This Experiment Was Too Cold
My friend B is a real life Wonder Woman. Girl has five kids (stranger: “Are those ALL yours?” B: “No, I picked up a couple extra because going to the grocery store with five toddlers is FUN.”) and she runs a tight ship. Her house runs like the Von Trapps’ minus the curtains and the Nazis. So when I saw her toting her kids in a bike trailer/baby bike seat I had to try it. I mean, what a great idea! Not only are you saving gas and getting exercise but hey – doesn’t that count as An Official Learning Experience for the kiddos? It’s practically just bumpy preschool.
So when I found a bike trailer for $15 at a garage sale, I called it Kismet and took the thing on its inaugural voyage that very day. Seeing as the only biking I do is in Spin Class on a stationary bike in an air conditioned room, I probably should have thought things through a little better but I am impetuous if nothing so off I went. Things were going okay until I hit my first big hill. I couldn’t remember how to shift (oh Cranky, I’m ashamed!!) and so was standing on the pedals and still only going about 1 mile an hour whilst toting 150 pounds of child. It was in that wonderfully sweaty moment that my baby discovered that, hey, this is boring! But amusement is only a plumber crack away! He yanked my shirt up (sorry, passing cars!) and endeavored to make me moon everyone to boot.
Let me say that that got me up the hill lickety-split. And just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, I hear my eldest call out, “Cool! Mom’s camera phone!” Click. That’s right, my sweaty butt – documented for posterity.
I’m pretty sure Lance Armstrong never had to yell out to his peloton, “All right, WHO has their FINGERS in my BUTT CRACK??” only to be answered with giggles and a camera flash.
This Experiment Was Just Right
You know how all the healthy folk tell you to try a new vegetable every week? It will add Variety and Interest to your meals, not to mention Nutrients and Flavor! Plus it ups your street cred at the Farmer’s Market. These people obviously don’t shop at Target. I think I can count on two hands and one foot the number of veggies they offer and that’s at SuperTarget. So this year I thought we should sign up with a CSA (community supported agriculture) to remedy that problem. Each week we get a big basket of fresh veggies – most I’ve never heard of. There have been some disasters (They gave us stinging nettles. They told us they were edible. They must think nettle burns to the mouth are funny. Those wacky farmers.) but most have been pretty good. This week’s excitement was kohlrabi, a.k.a. the alien vegetable. I roasted it with garlic snapes, also a freaky looking veg, and they were delish!
Also, on the culinary front, I made this fudge recipe for a party. It is made out of pinto BEANS. And nobody even knew! It tasted completely fab although I wouldn’t go so far as to call it “healthy” but hey, for a dessert it was fun and sneaky! I missed my calling as a spy.
This Experiment Was Too Hot
I’m not going to lie to you, gaining those nine pounds has been really hard on my self esteem. All my jeans are tight. My shirts cling in the wrong places. I’ve been trying hard not to whine about it because I know how annoying it is when the skinny girl pinches her nonexistent fat and moans “Now, I’m going to have to buy a size 2! Waaah!” I believe I have even accidentally-on-purpose spilled juice on that girl when I waitressed. And yet, tears have been shed here. I’m not proud of it but there you go.
Come Friday night, the husband and I had an adults-only party to go to and I had nothing to wear that didn’t make me look, well, nine pounds heavier. So after much fist-shaking at the universe, I wedged into what used to be my big jeans and put on some sky-high heels hoping they would help balance out the hippage. Thankfully the party was fun enough that I forgot to be self conscious but on the way home, I had to take a quick detour to the grocery store.
I was tottering around the aisles looking for a coupon item from their ad when suddenly the night manager appeared, introduced himself by name and asked if I needed help finding something. Once he determined that he didn’t have the item I was looking for (grrr), he offered to help me finish my shopping list! I figured he was just bored. But then the stock boy joined in too. Wheee? It wasn’t until me and my entourage reached the paper towels that I finally caught on.
A little old lady pointed her finger accusingly at the night manager, “Where have you been? I’ve been waiting 15 minutes for you to come back and help me like you said!!”
The man, embarrassed, replied, “I… uh… I… got sidetracked. Um, sorry.”
She frowned menacingly at him and then sighed, looking at me, “Well I can certainly see why.” As she passed by me with her cart she smiled and said, “You flaunt in honey!” and PATTED my bum. (Something, incidentally, only 98-year-old grandmas can get away with so don’t get any pervy produce aisle ideas here.)
Then it occurred to me. My weight gain has gone to my hips and butt and maybe I could use a little junk in my trunk. All I know is I have never in my life got service like that and I shop there every week. Sister, I am working these nine pounds.