Blog Posts by What Atrip

My husband calls himself a geek. I guess that makes me Mrs. Geek. He is a computer programmer, and I am a self taught computer and gadget junkie. Together we ride the wave of electronics, internet and social media samplings, each more enticing than the next. In our spare time we instant message each other from across the room. On date night we go to the book store. With our computers. Romantic, no? He gets up to browse the programming section while I, glued to Facebook or a blog writing project, cozy up to my wireless mouse. We understand each other.

Why then, were we shocked to see our toddlers, all three of them, figuring out how to access YouTube, Angry Birds, Pandora and more - on the phone, the iPad and the computer.

At first we were so proud.

"Look at that!" we exclaimed, as our two year old easily navigated the on/off button of the iPad.

"Ohhh, how cute is she!" we remarked, as our other two year old found her way into YouTube and shrieked with

The first time I fell in love, I was 11. The white glow emanating from my suitor drew me in, despite the contrasting cold, frigid atmosphere. I drifted forward in a cult-like manner, knowing I would be forever changed. The dizzying way I walked with this new love, slipping, sliding, groping for upright forward movement. There was nothing that could have kept me from falling. Well, except gravity. After three decades of throwing my body at the ice, I still curse the inability to repeal that law, but I am still in love.

It didn't matter that I wasn't a very good skater, or that my family didn't understand the skating world. It didn't matter to me that I had to work at the rink to pay for ice time. I begged and negotiated my way into private lessons, rode my bike to the rink and got up at 4:30 in the morning to practice. That's what the good skaters did. I needed to do it too. Much later in life I realized I really wasn't so bad at skating, I had just been extremely low in

Well, I made it through. I wish I could say that had attended every day, but our time schedule just would not allow it. I did however, walk out the door with a smile on my face, and ten pounds less on my body. Yay! I have been calorie counting so that helped. But what boot camp did for me is remind me how good it feels to exercise. I have adopted a new motto: "Get fit, live fit, stay fit, pants fit." Mostly I have liked the feeling of 'having' exercised, not necessarily actually doing it. Sometimes that is still true. But now I am a little bit closer to wearing the clothes collecting dust in my closet. I hope they are still in style when I can fit back into them.

I no longer think he is trying to kill me. That would ruin it all for him. No, instead. He is keeping me alive so he can continue to torture me. Mock Nordic Track-like movements, lactic acid buildup inducing squats and midget jumping jacks pepper a work out like no other. Yes, I am down eight pounds. Yes, I want to keep getting fit and lose more weight. Yes, I hate sweating and pain. Oh, and yes, I paid him to do this to me.

He is trying to kill me. I swear it. I recovered from the pain of last week, or so I thought. Then I went again this week because I committed to it. Eye on the prize, eye on the prize. My legs almost gave out about 20 minutes in. I wasn't even really out of breath. But then, how could I be if I couldn't move? "Keep going!" bellows Aron, our super fit instructor. When he demonstrates the exercises it looks so freaking easy. It probably is. If you have no body fat and do them many times a day. Which I don't. Two to three times a week is plenty for me. I'd like to be able to put my skates on come Sunday.

One of the gals in the class turned and asked me if it was my first time there. I shook my head. "Nope, fourth". Was it that obvious? I looked in the gym mirror and it WAS that obvious. Red-faced, lumpy, and hair flying everywhere. That's me. Former skating competitor turned middle-aged suburban blob. For Halloween I had the best costume. It was so easy I didn't have to do

"Your single good deed, big or small, can inspire others and cause a ripple effect of kindness that continues to grow as others join in. Start something today - the more people who take action, the larger your ripple will become."

~ Yahoo! Motherboard, The Kindness Ripple

When our triplets were born 11 weeks early, it was as though we had been yanked off the planet and thrown into some alternate universe with large crashing waves all around. We had no knowledge of the local language, the customs or the people. Our crash course introduction lasted, oh, say, five minutes, and then along with the three new little people who had also been yanked out of their realm, we were all delivered to this new environment.

The NICU. Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. Intensive was right, but we soon came to realize "care" was the real deal.

Yahoo!'s generous $100.00 donation to spread kindness and encourage a ripple effect had me thinking hard as to where it should go. The NICU that

I discovered the secret to weight loss. Pain. No, not the kind of emotional pain that makes you forget to eat. Much more superficial than that. Boot camp pain. Day one was pretty good. I joked with the instructor how it was easier than learning new tricks in ice skating. He said, "I'm going to make you eat those words!" I smiled, but secretly wondered if he would. I had no idea that not only would I eat my words, but that would be the last thing I ate.
I was excited to finally focus on my fitness, and high on endorphins, the day sailed by. I knew 5:30am tomorrow would come with a whole new appreciation for pain. Only, tomorrow came that night. My husband and I went to dinner (low cal entrée choice of course), and a movie. I felt relaxed, happy and ready to hit the gym again. Then, as the credits rolled, I stood up from my seat, correction, I tried to stand up from my seat. My husband could barely contain his chuckles at my obvious discomfort. I told him to can it, and he said that was