Runner's Amnesia

I have to admit... since I started training for my half marathon over a month ago it's been difficult to recall why I ever enjoyed running. I think it's been a culmination of extra baby weight, pushing a crying baby in a jogger, bouncy parts of my chest that never used to bounce like that before (gotta love lactation!) and just a general lack of motivation. I have found myself searching for good reasons not to run. But tenacity is a bugger and I've been cursed blessed with large doses of it. So I hit the pavement; Loathing every. single. step.

Until today.

Today the true runner in me resurfaced. The runner that felt light on her feet. The runner that felt strong, almost warrior-like. The runner that could seperate her legs, lungs, and mind into three distinct areas and only focus on the latter. I'm not sure if it was the number on the scale or the husband so willing to offer her some baby-less time to herself that brought her out of her Rip Van Winkle dreamland but she's awake! I feel her taking over and I love it. Together we ran 6.04 miles in less than an hour. Something totally unattainable on my own.

Today there was no crying baby. No jogger to push. It was just us and my iPod. 57min48sec of running bliss. "Running bliss". Not an oxymoron to me any more.

Today I fell in love with running again. For all of the reasons I loved it before. The true runner in me is back. She's here for good. And I welcome her.

Spring Break 2010: Pismo Beach

Over Spring Break we tried something new. We camped at Pismo Beach. This is why we want to go back EVERY year (and why YOU should go if you've never been)...

The Bike Rides

The Walk Through The Dunes To The Beach

The Beach

Friends

Quality Family Time

Our Awesome Campsite

Cruisin' Through Pismo In The Scout

The Pool At Our Friends' Hotel

The 4-Wheeling

The Scouts (and the Landcruiser)

Driving On The Beach

The load of an 11 year old

"Ah, the responsibilities of an 11 year old.... I'm still getting used to it." (A real quote from my daughter 3 short weeks after turning 11.)

Responsibility #1: Decision Making
Having to decide between going to Disneyland on the actual day of your birthday or staying home to make sure your Science Fair Project gets entered in the county judging. Decisions, decisions. You can imagine what a toughy this one was....

Responsibility #2: Event Planning
Having to come up with the perfect party idea for all of your 10 & 11 year old friends. It had to be something fun. It had to be girls only. It HAD to be a sleepover. It had to encompass all that turning 11 is about. It's a slow exit from little girlhood and a long wait until you're finally an official teenager. So it had to be perfect. And what could be more perfect than makeovers, pampering, dance contests, and giggles until 4 o'clock in the morning?

Responsibility #3: Delegation
Having to choose who would be the makeover specialists for the evening. Anna & Angela did a great job. The party would not have been a success if it weren't for these two adorable gals.

Responsibility #4: Learning Patience as a Virtue
Especially when you can't wait to see the end result.

Responsibility #5: The Balancing Act
Learning to balance your inner Diva with your fun-loving, goofy side. (Not to mention balancing on your mom's high heels.)

Responsibility #5: People Pleasing
It's important to arrange things so that everyone is comfortable and noone feels left out.

Yes. The responsibilities of an 11 year old are more weighty than one might think. Good thing she's got a whole year to get used to it.

Preschool Logic

When Mercedes was a preschooler she was trying to explain to me that her ankle hurt. Not knowing that the word "ankle" actually existed, she called it her "foot-wrist". Perfectly Logical.

Once on a family bikeride in Montery Beau pedaled as fast as he could for as long as he could. After weaving in and out of joggers, rollerbladers, and the ocassional fringe-topped surrey he decided to stop for a breather. "Wow", he said, "My heart sure is blinking!" Perfectly Logical.

Tonight Reef is courageously dealing with vomitting and diarrhea, two ailments which are unfortunately occurring at the exact same time. I've given him 3 baths in less than 1 hour. He's going through PJ's and Pull-Ups faster than the Octomom goes through Enfamil. He walked into the office and said, "Mom, we need to change my Pull-Up again. I accidentially pooped my pants." "Uh-oh. What happened? Did you throw up again?" "No. It's just this slobber poo. It keeps on leaking out." Slobber Poo. I don't know what can be more logical than that.

Stardate 63676.1 (Yes, I googled that)

In 11 days Mercedes will celebrate her 11th birthday. My water broke 2 days after her due date. (The longest 2 days ever!!) I was stashed away in a make-shift closet room that just fit a bed, an IV, and a chair. They could not give me the pitocin yet to get things going because this closet room did not have the proper monitors to watch how me and baby girl were doing. I was in there for almost 2 hours. The good nurses there at Good Samaritan Hospital apologized and informed me that it was a full moon that night and there always seemed to be more babies born during full moons. This was the topic for Mercedes' 5th Grade Science Fair project.
We called 6 hospitals but only 3 were willing to be included in the nightly phone calls. We asked 3 labor & delivery nurses their opinions on the matter and ALL 3 of them felt that the moon definitely makes a difference. They even look up at the moon when working night shifts as an indicator of how their shift will go. Interesting. (Note: The moon looks completely full for several days before and several days after a true full moon.)
Mercedes' hypothesis was "More Babies Are Born On a Full Moon". In the end, the hypothesis was wrong. The moon didn't seem to affect anything. More babies were actually born 6 days later. However, we didn't omit any scheduled inductions or C-Sections so who knows? The outcome might have been different if we had thought about that beforehand.
I, for one, would like to think that the reason for my being stuck in that room anxiously awaiting the violence & beauty of childbirth was because of something cool like it being a full moon.
After 2 gluesticks, 5 styrofoam balls, 56 tiny plastic baby bottles, and lots of black, white, pink and blue cardstock a 1st Place Ribbon winner was born. Now it's off to the County Science Fair to see what will happen next.
Good luck, Baby Girl and good job!! Full moon or not, I thank my lucky stars everyday that I have you.

Going green never felt so bad...

Leprechaun (movie, 1992)

"An Irish fairy escapes from a crate and goes on a gory quest for his 100 stolen gold coins."

Leprechaun; Back 2 Tha Hood (movie, 2003)

"A young woman and her friends incur the wrath of an evil leprechaun who will stop at nothing to protect his gold."

Leprechaun... a new 4 letter word (real life, present day)

"A Stay-at-home-mom colors a gallon of milk, turns pictures upside down, opens all kitchen cupboards and drawers, stacks couch pillows, turns chairs facing outward, and even turns the toilet water green all in an attempt to be fun & festive but unwittingly scars her 4 year old son for life when he suddenly becomes frightened of every little sound and goes ballistic at the very mention of the word, "leprechaun". The family's happiness is at stake when the mother threatens severe consequences if the "L" word is uttered one more time in the presence of the 4 year old boy. A 7 year old brother's fun comes to an abrupt end when the truth has to be unveiled about leprechauns not being real and mom reveals herself as the true culprit of the mornings events in order for 4 year old son to calm down and finally go to bed."

Somebody please remind me why we celebrate this holiday......

Daddy/Daughter Dance

Realizing that you're going to be Daddy's only little girl has it's advantages. Take going to the Daddy/Daughter dance, for instance. In the past you've gone to these dances and have been content to wear a Sunday dress while Daddy wears nice slacks and a shirt & tie. But knowing that this is your last Daddy/Daughter dance at your elementary school before moving on to junior high and knowing that your Daddy won't have any other daughters to take to one of these dances AND knowing that you don't have to contend with any other sisters for room on Daddy's pinky finger... you can request anything you want.


And get it.


This is the angle Mercedes worked this year. Dinner before the dance would be nice but wearing formal attire to the very last Daddy/Daughter Dance? Perfection. Top it off by having a sleepover with some friends your mom and dad have been praying for (another post) and you've got a night to remember.

I love where I live!!

If you ask me, California is the best place to live. Yes, it is by nature a liberal state but even as conservative as I am I still love it. Yes, I was born in Utah and lived there until I was 13 but I've now spent the last 19 years here and can't imagine being anywhere else. Where I live I am only 30 minutes from the nearest beach. I can drive to the snow for a day and then drive back out of it. There are beautiful lakes polka-dotted throughout the state. We've got palm trees and sun and sea breeze and Disneyland and year round flip-flops!! We don't have 4 distinct seasons here, and I do miss the fall, but when other parts of the nation are dealing with blizzards, frozen pipes and digging themselves out of their driveways I am driving down the road enjoying the beautiful green hills that the seesaw of rain and sun has left growing here. True, it's short lived as the hot sun begins around the end of March (don't be hatin') and things begin to dry up and turn brown but that's when you head to the coast and enjoy the ocean air and beauty that abounds at the western edge of our nation.

This weekend I was reminded again of my love for where I live. One day I was in Monterey on a whale-watching field trip and the next day I was enjoying the city of San Francisco while taking our family to watch Supercross. Both days offered a break from the recent rain, which I was grateful for, because it allowed my children some experiences that I know they will remember for a long time to come.

I took Reef along to Monterey so I wouldn't have to pawn him off on friends or family. I wasn't going on the boat anyway... not sure how my normally strong belly would handle the movement (and smells) now that there's a baby on board. I rode on the boat last year, anyway. I just followed Reef around wherever he wanted to go. We played in the Pirate Store for a bit then walked around and watched the seals and birds. We ate gummy bears and watched taffy being pulled. We enjoyed samples of fresh Clam Chowder from all of the wharf restaurants. Then we reserved an oceanside table for lunch.

The 5th graders were not disappointed. They saw whales and even some dolphins.

The next day we were off to the races. This year we decided to get Pit Passes and try to meet the pros.

As far as my kids were concerned there was only one guy worthy enough for us me to wait in line for. Ryan Dungey. Not only did he sign the number plates that we brought him but he asked each of my kids' their name and autographed a poster for each of them as well. They were starstruck for sure.

Especially Reef. He pretends to be Dungey when he's out riding his bike. He was not going to let Dungey get away with not remembering him or how to spell his name. Here he is making sure he gets it right. "It's R-E-E-F".

Brandon and I were happy to meet a "veteran" of the sport, Jeff Emig. He retired in 2000 and my kids only really know him as one of the SuperCross announcers they see on TV. But fame is fame to them and they were happy to pose for a picture with him anyway. He was just walking around in the Pits and was very approachable and friendly.

Another favorite rider of theirs is Chad Reed. He broke a bone in his hand racing 2 weeks ago so he was recuperating but his team was there anyway and my kids got to sit on his bike. (Probably a replica specifically for this type of thing but we won't tell them that!)

Due to the rain forecast we almost didn't go and that nearly broke my kids' hearts. I'm glad the weather held up and we were able to give our kids this opportunity. We live near so many great and awesome things here in Cali. and I need to remember not to take it for granted.

Some people think you should have to carry a passport to visit. And maybe someday you will. We have Hollywood and hippies. We also have augmentations and Arnold. And I wouldn't trade it for anything....

Indecisive

We all know how indecisive a woman can be when she's pregnant. And we also know her need to nest before the arrival of her little one. So I'm asking for your help... (from the 3 of you who read this blog occassionally, anyway).

I can't decide which blanket I want to knit for Baby Boy. (Yes... I said Baby BOY!!) Let me know your thoughts. Here are my top 3 in order of my most favorite.

OPTION A (in these exact same colors)

I love the detail of the cable-knitting in the center. I love the color combination. It's totally "Boy" without being the typical blue that you always see. This is my first pick.

OPTION B (in boy colors, obviously) This is a double-sided blanket.

Definitely more knitting to be done here.
Drawback? "Boy" color options are variations of blue. I was going to add some samples but my goal here is to get some help... not bore you to death.

OPTION C (also in more boyish color.... meaning more blue)

Here's a close-up of this fuzzy muppet-like yarn. Looks sooooo soft!

Drawback? Yarn supply will be limited since this yarn is discontinued. But that could possibly mean I get it at a discount. (Which would make Disneyland Daddy squeal smile in delight.)

So If your're up for helping a sister out then please comment with your opinion. If you don't comment then that will confirm what I've suspected all along... I'm the only one who ever reads this blog.

Thanks for your help!

Which will it be?

PINK

or

BLUE

we find out tomorrow......

MAYBE ;)

A borrowed Christmas story

Once upon a time there was a mischievous little cherub who came to dwell among the other seraphim and cherubim in Paradise. He was known as The Littlest Angel.


From the moment of his arrival, the heavenly peace was never quite the same and The Littlest Angel soon became both the joy and despair of the motherly host.

His crooked halo was permanently tarnished where he held on to it with one hot, little, chubby hand when he ran, and he was always running.

And being so small it seemed to take him twice as long as anyone else to get to nightly prayers. The Littlest Angel always arrived late, knocking every one's wings askew as he darted into his place.

His shrill, ear-splitting tantrums resounded at all hours through the golden streets. It startled the patriarch and disturbed his meditation. All paradise could easily understand why The Littlest Angel would, sooner or later, have to be disciplined. And so he was directed to present his small self before the motherly host in hopes of restoring the peace.

With a heavy heart, he trudged his way to the place of judgement. Standing defiantly, The Littlest Angel tried to pretend that he wasn't at all impressed by such stern words and that he wasn't at all afraid. But his lower lip trembled, and a tear disgraced him by making a new furrow down his already tear-streaked face.

And, as usual, his flaws in behavior were quickly forgiven. For the irresistible appearance of The Littlest Angel always made the motherly host forget to move her wings and she would fall head over halo for him just as she had exactly 4 years, 5 months, 23 days, 11 hours, and 42 minutes ago.

Yes, from the moment of The Littlest angel's arrival, the heavenly peace was never quite the same. But the patriarch and the motherly host and the other seraphim and cherubim loved that mischievous little cherub just the way he was.