To all the parents out there...from a non-parent.

Dear world.

I do not have kids. (Written with a sigh of relief unbeknownst to any reader...)  But, children are just adorable mini people that haven't quite learned to cook yet, so they need some moral support and guidance until they've figured out how to not burn themselves when using the stove. Oh, and to poop.

I was privileged (is that an appropriate use of that word...) to provide that guidance to my super spunky 4 year old niece, Evelyn, and 18 month old nephew, Liam, over the weekend. I know many concerned people out there who were anxious for the future of these children besides their parents; so, to put their fears to rest, I shall share my savvy, sophisticated, and skillful parenting wisdom...because I have now advanced in parenting proficiency.

Getting ready to survive the weekend together!

First, I had to convince my sister and her husband to trust me. That was a feat and a half.  Mostly from previous history with their kids...yes, I adore them; BUT, back before I achieved elite parenting status, there were struggles.

My sister initially sent subtle hints that they might come visit. I offered to babysit, because I know parents never actually have any fun...unless you count watching frozen 3 times a week - living the life. And then things turned wild. It was their anniversary weekend and we did the math and realized they hadn't had a vacation since before their children were born. That's 5 years. Parent's know a little bit about sacrifice. As is also typical for most parents, they were forgetting how to relax and more importantly what fun is...well, now that I think of it, play-dough mustaches are highly entertaining...so retract at least the latter half of that statement.

Although they toyed with the idea of taking their kids, how many of you have had to travel with an 18-month-old who never sits still and thinks that seat belts are a sign that his parents don't love him? (NOT TRUE. It's just a matter of perspective and legal issues - good job, 1990s.) Yeah, sanity would diminish after a trip with him for sure.

Don't let these cute faces kid you...don't let these cute kids face you...

At first, they called off the trip all together thinking that Liam, who doesn't sleep well, would be too difficult for me to handle. (Nah...who needs sleep?) I put my foot down. And told them to "do something exotic." and encouraged them to let their kids drive me crazy for a weekend, since they are driven crazy 300 other days of the year.

We cuddled!! And mostly rolled all over eachother...but, we slept!

But, the father was a little harder to convince, referencing again past encounters with my pre-expert parenting self when my 2-week-old niece cried for lit-er-ally hours while I babysat her eventually sending me also to tears and a vow to never have kids. (admittedly...babies aren't easy. How many new parents confess they are done having children. But, once you survive the first few months, they grow on you again. And I swear - I'm fine. I can totally comfort any poor teething child within minutes...just please don't test me.)

I offered one last testimonial:
"I understand that kids are hard...and I know I have said about a dozen times (if not more) that I don't want kids...BUT, this will be good practice! I still love your kids...and I still want to make life easier for you." I urged them to take a break from their reality. AND then I pulled out the defense card and reminded them that even they get frustrated with their own kids and some days of being a parent. So, if getting frustrated with your children is unavoidable...why should they try to shield me from it. And for my closing argument:

"Life is hard anyway, if anything it will be an experience your kids and I will always remember...and can bond over the fact that we tried to have fun without you...and so what if we fail. At least we all gain a greater appreciation for you."

I'm pretty persuasive. AND, in the end, I won (or did I...no, we totally had a great time...and by great...I mean...no one died...and we all really appreciate the parents).

First...I had to make sure I had food. Most parents want their children to eat normal, healthy meals. SO, popcorn was out of the picture...Thankfully, Evelyn, my 4-year-old niece, provided me with a grocery list (Although, she should have been okay with my initial strategy of ice cream and chocolate...)  and said we could only eat ice cream after dinner. Whatever. kids these days. So, I pulled out the heavy pots and pans.

Breakfast fit for champions! 

The first guide to parenting: How to entertain your kids while cooking dinner:

GARLIC.  That's it!  Liam spent at least 30 minutes throwing cloves of garlic around everywhere...and jumping on it...and pounding it into the floor.  That is when I could get him from opening the garbage can and licking the bag...KIDS ARE SO GROSS. But...what doesn't kill you makes you stronger...Liam is probably the next Superman.

It's better if you just adopt the philosophy: the less you know - the easier it is to sleep at night. 

Although I tried to distract him from his wild ways...who knows how many other wickedly disgusting things he did hiding around the corner. (I can't be in 2 places at once...and i was still cooking dinner...is this why mac and cheese is so popular for parents?) Just to warn you, he almost actually does escape this adventure unharmed...

So, thanks to the garlic, dinners were made to please any parent...but, just not actually eaten. BONUS of having kids: You never have to cook yourself dinner....kids won't eat any of theirs, so help yourself to their plate instead!

OH, and of course, their favorite part is the cleanup! I mean, of course, we had no problems as I tried to quickly wash the dishes and wipe down the counters only to discover that little Liam's idea of cleaning was spitting out carrots all over the floor...piece by piece...until he finally had my attention as I saw the trail of orange pieces that followed him into the dining room. I think it was just a friendly reminder to sweep the floor as well.

 Second guide to parenting: Remodel your house in less than 30 minutes!!

It's exciting to go downstairs and into my bedroom to see that every drawer and shelf have been rearranged and reorganized while every jewelry box has been emptied. Dress-up is a perfect time to resort through my collection of shoes. Seriously, who knew kids could be so organized?

Admiring the sculptures!

The third guide to parenting: Radios exist to remind you that the world is perfect.

Maybe the kids are upset in the back of the car because they have to share a water bottle; or because they can't listen to their favorite song again, after the 4th time; or because I told them they can't have another package of fruit snacks until after dinner though they still haven't even finished the 2nd one in their hands. BUT, whenever any car tantrum begins...just turn up the radio and open the windows and have a little mini dance party...maybe they'll stop crying when the song is over...if not, maybe it's a hot hit - 10-song-in-a-row-super-playlist! Then just jam until they forgot why they were crying in the first place.

There's a whole lot of love!

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Fourth guide to parenting: Parents actually drive kids crazy.

They’ll be perfectly fine all day…until the parents call…and then they’ll have an emotional break down to make you think they are miserable and their future lives have been ruined by this sudden betrayal and abandonment.  I have come to accept, and believe, that parents aren't really necessary.

But, having had a perfect weekend...carrying kids who didn't want to walk uphill, (we're not in Kansas anymore), and never losing shoes, or sippy cups, or toy cars...why did you drop it if you were going to cry as soon as it went out of view?  ...And definitely sleeping...some, we sat at the pier watching and waiting for mommy and daddy's plane to land. It was a perfect Sunday, the weather was beautiful and people were setting sail on sailboats all around us as we watched the planes come down over the Potomac!

this is literally Mommy and Daddy's plane!!

And after we saw the parental plane land, we decided we couldn't live another day without them and went off to reconnect. That's when tragedy happened...driving (that was me...Evelyn had a hard time reaching the pedals...) is hard when you are distracted by 2 toddlers in the back, so I went through the departure line and rather than drive around the airport, I asked mommy and daddy to meet us there and pulled out the kids to wait a few minutes. Of course they start touching everything and annoying Jet Blue ticketing/baggage agents and stepping in the way of impatient passengers. So, I was happy when they decided to climb back in the car. But, Liam apparently wanted to be in by himself and pushed Evelyn out. I turned around for THIRTY SECONDS to follow Evelyn and in the meantime, Liam decided he still wants to do everything she does...so he pushed himself out...but he still hasn't figured out gravity...so, he face plants the ground.

Thirty seconds later, parents emerge from a weekend getaway to a screaming, bleeding baby.

Sabotage!


I could have lived down the morning when Liam ripped off his diaper only for me to catch him just as he began to pee on the floor...and I spoiled Evelyn with a manicure, so she would have given me rave reviews...but, now all evidence suggests otherwise.

I'm just thankful that mommy was able to console this poor wounded soul.

Parents, bless you for all you do. Your children are fun...but, there aren't words to describe how exhausting it can be.  Thank you for your sacrifices to teach and love these charming little humans. We need a national holiday just for parents. (not separate...but in addition to what we do have honoring moms and dads...)

The responsibility you bear I'm sure is daunting, so thanks for taking it on! GOOD LUCK!!! You need it.  And a vacation.

at the zoo!! (This is where Eva stopped walking...)

Anyways, when you see this hunk of a man...know that he is indeed adored and loved...not abused.

Don't worry...It just looks like he's stuck...

Families, when done right, are a blessing! Sandra and Will, thanks for being an amazing example of righteous parents! 

The world is full of crazy people - yes I am one of them - but there are others.

The majority of my writing is done while I run.  Most likely because running is a time of reflection and enables me to organize my thoughts.  But, sometimes...it's because people are idiots.

There are only two reasons why a person would honk at a runner:

1.  Because runners are sexy.

we all know he's a runner...

2.  Because said honker is a disgrace to humanity and wants to annoy, irritate, scare, and aggravate said runner.  

Let's just get this clear.  There is no good time to honk at a runner.  (Unless they are running out in front of you and you are breaking the speed limit and have no control over your car and therefore because of YOUR idiocy you have to warn them about said idiocy and caution them to avoid aforementioned idiocy.)

Okay, so you want to appreciate a runner's sexiness. Fine. Do it. Drive by, and soak it all in. I do. There are many fine runners (and I don't just mean that they have good form...although they most likely do...really good form.) Basically, when you honk your horn. I'm more likely going to think you are honking for reason number 2. 

This is me running...pretty much every day. Man, SEXY!

Let me explain potentially what could happen when you honk for reason number 2 with a personal anecdote:  

I was having a great run.  I was at a comfortable pace and out for a comfortable distance.  I passed 5 miles and had over 1 mile left.  It was already dark (yes world, judge me...but I had big decisions I was making and I NEEDED TO RUN. AND I have a headlamp. (I hope you inserted the "I know what I'm doing" tone in that previous sentence. You can use it in the next one too with a little more sass.) And this time I avoided sketchy parks. And it was actually before midnight. My music stopped, which was great, so I could sort through all the crazy ideas in my head.

And yeah, it was dark...so I KNOW I was looking real sexy. (Headlamps, yo). I recently turned out onto a sidewalk that parallels a busy street and in very deep thought when all of a sudden a car snuck up and tapped their horn. But, NEWSFLASH. Even if you barely tap your horn, it doesn't just barely beep. It blares and blasts a cacophony of sound that startles even the sexiest of runners. I didn't just jump; I, as elegantly as possible with as much swanlike grace, tripped and fell in a chaotic mess of confusion trying  to maintain what composure and hope the previous 5 miles had wrought.

Sure, to the driving idiot who honked the horn, it might not have been that sexy. And maybe he even thought: how could someone so uncoordinated manage to run at all. BUT, his opinion became VOID as soon as he thought it was a good idea to honk. So, yes...Mr. License plate 366 YPO...okay, I didn't actually get your license plate. But, I know it had a 6 in it. Because in the south, 6 is satan. So, I'm really just assuming. ...and I actually don't even know what my license number is...I hope it doesn't have a 6...if it does, I'm changing it. 

Yes, you had your fun. But, what if I start running with eggs in my hand...and next time you honk I can chunk it at your car. Who will be laughing then? Okay, most likely you...again...because I'll probably end up with egg yolk all over me...

Sigh. Sometimes, we are just too sexy for our own good. 

He's still sexy...

Some people just may be innocent enough to honk for reason 1.5: If you are honking because you feel it's going to give me the motivation to run an extra mile, thank you. Please stop.

I decided morning runs are the best...and running before tourists is even better! (Also, why do tourists and terrorists sound so similar?)

Here is a collage of a few morning runs from the week, lemon tarts I eat without shame because I love calories, and I became legit #businesscards

The curse of being a klutz with fast reflexes

SO, Good news! I am a 2-wheeled commuter. 

My awesome roommate in Taiwan shared stories of her adventures biking to work in DC and I always envied her paved trails and easy access. GUESS WHAT. Now the world should be envious of me.  But, not really...I'll explain later.

This is what I imagined...

When I moved to DC and started working, it was the first thing I thought of.  AND I was ecstatic to learn I had access to a gym with a lovely locker room so I could pretend that I don't sweat! 

Regrettably, I don't live in the most convenient part of town.  But call it courage or just crazy, I am persistent and decided I would take the 11 different roads and 4 trails that eventually equal 14 miles to get me to work.  Thank goodness for google maps.  BOO FOR TRAFFIC.  For about half the ride I'm on a legit bike trail, so it's heavenly.  But, the other 7 miles ... It's okay, I rode a bike through Bangkok and Cambodia...they barely have roads...I can handle this.

I was biking when I took this picture...(SEE, I'm somewhat coordinated...)
but, these two girls were holding hands, and it was precious!
I <3 Cambodians!!

However, today I almost died.

Let me angle through my brush with death...actually it was a brush with an idiot...they can kill you.
Today, I was within 100 feet of my destination...which meant I had biked basically 14 miles already - safely, also means I had biked somewhere around 70 miles since Monday with no other threats...not even a dog. (I needed a car on wednesday, so i drove, but 3 days out of 4 is a good start!)

However, after riding 14 miles (remember, I wasn't even sweating) and passing through my last intersection using an actual crosswalk that even had a handy countdown which signalled that I had the right of way for another 36 seconds, I kissed the zebra.  Although I still played it safe, when I saw a nice truck signal that he would wait for his turn, I decided I could trust him and clipped in; crucial detail...I have clipless pedals ...logically, this makes no sense because I actually clip my shoes to the pedals...but, whatever...it's like wondering why we call a pen a pen (which I did until 6th grade...and never got it...)...but...the bigger problem is that once clipped in, my feet are secured to the bike, yay when you are pedaling up hill!!!  nay when you crash. WHICH IS WHAT HAPPENS NEXT.  While I swiftly pedal across the crosswalk, another F450 (WHY DO YOU NEED A TRUCK IN ARLINGTON?  YOU. ARE. NOT. A. COWBOY.) BARRELS through.

Um. CUTE!

Good news, I have tiger like reflexes.  Bad news, I am a super big klutz. Put those together, I managed to stop before getting run over, but I didn't unclip and kind of bounced my way to the pavement. I'm sure it would have been hysterical if it didn't hurt so much.  And I could care less about the bruises and scraped knees.  BUT, I somehow managed to bruise my rib - as only a klutz could - and now laughing and basically breathing are completely out of the question.

Not going to lie...I might have sworn...it's a good thing I'm not Muslim...since Ramadan started last night...and I would have broken it day 1. (Did you know that cursing is forbidden especially during Ramadan!)

So, I've learned that I laugh more than I realized throughout the day. That's good. Except now, I don't really want to laugh.  Isn't that Murphy's Law?

Anyways...I suppose I'll have to keep jumping through hoops until all wannabe cowboys finally realize they should just move to Russia. Russians love cowboys.

Hey, Putin! let's be friends...but, I'm kind of a klutz...