The amount of time my blog has languished is laughable/pathetic/hateful/disgraceful. Its like I gave up on cooking (blogging) and just use the microwave (twitter) for everything. There are worse things.
Life is bueno here in the 801. Racing with my fabulous DNA Cycling p/b K4 racing team has been awesome. I should note that certain race announcers (not Dave Towle) have interchanged the "4" for a "Y" which is equal parts horrifying and awesome. But anyway, I am super happy to be on this team this year!
There was a slight speed bump with a last lap crash 2 weeks ago at Dana Point GP...I got a little scraped up and kinda busted up my hand...luckily its my left hand and who needs to use their front brake/front shifter anyway? In spite of the crash, we had a really fun weekend catching up with Johnny G and Jen in the OC disorder and hanging with the Kims who we convinced to join us out there. Or as teammate Cathy puts it, she generally just does what I say. Or as I put it, never EVER question me.
At Dana Point, Dman did his first "race." Oh my awesome. Dave Towle killed it with the announcing in the 4 and under race. Dman just finished with the field but he did go for a few primes. Actually he just strides amongst the fray kinda taking it all in. We couldn't tell if he had fun but he keeps talking about his race number, and how he'll use his race number for the next race (which I of course threw away--is he trying to say he wants to stage race??)
In other competition/challenge areas of life, we are trying to potty train Dman. I might have a better chance of adding 40 watts to my threshold power because this is amounting to a mega stiff challenge. And if the potty training wasn't hard enough, it has become something for the Hubs and I to argue about. (He wants to use tough love/consequences, I want to use cupcakes/hugs and lots of vino for myself). And its not like we are spazzing out about D needing to ditch the diapers (the financial and
sanitary benefit are compelling though), but we have a drop dead(diaper) deadline of June 5, wherein Dman can take FREAKING SWIMMING LESSONS through his daycare, BUT ONLY IF HE IS POTTY TRAINED. My armpits are sweating just typing that out. If anyone has magic suggestions that don't involve quarantining yourself in the house for 4 days straight, please let me know.
Other than the utter lack of disregard for his parents' sanity with respect to the potty training, Dman is the freaking best. I continue to be super super grateful for the extra time I get with him these days as I am still not gainfully employed. He is just a part-time student at Miss Billie's right now, going every morning, and then hanging with me after 1 pm every day. He is getting really good at pushing mine and the Hubs' buttons, but that is a good life skill and also he is pretty awesome and hilarious (that is totally unbiased).
Dman has taken to calling things his best friends. On our road trip down to Moab to meet up with Funcle Dave, there was some road construction so there was a shitload of heavy equipment...After pointing out machine after machine he just exclaimed, "Diggers, you are my best friends!" It can be heavy equipment, cars, buses (any vehicle really) or food. Especially cupcakes. That's a separate post but is eloquently articulated here (also she rules).
But it is a kind of awesome way to look at things. I had a really nice ride yesterday in Mill Creek Canyon and as I was coming down, I said "Mill Creek, you are my best friend!" Try it, it will make you happy. So will cake.
The Unbearable Lightness of Crabon
19 minutes ago