tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-74372826144630712722024-03-13T11:07:18.875-07:00Finding Fit, Fun, Focus and Fortylfghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17339578814257434093noreply@blogger.comBlogger78125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7437282614463071272.post-432048679164957452013-05-28T05:39:00.003-07:002013-05-28T05:39:57.762-07:00ChangeWhat I’ve been doing isn’t working very well. <br />
<br />
<br />
I’m consumed with stress.<br />
<br />
I spend too much time worrying, working. <br />
<br />
It is seriously affecting who I am, who I want to be. <br />
<br />
Change is frightening.<br />
<br />
But it is time. <br />
<br />
It is time to focus on my family, our health and our happiness.<br />
<br />
I can do this.<br />
<br />
It’s time to be strong. <br />
<br />
It’s time for my voice to be heard. <br />
<br />
It’s time to take charge and be me.<br />
<br />
lfghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17339578814257434093noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7437282614463071272.post-16043130440016948702012-11-24T06:07:00.003-08:002012-11-24T06:33:25.298-08:00PerspectiveMy life has been incredibly chaotic. At least I think so. Work has been busy, I've taken on a role at the boys school that has taken up more of my time than I expected, and the boys have had all their normal busy sports schedules. I've done some traveling this fall that wasn't normal with a trip to LA to spend some time with my aunt, a trip to Moab to complete a Half Marathon I didn't have time to train for, and a work trip to Milwaukee and a quick one to St. George. See. Busy.<br />
<br />
But all of this busyness is my choice. I accept that and I'm not complaining. I'm also not looking for sympathy or trying to find excuses for not writing. They were simply choices. <br />
<br />
This morning I was reading a blog and came across this letter written by Fiona Apple. I could not make it past the first paragraph without crying. It really puts life into perspective and I am thankful for mine, as crazy and chaotic as it is.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://pmcoolthings.tumblr.com/post/36154747816/fiona-apples-moving-letter-to-fans-about-her-ailing">http://pmcoolthings.tumblr.com/post/36154747816/fiona-apples-moving-letter-to-fans-about-her-ailing</a><br />
<br />
~Peace and Joylfghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17339578814257434093noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7437282614463071272.post-22215036201762601342012-04-25T14:08:00.000-07:002012-04-25T14:12:37.278-07:00The 5 A’s<strong>I started this week with a great deal of optimism. It has dwindled to the point of not know what to do next, or even wanting to do anything. I can’t seem to figure IT out this week. </strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
<strong><br /></strong><br />
<strong>My boss, who is an eternal optimist, shared with me this story. It was a great reminder for me as I deal with everything I’m not feeling great about. It’s too good not to share. </strong><br />
<strong><br /></strong><br />
<strong>(Names have been changed to protect the anonymous )</strong><br />
<br />
<em>Back in high school my good friend John wanted to join the football team. John was an exemplary student who ended up being top of our class academically. His father told him that he could play football but that his grades could not suffer. </em><br />
<em><br /></em><br />
<em>Report card day came and his dad had a ritual of calling each of his children in the study to review the grades. John invited me to dinner that night. He wanted some support because he had gotten a B+ in Russian and figured his dad would be easier on him with me in the house. </em><br />
<em><br /></em><br />
<em>After dinner, John’s dad called him into the study. I heard his dad say, “JOHN! WHAT DO I SEE HERE?” John replied with, “I hope you see the 5 A’s.”</em><br />
<br />
<strong>What is the moral of this story? I’ll let you decide. </strong><br />
<br />lfghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17339578814257434093noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7437282614463071272.post-1110866442910394372011-07-07T13:39:00.000-07:002011-07-07T13:45:59.544-07:00FossilizedThe Salt lake Valley was once part of an inland sea. Well, I guess it was really a saltwater lake.<br /><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lake_Bonneville">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lake_Bonneville</a><br /><br />The Great Salt Lake is Lake Bonneville’s remnant. <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Great_Salt_Lake">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Great_Salt_Lake</a><br />It’s salinity level can reach 25%. By comparison the oceans have an average salinity level of about 3.5%. Not much lives in the GSL besides brine shrimp (sea monkeys). You can’t sink in the lake. I don’t know this from experience though, it is not someplace I’ll be swimming any time soon.<br /><br />In the middle of the GSL is Antelope Island. <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Antelope_Island">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Antelope_Island</a><br />We, as a family have ventured to Antelope Island a few times, mostly when we have visiting family and a couple of times with school field trips. The island itself is incredible. Mountain Overlooks, Beaches and Prairies. Oh, and did you know there is a herd of Buffalo on the island?<br /><br />There is a trail in the Salt Lake Valley called the Bonneville Shoreline trail. On the east side of the Valley it marks the highest point of the long gone Lake Bonneville. It is a marvelous stretch to bike and hike. My family decided to hike it last Saturday night to watch the summer sunset.<br /><br />Oldest has a rock collection. He has been collecting these rocks for a couple of year. They have some interesting shapes and colors. This evening on our hike he announced he wanted to look for fossils. “Great! Go for it! If it makes you Happy!” were my thoughts on that announcement. As we hiked we encountered a rather large beetle, some teenagers on top of the H rock, a dog who was more interested in the scent he was following than us, a women who had moved here from Portland only a few days before and a rock to add to the collection.<br /><br />Oldest had ventured down to a lower trail. It was very narrow and by my guess not somewhere many people stop and look down at the ground. Many bikes and feet have been over this spot, but not many eyes. Oldest called me down to him, “I Found A Fossil!” I went to look and called to my husband.<br /><br />Oldest found a fossil! It is either a shell or a plant. I’m leaning toward a shell. We dug the rock out and have added it to the collection. A pretty cool addition for sure!<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--vYS8j3daW0/ThYaLaEdaiI/AAAAAAAAADY/YX2XUHjXc0g/s1600/Fossil.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 191px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626713567724923426" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--vYS8j3daW0/ThYaLaEdaiI/AAAAAAAAADY/YX2XUHjXc0g/s320/Fossil.jpg" /></a>lfghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17339578814257434093noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7437282614463071272.post-16373095895202419912011-06-03T05:53:00.000-07:002011-06-03T07:01:28.935-07:00ARK - Acts of Random KindnessSometimes I am amazed at where my thoughts go, but they always take me where I need to be. <br /><br />The other morning, as I was driving to work, my thoughts went in a direction I wasn’t prepared for. I was feeling down on the fact that I haven’t done much exercise lately. After my marathon, I was burned out, but at the beginning of this year I started going to some group classes. They were hard and I loved the challenge of them. Then, around March, I gave up sugar. I started to feel sick and it lasted a couple of weeks. I don’t know if it was my body protesting no sugar or if it was truly a virus. But I didn’t want to exercise so I didn’t. I’ve started adding exercise back, but not as much as I want. <br /><br />So I’m driving and all of a sudden I’m crying. I’m sad and embarrassed that my marathon time wasn’t better. What? Why this? Why now? It was an amazing accomplishment. I was proud of it, wasn’t I? Damn PMS!<br /><br />I pulled into my coffee place (Cafe Expresso on 900 S and 1100 E.) I love that place. I know all of them, not really by name, but I see them regularly, they remember my drink and always have a smile. <br /><br />Now, I go to this place at least once a week, and I’ve had my 26.2 sticker on the window for 6 months, but this was the first morning that anyone asked me about it. My coffee friend asked me if I had done a marathon. Why this morning? <br /><br />All of a sudden, I’m proud of my accomplishment again. Thank you. Thank you. We talked about it for a minute and then she was off to the next customer and I was off to work feeling good about me. It could have made me feel worse, if I would have let myself go there, but I didn’t. Kindness must be acknowledged. <br /><br />You get what you need, when you don’t expect it, but you have to be open to accepting it. <br /><br />Have you experienced an ARK lately that you’d like to share? I’d love to hear about it.lfghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17339578814257434093noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7437282614463071272.post-90543100260767164202011-06-02T05:45:00.000-07:002011-06-02T05:53:23.061-07:00Oh Baby!Yesterday I got to spend a couple of hours alone with Littlest. We went to the bookstore to get a couple of books. Littlest wanted to get a Chuggington book with his birthday money and I wanted to get <em>Mr. Popper's Penguins </em>to read to the boys before the movie comes out later this month. <br /><br />Our conversation in the car going to the bookstore went something like this.<br /><br />Littlest - Where are we going?<br />Me- To the bookstore.<br />L- Where is it?<br />M- You know where Barnes and Noble is.<br />L- Across the street from Oh Baby.<br />M- Where?<br />L- Across the street from Oh Baby<br />M- Old Navy?<br />L- No, Oh Baby!<br />M- Oh Baby?<br />L- Yes!<br /><br />Love that kid! XO<br /><br /><br />By the way <em>Mr. Popper's Penguin </em>is a great book.lfghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17339578814257434093noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7437282614463071272.post-40552459623008691362011-05-31T16:05:00.000-07:002011-05-31T16:06:38.404-07:00May I?<em><strong>May I tell you how much I am looking forward to summer?</strong></em> This year has been crazy and chaotic. Having kids at two different schools made for a huge challenge when trying to coordinate who needed to be where and at what time and who was taking them. Also having them both at co-oping schools made the challenge even bigger. Add on being 1 million miles, ok only about 1500 miles, from the nearest family member didn’t make it any easier. HEY! WHERE’S MY VILLAGE? Next year they are both at the same school. HOORAY! There will still be challenges, but they seem more manageable, at least they do now, ask me again in the fall. <br /><br /><em><strong>May I tell you how much I am looking forward to summer?</strong></em> Oldest is participating on swim team for the first time this summer. We started swim lessons with our boys when they were about 1 year old. My husband started them so early because he was afraid of water and didn’t learn to swim until he was an adult. He didn’t want his kids to miss out on all the fun stuff he did as a kid. We will be spending many hours at the pool this summer. I seriously cannot wait. <br /><br /><em><strong>May I tell you how much I am looking forward to summer?</strong></em> Vacation! I love spending time with my family in unstructured ways. Ok, so I structure vacation a bit. But we have fun spending time together. The hardest part about being a working mom is when my kids ask why I have to go to work. I give them the right answers and they seem to understand it, but on vacation, I don’t have to go to work. We can spend the whole day together discovering. It’s the absolute best!<br /><br /><em><strong>May I tell you how much I am looking forward to summer?</strong></em> Sunshine! Where is it? This May has been the rainiest I have known since moving to Utah. Bring on the 90’s and sunshine. <br /><br /><em><strong>May I tell you how much I love my family?</strong></em> They are the best things that have ever happened to me. <br /><br /><em><strong>I Love You Guys!</strong></em>lfghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17339578814257434093noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7437282614463071272.post-24729587179240385212011-05-09T14:50:00.001-07:002011-05-09T14:50:42.365-07:00Math and BirthdaysWe have been counting down to Littlest’s birthday. This is the first year he is over the top excited about it. I asked him this morning how many days until his birthday. I told him that today was the 9th. He paused for a second then exclaimed 10. <br /> <br />He’s been fascinated by numbers (and letters) for years. He could count to 10 early, even in Spanish. This past weekend at Oldest’s soccer game, I had him count to 100, 5 times, so I could spend a few minutes watching the game. He proceeded to circle a tree for the next 7 minutes or so counting diligently to 100 multiple times. (He even lowers his voice while counting the 70’s)<br /><br />Littlest turns 5 years old in ten days, the day after he “graduates” from preschool. Bring on Kindergarten.lfghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17339578814257434093noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7437282614463071272.post-33275277611228200552011-03-10T13:58:00.000-08:002011-03-10T14:04:02.001-08:00Those Eyes<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0nmjEnKLIjQ/TXlKru4X_SI/AAAAAAAAADM/YpjRqsE3g1c/s1600/Those%2BEYes.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0nmjEnKLIjQ/TXlKru4X_SI/AAAAAAAAADM/YpjRqsE3g1c/s320/Those%2BEYes.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5582575328281754914" /></a><br />I opened a drawer in my desk, found some old pictures and there was there were those eyes. <br /><br />Those eyes are big and brown. They are the deepest, richest brown I have ever seen. They are almost black. They are the first thing everyone notices. <br /><br />Those eyes are smart eyes. They are engaged, taking in everything. They see the world and how it works. They solve complex puzzles and then go in search of more challenges. <br /><br />Those eyes smile at you. They sparkle, they laugh. They play and tell jokes and crave fun. <br /><br />Those eyes cry too. Some of the biggest, wettest and most sincere tears I have ever known. <br /><br />Those eyes belong to Littlest. <br /><br />My heart belongs to him.lfghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17339578814257434093noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7437282614463071272.post-23812093903114748462011-02-01T13:43:00.000-08:002011-02-01T13:46:25.502-08:00Iago<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-b2GR2Uusrk/TUh-0oQ5pVI/AAAAAAAAADA/Eus1ROPuV-s/s1600/Photo_091210_001.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-b2GR2Uusrk/TUh-0oQ5pVI/AAAAAAAAADA/Eus1ROPuV-s/s320/Photo_091210_001.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5568840381870220626" /></a><br /><br /><br />I’m not sure how much longer you will be with us. <br /><br /><br />You’ve certainly made it longer than we thought you would when on Christmas Eve 2008 we found a huge tear in your skin. You have Cushing’s Disease. I didn’t even know what that was. You became a rock star at the Vet. The disease is incredibly rare and that clinic had never seen a case in cats before. The Doctors and staff fell in love with you as they tried to figure out how to control it. For 2 years you’ve been good. Everyone there knows your story just with the mention of your name.<br /><br /><br />You’ve been a wonderful friend. You helped Oldest discover his love for animals. Did you know that he gave up Birthday presents and asked his friends bring donations for an animal shelter? His smile when we delivered the food, toys and other things for the cats and dogs without homes was priceless. You gave him that generosity. He is going to miss you. Thank you for loving him and teaching him compassion.<br /><br /><br />I’m going to miss you too. One thing you are is vocal. You have told us when you were angry because we have left you, in good hands mind you, for vacations. You have a little quirk that is adorable. You crinkle up your nose when we rub your chin. You love to sleep at the foot of my bed and meow when I move, just to let me know you are there and not to kick you. <br /><br /><br />Last night your skin tore again. We rushed you to the vet and they kept you overnight. The vet called a little while ago and they are not able to sew it together to heal. We are going to bandage you up and bring you home tonight. We are awaiting the results on your Cushing’s test again. Sadly, I’m expecting the worst. I don’t know how I’m going to do this a second time in less than a month. <br /><br /><br />One thing I don’t want is for you to be in pain. Your eyes are still bright. When they start to fade, I’ll know. <br /><br /><br />I love you.lfghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17339578814257434093noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7437282614463071272.post-79405272281038535862011-01-11T05:51:00.001-08:002011-01-11T05:55:16.210-08:00Goodnight Desdemona<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-b2GR2Uusrk/TSxgoYiEYzI/AAAAAAAAAC4/agcohBO7O_4/s1600/Desi.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-b2GR2Uusrk/TSxgoYiEYzI/AAAAAAAAAC4/agcohBO7O_4/s400/Desi.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560925886792098610" /></a><br /><br /><br />Dear Desi<br /><br />You came into my life almost 17 years ago. It was during a time that I was very sad. My previous cat friend had just died in my arms a month earlier. J and I went up north to the farm to get you. My sister had picked you out for me.<br /><br />I loved you from the moment I saw you. You have beautiful black and white marking that resemble a cow and an endearing black mole to the left of your mouth. I knew right away that you would make a great friend. J and I didn’t want you to be lonely so we brought your brother home with us too. We named you Desdemona and your brother Iago. When most people heard your names they looked at me with curiosity. I would then offer them a dollar if they could tell me the origin of your names. No one could ever do it. Some people would guess it was Shakespeare but couldn’t pick the right play. It was a fun game.<br /><br />For almost 10 years you and Iago were my babies. The first summer you lived with us J bought you and air conditioner because the apartment we lived in didn’t have air conditioning and it was very hot. You guys were troopers moving first from Milwaukee to Madison and then across the country to Salt Lake City. You hate car rides and both you and your brother were very vocal all the way across Iowa, Nebraska and Wyoming. But we made it and you settled in nicely. <br /><br />I didn’t know how you would handle the new additions to the family, but you loved Oldest and Littlest. You were always shy, but never mean. <br /><br />When Iago got sick a couple of years ago, I thought for sure we would lose him, but he pulled through. I never thought I would be saying good-bye to you first, but here we are. You have kidney failure and have lost so much weight. Your sparkle is gone and you don’t jump up on our laps and give that gentle mew. You look sad and tired. <br /><br />Last night, you let the boys pet you and take pictures with you. I held you and cried and asked you to please let me know when it was time. I don’t want to see you go, but I’m ready. I know you will let us know when you are done. Thanks for your friendship and for being a part of our family.<br /><br />I love you baby girl.lfghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17339578814257434093noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7437282614463071272.post-72687674823466704442010-12-22T05:27:00.000-08:002010-12-22T05:28:49.213-08:00Once Upon a Time...Nearly every night at bedtime, my husband or I crawl into bed with the boys and read to them. We typically read chapter books and my husband is currently reading the first Harry Potter book to them. Last night my husband worked, and I didn’t want to read Harry Potter. I suggested to the boys that we make up a story, each of us taking turns and adding a few sentences. It could end up really funny. Oldest said, “Don’t make it about us.” Okay!<br /><br />Me: Once upon a time, two cats went to……<br /><br />Littlest: The Zoo!<br /><br />Oldest: No! Not the Zoo. The Cat Fun Center!<br /><br />He then proceeds to go on about roller coasters and having to jump off onto pillows and getting hurt.<br /><br />I then turn it over to Littlest, who is dead set on the zoo. <br /><br />Neither will give in to the other and each has their own story to tell. So I let them. I smiled the whole time. I love their imaginations.<br /><br />~Peacelfghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17339578814257434093noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7437282614463071272.post-53544221468795640322010-12-03T14:43:00.000-08:002010-12-03T14:54:58.923-08:00MARATHON<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-b2GR2Uusrk/TPl1H2EHglI/AAAAAAAAACo/J_Oqh-jH-Bo/s1600/Medal.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546593193715794514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-b2GR2Uusrk/TPl1H2EHglI/AAAAAAAAACo/J_Oqh-jH-Bo/s400/Medal.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>I did it on accident. Registering for a Marathon? Craziness! I meant to register for the ½ Marathon! There was no way I could finish a whole Marathon! Do you know how far that is? 26.2 miles. But, as I thought about it and my friends offered encouragement, I knew it wasn’t a mistake. My sub –conscious had other goals for me. </div><br /><div><br />I trained. I was slow. But really the only goal I had for this race was to finish. A dear friend who completed her first Marathon just a year before told me I would never look at a ½ the same way again. </div><br /><div><br />Saturday, November 14, 2010. Race day. I hadn’t slept well. I never do the night before. I got up, got dressed. A friend had told me that I should put my name on my shirt so that people would know who I was and offer encouragement. Great idea! In past races they have yelled, “Great job, Blue!” in reference the color of my shirt. So I put my name on my shirt. I kissed my kids and husband for luck and headed out the door. My father-in law, sister-in –law and nephew head to the start. My nephew is 14 and he ran the ½. (He rocked it!)</div><br /><div><br />Ready, Set, Go! </div><br /><div><br />I always start too fast, too fast for me. I get caught up in the crowd and can’t help myself. About a mile in my shins started hurting. This has happened in every race I’ve done. I just need to walk it out for a bit. As I’m walking I pass a group of people. No, jerks! Holding up signs, pointing and laughing. The signs said, “What part of running is walking?” At that moment, I hated that city, I hated that race. People are supposed to line the streets offering encouragement. I actually started to cry. I ripped my name off my shirt, pulled down my sunglasses even though I did not need them and tried to become invisible. </div><br /><div><br />Then, I got mad. I got mad at them for laughing. I got mad at myself for letting them affect my world. I’ve never felt like I fit in. I’m not popular. I never have been. But what I am is strong and tough. One thing I’ve learned about myself over the last 42 years is that I’m not a quitter. This is especially true when I’ve had people tell me I’m not good enough. I have to prove them wrong. I was going to finish this race no matter what. It wasn’t going to be fast, but I was going to cross that finish line with my head held high and get that finisher’s medal. </div><br /><div><br />My legs felt better and I started running again. There were crowds of people at Mile 3, I was starting to feel good about doing this again. Running by one of the Music Grandstands, the lead singer was offering up high 5’s. I took one. At mile 4 people were handing out Mardi Gras beads. I took some purple ones. At Mile 5 beer was offered, I didn’t partake. J At Mile6 was a boy looking shyly over a sign that said “Thank you.” (This race benefited the Susan G Komen race for the Cure. I cried again as I imagined his story.) At mile 7, a produce company was handing out bananas. I needed some energy. </div><br /><div><br />At Mile 8, I see my Father-in - law. Thank you. </div><br /><div><br />Mile 9, there are the beautiful faces of my boys, holding signs that say, “Great Job Mommy!” and “YOU ROCK!” They offer me kisses and ask if I need anything else. I say no, smile and am on my way. I feel really good. </div><br /><div><br />Mile 10.8. The Split! I’ve always taken the easy route (13.1) but this time I take the hard one (26.2). Wow! What happened to all the people? I look at a few of the marathoners who are walking and said, “Are you guys ready?” They said, “Let’s go!” and off we went. I look to my right and I see the marathon leaders hitting mile 23. I’m at Mile 11. This is going to be a long day. I mention to one of my fellow slow-pokes that the leaders were making me feel really slow. He told me not to think about them, this was my Marathon. </div><br /><div><br />My boys found me again at Mile 13. They gave me some fuel and I was off again. At mile 14 a young man with Down’s Syndrome was dancing to the music one of the bands was playing and giving out High 5’s. I took one. </div><br /><div><br />At Mile 15 I see my boys again. A woman running with me told me I had a beautiful family. I have an amazing family. I took my husband’s running jacket and we headed into the country. Mile 18, they are there again. And I see my boys one last time between 20 and 21. I’m on my own now until the end. Everything hurts. My back aches from the pounding. My knees hurt and my feet have blisters. I can’t stop. At Mile 21 there is that young man with Down’s Syndrome again. I cannot believe he is still there. I take another High 5. </div><br /><div><br />At about Mile 22 I start walking with Richard. He has an injury to his foot and he’s in a lot of pain. We talk and walk and agree to at least run through every mile marker. </div><br /><div><br />My Father-in –law meets me at Mile 25. He walks with me for a bit and says that it’s right around the corner. Not really, but that’s ok. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Finally, there is the Alamodome. We start running again. Everything hurts but we are almost done. Excuse me?! Uphill to the finish? </div><br /><div><br />There is my husband and my littlest. Littlest starts running with me, well he was faster than me at that point. We turn the corner, and there is the finish line. Off to my right is my family; My Mother-in law and her husband, my Sister-in law and my nephew, my husband and my Oldest.<br />Then, I hear my name announced and the guy told everyone I had just finished my first Marathon. How did the guy in the chute holding the microphone know who I was? It felt amazing and gave me strength. Littlest and I crossed with our heads held high, fists in the air and smile on our faces. Littlest accepted my medal for me. </div><br /><div><br />I did it! I finished a marathon. I Rocked!<br /><br />When’s the next race?<br /><br />ROCK ON!<br /></div>lfghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17339578814257434093noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7437282614463071272.post-18448494315960571462010-12-02T15:23:00.000-08:002010-12-02T15:25:54.493-08:00Keeping the Magic AliveMy oldest turns 7 next week, and it’s already happening. He is starting to hear his friends talk about the “Magic of Christmas” not being real. I’m going to have to work hard this year, it may be the last. I’m not ready for him not to believe. It makes me sad.<br /><br />My husband and I are lucky to be able to spend time at my son’s school every week. At school the other day during snack, one of his classmates asked the kids at the table what they were doing for Christmas. Then he said that Santa wasn’t real. His mom told him. My heart sank. How could she do that? He’s only 6. One of the other kids at the table agreed with him. “Santa’s not real. I know,” she proclaimed. <br /><br />My son looks at me with his eyes about to spill over and asks, “Mom he is real, isn’t he?” The other four children looked to me as well. My answer, “He is real to those who believe. I believe in him.” They looked so relieved. One of the girls said, “My mom even has his phone number!”<br /><br />We have a wooden Advent calendar with 24 numbered compartments. My husband bought some chocolate to put in it. He didn’t hide it and the boys found it in the cabinet. I’ve always told the boys the chocolate appears magically. Yesterday, on the 1st, I put in the chocolate my husband bought. Oldest knew right away and asked if I put the candy in there. I admitted that I had. I told him that I’d brought the calendar up late and had to put it in there. I then got some new, unidentifiable by him, chocolates to put in there. This morning he woke up and right away opened the calendar. Beaming from ear to ear he announces, “It really is magic.”<br /><br />See, he’s not ready not to believe in the magic of the season. <br /><br />I need to start thinking of creative ways to keep him believing. <br /><br />We have a Santa Key, because we don’t have a fireplace and he’s questioned how Santa gets in the house. Every Christmas Eve, we put the Santa Key outside our front door and every Christmas morning it key appears on the plate the cookies were on.<br /><br />I’ve had friends tell me they go outside and make reindeer prints on the snow. We read and watch Polar Express. We see Santa every year at the same place and it’s always the same Santa. I love that I have 6 pictures on my kids sitting with the same Santa.<br /><br />I’d love other suggestions. I need to keep the magic alive for a few more years. My littlest is only 4 and I’m really not ready for him not to believe.<br /><br />~Peace<br />And<br />Ho, Ho, Holfghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17339578814257434093noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7437282614463071272.post-82503041985620586242010-05-19T05:16:00.001-07:002010-05-19T05:33:51.573-07:00THe Stuff (Urban) Legends Are Made OfFour years ago yesterday, a friend of mine from work was leaving to start a new life in Hawaii. A bunch of us from work took her out for lunch at a local restaurant called Trio. There is an Urban Legend regarding this restaurant. It seems many very pregnant women have claimed that they have gone to the resaurant, eaten a certain dish and had their baby the next day. Right?!<br /><br />Four years ago yesterday, I was 1 week away from my due date for my Littlest. I was strongly urged by my friends to have that certain dish. I refrained. I didn't want to tempt fate. My mom wasn't going to be here for 3 days. I needed her here for Littlest's birth. I had something else for lunch.<br /><br />Later that night my husband was at work and I put Oldest to bed. I wasn't feeling well. Was I in labor? Not possible. I had had a doctors appoinment that morning and the doctor said see you next week. There was no way this baby was coming. <br /><br />As the evening progressed, I knew that there was no stopping this kid. He had a mind of his own and was ready to enter this world. I looked at the clock, it was 10:30 pm. I called my dear friend Mo, who was my back-up to stay with my Oldest if in fact Littlest came before my mom arrived. She came right over.<br /><br />What time was it now, 11:31. Oh good, deadline has passed. (Such a good journalists spouse I am, always concerned about deadline.) I called my husband and asked him to come home, we were having a baby. <br /><br />I remember kissing my Oldest good-bye and crying. Sad and Happy at the same time.<br /><br />We went to the hospital. About 6 hours later at 6:40 am Friday May 19, 2006 my littlest entered our world. I love you with every ounce of my being. Happy 4th Birthday!<br /><br />You are the stuff (urban) legands are made of.<br /><br />XOlfghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17339578814257434093noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7437282614463071272.post-5545961653299111012010-04-06T10:04:00.000-07:002010-04-06T10:06:31.069-07:00ContestSome blogger friends that I follow are having a contest because they just got their 500th follower. Wow! <br /><br />Check it out here.<br /><br /> <a href="http://lisa-laura.blogspot.com/2010/04/lilas-totally-epic-500-follower-contest.html">http://lisa-laura.blogspot.com/2010/04/lilas-totally-epic-500-follower-contest.html</a><br /><br />Thank you my 3 followers.lfghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17339578814257434093noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7437282614463071272.post-9133812767612132010-03-10T07:23:00.000-08:002010-03-10T07:25:17.242-08:00HappinessBirds are chirping.<br />Snow has melted.<br />Spending morning with my littlest at school.<br />Happiness.lfghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17339578814257434093noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7437282614463071272.post-1742791160010688402010-03-05T05:58:00.000-08:002010-03-05T06:20:02.594-08:00Spring?<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-b2GR2Uusrk/S5ESDFUBJ_I/AAAAAAAAACY/6DQE4KImqpQ/s1600-h/Heavy+snow.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445153268642686962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-b2GR2Uusrk/S5ESDFUBJ_I/AAAAAAAAACY/6DQE4KImqpQ/s400/Heavy+snow.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Two days ago we raked out the flower beds in the front yard because the tulips, crocuses and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">daffodils</span> are poking through. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Today, we are having a snow storm. It feels like a spring snow storm. Heavy, wet snow that clings to the tree limbs. I love them. The snow never lasts long on the ground. High temps for the week are supposed to be around 50 so we probably won't need to shovel. </div><div> </div><div></div><div>It sure is pretty! </div>lfghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17339578814257434093noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7437282614463071272.post-74243155140139753692010-02-15T10:26:00.000-08:002010-02-15T10:28:31.984-08:00band-aid<span style="font-family:lucida grande;">Some days are easier than others. <br /><br />I’m a problem-solver. As a wife, mother and employee that’s what I am. People come to me and expect me to figure out a way to make something, anything, everything work. Rarely am I asked how I am.<em> Wanna go for lunch, or coffee or a walk around the block?</em> Not likely. I’m often forgotten until you need something fixed or someone to help you figure out how to make whatever work. Just knock on my door, I’m the fixer. <br /><br />I’m not trying to sound like a complainer, because most of the time I’m not. Wag more, bark less. I try to live by that motto. But like I said, some days are easier than others.<br /><br />My kids always ask for a band-aid when they get hurt. Blood is not necessary. We have a vast collection of band-aids. Scooby-doo and Curious George are current favorites. Band-aids make it all better. <br /><br />Yesterday morning, my oldest gave me very long hug. It was what I needed at that moment. As he clung to me, his arms around my neck, he looked up at me and said, “Mom, I’m a band-aid.” I laughed. But he couldn’t have been more right on. My kids and my husband are my band-aid. They make it all better. </span><br /><br />~Peacelfghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17339578814257434093noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7437282614463071272.post-68508675283884509212010-02-10T09:54:00.000-08:002010-02-10T09:56:28.889-08:00Three Little BirdsMy littlest is a challenge. Stubborn and smart is a dangerous combination in a 3 year-old. He also has a speech delay and gets frustrated easily when people don’t understand him or don’t have the patience to understand him. He is in speech therapy and while it costs us a fortune because the health insurance doesn’t recognize it as medical problem, I know the financial sacrifices we are making are worth it for his confidence.<br /><br />At school he gets shy and struggles speaking in a group. We know that the social setting is so important for him to learn and grow, but it is hard for me as his mom. I spend the time he is at school wondering how he is doing, is he being understood, is he making friends. His teacher is incredibly supportive and I feel lucky to have her in our lives. He’s making improvements. We need to get him socially ready for kindergarten. Academically he is more than ready. Like a said, he’s smart.<br /><br /> But at home, it’s a different story. He talks a lot. He also loves to sing and we encourage it. His new favorite song is Three Little Birds by Bob Marley and the Wailers. He knows every word and melody. I love listening to his little voice sing “<em>Don’t worry ‘bout a thing. ‘Cuz every little thing is gonna be all right</em>.”<br /><br />My husband calls it his anthem. I gotta remember that.<br /><br />~<em>This is my message to you-oo- oo</em>lfghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17339578814257434093noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7437282614463071272.post-91755763282262498632009-12-09T05:21:00.000-08:002009-12-09T05:26:28.276-08:006 Years AgoI waited all day for you to start. I was ready. Late that night, well late for me, we left to begin the journey to meet you. I grabbed my bag and headed out into the cold December night. There was an overwhelming feeling of excitement and fear. What did you look like? Would you like me? We arrived at the place and they gave me a room. They tried to make me comfortable. They told me to get some sleep. You wouldn’t get there for a while yet.<br /><br />I didn’t sleep. I wasn’t comfortable. Hurry up! I’ve been waiting so long to meet you. I’ve known your name for years. I’ve dreamed of what you looked like. I need to see you, touch you, smell you, kiss you.<br /><br />Daylight broke and you were truly on your way. No turning back now. But, we were still hours away. Finally the urge came and I knew you were close. I worked so hard for you to get here. I was exhausted.<br /><br />Then, there you were. So much dark curly hair on you head. Very tall and big. I held you in my arms and knew that I would love you forever. You were my baby. You were perfect. I will fight for you and with you for the rest of my life.<br /><br />Happy Birthday to my Oldest.lfghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17339578814257434093noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7437282614463071272.post-54447484390891038072009-11-10T09:51:00.000-08:002009-11-10T09:54:07.402-08:00U Rah Rah!<em>"On, Wisconsin! On, Wisconsin! Plunge right through that line! Run the ball clear down the field, a touchdown sure this time. On, Wisconsin! On, Wisconsin! Fight on for her fame. Fight, fellows, fight, fight, fight! We'll win this game."</em><br /><br />I’m a band geek. I spend 8 years in a community marching band and 4 years in my high school marching band. I’ve been in countless parades and football game halftimes. I bet I have played that song thousands of times. A couple of weeks ago I pulled out my piccolo and after a couple of minutes could play it flawlessly from memory. That song gets my blood pumping. <br /> <br />I started college at the University of Wisconsin in the fall of 1986. I wanted to be in the marching band. But, I played the flute and piccolo. The UW marching band, because of their marching style, does not have a flute section. But I went to the tryouts anyway. I would try the cymbals. I’ve never played the cymbals, but I could march. <br /><br />That week of tryouts was hell. It was hot, humid and we spent hours on the field learning the marching style, which is a high step march. We then spent more hours in the band room, me not having a clue. I am not a percussionist. In the end, I didn’t make the cut. But I loved the experience and get excited every time I see the band march out onto the field. I still long to be out there during the 5th Quarter. <br /><br />The greatest fight song of all time turns 100 this week. <br /><br />Go Bucky!lfghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17339578814257434093noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7437282614463071272.post-29428363969501340982009-11-05T06:03:00.000-08:002009-11-05T06:22:59.368-08:00GoalsI started writing down some goals. I've been doing this for a few years. I recently looked at the list again and realized that I've accomplished most of the items on the current list. Time to add some more.<br /><br />But I did notice one goal on the list that has been there for a long, long time. I want to write. A book. Or something. I really haven't told many people beyond my husband that I even want to do this. But I really do. I guess that is why I started this blog in the first place. To work up the courage to actually do it. And to help me figure out if I am even any good at this writing thing. I don't have a much confidence in this area. I have ideas and have even started a few things. I think I'm afraid people won't like it. <br /><br />My friend Loretta is a writer and a blogger and I have been following her blog for months. I also read some of the blogs that she follows. One of those bloggers is sponsoring a writing contest. <br /><br />http://suzyhayze.blogspot.com/2009/11/contest.html <br /><br />I think this is my first step off the cliff. Or maybe my only step off the cliff. :)<br /><br />So I am doing this. I've actually written it, and will have my writer/editor husband make sure I've used commas correctly. I tend to overuse them.<br /><br />If nothing else comes of this, I can scratch that goal off my list.lfghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17339578814257434093noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7437282614463071272.post-51910087263935217022009-11-03T04:57:00.000-08:002009-11-03T05:20:51.380-08:00ThankfulNow that November has arrived my mind has turned to Thanksgiving. To be honest, Thanksgiving hasn't been a big deal for me for many years. Not sure why, probably because we live so far away from family and haven't created any family traditions on our own. (Except for the lasagna. This is because my husband cannot eat turkey. Allergies.) But this year I'm looking forward to it. I'm ready to start some traditions and really thankful.<br /><br />I read in a natural health magazine about keeping a Thankful/Grateful Journal. It encouraged people to write down daily something that they were grateful for that day. It could be big or as small as being grateful for that person who held the door open for them at the store. It mentioned that people who were thankful took better care of themselves and were more likely to workout regularly, eat right, sleep more and be happier.<br /><br />So I'm starting a journal. It will be paper and by my bedside. Perhaps I will share some of them.<br /><br />What am I currently thankful for? COFFEE<br /><br />peace~lfghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17339578814257434093noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7437282614463071272.post-25125610034813691492009-08-19T06:00:00.001-07:002009-08-19T06:11:38.582-07:00Chasing Butterflies<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-b2GR2Uusrk/Sov5x1Qy2lI/AAAAAAAAABI/Rt2DiVc3feo/s1600-h/sunflowerbutterfly.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-b2GR2Uusrk/Sov5x1Qy2lI/AAAAAAAAABI/Rt2DiVc3feo/s320/sunflowerbutterfly.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371661615075875410" /></a><br />Last night after dinner the boys begged to go outside. It was a beautiful evening, so we did. I pointed out a butterfly to them and they chased it around the yard. Giggling and tromping through the flowers, I couldn't help but smile and realize that we all need to take time to enjoy the very simple things in life. They got so much joy out of that butterfly. <br /><br />Oldest went to play with a little boy on the block for awhile and littlest played ball with dad for awhile. When it was time to go in I collected Oldest along with some sunflowers from the neighbor. Oldest was so excited about the sunflowers and Littlest actually took one to bed with him. With school starting soon, our family life will get chaotic. I hope to remember to chase butterflies on stressful days.lfghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17339578814257434093noreply@blogger.com2