I've never been much of a bike rider. I'll pretend to be a runner and obviously I ride my horse, but for some reason biking just has never been my thing.
Having gone through pretty much every free exercise class offered around here, I was running out of options to get myself fit which is a big goal of mine for 2016. I have been using a really great interval running app three days a week and only two weeks in already see my recoveries improving.
Two weeks ago a new acquaintance mentioned that she taught a local spin class at a new high tech facility. She has 7 kids of her own and works, so I asked her how on earth she managed to fit it in. Her secrete: a 5:45 am class. I was intrigued. While this would take away my precious sleep, it would allow me to get my exercise in and still make it home in time to take Wyatt to school and then head off to work.
When the alarm went off at 4:45 am, I declared myself insane but got out of bed and out the door anyway. I had registered and chosen my bike in advance as they recommend and was given one free trial class. Upon arrival, I signed in at the ipad attached to the wall and walked over to my bike. The owner was present and helped get me up to speed with the bike.
Heather skipped in with a suspiciously cheery demeanor and strapped on a head set which she used to tell us all to get on and get going. The class would be 45 minutes long.
As I got on and started pumping my legs I thought that this wouldn't be so hard. Biking has no concussive forces, you could use momentum in your favor, and heck it was stationary. How hard could this possibly be?
HA. HAHAHAHAHA.
After a quick 5 minute warm up I was already starting to feel a distinct burning in my thighs and butt. It was manageable, but a little disconcerting so early in the workout.
Up next was their signature 3 minute stress test. Put the gears up until you can barely move the pedals and go as hard as you can for 3 solid minutes. After a minute I was dead. I limped along for the next 2 minutes barely breathing and cursing Heather under my breath.
The two flat screen TVs on the front wall changed to show the bike number ad a gas gauge. This would be used for the remainder of the ride. Your effort output was based on the stress test just performed and the gas gauge was color coded for ease of use: blue was <60% effort, green 61-70%, yellow 71- 80%, orange 81-90% and red >90% to a max of 120% of your total effort.
Heather laughed and told us all to get ready for the real workout. My legs were barely functioning and we still had 35 minutes to go.
The rest of the class was a blur of swearing, sweating, getting nauseas, barely breathing and trying not to either die or look like a total failure.
We did rolling hills: stay in green then jump up to red going up a pretend hill then coast back down the other side in green and back again. For what seemed like forever.
We did standing sets: stay in orange then jump to red and stand up for a count of two, sit for two, stand for four, sit for four, stand for eight, sit for eight then backwards.
We did sprints.
We pedaled the hell out of that bike.
After 45 minutes my legs were noodles. I got off the bike and nearly fell over. I barely made it to my car and when I got home I couldn't make it up the steps.
So much for easy. That bike kicked my ass.
I have been to two sessions now and the second was no easier. Heather assures me that after a month I won't want to die anymore. We shall see.
Even though I pretty much hate every second that I am on that stupid bike, I love the way it makes me feel afterward and knowing that my entire workout for he day is completed by 6:30 am is pretty awesome. It doesn't take any of my time away from either Wyatt or Gem and I can still fit in my interval running in the evenings.
The cost is a little too high for me to be able to go more than one day a week right now, but with the other things I have going on I think this bit of cross training is going to work out just fine.
November 18, 2015
November 16, 2015
Placings
Usually I would just edit my ride story post once the results get posted, mostly because I finish towards the back and it wouldn't warrant a whole new post.
But not this time!
Results are hot off the press and show that I actually took 5th place missing 4th by one second (although that is misleading since the 4th place person was actually 2:45 slow where as we were 2:46 too fast which really separated us by over 5 minutes. Crazy when you think of it like that coming from an endurance background)
Optimum time was 1:47 and we came across the finish in 1:44:14 which means that for once I went too fast :)
I'm doing a happy dance in my chair. Good thing I work for myself or my obsessive checking of the results could have gotten me in trouble.
They should be mailing out a ribbon which I will proudly place on Gem's gate or trailer or something since we don't have a stall to use to brag. I'm excited!!
On another exciting note:
DUSTY AND I ARE THE NATIONAL EQUATHON CHAMPIONS!!!
Yeah, that totally deserves full caps lock :)
I think I ended up in 3rd in the overall individual standings which is also pretty awesome since that combines men and women. It's been a good day to look online.
I have no clue if I get any swag or just bragging rights from the Ride and Tie Association. I guess I will find out sooner or later.
Go TEAM GEMMIECAKES!!
But not this time!
Results are hot off the press and show that I actually took 5th place missing 4th by one second (although that is misleading since the 4th place person was actually 2:45 slow where as we were 2:46 too fast which really separated us by over 5 minutes. Crazy when you think of it like that coming from an endurance background)
Optimum time was 1:47 and we came across the finish in 1:44:14 which means that for once I went too fast :)
I'm doing a happy dance in my chair. Good thing I work for myself or my obsessive checking of the results could have gotten me in trouble.
They should be mailing out a ribbon which I will proudly place on Gem's gate or trailer or something since we don't have a stall to use to brag. I'm excited!!
On another exciting note:
DUSTY AND I ARE THE NATIONAL EQUATHON CHAMPIONS!!!
Yeah, that totally deserves full caps lock :)
I think I ended up in 3rd in the overall individual standings which is also pretty awesome since that combines men and women. It's been a good day to look online.
I have no clue if I get any swag or just bragging rights from the Ride and Tie Association. I guess I will find out sooner or later.
Go TEAM GEMMIECAKES!!
FENCE Fall Hunter Pace 11/15/15
Wunderground told me it was only 28 degrees outside. No big deal: I lived and rode in WI for 3 years and have plenty of cold weather clothing. Fleece riding pants, insulated tall riding boots, tank top, long sleeve tech shirt, thick vest, coat. I headed out prepared for the arctic north.
Having a junior along is great for many reasons. Not only is the enthusiasm contagious, but they are more than willing to do a lot of crappy jobs like grab your mare in the wet morning grass before daylight. Waffles took some time to load the first trip out and I start with her again, but she is a lovely mare and a quick learner and loads up after only 10 minutes or so. Next it is Gem's turn and my jaw drops to the ground as she waltzes right onto the trailer on her own without me doing anything at all. This is the first time she has ever really self loaded. It is a great start to the day.
The drive should take just under an hour and we are about 25 minutes away when Haley remembers that she forgot her helmet back at the barn. She doesn't wear one unless riding with me when I make her and the paces require a helmet for all riders. Fortunately Dusty is in the van behind us and I call him to ask if he can turn around and get it.
We pull into the facility and register for the ride. Wyatt is with us, so we walk around the grounds exploring while we wait for Dusty to meet us. He calls a while later to say that he got pulled over for speeding trying to catch back up to us. It is his first ticket in probably 7-8 years and he isn't a happy camper. Sorry honey.
 |
| Looking down the steeplechase track |
I find it really interesting that some of the events this year are stating the distance when you head out. I thought that was part of the challenge: having to pace your horse for an unknown distance. Either way they tell us it is 8.5 miles and send us on our way.
When Gem comes back from a long period of rest she is either a fire breathing dragon or a complete slug. I'm preparing for the former, but quickly note that I have the latter under me. She is dragging already and in no mood to work today. Too bad mare, we have some trails to explore.
Waffles is being a bit spooky as well and both mares are letting us know what they think about working in the cold. The trail heads out through the parking lot and across the road then follows it under two busy underpasses. I really dislike this portion of the trail as big trucks and fast cars go zipping by overhead.
It is short lived though and we soon make it to the cross country field where the real fun begins. Both mares are being really looky at the jumps, tree line and water and we pick up a trot to get their feet moving. It takes the first 1.5 miles to settle them in and get to work.
We cross the first of several concrete bridges and Gem is being a total butt. Bridges are one thing that always gets her, but when we are alone or with an unknown horse she will cross. Not with Waffles. Waffles in 2nd in command of her herd and Gem I the lowest of the low. She will not lead that mare over and Waffles is having none of it either. Eventually we get the across but it is no fun.
After that the girls get a move on and we start to cover some ground. 2 miles in we hit a clear stream. As much as Gem hates bridges, Waffles hate water and I prepare for a bit of a fight to cross. Gem is having none of it though and bulldozes right past Waffles. As soon as she gets in she drops her head and chugs the water. I have never seen her drink before 10 miles before, so she must have really been thirsty.
The trail we are following is mostly wooded with full leaf cover over the trail. It is surprisingly dry and firm given all the rain we have been getting lately. Gem is moving out well and the cool air is keeping them from overheating. There are several creek crossings along this stretch and Gem stops to drink out of them all. Waffles starts off being a little confused, but by the third one she drops her nose down and begins to drink.
The woods end in a large field with the breathtaking views of the mountains that I have come to both expect and enjoy. We open them up for a nice long canter and Gem is feeling more sluggish than she should. I know she is really out of shape, but this is just a little less energy than I am happy with out of her. Of course, Waffles moves out much faster than Gem does anyway and she has to work hard to keep up. Still she should be a little more peppy. My overactive, hyper paranoid about horse injury brain starts to kick in.
All too soon the half way point comes into view and there are two lovely women with an elderly dog waiting for us. They offer us a drink: apple juice, water or port. Hmmm...I think I would like to stay on my horse for the next 4 miles, so I will just take the water.
I hop off Gem to give her a break and check her over. Everything seems fine and she looks good if a little sleepy. For some reason I think it is a good idea to shorten my left stirrup a hole. Stupid, stupid stupid. As soon as I climb back onboard I know it is a mistake. I ma now lopsided as my left is too short. Oh well. I don't feel like stopping to fix it now.
The trail leading from the rest stop is a grassy lane and we get the girls moving out once again.
We had passed one group of riders pretty early on and have yet to see them again or anyone else. My watch is showing us moving at a good pace and I am growing hopeful that maybe we won't be dead last yet again.
Haley makes good company and Waffles is brave and bold. She really stumbled onto a great mare. At only 7 years old the Arab cross moves out at a lovely 10 mph when given her choice of pace and is forward, happy and content in exploring the trails. She makes my "experienced" endurance mare look like a big baby as we follow along behind her cantering to keep up with her ground covering trot. I wonder if she would be willing to trade? Nah....I love my Gemmie.
The trail is marked really well despite their warning that they had to use different colors and the miles just tick on by.
We pop out of the woods and see this Paso Fino farm sprawled out in front of us.
The large gazebo in the back is a hot walker and all the horses look fit and happy. We stop to grab a picture and let the horses breathe after a strenuous climb and then sadly make our way along noting that we only have about 2 miles left which travels back to the cross country course, along the road and under the highway once again. The way home though makes a sharp right and grants participants the chance to race along the steeplechase course before dodging between the barns and back to the finish line.
We hit the steeplechase track and ask for a canter. Something spooks Waffles and she makes a sharp left heading the opposite direction. Haley stays put and reels her in before long and we begin again. I'm not sure what has her amped up, but we slow to a trot to cover the ground instead.
My Garmin reads 1 hour 44 minutes and just shy of 8.5 miles. We will have to wait and see what the official results say, but I am really happy with that. Haley looks up our finish from two years ago and Dusty and I finished in 1 hour 46 minutes and took 4th place being off the optimum by 1 minute 51 seconds. Fingers crossed!
The mares look so different at the end. Waffles is drenched in sweat as are most of the other horses coming off the trail. Gem looks like this:
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| Please ignore her complete lack of top line and muscle tone. |
Other than her saddle area and a bit on her chest she is dry as a bone. I immediately start worrying about anhidorsis, near death, etc... but she is happily chowing down on her grain and emptying her hay bag so I guess she isn't in immediate danger.
Us humans head over to the food tent and chow down on BBQ and then head on home. She is perky and fresh leaving the trailer and happy to return to her pasture so maybe she isn't dying after all. Lazy mare needs to get out a bit more often.
November 10, 2015
In Which I Manage To Not Get Arrested For Assault
Dog training extraordinaire, I am not. Heck, my 1 1/2 year old Boykin just recently stopped peeing in the house. I do not keep up with the latest training theories or ideas and have no clue what all commands I probably should have taught my dogs by now.
o
But they all know come, sit, stay. They can all stay in the yard without a fence or leash and not bother anyone. They can all be taken for a hike without a leash and come back when called. They don't growl at people or dogs. They don't jump on people (well, anymore..Einstein just got over that too) and will take a full body tackle from a toddler without pause. I think they function just fine in society.
Einstein has been really, really rough on the leash though. While the other two could walk with a loose leash and not pull, get stepped on or otherwise be a nuisance, Einstein rushes at the end and leaps, pulls your arm out and does every other bad leash behavior possible. We have tried everything I could think of: the make him sit and calm down each time method, the turn around and walk the opposite direction method, the who gives a crap let him pull until he passes out method. None worked. This is compounded by two facts: 1) He has a wimpy trachea that will collapse with the slightest pressure causing him to go into severe coughing fits and 2) He has separation anxiety and if he feels like he is falling behind, even though he is attached to a human on the leash, he will freak out and do all he can to catch up even if it means pulling to the point of pain. Yep, he is a tricky one.
There is a local dog training facility that also has doggie day care and a few months ago we started to take Einstein one day a week to help him get his wiggles out and enjoy life out of his crate. He comes home tired, happy and smelling good and I have had no complaints what so ever, so when they posted a clinic on loose leash walking I was all game and signed us up.
The clinic was last Saturday from 2-3:30pm and cost $25. It was led by their top dog trainer and I was really excited to learn some tools to work with. Now, I knew going into it that my choice of a harness would be questioned. A flat collar and a choke chain were definitely out given his medical issue, but I was hoping a good trainer would listen to that and work within my reality and not some hard and fast rule she learned once upon a time.
There were 6 other dogs in the clinic: a 4 month old Great Dane puppy already larger than Einstein, two older mutts, an extremely dog aggressive pitt bull (I am not trashing the breed here, I love pitts, but this guy was vicious), and two middle aged German Shepherds. All showed up in a flat collar, except us with the harness and the pitt who wore both a large prong collar and a choke chain with a special leash that attached to both.
The super trainer showed up 10 minutes late and spent the next 5 complaining about the humidity. Not a good start, but I settled my irritation and got ready to learn. We all introduced ourselves, our dogs and gave a brief counting of the issues we were having while on lead: pulling, crossing in front, lagging behind etc...
Knowing my choice of harness would be questioned, I opened with the fact that any stimulation to his neck causes a massive coughing fit which was adding to our issues. She openly rolled her eyes and scoffed at me. It was rude and I felt my self control start to slip. It was 20 minutes into the class.
Next, we were all asked to individually walk our dogs around the room to show how we corrected and such. That was the first time I got to work with Einstein and it lasted for a 1 minute circuit around the room.
Once we all had a chance to show our stuff, she went into talking mode. I listened intently hoping to grasp at some straws of wisdom. Her talk lasted one minute and went something like this:
"All dogs need a prong collar. It doesn't matter their demeanor, personality or training level. "
The end. Um???
Ok...full disclosure: I HATE prong collars. Dusty has seen some pretty nasty things over the years from those. I know it is a training tool. I know it is much like using a stronger bit or the like in horses. I know in some cases they are needed. But for everyone? No matter the situation? No matter the dog?? You call yourself a trainer??
She handed out prong collars to everyone (even the poor 4 month old puppy until the owner looked appalled so she switched it to a choke chain.) and I raised my hand.
"What about those gentle leaders? I have had good luck with them in the past."
"He isn't a horse. So no." Eye roll again.
Ahhh...ok...cue resting bitch face now.
Super trainer then walked over and grabbed each dog in turn to show the remarkable difference the prong collar made and how she could turn your leash ambivalent pooch into a loose walking machine.
When it was Einstein's turn she took the leash without making eye contact with me and proceeded to pop him in the neck with the leash to cue "walk". Without even giving him a chance to respond first. Without even giving him a chance to get used to the new collar on his neck.
He responded by thrashing about and screaming blood curdling murder at the top of his lungs. She laughed and pointed to me saying that it was my fault he wasn't used to a collar around his neck. I saw red.
She "walked", and I use that term loosely, him around the room popping him forcefully in the neck each time he even thought about stopping or going forward until she created a panic ridden, shaking, anxious dog who wasn't learning anything. he was reacting to the pain she was inflicting and by the end of a two minute circuit he was at her heels, tongue lolling about, eyes popping out of his head.
She looked around the room triumphantly and declared him cured of his leash walking misdemeanors. I asked what would happen if she removed the prong collar and walked hi around on his harness. If he was cured of all his leash woes he should then be able to walk next to her heel without the pain inflicting metal contraption. She handed him back and moved on without acknowledging me.
Yeah, you are a great trainer.
This was repeated with each poor dog in the room and then she declared everyone trained.
The last 30 minutes, instead of us working on our dog handling skills, she talked about the collars some more, the fact that they should be left on all day to be used to correct any bad behavior immediately and oh - please sign up for my other classes.
When she tried to make me pay for the collar, it took all my will power to place it on the ground instead of throwing it in her face. I did roll my eyes though. That was fun.
I apologized to Einstein for this torture session, debated on asking for my money back and then watched as all the dogs slunk back to their cars no better trained, but now fearful of ever going on a walk again.
Once home, I did my best to erase the memory of the afternoon and took Einstein and Bones out for a walk in the neighborhood with Dusty and Wyatt. Einstein was nervous and shaking to begin with, but soon relaxed and enjoyed life again. I will be trying a gentle leader on him in the near future.
November 9, 2015
My Best Friend
Lately I have been feeling a little lost without a friend. Moving to SC was great in a lot of ways, but we have found ourselves devoid of any close friends here for the first time. In all our other moves we were able to make a set of good friends who we could hang out with, laugh with and talk to. It is not SC's fault. It is more to do with the period we are at in our lives, but it doesn't make it suck any less.
I've been yearning for that friend who thinks I'm funny even when I'm just being strange. Who chooses to seek out my company and doesn't wait on me to do it all. Someone who stands by me when I'm happy, sad, angry, cranky or sick. Someone who is game to do all the crazy spontaneous things that pop up in my mind at the drop of a hat. Someone with whom I can be 100% completely, totally myself at all times.
And then it hit me. I already have all of that.
While I was making the one millionth circuit around the downstairs with my knees and ankles locked out, my arms extended with fingers out and palms facing inward, shouting "I. Am. A. Robot. I. Am. Going. To. Get. You" and listening to the near breathless hysterics of the little man I was chasing on yet another rainy day, it hit me: Wyatt is my best friend. And he is the best friend a gal could ever hope for.
So while I still would love to have fellow adult friendship and talk, laugh and do crazy non toddler things, I think I am pretty darn lucky right where I am at. I do have people I ride with on occasion, friends I text and commiserate with when they are having a bad day or celebrate with them when something good happens. I have people who randomly call me to say hello or drop a facebook message. But that one special person who is game for almost anything, who laughs at all my jokes and couldn't imagine me being anyone else even when my filter breaks and I say something I shouldn't have, well he just happens to be three years old, blonde and with the most gorgeous hazel eyes you have ever seen.
I've been yearning for that friend who thinks I'm funny even when I'm just being strange. Who chooses to seek out my company and doesn't wait on me to do it all. Someone who stands by me when I'm happy, sad, angry, cranky or sick. Someone who is game to do all the crazy spontaneous things that pop up in my mind at the drop of a hat. Someone with whom I can be 100% completely, totally myself at all times.
And then it hit me. I already have all of that.
While I was making the one millionth circuit around the downstairs with my knees and ankles locked out, my arms extended with fingers out and palms facing inward, shouting "I. Am. A. Robot. I. Am. Going. To. Get. You" and listening to the near breathless hysterics of the little man I was chasing on yet another rainy day, it hit me: Wyatt is my best friend. And he is the best friend a gal could ever hope for.
So while I still would love to have fellow adult friendship and talk, laugh and do crazy non toddler things, I think I am pretty darn lucky right where I am at. I do have people I ride with on occasion, friends I text and commiserate with when they are having a bad day or celebrate with them when something good happens. I have people who randomly call me to say hello or drop a facebook message. But that one special person who is game for almost anything, who laughs at all my jokes and couldn't imagine me being anyone else even when my filter breaks and I say something I shouldn't have, well he just happens to be three years old, blonde and with the most gorgeous hazel eyes you have ever seen.
November 5, 2015
Do I Still Even Have A Horse?
Lately, I'm not so sure.
It has been two weeks since I have laid eyes on her fuzzy body and nearly a month since I last rode. She is going to be one angry mare when I go see her this weekend.
Pre mommy era, I would see her three times a week and would have been appalled at the very thought of going this long, but post mommy era reality is that this is ok. Life gets in the way a lot: SC has decided to become an honorary member of the pacific northwest with rain falling nearly constantly this fall (seriously, it hasn't stopped raining to some degree in the last 7 days), I came down with a nasty sinus infection turned bronchitis two weeks ago and today is the first time I have not felt like hiding in a hole and sleeping my life away, kiddo plans, added work shifts to help with finances....it all adds up.
I am basically fine with this. Gem is ok hanging out in her herd eating the last remnants of fall grass and growing out her damaged hoof wall. There is no rush to do much of anything with her except enjoy the moments I have when I can.
There is one exception to this: Broxton Bridge. A lot of local endurance people are heading out today for the last ride of the season (although honestly this is pretty deceptive down here where there may be a month lag between seasons versus up in WI where all trails closed from Nov 1- April 1) and I really wish I was amongst them.
Gemmie could do a conservative 25 and if I had anyone who wanted to catch a ride on her, I'd be all up for making it work out. I can go, I can camp and I can crew, but I can't ride: 1) I am really not feeling well enough to do 25 miles at all and 2) I will have Wyatt. So I guess if anyone reading this would want a last second trip to SC for a LD, let me know!
It has been two weeks since I have laid eyes on her fuzzy body and nearly a month since I last rode. She is going to be one angry mare when I go see her this weekend.
Pre mommy era, I would see her three times a week and would have been appalled at the very thought of going this long, but post mommy era reality is that this is ok. Life gets in the way a lot: SC has decided to become an honorary member of the pacific northwest with rain falling nearly constantly this fall (seriously, it hasn't stopped raining to some degree in the last 7 days), I came down with a nasty sinus infection turned bronchitis two weeks ago and today is the first time I have not felt like hiding in a hole and sleeping my life away, kiddo plans, added work shifts to help with finances....it all adds up.
I am basically fine with this. Gem is ok hanging out in her herd eating the last remnants of fall grass and growing out her damaged hoof wall. There is no rush to do much of anything with her except enjoy the moments I have when I can.
There is one exception to this: Broxton Bridge. A lot of local endurance people are heading out today for the last ride of the season (although honestly this is pretty deceptive down here where there may be a month lag between seasons versus up in WI where all trails closed from Nov 1- April 1) and I really wish I was amongst them.
Gemmie could do a conservative 25 and if I had anyone who wanted to catch a ride on her, I'd be all up for making it work out. I can go, I can camp and I can crew, but I can't ride: 1) I am really not feeling well enough to do 25 miles at all and 2) I will have Wyatt. So I guess if anyone reading this would want a last second trip to SC for a LD, let me know!
November 2, 2015
In Which I Become That Parent
In general I am a low key type of parent. For those of you who are my Facebook friend, you will know that my kiddo is filthy dirty more often than clean and his favorite activity is digging with his dump trucks and digger toys. He plays in creeks, swims in rivers and has probably eaten his fair share of horse poop along the way. It will make him stronger as an adult, right?
I don't plan on having him enrolled in 57 different sports and activities and while I am not a "trophy for everyone" type of person, I also could care less if he wins the toddler Olympics. As long as he is having fun, I'm cool with last place.
Except on Halloween when I apparently dressed up as THAT PARENT.
It goes a looong way back. When I was of Trick or Treating age, my dad and I would go out together. I never had friends with me. Probably because I was obnoxious and nobody wanted to join my special type of insanity. I dressed as a witch every single year and carried a pillow case for my loot. My dad would come along and carry a spare pillow case. I would literally sprint from house to house, breathless in my pursuit of turning the whole celebration into a contest of beating my previous year's record of houses.
I was polite, would say thank you, never cut through flower beds and never bowled any kids over, but I was determined to hit as many houses as possible in the skimpy 2 hour window the area allowed. It was epic. And probably a little sad.
The last two Halloweens, Wyatt was too young to get the point and we just hit up our neighbors houses to show off his cute costume and called it a night with two or three pieces of candy he never ate anyway.
Not this year.
This year he is nearly 3 and we went out with his cousins and hit up their large neighborhood. I was chomping a the bit. I was foaming at the mouth.
I was embarrassing my husband and annoying my child.
I would urge him on with a "go, go go! you gotta get up to that door quickly!" When he took what seemed like an hour but was really only a minute or two to make his candy selection, I groaned inside thinking of the lost time. The missed houses.
When we selected a route that was devoid of many lights only to hit a house or two, my soul died at the thought of all those missed houses down the side street we avoided. AAAHH!!
Dusty wondered where Wyatt's low key mom had gone.
I don't plan on having him enrolled in 57 different sports and activities and while I am not a "trophy for everyone" type of person, I also could care less if he wins the toddler Olympics. As long as he is having fun, I'm cool with last place.
Except on Halloween when I apparently dressed up as THAT PARENT.
It goes a looong way back. When I was of Trick or Treating age, my dad and I would go out together. I never had friends with me. Probably because I was obnoxious and nobody wanted to join my special type of insanity. I dressed as a witch every single year and carried a pillow case for my loot. My dad would come along and carry a spare pillow case. I would literally sprint from house to house, breathless in my pursuit of turning the whole celebration into a contest of beating my previous year's record of houses.
I was polite, would say thank you, never cut through flower beds and never bowled any kids over, but I was determined to hit as many houses as possible in the skimpy 2 hour window the area allowed. It was epic. And probably a little sad.
The last two Halloweens, Wyatt was too young to get the point and we just hit up our neighbors houses to show off his cute costume and called it a night with two or three pieces of candy he never ate anyway.
Not this year.
This year he is nearly 3 and we went out with his cousins and hit up their large neighborhood. I was chomping a the bit. I was foaming at the mouth.
I was embarrassing my husband and annoying my child.
I would urge him on with a "go, go go! you gotta get up to that door quickly!" When he took what seemed like an hour but was really only a minute or two to make his candy selection, I groaned inside thinking of the lost time. The missed houses.
When we selected a route that was devoid of many lights only to hit a house or two, my soul died at the thought of all those missed houses down the side street we avoided. AAAHH!!
Dusty wondered where Wyatt's low key mom had gone.
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