Run Forrest Run!

I went running at 7.30am today and I need to show off about it.

*Pauses and waits for 90% of the readership to leave the post*

Seven-fucking-thirty.  Amazing.  I don't normally even surface until 7.35 on a school day. Stu was asleep, Sebi was fast asleep, only Zak was awake to applaud me in my efforts and he only managed a swivelled eyeball away from the Ipad to shoot me a confused look before returning to shoot something in Angry Birds Star Wars.

I didn't even have breakfast.  A banana and a pint of water and I was off.  For the first 0.2 of a km I was full of it.  Look at me.  Really.  Look at me.  Running the streets of St. Albans whilst the masses still had their curtains closed.  Then at 0.3 of a km I got hungry. Really hungry.  Eaten-a-big-fat-plate-of-pasta-last-night-and-stretched-my-stomach-muscles-and-then-decided-to-go-running-without-brekkie kind of hungry.  Arse.  I'm stubborn though and I carried on the route I had planned trying to remember who it was that told me I would burn serious calories for the rest of the day with this early morning burst of fitness.

I realised I had become a member of a club I had never asked to join.  You tend to exchange a smile with opposite-direction runners whenever you are running.  From them, I think, it is normally an encouraging smile or a smile of camaraderie.  From me, it is always, always, me laughing at the pair of us for putting ourselves something so horrific for the sake of beauty.  The 7.30am jogging club has a different kind of smile from both sides: we are all seriously fucking smug.  I can be smug while it lasts, I can't imagine it happening again this decade if I'm honest.  I normally run after school drop off but the tropics of St. Albans are ensuring that even 8.45am at the moment makes me an unusually sweaty Betty.

All this showing off and how far did I run I hear you ask?  1.75 miles.  I reckon there must be some kind of Bermuda Triangle hiding somewhere up Jersey Lane.  I felt like I ran for miles and was out for ages but no; 18 sodding minutes and 1.75 miles.  Arse, arse.

As I drove past McDonalds at 10.30am I toyed with the idea of a Large Quarter Pounder with Cheese Meal.  After all, (a) it must definitely be lunchtime as I had been up for so long, and (b) a 1.75 mile run first thing must surely cover those calories and then allow me lunch as well?  Luckily, as it was so bloody hot, I couldn't face the Maccy D smell today otherwise my healthy day could've drifted into minus points quite early on.  As it is, I've rewarded myself with a couple of wines in the pub with my Daddy and a couple more with my hubby.  I would imagine that the other early-rising joggers are already tucked up in bed with a carrot juice ready for tomorrow's outing.  Good luck to them.

A Couple of Pairs

My family is split neatly in two.  From the moment Zak was born, he looked like Stu, walked like Stu, laughed like Stu and comedy danced like Stu.  They have a shared sense of humour that only the two of them get, (and I'm afraid to say that I judge it nearer a six-year old's than a 38 year old's but that could just be me not 'getting it').

All very sweet and very lovely and it would be fine because I would receive my mini-me girl second-time around.  Oh no.  Mini-me he is but he is no girl.  Don't worry, I won't crap on about the lack of women in my house (as I have spent quite enough time on that before).

Stu and Zak are a pair of pliable, funny, friendly, happy-eaters, kind, crowd-pleasers, sociable, early-risers.

Seb and I are a couple of stubborn, friend-picky, late-risers, hilarious, pig-headed, musical, loving, sleepy, awkward, mother-fuckers.

It's interesting because of the way you end up parenting your two children.  Many of my best friends will argue with this, but, I don't have a favourite.  I absolutely love Zak and Sebi equally but in totally different ways.  I am constantly amazed by Zak and his compassion and intelligence but I fail at reaching out to him when it come to what interests him.  I have to summon up every ounce of concentration to listen at breakfast to yet another oh-so-fascinating analysis of the latest workings of the most recent game on the IPad.  I really, really don't care, but I have to, otherwise we won't connect, ever!  I frustrate Zak already with my incessant demands for kisses and cuddles AT BEDTIME. Seriously.  He is only just six.  Surely that is acceptable?  I won't be trying my luck at 16, or even 10, but at 6 I think I deserve a shot.

I find Sebi completely manageable, but to Stu he is a bit of an enigma, (as I imagine, am I).  They have a good and fun relationship but Stu doesn't understand the way Seb works at all, and he will be the first to admit that.  In the same way I have to work to find common ground with Zak, I can understand precisely what is going through Seb's head 95% of the time.  It's really quite odd.  

I had a lovely weekend a couple of weeks ago with my Uni friends when Stu took the boys up to Redditch.  They went out of a meal for Sunday lunch and Seb ordered his dinner, yet when it arrived, he threw a blue fit and refused to eat it.  Stu then ordered him a different dinner.  I pass no judgement on this, (on here anyway), as, as I have said, I was having a lovely drunken time on my own.  However, I can just imagine the bloody glint in Sebastian's eye as he achieved what he never would have done had Mummy been around.

My Dad has a lot of fellow-feeling with Sebi being a second-boy-child in quite a short space of time too.  Seb hardly owns any clothes that aren't hand-me-downs and my Dad was appalled to hear that I put him in Zak's second-hand pants.  Not quite as appalled as when I suggested that he had probably spent the best part of his childhood in Uncle Ted' pants...

Luckily, considering they are so different, Zak and Sebi have a wonderful sibling-relationship.  Thank the Lord that Zak is the elder brother however, as I think that him having the controlling power through age is what makes is work so well.  Seb worships the ground he walks on and is subservient to Zak and Zak only.  Stu holds the age card on me but somehow it doesn't quite work in the same way. ;-)