It happened. I forgot the chicken in the slow cooker overnight. I woke up to the smell of burnt lime, chili, and expensive organic chicken. It smells the same as regular GMO hormone and antibiotic chicken probably. Except the smell in my house costs more money.
Remember that post about how I don’t run anymore? Well this morning I went for a run. Last weekend we did an Amazing Race inspired birthday party for Kathleen and we ran all over Seattle (meaning sprinting to and from clue to car to other clue, back to car) and I was sore for 2 days after. Plus I was super out of running shape. Plus I felt like an idiot. Plus it has been so beautiful out at 5:30 in the morning that I thought it would be nice. And it was! At first it was. I headed out at 5:30 in my yoga pants, sports bra and loose t-shirt. The morning was cool, but the kind of cool that is 2 seconds from heating up to hotsie totsie. Those are my favorite kinds of mornings. I took off on a warm up jog, then did some sprinting, then got a bug in my mouth which I successfully spit out, then attempted to breath only through my nose which made me almost pass out, then gave up and went back to my usual panting like a dog, and legit swallowed a bug. I thought about throwing up but was able to stymie the gagging. There was no water fountain near me and the bug got stuck in the back of my throat. I kept imagining its little wings plastered to my insides – that didn’t help. It took a lot of swallowing to get it to a place where I could forget it was there. This whole time trotting around the park, sometimes sprinting, sometimes slowing to a walk. Ok, I lied – the bug in my throat never got to a point where I could forget it was there but I did run through it. It was my Everest.
Gabe is getting molars. His mouth is a war zone. He is so sad and miserable and can’t eat. The saddest thing I’ve heard is the daycare ladies saying he kept trying to eat mac and cheese but every time he would put it in his mouth he would start crying. They kept watching him try to eat and then cry. They said its his favorite. He was so discouraged. That was a bad day all around. Poor booger.
I’m having a hard time knowing what to do with myself in real summer. I’ve had fake summer for so many years, where I always need a jacket except for maybe 1-2 days and now because of that I have no clothing for a consistent 80+ degree season. I am totally over dressed, but also uncomfortable with anything sleeveless. Wearing a dress or skirt to work feels like too much effort, as my dresses and skirts are mostly for events and my maxi dresses are sleeveless and make me feel like I am borderline wearing a beach cover up. How does one “do” this thing called summer?
Gabe’s new words recently: Goal, Mas (more in spanish), Book, Milk, Dada (Finally, but inconsistently. Most people are still mama).
