Sunday: Swim

I have to say that this weekend went from shrimp cocktail to quiche to queso to pizza really rapidly.  I always find myself wondering after eating like this for a few days: Is this how people that have to have a wall taken down to get them out of their houses get started?

I occasionally get sucked into these specials on The Learning Channel (TLC), The 900 Pound Woman, The Man Who Weighs a Ton, and various other specials, and I will say that their fate usually does involve a fair amount of Mexican food and queso.  It generally also involves some deep deep ignorance about food. For instance, thinking that drinking a Big Gulp Coca Cola is better for you than a milkshake, so you might call it healthy.  For instance, eating fried rice because "Japanese" food is healthier than McDonald's.

OK, by even recalling the eating horrors that transpire on those terrible shows, I have made myself feel a lot better about my weekend.  I mean, there was a lot of fruit and salad mixed in with my terrible foods.  I have not had a Coca Cola or a Dr. Pepper in 6 months.  It is all going to be OK.   The walls of my house can remain intact.  I can now move onto other things.

Sloan the Younger and I headed to church this morning, and I have to say that I know that Church is not the place to display massive amounts of pride, but my child was ridiculously cute today.  I have no choice, but to post pictures of his adorableness.  Of course, this all devolved rather quickly.

Now, today was the post church coffee.  It happens about once a month, and we Sloans are big attenders as they always have church punch, fruit and coffee.  While we were going through the paper plate buffet, Young Sloan pulled a pair of chopsticks out of my handbag.  I will say this was no surprise.  If he had pulled out a ship's anchor or the Shroud of Turin or Jimmy Hoffa, alive and well, I would not bat an eye.  There is no telling what you will find in my handbag.  I sincerely meant to clean it out thoroughly over the Spring Break week, but it just did not happen.

Anyway, I was nonplussed about the chopsticks.  They were keeping everyone quiet, and I was able to socialize.  Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the chopsticks moving as if on their own into a bowl of mixed nuts.  When nuts began raining onto the floor like confetti, I lunged for the chopsticks.  Young Sloan, in turn, fought AS IF FOR HIS LIFE to keep the chopsticks, and when he saw that he was losing the mommy fight, he threw the chopsticks into the air with all his might where they landed in front of a stunned woman on a walker.  Now, fully in a temper, Young Sloan took the stuffed dog ("Doggie") that was in his other hand and  hurled it over his head, where it landed on the buffet table, and one of the long floppy ears landed in an older man's coffee.

IT WAS A DRAMA.  WE WERE A SPECTACLE.  Young Sloan knew immediately that he was going to be the target of some hardcore consequences, and he threw himself prone on the floor.  I was left with no choice but to muscle him out to the car, while murmuring harsh remonstrances that all seemed to start with "I never in my life....", "Young Man....", or "Just wait until we get home...." like I was Tom Sawyer's Aunt Polly.

At home, I could not get someone down for a nap fast enough.  I put him down for a nap, and then laid on my bed staving off hyperventilation.  This child rearing is stressful.

In the afternoon, I got out to swim.  Workout was not long, but I was falling apart by the end of it.  Wasn't maintaing my pace, I got passed in the lane, I got lumped with the slower group and whatever!!! I can't be beating myself up over swim.  Workout as follows:

• 400 warmup
• 800 swim @ T-30 pace
• 600 swim @ T-30 pace
• 400 swim @ T-30 pace
• 200 swim @ T-30 pace
• 100 swim @ T-30 pace
• 100 easy