"down there"

i just bumped my shin ever so gently on the leg of a chair and winced in pain. my legs are really starting to feel the 13.1 miles of running i put on them this morning. 'recovery' .. new territory for me to figure out. once we got home from mankato, i lay in an ice bath for 16 minutes and caught up on my words with friends games. i napped for 2 hours. i'm going to pop some ibuprofin drink a bunch more water and hit my sack soon. maybe elevate my legs while i sleep. go for a walk tomorrow. this half-marathoner willl play it by ear.

last night i realized i was missing a mantra. i put out a call to my facebook peeps for some ideas and connected with two mantras that i used today. "I've got moxy!" and "Think strong. Be strong. Finish strong." both were key to helping me clock a superfast final 5k in the race and so i'll shout out a thanks to Mike C for the first one and Mike S for a link that scored me the second one. the mikes are looking out for me.

pitfalls to avoid for a half marathon:

• do not write your mantra and race plan with sharpie on your arm and hand the night before the race. i wrote my mantra in red and a few other key pieces of information in black. blue sharpie had my three goals on my hand -- all three goals achieved today!! when i woke up i had my mantra on my forehead from sleeping with my arm resting on my head. my hair had streaks of red on the top. i had blue all over the edges of my cell phone cover. i had to spend 6 precious minutes rubbing it all off with soap and water and rewriting it, that could have been spent on the pot pushing out the you know what. just wait til race morning to get the sharpies out.

• do not set your alarm for 630am and expect to leave the hotel room by 7am, having gotten dressed, ate breakfast, and moved your bowels. now i know... coffee takes a little over one hour to work it's magic. the threat of having to poop while running was at the forefront. at 7am, i felt something. so i sent alan down to the hotel lobby for more coffee. i decided to stay at the hotel an extra 20 minutes and forgo the explicit directions from the pacer that i was to meet at 740am at the start line.  

• do not think that a 10-minute drive will only take 10 minutes. we left the hotel at 723am (with a 10 minute drive to the race start) my butt still full of shit. crap. a 10 minute drive turned into much longer as we went the wrong direction two times and hit a detour. as we finally pulled up to the race start i saw people in hats and gloves and long pants and long sleeves and jackets and i'm like what the fuck the weather forecast yesterday said nothing about blasting wind! it was 50-60 degrees on weather.com. ill-prepared clothing wise i grabbed the long sleeve tech shirt which was the only thing i had to put on. i jumped out of the truck at 752am and ran to the porta potty to go pee. stood in line for 5 minutes jumping up and down as an attempt to stay warm. once in the porta potty to pee, i slipped my tech shirt on under my tshirt and just accepted that my legs were going to be frozen for awhile. the wind would have to slow down at some point i rationalized. but my mood quickly turned to elated when swoosh all my poo fell down the hole-- glory be!!!!

• do not worry about pissing your pants during race. i wasted valuable mental energy wondering if the people i was passing were looking at my butt noticing that my shorts were soaked and at my back legs noticing that gravity was bringing pee streams to my socks. i drank a dixie cup filled half with water at every 2 mile aid station. that is not really that much water. at mile 10, i really got some wheels and ran much faster than the first 10 miles. i had to pee immediately as i pulled away from my wonderful pacing group. in my last race, a 10k, i had to pee super bad the last 3 miles and held it as best i could and then expected to rush to the toilet after. but once that 10k race was over the urge to pee was gone and i didn't have to pee for hours. interesting. so i expected the same would be the case this time around.  so i put peeing out of my mind as a phantom pee urge that wasn't going to trick me this time.

• do not expect one race to be the same as another race. by mile 11.5 i was sure this was no phantom and i was wishing i had been doing kegel exercises all these years like my mom told me to do. i hadn't seen a porta potty for a long time and thought about running down the hill and just squatting but there were so many people around. so, i let loose a tiny and let a little pee out. after about a half a mile i knew kegels were a load of b.s. because over that half mile, i mastered the art of letting a little pee out at a time so as not to have a gushing of pee which would be noticeable to the naked eyes of fellow runners that i was passing. (oh yes, i felt glorious to pass people!!) i could feel the small stream connecting to my socks, but as long as the sun didn't hit my legs just at the right time someone happened to be looking, i felt my secret was safe. everyone looked exhausted that i was passing so i was moderately confident no one cared a lick that i was peeing my pants anyway. my shorts were black and i didn't think would show the soaked state they had become. at mile 12 and some change i spied a porta potty with green vacant indication. oh my god, i was debating about taking 30 seconds to stop and let all this pee out in a normal fashion. i wanted a faster time, but i was sick of this cat and mouse game i was playing down there. ducked into the porta potty and could not believe how much i urinated. where was it all coming from? flew out the door and was back on the road in no time.

following is a copy and paste of some of my answers to my running mentor tonight on facebook chat. i am so dog-tired that i cannot recount the race here and i pretty much did in the chat with my mentor. so read on if you like. complete a half marathon

my original plan -pre tibia muscle dealio - was stay with the 10:41 pace group, i even considered the 10:15 group. i def trained for the 10:41 group and could have knocked out a 2:20 for sure, and i'm sure a 2:15 at my best. but i didn't want my leg to be an issue today because i wanted the race to make me excited about grandmas, not scared of it. i TOTALLY pictured myself running the marathon today during the half! i'm super excited about it! sooooo i picked that slow pace to cushion my leg. and it worked. my legs were no problem at all. the first 10 miles felt like an easy training run. i took my headphones off and chatted for about 4miles of it. i DID want to start running faster many times but forced myself to stick with the plan. i kept telling myself, wait til mile 10, wait til mile 10. at mile ten i decided i would kick it down and run my last 5k as fast as i could, if my leg felt fine up til that point. and it did! so i did! i felt so strong pulling away from the pacer!! that was my fave moment of the race  

my fastest 5k race is 27:00 and i am certain my time was under 30 today and pretty sure it was very close to a 28. i didn't think to set up my ipod to do lap times or whatever to know for sure. but i know what time i left that pacer. and that points to about a 28:10 but it's not exact so i'm just saying sub 30. but that's freaking fast for me after already running 10 miles!!  

i did not have a single negative thought in my mind during the run. in my 10k women rock race i was bombarded with negative self talk and that race was REALLY hard. i pushed myself every second and could not have gone faster... THAT WAS A RACE. i mean i felt like i was racing. today i didn't feel like i was racing. felt like i was training. i didn't cry at the end like i thought i would since i'm so emotional and was crying at the speakers yesterday for gods sake. but i think it's because in my mind i didn't 'race' today.  

but i liked how i was so good to myself with positive feelings!!! so while YES i know i i could have run it much faster than a 2:24:21 i now know i can control myself during a race. i had a very fun time. i felt powerful. i was strong. now i have a personal best half, that i can crush next half. i will race the next one and i will love to hate that race.

yes, i am very good at doing what i'm told with this running business THANK YOU for all your help so far!! i have you on my list of influential people i am writing for each of the 26 miles of the marathon you got me into running, and you have sustained me through the months with support. i get frantic sometimes and you help calm me down with wisdom and advice. i appreciate you so much! thanks!

i high fived LOTS OF kids and adults!! i thanked all the volunteers and i thanks the soldiers for their service. i got that from you, and it makes me feel so good when i say "thank you for volunteering". why in the hell do i even run is what i said to myself over and over in my women rock 10k!! i was SO GLAD that was over! but i knew i ran my best and that was the key part to thrill me. that is why today wasn't as thrilling of a race, because i wasn't running my best. i ran a calculated race, which gave me a good race experience like you said. RUNNING IS SO MENTAL!! wow!!

mankato half marathon madness

following are the pictures in my head two days pre-race as a first time half-marathon runner.  

stop reading HERE if your own picture of me is ladylike and dainty.  carry on if you are okay with no holds barred poop talk.

• i took a shower today.  after, i had extra time to get ready and since i don't wear makeup or fix my hair, i picked up the nail clippers and set to trimming my toe nails.  just before making the first incision, i pictured myself cutting in too deep on a nail and reeling from that toe pain on mile 12.  i whipped those clippers down faster than you can say "you are paying good money to run 13.1 miles?? what an idiot."   

• after giving my recent pooping history a great deal of thought this morning, i realized my bowels have been under active for the past two days.  after picturing a turtle poking it's head out on mile 9,  i promptly drank loads of coffee and then spent beaucoup time in the bathroom vigorously rubbing my outer thighs coaxing over-activity.  i have googled pictures on the internet of peeps that shit their pants in marathons.  i don't want to be the first to do it in a half mary.

• my kids and i ate chipotle (my favorite) for supper yesterday.  last night when my daughter roni and i went to lift weights at the gym, i was stinking up the free weights room over and over.  the farting was ridiculous and amped up at least 10 fold over my usual performance.  fortunately we were the only souls at the gym at 10 on thursday night or i would have had to wrestle with the distracting (not to mention uncomfortable) task of holding it all in.   last night's farting-fracas fresh on my mind ...  i thought of my lunch date today.   my bestie had picked mexican food.   with another dousing of mexican food, i pictured myself with uncontrollable flatulence on race day and i can't handle one more race type thing to worry about.   i demanded a lunch relocation and scarfed down a plate of fettucinni instead.       

• picking a pair of underwear for today was a 2 minute process which is 1 minute 55 seconds longer than it usually takes.  i've no more time to clean laundry before the big race so my first pair sampled had to be tossed back into my undies bin.  it was so comfortable and no muss no fuss that i knew these just had to be my race-day pair.  (why is a single underwear garment referred to as a pair of underwear? because there are two butt cheeks contained inside?  and should the proceeding sentence have started with 'they were' rather than 'it was'?)     i pictured myself being snuggy free on race day. ahhhhh.

 if you think of it on sunday morning, send me thoughts such as these that i will be telling myself over and over when i have the insane urge to walk:

 "keep putting one foot in front of the other, greta"  

"think of that fat burger and double basket of fries waiting for you at the end, greta"

"when it's over you don't have to ever do this again but today you are doing it, keep running, greta"

"some people don't get to run, you do, so get your ass moving, greta"

"your legs are strong.  your legs are willing.  you can ice the shit out of them later, greta"

alright folks, that wraps it up for today's over-sharing of pre-race anxieties.  deep breath.  i can do it.   i can do it.  i can do it.  

that's what MEA is for

set the coffee pot to brew, mike.   pour a cup; i'm bringing back my bloggy blog.  no promises, but i've had the urge to write lately and MEA weekend feels like as good a time as any to set my fingers loose.    i had two bright blue folders in my hands along with the massive department of education checklist for monitoring those files as i was leaving my office today. 

 i turned to have one last look at the tens of tens of box elder bugs that inhabit my office, pointed my middle finger at them, and then i threw those files down on my table.  i fully intended to bring the files home over the 4-day break from school, to start the hours of work they will entail.  but, as it turns out i said fuck you to those files and those nasty creatures that ping against my cheek and arm while i'm responding to emails at work.  i hastily decided to have a vacation instead.  

first up, wine with girlfriends.  i hustled home before i could rethink my decision with the files.   (a decision for which i will pay dearly in my week-day evenings for the next two weeks.)    i brushed my teeth, giddily knowing they would be turning red later.  made a measured decision that i was too lazy to walk or bike to wildflower and possibly too winey to drive home after.  i went in search of al for a lift.  

found him loading the truck and trailer up with cut brush from trimming the overgrown forest in our back yard.  al commented, "i haven't trimmed these since before bert's accident."  ignoring my response of "i don't think you ever trimmed those", i shifted gears and quickly followed up with a compliment about how much yard work he accomplished today.  i was asking for a ride, no need to muddy the waters by highlighting past yard neglect.  

i asked if he wanted help hauling the brush.  and i threw in that the girls were all set for my arrival if he didn't need any help.   a quick no was offered up, yay!, and al's reply to my request for a ride, "certainly! that's what MEA is for right!" was a delight!   we hopped in the truck after loading up a final pile.  

well, no.  not really.  MEA weekend isn't entirely about me chumming around with my lady friends swilling wine and eating soup and candy corn.  as a speech therapist i've neither been interested in nor attended the teacher workshops that MEA promotes.  my speech-specific workshops are in april.   and i plan to, attend those, specifically. 

 for me, MEA is a break from the post-summer SHOCK of being back to full time days of teaching little people.  we've almost been back to it for two months now, and i relish this break.  a teacher must be "on" at all times and my communication challenges this year are top shelf toughies.   break, do your job.  

gotta scoot.  time to share more VOTE NO and running pictures on my facebook.   

 stay up late to write thegretalist for old times sake

shelby shelby shelby

i ran my second 5k this morning.     my very first 5k was a few weeks ago on apr 21 and i ran that in 32:26.   what follows are my musings about the race.  

 i went into the race today with the goal of having fun, as prescribed by so many wise people.   and i actually did have fun.  al went with to cheer me on and take photos and vids for posterity.   every kilometer or so there he was with a beaming smile and hands a clappin and camera a snappin.   it was energizing for sure.

also, i was given fab advice by mike s from the wildflower s family.   they have a fancy door.   and he's a runner.   he suggested i say 'thank you' and give a smile to each volunteer i saw on the road.   even when i felt really tired i forced myself to say 'thanks' and wave.   at this 5k, almost all of the volunteers were police officers in uniform.   every turn i made, cop.   cop cop cop.   i felt plenty protected.   and hopefully they felt plenty thanked.    all my thanking, my waving, and then the stern looks that turned into surprised smiles from the cops  helped keep my mind off the running and like mike and a fellow livestrong.commer says, smilers finish faster!  

i had the lake as backdrop the whole race.  that was pretty, though the haze and misty rain prevented me from taking in it's full beauty i'm sure.  no matter, i had my visor on to keep my eyes clear and dry, once again mike s to the rescue.

but even mike, who seems to know EVERYTHING about running, could not prepare me for the tears that would come at the pre-race festivities.  the race proceeds benefit special olympics minnesota.   shelby was there to tell all the runners (i have attached a number to my shirt so now i'm included in this group) what competing in sports means to him.   he told us what athletic competitions do for his self esteem, his well being, and his spirit.  he rattled off all of his awards and places in his events.  shelby gave us a short history lesson about how the special olympics began and stressed the importance that they continue for many years to come.

he told us all these awesome things by using a dynavox voice output device, as shelby explained that he has autism and isn't able to speak using his voice.   but just like every other person on the planet, he has plenty to say.   so he uses his dynavox to talk.   his mother stood proudly next to shelby as he gave his speech.  i couldn't take my eyes off either of them and could have listened to him talk all day.

shelby smiled often but at one point he wasn't, and his kind mom turned and smiled at him and whispered 'smile'.   he immediately showed his pearly whites and looked up at me.   i had made a ton of eye contact with shelby and his mom during his talk in my near frantic effort to soak up every feeling they wanted us to feel.   i made sure my face showed how appreciative i was that they came to tell us about special olympics.

and when shelby smiled that big smile, and looked right at me,  it was at that very moment that i fell in love with running.

you see, during a run i usually spend a fair amount of time thinking about how lucky i am that i CAN run,  that my body and mind works together to coordinate in order for me to run.  i know how that ability can change in an instant and i see it every day in my own family.   but mostly, while i'm running my overriding thoughts are about how hard it is, about how much i don't like it, about how much i want to stop running and just walk.  i have this inner voice telling me 'no one will know if i stop, i don't even like doing this, quit being a poseur'.     i run four times per week so that kinda sucks to have this voice chanting at me that i'm barking up a ridiculous tree thinking i am a runner.

but shelby helped me shut that voice off.  i didn't hear it in today's run. for the first time that voice shut the hell up.  instead, while i was running today, i was saying to myself  "I am awesome!  I am awesome!   I am awesome!"

 shelby's speech moved me to tears and a feeling of sheer joy that special olympics are alive and strong.   i am grateful that i heard him speak today.   i thank you, shelby, for giving me the confidence i needed to change from a poseur to a runner.

the other thing that got me moving faster was weird and not planned.  i usually run 4 miles or 3 miles and set my ipod workout program to custom and punch in the miles and i'm off.    the lovely female unbiased ipod voice tells me my pace every so often.  "2 miles completed.  pace is 10:55 per mile."... something like that.  i use this key information to either run faster or slower depending on how fast i want my training run to be that day.

today, i set my ipod to the stock-choice '5k'.   when i pushed the button around the 1k mark to check my pace it said "8:33 pace"  so i slowed down a tiny, thinking 'simmer down girlie you don't want to wear yourself out on the first k'  but i didn't really feel like i was running faster than i should be running and i was keeping beat with my playlist that i painstakingly selected to shoot for a 30 minute 5k.

  then around 3k i hit the button and it said i had a "12:44" pace.     what!??!?!??!?   i hadn't slowed THAT much.  i was so confused and so bummed that i was running a way slower 5k than i knew i was capable of.   i had already ran it in 32:26.   i said fuck it and  i sped up and refused to check the pace again.  

i prepared myself to see a sub-par time as i kicked it in near the end.  i didn't have much energy left for kicking though, which again, seemed so strange since i was running 12 minute miles according to my ipod.

as i passed the finish line the official time read 27:28 and i couldn't believe it.   i was so thrilled!  i checked the total time on my ipod and it matched the race clock.   all was right with the world.   my pace for the race was 10:02.   i would have celebrated but i was out of breath and needed to keep walking lest i keel over.

there was NO WAY i was running 12 minute miles in that race.  i ran faster than ever so it's no wonder i had only an itty bitty baby kick at the end.    i figure the pace readings must be different for a custom mile verses a 5k selection on the ipod.

 i guess this tells me i have to learn how to 'feel' my pace, learn my body signals, run by instinct.     i thought i could count on electronics to do it for me.   good old instincts.  ipod got nothing on you, instincts.

but really, i don't give a rats ass at this point, since my confusion spurred me to run faster and now i have set a new bar for myself on 5k races.   never thought i could get under 30 min this soon.    i am new to running so i'm not sure just how significant shaving 5 minutes off my time is, but it seems to me like this must be super dee duper note worthy.   i've already notified runner's world magazine.

i'm a runner.  i am awesome!

this is immediately after the race, i'm so jazzed by my great time so i'm starting to tell al about my musings

then i realize i'm not ready to talk yet and need to keep walking to catch my breath

exhausted and happy, waiting for my turn at the porta potty to  take care of  some turtles

me want my internet cookies

due to a sucky modem failure, we've been freed from the shackles of WIFI at our house since friday.   on friday afternoon i rushed home from work to load a few apps to my ipad, but no internet connection.   say whaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.

completed a few trouble shooting steps, nada.   'just keep breathing',  i kept telling myself.   breath in, breath out.   'it's going to be fine.  al will be home soon and he fixes near everything.   al to the rescue.'  

as i pounced on him walking in the door, i explained the problem.    after suggesting the couple trouble shooting steps i'd already tried, he declared 'late bill'.   i shuddered.

remember back a few blogs when i delayed and delayed doing the mail and the bills?  well i've never delayed so long before, and although i finally did get everything sent off (almost) on time, the bill for frontier was sent on a monday, due two days later, or risk being cut off.   gasp. 

al posited that our frontier was shut off and did not add "on account of your laziness", thus HE risk being cut off.    i knelt to the ground and shouted 'why me god?' and then remembered that frontier controls the dish network too.   it still worked.  praise be! 

al spent an hour on the phone with frontier dealing with our predicament.   they will send a new modem.   how soon?   2 day air.  knowing there are almost always glitches, i figured we were looking at a fortnight without internet. 

in through the nose, out through the mouth.   


short list of casualties and benefits from my wifi-less weekend:

• denied two ipad apps that were only free on friday to honor autism awareness month.  boo.
• discovered that, when i'm forced to, i count calories very well on my own now after using livestrong.com calculators for 4 months. yay.
• played farkle with my kids and paid more attention to them.  yay.
• hadn't a clue what was happening in people's lives since i had no facebook and i forgot how to talk to people face to face.  boo.
• read a book, got a bit of a start on it anyway, since i was paying so much attention to my kids.   an 'everything' guide to running.   yay.
• got at least 2 hours more sleep than usual since i had no livestrong.com forums to peruse for fitness tips or nutrition blurbs.   yay.
• had no livestrong.com forums to peruse to keep my health and fitness candles burning brightly.   boo.
• went to a sunday evening movie and laughed my butt of at a hilarious scene of two women having a heated argument using elmo and cookie monster voices.  yay.

survive without wifi   

although i did survive, and some might even say thrived, without my internet, i'm not happy about it.   can i bring a cot here to my office this week?

ramble on rose

rambling number one:

"some guys hate it when women fart, but personally, i like a little skunk in the trunk."  this was a tweet by rob delaney on twitter today.   if i weren't married to al, i'd be driving to twitter right now to find rob delaney and make him fall in love with me.   i would let farts all day and he would smell my farts all day and tell me how much he loved the skunk in my trunk.   i would swoon every time he said it.    he would feed me baked beans by the bowl full every night.   and then just wait around talking to me until they kicked in.

unfortunately he would have to leave his wife and kids, and since i am not in the business of home wrecking, i'll stick happily with my al.   but COME ON, i think rob delaney and i are meant to be together.   or at least i'm meant to read his tweets.  

rambling number two:

jinxing is still the best thing ever.   i find true elation in the moment of a spontaneous jinx.  being that in-tune in thought with another person is just plain rad.

rambling number three:

camping club.  getting an invitation to camping club today was my favorite moment of the day.  thinking ahead a few years to an empty nest and that al and i will once again go camping together, just the two of us, were the thoughts that consumed me while i skipped rope at bootcamp tonight.  

rambling number four:

i just threw away a candy cane shaped, half m & m filled, christmas present from four years ago.  it was on my book shelf for that long.  i just bit into one of the m & ms and the candy coating did not have the crisp crunch i expect.  it went bad.  surprising.  dollars to donuts i would have pegged m & ms to last forever.  certainly not get stale.  the chocolate was not right either.  lost some sweetness.   throw it out!

this is my new motto. throw it out!   the candy cane is in the garbage now.  i am having a hard time with this.    i'm just in the infancy stages of adopting this motto.   i am a pack rat of the worst kind.  i'm not 'hoarders' bad, but could easily careen out of control into hoarders direction without putting into action a new motto.   it is equally hard for me to throw away things as it is to save money.   bah humbug.





rambling number five:

my uniform in the late evening is pale pink hoody with hood up.    that candy cane is haunting me.  still.

bragging alert

pictured to the right is what i should be focusing on right now.  not CJ, but paying those bills and sorting through that mail.   i am about to shirk my duties yet again and opt instead to open a bottle of wine, play words with friends.  the house is quiet tonight, i'm planning to stay in, possibly get drunk.   good grief i hope i find the motivation for this mail stack tomorrow.  i know there are overdues in there.  it's not going to be pretty when i find the courage to sift through those papers.   i wasn't a bump on a log though today.  i got stuff done.  i did the dishes, three loads of laundry, made the bed and laid the papers out to haunt me.  i thought about scooping the cat poop but didn't get much further on that task yet.  

oh yeah, and i ran my very first 5k race!   this opposite-of-a-morning-person was up early for running.  my oldest son bert and i made it to the race on time.  he biked, i ran.  there were pitfalls and hilarity and pure unexpected what the fuck moments that i'm not detailing here (sorry running inspiration mike s from wildflower).

let's just say, that as my coach, bert was sure to keep my mind completely off of running, and squarely on him.   while i was in turns irritated and exhilarated during the race, on the drive home, all we did was laugh about our nutso morning.   i realized that bert's antics kept me from thinking about the race, thinking about my time.  and although i had to stop running several times to tend to him and a few times i used a boat load of negative energy to scream 'keep both hands on the steering wheel!', overall i ran the race faster than any other 5k training run in the last month.  so, coach, your devious comedy of errors worked to give me my first baseline 5k time which is my fastest time yet!  thank you bert!   pictured to the left is me with about 1 kilometer left to go.   i cannot even believe the luck of my friend snapping this shot.   i'm hovering above the path, in the air, smile on my face.   having this photo for posterity is rad.  thank you sd!   bert is behind me but i cropped him out to protect the innocent and annoying.

then, all of a sudden, this afternoon after a nap when i was refreshed... i had a wild hair.   i tried on my favorite pair of jeans of all time.  i stopped wearing them in 2006 when i could no longer hoist them up over my thighs.   i thought there was a slim chance i could wiggle into these jeans, but i knew for sure it would be close.  and close gives me the next bout of motivation needed to continue my quest for fitness and health. and more importantly, a kicking ass in jeans.   i was alone when i pulled them on.  good thing because i shrieked and yelped with delight for minutes.  THEY FIT.   shock and awe.   pictured here is me meeting a goal i set in january.  hell to the ya.


i really wish i would have put running a 5k on my bucket list.  someday i am going to have to actually write a bucket list.

gross just gross

i exercise now.  and now that i exercise i feel that i can make judgements about other people's choices.  judging is not the right thing to do, but once, just this once, i'm going to judge.  well, and other times i will judge too.  but not about exercise or diet again.   mostly about the way you parent.  

whiny, annoying kids are products of weak parenting.  so if your kid is making a ruckus all through my meal out at a restaurant and you don't contain it, it's judgement day.  very rarely do i drag out rolling dagger eyes, but that gets me close.

but this judgement is a seriously negative one about this wacky way i just saw on the internets that some women are using to shed 10-20 pounds before their wedding day, to fit into their dream wedding dress.

http://gma.yahoo.com/k-e-diet-brides-using-feeding-tubes-rapidly-080053646--abc-news-health.html

good god what is this world coming to?  drastic measures for 10 pounds of pure vanity.    you don't have time to exercise every day but you have the hours of time it must have taken for appointments and to be deemed a candidate, and to go through the process?    but you can't get out and walk for a half hour?  because you are too tired.  um ya.. you idiot.  that's because you only ingest 800 calories per day through your fricken nose by choice, and have zero energy.  gross just gross.  

shying away from judging others (only in small quantities) is not because i'm a really great and noble person who just lives and lets live.   i remain free from judging (most of the time) because i despise confrontation.    

i refrain from judging because it usually requires supporting evidence, further argument, rationale for my stance against whatever you are doing that i think is stupid.   and all that is not my cup of tea.   

i will pay whatever price tag you put on that piece-of-crap-to-you-treasure-to-me salt and pepper shaker that i want at your yard sale.   way over marked?  makes no nevermind to me.  if i decide to buy it, i've decided to pay the asked-for price.  i don't even like to be in the presence of a haggler in mid haggle.

i am married to one of these.  when he starts his approach to the card table where the rummage sale lady is sitting with her little portable radio,  i am so uncomfortable and start reddening in the face.  i quickly pretend i don't know him and turn to look at a velvet painting for sale.   

al's been kind enough to listen to my protests and pleadings about how much i dislike this whole charade.  i fear rejection so much that i can't even stand the thought of my loved one's low ball offer getting rejected at a yard sale.   but al's a good dude and now he forewarns me when he's digging out his five spot to pay for $12 worth of goods.  this gives me time to duck out to the car before he gets to the card table.  

as i'm slinking away to the vehicle, al's words ring in my ear.. "they want to get rid of it, or it wouldn't have a sticker on it.   it either goes home with me or they take it back in their house.   they'll take an offer."   and i know he's right.  they always take his offer or he accepts their counter, or they take his final offer.  yes, it goes that far sometimes.  he offers.  they counter.  he comes back.  they settle.  in a heartbeat i will take the hit on my pocketbook and pay the $7 difference rather than suffer through that back-and-forth.   

anyway.    fear of rejection  and confrontation are the main reasons i don't judge people (very often).  i suck at making arguments.    persuading someone to my way of thinking about a controversial issue, nah.  or even a few dollars off at a sale, nah.   persuading someone to join my volleyball team, sure.   i'm an opportunistic persuader. 

and most certainly, i'm an anti-adventurer of the highest order.  

 "gross just gross" is the extent of my argumentative capabilities.    i'm happy it takes all kinds.

  

blog-blockers

i neglected to tell you a few things about me.

one, i don't floss enough and now have a foul build up of fill in the minuscule space between my bottom middle teeth.

two, that i have all the basic addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division facts down pat, except that i have to count on my fingers for 7+5, 7+4, 8+4, and 8+5.

three, and most central to this particular blog, i get wrapped up in something and throw all my focus into it.   often to the detriment of the proper amount of energy spent on other tasks.  i don't know good balance.  

but i do a really really good job with the one thing on which i focus my time and energy.   so i certainly feel vindicated.

being hyperfocused in time and energy is what i do best.  finding balance in my interests is what i have yet to accomplish.   it's like all or nothing with me.   well that is about to change.

when i first started 'the greta list' i could not concentrate on anything else.  hour to hour i checked the stats.   4 people read my blog in the last 15 minutes!  i would do a backflip.   i got one new follower!  i would start brainstorming a thank you gift to send.   i was spending upwards of one and one half to two hours writing each night and loving every second of it.    in my usual fashion, i immersed myself in my utter enjoyment of writing this blog.  kids, life, and work be damned.  i have readers!!

but then i started feeling fat.   and so it began.  

the blog-blockers.  

first was livestrong.  this is where i turned when i decided to shed the 30 pounds i've packed on since the glory days of high school.  i became active in the livestrong forums, bantering, asking questions, bragging about my shrinkage.   i painstakingly measured every morsel i put in my mouth and counted every single calorie.  seeing the scale move down was fabulous, but my favorite part was the data, the record keeping, the charting.   i get my kicks keeping track of things.  

 and by became active, i mean became obsessed.  i replaced my month-long addiction to the greta list with livestrong.  being an active member of an online community and charting weight loss and exercise takes a lot of time.  i was so engrossed, i couldn't find the time to blog.  but i was getting my writing fix on the forums, so my needs were being met.   i'm hoping to find some loyalty to you in this process, and maybe just maybe, have reader needs shift up a notch in my thinking.

i cut a few pounds with the ole calories in/calories out technique and i guess i started to get too comfortable with the whole record keeping aspect because BAM next came blog-blocker part two.  

running.   say whaaa??  that's what i say to myself every time i'm lacing up my sneakers.     yes running.   running for exercise wasn't enough to keep my mind occupied though.   not enough data collection so i upped the ante and decided i had to run a 5k.   planning training runs, picking running loops, having the proper attire and footwear, keeping a running log.   good gravy i hit the jackpot.  i like entering the run stats into my running log nearly as much as the feeling when i complete a run.   eh, more actually.   i have seven columns in my running log.   DAY DISTANCE TIME COURSE NOTES: Heart Rate, Weather, Temperature, Mood   CALORIES BURNED     MUSIC.   and i consider this a cursory running log.   and my running log made me discover google documents.  

and who can forget:  taxes.

the weather.  it warmed up and was sunny in March, dandelions have been spotted.  normally i'm all too happy to sit on my ass in front of my laptop on livestrong, google documents, and reality steve.   but unseasonably warm weather made me take it to the streets.

children.   they always need something.   like my attention.  hugs.  food.  discipline.  a listening ear.  a kick in the pants.   it's always something with kids.   why can't they just be little adults?

i am going to strive for some semblance of balance.  i'm going to make an attempt to put the proper amount of attention on our newest craze - gardening.  i cannot let it overtake my other obsessions.  there must be a way.     kids, veggie patch, running, cutting, vitamin d.   the cold front that's here will take care of wanting to be outside at the moment.  and the greta list.

i'm back.  i'm going to shoot for a couple blogs a week.  a couple bushels of veggies a week.  a couple runs a week.  a couple hours of fun data collection per week.  a pound lost per week.   my ear and heart to my kids every day.

i love you bloggy blog.   i will find space for you in my free time.  even if it means, just a couple a hours of sleep per night.

LONG LIVE ROGER!

you know what fucking sucks?  pancreatic cancer fucking sucks.

you know what fucking sucks?  a kid who kills himself fucking sucks.

you know what fucking sucks?  a friend in a bad place fucking sucks.

this has been a two days of tragedy in my town, in my children's lives, and in my family.

i haven't even told my kids yet that their great uncle that they've been camping with, caught fish with, that they love, has died this morning.  there is too much other trauma all around us with a teenager from our area committing suicide.   and too much worry about a friend.   this all hits close to home too, and old wounds are rubbed raw.

my uncle roger passed this morning from pancreatic cancer and i have to hold it together so they don't fall apart.   being the adult is really really really hard.  but the people in this world with the toughest row to hoe now are carol and her and roger's kids.   roger was a swell guy.   a really swell guy.  having roger absent from their lives will be painful and devastating.  i ache for them.

i think that the unseasonably warm and pleasant weather was ordered up specially for roger.   roger is the quintessential outdoorsy guy-- built beautiful homes for a living, fished, camped, you name it, roger was outside doing it.      typically this time of year it's still cold, snowy, and icy, and everyone is so sick of winter we just can't stand it anymore.  but not this march.  warm temps, warm sun.   roger eked  out as much life as he could the last month while at home with his family and all his friends.  and he spent many days outside.  outside walking the lake or sunning on the deck in the fresh crisp warm air that he loved.

 we went to see rog last weekend and i told the kids 'no sad puppy dog faces', roger wants to laugh and have a good time and enjoy visiting.  and they were chatty and happy and laughy and we had a grand time and i was so incredibly proud of them.  we all joked around and had great last memories with roger.

case in point:   we noticed my awesome grandpa (92 years!) was drinking coffee from a black mug that said "over the hill and off the pill" on it.   and we were yucking it up so hard, unbeknownst to grandpa.  so for one of our pictures, we arranged grandpa in the photo, all of us huddled around roger, and sneakily made sure gramps had his mug turned just so!  lordy lordy lordy, what a vision!

my adorable auntie carol, on the right, is the most real person i know.  she likes a good fart, like me.  she tells it like it is, doesn't pull any punches, and she's a total hoot.  she loves everyone.   i love her very much.  her and roger's marriage is one that i hold in high regard and hope to have as happy of a marriage as roger and carol have had.   as carol would say- happy wife, happy life.   LONG LIVE ROGER!  

unfinished business

my non-exhaustive list of things i never get to...

• dexter - first season.   in my stocking last christmas.   yet to break the seal.   dying to watch it.

• stack of soft covers from my sister.  cracked one or two open in the last half year.   prior to that, only finished two her these borrowed books - Shit My Dad Says (on an airplane trip) and The Glass Castle (page turner).  on deck, a plethora that i never take time to read and should probably just return to my sis:  running with scissors, the secret life of bees, the dragon tattoo series, (these are all book titles that should be underlines but i'm too lazy), my beloved david sedaris, jodi picoult, on and on.  i actually think i have loaned a few out to others, so i better collect before i return.  eek.

• photographs umpteen photographs on my laptop, i mean thousands and thousands of disorganized pictures to sort and group and categorize so i can find one when i want to put one in this freaking blog.   i think of the perfect picture and search for 20 minutes before i give up.  i harrumph away from my laptop in disgust.  then i cut and paste something from the web that is close but doesn't remotely look like me.

• bert's thank you cards for his graduation gifts.  oh my god.  he wrote and got about a fifty sent out last summer.  then he petered out and that project has gathered inches-thick dust on my shelf.   and tonight, my middle child brought his high school graduation announcements home.   i don't see a 'catching up' in my future. 

• putting this miracle gel that my mom gave me on my double chin that is supposed to tighten it up.  this one is a stunner - have no idea what the hell i'm waiting for on this one.    

• the not-so-urgent pile of mail in the red folder.  the urgent bundle i go through bimonthly (yes this is my special recipe for bill paying tardiness).   the red folder is pretty much folder garbage.   if i could throw things away, everything in the red folder would be trashed.  but since i can't, i maintain the red folder of months, years old stuff that i kid myself that someday i'll go through it and get that stuff done.

• a nightstand drawer which doubles as a cord cemetery.   chock full of cords, old mp3 players, garbage phones and cameras, more cords, earphones, a bunch of electronic crap that doesn't work and that i don't need.   i should clean it out someday to make room for my unread heap of books.   if those books were in my nightstand drawer, i may actually crack one open.   thus i would have a reason not to return them to my sister yet since i'm at least 3 short.  

,

flowers, nah. jewelry, nope.

i've never read a book written specifically to help women understand men better, but it doesn't take a rocket scientist to know that women and men have fundamental differences.   when one has a basic understanding of the differences and accepts them as fact, then everyone has a chance to be happy and satisfied.

on the advice of one of my kid's therapists, a few years back i read an internet synopsis of The Five Love Languages by Gary Chapman.  no time to read the whole book.   i was too busy figuring out how to get my wild child to clean up the rotting jack-o-lantern he just threw at the door.

  there were a total of two books i read cover to cover out of the 17 books (yes i counted) that were suggested to me and/or given to me during the first two years of extreme parenting.   i chose the two shortest books out of the bunch.   both were extremely valuable, helping us immensely in our parenting.   these were the winners of my precious time.

i certainly was drawn to both books by the catchy titles and for sure the picture on the nancy's book spoke right to me.  that bloody knife was in our future i was sure of it.  time was of the essence.  in paperback, each was only 101 and 111 pages respectively, ding ding ding we have a winner!

i would get pissed every time another do-gooder with straight A child would suggest a book to me.   you think i have time to read??    i was wasting away because i didn't have the time or the energy to eat.  much less read.   get that book out of my face, and take one of my kids for an hour to give me a break.   let your well behaved smarty pants play with my nutjob and let osmosis do it's work.  

 so, while i didn't read The Five Love Languages, i learned all i needed to know from skimming a short description about each love language from the internets.    http://www.5lovelanguages.com/learn-the-languages/the-five-love-languages/   i could easily identify which love language one each of my children spoke.   this knowledge worked like a charm to bring me closer to each of my kids and develop our attachments.  that therapist was a genius.

i didn't give a thought back then to al's love language.   putting kids first causes havoc on a marriage.   our kids were all consuming and there was no time to focus on our relationship.   nearly all of our conversations revolved around one or all of the children.  constant parenting sessions at the expense of  make out sessions.

we scraped by on one weekend per month together, by way of respite.   for two years, we spent respite almost the same way every month.    al and i propped our eyes open with toothpicks to spend one evening together.   the other day was spent doing our own thing with friends or just sleeping, until we had to gear up to pick them back up on sunday afternoon.   some sundays it was really fucking hard to get into that car, turn the ignition key, and steer north.  

but i digress.

 i'm wondering if alan got his hands on this book.   or simply if his intuition has pointed him in the right direction to more frequent relations.  whatever the case, we are both happier and satisfied.   my man has always been down for sexytimes pretty much any time.   let's just say i don't match his 'drop of a hat' style.

i need to be greased with a generous helping of 'acts of service' with a side of 'physical touch', to put a Love Language fine point on it.   i speak the these two love languages fluently.   it appears al has ordered up some rosetta stone to hone his wife's love language skills.  

for the past month, i get up and drag myself into the shower.  when i come back to the bedroom to get dressed, the bed is made.  THE BED IS MADE.  smoothly.  no bulgy bunching of sheet underneath.  the comforter corners match on the ends.  it is a work of art al has given to me, but it really is an 'act of service' he has done for me.    ding ding ding, winner winner chicken dinner!

 i usually sit down on the bed for a spell and check my facebook, or send soupkoolers a crushing blow in words with friends.  then i get dressed.  a made bed starts my day off with peace and organization and harmony.   exactly what i need at the start of the day.   i didn't even know this was something i longed for until i saw it the first time.  

some girls want diamonds.  for me, just make the bed and i'll jump at the chance to mess it up with you later.  

threats should be full

you know what i get really excited about?    this:   kid is a total shit in the grocery store.   crying, whining, screaming, begging.    mom says "if you do that one more time we are leaving this store and going home".     kid whines again.    mom scoops kid out of the shopping cart, walks away from cart full of groceries, and heads out the door with a stunned kid in tow.

guess how many times i've been excited?  once.  and i go grocery shopping a lot.   and i've been to walmart plenty.  walmart is the breeding ground for unruly children and empty-threat parents.

the one time i saw the mom follow through on her going home threat, i wanted to jump up on the conveyor belt, throw my hands in the air, and shout to her "well done mama!  a few more times of that and you won't have to deal with whining at the store anymore!"  at all.  no more.  seriously.  

every time i follow through on a consequence for my child, it hurts me in some way.  the usual way it sucks for me is that when my kid has no privileges, that means i am pretty much grounded too.   but thems the breaks.  i'm the parent.  so, parent, parents.

kids are super smart.  even the dumb ones.    they try it all.   they ask me for something in front of a stranger or grandma or auntie carol thinking that i couldn't possibly say no in front of them.   what do i care?   oooooooh my aunt will think i'm a strict parent who doesn't budge.  rather be that than a parent with a whiny kid.

shorty shortelson tonight folks.   and a little preachy.  or a lot.   probably was too tired to write wittily tonight, but couldn't get this idea out of my head after running into one to many noodley parents that were pushed around by their kids.  

al just walked in.   he asked me:  "are you hotboxing it in here?"   i didn't know what he meant.  until he started spraying air freshener all over the room and doing the sort of laughy smile where he's trying hard to show me i'm still cute but he's really grossed out.  i didn't even realize i was farting.   and now we all know the term hotboxing.  

if you give a pig a pancake

for the first time since january 1, i had the time to exercise, but instead opted to remain at my restricted calories for the night.   as i lose each pound, the total amount of calories i consume each week lowers by 5-10.   because i've lost 14 pounds, i'm now at 1265 calories allowed each day.

unless i exercise.  then i can eat back those calories burned.  i love to eat.  i love to eat!  so i exercise 5-6 days per week.  rarely am i hungry and not able to satisfy that hunger with food.  i burn up so many calories, there are usually some left at the end of the day.

at 7pm tonight, i had the all clear to go to snap fitness.  i had an hour.  i only need 45 minutes to burn 450 calories on the elliptical.   i set it at level 10 and the sweat drips off me.   that gets me ample chips and guacamole while i'm watching 'the bachelor' finale.   throw in an apple dipped in chunky peanut butter and i'm in heaven.   i'm willing to do 20 minutes of kickboxing for 4 caramels.    i love to eat.

i came in the bedroom to change into workout clothes.    i see my brand new ipod.   just bought it yesterday.   freshly loaded with songs.   i decide to make a fast paced song playlist to really get my body pumping on the elliptical.  i start flipping through songs reliving the glory days when each was my fave.  i notice an orange and blue banner in my periphery and so i sit at my laptop to catch up on reality steve.

this is playing out like a laura numeroff children's book, but she'd title mine  if you give a girl a chicken bacon ranch salad.  that salad was the ultimate factor for my decision to stay home and be satisfied with my remaining 149 calories for the night.  i made that salad for supper and every bite was divine.   when the big silver bowl was empty, i felt super satiated and could not have imagined a better meal.   oh so tasty.

rookie mistake.   yes, i was fabulously full and feeling eater's high.   i mistakenly thought that feeling could carry me through sitting for two hours watching ben pick courtney.  of course it didn't.   that salad was long forgotten when hunger pangs came midway through the show.    so i used most of my 149 calories on precious four caramel squares.  quite possibly the best food ever invented.

i have enough calories left for 2 certs.  2 piddly certs.

i learned my lesson.  2 certs does not a robust snack make.  

have really good breath when going to bed

dead mom walking

with just 6 months of pure parenting hell on earth under our belts, right before we nearly fell apart, al and i regrouped.   and figured some shit out.  figured some major shit out.   no, not how to legally put locks on the outside of their bedroom doors, we lost that battle with the social workers.   no, not how to clone ourselves so we could at least match them in number.   and finally, no, not how to render them mute with a remote control.  

but, al and i were always talking about ideas to gain control and their trust.  we'd try the ideas, watch them falter then fail, then come up with new ideas.    we were nothing if not persistent.    

chaos ensued those first six months while we got our bearings.    then, suddenly,  al had a brainchild that ended up being one of our key parenting game changers.  

back in 2004, i vividly remember sulking home from work one day, walking slowly to draw it out as much as possible.   if my neighbors wouldn't have come out worried about me, i'd have crawled.   or just lay there on the sidewalk.   those were my few minutes per day without demands.  those few glorious minutes.

 from the second i woke up, my kids and family craziness were going strong.  then i walked 2 blocks to work.  that was two minutes of peace and quiet.   once at work, preschoolers needed my attention and work politic demands were constant.  stress upon stress.  then i walked 2 blocks back home.  

 dead mom walking.

but after eking out as many seconds as i could on my way home that day, al met me in the driveway.   what the fuck?   was he trying to escape?   busted.   what was he doing out of the house?  where were the kids?   for the first year plus, we could never leave the kids without supervision by one of us, preferably both of us, strength in numbers.   i question, al tells me how he has has each of them in different locations in the house, occupied for at least 10 minutes.

i fall into his arms with gratefulness and awe.  we go into the bathroom and shut the door.  he presents me with a chicken scratched piece of lined paper and pitched his idea.  

here's what it said:

"i pledge allegiance to my family, may we always remain united.  we are all unique, but our differences make us stronger.  i vow to love myself and allow myself to be loved.   i promise to love, honor, and respect my family at all times."

we implemented immediately.  we set up a competition among the kids.  who can memorize the pledge first?   i was shocked that it only took a few days before each of them had it down pat.   one of our kids carried his filled backpack around all day long at school because he couldn't memorize his three digit locker combination.  go figure.

 we were amazed and pleased with  their eagerness.   they bought into the pledge hook, line, and sinker.  they were eager because they craved family and they craved love, but they fought tooth and nail against both ideals.   they just didn't feel they deserved either.

with creation of the pledge and the requirement that we all say it in unison every single day before every meal, al had discovered a way for these ideals to be implanted in their minds painlessly.  it was painful for the kids to accept our love.  but they weren't savvy enough to see that reciting the pledge was a means for allowing our love in.   it was pure genius!   we didn't have to cajole them into saying it, it just wasn't a hassle.  

we all said that pledge every day for years.  what a boon for our family.

i don't know when we stopped saying the pledge.   maybe when bert had his accident.  can't say for sure.  but on thursday, at supper, bert started saying it, but couldn't recall all of it.   it took all of us putting our heads together to remember all the words, but we got it.  then in unison, we said the pledge again.   roni quickly suggested we start saying it again every day.  we all happily agreed.

 i said "i think i have my blog topic" and bert replied "i better get the credit for bringing the pledge back."

credit bert for this blog idea

thermostat temp by-laws at the legion

this is a good group of people.   i'm at the american legion.  a healthy slice of americana.   my oldest son bert likes to play poker.  he doesn't have a license, so i'm the driver tonight.    al usually comes with him because al is always up for a poker game too.   but al's dancing the night away at a trampled by turtles show tonight, so i'm at the wheel.   bert's mostly independent aside from needing the ride, so i brought my unread people magazines and my laptop.

i'm four weeks behind so i haven't a clue how in the world kate's doing while william's away.  i'm in the dark about the dream wedding of elizabeth smart and have only some nondescript twitter knowledge of linsanity.  i leafed through the mail stack today and was confused to see risky business tom cruise on the cover.  after reading the caption, i realize somehow davy jones has escaped me through the years so i'll take a crash course with His Life in Pictures.  i knew he passed away, just couldn't have picked him out in a line up.

this friday night group of 50-somethings keeps it at a dull roar here at the legion.  they poke a little fun, banter at the table, but mostly they just play cards and shout things like "pot's good" and  "turn and burn" which makes me crack up as i wipe the sweat from the space between my nose and upper lip.   maintaining an 80 degree temp is the norm at the legion.  knowing that, i did layer up tonight, but still, i am cooking.   turn down the heat barkeep!

it's all good in the legion, except for the old hag that cackled sharply and deafeningly when i spilled water on the bar while i was pouring ice water from the pitcher into the plastic dixie cup.

i had gone up to the bar.  the kindly peanut-eating 75-year-old bartender with the short bouffant and dangly, red-carpet-ready, gold earrings took my order.  miller lite.  i didn't order my ushe corona with double lime because i figured they might not have either at the legion.  i didn't want to seem hoity toity, or ungracious, or call attention to myself with a scene of 'we don't have that HERE missy'.    miller lite's my old standby when i want to lay low at the legion.

look to my left, hot diggity dog, there's a fat pitcher of ice water at the bar next to two tall towers of plastic cups.   this makes me giddy as now i don't have to keep asking granny for more water, another cup, just one more water please, all night long to assuage dehydration in this blasted heat.

i haven't gotten my sweatshirt off yet, so i feel a bead of sweat starting down my forehead.   i can't get one of those cups in my fingers fast enough and when i start to pour, the flimsy little 6 ounce cup topples over and i spill the water.

enter the old bitty perched at the corner of the bar:  "ahhcacklecackleahahahhhhhaa"!   at least 10 sets of eyes darted my way, dashing my hopes of anonymity.   noisy nelly did hand me a napkin, so she wasn't all evil.

spend 6 hours at the legion, drink one beer

triumphs, sweet triumphs

12/14/05
 
 it's 7 am and i'm up and writing. usually at this time i'm up and rounding up my children with a rousing "time for breakfast". here at our household we eat breakfast at the table at 7am. al or i cook some eggs for roni and wim- "one dipping egg please". usually bert chooses one egg but he likes his egg over hard between 2 pieces of bread/not toasted. he also chooses a bowl of cereal on occasion.   i eat one of the following, i like to change it up-yogurt, peanut butter toast, cereal, or eggs, in case you were wondering. al likes eggs too.

 i really enjoy cooking eggs. we have a large griddle that can fit about 8 eggs and i have become a master at the flip. hardly break an egg yolk anymore. so today instead of flipping eggs i'm writing as our school has a 2 hour late start today due to the snow. too awake to go back to sleep. have to be there at 9:30 am so i've got an hour to kill. wim's watching senseless cartoons, he's an early riser. was up and in the shower before 6am. i rustled bert out of a deep sleep to get started on his homework. he got home at 10:40pm from his wrestling matches. his record thus far is 7 wins 6 losses. he's doing very well and he feels really comfortable on the team and with his coaches.

wrestling meets are borrrrr-ing! i went the other day and it started at 4:30 and we left at 7:30pm and he wrestled 3 matches (which was a total of about 7 minutes of bert actually wrestling- which was thoroughly exciting and i guess worth sitting through the other 180 minutes).    i know some of the other kids on the team so i could watch them, but i certainly don't care about watching 2 kids wrestling from other schools. my butt was sore and i was bored out of my gourd. luckily wim and roni made some friends to play with so they were occupied. there's one cool mom i've met that i chatted with for awhile. but i kept thinking of all the things i could be doing- christmas shopping, napping, writing an update.

 so anyway bert's up writing definitions for vocabulary words for history class-- trying to bullshit us about this assignment being turned in already, that the teacher made a mistake on the homework sheet and it really isn't due, this worksheet isn't due til the day of the test. bullshit bullshit bullshit. we can see through all of it now. we know him better. he's nearing shut-down mode, when he just harrumphs his head down on the table and laments loudly "i don't know how to do it!"

while not feeding into his sad attempt at getting OUT of doing the work, we gently (and i do TRY very hard to keep the annoyance out of my voice, although many times i am not successful) encourage him to keep working at it. give him a little tickle here a little tickle there to get him back on track with mood, then he soldiers on with the assignment. what it would take another kid, 30 minutes to complete, takes bert an hour and a half to complete with loads of handling from us to get it done.

 oh-- i just heard it "i don't know what i have to do!!" shrieks bert. al's there working with him. oh no.  al just said with some exasperation, "well what's the assignment then?" which is really a kiss of death question because bert's practically pre-wired to lie.

 "are you trying to be difficult?" says al next. al is persistent. and al finally gets bert back on track. bert works for a few minutes looking up a word- "assess isn't in here dad"

al-"What? they took assess out of the dictionary? well i'm gonna have to assess the situation here. where's the number for webster's??" al's so funny and good at using comic relief to distract them from their crappy ways.

new topic--

just heard from wim "dad my arm hurts"

al-"remember i told you it's a bruise and you just have to wait til it goes away" we could tell him that 100 times a day and he'll still say "my arm hurts" like there's something we can do about it.

well- life is good here. it's a daily struggle to parent our kids and be a parent, but our lives have
changed so drastically and significantly for the better in the last 6 months that there are rewards
now. simple, small, gigantic, complex changes for the better.

 the other day roni walked up to me at school while i was talking to another teacher and she did not
interrupt. she waited minutes until i was done talking. she considered another person's needs
before her own. triumph!

yesterday at bball practice, wim's task was to get his coaches last name and phone number and find out when the next game is. he got all the info requested (triumph! and highly unusually responsible behavior) PLUS went one further and asked his coach for a ride to the game on saturday in case we couldn't go (double triumph!, took care of his own need without acting helpless).

one morning when i came out of the bathroom from getting ready  bert was sitting on the couch reading a book (a normally acceptable and encouraged activity, however the kids have to do their chores and take their supplements first thing when they wake up).   i asked him if he had done his morning things and he answered honestly that he hadn't done them with no excuses or arguments. (triumph!)

i added one unpaid chore to his list as is the usual consequence for not following a rule- so he was grumpy and harrumphed around doing his chores for 10 minutes but before i left for work he found me and gave me a big hug and said he was sorry for not doing what he was supposed to do and changed his snotty little attitude into a happy one in less than 10 minutes without any immediate intervention!   (what a triumph!!)

the other day wim  and i were playing scrabble on the computer and i was winning and he handled it with the grace of a regular 12 year old boy when his mom beats him at a game, asked me for another turn to try to win, asked me for a rematch, made up a stupid reason that he lost-he had hit the submit key too soo.     but he DID NOT call me a cheater or pretend that i did not win or get pissed or try to quit before the game was over (the usual happenings in this situation- yeah he's a blast to play games  with (dripping with sarcasm)  but maybe he is becoming someone fun to play with!?!?!) (triumph!!)

 al is a treasure. he teaches me about parenting by being a good model. he's amazing with our kids and has the patience of someone not living in our home!!    i don't know how he does it, but i know why he does it.    he does it all for me.   i admire and  appreciate him so much.

mcribs

9/29/05
 
 it's been a long time since i wrote, but i only have 7 minutes before my next preschoolers come in for speech therapy so this will be quick! this is my best guess of what i was doing right now exactly one year ago-- sitting at my desk, with dark circles under my eyes, 10 pounds lighter than the month before, trying to choke down my mcrib school lunch but not being remotely hungry, stressed out to the max with thoughts about what happened in our home the night before and what we can do to prevent it from happening tonight, on the phone with al trying to make a plan for that, and then receiving a phone call from one of my kid's teachers about the big problem that happened at school this morning and scheduling a meeting to come to talk with the principal about it, maybe add in a few tears shed and that is pretty close to how most  days went one year ago.

 today, i'm sitting here with my mcrib school lunch hungrily scarfing it down, with bright eyes from a full long night's sleep (was in bed and asleep by 10 pm last night), thinking about how smoothly last night's homework time went, how relatively pleasant our get up and start the day morning routine was, and now i'm spending 7 minutes of breaktime actually taking a break and writing to all of you about what a difference a year makes!!!!



11/11/05
 
there has to be some sort of nomination i can make for dad of the year for al. i'll make it right here and now... al is hereby voted dad of the year by his loving wife greta. he has incredible patience and insight for parenting our children. last year was the year of wim, this year is shaking out to be the year of roni. of course it's related to years of trauma and instability which has caused her to completely have no trust in anyone but herself (imagine that - as a 9-year-old girl - and i dare you to not start  to cry). i understand the psychology and i can discuss attachment disorder like a professional, and i will unconditionally love and care for roni for the rest of my life, but that doesn't change the fact that- plain and simple- roni is a bitch.

she could push the 2nd best parent in the world to a want to drop roni off somewhere in the middle of the night 50 miles out of nowhere, without a flashlight, and not care if she could find her way back home.

but she can not do it to the first best parent in the world- al.   al may have had a fleeting thought of doing it, but instead this is what he did last night, with our flailing, screaming, agitated almost to the point of no return, daughter. while i tucked in our boys (which is a 60-minute process and we are sure is one of the golden keys to our success in parenting this motley crew of kids we've decided to parent, i will touch on our tuck-ins in another posting some day) al had the angry-at-the-world roni bundle up, get her shoes on, and go with him in the honda.

drove her out 10 miles to a spot on the luce line, a beautiful trail going through our town. he walked with her on that trail for a few miles, for over an hour.   talking with her about - i don't even know many details. i do know that she decided in the end to disclose to him that she does not trust us.

then they got down on their knees face-to-face, in mostly darkness, dimly lit only by a farmer's combine's lights off in the distance, and roni sincerely (which is very hard to come by when roni's involved) pledged to al to be his daughter forever. he pledged to roni that he would forever be her dad. as they walked back to the honda (another mile) with her fists she threw her past into the ditch over and over again, verbalizing what she was doing.

when the two of them walked in the house i was standing in the kitchen. roni walked in first. her face was a face i have never seen before in 15 months of knowing her. she looked genuinely happy.

i said "you're smiling."   she said with utter sincerity and while looking right into my eyes (which is also a rarity) "i'm ready to become a member of this family. i am going to try really hard to honor, love, and respect my mom and my dad and my brothers too. i threw away the bad stuff from my past into the ditch."

 i said "welcome to the family." the 3 of us spent the next hour talking, hugging, looking at the newspaper, and eating chicken noodle soup. she sat on my lap with her legs wrapped around my waist and hugged me, for the first time, because she usually also sort of physically pushes herself away from me at the same time while hugging me, she was really just hugging me.

 then al took her up to bed to get her tucked under the covers. when al woke her up this morning, the first thing she said to him was "i threw away my past last night dad. even if i don't have privileges right now i can still have a happy attitude".

it is such a real change in her for the first time. al helped her to experience one night of real trust in another person. i could see it in her face, she was relieved of the burden of only trusting herself. it might only last a few days, or just today even. we know she will revert back to being the untrusting, lying, manipulating, hurtful bitch our family knows and loves. al and i aren't delusional- we know it may take many many many years before she truly trusts us consistently, before she really believes we won't let her down. but she got to feel it for a night. and we will get her to feel it again another day. and then she'll catch trust fever, and then it will be the year of bert i suppose. i don't know who will be next. i just hope the keep taking turns.