SLC Half Marathon 2013 Race Recap

My first running event since last year's marathon and The Big Injury was an official success.  Hooray!  Running is awesome.  This is my third or fourth time running the SLC Half Marathon, and my sixth or seventh total Half (Is it weird that I can't remember?  I also can't remember all of my finishing times.  Going slowly crazy, me.). 

Here are a million wordy details of how it all went down for me:

The conditions:
Rainy!  Rainy and 40 degrees from start to finish.  I fussed about my choice of clothing the night before the race.  Then I had running anxiety dreams all night.  I dreamt that I had to stop mid-race to remove my jacket and repin my bib for 30 minutes, which just killed my changes for a PR. I woke up in the morning and decided to ditch the jacket completely and run in two t-shirts (one short sleeve, one long sleeve) and running capris.  Perfect choice for the conditions.

Getting to the start line:
The Trax train I rode to the start line was packed to the brim with people.  We smashed in like sardines, veeerrrrry uncomfortably close with all the strangers around us, until they stopped the train a couple stops from the start line and made us all get off so the train could be searched by police with dogs.

At the start line:
The runners were surrounded by security.  There were police cars, fire trucks, and a bomb squad car.  National guard were walking around among the runners.  Totally surreal.

The race committe decided to honor the victims of the Boston Marathon Bombing by passing out wrist bands for us to wear through the race.  We observed a 30 second moment of silence at the start of the race, and then they played Sweet Caroline as we began running.  I didn't know that song was a Boston Thing until now, but it felt significant, and I still have it running through my head.  I liked it before, but I think it will always be a favorite song of mine now.

The Run:
I wish I could say it was a great run for me.  It wasn't.  I suffered through the entire thing!  I'm blaming it on altitude.  My diaphragm muscle cramped up in the middle of the first mile(!!!), and I could hardly breathe for the first four miles!  It felt like such a bummer.  I went out with a PR in mind, and I felt myself slowing up because I just couldn't get enough breath.  But a couple of water breaks were helpful, and I was able to stay on track.

There were 7000 runners in this event.  There were pace groups at the start line, but it really felt like everyone ignored them.  I felt crowded for the ten miles.  I was constantly fighting for space to run and dodging and passing people almost the entire run.  Kind of annoying.

The last four miles were rough.  I'm still blaming the altitude.  I was on pace for a good PR, but struggling.  I was so tired, my calves were cramping up, and I needed a distraction.  So I started up a conversation with a guy who happened to be running by me at the time.  And let me tell you, he was my Race Savior!  He talked and provided the perfect distraction.  I found out that he is a physician living in Boise.  We talked about medical school and medical life.  When he found out what my goal time was, he said, "Oh, you'll make it!  Just stick with me!"  I wish I could have, but I had to slow up for the last mile.  What a nice guy.  I saw him after, and I think he came in a minute or two ahead of me.

I finished tired but strong (I love feeling the technique carry me through).  My sisters and Dad were at the finish line, standing in the cold and rain, cheering me on.  Offical Time: 1:53:16.  A PR of about 5 minutes (the last one of 1:58 set in Sept. 2011 at the Pocatello Half Marathon).  I seriously couldn't be happier with it, although I know that it's going to be a hard time for me to beat next time.

After:
I got so cold after I stopped running.  So cold.  My running clothes were completely drenched.  I shivered for a couple of hours afterwards. 

My calves and the tops of my feet got really sore afterwards.  Sore like, here is a flight of stairs, and I can't walk down it!  Aaagh!  I normally don't calf pain.  I rested for a few days, and then went on a short jog yesterday to loosen things up.  My calves immediately cramped up again.  Ow!  I think it's all related to my orthotics breaking, and now I'm running without them, and my legs are in a transition phase.  Spiff thinks I have some minor muscles tearing in my calves now that will need some time to heal.  Blah.  Being injured stinks, and I don't like having to rest.


Some things that made this event so great for me:
I watched my awesome friend, Lindsey, finish her very first half marathon! So excited for her and proud of her!

I have always enjoyed this event, but there was a change in event administration this year, and I liked it even more. The course was changed for the better (I loved running through Sugarhouse Park and ending the race at Liberty Park, instead of running into downtown), and the money allocated more efficiently, which included a big bonus for me--a decent race t-shirt, which is not the oversized monstrosities from previous years that sit in my drawer as nothing more than a momento.

I loved running through SLC this time. This is the first time I have run the race after living in SLC. I loved running through my old stomping grounds, my old training routes. It felt so familiar, yet fresh and awesome since it has been a year since I have run there. Awesome training memories from running in SLC!!!

In the wake of the Boston Marathon Bombings, this race was an emotional experience for me.  No crying, or anything, I was just moved by it.  I have followed every piece of news about that horrific event.  I was not directly affected by it, but it is so close to my heart.  The Boston Marathon is the pinacle of running accomplishments, a celebration of the human spirit, and it was such an offensive venue for terrorism.  Despite all of that, I saw something amazing happen as I participated in this event:

I saw thousands of runners out there who showed up and performed with enthusiasm, refusing to be intimidated by terrorists.  I saw people on the sidelines throughout the entire course, standing in the rain and cold, cheering for us with "We Heart Boston" signs.  This is a community of people who truly celebrate the joys of the human spirit, and I am honored to be a part of it.

Running is awesome.  I can't wait for my next race.

Conversations with My Boys

A friend recently and very generously shared a candy-filled Easter egg with Hobbes.  Hobbes experienced a 2-year-old love affair with nerds-covered jelly beans, and ever since then has expressed feelings of a strong kinship with this friend.  The other day, I found him putting his coat and boots on and getting ready to walk out the front door.

Me: Where are you going, Hobbes?
Hobbes: Uh, going Greggie's house.  More Easser egg.  More candy.

Sorry, Greg.  He may only love you for your candy.

---

As we were leaving a birthday party, with several witnesses milling about:

Brother M: (Teasingly) Gunner, are you riding your camel home?
Gunner: (Without missing a beat) No, it's at home with my dad.
Brother M: Well, don't forget to take your gold, frankincense and myrrh.
Gunner: (Confusion setting in) Uh, What the heck?!

---

This week, I witnessed Hobbes bravely (and seemingly absentmindedly) walk away from me at the library.  I watched him go, wondering when he would feel uncomfortable that I wasn't around.  I became uncomfortable long before he did.  I ran after him and caught up as he was walking out the front door.

Me: Where do you think you're going?
Gunner: Home.  I done.

Hmmm...It would have been a long walk.

Fear of Flying

The boys and I are going on a trip on Monday.  We are super excited to see friends and family to do special fun things.  I will be extra excited after I have a large chunk of items crossed off my mile-long prepping-for-the-trip-to-do list.  So much to do!

But for now, I'm experiencing a fear of flying.  I haven't had to fly on a commercial flight for about 2 1/2  years (totally lucked out on that one), not since Gunner was still a lap child.  Hobbes has never been on a plane.  Spiff is staying home to work, so I'll be doing this alone.

I looked online last night for tips for flying with young kids.  Mostly, I was looking for fun game and entertainment ideas for the kids.  But what I got was stories like this one, which made me terribly afraid to take my kids on a plane!  Not that I think someone is going to slap my kid, but I guess it's not out of the realm of possibilities.  Other possibilities running through my head are that Hobbes runs away and gets lost in the airport.  Can you say "Loose Cannon", folks?  Because that's what he is.  I lost him in the library the other day.  Keeping track of him in an airport is going to be tricky, to say the least.

So, I'm looking for ideas.  Real ones.  Ones you use with your kids.  What works to keep your kids happy(ish) and cooperative(ish) in the airport and on the plane.
Friends, help me get through this, please!

What we have:
We all have our own seats on the plane.
We have a layover.
The boys each have their own backpack.
I have my Ipad.

Questions I have:
How do I get all my stuff (carseats, luggage, etc.) from the car to the check-in?
How do you handle food/snacks/meals?
How do you decide what to bring in carry-on bags in order to be prepared for all possibilities, without bringing too much to carry?

And please enlighten me on all things I haven't thought of.
Thanks ahead of time!  My love to you all (all eight of you)!

I am Inspired By...

I have come across a few new-to-me food blogs in the past few days that I seriously love.  They are the kind of websites that I can lose myself in for hours.  They feature food that looks great, but really I just love their writing styles.  I love that they are both passionate about food and family, and secretly, I want to be their friend.  Check them out for a little dose of inspiration.

In the Little Red House  (They go on adventures, like I dream about doing.)

Dinner: A Love Story (She is a writer.  He is an editor.  I love what they say together.)

I laughed out loud at these two articles, here and here.

Enjoy!

---

What are your current favorite online reads?

My Heavenly Father Loves Me

I love this weekend every year.  I adore General Conference weekend and the opportunity to hear our beloved Prophet and his general authorities speak about the truth of the restored Gospel of Jesus Christ.  It has been a breath of fresh air to me this time around.  Truth is truth, and there is no way around it.

I cherish these times when I feel the Spirit and can feel my testimony growing, when most of the time I tend to feel lazy, overwhelmed by every day tasks, and outside of the Lord's watchful eye.  Here is a very lengthy account of a testimony-building experience.  I'm writing it down because I want to remember.

Spiff lost his wallet this week.

He noticed it was missing just before we went to bed.  He started to retrace his steps and look in all of the obvious places.  When he couldn't find it easily, he involved me, and we initiated a search of our house and our memories of the evening, which went like this:

Spiff got a car wash on his way home from work, parked the car in the driveway, then we all hung out for the remainder of the evening.  He read to Gunner on the couch while I took Hobbes for a walk.  We ate dinner.  We put the kids to bed.  He studied.  End of story.  Not a lot happened, and we couldn't fathom how the wallet could have gone too far.

My reaction to these situations is to clean.  I began to pick up the mess I had been ignoring, searching while I cleaned and organized.  We both looked in the car several times.  We looked on the couch.  We looked in, under and around the couch.  We looked in coat pockets.  We had the thought that perhaps our mischievous toddler walked off with it and hid it, so we searched the toy room.  We entertained the idea that it had been stolen out of the car while it was parked outside the house.  We checked the bank account.  No activity.  We sighed relief and hoped it wasn't true. How could it have just disappeared?

It wasn't turning up, but knowing we both had a long day ahead of us, we gave up and went to bed.  We woke early, Spiff went to work, and I continued to search.  I was certain the wallet had fallen into some laundry, so I folded some laundry.  No luck.  I went through the dirty laundry baskets, certain it was placed there by accident.  Still no luck.  I started searching through drawers.  I looked in every drawer and cupboard in the kitchen.  I searched the kids room.  I searched the garbage.

Every nook and cranny in the house.

No wallet.

At that point, I panicked.  The contents of our wallets are so important, so personal, so all-encompassing.  So debilitating if missing.  What does one do without it?  What if it really had been stolen out of the car, which was on our driveway, in our very safe and quiet neighborhood?!  I called the bank to cancel his cards.

I remembered countless stories of people who had lost important items, who humbled themselves, who got down on their knees and prayed for help finding this or that.  Every story had a happy ending.  They prayed, they opened their eyes, then miraculously found their treasure.  Easy peasey.

So I prayed.  And I prayed again.  And again.

I often feel like my prayers are not answered.  I often feel as if I am not significant enough for God's attention.  I guess I am a skeptic at heart.  I am a faithful person, but I know I am not even close to perfect in action or attitude.  It makes sense to me that Heavenly Father would rather answer some other, more faithful person's prayer.

But I prayed.


Spiff got home from work early, and we continued to search with no luck.  We systematically searched everywhere we could think of.  Why wasn't my prayer being answered?  I hadn't looked up and miraculously seen the wallet shimmering in the sunlight on top of the dresser where we happened to forget to look.

Spiff decided to give up.  We were on our way out the door to go to the DMV to replace his driver's license.

The thought kept occurring to me, "Keep looking.  Keep looking keep looking keep looking."

Okay, we'll keep looking.  But where?!

Spiff made one last trip to search the car.  (How many times had we looked in the car?  At least ten already.)

And he found the wallet.  It had fallen between the passenger seat and door.

I was so relieved that I cried. I also cried in thankfulness that the Lord does in fact hear me.  He knows me, and He did answer my prayers.  He didn't tell me where to look, but He did ask me not to give up.

To me, it's even more than an answer to this prayer.  It is a lesson for my life.  Keep looking.  Keep Going.  Stay vigilant in following God's commandments and standing up for the things that are right and good.  Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ are here to be my ultimate support system in all trials.  They want me to succeed and to be happy.  They love me.

I am grateful.  Today, my testimony is rock solid.  I love the Gospel.

Now, I'm off to listen to conference.  My heart is full.

Happy Easter Fool's Day

Spiff was on Weekend Call the past few days.  For the uninitiated (most of us), that means that he was on call overnight on Friday, then again for 24 hours on Sunday, from 7 a.m. Sun. to 7 a.m. on Monday.  That meant that the boys and I celebrated Easter alone.  We had a great little time together, opening Easter baskets, hunting for eggs, dying eggs, eating candy by the bucketful (it seems, anyway), and playing with New Toys!  We also read the Easter story in the scriptures and enjoyed church together.

It was weird when Spiff got home this morning and asked, "How was your Easter?"  So strange not to even see him on a holiday.  Such a weird life we lead.

Anyway, since he wasn't going to around on Easter, we decided to have a special dinner on Saturday night.  Since I happened to have a turkey in my freezer, I made a turkey dinner, complete with stuffing (which didn't turn out...total bummer for me) and pie.  I spent all day in the kitchen, and it was a fun evening with friends, and the food was delicious.  And I was cured of any and all desire to be in the kitchen for long stretches of time for a good six months.  I cannot believe the amount of work that one meal is!  It is definitely a multiple-person job.  Yikes.

Here's a side note:  I realize that it's sort of tradition for people to make a ham on Easter.  But I was also under the impression that it is sort of an open food holiday.  Am I wrong about that?  My family never had a strict meal plan for Easter.  Sometimes it was ham, sometimes chicken, etc.  My dinner confused people.  Every time someone asked about my Easter dinner plans, and I would tell her that I was making a turkey, and every single person gave me a look that said, "You are crazy!  Where is your ham?!"  I don't get that.

So Easter was great, even though it was cold, and there is still snow on the ground, and it was Spiff-less.

Then today is April 1, and to continue our weekend-long holiday fest, this afternoon, Spiff decided to teach Gunner in the ways of Poisson D'Avril (remember this?).  They were very sneaky and stuck a fish to my back as I was doing the laundry.  The little prank sent Gunner into fits and giggles of delight!  He then had to sneak around and stick fish to Spiff's back as he played the piano.  We discovered that Gunner is the world's worst sneaker because he giggles the entire time.  Hilarious!

Their little joke, this one and this one got me into spirit of April Fool's Day, and I got sneaky myself.  I used some leftover pie dough, raided the kids' Easter candy, and cooked up a little something special for Spiff for dinner.  Take a look at this little baby!

Backstory:  Every time I ask Spiff if there is anything he would like to be on our weekly menu, without fail (I'm not kidding.  It is every single time.) he responds, "Jelly Bean Pie."

Here is his very own Jelly Bean Pie!  I'm a genius!

And the kids were totally jealous.

I have officially "won dinner" for the next century.

And then, since I'm so funny, I used some leftover mashed potatoes from Saturday's dinner and served the kids some "dessert."  It looks pretty good, huh?!

They were not amused.  

Well, not until we pulled out the real ice cream from the freezer.  I'm so funny.

Thank you, Turkey Dinner.  I couldn't have done it without you.

***

The icing on the cake today when I was reading scriptures to the kids at bedtime.  

Gunner asked, "Can we read the one about the Joking Day?"

Because when there's a holiday, there must be a scripture story to match.

Learn How to be a Better Caker

Here is something fun and exciting.

I got adventurous and signed up for an online Cake Decorating Class through Craftsy called Clean and Simple Cake Designs by Jessica Harris. 

It is an awesome class!  I love Jessica Harris's design style, and she is a great instructor.  She gives great tips and information about how to make and work with marshmallow fondant, modeling chocolate, how to cover cakes with buttercream and fondant, and some fabulous techniques on how to easily decorate beautiful cakes.  No matter your skill level, if you are interested in cake decorating at all, it is an incredible resource.

Here is a link for 50% off the class.

It is ah-may-zing.  Here's to better and happier caking!

Make Me Laugh

I'm feeling a smidge bitter about all the snow and cold we have.  Three weeks in a row with piles of snow to shovel, and single digit weather has got me down.  So...

To brighten a ridiculously cold beginning of Spring, here are some funny things my kids say:

You thought this vehicle is called an Armored Car.

You are wrong.

According to Gunner, it is an "Armored Personality Truck."

It makes me laugh every time.  I have no idea where he got that idea.

Oh, Spiff just informed me that he got that name from an Armored Personnel Carrier.

That makes sense.

It's still funny.

Hobbes occasionally calls me "Momminee."

I think it's a great combination of Mommy and Mindy.

We were having a Star Wars day yesterday.  We marched to some Star Wars music, and Gunner narrated some detailed scenarios straight out of the movies.

Then out of the blue, he said, "Leia (he's talking to me!), I've got a baaad feeling about this."
I love my little Star Wars kid.

Hobbes is sweet and funny, and he has 1 million hard-to-understand words.

Here's a short list.  His sweet little words make me laugh:

Huh-vie: shovel
Hock: Sock

Hoot: Shoe

Ho-ha: Salsa

O-ha: Elsa

Bobbiya: Lollipop

Tal-kin (his name)

Dame (his brother)

Doctoh Dadjee (his father)

Cack-oo: pancake

Baybo: baseball

Wah-yoo: I love you

Wah, Yo, Ga-daaah! (3,2,1, blastoff)

Hubbie, Go!: Ready, Go. 

Tintin No-wee: Tintin's dog Snowie

Cud: Squeeze

Cackuko: a pair of pajamas with heavy machinery on them. 

That's about it for my kids today.  

For a few more laughs, Here's a funny and shocking soccer video.  

I wish more sports were like this.  

It seems like it might even the odds for terrible ball players like myself.

Some Stuff About Running

I haven't talked about running recently, not since the marathon, really.  I had a hard recovery from my injury.  I spent the Summer doing workout videos in my living room.  As I got feeling better, I spent the fall pushing the kids around town on stroller runs.  Then it got cold.  Cold enough and icy enough that no amount of weather shield, heated rice bags, coats, hats, boots and blankets was going to be good enough to take my kids out in the stroller, so I stopped running for a few months.

I worked out on Spiff's new rowing machine, which is a great workout.

But then I signed up for the Salt Lake City Half Marathon in April (Gah!!!  I'm so excited!), and it kept being cold and icy outside.  So we bought this:

I really don't think I could be more in love with a piece of indoor exercise equipment.  I LOVE this machine.  It is fabulous and oh, so convenient.  But I really love that I can run and train, whether or not Spiff is working or the kids are sleeping.

So, my hip is finally healed now (thank goodness!), and I'm in the middle of my Half training, and my first 10-miler rolled around a couple weeks ago.  It was cold and icy outside, so I chicken-out on the outdoor run, and I ran the whole thing on the treadmill.  It was long and hard, but fine.  I watched a movie while I ran.  I picked up the speed near the end because I was tired of being on the treadmill, but it was fine.

The strangest thing was knowing that I had run a long distance, but really hadn't gone anywhere.

So when the next long run came around (just a 6-miler this time), I was determined to get outside and run.  I did, despite the warnings from Gunner who told me it was too icy to run outside.  He was right.  It was too icy.  I slipped and slid all around the paths and sidewalks.  I thought I would break an ankle.  Oh, and it had been raining, and the snow was melting, and I had to trudge through 2-inch-deep icy puddles.  So, my feet were wet and cold, I was sloshing with every step, and I was sliding around, and miserable, and cursing the fact that I had felt adventurous and determined to get fresh air.  It really was so awful for two miles (think 2 miles in 25 minutes) until I decided to ditch the sidewalks and just run on the road.  I'm sure the drivers were cursing me, but I felt safer and happier, and faster (last 4 miles in 35 min.), even though my feet were still wet and sloshy.  Blech, those are my very least favorite running conditions.

So, anyway, we have had the same weather this week.  Piles of snow earlier this week, and by the weekend it is raining, and freezing rain in places.  I'm already trying to think of a good movie to keep me company during tomorrow's Treadmill 10-miler.

In other running news, though, is the fact that I found a new running partner!  A friend from my ward.  I ran with her for the first time the other night, and it was really fun.  We will probably run once a week together.  But it was so fun to run with someone again, and I was feeling so happy, and then got home and realized that this happened:

That is my 13-year-old orthotic, the ones I wear in my running shoes since having foot surgery when I was in college, cracked in two.  Total bummer!  I'm hoping to replace them with a running-specific shoe insert.  I'm hoping I really don't need them all that badly. 

Anyway, despite the issues, I'm happy to be back on my feet and back in training, working on a goal, and getting in better shape.  Running Rocks!

March in Minnesota

Someone warned me that March is Minnesota's snowiest month.  Good thing I had warning because we have had a whole lot of snow in the last two weeks.

 It's hard to believe that my sister, Mhana, is cutting flowers from her garden in Oregon while we are shoveling six inches of snow.  It's like we live in two different worlds.

Here's my driveway after the first time we shoveled snow this morning.  It was so wet and heavy.  I am grateful that Spiff got out first and did half of the driveway before leaving for work.  Then my next door neighbor (who is generally not so nice) surprised me by snowblowing out our sidewalk and the end of the driveway for me.  Maybe he's nicer than I thought.  But that all meant that it took me 45 minutes to shovel this morning, instead of two hours.  

Now I get to go out and shovel the latest two inches that fell since the morning.

I swear that our driveway gets bigger every time it snows.

Get a Little Food Inspired

A friend suggested that I post my favorite meal of the week occasionally.  Don't mind if I do, folks!  I have an intense food obsession these days.  I read food blogs in my free time like nobody's business.  I am constantly pouring over new and better dinner ideas and planning planning planning my menus.  It's a funny obsession, since I adore food, and my children would rather not eat any of it.  The mainstay of Hobbes's diet these days is trail mix and grapefruit.  Gunner would prefer crepes and quesadillas every day.  They both hate almost everything else.

So I try to make delicious food with the hopes that Spiff and I will enjoy it, that it will help us be healthy (most of the time), and it will save us money that we don't have to spend at a restaurant.  I believe that good food is one of the greatest gifts from God, and that it is meant to be enjoyed.  And while I don't always enjoy preparing and cleaning up every meal, I really do take pleasure out of creating delicious food.  I love eating well at home.

Soooo, on to the good stuff!  I don't have any pictures of my own, but here are a few of my favorite meals we have enjoyed in the last few weeks.  Make them and love them.  We sure did!

Chicken Noodles--My FAV!!!
I always double the chicken, marinade and sauce.  And I threw in some sugar snap peas with the veggies.  It's so good, I'm drooling just thinking about it.

Caribbean-Style Pork paired w/ Sweet and Savory Coconut Rice.
Top with green onions and chopped cashews/peanuts.  Such a fantastic combination!
(A note about the pork--It may need to be cooked with the green onions in the crock pot, but they got wilty and gross-looking, so I picked them out, and then served it with fresh cut green onions.  Problem solved.)

We tried going to Chipotle for lunch a couple weeks ago, but decided against it when we got there and discovered a line going out the door.  We settled on making our own burritos and burrito bowls at home with this Crock Pot Pork Carnitas, Cilantro Lime Rice, Black Beans and guacamole.  I loved the pork.  It packed some serious flavor. 

I hope you're even a little inspired now.  Just looking at the beautiful photos of the food from these blogs is enough to get me excited.

Now if you'll excuse me, I gotta go make something delicious.

Unpleasant Realities

I recently took both of my kids in for well-child check-ups.  They are both the greatest examples of health, a fact that I am extremely grateful for.  I wrote about Hobbes's check-up, if you remember. (Can you forget?)  It was long and logistically unpleasant, but apparently it made a large impact on Gunner's little mind.  Hobbes got so much attention during that appointment!  And shots!  Those were exciting!  So, when I told him we were going in for his appointment, he was thrilled.  We had an afternoon appointment, and he could hardly stand to wait all day.  He was especially excited about the prospect of getting shots of his own.  I made sure to remind him of when he got shots as a baby, and he was so brave that he didn't even cry.

He was an angel at his appointment.  He was excited to sit on the exam table.  He happily cooperated with the nurses and doctors, and he eagerly answered all of their questions.  When it came time for his shots, he did just what the nurse suggested.  She instructed me to hold his arms firmly.  He told her that he didn't need me to because he is so brave.  Of course, I did anyway.

And when she put the first (of five) needles in his leg, he said, "OW!!!"

Completely betrayed.

"Ow ow ow ow ow!!!"

He cried so hard that he burst blood vessels in his face.

But he didn't struggle.  He still cooperated.  I am so proud of him.

We had a long talk on the way home about why he had to have shots, what vaccinations are, and why they are so important.  It is a hard concept for a 4-year-old that one small shot is way better than getting very sick.  And it is hard on me as a mom to remember that it is so important when my child is feeling so sore and betrayed, and surprisingly harder for me as Gunner has gotten older and understands what's happening to him.

But it is.  And I am grateful for vaccines.

I think the funniest part of the experience was when we got home.  Gunner was a wreck.  "Mom, my legs hurt.  I need you to carry me into the house."  "Mom, I need you to carry me down the stairs."  "Mom, when I lift my leg like this, it hurts."  "Mom, I need you to carry me into my bed because my legs hurt and I can't walk."  "Mom, when it hurts when I touch my leg right here."

And the pièce de la résistance:
"Mom, I thought the shots would be fun.  But they were Not!"

Poor guy.  Good thing he heals quickly.  And he was completely fine the next day.

Super Powers

Gunner likes to read a few books in his bed sometimes after we put him to bed, to help him settle down. Tonight, he decided to read every book in his bookcase, for an hour. He was obviously not ready to go to bed earlier. Anyway, he finally told me he was ready for me to turn his light off. I had to clear a mountain of books off his bed to make room for him to lie down. While I did this, he found an unread book. Then we had this conversation:

G: I'm just going to read this one last book.
Me: I am going to turn the light off soon, so you should probably read that tomorrow.
G: It's okay, I can read in it in the dark.
Me: Hmmm, I'm not sure about that.
G: Yes, I can. I have x-ray vision.

Boop Bap

So, I decided today that I am not a stay-at-home-mom.  I am, in fact, running a circus.  I'll explain.

The boys and I have not had the best of weeks.  There has been a whole lot of naughty from the boys, and whole lot of grumpy from me.  We took a "home day" on Monday where we stayed in our jammies all day and attempted to clean the house.  Very little of the house got clean between all of the fighting, crying and whining that happened all day.  The reason for all of this nonsense, I think, is that it is the end of February.  It's cold outside (it was 5 degrees yesterday), so no one wants to be outside.  The snow is old, and no one wants to play in it.  We have cabin fever, and so we are naughty and grumpy...and miserable.

Examples of naughtiness/general reasons for mom to be grumpy:
1.  My visiting teachers came for a visit, and Gunner went wild with excitement!  Wild!  I tried to get him to calm down, and he repeated refused to obey for a full hour and fifteen minutes.  He caused quite the scene, and he is now grounded from all beloved things (Ipad time, movies, dessert/candy/gum) for a week.

2.  Hobbes has become very opinionated about his clothing.  He changed his clothes at least five times a day.  His preferred clothing is pajamas, specifically a pair of green Summer jammies (short sleeve, short pants) with a Monkey rowing a boat that is shaped like a banana.  When he finds these pajamas (in his drawer, in my bedroom, in the dryer, anywhere at all), he insists on putting them on.  He refuses to wear a coat or long pants if he is wearing these jams and we are going outside (see comment about it being 5 degrees).  He refuses to wear socks unless he chooses them.  We have had hour long fights trying to get this kid dressed.  In fact, we fight about it almost every time we get him dressed these days, and extra awesome when he hides in a corner afterwards and takes everything off again.  It's exhausting.

So, after our miserable home day on Monday, I had a full day out of the house planned for Tuesday.  We got ourselves dressed for the day (this included four changes of clothing for Hobbes.  Four!!!  By 9:30 a.m.), and got out to the van, only to discover that the kids' car seats were in Spiff's car.  Spiff would be at work until 7 p.m.  Our day, and our hopes for fun and general happiness, were shot.  I felt so defeated as I realized that I would be alone with the kids again, all day. 

That's when the messages went out to my friend.  We're stuck at home.  Please come over!  Thankfully they did.

And then there was today.  It started off with a fight to get Hobbes to wear clothes.  He compromised by carrying his pajamas around like a blankie to cuddle in the car on the way to the doctor for a well-child check for Hobbsie.  It is the first time we have been to this doctor's office, so it took a long time.  Like two hours.  Ugh.  Papers to fill out, questions to answer, kids to entertain, more papers to fill out, more questions to re-answer, hand-outs to juggle, bored kids to calm down.  Two hours!  It's way worse than making it through sacrament meeting.

And then there was Hobbes who was instructed to be in just a diaper for his exam.  This kid who is so particular about his clothing is supposed to be naked for two hours.  I juggled all of the above while he tried every sneaky tactic to put his clothes back on.  But then by the time it was actually time to get his clothes on before the shots, he was too tired and hungry to cooperate, so we got to have another little fight.  Awesome.  Then the shots are always a joy.  Poor little guy.

When we were finally done at the doctor's office, I rewarded the kids for their patience with a trip to the library.  While we were there, Hobbes messed his diaper.  Upon changing it, I discovered a massive blowout.  Sigh.  Anyone who has changed a 2-year-old blowout on a public bathroom changing table can sympathize with me about the horrors of juggling flailing hands, kicking legs, travel wipes, and messy clothing.  Oh, so hard.  Oh, and then it is 8 degrees outside, so we're all wearing coats and boots.  But it's not cold inside, and it gets especially warm while I'm wrestling my kid while wearing my coat.  So hot!  So hot and so so so hard!

And here is little Hobbes, who hates getting dressed on a good day, being forced out of his clothes for the third time of the day, and wondering what has happened to his pants!  The best I could do was put his pooped-on onesie and pants in a plastic bag, put his shirt and coat on him, and get us on our way.

So there we are, making our little way out of the library, by way of the book check-out (imagine me juggling the boys who are wandering every direction while I desperately try to check out books with super-speed), with my little son in nothing but a coat, diaper, bare legs and boots.  Oh, the looks we got!

Good thing I had Hobbsie there to clarify things for people.  He explained to every passer-by why he didn't have any pants.  "Boop, Bap!" (I pooped in my pants!)

And that, my friends, is why I have decided to open a circus.  I'll call it Spiff & Minty's Circus Extravaganza!  It's happening anyway.  We're putting on an amazing show for people.  I may as well charge admission.  I'll make a fortune.  If you come, you can be Wowed by my juggling skillz.

Thirty-Something

It's a woman's prerogative never to be satisfied with her age.

Here's a post about aging.  I just turned 33, and I'm finding it to be emotionally harder on me than 30 was.  Turning 30 was no big deal for me.  I felt ready for it, even a bit excited to be joining my siblings in their fabulous thirties.  The strangest thing for me was to admit that I didn't know all the things I expected my 30-year-old self to know.  I was still calling my mom to ask her how to cook a turkey and how to make gravy.  A 30-year-old should know that stuff, I thought.  But beyond that, I liked it.  I felt confident, settled and happy with my life choices.  I had a baby, then trained for a marathon and was in the best shape of my life, much more than any training I had ever done as a teenager or in my 20s.  The 30s were way better than 20s, in my book.

Then I started hearing things from my sister.  She's just three years older than me, and she started saying things like, "I'm not getting any younger." Or, "I'm not as young as I used to be." Or, "This old body is not going to hold up...nutrition...health...blah blah blah."

I thought she was being ridiculous.  We're in our all-powerful 30's!  We're invincible!

Well then I had a conversation with some other mommies the other day.  We were chatting about our educational histories, where we went to college, what we studied, etc., and some numbers came out.  When they asked when we graduated college, I discovered that I am 4-6 years older than they are.  When I said out loud that I graduated college one year before they graduated high school, I felt old.

When they had shocked looks on their faces, I felt old.

When I realized that they are all still enjoying having babies in their mid-20s, I felt old. 

When I realized that I had an entire extra chapter in my life than they do, I felt old.

I think that it's the Chapters that make me feel my age.  I know I'm not old.  Not anywhere close.  I'm young, healthy, and have a full life ahead of me.  But let's throw some numbers out here:
I graduated high school in 1998.  15 years ago.
I graduated college in 2002.  11 years ago.
I met and married Spiff in 2004.  9 years ago.
I graduated from graduate school in 2005.  8 years ago.

My most impressionable, footloose, and liberated chapters in my life are over.  I loved those chapters, and they still feel so close to my heart that they don't feel so far away.  But when someone new asks me what I do (for a living), I have to admit that I don't do much other than take care of my kids.  And then I think back on those chapters when I was learning and doing wonderful things, meeting fabulous and talented friends, and going on adventures, I start feeling sentimental, and I miss it.  Putting numbers to it and realizing that it has been eight years since I really played the piano makes me wonder what I have been doing with all of that time, since there was a time that Piano was all I was doing.

Wow, I'm really waxing nostalgic here.  Also, I have some great stories from those chapters to share, so stay tuned.

But anyway, my transition to my mid-thirties is a little rough.  I'm not taking it nearly so gracefully as I would like.  I don't really like being older than my other mommy friends.  I don't really like thinking of my childhood as a quarter of a century ago.  Ah, well.

All of this reminds me of a conversation I had with Spiff's Grammy one time.  She was an avid scrap-booker.  One time, she was telling me about some of her pictures when she said, "Oh, that was when we went to (someplace).  It was just a few years ago.  Wait, was that 1987?  That was twenty years ago?!  How has it been twenty years?"

The Humdrum

I feel productive this week.  I always feel like I have won a gold medal when I feel this way.  I sat down on Sunday evening and planned out my meals and to-do lists for the week.  On Monday, I cleaned my bathrooms, did my laundry (washed, folded and put away all five loads), vacuumed my floors, sent emails for my calling, went to Costco and the grocery store AND gave Spiff a hair cut.  Yesterday, took the kids to a playgroup, hosted a lunch, babysat some kids and rehearsed an upcoming musical number.  I have also managed to get the kids to help me clean up their toys for three days in a row.  I'm impressive, I know.  You should be amazed at me, especially since we all know that this kind of order and productivity doesn't usually happen in these parts.

Besides all that awesomeness, my favorite moment of the week was when I showed up at Costco and couldn't find my grocery list in my bag.  I knew I had put it in my bag when I left the house.  Where could it be?!  Then I remembered that I had made a quick stop at our neighborhood mailbox...and I realized that I dropped my grocery list in the little mail slot along with some letters.  Happy Valentines Week, Lucky Postman!  Now you will know what is on our menu for the week!  I felt so silly as I marched around the store desperately trying to remember all of the things I had carefully written on my mile-long list.

And also, I have an awesome postman.  I found my grocery list sitting in my mailbox today with my bills.  Good thing, too, because then I remembered that I needed to buy yogurt for dinner tonight.

This post is sounding like it could be an entry in my personal journal.  My life of taking care of my kids is so commonplace; these are the kinds of things I get excited about.

Because you need more proof...

That I live with a Human Tornado...

During my birthday party the other night, Hobbes sneaked into the office and did this:

 

Wowzah!  How are we going to survive this kid?!

Happy Birthday to Me!

I had a great birthday this year.  I was very spoiled by family and friends.  Lots of love given from people far and wide.  I do feel so very loved.  Thank you to one and all.

Here are the flower cupcakes I made.  I wanted something girlie. :)

I was especially aware of the little gifts given to me by my boys that day:
I received a Happy Birthday wish whispered into my ear first thing in the morning by Gunner, who also told me that he hoped I would have a lovely day.

Hobbes slept in so that I could take a shower in peace.

With a smile from ear to ear, Gunner handed the Ipad to me like a platter, playing the John McCutcheon Happy Birthday song.

My boys played happily with friends so that I could have a pleasant morning with a friend.

Hobbes was so very excited for present-opening time.  He was beyond tired by the time we did present time at the end of the day, and he just couldn't handle standing by and watching mommy open presents (which he inexplicably calls "boing boings").  So he helped me.  He made sure that each present was opened vigorously.  With love.

Gunner decorated the cupcakes in the front of this picture.  He cut out hearts from Fondant (pronounced Fahn-Dahnt, the way Cake Boss would say it).  He chose hearts "for love" because he loves me that much.  

 

I am blessed.

I am loved.

I am so very grateful.

The Windows

 We seem to have bad luck with windows in the apartments and houses we rent.  

Remember these?

There was enough air blowing through the windows to bow the protective plastic out like a balloon.

 Here's what happens to our windows when it's really cold outside here.

The frost creeps out onto the crank, like it's coming to get us.

I'm almost certain that it will.

I especially like this one.  The frost is made of large, fuzzy crystals,

and the curtain is actually frozen to the end of the crank.

This is what our last week has looked like.  It has been oh, so cold.
I'm cold.  The kind of cold where I cannot warm up, no matter what I do.
I'm dreaming of warm days playing in the park.

But for now, Brrrrrrrr! I need to go make some more hot chocolate.

Blog Makeover, Stage 1: Renaming

New blog focus=new name. Here's your chance to get in on the naming action. What should I rename this blog?  I want to hear your most creative ideas. 

Ready?  Go!