Radio Silence

I can't recall whether or not I've told you that I worked for a radio station in college. 

It was one of those moments in life where I was sure that I wanted to work for a radio station after graduation and about 3 months into the job realized that it wasn't the career for me.

But it was a great job for a college senior with a flexible schedule and a healthy love of country music.

I was broke and the job came with some awesome perks, like meeting all of the acts of Country Thunder one year.

And some not so awesome moments, like drinking so much Fuze outside of a car dealership in the 120 degree heat that I had to excuse myself to throw up in the bathroom.

Haven't touched one of those drinks since that day, and just seeing the bottle makes me minorly ill.

I had an awesome coworker and we had some damn good times.

Besides the Fuze, another aversion I acquired because of that job was an aversion for people who call radio stations. 

Look, I get it, DJs rely on idiots to call them to interact and make the show. However, nothing makes me cringe more than listening to the radio and hearing some jackass of a person call into the radio station for no apparent reason.

Seriously, get a life. Radio DJs are not your friends. Unless they are your friends, in which case you can call them on their cell phones because you have that number.

Last week as I was driving to M-town for Biggie's graduation the DJs were asking callers questions from some list titled, "Things Every American Should Know." Or something like that.

And grown adults were calling in and answering the questions in the most asinine way that I wanted to drive my car off a bridge.

DJ: Name one country that borders the United States.
Caller: Europe?

DJ: Who was the first man to walk on the moon?
Caller: Louie Armstrong. No wait, Lance Armstrong.

Seriously, I can not make this up.

As one of my favorite quotes says, Better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak and to remove all doubt.

They Say It's Your Birthday...

It's my birthday too now!

I'm 32 years old today.

And outside of the lingering pain in my right hip, I feel better than I can ever remember!

(I'm going to see someone about that hip.)

I have decided that this year will be the year of fitness for me.

Kind of like I was born in the year of the Rooster - this year I will live the year of fitness.

For that reason, I started today with a bikram yoga class.

I'm not going to lie to you - I didn't love it. But I didn't outright hate it either.

I am going back tomorrow and hopefully the stretching will help my mobility in CrossFit and I'll see improvements there.

I'll keep you updated.

Then I went to my parents' house and ate a paleo Samoa donut for breakfast...

It was delicious and Match is the best mom EVER for making them for me!

After coming home for a quick shower, I headed back to Match and Papa's house for my birthday party.

When Biggie arrived, he gave me the card that he made me, and made me cry!

Besides the fact that I am the best "ant" ever. It says that "you look beautiful how you are now."

Seriously, I'm not quite sure he could have written anything more wonderful in that card.

All of the gifts and cards that I received were wonderful, but that card and the one behind it from Tiny are two that I will cherish forever!

Tiny Adventures

Biggie is a proud graduate

On Thursday, Biggie "graduated" from kindergarten and on Friday, Tiny "graduated" from preschool. So I planned to spend the two days in M-Town with the Smalls Family.

After graduation on Thursday, I told the boys that I would take them bowling as their gift from me. Turns out, I'm a pretty good bowler, but that's another story for another day.

Each time it was my turn to bowl, if I didn't bowl a strike with the first ball, Tiny would pat me on the leg as I got my second ball and he would say, "You can do this, Aunt Airplane, I believe in you."

Tiny is ready for bowling! I told him he needed to bring socks. He preferred to put them on with his crocs.

I mean really - could this kid be any more adorable?

The answer to that question, is yes.

Because before we left for bowling, we were all hanging out in the living room when Tiny asked me: "Aunt Airplane, are you old enough to buy kids?"

Me: Ummm - yeah, I guess so.

Tiny: You should get some.

Me: If I have kids, I won't be able to spend as much time with you.

Tiny: Yeah, because I can just come to your house.

Me: Tiny, you can come to my house now.

Tiny: No, only if you have kids.

About ten minutes laters he was in the kitchen with Sissy and he said, "Mom, should we get Aunt Airplane some kids?"

###

On Friday afternoon I told the boys that I would go swimming with them. Biggie and I had already gotten into the pool and it was COLD!

So, finally Tiny comes out ready to swim and he steps onto the first step and says, "Are you kidding me? It is f**king cold!"

###

And just because - here is a random picture of BabyBunner and me.

BabyBunner is quite possibly the most serious child on the planet.

"You Don't Have to Find Out You're Dying to Start Living"

There is a good chance that you already saw that video on Facebook. I think that every person I know posted it today.

Luckily for me, I waited until I returned home from work to watch it, because I cried like a baby watching it.

When his little sister was talking, I lost it.

I loved it at the beginning when he said, "I want everyone to know that you don't have to find out you're dying to start living."

Again, something that seems so simple, and we need reminding.

I need reminding.

And I need help.

Because as simple as it is, it is also very difficult.

So when I finished watching, I stopped talking and started doing.

I signed up for a sprint triathlon and looked up a training program.

On Sunday, September 22, I will be on Fiesta Island in San Diego, swimming, biking, and running.

And possibly passing out.

But definitely finishing.

And absolutely living.

Training will officially begin on June 3.

In the meantime, I need to find a pool to swim in. And a bike to ride.

And my sanity.

Color Me Impressive

CrossFit Regionals officially began this past Friday. Strangely enough, the Southern California regionals were held at the Del Mar Fairground, and I was not too far away from there for a short little vacation.

I actually thought about cruising down to the fairgrounds just to walk around to the booths outside the venue to pick up some Paleo treats, but alas, I did not.

Yes, I do realize I am crazy.

So anyway, regionals means that for the next couple of weekends I will spend more time than usual in front of my computer watching a live feed of athletes doing things that I only wish I could do.

Case in point:

I dream about climbing a rope like Lindsey Valenzuela.

Either way, watching these athletes makes me realize that there are about a million things that I can't do in the CrossFit world.

As if he read my  mind, this morning, during our warm-up my coach made me feel a lot better about myself.

We were warming up our shoulders for overhead squats with handstand holds and strict handstand push-ups to whatever depth we could do.

Mine are pretty shallow, but I can get a little bend in my elbows.

When everyone was standing back up after the warm-up, the coach said, "You may not be the best at those. You may not be Rich Froning or Annie Thorisdottir, but 99% of the people in the world would be very impressed by what you just did there."

I know I talk a lot about remembering where I started, but it is too easy to lose sight of that. 

Not just in CrossFit, but in everything we put any effort into, we need to remember that progress is progress. Sometimes baby steps are the best steps we can take.

Sad News

I try not to get too serious on here too often, but in light of yesterday's post and some information that I received today, I just had to post this.

First of all, a very good friend of mine revealed to me recently that she and her husband have been trying to get pregnant for a number of years with no success. In the past 12 months, they have seen numerous doctors and taken countless tests. They still have no answers.

There hasn't been a result that points to a reason they haven't been able to conceive. There are no obvious reasons for their troubles. So they remain frustrated, but hopeful.

A few weeks ago, a sorority sister of mine posted on Facebook that she and her husband were very excited to announce that they were expecting twins (a boy and a girl) some time this summer. From her post, I gathered that they had difficulty getting pregnant and were elated that they were going to start their family.

On Mother's Day, she posted that she had gone into labor early with the twins and the boy didn't make it. His sister was still fighting though, and she asked for prayers. I immediately said a prayer and contacted another sorority sister to make sure she had seen the post.

Today, the sister that I had alerted texted me that they had lost their little girl. On Mother's Day she had taken a turn for the worse and it was apparent that she was not going to recover, so they had to make the decision to take her off of the ventilator.

This is a faithful couple and I am certain that they said many prayers in the time leading up to making their decision, but I just can not wrap my brain around what they must be feeling right now.

In addition, Tela, who is a teacher at a valley high school, posted that they had tragically lost a student from their high school over the weekend. A 17-year-old boy was killed when he fell out of the back of a truck while playing a silly game with friends.

I am certain that the rewards of being a parent far outweigh the risks of losing a child at any point in your life, but I am admittedly scared.

There is so much out of our control.

The world is a scary place. And it's getting scarier.

Nothing is promised.

And all too often I take too much for granted.

I need to be better about expressing my feelings.

About making sure that my loved ones know how I feel.

Tomorrow is not promised.

TMI, Friends. TMI.

I don't if we've had this talk before, but I'm leaning over the no side of the "ever having kids fence." I will be honest with you, I teeter a little. There are times when I think I would love to have kids, but those times are far outweighed by the times that I love silence. 

I obviously don't have to make the ultimate decision right now, so we're golden for the moment.

However, a large group of my friends have made that decision for themselves and babies are popping out at alarming rates.

Seriously, it is getting nutty and shows no signs of stopping.

A number of months ago, BigSurprise told me that she was expecting. A super exciting announcement considering what she went through to get there.

A bit after that reveal, she sent me a picture of an ultrasound and asked me what I saw.

Now, I won't lie to you, I'm REAL bad at reading ultrasounds! In college, I took a Reproductive Physiology class for the Animal Science portion of my major (and because I worked for the professor, so it was an easy way to get a good grade.) For an extra credit, you could take the lab. Which I did because I had a major crush on the TA. For that reason, I chose to join the group that was going to AI a horse, just because he was leading that group. (I know, I know. I had problems. Trust me, if you saw what this guy looked like, you would call a doctor for me immediately!)

Anyway, as part of the experiment we would have to ultrasound the horse like weekly or some such business. And every week, TA would ask what we saw on the screen. I never saw anything. Sometimes, I would just guess what we were supposed to see and yell out "follicle" or something. Seriously, it just looks like white noise to me.

But even with that kind of ultrasound history, I saw two babies on that picture and I almost died! 

Fast forward to a couple of months ago, and IT tells me that she's pregnant. And then a couple of weeks ago when she tells me that there are two babies in there.

So, two friends, with no history of twins in their families, and taking no fertility meds, are pregnant with twins.

What is going on in this world?!?!?

Apparently, (according to both of their doctors) once you hit 30, your chances of dropping multiple eggs increases. 

I'm about to hit 32 in a couple of weeks - my mind is quickly being made up!

What I Need

'Twas the night before CrossFit and dark in the house,

But what was that sound, it squeaked like a mouse.

The alarm was set for the crack of dawn with care,

Class starts at 5am, and I have to be there.

So I was nestled all snug in my bed,

When the fire alarm battery alerted "I'm dead."

I tried to ignore it and continue my nap,

But that damn chirping sound just wouldn't stop.

Out of bed, I reluctantly clatter,

And head to the garage, I now need the ladder.

Back to the bedroom I return with a crash,

To change the battery in this piece of trash.

Task complete, it's back to bed I go,

But sleep would elude me, wouldn't you know.

All of the sudden my answer appeared,

I need a battery that lasts for ten years.

Girl, Put Your Records On

As I was driving down the road with my parents yesterday, we saw a billboard advertising a Chubby Checker concert.

So, of course, I started singing, "Let's twist again, like we did last summer. Oh, let's twist again, like we did last year."

Which transported me back to my childhood and Aunt Dood's* living room, where we used to play that record a lot.

Yes, that's right - I said record.

Aunt Dood had an old time record player and some old time records and we would put those bad boys on and dance around the living room like it was our job. 

One of our favorites was I Never Promised You A Rose Garden. I'm telling you, we played that song over and over and over. We had a dance routine made up to that song and we would perform it for anyone who would sit still long enough to watch it.

And we had skills.

We used to make up dance routines all the time! It is amazing that none of us became a choreographer. 

We had dance routines to the records. We had dance routines around the pool (that sometimes turned into synchronized swimming routines). Sissy, Shosh, and I had the Sister Act routine down to a science.

Even the boys were down with the funk. After watching Only the Strong, Bunner and Prince William would spend hours on the trampoline playing the soundtrack and practicing their capoeira moves. 

It kind of makes me sad that kids these days sit around on computers and video games and are missing out on all of the awesomeness that was my childhood.