
Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek
"Race for the Cure" may have been the name of this event, spelled out in large fancy lettering across my t-shirt, but that would sound misleading to my readers. And the last thing I would EVER want to do is mislead my readers. (pay no attention to the devilish grin) I have to admit, for us it was more of a "Stroll for the Cure."
But no matter. Whether racing or strolling or riding (in Miss Priss' case), the final results were the same -- moving in the direction of a cure for breast cancer, and having some fun in the process!
Our day started much like any other - all of us converging at my mom's house at various degrees of tardiness, but not more then half an hour late.
After much agonizing over the positioning of our race numbers (we decided the back was the appropriate place), we finally had our acts together, and away we went!
Mom, Sissy, and Miss Priss
So what is my secret for keeping a toddler happy in her stroller while waiting around for the Big Race to start? A big a$$ bag of Cheerios!
Aunt C, Mom, Sissy, Myself & Priss
Miss Priss was content in her stroller for most of the
race fast-ish walk. But, really, how long can you expect a toddler, hopped up on Cheerios, to want to stay strapped down? Eventually, the monkey had to be let loose...
--
--
First there was walking. But that was soooooo s...l....o....w. Since she's a monkey, we thought we'd try swinging....
Apparently, several minutes of swinging starts to feel like you're arms are being ripped from their sockets. We were ordered to stop by the only one who bothered to notice the pained face on my little one - my mom. Time to try a new tactic....
--
--
--
--
--
--
Shoulders! Unfortunately, I am not full of testosterone and strapping muscles. This really is a man's job.
After giving up on all our strategies, we noticed that we were rapidly losing ground. By this point, Priss thought it was funny to run off toward the parking lots we were passing. She has zero concept of walking in the middle of the street. (Hmm, guess that should be a GOOD thing?) A vote was taken (by me) of all eligible voters (me) and it was decided unanimously (by just me) that Priss had to go back in the stroller. Sure, there was some screaming and crying about it, but give the girl some chocolate cookies, and she's seeing the bright side of a stroller existence! (Yeah, I solve all my kid's problems with food. So?)
And we walked.
And walked.
And walked and walked and walked.
Until.....
THE FINISH LINE!!!
I have no idea how long it took. Apparently, only "runners" get clocked. Whatever. I officially declare that we were the fastest WALKERS there!
As you can imagine, watching Priss with all those Cheerios made us all very hungry. What to do? Head off to chain breakfast-making joint that charges too much for pancakes!
But by then, Miss Priss was too pooped to participate. She did walk a whole five blocks, you know!
I think this picture makes me look like a rabbit. But I shouldn't tell you that, or you'll see nothing but a rabbit from now on.
Whoops.
Look at the pretty sleeping baby!!!