Egg Face

And in this case, I don't actually mean one of my favoritest blogs The World According to Eggface. I mean me, splattered with egg all over my face, looking like a goofball. Oy.

I bought cycling gloves on Friday night. Seriously, I was not getting on that bike again with my hands as cold as they were on previous rides. NO MORE. But finding the right cold/wet weather gloves has been a real PITA (pain in the arse) for me. If they're too bulky, I feel like I can't control the bike as well. I already struggle with controlling the bike enough, haha. Refer to countless earlier posts about not wanting to fall. Or see other earlier posts about having fallen (okay, those were low-speed "getting used to clipless pedal" falls...they don't really count).

Anyway. I went to the little independent bike shop. I'm totally crushing on the young boy who works there. I do this, actually. I have a couple of cute little barista boys in my building that I crush on, too. I like to think of it as "hot older woman ready to school these young boys," but to them it probably looks more like, "Oh, isht, the cougar is back again." Ah well, life is for fun, yes?? Oh yes, there is also a boy who works in the building who I have pined for for awhile now - my friends and I estimate he might be 25, hahahaha. (I doubt it.)

But, that's not why I go to the overly-expensive independent bike shop. Well, I guess mostly it is. I like the guy, and it's only about a mile from my house. I try to go there first when I am bike-shopping, although they do tend to be more expensive and have less selection. Plus, my boyfriend is new to the state and not well-familiar with riding around here and I feel gave me bum advice on my first bike light purchase, thus wasting my money. There was another purchase, too, that I felt like ended up being a waste of money. Can't think of what it was.

Oh, hello, I was going to tell you about having egg on my face. So. I went to the bike shop, I bought two pairs of gloves: skinny wool liners and a bulkier pair to go over them.

Skinny wool ones.

Bulkier outer ones.

Well, by the time I talked to Mr. W about it that evening, I decided I should have bought the bigger size outer gloves, because they were tight over the liners. Then Mr. W. pointed out that the outer gloves were not waterproof, which was contrary to my need for waterproof gloves on rainy rides. Hrumph.

Okay. Back they'll go. Later that evening, I stopped at REI and I bought two pairs of waterproof warm and fuzzy gloves with funky fingers. I crossed my fingers (before putting on the gloves) hoping I'd be able to work through the funky fingers issue.

Cuh-razy, man.

I bought two pairs because I am THAT PICKY about how gloves fit: in general, but most especially while on my bike. I tried them on with and without the wool liner that I had purchased at the independent bike shop earlier that night. 

Okay. I'm getting to the egg on my face part, really. Imagine me at REI with 2/3 of my children, trying and trying and trying on gloves. Liner. No liner. Small. Medium. Every variation of these three pairs. (Except Small on Medium, or Medium on Small, I didn't go that crazy.)

And the whoooooooollllllllllllllllllllleeeeeeeeee time, I am so conscious about not losing these wool liners that I bought at another store but brought into REI specifically to try on with their gloves. Don't lose the brand new gloves.

Okay. I bought two pairs of funky-fingered gloves, and I also bought a hundred dollar pair of snow pants (IMPULSE BUY!) for my trip to Lake Chelan with Mr. W. this weekend. Umm, I think I'll return those. I have like ZERO use for snow pants. Well, except I did wear them to ride on Saturday. Comfy! But extravagant. We'll see. Oh, and a $40 pair of Merrell hiking boots that were on clearance. IMPULSE BUY! 

The whole decadent shopping spree cost me $85 in gloves at store #1 and $202 at REI. Oops. But I knew I was returning at least two pairs of gloves: one to REI and one to the independent store. And by the time I got home (wearing my new funky-fingered gloves) I knew I'd return BOTH pairs to the independent store. Even though I also knew this would break my bike-store-boyfriend's heart. I do not know how that store stays open - it is so dead - unless he has a whole cadre of middle-aged biking women who just adore him. (Bitches. Stay away from my man.)

Alright, so now my registration fees for the Cascade bike training series and the RSVP (Ride from Seattle to Vancouver BC and Party) are gone - oops - that would have been about $250 bucks or so. No worries. I'm taking back three pairs of gloves and maybe the snow pants. Seriously, those Merrell boots were originally $115 and I got them brand new for $39 - I'm keeping those puppies.

I can't find a pic, but they are a-dor-able.

Well, I'll probably keep them, anyway. They are a 7.5 and I really should have an 8. But they're cute. And $40!

Still with me? I'm home now, and I'm assembling my return bag. Two pairs back to the bike shop, one pair back to REI. I'll do that in the morning.

Where. the. flying. f. are. the. wool. liner. gloves?

"OH!" Reid (my 7yo) says. "I told you to pick them up from the rock wall! You shouldn't have left them there!"

Hmm. I think it is valiant that he falls on the sword so quickly, but I distinctly remember taking the gloves back from him while we were in the store.

I must have left them at the dang cash register. I call REI, but they're already closed. Thankfully, we were in right before closing and I'll call them first thing in the morning and everything will be A-OK. 

I am so pissed at myself for losing these gloves. Argh. I call REI at 9:00 a.m., but they don't open until 10:00 a.m. At 10:00 a.m. I'm in the thick of a bike ride with Mr. W. and Ms. V., the group leader for my regular Wednesday night ride. If I ever finish telling you that I lost, and then found, a pair of gloves, I'm posting separately about this ride and my weekend with Mr. W.

(See, this whole post could have been "I thought I lost a brand new pair of gloves, but no worries, I found them." But you have to hang in for another page or two to get to that point.)

Okay, so at 10a, everyone's waiting on me and I call REI. Nope, no gloves in the lost and found. They'll keep an eye out for them. My suspicious heart says "Yes, keep an eye on them as you are wearing them, GLOVE THIEVES!" I ask to talk to a manager, who is sweet, but also claims to not be wearing my brand new gloves. I explain that they are brand new and I lost them. She seems to be not as moved by this plight as I am.

Over the course of the day, I tell myself things like, "Well, at least they were only the $25 gloves." As opposed to the $50 gloves or one of the $37 pairs. It's small consolation. I'm having big-time buyer's remorse and I am freaking at the financial pinch of both pursuing my real love and one true reason for living, e.g. cycling, and...deep sigh...feeding and housing my children. Seriously, who has nearly $300 to drop on gloves and isht like that?

Well, REI says they'll look for the gloves. But you know as soon as I finished that bike ride (also known as a Hilly MF'er - more later), I drag Mr. W. down to REI and we search the store. No gloves. I inquire about the lost and found. Nope. I leave a note with all mine and the gloves' info with the cashier. I am in full pout.

Here, Mr. W. was very nice and helped me look and only yakked one woman's ear off about the STP (Seattle to Portland ride) because he happened to overhear her buying cycling-something-or-'nother and he gave her an earful of what I would call unsolicited advice...hmm, but I was in full glove-search dither so I really cannot judge her perception of the exchange. I walked away, hoping to find my gloves.

Dammit. I give up.

We stop at the bike shop and I break my bike shop boyfriend's heart, both by being seen with another man (that will keep him interested in me, though, spurred on by the challenge) and by returning the remaining pair of gloves I haven't lost. It is a sad exchange. The men mask their pain by talking about handlebar tape. I don't even think I'm supposed to call them handlebars...everything on a bike has a different name when you're a grown-up. Anyway, they push through the pain, and Mr. W. is buying handlebar tape. He asks me for my frequent buyer card so I get a punch for the purchase. Because he's just that nice.

Well, I can't find that damn thing, either. Even though I was JUST THERE the day before. ARGH! I am so frustrated. I search my purse and wallet, nothing.

There is one pocket inside my purse. It's my panties pocket. You know, I have had more occasion than you would think to carry my panties in my purse. Every Wednesday before leaving work when I change into my bike shorts in preparation for my group ride - there go the panties into the panties pocket. What am I supposed to do, wear them over my head?

I can feel the panties in that pocket from my earlier Wednesday ride, but now I'M PISSED and totally willing to open the pocket in front of these boys. They should keep their eyes to themselves, anyway. And, truth be told, I'd show either of them my panties, if asked.

Oh, I know you know this movie.

THE GLOVES! I FOUND THE GLOVES!! Look how carefully and painstakingly I (utterly subconsciously) put them in a protected zippered pocket in my purse so they wouldn't get lost! What a responsible adult I am!!

Seriously, I'm glad the store is dead inside because I yelled with glee! And Mr. W. and my boyfriend, err, bike shop boyfriend, celebrated with me! Right up until I told Bike Shop Boyfriend I was returning THOSE gloves, too. That kind of hurt his feelings, and I think he sort of wished I hadn't found them. Aw, don't be that way, baby. You know I'll come back to you again.

This was a good test for Mr. W., since he pretty much got to see me unravel from happy glove owner to despondent and broke single mom who is never, ever allowed to have any fun and life really sucks, and then back to joyful crazy lady dancing in bike shop. I kid you not (I am tired of saying "Seriously" in this post)...this man is getting the wholly unvarnished me to take or leave. Stick a fork in me, I am done.

And we all lived happily ever after. Except I forgot to call REI and tell them I found the gloves, so they can stop worrying. And I did take away money from the independent shop. And I do probably plan to return the snow pants to REI after wearing. And when Mr. W. said something sensitive like, "Is there anything I can do to make this better for you?" I did bark at him, "PUH-LEEZE do not talk to me like a self-help book."

So, I won and everyone else lost. But sometimes that's enough. And Mr. W. laughed about the self-help book comment - really, either he has a good sense of humor or I am crushing his soul by not allowing this kind and sensitive talk.

Closing sidebar: In the "five love languages" (um, acts of service - yes, do that one - a lot - it's my favorite, really this is the one I like - a lot; touch - well, yes, I love this one lots but really, Mr. W. we are still working on our boundaries because apparently you just touch a whole lot all the time like when I am "having a seizure" looking for my gloves, as my daughter describes me; gifts - well, those are nice but don't do a whole lot for me, go back to acts of service, seriously certainly, when you helped me clean my roof that was like the sexiest thing ever; quality time - well, yes, that's okay, too, but probably not a biggie for me; and then there's WORDS OF AFFIRMATION. Okay, don't bother with that one. :) I don't like feeling like I'm being "handled" (we always hate most what we need most, hahaha). Mr. W. lays these on a bit thick - or maybe he just says them at all and I have that low of a tolerance for them. He is so awesome, and really, I wish he'd realize if he didn't like me quite so much, or want to be with me quite so much, or be quite so supportive - well, I'd be all over him like white on rice. And TRULY, it is relationship karma because I see now that this is EXACTLY what I did to Greg, and I can see how he must have weighed through everything (I am not defending Greg, who was an asshat) and thought "DAMMIT, I like you so much but..." and that's where I'm at with Mr. W. When I am with him, I am crazy about him and just when I'm about to fall for the guy he hits those He's So Into You afterburners and I'm backpedaling.

Ah, we'll see. But! I! Found! My! Gloves!!

Biker Chick(en)

Wednesday night, I bailed early on in my weekly night ride with my group. It was cold outside - too warm for ice, maybe, but cold enough that I was worried about it. We were doing a new route, and it was a hill challenge. The route started with a ride through what is basically a bog with a bridge built through it. It was pure frost and ice.

I rode through it, unhappily. I don't want to fall. Logically, I know I won't bust open like Jiffy Pop, but you weren't there when my doctor reopened my incision back when I was having that fluid complication. I sort of busted open like Jiffy Pop. Ew. And I didn't even feel it, weird. One of those things that I shouldn't have watched him do, like when I watched my breast biopsy on ultra-sound years ago. Blech.

Who knows what's holding me together, but it's not duct tape.

I decided, riding across that ice, thinking about years earlier when I slipped on a wet meter cover on a rainy sidewalk and broke my ankle in two places...if anything would make me afraid of biking, it would be falling on ice and my guts busting wide open.*

*I know this probably wouldn't happen. But still. It might.

So I turned back, and Strava only logged a measly 1.9 miles. And Mr. W. turned back with me, haha, which I am certain had tongues wagging in that little group! When he said he would turn back, too, one of the men looked aghast and said "WHY?" (Bailing on a bike ride: very poor form, and with a regular group, leaves you wide open for mockery and derision, which I received later via email from the group leader, haha.) Poor Mr. W., I told him were are not a secret, but I am not interested in being the goofy biking and holding hands couple on the rides. :) He's overshot on the cloak and dagger bit...I just told the guy, "He's my carpool." Which is sort of true, as Mr. W. usually throws my bike on top of his car since it's easier than me cramming in my back seat or getting out my bike rack. He has a cool roof rack, 'cause that's how he rolls.

So, Mr. W. is taking me away for my birthday next weekend. Yay for weekend getaways! We're going to Lake Chelan Winterfest. It's fun how this all came about - I had mentioned that there is this little festival that I want to see sometime because they release Chinese lanterns over the lake (oooo, I saw this in the movie Tangled, I wanna see it in real life, not animation, haha).

I wanna see this.

So, the next time we talked, he said that Winterfest is on my birthday weekend, and he'd like to take me. Very sweet! He booked a place and told me to take a day off work, and away we go!!

Ah, I am having fun with him. I really enjoy being with him a lot. I'm wrestling a little bit, but I'm not sure if that's me or him. He is soooo nice. And a total enginerd. I mean, he loves to do the cycling, and he's fun and everything...I'm just not sure. I'm rolling with it for now (biking analogy, you catch that?). He is *really* smitten with me - that gets a little overwhelming. For you long-time readers, you'll understand when I say that I am dating me when I was with Greg. Totally lovestruck. I can see why this got on Greg's nerves so much, hahaha. Wants to be with me every free minute.

So, when I'm with him - actually in his physical presence, it's pretty great. He's thoughtful and sweet. He's touchy, like me, but a bit overly so. He listens and learns though. Seriously, I had to tell him to go sit down when I cooked dinner the other night: I do not need a backrub while frying burgers. :)

I was looking for a Buster Bluth backrub clip, but this will have to do. Had me in stitches, anyway. :)

Enginerd. I had to ask my enginerd girlfriend if her type really deserved love. She says yes, but I'm not entirely convinced yet. I swear he referred to hanging out with my family as a "cultural experience."

But...the many positives. I am so totally myself with him. I am happy and comfortable and laughing and having a good time. I walk around naked, I swear when the urge hits me (oops, this urge hits often), I do not worry about sagging hangy boobs. I get to be me, and he likes me. I like him, too. He overuses his vocabulary, exactly like I do (good lord, we could both use some language parsing). He laughs at himself and lets me laugh at him (um, this is crucial, as laughing at my friends is one of my most favorite pasttimes, hahaha). He's overly serious and overly supportive (again - can I just get a nice MIDDLE OF THE SPECTRUM MAN once in awhile). But this morning when I texted that I went to bed early and he blathered something about he's glad I got down time because we all need that and he's glad I'm having "special family time" tonight with my kids (HAHAHAHA - does he mean that I will make them help me clean the house and that I will not be beating them??)...and I just snapped and wrote back,

YOU GOOFBALL - CAN'T YOU JUST SAY "I'm glad you got to veg out and fall asleep in front of the TV like you were dying to do"! SO SERIOUS FOR A FRIDAY MORNING!*

*I did not use all caps. I save that for the blog.

And he appropriately said, "Haha, guilty as charged. Sorry!"

I think he's teachable. I feel a little like a science experiment sometimes:

When backrub was initiated while Subject was leaning over hot skillet, subject's muscles tensed rather than the expected relaxation. Subject then lashed out verbally, demanding Researcher take a seated position across the room. Facial expressions, including furrowed brow and downturned mouth, were observed and recorded. Subject visibly relaxed and engaged in spontaneous laughter while Researcher maintained adequate personal space during "cooking"* exercise.

*Note: Subject continues to prepare frozen foods (in this case, something described as "garden burgers") and describe her actions as "cooking." Possible denial behavior, possible lack of knowledge of genuine food preparation skills. Further analysis required.

Anyway - he's fun and I am enjoying myself. Not sure where this is going, if anywhere, and I do admit that I have been missing Lance Armstrong a bit, who really doesn't give much of a isht what I've been doing or what I think, but he is more than happy to pick me up and carry me whereever I want to go, or just drag me by my hair if that's more to my liking, haha. There's your big dose of over-testosteroney bicycling goodness for ya. (Um, the flip side of that is, of course, that he is a chain-smoking nicotine patch wearer who is also an alcoholic and probably technically addicted to cycling and other things, too. And he really doesn't give much of a isht about me, though he can feign well from time to time - which I think of as his version of foreplay, hahaha "Hey, how have you been?")

Middle of the spectrum, please. I do love that Mr. W. can easily laugh at himself - and he's comfortable and confident with who he is, which, as I've said, is a total enginerd. And I think as long as I get to call bullisht when it gets too deep, we'll be okay. And he called total bullisht on me this week when I was pressing to sign us up for a SNOWSHOE 10K! at Winterfest. No way. Do you know how far that is in snowshoes? Have you ever snowshoed? (Well, no.) Nuh-uh. And why pay $80 in entry fees to do something we were already going to do by ourselves? He said we can spend the $80 on the wine tours instead. Masterfully played, sir, well done.

Hrumph. Well, if you know me, it's in your best interest to stand your ground or I can be umm, a little bit steamrollery, just a little. And I don't like to be told no, or not get what I want. But my respect for him shot through the roof over that silly 10K, because I am sussing him out, making sure he has a bit of that certain je ne sais quoi (okay, I'll just say it: backbone) that has appealed to me in the post-divorce world, after steamrolling my X into a beaten down hull of a man. (Oops. I'm sorry about that.)

Bet this post is more than you bargained for, but obviously, my mental gears are working hard today. (Another cycling reference for ya there.)

Oh, Snap! And Some Thursday Things

I had a bit of a validating moment last week served up with a side of BOOYAH. Out of the blue, I got a text from Greg...I'm sure it was a single-at-Christmas loneliness thing. He asked how I was doing and we wished each other a merry Christmas. He said that his daughter has been living f/t with her mom since school started.  He said he "wanted to say hi to a person that seemed to care so much for me. I miss everything we shared together. I'm doing ok but I think I've made a few bad choices this year."

I said it was okay, we all do, it's part of the learning and growing process. It's difficult to find your feet after a divorce.

He said, "thanks for being an understanding and caring person. Maybe chat with you again soon?"

Wait for it...

"Oh, that's not necessary - I'm seeing an awesome guy who loves me for who I am and makes me feel great about myself. That was the lesson I needed to learn from you - love builds you up, not tears you down. You and I cared about each other but all you could see were my flaws and it made me feel so sad. It's crazy fun to be with someone who enjoys me for all my good qualities! I had my plastic surgery and am living on top of the world right now. You'll get there, too, because next time you'll try to love and accept people for who they are, if you care about them enough. I hope for and want that for you. Be well, Greg! I keep an eye out for you on the streets, will say hi if I see you. :) Give M. a hug for me, I have missed her."

Booyah. It felt good to say, for sure. And hearing from him has caused me to reflect on how much nicer it feels to be with someone who just likes me for me. With Greg, I didn't realize how much I pussy-footed around him, keeping my smart-assy comments to myself because I knew he didn't get my humor, etc. (I am not entirely sure Mr. W gets my humor, either, but at least he's game to try, haha. More and more, I think I am either getting weirder with age...or giving less of a isht what people think.

Anyway, that was nice closure. I'll admit - I miss him sometimes. We had fun. I liked to climb him like a tree, and he was the best.kisser.ever. Not worth the many trade-offs, though.

Kim and I have joked that my caliber of men continues to improve every time I go to the well. Mr. Wonderful, is, well, wonderful. We had a great time together over Christmas. He is incredibly thoughtful: he bought me a fancy new bike helmet (he texted later, "Designed to return you home safe after every ride, to keep your head cool on a long summer ride with extra ventilation and...to match your bike." Hahaha. He also bought me a stuff bag for my bike, and he put gingerbread and pumpkin pie Clif bars in it.

For the family, he had left a gift under the tree early, and the kids were excited to open it. This one was actually pretty funny...it's a hummingbird feeder. Which *I* am so excited about! I had noticed his tree in the front yard had several hummingbirds, and I said that I thought they went away in summer. Nope, he said, there are species that stick around all year, if you feed them. I said that our next door neighbors have feeders and the birds are so familiar they have named them.

Um, the boys were much less excited than I was about the hummingbird feeder. Alli rallied a bit better but the look on the boys' faces when they opened was priceless, hahaha. A little bit of horror, a little bit of disappointment and a little bit of polite brave face. Welcome to the world of children, Mr. W.

He had said I was easy to shop for, because when it comes to biking, I need *everything.* Ha! True dat. Still, he totally spoiled me. And he's lent me a bunch of stuff - waterproof pants and gloves, arm warmers, a balaclava (I struggle so hard with this word, haha, always wanting to say baklava. And then eat some.). He has one of everything, and c'mon, we haven't been seeing each other very long...I didn't know what the heck to get him! Besides biking, you know, we're still getting to know each other. And I think this year he said he biked 3500+ miles...so you know, that's a whole lot of biking. I ended up getting him a screaming yellow helmet rain cover...he said one day he had bought black but should have bought yellow for visibility. Well, there you go! Now he has one. :)

I'm enjoying him very much. :)

In other news, I did go on my second post-op bike ride last night...our standard Wednesday night ride that's a little hilly and a little long. O.M.G. I thought I was gonna die. It's amazing how quickly you get out of shape. Wow. On one hill I seriously wanted to get off my bike and rest. The rain was blowing sideways, it was dark and super windy. I had a blast. :) But wow, I've got some ground to regain when it comes to my fitness.

I wanted to stay home and watch Top Chef Seattle.

But I knew I'd feel better if I went out riding. :)

On Sunday, I ran a couple miles with my daughter. Well, we ran one, walked one. That also felt good, but was tiring. Baby steps. I'll get there again!

Six Weeks Post-Op and Happy Holidays!

Wow, I'm already six weeks post-op! Very exciting stuff. I am officially released from wearing my compression garment. I actually didn't wear it yesterday, when I ran a mile for the first time post-op. Ran one, walked one. It felt good - great, even - to run, but I swelled up like a blowfish afterward. Today, at work (yes, on Christmas Eve, bah humbug), I am again swelled up with a hard little Buddha belly. I may put that nasty old binder back on when I get home this afternoon.

Anyway, here are my six week post-op pics. Woohoo! I probably won't give you (m)any more nekked lady ones, because I don't know how much more things will change. Well, maybe at six months post-op we should do more nekked lady pictures, because the doctor said that's about how long it takes to see the final results. I am still definitely swollen some, which I can tell more by feeling than seeing. The nerves on my tummy are still a little odd - rubbing my belly feels a bit like rubbing someone else's belly! But that may not actually change...I knew that going into it. Also, I had that big scar on my tummy before the plastic surgery, and the feeling in that had never really been quite "right" since my spinal fusion back in 2004.

Six weeks post-op

Looking good, yes? I feel great. I still get a little tired. Last week was super busy, and admittedly, I spent a lot of time with Mr. W. Staying up a little later than I should, too. But just in general, my body feels like it's not quite recovered and I am pushing it just a little too hard. 'Tis the season! Other than that, everything is awesome.

I went on a 16-mile ride (flat) with Mr. W on Sunday and we made good time and while I was exhausted, I loved it. The running yesterday didn't physically hurt or bother me at all, but I was sore-ish in the afternoon. All in all, I feel confident that I can get back out there.

Laugh, I am going to wrap this post up as even I am a bit tired of looking at my naked torso. But I am super pleased with the results and thus far it is everything I hoped for!!

Sleep in Heavenly Peace.

Those poor babies. I can't even begin to fathom what all those parents and the community are feeling. 

As a mom, it's just too horrific to consider.

A Number of Thursday Things

Some bloggers do "Three Things Thursday," some do "Ten Things Thursday." I find that I generally have more than three things to say and not as many as ten things. So I will just say today is Thursday, and I'm going to tell you some things. :)

- Oh, hello, flat tummy complete with hints of ab muscles! It is fun to see things changing as I continue to heal. The doctor said I can stop wearing the binder/corset thing, first at night, then during the day. The compression garment goes away Christmas morning. They are an annoyance but really not any major concern of mine. Most of my clothes fit over them and I don't think I'll want to wear jeans over the scars right away, anyway. That might be a little tender!

- Hrm, hello, flabby boobs. You're still here, eh? Okay, I can COMPLETELY see how people become addicted to plastic surgery! If money were no object, well, I'd become the touch-up queen, haha. I just wanna fix this and this and this and this and...

If you knew how much I hate Carrot Top, you'd be shocked that I'd put a picture of it here.

- Thank you, scale, for reading 137.1 this morning. I know at this point all the extra weight is gone and I am all about maintenance and building a kick-ass athletic machine. But I cannot tell you how much it irritates me to have weighed more coming out of the plastic surgery to have skin removed than I did going into it. Logically, I knew to let it go, but emotionally, it was a slap in the face.

- I had another date with Mr. Wonderful last night (whom I have decided to abbreviate to Mr. W, or possibly simply "W," which I am undecided on, because "W" makes me think of George Bush, which does not create a positive mental association, but "W" also makes me think of the University of Washington, which is a very positive association. But I am a very lazy typist, and I sort of think the whole Mr. Wonderful nickname creates unrealistic expectations, yes?

(- SQUIRREL!) I sometimes think reading my blog must be like this:

- ANYWAY - I had a date last night with Mr. W. He very artfully wrangled his way into that one, first by telling me on Tuesday he was not going on Wednesday's bike ride, as he would normally do. He felt a cold coming on, maybe, but might have energy to shop. I had already said I couldn't go, but had to go buy gingerbread houses and other such materials. The kids and I are getting together with a friend and her family to do them this next Friday. I ask him what he's shopping for - he says, "gingerbread?" Well played, sir. We had a very fun evening and he didn't seem like he was getting a cold to me. :)

- And so, we are dating like high school. I like it. We haven't even held hands, haha. He stayed until midnight last night, which was all well and good for him, as he has today off, but I had to be up at 5 a.m. I told him I might just shoot him a wake up call when my alarm went off. He says that's fine, because his phone's on silent mode and he'll see it sometime late morning. So you know at 5:15 this morning I texted, "GOOD MORNING!!" And you know he shot back a response in a heartbeat - he was waiting on that one, haha. Asked me over to his place for dinner on Friday.

- Mind you, this is a college-educated professional man with no children and he is terribly taken with me, I can tell. Plus he talks to and engages my kids like they are people, which sometimes I even forget to do! (He really snuck past the whole separate-from-children rule with his "let me work on your bike" and "if you don't mind I'll just do all these other handy things for you." Tricked me.) Anyway, given his status and the fact he's interested in me, you just know he's criminally insane or something. Time will tell. :) If I were his best friend I'd be telling him "RUUUUNNNN!!!"  Seriously, good job, no kids? You couldn't NAIL me down.

- There is no small part of me saying "Thank God, he has no kids," hahaha. Sorry, I'm at capacity. :)

- On Sunday, I will finally be back on my bike! Come hell or high water. I miss it terribly. Mr. W. and I are going on a 30-something mile flat ride. I expect to do just fine. I hope to ride my Wednesday night ride next week with my bright and shiny new bike light.

- I have a 2013 calendar going on my desk with my events starting to flesh out. My dance card is filling up quickly! Alli wants to do a 5K a month, I want to do all sorts of biking events, I'm still trying to shove a couple sprint triathlons in there (I am a little nervous as people keep saying "ground support" to me and I have no ground support people. Perhaps Alli and Blake can be taught to be my support crew?). And then there's the big half marathon question! Yes, I want to do more - I really do. I planned to do See Jane Run again in July, but my new highly organized 2013 calendar tells me that it is in conflict with the Seattle to Portland ride. I will pick biking over running, just like I will pick a white cupcake with chocolate frosting over any other cupcake.

- I did a flash mob dance thing for our department's annual service award presentation on Tuesday and Wednesday of this week. Pictures to follow - I've heard they are coming. I assure you that old Julie would have never in a million years got up and shook my ass for the department. Now I'll do it for the mere privilege of being early in the cheese and crackers line. I was actually utterly destroyed with nerves, though...eek! But I survived.

- Umm, I think that's about everything. Tummy tuck report - check. Romance report - check. Biking report - check. 2013 event scheduling - check.

- OH!! We did our first family 5K this weekend! We're just considering Jen part of the family now. :) Perhaps I'll do a full race report later, but suffice to say Reid and I walked the whole thing, without one single complaint from him. Blake was going to walk with us, but as soon as the starting whistle went off, the competitive spirit took over and he bolted away, saying, "See you at the finish line." Jen saved the day, as usual, by being Alli's running partner and keeping her motivated and finishing strong. Alli wanted to finish in 46 minutes and she nailed it! Seriously, without Jen there it would have been a shambles because I could only walk, Alli was nervous about running alone and afraid she wouldn't keep herself motivated to run instead of walk, etc. Our household was in FULL DITHER MODE all morning with everyone strategizing what would happen if Jen didn't come along. But she did, and I am eternally grateful. :)

I love this picture. Absolutely cracks me up.

Freedom! One-Month Tummy Tuck Post-Op Appt

Yay, I just had my one-month post-op appointment and all is well. Doctor said everything looks fantastic and I don't have to come back for a couple months. My abdomen is still *slightly* uneven on the left side from the fluid build-up complication, but he said it will go down on its own within a few months. Actually, with the whole procedure, he has said all along you won't see the full results for a few months. I'm not worried about it - I don't think it's anything you can see unless you are me, looking straight down at my belly, or my doctor, looking at it specifically. And certainly you can't see it with my clothes on!

Worst case scenario, if it's still uneven at six months' post-op he said he will go back in there and do a little lipo. Let's hope it doesn't come to that! I want to heal and be healed. But it wouldn't cost me anything. Today they did ultrasound on it for ten minutes, which actually did a lot to soften that area up.

Happily, I have been released for full activity! He told me I'm like a race horse chomping at the bit at the starting line. Well, I don't know about that, but I am excited to do SOMETHING! It's funny how your body just gets used to all the exercise. Then when you stop - well, I don't know about you, but I'm nearly *vibrating* with excess energy all the time, just wanting to MOVE!

And now I can. He just said not to overdo it. And he said if I do overdo it, my body will tell me and I'll pay closer attention the next time, haha. He also said in two weeks I can start doing ab crunches and other ab exercises. Hrm, I'll take that one under advisement, hahaha.

And sooooooo...I'm doing a bike ride on Sunday. A nice flat route. My bikey-bikey friend, oh crap - let's give him a nickname right now, shall we?? Hmm. I'll tell you - so far, without so much as a kiss, this guy has driven me and my bike home, bought and installed fenders on my bike, changed all the light bulbs in my garage, brought me a box-load of CFL light bulbs (hahaha this one cracked me up - he works for the power company and I am perhaps one of their biggest abusers), remembers all my children's names (even I can't do that most times) and speaks to them like people, and my favorite, when he said, "You're moving around great - what kind of surgery did you have?" and I looked him square in the eye and said, "I lost a lot of weight. I had a tummy tuck." His response was, "Awesome! And you're already keeping up with the fast riders!" Big points earned on that one, and a sideways F-you to Greg, wherever he is. (Side bar: I'm a bit surprised I haven't seen Greg, as I walk the streets (woohoo!) at lunch and he works the streets. Doesn't that make us both sound naughty? Seriously, I go walking almost daily at lunch and he's on the electrical crews for the bus lines. When we were dating, I saw him on the street quite frequently without pre-arranging. Haven't run into him in awhile, but when I do you can bet I'm going to flash him. First the abs, then the finger, haha.

Oh, back to the nickname for my bikey-bikey friend as he's earned one. In the "Five Love Languages," I am a total "Acts of Service" girl. So changing my garage light bulbs? Purrrrr. Doesn't get much sexier than that, baybee. We'll call him Mr. Wonderful.

Anyway, I went out with Mr. Wonderful yesterday and he invited me to ride on Sunday...a nice perfectly flat route he is well-familiar with. He said we can go as fast or slow as I want, stop whenever I want, whatever it takes. I think I'll be just fine, actually. In this regard, I really am  a race horse chomping at the bit. :)

Now, back to Mr. Wonderful. Oh, we had fun! He's a nice boy. Do you remember the movie Fast Times at Ridgemont High? The girl fools around with the bad boy, gets pregnant, gets her heart broke, etc. Then ends up with the nice guy at the end and the movie closes saying they are "Having a passionate love affair. But still haven't gone all the way."

Perfect. Post-divorce, I have myself plenty of little flashes in the pan and I still have one or two of them kicking around for my occasional amusement. :) But Mr. Wonderful is all like, wanting to spend time with me. Fun. Different. I do not see Lance Armstrong changing any light bulbs for me, haha. We're just going to go with this one, very slowly, and see what happens.

He invited me to play badminton on Thursday. Um, no. I do not think I should be jumping around badmintoning already. Plus, I would horrifically suck at that, and I told him so. I'm the one who got  a "D" in tennis in college, donchaknow. (That was a technicality, but still, a D is a D.)

He's only been divorced since May and with the biking training stuff coming up early next year, I think it's the perfect reason to just chill and get to know each other. We certainly have had lots to talk about. I can't say I feel fireworks flying between us, but I am very much enjoying spending time with him. I can say that of the men I have felt fireworks flying from the start...well, it has generally been a flash fire. :)

Duh - did I even say what we did? We went downtown Seattle and walked around window shopping. Saw the James Bond movie "Skyfall" at my most favoritest theater in the world, the Cinerama. Had dinner at the Chinese restaurant by my house (bahaha, I think I have a reputation there, coming in on a new man's arm every time. What can I say, it's good food!). He dropped me back off home and said hello to the kids - asked Alli how her orchestra concert went last week, chatted with the boys (see, he's just nice!). Gave me a hug and a quick kiss goodbye - hmmm, interesting.

Regardless, I think I'm done online dating. It is much more fun to hang around with someone like this, who already knows I swear like a sailor and drink like a fish. :) Whom I didn't have to hang my head in shame and say that I have three kids. ;) And he asked me out anyway. So much less pressure. Plus, right from the start he's seen me a sweaty, helmet-haired mess so anywhere I go from there is up! Yesterday he said he feels underdressed when he's with me: I told him with all this binder stuff I'm wearing my options are sweat pants or skirts and I thought he'd appreciate the skirt more. He wholeheartedly agreed. So he's not not interested in me, I think he's just like all gentlemanly and stuff. Cuh-razy!

Did I ever mention he's Asian? Chinese descent, I think - although we haven't talked about it. Although we talked about my background because I could not remember if Larsen's Bakery in Seattle was Swedish or Norwegian, and I said could feel my grandpa rolling in his grave as it was on my tongue to say "Same difference," haha. It's Danish, by the way. I'm an odd mix, 1/4 Swedish, 1/4 Eskimo and 1/2 whatever European muddling my dad's side threw together. Anyway - I have dated men from all colors of the rainbow, but never an Asian guy so this is uncharted territory for me.

Anyway, Mr. Wonderful said he'd swap out my bike pedals for me (purrrrrrrr) before Sunday's ride if I want him to, but I think a flat ride at my own pace ought to be fine. It's the hilly stuff I worry about!

And finally, back to the flat belly wrap up. Wow! Tummy is looking awesome. I'm so pleased! I still have to wear the compression garment for a couple weeks but I can stop wearing the corset-y binder. He's sent me off to buy some new silicon strips for scar healing/fading, so I'll be researching those, as well. I'll keep ya posted.

End of a Long Week

Whew! I've just finished the first week back to work and back to having the kids at home. They were even around a couple extra days this week, as X and I had horse-traded some days to accommodate my surgery recovery.

I'm doing great - surgery results are awesome! My only complaint right now, and it is a minor one, is that wearing a crotchless bodysuit for six weeks is NOT AS SEXY AS YOU MIGHT IMAGINE! Hahaha. That part I am tired of, for sure. It rides up on my thighs. It gives me wedgies. It annoys me to no end.

However. That's a pretty small complaint. I am guessing when I go back to the doctor on Monday I will be given a clean bill of health. Originally, he had said no running for three weeks after surgery, no biking for four. Then when I had my fluidy-complication, he said all bets were off.

Well, I'll show him - I ran for the bus yesterday morning without even thinking about it and it didn't bother me one bit. I stopped when I remembered I wasn't supposed to be running. Well, okay, I stopped when I got on the bus, but I chastised myself for running.

I did willfully run for the bus again this morning, but that was serious business, as if I missed it, it was really going to throw the day off-kilter. Again, no apparent problems with running. Although I do think of some horrible horror book I read when I was a young kid babysitting, I think it was called "Funhouse." Anyway, someone got gutted, and their final thoughts were they would be okay if they "just didn't fall down." Well, of course he fell down. With all this incision work on me, there's a little bit of "Wow, I hope I don't bust open like a Jiffy Pop."

Kinda looks like me right now.

Alright, more later. Tomorrow I'm either walking a 5K or bailing on a 5K because of the weather. I will talk to the most motivated 5K'er in my house, Alli, tonight about it. I registered the whole family (kids were free) so I'm trying to gauge a) if I feel like walking a 5K; b) if I feel like dragging two grumbling boys through a 5K.

Date on Sunday with bikey-bikey friend. (Seriously, I'm getting worse and worse at nicknames, if that were possible.) I'll have to take Kim's suggestion she cribbed from some book and just start calling them "Ex-boyfriend Number xx," bahahaha. I have been laughing at that for days. We're going to see uhhh, the James Bond movie. I don't care what movie we see, it's at my favorite theater so thass' why I chose it. 

They don't make 'em like this anymore. 

He's never been there. Prepare to be wowed, sir. It's gorgeous. It's one of Paul Allen's pet projects.

Back to the Real World!

I'm returning to work tomorrow after taking three weeks off following my tummy tuck surgery, instead of the two weeks I originally planned. I just needed a bit of extra recouperation time, nothing serious. I did have a minor complication arise: I was building up fluid on one side of my belly where fluid ought not build up.

That was a bit of a bummer because it required, and will require, a bit more attention from the doctor. On Monday, he said that on Friday he would have to re-install a surgical drain if the fluid didn't go away on its own. It didn't seem to be happening, so I was pretty sure I'd need the drain. In fact, on Thursday, based on our phone conversation, he said I would need the drain.

Happily, on Friday, he poked and prodded me with needles and decided no drain was required. I was still building up fluid, but not enough that a drain would help. He re-opened the incision about 1.5 cm and some fluid drained on its own. Likewise, he stuck the needle directly into my belly in a few places and drew out some fluid. I was numbed up, of course. :)

Tomorrow I'm back to work full-time and I'm pretty sure it will be fine. I'll do a bit of schedule re-arranging and take my shower at night for awhile. I am still trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey under my clothes! Compression garment, silicone strips over the scars held in place with maxi-pads...an elastic binder around my waist...ooooo, mama feeling sexy, haha. N-O-T.

Although I did see Lance Armstrong after my doctor appointment on Friday - he lives close by my doctor's and we strolled REI together. He's still smoking and biking, and now he's frenetically hiking every nearby mountain on the weekends. Remind me not to see Lance Armstrong in 2013, will you please? He's just so darn cute. Like. to. touch. And as we said about last year's holiday boyfriend, #funbutnottheone. And truthfully, LA isn't even all that fun. He is silly texts and a couple phone conversations a week, and stolen moments when he's not working swing shift or scaling mountains.

I told my daughter this afternoon that I turned myself into an exercise addict and then cut myself off cold turkey with this surgery and now I am depressed. Plus, I live in Seattle. I need to just spring for the $40 and buy the "Happy Light" from Costco. I am as Seasonally-Affected-Disorder as they come. Bah.

Oh, Seattle, how I love thee. And loathe thee.

Let's see...I've been out of the blogging mindset for a bit so how shall I catch up? I am very, very happy with my post-op tummy. The scars are a mess but will fade and they won't bother me. It will definitely be a battle to avoid the "if I could only fix this next" syndrome. However, I bought myself a couple of great bras while I was on leave and look like I got a boob job, too, haha.

I am burned out on the recovery period. Bah. And it's not even that bad. :) I am just a whiner. I'm not in much pain, I am nearly fully-functional, etc. Nothing to complain about. But tired of it. Oh! I'll see the doctor next Monday and he will start ultra-sound treatments on my belly to soften the scar tissue. This is extra-special treatment stemming from the fluid build-up, which he says will make my belly much harder than it ought be.

My bikey-bikey friend asked me out via text today, followed up by a phone call. I knew he was going to sometime. And I am happy, but also...hmm, don't fruck up my biking time, buddy. He leads a lot of the rides, and will likely lead the training group I'm in next spring for the Seattle to Portland ride, or the one I'm actually interested in, the Seattle to Vancouver BC ride. So this is dicey territory we're stepping into here.

He's very cool. Last week he came over and put fenders on my bike, as well as installing my new super-bright light. I had him bring the bike into the living room and he sat and worked on it and hung out with me and the kids. I made us a lame dinner (I had stocked up on frozen foods in preparation for my surgery) and he sat and ate and chatted with all of us for hours. Very nice man. My age - actually a year or so younger, he graduated high school a year behind me. No kids of his own, but he wished he had. Divorced. He was great, the way he chatted up the kids comfortably but without being weird or overly interested, if you know what I mean.

So let's see, so far he's carpooled me home, did all sorts of tinkering and such on my bike, replaced a couple light bulbs in the garage (oops - see, I was thinking we'd have to work on the bike in the garage, but it was soooooo cold, I decided there was no reason not to bring it inside. Hardwood floors. So it was cute when he texted me today. When he was over last, Alli was reading The Outsiders. I said that I had seen the movie 100+ times when it came out in 1983, when I was her age. Bikey-bikey (he'll get a nickname soon) said he had missed this phenomenom. I told him I'd have him over when we watched the movie. However, last night Alli and I found it On Demand and watched it.

He said, "I thought you were going to let me watch the Outsiders with you - maybe next time? What's our next adventure? I can install a bunch of CFL bulbs [oops, I had regular ole incandescents in the garage], or will you let me take you to a movie instead?"

I said yes, but that I wanted to get back to work and see how I did with long full big-girl grownup days. We'll have fun. Just please don't screw up my biking. :) It's like dating someone you work with, so fraught with peril, except I like biking so much more than work, haha.

First Holiday Cards in Several Years :)

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