March Madness! Go Nova!

Two of London's Villanova fans gather on the Prime Meridian to show their support before tonight's game. The sign, which is difficult to read, says,
"Clemson Stinks!" and has a picture of a stinkbomb on it.

Villanova faces Clemson tonight in the first round of the NCAA Tournament. As you can see from above, we have a fair amount of Wildcat Pride in this house. The boys can even sing the fight song (though not the last verse, which I can never remember, so I can't teach it to them, either.)

Currently I'm tied for 43rd in my pool of 230 people. Not bad, considering I haven't seen one game this year. But I couldn't be prouder. Unless, of course, I end of winning. Now THAT would be cool.

I'm currently trying to decide if I want to wake up at 1:40 a.m. to watch the game or if my bad cold will keep me in bed. Only time will tell.

March Madness, International Style

Like clockwork, every year at certain times, I get a pang of yearning to be in the U.S. Those times include (in no particular order):

• Halloween (So Thing One and Thing Two could experience the true meaning of the holiday);

• Thanksgiving (Though I've become quite attached to our own Thanksgiving extravaganza);

• Any Sunday in January (So we could sit around and watch American football in the afternoon);

• March Madness (Otherwise known as the NCAA Tournament).

I adore March Madness, even from afar. You get 66 collegiate basketball teams, some you know, some you don't, playing their heart out to win the title of the nation's best. The best time of the entire tournament is the first four frantic days, when you get basketball joy from morning until night.

I come by my love for March Madness honestly. I'm a Villanova Wildcat, so I learned from my first year at school how much fun March Madness can be, ESPECIALLY when your team wins unexpectedly and thousands of people rush the Quad to celebrate our good fortune.

But times have changed, and I don't have a quad to rush or a keg to tap any more. Now I have to participate in March Madness remotely, which just isn't the same. Thanks to the wonders of the Interweb, I can still play in a pool, and last year I even held first place for a day! Whoo-hoo!! I also thought I'd be a lock for being the furthest participant, but I was foiled in that title by someone from China. 

This morning I dutifully filled out my brackets and sent in my payment via PayPal. I'm hoping that the CBS March Madness website will actually work this year and I'll be able to watch my beloved Wildcats (they've promised that I'd be able to do so since 2006, but it hasn't worked yet). The sad part is that if we win, I'll probably be the only person in London who cares. 

Hip! Hip! Hooray!

It was a dark and stormy night...

OK. It wasn't stormy (because it wasn't Sunday night) but it was dark, because it was the middle of the night one day last week. 

"Mom?" Thing Two said, and within a nanosecond, I was bolt upright in bed and wide awake.

"What is it, honey?" I asked.

"I had a bad dream. Can I sleep with you?" he asked.

As there was a vacancy, since Mr. MarathonMum was out of town, I said, "Climb on up!"

We both fell back to sleep quickly. The next morning, I could hear him just beginning to wake up. He was rustling around a bit when all of the sudden I heard him say, "Hip! Hip! Hooray! Hip! Hip! Hooray!"

I don't know who or what he was cheering for, but it was nice to hear someone start the day on the right foot.

The Man Cold

This is a clip from the BBC show Man/Woman, which I haven't ever seen, but I now plan to look it up. For my American readers, 999 is what you dial instead of 911, "Lemsip" is a well-known cold remedy and CBeebies is a children's television channel that plays "Teletubbies" and other pre-school fare.

Where the Wild Things Are

Please note the distance between Thing One's ankles and the bottom of the costume.

Children in the United Kingdom celebrated World Book Day last week, and Thing One and Thing Two did so in style.

Thing One went as Max from "Where the Wild Things Are" by Maurice Sendak because that was the book his class was reading that week. But Thing One was not just any old Max, oh no. His Max costume was 37 years old-- first worn by his Uncle Mike in Kindergarten, lovingingly made by MarathonMum's Mom (Thing One's grandma).

Luckily for him, Thing One is a very tall and skinny eight-year-old, so he was Just Able (see above) to fit into a costume made for a five-year-old originally. Thing One/Max was so excited about World Book Day that he awoke an hour early, got dressed immediately and then came downstairs to wake me up. "Why are you already dressed?" I asked him. "Because I didn't want to waste any time getting to school!" That's got to be a first.

The Max costume is a serious part of MarathonMum's family history; MarathonMumMum spent a long time laboring over it, and years later the love and handiwork that went into it is evident. Following Uncle Mike's legendary performance as Max-- he brought the house down at Rockaway Valley School-- the costume went on to have several incarnations, including, if memory serves, as a muskrat when MarathonMum performed "Muskrat Love" by Captain and Tenille at a talent show when she was eight or so.

So Max lives on. The original Max, Uncle Mike, wanted to know if this Max could "Stare into their yellow eyes without blinking once," and I believe he could. Just as so long as the Wild Thing wasn't his brother, Thing Two, who knows all of this Max's weaknesses and truly is a Wild Thing.

Thing Two dressed as a Spider, because his class was singing, "The Incy Wincy Spider" in assembly.

Greenwich Park 2K Fun Run

Thing One and Thing Two mentally preparing for the run.

What better way to celebrate Mothering Sunday than a 2K Fun Run with your sons?

It was a spectacular Sunday, perfect for a morning race. Thing One spent most of the morning running around the house, saying that he needed to practice. I kept trying to explain to him that he ought to conserve his energy, not spend it. Thing Two just kept worrying about falling again at the start, which was fair enough.

Both Thing One and Thing Two are race veterans, having done this same race a year ago. The family mantra for the race was, "No sitting on benches!" since after the race last year, Thing One admitted that he wanted a little rest in the middle of the race, so sat down on one of the many benches along the route.

We got to the start, with Thing One lined up at the front and Thing Two and I hanging all the way in the back. Thing Two kept tugging on my hand, wanting us to go farther forward in the start scrum, but I kept telling him, "No. We're good back here. Trust me."

The gun sounded and we were off. Thing One sprinted ahead, while Thing Two and I held hands and did a nice slow and steady run. Luckily, we didn't trip over anyone at the start, so that's already an improvement on previous performances.

This year, we weren't battling for last (that honour went to a boy who looked about 3 and his dad), and in fact, our "slow and steady" race strategy proved to be a winner as we passed about five people in the latter part of the race. Constant encouragement-- "You're doing awesome" or "You're so fast!"-- seemed to help.

Before I knew it, we were on the final straightaway to the finish. "Run as fast as you can!" I told him, "You could even beat that girl in front of you!" (and he did).

At the finish, we met up with Thing One, who told me, "My lungs were about to burst!" to which I replied, "That's the fun part!"

I don't know what our times were, but it doesn't matter. Thing Two was convinced he had won, because he got a medal. But our official times don't matter, it was a brilliant morning.

Thing Two and Thing One exhausted after the race.

Early Mother's Day Present

Here in England, we're celebrating Mothering Sunday this weekend. I know this because I saw the £5 flower arrangement with daisies and carnations at Somerfield today. (Obviously, this is a gift for someone who feels ambivalent, or perhaps even hostile, toward his or her mother. But I digress.)

This morning, like many other mornings, we were running late to try to get out the door and to school on time. Luckily for me, I had very thoughtfully left my trousers I wore yesterday on the floor, and my sweater from three days ago on our chest, but had no time to brush my hair. I'd like to say that I made a quick prayer to myself that no one would notice, but that would be a lie. I just don't care that much what people in the playground think.

In any case, I was quickly lacing up my red Converse while sitting at the bottom of the stairs when Thing Two approached.

"Mom?" he asked, as I braced myself for some last-minute request, like cupcakes for 30 children.

"You look SO BEAUTIFUL today," he said. 

Happy Mother's Day to me!

Happy 40th Birthday, Mr. MarathonMum!

A very happy birthday to Mr. MarathonMum. It's a big one, because it ends in a zero. But we're going to celebrate in a very low-key way, as per Mr. MarathonMum's instructions. Besides, we did a big blow out for his 30th, when I surprised him by organizing a party and having his whole family fly in to celebrate with us. (And it was a good thing I did it, too, because we moved to London nine months later.)

In the spirit of all things birthdays, here's my list of what I love most about Mr. MarathonMum:

1. His patience

2. His love of obscure music (which he has passed on to Thing One and Thing Two)

3. His confidence (ditto)

4. His intelligence 

5. His pizza.

Happy Birthday to you! May there be many more.

New look MarathonMum

After spending so much time on my blog on Sunday night/Monday morning, I was ready for a change. I was getting a little bored of the dots. I know the dots had only been around for about a year, but what can I say, I'm a fickle person. 

For those of you who checked the blog yesterday, you saw a different layout from this one, but in the end, I decided it was just too boring, so I went with this blue one. I've also added some pictures and some links. The good people at Blogger have made it much easier to reformat blogs now (as opposed to three years ago when you had to get down and dirty with HTML), so I suspect I'll be messing around with it much more. 

Enjoy.

4:47 a.m.

So that's it. I have to say, in summary, the Academy Awards show wasn't very exciting this year. No really fab dresses. No drunken acceptance speeches. No mishaps. It might have been a snooze fest except for the fact that I took a Disco Nap. 

But I have to say I'm thrilled that they finished 30 minutes earlier than last year. Something to shoot for next year.

So after 46 posts (four fewer than last year, but with 30 minutes less of material) but no cups of coffee or chocolate chip cookies to sustain me, this is MarathonMum signing off.

This might be "No Country for Old Men" but it also is "A Country for Tired Women," so I'm going to bed.

4:40 a.m.

Mr. Movie picked "There Will Be Blood" for Best Director (and Best Picture) but I'm putting money (well, not literally) on "No Country for Old Men." Fantastic film. Incredibly violent, sure, but I haven't been in so much suspense in a movie for a long, long time. 

And I'm right. I love being right. Just ask Mr. MarathonMum. They just showed the Mrs. Coen's (Frances McDormand and the other Mrs. Coen.) They didn't win Best Picture for "Fargo"-- they only won screenplay for that. So they're already up one award for "No Country for Old Men" since they've already got two statues (each!) tonight.

Best Picture goes to, as expected, "No Country for Old Men." Now they have an Oscar for each hand! And a spare in case they lose one! How lucky is that?

4:38 a.m.

Two awards to go, so it's possible that I'll get to bed before Mr. MarathonMum's alarm clock at 5:15 a.m. 

Bloody hell. Daniel Day Lewis is 50 years old. God he looks phenomenal. Props to him for that, it's got to be said.

4:28 a.m.

Oh! Hey!! We're in the home stretch!! Only three awards left!!! (You can tell I'm tired by my excessive use of the exclamation points).

Next up: Best Actor. 

Mr. Movie tipped Greenwich's favourite son Daniel Day-Lewis to win. "I'm going to vote for the Greenwich guy," Mr. Movie said. (DDL even thanked Greenwich in his BAFTA acceptance speech. Will he do it again?)

Everyone else thinks he's going to win too. He carried "There Will Be Blood" from start to finish. You couldn't take your eyes off of him. 

There's Helen Mirren in her fabulous red dress. It's the sort of thing I would wear, if I were an Oscar winner. But alas, I'll sit here in my PJs instead. 

There's DDL (sorry. it's late and his name is long.)! 

Johnny Depp was also very good in "Sweeney Todd." Who knew he could sing? And of course, there's our man George, but I think he knows he's not going to win.

As expected, DDL wins, but he just gave George a handshake and a kiss. Lucky DDL, for both the win, and being able to kiss George Clooney. It's got to be said that you have to be incredibly secure in your masculinity to wear TWO hoop earrings. Or be a pirate.

I should also say that DDL grew up in a house about 400 meters away from MarathonMum HQ. 

4:19 a.m.

On to Best Original Screenplay.

Mr Movie tipped "Ratatouille" to win. Again, it's one of the few Oscar nominees he's seen.

Oh. The stripper wins it! (Diablo Cody-- no word on whether that's her real name or her stripper name.) Kudos to her, though, because she's the first person tonight to thank and acknowledge her fellow nominees. She just snatched that winning envelope from Harrison Ford's hands and practically ran off the page. I think it's because she didn't want to make a spectacle of herself.

4:11 a.m.

Tom Hanks just walked out, though this year it appeared that he did not walk out swearing at someone or something, like he did in 2006.

This is cool. They're letting some U.S. military people introduce the nominees for Best Documentary Short Subject, as well as name the winner.

Mr. Movie had picked "Sari's Mother", But "Freeheld" actually won.

Gotta give props to the makers of "Freeheld" who seem to be working moms. Hooray for them! It's a 38-minute movie. I doubt LoveFilm is going to have it to borrow. We once met a nominee for this category in Chicago. He had been nominated for a film about making paper. Seriously.

Long-form documentary now. Mr. Movie picked "War/Dance" because he loved the dancing. Actually, no he's never seen it, and never have I. "Taxi to the Dark Side" wins. Mr. Movie is now 6-14.

4:07 a.m.

Amy Adams put her boring green dress back on, but the mystery remains unsolved: Did they make her dance in that last Enchanted song?

On to Original Score, which goes to "Atonement," which will probably be its only win of the night. Mr. Movie had picked "Ratatouille."

Here's a question: Can we wrap this up within the hour? Only time will tell.

4:02 a.m.

Oh! Time for the "I See Dead People" portion of the evening, introduced by Hilary Swank. Maybe that's why she's wearing black. I'm putting money on Heath Ledger being last. Let's see.

I forgot/didn't know that Jack Valenti died this year. I'm surprised they didn't put him last. Or Igmar Berman, for that matter. It'll be Heath for sure then.

And I was right again. It was poor Heath.

3:52 a.m.

Mr. Movie is now 5-11 on the night.

They just brought out the other winner for Best Song. That's got to be unprecedented. 

Now on to Best Cineamatography. Roger Deakins, who was nominated twice for "The Assassination of Jessee James" and "No Country for Old Men" swore in a recent interview that he wasn't going to win, but he knew who would. Let's see.

Maybe he was. It went to "There Will Be Blood," which was Mr. Movie's choice, so he's now 6-11 on the night.

3:49 a.m.

John Travolta is presenting Best Song. I just spent the better part of the last five minutes trying to determine (a) how many categories have been announced and (b) if they really made Amy Adams dance through "So Close." 

"Once" just stole Best Song from the three from "Enchanted." Well done to them.

3:42 a.m.

Penelope Cruz is going to present, and I'm willing to bet it's for Best Foreign Language Film. Wow. Right again.

Mr. Movie picked "The Counterfeiters" from Austria to win this one, but only because he saw a poster for it in the Tube the other day.

Whoo-Hoo! Mr Movie is right!! He's up to 5-12 (I think).

3:31 a.m.

Nicole Kidman is here. My god, are those DIAMONDS? If so, she must have several extra security men tonight. I didn't get a good look at the baby bumb, and it's hard to see because of the microphone. It has to be said, though, she just doesn't know when to stop with the plastic surgery. Her face just doesn't look real.

This is Honorary Oscar time. Snooze. 

3:28 a.m.

Renee Zellwegger (spelling. I know, I know.) is here to announce "Best Editing," for which Mr. Movie picked "Into the Wild."

"The Bourne Ultimatum" wins again. It might walk away with the most awards for the night. At this point, it's got three to "No Country for Old Men" two. 

3:24 a.m.

By my count, we know the results of 11 categories, and we still have 13 categories to announce, along with the requisite "I See Dead People" portion of the evening. I think we're going to beat the 5:17 a.m. watershed, but I sincerely hope not.

Why in God's name do they feel it necessary to show all of the past Best Picture winners? Isn't that what IMDB is for?

3:16 a.m.

How you can tell the writers have been on strike:

Jon Stewart opened up by playing Wii tennis with some young girl (didn't catch who she is). Seriously? Couldn't you just introduce Colin Farrell?

Another song nominee, this one from "Once," which I haven't seen. Happy to report that I have been able to resist the siren song of both (a) coffee and (b) chocolate chip cookies up until now.

Also, since we're sitting through the song, you might be wondering what your Oscar hostess is wearing. Well, it's beautiful-- a custom made Vera Wang gown in blue. Gorgeous.

Oh wait. That was in my fabulous parallel life. I am in fact wearing oh-so-fabulous jimjams from our friends at Nick and Nora, topped off with a sweatshirt from the boys at Pine Street Carpenters. Lets give it up for the Dolan brothers!

3:10 a.m.

I find myself studying Forest Whitaker's eyes to see if they're-- there's no other way to put this-- wonky. Having watched "The Last King of Scotland" again this weekend, I didn't know if the eye thing was for his performance of Idi Amin, or if it's something else. Seems like it was for the role.

Unusually Mr. Movie picked Ellen Page to win this category.

But Marion Coiltiard wins it! And she gives Forest a big hug. She seems so genuinely happy, you have to be happy for her. Unless you're Julie Christie.

This also means that Cate Blanchett got two nominations and walked away with nothing. Bummer for her. She enthusiastically clapped for Marion, though, so maybe she didn't care.

Oh no! Claudia Winkleman said we're only at the half-way point! How can that be!!

2:58 a.m.

It seems to me this ceremony is much zippier than last year, so I went back and checked, and indeed, it seems as though we've done several more awards so far. 

Now we're on Best Sound Editing. Mr. Movie picked "The Bourne Ultimatum" (though I'm surprised he didn't pick "Transformers."

Hooray for Mr. Movie! He got this one right! We're up to 4-5 in his picks. Oh no! Something is going wrong with the sound while they present the sound awards. Oh, the irony.

Now we're on to Best Sound Mixing. Mr. Movie picked "Transformers," which I think includes Kevin O'Connell, who has been nominated 19 times and has never won. When pressed if he thought "Transformers" really could be an Oscar Winning movie, he confidently said, "Yes."

Could it be? Could "Transformers" be an Oscar-winning movie? Alas, no. This one goes to "The Bourne Ultimatum" too. 

Speaking of which, "The Bourne Ultimatum" means I can never walk through Waterloo Station without looking around for trained assassins in the moving advertisements.

Mr. Movie is now 4-6 in his picks. We've got 14 categories to go, but we've got a Big One now: Best Actress.

2:51 a.m.

Next song performance, and now I have an answer: Amy Adams ISN'T going to have to sing all the songs from "Enchanted". Kirstin Chenowith is singing "How Does She Know."

She's got musical experience, soshe can walk through this big song-and-dance routine, though I am quite worried about the supportive string that's keeping her dress on. If it were to snap, that would be something for future clip retrospectives! Sadly, the dress and the string stay in place.

2:41 a.m.

Time for the Technical Awards Summary. I think I now know who has to sit in the upper decks of the Oscars. It must be the Technical Awards Winners.

We really are getting through this fast. We're on Best Adapted Screenplay. Mr. Movie picked "The Diving Bell and the Butterfly."

Bummer. Wrong again. It went to the Coens for "No country for Old Men."

Poor Josh Brolin tried to give a hug to the second Coen, but he kind of got rebuffed.

I might have to stop keeping Mr. Movie's tally. He's lagging far behind.

Now some joker who I don't know-- probably the president of the Academy-- is jabbering on about something.

2:35 a.m.

It's Best Supporting Actress clip time, and there she is: Maureen Stapleton! (though not me. The other one.) Hooray!!

Time for the Best Supporting Actress award. Mr. Movie boldly picked Amy Ryan in "Gone Baby Gone." 

Tilda Swinton looks genuinely surprised, which is sweet, but her dress is still atrocious. She thanked her agent, which I hate, but she just did a funny joke about George Clooney wearing his Bat Suit under his normal clothes.

Mr. Movie is now 3-6 for the night. He was doing so well! Now, not so much.

2:32 a.m.

Barry the Bee, from "The Bee Movie" is presenting, "Best Animated Short Film." Mr. Movie picked, "Even Pigeons Go To Heaven," (only because he likes the Mo Willems Pigeon books) but it went to "Peter and the Wolf" instead.

Mr. Movie is now 3-5 for the night.