Shhh....don't tell anyone, but I think I may be getting old...

I have been known to tease my husband for all the twinges and sore spots he has to work through to do things he enjoys like playing tennis, flag football or even golf. My response...Wow, it sucks to be getting old."

I, on the other hand, am nearly 3 youthful years behind him, possibly in the best shape of my life. I am training for my second triathlon. I discovered running two years after I discovered "Happy Fat", courtesy of a nice marriage. A year after that, I discovered that weight lifting can change the whole way your body looks without having to go on a diet (yeah cookies and ice cream!). A year after that, I discovered that yes, I can swim a reasonable distance without drowning AND that it is much more fun to combine 3 activities together (swimming, biking, & running), rather than continuing to circle the neighborhood to add mileage. Isn't that all great? Well, yes it is. But, since that last discovery, I have had 2 children which has led to the beginning of the end of my body.

It's not what you think. You see, I am faster, stronger and can swim further than when I started...but I also get hurt more often. Every three or four weeks, these horrible knots in my shoulder and neck appear - making it impossible to look over my right shoulder (or left depending on which side hurts this week). When I try to push my kids in the double jogger, I end up with a really sore lower back for days and days (even if I am just walking). Now, in my younger days, I've gotten sore from a workout, but the next day you wake up and it feels much better. No longer, it appears I have crossed the threshold to OLD.

No matter, I plan on using this body for all it's worth, until it breaks down entirely. Just don't let my husband know that I have admitted to getting old. I have told him that I need those massages because I am just "training hard."

Remember, it's our secret.

Is it Friday yet?

Yesterday, the first words out of my mouth were...what day is it? This morning it was...is it Friday yet? What could drive me to hope day in and day out for the weekend? Now I know a lot of folks hanker for the weekend because they need a break from the daily grind.

But my desire for Friday is a bit of laziness and selfishness. Laziness, because my daughter's best friend is tracked out (they are in year round school), so right now I have to drive both ways in the carpool. 

Now, I know I could put her on the bus, but there are 5th graders on that bus and I don't want my sweet kindergartner to come home with any 5th grader rubbed off on her! (I have slowly weaned her off of High School Musical, because even as a "sweet" Disney movie, I don't need to live with a Sharpay OR Gabriella mimic). 

Back to Friday though, I am selfishly in need of Friday. Friday means that if I want to cuddle up on the couch with my little sweatpea and watch Mary Poppins, I don't have to worry about getting a grumpy kindergartener up and out the door the next day - she can just sleep in. 

Something both of us love! Now if only her darling little brother would get the "sleep in" memo.

It's Not About Me Anymore

Or at least not entirely. Prior to the last, let's say 6 years, it was all about me (mostly). Actually, let's even call it the last 5, since technically, she was still part of Me during that 6th year. I have always been selfish, I liked to think of it as self-preservation.

But, let's face it, once you get to a point when you are clearly out of the woods - preserved so to speak, from there onward it's just called selfishness. My challenge is then to be more selfless, taking care of my children doesn't count, because aren't they part of me (at least for a bit longer). But of course, here I am blogging, and what do you think I'll be talking about, ah...yes, me.