Run, Cheri, run...

Since New Years I have been keeping a schedule of two days on, one day off, running a three mile loop in my hood. My husband , I can tell, is pretty amazed. I haven't run in years. Like maybe eight years. Maybe ten, but who's counting? Don't be too amazed yourself, I haven't made a full three miles yet, but I am well over two and with some power walking in between, getting a decent workout. Now, if we could demolish the rest of these Christmas treats, I might actually be losing weight too, but that is another story.

My mind is chattering away as I run, trying to keep up a good pace and rhythmic breathing. Oh my God, I think, will I make it to 30th Street? But then, after a few days, 30th rolls by and I have to set up a new goal so that I am sure to make the full length in a few weeks. The trick is, I can't look all the way down the street or I just want to give up, but looking right in front of me makes me a little queasy. So I pick a spot just ahead, but not too far.

Isn't that how life is? Look too far ahead and it seems impossible. Too close and it seems pointless. So, you pick a place in between and shoot for that. Somehow you get there and then eventually, you look back and realize you ran the whole damn route.

Peace out

When I imagined having children, I knew there would be some sacrifices. I accepted the fact that many of my Friday and Saturday nights would be spent at home. I temporarily put aside plans to travel overseas, and traded backpacking across the Irish countryside for walks around the neighborhood wearing a baby bjorn. I even shifted my career to accommodate a family life by working out a part time work week. What I couldn't have imagined or planned for are the millions of little indignities that must be endured to care for little human beings.

Today, the Little Guy and I made a trip to the grocery store. Things were going well. He was happily sitting in the cart singing and babbling and munching on crackers. I had a huge list and was relieved to only have one child with me since Girlie was back to school. About halfway through the store, I started feeling a little rumble in my tummy. Ignoring it, I pushed on determined to restock our pantry and finish my shopping. Several aisles later, I realized that I had two options: use the bathroom at the grocery store or abandon my cart full of groceries and pray I made it home in time. Not sure I could make it home anyway, I decided to use the bathroom at the store. Since I couldn't take my cart in with me, and an empty cart wouldn't fit through the entryway to the bathroom, I had no choice but to unbuckle my Little Guy and take him in with me.

I might have asked for help, but I didn't see anyone nearby to lend a hand. I wasn't sure what would be worse, taking him by myself or asking for help only to have someone standing nearby listening to the inevitable explosion I could feel brewing in my lower extremities. So I was by myself, cramps and all, in the grocery store bathroom with the 17 month old squirming destructoboy. And that is pretty much what gets me the most about being a Mom. I never counted on discarding my dignity to orchestrate a much needed trip to the bathroom while trying to prevent my youngest from touching the shiny box attached to the stall wall, pulling all the toilet paper off the roll, or worst of all, crawling out from under the stall leaving me stranded. I know one day I will be able to look back at this and laugh, especially after that same child backs the family car into a mailbox, or shows up with suspiciously red eyes after a night out with friends. But for now, I long for the days when I can just poop in peace.

Roar!

My little people are tucked in bed and I am off the clock, so to speak. Hubs left today for a four day business trip and I am utterly exhausted. Girlie had a Brownie badge ceremony tonight, so I had to pick up new khaki's (managed to stick to our plan, more about that later), supervise homework, feed everyone dinner, bake a dessert, and take the Little Guy with us during a time when he is usually being tucked into bed. I don't like to take him out that late in the evening, but my sitter was busy, so we just had to roll with it. The woman hosting the event had a giant uncovered pool in her back yard, right next to where we were supposed to sit and watch the candlelight awards ceremony. Fantastic. I pulled it off, but barely.

I am already in my jammies and planning crawl to the couch and flop down in front of some mindless television. Maybe John and Kate Plus 8 can inspire me to get through the next few days on my own. I don't know how parents with more than two children make it. Once you are outnumbered, things get a little wild. It's a jungle around here and I am just going to try to get through the next few days without eating my young...

The Subcompact - a little experiment

For about a year now I have been fascinated with the concept of The Compact. It was started in San Francisco several years ago by a group of people who wanted to make a real change in their environmental impact. They made a pact not to buy anything new for an entire year. The exceptions included food, medicine, and underwear. Everything else they needed had to be borrowed or purchased used. They felt that consumption was the ultimate cause of our environmental problems and wanted to take a very hard core look at how much waste they produced in a years time by purchasing new things.

This year, Hubs and I are doing a slightly modified version of this, which we have dubbed The Subcompact. Like the original group, we will not buy new items for a time period. We are not going to be as hard core as the original group.

The Subcompact Rules are:

1. No new non consumable items for ourselves. This includes home decor, fashion, etc. Exceptions will be made for new running shoes and anything safety related (bike tires, car parts, etc.). Food and consumables like toilet paper, printer ink, or household cleaning products are not included.
2. We plan on somewhat excluding the kids from this experiment. We'll try to buy used items for the kids when possible (the little guy has been getting hand me downs from girlfriends since he was born anyway), but we won't limit ourselves entirely on things like shoes or birthday presents.
3. We are also going to reduce the amount of time to six months. If we make it that far, we'll evaluate where we are and whether we want to continue another six months.

We're trying this for several reasons beyond the obvious environmental benefits. The first is that we already have too much stuff. This became very clear when we moved this year and watched box after box of our possessions being packed onto a truck. I owned at least three sets of plates, not including the set of family china. We have been weeding through our things in order to lighten the load a little, but I still feel like we could do better. Second, money is a little tight this year and I would like to see how much money I can scrape together by not picking up that random new t-shirt at target. I'll bet it is enough to pay for a great trip to California this summer. Third, we are trying to get some time back. Time spent shopping, unwrapping, hanging, and shuffling around new stuff could be spent writing, relaxing, spending time together. Finally, I am hoping to tap in to the spiritual aspects of limiting my purchases. Being forced to buy something used will make me stop and think about whether I really need it. I think we have all taken part in the orgy of spending prevalent during the last decade and I need a break from it.

For me personally, the hardest part will be recycling my summer wardrobe or passing by those cute couch pillows on sale at Anthropologie. When the new stuff appears in stores and magazines, I get a little weak kneed. But the truth is, I have tons of summery clothes in my closet, sandals stacked high, and plenty of cute accessories both for me and my home from the business I just sold. It should be enough and I don't need more.

I'll keep you posted on our progress. Wish me luck!

This just in...

A 36 year old mother of two collapsed in the yard of her central Phoenix home today. She was found by her husband and children who promptly called 911. When paramedics arrived, the woman could be heard muttering "3 mile run... cookies." Medical professionals were able to revive her, but she is listed in critical condition...

Um, not really, but kind of...