this happened:

In the end, I guess I came to understand the purpose of preschool graduation.  The concept of preschool graduation had previously seemed pointless to me because this concept was based on my own personal experiences with graduation.  I saw my graduations as largely a time to celebrate hard work and accomplishments, and to get decorated with medals and ropes to acknowledge those accomplishments.  They were the culminations of school experiences which, in all honestly, were a nonstop stream of showing off my accomplishments, so much so that until Nathan started preschool, I kind of thought that the secondary purpose of education (after learning) was to demonstrate how awesome you are. 

But when Nathan started preschool, I learned that sometimes the purpose of school (again, besides learning), is to identify weaknesses and correct accordingly.  And so preschool was a series of identifying and correcting, and graduation was a celebration of improvement.  It also served as a formal marker of transition and new beginnings.  We all need a new beginning once in awhile.  

And so, we commence. 

You Deserve a Break Today: Learning About McDonald's Healthful Options

I intentionally chose an outdated McDonald's slogan as the title of this post, because my love for McDonald's goes way back to the You Deserve a Break days.  I ate Happy Meals in the Mac Tonight era, tried to learn the McDLT song in the late 80's (with the help of a record that came in my local newspaper), and dipped my fries in chocolate shakes after high school swim meets in the 90's Food, Folks, and Fun days.  Now in the 21st century I'm Lovin' It era, McDonald's is a weekly stop for Nathan and me because of its Happy Meals and its fun indoor play area.

So I was excited when the McDonald's Owners of Chicagoland and Northwest Indiana invited me to a Moms Nutrition Workshop at the famous Rock 'n Roll McDonald's in downtown Chicago.

After making the rainy trek downtown with my little fellow McDonald's lover, we were ushered into an upstairs lounge with tables and booths.  Naturally, I had to take note of the pretty floral centerpieces:

We were given a menu of McDonald's more nutritious items, and we were allowed to check off anything we wanted to have for lunch, for free.  Naturally, because it was free, I ordered two entrees.  The Honey Mustard Snack Wrap:

And the Southwest Chicken Salad, which I ate most of before remembering to take a picture:

Plus I got a Fruit 'n Yogurt Parfait for dessert:

Nathan got a Chicken McNuggets Happy Meal.

Once we were chomping away, the presentation got underway.  The speaker was Sylvia Melendez-Klinger, MS, RD, LDN, CPT--which is to say she was a nutrition expert.

Now, let me pause and say that this was a tough gig for McDonald's.  They know they have a bad reputation when it comes to nutrition and food safety practices, and mom bloggers are a notoriously skeptical bunch.  Not only are we typically educated and middle-class, but we tend to skew toward the liberal and the crunchy--exactly the kind of people who are wary of giant international conglomerates pushing cheap fast food at our children.  Additionally, I think we all feel a bit uneasy about the idea of becoming corporate shills in exchange for freebies, and we always have our eagle eyes and ears peeled to see through any corporate BS and pounce on it.  Even among those of us who agreed to go to this seminar--a self-selected group that naturally weeded out the most ardent McDonald's haters--there's a certain level of shame and guilt associated with taking our kids to McDonald's.  Admitting to eating under the Golden Arches isn't tantamount to child abuse, but it's certainly something we admit to with a little shrug of What are you gonna do?  I'm not perfect.  Admitting to eating at McDonald's falls somewhere along the lines of admitting to using TV as a babysitter or swearing in front of children.

So, I went in prepared to hear McDonald's out, but not exactly prepared to have my mind changed about the healthfulness of a visit to McDonald's.

But, these people hit it out of the park.  And I don't offer that kind of praise very often.

For one thing, I was surprised to find out about the many, many nutritional choices McDonald's offers.  I mean, yes, I had technically seen all those items on the menu, but I guess I still went in with the attitude that there was like one unappealing choice (salad) if you wanted to eat healthfully at McDonald's, and even that was just a CYA move on the part of McDonald's to get the critics and lawsuits off their backs.

But, it turns out there are a lot of healthful options at McDonald's, and, even more surprisingly, they actually taste good.
 
For breakfast, you could have:

• Egg McMuffin: 300 calories
• Fruit 'N Yogurt Parfait: 160 calories with granola/130 calories without granola (and really good!)
• Fruit 'N Maple Oatmeal: 290 calories with brown sugar/260 calories without brown sugar
• Fruit 'N Walnut Salad: 210 calories  

And THEN they brought out their newest breakfast delight, the Blueberry Banana Nut Oatmeal.  I knew McDonald's had oatmeal, but I was never all that jazzed to try it.  Let's face it, McDonald's does not have a reputation for doing anything fresh very well.  I think we all kind of imagine wilted, rotten produce being slapped on or shot through some kind of device, with the fresh and crispy produce being reserved for the products photographed in the McDonald's ads.  But we all got samples of the oatmeal, and I was pleasantly surprised by the plumpness and juiciness of the berries:

And, you guys, I am not at all exaggerating when I say that the Blueberry Banana Oatmeal (I didn't have the nuts because I don't like nuts) was the most delicious thing I ate at that whole event.  Now, I eat oatmeal for breakfast approximately 5 days a week, and oatmeal feels like an extremely boring chore.  This oatmeal, though?  Was so good.  The banana flavoring was delicious, and at 280 calories per serving (that's with the nuts--I don't have the data on nut-free), I might order it as my entree from here on out at McDonald's.  (As you probably know from the commercials, they serve the oatmeal all day.)  I am being completely honest when I say that I walked out of there craving another serving of the oatmeal, and even now, a day later, I'm still craving it.

Also, you can get the blueberries a la carte, in this cute packaging:

 They also have a Blueberry Yogurt Crunch, although I didn't try it. 

The healthful lunch and dinner options also go beyond just a salad:

• Premium Grilled Chicken Classic Sandwich: 350 calories
• Snack Wraps w/ grilled chicken: 250-270 calories (and I liked how they felt a little bit junky and fast-foodish)
• Cheeseburger: 300 calories
• Premium Salads w/grilled chicken: 190-290 calories (and the Southwest one has chips in it!)
• 6-piece Chicken McNuggets: 280 calories (and I like having a good warm option for those winter days when a salad just doesn't sound appealing)

So, as it turns out, the list of healthful options goes way beyond salads.  And choice is good.  I find it very annoying when I'm dieting and I feel like I'm stuck with only one option on the menu.

Also, McDonald's would like you to know that they want to make your food the way you want it, whether that be substituting sugar-free nuts for the sugar-coated nuts, or giving you food without added salt.  Here are some tips for less-sodium options and some tips on how to cut back on fat when you're eating at McDonald's.  The speakers at the event told us that McDonald's is committed to making your food specific to your liking (which, let's face it, has not been their reputation in the past), and that if an employee seems at all reluctant to customize your order, you should complain to higher-ups. 

Now, let's talk about the choices for kids.  I have to say, I have been truly impressed with the changes to the Happy Meal.  The fact that children are required to get a small package of apples (along with a tiny little container of fries) in the Happy Meal means that all parents, regardless of income, can treat their children to a more healthful meal out at an affordable price.  Because it's easy for us middle-class educated parents to find healthful options at fancier places, but in some areas McDonald's is the only place in town, and why shouldn't parents treat their kids to a meal out there once in awhile?  Also, even as a middle-class, educated parent, I appreciate that the apples are mandatory, making for one less battle I have to fight with my kid.

Nathan appreciated that he got two Happy Meal toys, declaring it "the best McDonald's ever" because our local establishments only give you one toy.  Of course, this had nothing to do with the fact that we were on a special VIP tour.

Speaking of the tour, after the presentation it was time for us to tour the McDonald's kitchen and food storage areas.  Our docent was Dean Przybyszewski, a McDonald's Field Service Consultant, which means he's the guy who goes around and checks the restaurants for compliance with food safety standards.

Here's Dean showing us the daily Food Safety Log that outlines the safety procedures:

Next we went down to the basement to see the storage and refrigerator/freezer areas.  Here's Nathan at the Bun Area:

This is Dean holding up a container of fresh, sliced tomatoes, to illustrate that McDonald's food actually does contain fresh produce:

Dean said that his main pet peeve in the criticism of McDonald's food is when people think McDonald's breakfast items are made from powdered eggs.  So he held up this egg to show us that the restaurant uses dozens and dozens of cartons of real eggs in their breakfasts:

Those are for the Egg McMuffin.  I did note that the scrambled egg sandwiches start like this:

Which is not to say that these scrambled eggs are bad, or unsafe, or gross.  I'm just saying that if you like to know that your food was a real grocery item fairly recently, you might want to stick with the McMuffin.  But, you know, McDonald's was very open about how the food is stored and prepared, so you can make informed choices about what you eat.  Nothing about this event was sneaky or an attempt to pull the wool over our eyes. 

Here's Nathan in the paper goods storage area:

And here's one giant refrigerator that contained, among other things, the Cinnamon Melts:

Another freezer contained boxes and boxes of frozen McNuggets.  Despite the fact that the nuggets are Nathan's favorite food at the restaurant, he is making a grumpy face here.  I guess because it was cold in there (26 degrees):

Dean and some McNuggets:

Eerie shot of the frostiness of the freezer:

(Also I learned that the freezer has a handle that allows it to be opened from the inside, so you can't get stuck in there, Three's Company-style.)  

Back upstairs, we visited the salad assembly area.  Dean noted that the salads are assembled throughout the day, so you aren't getting some old, wilted salad that was assembled hours earlier:

Here's Dean modeling the new salt shaker that ensures a uniform application of salt on your fries:

After the tour, we all got gift bags containing: a McDonald's beach towel, an apron that advertises the Blueberry Banana Nut Oatmeal, two free Happy Meal vouchers, a $5 gift card, a pedometer, a water bottle, and a stopwatch.  The bag itself was nice and had a zippered top.  We also got a lot of BOGO coupons for the healthful menu options.  (BTW email me if you want any, because I have more than I can use before they expire, even at the frequent rate with which I visit McDonald's.)

I left this event feeling truly positive about McDonald's.  I went in skeptical that my attitude might be changed regarding this huge conglomerate and its ability to provide healthful choices that anybody would actually want to eat.  But the McDonald's representatives truly impressed me.  As I said, I was a McDonald's customer before, but I always admitted to it with a hint of shame and guilt.  Now, when I say I take my family to McDonald's, and I will say it with pride. 

Shades of Gray (but not 50 shades)

So often I find myself having thoughts along the lines of the following:

• What's the point of even trying to eat right today, when I'll maybe lose half a pound this week and it won't make a difference in the grand scheme of the giant amount of weight I have to lose? 
• Why participate in that 5K when I'm going to have to walk part of it?
• If I didn't knock myself out with a workout, it didn't really count as exercising. 
• I feel useless because the amount of money I make is completely insignificant in terms of our overall household income and expenditures. 
• Why bother cleaning any part of my house (slash car slash garage) when there's so much mess that it won't make a difference?

Put simply, I always see things as black or white, all or nothing.  It's hard for me to see shades of gray.

The attitudes I should take are more like:

•  Every little bit of weight loss helps in terms of your health and overall appearance.  Even if you aren't at your goal weight, people might start saying things like, Wow, you've lost weight, or your clothes might feel looser.  (The clothes thing is a big problem for me.  Even in my most successful weight-loss endeavors, I've never lost enough weight to necessitate a whole new wardrobe.  It's always more like, Oh, now I really wear a size 14, instead of before where I was cramming myself into too-tight jeans to pretend I wore a size 14.)  Also, you kind of have to lose half a pound (or a pound, or 2 pounds) at a time in order to achieve any sort of cumulative weight-loss total.  I think this attitude is probably easiest to change because you can make use of visual aids: As in, Oh look, there's a 5-pound barbell.  I used to be carrying that barbell on my body all the time, and now I'm not.  
• Why not participate in a 5K where you mix running and walking?  Are running and walking not both exercise?  And an organized race pushes you more than running around the park by yourself.  Also: fun.  Also: free t-shirt.  
• Any workout you do is better than sitting on your couch eating Cheetos.  I struggle with this concept tremendously, again when it comes to the issue that I'm not able to run very long without walking.  The triathlon training book outlined a schedule where the baseline time you were supposed to be able to run from the get-go was 15 minutes, and that was after a 45-minute bike ride.  I still can't run 15 minutes.  Half the time I'm walking the entire 15 minutes after a bike ride.  I feel terrible about myself.  But the reality is that I have gotten to a point where I need less recovery time walking between running intervals, which is a shades of gray sort of improvement that was not what I expected, and I still get all hung up on the issue that it's all or nothing and why can't I run the whole time?  Except, aren't intervals in exercise a good thing?  And isn't walking still exercise?  And also, shut up, Self.  
• While it's true that the $50 I earned writing a blog post is just a drop in the bucket in terms of our overall expenditures, it's $50 more than we would have had otherwise.  And yes it's frustrating that  a trip to the grocery store can easily cost $100, twice what I earned on that blog post, but at least that means our net expenditure from our monthly income is only $50 instead of the full hundred.  (Also it's true that writing a blog post hardly knocked me out, so $50 is a pretty good amount for the effort I put in.  But I'm refraining from talking about my earnings in my actual freelance work, because who puts that stuff on the Internet?)
• How is the house going to get clean if you don't clean it in small chunks?  Sounds logical, but this one is actually the hardest attitude to change because of the actual, very real fact that when I clean in small chunks, my family seems to turn around and mess the place up again in very large chunks.  So that's why 2-car garage still only fits one car, and why that car looks like it could be a contender for Hoarders: Car Edition. 

I think my main problem is that I have expectations for myself in my head, and if I fall short of those expectations, I feel like a failure.  I can't ever see that any progress toward those expectations is better than nothing.  It's all or nothing.  Black or white.  No gray areas.

So, my goal for the summer is to get better at recognizing the shades of gray.  That and to make the perfect vegetable sandwich.

 This random kitty from the Internet says, Shades of gray are beautiful!

We Aren't Doing Camp This Summer. I Think. Maybe.

If I were one of those Good Bloggers who kept a filing system, this post would be filed under: Boring Stuff Moms Talk About.  And with Memorial Day rapidly approaching (yay!), the topic we're all discussing is What are your kids doing over the summer? 

Kids today have a gigantically gigantic list of options for organized summer activities.  You have your standard all-purpose day camps, as well as a dizzying list of specialty summer camps. 

Now, normally I'm totally jazzed about all the options available for Nathan's entertainment and enrichment.  The park district summer catalog comes in the mail, and I'm all, Yay, let's get out the highlighter and find ways fill up our summer!

This year, though, I'm just not feeling it.  It's the end of the school year, and even though Nathan is just finishing up three-day-a-week preschool, I feel burned out.  I'm tired of having to wake him up and dress his half-asleep body and try to cram some breakfast, any breakfast, into him.  I'm tired of GET IN THE CAR COME ON NO YOU LIKE SCHOOL STOP IT GET IN THE CAR COME ON WE'RE LATE I SAID GET IN THE CAR.  I'm sick of living my life on a frantic schedule wherein everything I do must be crammed into the three-hour window between 9:00 and noon. 

So why would I want to prolong this same exact scenario all summer long by putting him in a day camp five days a week? 

And the fact of the matter is that Nathan doesn't really like a full schedule of organized activities.  Day camp forces both of us to confront three of Nathan's most challenging qualities: (1) He doesn't like to get up early, (2) He doesn't like to transition from one activity to the next against his will, and (3) He doesn't like being told how to spend his leisure time. 

And yes, I understand that all three of those are Useful Life Skills that he needs to develop.  He'll need to become a little more flexible in order to succeed in school and in life. 

But he can practice those skills in the fall.  For now he needs a break, and so do I.  It just doesn't seem like camp--a situation that's supposed to be fun--is the time and place to enforce responsibility and discipline. 

Therefore, this year we're going with the more laid-back, old-fashioned, see-where-the-day-takes-us plan for summer.  It all sounds so simple and pleasant (also: cheaper). 

Still, I have my reservations.  For one thing, the less-structured plan is a complete 180 from the philosophy I've held in the past.  (Well, maybe more like a 140.  Aren't math metaphors useful?)  I have long believed that I personally need the structure of a fixed schedule of activities to maintain my own sanity.  A long day of nothing to do sounds good on paper, but often results in a wasted, unproductive day where I procrastinate on all my obligations and Nathan watches too much TV. 

And let me talk about TV a little more.  I think the idea of an unscheduled summer day conjures up images of sleeping in, followed by a leisurely breakfast on the porch and a day of spontaneous activities like building a blanket fort and coloring with sidewalk chalk.  And while those activities are in our rotation, more often than not a free day at home deteriorates into excessive screen time for Nathan.  That's especially true when I have an influx of work and need an easy way to keep Nathan occupied. 

Which brings me to the topic of Camp As Affordable Childcare.  If I end up with a significant amount of work this summer, would it be easier to just have Nathan in camp for several hours a day so I can have uninterrupted work time?  Wouldn't it be better to have him in a setting where he can participate in constructive activities with kids his own age, rather than being parked in front of the TV or forced to play alone all day while I work?  Or is it actually harder to juggle working and the camp schedule than it is to work while he's at home with me (admittedly interrupting me a lot)?  These are questions I I can't answer until I get a better feel for what my summer workload may be like. 

For now, I'm hoping that we have enough planned to balance my need for structure with Nathan's need for a break.  I have in no way taken any measures to accommodate the x-factor that is my potential need for childcare while I work, because in the world of freelance, the workload is so unpredictable that any attempt to plan for future childcare makes my head hurt.  (Also I have a sort of Murphy's Law belief that the less childcare I have scheduled, the more likely it is that I'll get work to do.  So I try not to schedule childcare.) 

I did sign Nathan up for four weeks of morning swim lessons (half an hour each morning, four mornings a week), because learning how to swim is non-negotiable.  And I guess it's not totally accurate to say he isn't doing any camp, because I did sign him up for the Safety Town program in August, which is a famed program in my town wherein incoming kindergarteners get some back-to-school safety information while driving around in little toy cars. 

I figure with those activities, plus the gym in the morning and the public pool in the afternoons, we'll be busy enough.  And we're committed to t-ball through the end of June.  I reserve the right to sign him up for camp at a future date if the shit hits the fan for me, sanity-wise, because in addition to the whole work thing, Good Lord I won't have any time to run errands child-free (though my husband is home a lot more in the summertime).  Or, I might just have a babysitter come to the house, because, believe it or not, Nathan actually told me the other day that he wants to have a babysitter more often.  (This was part of a conversation that began with, "Mom, when are you gonna get a JOB?") 

So, those are my views on the important topic of How to Schedule Your Kid's Summer Vacation.  And, as always, let me note that I am only speaking to what I hope is right for my child and my family and my situation.  Everybody's situation varies.  Some kids actually like camps and organized activity.  And I fully acknowledge that camp is the most affordable childcare option for parents who work outside the home or work from home.  I'm not anti-camp.  I'm just not sure camp is the right decision for us at this particular time.  I think.  Maybe.