The Good Old Days

When Emily was a newborn and had the worst case of colic known to man, I was out of my mind. I was exhausted and constantly clinging to the very tail end of my rope. At that time, a few parents actually said to me, "Just wait until she's two and starts throwing tantrums and asking questions constantly. Then you'll long for these days". At the time, those comments engendered such a feeling of hopelessness that I wondered why anybody would have children. Now I know better.

Emily is finally two and I can at last definitively say I long for those days about as much as Nelson Mandela wishes he was back in prison.

The tantrums are not fun, but they are brief and are improving over time. They are more than offset by the range of emotions that wasn't there two years ago. At the beginning, there was only mad and asleep. Now happiness, boredom, curiosity, remorse, playfulness and a slew of other emotions have joined the mix.

As for the questions, they have been coming for about six months now and although I am not always able to give a satisfactory answer, I must say that I love being constantly asked, "What is that?" or "What's that sound?". I love the awakening that is taking place every day. With the awakening comes communication I would have never dreamed possible a year ago. I can answer her questions. I can explain rules to her. I can calm her down by talking to her and (my favorite) I can bribe her to be good.



This whole experience has left me wishing that children came into the world as toddlers rather than infants. It has also left me with a great deal of doubt when those same parents who told me I would hate the toddler years tell me how bad teenagers are. Something tells me I will never again wish for colic. And there is a great deal of comfort in that.

Now... let's just hope that the parents who tell me the second one is always more mellow are right.

A Tribute

Six years ago, I was newly married, had recently graduated from college and I was very, very fat. After I got married, I had done a lot of cooking and it showed. I had also lost access to Half Acre Gym which meant that on cold days I got a lousy workout, if I even got one at all. When I turned 23, I told anyone who asked that I wanted money for my birthday - money that would help me buy a treadmill. I got a cheap treadmill (top picture) and was amazed at the difference it made. I could run even on the snowiest of days.

Since then, I have lost 45 pounds, moved twice, had a child, recovered from a stress fracture and through it all have been able to run longer and feel better thanks to my treadmill. When you pay $400 for a treadmill, you don't expect it to last long, but I figure this one has in excess of 5000 miles on it. It has been through a few repairs and has continued to work so that I could continue to run.

Last week, my treadmill started making a new noise. It has always squeaked, but this was a grinding noise. I asked Chris to take a look. He determined it could be saved, but it would cost over half of the original purchase price. I knew it was time to say goodbye to my old friend. Last Friday, I took it for one last run. It made its horrible grinding noise on and off, but it held up like a champion. I think it knew it was the last time.

It was sad to say goodbye, but once we got the new treadmill set up on Saturday (bottom picture), I could clearly see that home exercise equipment has come a long way in the last 6 years. It is quiet, smooth and beautiful. Still, there is some emotional attachment to my first treadmill - kind of like a first car. Thanks for going the miles with me, old friend.