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Wednesday, February 28, 2018

FMS: A FitBit Mom's Constant Struggle

I'd like to take this moment to discuss my FMS (Forgetful Mom's Syndrome) or the limited capability of my beloved FitBit.  I mean, either way...it's the same thing.  I feel like my cries have fallen on FitBit's deaf ears.  Ugh.

See, I love my FitBit.  And when the weather is nice, I live and die by the thing - challenging everyone I know into competition to which I'm constantly trying to win, but let's be honest, I'm efficient...and therefore might not walk as much as my husband. EXCEEEEEEEEEPT when my FMS kicks in.  And here's where FitBit could be more friendly.  Let me challenge ppl to the number of flights I've mastered in a day!  You heard me right; I go up and down stairs more than anyone I know.  Here's why:

This morning, my feet were cold.  Of course I couldn't find my slippers.  I came downstairs and made coffee, while pacing the house.  I asked the oldest & youngest children if they'd seen them.  [sigh] I went down into the basement...maybe I left them by the back door when I let the dog out.  Nope.  Back up I go.  Creamer into the coffee, but my pigs are still frozen, sooooo - back to my quest.  I go upstairs.  Once I reach the summit, I look around.  What in the hell did I come up here for?  FMS kicked in bc my feet were buried in lush carpet at this point and slippers were the furthest thing from my mind.  Back down I go, vaguely disappointed in myself for some reason.

I begin to sip coffee.  Which is piping hot.  And reminds me that my feet are cold...and that I need my slippers.  Back up the stairs I go.  I look under my bed, thinking maybe Vern has pushed them under there.  Nope.  Back down.  Sensing a theme?  It's not even 7:00 yet.  Eventually, I find my slippers, flung into a remote corner of my room [which is not where I put them.  Ever. But, I did run the robot vacuum yesterday so I probably just wanted them out of my way...which leads me to marvel over my FMS and my non-recollection of ever even taking them off].  Anywho...

This is how my day continues.  All day.  Every. Day.  I go up stairs with a purpose in mind, forget what the hell I was doing [and subsequently get sucked into 17 tasks that I wasn't doing] only to go back down the stairs and back up again when I remember.

Most days, I rack up at minimum 22 flights of stairs.  Minimum.  22 flights.  And yet FitBit will not let me create a challenge for my friends based on this statistic...the only one I feel I could win, and satisfy my competitive streak. 

Sighing, I sit down and go to finish my now luke-warm coffee.  I look at my FitBit app.  I was going to message the creator's something.  I have no idea what though. It was feedback of some sort.  [shrugs]  I think to myself, "It must be that I left something upstairs again..."  I set my phone down and push my mug away.  I slip my feet back into my newly found slippers and go upstairs.  I reach the top, only to have the dim and flickering lightbulb appear over my head: I was going to suggest they let me create a flight competition.  Back down I go.

Tuesday, January 30, 2018

Snow-Co

Today was a glorious winter morning, like any other...until it wasn't.  The snow was falling softly and I let SoCo out to play as she loves the snow.  First thing she did was run around the tree at the end of her 50' run [don't judge, she's a scent-hound that can't be off leash and her breed is known to climb trees so fences are also out].  Then she began harmlessly eating snow...and thus why in winter the kids call her Snow-Co.

Snow-Co: Mommy, I am dog.  And I am done eating snow.  And I'm stuck.  Come get me.
Me: Dude!  Go around the tree. [now, she knows this command, but it appears we will revisit the training this summer]
Snow-Co:  But, I am dog and I cannot.  Wait.  I got it!  This way? [runs the wrong way around again]
Me: Come on you moron...go around the tree!
Snow-Co: YOU. WILL. COME. GET. ME. I will it so!
Me: Go around!

[this continues for about three minutes that felt like an hour; I go back inside to swap my slippers for BJ's sneakers inside the door and begin the long tromp out there]

Snow-Co: Haha!  You want to play!  I will run around the tree!  Twice, because you said so more than once.
Me: Jeeeee-Zus, are you kidding me?  These foot yachts are full of snow already!
Snow-Co: You want to play?  I'm coming for you!

She begins running for me completely untethered from the tree, at full bore.  She begins barking and running like a mad woman around me while I duck and pray I don't get taken out by the run/tie-out.

Snow-Co: Play!  You will play!  See?  I will run and you will run and we will run and PLAYING!
Me: Stop, God stop! [I duck down again, while putting an arm out bc she is now trying to jump ON me]
Snow-Co: Woooo-Hooooo!  Playing!  I love the snow and when you play and RUNNING MOMMY!
Me: ARGH!

At this moment I fall into the snow.  With men's sneakers on that are about six sizes too big for me - seriously, who in the hell has feet this big?!?  I feel like Ralphie's kid brother trying to get up.  I roll around like a marooned Yeti for a moment until I find my footing in these pontoons.  At this, the dog runs up and knocks me down again.

Me: DOG!  Quit. That.
Snow-Co:  I love to play with you Mommy!  Here, eat the snow too!  It is yummy! [at this she somehow flings up snow and covers me in a shower of it...only on my face]

More rolling ensues.  I get up to find she's casually strolled to the back door.

Snow-Co: Mommy, I am dog and I am done playing in the snow.  What are you doing?!?  Stop with your nonsense and come let me inside!

Ugh.