Boston Marathon: Six Months Later

I don't know why people have to die. And I especially don't know why they have to die in such ridiculous ways. I don't know why free will is so important to God that God doesn't do more smiting of evil doers before they can do so much harm. (Maybe that is why I am not God....that and the fact that if I were I would have a bumper sticker that read: Why yes, my son DOES walk on water....oh and it would probably be dangerous for God to have so many random hormone fluctuations.....and then there would be the problem of forgiveness: "Seriously? You want me to forgive you AGAIN? You've done the same dang thing like a dozen flipping times! Just be grateful I don't throw your a$$ in the Lion's Den!".... but I digress....) What I do know is that humankind has proven, time and again, to overcome evil with goodness and love. And that even after all the craziness in the world, after all the terror, the heartbreak, the shock, fear and pain, for the lucky ones, and that is most of us, life just kind of goes on. Sometimes with gusto.

In the days following the Boston bombing, so many people expressed to me how sorry they were that my first Boston experience was so traumatic. Honestly though, I don't see it that way. (I will admit the anxiety and heartburn issues were not so wonderful....especially since it has been six months now and I am still not fully recovered....I think I may have given myself an ulcer actually.....yay stupidity.)

In actuality, the entire experience put things back into perspective. I hadn't realized how far off I had gotten. Before the bombings, I felt remorse for my slightly slower time. I agonized over those three seconds per mile. Seriously. It is sick.

Afterwards I felt a tinge of guilt: How could I have been the least bit upset with my running performance when I walked away unscathed? How could I walk away with an inflated Boston-Qualifying ego when so many people were hurt, some now unable to walk without prosthetics? When people lost their children, their loved ones? It was a powerful and extreme reality check. One that forced me to ask, if I had been one of the unlucky ones, if those had been my last few days on earth, would I have left the legacy I want to leave? Do I even know what legacy I hope to leave behind?

It's a daunting question.

The day before we left for Boston I was expressing my worries to Liam's preschool teacher about whether or not I would get through the race. She texted me later to tell me she knew I could do it: "Just put one foot in front of the other like a gagillion times," she said, a phrase that became a mantra during the race itself. And life is kind of like that, too. How do we get through? We just have to put one foot in front of the other, like a gagillion times, until we cross the finish. But, that's not the entire story either because the question should never be can we finish (we all will, one way or another). The question is how will the world be better because we were in it? And along those lines, how will we respond to the details of the course? Who will we love? How will we live? How can we leave the world better than we found it?

Six months later, I am still searching for my own answers to those questions. As we prepare our family for our move, as we give away and sell and donate our belongings, as we choose what we will keep in our lives and what we will purge, Boston remains imbedded in my thoughts (probably because it wasn't too long ago that I registered for 2014.....you know, like I said I would NEVER do.....sheesh.....). And yet still, as I watch our large pieces of furniture and other big items leave our home to be loved by others, I find I get stuck on little details (like the picture frames I used to love but haven't had out for FIVE YEARS!) and it causes disproportionate angst. But in the midst of sorting out the details and weeding through the junk, attempting to keep my eye on the bigger picture, the questions are still loud and clear:

How can I help make the world a better place? How can I leave it better than I found it? And what can I do this very minute to set myself along that path? And then repeat those steps, like a gagillion times.....

Why We Don't Have a Baby Vole

Great question. Why don't we have a baby vole?

The short answer? Kurt.

There I was, running along, when Kurt called with important and pressing life decisions like whether or not to buy a really good but expensive tractor for our new farm home....(uh, yes....really not sure why he thought he had to ask me this question.) And since I was all, 'Yes, yes, yes, whatever you think best, how could we pass up such a great deal on a tractor, yes' and so on and so forth, I thought it would be the perfect time to turn around and ask my own really important question:

Me: Ok, so now that we have that decided, would it be okay if I brought home a baby vole?

Him: (slight pause) No. (He didn't say it very emphatically but I am certain I heard the tone going that direction.)

Me: Oh good, then I chose correctly and did the right thing by putting it back.

Of course, I said this while I was on my way back to find the cutest little baby vole I have ever seen. Granted, it is the only baby vole I have ever seen but it was darn cute.

Ok, let me back up. Solly and I were on a run around the lake when out popped the cutest darn baby vole ever seen! (Did I mention how cute it was?) Ok, so, it really didn't pop out of anywhere.....more like struggled to move across the path and I nearly squished it.

"Solly, dump out your Popchips and give me that bowl!" I said, coming to a screeching and swerving halt, almost giddy about what I almost ran over.

"No," he said, because apparently Kurt has already bribed him: ("Solly, if your mother ever asks you to give up your bowl so that she can bring home wild animals, just say no and I will give you a lollipop.")

After he finished his Popchips, he handed me the bowl anyway (so there Kurt! plbbbbbbb!) and I scooped up Baby Vo.

Ever seen a vole in a bowl? (I swear this has Dr. Seuss written all over it!) No? Well then, it's your lucky day!

And yes, Baby Vo is as soft as the ball of gray cotton it appears to be! After I pet it oh so gently, and then let Solly do the same (minus the gentle part), I had to make the toughest decision of the day: Take it or leave it. Argh!

I could hear the voice of reason in my head telling me how much the other kids would LOVE to see this little guy and that it was only fair and seriously, do you even WANT to be the coolest Mom around or are you just completely clueless because THIS IS YOUR ONE AND ONLY CHANCE?!?!

Oh wait, no, that wasn't reason.....that was the other one.

But, then I heard Kurt's voice, literally, telling me no, I shouldn't do that.

So, Solomon and I found the perfect little spot to let Baby Vo go and then, after a sweet goodbye (that included me saving the voles life yet again, this time from the hands of a two year old) off we went.....but half way around the lake, I had a sudden moment of doubt and we ran right back around to where we left the little guy and spent 20 minutes looking for him. (Yes, I do in fact have a teensy tiny time management problem.)

After finding him again, curled up on a leaf, snorting his little nose around in the ground, I managed to convince myself that I had made the right decision the first time and we should really let him go now before I talked myself out of leaving him there. He appeared to agree because as soon as we left his side he scooted his way under a big leaf as if to say, 'See? I'm hiding now. You can't find me so go away.'

Baby Voles are so cute when they play peek-a-boo.

And in case you ever run across a baby vole on your own and decide to make a different (BETTER) decision, here is a great chat board on baby vole care I found where you can learn how to care for them until they are old enough to survive on their own (unlike us, who just left it to die.....seriously, how do we live with ourselves! My rational side said, 'Take it, take it, help it grow up and teach it to survive in this cruel world' but no.....he's probably freezing his little vole haunches off as I type if he hasn't already been found and eaten......poor thing.....maybe we should go back for it tomorrow.....)

And that is why we don't have a baby vole.

But clearly, we should.

Baby Vo before hurrying off to hide.....and by hurrying I mean he was faster than a slug, maybe.....
(This post could have also been titled: Why I Don't Ever Finish My To-Do List)

Some Days Are Just Like That

How I envisioned my morning (for the visual learner):

Order, beauty, peace, calm.....with a hint of glory....

Here's how it actually happened:

You know, with less pretty colors and far more unruly explosives.....

I found myself withholding an extreme case of maniacal laughter when the front desk lady at the school told the kids (directed at me of course), "Well, I can't excuse a tardy for that." And instead of making some snide comment back I looked at her with a pleasant smile and replied with a big shrug: "Great, you don't have to!" (Read: I don't care!) But I knew my day was going the wrong direction when not even five minutes later I found my car blocked in by two school buses waiting to pick up a class for their field trip. And when I asked nicely and the bus driver wouldn't move, not even an inch, to let me out, I started to wonder if getting up today was even worth it. (And had to force myself to think happy thoughts so that I didn't end up on the nightly news: Angry Mom in jail tonight over bus incident.....in which she repeatedly rammed into the side of a school bus because he wouldn't move out of her way.)

Twenty minutes later, when I was checking out of the grocery store, trying to go really fast in order to make it to Solomon's school on time for drop-off, and I had a problem with the self-service scanner and the employee who was supposed to be there to help said I'd have to wait for her to finish stocking the entire lottery machine because she certainly couldn't leave it open for a second and apparently there is no other way like closing it up and helping customers and then opening it up again....oh wait, there IS another way.... I looked to the heavens (by way of rolling my eyes toward my forehead with a deep, deep breath) and saw God winking at me.

God can be a real jerk.

Here's hoping for a better start tomorrow!

Moving to Mars

I don't know why it is but every time I say I will never do something, I always end up doing just that. Sometimes it is years and years later but I swear, the word 'never' must be a trigger to the force watching over us. It's like, "Oooooooh, reeeeeally? You will never _________???" (Insert mocking James Earl Jones-like voice which you can somehow feel taking notes on a gigantic notepad app in the sky.)

You see, once upon a time, I swore I would never live in Pittsburgh, home of the greatest sports fans (and teams) on earth. Why might you ask? 99% because I am a sunshine loving girl from Florida, the state to which all former Pittsburgh residents seem to flock (there must be a reason right?) and Pittsburgh, well, I understand it is a teensy tiny bit GRAY compared to what I know and love.

But, I also swore at one time that I would never live in MN (ahem) and yet, well, you can see how that turned out. I could go on and on and on. But I will spare you the list.

So when Minnesota raised its state income tax to almost 10% and Kurt brought up the idea of moving this past year, we began to explore our options. We started with Wyoming (0% income tax, great skiing), then thought maybe Colorado would be better (until we made the trip out anyway), passed over Tennessee (where I think I left my heart on the way home to FL this summer) and North Carolina (you think FL is hot and muggy? Try Charlotte in a heat wave!). But I knew, the second I asked the question, "Why aren't we considering PA?" that there would be no place else. The surprised excitement in Kurt's eyes, the second and third round of "Are you sure?" questioning.....his utter delight in the very idea of moving close to his hometown told me that he could not think of a better option: not one, single, better place on earth.

And so, at the end of the calendar year, we are moving to Mars. Yes, you read that right. And I will take great joy in being able to say it again, and again, and again because HOW FUNNY (and perfect) IS THAT?! While it is really Mars Borough, PA, in Adams Township, in the north hills of Pittsburgh, I can still say we are moving to Mars. And that, in and of itself, makes it worth every bit of stress that comes with a huge move.

Kurt: You know I will never refer to it as Mars. It will always be Adams Township.
Me: That's funny because you know I will never refer to it as Adams Township. It will always be Mars....As a matter of fact, I won't move if it isn't to Mars. (So there!.... If he thinks that is bad, just wait until he sees our return address labels!)

I can't go into all the details now, but I will tell you this: they include almost 8 acres of land, an incredible house and the potential for lots of chickens (well, at least some chickens...and maybe a horse....and a flying squirrel....yes, I am serious about that too; what can I say, Lily will always be Lily!)

"Hey Mom, look! A flying saucer."
So worth it.

P.S. I will never win the lottery...... (Hey, it's worth a shot!)

Eleven Stories in Three Sentences or Less

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1. Sleepovers

I hate them.
The end.

**

2. Crickets

A cricket moved into the corner of our basement recently.
He's a little schmuck.

***

3. Solomon

I have never considered the "terrible twos" to be so terrible. Then Solomon, who apparently takes after the cricket, entered his 'twos'. (I pretty much feel the same way about both of them.)

****

4. Sharing

Solomon: I WANT POPCHIPS, LIAAAAAAM!
Me: Well Solly, maybe Liam is nice enough to share with you if you ask politely.
Liam: No....I'm not.

*****


5. Lesson Learned (Again)

No matter how sneaky you think you are, never try to out maneuver a urinating five year old boy. Trust me when I tell you, this is not one of those places to 'try, try again' because even if you successfully get those shoes and clothes off once, you will lose eventually. And I promise you, it simply ain't worth it folks!


******

6. Potty Training

Potty training is typically not much fun for parents. It is even less so when your stubborn two year old won't accept bribes incentives. Seriously, what kid turns down M&Ms as a reward????

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7. Answer (To #6)

Mine does. Please refer to story #3 for a more thorough explanation.

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8. First Message From the 3rd Grade Writing Teacher

"The first month will be highly focused on writing a good sentence into a good paragraph. We will also start into a diary of an animal project during the first month."

Um, I'm kind of thinking I should have my third grader volunteer to teach the class.

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9. True Confessions of a Skeptical Mom

I have yet to turn in a single health form for my four school-aged kids this year. They are completely filled out and sitting in my car but I thought I'd see how long it takes before our "rigorous charter school, which holds all students and staff to the highest of standards and expects extreme accountability blah blah blah" realizes the oversight. So far, it seems that they care about the forms about as much as I cared to fill them out.

**********

10. My Shampoo

The shampoo I use proudly boasts that it is Sulfate Free, Paraben Free, Gluten Free and 100% Vegan.
Apparently I am supposed to eat it.....? (If only it was Kosher because everyone knows Kosher soap tastes far better than its non-kosher competitors!)

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11. On Blogging

It is much easier when you don't actually post anything (duh).

Please know I have had my reasons for neglecting the blog: reasons for good, not for evil (for the most part), reasons to bring on a more hopeful future.... I will bring you more regular posts once those reasons settle down into their routine and we begin to function like a normal family of seven (who is preparing for yet another gigantic move)......

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Have a great week, my friends!

p.s. I dedicate this post to my dear friend Kim who thinks any post/email/text over, say, four sentences should be punishable by law. At least the stories were short, right? ;)

You May Not be Cut Out to be a Photographer if.....

You might not be cut out to be a photographer if you can't get the smiliest kid in the universe to smile for the camera.

I'm not here to judge mind you. I have no special skills when it comes to photography. And when school pictures come along, I obviously have issues even dressing my kids appropriately as I learned, once again, this year when I sent Liam to his school pictures wearing his Fried Egg and Bacon Smiley Face shirt. It would have been great had they captured the entire shirt but since all they got were the eggs well......see for yourself....

I'm thinking maybe I need to get a shirt like this to help me in that particular department!

So, I am not judging mind you. We all have our strengths and weaknesses but if you are a professional photographer and the best you can elicit from Guy Smiley is this (see Liam in Kurt's arms, not even paying attention, much less smiling!) I really do have to question your calling.

At any rate, here is our summer so far in pictures since I obviously can't find the words or time to write about any of it!

Love a helpful big brother! (We have FINALLY arrived!)

You can run in it.....you can cool off in it.....

You can even drink it....win win win.

What happens when Hypochondriac Mom meets Birthday. Seriously, have you ever thought about how much spit gets blown onto a cake at kid parties? Ewwww.

He's just prepping for his rock climbing life.

Coach Kurt

On our nature walk

The zoo has nothing on us....

God help us all when this day truly arrives.....

Probably the most fitting picture I have ever taken. Ever!

All good moms give fire to their five year olds so that they can chase their siblings with it.  Fact.

"Can we keep it?" (No.)

"Well can we just play with it a little?"

What a little humidity can do for you!

"Seriously lady. We've got to do something about this mop on my head!"

If there's a will, there's a way.

"Hey Solly, whatcha doin'?"
"Oh nothing much. Just wrecking havoc. Giving you another headache. You know, the usual."

Have a great weekend!

Out of the Gizzard, Part Two

We are slowly coming up for air from the Gizzard stay-cation. We have been down to FL to help celebrate my parents' 50th wedding anniversary, brought back my nephew for the summer (yes, I know that means we now have 6 kids in the house and no, I am not insane. This made total sense at the time and so far it has been terrific, minus a few little incidents here and there as they adjusted to one another and he adapted to life with a few more rules and regulations and, um....competition), and then we made it through several ridiculous weeks of camps and sports (and sport camps) that included me needing to get four kids to three very different places at the same time each morning. Breathe.....

But in the midst of the craziness, I have learned an awful lot:

1. Liam can read.

No, he is not sitting there for hours delighting in the depths of Tolkein but apparently the kid taught himself to read. (Because God knows I can't take the credit!) Put a BOB phonics based book in front of him and he is golden. And when 'Mat sits on Sam', he just laughs and laughs while I marvel at him long enough for my wondering of "How on earth did I miss this??" to turn to "WOO HOO! LESS WORK IN KINDERGARTEN!"

2. You can eat Flowering Kale.

This may not be important to you. However, to someone like me whose favorite food is a vegetable that every last darn plant nursery sold out of "just yesterday, you just missed the last tray...." and so the only option was to plant flowering kale rather than edible kale in hopes that maybe all those plant people were wrong and you could in fact eat it, well, YEEEEEEEEEE HAW! I will so totally eat the flowering kale out of my garden. I will eat it here and there, I will eat it EVERYWHERE! And for the record, the little leaves on the flowering kale are just the right size to make perfect kale chips. Score! (In your face plant people!)

3. It's never a good idea to try to take off a little boy's shoes when he is trying to urinate.

Just trust me on this one. (In your face silly mom!)

4. You can slip on a banana peel just like in the cartoons.

And it is so much funnier when the 5 year old comes up laughing because well, duh, he just slipped on a banana peel just like in the cartoons! (Right back atcha kid!)

5. My windows are super squeaky clean!

And that might be the least truthful thing I have ever written here given the 2- and 5-year old boys who seem to think exchanging their mucus and saliva for whatever might be on the glass is a daily must. But today, when Solly found a little bitty bird gasping for air on our deck, in pure shock from his crash into the very high window (clean only because the kids haven't figured out how to get up there yet....) I had to marvel just a little at how often this happens. Solly, of course, immediately pet it and then ran to get the lid for the Smokey Joe (think: tiny grill sitting on our deck) which I had to force him to take away from the bird as we were not catching it or hiding it or anything of the sort SOLOMONSTER! Liam wanted his picture taken with it and the bird just graciously sat there through it all, enjoying our company, not eating the crumbs we offered (courtesy of the girls) but at one point it got so comfy with us that it even closed its little eyes to take a nap. Liam, wanting to know if it was dead, clapped his hands really loud next to the bird's face while Solly ran down to the sandbox to get a shovel (I know he was thinking something up.... I just don't know what). It had been a good ten minutes by the time Solly got there with his shovel and that's when the bird came to his senses, (i.e. had the $h!t scared out of him) and flew off. We all cheered. And I vowed to send the kids up a ladder to smear up the high windows too....after all, it's for the birds....

Have a great weekend and I hope to get back to more regular updates....especially with the possibility of big changes (think relocation) in our future!