The Unfocused Life

Unfocused Junior and Unfocused Girl, ready for anything.

Finally, I note that I have not yet begun a petition drive to make slides illegal in the City of Chicago. Based on the recent track record of the City Council (thanks for the sparkler ban, by the way!), I’d probably have a better than even chance of getting an ordinance passed if I really worked at it. As it is, though, I don’t expect to change anything about the slide in our own backyard, where the Unfortunate Incident occurred. I told Unfocused Girl today that I’d appreciate it if she’d refrain from climbing up the slide for a day or two, until I get my equilibrium back, and I’ll point out to Junior (once his cast is off and he can climb up onto the playset again) that he should go down the slide on his bottom, not on foot, but other than that I don’t know what else there is to do. I could enclose it in a big plastic tube, I suppose, but that would get really unpleasant on summer days.

* This photograph is copyright 2008, all rights reserved. The remainder of the post is subject to the usual Creative Commons license (see the sidebar for details), but I don’t release the rights to pictures of my kids.

Junior has been pushing his physical limits lately, testing to see what his body can do. He’s four and a half, and since spring finally hit Chicago he’s been accumulating new bruises far faster than the old ones can heal. When he gets undressed, he appears from his thighs to his ankles to be more bruise than boy. Unfocused Girl went through this a couple of times, and Junior went through a similar phase the summer after he turned two, but since he’s bigger and older now he can do more interesting things and do even more damage.

Example: a week or two ago, while Unfocused Girl was at a class at the Y, the Mrs. took Junior to the playground. When she told him it was time to go pick up UG, he begged to be pushed on the swings before they left. The Mrs. relented, and agreed to push him four times on the swing. He climbed onto the swing — the big kid swing, not the baby swing — and with each push, they counted together: “One!” “Two!” “Three!”

On “Four!” he waited until he got to the highest point of the arc and let go, spreading his arms wide. If you had seen him at that moment, Mrs. Unfocused said, you’d think the kid could fly. Until he belly-flopped onto the rubber tile.

He was lucky, and got up laughing.

We hosted an Independence Day barbecue yesterday, not huge, just family. At one point, Junior was lying on his belly on one of the swings on our backyard playset, when he tipped over and landed on his face. He didn’t have anything worse than a scraped nose, but it shook him up and he cried for a while before we could get him calmed down.

He cried less than that an hour later when he broke his arm.

He was on the playset, at the top of the slide. He was Spider-Man, and he said that I should be the Joker, and come up the slide, so I did. He pushed me down, and I slid down the slide. As I reached the bottom, he started down the slide after me — on foot, not on his bottom.

If that sounds unstable, well, duh. Still, even though I was standing a few feet away and saw it happen, I don’t have any idea how or why he went over the side, but he did. He landed on his front, then rolled over and started yelling; it took me less than a second to start yelling too, because his right arm was bent at a 60-degree angle about two inches up from his wrist. We put a dishtowel over his arm because the sight of his arm bent that way really bothered him, and it bothered me, too.

I’ll spare you the details from the rest of the evening, except to say that (1) he stopped crying before we got to the car, and did not cry again for the rest of the night except when the nurse stuck the IV into his left hand to give him morphine, a drug I associate with addicts in Agatha Christie novels, not pediatric medicine, and (2) Children’s Memorial Hospital is, as you might imagine, the place to go with a child injured for any reason, but certainly it’s the place to bring a child with a broken bone on a major national holiday. We checked in at 6:50pm, and walked out at 10:30, with Junior — awake and yammering away, just like normal — wearing a plaster cast from his elbow to his thumb.

Today was a little rough. Junior watched a lot of TV, and had good moments and bad. One of the bad moments came around four o’clock, when he told us that his arm was straight and didn’t hurt anymore, so it was time to take the cast off, and we had to explain what “4 to 6 weeks” means. He cried then, and asked about our trip to the beach later in the summer; we told him we didn’t know, but we thought there was a cover we could put over his cast to let him go to the beach.

There were good parts, though. After some coaxing, he agreed to walk around the corner to Starbucks at around 5:30, but only if I carried him down the stairs from our front porch (a compromise from his original negotiating position that I should carry him all the way to Starbucks and back), and he really enjoyed the distraction. We spent an hour or so outside after that, chatting with neighbors and using up the noisemakers and poppers we didn’t get to use last night.

Now he’s finally asleep, and I’m falling asleep at the computer. The Mrs. says I was more restless last night than I’ve ever been. I’ll post some more about it, and an update, tomorrow.

Weather: Sunny and not godawful hot. I was out the door by 8:15, which helped too, but really it was a perfect day for a run.

Miles run: 10.30, in 1:23:28. I ran the same route I’ve been running, so don’t ask me why it’s suddenly half a mile longer. I think this is closer to reality, though; I think the pedometer was having some trouble the last few long runs. This was the best long run I’ve had in months. I’ve been eating better (read less) and training more. I’ve added speed work back into my training, which makes an enormous difference. For the first time this season, I finished my long run feeling like I could keep going for miles, and I ran the second half considerably fast than the first half (7:45 min/mi vs. 8:28 min/mi).

What I listened to during my run: Episode #140 (Running Barefoot) of Phedippidations, followed by Sledgehammer by Peter Gabriel for the final push.

Words of Meet the Larssons written: The day isn’t over yet. I wrote about 400 words on Thursday, and approximately 300 words on Friday; I didn’t get a chance to update my word count meter yesterday, and I can’t do it now because I’m writing on my office Windows laptop (Lenovo Thinkpad X61s), not my MacBook, because I’m on the road again (I’m at O’Hare waiting for a delayed flight at this very moment — thanks, American!). I don’t have Scrivener, including its handy word counting tools, but I have MTL exported to a RTF file on my memory stick, and I’m planning to work on it on the plane. It felt good to get back into it on Thursday and Friday, though, and while I’m still a little rusty, I’m getting back into it.

The kids are getting a little sick of my travel, especially Unfocused Girl. It didn’t help that I didn’t find out about this trip until around 10pm on Friday night, so I had to spend all of Saturday afternoon at the office dealing with things I thought I’d be doing on Monday. Looking back at my calendar, I’ve been out of town 10 days out of the last 30, and working most of the rest; my usual travel schedule would be more like 2-4 days in a month. No wonder she’s unhappy.

Mrs. Unfocused, UG, and I spent this afternoon working on her Tae Kwon Do skills in the basement (it was raining by the time we finished lunch), while Junior played on the computer. UG wants to earn her yellow belt at the end of the summer — we’d all like to test, really — but she needs a lot of work. I think she’ll get there, but it isn’t easy for her; she isn’t used to exerting as much control over her body as she’ll need to master the moves she’ll be tested on, and it’s hard for her to focus her attention the way she needs to, and she gets frustrated when we point out where she’s going wrong. This is one of the first things she’s really wanted that hasn’t been easy for her — she was not this motivated to learn to ride her bike, for example — and it’s going to be hard for her to stick to it. But she knows she won’t be allowed to take the weapons class until she gets promoted, and she really wants to take the weapons class. She’s also taking fencing and archery for a week each at summer school this month.

My little girl is growing up, and someday she just might kick your ass.

I ran a nice little four-mile race last Saturday at the beach - under 300 finishers, which is a big change from just about any race in or near Chicago. I came in sixth for my age group, at what was for me a respectable but not great pace.

The guy who came in third, though, was only 43 seconds faster than me — less than 11 seconds per mile.

I’m registered for two more races in the same series in August, and I am virtually certain I can knock 11 seconds per mile off my pace by August. I want an age-group medal, damn it, even if it’s for third place.

Except for one year warming the bench on my seventh grade soccer team, I never participated in organized sports as a kid, so I admit to some unfulfilled trophy lust. I have some hope of improving my chances for age group medals as I get older; I didn’t start running until my mid-twenties, so my knees should stay functional longer than some of these fast guys who’ve been running since their days on the high school track team.

That’s probably just a fantasy, though. I spent several years running — including training for and completing three Chicago Marathons — while 50 pounds heavier than I am now, which may have caused a little extra wear and tear on the joints. My knees certainly don’t feel particularly fresh, that’s for sure.

On another topic, I did not, in fact, get any writing done while traveling last week. The work part of the trip sucked up most of my time, leaving me essentially the weekend to spend time on the beach with the Mrs. and kids and visit with our friends. Tuesday and Wednesday were simply crazy at work — Wednesday featured an especially delightful 350-mile round trip drive to a 30-minute hearing. But today I grabbed my MacBook as I ran out the door and wrote about 400 words on the train to and from work. More this weekend, for sure.

It’s time to admit that I will not be finished with the first draft by June 30. I need to think hard about what a realistic revised deadline would be. An easy choice would be October 31, so that I’m finished in time to start something new for NaNoWriMo, but I think that gives me too much time. I’m inclined to try to finish it by the end of Labor Day weekend, which would give me the whole summer (including some real vacation time in August). At my original pace of 5,000 words per week, that would take me to 125,000-130,000 words total, which is probably where Meet the Larssons is headed (for the first draft, anyway), although I haven’t kept that pace for the last couple of months. I’ll give it a week to see how I’m doing before I set another firm (or firm-ish) deadline, but I have to get my pace up or MTL will end up gathering dust unfinished.

Every so often, I’m unable to run a race I’ve registered (and paid) for. I have a thing about not wearing gear from these races — I feel like the t-shirts are for those who do the work, not just pay the fee. I used to think of it as earning the right to wear the shirt by finishing the race, until I spent $125 on a jacket at the 2006 Chicago Marathon Expo and then was unable to finish. I feel a little weird about it, but I wear the jacket; I did the work, I just couldn’t get to the finish line.

This year’s Soldier Field 10-Miler wasn’t a hard issue, though; I registered, I didn’t make it to the starting line, and I never picked up the t-shirt. No fuss, no muss, no bother, right?

Got home last night from a long trip, part work, part family time, and picked up the mail this evening from the wonderful neighbors who collected it while we were gone. Guess what I found when I went through it:

An envelope, mailed from the company that put on the race, containing the technical shirt from the Soldier Field 10-Miler.

My best guess is that they ran out of shirts and mailed them to everyone who didn’t get one — including those of us who didn’t pick one up.

So now I’ve got this decent technical shirt, utterly unsuitable for using as a rag or other ordinary t-shirt use, that I feel morally unable to wear.

Any suggestions?

The slumber party itself was a learning experience, but it went so smoothly that I think what we learned is that we’d rather have a handful of kids over for 16 hours than a houseful of kids for 2 hours.

Liveblogging it was a learning experience of a different kind. For example, I already knew that the unreliable internet service we get from Comcast makes me crazy, but I hadn’t really considered how much time it causes me to waste until the fourth time I rebooted the cable modem while writing Part 3.

Another lesson learned is that it is better to decide to liveblog something in advance, so you can be sure you know what you’re doing, instead of making a snap decision based on an offhand suggestion. The whole thing started when, as we were cleaning up from dinner, Mrs. Unfocused said, “Hey, you should liveblog this.” It wasn’t really a problem until — again — Part 3, when I realized that I had no idea how to insert pictures into my post using the new WordPress.com interface. The old system was very easy & intuitive; the new one is, to put it mildly, a ginormous pain in the ass. It would have helped to try it out beforehand.

Another lesson: As far as I’m concerned, Unfocused Girl should have all of her birthday parties in June. The problem with February parties is that the kids for some reason refuse to play outside when it’s below zero.

We all spent today exhausted and occasionally cranky, but it was worth it. I had a very nice, if low-key, Father’s Day and received the perfect gift: The Simpsons Movie. I welcome any excuse to let my inner Homer come out to play, so I’m looking forward to watching it soon.

Spring Sunday Stats:

Weather: Thunderstorm in the morning, hot and sunny by 11:45 when I went out for the run. I tried a new sunscreen today, Bullfrog Quik Gel, but still got burned on my face and neck, so that’s out. I used Bullfrog’s spray on my arms instead of the Quik Gel, and that worked better, so I may hang onto that until it runs out.

Miles run: 9.67, in 1:32:33. Let’s face it: I was tired, and it was hot, with the sun right overhead. My butt was kicked before I got to the end of the block. I ran the first half in 43:37, and the second half in 48:56. I didn’t have high expectations, having skipped my long run last week and generally neglected my training all spring. I got out Thursday morning for an early run, though, then I did treadmill intervals at the gym on Friday, so I’m hoping not to completely embarrass myself this coming Saturday at the Classic Catering 4 Miler, one of the Seven Sisters and Four Brothers races in Dewey Beach, Delaware. In addition to the 4 Miler, I registered for the JD Shuckers 5K and the Highway One Group 10K, August 10 and 16, respectively.

I’m also registered for the Third Annual Phedippidations World Wide Half Marathon, which will be held around the world on October 11-12, 2008. I ran the first one in 2006, but had to miss the 2007 race. I may not get to run any “official” half marathon this year, so the Phedip WWHM is even more important. Steve Runner of Phedippidations and the race directors do a great job organizing the race, down to the race bibs and virtual goody bags. They added a 5K last year, and this year they’ve added a 10K, so if you’re looking for a flexible, DIY race that lets you compete with fellow runners all over the world, you should take a look.

Words written of Meet the Larssons: That, unsurprisingly, would be none. Yesterday was a complete washout, of course, and today I spent a fair amount of time on client work. I didn’t expect to accomplish anything on the novel this weekend, and at least I didn’t disappoint myself. I’ll get something done on it tomorrow, though, and then maybe more on the plane on Tuesday.

Long night. I checked on the girls at 12:45am — Unfocused Girl was still awake and smiling, though all of the others were asleep (one was snoring at a considerable volume). We talked for a minute; I think she was still wound up from the excitement of the evening.

I’d forgotten how disruptive it is to have Junior sleeping in our room. He laughed in his sleep a few times, and Mrs. Unfocused saw him punching the air. I wonder which superhero he was dreaming about. He fell out of bed twice. The first time, Mrs. Unfocused got him back in and checked on the girls; the second time, at 5:15, I got him settled and checked on the girls myself: Unfocused Girl and one other were awake.

The girls woke up before 7. In the spirit of Father’s Day, Mrs. Unfocused tried to let me sleep in, but accidentally set off the alarm. I got dressed for a run, but got held up trying to help Unfocused Girl register the Webkinz pet one of her friends gave her; it took me 20 minutes to figure out that the Webkinz registration site was blocked by the parental controls on the iMac. By the time I fixed that, it was pouring rain. I may not be all that bright, but I know enough not to run in a thunderstorm, and the lightning strikes were not far away at all.

Webkinz is having trouble with its own servers this morning, so UG couldn’t register Simi (Siamie? it’s pronounced Sy-mee) the cat anyway.

Big breakfast of scrambled eggs (not for Junior, but he slept until 9:30 anyway) and pancakes. The Mrs. made two kinds of pancakes: one small batch with gluten-free flour (with eggs) for the girl with the gluten allergy, and one large batch with regular flour but no eggs for everyone else. I tried one of the gluten-free pancakes; it turns out that the missing gluten makes more of a difference than the missing eggs do, but it was still pretty good.

The girls have packed up, and are in the basement watching Scooby Doo (the original series) waiting to get picked up. We gave out copies of the first Warriors book as party favors so that UG will have some friends to talk to about the series.

I think she had a really good time. Tonight, I’ll blog the aftermath.

Does anyone else remember Letterman’s parody of that song from Cats? No? It was about 20 years ago? No?

It doesn’t matter, because the Kitties are not, in fact, sleeping. I just left the room where they’re all camped, having read them the Exciting Prologue (”No!” said one. “Don’t read the prologue! I hate prologues!”) to Warriors Book 1, Into the Wild. I walked out of the room and closed the door, and immediately heard cats screetching and jumping all over. Not my problem, as long as the door stays closed and no one starts crying to go home.

I can’t believe all the stuff Mrs. Unfocused pulled together for this thing. She’s always in charge of birthday parties, but usually I’m a little more aware of her preparations. Maybe it’s that it gets easier as the kids get older.

This will probably be my last update tonight, unless something really unexpected happens tonight. Tomorrow: the morning after.

We just got Junior to bed (11:30pm) on the inflatable in our room, since the girls are taking over the room he shares with Unfocused Girl, which reminded me that I left something out of the last post. Just before we started the movie, Junior ran upstairs to get into pajamas (the girls had changed earlier). Apparently, he decided it would be more efficient to change in the basement; the next thing we knew, he was stark naked on the landing of the basement staircase, putting on a little show for all of the girls. I only understand one of the shouted comments — “Look out! Boy cooties!” — but the hubub died down pretty quickly. One of the girls has a little brother of her own and the other two, who are sisters, have known Junior for years.

Oops. Movie’s over. Gotta run.

Oh no! Our backyard has been invaded by nocturnal, pajama-wearing warrior cats!

Hooray! Superman is here to save us!

And now we will have cake! Cake to honor Firestar, the new leader of Thunderclan! (and Unfocused Girl, too!)

Yes, Mrs. Unfocused made that cake herself. No, she doesn’t have a cat mold — it’s essentially hand-carved. Yes, she’s incredibly talented. Yes, all of the kids’ birthday cakes look like this (well, not like this — I should post a picture of the Batman birthday cake she made for Junior in January). The only part not made from scratch is the cake itself, which came from a box mix from Cherrybrook Kitchen, purveyors of fine egg-free, nut-free cake mixes so good, Mrs. Unfocused, Unfocused Girl, and I feel cheated when we have an ordinary cake (not as cheated as Junior feels, since he doesn’t get to have the ordinary cake, but still).

There was also a pinata. The girl who couldn’t stay left at about 9:45, and since 10 the remaining members of the pack — and Junior — have been watching The Cat From Outer Space, a Disney classic from way back in 1977. Ah, blessed movie.

So, any bets on who will be the first to drop?