The right fit,

I’ve been looking for two things lately; a jogging bra, and jogging shoes. Simple? No.

After trying on twenty styles and sizes of jogging bras I take one to the store attendant and ask if she has it in a different size. I also mention that the one I tried has a flaw, being that one cup is puckered from being miss-sewn. She then (with what seemed to be great pleasure) pronounced me “unequal” literally! When I decidedly disagree, noting the obvious pucker in the stitching (only on the one side) and that it has never before been an issue, she (unfortunately) became more excited. She was then determined to tell me her interesting bit of knowledge on the subject.

I won’t bore you with exactly how she learned what and from whom and when. Truthfully I was so dumbfounded over her initial comment, and exuberance with which she rapidly described the rest, that I only got the gist anyhow.

So here it is; if a woman is lopsided, that is being larger on one side than the other (which I’m not!), it is due to one of her fathers testicles being larger than the other. “Wow” you say, but wait, there’s more. Whether you see the cup as half full or half empty (pardon the pun) the women in question will also be bigger or smaller on the same side the testicle is!

Is this a bunch of rubbish? Dad, please don’t answer this one.

All in all, I found a good jog bra made by Moving Comfort called the Fiona bra but I’m thinking a different style called the Maia might solve the subtle u-na-boob problem I have with the Fiona. I’m still struggling with the shoes, even though the Foot Zone in Bellevue has been great with accommodating me. One foot does well while the other is always uncomfortable. Any suggestions?

What a charmer!

Tonight we worked on “experiments” in the lab (bathroom). We used pipettes, sorting cups, plastic test tubes, micro plates (for mixing), crystals, and colorants.

We’d been at it for some time (2 hours?) when Isaac announced that I should continue the “practice” whilst he moves on to bigger and better things. I reminded him that all great scientists complete what they’ve started (that means - Clean your own mess!). He said “Oh! yes” and when he finished, I told him what a terrific scientist he’s been! He left the bathroom with shoulders back, chest out, large smile, and noticeable swagger.

He swaggered all the way to the kitchen in search of the next great project. He opened the cupboard door, turned to look at me over his shoulder then said “I AM a good scientist!....and you’re a pretty cute scientist”

He got a good laugh for that one, a big hug, a dozen kisses, and might have been able to get ice cream for dinner (good thing he wanted pasta).

Advice for living with a little scientist:
Anything not out of reach is fair game. Expensive perfumes add just the right smell to your potions, special creams make for the perfect consistency, and jewelry creates a nice sound when you mix it all together.

"I" for Isaac

Isaac loves drawing the letter “I”. He draws it on anything!

‘I’ for his artwork, for my check book, tax papers, grocery list, the many greetings he writes, the kitchen floor when there’s no room left on his paper, 'STOP, those are books!', ‘I’ for his calendar, and perhaps other places I’ve yet to notice.

Here’s one; how about ‘I’ for I LOVE YOU!

Though he likes drawing the letter ‘I’ he’s also good with all the other letters of his name! He gets stumped on the shift from a to c but almost has it fluidly!

On remembering,

Have you ever isolated your earliest childhood memory? I've found that my earliest memories are somehow the most vivid. This then leads me to wonder what bits and pieces Isaac will remember.

Today I carried him as we walked back from school; his legs wrapped around my waist, hands cradling my face. I was in a great mood, he was in a great mood, he said “I love you mommy you’re the best” and smushed his face into mine. He gave me a big raspberry on the cheek which made us laugh, and then put another on the other side which made us laugh even more. We continued this way until we were absolutely silly with laughter and when I caught my breath and looked at this beautiful boy, I thought ‘will you remember this? will you?’

The camera doesn’t capture enough, and usually misses the best spontaneous moments. So there are many other times when I ask myself the same question, ‘will I remember this?’

When you first hold your newborn you say “this is a moment I’ll never forget.” Then they grow and you hold someone else’s newborn and think “was he ever this small?”

I spent a great deal of my 20’s thinking of things I’d like to forget. Now I find myself desperately hoping that for the rest of my days my memory remains intact.

How far is a mile...

A mile can be too far if the thing you desire most is at its end though if you want it badly enough you’ll cover many of these.

And to a child, to Isaac, a mile consists of everything in between. At some point I realized that ‘getting to school’ meant different things for us. For me the distance between here and there was merely the distance from A to B. Where and when I started thinking that way I know not, for it hasn’t always been so. Well, to accommodate Isaac’s most wonderful view of a mile, I give us an extra 10 minutes and don’t worry about it.

For the last five months we’ve taken the same path to and from school. And here is what we see: pavement; dry, wet, cracked, smooth, different, new, old, covered in Autumn leaves (what kinds we ask and take samples), snow covered (look at the different stages of snow to ice to water and listen to it, the snow sounds differently when its lofty, slushy, or icy). The pavement is now covered with the detritus of spring encasements and we examine the different buds. If there’s a bug, it gets noticed. Birds get listened to. Flowers get smelled and people greeted. He seemed genuinely impressed by the difference in size of the same seed pods we saw twirling to the ground in autumn, now sprouted next to their full grown versions.

I’m very grateful for these little lessons he unknowingly teaches. That life, like a mile, should be cherished with every step, little things noticed, and people greeted, with time taken to smell the flowers.

you're only young once

Today after we’d been home from school awhile, Isaac undressed in preparation for his sprint to the bathroom, then did so. There was a bit more noise than usual so I decided to check. When entering I was hit with a pungent odor and my eyes were met with a sight to match. There upon the floor was a displaced pile of toilet paper and Isaac standing in the tub covered in foamy soap. ‘Isaac’ I say ‘what’s going on?’ He says “way-ell (in his best southern drawl) I was trying to get to the toilet but couldn’t quite make it” ‘oh’ I say ‘why couldn’t you?’ “I had a pain in my belly, just here (he points)” ‘way-ell’ I say in my best attempt to mimic him, ‘go ahead and finish in the tub and I’ll get the floor cleaned.' He thanked me (sweet boy that he is) and returned to getting himself scrubbed.

Now mind you, I really couldn’t see how the extremely large, soft, pungent, pile of poop wasn’t able to reach the preferred goal, and the smell was something else! So my response to what I discovered next surprised me. Firstly let me say that I was very touched by his efforts to cover it with tissue in what he claims was his attempt to clean it up. But when I lifted the first layers of tissue what I saw made me laugh. In fact I laughed so hard that I inhaled too much of the odiferous air and had to leave the room quickly to keep from gagging.

There are some things you can only do in childhood…. because that’s the only time you’ll allow yourself to do them.

Beneath the top tissues was an initial layer and imprinted on these were a pair of foot prints perfectly placed up to the ankle bones. The warm squishy mass was too much to resist. At least he covered it first! That’s my boy.
I later bought him silly putty.

"Priorities"

I noticed this quote newly hung on the school wall after dropping Isaac off:

A century from now it will not matter what kind of car I drove, what kind of house I lived in, or how much money I had in the bank... But one hundred years from now the world may be a better place, because I was important in the life of a child.

Well, I could easily turn this into a site of favorite quotes. Some days, notes of encouragement or advice are more welcomed than others, and seeing this today was nice indeed.

I love you every day

It’s not easy being a mom... Come to think of it, it’s not easy being a sister either, or a sister in law, daughter, grand daughter, niece, cousin, friend, volunteer, just as I’m sure it’s not easy being a son, or a brother, sister in law, parent, grandmother, aunt, uncle, cousin, friend, organizer, ect.
So sometimes it’s not easy and I’m not always good at it. Sometimes words or actions fail me, but know this; that I love you every day. And sometimes that’s all I can do, but it’s the one thing that never fails.