Naughty List

Devin is preparing for his first reconciliation at church.  This is a big deal, since it is really the first sacrament in which he is a cognizant and willing participant.  Since he goes to a Catholic school, most of his preparation for reconciliation (or confession, for those non-Catholics) is done at school.  We did some work at home, and I wasn't sure how much he was really understood and reflected on this until we were on our way to the reconciliation retreat. We were in the car on the way there when Devin suddenly told me that he thinks I'm not on the Naughty List.  After I nearly spit coffee through my nose, I asked him why he thought that I wasn't on the Naughty List.  He said because I do lots of things for other people and I never bully anyone (side note: thanks for noticing Dev!).  Then I asked him if he thought he was on the Naughty List, and he said in a soft and serious voice, "I don't know."

It is quite timely that these little kids start learning about examining their consciences and admitting their sins right around the time that they are thinking about presents and Santa and Naughty Lists.  I remember being terrified at my first confession (and my second, and my third and my...) that the priest would think I was such a bad person for the things I did.  I had the usual things to report; fought with my siblings, disobeyed my parents, told a lie.  But I hated (er.. hate) to admit when I did something wrong and it just seemed so painful to bring it up again.  Then when we were in line for confession if another kid took a longer time talking to the priest, we would all think s/he was soooo bad.  I always hoped for short little conversations and never wanted to go face to face with a priest when admitting all my naughtiness.

Devin asked me what it's like going to confession, and I told him that I was always a little nervous beforehand (huge understatement), but that I always felt better after.  I also told him that I'm pretty sure he won't make the Naughty List either.

stressed about school? I don't even go to school...

I admit it: I was really pretty stressed out at the prospect of parent-teacher conferences.  To be specific, I was worried about our Kindergarten conference.  Our second grade conference for Devin was not concerning to me because the teacher and I have had some good conversations this year.  I am comfortable with her and I know that Devin is doing well.  He certainly has some areas for improvement, but overall he's great. 
However, the prospect of Alex's conference had me anxious.  There were a number of things to cover; both behavioral and academic.  Plus, my interaction with Alex's teacher has been more limited.  Most of our communication was through notes, while our face-to-face conversations were brief and at times abrupt.  Then I thought, "Was she short because of limited time or was she angry with something? Does she not like my child?  Is she mean?".  Going into this conference, I felt much less comfortable.  In my defense, Alex has given me reason to be nervous.  His report card had a few more "Needs Improvement" marks in the behavior section than I had expected.  He can be the most thoughtful and courteous boy, and he can also be insolent and willful.  Alex's behavior reminds me of the nursery rhyme:

There was a little girl who had a little curl

Right in the middle of her forehead;

When she was good, she was very, very good,

And when she was bad she was horrid.

Plus, based on the school work coming home, I knew that Alex was not being challenged academically in school.  We chose to send him to this school rather than to the gifted academy in part because we wanted him to have a well-rounded experience and that certainly includes learning how to follow rules and respectfully function and socialize in a class of twenty-five of his peers.  I knew that he would not be challenged initially because of the focus on rules and the adjustment to Kindergarten, but I was not confident that his teacher really knew the extent of his capabilities.  Heck, I'm not sure that I know the extent of his capabilities, but I know that a kid who can read number like 2051 correctly and who can do basic addition and subtraction in his head may not find worksheets where you connect the dots from the numbers one to five to be interesting work.  So I was pretty tense about the conference. 

But the meeting was good.  One of the first things that she told us was that overall he has improved significantly since the report card was written and that she is proud of him.  She said that he is behaving well in class and that he struggles more with unstructured times like when they are at recess or are walking to another building for an activity.  She absolutely raved about his school work and said that he was doing really great.  I left the conference feeling that Alex's teacher understands and likes Alex, and that Alex is making huge improvements in 'softer skills' where he needed to grow.  But I am still not sure that he is being challenged, and this is where I struggle.  Is it enough that he is happy going to school and he's growing socially even though he's not working to his academic potential?  Should we even be concerned about how much he's really being challenged since this is just Kindergarten? 
There was a day recently when Alex had his name read during the school announcements.  It was "Thankful Thursday" and Alex's teacher said that she was thankful for Alex because he really helped her clean up the classroom.  He was so thrilled that later he told us it was the best day of his life.  Of  His  Life. 
Maybe we should just sit back and let Alex and his teacher continue down this path.  They seem to be doing well so far...

mmmm.... cinnamon bread

After my speed work run today (half mile sprints in under four minutes followed by quarter mile easy jog), I was starving and I remembered that there is a really good bakery nearby.  I stopped by Great Harvest in search of a good chicken salad sandwich on some grainy bread.  Man did they deliver.  While there, I decided to pick up some bread for the family, and noticed that they had cinnamon chip bread that was fresh out of the oven.  It smelled fabulous, so I picked some up.  It was delicious.  I heated some up for the boys after school and they scarfed it down and asked for more.  No requests for butter either (which is a shock for Devin, really). 

Then after dinner tonight Devin asks for the cinnamon bread for dessert.  Forget the Halloween candy, he wants the bread. For dessert.  I can't say that I blame him though.  The whole kitchen smells amazing...

Happy Halloween!!!

We had a great Halloween weekend!  Between all the festivities at school, Halloween parties and six-year-old birthday parties, the Blake family managed to go to five parties in three days, play two soccer games, run 10 miles, cycle 14 miles, carve pumpkins and potty train.  Yes, we can do it all... sometimes. 

mind your manners

Yesterday all three kiddos were coloring at the kitchen table.  Devin asked Alex for a brown crayon, and Alex said, "What do you say?".  I had to laugh.  I know that they mimic what they hear, but it still surprised me to hear my five-year-old demanding good manners from my seven-year-old. 

the sneak

In an email exchange with Devin's teacher, she mentioned that he is having trouble following directions and staying on task during the school day.  She said that the kids are allowed to read when they complete their work, but that Devin is slow to put his books away and join what the rest of the class is doing, so he often starts lessons behind the rest of the kids.  My first thought was that we were heading down the "occupational therapist" path to determine if there are attention, fine motor or sensory issues to consider.  So I emailed her some questions.  I asked her if Devin's behavior was impacting his school work; if she thought his behavior was "typical" for a second grade boy and if she had any suggestions as to how we can help him. 

Last spring Devin's first grade teacher suggested that he be evaluated by an OT because he was always wiggly in his seat, because his handwriting was awful, because he was mouthing everything (his fingernails being the first choice...) and because he needed a lot of prompting and coaching to get started on his work.  The OT suggested some things to work on over the summer and said that we should re-evaluate his progress in the fall.  Since then his handwriting has improved and he stopped chewing his nails, so I thought he had matured and grown past some of his issues.  Plus, I know he's reading at a third grade level and will often read for forty-five minutes in a single sitting.  Clearly he can focus when he wants to.

I was volunteering in second grade last week, and Devin's teacher and I had an opportunity to chat about Devin.  She said that she thinks his behavior is impacting his work at times because he starts assignments after everyone else and is rushing to complete his work with the rest of the kids.  She also said that this behavior is typical for a kid Dev's age, but that he is doing it a lot more than most kids.  For instance, there were a number of times when the class would be reviewing and correcting their work, and Devin would sit at his desk (in the front row) and be reading from a book in his lap or playing with the items on his desk. 
Luckily his teacher and I are on the same page about leveraging extra therapies for potential attention issues (slow to get into the extra therapies), and we said that we would continue to talk to him about following directions and staying on task with the class while at school.  I completely agree that he needs to participate in these activities and follow directions, and I am thrilled that his teacher realizes that he may get past this with our encouragement and his own maturity.

Leave it to my kid to get busted for sneaking a book in school.

triumphant at last

Lately my runs have been mediocre at best.  I have gone into them a little tired, a little pressed for time, even a little hungover... and I haven't been that happy or motivated.  I think it was both a physical and a mental issue.  My injury from the USMC Mud Run certainly played a part.  At my ER visit they told me that I couldn't sweat "excessively" until the Dermabond came off my forehead, which meant no running for a couple weeks.  A couple weeks doesn't seem like much, but it is long enough that I lost my groove... until yesterday.
After dropping the boys off at school I hit the trail (for the first time in ages) where I did most of my training for the VA Beach half marathon.  The weather was cool and the sun was shining.  And for the first time in  a while, it felt really good to run.  I set out for a six mile tempo run, thinking that if I wasn't moving fast enough I would cut it short.  But I was moving just fine; faster than I expected even.  At the 3 mile turn around I was surprised both at my time and at how low my heart rate still was... so I picked it up a bit and pushed myself to a nine minute/mile pace for the last three.  Overall I did 6+ miles in 55 minutes and I felt awesome!! 
I know that not every run is going to be great, but runs like yesterday are the reason we lace up those sneakers time and again.

lulluby

Last night I was tired, so tired.  So I climbed into Alex's bed and under the covers while the kids were getting ready for bed.  Devin was in the shower and Alex was brushing his teeth.  Alex saw me and went to tell Devin that I was sleeping in his bed (his voice indicated that he thought this was really cool).  Then he came in, pulled the covers up over my arms and began to sing to me.

lulluby and good night
go to sleep my little mommy
la la la la, la la la
go to sleep my lovie mom

Does it get any better than that?

Motherhood

I came across this video and just had to share it.   

I don't know that this would have meant that much to me before I had kids.  The advice sounds good and all... but until you are facing some of the challenges that motherhood brings, it's all just rhetoric. 
The truth is that there are times when being a mom is terrifying.  There are times when you feel like you are in over your head and there are times when all you can do is worry.  There are times when you doubt yourself and your decisions.  There are times when you blame yourself for things that don't go right and there are times when you make mistakes. 
Let's face it, there is a lot at stake.  We are raising people. As parents, we are trying our best to keep them safe and healthy, but we are also trying to teach them to be kind, thoughtful and responsible people. 
The demands of motherhood are many; sleep deprivation, little time for yourself, endless demands on your patience,  constant re-negotiation of rules and boundaries as children grow.  But I think the greatest challenge comes is influencing the character of your children and in trying to help them learn to be good people.

deeee-licious!

Izzy is so much fun right now. She talks constantly and she sings constantly and bosses everyone around.  She's just hysterical. Most days she changes into a princess costume (or tutu, or cheerleader outfit) by lunchtime and insists on wearing it for the rest of the day. If anyone makes an unusual noise, like a sneeze or a burp or a hiccup, she will ask them if they are OK. Andy when Andy said his knee hurt the other day she tried to put a band-aid on him.  Yesterday we visited our friends new baby and Isabel packed up all of her binki's to give to Baby Katie (yes, we have had some sleep issues since, but we are working on it).  While we were there, Izzy sang to Katie and held her and read her books.  It was so sweet.  Now that her brother's are in school all day, Izzy and I are getting into a routine and she'll say to me, "It's just the girls.  Not the boys."  I know that this time is fleeting; I see how quickly it goes.  I know how long the school day feels when I miss my kids, and I sometimes get jealous of the teachers, for the time that they get to spend with my boys.  But for now I have Isabel all to myself.  I admit, I just love it.

What can I say? Isabel is delicious

VA Beach Half

I did it!!  I mean I freakin' rocked it!!  13.1 glorious miles in 2:04:05 and I felt awesome.  That time puts me five minutes and fourty four seconds faster than my first half marathon last December.  I am thrilled. 

Now back to the final Blake family beach vacation of 2010. 

remnants of hurricane Earl on the beach

boys playing ball



Izzy's favorite pastime - chasing birds

me & my hot husband



All smiles post-race with Mom and Dad

mmm... mmm... icecream

the storm before the hurricane

This week I felt like someone or something was conspiring against me.  See, back in May I was looking for a half-marathon to run this summer that was close to a destination that we could enjoy as a family.  I contemplated running Chicago in August, but we decided to take 1300 trips this summer and that would have interfered with one of the many.  Instead we opted for a beach weekend at the end of the summer (Labor Day) and I signed up for the Virginia Beach half marathon.  We figured it would be the last hurrah before school got serious and we were really into the swing of the school year, and we even convinced my parents to meet us there.  So I trained and trained in our record breaking hot weather and 300% humidity all summer long (and quickly realized why there were no local half marathons during the summer).
Then a few weeks ago Andy found out that he had a business meeting on the west coast this week.  He juggled his travel plans to get back late Wednesday (actually early Thursday) so we could still leave for the beach Thursday after school.  However, that left me to get two kids off to school every day for their first "real" week of school.  I know that sounds like it would be easy, since the boys were gone for seven hours each day, but easy it was not.  I still had some training to squeeze in, and I had Isabel to entertain.  Then there was the two hour eye-doctor appointment for Devin and both boys had their first soccer practice this week.  They practice on separate nights, so after a long day at school we got to spend two nights at the soccer fields instead of one.  With all three kids.  By myself. 
Oh, and I needed to do laundry and pack us all so we could leave for the beach twelve hours after Andy landed in NC.  By the end of each day we were all cranky and tired.  Now there was a category four hurricane headed to the NC and VA coast, and my excitement for this run race and beach weekend had pretty much waned.  I was exhausted, frustrated and really really grumpy. 
But then Andy made it home and I had help getting the kids off to school.  We decided not to rush off into the eye of the hurricane and chose to spend another day at home while the worst of the storm passes.  My parents came to our house to wait it out and we had a nice day together.  We packed, we played, we ate a good meal.  Tomorrow we set off to the beach.  Hopefully the hurricane will go gentle on us and all will be well when we arrive.  Sometimes a change in plans can be a good thing.

grade parent

I found out the other day that I am grade parent for both Devin and Alex this year.  At the open house last week I did sign up for both classes.  However, I told the coordinator very explicitly that they could put me where they needed me, but I only wanted one class.  Initially I was a little frustrated that I had both.  There are twenty-five kids in each class and two grade parents.  So out of the roughly fifty families that share a class with my two boys, they couldn't find three other parents to step up?  C'mon now.
But then I got to thinking, which class would I want to drop?  Alex really wants me to be his grade parent, but I really think that Devin needs me to be his grade parent.  What a lot of parents don't realize is that the grade parents really get to know the teachers well, and this is a good thing.  Plus they always are in the loop on field trips, parties and fun things.  Also, I think that when teachers know that the parents are concerned and engaged, they are more willing to give kids the benefit of the doubt and are more willing to work with the parents on issues.  My experience with Alex in preschool was such that I got to know his teachers well regardless of my volunteer efforts.  I assume that trend will continue, but I also want to help his teachers as much as I can. 
Devin is a different kid.  He can fly under the radar a bit.  He does well in school, he typically follows the rules and he's a decent kid.  If I don't engage with his teachers other ways (like volunteering), then I don't usually get to know them well.  Then working through concerns and questions is far less comfortable.  Plus, Devin volunteers virtually nothing about what he does at school.  Because of Isabel, I am pretty limited with the hours that I can spend volunteering at school... so grade parent it is.  Twice.

back to school. back to school. Back to School!!!

Can you tell we are excited in the Blake household?  From our cool new 'back to school' haircuts...

to waking up thirty minutes before the alarm (at 6:10am) on the first day of school.  These boys are ready!!

my AWESOME run

I'm not sure if it's because I finally had a great night's sleep where I woke up feeling completely rested, or if it's because I swam yesterday and really gave my legs a little recovery... but I had an AWESOME run today (yes that is CAPITAL and bold, because that is how good the run was).  Two days ago I went to the track at the crack of dawn to do sprint work and I struggled.  I did a two-mile run at 17:30 (8:45 miles) and then two one-mile runs at 8:40 before I called it quits (skipping the two half-mile sprints) and went home.  My two-mile pace was fine, but my mile pace was supposed to be 8:30 and I couldn't make it.  And I was pretty damn sure I wouldn't be able to make my half-miles at 4:05 (8:10 miles).  I was pretty bummed, but I still managed to cobble together six miles and I am finally accepting that not all runs are going to be great.

But today's run was absolutely AWESOME!  I opted for the treadmill (aka the dreadmill, considering how much I like it) and ran a warm up before starting what was going to be a three mile tempo (faster pace) run.  I started out with an 8:40 pace and felt great.  I had good music; the AC was wonderful and a mile or so in I kicked it up to 8:34.  Another mile and a half and I hit 8:27.  I felt so good I decided to add another mile and kicked it up to 8:20.  Overall I did 5.6 miles in under 50 minutes and my tempo pace for the four miles was around 8:30.  I felt like great.  I felt like I could have run another few miles at least.  I felt like a real runner.  It's for the days like today that we suffer through the tough runs.  Today I was strong.

realization

I just spent half an hour picking play-doh out of the carpet with a toothpick (well actually several toothpicks).  After that I vacuumed it up and went to work with the toothpicks again, this time on the jelly and yogurt that had hardened.  Pick.  Vacuum.  Pick.  Vacuum.  I was absolutely thrilled with the result.  Seriously.  It is official.  I am a mom who is truly pleased to clean up the various crap that my kids drop on my rug. 
I forfeit all claims on coolness.

summertime & s'mores

Summertime and s'mores.  What could be better?

no excuses

There was a time when I was decidedly not a runner.  Not only was I not a runner, but I prided myself in not being a runner.  My line to all my runner friends in college was, "I run when chased... sometimes."  But college was a time of partying, drinking and late night burritos, not a time of fitness.  Granted, I was a lifeguard and still jumped into the pool to swim laps a few times a week, but running was out of the question.  My stance on running was so accepted, that I remember one of my friends expressing her surprise when she heard that I ran for a bus.  I still can hear her tone of voice when she said, "You ran?!?"
I was thinking about that time of my life and how much has changed while I was out running in the Carolina heat and humidity this morning.  I got a late start (about three hours later than my usual start time) and it was hot.  Running in the heat is a lot harder than swimming in the heat.  Go figure.  I was having a tough time trying to keep my pace (because I not only run now, but I follow a training plan) and getting pretty discouraged when I remembered that voice.  "You ran?!?"  It is truly amazing what you can do when you decide to stop making excuses and just do it.*  Yes, I ran.  Today I ran seven miles at a 9:29 min/mile pace in ninety degree heat and humidity.  I'm slower than a lot of people, but I'm faster than a lot of people too.  I am I certainly faster than all the people who still think that running is not an option.

* while I have no intention of doing PR for Nike, the slogan fits.

The hammer

Devin is a bit of a drama queen.  This is not new, but what we are dealing with is more akin to what I would expect from a teenage girl than a seven year old boy.  Lately I have been hearing, "This is the worst day ever!" for such trivialities as:

• learning that a friend cannot sleep over
• needing to turn off the PlayStation/TV/DS
• generally not getting to do things Devin's way

At first we tried to ignore the drama, but over time it really grates on you.  Today I had to bring down the hammer.  After learning that it was indeed another 'worst day ever' in Devin's world (this time because of an accidental deletion on the PlayStation.  Never mind that we went to a movie with nine little boys from the neighborhood today and he got to play PlayStation for a hour - far longer than I usually allow) I asked him how today could be the worse day ever, when he said yesterday was.  Then we talked about how sad it was if every day was so horrible and how we need to create our own happiness.  Nothing seemed to connect with Devin and he continued to lament his awful life when I sent him to his room to think (and to calm myself down). 
When he returned I gave Devin a vocabulary lesson.  He learned the meaning of the words "selfish" and "spoiled" and "brat".  We again talked about all the good and wonderful things in our lives for which we should be grateful.  This resulted in more tears combined with a declaration of how damaged his feelings were by my vocabulary lesson.  And yet, I could tell that I still was not getting through to him. 
As I was putting Devin to bed, I started talking to him about the day that Brianna died.  I explained that she had been sick and in the hospital for a couple days when the doctors wanted to do a test to check her heart, and when they did the test her heart stopped working.  She could not breathe.  She could not talk.  She could not see.  She could not smile or laugh or sing or dance.  I told Devin that I knew that the day that Brianna died was the worst day ever for her parents (my sister and brother-in-law) and for his cousins.  I told Devin that day was the worst day ever for Grandma and Grandpa and for Andy and I and I was pretty sure it was the worst day for his other aunts and uncles and cousins too.  And I asked him if he thought that today was as bad as the day that Brianna died. 

I think he is starting to understand.

to tri or not to tri...

That is the debate. 
It's summer.  For the past ten (or so) years, summer for me has been triathlon season, unless of course I was pregnant or nursing a new born.  Those summers I had a legitimate reason to sit out a season.  But now it's summer and I love triathlons.  I love training, I love racing and I love trying to better my previous race times. 
Last weekend Andy did his first sprint tri and I was so excited for him.  He had a great race and it was really fun to encourage him in this new achievement.  But I love competing too, and I am starting to miss triathlons.  Last summer was tough because I was training for tri's and Andy was working out a lot.  He had made a new commitment to becoming a healthier person and I was absolutely behind that*!  We found it challenging to manage our training schedules while caring for the kids and trying to get workouts done before the Carolina heat set in each day. 
Now this summer I have been running and swimming, but I only started training for my half marathon (racing on Labor Day) a few weeks ago.  Part of me thought I might so a tri this summer, but between my other training, and all of our summer travel plans, I thought it would be difficult to do everything that I want to do.  I had my eye on a race in August (between our trips to Chicago and Boston) but haven't registered yet because I'm not sure how to manage all the training.  It is difficult to find time to training for three sports while caring for three kids.  Plus, I am already committed to running three times per week to prepare for my half marathon.  So the question is: can I realistically train in swimming and biking in three days each week (because we all need a rest day)?  I'm not sure that I can.  To be fair, I know that I could go out tomorrow and complete a sprint triathlon.  But I have completed a lot of sprint triathlons.  If I do another one, I want to be competitive.  I want to do well. 
Now Andy is thinking about training for another tri in a couple months and he is not really excited about both of us vying for workout time in the morning, especially since I am starting to do longer runs.  Is it realistic that we could both train?  Should I just focus on the half marathon and let him be the reigning triathlete in the household this summer?  Should maintain my current training and then go out and wing it in a sprint triathlon and hope for the best?  I wish I had an easy answer.

Andy after finishing his first Triathlon!!

*  For the record, Andy has lost 50 lbs since last spring and looks amazing.  Hubba Hubba!

the left side

always the left side.  again the left side. 

The weekend before I was supposed to start training in earnest for the half marathon I started feeling that all-too-familiar, none-too-fun ache in my left hamstring and lower back.  I stretched and stretched and decided to give it a little time to heal.  But I really didn't stop running.  In fact, during our week on the beach I ran even more, since the waves were way too crazy for *real* swimming and I didn't have a gym.  So my hip started complaining too, and now I am following my own advice and, "listening to my body".  I am back at the chiropractor, shortening my runs, stretching and icing and hoping that all will be better soon.  While I am frustrated to be doing this again, I am glad that I still have a couple months until the half marathon.

beach people

It's official; the beach vacation is over. As we were walking through the sand to the board walk, Isabel said to me, "But Momma, I'm not ready."

Moments later (as we were walking to the showers to rinse off before our four hour drive home), Devin told me that this was a great vacation.

When we asked Alex what his favorite part of vacation was, he said "everything". 

While we will all be glad to get back to our home, friends and our routines, I truly believe that we Blake's are meant to be beach people.

status quo

this is what vacation should look like

..but dull he is not

Yesterday Alex received a card from a preschool girl who says that she is his girlfriend.  Alex is already a ladies man, and he loves when we talk about girls (and more specifically his girl friends).  So I started teasing him that Brooke wasn't his girlfriend because I was his girlfriend and he was mine all mine (with all the appropriate cuddles and kisses being given as I was saying this).  Alex told me that I couldn't be his girlfriend, and I asked him "why not"?  I was expecting any number or responses from him; "Because you are my mom", "Because you're too old", etc. 

Alex said, "Because you are clearly a loser."

I laughed so hard that I didn't even reprimand him for being fresh.  Wonder where he heard that one...

flip flop addiction

I have a problem.  This is not something new or really all that new or unique, but it is my problem nonetheless.  I am addicted shoes; flip flops to be exact.  In the past I could mask justify my shoe addiction by simply purchasing a variety of shoes for the different seasons one faces in New England: summer - flip flops, spring - cute sneakers, fall - cool boots, winter - gore-tex clogs.  However now that I am in the South, there is really little justification in purchasing the multitude of flip flops that I have acquired.  I have sporty flip flops, dressy flip flops, flip flops that look best with jeans, flip flops that stand up to the chlorine and salt water of summer and even the adorable leather flip flops with the huge flower on them that I have been eyeing for months (drool).

They are fantastic!  I am sometimes good about purging the old flops, but often times my increase in 'stock' does not match my 'shrinkage'.  After my most recent purge, I now own eleven pairs of flip flops.  The sad thing is that my shoes for the winter months are really quite pathetic.  If only I could live in my flip flops year round. 

little girls are evil

Sure they look cute enough, but underneath the princess costumes and the giant smiles is pure evil.  It started out innocent enough, with Isabel and her little friend (age 3) playing at our house today.  But these little ladies vacillated between happy tranquility and nastiness all morning.  They went from bickering over toys and slamming bedroom doors to singing songs and playing with princesses.  One minute they were playing at the kitchen in the toy room (while I was cleaning the real kitchen) and the next I heard the front door open.  As I was sprinting to the door to retrieve the two little ladies, I slipped on a discarded princess outfit and crashed to the floor, slamming into the closet door jam.  And there I lay.

I had a moment where I really thought I was going to have to call another grown person to come and take care of the kids.  I had Alex get the little girls back into the house and lock the door (which had been locked before..) and I assessed the situation.  Huge bruised lump on the left shin.  Imprint of a door jam on swollen right knee.  Right hip pain.  Swollen right hand.  Then I realized that the impact of the fall was so hard that it made me pee my pants.  Seriously?  I have nearly peed my pants from laughing, and Lord knows I needed to do a zillion kegels after having three babies, but... seriously?? 

So I did what any parent does when they realize that they are completely defeated.  I put Dora on the TV for the pretty little demons, changed my clothes, iced my injuries and started to reclaim my dignity.  Might be time to put a chain on that door. 

scheming...

Devin was musing today on how great it would be if he could create a robot or a droid that could do his homework.  It started with his math homework, then he added the spelling.  Before I knew it he was scheming to create a blonde, almost seven-year-old droid that could pass for him at school too.

Think he's ready for the school year to end?

I felt needed

I am lucky enough to be a volunteer at the Children's Hospital near our home.  Yesterday I had my first shift on the oncology floor, and surprisingly I really look forward to going back.  I thought working in oncology would be really sad, but it wasn't.  I have worked on other floors before and I have always felt useful, but yesterday I felt more than useful.  I felt needed.  Many of the kids that I met were too sick or too medicated to want to interact with anyone, but the few who were having good days seemed so glad to have someone new to joke around with them and pay them some attention.  Unlike on the other floors, these kids and their families have been in the hospital for weeks or months, many times over.  They have seen all the movies; they have read the books, done the crafts and they are just plain tired of being at the hospital.  I found myself being a total goof with the teenagers; teasing them like I would my nieces and nephews and doing what I could to make them laugh.  I played with the littler ones the way I would play with my own; talking about Disney princesses and favorite colors.
One family that I met yesterday stays in one hospital room together while their child is in treatment.  Four of them sleep in that small room each night before Dad takes the older one off to school and goes to work for the day.  I spent a lot of my time with their sweet daughter, who was happy to tell me what the tooth fairy brought her, or show me her silly bands, but I also talked with her parents a lot.  We talked about our kids.  We talked about their schools and homework.  We talked about what they like to eat or wear or the differences in raising boys versus girls.  We chatted like friends at the park or the soccer field, only we were in a hospital room with a little girl who had a tube in her chest and was losing her hair.
My friend from high school has a son in remission from leukemia.  She made the comment to me that most of the hospital volunteers are college age or senior citizens, so having a 'mom' as a volunteer would be great.  I thought she meant it would be great for the kids, but I realize now that it's great for the parents also. 
Yesterday when I was leaving they asked when I would be back again, and I told them not for another month.  The mom said that they should be there.  While I certainly look forward to seeing that amazing family again, I really wish that instead they will be happily at home.

song

I find this song both haunting and beautiful.  It brings me to tears. 

I am 6 years old in the back of my mother's car
and I will be 7 in December
She will be gone by the beginning of next spring
and I will be left to remember
To remember

I ask my little questions
and she laughs a little laugh
But she won't tell me where we're going
She looks in my eyes with her eyes in the mirror
And says, "Some things you're better off not knowing"
Not knowing

But I don't know what her voice sounds like
I don't know what her skin feels like
I only know what it might feel like
When a mother holds her daughter
When that mother knows she's leaving this life
Leaving this life

She's left with that reflection of me at 6 years old
And I have her eyes in the mirror
Well she and I, we are defined by what we have lost
Don't you wonder whose loss is dearer
Dearer

She doesn't know what my voice sounds like
She doesn't know what my skin feels like
And I only know what it might feel like
When a mother holds her daughter
When that mother knows she's leaving this life
Leaving this life

And I don't know what her voice sounds like
And I don't know what her skin feels like
I only know what it might feel like
When a mother holds her daughter
When that mother knows she's leaving this life
Leaving this life

"Leaving this Life" - Lori McKenna
 
 

intelligence

There are many ways to measure intelligence.  Does a person's achievement really reflect their capabilities?  What does it mean to be 'gifted'?  And how does a 'gifted' child fit into the curriculum of a 'regular' school?

Andy and I have been toiling with these questions for the past few months, ever since Alex's preschool suggested that we get him IQ tested, because they thought he might be 'gifted'.  Alex is very bright, there is no denying that.  He has been doing 100 piece puzzles on his own since he was four, and he can build the most amazing things with blocks and legos.  When we do first grade math homework aloud with Devin, Alex is often as quick or quicker to answer the questions, and a couple months before his fifth birthday he began to read.  I think our first reaction would have been to assume that Alex was just trying to keep up with his brother by doing the things that Devin does.  However, a close friend and educator had mentioned the same thing to us months before; she also said she thought he might be gifted.  We began to wonder if there was something else at play.  If Alex was truly gifted, we would need to find out so that we could ensure that he's being challenged appropriately in school.  So we met with a psychologist and an education specialist, both of whom suggested that Alex be IQ tested, and we started investigating our options for his education.  Can the school that we plan to send him to accommodate gifted kids?  Is there space for him in the gifted academy, even though we are not in that district?  Does our own district have any options to offer?  Is Alex truly gifted??????
Months ago, when we initially discussed this, my friend was quick to warn me that gifted kids don't always do well in school. They don't always follow along with the class and are often curious and impulsive. They excel in what they are interested in, and sometimes disregard the rest. She likened Devin to a "high achiever", meaning he's a smart kid that will work hard and do well in school. This is rather familiar to Andy and I, since I think we both fall into that category.  But gifted kids... well we all have something to learn.

For the purposes of Alex's evaluation, the psychologist said that they consider an IQ of 140 to be gifted (100 is average).  She also mentioned that most Catholic grade schools teach to an IQ level of 115 or 120.  Alex was tested last week.  While we are awaiting the official results, the psychologist indicated that he tested at about 135 for non-verbal and about 120 for verbal.  While he may qualify for the gifted academy, we learned that they will not take students from other districts.  However, he is still above (or at the high water mark) for the Catholic school's curriculum.  We are waiting for her full report before we approach his future Kindergarten.  Although he is not considered gifted, with that IQ he is considered to be in the top 2.2% of his peers and we want to ensure that the school knows what kind of special little guy they are getting in the fall.

toddler love

Isabel loves me.  For a two-year-old to love her mother is no surprise, but at times I am overwhelmed by her love.  It is absolutely wonderful to know that this beautiful little person thinks I am the center of the world (or rather, that she is the center of my world), but it can be a little troublesome as well.  Since she was a year old she would push her brothers out of my lap when we were cuddling, only now she accompanies that action with an angry, "My Mommy!".   I can't count the times that she refused basic care from her father in deference to me.  Tonight, after insisting that I get her out of her car seat, she flat out would not let Andy give her a bath.  She ran from him yelling, "No, no, Papa.  Mommy give Izzy bath.".  The men of the house all seem to take these antics in stride.  However, I worry that she will eventually hurt Andy's feelings, and I certainly feel like I miss out on some quality time with the boys.  I cannot read with them at bedtime without her planting herself right in the middle of the action. 

But I adore my little girl.  She's funny and sweet and such a joy to all of us.  There are times when I literally yearn for her cuddles and affection, but my feelings pale in comparison with the fierce intensity of her love.  I admit, there is a part of me that hopes this will never change.

don't know how they do it...

I ran nearly eleven miles yesterday morning.  Unlike when I was training for the half-marathon last fall/winter, the humidity was about a gazillion percent and I really felt the difference.  When I got home, all I wanted to do was lay down.  In the grass, on the floor... I did not care.  I was just completely wiped.  My clothes were soaked to the point where I could have wrung them out and I was a mess.  It was all I could do to keep moving that morning as I puttered around the house, cleaning and doing laundry.  I held to together until Izzy and Alex went down for a nap, and then I did the same. 
I am certainly learning that there is a direct correlation between the number of miles I run and the amount of time I need to lay down afterward.  Let's just say that a full marathon is probably not in my future.  But it got me to thinking... how do people manage?  How do people train for something that requires hours of constant activity, and still work full time and care for their families? 
No wonder it takes someone exceptional to run a marathon or (OMG!) an Ironman.  There is a part of me that wistfully imagines myself completing an Ironman, but the reality is that I cannot imagine the impact that all of the training would have on the rest of my life. 
For now I will just remain in awe of those who compete in the ultra endurance events.  I will do another half marathon (or maybe two) this year and be content knowing that we all do the best that we can...

from the mouths of babes

In the car on the way home from soccer tonight Alex and Isabel were lobbying for a treat, and they were giving me suggestions of which desserts I could give them.  Isabel knew that I had recently purchased some popsicles, and asked for those. 
Then Alex said,"Mommy, I think Isabel said she wants some testicles."

Happy Birthday Isabel

My baby doll turned two last week.  Can you believe it? 

Happy Birthday Love-bug!!  You are pure sunshine.

seriously?

holy crap, has it really been that long since I posted anything?  Seriously?  I guess I'll just have to get off my couch, put away the bonbons and get down to business. 

tomorrow.  when I'm not so tired...  or when I have less to do...

Kaizen

I'm not a believer in New Year's resolutions. I just don't think that they work for me. When I worked at Fidelity Investments, a philosophy of continuous improvement, or kaizen, was introduced to me. Wikipedia states, "The term kaizen (Japanese for "improvement") is a Japanese word adopted into English referring to a philosophy or practices focusing on continuous improvement in manufacturing activities, business activities in general, and even life in general, depending on interpretation and usage". I like to believe that I am continuously working to better myself, regardless of the time of year. When I train for races, I follow a training plan almost to a fault. I set goals that are achievable yet challenging, and I work really hard to accomplish my goals.
And yet, I don't think that I look quite like someone who works out like I do. Don't get me wrong; I am pleased with my endurance, my strength and my cardio-vascular capabilities. I am in the best shape of my life, and yet this "best shape of my life" body doesn't quite look the way that I expected. So in the spirit of Kaizen, I decided to make a change. I decided to diet. See, I have managed to get back into shape by exercising a lot and eating healthy, but I have not been really limiting myself.  And it worked, to an extent. But I am ready for more; I am ready to look the way I imagined I would when exercising as long and as hard as I do. So I am in diet mode: keeping the food journal and avoiding the carbs. and sweets. and alcohol.
I do not love this, but I hope that I will love the effect that this has.
Continuous improvement.

politics

I have always considered myself liberal. I'm not sure when I decided my political affiliations, but I think that I always aligned myself the aspirations of the Democratic Party. I like the idea of helping those who cannot help themselves. I am pro-life, because I think abortion is wrong, but I am also pro-choice, because I would not take away another woman's right to choose. I believe that adequate healthcare is a right that we all should share. Moving from Boston to Charlotte was a bit of a culture shock for me during the presidential election. I was used to a state full of liberals; where gay marriage is legal and healthcare is available to all (I was also used to incredibly high state taxes, but that is a different story...). Charlotte is a land of transplants and big banks, so there are certainly many who shared my politics, but many did not. In fact, when I would describe myself as a social liberal and a fiscal conservative, many of my Republican friends shared that stance. In the election, I supported Obama. I really thought that he could bring about change, but I also knew that it took our country years to get into the sorry state that we were in, and it would take years to rectify many of the problems.

When my compatriots in Massachusetts elected a Republican senator and shifted the power in congress, the political pundits said that it was a reaction to Obama leadership. It was a reaction to the healthcare plan that many people do not support. And maybe it was a more local reaction for the people of Massachusetts who are concerned about their state representation more than the overall political impact. Honestly, I was not disappointed. Surprised, but not disappointed.
I do support universal healthcare, but I think that we as a country need more clarity on how this will be funded. I firmly believe that no one should be exempt from the tax (especially the unions), and was disappointed to learn that Obama is willing to make concessions that don't make sense just for the sake of passing his reform bill. And I am frankly tired of Obama's attacks on the very industry that puts a roof over my head and food on my table. The banks are not the root of all financial problems in this country, so stop demonizing them. If the American people could spend within their means instead of over-extending themselves financially, then we would have a much smaller problem. But considering that our government is currently incurring a debt that my daughter's granddaughter will someday be paying, I understand why people would be slow to learn about living within their means.

In the meantime, I do not regret my support for Obama. I am willing to give him some more time. But damn, that man is a wonderful orator.

my holiday gift

Patience of Mother Teresa aside, one thing that I did do for my family this year was sacrifice the physique that my running and my hard work at the gym created (a physique that is less then perfect, of course, but continuously improving) to ensure that my kids did not consume too much sugary food.  I let them have the candy from the stockings and the candy canes on the tree, but I managed to consume enough baked goods for myself and all three kids combined.  This was no small feat, considering that the Christmas baking started in the Blake house around December 15th and there was much iteration.  Cookies for teachers, cookies for parties, test cookies for parties, cookies for Santa.  But I did it.  I kept my family safe from all the needless calories the same way a soldier throws himself on a grenade.  I took one (or two, or three) for the team.  What can I say?  I'm a giver...

patience

I have come to realize that the holidays aren't only stressful for the parents of this world, but it's a pretty challenging time for the kids too. For them it's primarily excitement (and lots of extra sugar), but their enthusiasm isn't always expressed appropriately. One would think that given their awareness of Santa watching, baby Jesus coming (which is becoming a bigger deal with their Christian education), and the Elf on the Shelf, the kids would be on their best behavior. That is just not the case. So I have made a decision about how I can make the holidays better for my family. This holiday season I will have the patience of Mother Teresa. I will cuddle the cranky, teething toddler without worrying about what else I should be doing. I will try to do something every day to make sure that my kids have a fun day, even if it means that they come in covered from nose to knees in mud. I will count to ten before I yell. I will not stress out about play-doh being ground into the carpet or sandy footprints in the hallway. And I will not take my frustrations out on the only other adult in the house.
I expect my kids to be kind and respectful. I won't tolerate bad behavior, but I am going to find a little more patience for each one of them. They deserve it, and I think we will all have a happier holiday if I can.

Inspiration

We all get inspriation from different places.  In my race report (previous post) I mentioned that it was a good song that made me kick up my pace during my half marathon.  But I think it was more than that.  The song in question is "I got a Feeling" by the Black Eyed Peas, which I think is a fun, great running song.  However, the night before my race I came across this amazing video of the Black Eyed Peas playing an outdoor show in Chicago as part of Oprah's 24th season kickoff.  There was something spectacular about seeing a crowd of thousands of people doing this amazing thing in my hometown that just gave me goosebumps.  Marathon morning when I looked around at all the people running miles and miles through the streets of Charlotte, and all the volunteers, and all the people that were braving the cold to cheer on the runners, I just felt like I was part of something bigger.  We all are. 
Please check it out: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1aSbKvm_mKA

Thunder Road Half Marathon

I was worried about my hip. I was worried about going 13.1 miles when my longest run to date was 10.4. I was even a little worried about the unseasonably cold weather. I was excited to compete in something new, but I'll admit it, I felt a little out of my element on Saturday morning when we were getting ready to run. Everything was working out perfectly. No problems getting to the convention center to get my pre-race stuff, lines for packet pickup and bathroom were reasonable, and once the sun came up, it didn't feel as cold as I thought I would. But my confidence wasn't there. My last run (the Wednesday before) was as close to pain free as I had experienced since Thanksgiving and I had a great night sleep on Friday, so by all accounts I should have been ready, but I didn’t feel it.
Kim and I started somewhere in the middle of the five thousand runners that braved the twenty-eight degree temps to run either the half or full marathon. The vibe was amazing. People dressed as elves, as Santa, and we even saw one guy dressed as Bam Bam from the Flintstones (apparently he missed the Halloween races but wanted to get some use out of the costume). The road ahead of us was packed with runners and the road behind us was the same. I almost didn't notice my pace or the hills for the first couple miles. Around mile four I realized that my heart rate was higher than I wanted it to be and I slowed down a bit. Since this was my first half marathon, my only stated goal was to finish... but I really hoped that I could do it in ten-minute miles or better. I could tell that Kim was a little concerned about our pace (which seemed to fluctuate between 9:40 and 10:30, but was over ten-minute miles more than under), so I gave her the out to leave me behind if she wanted. I really felt like I was going as fast as I needed to be at that point. I had decided that I needed to keep my heart rate on the lower end of my comfort zone until about mile eight or ten, and then I could let loose. So I slowed us down a few times. If Kim was bothered by it she didn't let on. At the mile markers we were consistently hitting a 10:05 or 10:10 pace… until I got a really good song on my iPod at about mile seven or eight and we took off. Kim pulled us through another good song on her iPod, and before we knew it we were at mile nine and had cut thirty seconds off our split time. My legs felt good. My hip was starting to complain a bit, but it was still so much better than it has been just a week ago. We hit mile ten and had shaved off another twenty seconds. We were running at about a 9:30 pace when we hit mile eleven and Kim and I had officially run further than either of us had ever run in the past. At that point I knew I could make the full 13.1 miles, and now it was time to chase down my other goal: finish the race in a ten-minute mile pace. I won't say it wasn't hard, but I pushed it. When I felt myself slowing, Kim was right there pulling us along. I was taught years ago by one of my fastest runner friends (Ed Tarnuzzer, for those of you who know him) that you always need something left for the finish, and this was no different. As we got closer to the finish we picked up our pace, and when I saw that big yellow banner printed with the glorious word "FINISH", I ran as hard as I could. We made it. Kim and I finished the race in 2:09:49, which meant that our average pace was 9:55.
I may have been too conservative with my pace early on; I may have been able to go faster. When I try something for the first time, I tend to keep my goals pretty modest. I don't ever want to work that hard and train that long only to be disappointed with my performance. My goals that day were to finish and to run ten-minute miles or better, and I did it.

I did it!

perspective

It's all about perspective.
I have been a little bummed lately. At the end of September, I started training for this half marathon (the race is this Saturday, December 12th) and have loved my training. I had been feeling great and running better than I ever thought I could. Then a week and a half ago I start having IT band issues and I am so frustrated. I want to go into this race feeling like I'm at the top of my game. I know that this is not the Olympic trials and I am not some world-class athlete, but when I compete in something I want to know that I am doing the best that I can do. So after a tough week of running, where I was in some pain during my runs and absolutely hobbling around after, I was nervous about my longer run today. I am caught between wanting to follow my training plan to the letter to ensure that I am ready... and not wanting to push myself because I don't want this injury to force me out of Saturday's race. So I planned to do six miles, but thought I'd push it to eight if I felt up to it.
But I live in a hilly area and completely forgot that my PT suggested I find a flat course for this run until I was already running the first of many hills. See, the hills hurt. I mean, running hills rarely feels awesome, but with my ITB/hip pain the hills can be killer. So as I was in the midst of the half-mile climb to leave my neighborhood, I quickly nixed the eight-mile plan. My run was okay. I felt decent enough, but with every stride my hip hurt from the time my foot hit the ground until I pushed off again. Around mile five I started to feel disappointed that I was hurting and that my pace was pretty slow (I thought I was doing 10+ minute miles) when running had recently been such a great experience for me.
I'll admit I was about to start a little pity party when I remembered a blog post that read recently, which I had written in January of this year. In this post I was bemoaning the fact that I couldn't run a mile. One mile. See, I had made good running progress last fall after recovering from my broken ankle, but I got pneumonia for the holidays and running was out of the question for a while. How's that for a little perspective? I couldn't run a mile, and less than a year later I'm banging out six miles and feeling bad about my ten-minute mile pace? Not for long. I realized that while dealing with an injury so close to my race isn't ideal, it's out of my control. Things don't always go our way. All I can do is go into that race on Saturday and do my best; injured or not.

I finished my six and a half mile run with an overall pace of 9:54 per mile. So much for the pity party.

gorgeous

Isabel's new phrase: "I'm Gorgeous!".  No issues with her self esteem.  I can't wait until she starts saying that without prompting.  That will be hilarious.  She is though, isn't she?

missing the B

I was at my sister's house while visiting Chicago, and I saw a new picture of Brianna.  Ok, to be accurate, the picture was not new; it has been four and a half years since Brianna died, but it was a picture that I don't remember seeing before.  I didn't realize it, but I had committed all the other pictures of her to memory except this one.  This picture was new to me.  And I cried.  It's funny sometimes the things that will set us off.  When I am in my life far away from the rest of the family, I can remember Brianna more fondly, more objectively.  I can think about all the wonderful things that she brought into our lives in her short nine years and I can be grateful that we had her that long.  But when I go to Chicago it's different.  In Chicago I miss her more, because that is where she is meant to be.  She didn't spend time in my house in Massachusetts and we moved South long after she was gone, so while I miss her always, the feeling is nothing compared to the void felt at my sister's house.  I still miss you punkin.  I can only imagine the young woman that you would be becoming now.

itbs

and so it is.  The hip pain is from my IT band.  Many runners before me have complained of this issue, and many will after I have sworn off running forever.  But for now I will stretch, heat/ice as needed and scale back my mileage significantly in preparation for my half.  Less than two weeks to go.  Wish me luck.

training

I have done a fair amount of racing.  I'm certainly not as hard-core as my marathon and ironman friends, but I've done twelve triathlons, a few 10k races and more 5k's than I could possibly count.  Through the years of racing, I have come to realize a couple things about myself.  First, I need a goal. I need something to train for, or I get bored and a little lost at the gym.  With a goal, comes a training plan.  I need a plan.  I need someone else to outline what I should be doing and when I should be doin it so that I can just get out there and train.  For my half marathon next month, I have been using a training plan from Runner's World that has me running three very focused runs per week.  And I have loved my training. 
I used to hate running.  This summer I was training for a tri in September, and I realized that for the first time ever, I was truly enjoying my hour long runs. I thought it might be time to try something new.  A few friends had signed up for a half marathon here in town in December, and within days of completing the tri I signed up (have I mentioned that I need a goal?).  My training plan has me running 20-25 miles per week in three runs.  It has been really difficult at times and I have had to really push myself, but I am really enjoying it.  I have learned all about the importance of body glide and fueling up along the way during long runs.  I have drained the blood and pus from a black tonail (which I gladly did not lose! One of my runner friends told me to consider it a 'rite of passage' into the big leagues for running.).  I have worn down my running shoes to the point where the rubber was gone and I was running on the cushion (lesson learned about breaking in new shoes before the old ones are toast...).  I have been to the PT about some minor knee pain that I did not want to turn into major knee pain while training. 

And I have been running longer and faster than I ever have in my life. 

My left hip (left ankle, left knee, left hip... I'm sensing a theme) started complaining during my long run on Tuesday and was far more vocal during my speedwork on Thursday, so I skipped my long run this weekend.  Time for another visit to the PT so I can be in tip-top shape for the race.  Less than two weeks to go.  I am nervous about my latest injury, but so very excited to run!!