London Calling

Getting ready for Rock 'n Roll

A friend talked me into signing up for the Inaugural Chicago Rock 'n Roll Half Marathon.  We signed up in March and the race is August 2nd.  As of yesterday morning, my longest run was about 4.5 miles -- quite a long way from the 13.1 that I promised to run in just a few weeks.

So last night, I decided to push and see if I could run 8.  If I could do that, I could push to 10 next week and finish the race with a bunch of walk breaks.  The goal is just to finish right now.  No breaking personal records -- although my time for the half is horrible.

At 5:15 last night, I decided to head out.  That way, I could have a few beers after my run and could relax on Sunday.  London was a crankmeister and demanded to come along for a ride.  He hadn't taken a nap and I thought that he'd enjoy a nice relaxing hour (or two or three depending on how long it took me).  Still, the kid is 30 lbs and the jogging stroller is at least another 10 which made the few "hills" (aka slight inclines) miserable. 

We ran 5 miles in the sun which is always difficult for me.  Not to mention my lunch of hot dog and chips with queso wasn't the best fuel.  Still, we made it.  I dropped London off at home and finished the last 3 miles without the extra weight and finished right in front of the beer store.  (My cool down was my walk home from the beer store.  Motivation is key for success.)

I thought that I'd be a mess after my run and that today I'd barely be able to walk.  Au contrar mon frere.  Besides the goofy clicking sound from my knee joints and sore feet, I feel great.  Barry gave me a supplement called Acid Zapper before my run that is supposed to do something with the lactic acid generated when you exercise.  You take 1 pill for every 50 lbs. -- so I took 3 -- about an hour or so before you exercise.  I wish this stuff was around when I was training for marathons.  It's so nice not to have super sore muscles today. 

So, one long run down and a few more to go.  Next weekend I'm at the Car Craft Summer Nationals in Minneapolis.  Downtown Minneapolis has a great running path along the river, so I may try to get my long run in while I'm away from the kids.  I wonder how many extra calories I burned pushing a toddler?

Losing a mother

Today, a very dear friend lost her mother.  Her death was unexpected and I imagine that my friend is both shocked and heartbroken.  Sadly, her mother was really lost to her many years ago to a mental illness.  That first loss has affected her so greatly in so many ways.  While my friend has faced many challenges and a whole bunch of sadness, she's become a strong woman and a fantastic mother.

Just a few weeks ago, she drove me home from my own mother's funeral.  On the way, we talked about my mom and the ceremony and our kids.  I told her about one of my mother's friends who was only a few years older than us.  My mom said that this woman, Michelle, hadn't had a good relationship with her own mother and they'd kind of adopted each other.  As her health deteriorated, Michelle devoted more and more time to my mom and to our family.  I'll never forget her kindness.

As we talked about Michelle, my friend confessed that she sometimes morned the loss of her mom even though she was still alive.  (This was my interpretation and not her actual words.)  At that moment, I understood at least a part of how she must have felt for her entire life.  She remembered her mom before her illness and every time she saw her must have felt similar to how I saw my own mother in the last weeks of her life.  I knew her energy and her love, but I saw less and less of her every day.

My brother and I talked today and we both said how much that last week of my mother's life had haunted us.  We can't get the image out of our minds.  It's like one of those nightmares where you wake up and try to forget the dream so that you can go back to sleep.  But you can't forget the dream. 

To my dear friend, I am so sorry for your loss -- your loss today and when you were a little girl.  I hope that you can remember your mother before her illness and forget the difficult times.

We'll always remember how greatly our mothers' have influenced our lives.  We've learned from them --through their successes and failures.  In turn, our own children will learn from us.  (Hopefully more from our successes than failures.) 

She cried and cried and cried it out

I shared our goal of starting -- finally -- to let Violet cry it out last night.  I had no idea that she would cry most of the night.  Most kids cry for an hour or two and then give up.  Not Violet.  At 10:30 she had already cried for three and a half hours and was still going strong.  London and I started to fall asleep on the couch because there was no way he could sleep upstairs next to her room. 

She had a few spans of an hour or so of sleep.  If we didn't have a video monitor with the sound turned down, we would've been up all night too.  Still, she has some serious volume and we could hear her in our bedroom.

Tonight, I thought that we'd experience more of the same.  She'd cry for a few hours at the very least.  Blue said that she had a tough time with naps in her crib today but successfully slept for two hours in the afternoon.  He was sweet and stopped by target to buy this neat sootherthat displays a light show on the wall.  He also added batteries to one of London's old crib toys.

I laid her down in her crib at around 6:15 tonight because she looked so tired.  I was so worried about hearing her cry, that I didn't even turn on the monitor for 15 minutes.  When I looked, she was playing with a crib toy.  No tears the rest of the night.  And now ... I can exhale.  Baby Violet is on her way to being a good sleeper.

"Quiet"

Taylor, London's "brother from another mother" as he likes to say, went back to Texas today.  He only spent a few weeks with us this summer.  Now that he's 16 and too cool for us, he wanted to get home quickly.  We all miss him.  Emily is always in a state of depression when he leaves.  The car will be safer though. He took part out of the side on his first trip out of the driveway.  Guess that's why teen car insurance is so expensive. 

To kick off our first night, we decided that Violet's first night in her crib was long overdue.  Her legs actually hang over the edge of her swing where she's slept so comfortably for the first seven -- yes seven -- months of her life.  She's cried for 42 minutes so far and although I have the sound off on the baby monitor, I can hear her from downstairs.  So, like any good mother, I sent Blue off to get a bottle of wine.  What do they call it?  Liquid courage?  I may need to sit outside for a while -- not that I couldn't hear her out there.  That little lady has a great set of lungs! 

Baby steps

It's been a while since I blogged.  I just haven't been able to "talk" about what has been happening.  My mom died on June 1st.  She was so dear to me and I think of her every day.  I feel a little bi-polar most days.  Anything can make me cry but I still laugh a lot -- some days more than others of course.

Today is Violet's 7 month birthday.  When I looked at my calendar at the office this morning, my heart stopped.  My mom would've called me today to remind me and to talk about Violet and all of the wonderful things that she's doing.  Just two months ago, she called me to talk about Violet's 5 month birthday.  She was excited to hear about her latest accomplishments.

Just after Violet's 6 month doctor's appointment, I sat her down on my mom's hospital bed and shared all of the details:  how much she weighed, that she sings and smiles and sat up on her own.  My mom didn't respond but I could tell that she understood. 

The afternoon before my mom died, Violet and I spent the day with her.  We sat on her bed so that she could hear Violet sing her pretty baby songs and played on the floor next to her.  Every time I see Violet, I think of my mother.  Violet looks so much like her and my last memories of my mom include Violet.  I guess that it's appropriate that she's named after her grandmother:  Violet Kathryn.

Heartbreaking -- it's the only word I can use to describe today

You know when you watch an incredibly sad movie and at the end you are just sobbing like a baby?  That's how I felt all day.  The tears don't stop and that feeling in the back of your throat when you know you're about to hit defcon 5 of crying -- you know, Terms of Endearment or Steel Magnolias level of tears -- it just won't go away.

My mom, my strong, wonderful, beautiful mom is dying.  When I'm around our family or her friends, I see so much sadness in everyone's eyes.  Sometimes the depth of that sadness surprises me. 

Over the past few weeks, I had wondered how my dad could still go to work and leave my mom at home to be cared for by family and friends.  I knew that he's been worried about job security and if he lost their insurance they'd be in trouble, but I didn't know why he wouldn't want to spend every minute with the woman he's loved since he was 16.  Now I get it.  He must feel this same horrible sadness every time he looks at her or thinks of her.  While he cares for her so much, he has to get away for just a little bit so that he's strong enough to care for her when he's home.  If he didn't, the sadness would carry him away.

I'm blessed with small children who want to laugh and play and hug and kiss and who look at me with joy-filled eyes.  I can cry on my drive home and let the weight of sadness be mostly forgotten -- at least for a while -- when I'm greeted at the door with smiling faces, big hugs and wet kisses.  Even the dog smiles and wags her tail when I come home.

If I didn't have this little bit (or lotta bit) of happiness at home, I think that I could completely loose myself.  I will miss her so much. 

Magic muffins

Yesterday, I was working at my parents' house while my mom slept and got the munchies so I raided the stash of great food that their friends have brought by.  There was one package that said "magic muffins."  That caught my attention.  What kind of magic were they talking about?  With boomers it could mean lots of things.  "Hey," I thought.  "Why not?  I wouldn't mind taking a magic muffin ride this afternoon."

I enjoyed one muffin with my coffee.   I soon realized that maybe the magic wasn't what I was thinking.  It was really a stretch.  While my mom does have cancer and medicinal mary jane is well thought of by many, their friends are pretty conservative.

Later in the afternoon I had another muffin.  They tasted like maple syrup and had a little sugar on top.

Last night I learned what the "magic" was all about.  Maybe they should be called "clean the pipes" muffins or "muffintivia" or "muffin-lax."  For sure there should be a warning on the package about eating more than one. 

Comfort food

The words comfort food usually bring to mind meatloaf, chicken pot pie, stew or similar foods.  Something that's thick and warm and makes you feel full and happy.  (My comfort foods are nachos and pizza.)  But today I realized that giving food brings us comfort too.  When someone has a baby, we bring over gifts and food.  When someone is sick we send flowers and food.  When someone has a special event or a party we bring a gift and food.  Giving food makes us feel good.  We've done something nice by shopping and/or cooking.

It's hard for us to know what to do when food no longer brings comfort.  My parents' refrigerator is filled with food from friends.  And don't get me wrong -- it's great to have food around when I'm helping my mom and I'm sure that my dad appreciates that he doesn't have to shop or cook.  But my poor mom can't really eat anything outside of vanilla pudding and jello.  So when friends bring over lunch or dinner, she tries to eat something and often ends up getting sick.  She wants to show her friends that she appreciates their effort, but just can't handle the time sitting at the table and her stomach just isn't what it used to be.

When food is taken out of the equation, what do we do?  Some of their friends planted flowers on their deck.  One friend drops off little gifts -- inexpensive things that just make my mom feel loved.  One friend comes over and cleans their house.  But mostly, they bring food because they just don't know what to do and want so much to do something. 

Mothers

I've been thinking a lot about mothering lately.  What it means to be a mother.  What kind of mother I am or could be. What I learned from my own mother. 

I won the lottery in the mom department.  While our lives weren't very "Mayberry," I think that my mom made our childhood pretty wonderful.  Maybe it was because she was a young mom or that she was just really laid back and fun, but I always appreciated my mom.  Even when I was a teen aged bitch, I knew that my mom loved me no matter how horrible I was.

As I spend time with our spirited three-year-old, I realize how difficult it is to do the very most important things for our kids:  listen to them patiently and sympathize with their concerns no matter how trivial.  Laugh with them and break a few "rules" every once in a while.  Hug them and kiss them and make sure that they always feel loved.  Teach, discipline and enjoy them.

Now, when London is screaming at the top of his lungs in the library or throwing a tantrum about breakfast or waking me up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, I pause for a second.  My mom not only put up with our shit, she made us feel like we -- and our trivial problems -- were important.  She made us feel loved no matter what.  I owe it to my mom to treat my kids with just as much kindness and patience and respect. 

And while I'm seconds from loosing my cool almost every day, the idea that I can honor my mom by being a good mom to my kids helps me to keep it together and understand -- at least a little bit -- how London must feel. 

The vampires sleep ... for now

I really shouldn't make that a plural.  Violet sleeps pretty well and usually only wakes up once or twice.  London on the other hand wakes up at least a half dozen times.  His goal is to sneak into bed with us and he's pretty stealth at times.  It's freaky to wake up with a little face right next to you. 

Mama, I have to pee

Mama, I need a drink of water

Mama, my covers fell off

Tonight, they were both asleep before 7:30.  So after I cleaned up the kitchen, I broke into the secret stash of wine and poured myself a big glass before I dug into work.  I have a 100+ page addendum of a presentation to review.  Oh, there really isn't enough wine to make that sound fun.  I'd rather tell you that I sat in a tub or read a great book or talked to a friend or redecorated the house.  Nope, I'm reviewing a media plan.  Still, that's better than fighting with a three-year-old to go to bed.