Every working parent of a school-age child has one number they never want to see on their office phone's caller ID: that of their child's school office. Nine times out of ten, it's the school nurse calling (that tenth time when it's not is a WHOLE different blog post!), and then a decision has to be made: is my kid sick enough for me to need to leave work? The choice is obvious if the kid is puking or feverish...but what about those pesky stomachaches and vague "I don't feel good" complaints?
Many books have been written to guide parents through various common childhood illnesses, but in my experience, a few extremely common maladies have been left out of these manuals. My kids don't tend to break bones or even come down with swine flu, but they definitely have had (sometimes multiple) cases of the following:
1. the "I don't like math" stomachache
This affliction strikes suddenly and with miraculous timing. One minute, your child is happily chatting with classmates and working on an art project...the next, she is slumped over unhappily as her teacher switches gears to her least-favorite subject. Luckily, a trip to the nurse's office removes her from what was once a classroom and now a Dungeon of Math-Related Doom. Recovery is also miraculous: no need to rush to school; the recess bell effects an instant recovery.
2. "I didn't like the lunch" hunger pains
This stomachache normally appears in the afternoon and is sometimes accompanied by overall fatigue or weakness. While at first glance, the child may appear to be genuinely ill, further questioning reveals that the cafeteria served Enchiladas with Sauce That Looks Like Puke again, and the substituted yogurt-with-graham-cracker entree was not very filling. Cured by a snack; if none is available, this illness is not contagious and no classmates will be affected if your child is sent back to class to suffer through the rest of the day.
3. the "my best friend is absent" sniffles
This one is trickier; while most school-related "illnesses" magically disappear at lunchtime or recess, this one lands your kid in the office during recess, making it more likely to appear legitimate. Questioning, however, reveals that whoever your child spends recess with is absent, leaving her with nothing to do. This is usually a 24-hour illness, unless your child's classmate is absent longer than a day. Note: more common among girls than boys.
4. Sympathy Flu
This "illness" strikes when half the class has been absent within the past week because the flu is going around. After watching one classmate after another fall ill in the bathroom, or perhaps the hallway, and get sent home from school, your child decides he could use a day off as well. Your insistence to the nurse that your child is Just Fine and Appeared Normal This Morning falls on deaf ears, because she has seen all too many kids claiming to not feel good go on to actually vomit, and not always in the trash can, to want to take any chances with yours. While she can't force you to pick up a child that has not yet been physically ill, she can absolutely make you feel like a terrible parent for refusing to do so. Most likely to hit during cold and flu season.
and my personal favorite...
5. Leaf-Eating secondary to Acute Boredom
This one may, in fact, require early pickup from school, especially if your child's math teacher made the mistake of placing somewhat poisonous-if-eaten plants in the classroom thinking that surely second graders are old enough not to take bites of the classroom foliage. The phone call from the hesitant-voiced nurse, who is probably thinking "my medical training never prepared me to make a call like this...", will inform you that unfortunately, your child appears to have ingested a leaf that has caused his tongue to swell and his throat to become sore, and while research indicates the plant is not deadly, you are advised to keep an eye on him and take him to the doctor if it gets worse. More likely to affect boys, especially those known for taking dares to do things like chew gum found on hallway walls, or poke sticks into toilets. Bonus: you get a partially eaten plant leaf in a bag as a souvenir.
Because my children come down with the above at least 5 times as often as they are actually sick, I've instituted a rule with the school nurse: do not bother calling me unless there is (a) blood, and a considerable amount of it; (b) visibly broken bones; (c) a fever above the school's limit; or (d) actual vomit, and someone must have witnessed it. Saying "I threw up...in the bathroom" is not enough. The more witnesses, the more believable the story and the greater the likelihood I will show up to retrieve the possibly-sick child. Spontaneously becoming violently ill in the middle of the classroom during a favorite subject, although unfortunate for the teacher, is the best way to guarantee getting to go home--because my kids haven't found out a way to fake that...yet!
Saturday, March 10, 2012
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Mom's math
Your son has karate from 7:15 pm to 8:00 pm at a location 8 miles from your house. Your daughter wants to attend a school function that runs from 6:40 pm to 7:40 pm at her elementary school, which is located 1.5 miles from home. You work until 5:30 pm and will likely not be home until 6:15 pm.
(1) Allowing 15 minutes to hurriedly cook and eat a rushed dinner, how fast will you need to drive to be able to drop off your son at karate and return in time to take your daughter to Family Literacy Night at school without missing any of the "super fun activities they're going to have in the cafeteria with all my friends, Mom?!"
(2) Once you discover there is no solution to problem 1 that falls within the confines of (a) traffic laws, and (b) physics, what is the percentage of guilt you will feel for (a) having a job, and (b) not having a clone?
Sigh.
(1) Allowing 15 minutes to hurriedly cook and eat a rushed dinner, how fast will you need to drive to be able to drop off your son at karate and return in time to take your daughter to Family Literacy Night at school without missing any of the "super fun activities they're going to have in the cafeteria with all my friends, Mom?!"
(2) Once you discover there is no solution to problem 1 that falls within the confines of (a) traffic laws, and (b) physics, what is the percentage of guilt you will feel for (a) having a job, and (b) not having a clone?
Sigh.
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Mom FAIL: school fundraiser edition
Nothing ruins a morning faster than the kids telling me about something I totally screwed up on another day, and now can't fix. This morning's serving of guilt was thrown at me as Chris and Erin walked out the door to head to the bus stop. "Oh, and Mom? You know the chocolate you said was going to be small? Well it isn't, it was BIG! And now it's TOO LATE to order any!!" While seemingingly coming out of nowhere and not relating in any way to gathering backpacks and ensuring feet had shoes, Erin's complaint nevertheless reminded me in three tenths of a second of what I'd forgotten last week: to fill out their fundraiser order form.
Now, I think we all know how I feel about school fundraisers. And this one was the worst one yet. Normally, I can find one or two overpriced, yet useful or pleasingly decorative things to buy--things I might ordinarily buy if they were 1/4 the cost, would never consider at a store if sold at the fundraiser price, but would be able to at least get some use out of. And darn it, I would use whatever I bought EVERY. STINKING. DAY. That kitchen trivet or pencil holder might cost $30, but at least I'd be able to see it on my dining table or desk for the next twenty-odd years. This school, though, decided it would be a good idea to sell overpriced chocolate. 8-oz bags of chocolate ranged from $10 to $20 and probably tasted something like those Whitman's Samplers at CVS.
Worse, the prizes offered for hitting each level of sales were also terrible. No reward was given for selling one item--instead, you had to sell two just to make it onto the prize board at all. The bottom level prize was a rubber bracelet that reminded me of those little party favor rulers with shapes cut into them. Ugly. The next level up was a tiny rock-and-roll themed eraser. Big spenders, these prize people. I think you had to sell something like 12 or 15 items to be able to get anything that didn't originally come from the dollar store.
But even though this was clearly a fundraiser competing for the title of Biggest Fundraiser Ripoff, I remembered my own feelings of disappointment when classmates came in with lengthy, filled-in order forms and received boxes of full of prizes (probably also from the dollar store, though 8-year-old me never suspected as much) as a reward. My mother's protests that fundraiser items were ripoffs and refusal to buy anything more than a roll of wrapping paper did little to console me. So I told the kids that yes, I'd buy their overpriced candy so they could each get a tacky rubber bracelet.
I meant to, I really did. I had big plans to be Not My Mother and let my kids get prizes. I made a mental note that I needed to send them in with orders by Friday. And then I forgot. And Friday came and went. And now, apparently, I am very solidly in the category of Terrible Mother. At least for today, and probably whatever day the kids' classmates receive their tacky bracelets and cheap erasers.
But as guilty as I feel...I also feel the tiniest bit relieved that I have not wasted $40 on a handful of mediocre-at-best chocolate, and can save my money to waste on another fundraiser's overpriced kitchen gadgets or lawn decorations. That I can use until I'm 50, rather than eating up and only getting to "enjoy" (quotation marks necessary) once.
Just don't tell the kids. I'm hoping to someday claim that Mother of the Year trophy I know is coming my way one of these years. I should totally start working on that acceptance speech...
Now, I think we all know how I feel about school fundraisers. And this one was the worst one yet. Normally, I can find one or two overpriced, yet useful or pleasingly decorative things to buy--things I might ordinarily buy if they were 1/4 the cost, would never consider at a store if sold at the fundraiser price, but would be able to at least get some use out of. And darn it, I would use whatever I bought EVERY. STINKING. DAY. That kitchen trivet or pencil holder might cost $30, but at least I'd be able to see it on my dining table or desk for the next twenty-odd years. This school, though, decided it would be a good idea to sell overpriced chocolate. 8-oz bags of chocolate ranged from $10 to $20 and probably tasted something like those Whitman's Samplers at CVS.
Worse, the prizes offered for hitting each level of sales were also terrible. No reward was given for selling one item--instead, you had to sell two just to make it onto the prize board at all. The bottom level prize was a rubber bracelet that reminded me of those little party favor rulers with shapes cut into them. Ugly. The next level up was a tiny rock-and-roll themed eraser. Big spenders, these prize people. I think you had to sell something like 12 or 15 items to be able to get anything that didn't originally come from the dollar store.
But even though this was clearly a fundraiser competing for the title of Biggest Fundraiser Ripoff, I remembered my own feelings of disappointment when classmates came in with lengthy, filled-in order forms and received boxes of full of prizes (probably also from the dollar store, though 8-year-old me never suspected as much) as a reward. My mother's protests that fundraiser items were ripoffs and refusal to buy anything more than a roll of wrapping paper did little to console me. So I told the kids that yes, I'd buy their overpriced candy so they could each get a tacky rubber bracelet.
I meant to, I really did. I had big plans to be Not My Mother and let my kids get prizes. I made a mental note that I needed to send them in with orders by Friday. And then I forgot. And Friday came and went. And now, apparently, I am very solidly in the category of Terrible Mother. At least for today, and probably whatever day the kids' classmates receive their tacky bracelets and cheap erasers.
But as guilty as I feel...I also feel the tiniest bit relieved that I have not wasted $40 on a handful of mediocre-at-best chocolate, and can save my money to waste on another fundraiser's overpriced kitchen gadgets or lawn decorations. That I can use until I'm 50, rather than eating up and only getting to "enjoy" (quotation marks necessary) once.
Just don't tell the kids. I'm hoping to someday claim that Mother of the Year trophy I know is coming my way one of these years. I should totally start working on that acceptance speech...
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Response.
I printed off a copy of my post below, complete with obligatory clipart of a frazzled mom in a messy kitchen, and put it on the fridge.
They saw the note. They read the note. They bought me a plaque for the wall:
This is not over. ;)
They saw the note. They read the note. They bought me a plaque for the wall:
This is not over. ;)
Memo to all family members:
Conditions in the kitchen are rapidly approaching the point at which I decide to go on strike. To prevent such an occurrence from happening, please review the following list of terms:
1. I am not your maid or janitor. I already have a full-time job. If you would like to contribute $2,000/month to pay the rent and bills so that I can quit that full-time job and be a maid instead, that can be arranged. Otherwise…please clean up after yourself.
2. Food in the fridge must be covered and sealed. Food left open turns hard and crusty, and then nobody wants to eat it. If you prefer bread that is not crunchy for your sandwiches, CLOSE THE BAG UP AGAIN when you are done and use the twist tie. Or a paper clip. Or string. I don’t care, just CLOSE the thing. Leftovers go in a baggie or Tupperware. Your plate of spaghetti will not be so delicious tomorrow if you just stick the plate in there and walk away.
3. If you leave an empty box in the fridge or pantry, I will assume it still has food in it and not buy more. Then you will be stuck with the crusty bread you left open for snacks and not good food.
4. Until people decide to start wiping down the counters and sweeping the floor if they spill, shredded cheese is to be used only as an ingredient for dinner, and not for sandwiches or anything made in the microwave. Apparently ants like cheese, too, while I don’t particularly like ants. Nor do I like cleaning up your spilled cheese to prevent ants. See #1.
5. Dirty dishes go in the sink. Not the counter, not the table, not the floor, not your bedroom. The sink. Where they are to be rinsed before you walk away. A bowl that once contained oatmeal, left in the sink all day, is as easy to clean as a bowl that has had bits of food stuck to it with superglue. Since I don’t have glue-dissolving chemicals in the kitchen to use on the dishes, cleaning up is much easier if dishes are RINSED. I would tell you that you can wash your own dishes if you leave them to sit and get crusty, but I don’t enjoy food poisoning. Nor do I enjoy washing dishes. See #1.
6. Spills are easier to clean up if you wipe them up as soon as they happen. If you spill, YOU should be the one to clean it up. Please see #1.
7. I do not call these things “rules” as much as “common sense and basic courtesy.” However, if these items are not adhered to, I reserve the right to (a) remove all dishes from the kitchen and leave you with paper plates instead, and (b) remove all cookable, spillable food from the kitchen and leave you with things like sandwich ingredients only, since those things cause much less of a mess. Again…see #1.
Thank you for your prompt attention to this matter.
Sincerely,
Overworked
Hmph. ;)
1. I am not your maid or janitor. I already have a full-time job. If you would like to contribute $2,000/month to pay the rent and bills so that I can quit that full-time job and be a maid instead, that can be arranged. Otherwise…please clean up after yourself.
2. Food in the fridge must be covered and sealed. Food left open turns hard and crusty, and then nobody wants to eat it. If you prefer bread that is not crunchy for your sandwiches, CLOSE THE BAG UP AGAIN when you are done and use the twist tie. Or a paper clip. Or string. I don’t care, just CLOSE the thing. Leftovers go in a baggie or Tupperware. Your plate of spaghetti will not be so delicious tomorrow if you just stick the plate in there and walk away.
3. If you leave an empty box in the fridge or pantry, I will assume it still has food in it and not buy more. Then you will be stuck with the crusty bread you left open for snacks and not good food.
4. Until people decide to start wiping down the counters and sweeping the floor if they spill, shredded cheese is to be used only as an ingredient for dinner, and not for sandwiches or anything made in the microwave. Apparently ants like cheese, too, while I don’t particularly like ants. Nor do I like cleaning up your spilled cheese to prevent ants. See #1.
5. Dirty dishes go in the sink. Not the counter, not the table, not the floor, not your bedroom. The sink. Where they are to be rinsed before you walk away. A bowl that once contained oatmeal, left in the sink all day, is as easy to clean as a bowl that has had bits of food stuck to it with superglue. Since I don’t have glue-dissolving chemicals in the kitchen to use on the dishes, cleaning up is much easier if dishes are RINSED. I would tell you that you can wash your own dishes if you leave them to sit and get crusty, but I don’t enjoy food poisoning. Nor do I enjoy washing dishes. See #1.
6. Spills are easier to clean up if you wipe them up as soon as they happen. If you spill, YOU should be the one to clean it up. Please see #1.
7. I do not call these things “rules” as much as “common sense and basic courtesy.” However, if these items are not adhered to, I reserve the right to (a) remove all dishes from the kitchen and leave you with paper plates instead, and (b) remove all cookable, spillable food from the kitchen and leave you with things like sandwich ingredients only, since those things cause much less of a mess. Again…see #1.
Thank you for your prompt attention to this matter.
Sincerely,
Overworked
Hmph. ;)
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Holiday gift ideas...approved by Mom.
Black Friday is almost here, and with it the start of the Christmas shopping season. I'm sure the relatives back home will be wanting to know what the kids would like for Christmas. I was going to let the kids write up their typical Christmas wish lists until they all started talking about wanting things like iphones and puppies. Since they aren't really operating in the realm of reality, I decided I know what they need better than they do. So--here is our family Christmas wish list:
Flying alarm clock.
I am pretty sure this is what it would take to get any of us out of bed on the first try. I normally set three alarms to ensure I get up, while the kids need to be personally escorted out of bed. Sometimes repeatedly. I think knowing that there's about to be a show going on where the boys chase a helicopter around the room would be enough to get me out of bed on the first alarm. If anyone gets this for the boys--I promise to capture the fun on video, post it on facebook, and show it to current/future/potential girlfriends.
Shoe locator.
Yes, I realize this is a link to a key locator. Apparently technology hasn't quite caught up to my children's skill in losing things, because so far the only "shoe locator" I can find is a GPS-enabled shoe that helps track lost loved ones. Since my kids' shoes don't normally wander the neighborhood on their own, but do wind up shoved behind furniture, under clothing piles, etc., I need something that tracks over shorter distances with more precision. I figure I can tie these on to their shoes race chip style. Six of them means one per kid's shoe...which is totally necessary since both shoes in a pair stand an equal chance of going rogue when the school bus is due at the corner in less than a minute.
Kids' recipe book.
Because I am so over cooking dinner every night. They're old enough to earn their keep!
Dumped clothes alarm.
I have told the kids a million times not to leave their dirty clothes dumped on the bathroom floor, or on their bedroom floor 1 foot away from their hamper. Maybe if the floor starts shrieking when the clothes hit, they'll put them where they belong?
Shovel.
To assist the kids in cleaning their rooms.
Multiplication fact CDs.
Nothing makes a car trip more fun than song after song of math facts! Erin will be especially thankful for this one as she is currently learning her multiplication facts, and so far seems to want nothing to do with multiplication facts.
Winning lottery tickets will also be happily accepted, as well as all-expenses-paid trips to boarding school. Just kidding. Maybe.
Flying alarm clock.
I am pretty sure this is what it would take to get any of us out of bed on the first try. I normally set three alarms to ensure I get up, while the kids need to be personally escorted out of bed. Sometimes repeatedly. I think knowing that there's about to be a show going on where the boys chase a helicopter around the room would be enough to get me out of bed on the first alarm. If anyone gets this for the boys--I promise to capture the fun on video, post it on facebook, and show it to current/future/potential girlfriends.
Shoe locator.
Yes, I realize this is a link to a key locator. Apparently technology hasn't quite caught up to my children's skill in losing things, because so far the only "shoe locator" I can find is a GPS-enabled shoe that helps track lost loved ones. Since my kids' shoes don't normally wander the neighborhood on their own, but do wind up shoved behind furniture, under clothing piles, etc., I need something that tracks over shorter distances with more precision. I figure I can tie these on to their shoes race chip style. Six of them means one per kid's shoe...which is totally necessary since both shoes in a pair stand an equal chance of going rogue when the school bus is due at the corner in less than a minute.
Kids' recipe book.
Because I am so over cooking dinner every night. They're old enough to earn their keep!
Dumped clothes alarm.
I have told the kids a million times not to leave their dirty clothes dumped on the bathroom floor, or on their bedroom floor 1 foot away from their hamper. Maybe if the floor starts shrieking when the clothes hit, they'll put them where they belong?
Shovel.
To assist the kids in cleaning their rooms.
Multiplication fact CDs.
Nothing makes a car trip more fun than song after song of math facts! Erin will be especially thankful for this one as she is currently learning her multiplication facts, and so far seems to want nothing to do with multiplication facts.
Winning lottery tickets will also be happily accepted, as well as all-expenses-paid trips to boarding school. Just kidding. Maybe.
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Tougher than I look
One of the great things about moving to Texas, and having my sister here, is the time I have to develop new skills that help the kids take me seriously when I give them orders. Like shooting. I'm thinking of displaying my shooting targets prominently over the TV, as an ever-present reminder that maybe they want to not watch quite so many cartoons and clean the house instead since it's clear I can back up my threats to take them out. "I brought you into this world AND I CAN TAKE YOU OUT OF IT!" seems to strike a little more fear into the hearts of the kids when they're faced with a bullet-riddled silhouette on a target paper...
Also, lest Brian think he's the only athletic one in the house, I've taken up running again. It's always a good thing to be able to outrun the kids, and I'm up to 6 miles now at a decent pace, so if they ever decide to try to make a run for it after some offense against the household, my chances of catching them are looking pretty good. Usually I go for a few runs a week, anywhere from 2 to 6 miles, but today I've taken it a step further and completed my first Warrior Dash.
Warrior Dash is a 5k race with obstacles along the course. I wasn't too worried, since I can run double that distance fairly easily these days. My lack of upper body strength had me worried about a few of the obstacles--it's been a long time since I've tried scaling any walls or fences--but I've gotten pretty excited about adventure racing and wanted to see what I was capable of. My goal was to eventually do a Tough Mudder, and so as a preview of sorts, I tried Warrior Dash--kind of a "Tough Mudder Lite."
The race started off as a basic 5k over mostly easy terrain. We were out in the middle of the wilderness on some farm- or ranch-like property, running along a dirt path through trees. In some spots there were some pretty steep inclines and ravines, but that's apparently what "nature" is like, and it wasn't too bad. Then the obstacles started...
The first few really weren't bad at all. There was one where we had a series of waist-high walls to climb over, alternating with barbed wire to duck under--easy enough. There was a mud pit to walk through, but only my shoes were covered and as long as I went slow enough it wasn't too slippery. There was a field of tires to high-step through before coming to some wrecked cars to scramble over and then more tires on the other side. All easy. Then we came to this cargo net structure with horizontal netting that everyone was climbing over bear-crawl style. It looked easy but was actually SO. HARD. I was on my hands and knees for more of it than felt comfortable because my arms didn't want to hold my weight and my legs were rather tired from running. That one wore me out more than I expected and I wound up walking between some of the obstacles instead of running the whole way. There was also a teeter-totter-looking structure (that thankfully didn't move) where we walked up, then down, a series of angled planks. That one FREAKED ME OUT. It was up in the air and there was enough space between each plank "path" that it seemed a person who fell would fall to the ground and probably hit a few things on the way down--not fun. I started off walking but pretty soon was trying to crouch and hold on with my hands.
The obstacles that looked the worst, though, wound up being better than I expected and I felt all kinds of tough for making it through them! There was a steep incline to go up, and I got almost the whole way up before needing the available climbing rope. There was a tall cargo net structure, maybe 20 feet high (note: I'm terrible with estimating; it could have been 10 feet high or 100 feet for all I know) that looked like an inverted V--up the ropes on one side, over the top, and back down the other side. Piece of cake. The one obstacle that had me the most worried before and all through the race was the Warrior Wall...what seemed like a mile-high barrier with ropes. I am not Spiderman. I do not climb walls, or ropes, or really anything. I was pretty nervous I'd be the lame person not able to do it and having to go around. The built-in footholds were barely enough for the toes of my shoes and I had to rely on the rope to get up...and somehow I found myself at the top of the wall on my first attempt, without any trouble. After hoisting myself over the top of the wall, my feet found the ladder on the other side, and soon I was back down on the ground...wall conquered!
The best part was the final obstacle--a swim, yes swim, through mud at the finish line. We had to crawl into a pond of mud and stay under barbed wire or rope or trees (by that time I'd stopped looking at what was up there) which I soon found was deep enough that the easiest method of making my way through was the breaststroke. Through cold, slimy mud. I emerged looking like I could be a founder of Blue Man Group's dirtier-looking cover group...basically covered in what looked like brown paint from my neck to my shoes. The fire hose they had nearby got most of it off while making me look like a drowned rat in the process, but at that point, I didn't care how cold the water was, how hard it was hitting, or how much of a hot mess I looked...I had done it. I made it through the obstacles. I climbed that wall! I FINISHED WARRIOR DASH.
So watch out, kids...there may be three of you, but the one of me is toughening up!
Also, lest Brian think he's the only athletic one in the house, I've taken up running again. It's always a good thing to be able to outrun the kids, and I'm up to 6 miles now at a decent pace, so if they ever decide to try to make a run for it after some offense against the household, my chances of catching them are looking pretty good. Usually I go for a few runs a week, anywhere from 2 to 6 miles, but today I've taken it a step further and completed my first Warrior Dash.
Warrior Dash is a 5k race with obstacles along the course. I wasn't too worried, since I can run double that distance fairly easily these days. My lack of upper body strength had me worried about a few of the obstacles--it's been a long time since I've tried scaling any walls or fences--but I've gotten pretty excited about adventure racing and wanted to see what I was capable of. My goal was to eventually do a Tough Mudder, and so as a preview of sorts, I tried Warrior Dash--kind of a "Tough Mudder Lite."
The race started off as a basic 5k over mostly easy terrain. We were out in the middle of the wilderness on some farm- or ranch-like property, running along a dirt path through trees. In some spots there were some pretty steep inclines and ravines, but that's apparently what "nature" is like, and it wasn't too bad. Then the obstacles started...
The first few really weren't bad at all. There was one where we had a series of waist-high walls to climb over, alternating with barbed wire to duck under--easy enough. There was a mud pit to walk through, but only my shoes were covered and as long as I went slow enough it wasn't too slippery. There was a field of tires to high-step through before coming to some wrecked cars to scramble over and then more tires on the other side. All easy. Then we came to this cargo net structure with horizontal netting that everyone was climbing over bear-crawl style. It looked easy but was actually SO. HARD. I was on my hands and knees for more of it than felt comfortable because my arms didn't want to hold my weight and my legs were rather tired from running. That one wore me out more than I expected and I wound up walking between some of the obstacles instead of running the whole way. There was also a teeter-totter-looking structure (that thankfully didn't move) where we walked up, then down, a series of angled planks. That one FREAKED ME OUT. It was up in the air and there was enough space between each plank "path" that it seemed a person who fell would fall to the ground and probably hit a few things on the way down--not fun. I started off walking but pretty soon was trying to crouch and hold on with my hands.
The obstacles that looked the worst, though, wound up being better than I expected and I felt all kinds of tough for making it through them! There was a steep incline to go up, and I got almost the whole way up before needing the available climbing rope. There was a tall cargo net structure, maybe 20 feet high (note: I'm terrible with estimating; it could have been 10 feet high or 100 feet for all I know) that looked like an inverted V--up the ropes on one side, over the top, and back down the other side. Piece of cake. The one obstacle that had me the most worried before and all through the race was the Warrior Wall...what seemed like a mile-high barrier with ropes. I am not Spiderman. I do not climb walls, or ropes, or really anything. I was pretty nervous I'd be the lame person not able to do it and having to go around. The built-in footholds were barely enough for the toes of my shoes and I had to rely on the rope to get up...and somehow I found myself at the top of the wall on my first attempt, without any trouble. After hoisting myself over the top of the wall, my feet found the ladder on the other side, and soon I was back down on the ground...wall conquered!
The best part was the final obstacle--a swim, yes swim, through mud at the finish line. We had to crawl into a pond of mud and stay under barbed wire or rope or trees (by that time I'd stopped looking at what was up there) which I soon found was deep enough that the easiest method of making my way through was the breaststroke. Through cold, slimy mud. I emerged looking like I could be a founder of Blue Man Group's dirtier-looking cover group...basically covered in what looked like brown paint from my neck to my shoes. The fire hose they had nearby got most of it off while making me look like a drowned rat in the process, but at that point, I didn't care how cold the water was, how hard it was hitting, or how much of a hot mess I looked...I had done it. I made it through the obstacles. I climbed that wall! I FINISHED WARRIOR DASH.
So watch out, kids...there may be three of you, but the one of me is toughening up!
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