New England Mamas

The Webster Triathlon Course

What a week!  I realize that I'm posting this a little later today than I normally do.  It's been a crazy week starting with a triathlon I did on Sunday.  I thought I would write about it because it's the same course being used for the Danskin Women's Triathlon next month in Webster MA or so I've been told.  Definitely check it out on-line for yourself though!  It's a pretty big deal out here in New England, and I know a couple of New England Mamas who plan on being in the race.  I won't name names just in case you've changed your mind, though! 

Honestly, I had been pretty worried about this course.  I take that back.  I had been specifically worried about one part of the course:  the biking.  It seems like people who didn't even know what sports are in a triathlon knew one thing about the Webster triathlon:  the hill in the biking.  I kept hearing about the dread hill.  It sounded like cycling up this hill should be a sport of its own.  I was so nervous about this hill that my hands were shaking the night before the triathlon when I was pumping my tires and I let out all of my pride and self-confidence the air in my front tire.  There  may be some rumors that I then freaked out because I thought I had a flat.  I have no idea what that was all about, and since my husband was out of town for most of this week, he is also not in a position to confirm the rumor even if it were true.

Back to this hill, I am breaking from the pack, as it were, and writing this post to tell you not to worry about it.  Really, it was not that bad. I was picturing something like Mt. Everest so honestly I didn't even know I had gone over it.  When I looked back (figuratively) I know which hill it must have been, but at the time I didn't think it was The hill.   Good luck and have a great time.  It really is a fun course and I loved the swimming part. 

Biking Up a Wall

For a while now I've been hearing how scary the bike course is for the triathlon I'm doing on Sunday.  For all you New Englanders, this is the Webster course aka the course used for the Danskin women's triathlon in MA.   I have to admit, I've been getting a little nervous about it. In spinning, the instructor had us similate this course since she's done it herself quite a few times. I wasn't thrilled about it by any means, but then again it did seem doable. However, in spinning class, each person sets the resistance of their own bike (there are no numbers are anything to mark how much you have added) and I worried that perhaps the "hill" that I created by tightening the resistance was more of a bump.

Because time has been flying faster than I can pedal, I just haven't had time to go practice this course. After yet another conversation about the hill with another veteran of the course, I came to one conclusion: it must be like riding a bike up a wall. I needed to go see the course for myself. As I told my husband, I wasn't worried about getting hurt; I was worried about hurting my pride when I fell off my back at .1 mile an hour because of the steepness of the hill and my clipless pedals.

This evening all both boys, my husband and I piled into the car and went to look at the course. So it's not as bad as a wall, but it definitely is steep. Plus it's on a busy road. I've been told it will be like the other triathlon and they will have the police there to manage traffic. The only thing scarier to me than stopping is going downhill on a busy road with a traffic light.

Hot but Friendly Days of Spring?

Yes, I know.  Who hasn't complained about the weather?  It's been incredibly hot, and it's not even officially summer yet.  I happen to know that because my younger son is a summer solstice baby meaning he was born on June 21 which is the first day of summer. 

We did our best this weekend not to let the heat get the best of us.  My older son had a birthday party at the Southwick Zoo, so he and my husband spent a good portion of the afternoon walking around the zoo.  I had my college reunion, so my younger son and I spent the entire day outside.  Fortunately we also got to swim in the lake. 

Today though, I had just had it.  We have window ACs which are nice, but not as good as central AC.  It was still hot, and the last thing I felt like doing was turning on the oven.  Plus it's that time of the month.  I decided we could go to Friendly's as a special treat.  My husband seemed to like that plan as well.  A nice cool restaurant along with a meal I wasn't responsible for and that neither my husband nor I had to clean up afterwards.  Plus we could get ice cream. 

Unfortunately, when we got inside Friendly's it was really hot in there.  It turns out that the AC was broken.  There was also a ten minute wait to get a table.   The new last thing I wanted to do (even compared to turning on the oven in my house) was wait in a hot restaurant to get a table so I could spend the next hour sweating over my meal.  I could do that at home for free!  Fortunately, Friendly's are almost as ubiquitiouis as Dunkin Donuts and so we went to another one.  Not the one on the same side of Route 9 that is 15 minutes away, but the one on the other side of Route 9 that is 10 minutes away.  I think a lot of people must have had the same idea about eating out in a nice, cool place.  The restaurant was definitely packed.  Packed, but cool though.   My ice cream was fabulous. 

Tis the Season

As it gets lighter and I start to think about warm days, beaches, parks and cookouts, a darker thought enters my mind:  school will be out soon.  The school year is almost over and won't resume until the middle of September.  While honestly part of me is looking forward to having unstructured time and being able to spend the whole day with both of my kids, another part of me really enjoys that three days for three hours, that I only have one child to take with on errands and to entertain.  Thankfully there's a wonderful solution to all of this:  camp. 

After talking to a bunch of moms, I decided to enroll my 4.5 year old in camp.  Yes, last year he did go to camp, but that was basically a continuation of his two day preschool for part of the summer.  I'm not even sure he fully understood that the camp wasn't part of the school year, although he had different teachers in a different classroom.  This year, though at his request we decided to go with a separate camp.  It seemed like most of the camps for his age group schedule sessions by the week.  While I was originally annoyed that the sessions weren't arranged in two week blocks, further consultation with more experienced moms helped me to understand the benefit of one-week sessions:  you can stagger them.  My older son will now be attending morning camp for three weeks, but those weeks are spread throughout the summer.  We will see how it goes.

Too bad there isn't some sort of coffee club camp for parents to attend.  Maybe that will be my million dollar idea...

The Sudbury Spring Sprint

On Sunday I did my very first triathlon.  It was the Sudbury Spring Sprint.  Originally I had planned to just do one in Webster, MA this summer followed by a triathlon in the fall.  However, quite a few people recommended against that one being my first one.  Don't get me wrong, it's an excellent from what I heard.  The thought was just that what can be tricky about triathlons are the transitions and since Sudbury is both early in the season and much shorter, it makes a good practice run, no pun intended, for triathlons later in the season. 

I have to say that after doing it, I highly recommend it as well.  First of all, everyone was really friendly.  People went out their way to help me set up and explain exactly how the course was going to work.  Yes, I had read multiple books on triathlons and I had even practiced the course a couple times, but it was different when there were timing pads that I needed to jump onto and a certain path to get from the pool to the bike racks and from the bike racks to the biking and running courses.  While it's not a big deal by any means, it's something that you just really had to experience. 

I also got  to practice the logistics of the transitions.  For example, it just may be possible that despite having laid my equipment out on my towel in the order in which I would need it,  I leaned over my biking shoes and grabbed my running shoes.  This hypothetical situation would have occurred if perhaps I was so nervous about fastening my bike helmet that I couldn't focus on anything else.  Needless to say, if this were to have happened, I would have much very relieved that the course was only 7 miles instead of 12 miles. 

Hmmm...maybe this would be a good time to describe the course.  The swimming is a pool swim and was 400 yards.  The biking was 7 miles (two 3.5 loops) on a fairly flat course and the running was 2.3 miles also on a flat course.  There were people from all over New England participating. 

So what's my criticism of this event?  I really had just one tiny little gripe with it.  If you're describing where the timing pad is after the swim portion  saying that it's "under the maple tree" is not helpful unless you live somewhere like Arizona were there's not an abundance of maple trees.  Personally I just followed the screams of everyone when I got out of the pool and ran to the bike rack.  That seemed to work much better! 

Where the Streets Have No Name

I'll give you a moment to get the U2 song into your head (or click on it so you can actually hear it). It will set the tone for this post. Then you can be mad at me for the rest of the day when you can't get it back out of your head.

One of the many things that just leaves me staring in amazement is the way streets are named in Massachusetts. Many streets do not appear to have a name. That's not to be confused with streets that change names every block. I've had quite a few debates with people over the names of streets. They will insist that a road may be called Belmont Street or Boston Turnpike, while I will point out that if I follow the signs for Route 9 and ignore when it is called Belmont Street, Boston Turnpike, Highland Street, or any other name, I will get to Natick and see the fabulous new mall with the Cheesecake Factory. Quite honestly, if it takes you to cheesecake, does it really matter what it's called?

This brings me to this past Sunday. I decided to take a second stab at running the course (literally) for the triathlon. Well...most of the course. I didn't do the swimming. I did the biking again with no problem. Then armed with the handwritten list of street names for the running course that I had copied from the triathlon website, I took off. Everything seemed fine, until I realized I was back at the main street without having run through every street on my list. Based on the amount of time that elapsed, there were two possibilities: I had doubled my running speed or more likely, I had somehow lost a mile of the course. How weird does that sound? It's true though. The same thing happened the week before when my triathlon training buddy and I also attempted the running part of the course. The only difference was that time she had written the directions.

Determined to find where I took a wrong turn, I retraced my steps. That's when I realized the third possible explanation. I had stepped into a Harry Potter book. You HP fans know that in order to get to Diagon Alley, someone (usually Hagrid) has to tap a strange pattern of swipes onto what looks to the average person like a brick wall with his umbrella. The wall then magically disappears revealing a magical town. I believe that the triathlon course is similar. I needed Hagrid to bring his magic pink umbrella to tap on one of the luxury driveways in this neighborhood to magically cause another street to appear. I want to tear down the walls that hold me inside.

Of course in this very nice neighborhood it is hard to distinguish driveways from small streets; I suspect one of those non-driveways may be the missing link on the secret triathlon route. I did take a gander down several driveways, but after getting weird looks from a homeowner or two, I decided it was better to hedge my bets that the course will be marked on race day than spend the next several hours in jail after the cops were called on me for trespassing. That would make me want to run and want to hide. This does impact my race gear. In addition to needing shoes, a bike, a swim suit, a helmet, brown and a bag to wear over my head or throw up in (but not in that order), I also need a magic pink umbrella.

Alright, I am sure the prosaic among you may have come up with another explanation for the missing mile on my triathlon route. It is possible that the map on-line was wrong. It could also just be my mistake. My spinning instructor told me that she missed the microscopic street the first time she ran that triathlon while waving back at a friendly (or mischievous) neighborhood kid who waved at her. HP magic sounds way more fun. My favorite explanation remains the possibility that I developed superpowers and ran the until course in record breaking speed... All I can do is what I told my training buddy. "When I go there, I go there with you. It's all I can do."

Cross posted at Formula Fed and Flexible Parenting

Who Is That Mom?

I have a slightly embarrassing confession to make.  No, nothing really big and juicy but one that makes me laugh ever time I think of it.  With this beautiful weather, I've thought about it quite a few times this past week. 

The summer my older son (OS) was about 20 months, we spent a lot of time at the park.  It was the first summer that he was walking and could really enjoy the equipment.  He particularly liked the little toddler slide at one park.  He would go on it over and over again.  Except for this one day when a bunch of older kids kept climbing back up the slide.  These teenagers 4 year olds didn't even seem aware that OS was trying to go down the slide.  I was really annoyed.  Where were the parents?  All I could see was a bunch of parents standing around talking. 

I was completely irked.  I even emailed my moms group list-serve to ask about the etiquette for this situation.  (This makes me laugh a slightly embarrassed laugh.) I mean surely this rude behavior was an anomaly.  Maybe not.  I witnessed it a bunch of times later on that summer.  Each time I a huffed about it. 

Fast foward to yesterday.  I was at the park with both of my boys who are 4.5 and 21 months.  I was talking to a friend while standing next to the slide that my boys had been using.  I turned around to see a woman standing on the other side looking perplexed as her granddaughter proved unable to go down the slide because my sons were climbing up the slide.  Great.   Nothing like being a hypocrite.  I mumbled an apology, as did the boys, and took them off to climb on a different structure. 

The Magic of Magic Wings

If you're from the Midwest, you'll probably have a better understanding of this post.  This is particularly true if you've ever been to Wisconsin Dells.  Wisconsin Dells is a giant water slide park.  There are several random exhibits in the area, like the one where my friends and I fed over 100 tame, white tail deer or the house that appears to defy gravity (really it's built on an angle). 

I posted a few weeks ago about museum passes, and someone made a comment about the butterfly museum.  My older son is very intrigued by butterflies so I thought it would be a lot of fun.  A friend of mine and I therefore decided to carpool to Magic Wings near Springfield, MA. 

As we were approaching, I racked my brain for the name of this butterfly place.  I thought it might be Magic Wings.  As I tried to confirm that name in my mind, one image immediately popped into my head:  Wisconsin Dells. 

We went inside and after some confusion about where to get tickets, having to park our strollers which are not allowed in the gift shop or the actual butterfly conservatory, we walked into the exhibit.  At first I was very disappointed and a little miffed that I had just spent $20.  The first room had a bunch of display cases with different butterflies, small reptiles, and quails that had just hatched.  I repeatably saw the slogan "more than butterflies" throughout the museum.  Before I wanted to see more, I wanted to actually see butterflies.  Once I realized this wasn't the actual butterfly conservatory, I felt better about the exhibit, and I did chuckle at the slogan and the displays.   

The actual butterfly conservatory was really cool.  Well, it depends on who you ask.  My boys and I really enjoyed it.  Butterflies swooped down from all over the place.  Despite the pictures on the wesbsite though, we didn't have many butterflies land on us.  In fact, I don't remember a single butterfly landing on us, a point which my 4 year old was quick to point out in disapointment.  Neither my friend nor her son were as impressed.  She said she felt like she was in Alfred Hitchcock's movie The Birds except with butterflies.  A bunch of the kids there looked uncomfortable, but then again a lot of others really seemed to be enjoying it.  They also had some small cages of birds, more reptiles, and a small pond with giant goldfish in it.  These random combinations only further reminded me of the Wisconsin Dells.  My boys loved it. 

Based on my friend's first experience, it was just the boys and me for our visit after our lunch break.  We all had a good time.  My only complaint was that it was warm (understandable because of the butterflies.)  Also, I found several of the other customers to be a little rude and pushy.  I wouldn't recommend going there on the weekend; even on Tuesday it was pretty crowded and hard to move around in the conservatory.  Apparently there is more space available for butterflies than I realized.  When he got home from work, my husband asked which butterfly museum we had visited.   We'll have to check out the other one too.

The New Favorite Toy

One of the many things that continues to amaze me with my kids is the types of toys that they like.  A toy that is bright and shiny occupies them for about 5 minutes.  Some gross knick knack that they find under the table at a restaurant will be on their minds for the rest of the day and possibly the next day.  Usually this knick knack is something like a broken used crayon in a shade of red that is far less inviting than the brand-new perfectly good orange crayons.  Another sure winner is the stray ponytail holder found on the ground in the parking lot.  Even if I convince the boys to bypass the junk, there's a good chance that any subsequent visits to the restaurant or parking lot will recall memories of this treasured item.  This long-term memory is particularly impressive in the face of my 4.5 year-old's inability to remember that I told him to put on his shoes two minutes later. 

Several years ago, we were at a playgroup where the hostess had fun-shaped laundry hampers.  Just so there is no confusion, I am not talking about some sort of electronic gadget; I am talking about a basket into which dirty clothes are placed.  This hamper was nylon with fun designs and some sort of springs in them so they fold down.  The kids just loved hopping in and out of them.  Whenever we subsequently visited someone's house with a hamper in palin sight, you know whose kids were hopping in and out of them.  My younger son has learned to love this type of play by following his brother's example.

As odd as it sounds, my older son has been asking for a laundry hamper for some time.  Sure he has a plastic laundry basket in his room, but that is for dirty laundry.  He wants a fun hamper!  Today at Bed Bath and Beyond, we happened to see a bunch of them.  The boys picked out a Cars one.  They've been playing with it since they got it.  It's amazing how many ways you can jump in and out of a laundry hamper.  Funnier how much time kids can stay occupied jumping in and out of laundry hamper.

The Worcester County St. Patrick's Day Parade

I have to admit that parades have never been my thing.  There's something about being outside in a crowd without a nearby available bathroom that makes them a little bit unappealing to me.  Plus parades typically tend to happen when it's cold; Thanksgiving and even St. Patrick's Day aren't known for their warm weather.  Despite the temperatures, the one parade I really enjoyed as a kid was the St. Patrick's Day parade in Chicago.  They dye the river green.  Need I say more? 

A friend of mine invited my family to join her and her son for the St. Patrick's Day parade in Worcester.  I thought it was something that my kids would enjoy.  Notice I didn't say anything about me!  We arranged a time and place to meet.

I have to say that it was the most accessible city parade I've ever attended.  A different friend recommended getting there an hour in advance to ensure good parking.  We got there half an hour before the parade started and found wonderful free parking spaces behind a local business.  It didn't seem like anyone was pressed to find a space.  There was plenty of room on the sidewalks.  I'm used to layers of people.  We parked the kids right on the curb.  The specific car parking recommendation that we had received was for us to be near Mill Street, partially because that is where the parade starts but more importantly due to the proximity of a Dunkin Donuts.  The business owners all seemed courteous.  People appeared to walk in and out at will, and while I don't know for sure, I suspect that a child or two may have even been allowed to use their bathrooms.

I feel a little torn about the actual parade.  I was expecting elaborately decorated floats.  Instead the mayor of the parade rode by and the grand marshal, past grand marshals, and past parade mayors walked by.  They seemed proud of their important role, but I would be lying if I claimed to recognize any of them.  I was more impressed by the bagpipes.  There were a lot of bagpipes.  Some people were dressed in costumes, and there were several paraders who proved really popular with my boys...those who threw candy.   My New Yorker husband was particularly thrilled to see a parade participant wearing a New York Yankee hat.

While the event seemed kind of provincial compared to what I was used to from Chicago and what I have heard about Boston, people were very enthusiastic about this parade.  Many in the crowd were decked out in green.  Vendors were selling hats, balloons, and green toys.  (I hadn't known that Blue from "Blue's Clues" was a St. Patrick's Day celebrity, but Oscar the Grouch and the many leprechauns were logical participants.)  Everyone seemed to really enjoy being there.  In fact, when I mentioned it at a meeting  later in the day, several people told me how much they like that parade. 

The bottom line is that there is something to be said for a parade that's easy to get to and has ample parking and curb space.  While my husband insists that hot chocolate was a key part of his Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade experiences every year in New York, I have added a twist to make a new East coast parade tradition for our family: Dunkin Donuts and hot chocolate.