The Beltline Trail was hard on me today when BabyBear and I traced its entire length. The cool, crisp morning promised by the weather man must have disappeared before I got my act together. In fairness, it takes me a while to get out the door, what with baby feed/diaper/dress details and the effort required to hoist the girls into the most powerful sports bra in all creation. (It takes 8 hooks and a massive zipper to keep things under control. But this is what we women do to be givers of life and all.)
By the time I got the baby jogger humming, it was nothing short of damn hot. I considered the heat a means to intensify my training. (Yes, you heard it here first. I'm training for a half marathon that has the nerve of taking place in less than 4 short weeks. Ugh.) On the whole, I am proud of completing my longest post-baby run without toppling over. Let's not talk about how long it took me to cover the 6 miles.
When not receiving the tough love, I've been doling it out on BB's sleep schedule (or lack thereof). I'm not a cry-it-outer, but I'm also not going to breastfeed my daughter to sleep into her teen years. So we are trying more gentle approaches to generate falling-to-sleep habits that don't involve the snack-and-snooze pattern developed to date.
And now I'm officially a hypocrite. In the midst of writing this post, I just could not take another second of BB's "I'm too tired to nap" whimpering. So I moved her into what is starting to become the "family bed" (yeesh, I never thought I'd end up here) and fed her to sleep.
I guess it's fair to say that I'm just a receiver of tough love now. I'll let you know when I have sufficient strength to dish it out too.
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