East Bay Mom

I couldn't resist posting this.  Is it sad that I laughed from beginning to end?

My friend forwarded me this funny drawing.  The picture was a child's representation of their mommy's job at Home Depot selling the last shovel in the midst of a blizzard.  Uh-huh.... Whether it's real or fake, it's still hilarious, and a great reminder of how children pick up on everything!

I have dark brown eyes, dark brown hair, skin that tans -- all dominant traits.  Everyone in my family has dark eyes & dark hair.  I knew that any kid I popped out was going to be my spitting image, fully equipped with dark brown eyes and hair.  Yet, somehow all of that 8th grade learning of Punnett Squares went out the window when I gave birth to a beautiful *blond* haired little girl.  How in the world did that happen?

I (of course) think that my daughter's combination of brown eyes and blond hair is quite striking.  It's a unique combination.  But I will admit that I wish we looked more alike.  You may be thinking... "Well, that's awfully narcissistic!"  That couldn't be more opposite of the case.  The thing is people don't think that my daughter is my daughter.  She actually looks nothing like me.  If she hadn't physically come out of me, I would honestly question myself if she was mine. 

I have something in common with Run DMC -- I love my Adidas.  I am an avid runner and dedicated Adidas Supernova consumer for the past 15 years.  The shoe fits my foot like Cinderella's glass slipper and gives the perfect amount of pronation control.  But there's more to my affection ...

Shoes have become strangely sentimental to me.  Particularly, my Adidas.  They helped me brave the intimidating halls of high school, cross the drill field at Virginia Tech, drive me cross country to move to California and explore the streets of San Francisco.  When I was 8 months pregnant, I ran, yes ran, to the top of Shell Ridge.  Couldn't have done that without my Adidas!  Most recently, my Adidas carried me 26.2 miles to the finish line of the Honolulu marathon.

My girlfriend sent me this, and I admit to totally seeing my daughter doing this.  Hilarious ... and a good reminder at the same time how curious and willing to explore little ones are.

Expression is healthy.  A smile is warming, tears are cleansing and even hitting a pillow can be therapeutic.  Children express their raw emotions through laughter and crying.  As children mature, we teach them how to control their emotions, and hopefully avoid any kicking, screaming tantrums in the middle of Target.

No one, I am convinced, is ever perfect.  Not even the Pope.  Everyone has good days and bad days.  Everyone has great days and horrific days.  We seem to accept good and bad days as a part of life.  We remember the great days.  We would rather forget the horrific ones.

My daughter just had a horrific day, one that I am embarrassed to discuss.  Probably every parent's nightmare is getting the call from school.  You worry whether your child is sick or hurt.  The call came othe other day for me.  No, my child was not hurt, ill nor did she wet her pants and was in need of a fresh set of undies.  I wish it had been any of those.  My child scratched two children and yelled at another.

Hilarious... it's like a loveable Walter.

Yesterday I was on one of my usual runs up in Shell Ridge in Walnut Creek.  The run starts with about a 700 ft elevation climb.  On my way up, I passed a nice couple who cheered me on.  They said to me jokingly "You're Nuts!".  My knee jerk reaction to this was to smile.  Then I thought, wait ... am I?

Luckily, I had another 45 minutes of running alone to process my thoughts.  I love running.  I love the way it makes my body feel, and I enjoy the challenge of making it to the top of the ridge, and taking in the 360 view of the bay area.  And, most importantly, I can do it!  Why is it deemed wacko in other people's eyes to run up the mountain when there are so many benefits to my physical health?

Mary Poppins was lucky she was dealing with sick kids when she fed them a spoonful of sugar.  I am convinced after many a birthday party filled with cake, ice cream and candy that a spoonful of sugar to a healthy child is a recipe for manic behavior followed by tantrums and fatigue. 

Why is it that we as parents subject ourselves to this nearly every weekend?  Why do birthday parties and kid functions mandate serving with sugar filled treats?  Children are the easiest guests to entertain, there is no need to give them sweets to make them happy.  My daughter is happiest in grass field with her friends where they run around, chase each other and giggle.

Some of my thoughts on an great birthday party ...