30 Days of Thanks - Day 7

Today I'm thankful that I get to call a very special and inspiring person "Little Sister." Of course, she's not so little anymore, all grown up with a life of her own in the Big Apple (yes, I'm the only one of my siblings who didn't make it back east).





Not only is she smart, caring, and hilarious, but she's very unselfish and is trying to save the world.

Case in point - right now she's in the middle of a three-week trip to Africa where she's volunteering at an orphanage. She's been sending us little pictures and texts (and, every once in a while, a longer email) telling us about her adventures. Since some of our family members aren't so tech-savvy, I started a blog for her that they can visit to see what she's up to. So now I'm sharing it with you, too.

Smiling Kate Goes to Africa

30 Days of Thanks - Day 6

Happy Election Day! Have you voted yet? I'm usually at the polls first thing in the morning, but Charlie decided to throw a temper tantrum (catalyst still undetermined) so I figured I'd just go after work, instead. Polling Locations are no place for a screaming 3-year-old. (but truthfully, where is?)

So today I'm thankful that I live in a country where I have the freedom to voice my desires through voting. Sure, our system isn't perfect, but whose is? I do my fair share of bitching and moaning about things, and then on election day I make my voice heard.



Did you exercise yours today?


On a separate but related note, I did learn an interesting random fact this week - did you know that voting isn't actually a Constitutional right? True story.

"The Constitution contains many phrases, clauses, and amendments detailing ways people cannot be denied the right to vote. You cannot deny the right to vote because of race or gender. Citizens of Washington DC can vote for President; 18-year-olds can vote; you can vote even if you fail to pay a poll tax. The Constitution also requires that anyone who can vote for the "most numerous branch" of their state legislature can vote for House members and Senate members.

Note that in all of this, though, the Constitution never explicitly ensures the right to vote, as it does the right to speech, for example. It does require that Representatives be chosen and Senators be elected by "the People," and who comprises "the People" has been expanded by the aforementioned amendments several times. Aside from these requirements, though, the qualifications for voters are left to the states. And as long as the qualifications do not conflict with anything in the Constitution, that right can be withheld. For example, in Texas, persons declared mentally incompetent and felons currently in prison or on probation are denied the right to vote. It is interesting to note that though the 26th Amendment requires that 18-year-olds must be able to vote, states can allow persons younger than 18 to vote, if they chose to." (source)

30 Days of Thanks - Day 5

Today I am thankful that Husband Charlie has agreed to give running a shot! We're both signed up for the Leadville Trail Marathon on June 30, 2012. I'm thankful that we're going to have the experience of training for and running a marathon together. Thankful that he's willing to indulge my crazy streak, and thankful that we're both healthy enough and active enough that we just might succeed at our crazy endeavor.

What's so crazy about a marathon? Been there, done that, got the t-shirt, right? Well, this isn't just any marathon - you can read the dirty details of what we're about to embark on at See Bean Run. Certifiable, for sure.

30 Days of Thanks - Day 4

Today I am thankful that I have strong and healthy legs that let me run far. Not super fast, but definitely far. 10 months ago I was completely intimidated by the box on the Flying Pig Training Group plan that called for 10 miles on a cold Saturday in January. 2 full and 3 half marathons later, my weeks just don't feel complete without a weekend 10.



Nothing wakes up the soul like an early solo run on a crisp fall morning. Add a post-run breakfast at Green Dog Cafe with bacon, biscuits, and coffee, and you've got a very happy Bean.

30 Days of Thanks - Day 3

I'm thankful for Daylight Savings Time! I'm glad that I'll be able to get an extra hour of sleep tonight - I still haven't really caught up from the DC trip. Between staying up super late on Halloween, booking a 6AM flight the next morning at an airport an hour away, and being unable to turn away from late-night Friends reruns at the hotel, I didn't get much rest this week. I love my job and I love DC, but those trips are exhausting.

The extra hour means I can get a full night of sleep and still be able to squeeze in an early-morning long run. Hooray for DST!

30 Days of Thanks - Day Two

Today I am thankful for a job that doesn't suck the life out of me. Once upon a time, I was a super idealistic graduate student in sociology who had a part-time job that I loved working with people that I enjoyed. Then real life (the reality of University budgets, anyway) caught up with me and I went out and got a "real job" in the world of business. Market research, to be exact. The statistics and research methods skills that I had picked up in grad school were in high demand outside of the ivory tower, because all companies have a burning desire to figure out how to sell more products to more people. Even though the work itself was tedious and soul-sucking, I was ok with it because the people I worked with were amazing. My cube-mate, in particular, became one of my very close friends.



But even though I worked for a family-friendly company with family-friendly people, I still missed having a job that was completely fulfilling. I missed doing research that would actually help PEOPLE, rather than helping a company's bottom line. One day, my old mentor from the University called asking if I knew anyone who would be interested in a job working for him on a big project. Did I know anyone?!?! Hell yes, I did! I revised my CV and emailed it over that very afternoon.

And the rest is history. Well, a very short 17-month history, anyway. Sure, there's a little bit more risk involved working for a start-up non-profit, but I'm back doing what I love and working with very lovely people. I don't spend Sunday evenings moping around because I have to go to work the next morning. I can honestly say that I love what I do, and that makes me a very lucky person, indeed.

30 Days of Thanks - Day One

I'm sure you've all seen this in some incarnation floating around on Facebook and the blogosphere, so I'm jumping in the game, too. The idea is to get people (me) away from dwelling on the negatives in life and to focus attention on all of the positives - the good and happy things that make life worth living. There are no rules, which means I can be thankful for my health one day and thankful for Dunkin Peppermint Mochas the next. Take the serious with the superficial.

After my generally negative post from yesterday, it can only help. Right?

I should have started on November 1 with everyone else (30 days has November, blah blah blah), but I'm a unique snowflake I was at a conference in DC with internet access that was frustratingly slow.

Contrary to what it may have sounded like in my earlier pity party post, I really am so very, very thankful for my Charlies. We make a fantastic little family. I had an easy pregnancy and we had a healthy baby, and I know that we are very, very lucky to be able to say that. They truly are the center of my world, and I couldn't imagine life without them.


(photo by the incredibly talented Steph Carson)

They are the best a girl could ask for, and I'm so thankful that our paths crossed at that keg party 11 years ago, this week.

Where it Gets Painfully Real In Here

So. This is something that's been weighing on me for months about two years, now. I've been reluctant to talk about it, firstly because it's nobody's business, and secondly because I'm afraid that if I actually write it down, it makes it too real, and I prefer to live in a somewhat ambiguous mental world when it comes to serious issues. Yes, in a previous life I was an ostrich.

I want another baby. Reeeeeeeeeeeeally, really, really, heart-breakingly really want another. Like to the point where hearing about people I know getting pregnant or planning for an addition makes my eyes prick with tears.

I feel like a horrible person for feeling like this, especially when there are so many close friends of mine struggling with infertility and pregnancy loss. I have a beautiful family, already, and I should be happy with what I've got. And I AM happy with what I've got. Very, really, truly happy.

I look at C and think about how fast these last three years have gone by and I just can't imagine never doing it again. It's not even like I want to be Michelle Duggar! I just want ONE more. Just one. That's it.



I don't think it's even so much about me here, but more about Toddler Charlie. My sister is one of my best friends. I'm so lucky to have both a brother AND a sister, and I just want one or the other for him. Some of my favorite times are those spent with my gigantic extended family reminiscing about the past, telling stories about growing up, finding long-forgotten anecdotes about how we used to play magic show and shove my sister into a wooden box, or how we tried to sell rocks on the corner for $5 each, or how we carried around my brother's tape recorder creating a cassette tape of our own radio broadcasts. I love how we had each other to lean on through thick and thin - even though things were really rough for a few years and family drama drove a wedge between us - we were still family and we always will be. We will always have each other, and we will always be connected.



Maybe I wouldn't feel so strongly on the issue if we lived closer to my family and he had access to his cousins and aunts and uncles. But we don't, and the reality is that we probably never will, so it is what it is.

And this is where I get all dark and morbid, but obviously no one lives forever, and once Husband C and I are gone, I want Toddler C to have SOMEONE. Sure, I hope he gets married and has a family of his own, too, but a sibling relationship is different. They are people who knew you when - who can verify or challenge your memories, who can vouch for your character at all phases of your life, who share that common past. And that is why I hate that we just can't come to a decision on this issue. We've been unable to commit to a decision either way - there are valid reasons on each side. I'm more on the pro side, C is more on the con side - and that's ok. That's just how it is right now. Things could change. And that's what I really hate - the lack of certainty. I know that nothing is ever certain (save death and taxes, blah blah blah), but the not knowing is pretty much killing me. It's obviously not a decision that you can put on a definite timeline, either, although at some point human biology will step in and make it, for us. Sometimes, making the decision by NOT making the decision actually sounds preferable.

I don't expect any profound comments on this subject, I just needed to put it somewhere. I also don't need any more pros/cons to the argument - we've gone in enough circles on our own and we've covered pretty much all of them. I think this is somewhat of a contributor to my recent case of the anxiety blahs. Maybe writing it down will help.

The Obligatory Halloween Picture

I hope to be back into the blogging swing of things, soon. It's been a little blah here lately, just lots of work and lots of play and no time to compose my thoughts. Such is life :)

I think the Star Wars costumes came out pretty darn well, for the first (and second!) attempt.

Hell has Frozen Over

This is what I wore to work yesterday:





















(please disregard the messy bathroom)

It's the first time I've worn a skirt to work. Ever. I finished grad school in 2006.

Today? I'm wearing another skirt.

Invasion of the body snatchers, peeps!

Oh, Wondrous, Joyous Day

Dunkin Donuts has finally gotten their act together and opened up a store near my office. Right across the street from my office, in fact!

No longer will I have to settle for the burnt beans at Starbucks. No longer will I have to endure the crowds of apple fan-boys and hipsters engaged in heated discussions about the latest Tori Amos CD. No longer will I fork over more than $1.50 for a simple cup of coffee.

Hallelujah!

Pure Awesome

What's better than a new 13.1 PR?

Crossing the finish line (a second time!) with little sister Katie in tow.

We leave no one behind!!



SO proud of her. Miss her already.

It's like Shark Week...

...but without the sharks. Otherwise known as, "Dad is a bad sharer."

Visit Unknown in Miami's Sunday in my City post for more photographic goodness!

Yes, Why?

Ta da!

Here it is, the finished Jedi robe.

It's Good to be the Mom

Charlie (at 6:45 this morning as we headed out the door): Can I have a cookie?

Me: No, we don't eat cookies for breakfast

Charlie: OK

(5 minutes later I was chowing on my breakfast of gummy life savers.)

I hope he gets LOTS of Milk Duds on Halloween.

I'm such a hypocrite.

30 while 30 - The Sewing Project

One of the tasks on my 30 by 30 list was to sew something. I purposely left it vague and open-ended, knowing my own history of crafty disasters. There was the time I tried to sew cow-print pajama pants, the time I tried to sew the holes on my jeans, the time I tried to hem my own pants, the time I tried to sew the hems on the curtains... I could go on. Stitch-witchery (the white tape that you use to iron-bond things together) is my best friend.

Growing up, my mom was the queen of craft. You name it, she could do it. She really shined on Halloween. While everyone else went to Bradlee's (like kmart, today) to get their cheap-o plastic Halloween costumes, my mom would go all out and create real works of art. She made costumes out of boxes and scraps and paint and glue and paper mache. I think the two best were my brother as an astronaut and my brother as the Empire State Building. I need to try to dig up some pictures. I wasn't as creative in the costume idea department - I went as a witch, a cat, a ballerina, a cheerleader. How boring. I think the worst one was the year I insisted as going as St. Lucia.

What, you don't know who St. Lucia is? Don't feel bad, neither did the rest of my 5th grade class. Or the people who answered their doors while we trick-or-treated.

Does this jog your memory?



I must have said "Swedish Patron Saint of Light" a million times. I should have just gone as a princess.

Anyway.

So now I have a kid of my own, so of course I'm continuing the tradition of handmade costumes, right? Sort of. Yes, they're handmade (with the exception of Brobee last year, because a friend offered to let Charlie borrow it), but my mom is still the one doing the making. Well, this year I decided that I was going to do it myself. Charlie wants to be a Jedi for Halloween. How hard could a brown robe be?

I searched the all-knowing Google for a pattern and found an Easy Jedi Robe, spent an hour at the fabric store trying to figure out the difference between cotton and broadcloth, measured, cut, and pinned, and bribed my neighbor with pumpkin chocolate chip cookies to bring over her sewing machine.

We were going for the Obi-Wan look.



I think we came pretty close. Maybe add a belt around the middle, and we're good to go.

30 while 30 Update

Hey, look up there! See that new page? It's where I'm going to keep my 30 by 30 list. Ideally, I'll have lots of updates and check marks to talk about every month, and that's where they'll all end up.

I've already crossed a BIG one off the list - I started and finished my first sewing project EVER (the beautifully embroidered "Fuck You" panels I made in high school don't count).

Pictures and details about the finished product coming tomorrow!

So far, 30 has been great!

It's the End of the World as We Know It

After this weekend, I think I can say that Charlie has officially given up on naps. Ugh, it pains me just to type that out! That glorious 90 minute period that I have come to expect between 1:00 and 2:30 every Saturday and Sunday is gone.

That means, on productive days, there will be no more afternoon workouts. On unproductive days (which seem to be the norm, lately), that means no more relaxing time on the couch with a book without pictures, no more naps of my own, no more catching up on junk TV on rainy afternoons.

And then I feel like a horrible parent for even thinking about mourning the loss of naptime. I should be overjoyed that we get to spend another hour together. Don't get me wrong, I love Charlie, and love spending time with him, but by the time lunch rolls around and we've played Star Wars action figures and cooked pretend grilled cheeses in the kitchen and built the same lego house over and over again and walked to the park and back... well, I'm tired. Shouldn't he be, too??

Perfect timing, too, because we had our 3-year well-check at the pedi's office last week. I blame her, because she asked the question. "Is he still napping?" Then I blame myself, because I smiled happily and said "Oh, yes! 90 minutes every day!" And then I'm back to blaming her for telling us that we should expect those to come to an end.

Now I'm WTF-ing her, too, because she also said that when the naps go away, we still need to encourage him to have at least an hour of quiet time. Quiet time? 3-year-old? Those two phrases don't really belong in the same sentence.

Of course, I took the question to Facebook. All moms commiserated with me on the loss of naptime. Some offered "Quiet Time" advice. It ranged from books and quiet toys to making them lie down anyway to (my personal favorite) Blackberry Whiskey (is that for him? or for me?).

Looks like we'll be hitting up Target this week for a quiet toy and an egg timer. I also found a super cute pattern for a Jedi Quiet Book online. I may have to get it, it can be my second crafty sewing project.

What, I didn't tell you about the first? That's coming soon :)

Apples

I only own one Apple product (a shuffle) and don't plan on buying any others. I may not a big Apple Fangirl, but I do appreciate good innovation when I see it. I also appreciate well-thought-out philosophizing. I first heard the now-famous Steve Jobs Stanford Commencement Speech in grad school. It was a stressful time in my life, and when I'm stressed out, my OCD symptoms get worse. One of my biggest trains of excessive thoughts centers around aging and death. These are two things that no one really likes to think about, OCD or not - the difference is that, for me, these things literally keep me up at night. Many nights.

The way that Mr. Jobs talks about aging and death in this address really spoke to me. It was the first time that I had heard this kind of spin on the topic, and as I pondered it and admired the logic behind it, I felt a sense of peace on the issue for the first time, ever. Of course, the obsessive nature of my thinking assured that the peace was somewhat short-lasting, but it was there, nonetheless. When my thinking starts to spiral into sleeplessness or feeling like I want to crawl out of my skin, this is what I go back to. This is what refocuses my mind and helps me feel more ok with the fact that our lives are finite.

No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don't want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life's change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new. Right now the new is you, but someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away. Sorry to be so dramatic, but it is quite true.

I can't thank Steve Jobs for the ipod, the iphone, or the imac, but I can thank him for speaking frankly on a topic that most people shy away from, and for the eloquence with which he shared his beliefs.

The rest of it is pretty amazing, too. Check it out.

Tantrums, Revisited

Holy cow, last night we saw a tantrum like no other! We had to go to Target after dinner to get granola bars and kitty litter (odd combination, no?). Charlie was in rare form. It started out easy enough, he rode on the cart as we headed back to the pet supply aisle. It all began to roll downhill when we passed the toy aisle. For the past few months, there's been a car display where you can push a button and the cars race around the track. Well, last night it was GONE! There was no button to press! The world came to an abrupt end, complete with screaming and sobbing and flailing, like I've never seen before. He eventually calmed down, but decided that he was going to walk through the rest of the store. Ok, Charlie, but you have to hold my hand or hold the cart.

That lasted a whole 30 seconds, and then he was zooming down the aisle ahead of us. My pleas for him to slow down or stop went unnoticed, so I was left with no choice but to sprint after him while the crowd snickered.

The screaming got worse when I finally caught up. There was NO WAY he was getting back in the cart, so I did the logical thing - left the husband with the cart of litter and took Charlie out to the car. It was a totally new "walk of shame" as I carried a struggling ball of cranky toddler while rushing toward the exit. And then, the unthinkable happened. Just as we reached the door, he reached up and slapped me in the face. I've never seen that kind of behavior from him. I was so shocked that all I could do was laugh. Of course, that's when the screams of "I want to behave! I want to behave! I want to go back in!" started.

I thought the Disappearing Armpit Act was bad when he was 2, but 30 pounds of toddler pulling that trick is just unmanageable. I had to stop numerous times to adjust my carrying stance.

We finally made it out to the car, and then began the task of trying to get him into the carseat. He held his entire body completely rigid. Try shoving a 40 inch 2x4 into the backseat of a car and bending it into a carseat, and then you'll know my pain. I somehow managed to get him strapped in. I closed the door and breathed deeply, grateful for the silence (well, technically you could still hear him shrieking, but there was a car door to muffle the sound). I looked up to see a woman laughing at me as she put her groceries in the car. And what does she say when she looks up? She cracks, "I should call child services on you!"

WTF? Not funny, lady.

Please, don't let this be the start of a "phase." There isn't enough vodka in the world to get me through that.

Ummmm, oops.

I think we may have figured out why Charlie may have recently developed a fear of lightning...



I don't know why we failed to connect the dots, earlier.

Mom fail, of epic proportions.

October Baseball is Back!

So what if it will still be September when the playoffs start? This is the MOST wonderful time of the year!

The month of September started out with the AL playoff spots all but locked up by the Yankees, Tigers, Rangers, and Red Sox. The sux had a 9-game lead over the Devil Rays to open the month. And then, we watched the red sox embark on "a collapse of historic proportions." Oh, joy, oh, happy day. The red sox will be relegated to their couches for the rest of the baseball season.

Have I mentioned how much I love Mike & Mike?



Of course, it's not all going to be smooth sailing for my Yankees, as they're going to be facing off against the Tigers and Justin Verlander, who will probably end up being one of the best pitchers we'll see in the modern era. Let's go Yankees!

Making Shit Up

One of my co-worker's favorite phrases is "What, you think I make this shit up?"

Sometimes I feel like that is the correct thing to do with all of the random questions Charlie asks. We were those highfalutin parents who vowed to never lie to our kid, to answer his questions honestly, and to fill his head with useful and accurate information.

Only three years in, and my resolve is slipping.

This morning in the car: "Mom, is the sun coming up? Where did it go at night?"

The rational part of my brain tries to explain that the Sun didn't actually go anywhere, the Earth did. While sitting at a red light, I try to describe the way that the Earth moves around the Sun, and try to demonstrate that the Earth also spins on an axis, and that when it looks like the Sun goes down, it's actually the Earth turning away from the sun.

We've done this dance before. I enthusiastically explain some kind of natural phenomenon, drawing pictures or gesturing to illustrate, and then I see that his eyes have totally glazed over.

This morning it was even worse - I got a "Mom, stop talking. I want to eat my granola bar."

I guess the correct answer to "Mom, is the sun coming up? Where did it go at night?" is really just "Away. It went away."




And one of my favorites:


Calvin: Why does the sky turn red as the sun sets?
Dad: That's all the oxygen in the atmosphere catching fire.
Calvin: Where does the sun go when it sets?
Dad: The sun sets in the west. In Arizona actually, near Flagstaff. That's why
         the rocks there are so red.
Calvin: Don't the people get burned up?
Dad: No, the sun goes out as it sets. That's why it's dark at night.
Calvin: Doesn't the sun crush the whole state as it lands?
Dad: Ha ha, of course not. Hold a quarter up. See, the sun's just about
         the same size.
Calvin: I thought I read that the sun was really big.
Dad: You can't believe everything you read, I'm afraid.

Charlie's Got The Girls-Only Blues

I thought we'd have a few years before we started to go through this kind of thing, and I didn't think that watching it happen would make me so sad for Charlie.

The backstory: We live in a neighborhood with lots and lots and lots of kids. Great, right? Well, yes and no. Most of the kids are 2+ years older than Charlie. That doesn't seem like a lot, but when you're talking about the abilities of a 5-year-old compared to the abilities of a 3-year-old, it's night and day. There are a few who are only a year older, but they're all girls.

Charlie's neighborhood BFF is a 4-year-old girl (L), who lives across the street. They've been good buddies for a good year now, and Charlie and I are friends with the parents, so it works out quite nicely. Or worked out nicely, anyway. Lainey has reached the stage where the slightly older neighborhood girls make more appealing playmates than the little boy across the street. I totally get that, really, I do. And there's nothing wrong with it. But as the mom of said boy, it just makes me sad.

Yesterday afternoon we were cleaning up, and Charlie was standing at the window checking out the action on our street. L finally came outside to play, and Charlie was beside himself with excitement. "Mommommommommommommom, L is outside! Can we play? Can we play?" So we got shoes on and headed out to play. Charlie ran across the street to see her, but when he got there he was stopped by a 5-year-old girl (J), who told him that he wasn't allowed to play with them, because it was "girls-only time."

Poor Charlie was so disappointed. I mean, what do you even say to that? You can't force L to play with him if she doesn't want to. She's at the age where whatever the bigger girls say is gospel, so of course she joined in, "Yeah, Charlie, it's girls ONLY! You can't play with me right now."

I tried to get him to play with me, instead, but he wasn't really interested after that. It was absolutely heartbreaking. I wanted to stick my tongue out at J and tell her that Charlie didn't want to play with her, anyway, but then that would just make me the crazy lady.

Poor kid.

Race Recap Complete

Check it out on the other blog. It's not nearly as long as the Pig post, I promise :)


Reeeeeeeeeeeeally looking forward to Friday!

Perspective

On Saturday, when I got to Wright Patterson AFB at 5:00 in the morning, I logged in on Facebook to "check-in" and let my husband know that I had made it up there safely. Of course, I took a quick scroll through my news feed, and immediately noticed that there were what seemed like hundreds of posts asking for prayers for a fellow mom in my mom-group.

I've never really met A in person, but we've been active on the same local message boards for years and we've crossed paths at the occasional large-group get-together. A and her husband worked hard at getting pregnant. They finally did, last year, and were expecting a girl. Sadly, her water broke at 18 weeks and they lost their precious daughter Addyston. A few months later, they became pregnant again, this time with a boy. Again, problems cropped up around the 18 week mark - they were able to stop labor for a while, but she delivered their son, Michael, at 24 weeks, the very edge of viability.

Michael continued to grow in the NICU, and made good progress. There were constant positive updates from A about when they were able to hold him for the first time, when he was able to breathe normal air, when he ate well, when he gained weight like they wanted him to - it really looked as though he was going to beat the odds and one day go home to his parents.

Then, last week, he took a turn for the worse. They weren't exactly sure what the problem was and tested and tested until they found out. Unfortunately, the news wasn't good. Little Michael fought for eight long weeks, but the fight ended early Saturday morning.

It's times like this that really make me ponder the whole faith issue even more. Why do such horrible things happen to such good people? In all the years I've known A, she has been nothing but nice, welcoming, friendly, kind-hearted, yet she has had to bury two of her babies in the past year. What kind of higher power could possibly allow that to happen? The faithful are quick to jump to the whole "everything happens for a reason" and "it's just part of the grander plan," but I just don't get it. And I'm ok with that. I'm good with where I am.

But then, at the same time, part of me almost wishes that I *did* get it - that I was so secure in just *knowing* that everything happens for a reason, and that Michael is playing happily with his sister in some kind of utopian afterlife.

Please keep A and her family in your thoughts and prayers. She is one of the strongest women I know.



And to think, I was upset about missing the 4:00:00 marathon mark. Hug your families. We are so lucky to have them.

Air Force Marathon Update - I Didn't Make It.

That's right, I didn't meet my goal time.

I missed it by 10 seconds.

You can read the short version about just how freaking close I came here. Full Race Recap isn't ready yet.

Registration for the 2012 Air Force Marathon opens January 1st! I'll certainly be back.



My Running Buddy is ahead of the curve and has already completed her Race Recap. Go show her some love!

Ready for Takeoff

Wishful Thinking Thursday. And, Pumpkin Spice Lattes

This morning I stepped out of the house and it was a cool 45 degrees out. Projected high of around 60. Perfect fall morning. Perfect day for a Pumpkin Spice Latte.

This is how my morning should have gone.



Wake up on time. Shower, dress, get Charlie ready, pull on hoodie for the first cool morning.

Get in the car and stop at Dunkin on the way to work for aforementioned Pumpkin Spice Latte, to celebrate the arrival of my favorite season.



Get one of their new Caramel Apple Donuts (I'm kind of obsessed - I had one on Saturday and have been thinking of it ever since) to eat for breakfast.



I had one on Saturday and I've been thinking about it ever since.




Instead, it went a little something like this:

5:40 - Alarm goes off

5:49 - Alarm goes off

5:58 - Alarm goes off, lay in bed for another minute calculating how many more minutes I could stay in bed before I would be late for work, decide that I have to get out of bed, regardless, because I have to pee, notice that the clock says 6:00 and have one of those "oh, shit!" moments when I realize I'm definitely going to be late.

6:25 - Try on three shirts, decide none of them look right, scramble to find something else

6:40 - Finally find acceptable clothes, run past Toddler Charlie taking his sweet-ass-time on the potty to hurriedly throw his lunch in his lunchbox.

6:45 (the drop-dead time for me to leave the house without being late) - Realize I forgot breakfast, scoop yogurt into a tupperware and throw granola into my purse.

6:47 - Realize I forgot Charlie's breakfast

6:50 - Finally in the car - if the lights are on my side, there's still time for Dunkin

6:52 - Stuck behind a schoolbus *damn!*

7:15 - Arrive at school, make a spectacular diving catch when Charlie catches his foot getting out of the car and nearly takes a header into the pavement.

7:20 - Stuck behind a schoolbus *damn!*

7:43 - Arrive at work

7:47 - Text from co-worker, morning meeting with client at diner - get back in car and drive to diner

7:54 - 9:15 - Drink too much crappy diner coffee, eat dry toast

Freaking school bus. Play along with Nota, if you need a do-over, too.

The 30th Birthday Extravaganza

Better late than never....

So now I'm all old and stuff, right? That's what being 30 means? Well, my gray hairs can kiss my ass. My super fun birthday extravaganza included an acceptable time in the Cheetah Run, lunch out with the Charlies, Tina Fey's Bossypants, and a wine tasting at Valley Vineyards thanks to Alison, who really puts the "B" in BFF. S and R even came all the way down from the far northern reaches of the 'Nati for a surprise appearance. If this is what the 30s have in store, bring it on!

Us 30-something chicks really know how to party. Evidence follows.

This is all for ME!




The old (tipsy) lady




The (B)BFF




The Aftermath




Hot Ladies!




I'm incredibly lucky to have good friends to celebrate with. I hope they know just how much I appreciate their friendship. I'm going to try to make more of an effort to show my appreciation for all of the fabulous people in my life, starting with lovely lovingly-sarcastic handwritten cards. So, A, S, and R - make sure to check your mailboxes this week :)

Ben and Jerrys - Oh No, They Didn't!

Oh yes they did. They went and made an ice cream flavor called Schweddy Balls.



What? You didn't see Alec Baldwin as Pete Schweddy on "The Delicious Dish?" Shame on you. I'm embedding it here, advertisement and all. It's totally worth it.



I just watched it again. Never gets old.

One of my favorite things to do while I'm in DC is visit one of the many Ben & Jerry's Scoop Shops. I almost always get the same thing - one scoop Chocolate Therapy, one scoop Coffee Coffee Buzz Buzz Buzz. But then I saw the Schweddy Balls announcement, and I knew I had to get me some of that.



It was lovely, if a little unexciting. Not really the punch of flavor and chunks that I'm used to from the Ben & Jerry's kitchens. I think I could have done without the rum balls, I prefer malted milk balls, anyway. The balls themselves could have been a bit larger. They were too small to really get your mouth around.

Here it is, nestled safely beneath a scoop of Buzz Buzz Buzz.




Mmmmmm, balls. No one can resist a Schweddy Ball.

Back in the DC

God, I love it here.

I'm in town for a Health GIS conference.



My Geek Crush, Todd Park, gave the keynote address today. I love him. How could you not love someone who gets so excited about DATA? Plus, he ended his speech with "...And may the Force always be with you." Swooooooooooon.



I had hoped to do some sightseeing this time around, since my trips mostly consist of the inside of my hotel room and the inside of our DC office building, but it's been pouring since I stepped off the plane. I did get a nice 6-mile run in. It was wet, but I always enjoy running in new places.

If you're just lost without me today, check out my recap of the Cheetah Run over on my running blog. I'll give you a sneak preview: It sucked.

30 Day Song Challenge - Week 17

A Song that Helps you Remember

I just realized that I forgot to post the topic for this week, but that's ok. It's also a Tuesday, and not a Monday, but that's ok, too. There are more important things in life than adhering to arbitrary blog deadlines. Thousands of people learned that the hard way 10 years ago, this week - September 11, 2001. Ten years. In some ways it feels like it happened such a long time ago. So much has changed in our world since then - we've been "at war" for almost 10 years. We've been remembering those lost on that day and in battles overseas. Our confidence and sense of security has been shaken. We have to take our shoes off to board planes and we can't bring our own bottles of water through the security checkpoints. My Muslim friends endured weeks months years of threats and taunts (and a few arson attempts on the local mosques). So tolerant, our people.

In other ways, it's hard to believe that it was 10 whole years ago. I can still remember exactly where I was (had just moved into our new apartment) and what I was doing (sleeping, since we had moved all night) when our roommate came banging on the door shortly after the first plane hit. I had just turned 20, and had actually just flown back from a birthday visit to NYC a few nights earlier. I was naive about the global climate and had never heard of the Taliban, but Charlie, being an avid news reader, immediately started talking about Al Qaeda and Osama Bin Laden. He knew before the second plane came. I remember watching the second hit, and then watching the towers come down. I had stood in front of them just days earlier. We did nothing but watch the news. I cried a lot. Everyone did.

We were lucky. We were spared the pain of losing family members and friends. Mostly, anyway - my uncle (who was more like a father to me, and my closest confidant) lost good friends, good people that he had known since childhood. In the months after the attack, he turned to hard drugs to help him "cope." We lost him for a few years, but not permanently. Like I said, we were lucky.

A few weeks after, there was a telethon called "America: A Tribute to Heroes." Bruce Springsteen sung a song called "My City of Ruins." It was originally written about Atlantic City, but took on a whole new meaning in the context of 9/11. It was cathartic.



"My City of Ruins" was featured on "The Rising," which was released right before the first anniversary of the attacks. The album felt like it was written to heal our hearts. It's an album that recognizes the sadness and grief and remembrance, but it also conveys a sense of peace and hope for the future. I would link to every song on it, if I could.

I don't know how many of you ever had the opportunity to see the New York skyline while the towers still stood. To this day, I just can't get used to the hole where they used to be. Every time I drive into the city on my regular visits, their absence is painfully apparent. I can't even imagine how the fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, children, and friends who have much larger holes in their hearts feel every day. May we never forget.

30 While 30

Taking a cue from my many other blog friends who are turning 30, I'm putting together a list of 30 things that I want to accomplish while I'm 30. Some of them are hobby-related, some are reading-related, some are fitness-related, and some of them are just things that sound like fun. To give credit where credit is due, I originally got the idea from Jen at Beantown Baker, who had a 30 BY 30 list that she did, and she liked it so much that she did it again.

My list is pretty wordy, which is for my own benefit, so 10 months from now when I'm wondering WTF I wanted to read The Great Gatsby I can come back to this post and remember. Feel free to skip over the words :)


So here we go!

** Food-Related Goals **

Bake Something New Every Month - I love baking, and some of the stuff that I bake is pretty freaking tasty, if I do say so myself. I want to force myself to think outside of my Ina's Outrageous Brownies box and bake something new and interesting every month. I think Focaccia bread will be first on my list.

Bake a Successful Cheesecake - One of my baking endeavors will definitely involve cheesecake - I've only attempted it once and it was a total disaster. Think "hollow in the middle" and really, really dry. To make matters worse, it was the first thanksgiving that C and I were dating and I was invited to his parents' house. I made cheesecake because it's his dad's favorite. He was nice and choked it down. Awkward!

Try Something New Every Week - My Pre-K teacher, Mrs. McSoud, used to tell us to "try something new every day." Apparently, I had an adventurous palate when I was a kid. I've grown out of that, and I feel like there's a whole other world of food out there waiting for me, especially in the cheese department. This will be a veggie-cheese-fruit-nut-legume-recipe thing, only.


** Fitness-Related Goals **

Run a 5K in 24 minutes or less - If I plug my 10K time from the June Redlegs Race into the McMillan Pace Calculator, I see that I should be able to run a 5K in about 25 minutes. I'd like to improve on that and hit the 24:00 mark. Funny enough, I've never run a 5K, so the Cheetah Run tomorrow (my actual birthday) will be a good reference point for progress.

Do an Unassisted Pull-Up - We started our first round of P90X more than 18 months ago. Two full rounds plus another year running and cross-training with the P90X DVDs and I still can't do a single unassisted pull-up. I'm going to make it happen this year.

Yoga Once a Week - I used to be religious about yoga. It was a multiple-times-per-week activity. I've gotten away from it and I miss it.


** Hobby-Related Goals **

Sew Something - This can be anything, but will probably end up being a bag, because those are supposed to be easy. I've been saving three old t-shirts that would make perfect tote bags, and I keep telling myself that I'll make something with them, but we're about to mark 6 years in our house and 6 years they've been sitting in the closet.

Read the Classics - High School was a tumultuous time for me, and I may have faked my way through a decent portion of the required reading lists. I read a lot, just not what they wanted me to. Think Jane Eyre and Tale of Two Cities. I've never even read Pride & Prejudice or Gone With the Wind. I'm going to make a list of 12 and read one every month. Bonus, because Barnes and Nobles has a ton of free classic books available for free on the Nook.

Learn how to Dance (Anything!) - My supreme Dance Central talents aside, I can't dance. I'd like to take a dance lesson. Just one, just to say I've done it and tried it. I've always wanted to try swing dancing, but I just don't think I'm coordinated enough for all of that foot-moving.

Start to Re-Learn Conversational French - Once upon a time, I spoke fluent French. I even minored in French in college. Years later, and I remember enough to get by if I have to, but boy, do I miss just knowing exactly what words to use and how to use them.

Learn to Crochet - I've had a few failed go-rounds with learning to knit, and I've been assured that crocheting is much easier.


** Cleaning and Organizing Goals **

Commission a T-Shirt Quilt - Along the same lines as the tote bags, I've got a giant bag of Yankee shirts that are either too old or too large (XXLs) to wear in public. I want to have them made into a t-shirt quilt for Toddler Charlie. Again, 6 years they've been sitting there. Time to get off the pot.

Purge Some of the Crap in the Basement - Enough said.


** Personal Goals **

Call the Fashion Police - Last fall I did a makeup lesson with Nancy of FACEing and it was the BEST thing ever. I need to do the same thing, but with the clothes in my closet.

Wear a Skirt (or something other than my black pants/solid shirt collection) to Work Once a Week - This is going to be difficult because it's going to require shopping. I hate shopping, but I need to step up my wardrobe a little bit.

Wear Makeup More Often - This has more to do with getting up early enough than anything else.

Accessorize - Actually wear the jewelry and scarves and stuff that people have given me over the years.

Start Family Histories - I want to interview both of my grandmothers. One is very interesting because of her Italian heritage and her Brooklyn upbringing, and the other is interesting because she was a swinger. True story. She's also a super cool woman, aside from that ;)

Start Scanning Old Pictures - This is almost definitely a bigger project than I have time for in a year, but it would be nice to get started on digitizing the gigantic box of pictures in the office closet.

Make a Wedding Photo Album - It's only been 6 years.

Create Photobooks - I have thousands of non-wedding digital pictures that I'd like to organize into photobooks of years and vacations.

Take Steps Toward Finishing my PhD - Hopefully this will involve re-taking a class this winter and preparing for an exam next summer.

Have a Boudoir Photo Session - So that when I'm old, grey, and wrinkly, I can remember what it was like to be a smokin' hot babe ;)



** Other Stuff I Want to Do **

Cincinnati Brewery Tour

Take a Friday Afternoon Off Every Month for Lunch and Date with Husband C

Visit the Contemporary Arts Center

Visit and Hike in Red River Gorge

Go to a Concert (it's been a long time!)

Learn how to Climb Trees

Go to an Astronomy Night at the Cincinnati Observatory

Wishful Thinking Thursday with Nota!

My buddy Nota has a new blog meme starting today, called Wishful Thinking Thursday. She even made a fancy shmancy button for it.




As she explains, Wishful Thinking Thursday is about crafting your perfect day in your head. How your morning would have gone and how your afternoon and evening will be - what would have made you happy. No limitations.

So here we go!

First of all, I check the ESPN Scoreguide on my phone every morning while I brush my teeth. I would have woken up to find that the Yankees had mounted a huge come-from-behind victory in the top of the 9th after I turned it off - beating the red sox and taking the lead in the AL East.



Actually, back up. First of all, I would have remembered that I had a morning meeting off-site and I would have set the alarm clock a little bit later so that I could have slept in (although, if I had done that, I wouldn't be able to write this post. things that make you go hmmmmmmmmm).

In that case, back up again - since "anything goes," I wish I hadn't had a morning meeting, at all. Heck, I wish I didn't even have to get up and go to work today.

So let's go back, shall we?

I would have slept in until 7. That's a good time for me, I wake up rested but not overtired. Then add in the thing about the Yankees miraculous comeback. Toddler Charlie would sleep in until 9, so that I could go out for a run. I would do my 15 mile long run and get it over with so I that I don't have to worry about drinking too much or eating the wrong things when we go out for our anniversary dinner tomorrow night. It would be a 100% enjoyable run, 60 degrees and dry, and leave me feeling confident about the Air Force Marathon coming up in 17 days.

Then I would come home and find that Husband and Toddler Charlie were both up and ready for the day, and had decided to go on adventure together, leaving me at home with an entire day to myself.

I would take a long shower, put on a tank top and my gray yoga pants, and plant my ass in a chair on the deck with Bossypants, by Tina Fey, which I've been carrying around since Saturday waiting for a chance to start.



I would take a break from reading around lunchtime, when I would have some walnut-grape chicken salad with a thick slice of cheddar cheese on a rosemary olive oil bagel from Bruegger's.

Then I would resume my deck-sitting and finish my book. The Charlies would return home after stopping for Adriatico's Pizza on the way home from their adventure. We would sit on the deck and eat pizza and drink Pumpkin Ale (or milk, for Toddler Charlie).



After dinner, we would ride bikes outside and make chalk drawings in the street.

Charlie would go to bed with only one trip to the potty, and then Husband Charlie and I would watch X-Files reruns on the couch while we drank our wine.



Mmmmm, David Duchovny....

That sounds pretty awesome.

A New Experience: Saving Lives, One Platelet at a Time

I've been a regular blood donor since I was 17. Pretty hardcore about it, for a while there - I have multiple gallon pins, a few Hoxworth water bottles, blood donor patches, a donor hoodie, and a wardrobe of college blood drive t-shirts. Real hardcore.

Then I got pregnant, and stopped giving blood for obvious reasons. Then I was breastfeeding, and too paranoid to risk taking the hit to my supply. Then I just got out of the habit. I gave when it was convenient, at a few mobile blood drives here and there, but then I started running and became kind of selfish - I didn't want to get lightheaded and feel run-down. In my defense, I've been anemic for 15+ years and losing those red blood cells has always affected me more than most people. But that's not a good enough excuse. Even my Running Buddy puts me to shame with her donation frequency. It's not like I'm going to win any medals, or anything - what's some extra time on the clock?

And then, two weeks ago, I got an email from The Running Spot talking about the big citywide blood drive and specifically mentioning that donating platelets is a good option for athletes. I did my own side research, and it's true! Not only does it leave your red blood cells alone, but the matter that they take from you during a platelet donation regenerates within hours, rather than weeks. So that's all well and good, but donating platelets is SCARY! I'm not going to lie, I was TERRIFIED. Even after donating a million pints of blood, I still got anxious every time. The idea of donating platelets where they're not just taking stuff from one arm, but then also GIVING IT BACK in the other, just makes me shudder. Cue more research, where I learned that they can now do it using only one of your arms and that the needle is actually smaller than the one that they use for whole blood donations. So I decided to go for it.

Am I the only one who finds the graphic/slogan combination a little creepy looking?



In case you're not familiar with platelets and platelet donation, here's a quick summary:

During platelet donation, a small portion of blood (about 1/4 pint at a time), is drawn from your arm and passed through a sophisticated cell-separating machine. The machine collects the platelets and safely returns the remaining blood components, along with some saline, back to you.

A single platelet donation can provide enough platelets for a full therapeutic dose for a patient in need. In fact, some platelet donations yield enough platelets for two or three therapeutic doses. By contrast, it takes four to six whole blood donations to produce a single therapeutic dose.

Many patients who need platelets are undergoing chemotherapy or organ transplant and have weakened immune systems. A platelet dose from a single donor reduces the patient’s exposure to multiple donors and is therefore preferred by many physicians.

I was nervous, nervous, nervous driving down to the big city-wide blood drive. I was shaking like a leaf and side-eying the giant centrifuge machine as I climbed into the chair. Those things are gigantic! The technician staffing the apheresis area, George, was really nice and helpful. He showed me all of the equipment and explained how everything worked. I got a very detailed rundown of exactly what to expect, how long it would take, and what it would feel like. He set up the machine, hooked up the bag, and started the process, and then went the extra mile by entertaining me for the next 90 minutes while we waited for the collection to finish. He let me watch the monitors so that I could see what was going on and showed me how cool it looked when the platelets got sucked up into the plasma bag - it was really neat, all swirly like mixing oil and vinegar.

I'm not trying to say that it was all puppy dogs and rainbows. It took a while - 90 minutes is a long time - the first time is the longest because the machine isn't calibrated specifically to your counts, but even after that it's still a time commitment. The feeling of having the red cells and saline put back in was pretty bizarre - not painful, just a little uncomfortable until you got used to it. The worst part was probably the mouth tingles - the anti-coagulant they use in the return solution binds with calcium to do its job, so it makes your mouth and nose feel tingly after a while (thanks again to George for the technical explanations!). They had a giant supply of tums on hand to combat the ickiness, but it was still rather uncomfortable.

When all is said and done, it wasn't that bad, I was really glad I had decided to give it a try, and I'm definitely planning to go back and do it again. You can go every three weeks, although if they test your cells and find that you're an exact match for a patient in the database, they can ask if you'll do it more often. The women in the chair next to me (who happened to be the kids programming director for the Flying Pig!) went every day for a week when they found that she was a match for a leukemia patient.


So think about it. Even if platelets isn't up your alley, think about giving whole blood. See? I'm even smiling! I even got a Flying Pig duffel bag and a $10 gift card to the Running Spot. Can't beat that!

30 Day Song Challenge Week 16 - A Song from the Year you were Born

While trying to figure out a good song for this week, I scrolled through the list of the top 100 hits of 1981. So many options. What to choose, what to choose? Lots of Blondie in the top 100 songs of 1981, but not my absolute favorite, which was Sunday Girl... "Celebration" by Kool & The Gang is an all-time classic, but I think my mom likes it more than I do, so that's out... Rod Stewart? He was my first concert way back in the day, but "Passion" isn't his best work... The Jersey Girl in me is partial to Springsteen, but he's already gotten a few mentions here, and I'm sure there will be more to come... I do love rocking out to "Hit me with Your Best Shot," but that can't be the best.

And then there it was, rolling in at number 65 - "Another One Bites the Dust" by Queen, the all-time gods of rock.

My siblings and I LOVED this song. Never mind that it was old by the time we heard it. Auntie Ann had a Queen tape in her car and she pretty much always had it on. My aunts LOVED Queen - my mom even named her dog Freddie after Mr. Mercury himself. We would beg and beg and beg her to play "Another One Bites the Dust." Of course she always did, and never let on that she might be sick and tired of hearing the same song over and over. I still get a little rush of excitement when I hear the opening beat. So many great Queen songs, but this one will always have a special place in my heart.




Ah, good times. 30 years ago. Wow.


When were you born? Share, if you dare!