[da-per]: neat; trim; smart
Those Petersen kids looked dapper in their Sunday clothes!
I had to laugh because the third definition said: "small and active" and if that doesn't describe my children I don't know what does!
Monday, December 20, 2010
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Family Photos
You know how these sessions go--you're telling your screaming, frowning, pouting child how much you love their sweet, little smile and how you will buy them a pony and put a swimming pool in the backyard if they will just smile. You're even resorting to saying the most ridiculous phrases ("pickles in pantyhose!"). You're even wondering if those potty words your child always giggles about would make them laugh right now. There is nothing you won't promise, won't say. Really what you want to be saying is, "I will spank you and put you in a time out and feed you liver and lima beans for the next week if you ruin this classy ensemble that I spent hours putting together." But you can't say those things even though you feel them to your very depths because once a child cries, you get that ugly, red, blotchy face that photoshop can't work out. I think these photograhy sessions are such an exercise in restraint and bad parenting.
Despite all this, I get so excited when I see that a fellow blogger has posted their family photos. I don't know, it's so magical to see everyone dressed up all matchy (not too matchy--that's lame) and looking so sweet. I don't know how everyone else's experience is, but I only got about 30 seconds of smiling from Owen. I was all out of bribes and Derek was all out of kindness, so this is what we got. I do love them and I do love my friend for taking them. So, if you're looking for a talented photographer, just let me know!
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Turkey Trot
You may remember a couple of months ago when I posted about how Derek and I had started running together in the evenings. Well, like the Petersen that he is, he was certain that our running would be more meaningful if we were working toward a goal. A goal other than breathing and making it home to an EXTRA large bowl of ice cream. I mean really, is there more?
He decided that we should run a race. I promised him that I would only run if he ran with me the whole time. He assured me he would, so I decided I would do it with him. A "friend" (Do you call people friends who ask you to join in races?) we'll call "Debbie" to protect her identity said we should run the Mesa Turkey Trot with her and her husband. So, we signed up.
Derek decided we should follow a training regime for this "race" and proceeded to find about three different ones online. Of course all of these schedules assume you'll start prepping in all seriousness about eight weeks before the race--we only had four.
Of course we committed ourselves to running every single night once we found the schedule, but five minutes later we realized that we have lives and couldn't do that, so we did the best we could. We ran three and a half miles once, 4 miles once and 5 miles once even. Mostly though we ran our two or three miles.
Since we were going to be suffering through this race, it was only fair that when Derek's brother Devin showed up, that we "invited" him to run with us. We only taunted him about not running maybe a couple of times. We were merely building his character. Never mind that he hadn't been training at all. The kid is nineteen and plays soccer every chance he gets--I was much more worried about me being carried away on a stretcher than I was about him.
Needless to say, "Debbie" almost backed out of the race the day before. However, her husband must've been building her character at their home, because she changed her mind. Other friends ran too. There was great fun had by thousands of us on Thanksgiving morning in the chilly Arizona weather.
AND??? I know you're dying to know if I completed the race. Well, I did. I ran every single step of the way--all 6.2 miles and I finished in 57 minutes and I don't know how many seconds exactly. Our mile time averaged 9:28. Not impressive if you actually do this sort of thing in all seriousness, but I was happy to be alive.
We only got one photo when we got home. And, Picasa is being annoying and saved it in some unknown place and I don't have patience to find it now. Grrr!
He decided that we should run a race. I promised him that I would only run if he ran with me the whole time. He assured me he would, so I decided I would do it with him. A "friend" (Do you call people friends who ask you to join in races?) we'll call "Debbie" to protect her identity said we should run the Mesa Turkey Trot with her and her husband. So, we signed up.
Derek decided we should follow a training regime for this "race" and proceeded to find about three different ones online. Of course all of these schedules assume you'll start prepping in all seriousness about eight weeks before the race--we only had four.
Of course we committed ourselves to running every single night once we found the schedule, but five minutes later we realized that we have lives and couldn't do that, so we did the best we could. We ran three and a half miles once, 4 miles once and 5 miles once even. Mostly though we ran our two or three miles.
Since we were going to be suffering through this race, it was only fair that when Derek's brother Devin showed up, that we "invited" him to run with us. We only taunted him about not running maybe a couple of times. We were merely building his character. Never mind that he hadn't been training at all. The kid is nineteen and plays soccer every chance he gets--I was much more worried about me being carried away on a stretcher than I was about him.
Needless to say, "Debbie" almost backed out of the race the day before. However, her husband must've been building her character at their home, because she changed her mind. Other friends ran too. There was great fun had by thousands of us on Thanksgiving morning in the chilly Arizona weather.
AND??? I know you're dying to know if I completed the race. Well, I did. I ran every single step of the way--all 6.2 miles and I finished in 57 minutes and I don't know how many seconds exactly. Our mile time averaged 9:28. Not impressive if you actually do this sort of thing in all seriousness, but I was happy to be alive.
We only got one photo when we got home. And, Picasa is being annoying and saved it in some unknown place and I don't have patience to find it now. Grrr!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)