DD

Bug and I have been in Milwaukee since Thursday. I ran this crazy trail run on Saturday put on by a bunch of Nordic skiiers. These people are like f'ing MOUNTAIN GOATS. The race starts and it's mildly uphill, starting on grass. There are some 15 year old girls running in front of me and I'm all, c'mon ladies, move aside. We reach the dirt trail and it starts getting steeper and I'm still OK, and I even pass a few, and then there's more uphill, and then there's some careening downhill, and more uphill, and I look at my watch convinced we've been running for like almost 30 minutes and it's only been 18:37 and as I labor to shuffle up the next hill my goal immediately shifts from "beating the high schoolers" to "finishing without having a heart attack." I finished in like 56 and some change, which isn't so bad for a 10K considering I did do an obnoxious amount of walking. Outta my league. Can you be a good trail runner and a good road runner? Or do you need to pick just one to be able to train right?

Then we celebrated Aunty E's birthday tonight, which was very fun, even though Bug still does not tolerate ice cream.

I am not looking forward to the drive back home tomorrow. The drive out here got off to a bit of a rough start. To get my way through, I thought about how I might have live blogged it:

(Thursday morning)

9:45 AM: We leave the house

10:00 AM: Arrive at the Caribou drive-thru

10:03 AM: Order.

10:10 AM: We are still in line, waiting for the coffee. Seriously? They need to make a drip coffee-only lane. Mini vans are slow no matter what the situation.

10:15 AM: We leave the drive thru.

10:15:39 AM: Screaming from the backseat. Lulu is plastered against the back window. How the hell did she get it back there??

10:16 AM: "STOP CRYING."

10:17 AM: I pull off on the Lyndale exit, and into the REI parking lot. "MAMA DOESN'T LIKE IT WHEN YOU ACT STUPID."

"Stupid!" she repeats.

I get out of the car, open the hatch, and rescue Lulu. We get back on the highway.

10:18 AM: She is crying again. I give her the magna doodle that I thought was going to be a sure-fire car trip winner. She can't reach to put the magnet shapes back on the board when she holds it in her lap. She is whacking at it in frustration. There are more tears. I am not really paying attention to the road. I flip it around and she doesn't like that, either. I wrestle it from her clenched fingers and I toss it back in the front seat. Now she's even more mad. I give her the pacifier. We're not even past the airport yet.

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We end up stopping in Eau Claire for chicken nuggets. She falls asleep soon after we get back on the road and pulls an AMAZING nap, the likes of which have not been seen in months. I turn the iPod to something other than "Baby Jazz" and Yo Gabba Gabba, but I still find myself humming, "There's a party in my tummy, so yummy, so yummy!" We're past Tomah before she wakes up again.

2:18 PM: "Poopy diaper."

"You have a poopy diaper?"

"Ya."

"You do not have a poopy diaper."

"No poopy?"

"No."

2:20 PM: "Elmo poopy diaper."

"Elmo has a poopy?"

"Ya." Pause. "No poopy."

"No more poopy?"

"No."

We stop in the Dells because there is a sign for Dunkin Donuts, and I want/NEED DESPERATELY coffee not from the gas station. I tell her she can get a special treat ("peshal teeet"). I buy her three donut holes. She takes one bite and spits it out.

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I promise when we drive to California I will be more witty and remember to take notes, which will be easier because I will not be driving (alone).

I should have packed up the car tonight while she's sleeping but I'm too tired and eating these M&Ms is much better.

This is my game face, Mom. Get ready.