Not such a loser after all.....

As Adele would sing...."Hello.....it's me....."

Today is the perfect day to catch up on business as we are snowed in.....Yep.....no one is going anywhere...no Starbucks......errands.....gym....food store....nothing...nada......It's called Jonas, for some reason. Since when did we name snow storms? As a kid this would be amazing except it is snowing on a Saturday....as an adult, this is also amazing AND it is snowing on a Saturday!

Dad and the big kid worked on the snow blower and it is ready for action even though the snow removal experts in my home are still in bed. Nevertheless, they are ready....although......

The driveway has already been plowed! It seems that the man who mows our lawn took it upon himself to remove the snow. I watched as he did it even though I never ordered it. Guess what? I am really happy that he did it. The last thing dad needs is to go outside in a blizzard and try to remove snow from the driveway with wind gusts up to 50 mph. And the big lefty is still limping, so he does not need the extra work out...and so...I watched and applauded the guy as he went up and down the driveway removing the first layer of snow. I have to admit that when dad finds out, he will verbally express his displeasure then look outside and be relieved.....

On another note, I joined the Biggest Loser at my gym this month. My goal was to fit in my pants without needing a crow bar. It took a great deal for me to decide to do this since I have a distorted view of how my body looks. I wanted to think that I was a size zero, but I cannot live in this state of denial so, I bit the bullet and convinced a friend to join with me.

When I was weighed and measured, I asked the trainer not to tell me the weight. After all, the number does not reflect how I physically feel and would depress me, so I kept my eyes closed.....he did not gasp or gulp when he wrote the number on my measurements sheet.



Anyway, the first night of the competition, I looked around at the 30 people who I am competing against....of the 30, there were 2 whom I thought should be there. The rest were like me with their pants size on their minds. We were divided into three teams and given tee shirts with our team colors on them. I am on Team green...also know as kiwi.....I looked at the other kiwis and figured we were doomed as a team. A kiwi  raised his hand and asked if he got points for working out at hotels when he traveled for work. The answer was 'no'. Another kiwi asked if playing tennis would help to accrue points. Again...another 'no.'

Doomed...our team is doomed!

Anyway, that night the trainers worked us out and I felt the feeling of doom again. Dang! I really do need this program as I tried squats, crunches, jumping jacks, treadmill running, stair climbing, and burpies. My kiwi colored shirt was drenched by the end of the night as I looked forward to a very hot shower.

The weeks have gone by and I am feeling the results. In fact, I wore slacks to work on Wednesday and did not need any vaseline around the hips.

Here is how the competition goes...we are to work out, attend nutritional counseling, create a wonderful low fat dinner, and wear our tee shirts while at the gym. Each event has a point total. For example, if you attend an exercise class with your tee shirt on, you accrue 3 points for yourself and the team. Ok, this works...so I have been fairly steady attending a class and hitting the treadmill until it happened......

A member of the purple team was in the gym more than I was. In fact, the big lefty works at the desk at the gym while rehabbing and he would text me with the words.."you're screwed...the ringer is here. Better get here....." Dang. just what I need.....more competition, so I upped my workouts to daily with an extra exercise class. Thinking that I was going to be the winning 'loser', a team mate said to me..."this is my third class today."



Huh? What? You are going to more than 1 class a day? Seriously? That's three hours in the gym, lifting, running, and squatting....seriously? How often do you do this?

Her response was 'every day."

Like the big lefty said...I am screwed.....

And so, here I am...in a biggest loser contest and there is no way that I can possibly take the trophy. No way in the world. I don't have three hours in the gym to give to the kiwis. So, I am going to have to reconcile that I am not a big loser but a little loser....



With that, I am going to work today and maybe hit the treadmill in the basement for a bit.....

Stay warm and dry!

Peace!

Getting ready

Good evening! I'\m back and ask forgiveness for not posting. The reality is that we are in a holding pattern until the surgery on November 2. Until then, there is no good, juicy baseball news....except....

The guys from Seattle contacted the Big kid. It seems that the Czar and Psycho contacted them for more information about their program. if you are a regular reader, you know that to do these exercises and programs are taboo. The guys could be cut from the team....Yet......

Over the summer, one of the frosh, now sophomores contacted the big lefty to ask for advice. He sent films to him and wanted to work out using his techniques. Being a softie, the big guy gave it to him. Then he analyzed the sophs films and sent him advice. During fall ball, this kid hit 95 consistently.

When asked by the coaches what he had done over the summer, he told him that he followed this program. Figuring that he would be cut, the coaches contacted Seattle for more information. Remember, my son was not allowed to mention other protocols for fear of reprisals. Times have changed a bit, eh?

Anyway, the lefty is in a good place. He is ready for surgery and has a job at a baseball and fitness center when he recovers until he heads back out west. All things plus the stars and moon have aligned as he is ready to go.

Hopefully, I will be able to post more before the surgery. Unfortunately, work has been crazy. With the online format, I have doubled my work. In other words, my face is always looking at a screen....except today, when I took the afternoon off to take the pups to the vet. They are healthy and a good weight. They got their shots and after their appointment, Tink and I took them to Petsmart for bones and toys. Yes, I know, they are dogs, but they received two shots in the rear ends....so they got a cute toy for their troubles.

Ok, I have to go online to read my students' posts and grade some quizzes.....

OR.....

I could go to bed and watch television.....

Later!

Don't blink!

I'm back! It was Pope-mania this weekend as hundreds of thousands of pilgrims descended upon the city. As planned, Tink and I volunteered for the festivities and to assist with the World Meeting of Families that met throughout the week.



Not knowing what the future held, I worked out, bought new sneakers with tread and arch support, new expensive runner's socks, and planned to meet and greet the Pontiff.

With all due humility, I assumed that my volunteer position would be driving the Pope or opening the Fiat's door.....OK, not really. I figured that I would be collecting tickets somewhere. Actually, I could not have been more wrong.

On Monday, Tink and I drove to the city, parked, and registered participants from all over the planet. It was fascinating meeting people from all walks of life who saved for a trip to Philly! Really? Philly?

Yes, Philadelphia, the City of Brotherly Love who has the reputation for throwing snowballs at Santa at an Eagles game in the '60s. Can't live that one down, right Jim Gaffigan? He actually told a joke about the snow ball fiasco at a gathering on the Parkway in front of hundreds of thousands of people. He was booed....and showed shock on his face when it happened. Dude, old news...move on to another Philly blunder.....more recent...let's say in the last 30 years.

Anyway, Tink and I stood at our kiosk for 6+ hours testing my new sneakers and socks....they failed miserably, to which I added Dr Scholls gel pads (to be discussed later.).

On Thursday, since I am a newbie with public transportation, Tink and I hit the railroad and almost missed the train as I mentioned in the last post. Not to make the mistake again, I scoured the online rail schedule and memorized stupid trivia while not really figuring out what to do.

Finally, Saturday comes and dad drops us off at the station. Prepared for the worse, there were more cops and national guard members than train riders. In fact, we have to serpentine our way through a maze to get to the train only to have the doors close as we started to board.

Really? Is this how it is going to go?

Finally, before the train left, the doors magically opened and we entered to our choice of seats. Uh, where are the people?

As the train left, we sat back and expected to be taken right into Philly, when the train stopped at Penn. Hmmm.....Mr. Conductor? We are not in center city, what gives?

All out!

Huh? Yep, we had to leave the train and take another train to our destination. Good grief! Is this seamless? 

After waiting 30 minutes for the center city train, I had the opportunity to speak to one of the "SEPTA ambassadors" who suggested that I take the airport train into the city since there were no stops and it ran all day. My proposed itinerary was problematic since the departing trains from the city did not begin to leave until 6p. I would be stuck there for hours on end waiting to get home. Keep in mind, roads were closed. We were trapped until 6p until I discovered the airport train.

Anyway, once in the city, Tink and I walked to our assignment. Was it having lunch with the Pope? Hanging out with Mark Wahlberg? Joe Biden?

None of the above.

We were positioned at the bottom of the Benjamin Franklin Bridge from New Jersey which was closed (the bridge to traffic, not New Jersey), but people were allowed to walk over it. We were to greet people as we wore orange tee shirts with Volunteer plastered on the front. The toughest question a person had for me was where was Independence Hall. I pointed to a large green sign that said "Independence Hall" and that was basically it. We were on the outskirts of the city. No where near the action....feeling a bit sad.

After a few hours of pointing at the sign, Tink and I moved on to the activities. Not being able to get through the check points, we hung out, ate lunch, and went home.

Before we left, we were walking past an intersection that had a large presence of police men and women from all over the country. A couple was sitting in a chair waiting. I asked them what was going on? They replied: "The Pope should be coming through here soon."

Are you sure? They would not tell the volunteers what the route was for security purposes. How do you know this?

"We think that he is coming through because of all of the cops standing around."

Hmmm.....through process of elimination or deduction, this couple seemed to have figured it out. So, Tink and I stood next to them. After waiting for an hour, a kindly cop walked up to me and said: "I hate to see you stand here, but this is not the Pope's route".

Gulp! Drat!

"He is going to be on 7th street coming off the expressway."



Guess what? This is where Tink and I had been stationed earlier. You know, the place where nothing was going on.

Off we went almost running through the streets and knocking down anyone or thing in our way.....limping in my new sneakers and runners' socks realizing that the gel foam pads were virtually ineffective.

As we got to the street corner, there was already a crowd. Rats. We were in the second row.....then we look.....there are people in the orange volunteer shirts who were standing in the street. That's right...in the street, next to the cops and national guardsmen.



Hmmm....I ponder......

I am wearing an orange shirt....perhaps they need two more orange shirt volunteers to help them to manage the crowd as we slipped into the street. Yeah, this works.

And we waited and waited and waited....finally, the moment comes. We were ready with our cell phone cameras. The moment......Then it happened......

The police moved us. Everyone behind the barriers.



What?

I am a volunteer! I wear an orange shirt! I passed a criminal background screening that said I was 'not a felon.' Behind the barriers??


Slowly we moved toward the barriers when a police officer said to the entire crowd. "Get back and let the volunteers in to the front."


Ok, officer, you are my hero. And there we were....front row...waiting for the Fiat.....then the procession begins.  Camera ready.......suddenly I get a phone call and my camera goes dead.

Dang! Now! Really? I clicked on delete.

Ready again.....

Phone call......Why can't I have a moment to take the Pope's picture? Delete.

Phone call....I answer it. "Stop calling! I am waiting for the Pope! Dang!"

The crowd roars. The Fiat is in view. No phone calls......here he is...I click photos. I got a photo of his arm and the nice police officer.....2 seconds. Obviously, the Pope was in a hurry.

It's over....time to go since we did not have tickets for the event. Off to the train....limping slowly, we got on the air port train being grateful for the 2 second glimpse of the man who is changing the way the world views the poor, marginalized, and most vulnerable. May his tenure as Pope continue for a long time. I know that I have been impacted by his words and will try to live a better life.


Next post: Sunday....a day to forget.......

Off to work....
Peace!

Yes, the gelato was good

I'm baaack......and backed up.....like nothing before. I guess that I have been denying that I am really back at work....the work will go away if I ignore it. Yet, this is not the case and I have to put my head down and begin to think....

Although....my mind wanders and wants to chill because it really did not chill this summer, at all....all I could think about on my time off was that I was going to have to return to work...lo and behold, rather than relaxing, I was stressing myself out. Now, it is here. The moment that I dreaded.....OK, not dreaded. I think that I need one more week...in solitary confinement, not in a Louisiana prison (more about that later), but in a spa...massage....facial...reflexology....solitude tank.....no television, cell phone, iPad....

Actually, I am glad to be back at work. Now I can focus on what has to be done and can go back to counting Weight Watchers Points to fit into the fall and winter clothes.
 

On to what has happened....first, BD had a bit of a spill in a parking lot...twisted an ankle, visited the good folks in the Er via an ambulance....and is now working to retrieve her mobility. Honestly...it was an accident...a gelato accident. We were finishing our gelato and there was a hole in the asphalt and poor BD found it. This made for an interesting few days as the pups tried to nurse her back to health. Although, as Christina would sing..."thanks for making me a fighter..."

On to the big kid.....some of you know that my wedding anniversary was a few weeks ago. Immersed in jury duty, dad suggested that I do not purchase a gift for him and that he ordered something to be delivered south where we planned to spend Labor Day weekend with BD and the pups. OK, so be it....

When I arrived from my flight to join the family (I came last), a car pulled up to pick me up. It looked like the car, but dad was not behind the wheel, but a young man, so I waited. I stepped away from the car and looked for another car to pick me up. Then the young man honked the horn. Looking around, I thought that he was there for another person, then the window came down....."Hi mom!"

Yep! The young man was mine and I was floored. "You are supposed to be in Seattle! Are you OK? Why are you here?"

"I am your present."



Oh my goodness. I have never ever been given a nicer gift in my life. I lost it, ran to him, hugged the stuffing out of him, embarrassed the big kid....and could not stop hugging him. This was a moment I will never forget. I still get misty thinking about it. I definitely needed a lift and a half after this horrific trial (more about that later, since I have to go to work).

We spent the weekend together and I could not have been happier except for poor BD's ankle. And yes, the gelato was pretty darn good.

The gang spent the weekend fishing and I was able to hit a few tennis balls and hang out with BD. All in all, it made me more restless about returning to work. Oh well, no complaints....

The last story that I will share is the big lefty's conversation with me the night before we returned.
"Mom, I do not know if I want to do this any more...."

Huh? Wha? Seriously? Really?

Hey, he can do whatever he wants BUT he has to finish this process. And so, he continued to explain that he is tired of working out....tired of hurting....tired of being poor.....OK, scratch the poor part....the bills have been paid by his momma. He has been put on a budget by his dad in the last few weeks and therefore has limited access to cash.

Back to the conversation....we left it at.....he's going back....going to finish what he started....coming home and working out at a local baseball facility. He also wants to work as an intern at a cousin's corporation to earn money and 'take the burden of supporting him off us." Nice.

My BP Mom take on it...the flame thrower is not up to where he wants to be, he had a nice weekend of fishing, eating, and sleeping and reality hit as he prepared to return.

It's OK. He can be frustrated and impatient BUT he has to finish, because he will never forgive himself...ever....if he walks away as he closes in on his goal.....never.....

Got to work.


Peace!

Sports hernia or not?

Howdy. It's the day before Easter and we have had an Easter miracle. Yes, miracle number one was Jesus rising from the dead. Miracle number two is that the big kid has an appointment with the Michael Jordan of hernia repairs on Monday. That's right. Begging works.....really. Try it some time.



With that said, the kid came home last night and I enjoyed the banter with him and his dad as they watched SEC baseball together on ESPN. From the pitcher on the mound whom the kid threw against last summer to the team gossip, they had a nice time just chatting about baseball.



I found out a few things.....first, the Czar continues to put guys on the mound whose ERA are greater than 6. Are we saying "let's tank this year for the first round draft pick?" Naw, that's professional sports. Think about it......


Fade to black.....

You are a blue chip prospect who can attend college anywhere in the US, will you choose a program that has a pitching staff with an ERA higher than the number of wins? Uh, no.

You are a blue chip prospect who can attend college anywhere in the US, will you come to a program whose number of errors are higher than the number of runs scored all year? Uh no.

You are a blue chip prospect who can attend college anywhere in the US, will you choose a program that has a starting player whose batting average is less than .100? Uh no.

And so, this year is looking dismal as is next year and the year after.....

On to the MRI report.....I know, based upon history of working with this hospital that the radiologist did not completely read it. I am looking forward to Monday's appointment which will last four hours to hear what MJ has to say. Once again, if the report is wrong, I will not look under the sofa cushions for extra change and set up a lemonade stand out front of the house, but submit the bill to the coaches and trainers.


The question that I consider almost every day is whether I would do it again. By that, I mean, would I send the kid to this program for his college baseball? Based upon what was promised and how the training was presented, the answer is hmmmm. Yet, the reality is that the promises were not forthcoming. The training in one of the best universities in the country was sub par as was the medical care. BUT, he received an amazing education, which at the end of the day is what he needed most of all. So, the answer to the question is 'yes.' However, if I had a crystal ball that would have shown me that troubles and angst of what was to come, I think that another program would have better suited his needs. Hind sight....20-20 vision.....

With that said, it is good to have everyone under the same roof through the holiday, but I would rather be in Ohio watching my boy throw the ball at 90 mph.

One last word.....the team that the guys played in Texas early in the season is now ranked number one. I believe it. I have watched lots of baseball, but this team was extraordinary as were the fans. One fan held a fishing line with scissors over the dug out. The 'dig' was that the scissors were to cut the players' hair.


 The guys on our team have a propensity to grow their hair long. It's a statement....or ten...who knows.

Time to hit the gym....

Peace!~

Friday night mental toughness

Hi! I am down to the last two papers and cannot get motivated to grade them. I know...then I will be completely done...I know...what the heck? Can't get moving....Actually, I scheduled a massage today with the gift card that I got two years ago. I forgot about it then waited to treat myself after this last crazy six months....but I can't go until I finish the papers. Otherwise, it would not be a treat. Right? I am  such a head case. When I made the appointment, I was offered a masseuse named Darren. Darren? That's a guy, right? Where's Ingrid, a tall, muscular Swedish woman?

Darren sounded like he was a puppy. I do not want to be given a massage by someone who is my son's age. That would be the ultimate ikk factor. Ew. Right?

And so, I selected Tiffany. Yep. Tiffany. She is probably in her early 20's and she is going to have her hands full with my wiggly muscles.....OK, once a upon a time, I was cut, lean, and muscular. At this writing, I am a shade bit doughy. This should be relaxing....uh huh.....

The last time that I had a massage (about 6 years ago), I started to cough. I was breathing so deep that my lungs went into spasm since they are not accustomed to receiving oxygen at the bases. Normally, I breathe quickly and only fill half of the capacity. Anyway, I want to shower before I go....and grade those last two papers, so I have to be brief.....

I spoke with the big lefty today who gave me the run down for the day...class....break...class....bullpen....60 pitches....quick dinner...7:30 pm mental session.

What?

Yep, 7:30 on a Friday evening while in college, the entire team and staff have to sit for two hours listening to the Czar pontificate about the importance of keeping your focus and being mentally tough...while deep breathing, of course. Sheesh.....Two hours.....

Yesterday, while the kid was pitching, the pitching coach had the team stand around him to yell in his ears and scream as he threw. The point of the exercise was to throw him off and distract him. Guess what? He was not distracted and kept a razor-like focus and hit his marks. Impressive.....

Perhaps, this ability to concentrate can be attributed to these mental sessions. Then again, maybe not...after all, this pitcher is one dedicated guy and will stop at nothing to achieve his goals. So, a little chaos is not exactly a problem for him. After living in the dorms and house of mold, he has the ability to turn things on and off. How do I know? Well, he can certainly turn my voice off with a wink of his eye....did you get the car inspected? Did you pay your rent? Is there fresh oil in the car...don't drink and drive...study...go to church....
He probably hears "blah, blah, blah, blah, coming out of my mouth."


 Oh well, it's his loss. I told him my pin number to my debit card that he doesn't remember hearing...
Gotta go and finish....

Peace!~