Day-to-day life – Page 4 – The SMO's stories

Day-to-day life, Family, Racing, Triathlon

But Ironman is glamourous!

June 9, 2015 Christine Cogger

Said no one training for one, ever. The chafing. Oh my lord, the chafing.

But the eating! All of the eating is glorious! And a bit exhausting.

I suppose I’ve been pretty quiet around here for the simple fact that life has been rather monotonous in its form of kids/eat/train/eat/work/train/eat/work etc… How’s that for riveting reading? Told you… all glamour, all the time.

Sidebar: did I shower today?

I’m starting to get anxious for this start line. It’s been 8 years since my last Ironman and – not unlike childbirth – I’ve kind of blocked out how hard getting ready for this thing is. I’ve been unceremoniously reminded of that fact, however, in a few of my last key workouts. Not to mention, my deep, deep desire for sleep. Case in point:

Last week, I was lying on the floor as the kids were watching a movie (apparently, it was too trying for me to heave myself onto the couch). I’m yawning and stretching, wondering aloud when the movie will end so we can call it a night.

Anja turns to me and in her 5 year old wisdom says: “Mama, it’s ok. You got to bed, we’ll tuck ourselves in.”

I suppose I needed that reminder to put on my big girl pants.

I’ve set a lofty goal for myself, one I fully intend to achieve, even if it means going way to the back of the hurt locker to get there: a Kona slot.

Doesn’t that just mean the post-race beer will taste that much better?

3 weeks to go…

It’s a family affair…

Last long ride rewarded with this delightful find on the highway!

See? Glamour. This selfie taken many, many hours post-run. Still in run clothes. Yum.

On rainy days, sometimes you just need a rescue.

So, so sick of race food. But the dog isn’t.

What these 2 think of OWS.

Day-to-day life, Kids

Riddle me this

May 14, 2015 Christine Cogger

The last few nights, we’ve been doing riddles at the dinner table. It’s pretty funny and engaging and I’ll even admit that occasionally, the kids will stump me (clearly, they’ve learned these harder ones from older kids. Ahem.)

It’s also a time when each of their personalities seem to really shine through. Anja – believe it or not – is usually quiet during these exchanges. It’s like she realizes she’s too little to get it so she just takes it all in. Will takes in each question and mulls them over with some seriousness (that, or he tries to pass of that he’s figured out the answer when in reality he knew it all along from someone else). Rory, true to form, blurts out whatever the first word is that comes to mind: “7! Blue! Crocodile! Turn left!)

Anyway, tonight? Was awesome. The tables turned, ever so slightly…

Me: “What has hands but can’t clap?”

Rory: “…”

Will: “T-REX!”

At this point, I’m pretty sure I alternately shot wine out of mine nose/choked with laughter. Because, damn if he wasn’t right.

(Clocks. The answers is clocks.)

Day-to-day life, Kids

Ratchet back the crazy, people.

May 1, 2015May 1, 2015 Christine Cogger

In light of Anja’s highly disorganized but fun birthday party a few days ago, I thought this was pretty timely. Her party had friends, cake and junk food, parents and beer, science activities and presents. Yep. Good, old fashioned presents that ranged from a plant – which she loved and cannot wait to stick in the ground – to a doll that she talks to like they are BFFs.

In my opinion, it was a great birthday for a 5 year old. But I’m biased and I digress.

A friend sent me this photo of an invitation given to one of her kids by a classmate. Behold:

Yeah.

This is a party for a 7 year old. Not a wedding, or … some other occasion where it’s appropriate to ask for money. I mean, come on. I wouldn’t even know how to respond to this! How much does Little Johnny want? Is a gift card to the Home Depot or Starbucks ok? Because I’m pretty sure no presents wasn’t his or her idea.

Maybe I’m totally wrong. Maybe Little Lisa is getting a leg up on her college savings, in which case good for her. But maybe don’t do it on the back of your classmates? Gah.

My friend is responding by not going. Which I think is brilliant.

Am I missing something? Since when has this become acceptable? Is this the new normal?

Educate me, people. Educate me.

Day-to-day life, Kids, Pemberton

A day in the life.

April 24, 2015April 24, 2015 Christine Cogger

I’m tired.

It’s been a long few weeks of juggling. It’s not a complaint, merely a statement. Much of the fatigue is my own doing, I’ll be the first to admit. I have a hard time saying no and every time I turn around, there’s something being added to the white board calendar in the kitchen.

Last week, I realized that our Wednesdays were kind of ridiculous. As I said to a friend, I organize large-scale events for a living. But ask me to organize my life so that I don’t have to be in 3 places at once? Right. I’m not one to over-program kids. I just tend to program them all on the same day #Fail.

As I drove/biked/walked to one location after another, I mentally chronicled my day. Enjoy (or don’t. This is actually kind of boring).

Boop bee boop bee boop be boop bee doop.. doop… doop… boop bee boop bee boop be boop bee doop…

Recognize that sound? It’s the iPhone signature ring-thingy set to my alarm. It’s 6:15AM. My first though is: “Can I have a nap today?”

The phone is in the kitchen. This is strategic: it will keep beep-booping until I drag myself downstairs.

I go, followed by Kobe (the dog) because there’s a 99.9% chance he will have jumped on the bed at some point while I slept.

Until the kids wake up, I enjoy the quiet house and read emails and the rest of the internet and drink my beloved coffee.

Then, the whirlwind starts. It’s a slow build… but it comes. Usually, Rory comes first – wrapped in a blankie. Anja’s next, having bellowed from bed asking for permission to get up. Will is always last on school days – he’ll need some prodding to join the fray.

Breakfast. Backpacks. Review homework. Hunt for lost socks. Repeat myself a million times over to get this or that and then, 2/3 of the off spring are out the door to walk to school. I check my watch. It’s 8:15, I have a bit of a breather before the little one goes to science. We go for a dog walk – with fake baby and little pink stroller. Our pace is not quick. Worms are collected, snails herded to the safety of the side of the trail.

We get home in time to pack snacks and go to science.

Sidebar: Anja has not stopped talking since she got up. At all. It’s like a running, completely irrelevant commentary on our day.

She goes to science in the same building as the gym so I can squeeze in those treadmill intervals I’ve been dreading.

Another sidebar: I got into run gear when I got up. Otherwise, it’s just too easy to skip. Unless I’ve sweated through everything, there’s a solid chance I’ll be peeling those same clothes off at bedtime. Gross, right?! Welcome to my real life. Take it or leave it.

I get the run done with just enough time to have a powwow with my physio who happens to be there at the same time. I’ll consider that a two-for-one because even those 5 minutes make a difference. She always makes time for me and is supremely awesome.

Collect Anja, win the argument stating that I need a shower before our errands. We go home, I shower, she – of course, keeps me company. Heaven forbid I leave her side. She continues her monologue.

I check my watch. It’s 11:20. Errands and a quick lunch stop at the bakery ensue. We take the dog – today, errands on the bike must double as his walk.

We’re home by 1. I have a list as long as my arm of work to do. Dilemma: what to do with the little one? Arts ‘n craps, for now (monologuing the whole way). I’m having a hard time concentrating after 45m and anyway, she spills food colouring everywhere, so I give up and hand her the iPad. Check the calendar to remind myself how many days before Jay returns from Asia.

What’s that sound? Oh, right. QUIET.

Text message. Zumba cancelled. Can Anja come Friday instead of this afternoon? Yes! Win! That removes one of my 3 locations. Make mental note about Friday, then remember that mental notes are useless to me – white board it is.

I check the time. 2PM. I have 1 hour before we’re off again; I power through some work, diligently avoiding the piles of laundry, the messy playroom and the dishes. Also, sad dog eyes.

We’re off again. Meet Will to pick him up from dodgeball, throw him a snack and send him to soccer. High five Rory who’s at science. We’ll be back for you, buddy (mental note: don’t forget Rory).

Shit. Dinner. I check the time: 4:45PM. Mile One, my non-negotiable, go-to best-ever dinner option on Wednesdays is closed for 2 weeks for their (very well deserved) spring break. Decide to try to recreate their burgers at home. Whip to grocery store. Least favourite place.

I check the time. 5:02PM. Oops, I’m late to get Rory. Pick him up with apologies. He doesn’t seem to care. Dodged that bullet.

Home by 5:30PM. Wonder how people who live in big cities with full-time jobs and deal with traffic do this. At least most of my commuting is by bike or foot. I bow to you. Truly.

Throw together dinner (burgers are ok but the house smells like bacon, so… win?), break up fights, send kids to trampoline in what appears to be a huge windstorm. Oh well. They likely won’t get blown away. I hope.

Will’s dropped off by friends (thank you – it really does take a village otherwise I’d burn dinner even more quickly than usual) and we have a quick dinner, reciting “Apples and Onions” and reviewing our day. Kids have showers (cue: FIGHT) and we get ready to watch “Modern Family”, my one nod to TV for them during the week; I don’t really care if it’s age appropriate or not, we like it. And I barely have to explain gay marriage. Another win.

We sink into couches, and sure enough, minutes in, the doorbell rings. Neighbours want to play. It’s like a cavalcade down the stairs.

Sidebar: Anja: “Go without me! I’ll meet you there! I’m just getting underwear!” It sounds a lot like “Save Yourselves!”

I’d say it’s quiet in the house as they play with friends in the yard, but it’s just as loud when there are 8 kids on a tramp 10 feet away.

While they are outside, I do my core stabilization exercises. And have a glass of wine. At the same time. How’s that for stable?

8 o’clock comes, the gang disperses, Modern Family gets watched, kids finally go to bed. And you know what?

So do I.

I think I’ve found the missing link in my training. How do you spell “Recovery”?

Day-to-day life, Family, Kids

My dilemma.

April 8, 2015 Christine Cogger

I’m the first to admit that I loathe the homework that the kids bring home from school. I grew up going to a small, rural school and never had homework until grade 7. When we got off the school bus, we spent our time playing outside when the weather was good, doing who-knows-what when it wasn’t.

At this age, I don’t see much value in the homework the boys get assigned (except for reading – we do that every night because, well, it’s a pretty basic skill and we like doing it together). It’s also a bit ridiculous to me that the 1st grader has WAY more work than the 3rd grader, but that’s not really the issue here.

It’s spring now and the weather has turned for the better; the days are longer and it’s as if all the kids on the street have discovered that they have neighbours their own age. On any given afternoon, there’s anywhere from 3 to a dozen or more kids running around, playing on trampolines, zipping through each other’s backyards and just generally being kids… outside.

No, as a matter of fact I cannot name all of these children.

Herein lies my dilemma.

Should I be *that mom* who does the “responsible adult thing”, and calls them in early so that they can sit down (again) and do homework for 30 minutes, or do I ignore the stack of workbooks and teacher’s notes and let them stay outside and burn off more of the endless energy they seem to possess?

Maybe it’s my own laziness coming though, but lately I’m far more inclined to let them skip it and play outside till it’s almost too dark to see… Maybe we can save the homework for rainy days.

After all, sometimes it’s nice to be the “Fun Mom”.

Nothing to see here... Except maybe those damn abs. — Nothing to see here… Except maybe those damn abs.

This one is just going to add more homework to the pile!

Day-to-day life, Racing, Random, Triathlon

What’s in your bag?

February 4, 2015 Christine Cogger

I was thumbing through some crappy magazine in the checkout line at the grocery store the other night and read one of those “What’s in your bag” articles (and I use the term “article” very, very lightly here).

I scoffed at how totally ridiculous this list was because, mainly, it was way too perfect. I challenge anyone to upend a bag they use consistently and not find an old balled up kleenex, a wrapper of something or a pen that doesn’t work. These perfectly styled layouts? Not my reality.

Let’s start with the fact that the bag I carry most often is a GIGANTIC backpack that doubles as carryall, locker room, computer bag and mobile snack station.

While it’s big enough to carry pretty much everything I own, I know that I look like a kindergardener trundling along on her first day of school when I wear it. I also realize that should I fall over backwards while wearing it when it’s fully full, it might be Game Over.

Since I am currently training for Ironman (and stuff) and spending a few days a week out of the house away from a home base, I tend to rely on this bag more frequently than usual. So I thought I’d play the game with myself.

“Christine, what’s in your bag?”

Well, let’s see, shall we? (Dumps bag on kitchen floor).

Damp bathing suit + towel;
Swim bag with all manner of swim toys;
Anja’s swim goggles (huh);
2 pairs of running shoes;
Trucker hat, running toque, favourite Planks toque;
Running shorts (forgotten in there from Friday’s workout. Gross.)
5 socks;
3 pairs of underwear: 2 of mine, 1 of Anja’s (useful!);
iPod. Battery dead. Typical.
2 pairs of earbuds;
2 shirts;
1 pair of tights;
Sunglasses (it’s been raining for daaaaaaays);
Running jacket;
$2.85 in change;
A bag of training food;
Water bottle;
A ziploc bag with 2 dates;
Toothbrush;
3 gym pass cards (so THAT’S where they were!)
Travel toiletry kit;
2 sports bras;
Laptop;
Nok anti-chafe cream;
Dry shampoo;
Day planner + pen;
Watch;
2 headbands, countless bobby pins and 7 elastics (and I don’t really tie my hair up).
3 lip balms;
Lots of bits of gravel.

My stylist quit moments after this dumping occurred.

I guess I’ll never get a page in Fashion magazine. But I bet you’re all dying to know what I’d answer to the paparazzi yelling: “Christine, Christine! Who are you wearing?!”

I’ll spare you.

Day-to-day life, Kids

#ParentFail

December 29, 2014 Christine Cogger

Tonight was my dad’s last night in town, so rather than make dinner at home we figured we’d enjoy dinner out.

Despite having been skiing for most of the day, the kids were fairly wired in the late afternoon – wrestling, yelling, jumping… the usual, really. After many requests to get dressed, put coats on, stop hitting your brother/sister/self, we were finally streaming out the door to the truck.

Standing at the door of the truck, the boys were still bickering and I lost my temper. I grabbed each one by an arm (or maybe the scruff of their necks? Who can remember, really) and marched them back into the house. I stood in the door and told them that I was done, I didn’t care what they did and that we were going out for dinner without them. I turned on my heel and slammed the door.

Now, normally, in situations like these (what — you think I’ve never made this threat before?) one or both of them come barreling behind me with tears in their eyes, begging some form of forgiveness and blaming the other for “starting it.” End of story, usually.

This time, it was eerily quiet as I walked back to the truck. I told Jay to wait a minute – I wanted to “teach the boys a lesson.”

Oh, such famous last words.

Jay said, “Get in the truck, we’ll drive away, they’ll think we’ve gone and that will teach them”, or something to that effect. And so we did. We drove a few hundred meters from the house but… nothing happened. The front door remained closed and the TV remained off (we know, because we can see it from the road). Back to the driveway we go, I tell Jay to go in and get the boys and tell them that “Mum is too mad to come and get you.”

Right about now, the term “backfire” starts to come to mind…

As Jay quietly crept up the stairs, he could hear a very important conversation happening:

“Ok, so what goes in a Mr. Spiff sandwich? Ham! Ok, got that. Where’s the mayo? Oh, here! Do you think we need relish? I dunno – grab it anyway.”

In those few minutes we’d left them to “learn their lesson”, they’d decided they were going to make sandwiches (although they said they wanted spaghetti but didn’t know how to work the microwave for leftovers), have gingerbread cookies for dessert and then watch TV till we got back from dinner. In their minds, a perfect night.

So yes, someone learned their lesson tonight. I learned not to underestimate my boys independence and resourcefulness.

Day-to-day life, Kids, Pemberton

“And the Mother of the Year Award goes to…”

November 20, 2014November 21, 2014 Christine Cogger

Although none of the kids really ride in it much anymore, we have an old, beat-down Chariot stroller that has seen better days. More often than not, it ferries around backpacks and picnics instead of children. It’s dinged up, dirty and usually at least 2 of 3 tires are flat.

On Hallowe’en night a few weeks ago, we took it with us for Trick or Treating to haul coats, blankets, tired kids and of course, beer. Because Trick or Treating in Pemberton without beer for weary parents is like Trick or Treating without candy for hyper kids. Walking the kids to school the following week, I’d noticed an empty Corona bottle left over in one of the back pouches but quickly forgot about it. I’ll toss it when I get home, I’d told myself.

This morning, Anja and I walked to her Nature Camp and I left the Chariot there, knowing I’d return at the end of the day to collect it, and her. Nothing unusual there, that old Chariot gets left in a lot of places.

As I walked down the path this afternoon, I heard her friends shriek “Anja, she’s HERE! HIDE IT! NO, SHOW HER!”

Isn’t that sweet, I thought. She must have made some nice craft for me. I felt all warm and fuzzy inside.

As she came peeling up the path towards me at full speed, I noticed something in her hand. Was that… could that be… Oh. My. God. My 4 year old is giving me back my own empty beer bottle. AWESOME. How quickly the warm and fuzzies get replaced by the shame and mortification.

But wait! It gets better.

“MAMA! Look! We found the beer bottle in the stroller and there’s a DEAD MOUSE IN IT!”

That’s right. A dead mouse.

I was torn between being totally and completely grossed out to being in awe of this 4 year old little blond sprite who thought it was the coolest discovery EVER.

“Mama! Look at his feet! Aren’t they cute? And look at the tail, it’s so long! How do you think it got in here?”

And on and on it went. Clutched in her lap, we had to take the empty Corona and it’s petrified contents to show her brothers and friends at school before we could properly dispose of it.

Amazingly, it didn’t take much to convince her to toss him when we got home (though she tipped the bottle over and tried to shake him out, first).

“That was such a fun show and tell, Mama.”

Lest you think I make this shit up, behold Mickey in his watery grave.

Shall I clear a spot off the mantle for my award?

Day-to-day life, Running, Travel

Multi-sport birthday weekend.

September 20, 2014 Christine Cogger

I celebrated my birthday last weekend. Contrary to popular belief, I did not actually turn 24. In fact, I’ve officially jumped into a whole new decade, an entirely new age group. When I confessed my real age to Will, the look of abject horror on his face was pretty priceless. Almost worth the price of my confession, I’d say.

You’d think he’d have figured out that I wasn’t 24 when one of his pals said to me “oh, so that means you graduated from high school 5 years ago?”

Busted.

Anyway, we filled the weekend the best way we know how: with sport.

Sport #1. A 6 year old boy’s birthday party.

Ok, so while this isn’t “technically” a sport, when it was over I felt as tired as if I’d run 2 marathons. Clearly, I did not fuel properly. Maybe I should have backed away from the MnMs.

The noise level was on par with that of a WWF match (I’m guessing here, having never actually been to one). A recovery session was required by all.

Sport #2. Terry Fox Run

The most important run of the year. I’ve done it every year since living on the West Coast and I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon. It’s very, very important to me and my kids know it. They are starting to feel the same way. Granted, we don’t go far and some of the kids ride bikes, but we are out there supporting a very good cause.

Sport #3. Defeat the Duffey.

Sure, let’s pick an afternoon where it’s 30C to ride straight uphill for 65 minutes. Fun! It was hard and I loved it. But damn if Paul didn’t win for the 3rd year in a row. I have no idea how that’s even possible. I’d call him a cheater if I could figure out a way that cheating is possible.

–

Celebrations continue this week as I am in Maui with a group of the best friends a girl could ask for. Far be it from us to plan a trip without a race, we’ll be starting the Maui 1/2 marathon on Sunday.

At 5am.

In the dark.

I haven’t run a quick step since Challenge Penticton. This ought to be interesting.

I’d post lots of pictures of what we’re doing here, but that would just be cruel.

Aloha!

Day-to-day life, Kids, Pemberton

Hot.

August 5, 2014 Christine Cogger

Nobody likes to read about the weather, myself included. But I’m going to write about the weather anyway, since it seems to be the only thing anyone up here is talking about. Apologies if you live in a part of the country where it’s been raining 24/7… but for the last 10 days or so, Pemberton has been somewhat comparable to the surface of the sun.

Personally, I like it. I may not like it as much when I’m trying to sleep, but it’s been back-to-back days of lake time, a steady diet of freezies and popsicles, workouts in the heat of the day where your body just doesn’t sweat because it’s too damn hot.

And to think… in 2 months it’ll probably be snowing.