How lucky

This week, CT and I have been kick’n it solo.  The other two little  monkeys are off at Chinese camp trying to remember how to move their mouths in such a fashion as to make those amazing sounds of language come out right.

Yesterday CT and I spent most of the day together: we had lunch, we ran errands, we did a little shopping, we cruised around town.

It’s a rare moment that I have only one child with me.  It’s a rare moment that I am not trying to do twelve things at once.

I realized (yet again) yesterday how fast I’m spinning and how fast my kids are growing up.

I have always known that CT is a great kid, but yesterday, I realized just how much more wonderful he has become.

He is funny and smart and super witty.  He is lovely and kind and generous.

As the day drew to a close, I squeezed him tight and thanked him for the day we had together…what a gift.

It’s taken me awhile

Today I pulled my Dad’s Caring Bridge site down from my links.  I have thought about it often but haven’t been able to do it.

It’s like throwing away the left over cards from his funeral.

These are little bits and pieces that are left of him, so getting rid of them are difficult if not agonizingly painful.

To the living this is all we have left, the papers, the books, the sweaters, the tangible things we can still hold, touch and smell.  Why on earth would you want to get rid of that?  If that is gone you have nothing to hug and hold, feel or touch.  But I can’t keep these things forever.

So we plant trees to visit, to sit next to and to summon the memories.  Every time we drive around Lake Calhoun the kids want to stop and visit grandpa’s tree.

I took this photo a month or so ago.  It says so much to me.  The kids just hang’n out, playing and watching the sun set in one of the most beautiful parts of the city that my dad loved.

I find him here most.  The memories come flooding back for me in this place.  As the kids play, I know he is there taking part in it all.

Ohhhhh Little League

Yup…found this on the way to our first Little League game of the year.

At least we know they were well hydrated, seeing it was made from a Gatorade bottle.

Who doesn’t want to do it all?

This is the problem…I want to do it all.

I think I can do it all.

And then there are moments, like this morning, when I get up at 4:00 am so I can do exactly that, get it ALL done.  Then suddenly there is a chink in the armour, the gig is up.

The feeling that it will all come crashing down washes over me, not one of the many plates I am spinning can spin true, nothing will be done well and they will all come tumbling down in a heap of broken glass around my ankles.

Seriously, not a good way to kick off a Monday.

To tap the app

I like checking out my horoscope and tap my taro card reading on a daily basis.  I mean why not?  It’s not like I really believe what it says, it is more about the frivolity of it.

However, this morning, my taro card reading was so foul you would think that this was the day I was going to die.  It spoke of how I was going to be overly explosive, that I should work alone because I would basically piss off any one that came into a 10 foot radius of me and that anything I touch on the work front would turn to shit .  Of course it goes on to talk about your love life, it said mine was in the tank, seriously doomed and that there was no way of righting any of it today.

I decided to hit the “Shuffle & Redraw” button.

Oh, so much better.

Deliciously Untethered

Adam and I flew into Boston last night and had a wonderful dinner with Anne Marie to kick off our Boston weekend.

Today has consisted of watching TV, eating breakfast at 12:30pm, walking through the Public Garden, picking up my race packet and then taking a nap.

I have not done so little with a day and been so happy about doing so little with a day, in years.

As I lay in bed typing I wonder, how long does it take for bed sores to set in?

Perpetually crazy

My friend and co-worker Mike, who I met a handful of months back while working on the Loppet, happened to somehow stumble across my blog the other day…and then he told me about it.  What’s funny about this is that Mike only kinda knows me, only kinda knows a piece of me.

It actually made me wonder what comes across when people happen to fall onto these pages.  What do they see? How do I and my blog posts actually differ from each other or don’t they?

So I went back to take a look and reread some of the stuff I have scrawled down over the past six years.

Realization #1:  Good lord I have been jotting down my inane daily escapes for a while.

Realization #2:  I am so glad I have a chronicle of my kids “little-hood”, my dad’s death and life in general as it has ebbed and flowed and changed through the years.

Realization #3:  I thought I had just recently taken on an overly competitive athletic bent, I honestly did not think I had been this crazy for so long.  No seriously, I read this blog post and was totally taken aback at the fact that I had Boston marathon aspirations in 06.

And just in case you are wondering, I am totally going to smoke the 2006 Mary at the 2011 Boston Marathon.

If you pierced something, what would it be?

Yesterday afternoon, I picked up Erika and we headed to St. Sabrina’s to pick out her belated birthday present, a new nose ring (actually a ball).  The previous year we spent time in there getting it re-pierced after years of it being closed.

Since the tiny piece of jewelry had fallen out a few weeks ago and she didn’t want me trying to shove it back in her nose, we got to sit and enjoy the people watching at St. Sabrina’s for quite some time before we were escorted to the back room to get it reinserted.  And let me tell you…you would NEVER imagine who gets what pierced where.

We heard it all and I really should have taken photos of everyone, posted them and created a sort of match the photo to the piercing game.  That would have been fun.  Instead, I’ll give you a quick and dirty run down and you can try to guess.

Here are your choices: eyebrow, labia, nose, penis, tongue, nipple, belly button, ankle or ear.

Answers are on the bottom.

1.  Blond 16 year old, not old enough to be there alone.   She is in with her mom and older sister and describing the piercings her friends on dance-line have all the while signing, “Mom, IT IS JUST SOOOOOOO CUUUUUUTE!”.  She was clearly the “cute” sister and the other older sister was either thinking her younger sibling was really stupid for doing this or wishing she had the balls to pull it off.

2.  The 62 year old male who looks like your old math teacher.  He has gray hair, glasses, khakis and a Mr. Roger’s cardigan on.  It looks like you could really trust him with Algebraic equations.

3.  The mid 40′s couple.  We couldn’t really tell if the woman was undergoing a sex change or not, but she was all dolled up in over the knee fuck me boots, sheer floral tights, a very short black knit dress and a leather jacket.  Her man was just a regular looking salt and peppered guy in workout pants.  She knew these people by name and was looking for her new piercing to match her pre existing ones.  They were either going to have a lot of fun tonight or they were going to be in a lot of pain.

4.  Late 30 year old gal, dressed head to toe in black (not goth, just urban) with grey striped tights and a cane that supported the limp in her gate.  I couldn’t tell if she was going to mess someone up with that cane or not.  Although, she was also in getting a fix on a botched finger tattoo and hopefully PEACE written on her other hand.

5.  The EMT, dressed in her uniform straight from work.  She must have been about 25, pink cheeked and ready to save the next guy who was going to have a stroke.  She looked too fresh to be part of this group and when I looked at her the song from Sesame Street (One of these things is not like the other) started playing in my head.

ok

time

to

guess

Answers:

1.  dangling bedazzled belly button piercing.  2.  left nipple-he made it VERY clear the barbell needed to match the right.  3.  Lots of conferencing went on with this couple:  woman-2 additional labia piercings, man-starts with a P.  4.  eyebrow  5.  nose

How many did you get right?

How many days…

does it take to have your French Press broken by one of your small children.

23!

BooHoo.

My new hot sweet love

I have fallen in love with a thing.  That thing is a French Press.

My coffee maker broke one morning when I was up at 5 am working and I have sent it off to get fixed.  No coffee at 5am = no good for me.  By mid afternoon that day, there was a French Press in my hot little hands. I’m not sure I have ever enjoyed coffee as much as I have this past week.

So in honor of my little lovely Frechie, here is a haiku, because who doesn’t like writing haiku’s?

Dawn sky breaks early

Slow thoughts dribble through my head

You are steaming strength

Write one, about anything, it’s fun.