Mouth Stones
I told K to play with the tooth with his tongue. Push it as far away as it'd go, then pull it back. 30 seconds later and the tooth let go. K was able to return to his now-soggy honey nut cheerios. And I left. I go where I'm needed, like that old guy in the kung fu show.
Swimming
5am alarm again today. I neglected to prep a kid last night to accompany me, so I went solo. Basically, I need the kid to pile up swim shorts, shirt, shoes, goggles, a towel, and maybe other stuff – the night before. Otherwise we'll spend half an hour the morning-of searching the house for each of these things while I become increasingly frustrated that I'm "falling behind" relative to my schedule. Prior proper planning....
| Date | Distance (Yards) | Time (Minutes) | Pace (Per 100yds) |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2026-08-28 | 500 | 25 | 5.00 |
| 2026-08-31 | 600 | 20 | 3.33 |
| 2026-09-01 | 650 | 20 | 3.08 |
| 2026-09-03 | 800 | 21 | 2.63 |
| 2026-09-04 | 1,000 | 26 | 2.60 |
| 2026-09-07 | 1,100 | 28 | 2.55 |
| 2026-09-08 | 1,000 | 23 | 2.30 |
| 2026-09-09 | 1,250 | 30 | 2.40 |
After I had completed a few laps and my shoulder was doing fine, I determined to do twenty-five laps. This took exactly thirty minutes. This is a great achievement, in that I was swimming actively for thirty straight minutes. That's also my time goal for doing a one mile swim. I need to swim 40% more in the same amount of time to reach my goal. One lap takes 72 seconds at present. I need to get that down to 51 seconds, and it needs to be sustainable. It's definitely a long-term goal.
I think I'm going to start swimming Mondays and Tuesdays, then run on Wednesdays and swim again Thursdays and Fridays. That means I'm only doing two consecutive swim days. My shoulders will thank me.
Did I mention yesterday that S hit the gym? I think I did. Whatever the case, she hit the gym last night. She had put W down for the night. He slept for about thirty minutes and was done. I tried to incorporate him into our bedtime Bible study, but he was extremely vocal about not wanting me to sit. Or read. Or be heard. Or be comfortable in any sense. It was kind of comical, trying to read this book during the brief moments when W was taking breaths of air between screams. I gave up after several minutes. I plopped W back in his crib for the duration, and wouldn't you know it, he was even less excited about that! When we moved on to prayer time, I retrieved W from his crib. He was a lot more willing to be quiet. Surprise, surprise.
