Checking Back in - Part 2 - West Coast Adventure!

The other big trip of the summer was to the west coast.  THAT was an adventure.  Remember way back in 2012 when DJ and Rob had their adventure on the USS Stennis aircraft carrier while Aidan and I shadowed them by land?  We had known ever since that the four of us needed to experience that trek on land together.....and to finally get Aidan to Fort Clatsop after the first ill-fated attempt.  So, during the very last week of summer break, we flew to San Francisco and ended up in Portland when all was said and done.  

Disclaimer:  If you do not looking at people's vacation pictures, you might want to skip this.  Consider yourself forewarned!

We began by exploring San Francisco with my great friend Kevin for the afternoon.  The requisite Cable Car ride was great!  As Aidan and I got to do a few years back, we clung onto the back, near the brakeman's station for the best views.  We lunched on Fisherman's Wharf at Fog Harbor with a view of the bay and an excellent cup of clam chowder.  Twisty and steep streets were navigated and street performers were watched.  A day to remember forever as a family with one of our very best friends.

Lunch at Fog Harbor.  We had left our home at 3 a.m. that day, and this was about 2 p.m. on the kids' inner clock.  Meet Tired (DJ) and Hungry (Rob and Aidan).

 

Kevin and DJ showing their guns.

 Hang on, Kids!

Later that day, we followed Kevin across the Golden Gate Bridge toward his home in the Sonoma area.  Dave and Winslow were there to welcome us, and thus began one of the best two-day periods of any vacation, ever.  We explored Sonoma, enjoyed the awe-inspiring views from their mountaintop home, attended a Broadway medley show under the stars on Jack London's farm, and we laughed until our sides hurt.  

Bonus (?):  We experienced a 6.0 earthquake, which shook us around with some broken glass and jangled middle of the night nerves.  It left us without power for awhile, but it shattered Napa.

 A welcoming committee with style.

Sunflower Cafe, Sonoma

 Me and DJ

  Earthquake Veterans

Good bye!  Sob!

After leaving Glen Ellen, it was northward.  We drove and stopped to appreciate the beauty of this niche our of beloved United States of America with only a few specifics on our list.  Lots of driving, lots of breathtaking beauty.

Before leaving California, we played around

 and drove through a tree.

A visit to Lady Bird Johnson Redwood Grove was an unexpected treasure along the way.

humbling and comforting

 

Tree Hugger

(I always suspected this to be true.)

 As we moved into Oregon, we enjoyed the ocean views.  Here, we are watching grey whales (some of the biggest whales!) as they 

frolic and dine.

At long last, Aidan experienced Fort Clatsop!!!!

We crossed the longest tressle and ended up in Washington.  

We spend the day here, at Cape Disappointment.  Hiking and soaking it all in cliff to beach.  

One of my favorite days.  Ever.

 

Astoria Column....not for the faint of heart!

And then, after awhile, Portland.....and to one of the best places on the face of the earth:

Powell Books

 I do believe that Aidan and I would have been content to live here forever.

Rob likes Portland too.

The trip was a great adventure.  I wouldn't say I was ready to be finished with it, but heading home felt good.  Until the next one.

4 Month Sebbatical - Checking Back In Part 1 - Tennessee

Life has been busy!  Kids growing (and passing through some charming phases and some that were a little terrifying), home improvement projects (where I've been trying my hand as a general contractor....no thank you), Tough Mudder #3, Traveling with a Capitol T, general scurrying.....

My blog wasn't so much put in the back seat than it was blatantly ignored and neglected.  Since it has been for journaling purposes, and no one has been waiting with baited breathe for it daily or weekly (or monthly), I've been ok with that, for the most part.  But here we go again.  Keeping up with my life in these little entries that might last forever for my kids to find is something I like.  And if some other friends like to follow along, that is even better!

So, a RECAP:

Summer:  We did some fun stuff this summer.  Lots of it!  At the end of July into August, we drove to Tennessee for Delaney to play with her DSA fast pitch softball team in the 10U ASA National Tournament.  It was exciting and humbling for her.  A great team in their own right, DSA got pounded and eliminated early.  It was hard to watch them not be able to catch up or hit against some of these pitchers, even though they played hard and used their many skills.  However, Delaney learned a few things about softball.....and a few things about herself.  It was a priceless learning experience for her, and I am blown away by the maturity in which she's been making decisions that are difficult but best for HER with softball since then.  (Watching my little girl grow into a real person who makes the tough decisions is something else, I'll tell you.)  We traipsed around the area and enjoyed a real, American road trip in the process too.  Tennessee (and a smidge of North Carolina that we wandered into) were beautiful.

Doesn't she look little?  Her small stature is on of her best weapons.

Another weapon:  Speed

Aidan was loving the Civil War Demonstrations.

Rob even got some quiet time to relax.

We lodged in a renovated from 1900 and had the pleasure of meeting our charming host, Mrs. Ponder.  The drive was long, but we explored the Louisville Slugger museum on the way out and spend a fun night with Cyndi in Cincinnati on the way home.  Once we returned home, it was softball tryouts (seriously, more softball) and planning for another trip!

Aidan is 8!

Two days ago, our Aidan James turned 8 years old!  We are celebrating his birthday week with abandon:  chicken wings (boneless and sauceless), movie night (Despicable Me 2), fun with friends (swimming and soccer), hanging out and playing Legos, sending his sister to camp....the fun never stops!

When Aidan arrived 8 years + 2 days ago, he changed my life in the way that a first child could not.  With this go around, I knew motherhood.  I knew what it was to love a child who was mine.  I knew the joys and frustrations of babyhood and toddlerhood.  I knew...... nothing.

The first child, for me, was a tumult of stress and doing things right so that I wouldn't irreparably harm my poor baby by starting with the wrong foods, skipping naps for fun, and other such nonsense.

Aidan taught me to take it easy and roll with things a little bit more.  Other than moderate to severe evening fussiness that turned out to be (another kid with) collick, he was pretty darn easy.  He continues to be mild mannered in a good way and laid back.

We just love him to pieces.

Happy 8 IS GREAT Year!!

Solstice

The never-ending winter ended.  The school year finished in a blur.  Softball and baseball and life happened.  It's now toward the end of June.  Today is the Summer Solstice.

On this quiet morning while Aidan works on a Lego creation at the breakfast table and while Rob and Delaney are driving toward a softball tournament across the border, the seasons creep into change.  Summer is entering, and so is time for resting a little bit and playing more and enjoying stretches of time together.  We are looking forward to it all.

Aidan's First Communion is tomorrow.  We are fortunate to have family and friends around us to celebrate.  I love these family weekends.  These signs that my kids are growing up might make me sad sometimes in that bittersweet, mothery way, but I am loving the people they are becoming all on their own.

Tomorrow is Almost Here

Tomorrow is the Wisconsin Marathon, and I have to say I've been feeling a little bit sorry for myself.  I still can't quite believe I'm not running.  It feels pretty surreal after all those miles and the months of training mindset.  As I've said, I'm determined to make this experience valuable.

Here's what I've learned:

1.  A big disappointment isn't fatal.

2.  Adjusting my goals is ok.

3.  45 isn't old, but it's time to start thinking like my body might get beat up.

4.  Beating up my body to feel alive is worth the risk.

5.  Being a planner isn't Type-A crazy, as some would lead me to believe.  That's the trait that makes rehabbing my knee feel like a good journey.

6.  I'm finding out which people in my life get me and which don't.  That's not a slam on anyone, but it's a little eye-opening and makes me rethink what I will share in the future.

7.  Rob and the kids get me.  I'm really happy about that, because it's something I've never thought about.  I've usually only thought about them in terms of what I should be doing for them, and I've learned that they totally pay it back to me.

8.  Tomorrow will be tough to get through, and it's ok to be gentle with myself:  Knitting, Chocolate, Wine, and letting others take care of me.

9.  Not training while in the training mindset has given me the opportunity and drive to kick around what I want to do next, and that's a gift.

10.  After tomorrow, the next phase will feel real.  Let's go!

Grateful for the family that "gets me" and wants my soul to feel better.

A little self identity crisis

This whole "What's the Next Step for Me" thing has suddenly taken a weird veer.  I continue to be grateful for good health and all the great things in my life.  I'm just at odds with this little identity thing.

I've moved on a little bit from the marathon disappointment.  Yesterday, I emailed the coordinator to take my name out of the list of marathon runners.  I couldn't bear to think of my race packet sitting at the pick up on the day before the race, abandoned and lonely.  I was also afraid that if I didn't make it official, I'd rescue my race packet at the last minute, then wake up early on Marathon Day in a blind panic and just show up to see how it goes.  Not a good idea.  The doctor said aside from the obvious iliotibial band problem, there is also a possible meniscus tear.

So!  This morning, Riley and I took the kids to school and then walked about a 5K at a brisk pace on one of my running routes.  I did not get that high that only running seems to offer, but it was ok.  If I can walk lots and run sometimes, that might do it for awhile.

Here's the thing though:  if I could get past the feeling that I'd suddenly become old overnight, I'd feel better.  This is such a head game.  I can't decide if I've been living a life of fictitious youth or not.  What is real?  I'm not sure what 45 is supposed to look like.  Some of my peers are grandmas, and some have young children like me.  But we are still peers.  I see them on Facebook, and we all have lines and necks that are starting to do that thing.  Our eyes look different than they did in college.  Some are in good shape and others have become matronly plump.  Some of the hairstyles are "mom"-ish and some appear to be trying for 25 years younger than we are.  What the hell is age appropriate for me without losing all the youth that gives life its spark?  It's a very confusing time.  I'm a little bit freaked out by it, to be honest, because I seem to have misplaced my identity (which has been an issue lately anyway, if you've been following along).

If it wasn't for my abrupt halt to distance running and my orthopedic surgeon talking about arthritis and tissues becoming papery with age, I'd be ok, I think.  He told me that running at our age carries risks to injury simply because of our bodies becoming older.  Screw that!  I wanted blissful ignorance and "age is just a number" and still working on bad-ass accomplishments.  I'm going to have to lick my wounds for awhile and then regroup.

  

What Else is Next?

It came to a head yesterday on Tax Day.  Even though the taxes have been done and submitted without issue for awhile now, this day and certain others seem to prompt feelings that are nearly universal in nature.

Up until we moved from Milwaukee almost eight years ago, I've always worked full time.  Often, I've worked more than one job.  There was that first married summer that Rob said, "Don't work.  Relax," which was wonderful, but other than that, I was a working girl and a working mom.  I worked various jobs up until and through college.  After that I was pretty focused on my career in education.  I didn't feel like a duck to water with it, but I knew it would be a good vehicle to work toward becoming a college professor of literature and a writer.  I liked the kids (especially in the most urban middle school conditions) and old school buildings and, of course, the school supplies.  It was enough, but I got distracted and sort of lost my way.

I went to graduate school to become a principal, because I felt it was time to move to another level and to improve my knowledge base in education.  I also got into a great program and met people who turned out to be good colleagues and mentors.  It was all good, and the masters' degree bumped me up on the pay scale, but I was moving further away from the reasons I had become an English teacher.  Life and my career progressed.  I became a mother and turned down a great paying (and red-tape stuffed) position at the district central office.  I was content with the decision to turn it down, but it was a mental struggle at the time.  Rob got a job that moved us away, and I stayed home with newborn Aidan and pre-schooler Delaney.

That abrupt shift changed my life as I knew it and as I'd been plotting it for the future.

I loved having the unexpected opportunity to be home with my children and to be available to them 24/7.  Always a homebody, it was nice to be there.  I baked and cooked and cleaned and did picnics and all of that other fun mom stuff.  I was able to free up our family weekend time by taking care of the house during the week.  It was good, but I always felt a little (or sometimes more than a little) uneasy in my role.  It was interesting to me to suddenly be a "housewife" or "stay-at-home mom" or whatever you want to call that role.  Me, who'd worked since age 14 and had always been a worrier about if I'd be able to make ands meet, now home and financially secure if we were careful.  My life was safe but strange and unfamiliar to me

Since then, I've managed to spend a few years feeling relatively at peace with my current place in life.  However, the kids are getting bigger, and I've been feeling more of a push to figure out what the bloody hell I'm going to do with the rest of my life.  This question mark hanging over my head makes me feel panicky and then irrelevant and then really crabby.  There is a pattern to my quandary.  It keeps repeating itself until I find something to distract me for awhile.  Hence, the running and knitting and wine, I fear.  There's no such excuse for the chocolate.

I don't have to jump into something right now.  I'm grateful for that, but for a long time I've felt guilty about it.  Rob and I discussed it this week, and I was finally able to put into words why I feel this muddle about me.  The last time I was in career search and seize mode, I was in college.  My friends were also working on planning their careers.  There were high school counselors (whose help was minimal) before that who at lease made the question relevant at the time.  After college graduation in the early years of my career, my friends again were in the same place.  We adjusted our roles and added to our experience.  We were resume building.  We discussed our progress and plans.

Now, my friends are hip-deep in their chosen fields.  Those who have changed directions have made the decision to start their own businesses and are in the process of making them successful.  There are other friends and acquaintances who work full time as mothers and, let's be honest, lots of them resent it at least a little bit.  Even the ones who love their careers are tired and overcommitted and miss their kids daily.   I'm not going to start whining to them about all the choices I have to make and all the time without needing to bring in a paycheck that I have in order to make said choices.  No way.  I also have friends and acquaintances who are stay-at-home moms either in the early years of it or are content to leave it at that indefinitely.  They rightly feel the job of mothering never ends, and they feel that they want to make it their primary lifestyle long after the kids grow.  Good for them, too.

So, I'm on my own here.  I am not in a rush to end my current role, but I'd like to start mapping out the next chapter.  I need to plan, and that's always been one of my biggest strengths and one of my worst faults.  Rob suggested that I spend the next while brainstorming without cutting out ideas for reasons of impracticality, pipe dream status, or just plain ridiculousness.  I'm pretty quick to do that, so I'm going to try not to.  I'm going to dream a little and research and think on things.

Here we go.

What is Next?

Last week, my marathon plans were derailed for certain.  My knee has been an issue for over a month.  I rested and crept back into running.  It was sore, but things were going ok.  There was hope.  Let's just say that.  Last week Tuesday was my last scheduled long run before the taper leading up to Marathon Day.  I had 20 miles scheduled and, with a bit of a sinking heart, decided to run long for as many miles as possible.  Depending upon the total miles for that day and how I felt that evening, I'd make the final decision that I'd been hedging on about the marathon.  My run started out really well.  I noticed that my knee started to make its presence known on the odd-numbered miles, so I made a brief stop at every even-numbered mile to hydrate, stretch the IT band and walk a few steps.  It was working right up until just past mile nine.  Well, back up.  The pain on the odd-numbered miles started to increase at mile seven, but I kept up my hopes that had been rising since I started running that morning.

By mile nine, I was giving it one last positively-minded push and just kept going.  If I was going to have to quit the marathon, I would need to know for sure that the pain was going to make me feel justified in quitting after all these months, hours, miles, and sacrifices in training.  There was something on the outside of my right knee that was definitely feeling different in a very bad way.  It was the first time over the course of my iliotibial band pain hiccups and pitfalls that I started to think about the possibility of a lasting and severe injury.  At the halfway point of mile eleven, I turned back and limped to the car.  Luckily, I had just passed it less than a mile before stopping.

It's been a weird week.  I've been sad and felt like a quitter.  I've also had flashes of knowing that quitting is for the right reasons in this.  I hate quitting.  I hate wasting time.  I hate thinking that I will never get to run my second marathon, because this pain almost derailed my first marathon last year.  The difference last year was that the pain in my knee was totally manageable until the week before the race.  Marathon Day was the first long run with soreness back then.  It was really painful and difficult, but I was able to do it with very minimal walking.  I wish I'd known then that it would maybe be my only marathon, because I would have savored and celebrated a little more.  I might have even attached one of those 26.2 magnets to my bumper.

So, that's that.  I'm seeing the orthopedic surgeon at the end of this week and trying to get out of this non-cardio funk that not running puts me into (and this, I swear, is what has kept me running).  I'm getting back into yoga and, after just doing strength exercises at home, am heading back to the gym tomorrow morning to try the elliptical trainer and to lift weights.  The injury thing will or won't take care of itself.  I might have to adjust my life a little bit and my self-image, but it's not fatal.

I'll survive.  I'll also make damn sure that I grow in the process, so that all that running and prepping wasn't in vain.

And that's the whole point, I'd say.  Remember this, and happiness reigns supreme.  

Delaney is 11

My little girl is growing up.  Her shell is a conflict of emotions all at once surrounding a sweet and thoughtful being.  Pre-adolesence is in full swing, and she's working to adjust to the world around her (and we are trying to keep up with the moment to moment shifts!).

She is dance and music and colors and sports and boys and friends and constantly changing in all of these and more.  She is a flurry of energy and, at the same time, a sleepy child.  I love her with all I've got.  And when she's in one of her tweeny moods that confuse and frighten her, I will do my best to love her through it.

Happy Birthday, to my beautiful girl!  May you see the beauty and light that shines from you that the rest of us enjoy in you.  You are truly a special gift.  I love you!

Ah, baseball

This post was to be published the summer of 2012, I think.  Somehow, it was skipped over.  I add it now with some additions to welcome Baseball 2014.  

There are few things that stir me as much as the game of baseball.  Well, not in the same way at least.  I love many things, but baseball is a thing of beauty.  Its history is meaningful to our country.  A well-executed play can be appreciated, even it doesn't favor the home team.  I love baseball and always have.  It is also something that I share with my father.  That makes it even more special to me.  I remember watching Brewer games on tv late at night when the house was too warm to sleep.  Once a year, our familly went to watch a game at the old County Stadium in Milwaukee.  Those were some special times, and I will never forget them.

As a grown up, my love for the game continues.  My husband also enjoys the game, which is fortunate.  This year, a new tradition was born.  Rather, an old tradition was tweaked and reborn.  Now, I've added the once a year game with my dad to include Delaney and Aidan.  The memories live on and grow richer.
...........................................fast forward a couple of years........

Now, a couple of years later, both kids are playing the sport.  Aidan is in Little League.  His swing is a thing of beauty, and he's got natural hands on defense.  Delaney plays fastpitch softball.  She's lightening fast, and her grace turns her game into poetry.  How lucky am I, to have the opportunity to enjoy so much of the game I love?  Very.

And soon, we head out to our second spring training.  Since we watched the Brewers last year, Delaney and I are allowing ourselves to take in the Cubs this year for the sakes of Aidan and Rob.  As long as I'm watching baseball in the sun, I'm good.

On The Eve

There is something in the air this morning.  It's not so much something to look at, though.  More of a feel.  And a smell.  On the way to the bus stop today, Delaney took in a deep breath and said, "Oh, Mom.  It smells like spring."  She also noticed that when Aidan stomped through a puddle it looked beautiful, "like little sparks" coming off his feet.  She does have a way with words, that girl.

But back to the weather.  Today is grey, rainy, foggy, and only about 39 degrees F, but it feels like spring is almost here and that winter is finally leaving.  It feels hopeful.  I feel hopeful and motivated and like a cloud is lifting.

Spring really might happen this year.  It really might.

I think Riley agrees.

"Beware the Ides of March"

This famous quote from Shakespeare's Julius Caesar is on my mind.  In the play, a soothsayer utters it to warn Julius Caesar of his coming death.   It was on the ides of March seven years ago, March 15, 2007, that my mom's diagnosis was confirmed.  I remember the irony of it hitting me immediately, in fact.

Although not an indicator of immediate death, FTLD carries a death sentence.  Dementia originating in the frontal and temporal lobes changes everything.  It robs family and friends of a loved one.  Little by little, it steals a life.  

death by a million paper cuts 

My mom is sometimes painfully aware of what is happening to her, I think.  I see it in her eyes when she sees me as I walk in the door to visit her.  It is painful for me too.  Her caregivers tell me that her day is going well until she falls to tears when I arrive.  That hurts.  I think seeing me is a reminder of who she was and of the future she planned to have.  Maybe I'm wrong.  It's possible that she can't know these things anymore.  It's impossible to know for sure, since she can no longer communicate with me and often seems to forget that I am there.

Tomorrow, I will smile at my mom and hide from the sorrow, but I allow myself to succumb to the crushing sadness on this anniversary.  She is worthy of this day of mourning, and that will never change.

I will remember to be grateful that we made time to be together and that my kids were and are given ample chances to see her.  I'm glad we went to the bookstores, baked cookies, trick or treated,  and took picnics when she still could.  At the time, it was difficult to do and gave me a mess of unhappy emotions.  Now I am so very glad that I took the pains to make as many memories as possible, like the one pictured above.

This Winter, The Never Ending Story

Tomorrow is the first of March.  There should be a hint of spring in the air or, at the very least, a hint of a hint of spring.  The reality?  The air temperature was -8 F this morning.  I'm not even sure what the windchill was, but it was forecasted to be in the neighborhood of -25.  That's humorous enough, I'm sure, but this is roughly the 15th time this winter that we have had a windchill warning.  For anyone unfamiliar with that particular weather term, it roughly translates to "cold that can kill you quick and freeze your face off even quicker" weather.

This winter, we have taken to traveling with thermal sleeping bags in the back of the mini van, just in case the engine quits between here and town.  We have bought bags of hand warmers from the outdoorsy store.  We have had many things freeze in the garage, and we've had many critter visitors of various sizes take up shelter in our garage.  (I can't even blame them.)  My kids get recess only when the temperature is above 0 F.  They have had more days lately without recess than with recess.  That makes for squirrelly kids and haggard teachers, by the way.  Polar Vortex, they say.  Can we just quit complaining about it and act like the strong and hearty souls that we, Wisconsinites, are supposed to be, please?

It has been a winter to behold.  The power of Mother Nature is awesome and cruel.  Aside from the intense cold, we have had more than our fair share of snow.  It's been awhile since we have had so much of it so consistently.  I don't mind.  It keeps the bleak cold pretty out there.  Bad road conditions and canceled activities aside, I have to admit that I have enjoyed this winter.  No, really, I'm being serious.

Winter is a hunker down and hibernate time.  It gives an excuse to wrap up in a blanket, buy more wool, have an extra cup (or three) of coffee.  Bake, cook hearty, have a family movie night, decide to stay home kinds of winters have become scarce lately.  I've embraced this one.  My kids have loved it too.  Four days of school have been canceled due to COLD!  When it is -45 F outside, we stay inside.  We don't even drive to the store or to Starbucks.  Doing so is actually dangerous.  Doesn't that sound crazy for the twenty-first century?  I love the new-found respect I get for nature when the weather goes nuts.  When the cold eases up just a hair, we sled, skate, snowshoe, slide on the ice, check out what the ice fishermen are catching, and feed the cold, little wild birds.  Hot cocoa abounds!

The Ice Caves along the northern coast of Wisconsin and Lake Superior are open this year, for the first time in five years.  Lucky enough to be able to get up there to see them, we took in the beauty and were properly awed.

Standing over 40 feet of lake water on the ice, we saw colors and crystals of ice that nature created, seemingly, with frost fairies.

The walk out to them was an ambitious undertaking.  Rough snow-covered ice was our path for at least a mile over the lake until we came to the caves.  The pay-off was worth it.

 This is such a big deal up there, that the Canadian Border Patrol came in to help out the Apostle Islands rangers with the crowds.  11,000 people were expected the weekend we showed up there.  I can see why.  I even crawled in a tight little space or two to experience the caves.  They smelled of fish, even with all the ice!

So, who says a cold winter is boring?  Stay inside if you want for the months on end, but me?  I need my vitamin D from whatever sunshine I can get. 

However, enough is enough.  I will welcome Spring anytime.  For now, though, one more cup of coffee.