I'm procrastinating with running. Wednesday I left at 7:30-ish and it was absurdly hot and so I want to leave by 7:00 so that I'm not sweating like a maniac. Mmm, July in the South. I'm excited about training for the 10K (and possibly more) very early in the morning with Andrea (and possibly a couple of others). That will be so much better and I won't have the children with me (they come with me now because of Quinn's job in the middle of the night). The children do NOT enjoy riding their bikes for three miles, as I had hoped they would. Apparently, it's a lot more fun to ride in a driveway with a lot of other children for three hours in the middle of a hot day. However, since I'm the slave driver (and since I'm MILDLY obsessive compulsive about exercise), we go.
Yesterday, I had to go shopping for some unmentionables, with my three darling boys, and this was the conversation before we got out of the car at TJMAXX:
me: Alright, boys. We are going to go in this store and Mommy is going to get some stuff that I need. I need for you to NOT run around and to be mindful of me.
boys in chorus: Yes, ma'am.
me: I do not want you to try on women shoes, throw stuff at each other, use hangers for guns, or hide underneath underwear racks.
boys (with groans) in chorus: Yes, ma'am.
me: I do not want you to take underwear OFF THE RACKS AT ALL. You may not scream and say, 'GROSS'! when you see the underwear. You may not pretend to wear the underwear and walk around doing a funny dance. You may not take bras off the rack and try to capture each other with it.
boys (with laughter) in chorus: Yes, ma'am.
me: Any questions?
No questions and so we got out of the car and filed into the store. The big boys did pretty good playing thumb war and sitting against the wall, where they were instructed to sit. Felix wanted to pull everything off the rack and throw it in the basket. "No, Mommy. I help you!", he would scream when I would put stuff back. "Felix, I don't need you to help me with this." He conceded to this and proceeded to still pull stuff off the rack and ask me if I liked it. "Momma, you like dis one?" After I got onto him again, he proceeded to start kissing my arms, "Momma, I kiss you. Der. Der. Momma! I need to kiss you!" This is also with me interjecting to the big boys to stop screaming "1-2-3-4, I DECLARE A THUMB WAR!" Their thumbs were apparently not enough and so they were standing up and wrestling in the aisle. Then they tried to teach Felix. "Boys, please don't teach Felix 'Thumb War'." Felix screamed, "MOMMA, I WANNA PWAY THUMB WAR, TOO! ME TOO!"
I'm amazed I got anything done. I also got a haircutting kit (ran to Sally's Beauty Supply, bought haircutting scissors, saw that their clippers were really expensive and walked to Marshall's to see what they had, bought a clipper set that included scissors for 25.00, then ran back to Sally's to return the other scissors-all the while grasping at Felix's hand because he wants to "wun to the van, Momma, I hungry!") because Quinn is convinced I can cut his hair. I can cut the boys hair (because they are children and they don't care what their hair looks like), but I'm quite nervous about cutting big man's hair. He's kind of picky about it, but says he's not. I guess I'm going to try and learn. My prediction? He'll be paying for haircuts by January.
Now it's 7:08 and I guess I'm going to broil this morning on my run. Gotta go.