Math and Birthdays

We 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.

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)

Littlest turns 5 years old in ten days, the day after he “graduates” from preschool. Bring on Kindergarten.

Those Eyes

I opened a drawer in my desk, found some old pictures and there was there were those eyes.

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.

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.

Those eyes smile at you. They sparkle, they laugh. They play and tell jokes and crave fun.

Those eyes cry too. Some of the biggest, wettest and most sincere tears I have ever known.

Those eyes belong to Littlest.

My heart belongs to him.

Iago

I’m not sure how much longer you will be with us.


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.


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.


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.


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.


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.


I love you.

Goodnight Desdemona

Dear Desi

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

I love you baby girl.

Once 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!

Me: Once upon a time, two cats went to……

Littlest: The Zoo!

Oldest: No! Not the Zoo. The Cat Fun Center!

He then proceeds to go on about roller coasters and having to jump off onto pillows and getting hurt.

I then turn it over to Littlest, who is dead set on the zoo.

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.

~Peace

MARATHON

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.

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.

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!)

Ready, Set, Go!

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.

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.

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.

At Mile 8, I see my Father-in - law. Thank you.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Finally, there is the Alamodome. We start running again. Everything hurts but we are almost done. Excuse me?! Uphill to the finish?

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.
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.

I did it! I finished a marathon. I Rocked!

When’s the next race?

ROCK ON!

Keeping the Magic Alive

My 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.

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.

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!”

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.”

See, he’s not ready not to believe in the magic of the season.

I need to start thinking of creative ways to keep him believing.

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.

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.

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.

~Peace
And
Ho, Ho, Ho