Quick! Hurry and look

Before I come to my senses and take these pictures down.

I was at Lala's yesterday looking for different pictures when I came across this one:

I am about 7 months pregnant with Beau and I am running on my Dad's treadmill in my parent's creepy basement. I remember when my sister took this picture.It was a hot day and I was resigned to the dungeon. Normally I ran outside with Carmella in the jogger. Oh the double takes and looks I got. Anyway, it is a hideous picture--as are all pictures of me preggers but it is still funny. Here is one of the belly and not running or sweaty. Also around 7 months.
From da side:
I know, I am shameless. And God. I am so glad not to be pregnant. But congratulations to my good friend Stacie who is! Best wishes and I hope #3 is an easy one for you!

The Untraining Log

I feel so wayward without a marathon to train for. It is the only race I have ever really trained for. Running 35 miles a week has always kept me in shape for half marathons and any shorter distances. Sigh, I guess I am a little sad. The only races I have slated is a 5K and the Peachtree in July. I am planning on trying to get in a few other 10ks but no long races until October.

I guess though that I am pretending to be training because those long runs? They are sneaking their way back into my week. Here is my untraining efforts this week:

Sunday: Nothing. I was so sick on Saturday--fever, aches, chills etc and so I thought I should take another day off. I did finish last week out at 39 mpw, 30 minutes cross training and 3 days of weights. So not bad.

Monday: 10 easy. Didn't pay attention to pace.

Tuesday: 10 easy again and no attention to pace. Both days felt great. Love the 10 mile run.

Wednesday: 6 easy in the morning--no attention to pace. 30 minutes cross train and 15 minutes weights in the evening.

Thursday: 17 miles (really it was longer but I turned off Garmin and slowed the pace once it hit 17) at an 8:32 pace. It was hot today but the run felt pretty good.

I plan to do a speed work out on the treadmill on Saturday for 7 miles. Not sure about tomorrow: either an easy 5K or 4 mile run or maybe I'll go crazy and get in the pool and see what I can do. . .

Good luck Bruce and Angie in your half marathon.

Poo-tee-weet?

And so it goes. Too many times over. And me, we--life?-- just goes on. And on?

Really, I just don't know why this is so hard for me to understand, but it is. I'm not getting it.

Last week we lost one of my favorite novelists, Kurt Vonnegut Jr. Which is why the repetitive quote "so it goes" kept running through my mind on Monday while I flipped the remote back and forth between watching Cheruiyot and Grigoryeva triumphantly press the finish line tape and the VA Tech tragedy unfold on Fox News. I honestly can't say if the tears I wiped from my face were from watching the marathoners triumph over adversity or from the horror of the VA Tech tragedy. I do know that I don't even cry when I am the one finishing a marathon.

I know that those touched intimately by this tragedy feel like the world has stopped spinning--and for them it has. They are standing in a suffocating fog while just outside of the thick it is all going madly on-- just as it always has and will?

And even though I sit on the other side of that fog I have spent the past few days reaching into it and thinking of those enveloped by it. Yesterday as I went on about my dailies I was boggled at how much it really does just go on. Yeah, maybe I am an idiot-- the slow one-- but it does truly baffle and astound me how things just go on for some while everything is frozen for others. Which, I guess, falls right in line with what my Dad has always told me: "That life isn't fair." And that too has perplexed me since I was 4 years old. And like Beau of late annoyingly says, I too have asked my entire life Why? why?why! why! why.why.why. . . You'd think--at 35-- I would have reconciled that too by now, but no, I still can't quite put my finger on it either.

Really, these are ideas that I just vaguely sort of get. It hurts my head too much if I try and think them all down. I don't know how he did it but I am so thankful to Vonnegut for hashing it all out and putting it in print and making a go of explaining it. That has helped me some and let me try to put it all in its place.

So it goes? Sigh, deep breath, exhale. Wow. Okay. So it goes, he says and yesterday as I went on running, finishing up some work for Ryan, rushing off the get the boys from school, meeting with Beau's speech teacher to discuss next year's therapy plan and watching my sister try on and then buy her wedding gown I was again and again reminded of how gifted my life is right now and how unfair it is for those mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, wives and husbands to have all lost something so irreplaceable. How inexplicably lucky I am to be on this side of the fog and how frighten I am to know that the edge of that fog is such a perilously thin and permeable layer. My safety net is as thick as a molecule.

On and on and on, wildly it goes.

May those that have lost somehow find some comfort in each other. My heart, prayers and thoughts are with you.

Easter Pictures

A week late . . .

Beau and Carmella on the steps after church. Very cold and very bright outside.
All of us who did the Easter shuffle except Poppy who took the picture.

Taco Mac after church for another type of praying. I insisted the kids wear their art aprons over their church clothes so they wouldn't get them dirty. Beau, who unfortunately I do not have a photo of, had also changed from his bucks to his cowboy boots so he was quite a sight in his pink dress shirt and orange HomeDepot apron and boots. As always he garnered more than his share of attention. The other 2, Carmella and Pat sat still long enough I could get their picture.

Silliness at Bubbles house.




The hunt is ON!




Checking the loot


Max and Carly--BFF

The boys check out Lois's new Benz--as if any of them have a clue what they are looking at.

Kid's table:



Livi's argument as to why she gets to sit next to Carmella.
Beau's counter argument:
And who won:
Big kid's table:



And finally, the ongoing quest to get a picture of all 5 kids looking the same way . ..




Well maybe next time. Happy Easter!

Penis envy

Friday night dinner conversation:


Beau: I want my penis to be taller than Daddy's.

Me: Eat your vegetables.

Returning to the hills

Since ING I've been hitting the treadmill a lot and then last week-- since I was in Sea Pines-- my runs were also flat. Pretty much I have been avoiding hills and long runs.

I have been doing lots of 5k, 10k and 7 mile runs. And lots of speed work. I have run twice my regular 6 miles course from my house. At first I couldn't figure out why it felt so hard and then I remembered, oh yeah, the hills.

So this week:
Monday: 6 miles outside in the morning and then did a 5k in 21:40 on the treadmill in the evening. Weights--legs and arms.
Tuesday: 6 on the treadmill in 42 minutes flat and then walked out the the last .2 to finish in 45 minutes.
Wednesday: Treadmill again. This time 4 miles in 28:30. Weights--just upper body.

So this morning my legs were all kinds of sore from 3 straight days of "speed work" but the day was perfect-- although a bit windy. So I decided to try to do 15 miles. It ended up being 16 and it was hard but I still finished in 2 hours and 19 minutes for an 8:43 pace. Not great but I am still happy with it.

So I feel like I am all recovered. Anyone else already dive back into the long runs?

And PS. I am sooooo glad to not being doing Boston this year. The weather sounds horrible--70% chance of rain, windy and a high of 44 degrees? No thank you--been there done that.

Hey! Atlanta runners! Do this 5K

I signed up yesterday to do the BPRC's Run/Walk 5k. Here are the details and an application. First 1000 runners to sign up get a Nike technical shirt as their race swag. I was number 558 so you still have time.

I'm excited. The only other time I have done a 5k was this one in NYC. Carmella was 11 weeks old and I was nursing and still had 20lbs of baby weight to lose and had only been back running for 2 months. I think I probably ran it in just under 30 minutes. Pretty certain I'll do better than that on May 5th.

I encourage all my running friends (and those that just like to walk) to come out and run with me and support your local running community and charity (all proceeds benefit the Georgia Chapter of TIT ).

Should be fun . . .

Spring Break 2007 --The Pines

Sigh, spring break is just not what it use to be. I guess I just need to forget those days before I had kids and use to go to the beach with my friends because it is never going to be like that again. But if I try I can find some spring break traditions that even with kids do continue. It is all about looking at the world a little differently, that's all.

So yeah, the kids and I went to Hilton Head Island for spring break. We stayed in The Pines. No, MTV wasn't there and PC Beach it was not (okay, I am thankful for that) and no there was no Club La Vela or wet t-shirt contest or keg stands but somethings do remain spring break staples even if you have kids. Like . . .

Getting a tattoo.

Sure it was press on but I press really hard so it kinda hurts. At one of the restaurants a woman asked me about mine. I just had TNMT and she said at first she thought it was real. Ninja turtles are totally tough.

Drinking and fighting.


Then there was the vomiting--another staple from my high school and college spring breaks. Okay so it was from a stomach bug not from drinking too much. But Beau, like any good ole drunken frat boy does, vomited in his bed and then didn't bother to wake up and just slept in it and then was particularly belligerent when I found said vomit and forced him into the shower.

Then there was the public nudity and lewdness.Again, Beau. He said Mommy, I have to pee. Okay honey go over behind the dune and be discreet. Apparently, unlike his sister, Beau missed out on the gene of discretion and modesty.
And that brings me to the gene of good sense-which Beau is also missing. I can already tell that when he is older and goes on spring break with his friends he will be the "Hey, guys watch this!" one of the group.

We had awesome weather while we were at the beach-- 85 degrees and sunny almost everyday. But it was breezy and the water was still very, very cold. Beau however did not care. The house we rented also had a pool. First day we were there Beau, unlike his sister who cautiously eased into the pool and tested out the water, just jumped right in. He bobbed up and I could tell by the "Oh Shit" look on his face that he realized that maybe he didn't know how to swim. He does know how to swim as he started swimming pretty well last summer but it has been 9 whole months since he has tested out those skills. He looked at me and I yelled "SWIM!" And he put his face down in the water and swam to the steps. After that he was a bit more cautious in the pool but for some reason not in the ocean.

So Beau is 3 right? He seems not to get that he is not the best swimmer in the world. Nonetheless everyday he tried to wade out in the ocean in water way over his head. This meant that I divided my time in the freezing ass water and hauling a screaming Beau out of the water across the beach to our chairs so that we could warm our hypothermic asses up.

I really love that no matter where we go or what we do Beau is familiar to every stranger. Everyone knows his name. People would walk by and say "Hi Beau!' And Beau would smile and say hi and then happily explain that "I know that guy!" Uhm no, no you don't.

And not to be out done by Beau's theatrics Carmella did some tricks too. Though certainly less life threatening than Beau's and thankfully, certainly less embarrassing for me.

Unlike Beau Carmella did have the good sense to stay out of the water.

She tried it out and decided that is was way too cold and spent everyday building sandcastles. She wisely delegated Beau water boy.
Only problem was that he would get distracted--I guess maybe he heard the call of the sea--and would desert the bucket and his mission and wade out. This is where I got lots of speed work in sprinting the 25 yards to the ocean from my chair to rescue him.

See, Ryan couldn't join us on our spring break as he is super busy at work and just couldn't take the time off. And we --I mean me-- sorely missed him. Going to the beach with young children without the aid of your spouse is exhausting. You are on call 24/7 without a moments respite. And even though the kids and I went to Hilton Head with my parents, sister and brother and his wife and my nephew Duncan I didn't have the tons of help that you think I would. I don't know what happened to my parents when they crossed over into South Carolina but you'd think they were from Michigan--not born and raised in South Georgia-- or from some place where the only time you might see an alligator is in a zoo. They spent the whole trip playing crocodile hunter. The only way we could even get Lala out of bed before 10am was to tell her that Allen, the alligator that lived in the lagoon behind our house, was out.


So to deal with the added stress of being a newly single parent for the week I compensated by drinking lots of Corona light and wine. Somethings are holy spring break traditions that you just don't mess with. Sure, drinking a lot while caring for 2 young children doesn't make it any easier but it sure makes you feel better about it and you don't notice so much the freezing ass water.

My parents were not completely unhelpful. They did watch the kids in the morning so I could run for an hour. Running on the shady flat bike trails is pretty awesome. After all those hills at ING I felt like I was flying. I was actually passing people on their bikes. Too bad Garmin wasn't working (too many trees) but I felt like I was doing 7-7:30 miles on every run.


Spring break wasn't exactly a break for me but it was fun and it was nice to play at the beach for a week. I mean you wouldn't have to twist my arm to go back.

Resurrection

I.
We are folding boxes.
Empty, white chambers,
spiraling like steeples.
It is so simple,
says Jezebel,
holding an unfolded box in her hand.
Just close your eyes and ask your heart,
she says,
folding another box.

II.
I close my eyes
and dream your lips on my face
rounded in a sighing wet O.
You step out of me--
beguiled by bright fruit
in painted hands.
I ask,
how can you leave
my heart a closed dark place?
It is so simple, you say.

III.
Last night Judas came home
in your place. He sat next to me
at our table. He kissed me,
turning and spilling more than wine.
Just forget the heart, he said.
It is so simple,
to let things in and out,
come and go.

IV.
I close my eyes and imagine Him
stepping down from his cross,
pulling open my chest with split hands
and climbing inside of me
to let bright light shine
from my stigmata-ed heart.
It is that simple.

Today we went to church and the minister called today "Resurrection Day" and I thought of this poem I wrote many years ago. Funny, but to me it means different things now than when I wrote it.

I have pictures from my beach trip, from my Easter. I will post later. Last week's running was dismal-- only 4 days of running and about 25 miles. Oh well, on to next week. Hope everyone had a nice weekend.

PS. April is poetry month.

Mommy, smell my breath . . .

Growing up I use to call my sister a yucky dog girl because she would let our husky Bob lick her face. It totally disgusted me.

Lately, Beau's newest charming boy thing to do has been coming up to me and asking me to smell his breath. He does this after he brushes his teeth, after he eats Cheetos, after a lollipop, and various other tasty treats.

The past few days the new one he has said, after I stick my nose way too close to his mouth, is that Lola kissed him. I've sort of ignored him and not thought too much about it. I just figured that Lola licked his face and he thought I could smell her puppy-quickly-becoming-dog-breath on his face.

Uhm, no.

Apparently Beau and Lola are closer than I ever imagined.

And with that I leave you. The kids and I are off to the beach for a few days. Ryan, a little too happily, is staying behind. I'm not sure exactly who it is that is getting the vacation but my suspicions say it is not me. . .

PS. Regarding recover-ING: I got in 50 mpw of running (one of those runs was a 7 mile run in 53 minutes!) and 2 35 minute sessions on the elliptical and 3 days of upper body weights---I do have to put on a bikini next week you know so the abuse was necessary but tomorrow is a well deserved day off.

On perpetuating this mortal coil

Not shuffling off, mind you.

See me rolling my eyes at Hamlet? Whining, melancholy, tragic hero that he is. He knows nothing of Denmark or what is rotten in it.

And to be or not to be is not the damn question when you are a parent. More accurately it is to sleep? Ah, perchance to dream . . .

And the answer?

Not fucking likely ever again.

And yes this post should scare the bejesus out of any would be, or current, yet hopeful, parents of infants that sleep will once again play a role in your life. Well, it might if you are the husband but then again you probably won't be getting laid because your wife will hate you so much for snoring blissfully beside her while she does not sleep. So yeah, a good night rest is not really in your future either.

Hold on. Crap, I just burnt Carmella's toast. Good news is the smoke detector works!

Sorry, had to make more toast as she refused hockey puck toast. Gotta blog here and there while I half ass parent and do housewifely things you know. So anyway, the subject of parental sleep deprivation? Just like those black toes are a runner's badge of honor so is the ability to function on no sleep is a parent's.

Right after I had Carmella I got all these wonderful, well-meaning cards that said cleverly funny things like: Don't worry you'll sleep again . . . someday! Not! or you'll get use to never sleeping. . .

At the time I was completely puzzled over these statements of sleeplessness because I was getting more sleep than when I had when I was pregnant. I really felt well rested, I mean for a new mother. I was getting at least 3 straight hours of sleep not the 30 minutes I had been getting because I had to pee that often when I was pregnant.

And while Carmella was always a terrible napper she always slept great at night. So I totally missed out on putting that "sleep when the baby sleeps" advice in practice during the day. Beau was an even better sleeper. It was like he invented sleeping and eating he did those things so marvelously well. But I missed out the napping in the day with him too since I still had Carmella who most definitely was not taking any naps now that she was 2.

All that by no means is to say that either of my kids were one of those mythological babies who slept through the night right from birth; but they did sleep for 3 hours and then by a month old were going for 6 straight hours at night. And then by the time they were 3 months old they went 8 hours. By 6 months old they both slept for 12 straight blissful hours at night. Sure there were the occasional bumps in the road of sleepless nights here and there from teething, night terrors or sickness but by and large I have found out that we are the exception at having kids who consistently sleep well through the night. I'm not kidding I have friends with 6 year olds who apparently do not regularly sleep through the night.

Before you think that for one second I am bragging let me quickly get to my point. You see, I don't sleep through the night so it totally doesn't matter that my kids do. So for all my being blessed with kids who go to bed and sleep at night without issue still hasn't allowed me to get a good night's rest. Why? Because I hear everything. Being a parent has turned me into the lightest sleeper ever. See, now I finally get what they were saying in those wonderful, well-meaning cards. And here is yet again another instance of my smugness coming to bite me in the ass and humble me. Please, take my advice, anytime you find yourself in the middle of smug moment as a parent close your eyes as hard as you can and wish it away because if you don't you will be getting yours in spades. Parental karma. It is real and it will happen. Be humble, be very very humble.

So back to my point, if my kids get up in the middle night I know it before they do. Every cough, sniffle, turn in bed-- I hear. Heck I even wake up when Lola stirs and wait, all tense, to see if she is going to whine to go out. Ryan never hears anything-- even on the rare occasions when the kids come in our room. Even last night he didn't wake from Carmella and I's lengthy conversation about ear bugs at 2 in the morning.

I woke when I heard her whine. Then I heard her feet hit the floor and come padding in my room. Then she is standing by my bed. Whenever she comes in our room in the middle of the night she never says anything. She just stands there and waits for me to say something. (the kids never go to Ryan's side of the bed.) Even though I am trying really hard to fake asleep she seems to know that I am not asleep and is waiting for me to say something. So I do:

Me: What's wrong Carmella?

Carmella: I had a bad dream.

Me: About what?

And here I think she says a scary chicken.

Me: A scary chicken? What did it do?

And here I think she says no, not a chicken, a donkey.

Me: Okay, a scary donkey. What happened?

Carmella: No not a donkey! An ear bug.

Me: Oh. Well what happened?

Carmella: Are they real?

Me: What? Ear bugs? No absolutely not! Totally made up.

Carmella: I saw an ear bug in my book at school. Here I remember that they are learning about insects. Recalling earlier in the week Carmella's princess ant. Fucking kindergarten teaching them shit. Making them all smart so I can't just lie and make stuff up anymore. I am so screwed.

Me: Right, those ear bugs. Well they are nothing to worry about go back to bed.

Carmella: But can it happen?

Me:What?

Carmella: Can they get in your ears?

Me: Only if you live in Africa. Never go to Africa and you will be fine.Surely they haven't learned about Africa yet and I can still use this one.

Carmella: Oh, but not here in the United States? Crap she knows this is geographically related.

Me (worried now that this is going to take another turn): Right, not in the United States and definitely not in Georgia. Now go to bed and you are not allowed to get up until the sun is up in your room and mine. Remember, we sleep until the sun is up on Saturdays.

And she shuffles back into her room. And Ryan snores on beside me.


Last week it was Beau that woke me. Beau talks in his sleep so he pretty much wakes me up every night. But at this point I ignore the screaming demands for "Mama! I want a peanut butter sandwich! or " I want my Batman shirt now!". I figure if he is up and it is important he will come in my room.

So the other night when I heard him scream out "I want to kiss you!" I assumed he was talking in his sleep again. But his demand to kiss me persisted and I told him to come give me a kiss. And he said "Oh, okay." I was happy that the idea of getting out bed hadn't occurred to him and he waited for permission.

He padded into our room dragging Blue (his blanket--he is the quintessential Linus) and kissed my leg and went back to his room.

Easy enough, I thought.

Then I heard him: "Aw! Damn it, my light is out. Mama! My light is out!"

Me: So turn it on.

I hear him trying to turn on his light. And then "Aw! Damn it! It is broken!"

Me (determined not to get out of bed because if I get up and walk around there is no hope of going back to sleep.): Sleep without it. Dark is good. Makes you taller.

Beau(starting to whine): I'm scared. It is scary. I want my light.

Me: Just go to sleep. It is all fine. Don't you want to be tall?

Beau: Light! Light! Light!

And then the snoring lump beside me moves and says, "Oh for Christ's sakes!"
And stomps down the hall to Beau's room and turns on his light.

And me? I am smiling as I settle to go back to sleep. I am proud that Beau? When he said "damn it"? Got the d in the first syllable every time. But in my heart I was most thrilled that Ryan? Finally got woken from his peaceful slumber.

Ay! Now, there's the rub.