My Life as a Boob

Adventures in comedy, child-rearing and combinations thereof.

Dude, this is gonna be harder than I thought March 31, 2009

Filed under: Uncategorized — jennywynter @ 4:32 am
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Okay, so today officially marks day one of our training. Last week we deemed much more of a ‘warm up’ week, in which we would ease our way into our new regime, which is not only quite jam-packed to say the least, but requires a virtual Masters degree in time management, thanks to juggling three kidlets (one of them newborn) and virtually no babysitting.

So part of this, I thought, could work if I could simply find a way to fit some of my runs into my daily routine with the kids. This seemed a reasonable plan too: Little Miss Boob is already well into the whole idea and quite a little runner herself, we have a dog that needs to be walked so to up the pace seems just a bonus, we have a stroller for Littlest Boob which can just be pushed faster and in dire straits, used as a crutch to prevent collapse, and Little Master Boob can ride his bike ahead of us to set the pace.

Oh yes, in theory: grand.

In reality: first of all, the little issue of residue snow on the footpath. One thing I’ve never had to deal with in any of my 5-minute fitness crazes in Oz. The frustration this involved in both pushing the pram and riding the bike led to problem #2, specifically, Little Mister Boob deciding five minutes into our outing that he didn’t want to ride his bike at all, but indeed, wanted to RUN.

Yes, that’s right: run. He who trails behind us further and further on every family walk we ever embark upon, he who must be bribed into even completing said walk with the promise of hot chocolate and/or milkshakes (weather depending), he who could quite forseeably complete a PhD in dawdling…HE wants to RUN.

And so my delightful supermummy jog becomes an exercise in pushing the pram through chunks of snow, while trying to pull back the over-eager dog (who is now trying to catch up with the kids) and towing Little Master’s bike with my other arm, all while walking at a snail’s pace. Indeed, probably the only actual real exercise of value I got was my hamstrings stretching as I bent down to pick up after the dog.

This is the day that I realised: it’s not just the triathlon that’s gonna be a challenge. If I can actually get through my training plan in any given week, THAT is gonna be worth a freaking medal.

Bring it.

 

On Fluids March 29, 2009

Filed under: Uncategorized — jennywynter @ 6:25 am

So much of my life right now is about fluids. I’m either funnelling litres of them into me to keep up with the demand of milk that’s coming out of me, or I’m having them puked all over me by Littlest Boob or spilled over me by Little Miss and Little Master Boob respectively.

It’s a good thing I’m Pisces.

 

Ain’t no room for niceties from this coach March 27, 2009

Filed under: Uncategorized — jennywynter @ 3:28 am

First of all, I’m performing in my first post-bub Gorilla Theatre at Loose Moose this Saturday. We’ve hired a babysitter and everything, so that Master Boob can make the jaunt up with me with littlest Boob in tow. All going perfectly, littlest B will sleep through the entire show, wake up comfortably at interval whereupon I shall feed him before busting back onstage in the second half.

Or…I’ll be forced to bring said child onstage and bring a performance out of him, though knowing how dark some of my child-related improvs have been in the past, that’s possibly not a good thing.

There, that’s said.

Secondly, the training, the training, the training! Well, as promised I bought my healthy snacks and pool pass, last night was my first night swimming – for twenty minutes straight. That doesn’t sound like a lot even on cyber-paper, but dang, you try doing it if you’re not a regular swimmer and shoot me if the minute hand of the clock seems like it’s completely stuck. Anyhoo, I made like Dory and pledged to “just keep swimming, just keep swimming…” and made it. I felt fantastic!! I felt jubilated!! I felt like my legs were about to buckle. But you know? I think I really can do this.

Note to t3mporal3lbow, your point on pacing myself is duly noted, considered and ignored.

Hehe, just kidding. I get it, I get it, I do need to not burn out, that seems to be the story of my life.

Then today was run/walk session number two with my coach, otherwise known as Little Miss Boob, resplendant in her six years of pint-sized motivational wisdom and penchant for backhanded compliments, including:

“You know Mum, you’re pretty fit! Not as fit as you should be, but pretty fit!”

and

“You can run really fast for someone your age!”

and finally, my personal favourite. Today at the swimming pool (not for my benefit, just a splash around with the kidlets), while getting changed into our swimming atire…

Little Master Boob (4): “Mum, you’re too fat to wear those!” (At which I very graciously neglected to point out that I’m but five weeks post-birth of number three, with him being but ONE tenant who has completely trashed the premises)

Little Miss Boob (6): “Little Master Boob, you can’t say that! That’s rude and hurts Mummy’s feelings!”

At which point, I’m about to hug her in a beautiful commercial-worthy moment, tearing up and congratulating her on her wisdom and sensitivity. Until she adds:

“What you can say is, ‘Your tummy is big and round.’

Go coach.

 

The journey begins… March 25, 2009

Filed under: Uncategorized — jennywynter @ 5:06 am
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Wow oh wow. So we’re doing it. The triathlon that is. Ehem.

I can’t believe it. I’m scared, excited, pumped, skeptical and motivated – both to get into shape and reach for the nearest tub of Haagen Daas – all at the same time. July 4 is the big day baby. Not only is that my delightful and beloved cuzzy wuzzy Alice’s birthday, but it’s also a certain nation’s anniversary of independence or something. I’m sure there’s some kinda poetry in that, namely because I’m finding I have this bizarre inclination to scrawl in nikko pen on that date on our calendar, something like “CLAIM IT, BABY!”

Yes, I’m losing it.

So I’ve ordered books from the library on training for your first triathlon, I’ve researched preliminary ideas for training plans and even written a weekly diary out for both Tim and I, including the logistical nightmare of each being able to train six days a week while not getting arrested by Child Protective Services.  I’ve created a virtual image of my current body and then my ideal body just to motivate me (or allow me to indulge my fantasty of being cast in the 3D Beowulf.) Tomorrow I’m going to buy a pool pass, stock up on healthy snacks and start getting friendly with my crock-pot. Cos I figure I’m going to need all the time management help I can find.

I’ve even gotten Little Miss Boob on the job, who was so enthused at the idea (and the prospect of her own little self competing in the kids’ race which follows the main event on aforementioned fateful day) that she’s appointed herself our official coach extraordinaire, pledging to run with us, make sure we stay on track with our training and nutritional commitments, while forcing us to refer to her from hereon in as “Oh Captain, my Captain.”

She came with me this avo on my very first run, trotting alongside me, pointing out landmarks to aim for before our next walking break and you know? She wasn’t half bad. Until around twelve minutes into it, when she declared her ankle was sore and “how can you expect me to train you when I have a twisted ankle?”

Hmmm…I asked coach if we should just walk.

“Yes,” she replied. “That would be okay.”

So we walked the remaining thirteen minutes of our designated training time.

Now on the record, I’m not saying she’s my kinda coach, but off the record?

She’s my kinda coach.

 

Your little girl is looking after herself… March 24, 2009

Filed under: Uncategorized — jennywynter @ 6:09 am
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Maybe it was me turning thirty and the disturbing realisation that when walking up and down stairs, my knees crack. Maybe it was having child #3 in a foreign country and knowing all too well that if I didn’t start to change some things, I’d be very easily seduced by the power of the dark side. Or maybe it was the lingering words of my ultra-gorgeous cousin and mother-of-two Monique, who upon rocking up to my groovy Auntie’s 40th b’day party last year looking nothing less than sens-smashing-sational, announced to me: “Well, I’ve finally accepted that it’s just not gonna come easy anymore…” then proceeded to confess she was now a 6-days-a-week-at-the-gym kinda gal.

Whatever it was, the bottom line is that I’m finally, finally, FINALLY actually motivated enough to put some effort into looking after myself. Yep, yep, I know. Shocking.

I’m not talking collagen injections, full body abrasions or stomach surgery. Heaven forbid. I’ll save all that for when I’m rich, washed up and/or needing the publicity.

But I’ve started making some changes. Small changes, admittedly, but changes nonetheless. You know, just stuff like moisturising absolutely uncompromisingly (ooh I do hope somebody googles that phrase to find this blog, just so I can track them down and be like all: “hey, what gives?!”) at LEAST twice a day, brushing my hair more than once a month and trying to get out for a 30 minute brisk walk every day (whoever said “a dog is the best exercise machine you’ll ever get” wasn’t kidding, except I don’t know about the ‘best’ – I mean, I’ve seen those ads for those machines that just basically massage the living daylights out of your flab for twenty minutes and you just stand there and reap the benefits, that sounds pretty sweet. I mean I love my dog but will she knead the knots in my ever-aching back? Sigh.)

And in a fit of insanity, I’ve been seriously flirting with the idea of doing a mini triathlon on July 4th. Seriously. Insane. I’m so out of shape I don’t think there even IS a shape to describe me. But tonight I mentioned the idea to Mister Boob and he was not only supportive but was keen to join me in this mad adventure.

More on that later.

Excuse me. I’ve got a cucumber mask to rinse off.

 

Our first Canadian camp-out…er, I mean ‘in’. March 21, 2009

Filed under: Uncategorized — jennywynter @ 4:38 am
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So tonight we had our first Canadian camping experience.

While awesome, I’m conflicted to report that it was held indoors. Ladies and gentlement, presenting…

Exhibit A: Our campfire.

campfire

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Exhibit B: Our tents.

ellas-tent

 

 

 

 

 

 

cays-tent1

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And finally, exhibit C: Our alternative to toasted marshmallows/smores.

campfire-fondue

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Man, these rocked. And to think this all began as bribery an incentive for the kids to refrain from climbing the walls this week.

fondue-party

Ah, yes, our first foray into Canadian camping was sweetness incarnat

 

e.

 

And not a grizzly bear in sight.

 

You’ll always take the weather with you March 20, 2009

Filed under: Uncategorized — jennywynter @ 5:00 am
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Two very contradictory experiences this week which reminded me both of the impact that Canada, my current country of abode has had on my life, and of my inherent undeniable Aussie-ness.

The latter: me tearing up in the grocery store upon hearing Midnight Oil on the radio.

The former: A phone conversation with my mother-in-law that went something like this:

Me: “Oh, it’s been really hot here for the past week.”

Her: “What temperature is hot?”

Me: “Well, we’ve had two days of seven degrees.”

Uh…WHAT?!

Exactly.